#never actually spoken to trans people face to face who would ever actually want to speak to me outside of the obligation of school shit so I | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashwithapen · 9 months

Text

poem #8

(this one is a long one and comes with a list of TWs, so the actual poem is below the cut. this one is also a lot more prose-poetry/slam poetry-esque than my other stuff :thumbsup:)

TW for school shootings, trans genocide/transphobia, abortion (mentioned), police brutality (mentioned), suicide (mentioned).

the thing about TikTok written 4 april 2023

y’know, i only opened this app because i saw a clip somewhere of one of my favourite bands. the singer made a joke in Scotland last night, and surely someone had to have posted a better-quality video on TikTok.

it was the first thing i saw when the app loaded, because they just know me so well. i watched it and saved it so that i can watch it again as a distraction or something later. but then i made the mistake of scrolling.

the next thing i saw was a 5-minute video about how people my age and younger were screaming for their lives just across the pond outside of government buildings. they are desperate not to be killed in their classrooms, desperate to live through this semester, desperate to be heard, but the suit-wearing rulers shuffled through their 1000-person sea, one foot at a time like it was dark and they couldn’t see the people my age and younger lining the walls, holding their signs, screaming for change. i watch it, and i have to keep scrolling.

some video about all the shit you can buy for just 8 USD from a gas station in Japan. i don’t watch the whole thing; i keep scrolling.

someone with a cool haircut is sitting on the floor of their bedroom, crying. the sound playing is saying something from a show i haven’t watched about a storybook fox who is sick and tired of living in a hole. they are crying, the tags say that they are trans, and they are crying. their bio says they are just 14, that’s three whole years younger than i am and something in me surges because that is my sibling whose name i don’t know and that i may never get to because the threat of genocide has them, 14, crying on their bedroom floor. not tonight, i think in silence. i do not want to cry tonight. and so i keep scrolling.

and the next video is an indie artist who didn’t exist a year and a half ago, but even so, their new single that when viral drops in a few nights so i follow their page and i hold my breath: should i scroll again? i do, i don’t learn.

and there’s a joke i don’t get with the loudest fucking noise i’ve ever heard. it makes no sense, i scroll again.

oh look, a 9-year-old girl who got shot when she went back to pull the fire alarm so her classmates would know to run. run. run. her face is the centrepiece, her smile from an earlier date something i need to learn to shake off by tonight. i can’t even imagine what being her might have been like. i scroll again.

a cover of a song, sung atop guitar chords; another joke that the comments don’t explain to me either; another reminder of the imposing genocide; abortion bans are being enforced; they’re using force against unarmed protesters again; a poem spoken to me by a person named Lee; more tour clips to distract me; some statistics about teen suicide rates rising in the States; and one of those checkpoints that tells you that it’s time for a break. stand up, stretch, get some water. the song playing low in the background is one i’ve heard maybe a hundred times by now, but i do as i’m instructed, and i take a deep breath.

my curtains are open and i can see through my window. i remember the song i started writing the other day about how people like me seldom live long enough to see their hair turn grey. i remember how i couldn’t finish it off because something salty and wet rubbed the ink off my page and i closed my book and i pretended that i wasn’t upset, like how, in an hour from now, when dinner is served hot in front of me and they ask me “how has your day been?” i will pretend my phone is not heavy in my pocket and that the kids' shouting isn’t plaguing me and that trans people aren’t losing their right to exist and be free and that a girl half my age wasn’t shot because she got unlucky one day.

and i regret opening TikTok every time that i do because i always fail to miss all those kids i heard dance on here. instead, i get singers on stages and artists who speak and kids who know how to barricade doors with desks and bookshelves and how to defend themselves with their trendy metal water bottles, and news about the latest legislation passed that ensures that more kids will be forcefully born into a cyclical mess where they don’t get to grow up without routine checks as to whether they can tell apart a juice box pop and a gunshot.

and there are not enough words to tell you all the things i have heard scrolling through TikTok, where the mothers are gentle with their children until they go to sleep, because then they take off their soft tones and don their broken voices, screaming out in hopes that their kids won’t have to.

it has to be a phenomenon: the ability you need to grow by my age if you want to use an app as unsuspecting as the sound of a clock, TikTok. if you cannot master empathy and apathy and the way in which you must be able to switch between one and the other at the littlest flick of your wrist because what’s funny one minute must always precede the latest tragedy, death giving way to a joke and a smirk from a pretty girl in a skirt whose page a month ago was all about ways you can help in Ukraine, but clearly, she has become a master of this miracle.

and at the end of it all, when it has been hours of hearing about Neo-nazis and the generalised patriarchy and the right or wrong ways to raise bread yeast, i think three things:

one: a simmering roll of “wow”. both my empathy and apathy have been expended, and now, i have nothing left to give.

two: i am never coming back here again, like a hotel where they promise a rest, a break, a chance to get away from your day-to-day stress. one star.

three: oh look, my band said something funny again, and god, i could use a distraction.

9 notes · View notes

haupkmn · 28 days

Text

Copypasted from my conversation with Jolee.

Mostly me having a breakdown while ranting

I get that me saying this much probably isn't helping anything at all but ever since this callout shit started its gotten worse. I was actually out as my family, the whole situation is complicated as fuck but basically my parents don't like other gay people and don't like that I'm "committed" to being trans. I didn't want most of my IRL friends knowing I'm a system because it's fucking embarrassing and it's a fact about me I really don't like.

People have edited my skin white knowing I'm black, people have put my face on the pictures of monkeys people have posted pictures my groomer took of me that basically count as CSEM. At one point there was an kink dating account roleplaying as me and a fucking Chris Chan ass wiki.

I get that would happen in the past was wrong and I can't change that I'm trying my best to afford from it and let everyone involve who I've actually hurt heal but literally every single day I feel like they are watching me in some sort of capacity because they are friends with one of the people who groomed me.

I'm not a liar, I'm genuinely not. I just want to be left alone so I can spend one fucking day without having a paranoid episode thinking they're watching me through some camera or somehow bugging wires in my apartment which I know probably isn't real but it's terrifying because I've had people involved with this go to my parents house and throw trash around the yard or spray paint shit on the house or go to my fucking old high school and take pictures of it at night. and I just want this to end.

There was some fucking thing I got in my submit box on my 18th birthday of someone posting a a picture of them in front of my house dabbing in front of my fucking bedroom window with my parents and I weren't home.

It's been almost five years since the shift starts I've had to move twice and change my number three or four times because some people on here keep posting and there's several blogs on here with my fucking dead name on it and I just want to be left alone.

I've explained the situation with my dog dozens upon dozens of times and I understand that no one would want to believe me because I'm apparently a liar for having shit memory or bad system communication issues or generally was a shitty person in the past.

I'm so paranoid about this because I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to hurt children and I never have and I'm just so scared of this continuing and some people in the mod team have spoken to them before, one or two have had callouts from them.

I'm not trying to ask for pity or anything like that because I don't deserve it but please no I'm not trying to turn you against or anything, I genuinely think that you try to apologize they harass you because they've been harassing me for trying to apologize.

I've been so fucking nervous because every day I keep getting phone calls from different places where people just scream into the phone and hang up. I'm honestly at the point where if there's a fucking kiwi Farms page about me I don't want to know it and I don't want to see it because all of this has been terrifying.

I don't like adult baby shit or baby first shit I think it's all fucking disgusting because age regression as a whole is a huge fucking trigger for me that I don't want to get into with DMS with you that you're probably going to send them. My friend who calls himself a baby for just put the two words together as a term cuz it's the best definition he has at the moment and I'm sorry I can't stop shaking and crying I literally just want to be a left alone.

We'll keep saying I want to do pity but I don't. I never wanted pity. I did do bad things

I am so scared of my family finding out that I'm allegedly a pedophile or have abused my fucking dog when I haven't. I fucking haven't I will drop everything and leave work to show you the printed out texts and vet bills uncensored and a note from the police saying my mom dragged me down to the police station and made me do a lie detector test or else she was going to bash my dog's fucking skull in with a rock knowing the exact police at that station broke my fucking spine.

I want to stop thinking that they're constantly watching me somehow or that they have something going on or they're talking to literally everyone I know to the point where I can't talk to my friends anymore, I've been avoiding my boyfriend and working away from people at work because of this.

Every fucking time the phone rings at either one of my jobs I immediately freeze thinking that they got me, they're going to tell my boss about me they're going to tell my boss that I did something even though I didn't. I literally just want to fucking rest I want to be left alone so badly to the point that I dropped every single fucking convention I ever worked for and I'm coming close just asking them to blacklist me and reject all of my applications.

At any thought that moment they could be following me, they could be watching me, I don't know what they're doing or what they're planning but they're doing something that's so scary because apparently everyone I've ever known or care about might be in contact with them if they've ever used fucking Tumblr or maybe not even just used Tumblr.

Honestly if I got a fucking text from my abusive ass mother telling me that Sunny messaged her I wouldn't be surprised. I wouldn't be surprised if someone came into my job or came to my apartment or saw me on the street did literally fucking anything like recognizing my name or my face or my voice or I don't even fucking know I want to be left alone.

It has been five fucking years and I have lost a dozens of friends because of my paranoia and my PTSD episodes and literally got diagnosed with pocd because of this, I mean I had it before but I got the diagnosis probably 2 years ago when they started talking about me supporting ddlg shit which I fucking don't. I don't want to support something that literally made me a goddamn system I don't want to support that sort of thing, I support my friend because I care about them and don't like the shit that they do I literally just want to be left alone. That's all I've wanted this entire time. I'm pissed at the mods have some sort of stupid beef with them that they can't drop but I just want to be left alone.

Day in and day out I have a mutual come to me on a non message me and say something like hey they're talking about you again and then suddenly I got a fucking screenshot on Discord which I never wanted

I don't like hearing this, I don't like seeing this or thinking about it because what unquote drama like this really freaks me the fuck out.

That's probably sounds like some sort of I don't fucking no schizo rambling or something but it's the office fucking truth I just want to be left alone because I don't know what's going to happen next.

It wasn't great waking up on my 18th birthday and seeing that someone who's really close with my groomer found out I had a not safe at work blog as a kid and was we reblogging every single weird post on it that I made with my obscure fucking trigger as the header making fun of me for being 14. The age I made when I made that blog. The fact that these people knew about that blog for possibly years where I posted pictures of myself because my groomer made me it's so fucking scary, and that they saved them apparently and they may still have them. I don't know.

Something's word genuine mistakes. I didn't know about that one Nazi newgrounds cartoon I never on a new grounds as a kid and never saw the actual animation. A mutual made fan are a long time ago when I reblogged it and not knowing what it was.

Even the big mouth shit isn't fucking true. I was drunk on call a long time ago with some ex friends when they pointed out I used to dress like one of the characters from the show and we all started joking about kinning from the show assigned each other characters. I haven't fucking seen it I don't have a fjckkng Netflix account.

This isn't fun. I never enjoyed this. I don't want this. Literally all I want is to be left alone and be some fucking guy on the internet and not have people constantly tracking my whereabouts on my jobs or what fucking ever I don't care. I was never run off I remade because people kept posting my old phone number

I just want to be left alone

#a wild situation appeared!#not pokemon

3 notes · View notes

gifted-loser · 2 months

Text

My Son Absolutely Destroyed a Relative’s Transphobic Tirade

And it was the most eloquent yet brutal flaming I’ve ever seen.

Imagine you had a relative you weren’t close to who’d never met your children before. Now, imagine this relative had formed a negative opinion about one of your children based on their own bigotry and skewed world view — and then actually had the nerve to confront your child the very first time they were introduced.

Oh, I know. The audacity.

Now imagine right before you interjected to put this relative in their place, your child countered their hate speech in such an eloquent, adult, and factual manner as to leave that person so thoroughly outmatched, they collapsed into a fit of childish rage. Reduced to a shrieking harpy, red faced and howling.

I lived this reality a couple years ago when my trans son was just 14 years old.

Ihave a first cousin who’s well known as a religious zealot, saving her brutal judgements for everyone save her own self. We’ve never been close as we lived in different states and are different ages, but I saw her during some holidays growing up and our interactions have always been cordial.

At this particular time, I hadn’t seen nor spoken to her since her sister’s wedding a decade earlier. So, I was surprised when she sent me a message via Facebook and asked for my number. I was even more surprised when she Facetimed me immediately after I sent it to her. What fresh Hell is this? was my first instinct.

I should have listened to it.

We made small talk and she blabbed about her life for a while before approaching the topic she really had called me for in the first place. She noticed my oldest kid going by his new name, Ollie, on Facebook recently and saw a picture I’d posted of the two of us. She wanted to know how I’m “dealing with all that.” Oh, brother.

Before I could answer she launched into the explanation that the oldest of her eight children had come out as trans as well, and that their family was not having it. They would not acknowledge her oldest as anything but the female she was assigned at birth, and their oldest child’s girlfriend was not anything more than a “friend.”

I would’ve loved to just nope out of the conversation and hang up, but I felt so bad for her oldest baby. I thought, maybe she does want advice and I can help her see things in another light.

Before I could get in a word between her blabbing, however, my son stuck his head in my bedroom door to say goodnight. Before he could duck back out, my cousin demanded, “Is that your oldest? Turn the phone around and let me see!”

I knew how this was going to go, and I kind of even willed it to happen. So, I turned the phone around and introduced them. Ollie greeted her and said, “I love your red hair!” commenting sweetly on my cousin’s natural orange-red curly mop of hair. To which my cousin thanked him and said, “You’re so pretty.”

Ollie took the comment with grace and thanked her politely. Then my cousin took it there.

“Yep, so very pretty. Definitely a girl. A beautiful girl. Why would you ever want to be anything else when you’re so gorgeous?”

Ollie’s polite affect dropped like a stage play curtain after the final act. He saw what game was being played, and he could play too.

He flatly replied, “It has nothing to do with wanting to be anything. I am who I am.”

I wanted to pipe in, but I knew he had this covered. I’d had many conversations with him about people like this, and was confident he could handle this conversation with more integrity than I could. I waited.

My cousin let out a sarcastic laugh before commenting, “Oh, I know, everyone just wants us to accept it but no one wants to talk about it.”

“Oh, no. If you want to talk about it, let’s talk about it.” Ollie looked up at me and without a word I knew this was him asking for permission to speak freely. His eyes said she wants to go there, am I free to drop her off at school?

I smiled and nodded, and he continued.

“What would you like to talk about?” he asked her in the same sweetly sarcastic tone she’d been using.

“Well first of all, you know there are only two genders. I can tell you’re smart. You are either born a boy or a girl. You can play pretend all day, but that will never make it true. I can pretend to be a duck all day and quack, but at the end of the day, I’m not a duck!” was her well thought out point. I cringed inside.

Ollie didn’t miss a beat. “Gender and sex are two different things, but let's set that aside for right now. You say there are only boys and girls. I would point out that’s scientifically not true. What about intersex people?”

“That’s such a rare occurrence. It’s not relevant because the percentage of truly intersex people is so small,” she shot back, unprepared for the slam dunk he’d set himself up for. “It’s too rare to even count.”

“Actually, it’s about as rare as being naturally red headed like you. The percentage of intersex people and red-headed people are right around the same. One you can see and the other you can’t, which is why you don’t realize how common it is.”

And BOOM goes the dynamite. I could’ve screamed. She was so taken aback by this 14-year-old that had just made her sound like she didn’t know what she was talking about. She was starting to anger, and her next point had no relevance to the conversation that she wanted to have in the first place. Her voice went up a couple of octaves.

“See — all you kids these days know about is “’science’ and ‘facts!’” she said, as if that were a bad thing. “I bet you can’t even name the first ten books of the Bible, though, can you? That’s the real problem.”

Now, I could not list the first ten books of the Bible if you held a gun to my head, but my kids went to church with my in-laws for years. I let them go to make up their own minds on what they believed, and to do that you need to hear all the sides of the argument. When they did not want to attend any longer, I didn’t make them go. Because my cousin knows I’m not a religious person, she believed I’d indoctrinated my children to my own beliefs — or lack thereof — because that is what she did. She thought this was a sure “win” for her.

Not just irrelevant, though it was that. Also, wrong.

“Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts, Romans, 1 Corinthians, 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians”, Ollie replied with a smile, while counting them off on his fingers. “Would you like the first 5 of the Old Testament while we’re at it? Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. Though, I’m not sure why or how that is relevant in any way.”

Oh. My. God.

Excuse the expression, but that was a flawless victory if I’d ever seen one. I stifled back my laughter. Someone, however, did not find it as amusing as Ollie and I did.

“You think you’re so smart!,” my cousin shrieked in rage. Her face was fully red, and she looked like her pointy little head was about to explode. “You’re just a smart-ass kid. I’m an adult! You don’t know anything about life yet! You know I’m right!”

This is when I stepped in, turning the phone back to me.

“Oh, no, sweetie. What we’re not going to do is all that disrespectful screaming and rudeness,” I said, curtly. “Just because you’ve been outmatched by my teenager doesn’t mean you get to call me after a decade and scream at my child who you don’t know — and will never have the pleasure of knowing.”

“I understand you’re having hard time coming to term with reality pertaining to your oldest child, but I’m pretty sure you’re projecting your problems with him onto me and my child. That seems like something you should really reflect upon, honestly. In private.”

I could hear her shrieking intelligibly as I pressed the button that ended the call. I looked up at my kid and smiled. He smiled back.

Me n My Minnie Me <3

#transgender #lgbtq #lgbtq community #parenting #gender stuff #love #roasted #trans pride #lgbt pride

2 notes · View notes

leandra-winchester · 1 year

Note

Trans people aren't a threat to cis women

We need to stand together with them bc as women we understand what it's like to feel unsafe, to feel targeted and to feel governments at large don't care about our protection.

To have people not care if we're attacked, assaulted and killed. A reality trans people face as much as cis women do.

I know you are intelligent, we've spoken and you are methodical and logical. But you are hitting the exact same speaking points TERFs always do.

Bc TERF mentality needs you to believe that cis women are the victims of the trans movement. Otherwise it's just needlessly hateful bigotry.

The examples are also on an individual level, as opposed to the system wide threat trans peoples existence is under.

I... Seeing you write that was genuinely shocking. And disheartening. I know you said you wanted to write a calmly thought out post about this, but the end result would have been the same regardless.

I know these words of mine won't undo 3 years of this.

I'm not going to say something scathing bc we have spoken before and I believe that you do want the best for others, and that you value nuance and taking other View points into account.

But I do think that you've listened to enough TERF rhetoric claiming they're the victims that you believe that to be the case.

I know most likely you will rebut some points in this, and I'm willing to try and discuss it with you though not tonight

Scrolling past that post, I was actually floored to see you had written it. It's rocked me a bit. But that offer is open

I agree with you. Trans people are no danger to women. Normal trans people who just want to live their lives, who want to live free from discrimination and find ways to alleviate their dysphoria. I have absolutely no issue with them; I support them and their rights.

But - and yes, I am rebutting here - the TRA movement doesn't and shouldn't reflect all trans people.

Please explain to me how it can be seen as okay or justified for any of them sending rape and death threats to "TERFS". I posted the receipts of those instances, and said those were only a tiny, tiny portion of all the verbal and physical violence that has been well-documented over the past.

At some point you have to realize that these people have hijacked a movement. They are not "on the right side of history".

The bare minimum basis for any kind of meaningful discussion, imho, is to acknowledge that such activism is going more than just one step too far.

We can talk about bathrooms (which is something I have a very nuanced opinion on and have listened to both sides, understanding both). We can talk about what alternative there should be for incarcerated trans women so that they can be safe from male violence, too. We can talk about all of that.

But we cannot talk about literal threats of violence and some of the worst kind of misogyny being in any way justified.

I can return the kindness and compliment that you are a logical and compassionate person. If that is the case and my impression isn't wrong, then this is something you must condemn!

Also, as for what "rhetoric" I've listened to. It's been a very diverse selection of people and sources. Many of them leftist, many of them academics, women who have devoted their lives to truth and science such as Dr. Debra Soh, Kathleen Stock; and trans people like Debbie Hayton.

Even if I hadn't listened to anyone else but these three, my opinion on these matter would be the same.

The term "TERF" is utterly meaningless these days, because everyone who doesn't agree with the established narrative is labelled a TERF. Buck Angel, trans man, has been called a TERF ffs.

The thing is, we aren't arguing over actual talking points here. That's hardly ever the approach and conversation. It's always just about who is a TERF and which side is bad. It's never about the details. And that's not how discourse works. But we cannot have actual discourse because if always gets shut down with matras such as "oh but that's TERF rhetoric."

Okay, so maybe it is. And then I'm embracing that. Because it's utterly meaningless.

So yes, let us talk about actual points here instead of who is called what by whom.

Actual point I'm proposing to start with:

What can and should we do with people who claim to be trans women once they get arrested/sentenced, and who have committed acts of sexual or other violence against women? Is their chosen identity valid? And if so, is that validity more relevant than the safety of women in the prisons they are being sent to? In short: does a chosen (and not even psychologically backed and assessed) identity trump women's lives?

(Funnily, when I or others asked this question 3 or 2 years ago, people always refuted it by saying "oh that won't happen. That's just TERF rhetoric. That's not a thing". Well, it provenly is a thing now. Isla Bryson, Barbie Kardashian, and many many more)

The ball is in your court.

#feminism #trans rights activism #male violence

13 notes · View notes

iridawn · 9 months

Text

Untitled Dysphoria One-Shot

this is definitely more of a personal one, but... eh, whatever. (vent piece, maybe? not really, though...) short, simple, but i just wanted to get it outta my system.

i've wanted to do something like this for jewel box for a while -- and i still might -- but i've been a bit hesitant, so im doing it here. dawn's transness is something i hold very close to my heart, and it's a bit personal whenever i write dysphoria stuff like this, regardless of who i'm writing it for and all that jazz.

it's just... i dunno. i wouldnt wanna do it for a published jewel box chapter cause part of me's kinda worried about it coming off poorly, or anything along those lines. i dont wanna write something that people would be upset with, that's not my intent. i did want to do it at some point, though. it's an idea i really liked, and it's a bit more of a personal thing, is all. hopefully you enjoy it, as heavy as it is

but anywho. dawn has a bit of a crappy morning, and her girlfriend comforts her in whatever way she can.

tw for dysphoria

God.

Dawn looked in the mirror as she felt the dread on her forehead.

She had just gotten up, so her hair was a bit messy. She was going to do that, but…

Perhaps she just had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, but she did not like looking at the person in the mirror. Not at the moment.

Look at that stubble. God, you need to shave. And your face is so… masculine. The way her face was shaped was something that always stuck out to her when she was feeling bad.

And now she was noticing the rest of her body. The parts of it that she hated. The amount of hair on her arms, the fact that she didn’t really have the same body type as a cis woman…

Dawn hated spiraling. She really, really did. She knew it was not healthy in the slightest, and she knew it only led to bad things. But it was so hard to ignore. And she hated putting herself up to these standards, but it was just hard to ignore.

The parts of her she wanted to be feminine were masculine, and there were options for it, but they felt so far away, still. Dawn was still only about two or so years into her transition, anyway. And sure, she had been doing things to help alleviate that pain a little. To make it not as bad, y’know?

Stuff like makeup. Doing her nails every so often. Maybe she’d try a new hairstyle or two.

But every time, that nag in her head would sometimes come out.

“You still look like a man.”

She knew it was ridiculous. She knew that she still had so much time to go, that there were still incredible things that could happen to her and were going to happen to her, and that she had a lot of support. Dawn knew all of these things, and she knew that these thoughts never helped.

And yet, they persisted.

All Dawn could do is stare in the mirror blankly, her brain pointing out all the things about herself she didn’t like.

She wanted to move, she wanted to just do something else, hell, maybe she’d actually shave. Dawn always felt pretty good after that. She just wanted to do something to get out of this spiral she was in.

But all she could do is just stare at the person in the mirror, and how that person’s body was not the body she wanted to have, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever have it.

All these parts about her were difficult to straight up impossible to remove. And to think, if fate had been different, hell, if she had spoken up a bit more, she wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.

Dawn loved being trans, and she was so happy to be who she was. That part of her identity was a huge part of who she was, too, so it’s not like she hated it. Far from it. She wouldn’t change any of that for the world, but she still couldn’t help this spiral she was in. Sometimes these moods of dysphoria just hit her like a truck, and though she knew they were ridiculous, it was hard to ignore.

Was it stupid? Yes. Very.

But it was also entirely out of her control, it felt like. She wanted to stop her brain from thinking like this, but… unfortunately, that’s just not how things seemed to work for her, most of the time.

Fuck, it was bad today.

I don’t deserve the things I have, because everybody’s just putting up with it. They’re all being nice to me, because they don’t want to lie and tell me they actually think I’m just a man masquerading around in a dress. I feel disgusting. I—

“Dawn.”

Dawn snapped out of her thoughts, jumping a little as she looked to her side to see a very worried looking Irida.

“…Are you okay?”

Dawn wanted to say something to reassure her. I’m fine, Irida. No need to worry about me, just woke up a little funny, that’s all. She wanted to say that, to make Irida not worry about her. Give her a smile, a hug, and a very nice kiss. To blow this entire thing off, and just have a nice morning.

But Dawn just stood there and stared at her, the worried expression on her face almost making her feel worse. She looked down at the floor of the bathroom for a few seconds, before looking back up at Irida.

“…’m okay.” Dawn’s voice was weak. She tried to give a weak smile to Irida, but couldn’t really muster anything more than a very slight curve of the lips.

Irida’s frown remained, clearly not believing Dawn. But she simply walked forward and wrapped her arms around Dawn, pulling her into a hug. Dawn remained motionless, but Irida rested her head onto her girlfriend’s shoulder, the warm embrace helping Dawn become a bit more grounded.

She slowly wrapped hers around Irida as well, her eyes beginning to tear up. She didn’t make any noises, she just held Irida close, enjoying this comforting embrace.

“…I think you look beautiful, Dawn.”

Dawn’s hug around Irida tightened a little at those words. Sure, it was a very small gesture, and it’s not like it immediately fixed things. But it made her feel a little better, at the very least, and she was thankful for that more than anything else.

Irida pulled back, looking into Dawn’s eyes.

“Honestly, it’s like every single day, you get a little prettier. It blows me away, really… that I got as lucky as I did, to fall in love with you.”

Dawn looked at Irida with a slightly weak smile, her eyes still watering. Irida wiped a few of the tears on her cheek, a weak laugh coming from Dawn. Another simple gesture, but it was sweet.

“…Thanks for getting that.”

“No worries at all, Dawn.”

Dawn sighed, pulling Irida in once more. “…Sorry you gotta deal with me like this.”

“I’m not dealing with anything, Dawn.” She gave Dawn a kiss on the cheek. “I care about you more than anything, and I’ll always be here for you, no matter how you’re feeling or doing. And if you’re not at your best, then I’ll do whatever I can to help, regardless of what it is.”

“…thanks, hon.”

Dawn squeezed Irida a little tighter once more, tears still on her face. She wasn’t sobbing, but they were still coming out. Irida hummed lightly, rubbing Dawn’s back gently.

They stayed in this embrace for a bit, their eyes closed. It was helping Dawn ground herself, and she was thankful for that. She still didn’t feel her best, but having someone as wonderful as her girlfriend to help her calm down was very helpful.

“Do you want to head back to bed and just cuddle for a bit?”

Dawn looked up and nodded. “Would be pretty nice.”

“Okay, Dawn. Whatever works for you.” Irida gave a genuinely happy smile to Dawn, which made her heart do leaps.

She hated being down like this, but having Irida there to help her through it would be a huge help. It always was.

They’d find ways to help Dawn cheer up later, but for now, Dawn just wanted to take things easy.

With that, Dawn led the way back to her room, and to their bed, to just relax for a while. Cuddling with Irida was always a nice pick-me-up.

They'd work through the rest of the day later. She just needed to relax, for now. And she was grateful she would do that with the love of her life.

#jewel box lite

5 notes · View notes

rue-bennett · 1 year

Note

Sorry rant incoming but it makes sense to me low-key bc I think she's a performative activist. Like she doesn't actually give a shit about peoples struggles in any meaningful way which is why she made a hoopla about becoming political and then made cookies one time? Or something. If you refuse to be political on the basis imma side eye you but ok bc we shouldn't be looking to celebs for politics. she tries to court progressives without ever doing anything to alienate a conservative fanbase. I don't think she's spoken up about the drag ban when lizzo and Hayley kiyoko have bc I don't think she want to risk alienating that side of the fandom. I think if you asked her point blank her opinions on issues I think her answers would fall in line with a lot of her fanbases morals but I don't see her voluntarily actually making meaningful statements. The never being political thing isn't even accurate bc shes always been political, she spoke up about sexism all the time, the difference is she was advocating for for herself bc she was personally affected.

I don't think I'll ever forget how she decided to sue? Or take down an article pointing out her big white surp. Fanbase instead of just making a statement about.. not wanting white supremacist in her fanbase. It's one think to not denounce republicans and another if you won't even say I don't want proud boys to be my fans lol.

Like I get being non political or the fear of being political because your career would be impacted but not only has she risen above bein negatively impacted by speaking out (other smaller pop stars are doing it) there have been other country artists who have so much more to lose who have protested the ban why wearing drag in their concerts. If she had never "become political" maybe if be less annoyed more just side eye but she centered an entire comeback around supporting queer people (not well imo) and now barely speaks up about issues they face. She used it to rebrand but I dont see her rocking the boat to really denounce all the stuff going on rn drag etc. It's pretty easy to sum up the point in that she made two cottagecore albums and was at the top of that celeb jet list. It's all performative.

Idk I think Taylor's a nice person. I think she's talented and charming and funny and I'm not surprised she has so many people that like her because she does nice things for fans, and friends and is generous in her personal life it's just the nice is different than good. I don't actually care of she's dating him I would prefer her to just be honest and be like I don't give a fuck about being progressive enough to actually take personal risks.

I mean yeah I don’t have a lot to add here because I don’t think you’re wrong. I will say I wish she said more absolutely, but I just know it ain’t gonna be the case and my expectations for pop stars have adjusted dramatically. I definitely agree being nice is different than good and idk how exactly to define it. I will add that LGBT rights is one of the few things she’s been outspoken/clear on, even if it was to promote an album, she’s mentioned it pretty consistently since then. And she has dancers in drag with her on stage during this tour, nb/trans performers, lots of LGBT (or at least lesbian and bi, idk about nb/trans?) openers. Not saying it makes up for anything or trying to paint her as a saint. I don’t think she or anyone else is. But yeah idk. My feelings on her activism (and sometimes lack of it) are complicated.

#she’s not a risk taker except for when she is #idk #asks #anonymous #celeb talk #long post #ts talk

2 notes · View notes

darktreeroots · 10 months

Text

Juniperstorm’s Faith

4.5k

List of important characters:

Juniperstorm: the sole MarshClan medicine cat. A nb transmasc cat born a she-cat with red fur with faint lighter red markings.

Whiteflower: the sole BroadleafClan medicine cat. A he/she she-cat with golden fur, short ears, and white markings all over his body.

Heronstar: the current leader of MarshClan. A trans tom, littermates with Shatteredmask. Known to be sharp, strong, and occasionally cruel. A fair ruler.

Fawnthroat: one of the two deputies of MarshClan. A trans tom, littermates with Whirlcrest and Thornblaze. Looks identical to his father, Wolfwatcher, who was the former deputy of MarshClan. Both he and his father have markings very similar to that of a wolf. Mates with Shatteredmask. Intelligent.

Wolfwatcher: the former deputy of MarshClan. A cis tom, father to Fawnthroat. Looks a lot like a wolf. Father of Fawnthroat. Succeeded by Shatteredmask after his disappearance one day. Cruel and sharp.

Shatteredmask: one of the two deputies of MarshClan. A cis tom, littermates with Heronstar. Calm and peaceful. Mates with Fawnthroat.

Sandback: a BroadleafClan who is mates with Thornblaze. Father of Poppypaw and Mistpaw

“Whiteflower? Can is it okay if I discuss something with you?” Talldapple turns back toward them and Juniperstorm shoots her an apologetic look. The she-cat scoffs at him before choosing to walk back towards CloudClan land, giving them a few moments to themselves.

“Thank you!” He calls out but his only response is a tail flick as the black and white spotted cat disappears into the tall grasses.

“I think that’s the rudest you’ve even been.” Whiteflower remarks, turning his head and giving them a small smile, “Has the sweet and gentle Juniperstorm finally lost his shit? Is he going to start tearing heads off?” Whiteflower chuckles and Juniperstorm forces their face into neutrality. As always, Whiteflower’s laughter was infectious but Juniperstorm actually has something important to tell her.

“This isn’t a time for jokes, Whiteflower.” Juniperstorm hits him with the tip of their tail, “I have a question for you, and I want you to answer honestly.”

Whiteflower blinks, pale blue eyes widening for a moment before she nods.

“What would you do if you believed your leader was being unreasonable?” Juniperstorm asks and immediately Whiteflower lets out a mrrow of laughter.

“What, is Heronstar being odd again? You complained about him the second he became leader too.” Whiteflower laps his chest fur, “And why ask me? You know that Morningstar is never unreasonable. Even Vastspots seems like she doesn’t do anything without thinking about it five times over…and I almost gave Dustcloud parsley instead of borage the other day. Ah.” Whiteflower’s short ears lower, “If you’re looking to gossip about unreasonable people, you should really choose anyone but me.”

“Ignoring your personal errors.” Juniperstorm says, “I’m asking you because you are not only a medicine cat but my good friend. And no, I’m not talking about Heronstar. I’m talking about Fawnthroat…and Heronstar, by extension.”

Whiteflower flicks her eye, a sign for them to continue, “He’s being. Odd. Keeps on ordering people all over the place and making people do weird things. Dragonpaw has had an infection for nearly a quarter moon now but refused to tell me. And I know my own kin would never stay away from me with such a serious issue.”

“Isn’t this the second time this has happened?”

“The third, actually.” Juniperstorm snaps, “I apologize. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that I just—I don’t know what’s been happening recently. First Wolfwatcher goes missing and then Shatteredmask becomes deputy. Fawnthroat was already commanding people around then but no one ever stopped him? Shatteredmask let him because they’re mates but Heronstar?”

Juniperstorm lets out a low, tired laugh, “If there was a single cat I expected to not bow down to Fawnthroat, it would have been him. But even he is just sitting back and letting her do whatever he wants. And now that he’s deputy, he—it’s sad, seeing him like that. He barely hunts anymore and tries to hide it by the fact that he keeps on going on patrols.”

“Does he ever go on those patrols with Fawnthroat or Shatteredmask? And does he only hunt when those two are occupied?”

“Well, uh—” Juniperstorm stumbles over their words, unbalanced for a moment. He hadn’t expected anyone to talk them seriously: the warriors always tell them they worry too much and even apprentices tend to turn their noses up at him, “—yes? But, kinda no?”

Whiteflower comes closer until their pelts are brushing, turning his head upward to look directly into Juniperstorm’s eyes, “What do you mean by ‘kinda no’?” There’s a cold wind that comes down from the mountains and goes right through Juniperstorm’s thin fur, “Do they stop some time after Wolfwatcher disappeared?”

“Soon, I think? Whiteflower, I don’t like the look on your face. What are you thinking?”

“Perhaps what you should have always thought.” Whiteflower says, moving close enough that their noses are touching, “Juniperstorm, when exactly did Wolfwatcher disappear? What was he doing?”

The hair on their back begins to rise as Juniperstorm thinks back to that day. It’s hazy, originally a day like any other but there was one thing in particular.

“They—”

“Separate.” A rough voice snaps, “Unless I was sorely mistaken about the honor those in my position held.” The apprentice talks to them roughly, standing above them both. Waspclaw lashes his scarred tail, rustling the branches, making the other medicine cats mew and gather up.

“Calm down.” Juniperstorm replies, “Whiteflower and I were simply discussing something. There’s no need to get yourself torn up about it, Waspclaw.”

“I am simply protecting the sanctity of this position.” Waspclaw replies. For a moment, Juniperstorm wonders what on earth they’re teaching their cats over there. They know that Waspclaw already has a family of his own, does he think he’ll make anything any better if he tries to be so loud and forward about being perfect?

“Finally.” Talldapple says, “Are you two finished?”

Juniperstorm looks back at Whiteflower, searching for a frantic gaze that will tell them that there’s something he’s missing.

But in her eyes, he sees only calm water.

“Yes, we are.”

Juniperstorm watches them carefully, like a warrior hunting a carp under a layer of ice. He watches the way they move around each other, how once a pair of two and sometimes three was so firmly two and one.

“What you implied last time must be impossible.” Juniperstorm says as he lowers his ears so they won’t brush against the walls of the tunnels. The cold goes straight to their bones as usual but he brushes it off in favor of whispering directly into Whiteflower’s ear, “They’re acting strange, but I don’t believe they actually had a hand in Wolfwatcher’s disappearance. For StarClan’s sake, Wolfwatcher was Fawnthroat’s father.”

“You would know better than I.” Whiteflower responds, “Did they love each other?”

Juniperstorm stills, “They respected each other. Fawnthroat respected his father as deputy and Wolfwatcher…respected all that his son had accomplished.”

“That doesn’t sound like a yes.” Whiteflower says and they have no rebuttal.

“If Morningstar or Vastspots was being unreasonable, what would you do?” Whiteflower gives them a blurry-eyed and baffled look. Juniperstorm gives her a moment to compose himself, after all it is the middle of the night. He had left camp the moment after the evening patrol returned, praying to StarClan that no one would do something stupid like sleep in a puddle and half-drown themselves.

They needed to talk to Whiteflower. Now.

“Unreasonable?” Whiteflower flicks his ears, “Depends on what they were doing. If they’re following the warrior code, I can’t really do much against it.”

“What.” Juniperstorm lowers his voice to a growl, “You mean that even if it was unfair, you would stop them if they were in line with the warrior code?”

“Well, yes.” Whiteflower replies, rubbing his eyes with white-tipped paw, “Because I know that neither of them would do something without thinking through it five times over. For you though…” Whiteflower yawns and shakes himself, “It depends on what power you think you have over them. If it’s only Fawnthroat saying something, then if you get Shatteredmask and Heronstar on your side, then it’s three against one.”

But it’s never like that! Juniperstorm wants to cry but they know he can’t spill everything that’s on his mind. Even though he and Whiteflower may be close, they’re still from different Clans. Whiteflower was obligated to report everything to his Clan leader if she thought it would give them an edge up during battle. It’s why Juniperstorm was here, under the cover of night, pelt covered in bark flakes to hide their MarshClan scent.

“And if it was under the warrior code, unfair, and all three of them were against me?” Juniperstorm dares to ask.

“You hope that StarClan is on your side and willing to intervene.” Whiteflower says, pressing their heads together as Juniperstorm suppresses a wail, “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear. But have faith. You can hear our ancestors, they will guide us. Besides, StarClan would not make either of them leader if they did what we are accusing them of.

“It’s not as if you could redeem yourself from such a thing.”

Are you sure? Juniperstorm stares at Whiteflower as Heronstar makes the announcement to the Clans the very next night. Are you sure they’re listening? They ask with their eyes, watching as Whiteflower’s eyes grow as tiny as beetles as Heronstar renames three cats in front of the entire clan for their disloyalty.

“It has come to my attention that one of my warriors has not only taken a LaurelClan cat as a mate, she had also decided to not only have kits with that cat, but also pass those kits onto LaurelClan instead of using them to strengthen our own clan.” Heronstar calls out, standing tall as he captivates the entire Gathering. Even as Juniperstorm captures all of Whiteflower’s attention and holds it under their path like he would a mouse.

“Not only one of my warriors, but the family of my deputies, the direct kin of Fawnthroat.”

He doesn’t even look upset. Just proud.

“And so, from this day forward, they shall be given new names to reflect their roles in their deception. Whirlcrest,” Heronstar looks down at her. Whirlcrest is rooted to the ground, “You knowingly hid this affair from us and even helped the other offenders hide Clearfrost’s body. For that, you will be renamed Crowfood, for your distasteful actions and mishandling of a body. Clearfrost was a warrior, he should have been returned back to his Clan for a vigil. Not poorly buried.”

No one calls out Crowfood’s name.

“Sandback,” Heronstar whips around to glare at the tom, who has a defiant expression on his face before Heronstar starts speaking, “You may claim ignorance, but if you do so you are admitting that for whatever reason, you didn’t prevent the main offender from claiming her first litter as your own. Do you do so?”

Sandback, tellingly, remains silent, “So you admit your guilt in this scheme?”

“I…admit my guilt.” Sandback lowers his head.

“Good. For your crimes of hiding the truth, mishandling a body, and continued prolonged contact and even going so far to actually become mates with the main offender and form a family that will be tainted by your actions, you have been renamed Rotjaw. It would do you good, to just come to the leader in future situations instead of keeping it to yourself.”

“And finally,” Heronstar says, puffing out his chest as he looks down at Thornblaze. Out of the three of them, she is usually the most outspoken. For a moment, Juniperstorm is surprised that she isn’t fighting back before they realize that that was the point of all this: the whole show at a Gathering, all the presentation. It was to bring her down bit by bit until she couldn’t even look her leader in the eyes, “We have the main offender.

“First, I am stripping you of your name.” The nameless cat gapes at Heronstar, “You do not deserve the name you were both with, nor the name you were given as a warrior. Believe me, count yourself lucky that you weren’t stripped of your name and then exiled, but my deputies talked me out of it. Instead, you get something different.”

Heronstar laughs, long and slow and for a moment this is the Heronstar they have always know. Not the cat who slunk around, unwilling to ever be on his own or be alone with his own deputies for long stretches of time. Not the cat who knew who murdered his former deputy.

No, this is the cat who laughs in the face of failure, who never stood down from a fight. This is the cat who commands respect and even split his Clanmate’s blood to get it.

“No, you are special. First of all, you shirked your duties to repeatedly meet a cat from an enemy Clan. You betrayed your Clan by exhausting your energy on a secret mate instead of using it to defend our borders. Of course, you needed someone to cover for you and who else would you choose but your dear twin sister, Crowfood, who helped you every step of the way. Even going so far to help you bury Clearfrost’s body. And thirdly—then you had kits by Clearfrost and pretended that they were Rotjaw’s. And for seasons you made no attempt to live up to your crimes, nor acknowledge them. You tried to go on like StarClan would forgive you for your errors if you tried to be better!”

“Now, Nameless one, is that how things work?”

Now, Heronstar, are you hoping for a negative answer?

“For all your crimes, you are to be renamed Festerflesh: you are a blight to MarshClan and we must deal with it quickly and cut it off before it has time to spread it’s ideals. May Poppypaw and Waterpaw not follow by your example.”

Juniperstorm’s hair stands on end, turning away from Whiteflower for a moment to look into the crowd and—of course Poppypaw and Waterpaw are there. Of course Heronstar wanted them to be there when their parents were renamed.

He turns back to Whiteflower, meeting his beetle-tiny gaze with exhaustion in his eyes.

Are you sure? They want to ask, Are you sure they’re listening?

Starlingblossom gets her medicine cat name partway into Fawnstar’s reign. They didn’t know it yet, but it was when Fawnstar was already four lives down, two of them completely hidden from them. Only Shatteredmask knew him completely, but it was Juniperstorm who got to know just how accurate Fawnstar’s assumptions had been.

“My son. My dear son, my murderer. I give you your final live for decisiveness. May you always do what must be done for the Clan’s benefit.” Wolfwatcher said, eyes shining with emotion, “My dear son. Go forth and lead MarshClan with a light heart and heavy fist. May not even blood ties stop you from doing what needs to be done.”

Juniperstorm scoffs at the memory, tail lashing with irritation. Just how dare he forgive Fawnstar for killing him? How dare StarClan allow something like this to happen? Not only did Fawnstar get Wolfwatcher killed, he got Shatteredmask to do the dirty work?

How did I never notice that something like this was happening?

Why hasn’t anything stopped this?

Why haven’t I stopped anything?

Juniperstorm was still deep in thought as Starlingblossom bounded into the den, twisting and twirling around Toadleap. Juniperstorm watches them for a few moments, knowing that they’re both old and careful enough to watch out for the herbs. And they need it, MarshClan has had so much death recently. Part of the training she was—had—passed on to Starlingblossom was accepting that the dead were dead, and sometimes the dead were still alive. Sometimes there was nothing you could do for a cat.

Though flimsy things couldn’t do much when you’re desperately trying to save a cat who is your best friends littermate, from full-body burns because her parents had told her to jump through a fire to prove her worth.

Swampleaf’s body still haunted her and perhaps always would. They knew that Starlingblossom still wasn’t sleeping well at night, and had started sneaking Toadleap into the den to share a nest. he turned a blind eye to it—he knew well what it was like to have a friendship that looked so much like mates. Even if he and Whiteflower weren’t medicine cats or even weren’t from different clans, they still wouldn’t have been mates. They would love each other no matter where they were.

“Starlingblossom?” Juniperstorm calls out.

“Fine, fine, we’ll take it outside.” Starlingblossom says with a low groan, but Juniperstorm just shakes his head, “What is it then?”

“Please, whatever happens, never bow your head.” Juniperstorm tells her, staring their apprentice straight in the eyes, “If something happens, stand up against it. Raise your head, Starlingblossom, and never lower it.”

Never lower it, Starlingblossom. Juniperstorm thinks to themself as they gasp for air. Fawnstar watches them passively, uncaring for their pain. For a moment, Juniperstorm thinks they deserve it before they remember Fawnstar’s long list of crimes.

Killing his father. Killing the deputy. Pushing Heronstar to his death. Being cruel. Abusing their power. Not stopping so much even though he has all the power.

Juniperstorm gasps for air, meeting Starlingblossom’s eyes through the thick grasses. If they hadn’t spent over three years together, he wouldn’t have ever recognize their pelt through the thick barrier. Good. MarshClan still needs a medicine cat, it’s better to have one who has a strong will and knows the plantlife better than he does.

Better Juniperstorm die than Starlingblossom.

And well, if he’s going to die he might as well get some things off his chest.

“He shouldn’t have forgiven you.” Juniperstorm says as he struggles to his feet. Blood drips down his neck, pooling on the ground, “Wolfwatcher shouldn’t have honored you with a final life.”

Fawnstar’s claws are unsheathed and bloody. Blood covers his paws, even covering the star on his front left leg. The battle is coming to an end but he still seems like he’s a second away from leaping at them.

“Yet he did.”

“That was a mistake.” Juniperstorm laughs, “You’ve ruined this Clan. If I listed out every day whose life you personally had a hand in ruined, I’d still be talking in StarClan.”

“I would rather you be silent.” Fawnstar says, fur flat but he still has a stark resemblance to his father and the beast he was named after, “After all, you are not going to survive this. It’s a shame you were so close to the battle, were you looking for anyone?”

“Looking to give me a new name?” Juniperstorm laughs, “Wished that you waited until Heronstar was dead to renamed the sisters you always hated?” Fawnstar gives him a thunderous look but Juniperstorm laughs harder, causing more blood to spurt from his chest.

Cold is spreading through their body, leaving only a rage.

“I hate you.” Juniperstorm admits, “I’ve hated you for a long time. Did you know how much trust I had in StarClan, how much time and energy I gave into following their every order? Did you know how much of it you shattered by becoming leader. By being welcomed as leader.”

Fawnstar turns away, yellow eyes uninterested.

Juniperstorm wants to talk more but can’t find the energy. They’re cold. So, so cold. He should have been watching, he knows he shouldn’t have walked into an active battleground as only a medicine cat. Maybe Whiteflower…maybe Whiteflower would have always been okay, maybe Juniperstorm didn’t need to warn her about about the sneak attack.

But Juniperstorm knew that Fawnstar was allowing his warriors to go after medicine cats and knew that he couldn’t let that happen.

I’m going to die, but I cannot regret it. Dying in an attempt to save a friend? I should have done that, so long ago. Juniperstorm sinks to the ground, panting heavily, I’ll get to StarClan, and make them all see what they should be doing. I’ll make them strip you of their lives, you’ll be a disgrace larger than—

A screech shatters the air, louder and closer than everything else.

Fawnstar whirls around just in time to catch a golden cat by their fur and toss them—him away.

“Whiteflower?” Juniperstorm whispers. Their eyesight has gone blurry but they would recognize the white markings and white-tipped paws anywhere.

The thunderous expression though, that’s new.

“What have you done?!” Whiteflower yowls, blood dripping down his shoulder, “First your father, then your leader, so do you take out Juniperstorm next?”

Fawnstar’s impervious expression shifts for a moment, yellow eyes turning to Juniperstorm and sharpening. They know that if they weren’t already dead, then Fawnstar would have actually killed them for giving Whiteflower so much information.

“I did nothing to her.” Fawnstar argues, “The blood on my paws is not hers.”

Whiteflower growls, “I don’t believe you. Here you are, with a medicine cat you are doing nothing to help and blood on your paws. Why on earth should I ever believe a word from your mouth?”

“Fine.” Fawnstar says, flicking his tail, “Don’t believe me.”

Shatteredmask leaps out of the undergrowth, claws outstretched. Whiteflower barely manages to dodge his first hit but the second slash catches him in the face, drawing deep marks down his muzzle.

“I would not harm Juniperstorm without reason.” Fawnstar says, sitting on his paws as the battle begins to die down. Juniperstorm can hear the triumphant screaming of their own Clanmates, “But you, a medicine cat that goes so far to accuse me for the murder of multiple of my own Clanmates? Well, I would hold back my full strength.” Fawnstar looks away from the two toms as they fight.

Shatteredmask is winning. Juniperstorm thinks as his vision blurs and takes too long to clear again. The pool of blood they’re lying in is beginning to get colder and colder, the wound curving down from their neck proving itself fatal. Whiteflower. Run. Please.

I don’t want to see you in StarClan for a long while. Didn’t you say that you were worried that Berrypaw would need more guidance?

Juniperstorm shifts, placing their paws under his head to raise it just enough to garner attention, “Whiteflower…” He rasps. Immediately, the BroadleafClan medicine cat falters and Shatteredmask claws him again, “Run. Run…home.”

Juniperstorm’s head falls but they don’t quite die yet. Not before Whiteflower tries to flee but Shatteredmask leaps on top of him, biting into her spine. Whiteflower yowls and tries to through him off but instead he sinks to the ground.

No. Whiteflower, get up!

“No…” Juniperstorm tries to get up but the motion kills him. Juniperstorm can feel that with certainty, his soul has snapped away from their body. He sees himself, laying on the ground in a pool of blood so black that it’s stark against their red fur.

He knows that StarClan is waiting for them, his ancestors are tugging on every hair on his pelt but he plants himself in this moment with all his might, watching.

Starlingblossom jumps into action with a screech, nearly trampling her mentor’s body as she surges forward. Shatteredmask stops for a moment, releasing Whiteflower’s fur to turn to his medicine cat. He opens his mouth, eyes soft like he’s ready for to warn her for dangers but Starlingblossom lunges for him instead, trapping his neck fur in her jaws like a hunter.

She knocks the larger deputy to the ground, tearing out all the fur she could get his hands on as Whiteflower drags himself away using his front paws.

Not yet! Juniperstorm cries out, digging his spiritual claws into the ground to try and anchor himself in this moment. He can’t wait until the next half-room meeting to talk to them again, he has to see it now. They are sick and tired of waiting for things to happen, or always standing back and never acting.

Fawnstar runs over to his deputy, ignoring Whiteflower completely as he tears the medicine cat away.

Starlingblossom hits the ground hard and is stunned for long enough for Fawnstar to plant his paw on her head, “What was your plan here?” Fawnstar hisses, “Don’t make me punish you for betrayal. Replacing a medicine cat might be difficult but not impossible.”

“Try it.” Starlingblossom spat, “Kill me and you’ve sealed your place in the Place of No Stars.”

“I have been a fair and just leader.” Fawnstar hisses in reply, “Wouldn’t you say so, Toadleap?” Fawnstar turns to his second deputy as they walk up, bloody and triumphant until he stops dead and stares at the scene in front of him: Juniperstorm, dead on the ground, Starlingblossom, bloody and pinned under his header, Whiteflower, desperately trying to drag himself away. Shatteredmask, standing to the side with a soft and blank expression and Fawnstar, staring at him with his wolf-like face.

“What…what is going on?” Toadleap says. Juniperstorm holds on tighter, pleading to anything that would listen, even the very earth, to allow her to stay just a bit longer, to let her see that everything works out in the end—

it doesn’t work. They unmoor from the ground, floating up to the stars. He can’t hear the rest, but stares down at the patch of ground as all the cats there continue to move.

Starlingblossom finds him first, surprising him but jumping out of the river and knocking him to the ground before he can react.

“Starlingblossom!” Juniperstorm cries out, shaking the water off his fur. He’s not mad, not really. More surprised that Starlingblossom managed to find him first, “Don’t sneak up on your old mentor like that. You might kill be twice.”

“Don’t joke around like that, Juniperstorm.” Starlingblossom says, flicking an ear, “Besides, then you won’t be able to hear that Whiteflower make it back home…paralyzed from the spine down, so he can’t use his back legs any longer but he’s still doing okay. He couldn’t make it to the half-moon meeting but he told me to tell you that, well.” Starlingblossom shuffles her paws, “Well…”

“She told me that she loves me, right?” Juniperstorm finishes for her embarrassed apprentice, “Don’t worry, we love each other the same way that you and Toadleap do—we weren’t mates.” He presses his head against his apprentices, “Tell her that I love her back. And I always will. Oh, and that Fawnstar didn’t actually kill me. I simply got ambushed.”

“You just got ambushed? By who?” Starlingblossom’s expression is so dark that Juniperstorm knows that she can never know who got her mentor killed, “Juniperstorm!”

“It wouldn’t do you any good to know.”

“Like it wouldn’t have done me any good to know that you weren’t a she-cat?” Starlingblossom says petulantly, though it does hide actual pain, “I thought you trusted me.”

“I thought it was always best to stand aside and let things happen.” Juniperstorm says in turn, pressing their muzzle to the top of their apprentice’s head, “It is not your fault I didn’t tell you. Only Whiteflower knew and that’s the way it stayed for years. I love you, Starlingblossom.”

Juniperstorm feels something tugging in their chest, a sign that their short meeting is coming to an end soon.

He uses his tail to raise Starlingblossom’s head, “Never keep yourself down. Lash out, get mad, make sure that you’re heard. Even if it’s three against one, even if the entire clan is against you. Starlingblossom, you are the smartest cat I’ve ever known. MarshClan is going to need your intelligence and support soon. There will be a rough patch but I know you will be able to help MarshClan surpass itself.”

Starlingblossom’s form wavers, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” But Starlingblossom is already gone.

Juniperstorm bites their lip and represses their anger at having so little power, even now.

#warrior cats #warriors oc #warriors au #allseeing eyes close #juniperstorm #whiteflower #toadstar #fawnstar #shatteredmask #starlingblossom #the renamed trio

1 note · View note

i-am-amy-amy-is-me · 2 years

Text

Fool’s Gold

@normal-horoscopes, I remember seeing an ask you had, someone asking what was a ‘true name’ for trans people, and you compared it to the difference between real gold and fool’s gold. (I’d link it but I can’t find it)

It got me inspired, and I ended up writing this thing. I hope you enjoy it.

The Seer has told me to write what troubled me. I don’t know how they knew, but I refuse to ignore them. Advice is rarely free, and theirs should never be ignored.

I.. I guess that means I’ll have to actually talk about it. Well then.

No one knew, but then again, how could they? None can tell the difference. When I was born and I was given my Medallion, I’d been revered in the family, beloved and appraised for being a strong being, someone who would surely do good and lead the masses into a better world.

The first thing I remember from my childhood is looking at the jewel that hung on my neck, suspended by a braided cord, and thinking about how very strange it looked.

The sign welded within the golden circle was a sign of leaders, world changers, true and strong.

I- I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.

It’s the right weight, right colour, right taste, but it feels so very wrong. And I don’t know how to tell that to my family.

—

Have you ever woken up with knowledge? As in, have you ever woken up and known something, whether that be the weather, or a death?

It’s how I feel, every time I wake up and feel the weight of that damned necklace around my neck. I know it will spell my doom. But I don’t know how, or when, or why.

—

The elder has never spoken my name, he always calls me ‘child’, even though I have passed childhood years ago.

To him, I probably am a child.

Still, I wish he wouldn’t call me that. Though, I don’t know if there’s a better alternative.

—

I can’t believe I’m considering it, but I am. No one has ever rejected their Medallion. At least, none that I know. It’s unspoken, quiet. The Medallion is yours until the end, and there’s nothing that can change that.

I don’t know why I should.

There are plenty of reasons why I shouldn’t

Why would I want to reject a life of greatness and power just because of a feeling?

It feels as though it’s choking me.

I just wish it would stop

—

Did you know there’s such a thing as a Crafter? I didn’t

Apparently they’re otherworldly beings that steal Medallions. I’ve never heard of that.

Medallions are tokens granted to us by powers outside our comprehension, they cannot simply be taken.

Right?

—

It seems Crafters are a recent development within our ecosystem. My family claims they have never heard of such a creature, but I think they might be lying.

But why would they?

—

The elder told me why.

Crafters are ethereal beings, beyond our understanding of Lore. Many are superstitious and do not speak their name, as to not attract them. I wonder why he does, though. Maybe they aren’t to be feared.

—

I met a wandering Crafter today. They don’t look scary. They followed me home though, didn’t seem to understand when I told them to go away. I just hope my family doesn’t visit soon. It doesn’t seem like they’re planning on leaving.

—

I tried to give them food. Winter is coming to a close, and if they are as solitary as I was lead to believe, then they may not have been able to gain much sustenance in the past months. They didn’t eat anything though, only stared at me.

It’s strange being stared at by something without eyes.

—

They’ve taken to wandering my house. I came from the market and they were inside the living room, staring at the fireplace. I got a fire started for them and they haven’t moved since.

I should probably get some wood, just in case this lasts.

—

There is nothing more startling than waking up with a Crafter’s face inches from yours, I can tell you that.

They seemed.. interested. In my Medallion, I assume, but they can take it for all I care. I just want to be rid of the damn thing anyway.

—

I-

Hello.

Something has happened

After gathering some vegetables for supper, the Crafter came and cornered me.

They wouldn’t let me get away, but they didn’t do anything. Just stared at me.

I’m ashamed to say I yelled at them.

They’ve stayed in my house for weeks now, and nothing I do makes them go away. I’ve found I don’t want them to go away.

I think I was hoping they’d steal my Medallion in the night, run off never to be seen again, but they’ve done no such thing.

Weeks with them, and that cursed token is still hanging around my neck.

I yelled and yelled until my voice was hoarse, yet they didn’t move.

I called them horrible things, but they didn’t even bother flinching.

Once I was done, out of breath, a migraine blooming in the back of my head, they extended their right hand.

I knew what they wanted, but I didn’t know if I had the strength to give it.

Despite all my secret wishes, taking off my Medallion myself was the one thing I desperately didn’t want to do.

It felt too much like admitting defeat.

But despite my conflicted feelings and the knot in my throat, I reached back and pulled the cord over my head.

People speak of nausea, despair, horror and distress when attempting to take off the Medallion. They feelings would grow so strong they wouldn’t be able to physically go through with it.

I didn’t even feel a pinch.

I deposited the golden token, the one that had accompanied me through my 23 years of life, softly in their open palm. Their milky skin accented nicely with the amber tones, and I couldn’t find an ounce of regret in my heart.

They looked at it and closed the palm over it, hiding it completely.

They shouldn’t have been able to do it, it was much too big. But in a blink, their hand was closed, and my Medallion was gone. When they opened it again, where I expected to find nothing, was another token, smaller than my previous one, but not abnormal by any means. It held a different symbol within it’s golden circle.

It was the symbol of Peace.

It was beautiful.

It softly reflected the sunlight and cast a golden ray across the room. I couldn’t move, could only look at it, at the Crafter, when they stepped closer and hung it around my neck.

It was attached to a silver chain, but it wasn’t cold on my skin. It felt warm, like a part of me that had been missing for a long time.

I think I was crying. I think they were too.

They put their hand on my cheek. It felt like sunlight, warm and inviting.

Then they were gone.

I haven’t seen them since.

I’ve met a few Crafters since then, turns out they can speak. I’ve housed quite a few. It’s the least I can do, after what one of their kind has done for me.

Still, I hope I get to see mine again.

Thank them, and maybe apologize for yelling.

It’s the least I can do.

#original fiction #original writing #i hope this is good #:)

303 notes · View notes

pokesplendor · 3 years

Photo

carmela’s team from my pokemon shield playthrough! not as happy with this bunch... info beneath the cut!

Graves - Inteleon - she/he - lesbian White - cis woman - age 30

Graves came from a very unconventional background prior to entering into the League circuit. Having raised since she was young by Interpol for undercover operations, she was there and experienced things a child shouldn’t for the sake of ‘justice.’ Who’s justice is really to question in this situation, as she never had a say. It’s only once she reached legal age did she take a ‘vacation’ and decide to try the league. That’s where she re-encountered Ella, who she had met on the job in the Champion’s guard. She uses her combat skills she gained from her rigorous upbringing, which you’d think would cause her to dominate the field, but that isn’t the case. She’s actually fairly bad at it.

She has a bit of a problem interacting with others. She was trained in how to act natural, friendly, and unassuming, but she doesn’t know how to not act. What’s Graves’ personality? Well, she’s a crybaby whenever she’s alone. Little things upset her, her anxiety ramps up her paranoia, and she keeps it all saved beneath the surface until she’s alone and then she cries. Other than crying in her off time, she’s a voracious reader, and particularly likes poetry.

If Graves could ever be honest with herself, she’d admit she’s fallen for Ella quite hard. That bright ball of sunshine brought a smile to her face in a way she hadn’t experienced before. But she wasn’t able to voice her feelings, and Ella is now sadly taken. She’s also a poor leader, along with a poor battler, and she doesn’t garner much respect from her team. She’s often spoken over by Crusher.

Crusher - Sirfetch’d - she/her - lesbian White - cis woman - age 34

Crusher likes to think she’s a gallant, chivalrous knight that leaves women quaking with soaked undies are her arrival and her deep, rusty voice sends shivers up their spine when she announces herself, and she’d like to think that everyone wants her around, but she’s wrong. She butted her way into Graves’ team, seeing its lack of, well, many things, leadership, power, attractiveness… They obviously would benefit from her accompaniment. She didn’t care what they had to say, she was going to be on their team and they were going to worship her for what she brings to the table. She’d like to think she’s wanted, but honestly, not very much so.

As if it wasn’t evidence enough, Crusher is extremely up her own ass, overconfident, and unfortunately, with enough power to back up her words. She’s a demon on the field, knocking enemies out with a single sweep sometimes. She works out on the regular, and doesn’t wear armor to show off her many (sexy) battle scars. Otherwise, she’s into collecting antique tea sets and little glass kittens to display back home. Her house is full of them.

Crusher likes to think (man she likes to think a lot of things) that everyone on the team is slightly in love with her, when she is tolerated at best. Goliath likes her, but Goliath likes everyone. He spots for her when they’re working out together, and she respects him for his strength. She’s especially hard on Thrasher and Maverick for not pulling their weight until they evolved, citing them as a weakness.

Goliath - Grimmsnarl - he/they - gay Japanese - nonbinary - age 21

Goliath hails from the Glimmwood Tangle, from quite a large and loving family, but he got it in his head that he had to see the world beyond the forest clearing, he wanted to see where all the people braving its endless maze to reach the gym were about, he wanted to know! A regular yearning princess wishing to see what’s beyond her tower she’s been trapped in. And this is the family business Matilda had to leave her swamp for, bringing his ass home. She got there a little too late, however, already picked up by Graves’ group and registered into gym fights. He couldn’t leave! He made a promise to help! And look at his cool new friends.

When not spent daydreaming about adventures he could be having, he likes to keep in shape. His family home requires constant upkeep, lest the magical wood overgrows anything manmade within a few days. He likes to read, despite struggling with it due to his dyslexia, and he hopes to write his own book one day about what he’s experienced, he wants to have an adventure worth filling a book with. He’s a very positive lad, a happy one, who tries to share the happiness with those around him.

Goliath is still young, but he’s pretty sure about who he is as a person, he knows where he stands on morals, and her own identity as well. He’s chivalrous and kind, always trying to get the team to work together and get along. It has varying results. Grievous loves to mother him, and he likes to think he’s pals with Graves. Despite being younger, he tries to protect Thrasher and Maverick.

Blitz - Centiscorch - she/her - queer White - cis woman - age 33

Blitz, like Graves, was raised by Interpol for infiltration and undercover work. Unlike Graves, however, while the Inteleon was sanded down to being a weak, anxiety-ridden mess, it only strengthened Blitz’ nerves of steel, causing her to become cold and calculating. She only joined the League circuit because she had a mandated vacation following losing her leg from the knee down, and she didn’t want to get rusty on her skills. Not to mention she saw Graves attempting to lead and failing at it and thought she’d stick around to demean her for her lack of anything worthy of use for Interpol’s workings.

She doesn’t have many hobbies, she likes working out, staying fit, and occasionally cooking some ultra healthy superfood, but it’s not like cooking is her passion. She doesn’t understand why people think you need to have a life outside of your work, she’s perfectly happy to just always be on the job and do as it demands. She smokes, but only the occasional cigarette so as to not negatively affect her health. She’s a woman of few loves, few words, and she thinks that’s just fine.

Blitz scoffs when the team tries to have any sort of ‘get to know each other’ exercise. It’s never in good faith, and just ends in disaster so she tries to avoid it. Grevious tries to mother her on occasion, for whatever reason, she never had a mother and she doesn’t want one, so she doesn’t understand why her face gets flushed and hands get sweaty when the dragon’s around.

Maverick - Corviknight - she/her - lesbian White - trans woman - age 32

Maverick is a failed knight from olden times; she was sealed in a tomb in the slumbering weld with her previous king as a way to protect him in the next life, only to be revived by Graves and Ella exploring the area. Being awoken in modern times, she had a lot to learn and get used to, part of it being her king is no more. The body is gone, and the tomb ransacked. She failed, and this weighs heavy on her shoulders through the journey. She agreed to follow Graves, sensing a nobility to her, Ella already having Thomasin by her side while Graves had no one. She is skilled in battle, if not unsure of herself due to her failings during both in the past, and while she was asleep.

She holds herself to high standards, almost impossible for her to meet, but no one else. She does not expect others to keep up her strict training regime, it is for her alone to shoulder the burden of being known as a failure. Despite that statement, Crusher constantly challenges her, and they’re often sparring with one another. In her off time, she enjoys weaving and is learning the modern trades of ‘sewing’ and ‘crochet.’ She enjoys making clothes for herself and others.

Her strict lifestyle doesn’t give her many moments to herself or to consider her feelings for others. She dedicates herself to a cause and thinks of little else. However she enjoys Grevious’ company. She does notice the occasional stares from others, such as Thomasin from Ella’s team, and she wonders what it could mean. Does she resent her for not joining Ella? It seemed only fair at the time.

Grevious - Dragapult - she/her - bi Vietnamese - trans woman - age 45

The ghost of a test pilot that went down during a new dirigible’s trial run over Galar. Her body was never found, believed to be incinerated by the blast, and her spirit has hung on to the area as she never got a proper burial. Graves, hearing her plight, followed her to her remains, giving her the burial she deserved. Freed from her prison, she was free to pass on, but she denied doing so, she had to repay Graves for her service. And so, she was conscripted to the gym challenge, one she had seen many travelers pass by speaking of such a thing and she was always curious just what exactly it was. She had heard things of course, but nothing is better than first hand experience.

Grievous is a very noble person, but not too stuffy either. She loves a good joke, she loves puns, and she loves giving people a good fright with her ghostly status. It’s all in good fun, she’d never do anything malicious or something that would genuinely harm others! She loves to fly, she had always loved to fly, and dying didn’t exactly rob her of that love. Now she can do it without a plane! She spent so long as spirit, she kind of forgot what having hobbies is like, and she’s trying new things!

She’s a very motherly person, and, being the oldest of the group, feels very maternal towards all the young little ones around her. She’s particularly concerned for Graves and Blitz upon hearing around their upbringing. That’s no way to treat a child! She does her best to tend to the others of the group. Though she would be lying if she didn’t say that Crusher pushed her buttons more than once.

Thrasher - Obstagoon - they/them - lesbian Black - transmasc nonbinary - age 24

Thrasher comes from a foster home full of wayward kids who grew up on the downward spiral of life, and they themselves weren’t an exception. Originally from Spikemuth, they never knew their parents and their foster home travels were rough. No one seemed to want to keep them, and at one point they got sick of it and ran away from home. They ran and ran and never looked back, and found a job working in the professor’s lab in Postwick. They didn’t ask them where they were from, nor tried to contact anyone else, so it was good for them. They met Graves early into their gym circuit and decided to join her to perform some field work for the professor.

They’re quite down on themselves, never feeling like they’ll accomplish anything of worth. They couldn’t be a good child, they’re not a good battler, it took them a while to come into their own, and Crusher needling them constantly didn’t help. In their spare time, they play guitar and sing covers of existing songs. They don’t have a knack for writing, just another thing they fail at. It’s been a tough life, and they stumble along the way constantly trying to get to a better tomorrow.

Thrasher is a shy sort when it comes to their feelings, they haven’t been engendered into showing their vulnerable side to others. And Graves’ group isn’t exactly what you’d call family. But it’s a nice change of pace and they almost feel… wanted. And Grevious is a nice addition to their life. To have such a motherly person doting on them is, well, a dream come true.

#pokemon gijinka #pokemon humanization #inteleon #sirfetch'd #grimmsnarl #centiskorch #corviknight #dragapult #obstagoon #graves #crusher #goliath #blitz #maverick #grevious #thrasher

57 notes · View notes

umbralstars · 3 years

Text

Basically an "All you need to know" about how I personally write Byleth/All of my Byleth headcanons. This is probably not everything but it's still long enough I have to put it under the cut.

* His birthday is 26 day of Blue Sea Star Moon 1159

- I know that 20 of Horsebow is probably the canon date but I've always used this one since my first playthrough and keep it cause I find it funny

* Byleth has all kinds of memory issues

* Demi-panromantic & demisexual

*Trans masc (He/Him & They/Them)

- He remembers and has dreams of things that are from when Sothis was alive

- He sometimes has trouble recalling facts about the world he lives in (such as who is currently ruling, his teaching plans or things that he has taught before, sometimes can't recall where he is). He keeps a journal of important things that he saw, learned, needs to know etc

+ Caused by being misaligned with Sothis' soul and her consciousness trying to overtake his own

+ He doesn't lose memories outright and can recall things if given the right direction. Once a memory is solidified as more long term it's much harder for him to forget it

- Sothis' memories can cause bad flashbacks that can take him minutes to get out of

+ Jeralt and the other mercenaries look out for him when episodes happen. They often have him talk about them afterwards if he wants too (ie like Jeralt and Byleth's conversation at the beginning of the game after the dream about Seiros/meeting with Sothis)

+ He can't speak during them and gets very spacey

- Fighting and strategy is instinctual for him so memory issues in those areas are non-existent

- When his soul fuses with Sothis' his memory problems mostly cease. All the memories about his own life are permanently solidified and he can somewhat tell the difference between his memories and Sothis'. He still can be paralyzed by her memories but has a much easier time getting out of dazes

* Has a love for learning about the history and culture of Fodlan and everywhere else

- When he was little Jeralt would often tell him stories and folktales about Fodlan while they were riding across the country side. The pre-month cutscenes during White Clouds are Byleth recalling those stories

- Loves learning about the places outside of Fodlan just as much as learning about Fodlan itself

- His favorite books are about history or folklore

* At a crossroad between trusting people implicitly and keeping others at arm's length

- His life as a mercenary certainly wasn't easy, even though he doesn't resent it, so he tends towards giving others the benefit of the doubt even when he may doubt their intentions. Cautiously trusting if you will. Some people may view him as naive because he's willing to trust off the bat and he's fine with that.

- Does fall in line with mercs not really trusting nobles but he points that more towards the parents currently in power and not the kids he knows

- Goddess help you if you break his trust. Once you break his trust it's very hard to actually get it back unless you give him cause for why it was broken in the first place

* Very protective of the people he cares about

- Death or injury of people he care for has always been his biggest fear. His family has always tried to tell him it's just a fact of life, their life especially, but he would rather fight tooth and nail to keep someone alive then to just let them die

* Really good with children actually

* Takes his job as a teacher very seriously. He knows how rough Fodlan and fighting can be, so wants to impart good lessons in the hopes of making his students' lives easier. He knows that some of them have already seen horrors or have been on battlefields, so he treats each person accordingly

* Has a really bad resting bitch face so people think he's really intense/scary when first meeting him

- He has complicated feelings towards being perceived as "intense" or "terrifying" since on one hand it's very useful when he needs to be perceived that way, but on the other hand he feels like that first impression makes it hard to connect with people afterward

- He doesn't ever go out of his way to make people perceive him differently mostly because it would be a hassle and he's thinks people who really know him would understand he's not like that

* Byleth is actually very introverted and somewhat has social anxiety

- He spent almost his entire life around the same people moving from place to place so introversion aside he's not the most experienced about talking to new people

- He never stops people when they want to talk and doesn't really hate talking to people it's just that he doesn't go out of his way to do it unless he likes talking to someone or it's important

* Jeralt's mercenary company is his family and the people he's closest to until Garreg Mach. The Mercenaries are an elite group of about 13 people of various backgrounds

- All of them are basically his aunts and uncles cause they practically raised him alongside Jeralt. He does call a lot of them Aunt and Uncle as well

- One or two are also like siblings to him cause they joined with their parent or when they were younger (like 15)

- They were the only people able to get close to Byleth or get him to talk for the first week or so after Jeralt's death

- I need to expand on them more cause they're very important to me and him

* Byleth has trouble outwardly expressing emotions and understanding his own. He actually feels very deeply but just has trouble really expressing it. Very monotone and straight to the point when he speaks and only slight shifts in tone tells how he's really feeling. Actually has hyper empathy

- Grew up like this despite Jeralt and the Mercenaries' best efforts. Jeralt was always best as reading him because he acted so much like Sitri

- Caused once again by a misalignment with Sothis' soul

- After his awakening, Byleth has a better ability to express himself, and even took on some of Sothis' characteristics, but he still has trouble explaining or talking about what he's feeling

* Generally very calming to be around for most people. Won't ever force anyone to talk but will talk if you start conversation

* Has done some very questionable work as a mercenary

- He has taken on a few assassinations in the past despite Jeralt's insistence he never get his hands dirty like that. The Remire Medicine Incident is one not spoken of much within the company

- He's dealt with brigands, putting down rebellions, guarding caravans, guarding nobles, helping train the standing armies, etc everything under the sun. Will practically do anything if the pay is right

- He does have standards and expects a full rundown of the job beforehand like his father and the rest of the company though

* Loves cats and dogs

* Actually pretty religious and devout by the time of his awakening

- He wasn't completely raised without knowledge of the Church as some of the mercenaries are religious, but he was agnostic for a good portion of his life

- As he lived at Garreg Mach and learned more about the Church's teachings he grew to appreciate it more and more

- Rhea taught him a lot during his many conversations with her

- As Archbishop he does his best to learn every aspect of the Church and exemplify them best he can. Really emphasizes giving aid to those in need, leans heavily into the "Goddess" aspect of his soul, reforms many aspects whilst keeping the core of the faith

- Personally speaks to Sothis on more of an equal and friend level then true God and devotee

- Does become known as the Holy Saint and Avatar of the Goddess within the Church years after he steps down as Archbishop. Doesn't really know how to feel about it but can't say his inclusion is wrong

* Byleth doesn't have the highest opinion of Edelgard

- As I write AM/VW Byleth he was never close to Edelgard at all during his time at Garreg Mach

- He really only sees her as the person who started the whole continental war (which he despises as he very much dislikes war in its entirety) and the person he believes to at least be complicit in his father's death (do not debate with me how much Edelgard knew Kronya's plan. This is entirely how Byleth views what happened)

- He never wished for her death, but does view her as someone very misguided and only wishes she never went as far as she did

* Very terrified of sleep after waking up post-Time Skip

- Fears falling asleep and loose more parts of his life an leaving everyone behind again

- Prefers to have someone close by who can wake him or being woken up in the morning

- Got into the unhealthy habit of just working himself into exhaustion and having a very irregular sleep schedule until his friends had an intervention to talk about what was going on

#fe3h #fire emblem #byleth eisner #m!byleth #fe3h headcanons #there's probably more things I forgot about #may add to this if I remember them #angst #cause some of these tend toward it

24 notes · View notes

colorisbyshe · 3 years

Note

Don’t publish if you don’t want, it’s fine and ilu and hate the clowns that show up in your askbox with anything other than Sasuke love, but ace rethoric, ideology, discourse, whatever you want to call it vibes P E R F E C T L Y with the cissexist, heterosexual, white supremacist patriarchy. it’s the reason why it only took aces a decade to form a semi-coherent movement. the system isn’t afraid. it embraces this shit for a reason. aces ain’t radical or tearing down the system. they uphold it.

I’m gonna close my ask box for a bit after this because... I’m gonna have to defend some shit rn and I’m not in the mood to waste my time like this.

There is something to be said about how a lot of ace rhetoric reaffirms harmful things like rape culture and even just reinvents conversion therapy tactics (and I have said it all, trust me). There is something to be said about how easily asexuality has been absorbed into mainstream culture as opposed to trans, gay, and bi identities, sure. I’ve spoken about that too.

But does it vibe perfectly with all those things you listed? No. If done correctly, asexuality and the ace community could work in tandem with feminism and the LGBT movement (as in allied with, not a part of) to dismantle rape culture. Because people, of any gender, DO face discrimination for not wanting sex. We just must also recognize the same culture also punishes people for wanting sex, too. It’s a catch 22 except for the smallest group of human beings, where your mileage may vary depending on how many privileged identities can stack up and shield you from the catch of it all.

Asexuality and rhetoric around it COULD be extremely helpful in enhancing discussions around sexual expectations and happiness without sex. About boundaries in relationships and how sexual mismatch can be a dealbreaker and that’s okay. IT could be a helpful tool on dating apps so people know “Don’t date me if you wanna smash.” We could have LGBT ace/aro spaces for people who are LGBT but maybe want spaces to talk and organized based on their specific needs, whatever they may be.

Asexuality and aromantism don’t inherently mesh with white supremacist patriarchy or heteronormativity or whatever. They certainly CAN but they don’t inherently.

A lot of the work I would PREFER the ace/aro communities do is already being done in feminist circles and LGBT spaces, I’ll admit to that. But if aces and aros got their fucking shit together, dropped even just half of the appalling shit they say, and joined up... it’d be nice and helpful.

I “got into” ace discourse years ago (and have been trying to escape ever since) not just out of protectiveness for LGBT identities, which a lot of ace rhetoric does harm and attack, but also out of a frustration with a community poised to do SO MUCH fucking good and instead focuses on doing less, every single time.

I want there to be dialogues abotu life without sex and romance and what happiness looks there. I want talks about marriage benefits and assets for people without romantic partners. Or more talk about how to help elderly single people who don’t have kids or partners as windfall for when they can’t take care of themselves. I want talks about how hard it can be to survive on single incomes or discrimination against single mothers or people who want to adopt on their own without a partner.

I want all that so fucking badly and instead I got 5+ years of “My cock is flaccid and I’m queer for it.”

So I won’t take a smear campaign of “Actually, society loves aces/aros” because that’s not true. In some contexts, it might be a bit true. Society would love for some marginalized people to have no sexual desire or romantic impulses. And I’ve spoken on that.

But in a lot of cases... it’s a lot more complicated than that and there are a lot of no win scenarios for people where to have or to not have sex/romance are punished in different ways but punished all the same.

Or maybe society as a whole doesn’t care and doesn’t punish it but also doesn’t consider perpetually single people in terms of designing social services.

There’s conversations I want to have and want the ace/aro communities to be have and they’re being sidelined for ace discourse, inventing a new term for “experiences sexual attraction but is ace for it,” or crying about how if perry the platypus is or isn’t good asexual representation.

Let’s talk on that instead of saying “heteronormativity loves women who never want to have sex or date.” Because... no.

#ace discourse #q slur cw

38 notes · View notes

keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 16

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 2.6k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

I had been feeling a bit weird for a week now. Ever since Henry and I got back from our little getaway, I felt pretty nauseous, but I have that from time to time, so I didn’t think anything of it. Things started to get a whole lot worse, when I went back to work. I nearly vomited all over multiple dogs, because of the smell of their disgusting anal glands. Normally they don’t bother me that much. The smell isn’t my favorite of course (and I wouldn’t make a perfume out of it), but nearly vomiting because of it, that has never happened before.

I became more and more tired and my breasts start to hurt a lot more, but yet again, I didn’t suspect anything. It was until I was laying down on the couch, while Vanessa was doing groceries with Henry. Kal plopped next to me on the couch and placed his head protectively on my stomach.

And that’s when I was starting to suspect something.

I could be pregnant.

And basically this was all my fault. While I had been constantly pressing about how we are not ready to add another baby to our family yet, I hadn’t been consisted with my birth control and never once urged Henry to wear a condom.

In these four days I have been acting like a total zombie (and knew damn well why, though I claimed otherwise), I kept beating myself up about it and the longer I kept quiet about it, the more I hated myself.

I mean, Wesley ran away, so why would this time be any different? Henry could always decide that this isn’t what he wanted. Men are pigs, they have proven me that, but I was absolutely blindsided by Henry and his love, that I might have missed some signs.

After I dropped the “I think I might be pregnant”-bomb on Henry, he hasn’t said anything. He keeps on staring at me and I have no clue what he is thinking. Is he anger? Is he sad? Is he disappointed?

‘You think you are pregnant,’ he finally manages to say. ‘How are you not sure?’

Okay, he hasn’t lost his ability to communicate, that is a good sign right? ‘I haven’t taken the test yet.’

He nods and simply stares at me. Why is that making me uncomfortable? He needs to say something!

‘I have been pretty tired,’ I whisper, ‘and nauseous and my breasts hurt. Then Kal placed his head on my stomach, in a way he never did.’ I let out a shaky sigh and add: ‘And also, I have been pretty inconsistent with my birth control and we have been having a lot of… You know, we engaged in tons of unsafe bedroom activities.’

He is still not saying anything.

‘Henry, please, just say something to me.’ Tears burn in my eyes, while my doubts turn into realities. He doesn’t want me, nor Vanessa, nor this possible baby. ‘You know, I should go, I’m really sorry.’

‘Why are you apologizing?’ he asks, stopping me in my tracks with his words.

Now I don’t know what to say. ‘Why shouldn’t I be apologizing?’

‘This is what we wanted, right?’

Is he serious?

Come to think of it, of course he is serious. I mean, I feel like that man was totally ready to get me pregnant the second I agreed to having a kid with him in the future.

I really shouldn’t have underestimated him.

‘Sweetheart,’ he whispers, ‘you shouldn’t feel guilty about not being consisted with your birth control. Besides it takes two people to get pregnant and we don’t even know for sure yet, do we now?’

I shake my head, because he is right. It does take two people to get pregnant.

‘You haven’t taken a test yet and since you haven’t been taking your birth control steadily, isn’t it possible that you can get your period any minute now?’

‘Henry, it’s been six to seven weeks since I last had my period.’

He blinks. ‘Oh.’

‘I’m so scared,’ I whisper in a hoarse tone, with a voice crack in the process. ‘I’m really scared.’

‘Why is that, sweetheart?’ He takes a step closer to me, his hands holding onto mine.

‘Because so much is going to change,’ I say. ‘And what if you leave?’

He shakes his head. ‘I get that you are scared,’ he says, ‘because so much is going to change, that is true. But you have to remember: I’m right here. I’m right here with you and I’m not leaving you. Sweetheart, I’m no Wesley, please remember that. I’m am currently no Wesley, nor will I ever lower myself to be him. I’m here for you to stay. Every step of this journey.’ He pulls me closer to him, before he wraps his strong arms around my waist. ‘The second you and I get home,’ he tells me, ‘I’m going to buy a test for you.’

My heart swells with nothing but love. How on earth could I have underestimated this man? This beautiful human, who has shown me nothing but love and compassion. I feel so stupid now for thinking that low of him. ‘I know this might be hard for you,’ I tell him, ‘but could you please not say anything to anyone?’

‘I’m going to try,’ he chuckles, his cheeks a little bit more pinkish than before, maybe from happiness or hold in tears. ‘It might be a challenge, but I’m going to try.’ Henry presses kisses in my neck and whispers: ‘I’m so happy, sweetheart. I can’t believe that this is truly happening. Not only will I be a dad to Vanessa, but to a possible other kid too.’

This is such a different reaction. I still have nightmares about the disgusted look on Wesley’s face when I told him I was pregnant for real. I only think I’m pregnant now and Henry is ready to set up the entire nursery. ‘I love you so much, Henry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I truly am.’

‘Oh sweetheart,’ he whispers, leaning back a bit, so he can look at me. ‘You don’t need to feel sorry, ever. I understand you were scared, especially with what that idiot Wesley did.’ He gives me a long kiss on my lips. ‘But remember, sweetheart, I love you more.’

≫≫≪≪

It feels good to have told Henry. I was pretty stupid for thinking that he would leave me for this. I mean, we are talking about Henry. Henry Cavill. During the rest of our visit at his parents house, he kept beaming with pride and everyone was wondering what the hell was going on inside his head. When we were a bit secluded from his family, he kept kissing me, touching me and I never felt more loved.

He kept his promise. The second we got home, he went out for some groceries, giving me time to cuddle up with Vanessa. We are on the couch as I spoon my little girl as we watch some television. When Vanessa was younger, I made these idiotic and unrealistic measurements: no television, no sweets. Now I turn on the television myself, because I want to know what Winnie the Pooh is about to do now.

But I do realize, that as soon as we add another baby into the mix, it’s all going to be different and what is happening here, will not happen again.

I think Vanessa would be a great big sister. I know she would. She keeps on telling me that she’ll be such a wonderful big sister and I believe her right away. Though I don’t like Bettie’s mom, Bettie herself is a pretty sweet kid and Vanessa is such a sweetheart to all of Bettie’s little siblings.

But I also know that taking care of another child is going to mean a little less attention for Vanessa. She has been my one and only for so long and she got so much attention from Henry since he came into our lives: how will she handle this?

What if she thinks that Henry and I are going to love the other baby more than we love her? I press pause on the remote control and nudge Vanessa. ‘Sweetheart, can you do something for mommy?’

‘Of course,’ she says.

‘Can you give me a hug?’

Vanessa’s eyes light up and she turns around, so she can cuddle up against me. ‘I always want to give you hugs, mommy.’ She has been really desperate for my attention today and I feel so bad for making her feel a little less important. Normally, I notice everything she does, but seeing her like this because I missed something important, that breaks my heart.

‘You know I love you right?’

‘I know,’ she says. ‘Daddy told me you were feeling a bit sick, so I know you can be a bit tired and grumpy. But that’s okay, I still love you too.’

Sometimes I wonder how I managed to raise a young girl that is so well spoken. In school she always scores at the top of communication skills. Now her work is sometimes lacking and she is easily bored and because she has such strong communication skills, she has to stand on the hallway a lot because of her foul mouth, but other than that, I’m so proud of her.

Parents are always impressed with the way she introduces herself, before she plays with their kids. I was often afraid that she wouldn’t be accepted by her friends, her peers, because she was a lot better in communicating, but the other kids didn’t mind. They actually start to look up to her.

She is such a strong little person and I’m so proud of her.

‘Yeah, but remember: no matter how grumpy, tired, annoyed of sad I am, I will always love you.’

‘I know,’ Vanessa says. She has a tendency to push her hand under my shirt and place it on my back and right now, it’s no different. ‘I can’t wait until daddy officially adopts me.’

‘I can’t wait either.’ I press a kiss on her forehead and sighs deeply, yet content. The door opens and Kal barks in excitement. Normally Vanessa would’ve jumped up to rush to Henry, but now she stays put.

Henry walks into the living room and smiles brightly when he sees us. ‘There are my two favorite girls,’ he says, placing the bag on the table. He pulls out some chocolate. I know what he wants to do, but we both decided that we would wait until Vanessa was in bed. Time does go by faster when there is chocolate involved and he knows it. ‘Is there room for one more?’ he asks.

‘Always,’ Vanessa says with a smile. ‘Dad, you go where I was laying, so I can cuddle on your chest.’

Henry chuckles and positions himself right next to me. Vanessa curls up on his broad upper body. ‘Who wants some chocolate?’ he asks.

Vanessa opens her mouth and when I see him feeding her a piece of chocolate, I think to myself how much he loves being a dad. The role of being a father suits him so much.

I know he is going to be there for me, for Vanessa and all the babies we’ll eventually have. I’m so lucky to have this, this family. I never knew I wanted to have a family with a husband, a dog and kids. I thought that I’d be with Vanessa, until she was old enough to go to college and I’d still be a vet, a little older than forty and have an empty nest.

But now I’m going to have it all. I’m going to have a man who I probably will marry one day. I’m going to have kids. A house. A dog.

‘Have you been sweet to your mom?’ he asks Vanessa.

‘I’m always sweet to my mom.’

‘I know you are,’ he chuckles. ‘What is the plan for tonight?’

I place my head on his shoulder and my hand on Vanessa’s back. ‘This little girl has to go to bed early, because she has school tomorrow.’

Vanessa pouts, but realizes that won’t work. ‘Okay,’ she mumbles, before she yawns. ‘But I’m not tired yet.’

Henry chuckles. ‘Well, I have an idea. How about you try to stay in your own bed for as long as you can tonight?’

‘But daddy, what if I get scared?’

He shakes his head. ‘I don’t think that will happen, because Kal can sleep in your room tonight and the nights after that.’

Normally we wouldn’t allow Kal to sleep in her bed, but I think this is a smart move from Henry. When we bring a new baby in the mix, we need to make sure that Vanessa is loved and cared for properly, because a new baby is going to take lots of our time. And this is something that she wanted for so long already.

‘Really?’ she asks. ‘Mommy, you think this is a good idea?’

‘I do,’ I say with a smile.

Vanessa jumps off Henry and rushes to Kal. ‘You can sleep in my bed tonight. I’m going to get ready!’ She sprints upstairs and Kal follows her, barking loud.

‘You, my love,’ I whisper to him, ‘are a very smart man.’

Within record time Vanessa and Kal are ready for a good sleep. We give them both a big kiss and leave on her night light. I smile as I stare at my sweet daughter, who is maybe becoming a big sister very soon.

Henry and I go back downstairs. ‘You ready to take the tests?

‘Tests?’ I repeat. I search through the grocery bag, only to discover that Henry bought eight tests. ‘Sweetheart, one was enough.’

He blushes. ‘I just want to make sure.’

I lean in, giving him a kiss, before I walk to the restroom. I somehow managed to pee on all three of them and I know we have to wait at least two minutes.

It’s weird seeing Henry this nervous. He paces around the living room and I tilt my head as I watch him take a few steps, turn around, take another few steps before turning again and repeating it. ‘How much longer?’

‘One more minute,’ I answer. ‘Sweetheart, come here.’ I sit on the table and pull him in a hug. ‘No matter what the outcome is, we’ll get through it.’

‘But if it’s negative,’ he whispers, ‘what are we going to do then?’

I can’t stop my smile. ‘That means we have to try a whole lot harder to get pregnant,’ I say.

His eyes light up and he chuckles nervously, as if he can’t believe what I just said. ‘Are you serious?’

‘I figure that we shouldn’t wait too long. I know I want you to be the father of my kids. I know you want a bigger family.’ I pull him in for a long kiss and whisper: ‘And I don’t want to wait any longer.’

‘Shit, Olivia,’ he whispers. ‘I love you so much, baby.’

‘I love you too.’

‘Time’s up?’

I look at the clock and nod. ‘Yes, time’s up. Ready?’

‘More than ready.’

We both look at all three of the tests and they are all positive. Holy shit, we are going to have a baby, I think to myself. Henry’s eyes are filled with tears, causing me to cry as well. ‘Oh my God,’ I whisper.

‘We’re going to have a baby,’ he says. ‘We are going to become, truly, the Cavill-Tran clan.’

‘Tran-Cavill clan, but okay.’

He rolls his eyes, before he pulls me in for the most intense kiss he has ever given me. ‘You bet your ass I’m going to take such good care of all of you,’ he whispers against my lips. ‘And I’m going to make sure you won’t ever ever regret having kids with me.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x Olivia Tran

173 notes · View notes

askmyboys · 2 years

Text

Jeremy (Puppet Maker OC)

| Name: Jeremy (he’s scribbled out a last name)

| Nicknames: Jere or Remy

| Gender: Trans FTM

| Age: N/A

| Height: 6’3”

| Species/Race: Human

| Occupation: Makes puppets, that’s,, p much it- he just really loves making puppets

| Hair Color: Tiger Orange (Messy Curly Undercut, it usually hangs a bit in his face too)

| Eye Color: Baby Blue

| Skin Color/Body Type: He’s really fuckin pale (he doesn’t go outside a whole lot) and he’s also chubby as well!

| Appearance: His main outfit is a dark seafoam green turtleneck with a dark brown trench coat (not leather) and he wears beige colored pants (got lots of paint stains on all of his clothes as well so oop) and finally he has dark blue dress shoes (that also have paint on them) honestly? He tried to wear an apron but it legit did NOTHING for him so he gave up with that, he did use the apron for one of his puppets though! He cut it up and sewed some stuff together and then created some patterns on it (nothing ever goes to waste for him if he sees potential)

He wears orange gauges that match his hair color but that’s it for jewelry- He also doesn’t have a circle beard- go figure! He does have little fangs (no claws, bad for puppet making and besides the claw nails would just get stained) hell his skin has usually got paint stains even! This lad is MESSY as hell! Puppet making is a messy job!! He’s also got a few minor scars, he’s had his fair share of accidents for sure, some puppets have sharp bits ya know and it can hurt… The final thing I can think of is he also wears circle glasses (it helps him see better)

| Personality: Jeremy oh this sweet man… He’s very sweet, kind, and absolutely caring but he has the WORST social anxiety, he’s so bad at dealing with people which is why he RARELY ever goes out (the ONLY time you’d see him out is when he’s going to get more supplies) i'm not kidding when I say he is literally the WORST at dealing with humans, he’s somewhat okay with animals so long as they aren’t in his workshop- after all most animals will go after his puppets and he’s got a LOT of dangerous shit for animals in there- like mm p a int and clay for example- He DOESN’T want anything ingesting that…

He’d rather just stay in his workshop, with his puppet friends… That’s all he wants, it’s easier than having to try and figure out how to interact with other people… He’s very gentle and soft tbh, pretty soft spoken, he does have somewhat of a stutter and has trouble with words sometimes but listen man he’s trying his best… There’s not much else to say, just a friendly loving n caring man who just loves to make Puppets ya know? ...There IS a reason he’s scribbled his last name out and wants nothing to do with it (family issues i’ll spoil it right then n there)

| Side Facts: He lives in a bit of a weird thing… It’s like a tower of sorts in all honesty a b i g ass tower actually- and literally all the way up it there’s ROWS and ENDLESS rows of puppets sitting on shelves ALL the way to the top of the tower where there’s a fuckin HUUUUGE ass attic area, puppets are also ALL around up there, sitting on shelves or just in so many places you can NEVER escape the puppets gazes… They are literally everywhere, you can NEVER escape them ...u-unless you, ya know, leave the tower ...BUT WAIT HEY, WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HERE?!? T-THIS IS HIS HOME, HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN HERE?!? (dumbass probs forgot to lock his fuckin door, lmao idiot-)

Jeremy,, now he KNOWS technically speaking these puppets are not alive at all, but also he talks to the puppets, it’s about all he can do since people scare him so damn much, he’ll talk to all the puppets he can really manage really! He’ll even say goodnight to them when he doesn’t… Pass out from exhaustion, that is, he works on puppets a LOT and sometimes he forgets that uh sleep, or eating or drinking is VERY important… While Jeremy is USUALLY working on puppets as I said you’ll only ever see him out in public when he needs supplies BUT Jeremy isn’t dumb or anything,, like even with the windows he leaves open he’ll sometimes get out of his tower and head down to the river nearby or just go to the forest and wander around in order to get some fresh air.

Honestly, like Jeremy is v sweet and lovely but he genuinely needs some kinda therapy for his issues,, he has LOTS of SEVERE social anxiety and he seems terrified if someone even starts to approach him… Also btw his tower is p much on a hillside-like area, with a forest and a river of course nearby like I said- also,, another thing- Jeremy even when out and about probs would never talk about his puppet making hobby or tell anyone about them because most people, likewise, thinks puppets are creepy, or weird, or gross- (yeah his uh family always made fun of him, even went as far as to break some of his puppets he made when he was younger, his family always complained why can't he be a normal kid? and honestly? Just hated him in general tbh, they were fuckin bastards true and through)

Which is why Jeremy has NO contact with family whatsoever and literally never wants to see them again in his entire life,, not that they’d ever find him or his tower- its legit a ONE and a MILLION chance given how far away he moved from their city.

Remy definitely wishes the puppets were real and alive sometimes, it’d be nice bc he wouldn’t…

He wouldn’t feel as afraid talking to a puppet! In fact, he legit has no problem talking with puppets- he’s not terrified of them in the slightest, but uh, he sadly knows it’s literally impossible for puppets to be,, real, to be walking and talking without ya know, someone pulling the strings or levers... (lmao with that attitude it's impossible) oh well he’s still gonna talk to them and treat them as though they were live beings ...Aka treat them with kindness and care (maybe he should practice tryna interact with humans through puppets tbh)

Jeremy has definitely given a home to many puppets as well (like a gosh damn rescue) he’s picked puppets up from many places- it’s uh, been ones that have been tossed aside, broken and damaged lil babs, even though he doesn’t usually like germs that much he has found puppets in the dumpster a lot more than he wishes he did, it hurts his heart to see such cool puppets, trashed n broken like that… Sooo he just couldn’t resist, he had to take them with him and patch them up ...And clean them up too of course, also himself because eugh- germs,, bad and icky...

#original character #oc #my oc #puppet maker oc

3 notes · View notes

deans-haunted-baby · 3 years

Text

The Ones Left Behind

Alrighty time for some truth bombs. I’ve had almost a week to absorb the end of Supernatural and season 15 as a whole. And I think this is the moment where I need to throw in my two cents. For all intents and purposes I won’t go in-depth into 15x20 seeing as that conversation will just open up a whole other can of worms and I don’t need that headache. I have my reasons for being less than indifferent with how the Winchesters’ story concluded. So I won’t go there.

Instead I’ll be focusing all my energies on the unsatisfying conclusions of 4 particular characters. Two of which were main cast members (one that was on the show 12 years and one 4 years) while the other two (played by the same dude) were brought back after a decade long hiatus for a much-anticipated comeback only to be wasted and mangled unfairly by Dabb and his hack horde of a writing staff. Call this a follow up to my last post. If I sound bitter I am because these people don’t have a single clue on how to helm these characters, their relationships or their storylines 😠 Nor do they deserve them.

And yes I’m well aware of Kevin Tran, Rowena, Ketch and several others who got the shaft on this show. Those could be future posts for another time.

But I cannot stress this enough; ADAM MILLIGAN, JACK KLINE, MICHAEL AND CASTIEL ALL DESERVED FUCKING BETTER. There is no arguing these facts, none whatsoever. Not one of these characters deserved that exit to be the final chapter in their story. I won’t do an entire analysis of each character’s arc and role in the show as I’ve already done that in my rant about 15x19. But I will highlight how much season 15 royally screwed over these characters and tossed them aside like trash; as if none of them were ever part of/contributed anything to Sam and Dean’s history/world building of Supernatural’s universe.

*WARNING* This is going to get heated.

Before I dive into the heart of these issues I want to state this is not a “shipping post”. I don’t ship anyone on Supernatural, hopefully this blog has been pretty self-explanatory. So I have no arguments/opinions in those areas. I’ve been a fan of this series for 15 years because of the characters, the familial bonds and relationships formed between characters throughout its run. And I’m well-aware that the Winchesters are the lead protagonists of the show, no need to remind me. These are purely my own thoughts based what I’ve obtained from show canon. Let me just say I can’t get over just how much these writers contradicted and ignored what they put forth in the journeys of these four individuals. its a real headscratcher.

You mean to tell me that after TWELVE DAMN YEARS of Castiel being a rebellious warrior angel, searching for his own identity and meaning in life; making that promise to Kelly Kline about raising Jack as his own/risking his life for him. After sacrificing himself for his son a year ago, acknowledging he was satisfied with his role as a father which restored his faith; that it was all because of/for Dean Winchester?

You mean to tell me that after Michael, THE PRINCE OF HEAVEN and PROTECTOR OF HUMANITY, was locked away in a cage with a human whom he emotionally bonded with for thousands of years (10 years our time); who was abandoned, betrayed and manipulated by his neglectful/abusive father. After choosing free will and aligning himself with TFW for humanity’s sake, just sided with the Earth’s destruction because his little brother called him names?

You mean to tell me that Jack, A THREE YEAR OLD CHILD, who’s barely just beginning his life and spent his entire duration on the show wanting to be normal and not wanting to be special. Connecting and being integrated with humans; a child who’s biggest fear was outliving everyone he ever loved. Is suddenly ready to walk away from his family, his home and his teddy bear; to give up being a kid forever and run the universe?

You mean to tell me that Adam, SUPERNATURAL’S MOST INNOCENT CHARACTER and FORGOTTEN THIRD-WINCHESTER BROTHER, after being eaten by ghouls; pulled away from his mother out of Heaven, manipulated by angels, trapped in Hell for thousands of years because Sam and Dean left him there to rot. After coming back and helping his neglectful siblings save the world only to be ripped away from his best friend and THE ONLY OTHER PERSON who gave a damn about him; is sentenced to a life of loneliness, homelessness and turmoil until he dies and ends up in Hell where he’ll mostly be tortured and turned into a demon?

NO. I DO NOT AND WILL NEVER ACCEPT THIS BULLSHIT!

Season 15 not only manages to contradict itself where these characters are concerned (while assassinating them before the final curtain). But the writers deliberately discarded them before giving us that *sarcasm inserted* epic solo-Winchester conclusion. Regardless of how you feel about Adam, Castiel, Jack or Michael, ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS are connected Sam and Dean’s story and part of Supernatural. And when you throw them away like they mean nothing, you’re essentially throwing away a part of the show’s history. You’re ignoring 15 years worth of story building.

As I said I’m not going to go into 15x20 for reasons, it doesn’t offend me as much as what was done before that finale. Because I think those other show exits really affect 15x20 even worse than people realize. You want to know why, I’ll explain.

Lets start off with Castiel and Jack, OH BOY! We know where they end up; running Heaven and the Earth together which is all fine and dandy. I love my Dadstiel father/son duo being an endgame family unit. But here in lies the problem, we never saw it. Not even a cameo. And technically their onscreen storyline ends at 15x18 and 15x19 which is an ugly, anti-climatic bookend to an incredibly deep relationship that had 4 years of development. First you have Castiel who completely forgets why he made that deal with the Empty to begin with. HIS FUCKING SON. Not to mention it wasn’t about true happiness it was about giving himself permission to be happy; there is a difference. And then you have Jack wandering around next episode, vacuuming up power cause suddenly he’s a machine now, acting like he doesn’t give a shit over losing his dad to an entity HE’S BEEN DREADING ABOUT FOR A FUCKING YEAR.

Towards the end of season 15 I noticed neither of these characters were acting like themselves. Their motivations, their personalities and strong ties to one another had mysteriously dissolved. Castiel became less concerned about the danger his son was facing after 15x15 (what the hell was that in 15x17?) and more about speaking when spoken to by either Sam or Dean. Does he know how Dean truly feels about Jack; proclaiming the child is “not family”? I doubt the in-character version of him would let Jack leave with Dean after that insult. Castiel’s not even worried whether or not his son is alive or safe before he makes the big confession later. And for some reason Jack (who’d become heavily suicidal) was more concerned with clinging to the Winchesters, willing to die for them, instead focusing on himself and the one person who’s shown him nothing but unconditional love and given him strength since birth. Both of these characters are canonically depressed and suffer from low self-esteem that was never resolved which makes me furious.

When Chuck killed Jack at the end of season 14, this devastated Castiel in the first half of season 15. He actually got to grieve that loss throughout the episodes and deal with his anger over it, allowing the audience to anticipate the day they’d be reunited one last time. This part of Castiel’s S15 arc also ironically mirrors Jack’s S13 arc of mourning Castiel’s death until resurrecting him. And when this son finally returned to his father, who got to rescue him, it was such a poignant moment between the two. It was a cathartic payoff after witnessing Castiel in so much pain over Jack. There was so much building up between that Dadstiel reunion in 15x11 and the Empty’s pact in 14x08; this was suppose to be a tragic yet pivotal plot-point in both Jack and Castiel’s stories. And with SPN wrapping up we all expected something BIG. Yet somehow the writers retconned the whole thing by making it all about Dean, which is such a gross disservice to these characters and 4 years of storytelling.

For instance, since 15x18 was Castiel’s exit episode, why wasn’t he allowed to hug his son or Sam goodbye one last time? Why didn’t he have more of a focal role instead of standing around majority of the episode with barely any dialogue as so much precious air time was wasted on frivolous things? Why didn’t he get one last badass fight scene with someone like Death instead of being choked out and tossed around like a powerless mortal? Why did the group need to be split up to begin with when it served no purpose either than that *ugh* moment? Why wasn’t Jack allowed to call Castiel “dad” once before the show ended? He deserved to hear his son address him as dad!

AND WHY THE HELL COULDN’T JACK FEEL CASTIEL’S DEATH THE MOMENT IT HAPPENED?

The show already established to the audience the significant cosmic bond these two characters shared since before Jack was even born. It was so powerful it boosted Castiel’s grace. Jack could remember who Castiel was from the womb and that he’d protected his mother. Not to mention HE FUCKING RESURRECTED CASTIEL OUT OF THE EMPTY ONCE WITHOUT GOD’S POWER. You’re telling me Jack couldn’t feel his dad being taken away forever despite how far apart they were? No, he’d feel it in his heart. Had we’d been given a scene like that at the end of 15x18 (something of substance) with actual grief shown in 15x19 maybe the episode would’ve faired better for them.

That said it wasn’t, because Jack was treated the exact same way in his final exit. Hardly any lines and just a bunch of scenes of him standing/walking around until that pathetic reveal at the lake. HE DOESN’T EVEN GET TO INTERACT WITH JAKE ABEL’S MICHAEL/ADAM which would’ve been a great follow-up to the AU!Michael storyline in seasons 13 and 14. I swear these directors didn’t give Alex and Misha any motivation during their last three episodes and it’s evident in their hollow performances. But why would they when the scripts are basically telling their characters to quickly fuck off so the brothers can have their final outing. Jack doesn’t even behave like himself after he becomes the new God. His personality is apathetic, cold, alien, stiff and way too mature for the 3 year old child so closely connected to his family/the human world. In that moment I saw Alex Calvert not Jack Kline. It’s bad enough he doesn’t get a meaningful farewell but again Castiel, HIS DAD, is a complete afterthought to this kid 🥶

And that’s what we’re left with. Forever. A frigid, hollow ending to one of Supernatural’s most healthy, touching, family dynamics. It makes you wonder what was even the point. I can’t even fully enjoy the fact that its canon Jack and Castiel are together fixing Heaven because of what the show presented onscreen as their last hurrah. It’s not sitting right and it makes 15x20 even less appealing to me.

Moving onto Michael and Adam. Get ready for this. I could rant forever about how dirty my boys were done by this show. How they were discarded in the SPN series finale recap etc. just as they were FOR THE LAST TEN FUCKING YEARS. Was there even a plan going on here or was this just everyone making things up as it went? Their ending is the most unsatisfying and cruel thing because its INCOMPLETE. There is no real closure or resolution with them thanks to the monstrosity that was 15x19. AND NO ONE CARES ENOUGH ABOUT THEM TO GIVE A SHIT.

Much as I’ve enjoyed this show for many years, it NEVER deserved Jake Abel, his talent or his time. I keep seeing so many anti posts about Dean Winchester’s final fate in Supernatural and all I can think about is “try being an Adam Milligan fan for the last decade”. I’ve had to watch this boy go through hell with nothing to show for it either than years of memes. ridicule and the show’s mockery in forgetting him. Actually he’s the ONLY CHARACTER in this series you’re encouraged not to remember 😡 Also quick question: why give us this really interesting and healthy relationship between an archangel and its vessel if nothing was ever going to become of it?

At this point I don’t know why Adam or the idea of him was even introduced way back in season 4 let alone revisited in season 5. Because the only thing I see when I look at this character now is SAD WASTED POTENTIAL. Storylines never explored. Relationships that never got off the ground. Backstory we never got to see (like for instance his past with John Winchester and his time in the cage). A character’s birthright (Men of Letters) that was never actualized. AND the unexplained factor that Adam could look directly at Michael’s true form without his eyes burning out (making him a special case). And the thing is he could’ve been a really great character, both him and Michael. They could’ve easily reached popular status just like Castiel given the chance since Jake is a freaking acting-powerhouse. We were given a taste in 15x08 just how awesome these characters could be and how they could’ve contributed so much to the story and its core group. But unfortunately it wasn’t meant to be.

Michael will never redeem himself after years of scrutiny and being made out to be some kind of unhinged monster. This show constantly enjoyed pounding into our brains how fearsome Michael was. Warned us via Lucifer (LUCIFER, PEOPLE!) that he wasn’t rational, compassionate and didn’t care about anything except war, death and destruction. And that he was incapable of feelings and emotions. This is how Supernatural saw Heaven’s Prince and guardian of the Earth. Christ, they actually did a two-year storyline about an evil Michael from the AU world who enjoyed torturing and killing while trying to destroy the universe. I want to know WHAT THE HELL THIS SHOW’S WRITERS HAD AGINST THESE CHARACTERS? Why they felt the need to bring back Jake Abel, AFTER A DECADE OF FANS WANTING THIS, if it was simply to piss all over his characters one last time before the show wrapped. This is absolutely unprofessional and childish; the fact that Jake is taking this bullshit in stride makes it all the more shameful 😡

We could’ve learned so much more about Michael’s past and his present relationship with Adam. These characters didn’t need to sit in the cage for a decade they could’ve easily been incorporated back into the show as far as season 8 or 10! And been an asset to the Darkness storyline in season 11.There were characters and storylines introduced that served no purpose. Why did we need to keep seeing characters like Charlie Bradbury or (as much as I like him) Crowley or Garth (love him too) or Lucifer or Abaddon or the Wayward sisters? I would’ve much preferred having Adam and Michael around and got to know them instead; especially after 15x08. I would’ve wanted to see what their dynamic with TFW could’ve become had they been long-time allies. Did John ever tell Mary about Adam’s existence? I’d like to see what her reaction would’ve been like had the Winchesters remembered him during that damn 300th episode. I guess that’s another loose end untied.

But because of what Supernatural did to these two characters, it forever taints Sam and Dean. I don’t think Dabb or purist fans realize this. But when new viewers come into this show about two brothers preaching important things like “saving people”, “family first” or “family don’t end in blood” they’re going to see how badly the main protagonists treated their innocent half brother. How Castiel and Jack were treated. They’re going to see the heroes of the story abandoning this kid in Hell forever with no intention of EVER rescuing him. And that’s why their final appearance leaves such a bad taste going into 15x20. Cause as much as Dabb and co didn’t give a shit about Adam and Michael they also didn’t give a rat’s ass about protecting Sam and Dean’s integrity. That’ll be a stain they can’t undo.

So through all of it, we’re stuck with the abomination that is 15x19 aka the eye-soar to an unfinished/unpolished story of two horribly disregarded characters. Michael gets the pleasure of being character assassinated right before he’s stupidly killed off instead of going out a hero or becoming the next God (as it was his birthright and the setup was there in the narrative). And Adam gets killed off-screen, OUT OF HIS OWN DAMN BODY, then brought back by Jack only to live a miserable, isolated existence since his brothers have nothing to do with him (the dog and car are more important); his best friend is dead, he has no job or money or a fucking home and he’s legally dead! Really what is there left for him besides the brutal fate awaiting in Hell when he dies?

SERIOUSLY THEY COULDN’T GIVE US ONE SCENE WHERE THE WINCHESTERS CHECKED IN ON ADAM TO MAKE SURE HE WAS SAFE?! 🤬 His last scene pretty much sums up this shit for what it is. Tragic. I feel like crying for this poor sweet boy.

Congratulations Dabb, BL and co for giving us these much deserved broken story arcs of characters you destroyed and made OOC before leaving the airways. You did your show’s protagonists justice by doing this *sarcasm inserted* after 15 years of being onscreen. I doubt these idiotic decisions are going to age well in the long run. They certainly don’t look good on the Winchesters. Anyway that’s my hot take for the day.

ALL THESE ACTORS AND THEIR CHARACTERS DESERVED BETTER.

69 notes · View notes

passionate-reply · 3 years

Video

youtube

“Why did Kraftwerk stop making albums?” they all ask, as though Karl Bartos isn’t right here, consistently kicking ass and making great music. If you’re hungry for more Kraftwerk goodness, specifically with an early 90s techno flair, you probably won’t do better than Esperanto, so come check it out! (Also featuring special guest star Andy McCluskey from OMD.) Full transcript below!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be talking about an album not too many people have heard, but that I think more people really should--especially fans of Kraftwerk. It’s Esperanto, the 1993 debut of Kraftwerk alumnus Karl Bartos’s project, Elektric Music. The production of the final classic-lineup Kraftwerk LP, 1986’s Electric Cafe, had been dominated by frustrating delays, rewrites, and remixes, and when all was said and done, the resulting album was a relative flop. By the time of the 1991 remix album The Mix, which seemed to end Kraftwerk’s career with a whimper, Bartos had grown alienated from founding members Ralf Huetter and Florian Schneider-Esleben, and fed up with their apparent lack of work ethic. He set out on his own, partnering with Lothar Manteuffel of the Neue Deutsche Welle act Rheingold, to form Elektric Music.

What I think really stands out about Esperanto first is its sense of freewheeling, unrestrained immediacy. For nearly a decade leading up to this album, Bartos had been working at the whim of others, waiting around, and feeling like he was spinning his wheels. Esperanto feels like a tightly coiled spring that’s finally being released. It’s dense, busy, in-your-face music that positively demands to be paid attention to.

Music: “Lifestyle”

Vibrating at the core of Esperanto is an undeniable Kraftwerk-esque sonic template: textural synth side-swipes, chattering vocoder-driven vocals, and hypnotic, mechanical rhythms. It’s natural to expect that rhythmic quality from Bartos, since he was chiefly brought on to provide percussion parts for Kraftwerk, but it’s also important to remember that he’s as interested in pop music as he is in classical. Both Bartos’s solo work, as well as the Kraftwerk tracks he had a hand in, emphasize melody, in a poppy, easy to love manner. The melodies here have some precedent in Bartos’s earlier work, but they’ve never been quite as punchy and vibrant before.

“Lifestyle” also makes early use of vocal chops, which contribute to that tight and busy feel, while also being a marked attempt at pushing this core sound into the musical future. Some of these specific samples are actually repeated across multiple tracks, if you listen closely--a sort of callback to the repeated melodic motives of the early Kraftwerk albums. “Information,” a high-concept eight-minute epic that the rest of the tracklisting pivots around, is even closer to being structured like “Trans-Europe Express”:

Music: “Information”

Bartos has never really ceased struggling under the weight of his Kraftwerk past, torn between indulging in these ideas and themes that come so naturally to him, and feeling obligated to set himself apart--as well as obligated to push the envelope and break new musical ground. Esperanto radiates and burns with that sense of conflict, which feels fresher and more raw, given the timeframe involved. This tension between working with and working against the Kraftwerk legacy is not only musical, but also thematic. Like the Kraftwerk albums, Esperanto is deeply concerned with the role technology plays in our lives...but it’s a lot less optimistic. Take, for instance, the opening track, “TV”:

Music: “TV”

“TV” is Esperanto at its most gloomy or melancholy, portraying the detached haze of modern lotus-eaters transfixed by the glowing screen. It’s an image that’s readily familiar and relatable to us today, of course, and it’s also one that runs contrary to the techno-utopianism of Kraftwerk, where home technologies offer hope of bringing people together rather than splitting them apart, and disconnecting them from the real world. If that wasn’t enough to convince you to read “TV” as an anti-Kraftwerk screed, the lyrics even point to “computer graphics” and “electric bands” as fodder for that destructively distracting entertainment. Ouch! Along somewhat similar lines is the track “Kissing the Machine”:

Music: “Kissing the Machine”

“Kissing the Machine” is also a sort of rebuttal of Kraftwerk tracks like “Computer Love,” demonstrating the pitiful perversion it really is to expect human, emotional fulfillment from a cold and sterile mechanical contraption. Whereas “TV” is more overtly downbeat, “Kissing the Machine” takes the route of dramatic irony, going for an eerily cheerful, naive sort of sound, painting its narrator as utterly oblivious to what they’re missing out on. You probably noticed that the vocalist on this track is actually not Bartos--it’s Andy McCluskey, best known as the frontman of Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Like Manteuffel, McCluskey is a younger synth-pop artist whose career began in the 1980s, making music that owed quite a lot to what Kraftwerk had achieved before. Bringing on some slightly younger talent is not only a nod towards keeping up with the times, but also another jab at the legacy of Kraftwerk, who refused to collaborate with any other musicians, and at times even seemed loath to acknowledge how the art of electronic music had evolved in their wake. As the title of Esperanto implies, the theme of language is also prominent here, and that serves as yet another way in which the Kraftwerk philosophy is turned on its head, most notably in the title track:

Music: “Esperanto”

While many people assert that it’s more “authentic” to listen to Kraftwerk in German, they made consistent attempts to incorporate a wide variety of languages into their work. Besides the English-language versions of their LPs, Kraftwerk also sang in French, Italian, Spanish, Russian, and even Japanese, to varying degrees. They were selling a vision of “Europe Endless” that was multicultural and multilingual, and seemed to have wanted people from all over the world to connect with them and feel included and represented in their future, rather than view them as some distant and peculiarly Teutonic phenomenon.

“Esperanto” flies in the face of the dream of linguistic unity. Esperanto itself is an artificial, constructed language, created by L. L. Zamenhof in the late 19th Century. Combining features from the most commonly spoken languages across the globe, and streamlining away things like irregular verbs, Esperanto was built from the ground up to become a true “universal language” for all of mankind, that was easy to learn and use. But despite the hopes of Zamenhof, whose name for his new tongue translates to English as “one who hopes,” it obviously never caught on. The most beautiful utopian vision in the world is still just a vision, and you can end up failing even if “you’ve got the perfect pitch.”

Kraftwerk’s longtime graphic designer Emil Schult, whose contributions to Kraftwerk’s signature aesthetic are nearly as important to their legacy as any of their music, returned to create the cover art of Esperanto. With its bright and simple red tone and strong use of diagonals, Esperanto’s cover art is clearly evocative of the iconic cover of Kraftwerk’s 1978 LP The Man-Machine, arguably the finest hour for the band as well as Schult. However, its abstract, non-figurative qualities set it apart from the work Schult and Bartos had done before, as Kraftwerk hadn’t made an album that didn’t feature their own faces front and center since 1975’s Radioactivity. The image of a rising sun is fitting for the idea of Bartos’s empowered return to music after a period of dormancy.

The world is full of people bemoaning the fact that Kraftwerk gave up on making new music, and the apparent irony of this band who appeared to be visiting from the future being absent from the world they helped create, in which “electronic music” has ceased to be a novelty and become a default. Karl Bartos may not be the most prolific artist in the world, but I’ve always seen him as the rightful heir to the Kraftwerk legacy, and I think his string of solo albums since leaving the band are the most worthy follow-ups that could ever have been paired with Kraftwerk’s classic run. Esperanto does everything you could possibly want a 1990s Kraftwerk album to do, staying true to that musical heritage while also pushing forward, and staking a place in the broader artistic conversation. I think everyone who identifies as a fan of Kraftwerk owes it to themself to give Esperanto a spin.

My favourite track on Esperanto is the closer, “Overdrive.” Unlike the readily apparent cynicism purveyed by tracks like “TV” and “Kissing the Machine,” “Overdrive” reads as a more complex perspective about technology and everyday life. It’s a portrayal of that all-too-modern scourge of overstimulation, that’s still ultimately a very exciting one, that sweeps you up in its triumphant “kiss of life.” Listening to its chaotic instrumental outro, I can’t help but feel that it leads directly into Bartos’s follow-up to Esperanto, 2003’s Communication--an album that would tackle the Internet age, and its inescapable virtual hustle and bustle, head-on. That’s all for today--thanks for watching!

Music: “Overdrive”

#music #great albums #album review #album reviews #karl bartos #kraftwerk #andy mccluskey #omd #orchestral manoeuvres in the dark #elektric music #techno #synth pop #synth-pop #synthpop

20 notes · View notes