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zutarasbuff · 2 months

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Found this somewhere on Tumblr, it infuriated me to a great extent and forced me to crush the “coloniser-colonial romance” accusation against the Zutara nation. For this, you need to read everything quite carefully that will be presented to you.

So people who accuse Zutara use this narrative that Zuko had a princely life as a colonizer, unlike Katara. Now look at the ground reality:

Katara’s mother Kya lied to Yon Rha that she was the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe to save her daughter. A similar act was done by Ursa (Zuko’s mother) who killed Firelord Azulon with her potion as part of her deal with Ozai to save the life of her son Zuko and got banished eventually. That makes us come to one certain conclusion:

Both Zuko and Katara spent greater part of their life without their mothers and this impacted their childhood badly as we find them dealing with the trauma of loss even after they hit puberty.

As if the absence of a mother was not enough, when Hakoda (Katara’s father) leaves with the fleet for the war, it’s almost the same time when we find Ozai getting immersed in attacking other nations, so much so that he’s never there for both of his children. Technically speaking, even if Ozai was there physically, he was never emotionally available for his children being a narcissistic father.

I would say that Zuko had the worst childhood experience as compared to Katara because Katara had a brother who always supported his sister in dealing with the trauma, but we don’t see that in the case of Zuko whose own sister used to bully him right from the childhood for being too weak and the mom’s pet.

Now let’s analyze the colonizer part. Unfortunately, Zuko was born to a father who was not just the worst ruler but an equally worse son, brother, husband, and father. One can say that Zuko’s only fault was to hail from a wrong family but other than that, he was never a colonizer. You may ask why. I will give you a reason.

It’s not just Katara who has to bear the ill effects of the war that was imposed on her, but in many ways Zuko was a direct victim of what we call “Emotional Imperialism”. In psychology, it’s a condition where the colonizers not just physically take control of their colonies, but they start infusing their ideals deep into the mentality of their subjects as well.

Coming back to the case of Zuko, we find that he never gets to formulate the normal father-son relationship with Ozai, rather Ozai treats both his children as his humble subjects who need to obey him unquestionably and need to be perfect as his subjects. He’s in every sense not just a narcissistic parent but a controlling one as well who emotionally traps both his children and wants to rule over them at every cost. The apparent manifestation of this emotional imperialism is evident through:

Zuko’s quest to be the best firebender

When the colonizers start ruling over a certain colony, it’s the colonials who feel the need to be validated by their masters. It’s their first survival strategy that they embrace the change as they know resistance is going to be of no use. They simply adapt themselves to the new ideals that are set forth by their ruling masters. Similarly, Ozai always wanted his children to be the absolute embodiment of Azulon’s great bloodline and both his children obliged to his desires because they feared the firelord. Therefore, his stiff standards force both his children to compete against each other from a very young age. This is the worst form of emotional imperialism where the subjects simply want some validation in return and therefore they are ready to even forget their kinship. That’s what we find as Zuko repeatedly wants to “get his honor back and win the trust of his father”. What do you think this honor is? It’s not the quest for being the next heir to the throne, rather it’s being the absolute best in the eyes of the master who controls both the siblings. We know Ozai has a manipulative nature and this relates exactly to the manipulative attitude of a colonizer who puts the colonials against each other.

Zuko’s almost absent friend circle

Have you ever seen the modus operandi of the colonizers? They alienate their subjects so that the subjects find no way of self-expression and eventually give up to the demands of their masters. That’s exactly the scenario that propagates in Zuko’s life. Other than Mai and Ty Lee we don’t even find his friends throughout the series. Isn’t it a bit strange that despite being a prince, he has no guy friend of his age? He has no friends at all. It’s because the master (Ozai) wanted so. The siblings never get much exposure to the outside world. When we draw a comparison of Zuko’s situation, then Katara seems to be at an advantage in that she found a peer group that allowed her to grow further and overcome her insecurities. Zuko, however never got a chance to blend into an actual peer group and that kept him secluded throughout and gave him his introverted persona. Don’t you find it strange that as a friend Zuko got no one but his uncle who had a lot of age differences and the opinions differed too? This created a rift further maybe because Zuko felt that somehow his feelings were not interpreted well by Uncle Iroh. Compared to his “angry guy” persona, he grows a lot more friendly when he finds the gang or should we say people of his age. This allows him to understand his persona in a constructive way and he strives to alter the course of his life afterwards.

Identity crisis

Out of all the characters on ATLA, people often say that Zuko is the one with the most complex attributes because he is not even sure of his “destiny”. Sounds familiar? Eh? Well, this is the typical case of an identity crisis existing in the subjects of a colony. Zuko goes through this phase where he is always striving hard to explore his identity, and his destiny thus fueling his internal rage as well. A kaleidoscopic journey is what he follows. Sometimes it’s rage, sometimes regret and sometimes he even questions the actions of his father. By the end, his driving force to change his alliances is nothing but this very identity crisis. This makes me remember a very interesting observation that whenever he’s near the gang, he’s a bit cranky and at the same time uneasy because he looks at the gang as the polar opposite of himself. To a caged bird who has accepted his fate, even the slightest call of resistance feels like Hades’ call and that’s why he repeatedly aims to avoid Aang’s calls for forming a friendship because he is afraid of peeking into his resisting side. That’s the typical thing you find in Haru who despite being a fine earthbender resists waging a war against the firebenders who roam freely in his village at first. So would you blame Zuko for never resisting the colonization when as a subject it was inherent to his mentality for a long time?

A harsh realisation

People who degrade Zutara with this stupid claim that Katara was the only one who “lost everything” need to get their brains checked thoroughly because when we compare her loss to the magnitude of the loss faced by Zuko at the end of the war, the comparing scale diverts wildly in Zuko’s favor. Though many of you know this; I will recall it for you again. Katara lost her mother to the war but in the end, she got lifelong friends to cherish with her brother as well father. On the contrary, even during the war, we find that Zuko loses not only his mother, his father, and his sister in the worst possible way. It means all his family members are lost to him in every sense when the war ends. Now some of you will come to me with the argument that the gang eventually finds Ursa back but how? With her memories all erased. It means that the war has not just left him with permanent emotional wounds but it has further taken the very idea of a family from his life.

We zutarians never ship Zutara together because we “just find them good together” but it’s deeper than that. It’s because Zuko was the one who understood Katara’s quest for Yon Rha in order to find answers behind her mother’s death in addition to revenge. This is because deep down he was always looking for the answers of his mother’s (who was the only real person known to him) banishment. That’s exactly what we find after Zuko becomes the firelord. The first thing he does is asking Ozai questions and being certain that he’s finally gonna tell everything. We ship them together because Katara was the only person who understood the value of Zuko jumping in front of Azula’s lightning to save her. We ship them together because we believe if it had become a potential canon, maybe both of them could have helped each other in healing with their individual traumas and creating a real family together.

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sushisocks · 5 months

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since sean was the first to die(rip king😔), we never rly saw him deal w the death of the other members. how do you think a situation like that would go and who's death would impact him the most?

Oooh boy, what a great question!!

So, I do think Sean would feel obligated to keep things light, but we also KNOW that he’s the one that likes to remember people and talk about the ones he cared for. I can 100% see him being the main push for letting people feel grief in a safe manner; Sean would be the one sitting at the campfire telling funny and heartwarming stories about the dead person, and encouraging other people to open up and share stories too.

At the same time, I 100% see him being weighed down HEAVY by certain deaths in private. If he survived past Arthur’s death, for example, that would absolutely rock his world. Same with Lenny’s death; if not from a shipping perspective, simply because Lenny is the youngest gun, is smart, and a friend of Sean’s. I think that would put some things in perspective for him real quick, and internally he’d be having a REAL bad time. Thing is, Sean isn’t really one to show a whole lot of negativity, so I don’t think this would be apparent to anyone who didn’t know how to look for it.

Additionally, I do genuinely think both Kieran and Molly’s deaths would hit him HARD. I’ve talked with several friends now about how Sean, Molly, and Kieran do all three have a connection with Ireland, and probably did feel a faint sense of kinship over it. Molly feeling unsafe and more alone after both Sean and Kieran dying right after one another makes a world of sense, even if she wasn’t really close to either of them, simply because of what they represent to one another. I can imagine her death hitting Sean in a similar way, and Kieran’s death would also absolutely sour certain things for him – ESPECIALLY since if you get all their possible interactions over the course of Horseshoe & Clemens Point, the two DO actually develop a repertoire between one another.

Hosea’s death is a rough one, I think. Sean and Hosea’s relationship is of great interest to me, because there’s a LOT of conflict there, and Hosea is definitely among the– Less kind gang members, to Sean. Still though, Sean does clearly have some regard for Hosea as a wiser older man, as shown by him actually asking Hosea about their situation, clearly seeking advice and/or comfort regarding it. In large part I think Hosea’s death would be somewhat overshadowed by Lenny’s, to Sean at least, but there would very much be a sense of… Indignation, maybe? The context of this being one of the founding members of the gang, Dutch’s partner in crime, this voice of authority, now dead for what?

Sean, at his core, is a people person. There’s no way any of the deaths wouldn’t leave an impression.

One thing I can then see happening is… A sort of disillusionment for Sean, when it comes to Dutch & the gang? Imagine all these rapid rate deaths of people you care about, and when you look to your leader he doesn’t really… Do or say anything? About it??

I think, similarly to my reasoning as to why I think Sean would’ve sided with Arthur in the end had he gotten that far, Sean isn’t as fully sold on every aspect of Dutch’s talk nor as fully invested as Arthur and John are (with their specific daddy issues lmfao). That WOULD allow Sean to grow more critical, and as more people die, I can imagine us actually getting to see Sean possibly become more– Well, for a lack of a better word, more Arthur-like. “He’s just a younger version of you” and all that, here’s Sean at around the same age Arthur was when he lost Eliza and Isaac, watching people that matter to him die through a failure of leadership, if you will. It makes sense to me that Sean would start harboring a similar sense of anger, that would probably start grounding him a bit more.

This is all obviously assuming that Sean survives and everything happens the exact same way, which, as I’ve talked about before, I think is extremely unlikely! But it’s an interesting thought experiment for sure!!

Thank you so much for this question!! I enjoyed writing this a lot, and Sean’s potential journey in the story when surviving his scripted death has always been a point of deep fascination to me, so I LOVE getting to think abt stuff like this!!!

#i took a REALLY analytical approach to this question bcz otherwise i'd have started sobbing lmfao #id just be crying all over ur dash. wailing. im fine though its okay lmaoo #teki talks #sean macguire #rdr2 sean #sean rdr2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr thoughts #asks #rdr asks #meta asks

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bonnielunkas · 1 year

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I know this took awhile, I haven’t really had much time to send this - also I took very long writing these because, well, I think my username is enough of an explanation. But here it finally is:

Fazbear Frights Characters Autism Diagnosis:

Samantha (Coming Home)

- I absolutely refuse to believe this child is neurotypical.

- She has a very specific bedtime routine that she needs to do every night:

- Write at least a paragraph in her diary

- Brush her teeth

- Go to to the toilet

- Drink half a glass of water

- Touch her toes four times

- Brush her hair fifty times

- Say goodnight to her dolls

- Samantha is picked on by her peers because they think she’s weird. A lot of autistic people have been bullied and/or socially isolated for not "fitting in".

- She is described as "hard to read", and conveying feelings can be difficult for autistic people.

- When she visited two psychologists, she begged her mother not to take her back there because both of them expected her to play with a messy pile of toys. To me, this seems like she has sensory issues about messes and messy environments, finding them overstimulating.

Alec (Lonely Freddy)

- Clearly shown to have trouble with social cues and social situations in general (example: When his kindergarten teacher said he was a bully, probably because he couldn’t tell from her tone that she meant it in a negative way and he didn’t know what the word meant, so he smiled, thinking it was praise).

- This line, which has no neurotypical explanation: ""If they’d asked, he might have said, ""I’m not like you, and I’m not like Hazel, and that should be okay.""

- From my understanding, behaviour issues in neurodivergent children can actually just be that they’re overwhelmed and/or overstimulated, but have troubling communicating that. So, basically Alec (or at least my interpretation of his character).

Greg (Fetch)

- He has multiple fixations that can come off as hyper-fixations and special interests:

- The compulsion he has to search the abandoned pizzeria for no specific reason (which doesn’t fade even after Fetch kills the neighbours dog. He still feels as if he needs to go there.), hyper-fixation.

- His enthusiasm about topics like the Zero Point Field and Cleve Baxter’s experiments, special interest.

- It’s not mentioned it the story as much as the others, but plants could be a special interest.

- A minor detail, but, Greg is described as not being "adventurous with certain foods", and this leads me to think he might have sensory issues with food - mainly because choice of words fits my experience with food related sensory issues.

- Personally, I believe that most kids who aren’t accepted by their peers because they don’t confirm to social norms tend to actually be neurodivergent (like Greg).

Sergio (Sergio’s Lucky Day)

- A major part of Sergio’s character is his trouble understanding social cues. Because of this, he tends to mask his emotions in order to please people (example: pretending to have the same likes and dislikes as Violet) and avoid being judged, which is basically the universal experience for neurodivergent people everywhere.

- Neurodivergent people can have intense attachment to objects. They can empathise with these objects and are very connected to them. This reminds me of how Sergio becomes very attached to Lucky Boy to the point of considering him a friend - I mean, Lucky Boy is implied to be sentient but I still think this counts.

Dirk (Felix the Shark)

- Another example of object attachment and connection: as a child, he felt a kinship with the animatronic because they were both misunderstood outcasts. He continues to view Felix this way as he grows up, to the point where he gets angry when someone tells him they found Felix creepy as a kid.

- Fixation is one most important themes in the story and it’s almost always shown with Dirk, who has a lot of fixations that seem close to ND fixations: Felix and finding the Freddy’s location that had him, puzzles, mysteries and a novel called The Dogged Dogmatist.

- He’s a Freddy’s fan, so he’s automatically autistic /j

nah it's fine that this took a while!! i understand :]

anyways, i'm just gonna take these all as canon now bc you got a lot of points,,,

how dare you cook /j

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wyverian-lady525 · 1 year

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THE ONESHOT FROM MY REQUEST WAS LITERALLY SJJDJHWSBAMAMD😭💞💞 THANK YOUU, YOU DID SUCH A WONDERFUL JOB TOO, THE ACCURACY OF THEIR CHARACTERS IS SO MWAH MWAH~!! I'm not even kidding when I say that I needed a ten minute water break to have a crisis when I saw the notification, requests actually being accepted really do be hitting differently to be honest

Buuut after reading it for the millionth time, finally gotten my damn courage back to both thank you for the lovely written story =) thooo... If you're maaybe open for doing a version for Sasuke Cheval as well👉🏻👈🏻 I mean, I won't say no( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Do definitely believe the scenario should be changed up a little though, as I'm pretty sure if he was in Hyoro’s place on that exact moment he'd legit just be like “oh no! Anyways, anyone want some kebab on a horn?” His current emo ass being so rude it ain't even funny😭

BUT, (un)lucky for you. I have about another hundred good ol' ideas in stock👍🏻 (Shh, it's ok to block me). So maybe instead of when they were trying to slaughter Ratha, it could take place right before Versa Pietru was about to be controlled by the Black Blight?

Once again, the reader is hella worried about Cheval and the last pinch of sanity left in him, they try convincing him but surprise surprise, he's too far gone bla blabla😒 they try getting him down to properly talk to him by force, but because of the pure rage he felt he willingly commands Versa Pietru to attack them causing fatal damage (Don't you just hate it when a Titanic sized dragon bites down on you like a chewtoy). Though considering when Rathi endured that hit for him, his mind finally became stable enough to understand that whatever he was doing was absolute bullshi- OKAYOKAY SORRY I'LL STOP NOW. Though now he'd also start to properly realise that he put the reader's actual life at major risk...

Ooo nice idea! Don't worry, you're no bother!😁 I love this, and I hope you enjoy! I know I always love when a request is fulfilled! Apologies too if this isn’t what you had in mind...I’ve been forgetting certain parts of the show

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The Dread Before the Dawn

You try to get through to Cheval one last time before the darkness swallows him up forever. It doesn’t end as well as you thought.

“What would your mother say?” You shouted at your friend, who’s been consumed by hatred and rage.

Right now, you and your monstie were on top of Mt. Celion facing Cheval and the White Dragon. You didn’t understand how Versa Pietru could forge a bond with him after how much of an embodiment of strife he’s become. Your other companions were still struggling to catch up, so right now, it was just you and him.

“Don’t talk about my mother!” He yelled at you, an angsty purple glow coming from that kinship stone he had. The White Dragon hissed as well, causing your monstie to growl in retaliation.

“Can’t you see what you’re doing is wrong! Forcing that monster into this!” You pointed an accusing finger at the White Dragon, feeling a mix of rage and sadness when it came to this situation. You wanted to reason with the last pinch of sanity in Cheval, but you were worried he was too far gone.

“You wouldn’t understand! You never even tried! I’ve lost everything...this is my chance to take it all back!” He shouted at you, pure rage in his voice. You could clearly see now that all reason was thrown out the window. His heart has been consumed by revenge.

However, you still wanted to do everything in your power to save him.

“But that’s not how it works! This isn’t the way!” You shouted back at him, and he simply glared.

“It’s the only way I know that’s left...now get out of my way.” Cheval growled lowly, Versa Pietru flapped its wings aggressively and took to the air, glowering down at you and your monstie. You narrowed your eyes at him, heart beating rapidly.

“If you won’t listen to me...then I have no choice, Cheval.” You said while mounting your monstie, who snarled. You didn’t want it to come down to force, but it seems the boy you once knew was officially gone.

And there’s no changing that, but you made a mental promise to his mother to bring him home, no matter what.

You had your monstie charge at him, baring its fangs. You just had to get him off that monster, bring him down to your level. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes when you saw the actual hatred in Cheval’s once familiar and calming eyes.

However, his pure rage made him do something that you didn’t see coming, although you should have.

He willingly commanded Versa Pietru to attack you. Because of this so-called bond that they had formed, the White Dragon obeyed his command. The strength and might of this elder dragon of exotic origin caught your monstie off guard. In truth, your monstie was no match.

The little bit of success that you had in your mind faded in a blur of white.

You felt the titan jaws of Versa Pietru bite on your shoulder. The saddle of your monstie soon vanished beneath you as you were now high above the ground. However, you could hardly comprehend that due to the high stench of blood and intense pain.

Your body was soon flung into a crumbling relic not too far away, cushioned by the velvety snow.

That was soon stained by blood.

“I told you to stay out of my way...” You faintly heard as your monstie rushed to your side. However, you soon heard your heartbeat in your ears as the organ worked desperately to keep you alive. Your monstie curled around you, trying to warm you as much as possible.

The rest of what happened was a blur to you.

Your friends and allies showed up to face Cheval, who still seems to haven’t cared about nearly ending your life. Again, there was another showdown to try and reason with him that didn’t work. That seemed to be the last straw with Cheval’s false kinship.

The White Dragon turned into the Black Dread.

As much as Cheval pleaded that he felt a bond, that his path was the right one, the now tainted elder dragon didn’t seem to care. An attack blew off his kinship stone, and Cheval went flying towards the cliff’s edge. And as your vision began to grow bleary and fade, you witnessed a flash a green shield Cheval from another devastating blow.

His screams were all you heard as you finally passed out...

When Cheval came to, he realized that his beloved rathian had come to save him. It was like a veil had finally lifted from his clouded vision. The darkness of his heart had been pushed away by the light of his monstie, and his beloved friends who tried to help him to begin with.

“Rathi...I’m sorry...” He said while moving to place a hand on the rathian’s snout, worried that she had taken her last breath in her efforts to save him. However, just as tears pricked the corners of his eyes, he heard a low growl.

Rathi’s yellow pained eyes were looking up at him.

“Oh Rathi...I’m so sorry...” Cheval said again, fully crying this time as he noticed the chipped spikes on her right wing. He bent down to give her a makeshift hug, grateful that despite it all, she came back to save him.

And then it hit him that she wasn’t the only one.

“Y/N...Y/N!” Cheval shouted out your name, sounding distraught. He knew you couldn’t hear him, not from where he was. It all came to him that he put your life in so much risk. The life of someone who meant so much to him, that only wanted to help him.

By the time Lilia found him, he was a puddle of tears and despair.

Cheval wanted to find you and apologize immediately, even knowing it wouldn’t make up fro what happened. However, he has finally come to his senses, and realized the danger you were in.

That was his fault.

“Y/N...please be alive...I’m so sorry...” He muttered to himself as Rathi nudged him a bit. The real Cheval had finally returned. The gentle and caring boy that you had come to know and love was finally brought back to you.

Will you live to see him again?

That’s up for you to decide.

#monster hunter stories #monster hunter stories 2 #mhst #mhst2 #cheval #monster hunter stories cheval #cheval x reader #mhst2 cheval

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roobylavender · 2 years

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those posts that talk about how dick did x or y to help rehabilitate Jason are so funny to me bc like only bat canon dick would do that. as in the dick who was brought closer to emulating bruce to the point he has no identity anymore. I don’t think he would entertain Jason for a second once he knew what he was doing. He would sympathize with the Jason who died but he would refuse to treat the Jason who came back as a child given his kill count.

Why would you leave that in the tags! Your brain is fascinating! Please tell me more!

mostly it is a consequence of developing a bad rep among a certain batch of dick fans on my old account bc if i were to say that a lot of the toxic behaviors bruce has come to express in the past twenty years or so (aside from the physical abuse obv that should never be attributed to either of them in any situation) were actually more emblematic of dick originally then i would probably be mauled by the equivalent of internet bears. but unfortunately this is my truth

this is something i said on twt the other day but the reason to me that dick falls out with people like bruce or kory or donna is bc he puts them up on a pedestal. his attachment to them is a segue to reverence and admiration that is sort of the equivalent to him standing inside a glass house that can be shattered at literally any moment bc his expectations for the people in his life are honestly a bit ludicrous given the work they do and the environment they operate within. not to say that he's wrong when he gets angry with people like he has reasons to be skeptical of bruce's wish-washy morality at times or of kory's inclination to jump the gun or of donna's inability to prioritize efficiently. but the way he reacts is still volatile and caustic and esp after observing the way he reacted to kory's arranged marriage debacle i think it's absolutely a consequence of people failing to live up to the expectations that he has of them. he's so set in his morality and the way he defines his work bc of how it's literally all he has that it bleeds into every interaction and relationship. if he doesn't have the heroes in his life then he has nothing. if he can't rely on anyone that he expects to rely on then he has nothing. it's why i think he's so entrenched in the idea of teamwork and partnership. reciprocated trust and faith mean something to him and are as good as bonds born in blood and if you test those bonds or the rites behind them then it's like, you're testing your faith in him and everything he believes you're supposed to stand for together. and he takes that very personally

with jason what is interesting to me is that like. obv dick did not know him very well. i know the last laugh or whatever retconned it to where they used to go on vacations together but i personally ignore that bc i think it's a narrative cop out and i'm not particularly bothered by the fact that dick and jason weren't close. dick had no obligation to sub-parent someone who was ultimately bruce's responsibility, esp since dick was long gone from the coop before jason ever entered it. but in spite of that lack of physical connection there was nonetheless a symbolic one bc they were two people wearing the same colors, pursuing the same ideal, operating under the same rites of passage. which i think is what makes dick's reaction to jason's death make so much sense and his reaction to jason's resurrection and subsequent mission make so little sense. ofc dick would feel a deep kinship with the robin who died considering he was once in that position himself. ofc he would be baffled and angered by how bruce subsequently receded into himself and refused to open up to anyone and began making a martyr out of jason rather than trying harder to remember him as the son whom he adored and loved. it's about the principle bc for dick the principle is what defines the love. love is a contract and a promise and a partnership and there are things entailed by that that dick explicitly sees bruce fail to deliver on. so ofc he's angry on jason's behalf for however little he knew him

but that's not to say that the symbolic love dick has for jason remains unchanged when jason comes back. the principle of it remains and is subject to test. the shared sense of identity and ideals remains. but for however much dick would sympathize with the deceased jason for not being honored properly as bruce's son and partner i can't imagine him extending that same sympathy to the jason who goes on a self-righteous killing spree in the name of justice. it's a direct violation of the principle that he likely believed jason upheld when he was once living. it goes against everything dick would have stood for when he was fighting bruce on jason's behalf. obv jason was a child and dick would defend him to bruce bc of that too, but once again, ultimately, dick is someone utterly entrenched in heroism and using it to define his relationships and his life to the point that he cannot withstand the expectations of that heroism being broken. so i don't think dick would look at jason as the red hood and be the one to extend a helping hand. i don't think he would try to say that with his help jason can start over and be rehabilitated and blah blah blah. that is 100% bruce's line of thinking and has been since his character started actually being defined in the 70s. dick would be the guy looking at jason with utter disappointment and regret and bitterness bc he spent years defending jason in every which way only for jason to come back and spit on every symbolic thing that might have connected them to each other in another life. he would be the guy tasking himself with bringing jason down (non-lethally obv, bc he's still even more of a control freak about that than bruce is) while bruce was probably having breakdowns somewhere in the cave bc comparatively his way of coping with things devastating to him is to shut down, while dick's way of coping is to take charge and act

#and like! i know i say often that jason is still barely an adult and mostly a child when he makes his grand debut as the red hood #but that's speaking objectively #dick is highly subjective (an amusing irony). look at the standards that /he/ had for himself at eighteen #he's not going to let age or trauma be used as an excuse for what jason is doing. that's something bruce would do #people ask why bruce falls in love with questionable women or keeps giving certain villains a chance and it's like. he's an idealist #i don't think dick is a cynic in comparison. but he's not as deluded. he'll judge you for making bad choices #bc it's what he's used to doing with himself in order to temper himself as a hero and as a leader #outbox

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brooklynislandgirl · 1 year

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Bottled a few years before Beth breathed into existence, the Chave Hermitage Blanc is a tiny ocean of golden hues, waves cresting and breaking time with each swirl of Lawrence’s glass. Barely a competition against the constellation of Manhattan at night, halogen lights twinkling through the panes of his own corporate monolith. A machine he only visits on occasion these, and tinkers with even less, letting the churn of worker bees buzz under Mary’s guidance and leaving him free for more interesting pursuits. It is, still, suitable enough for this specific parley.

“As I’m sure you are aware by now, many of those with power and affluence seek the obscene and the taboo to evoke any sense of excitement.” He takes note of the wine’s bouquet without tasting it. “I’m aware of one who spends a large chunk of his inheritance bribing women to allow him to be the one to ‘deflower’ her – his prosaic term, not mine. Not that I am suggesting you make his acquaintance, Beth. You need neither the money nor the tedium involved.”

Lawrence lounges upon an over-stuffed seat, one ankle to knee, the black of his suit only a handful of shades darker than the leather beneath. “I mention him because he puts great value on the concept of virginity. The motif of the value of virgin blood is hardly new, and yet, I am curious as to if there is any true merit to it. Some say virginity is a construct.” The flash of white teeth might be paired with a joke, if coming from any other man. “So, I come to the expert for the truth, before I start locking the young and innocent away to keep a ready supply on hand.”

~*~

A Will and a Way || -

She really wishes she could say his taste in wine is trash, but to do so would make a liar out of her, and he'd call her on the carpet for it. Her curiosity at his casual invitation unto his kingdom is enough for her to venture out once the sun has set much to the annoyance of her sibling for not telling him anything more than she's taking the car into the city and not to wait up for her. Now she's perched a hip against the edge of his desk, watching not his face but rather the motion of his wrist, the angle at which he holds the glass, and breathes in its aroma from her own glass. She has no fear that he will have any cause to poison her, not when all the things he wants most are so readily available to his reach in and with her. Even if he was feeling those particular oats, her body would filter out any potentially lethal toxicity from her blood, and she has a bezoar in her grove, along with enough amethyst to flood 5th Avenue. He'd be better off making good on his once-threat of throttling her, or expunging his innate rage by laying hands on her. He won't. Not when she can see the question burning in the coldfire of his gaze.

His preamble draws a look of sheer disgust from the delicacy of her features and she sets the glass down beside her, equally untouched. In the world he speaks of, many of her sisters and aunties, her countless mothers and daughters, even cousins ~both in the dream of shared Kinship and stranger alike~ find themselves in a place of no power. It was not always like this but the rise of Reason was also the turning away from equality; in a rush to fill the vacuum people like the one he tells her about rose from the mud and the dark and beat fists upon their chests. And then turned that violence on the life-givers, the wise-women. It makes her sick but she doesn't blame the women who must be so desperate to need the unknown stranger's money, attention, or whatever else he provides for their validation and continuing survival. She needs to know the man's name, though she can likely suss it out on her own with a little determination. A pack of her more militant female cousins would see it as a gesture of good will between Tribe and Tradition. She also makes absolutely certain that her face doesn't betray a single lick of dark humour.

She honestly cannot imagine Lawrence....deflowering any one. She inclines her head at his surprising gentility regarding what she may or may not need, and for once she lets it go without biting instinctively back, asking if he's got plans for what she may or may not have. Which she does, even now. Ah, and there it is. His gaze still burns, but his is the light of Diogenes. For the sake of clarity she sets aside her natural speech patterns, reaching rather for his or some reasonable facsimile. "Blood has always been a sacred thing, a liminal matter. It could empower or pollute, restore health or waste corporeal and spiritual existence. It was the Divine Mystery in the mortal creation. For a very long time, those of us who were Awakened, understood this bond and this responsibility. Even before my Tradition took it on as a formal responsibility, we traced the progeny of our forebearers, for in blood there was always power."

Her eyes see beyond him and beyond his glass, something deeply bitter that goes hand in hand with her magicksplaining. "A splinter group broke off and formed...the Hippocratic Circle and they were largely the ones who ruined it for the rest of us. Through them the world came to see that male blood and bleeding was a public experience, connected to heroism, lineage in familial relationships, and to sacrificial practices, while female bleeding is a private matter and that women's blood while connected with parturition and life, should be feared for its polluting qualities. "But that wasn't your question. Your question is specifically about virgins. And the only answer I have for you is...I don't know. Depends on what you or I or anyone else deeply believes. It isn't lip-service level, either. It comes down to what you know in your soul. I use my own blood in rituals, of course. And others, when the need arises. My Tradition knows and uses blood the most, be it animal or human. Some people believe virginity conveys purity, virtuousness. A sort of appeal to the Unseen forces in any mysticism. They might value it more highly than perhaps I would."

She pushes herself off the edge of the desk and pads barefoot toward him. She rakes him from head to toe with a particular sort of gaze; part feral and part threat, part oddly affectionate. Then, she smiles and only the darker aspects of her nature remain. "If you ever require virgin blood for any reason, just ask for it. A lot safer an’ easier for everyone really.” She then hunkers down into a vague sort of squat, until she can look up into his face. It is a look too keenly like her Cousins to be comfortable. “Now, Larry, be a dear and tell me more about this...ah...friend....of yours.”

#submission #Mahalo!MM <333 #Every Spell and Gesture|Larry and Beth #The Chronicles of the Black Labyrinth #Ritual Magick|Mage the Ascension #blood tw #magick tw #virginity tw

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ihatebnha · 2 years

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i hope this is okay to send hefjkd but ur post about toji and specifically how certain characters feel more comforting because of their circumstances is so so real lol.

the fic im writing right now is focused a lot on the difference between class and how most like.. working class people feel that sense of kinship in a way you can't with other people. toji is so often dismissed as just a horny character when really he is a disenfranchised character who has a lot very human qualities to him that are deeply comforting imo.

you mentioned dabi and yeah just like. as someone who also grew up poor i know exactly what you mean. that baseline struggle to survive really has an effect on your character and it sucks when certain characters who embody that sort of normalcy and struggle are written off in a specific way. as just one thing bc of that.

it takes away some of their depth. tojis story, dabi's story, hell even dekus story are all crux on how being in the outsksirts of society effect your character and toji is no exception to that.

idk if this made any sense but what you said REALLLY resonated with me. if this isn't something u wanna get into feel free to answer privately or delete but i just wanted to let u know it was a take that made complete sense!!

ARI! ofc its okay to respond, i'm a little tired rn so im absolutely gonna butcher this response (lord knows i'd be here for a 1000 years if attempted something proper) but. i admire ur character analyzations berry much so i'm quite tuched that ur responding to my thoughts AT ALL!!!

and i'm glad u understand, too, because i get really scared about posting stuff regarding these kinds of topic bc i feel like getting any kind of pushback or hate abt them would just DESTROYYY me lmfao🥶🥶🥶...

but absolutely to ALL OF THIS. one thing im sorta always finding myself upset with is how... disenfranchisement specifically (and suffering in general) is often shown to be something very........ rare/unique/separate/OTHERING, when in reality it actually has quite a broad spectrum of effects that more people can find themselves relating to than not... SO I JUST WONDER why, at the same time, that is then so easily forgotten/dismissed.

again, just goes back to sorta the basic point of thematic narratives being misunderstood, and more broadly, specific characterizations going IGNORED... but it hurts when i do think, as u talk about w/ ur fic (which i YAM EXCITED FOR BTW), there's a real reason to and an effect when you bring them up in your content.

idk. its weird. and emotionally draining to think abt when u consider it all in such specific ways sometimes too fdjaskdfnjaksd BUT ANYWAY.

#i am answering this publicly but only bc i lose access to things when answering privately and i just wanna treasure this forever LOOOOL #but please let me know if u want this hidden once youve seen it #bc i will happily #but also i am kissing u on ur mouf ari love u and this #do people really not... find themselves invested in the backstories of characters when it comes to writing about them?#like as u say with dabi and toji and deku #i wonder #because thats part of them for me #IDK AND IM TIRED NOW BUT YES and thank u again #ask #caitie chats #ari❤️#prettyboykatsuki #fave

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minty-playhouse · 1 year

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hello! it's your secret santa here :) may i say i love your recent roger daltrey art!!!!! (he is my fav in the who and also like my husband <333) so who is your favorite in the who & why? which of their albums is your favorite? annnd what is your fav solo album out of all of their solo work?

Hello secret santa, sorry for taking forever to reply!

First things first, I wanna tahnk you for liking my recent WIPs, I hope I can finish them soon!

Now, I wanna welcome everyone to my Who ted talk because I wanna talk about all these questions in lenght!

My all time favorite is Keith Moon, my rotten soldier, my good time boy, my sweet cheese... He has always been my favorite ever since I first started listening to The Who when I was 19, and recently my love for him has just gotten stronger. I'm not going to sit here and go "he's just like me for real" because tht's no true at all, but sometimes I read some of the stuff he said in interviews and unearth certain facts about him that make me feel that some of the things I feel and think align with his, and it makes me feel some sort of weird kinship I don't feel with any other musician I'm a fan of. I dunno how pretentious it is that I just said that, but it's the truth.

Sure I like him also due to more surface level reasons, because I'm only human lol I think he's adorable (like damn, wish i looked like 60's Keith every day of my life), his drumming skills are to die for and he's my biggest inspiration when it comes to "you wanna do something? do it!" Like I wish I had even a sliver of his confidence when it comes to just doing whatever you want (I've been getting better at that though, but in a non self-destructive way lol)

My favorite album has to be Sell Out. I absolutely love everything about it. The heavy pop art theming, the songs, the radio-like structure of the album... Absolutely everything about Sell Out is perfect to me and I wouldn't change a single thing. I'm always listening to it back to back and it never fails to bring a smile to my face <3 Also I'm a slut for psychedelic stuff and Sell Out is the closest The Who got to it so I cling to that as if my life depended on it!

My close second favorite is Who Are You followed closely by A Quick One. Don't get me wrong, I adore Who's Next but I feel it's a bit overrated /hot take

And, oh boy, favorite solo album out of ALL of them? That's an impossibly hard question because I like everyone's solo works so much (yes, Keith's shitpost album included) because all of them bring something different that I love! I love Roger's more pop-sounding stuff, I love Pete's deep, meaningful songs, I love John's xtra "problematic" tunes.

I think I'm just gonna pick a favorite for each and call it a day! My favorite Roger solo album is Ride a Rock Horse (the reasons are obvious to my followers but shhh, we are not talking about that now), my favorite Pete album is All The Best Cowboys Have Chinese Eyes (honestly, the whole album is just full of bangers) and my favorite John album is Whistle Rymes (it's so absolutely unhinged, every track is a treasure).

#minty talks about the who for an extended period of time #those thoughts about Keith have been on my mind for a while by the way #minty answers asks #secret rock santa!#srs22

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 2 years

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Confession:

kind of bitter with the whump community sometimes because. with my extensive trauma, if my life were a fiction I absolutely could/would be considered a whumpee, and people hate me for it. People don't like how I can't talk about my past bc apparently 'I don't care about them if I don't tell them', but if I ever bring up even the vaguest bits of my past - even just saying "I have trauma" is too much for them and makes people uncomfortable, avoid me, or accuse me of trying to use them as a therapist (when I didn't want to bring it up to begin with)

it just feels so unfair to me that people will love these characters so much for the same reasons that people get deemed inherently unlovable for irl. I'm never going to live a normal life, I may never have lasting relationships or someone who loves me, and I'll probably never live a day where I'm not afraid. I may never have a real 'place' in this world Because of what other, horrible, people did to me. For things that I didn't choose and were out of my control. And I'm outcast for it.

now, I don't have anything against whump in general. I read & write it myself (namely the stuff with comfort at the end, but still). I feel a big kinship with the characters, and usually it soothes my heart seeing that someone like me could still be cared for. could still be considered worthy of love despite their experiences. while their victimhood is the proof that evil exists in the world, something which people Hate knowing, and that they've committed the great sin of not dying from it.

but sometimes I get bitter, maybe in a jealous kind of way? or maybe just salty because I know that so many people who love these characters would hate them if they were real. & this feels like a stupid thing to say, but it's not fair

I’m very sorry you feel this way, anon. Though I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure what to say as I can’t speak for the rest of the Whump community - this is primarily because from what I have seen (though my exposure is limited) the Whump community is one of the nicest communities on tumblr.

That being said, I agree with the notion that whump tropes in real life are undesirable - as I am someone who has experienced being socially outcast due to my own issues. Though, I find that a lot of the Whump community are comprised of people with their own traumas and I think that Whump is a cathartic way for them to work through it with fictional characters. I’m not trying to excuse the behaviour that you have experienced, but it may shes a light on why people act the way they do.

But I agree, nonetheless. To a degree I think that people would dislike some fictional characters if they were real, as the emotional and physical toll of looking after them would sink in - when they’re fictional you don’t have to do anything for them: the whumpee is trapped behind a screen and you can choose if you want to ‘deal’ or ‘Interact’ with them whenever you want.

To a point, I think that sometimes people forget that the ailments they write about are real - hell, I even do it. But it takes a certain level of maturity to be able to distinguish your whumpee from a living breathing person that needs more compassion than a text post or a fix it fic. You’re right, it’s not fair that a factional character can get a deeper level of understanding than a real person.

Remember anon, you will always be worthy of love and care.

I hope this is coherent and anyone feel free to add to this discussion in the reblogs/replies.

#discourse #discussion #whump community #not a prompt

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 3 years

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so i am back on the grima train and i was reading through your posts (absolutely quality, for which i can only thank you !! 💓) and you mentioned in one about his use of magic that you have a Lot of Feelings about grima in relation to gender and plz i need to hear them!! (if you want to share? 👀)

LOTR: Grima & Gender

Oh man, so Grima and gender. My favourite topic. Other than Grima and magic - but they’re linked! So, that’s a bonus for us.

I want to thank you so much for asking this question. I have wanted to rant about this for Forever.

This became incredibly long, but the long and short of it is that Grima undermines social expectations of masculinity in Rohan through his disdain for martial achievements, his occupying a more private/passive role within the king’s household rather than the expected “masculine” public/active, his use of spells and potions being an “unmanly” and “cowardly” approach to problem solving, and his reliance on language and soft-power approaches to politics.

All of this works to position Grima within a more feminine role and character - at least within the context of Rohan’s hypermasculine performativity of manliness.

[It does allow us to read Grima as trans with greater ease in terms of fitting into the canon than the usual favourites, other than Eowyn. So, you know, do with that what you will. Eowyn and Grima both want to be queen. Let them be in charge! I’m going to get my ass bit for this.]

Grima’s gender performance needs to be quickly situated within the broader context of masculinity in Middle-Earth. Gondor’s ideal of masculinity is the gentler masculinity that everyone focuses on when they talk about men in middle earth being good models of what masculinity can look like. It’s a nurturing masculinity, it’s gentle, it’s healing-focused. Aragorn and others try and take the first off-ramp from violence or conflict whenever they can. There is no enjoyment in warfare or soldiering. It’s done because it’s necessary. Dick-swinging is limited to non-existent etc.

Rohan is different.

Faramir touches on this when he speaks to Frodo of how Boromir was more like the men of Rohan and how he thought that wasn’t a good thing as it meant he was seeking glory for glory’s sake, relishing war and soldiering as an occupation rather than an unfortunate necessity.

Of course, Faramir was also making (some very dubious) racial commentary, but race and gender are often bound up together (e.g. hyper-masculinization of black men and the feminization of East Asian men in the North America).

As R.W. Connell says, “masculinities are congurations of practice that are constructed, unfold, and change through time” — and, additionally, masculinity must be defined in opposition to femininity but, also, other masculinities.

For Rohan, there is a strong, militarized hyper-masculinity that threads through their culture. One of the reasons Theoden was seen as a failing king was his physical decline and inability to continue being a physically strong king. His aging emasculated him, more so when compared to Theodred and Eomer. (Something Theoden believed of himself and Grima capitalized on.)

For this, I’m going to speak of masculinity of the upper classes, since that’s what we see for Rohan. Masculinity, and how it’s to be performed, is contingent on social variables such as, but not limited to: age, appearance and size, bodily facility, care, economic class, ethnicity, fatherhood, relations to biological reproduction, leisure, martial and kinship status, occupation, sexuality etc. and as we never see lower class Rohirrim men it’s impossible to say what the “acceptable” and “expected” forms for a farmer or cooper would be.

Upper class men of Rohan are expected to be militarily capable - ready to ride and fight when called by their king or marshal. They are to be men of action over word, and when language is in play, it’s to be forthright and plain. No riddling. Marriage/Husband-ing is an expected part of manhood. Being strong minded, and capable of taking charge and making decisions is important. Fatherhood is also clearly prized, especially fatherhood that results in son(s).

(Theoden only having one child could be read as another “failure” in living up to Rohirrim ideals when compared to the older kings of his family who were far more prolific.)

The appearance of an “ideal” man is tall, fair, and handsome. Physically strong and capable in all ways (martially, sexually, fertile etc.).

Men should be able to demonstrate that they are capable of being in charge, taking control, defending and protecting families and homes. This slots in with more generalized expectations around bravery, honour and glory.

[Eomer: And that, in summation, is how you are to Be A Man.

Grima: Well that sounds utterly exhausting.]

So, with all of that in mind, let’s talk Grima.

First, let’s address the name and character construction as this is the least bound up in how he acts and its tension with Rohirrim ideals of Being a Man. It’s also interesting in that it can give a glimpse into Tolkien and the possible thoughts he had when constructing Grima.

Grima’s Name & Beowulf Stuff

Grima’s name is from old Icelandic Grimr, which is a name Odin takes during the Grimnismal saga.

Here are some lines from Odin in the saga:

I have called myself Grim,

I have called myself Wanderer,

Warrior and Helmet-Wearer,

[...]

Evildoer, Spellcaster,

Masked and Shadowed-Face,

Fool and Wise Man,

[...]

Rope-Rider and Hanged-God.

I have never been known

by just one name

since I first walked among men.

Not only is Grima’s name from Odin, more importantly, it’s the feminine version of that name. No man in the eddas or sagas goes by Grima. Only women. And most often they were seidr-workers or healers/magic practitioners of some kind.

"Other healers include Gríma from Fóstbræðra saga and Laxdæla saga and Heiðr from Biarmiland in Harald’s saga Hárfagra."

- “Hostile Magic in the Icelandic Sagas,” Hilda Ellis-Davidson

And

"There was a man called Kotkel, who had only recently arrived in Iceland. His wife was called Grima. Their sons were Hallbjorn Sleekstone-Eye and Stigandi. These people had come from the Hebrides. They were all extremely skilled in witchcraft and were great sorcerers."

- Laxdæla saga

This is most likely something Tolkien was aware of — I would be flabbergasted if he wasn’t. However, did he fully appreciate the implications in terms of gender and subversion of masculinity? Impossible to say, of course, but he certainly knew he was giving his male character a name that has only been used by women in historical texts.

It would be akin to naming your male character Henrietta instead of Henry. It’s a deliberate, explicit decision. And while I don’t think Tolkien expected most readers to track down the origin of Grima’s name, the --a ending, to most anglophone readers, signifies a feminine name, more often than not. At least, it rarely, if ever, signifies masculine.

So the name alone brings in, at a subconscious level to readers, feminine qualities.

Alongside this, Grima is loosely based on Unferth from Beowulf. The entrance of Gandalf et al into Meduseld directly mirrors Beowulf’s into Hrothgar’s hall (complete with Grima lounging at Theoden’s feet the same as Unferth at Hrothgar’s). Indeed, it was clearly Tolkien’s intention to make a call back to Beowulf with that scene. (He was being all “look how clever I am. Also these are Anglo-Saxons on horses. As a general fyi”).

Unferth is a fascinating character in his own right ,and there is much scholarly debate around his role within Hrothgar’s hall, as well as the text more broadly. While there isn’t enough time/space to get into Unferth, I will quickly note that he is another character who subverts his society’s ideas of manhood and masculinity — particularly with regards to expectations of heroism and bravery. Yet, at the same time, Unferth is noted for being very intelligent, cunning, good at riddling, and overall quick witted (also, a kin-slayer. Dude murdered his brothers for Reasons).

Unferth’s contrary behaviour that flies in the face of Anglo-Saxon norms and ideals of masculine bravery is clearly reflected in Grima. Particularly in Grima’s fear of battle and lack of interest in taking up his sword when called by his king.

This leaves us with a character who was given a woman’s name and who is loosely based on another character who is known for his inability to follow through on his society’s expectations for masculine behaviour.

Grima, from the first moment we meet him, clearly reads more feminine than masculine - this is amplified when he’s contrasted with the likes of Theoden and Eomer. And, not only is his aligned with traditional femininity more than other male characters, he is specifically aligned with the more negative tropes of femininity (i.e. lack of bravery, unreliable, dubious morals etc.).

That is a brief overview of the bones of Grima’s construction: name and inspiration. Now for actions and characterization within the text. This will be subdivided into comments on his use of magic and how that interfaces with Rohirrim masculinity then we’ll get into power and language.

Grima’s key point of power is his ability to weave words in so powerful a way he could convince Theoden of his own infirmity and weakness thereby securing control over the king. Alongside this, we know that he was using certain “potions and poison” to further weaken Theoden. Most likely to amp up the king’s physical weakness so it coincided with Grima’s mental magic games.

Magic for Anglo-Saxon and early medieval Scandinavians was heavily rooted in the power of the spoken word. Runes were probably used but the historical support of this is vague. Which is to say, we know they were used, we’re just not certain how and to what extent.

We do know that rune staves were a thing. They were most often used to send your landwights after opponents or wreck havoc on enemies from afar. To make one, a magic-worker would carve the prescribed runes onto a large stave and position it in the ground facing the direction of their enemy. On top of the stave was added the head of a horse. (Lots of horse sacrifice happened for early medieval Scandinavians, alongside some human sacrifice.)

But, the brunt of magic for Anglo-Saxons and early medieval Scandinavians was spoken word. Which makes sense as their society was, like Rohan’s, predominantly illiterate or, at least, para-literate (though, there has been some recent archeological evidence that is starting to call that into question, for what that’s worth).

In particular, Grima’s spellwork aligns most closely with seidr, a fact I’ve gone about ad nausea. And, again, something we can assume Tolkien was aware of, which means he was also aware of the gendered implications of a man practicing the craft.

The mainstay of seidrcraft is, but not limited to, the following:

making illusions,

causing madness and/or forgetfulness,

brewing of potions and poisons,

prophesying,

channeling the dead,

channeling gods,

removal of elf-shot, and

recovering lost portions of someone’s soul.

The first three bullets are things Grima does to Theoden. That kind of magic — the kind that fucks with your mind and your sense of self, the kind that is subtle and quiet and lurks beneath the surface so you don’t know it’s happening, that’s cunning — that kind of magic is what women do.

It was considered unmanly/effeminate for a man to partake in it as it undermined the hypermasculine militarized culture of the time. Winning a battle or a fight through spells and poison was cowardly.

Therefore, in Rohan where we have this hypermasculine culture that so prizes military glory and grandeur and martial might, Grima pursuing his goals through spellcraft and potions/poisons is Grima pursuing distinctly unmasculine, effeminate modes of action.

Indeed, within Rohan it could call into question the entirety of his masculinity. It would make him ragr (adj. unmanly) because his actions are the epitome of ergi (noun. unmanliness).

"In the Viking Age, homosexual men were treated with extreme disdain and a complex kind of moral horror, especially those who allowed themselves to be penetrated. Such a man was ragr, not only homosexual by inclination and action, but also inhabiting a state of being that extended to ethical and social qualities. This complex of concepts has been extensively studied, and in the words of its leading scholar, "the unmanly man is everything that a man should not be with regard to morals and character. He is effeminate and he is a coward, and consequently devoid of honour". [...] What we would call sexual orientation was, in the viking age, completely bound up with much wider and deeper codes of behaviour and dignity, extending way beyond physical and emotional preference." -Neil Price, Children of Ash and Elm: A History of the Vikings

Though Price references specifically homosexuality in this passage, a man could be considered ragr for more than just that — and one of the other ways was through practicing seidr.

We see this with Odin, who learns how to do seidrcraft from Freyja, and is then mocked by Loki for how emasculating the practice is for Odin to undertake (as if Loki has any room to talk). Odin’s made himself effeminate, he’s made himself unmanly, he’s allowed himself to learn spells that could enable him to take a cowards way out of a situation, to be dishonourable etc.

Which is a neat tie-back to Grima’s name being one of Odin’s names, particularly when he is in disguise and using seidrcraft and wily ways to escape various unfortunate situations that he ends up in during the Grimnismal saga.

(As Odin says: I have been called Evildoer, Spellcaster, Masked and Shadowed-Face, Fool and Wise Man.)

It also mirrors him to Gandalf - another character who bears an Odinnic name. Gandalf very much represents the masculine, “acceptable” aspects of Odin. Grima embodies the darker, more dubious, and more effeminate, aspects of the god. As I’ve said in other posts, they are two sides of the Odin coin.

Though both are temperamental as fuck.

Alongside the spellcraft and potions, Grima’s performance of power does not align with Rohirrim traditions and ideals. He relies on his wits and his skill with language to navigate the world. Succinctly captured in the epithet bestowed upon him: Wormtongue. This is the modernization of Wyrmtunga, or, Dragon’s Tongue.

Wyrm can translate to worm, sure, and we see Saruman doing this on purpose when he refers to Grima as a worm, a creature that crawls in the dirt. But Wyrm, of course, is actually a form of dragon. And in Middle Earth, wyrm is used interchangeably with dragon (Smaug is called both wyrm and dragon), rather than denoting a specific species/categorization of dragon as it does in our world.

Grima’s approach to power is that of a gentle touch. He speaks softly, but doesn’t carry a large stick. He’s not Eomer or Theodred, who are much more traditionally martial, aggressive and forthright in their responses to a situation. Grima is clearly all about influencing those around him either through persuasion/use of words, or through spellcraft. He manipulates, he uses linguistic trickery.

Additionally, how he undertakes his role as advisor to the king places him more within the private world of Meduseld and the king’s household than the active, public world of marshals and thanes. And, of course, the private world of households was traditionally considered the woman’s domain while men were expected to occupy the public spaces of the world.

Of course, being involved in court politics is a public role as opposed to existing within a wholly private space (such as Eowyn. Who, in the books, takes a mostly private role until she is required to rule in her uncle’s stead while he and Eomer are off at war, and even then it is clearly considered a temporary situation and part of her duty as a woman). But the manner in which Grima occupies that public position is a more “feminine” one.

We can assume that if Eomer or Erkenbrand or Elfhelm occupied the role as advisor to Theoden, they would have a very different approach to the position. A much more aggressive, active and probably military-focused approach. Less carrot, more stick.

A quick note on his appearance in the film, aside from being entirely in black with black hair in a land full of blonds because he needed to be visually distinct as the Bad Guy. He is dressed in longer tunics and robes compared to Eomer and other Rohirrim men (aside from Theoden, but as soon as he is “healed” of his possession(?) he returns to the Proper Masculine shorter tunics than the Weak and Effeminate longer robes and tunics of before). Grima’s hair is longer than Eomer’s and Theoden’s, he wears only a dagger and not a sword, the furs and quilting of his clothes indicate wealth and status, of course, but also decadence and effeminacy.

All in all, Grima’s performance and actions undermine and subvert Rohirrim expectations of masculinity. If not outright transgressing gender norms. He uses spellcraft to achieve his ends which is cowardly and effeminate. When it’s not that, he relies on language and manipulation to ensure his position and rarely, if ever, willingly takes on an active, martial role that would be expected of a man who is in the king’s household and serves as an advisor and a quasi-second-in-command.

Here is a man, occupying a man’s role, but doing it like a woman. Subversive! Scandalous! Underappreciated by fandom!

Grima lives in a liminal, marginalized space that is at once gendered and ungendered but is absolutely Othered.

As for my note on Grima and being trans - absolutely a trans woman. Grima suffers from that thing of “I want to be you and sleep with you” re: Eowyn. That’s my hot take. (Similar to me and Alan Grant from Jurassic Park - I want to be him and sleep with him.)

But no, in all seriousness, a strong argument can absolutely be made for Grima being not-cis, however that might look for Grima. Grima and Eowyn are the two, within the trilogies, that have the strongest arguments to be made for not being cis.

(Grima is a bit of a foil for Eowyn, I think, while also being a foil for Gandalf.)

#grima wormtongue #lotr #Lord of the Rings #writing #lit #gender presentation #gender in LOTR #Rohan #masculinity #queer shit #history #anglo-saxon #viking

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rohirric-hunter · 2 years

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I absolutely understand the frustration of having someone who really wasn’t ready for an instance dragging the whole team down, and if you, in your kinship, want to put in place some restrictions about gear level for certain raid tiers that’s fine, but you have to actually put those restrictions in place in a tangible, specific way. Saying, “Don’t join a T3 raid if your gear isn’t up to snuff,” is...

Let me put it this way. I was in a kinship for a long time that was real casual, good kinship until it died, and then I quit it, and I was sort of desperate for a kinship so for about two weeks I joined another kin that I’d never heard of before or seen around, and in this kin there were a handful of serious endgame raiders, and there was one individual who really wanted to raid with them, but they always said he needed to improve his gear first. They were always doing T3+ blah blah blah, work on your gear first.

Now I was allowed to raid with these people, and at this point I’d been working real hard on my gear and it was really good, right. But so was this other person! He put in a lot of effort and during the time I was in this kin he actually got his hands on gear that was better than mine, ground and ground and ground until he had really good gear, but it still wasn’t good enough. He still needed to work on his gear. Obviously something was up, I could raid with these people and he had better gear. So I cast out a few lines, asked some leading questions, and discovered that they just didn’t want to raid with him, and instead of telling him this like normal people, they were playing this stupid mind game, stringing him along.

Well, needless to say I left that kinship, joined another one, it was real good for a while, but we had a kin meeting and during the meeting the leader was like, “Don’t join a T3 raid if your gear isn’t up to snuff.” *war flashbacks*

This doesn’t affect me anymore. My gear is almost as good as it gets pre-Gundabad. I have a little bit I need to pick up and my LI needs some work. I wouldn’t join a T3+ run right now, but overall, my gear is really really good. But I’m sorry, I spent so many nights when I first got interested in endgame raiding crying because someone told me my gear wasn’t good enough and then called me stupid because I asked what I could do to improve it, frantically googling in an effort to find guides (there weren’t any), “I’m not here to educate you lol”, people telling me my gear wasn’t good enough for T2 when I’d been running T2 and T3 daily for a week and a half (with different groups on different days all of whom were happy to have me so I’m reasonably sure I wasn’t being carried)... listen it was really hard. And I’m not going to be affiliated with a group that opens the door to that happening to other people, even if that’s not the intention (as I’m sure it wasn’t).

I don’t really like to bring this up, because it feels a little too much like a cry for pity, but LotRO was the first video game I ever had where you had any control over your build beyond finding a better weapon. I had owned Skyrim before, someone gave it to me as a gift, but blah blah blah video games breed violence, blah blah blah magic is of the devil, blah blah blah. I wasn’t allowed to play it at home and I didn’t really have time in college. So I was actually encountering most of these concepts for the first time ever. A year ago I didn’t know what DPS was. I had never heard the term before. If I had been playing probably any other game, it would not have been worth it for me to learn. I would have given up because the community is so hostile to people who are new to it.

#lotro #fuck #not looking to start an argument just #you know #i got one of the kinship officers in my dms now asking me why i left the kinship #look buddy we both know you dont want to hear the answer to that question #but the short version #which i did tell him #is that while it clearly wasnt the intention the path was opened for people to bully each other and play fucked mind games #and nothing had been put into place to discourage this behavior #the more complicated version #which i did not tell him #is that several members of the kinship were on my ignore list for that exact behavior in lff #(not the guy from that other post that was a different issue but a handful of other people)#anyway if i didnt have so much going on irl i might have addressed the issue with the kin leader and tried to get it worked out #but i just cant be responsible for that right now im exhausted and the game is my outlet #i might #i might just hit my dailies as leonys for a while and play as lower level characters by myself for a while #im trying to hash out what happened with leonys and hathellang during the events of vol 1 so maybe ill work on that a bit #i got #hmmmm i just #so i got this elf runekeeper perethinal #and hes got a real barebones personality right now but i know in the lorcu hes with the grey company #and idk im really feeling like #im really feeling if leonys knew him beforehand and im wondering... maybe garth agarwen? maybe he was involved in that?#idk though

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hahahax30 · 2 years

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CK!! How are you dear?

I'm not sure if I ever replied to your world building but in case I didn't I wanted to say I love it A LOT.

THE CONCEPT IN ITSELF IS SO COOL

I can't find the reblog but the mirror world was incredible like it was just such a creative idea! Bestie you're brilliant!

And I believe you said they kind of had one big culture there, so it's its own sort of group of people who live here, right?

I know there was more but I can't remember for some reason I'm not sure if I didn't finish reading and then lost it or something I'm sorry 🥺 I just wanted to tell you I thought the world-building was fucking fantastic like absolutely beautiful!

Also if I get a chance tonight I'll read the first chapter of TKC <3

Also one last question (sorry).

Who's your favorite character to write? 👀

Lola!!!!!

I'm fine high school started today, which isn't ideal but I'll survive lol. You?

You didn't reply, but I didn't want to push it. I know it was a *lot* and kinda tedious :) That being said, I'm so happy you liked it!!!!!!

Mirror was basically my way of playing around with being God, and juxtaposing everything/many things I like and an urban fantasy setting, though it actually started like a very crazy tsc fanfiction.

The Kinship does have its own culture, yes, but it's so big and diverse --because it encompasses the whole of the world-- that the concept of culture is a bit complicated. Think of it as how immigrants are shaped by both their host (?) country and their country of origin with a bit of a twist. For example, I have a Spanish family who is somewhat influenced by Spanish culture --some of the languages they speak, the food they tend to eat, the fact that they have sobremesa culture, etc-- but they're still Saz in the way that it is Saz holidays what they truly celebrate (they go to Semana Santa but *only* because they're matriarch wants to gossip), they identify as Saz who are from the *territory* of Spain as opposed to Spaniards who happen to be Saz, there's a bit of a sense of disassociation from actual Spanish culture, etc.

It would be an honour to have you read my stuff!

In regards to the last question, I don't think there's a set answer. Writing each POV/character is always difficult because writing is a complex art lol. However, writing certain aspects of the main character's POV feels like a letter to myself (I based some aspects of her on myself), which is nice; there's a character who's pretty deep in an interest I'm particularly fond of; another one who struggles with the same things I do and whose storyline touches close to home; there's a character who makes me smile often once I read over their scenes... They're all special in their own way, and I don't think I could pick one even if the struggle of writing were surmounted :)

What is your favourite character to write, Lola? Fanfiction or original work-wise?

#lola!#lola's ask

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mxadrian779 · 3 years

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1. Aunty Azula recovering post-canon, but still snarky and still hates 99% of people, but has the softest spot for the Steambabies (Zutara).

2. Azula being completely against Zutara until a certain event ( Kat healing her or defending her or etc) and after which she is Kat’s absolute #1 fan and will fight anyone (noblemen/noblewomen or anyone) who has something to say about her. Bonus, if the 2 gang up on poor Zuko haha

Ps. Can you tell that I have a soft spot for Azula 👀

She remembers the days she walked through darkness. It was like an endless thunderstorm in her mind. She remembers feeling like she no longer knew who she was. Her whole identity had revolved around being the Fire Lord's progeny. She was born lucky. She was born to conquer. The day of her defeat had taken everything away from her.

The world around her had considered her as lost as she considered herself. Hopeless. Useless. Dead. There was nothing left for the disgraced princess.

The only ones who showed her mercy were the ones she'd most betrayed. The Avatar, naïve as he often was, always believed in her redemption. Ty Lee was also convinced that she could find the girl she once loved. The others were more cautious and rightfully dubious, but nevertheless treated her more human than she would often treat herself.

It took years to crawl out of the darkness of her mind. Sometimes she still teetered on the edge, threatening to fall back into oblivion. But she swore an oath to herself that she would regain her honour, that she would redeem herself and make her own own destiny. The further from the darkness she was, the more she understood her brother. They were both such victims of a tyrannical man who used his children as pawns. She thought her father genuinely loved her and favoured her over her brother---and he did, because she was easier to use. He knew how to tap the mind of an overly ambitious child who wanted nothing more than the love of the one parent she had left.

At least Zuko was able to escape.

She shook her head to shake off the thought. Now was not the time for bitterness. That was way behind her. Don't look back. Look forward.

When she had been properly familiarised with the Avatar's gang, she found so many things were different than she had thought. The Avatar was with the blind girl, the nonbender with the Kyoshi Warrior...and the waterbender with her brother.

That was a...tricky demon to banish. That was another wound to heal. Seeing the two people most responsible for her downfall was a deeply-embedded thorn. Even out of the darkness, she still was bothered by it, though logically couldn't understand why.

She supposed maybe it was a deep-seated bias against Water Tribesmen that was a reason for her discomfort. The Fire Nation had not been fond of the Tribes because, unlike the Earth Kingdom, they could neither be bought nor bullied. Ravaged as the Southern Water Tribe was, it never stopped fighting or standing up for itself. Maybe there was something to admire in that.

Whatever discomfort she had about the waterbender was clearly reflected. The waterbender was incredibly protective of Zuko, and was very wary of his sister. She feared the former princess could slip back at any moment...and, to be honest, sometimes the princess feared that herself. She couldn't make that guarantee to herself, much less to anyone else.

She didn't think their union could last. Fire and water mix like...well, fire and water. They just don't.

And yet, by the spirits, they did.

She didn't attend their wedding. She couldn't. She didn't need the attention.

She didn't have the right, anyway.

And then came the kids.

Turned out Zuko's greatest honour comes through his kids. He makes an amazing father, determined to be everything their father wasn't. He's supportive. He's attentive. He dotes and yet knows when to give them their freedom. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't sometimes jealous.

Their first was Rinaya, a studious, dedicated firebender whom the Fire Lord adores. Sometimes she can see a little of herself in Rinaya, and her brother takes notice. He seems to be on his guard, watching for warning signs of history repeating itself. He seems determined never to tell his children about their grandfather; the waterbender believes they have the right to know.

She personally prefers to keep everything where it belongs, but she understands the need for awareness. Her family is a strong cautionary tale.

Sometimes, she helps Rinaya learn firebending. It still catches her by surprise to see a normal-coloured flame coming from her hands. When she lost the darkness, she lost the blue fire. She always considered it her trademark, her pride, but constantly tries to remind herself that it was an ill pride. Imbalance isn't a virtue, after all. It wasn't something to hold up to her name.

She likes to think of herself as bonding with her niece, although Rinaya's mother is never far from sight.

She remembers her brother mentioning his early days with the Avatar's gang, and his struggle to neutralise his relationship with the waterbender. There was something in his heart that made it important to redeem himself to her. His sister never asks him further. She knows he shares her desire to leave history alone.

She didn't know that she'd ever reclaim her honour in the waterbender's eyes. She was once afraid to try, thinking it a lost cause, not that she could blame her sister-in-law.

But something changed when Akiyo was born. He was a nonbender, which was taboo in royal history. The Fire Nation takes badly to heirs and heiresses who are not firebenders; Akiyo couldn't even talk yet and he was made a disgrace in the eyes of Fire Nation society. Through this, she found a bizarre feeling of kinship with him, and swore herself to his side as his protector. Maybe a dishonoured princess guarding a dishonoured prince was where her destiny lay.

Through Akiyo, she grew fond of his mother. She saw the pure courage and passion that she possessed, and came to admire everything she had pulled herself through. Often, she wished she could ask how she kept her strength and optimism, wished she could borrow even a drop of her courage. But she knew enough to keep her distance. She was still not trusted. Someday. Not today.

But she's close enough to what matters most to her, and that means the world.

Today, she looks in the mirror, and no longer sees the girl she once was. She paints the white onto her face, and then the red markings, happily covering the face that often haunted her. She slides the gold adornment onto her topknot, places the personal headband, and climbs into the emerald robes, fastening the leather breastplate and aged katana. She makes her way to the foyer and out the front entrance, where she is greeted by her old friend.

"Good morning, Azula," chirps the other, giving her shoulder a meaningful squeeze.

She smiles broadly in response, briefly pulling Ty Lee into a tight hug. Then, she stands back, assumes her guard, and casts her gaze outward into the world.

#zuko #katara #azula #zutara #atla #fanfiction #prompt #avatar #avatar: the last airbender #fanfic prompt

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Text

Team Bonding

fr when was the last time i posted like,,, a fic on here. like a tumblr fic. damn. anyway. ummmmmmmm this is just your.... typical steve freaks out and the avengers are awesome um yah ok ok

warnings: panic attack, vomiting (basically steve watches the titanic and doesnt have a very fun time)

word count: 2575

If Steve was being brutally honest with himself, he was fucking tired of hearing about “the classics”. Irrelevant people butting their noses into his business, tipping him off to what movies were, “the best of the best!” and “absolute must sees!” He appreciated what they were trying to do, but after a while, it felt like people were more or less just trying to garner a slice of his 21st century experience, and quite frankly, he liked doing things better by himself. It was much more appealing to park himself in front of his laptop, nothing but his own quietude to keep him company as he combed through different wikipedia rabbit holes and caught up on movies and TV shows that were apparently crucial to his very existence.

Most were subpar and honestly, he preferred the copious amounts of popcorn he treated himself to on these solo date nights, but some things surprised him. Like Indiana Jones. He liked Indiana Jones. He was neat, and Marion reminded him vaguely of Peggy.

Still, he supposed he should have seen it coming when Clint came to collect him from his floor one evening, that sort of eager-puppy energy he carried around with him vaguely prickling the back of Steve’s neck.

“C’mon, man,” he was saying. Steve leaned against the door jamb, tired. He was going to concede, but Clint was rambling and Steve knew better than to interrupt him. “It’s, like, certifiably the best love story ever. You need to watch it--”

And there it was again. That fucking claim. You need to watch this! You haven’t seen that?

No. He hadn’t. He’d been a little busy, you know, being dead.

“--And the acting is all so raw and it’s just-- Leo DiCaprio-- you know who that--”

“--Yes. I saw Blood Diamond--”

“--Oh, you did? Well, anyway, he rocks in this and--”

“Clint,” Steve cut him off smoothly. “I’ll come, don’t sweat it too hard.”

Clint looked positively elated. “You will?” he exclaimed. “Awesome, yeah, it’s gonna be the whole team. I mean, that’s good right? You’re cool with that? You gotta be, you’re the one who mentioned team bonding that one time--”

“Yes,” Steve cut in again. “I’m alright with that. Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be right down?” He was still in his gym clothes from two hours ago. He meant to take a shower, but he’d sort of… ran out of energy. The sweat had cooled by now anyway. He smelled fine.

“Oh! Yeah, no problem.”

Which was how Steve found himself in a pair of sweatpants and an old SHIELD t-shirt, squashed in between Natasha and Bruce on the communal couch. Someone had handed him a huge bowl of popcorn and Steve was pleasantly surprised to find that it was flavored with some sort of cheese powder.

“White cheddar,” Bruce said, holding up a little blue shaker bottle when he heard Steve’s appreciative hum. “They’re, uh, sort of like seasoning, but for popcorn specifically. They come in all different kinds of flavors.”

“Oh, neat,” Steve said, around another handful of popcorn. He liked Bruce. He seemed to get Steve in that quiet, brutally raw sort of way. A quiet kinship. They didn’t talk about it, but he never made him feel condescended, so Steve decided that was okay.

“I think I fixed it!” Tony said, stepping out from behind the ginormous movie screen where, presumably, he’d been fixing a volume problem. The screen had been frozen on the first frame of the movie for nearly ten minutes. “Okay, okay, let’s see…” he pressed play. Music poured through the speakers on either side of the TV, loud enough so that everyone cringed and Steve nearly dropped the popcorn bowl in his haste to cover his ears. He always managed to forget how damn loud the world could be when he let himself get comfortable.

“Sorry, sorry!” Tony hissed, turning the volume down to a much more tolerable level. “Okay, there. Okay, shh everyone. Gotta let Capsicle--”

“--Just Steve, Tony--”

“--Gotta let Just Steve get the full experience.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but settled in to watch.

The film was honestly better than Steve had been expecting, if not a little… itchy in that way period films tended to be for him. The themes of poverty and love were pretty well-rounded, but they hit just close enough that he almost cringed at the far-fetch’d beauty of it.

Still, his fingers itched for a pencil as Jack guided a pencil over the worn sheaf of paper. The dim light, the faint scratch of the pencil, the forbidden love. It was familiar. Steve could almost smell the salty City air, afternoons spent under the dim lights of candles so they could see even with the curtains drawn-- a semblance of privacy amongst the compact vulnerability of his and Bucky’s shitty little tenement.

Draw me like one of your french girls, Rose had said, and Steve’s eyes drifted towards the wall, Bucky’s voice echoing through his head.

“‘Course I want you to draw me. I ain’t denying my vanity, Stevie,” he teased, but his eyes were soft. “Pal, you could draw a stick of butter and I’d still wanna watch. It ain’t about me here.”

There was a soft touch to his arm and Steve blinked out of his reverie. Natasha was watching him, a neutral look on her face that Steve had finally learned to recognize as concern. He shook his head minutely, offering her a smile. She nodded and looked back at the TV.

The rest of the movie passed without much excitement. The acting was pretty good and Steve had even gotten to a point where he could recognize the filmmaking as something like revolutionary for the time it came out. He was quicker on the cultural uptake than people gave him credit for, but that was neither here nor there. He laughed with everyone else, let himself grow somber when the atmosphere lent that mood, and generally, it was a nice time. He hadn’t gone to any movie nights before this, but he thought maybe he’d start going to more.

And then the ship hit the iceberg.

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Obviously, he knew of the Titanic-- he knew, historically, what happened to it. But for some reason, it hadn’t quite hit him while watching the movie that he was going to have to see the catastrophe go down.

There was a loud creaking of ice on metal as the collision occurred on screen and Steve felt himself go still-- body rigid and tense as the deafening noise played through the speakers. His heart slammed in his chest and he felt his palms start to sweat. He knew that sound-- he knew that--

--He blinked, shaking his head. Movie. Watch the movie. There was a panicked scramble on screen. Characters rushing to amend the situation, more metal creaking and groaning and breaking as dark, foamy water broke through the sides of the ship and Steve could taste it, he could taste the water flooding into the cabin, hitting him from the left as it took the plane down in a harsh--

--He twitched, shaking his head. He was being silly. There were moments of reconciliation as the scenes rapidly flashed between water flooding the ships cabins and peaceful moments of civility. A calm before the storm. A final dance before death.

I’m gonna need a raincheck on that dance…

There was a sudden crash as water blasted through into the work quarters and Steve jumped, watching transfixed as unforgiving torrents pushed workers over, flooding them, drowning them, and they were falling, slipping, sliding, panicking as certain death met them at the halfway point, and Steve knew it must be cold. So cold. Suffocating and unforgiving as it flooded their lungs, saltier than they probably imagined, heavy and awful and--

“Stark, turn the movie off.”

The room went abruptly silent. Steve realized his eyes were closed, chest heaving as he sat, hunched over his lap, hands fisted in his hair.

The popcorn wasn’t on his lap anymore. When had he moved? He couldn’t breathe and he was so cold and someone needed to save those guys, someone needed to--

“Steve,” a gentle voice cut into the roaring waves crashing in his head. Bruce. That was Bruce speaking. “Can you hear me, Steve?”

Steve nodded, pulling his hair harder. He couldn’t breathe. Was he drowning again? Surely that was impossible. If Bruce was talking to him, he couldn’t be drowning again, but-- but the water-- and-- and the cold--

“Good, that’s good, Steve,” Bruce. Bruce again. It was Bruce. “Can I touch you?”

Touch. Touch. No touch. He was so cold. He wanted to stop being cold, but he was certain if someone touched him right now, he would lose his goddamn mind. More so than he already had.

“That’s alright,” Bruce sounded steady. Calm. So calm. Why couldn’t Steve calm down? “That’s okay. You think you can do something for me?”

Something… for Bruce? Could he? Could he do anything right then? If he couldn’t breathe, how could he do anything-- and he-- he felt sick--

He opened his mouth to answer and vomited between his feet, straight onto the carpet. Someone in the room hissed sympathetically. Steve wanted to crawl somewhere and die.

“Oh, Steve,” Bruce seemed to be talking mostly to himself, but Steve felt his shoulders climb higher towards his ears. “Okay, Steve, I need you to listen to my voice. Just listen. I’m going to count and you’re going to breathe in time with my instruction, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Steve shook his head, choking on a sob. His chest hurt. Like someone had taken all of his ribs and replaced them with weights, flooding his lungs with-- with water-- and fuck, now he was thinking about the plane again. He felt his breathing tick up higher.

“I want you to try,” Bruce said. “With me. In,” he sucked in a breath. “One… two… three… four…”

Steve tried to suck in a breath, but all he managed to do was send himself into a coughing fit. Bruce kept counting. Steve wanted to tell him to wait-- slow down-- shut up--

He braced a hand over his chest.

Bruce was still counting.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually he found himself matching Bruce’s counts, eyes closed and the heels of his palms braced on his temples as he sucked in greedy, measured breaths. His heart was still slamming hard enough to make him tremble and he could smell his own sick wafting up from the ground, but at least he was breathing on his own.

Bruce trailed off. Silence hung thick in the air, the only noise Steve’s slow, shaking breaths. Shame burned around his ears. He didn’t dare look up.

Tony, predictably, was the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry, Steve,” he said, and Steve was surprised to hear honest regret in his voice. “I was the one who suggested we watch Titanic. I should have thought for more than two seconds about that…”

Steve shrugged. Embarrassment climbed from his stomach to his throat, threatening to choke him.

Natasha spoke next. “Why don’t you go wash up?” It was an escape-- a way out-- and Steve took it graciously, keeping his head ducked down as he stood on shaking legs and rushed to the communal bathroom.

Inside, he locked the door and braced himself over the sink, splashing warm water on his face. He drank greedily from the tap. His reflection looked like shit-- he’d burst some blood vessels in his eyes, probably while vomiting, and his skin looked sallow and pale. He was trembling, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He looked how he looked after a nightmare. This, he supposed, had kind of been like a nightmare. Though, he hadn’t been asleep.

Nightmares, he was finding, weren’t strictly exclusive to the nighttime.

He supposed he’d always known that, though.

He closed his eyes, bowing his head again.

His emotions had been fucked to high hell since waking up from the ice. This hadn’t been the first of those awful… fits, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last, but to have something like that happen in front of the team was a whole new level of mortifying. Fuck. He’d gotten sick. And he’d left it.

He felt the ceramic counter straining under his grip. Scowling, he let go.

He could slip off to his room, lock himself away until he could find some way to sneak out of the Tower and never talk to any of the others ever again. Even in this state, Steve knew that wasn’t viable in any sense. He sighed. Besides, he couldn’t just damn the others to clean up his mess.

Stowing his pride, he dug some spare mouthwash out from behind the mirror and chugged some straight down, keeping a mouthful and swishing it around before spitting it in the sink. He still felt and looked like shit, but at least his breath would smell like wintergreen.

The others were still gathered in the communal living room, watching what looked like a kid’s cartoon on TV. There was a distinct smell of cleaner in the air and Steve’s eyes landed on the ground where he’d gotten sick. It was clean. He let his eyes drop to the ground, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The cartoon paused. He didn’t look at any of them. “I was going to clean up.”

“Nah, man, the only thing worse than freaking out is having to clean up after yourself while you still feel shitty,” Clint said, and Steve looked up. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding.

“Yeah, we’ve all been there,” Tony said. “Sucks, but hey, least we know now that Titanic is a no-no for you.”

Steve flushed, swallowing a few times. “Um, I guess,” he looked at Bruce. “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled. “No problem,” he said gently. “We’re watching Phineas and Ferb if you’d like to join us, but we understand if you’d like to go rest.”

“Phineas and Ferb?” Steve asked, guilt replaced with genuine confusion.

“Yeah,” Clint said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “It’s my go-to when I have a bad day. Nothing like some good old platypus drama to cure life’s woes.”

Steve blinked. “I genuinely don’t know what to say to that.”

Clint barked out a laugh. “Join us, man! Don’t gotta talk if you’re not feeling it, but being alone after shit like that sucks.”

And Steve hadn’t had someone there for him after a breakdown-- not since the war. Not since Bucky. Every ounce of him wanted to run. Hide. Smooth out his face and slip on that mask of stoicism. But maybe… maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe he could let himself have this, if only this once.

“Sure,” he said, voice a little hoarse. He awkwardly sat back in between Natasha and Bruce.

Tony pressed play again and Steve smoothed his hands over his thighs, feeling out of place and a little cramped and--

Natasha settled, casually letting her feet rest on his lap. On his other side, Bruce leaned into his shoulder, a subtle, grounding pressure. Clint caught his eye and offered him some more popcorn.

Steve relaxed.

Yeah. He could let himself have this.

thanks for reading, chiefs

yeah this was chatted about in one of the awesome discord groups im in so thanks guyysss lol

#marvel shit #marvel #Steve Rogers #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #Avengers #team bonding #yes #avengers fic #i love them all #dlakjfl #ok #crawling back into my hole #im definitely supposed to be doing homework

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