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dream-with-a-fever · 17 days

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in defence of ginny weasley (ft fleur delacour)

never thought i would feel strongly enough about this topic to comment on it, but the ginny bashing in this fandom is just insane so i thought why the hell not. ginny seems to get hate for everything under the sun from being being a mary sue who can do no wrong in anyone’s eyes (meaning she’s boring and uninteresting as a character) to being a nasty bully responsible for hurting those around her (??? and they’re both completely contradictory statements btw). when the latter is brought up, ginny’s “terrible” mistreatment of fleur is always front and centre. ‘she’s nasty, she’s cruel, she is a jealous bully etc!’ and i just feel like we should put on our thinking caps and actually take a step back for a fucking second. people may disagree with me, but i think ginny’s reaction to fleur was totally understandable — and reminder, she is a TEENAGE girl, (not to mention both mrs weasley and hermione held fleur in the same regard but no one seems to focus on that side of things).

now in the books, we do see ginny mocking fleur, calling her ‘phlegm’ behind her back, imitating her gait and elegance, expressing her annoyance at her newfound presence in their lives.

let’s look at why she might have reacted that way. first of all, in general, we see that the w are a very humble and welcoming family; they don’t have much but what they do have, they are more than willing to share with others. their financial circumstance plays a massive role in how the characters in the wea clan react and interact with others (as seen with their refusal to accept money from harry etc). their sense of pride in that regard is also quite prevalent. we see that when harry first goes to the burrow, ron is slightly embarrassed by his home, painfully aware of the way many people in the wizarding community view/judge them. when harry goes on to say it’s best place he’s ever seen, we immediately see how touched ron is. ginny is the same in that sense — embarrassed that she has second hand robes & books etc, but at the same time she, like ron, is fiercely protective of what they do have, and what they as a family stand for. they are also very protective of people they love inside and outside of the family (see, ron with ginny, mrs weasleys with all of them etc).

this is relevant because one of the reasons ginny and in turn mrs weasley, have a problem with fleur is the way she talks to them. despite them inviting her into their home, fleur makes her distaste clear even if it is in small ways. she says it’s boring at their house as there’s nothing to do, she often talks disparagingly about how things are done in the weasley household, she loudly mocks celestina warbeck (who mrs weasley loves to play at christmas time) and insults her, she speaks badly about tonks several times etc. her words and mannerisms are also viewed by some (ginny etc) as very pretentious and arrogant — also rather posh, a sign of her family’s wealth (which might have been a sore spot for ginny also).

now don’t get me wrong. i love fleur as a character. i think she’s really cool, charming and brave, and i wish we got to see more of her honestly!! i think she makes a lovely contrast to the other younger characters, and i think she undergoes some nice character development in the books we do see her in. it’s also very clear to me, that when she acts the way she does, it is never out of malice or cruelty— it comes from a place of openness and honesty — which often comes across as quite blunt. it’s a cultural disconnect in many ways; when she inadvertently insults people throughout the books, i think it’s pretty obvious she isn’t trying to hurt anyone’s feelings. but i also think it’s obvious how this attitude might annoy those around her.

calling ginny is a big bad bully for disliking fleur (in the beginning), when her behaviour towards the weasley family would make anyone a bit frustrated, is a bit far. not to mention, her individual treatment of ginny is understandably annoying - ginny complains that fleur is very condescending when speaking to her (‘you’d think i were about three!’).

there’s also the fact that ginny is bill’s little sister. he is her favourite brother (as seen from the way she respects him and his opinions, looks up to him - she wanted to go to hogwarts ever since bill went!). ginny having a reaction to her brother’s new girlfriend is very normal - he’s her big brother! all his attention is now on his new girlfriend - who ginny finds to be full of herself, patronising & annoying. part of her may also be worried that fleur will end up breaking his heart in the end — because she’s protective of her brother.

add the fact that her brother and old crush and basically every man ever is drawn to her because of her godly beauty (as a part veela), her and bill’s wont to shower each other in public displays of affection (who wants to see their brother doing this!?) and the fact that ginny always gotten along with tonks (the person her and molly had in mind for bill’s future partner) has always treated her kindly and as an equal, and therefore would much prefer as a sister-in-law — it’s not that surprising that ginny feels the way she does towards fleur.

nevertheless, do i think this is something ginny would grow out of? yes, of course. we already see changes in their relationship in the final book. besides, a lot of this stuff is surface level, as ginny and fleur don’t know all that much about each other — i think fleur’s love for bill (especially shown in the hospital wing after he’s been attacked by greyback) definitely changes the way ginny regards her. i also like to think that they grew closer as they got older, as with age comes maturity, and with maturity comes understanding. i also feel that fleur was someone who really stepped up when it came to supporting the weasleys after fred’s death, something that ginny would have appreciated. i see them having a nice relationship later in life.

ANYWAY, this was an exceedingly long rant for which i apologise but i have often seen people talk about how nasty ginny is to fleur, and i think it’s so unfair to not look at the context which leads to her being a little frustrated at her future sister in law. plus, she is allowed to dislike someone who she does not get along with and who she finds unpleasant to be around. we all have people like that in our lives but god forbid ginny does…not to mention, ginny is never openly rude to her EVER, and she’s allowed to voice her frustrations to her friends/family. the fact people call her an outright bully for this is just insane.

people on here will defend so many other dubious characters but the second a teenage character with good intentions makes a mistake / doesn’t act perfectly (i.e ron, ginny), they are suddenly the epitome of evil in human form, i mean get a grip, honestly. also one last quick thing(!!!), i do note some people blame jkr for writing her female characters this way, as we’ve seen the way she seems to frown upon conventional/typical displays of femininity (lavender and parvati being seen as ‘silly’ girls with frivolous thoughts, cho chang as overly emotional - despite having a very rational reaction to the death of her boyfriend, fleur as overly feminine and therefore less serious/intelligent). her heroines are women who often conceal or discard these more feminine traits — and i will say that despite loving these characters very much, i do think some more nuance here, could have been very beneficial to the story, and to the message being sent to young female/female identifying readers. there is strength in femininity, and rejecting feminine traits does not make you more or less a person.

okay, rant over. if you actually got to the end, bless you, if not — well, that’s totally fair (lol). also please don’t kill me in the comment section if you disagree. this is just my two cents. ok that’s all.

#ginny weasley #harry potter #hp #book ginny #fleur delacour #fleur x bill #hermione granger #ginevra weasley #ginevra molly weasley #harry x ginny #hinny #hp meta #hp fandom #hp thoughts

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

After an eternity of being held against your will, and just as long having been forced to watch your alpha suffer at the hands of the wicked, an opportunity arose. An opportunity so rare, so unique, that it would never be offered again. It was time to escape, and it was time to bathe the halls in their blood — never again would you be held by the bars of a cell, not if he could stop it.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Alpha!Winter Soldier x Pet!Omega!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 2.0k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — Angst, whump, gore, background character death (graphic), DARK THEMES, fluff, omegaverse, Protective!Winter Soldier is an understatement

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — I am on a new kick, sue me.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 — Where Is Your God Now by Rok Nardin — Ambush by Trevor Morris — Darkness of Light by Secession Studios

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 — @allcapsbingo 𝗜𝟱 — Hydra Base — Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Ragged clothes rubbed against your sensitive, raw skin, and you whimpered in your throat – the sound barely making it past your lips as they hauled you to the cells deep within the base.

For years you had been kept as a pet, as a thing for the Soldat to expend his anger and fury, for him to toy and play with, some meek prey. Merely an omega for an alpha to claim; one of the deadliest.

That’s what they imagined you to be, at least.

When that bank vault of a cell door slammed behind you and the guards disappeared, gleeful at the idea of you being beaten or attacked to within an inch of your life, you blinked rapidly in the darkness to find the occupant, who, ordinally, would have made your blood run cold.

Not now.

Not when he was still in his black tactical suit, beaten and bloodied, head lolling on the wall as he looked up at you. There was a ghost of an expression in his eyes – blank with malice and a predatory glint. The mask that covered the lower half of his face was splattered with a manner of fluids that made your stomach turn.

He didn’t recognise you, and your blood ran cold at the implication. You slowly showed your hands; steel grey eyes watched every inch of movement. “Soldat,” you whispered, and he blinked twice.

The stench of exhaustion was bitter on your senses, burning your sinuses, and an overwhelming urge to calm, to comfort, overcame you. You ventured closer, feet silent over the damp cement of his cell.

“Soldat,” you repeated. “Alpha, come home.”

He looked closer at you, expression drawn and tight, until a glimpse of recognition softened his features and he launched to his feet. “Malyutka–you are hurt,” he rasped, and his hands – one metal, one bloodied flesh – immediately brushed against your sides and over your sore ribs. “Oh, my little one, where else? Tell me.”

You pointed at your knee and your head. “H-Hit me, there. And I dun’ wan’ do as they said-” A loud hiccuped sob interrupted your explanation. Soldat’s cold thumb brushed your cheek and a growl made his chest rumble, a sound that soothed you. “They–” His hands guided yours to his chest holster.

“Breathe,” he reminded gently, encouraging you wordlessly to take from him – take what you needed. You gripped the straps and leant into his warmth, leeching the comfort.

“They- They hurt me,” you whimpered.

“Come,” he murmured, and he slowly guided you towards his cot. It was a glorified stretch of canvas between affixed metal poles, and the singular blanket was threadbare, but you went willingly.

The metal groaned in protest as he sat down, back against the wall, and he pulled you close, gesturing at his lap. “Come here. Sit.”

Without protest, you straddled his lap, your bare thighs rubbing against the rough canvas of his pants and leather straps of his weapon holsters. “Alpha,” you murmured, tucking your nose into his neck.

Soldat’s hand cupped the back of your neck in a firm hold, a low growl still in his throat. “They will pay,” he snarled, and for the first time, a thrill of fear coiled around your already rapidly beating heart. “Do not worry, little one–I will make them pay.”

You blinked through tears and murmured into his neck, “How–? We are stuck.”

He shook his head and he held your waist. You pulled back from his neck to stare into his eyes, only there was a crinkle in the corner of one; a deadly smirk hidden by the muzzle. “Not any longer, malyutka. They think with how I have completed my missions that I do not need to be wiped as often–I have not seen that chair in three days.”

Gasping sharply, you gripped the holsters in your filthy hands. “What–?”

“I have been taken all through the base. They think I am nothing but a mere shell–I can get us out.” The words made a torrent of ice cascade into your stomach, and he sensed it. “I need to get you out. I need to take care of you, little one. You are my omega, my dragotsennyy.”

“Where will we go?” you quietly asked, staring into those steely eyes. “Where will we be safe, alpha?”

“I will find you a safe haven,” he promised, and he brought your forehead to his. You could feel his breath through the slits of his mask and you matched his rhythm. “You will be safe–never set foot in a cell again, be hurt again.” His hand pushed your face back into his neck and you nuzzled there, breathing deep and taking in the scent of protective alpha.

“Trust you, alpha,” you mumbled, and he hummed in response.

It could have been hours later, or days, when he suddenly moved; hair tickled your cheek with his whip-like focus. “We need to move. Now,” he rushed, placing you on your feet.

“But–”

He shook his head and pulled you to the wall next to the door, shielding you with his bulk. “You must stay behind me at all times.” Resting a hand on his belt, you nodded just as the cell door opened with a loud creak.

“Well, I can’t see a body-” Gurgling and sputtering cut the guard’s words short, and you realised, horrorstruck, that your alpha’s metal hand was covered in blood, clutching what was the guard’s windpipe.

Blood sprayed the walls and the guard slumped to the floor with wide eyes, choking on his own blood with a rattling gargle. The radio on his belt went wild with chatter and screams of containment breach.

“Move,” Soldat commanded, and you followed behind him, hand still on his lower back. “I will take you to the-” More guards crowded the corridors – all of them carried guns and other weapons, all of them looked ready to kill.

“Malyutka, hide.” Hands shoved you to the side and into a metal locker before slamming the door. There was a commotion and shouts for weapons to be lowered before chaos broke loose.

Bullets sprayed the wall next to you and you screamed, instinctively ducking and covering your head as they peppered the cement and metal by your legs – they weren’t shooting to kill, you thought.

Grunts and yells of pain filled your ears but you didn’t hear a single thing from your alpha, not even a shout, when all of the gunfire ceased. The door suddenly opened and you were bathed in light. “Are you hit?” Soldat asked gruffly, his face covered in blood. “Did they get you?”

You shook your head timidly. “No–I am fine.”

His hand grabbed your arm and he pulled you out of the locker. The floor was a river of blood and the walls were covered with trails of crimson – a stark contrast to the clinical white you were used to.

“There is a window of time between the next wave,” Soldat explained, leading you down a service corridor by some boilers. “Here.” He shoved you in front of him as he plied the drywall away with his bare hands, revealing a dumbwaiter. “Get in. This leads to the surface, straight to the truck bay. Hide in the closest locker, I will find you.”

“What about you–”

“Do not argue, little one, I need you safe. Go,” he rushed, pushing you into the dumbwaiter. “I will find you, do not worry.”

Before you could argue, the dumbwaiter began to move and the last you saw of your Soldat was the back of his head as he turned and ran back down the corridor. The contraption shuddered and groaned as it moved, and you guessed it was ancient.

Moments later it came to a shaky stop and revealed the expansive truck bay. Heavy footfalls and more shouts were echoing off the walls and through to the outside world – a pack of guards ran close by the dumbwaiter as you squeaked in fear.

In the chaos, they did not see you and you breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, you eased your sore body out of the cramped space and looked around, desperately searching for the locker your alpha had commanded you to hide in, when you spotted it – hidden in a nook of the wall and next to some kind of electrical equipment.

It was a tight fit, but you pushed yourself into the space and you waited, breath shaky and stomach curdling in fear. “Please be safe,” you whispered to the stale air. “I need you.”

You could hear guards yelling and screaming; heavy footsteps of armoured men ran by you and crashed into the many doors that led off the bay. Gunfire echoed even through the thick walls and whenever one of the doors swung open, you caught a whiff of iron laced with pure, unbridled terror, and underneath it all, the gunpowder, leather scent of your alpha.

He was close.

The seconds, minutes, hours ticked by, but you remained, still as stone in your hiding place, when you heard the thump of boots and squelch of wet leather by the dumbwaiter. Whoever it was reeked of iron and it smothered their natural scent. “Malyutka, ty tam?”

Before you thought better of it, you burst through the door of the locker and came face to face with your alpha, who was covered in blood and ash – the black mask that covered the lower half of his face was gone, too. You gasped and covered your mouth in shock. “I- I didn’t know it was you!”

“Spokoynyy, little one,” he soothed, “I know you are scared, it is alright.” You took a deep breath as he looked around the bay. There was an emergency shower in the corner. “Come, we will get rid of their scent and we will run, we need to get out of here.” He stalked towards the cubicle and glanced over his shoulder at the door he must have come out of. “I did not leave a single one alive, but that does not mean they did not call for more.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” you whispered, looking over your own shoulder at the trail of blood behind you both.

The water of the shower was freezing and your teeth chattered through the worst of it, but your alpha stayed close, manifesting an outfit from nowhere to dry and clothe you with.

As you rubbed your arms for warmth, he stood in the shower cubicle and scrubbed at his body until the water circling the drain turned from red, to pink, to clear. Once he dried himself, he dressed in similar clothes to his tactical suit, but more discreet – covering his arm and hiding his bulk with the loose fit.

You couldn’t help but smile as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards a black car, windows as dark as the paint, and he pulled open the passenger door. The interior was clean and sleek, and he slid into the driver’s seat.

The seat belt was a foreign sensation across your chest as you buckled in at his insistence. “Where are you taking us?”

“I know of a man that owes them,” he gestured to the base. “Well, he owed them something. It is not known of my defection, so, he will be of use.”

Nodding slowly, you glanced around the car, happy to feel the bonds of your captors fade by the moment.

Soldat paused suddenly, his fingers that were playing with colourful wires freezing as he looked at you, his eyes bright. “You are happy.” With his mask gone, you could see his nostrils flaring as he greedily scented the air for your sweet, content scent; one that truly never saw the light of day in that cell. “Takoy krasivyy aromat, i mne nravitsya videt' tebya schastlivym, malyutka.”

You reached for his forearm and squeezed. “We are free,” you said quietly, careful to watch his eyes to see the fondness there, of what he only held for you. “And I have you, alpha.”

malyutka = little one dragotsennyy = precious ty tam = are you there takoy krasivyy aromat, i mne nravitsya videt' tebya schastlivym = such a beautiful scent, and I love seeing you happy

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

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