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#and this was back when i still wore pronoun/pride pins in general
thenamessparkplug · 3 months
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shoutout to my old 4th grade teacher for being more supportive of me one time 6 months ago than my own mother's ever been< 3333
#it was like such a tiny interaction but i also never forgot#it was during some kind of family party thing for kids parents (and siblings) to come and eat pizza and some other stuff i dont remember#and anyways my brother(who currently goes to this school) wanted to go so my whole family went#and while i was there my mom saw my old 4th grade teacher and was like “omg you should go talk to her”#and i was like yeah i should she was a really cool lady actually#so i nervously was like “hi” and didnt think shed recognize me at all#but she IMMEDIETLY was like “ITS YOU! /pos”#she then points to my shirt and asks me “hey are those your pronouns now?”#and this was back when i still wore pronoun/pride pins in general#and i was like “yeah actually!” because no adult had ever asked me about it before and i was so happy to like be recognized as a person#and she gave me a hug and told me she was proud of me and how much id grown and i /maybe/ got a little close to tears but ignore that#and my mom just stood there the whole time#she didnt say anything#she didnt smile#and this was not my first time wearing my pronoun pin my TRANS FLAG pin even#never once did she acknowledge it#also like a month later she made fun of me for it and i havent worn one since#uh yeah anyways#sorry for ranting lmao#or ig venting?? this was not my intention mb mb#trans#transgender#lgbt#lgtbq#lgbtqia#(to be clear my mom has made it very clear she will never support me on numerous occasions it wasnt like a one time thing lmao)#tw vent??#tw vent
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sariels-world-ella · 1 year
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I don't know if any one cares or relates to this or needs to hear this or not, but, don't you just get a bit irritated when someone from the older generation says, "don't do/say *insert thing here* because the other kids would make fun of you!" I get they are trying to look out for us but..
1. I don't care what the other kids think, if they have a problem with it, they can f*ck off, my identity is not determined by someone else's opinion.
and..
2. A lot of things changed since they were kids, times change.
Like, a boy kissed his boyfriend in the hallway and everyone around them reacted no different than if it was a straight couple, a goth girl wore a pastel gothic lesbian pride flag outfit completed with make up, there is a cishet boy wears dresses and skirts everyday, there is some boys wear make up, there exists openly trans students and people both respect their pronouns and chosen names, there is minority clubs where minority group students (+minority group supporters) interact, there is a gay-straight alliance club, there is literal pride flags around the school, gender neutral bathrooms.
I've seen people wearing shirts saying how they support autistic people, I also seen shirts supporting people epilepsy, down-syndrome, mental health issues, depression, and I have also seen people supporting "my body, my rules", "Black lives matter", (ps. I put them in qoutes because these are phrases, and not for disrespectful reasons), also students advocating to help lower homelessness and poverty in our state, as well as awareness about child abuse and human trafficking.
I've seen plenty of students who are openly gay/lesbian, trans, queer, bi, pan, aro, ace, neurodivergent, religious/non-religious, you name it, walking around the school like any other student, no one gives them crap, they wear and express their pride flags, religious symbols, racial identity pride, autism swag, and/or pronoun pins all they want.
(If you don't believe me, I can provide photographic proof, however, there may not be many pictures of people themselves out of respect for privacy and if there is, all their faces would be blurred unless they consent to having their face on the internet)
Things change, I bet if a lot of these things happened back when the older population were kids, those people would be harrassed and bullied. Yeah, sure, these type of people still exist, but a good amount of the younger population is trying to move us forward.
Though it's not everywhere, acceptance does exist, just because some people don't accept you for who you are doesn't mean there is no one who will. If someone doesn't love you for who you are, then they don't deserve you. Your identity is your own, people can try to invalidate it all they want but only person who can TRULY invalidate your identity is yourself.
Don't people get to you, and be yourself. If someone is making you so you aren't comfortable in your own skin, then tell them to screw off and for them to worry about their own identity.
Tl;DR
Times change don't let the people stuck in how past was like, stop you from having a better future. No matter who you are or where you come from, (as long as your not the scum of the earth, ex: a p*dophile), you matter! your identity is yours, only you have the power to disvalidate it, don't give that power to others. Keep on going, I believe in you! ♥️
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I wish you would write a trans male! Reader where they’re planning to go pride together and Buck surprises reader with a bunch of trans pride things to wear! Example t shirt shorts necklaces etc
Evan Buckley x Trans-Male!Reader -- request
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♡ Title: Next To You
♡ Word Count: 1,053 words. 
♡ Relationship: Evan Buckley x Trans-Male!Reader 
♡ Rating: General Audiences 
♡ Warning: Not Applicable 
♡ Summary: Buck surprises you on a morning, shortly after you'd told him you are transgender, with a box full of pride items as his way of reminding you that you've both been planning to go to L.A. Pride together.
♡ Beta: Not Beta Read 
♡ Notes: A request for the lovely @evanbuckos! Thank you so much for requesting, we hope you enjoy!
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You woke up early that morning to an empty bed and Buck's pyjamas folded neatly (Neat is subjective! As Buck would say) on his pillow beside your head. You stretched your arms above your head and yawned, scratching the top of your head as you pulled yourself into a seating position.
You scanned the room and smiled to yourself as you heard pans clanging in the kitchen and you smelled eggs cooking, coffee brewing, and could hear the sizzle of what could be bacon or sausage in a pan. You bit your lip as you got out of yours and Buck's bed in your shared bedroom, changed out of your pyjamas into your Adidas joggers, a binder, and a grey t-shirt from Buck's side of the closet. It wasn't uncommon for you two to share t-shirts and sweaters, even though Buck's size always fit baggy on your smaller frame, and your size always fit tightly over Buck's toned chest and broader shoulders.
You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, running your fingers through your cropped hair which sat messy on your head at the moment. You smiled at your reflection; you were still pre-testosterone, but the changes to your appearance (i.e. cutting your hair, wearing clothes from the men's section, the small tone definition to your arms from lifting weights and working out more, etc.) that you had made since coming out to your friends, family, and your boyfriend made you happy. You were being your true self, after so many years of denying and hiding.
You took a breath and made your way out into the kitchen. You smiled at the view of Buck's back facing you as he cooked.
"Is that Evan Buckley, up before noon on his day off-shift, cooking us breakfast?" You teased, biting your lip softly as he turned to face you. Buck grinned.
"Good morning, Y/N." He said, sounding as if the sight of you took his breath away.
You approached him and pressed a kiss to his lips with your hands finding their perch on his hips. Buck smiled into the kiss and pulled away to flip the sausages. "I actually have something to show you," Buck said, picking up the spatula to move the scrambled eggs around in the pan. "I ordered some things and they came in this morning; I got the email notification last night that they'd arrive in the mail by 7:30, that's why I got up so early. They're in the box by the front door, go check 'em out."
You lifted a brow at him but his focus was still on the food. "Buck, you know you don't have to buy me gifts, we just got this place, you should save your m-"
"Shush," Buck said, placing a finger over your lips with his free hand and locking eyes with you. You pouted. "Just go look in the box."
"Alright, okay." You said and shook your head, smiling fondly at the blonde man. He grinned.
You hurried over to the box sitting by the front door, seeing that the tape was already split which meant Buck had already opened it. You pushed apart the flaps on the top of the box and a little gasp fell from your lips when you saw the contents on the inside.
You could hear Buck putting breakfast on plates in the kitchen, silently thankful that he couldn't see the tears welling up in your eyes at that moment. You stuck your hands in the box and pulled out a folded, packaged trans pride flag. You set it on the floor by the box and pulled out two rainbow-beaded necklaces that had a red heart on them with the two words "His" and "His" written on them; you guessed it was like those cheesy "His and His" t-shirts, one for you and one for Buck.
You sniffled and pulled out pronoun pins next; he/him written on both pins, again you guessed one for you and one for Buck.
You smiled upon remembering how Buck began putting his pronouns in his bio's on social media after you came out and told him it'd really help you to feel supported.
You wiped your nose and eyes on your forearm before pulling out the last items; two t-shirts with hearts on the front in the patterns of the bisexual and trans pride flags. A little sob escaped your lips when you realized which t-shirts were for who, and you realized what all this was for.
Buck was taking you to Pride, and he was going to wear the bi-heart t-shirt next to you as you wore your trans heart t-shirt (as well all the rest of the items in the box).
You turned around when you heard footsteps and stood on your feet to meet Buck on his level. He looked shy.
He clasped one hand in the other and gave you one of his famous Buckley-dazzler smiles. "Um, I- I just remember how we said we'd actually go to Pride this year, your first Pride after coming out. I know how difficult it was for you to make that giant step and tell everyone," Buck said as he stepped towards you, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you, Y/N. And I want to go to my first Pride ever with my handsome boyfriend next to me and be an out-and-proud bisexual man next to him."
There was no way you could stop the tears then. And you didn't feel shy or embarrassed about it. It was something you and Buck had been working on as a couple; reminding one another that crying, showing emotions, and being vulnerable does not take away from your masculinity, having feelings does not make either of you "less than a man", despite what society still insists on trying to tell everyone.
"Buck, I... Thank you. I love you, so much, Evan." You said, leaning forward and tilting your head up to press a kiss to his lips.
Buck pulled you close, nuzzling into your temple after pulling away from the kiss and breathed your scent in for a moment before he smiled. "I love you, too, Y/N. I love you, so much. Let's go eat now, before it gets cold."
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bouqetofpoppies · 5 years
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The Angel Beelzebub was different looking to other angels, but still beautiful in their own right. Unlike the others, who chose to present as male or female and took on the more obvious attributes of those genders, they didn't really know what they were. And they thought that was okay. They didn't have a broad chest and shoulders and the sexual organ like a man, but they certainly didn't have breasts and the sexual organ of a female. In fact, in their opinion, they didn't really have anything.
Unlike most demons, who preferred blonde hair that was yards long, they had short and choppy black hair that hung about their face. They wore the customary white clothing, but it wasn't nearly as office or business like as people would thing. In fact, right now, they were wearing white shorts and a pale grey top. As for shoes, they didn't wear those odd looking pants shoes that other demons wore. They actually found a pair of socks that they thought were cute, white fishnets that reached about ankle length, and white shoes that made their feet look tiny.
Not only was their appearance different, their beliefs were to. They were currently in what the humans called the "Twenty-First Century", and they had noticed a lot of change, not just in this century, but over history. The thing that caught their eye the most was a new movement, the "LGBTQ+ Movement".
They honestly had no clue what LGBTQ+ stood for. Could it be a new race? No, that wasn't right. People all over the world were fighting for racial equality already. Was it a new gender? That seemed to fit somewhere... they just couldn't figure out how. And so, they descended to earth to figure it out.
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After infiltrating a "pride parade" as the humans called it, Beelzebub looked around. Their were stalls selling food in obscene shapes, but makes and females didn't seem to care. Their were stalls of shirts and pins and skirts and pants and every article of clothing imaginable. And the flags... there were so many. The most prominent was a beautiful rainbow flag that seemed to be everywhere they looked.
They loved the rainbow flag instantly, because it was so pretty and for some reason it brought a lot of smiles to lots of males and females and even people with... what's that word... androgynous styles.
The rainbow flag wasn't the only one. Their was a pink, blue, and purple flag. Their was a flag that was white, black, and purple. There was a pink, blue, and white flag. But what caught their eye, almost seemed to draw them in, was a yellow, white, black, and purple flag.
Beelzebub hated those colors. Yellow never looked good on them, they were to much white, and purple and black were demonic colors anyway. But this flag... they didn't know what it was but it made them feel slightly confident. Pride was a sin... but they were starting to enjoy this Pride Parade.
They shyly walked up the a stall with the flag hanging over it.
"Excuse me?" They said to the person behind the stall. They turned around. It was female, but was dressed so comfortably you couldn't tell. And for whatever reason, they understood it wasn't female. This person was a person, a living and happy person, but they weren't female or male.
"How can I help you?" The stall owner asked with a smile.
"This may sound so stupid but... I'm new to this Pride Parade thing. Could you please help me?" They mumbled. The stall owner smiled and nodded and let them behind the stall with them.
"Okay. The rainbow flag is generally what most people use to represent LGBTQ+, but it actually represents gays. The colors all mean something amazing in their own right. The pink, purple, and blue flag is for bisexuality. It means you can like both genders. The pink, blue, and yellow flag is pansexual, meaning you like cooking pans. That was a joke, they just like everything. The pink, blue, and white flag is transgender, meaning you go from one gender to another because you were put in the wrong body." The stall owner went on explaining the various flags. Beelzebub thought it was amazing that an entire community could have so many variations and varieties of the same word: "Pride."
"What does the flag on your stall mean?" They eventually asked.
"Non-binary. It means you aren't male or female, and your preferred pronouns are they and them." The stall owner smiled. It hit Beelzebub like a ton of bricks: This was their flag.
"I... I'm non-binary." They smiled happily. They felt a weight being lifted, they knew who they were. They weren't male or female, they were just Beelzebub. And in their opinion, it didn't matter who you liked or what you identify as, just as long as you get the exact same feeling of serenity and happiness they did when they found out and said it out loud.
The stall owner smiled, and soon Beelzebub had a new outfit. They kept the white shirt, but swapped out for black shorts and purple shoes with yellow suspenders. They had pins and buttons up and down the suspenders and had a tiny non-binary flag in one hand, and a pansexual flag in the other, as they felt that they could love anybody no matter the gender or sexuality.
The stall owner, named Logan, brushed their hair out and gave them some makeup, saying the "gold makeup" on their face already held enough yellow. They applied purple and silver eyeshadow and black eyeliner and mascara, and, upon Beelzebub's insistence, painted a tiny pink, yellow, and blue heart on their cheek. By the time Beelzebub left the stall, they had two new friends (Logan and their girlfriend, a transgendered male of color named Alisha) and looked ready to party. And so that's what they did.
They danced along to all the music that was playing, watched the parade, danced with a couple guys in skirts, danced with two wives and their daughter, and had the time of their life. Until they saw it.
A thick silver cross. A man in Black. Signs. People shouting. Shouting God's name, saying these people were bad. But they weren't- they weren't bad. Why would people say they were bad?
Beelzebub hurried back to Logan and asked.
"They say we're going to Hell, we're going to be punished for who we are." Logan murmured. Alisha was crying softly.
"No you aren't. You are beautiful people. You are amazing people and you don't know how amazing you are. You made me so happy today because you helped me figure out who I am. I have to thank you." The three hugged and exchanged phone numbers, and Beelzebub had to go back to heaven. But this time, they knew who they were.
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Beelzebub went to countless Pride events from then on. They snuck out of Heaven and would come back late, usually blissed it happy and excited. They now told all the angels to use their proper pronouns and didn't respond when called otherwise. They hung up their flags and put their stuff away in their room and kept it under lock and key at all times. But one time, the one time where it had to go wrong, it went wrong.
They had been at a coming out party for Alisha's little brother, who recently came out as transgendered and admitted he- she, sorry, had a boyfriend. They had been playing party games and having fun when Beelzebub was pulled away from the party and was standing in front of all the angels and demons dressed in their pride wear.
"What are you wearing?" Uriel chastised. Well... they were already in Hell. And if people as amazing as Logan and Alisha and Jennifer, Alisha's new little sister, were going to Hell... they'd be here waiting for them.
"My pride stuff." They said with confidence in their voice.
"Pride is a sin!" Michale gasped.
"Pride, such as the humans celebrate it. I'm non-binary and pansexual. I'm neither male nor female and I like everybody no matter what. It's who I am. And if you don't like it, go ahead and damn me to hell." They glared. Their eyes caught on a demon they knew all to well and their heart skipped a beat.
The demon Gabriel was exactly why they identified as pansexual. He was tall and broad chested and so ducking hot it hurt. And his smile... it made them smile. And he was smiling right now, right at them.
"Why would we Damn you to Hell?" Uriel questioned, looking affronted.
"B-Because the humans said-"
"Humans. Are. Not. Us. It doesn't matter what they say. If you are gay and a good person you will go to Heaven. If you are transgendered and a good person, come on in. It isn't who they are that stops three from going into Heaven, it's what they do. Now come and sit, the meeting has begun." God smiled at them. And they sat happily, right next to Gabriel.
After maybe five hours, the meeting ended. The angels stood in a line according to rank and leg the demons go through. Gabriel stopped by Beelzebub and didn't bother to bend down. He didn't care if the others heard.
"Would you like to go to a pride event with me. As a date." He said, smirking softly. Their eyes lit up and they smiled.
"Of course." They blushed. Gabriel chuckled softly, kissed their cheek, and walked out.
Beelzebub totally didn't do a happy little bunny hop. No matter what Uriel and Michel Tell you.
No matter who you are, what you identify as, you are an amazing person. You are worthy in the eyes of god and the eyes of the author. Don't be afraid of who you are, and celebrate who you are. Beelzebub learned this, and eventually so did Gabriel. You are ineffably loved. No matter who you are.
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bristlybranwen · 4 years
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BIO
CHARACTER DETAILS:
NAME: Branwen Yaxley
AGE: 30
GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis female. She/Her. Hard rock gold star lesbian with a(n unpopped) cherry on top.
Her sexuality was always something she was very straight-forward about. She was probably introduced to the term ‚homosexual‘ as a slur at first, and immediately decided to defend it, not even knowing what it actually meant. By the time she found out, she had spoken up about it too loudly to retrieve her opinion quietly. And because it seemed so magnificently radical to call herself a Lesbian and be attacked by homophobes first hand (which gave her a reason to do what she does best: fighting) that it became an identity she wore on her sleeves from a young age on.
I like to imagine that the pureblood side of the Wizarding World was – even in the 60s and 70s – less open about such topics than the Muggle World. The pureblood mentality is all about passing on ‘pure‘ genes, isn‘t it? Which could mean that they see homosexuality as something standing in the way of such goals. Nevertheless, I don‘t think Branwen would‘ve been quiet about her identity. For one, because it told the sweet, quiet and closeted pureblood girls that they were very welcome to approach her in the shadows of certain corridors at Hogwarts, and for two, because most pureblood families raised their daughters to be perfect future wives. And this train had long left the station for Branwen. Her parents – who still think this is just a phase and will pass eventually – always knew Branwen would choose a husband fit for her rough and brawny attitude herself. So as long as they think this will still happen, they mostly refuse to talk about it with her. After all, the Yaxley name will live on whether Branwen has children or not: through honourable, righteous Corban. The one everyone is so goddamn proud of…
So, yes, Branwen has made her experiences, with emotions as well as short-lasting relationships, but only ever with other pureblood girls. After all, even if an accidental child won‘t be a situation, the mingling of bloods is just ‘wrong and disgusting’.
(note: I just want you to know that personally I dislike the term ‘gold star lesbian’ as it‘s usually used to invalidate gay people‘s identity based on their past relationships, and the same goes for ‘popping a cherry‘, for obvious reasons. But when I thought about how Branwen herself would answer this question, this was the exact phrase that came to my mind. The nuances of terms don’t matter to her at all as she doesn’t care at all about offending people.)
BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood
HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor
ANY CHANGES: I‘d love to change the FC to Sonequa Martin-Green. While Mackenzie looks very cool and has strong brawl vibes, I think Sonequa fits those vibes very well too.
She’s unashamed of who she is but, because of siding with the Order, does have to restrain certain parts of herself. I’d like to express this with some hair symbolism: whenever she’s being herself, unrestricted from either side, she wears her hair natural and open. Willing to fight anyone who might want to say something negative about her appearance. But then, for example when she joins the Order in a battle (or in smaller situations in which she has to act in a way that is unlike her), she prepares by braiding her hair. For this symbolism, I think black hair works best. It holds the most meaning, considering our society‘s prejudices against it, and that‘s why I‘d prefer Sonequa over Mackenzie!
Also, giving her a non-white FC is a nice way to visualise her name, which means ‘beautiful raven‘.
CHARACTER BACKGROUND:
PERSONALITY:
There are three things one needs to know about Branwen:
She knows exactly who she is. She acts before she thinks. She is unapologetic and relentless in what she wants and does.
I looked up the etymology of the name ‘Branwen‘ but accidentally typed ‚Bram‘, which apparently is the old English word for ‘broom‘. Even though the name Branwen has a different origin, I had a good giggle and it gave me a good idea to explain her personality. On the one hand, Branwen is extremely skilled on the broom, most likely having played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team during her years at Hogwarts (as a Beater, naturally). On the other hand there is this a German adjective, borstig, which means to be like the bristles of a broom/brush. More than any other, I believe that this adjective describes Branwen perfectly.
She is like the rough bristles of a broom, sweeping over whatever surface she deems messy, tearing everything away from their peaceful state on the floor, allowing no failures on her side. Crash your hand directly into the bristles and you might even draw blood from the wounds, but run your fingers over them carefully, putting up no counter-pressure, the bristles will tickle you at most. Perhaps even feel like a gentle caress.
When crashing your hand into the bristles:
It’s important to understand, that she doesn‘t prick for the sake of pricking. Nor is fighting for moral reasons. She‘s not a Nora Lynch type of a personality, despite their similar willingness to quarrel.
There‘s a saying which goes, your bubble of freedom ends where the bubble of freedom of another person starts. Branwen‘s bubble is larger than most people‘s. To be comfortable she needs to be able to swing her arms and be able to express herself loudly. She takes up a lot of space, not minding to take up other people‘s space but minding very much when other people take up hers. Whether it be opinions, physical space or emotions, she knows exactly who she is, anyone opposing her beliefs is – in her opinion – someone who tries to minimise her bubble of freedom. So when she pricks, it‘s not because quarreling with people is a way to alleviate boredom, but because she deems it necessary to gain her freedom back.
When gently touching the bristles:
In return this means that Branwen is – as long as one lets her be who she wishes to be – quite the enjoyable character. Because she‘s the opposite of whatever ‘social anxiety‘ is, she‘s easy to be around. There‘s no awkward silence, no struggle to understand what she wants, no hesitation when it comes to making plans. She leads the conversation, and because there‘s no topic too private for her, she can and will lead those conversations easily to blush-worthy places.
She‘s always up for drinks and jokes, adores hearty jokes, never says no to adventures, and while she doesn‘t really care about ‘deep‘ topics or philosophising around, she does care about the problems of those she considers friends. The aforementioned caress, is a genuine one. It’s not particularly deep, has no healing effects, but it can soothe a momentary itch. She will lend you an ear and give you concrete advice, usually even offer to deal with the problem in question herself.
This being said, there is one scenario where she restricts herself and turns a little stiff, and that is when she speaks to Muggleborns or half-breeds.
Around all Order members she wears a mask of civility, which holds in her prejudices much like braids keep her hair tied back, making sure her fight for personal freedom never turns political. But around Muggleborns and half-breeds she’s too aware of how different she is from them.
Perhaps it’s something akin to disgust, but perhaps it’s also the fear that if she gets started on fighting for her freedom around them, she might go too far and unmask herself completely. She‘ll warily stalk around small-talk and listen more than she speaks, which is unusual for her. No leading of conversations, instead she allows herself to be led – but put a pin in this, we‘ll come back to it later. For now it‘s important to know that Branwen is not at all the same person around people she likes, and people she is convinced don‘t deserve her respect. People who thinks might one day take away her freedom on a political basis.
All in all, Branwen has the kind of personality that allows for fun threads. The war doesn‘t affect her the way it affects most Order members (again, put a pin in that) and so not all her conversations turn around its effects. There‘s no heaviness to her, no sorrowful pondering or air of hopelessness. After all, what has she got to lose? This being said, stir the conversation towards something she has an (utterable) opinion on, and you‘re in for a ride. (As long as you‘re not a Muggleborn, as previously mentioned.) She knows no shame, never thinks back about where fights went wrong, always runs head-first into what many people would consider ‘taboo topics‘. And even when fists and curses come and go flying, she will never think herself in the wrong. After all, she‘s not the one who started. It was her freedom bubble which was being stepped on! She only defended herself!
BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE FAMILY:
To understand Branwen, it‘s vital to understand her family, her paternal side, the famous Yaxleys, as well as her maternal side.
Part of the sacred 28, an – in Branwen‘s opinion – honourable circle of British purebloods, the Yaxleys are Scottish and have their seat in a grand castle in the highlands, not too far away from Hogwarts. Most of the sons who carried down the name were in Slytherin, however it is not uncommon for the daughters of this family to land in Gryffindor, showing that the Yaxley‘s priority has always been honour and pride.
Lachlan Yaxley, Branwen‘s father, is your typical Slytherin. He‘s two-tongued and cunning, ceaselessly putting the appearance of what he does over its actual content. What he wants, he‘ll fight for with all his might, but contrary to his wife, he fights for it in the shadows, silently, in a way that leaves no traces of the sharp, unforgiving violence he exerts.
Bethan Yaxley, born Burke, Branwen‘s mother, went to Gryffindor. Although from another generation and an even stricter familial background, she always showed signs of rebellion, of a will to fight. Raised to be the perfect bride one day, always taught to be lady-like, beautiful and adorable, her ways to get what she wanted were never concealed or performed in secret. Stand in between what she wants and herself, and your life might literally be in danger. She‘s no less violent than her husband, but while his violence shows itself in emotional abuse, always making sure he‘ll be able to call himself innocent afterwards, she‘s unapologetic about her ways.
In fact, while she had been engaged to marry into the Yaxleys from a young age on, she decided herself that she wanted the older, instead of the younger brother. Her ways to get him were never concealed or performed behind closed doors, on the contrary, the whole Wizarding World watched as she made her family even more noble, even more rich, by catching Lachlan and putting him into her pocket. Did Lachlan disagree with what she wanted (his money, his nobility), no one ever learnt about it, though. He must’ve not been too disapproving of Bethan’s determination though, or else he would‘ve had his own, quiet ways to stop her. After all, make no mistake, just because he seems more subdued compared to her, it doesn‘t mean he‘s less powerful in their relationship.
Growing up as the daughter of two people, who, on the one hand, encouraged Branwen‘s large freedom bubble, always teaching her to take what she wanted, never make excuses, and on the other hand, had their own very large freedom bubble, which was so easy to overstep, was anything but easy.
The abuse – as modern Muggle psychologists would call it but which Branwen‘s would never see as such – strengthened her. From a young age on she had to fight for every inch of freedom she wanted to claim for herself, be it something small like which books she enjoyed reading (”Really?“ her father would always ask in a skeptical, hostile way. “That‘s something you enjoy?“) or who she knew she truly was (the day she came out to her parents, her mother wiped a spell over her, leading to a permanent scar across her shoulder which she carries to this day).
Psychologists would also be able to detect the ways it weakened her. Her fear of actually letting people come close, scared they might judge, scared she might never get the freedom back, for example. Her inability to be soft and gentle. Or her constant need to be right, as though allowing another opinion to co-exist with hers, would negate who she is as a whole person. Or her actual physical flinching at the idea of befriending a Muggleborn.
But Branwen would never admit to that, perhaps hasn‘t even figured it out herself yet. She firmly believes it made her strong, and perhaps it did. The ability to unapologetically demand what she wants, what she believes she deserves, it is a type of strength. To get through battles and duels with a grin on her face, because what is there more familiar and home-feeling than fighting with others? To never step down from a childhood feud that started for a reason no one quite remembers, simply because she can. To never hurt when yet another girlfriend ditches her, after all, she wasn‘t raised to share but to be self-sufficient, raised to never need people‘s friendly words and gentle touches…
To her, her surname means power. It means protection and honour, and she carries her head high because of it. Being way more outspoken about it back when she was at Hogwarts, she has however stopped mentioning who she is all the time now. Perhaps because the Order wouldn‘t see this as something positive. Perhaps because slowly she has stopped seeing it as something quite as positive either. Before, she was quite indifferent about the prejudices the Sacred 28 fostered, not really caring about the ‘deadborn‘ and enslaved Squibs, and definitely not bothering to question what there was to hate about Muggleborns. Nowadays, she still doesn‘t really care about any of that, but she understands that her noble name comes with those opinions.
However, she’ll never renounce this name. She won‘t let her parents disinherit her, she won‘t let herself be burnt off the family tree, she won‘t do anything that‘ll risk her nobility. Even if that means that one day, she will have to let her bubble of freedom burst and submit herself to her mother’s control… But it’s worth it, right? To give up ‘Branwen’ to be a proper ‘Yaxley’? After all, this name means strength. And she is strong because of it. If she were to lose her name, her family, what would be left of her? And, who knows, even though she’s determined to win this war to stick it to her damn cousin, what if they lose? At least she’ll have a proud title to go back to.
OCCUPATION: Blacksmith and vendor at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop, the Knockturn Alley branch.
After some splendid suggestions from the group, I have come up with a little idea: Wizards can conjure material goods but only for a limited period of time. It is therefore only logical that they need to buy the objects they expect to last for a whole year or longer, such as cauldrons. And therefore it is just as logical that those objects need to be manually crafted.
If some cauldrons are more expensive than others then it’s because they are more sustainable, and this is achieved by the kind of metals used, but also by the magic woven into them as they are crafted over a real flame (considering that elemental magic is the oldest and purest form, therefore also the strongest form of magic).
Branwen is clearly not in need for a job. Even if her parents disapprove of her choices, they still believe she‘ll come back around to marrying and giving the Yaxley genes to a child one day. (The name and heritage will follow Corban’s bloodline, anyway). They support her with a huge monthly allowance that make working obsolete. So why is she doing it anyway?
Well, the truth is, she started to work at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop because the branch in Knockturn Alley allowed her to overhear the telling chit chat between family members. Sellspeople are so easily overseen by the rich… It was one of the plans she had with which she talked her way into the Order. Told them that she had a great job where she could innocently inquire about this and that and learn about what was going on with the Dark Lord‘s supporters via their wives and babbling children. And because the shop is close to Borgin and Burkes, where a paternal great-uncle of her works, it not only put her parents at ease knowing he‘d look over Branwen, but also allowed her to be alone often, it was a winning argument.
What she tells her parents and everyone of the noble Pureblood Society, however, is: „I‘m doing this for fun.“ And it might‘ve been a lie once, but is it still?
Certainly, working as a friendly sellperson is mostly out of character for poor Branwen, who struggles with just letting the hostile comments of clients wash over her, but damn is she good at finding exactly the right cauldron the person is looking for. She‘s not someone who gives up or half-arses her job. If she is asked to help someone, find the exact right cauldron for a very specific potion, then she will not rest until that very cauldron has gone over the counter.
One day however she couldn’t find such a cauldron. So she went down into the cellar where the cauldrons are being made and it was the start unexpected: she began forging cauldrons herself. Manually. In the roaring fire, she‘ll stand for hours and hours, one hand holding the potion-soaked hammer, in the other the metal, as her mental strength turns into physical strength. She doesn‘t stop when the soot covers her face, doesn‘t stop when her clothes drench from the sweat, doesn‘t stop when her muscles begin shaking under the hard work. Seemingly inexhaustible she forges, refusing to think about how this work comes from a time when Muggles and Wizards still shared lives.
No one knows that she is more than a vendor, other than the other blacksmith, and she needs this to stay that way. She is proud of every single one of the cauldrons she makes, knowing they are perfect, but she is not proud of the manual labor. Yes, there is magic involved, but still. She is a Yaxley! And this is lower class labor at best… But there is something about holding the heavy hammer, about feeling the fire burn in her lungs that keep drawing her back down into the cellar, and she can‘t explain what it is. In a way she doesn‘t want to think about it, because what if she began to admire Muggles for their manual labor too? Began to envy them to live in a world without magic…
ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:
I think the bio does a beautiful job at explaining how Branwen feels around the Order.
On the one hand she just couldn‘t care less about the cause. She doesn’t care about morals or politics as long as the hierarchy of society stays in a way that she can keep her power, money and title. Most Death Eaters, she assumes are good, upright citizens, family and friends, who are just concerned about the Wizarding World. Not everyone who‘s on the Dark Lord‘s side immediately wants all Muggleborns dead, right? Most of them just want them apart so they can‘t mingle with the purity of their beautiful magical world, and isn‘t that very sensible? Surely most Muggleborns must agree, too!
On the other hand she has begun caring for the Order members. I love this part a lot so I don‘t want her to be too far into this caring yet but want to develop it as I play her. I don‘t want her to be too enamored with everyone just yet, but enough that she‘d consider some of them almost friends. When they talk to her about their private problems, she finds herself caring, and while she might hold back from seeking out their friendship, it‘s definitely begun forming, slowly, quietly, within her. No matter how much she pretends it hasn‘t, she can very much feel it. This feeling of fondness. Of admiration. Adoration, at times, even.
She values strength, doesn‘t she? She loves fighting and honours those who fight bravely as well. So this means two things:
One, her purpose in the Order is exactly that. She‘s not someone who will spy in other camps, or sit at home watching over a map like Edgar. She‘s someone who wants to be out on the field, her wand in her hand, curses on her tongue. And because she lacks moral values – the Death Eater values as much as the Order values – she has no trouble fighting with all her heart. She just wants to win, what for, it doesn‘t really matter. She just doesn‘t want to lose and so she fights without hesitation, and the other Order members will know that. That‘s perhaps why she‘s made it to Mid-Level at this point: because she has proven herself to be trustworthy on the battlefield. No hesitation, no laziness. When she fights, she fights. She‘s in it, with her heart, head and muscles.
Two, she has seen other Order members fight like that as well. When she initially joined she didn‘t know what she got herself into, perhaps even thought that they‘d need her to win this war. After all, they were just some silly rebels who just happened to oppose her cousin‘s side, she didn‘t really have faith in them. That‘s why she joined. To prove her cousin wrong. But then the months went by, years, eventually, and Branwen had to learn a harsh lesson: those people weren‘t joking around. They weren‘t wimps. They weren‘t pitiful. They were everything she had ever wanted to be, and at times even more.
Usually, when she argues with someone, duels them, she has no emotions or opinions about it afterwards. It‘s never really personal. During her time with the Order, she quarreled a lot (mostly with non-Muggleborns as explained above), however it never left her quite as cold as fighting did when she was young. She began rethinking what people told her in those arguments.
And instead of despising her for being so head-strong, she began admiring them for it. Especially because they didn‘t fight like her father did, with jabs and a smirk, solely to leave you emotionally wounded. They didn‘t do it like her mother did it, with physical violence, rather wanting to lame you than to allow you to take up space. No, what they did, how they defended themselves, is by simply … standing their ground. By reminding her of other people‘s freedom she endangers. By taking her by the hand and guiding her to show her that them (the people who they‘re trying to defend) being free, doesn‘t necessarily mean she won‘t have any left for herself. That true freedom means freedom for everyone.
She‘d rather cut out her tongue than speak about this to anyone, but it‘s there. This knowledge. She knows it has happened. She knows how she feels. And she fears how it‘ll make her decide one day…
SURVIVAL:
Being a pureblood with a well-known family, she doesn‘t struggle much in this war. As long as she gets her few hours at Potage‘s in, no one wonders what she‘s doing during the rest of the time. She officially lives with her aunt in a city house in Wizarding London, but she mostly comes by to take a shower and change her clothes. Most of the times she‘s out at night, enjoying life, not worrying too much about all this war-trouble, and convincing people to let her stay in their bed. Yes, bed. Do you think a Yaxley would settle for the couch?
In recent times, she‘s begun sleeping over at other Order members’ places more and more often. Perhaps because they don‘t ask questions like “so what are you going to do with your life now”? Perhaps because … no. Branwen refuses to see them all as friends. Some perhaps. Close acquaintances who she happens to trust with her life. But friends? Never.
And yet, when she speaks words of comfort, holding them shielded from dark incidents, promising to be there for them, she can‘t help but wonder how much of her freedom she‘s already given up for their love.
It conflicts her greatly. You wouldn‘t see it in the way she interacts with people, but it almost scares her, all this. The idea that they might lose this war. Because it would make her cousin all too happy, yes, but also because, well, what would happen to them? Trial? Azkaban? Death?
She condemns no one from her family to be on her opposing side and yet is quite glad they don‘t know on which side she‘s on. Perhaps because she knows that one day she‘ll see her parents‘ shoes under the Death Eater‘s robes and will have less than a second to figure out on whose side she‘s truly on.
RELATIONSHIPS:
It is safe to say that Branwen never really had friends.
At Hogwarts she was the kind of person to throw those (in)famous Gryffindor parties; aword from her and everyone would come. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. A party thrown by her meant a good time. And people usually liked being around her. This went on even after Hogwarts, in Wizarding London. And yes, she‘s the type of person to call people she met a few times ‘friends‘, to treat them like buddies, touching them and talking to them as though she knew them for years. But real friends? People she trusted with her emotions? With her pain? With her fears? Those were incredibly rare. Countable on one hand.
One of those people is Alice Longbottom, as she proved herself from a young age on the type of person Branwen respects. I‘d need to plot with the player, of course, but I like to imagine that they got into a terrible fight-at-first-sight, and Alice won in such a glorious way, that Branwen couldn‘t help but feel that through her bruised ego, she was mostly just proud of Alice for having such a big dick energy. And because they spent so much time together, eventually, the deeper conversations started to unfold, and she did grow attached.
But this doesn‘t negate what I previously said. She‘s not someone to get all touchy-feely with, and so many people would never place her high on their friendship list, even if Branwen does like them a lot. Like, she might feel close to someone, but they‘d never think about inviting her to their intimate wedding “for family and just a few closest friends”.
So the war didn‘t change much. That she can‘t talk to her purebloodist friends about what she does outside of partying and working at Potage‘s, or that she can‘t talk to the Order members about how little she actually cares about their cause, doesn‘t really affect her relationships. She was never someone to just talk about how she truly felt, anyway.
On the contrary. Because around Muggleborns she‘s forced to shut up and listen, she might‘ve grown to learn how to actually listen to other people for once. Before, when someone talked in a way that bored or upset her, she‘d just say so. Around those she can‘t do this, she is forced to listen to their side of things, to their opinions, their feelings, and as the years with the Order went by, she might‘ve begun actually caring for other people on more than just surface level. She got to know them, and because they are all brave in their own way, she began to like them.
No, she never really had friends.
But at times she wonders if she wouldn‘t like to be friends with those in the Order…
OOC EXPLORATION:
SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:
As literally everyone else, I‘ll obviously say Branwen x chemistry. However, I do think that romantic/sexual relationships with men will be out of the question. Deep, important friendships as explained in the point above? Heck yes! But no romance.
Also, I do like the idea that Branwen might fall for a Muggleborn girl. Not just for the beautiful star-crossed lover trope but also just to explore her bias and morals. I think such a romance could work well for character-development.
WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?
Muggles are inherently dirty. Werewolves (as well as other half-breeds) shouldn‘t even be just kicked out of society, they should be killed. Or at least be castrated. It‘s a shame to even consider them human, and allow them to perform magic. Muggle music is stressful and too loud and chaotic, there‘s no grace to it. The same goes for all their other art. Halfbloods can stay but their magic is weaker. The magic of Muggleborns is weaker as well, in fact, so weak, that Hogwarts shouldn‘t even seek out British Muggleborns but just let them stay in the Muggle world. Squibs should consider themselves lucky that they‘re made servants instead of being completely kicked out of society, as it would be the Wizarding World‘s right to do. It’s for people with magic, after all. A marriage between a Muggle and a Wizard/Witch should be forbidden. Salazar Slytherin was right when he said Hogwarts should stay clean of mudblood, as Muggles are known to be inherently hateful. They have proven themselves incapable of accepting magic and it‘s therefore for their best to keep them unknowing of the Wizarding World. After all, what if the Wizarding World ended up being revealed to the Muggles? Would they come hunting Witches again? Or would the Wizarding World have to force them into submission, into oppression, perhaps making slaves out of them the way they do it with Squibs? It’s just for their best to keep them away, really.
Here a handful of prejudices Branwen‘s fosters. But mind you, she is not only outspoken about them but also doesn‘t have enough … incentive to fight about it. None of this really regards her, she finds. She will fight about everything and anything, but not for moral reasons. As long as her status of a mightier Witch isn‘t doubted, she won‘t fight with people who say Halfbloods‘ magic is valid. However if they say it‘s as strong as hers, she‘ll want to fight to prove them wrong. So if the war would end in favour of the Order, she‘d be like, okay, as long as I get to keep my privileges. Being rich. Getting an education. Having people respect her noble status. Etcetera etcetera.
All those beliefs she holds are beliefs because they were taught to her as facts. Not as opinions. What drives people angry are when opinions are being challenged. “This movie was bad”. She‘d fight people on that. But the same way no one would fight another person about the colour of bananas, she has no reason to fight people about the dirtiness of Muggles. It‘s just a fact. They clean their houses with mops! So that‘s perhaps a reason why she manages to not get into arguments with other Order members. Because she either thinks them uneducated about certain topics – or her silence forces her to listen to what they call facts, quietly challenging what she thought to be the only truth.
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thewolfprince · 5 years
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An Animorphs Pride
Animorphs AU: An Animorphs Pride
Modern, Pride month, no powers, LGBT, school
[Written for @theandxlitebandits for the @the--abomination ‘s Animorphs Fic Exchange.
Characters: Animorphs (Jake, Cassie, Rachel, Tobias, Marco, Aximili)]
/////////////////////////////////////
My name is Jake. Jake Berenson. I’m bisexual.
Today was the day of our town’s Pride event. A parade, booths and games.
This is the first year my little ragtag group of LGBT+ people went. There’s me, a bisexual and cis male. There’s Marco, who’s bisexual and a demiboy. There’s Marco’s boyfriend Aximili, who we all call Ax. Ax just calls himself queer.
There’s my girlfriend, Cassie. She’s non-binary and pansexual. Then there’s Tobias, who’s a transgender male and polysexual. Lastly, my cousin Rachel, who’s cis female and asexual. Rachel and Tobias are dating—although if you asked either of them, they’ll deny it.
“So,” Marco swung his arm over Ax’s shoulders. “What’s the plan, cap?”
“Yes. Plan. Pl. laaaaan. Nn. Plaaaaan.” Ax grinned.
The three of us had just picked Ax up and were heading towards Tobias’s house. Tobias was still in the closet—literally. As I pulled up, I could see through the broken window in Tobias’s room that he was putting on his binder.
Marco wolf-whistled, giving me a grin as Tobias looked out the window. His hair was messy and he had one arm at his side. The other one was in the air like it was gonna give the closet a high-five.
“Put on a shirt!” Ax yelled helpfully. I facepalmed. I heard Tobias squeak above us before vanishing. Footsteps ran down the stairs. The door opened and Tobias slid in the back, a MCR shirt over his binder, now properly hidden.
Then we would go to Pride and meet Cassie and Rachel there. They had gotten a ride from Cassie’s mom, who thought we were going to an art museum then getting lunch.
I turned down the road, smiling as I saw people decked out in rainbow attire. Some held balloons, some wore crazy socks.
“Hey Tob,” I pointed at a teen wearing a trans flag as a cape.
“Awesome.” He whispered.
I parked the car and turned off the engine. We all hopped out. Marco wore a backpack that held sunscreen, water, food, and the very few Pride items we owned.
Cassie and Rachel jogged towards us. Rachel—unsurprisingly—held a camera in her hands. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go take some pictures by that statue!”
We took a few pictures by this statue of an old war general. Someone had given it rainbow shades and a gay flag draped over it’s horse.
I took out my bisexual pin, pinning it to my shirt. I handed Tobias his ‘he/him/his’ pronoun button. Cassie grabbed her ‘she/her’ and ‘they/them’ buttons. Marco grabbed his hat with the bisexual flag sewen onto it. Rachel took her flannel shirt off, revealing a “While you were busy experiencing sexual attraction, I studied the blade” tank top, which Marco had given her. Ax wore a small pride armband.
“Look!” Ax pointed to a float that was shaped like a giant Cinnamon bun. Marco grabbed his hand and dragged him over to a spot where they could see it better.
We all walked around, enjoying this chance to be out and proud.
Even though we lived in a “progressive” state, there were still things that happened here. A nasty look. Deliberate misgendering. A sharp remark.
I pulled Cassie closer as we all started walking across the street to get pizza. Once we passed through the gates, the air felt hostile. I opened the door to the pizza place as Marco cracked a joke, grinning as I stuck my foot out to try and trip him.
He hopped over my foot and I let the door close behind me. A woman walked over to us, holding a clipboard. “Welcome to Tony’s Pizzeria, may I take your order please?”
We told her our drink orders and Tobias pulled out his souvenir water bottle from The Gardens that Cassie had given to him for his birthday.
“May I have water, please?” He asked the waitress, who nodded but didn’t move to take it. He stared at her for a few seconds before she said, “Sir, I can’t take it until you take the cap off.”
“Oh.” Tobias said, ducking his head down in embarrassment. “Okay. Sorry.” He unscrewed the kid and handed the bottle to her.
“Be right back.” She walked off.
We chatted for a few moments. Cassie was telling a story of how she saved a baby goose when suddenly I heard a man behind me.
“Queer kids.”
My chest constricted and a cold wave washed down my body. Rachel snapped her gaze up, opening her mouth. Marco and Cassie both grabbed her arms. Tobias sunk into his seat a bit.
Ax looked at us. “What’s wr-wr-rrrrrrrrrrrong?” He asked. “Ong. On on on.”
“That guy just called us ‘queer’.” I muttered, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He looked like one of the cooks.
“Yeah. He said, ‘who’s gonna take the queer kids’.” Rachel growled. “Let go of me, Marco.”
Marco let go, but whispered. “We need a plan. Just Incase.”
“We run. We split then meet back up at that statue.” I said.
The others nodded. Tobias pulled his trans flag off and stuffed it into his backpack.
We ate silently once the pizza came, then stood up and left right when a group of adults came in adorning make up and pride flags and a lot of glitter.
Tobias turned back. “Shit!”
“What?” We looked at him.
“I left my water bottle in there.” His left hand started flapping. “The one Cassie got me!” I took his other hand. “Hey. I’ll go in with you, yeah? We’ll see if it’s still there.” Tobias looked distressed, but nodded, hand still flapping.
We entered and walked back to the booth we had sat in. There was no sign of the water bottle. “Excuse me,” I tapped on the waitress’s shoulder. She looked at me. “My friend left his water bottle in here—do you guys have a place where you keep things, like a lost-and-found?”
“I can check. Give me a minute.” She walked to the back. I rubbed circles on Tobias’s hand as he continued moving his other one, albeit more subtly.
“Sorry guys. It’s not there.” The lady frowned a gave a tiny shrug.
“Thank you.” Tobias gripped my hand and led me outside.
“Did you get it?” Rachel asked. Tobias shook his head. “We can go back and ask to look ourselves.” Marco suggested.
Tobias shook his head. “It’s fine.” He mumbled. He let go of my hand as Ax reached into his backpack and grabbed a fidget cube, handing it to Tobias without a word.
“The next time I go back, I’ll get you another one. Promise.” Cassie smiled at Tobias, who shrugged. “You don’t have to.” He said.
Rachel just shook her head and wrapped an arm around Tobias. “Let’s go and beat the crowds.”
Ax grinned. “Truck! Ruck. Tr. Tr. Ruck. Uck uck uck.”
I led the way back to my truck, turned on the engine, and everyone piled into the cab.
I drove as Cassie finished her story in the passenger side. Marco launched into more rounds of jokes. Tobias stimmed, mouthing words as he looked down into his lap. Rachel sat next to him, occasionally saying something. Ax was in the bed of the truck, just lying down.
My name is Jake. I have wonderful friends, who are all pretty cool. I’m just an average teenager. And I’m bisexual.
//////////////
I’m so sorry if this is late! I’ve been busy helping my friend and just got the motivation to finish this!
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aroaceassociates · 6 years
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VFD LGBTQ+ Headcanons
Happy Pride Month to all of my LGBTQ+ followers. When you think of how far you have to go, remember how far you’ve come, and all those who came before you. Whether you’re out or not, you’ve made it here, and you should be proud of that. 
In celebration of this month, I’d like to present some headcanons and thoughts on Lemony’s generation of VFD, back when they were in training. As usual, I’m mostly focusing on the book versions of characters, although I included Jacquelyn because...why not? (I think I’ll probably do similar posts about the younger ASoUE generation, as well as the citizens of Stain’d-by-the-Sea, at some point later this month.)
VFD has a reputation of being generally pretty good when it comes to LGBTQ+ things—its members operate primarily outside of whatever society they happened to be stationed in, so this tends to be true regardless of the branch
So back in the days when Lemony’s generation were still undergoing their training, VFD HQ in the City was a safe place in more ways than one
Lemony may never have met Qwerty before his apprenticeship, but some of the older members of that group did—Gregor, Ish, the Denouements, Jacques and Kit
Dashiell Qwerty, who was always open about his orientation and gender, who wore pronoun pins (he/him/his or they/them/theirs) and pride buttons (aromantic, bisexual) on his jacket, who did a lot of work in educating people both within VFD and without about LGBTQ+ identities and community issues
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Gregor, Kit, and Frank, who grew up with Qwerty as a role model, were the first in their generation of involuntary volunteers to start questioning
Gregor (trans guy) and Kit (pansexual) figured things out when they were fairly young, even if it took a little more time and research for them to find the right words; Frank continued questioning for years to come, but eventually became alright with not knowing—he was never as quick to label and categorize things as his brothers were
VFD raised neophytes and apprentices to seek out information; as the older members of the generation became teenagers, more of them did just that
Kit, who had learned early on that she liked people regardless of gender, took it upon herself to become an expert on LGBTQ+ terms so that she could help support her friends (and her brothers—she was the one to suggest that Jacques look into aromanticism and asexuality)
Dewey, Jacques, Miranda, and Gregor worked to expand the VFD library to include more materials on LGBTQ+ identities and history
By the time the slightly younger volunteers (Beatrice, R, Lemony, Josephine, Monty, Sally, Hector, Olivia, etc.) started looking more into LGBTQ+ orientations and identities, their branch of VFD had a fairly strong support network in place
Of their circle, R was the first to come out (first as a lesbian, later as grey-ace as well), followed by Monty (aroace)
Beatrice and Josephine came out at the same time, because Beatrice told her friends that she was bisexual and Josephine was surprised into immediately reacting with “wait, so am I!”
The next round of VFD kids to grow up (Gustav, Larry, Jacquelyn, etc.) looked up to all of them the same way the older ones once looked up to Qwerty
Kit was still the one to go to if you were looking for broad information, but since she often wasn’t around, Beatrice or Hector were always willing to help
The same was true of Bertrand after he joined; he’d also help you write love poems (platonic or romantic or whatever) in exchange for a high-five
Georgina Orwell came so close to asking him to help her write one for Josephine when she had a crush on her but just...couldn’t bring herself to do it. The price was too high.
Dewey and Jacques were the experts on LGBTQ+ history, and could (and would) tell you about anything from City protests to political movements to prominent LGBTQ+ figures from centuries past
Monty, Hector, Thursday, and Lizzie (Lizzie Haines absolutely joined VFD in the years after ATWQ, just on account of who she is as a person) did a lot of work in intersectional issues, specifically in providing support and information for LGBTQ+ people of color and neurodivergent and disabled volunteers
Gustav worked with them on their various projects once he was older
They also focused on furthering LGBTQ+ rights outside of VFD
On a similar note (even if she didn’t join VFD until during the events of ASoUE), Justice Strauss pushed LGBTQ+ issues throughout her legal career, although it wasn’t until later in life that she started questioning her own gender and orientation
Because of the constant relocating the VFD members went through, as well as the flammability of material belongings, most of them didn’t have many possessions growing up, but amidst worn copies of books packed tightly into small suitcases were more than a few pride pins, flags, etc.
Other volunteers made due with nail polish in flag colors; at least one of those who volunteered at an older age opted to get the VFD eye tattoo in a rainbow color scheme instead of the standard black
It was probably Lizzie Haines
When the City started hosting pride celebrations, volunteers from both side of the scism showed up, and there was always a sort of mutual truce until it was over
The same went for protests
As they got older, drifting apart and back together, all of them took comfort in exchanged letters, coded messages, and other reminders that they were not alone, as members of both a secret organization and the LGBTQ+ community
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vieuxnoyesrp · 7 years
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Dani. Katherine Pierce has become infamous not just as a character - but as tool that’s been used time and time again to spice up many storylines - both on the show and in many roleplay spinoffs that stemmed from it. Just like her personality, there’s both a thrill and a danger to that; the former because she’s so fun to have around, the latter because it’s so unfortunately easy to see her turned into a flat stereotype or a poorly-layered plot contrivance. For us, your application was refreshing in that you went back to the basics; showed us the building-blocks of her character and alluded to the links she still has to her past. She felt more human than myth. Your headcanons were totally outside-of-the-box and your writing was impeccable. Most of all, we loved that you showed us who Katherine is as an individual; beyond the overly familiar scope of her connections to the men in her life; to Klaus, Elijah or the Salvatores. You hit the nail on the head with this application and we’re grateful for it!
Dani, thank you very much for applying. As for Katherine… 
                       ⚜ ~ WELCOME TO VIEUX NOYÉS!!! ~ ⚜
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⚜ Roleplayer:
⤜ Name/alias: Dani ⤜ Pronouns: She/Her ⤜ Age: 20 ⤜ Timezone: EST ⤜ Activity: I try to be on at least once a day, though replies tend to take a day or two to get done! These last months have been a bit stressful, but after next week’s hiatus a lot of time will be clearing up which will allow me to participate daily rather than every other day, or every other other day. ⤜ Best form of contact: (Skype, gmail, or just here on tumblr, etc.) My twitter: daniellaferri or my skype danidanidani are all good! ParacosmicMuse is also an alternative since it’s my personal. ⤜ Any Triggers? (If so, please tell us how you want the subject to be treated in this roleplay (whether to be tagged accordingly or avoided completely, etc.) Shootings, gun violence, eating disorders, sexual assault ⤜ How did you find Vieux Noyés? Rose was kind enough to recommend it to me at a time I was looking for another writing group. ⤜ What drew you to the RP? Not trying to kiss major ass or anything, but the admins. I’ve known all of you a brief amount of time truly, but the fact that you three are collaborating makes me feel in insanely good hands. The RP itself has so much attention to detail and wonderful people, of course, and that creative take on these characters keeps me motivated to be a part of it all. ⤜ What is one subplot/element from the Plot page that you are particularly looking forward to seeing in this roleplay? I’m really eager to see the Salem and New Orleans witches play, tbh. Like I love everything, but I’m really excited to see how ancestral magic and magic from the earth differentiate and how the covens ( the NOLA one already having major differences and a weak community at the moment ) will co-exist. Also, what will the ancestors say about it? Cause from what I’ve seen on TO they have a lot more dominion over their coven than i think the witches realize, and I don’t see the ancestors responding too well to the possibility of their legacies switching over to a different kind of magic, with a group of foreigners. It all sounds really interesting, I hope I get to see that played out one day.
⚜ Desired Character:
⤜ Why do you want this character?
TVD was a show that took a while, and some effort, for me to get into. I always stopped watching after season 2 simply because I didn’t feel entirely attached to the problems the ensemble faced, nor was I a fan of the ‘love triangle’ trope in my fourteen or fifteen years of age. One of my few favorite parts of the show was Katherine Pierce. I think she was a really underutilized character. In attempts to kind of do something bigger and greater, the writers threw her potential under the bus and the more I think on her character, the more I wonder about her mentality, her development, and what her story would have been where she not pushed into irrelevancy in the middle of the series. I really want to explore that in this new setting.
⤜ What are your future plans for this character?
I  want to test Katherine’s resolve, and her self-acceptance. She’s adamant about no longer running, and yet, she has a slew of enemies in New Orleans, multiple characters who wouldn’t mind killing her or casting her out, and do not owe her any favors. So while she tries to develop a network of defenses as she has all her life, I really want to see where that humanity comes in, and whether or not she’s willing to confront the fact that a part of her genuinely wants to live ( not just survive ), if it means fighting against, not just physical violence against her, but  people’s beliefs about her, and a lot of distrust that has just generally followed her around in all her time running from Klaus.
⤜ Put yourself in your character’s shoes. Give us a few lines to describe a day in the life of your character… Where do they live? Where and how do they spend their time?
Not one for traipsing across the Bayou in heels, or finding comfort in the solitary fields by the old plantation homes, Katherine Pierce has settled down at the heart of the city. Well, sort of. For now, she stays at the Hotel Royal, intent on hunting for real estate only after she’s obtained sanctuary from either of the notorious king pins of the quarter: Klaus Mikaelson or Marcel Gerard. For now, she remains unlisted, under their noses, and the patron of an all inclusive continental breakfast. She knows the constant bustling streets will work in her favor, seeing as she needs to lay low for awhile.
Katherine is always on the go, which means, unless she’s certain no one in her vicinity will go blabbing to some higher-up about her location, she doesn’t linger in many coffee shops or bars. She favors the antiquities shop occasionally, for it’s cluttered space, and luxury finds, gets her morning coffee at the French Market when she doesn’t order it at the hotel, and, should she need to meet someone for a chat, she’ll usually take to some overzealous tourist trap bar on Bourbon Street.
By now she’s noticed a few key players making constant appearances at Rousseau’s and Tulane University. Which is why if she’s ever spotted there, it’s usually because she wants to be found. At the moment her days are spent trying to establish enough formidable connections so that, should things go south she won’t have to flee, again.
⤜ Give us three headcanons regarding your character of choice.
Second to Mystic Falls ( Circa 1800s ),  Île-de-France remains Katherine’s favorite place she’s traveled. She had arrived in the Parisian Region in 1718, and had managed to reside there for as many as four years before continuing the game of cat and mouse Klaus refused to relieve her of. In that brief time, she’d assimilated beautifully to the luxury, the politics, the gambling of the aristocrats. The men found her beautiful, and she basked in the jewels she’d been gifted, and the balls she’d been taken to. The Palace of Versailles has seen blood spilt by her before, and still it retains some of her happier memories of the past. Briefly, the formidable château made her feel safe, without leaving her bored. She resents that it’s more of a tourist attraction now.
Her license is expired, but her IDs are always up to date. With the aid of several supernaturals in the identity theft ring, Katherine has been known to keep herself under the radar with the use of countless false identification cards, all up to date, all dummy-proof. Still, she has no driver’s license, and her current one is a few years past. Usually, she’ll compel her way out of traffic violations, and drive when necessary, but makes use of taxi cabs and compact cities to keep her off foot and unreported.
Katherine has but one keepsake from her past. Too much time on the run, and too little emotional involvement left her taking only what she needed in her travels. And though she’d sooner mock the everyday hoarder, than replicate them, Katherine still holds onto the resin light blue cameo necklace she wore during her time at the Salvatore Estate. Bewitched by Emily Bennett, the pendant became outdated over time, but unlike the rest of her daylight accessories from her past, this jewel was one she carried with her well into the next century. To this day, it remains in her jewelry box, carrying memories of a time in love she’s not willing to forget so easily.
⤜ What are some plots you’d like to explore with your characater?
I’m looking forward to the plot between her and Caroline. This misunderstanding that Elena was the one who turned her seems so interesting to me, and refreshing, that I really want to see how Katherine will attempt to play it all out in her favor, and what her back up plan might be should Caroline discover the truth and redirect her anger to it’s rightful owner.
I also look forward to seeing how Katherine ‘play’s nice’, for lack of a better term, with Marcel. She’s so prideful that I feel like there’s definitely room for struggle there, in terms of how much ass she’s willing to kiss and how much she’s willing to bank on the king of New Orleans. Also, Klaus and Marcel have a very temperamental relationship, so I think it’d be really fun to explore how Katherine keeps up with, and plots around, that unsteady alliance.
In regards to developing her character, I really want to see how Katherine will fight to remain in New Orleans. By that I mean, I noticed a lot of her connections don’t really understand why she’s decided to finally stop running, and stop in New Orleans of all places. And I think the character herself struggles to accept/address how deep that longing for stable ground and love runs, or how long its been festering. Since she’s truly put herself in ‘the lion’s den’, as it were, I want to see her earn that freedom from those that want to kill her, but I also want to see her realize that not all of it is as easy as an endless list of back up plans and manipulation tactics.
⤜ Para sample:
(Retained for privacy.)
————— ⤜ Would you like to be considered for another character if not accepted as your primary choice? No, i’ll stick to just Bonnie. But thank you! ⤜ Have you read the rules? Yes ⤜ Anything else? That’s all <3
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