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igotanidea · 11 months ago

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Dating Sam Winchester headcanons.

Requested: I was wondering if you could write something supernatural with Sam Winchester, what kind of boyfriend would Sam be? Thank you anon, made that as expanded headcanons starting from meeting and going further in the relationship.

A little NSFW in point 16.

***

1.Bookshops dates

I mean come on, all things considered I am pretty sure you would meet him in the library rather than any place else. And even if you weren’t actually reaching for mythological monsters encyclopaedia or the yearbook of the city from 1456, you were bound to meet at the counter. It wasn’t that big bookshop after all and Sam, with his tall, muscular silhouette was definitely filling most of the space, forcing you to sneak under his arm to get what you were aiming for. Not that you complained, cause he does smell good.

2. Soul longing – as silly as that may sound. Ok listen up. He had women, that’s for sure. But one night stands is only good for so long. And unlike Dean he needed stability from the beginning. Sam is not a player nor a playboy. And as for you? You’re not just gonna jump into the bed of a very handsome, tall and broad shouldered man you met briefly while buying a book, right?

Even if you can imagine so many things he could do with those hands….

Even if you can tell just by looking at him that he’s got enough experience and skills to keep you up all night and –

“Miss? Miss are you all right?”

Damn, seem like you just spaced out in front of the guy who’s been currently eyeing you with those deep eyes piercing right into your soul.

Impossible to forget and even more impossible to let go.

3. Cliché scenario – you actually became a part of team free will after getting into a demon related accident serving the part of a lady in distress perfectly. Got hurt so bad the boys Sam felt guilty enough to look for you for a couple weeks while getting too attached.

4. Obviously wanting to keep you out of the family business. Too bad he got himself a persistent badass, who refused to sit cases out. You may not be a hunter, but you’re a girl. And who’s better than a woman when it comes to making scenes and getting man to mansplain to the poor, innocent soul that knows nothing? The first time you faked cried he fell for it all the way and never questioned your skills again.

5. Probably making you get an anti-possession tattoo. Just for safety, of course. And holding your hand all time while getting it done, caressing your palm in that special reassuring way. And then kissing it better after, regardless of the place it was inked on.

6. Funny thing he was hesitant to put a tag on your relationship. At first. Can’t blame him given all that happened to his mother and Jess. But his emotional side finally took over and he blurted something in the middle of an argument.

“You’re staying here tonight.”

“The hell I am, Sam.”

“I’m not asking.”

‘You’re not my boss.”

“Well I am your boyfriend!”

“Did you just-? Sam? Sam, did you just - ?”

You never got to finish that sentence. And just that one time you stayed behind.

Behind being on the backseat, no further.

7. Bantering over silly stuff while making Dean crazy, cause since you two got together there’s no one to bring him pie.

8. Knowledge duels – as long as you pick the theme, cause no way you’re going against him in history or demonology. It is however possible to beat him in popculture or modern cinematography.

“How am I supposed to know all those –“

“Educate yourself Sammy.”

“Oh I will educate you on something –“

9. Merciless teasing from Dean about stuff that should not ever be his business.

“Hey, whose underwear is that?”

“Brought you two some protection.”

“Hey maybe we can get a threesome?”

“Is that a hickey on your neck Y/N? God, girl, you are loud.”

(but we all know that’s the way Dean’s inner soft side is showing)

10. Doing research while laying head on his chest, tracing patterns on his skin. (making him distracted and locked up in another room until you start to behave.)

11. Doing research in the various libraries. You have no idea but he raises his gaze from the book way too often to actually comprehend any of the text. The way you are frowning, scrunching your nose and the way your eyes shine every time you come upon a clue or a helpful fact seem to be more interesting.

12. Fights – oh, damn, it was bound to happen right?

Arguing with Sam is impossible. He always keeps his cool, not letting the blood boil no matter how many needles you gives him. Sometimes it feels like he’s wearing that stupid armour turning into stone just to infuriate you.

But not for long, cause Sammy can’t stand to see you hurt or broken. That’s not him. It doesn’t matter if you started the fight (you’re being reckless, you’re gonna get killed, you need some rest) or he was the part to initiate it (you’re not the hunter, I know better, I’ll handle it) he’ll be all up for communication. Talking through.

Being a Winchester comes with toughness and roughness sometimes, but Sam doesn’t deny having feelings he want to work on. With you.

It’s not a perfect relationship but you’re patching it up with all the best and most resistant fabric.

13. Subtle hand holding while driving on a hunt. You may be in the backseat while both brothers take the front ones, but who cares. The blank between the driver and shotgun is for something, right? And who cares about the gearbox?

14. Forehead kisses and cuddling – you have actually seen Sam right? If that’s not a giant teddy bear than I don’t know who is. Definition of safety and warmth. Just imagine nuzzling into him with those strong arms around you keeping you safe from any demon, angel, witch, wendigo, shapeshifter or whatever else monster might come for you.

15. Steamy make out session in the impala just to get some privacy. Honestly I believe at some point this would be used as a threat for alone time.

"Get out Dean.”

“ Mmm. Nope. Not happening. I got stuff to do here.”

“I said get out.”

“Make me.”

“Well I think you should go and check on your car before I take care of the backseat.”

Wide eyes, rushing out and not getting back for hours.

Mission completed.

16. Getting intimate with Sam is indescribable. You don’t even need words and yet he seems to understand everything your body tries to convey. Soft, slow, sensual and tender love making while looking into your eyes, refusing to let your gaze drop? Tracing your body and kissing all over your soft skin? Making you feel fragile, small and delicate no matter your size?

All done.

I see Sam as a soft dom. He could break your boundaries easily and probably would, but never to the point of hurting you.

Rough play, BDSM, kinks, making love on any flat surface possible? Not exactly his style.

Stretching you out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pressing you into the mattress, marking you? Absolutely.

He’s fine with pleasuring you, getting to know what turns you on (hitting and finding all the sensitive spots that makes you mewl and rake nails down his body), never failing to make you see stars.

He may not be talking too much and not use a lot of dirty talk, but hey, a few thrusts, a few flicks of his tongue, his muscles flexing under your fingersand the feel of him so freaking deep and you forget something such as words exist.

17. Getting just the right amount of aftercare cuddles, kisses and hugs. Duties are calling and Sam may be a bit of a workaholic, but you’re on top of the “to-do-list.” Taking just the right amount of time to help you get back to reality, getting your floating soul back into your thoroughly loved out body by caresses, kisses, touches, strokes. Whatever you need.

He loves you.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester headcanon

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atimeofyourlife · 11 months ago

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Learn to forget your biases

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: angst with a happy ending | rating: t | wc: 925 | tags: hurt/comfort, eddie munson being an asshole, hurt steve harrington, angst, hopeful ending Steve got sick of Eddie constantly putting down everything he liked, leading to a fight. Eddie had to put the work in to make it better.

"Why are you even with me if you can't stand to even pretend to be interested in anything that I like?"

It had been days since the argument, and Steve still felt like shit. He hadn't wanted it to end like that, with a maybe break up. He'd just been feeling so frustrated with Eddie being so dismissive of everything he enjoyed, where he at least tried to understand Eddie's hobbies and interests. At times, it felt like Eddie was trying to make him into a clone of him, and it really gave Steve the impression that Eddie was only with him for his looks. Or because he was the only other queer guy in Hawkins that they knew of.

It had started when Steve was making plans to see the Pacers. He'd got the tickets and was thinking they could get a hotel for the night and make a thing of it. But when he'd brought it up to Eddie, he'd laughed in his face. Asked what had possessed Steve into thinking it was something that Eddie would be interested in doing, and told him he shouldn't have even bothered wasting his money to buy tickets when he could just catch the game on tv. It had hurt, but Steve tried to brush it off. He invited Robin to go with him instead, knowing that even though she wasn't a huge fan of basketball, she would tag along and find a way to make it fun.

But Eddie then booked a last minute gig with the band at a bar in Indianapolis. On the same day as the Pacers game. At the same time. He tried to convince Steve to ditch the game to watch them play instead, saying that it would be a better use of his time, and that he was going to be in Indanapolis anyway, so it wouldn't make any difference. Steve refused, as he'd seen Eddie play in shitty bars so many times. Almost every gig they'd played since they'd been together, even attending when he was recovering from a migraine, not wanting to disappoint Eddie.

The fight was the next day. Eddie kept making jabs about Steve ditching him for a basketball game, claiming that he should have been Steve's priority. Steve couldn't even get a word in edgewise to say how the game had been. And he just got sick of it, remembering how Eddie never gave his interests a chance. Brushing off all mentions of sport. Insulting his taste in music, saying he needed an education in real music. Even making fun of his clothes. It was something he couldn't put up with any more.

In the aftermath of the fight, Steve felt lost. Robin had automatically taken his side, she'd already tried talking to Eddie about his attitude toward Steve's interests, only to get ignored. The kids were split, most of them taking Steve's side, but Dustin and Mike siding with Eddie. Saying that sports weren't worth it, that it made it seem like Steve hadn't changed from his jock days in high school. What did surprise Steve was Gareth and Jeff taking his side. They hadn't even known that Steve had invited Eddie to the game weeks before they'd booked the gig, and that Steve supported them at every opportunity, it made them decide that Eddie was being a dick just for the sake of it.

Steve didn't hear from Eddie for a while after the fight. Until one day he and Robin were working. Robin was manning the desk while he tidied and put away returns in the adult section. He wasn't paying much attention until he heard Robin's voice, a note of anger to it.

"If you're not here to apologize, you can fuck off right now."

"I come in peace." Eddie said, and Steve felt his heart skip a beat. Unsure of what could happen next.

"He's in there." Robin replied.

Steve kept his back to the doorway, just waiting for what Eddie was going to do or say.

"Hey." Eddie said softly, keeping his distance from Steve.

"Hi." Steve replied, turning slightly to face Eddie.

"I fucked up. I really, seriously fucked up, and I'm so, so sorry about it. It isn't an excuse, but I genuinely didn't realize how much of a dick I had been until almost everyone we know beat some sense into me. I was taking my attitude from high school too far and projecting it onto you. I know how much I hate it when people judge me based on my looks and my interests, but here I was doing the same to you. I hate how much I hurt you, and I am so sorry. I just hope you would give me another chance?"

"I. It did hurt, Eddie. You made me feel like I was worth less than you because I don't enjoy the same things you do. You lumped me in with a bunch of assholes who I never even associated with. I want us to work, but it's going to take a lot to prove that you're really in it for me." Steve said.

"I get that. Maybe this can be the start." Eddie held out an envelope, which Steve took. He opened it to find two tickets to the next Pacers game. For some of the best seats in the house. "Wayne had to help me figure out which ones I needed. I was thinking we could go together."

Steve smiled, it was a good gesture. "Yeah. I'd like that."

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #steddie angst #steddieholidaydrabbles #atimeofyourwrites

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dufferpuffer · 3 months ago

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~~ Looking at Lycanthropy ~~

Part 4: Long-Term Lycanthropy - The Case of Fenrir Greyback

Fenrir Greyback is an interesting figure. He is the only other named werewolf character, is wildly different from Remus... and gives us a broader view on what it is like to have Lycanthropy long-term.

Looking at Lycanthropy (all parts)

Words: Approx. 6000

Physical Symptoms (What he feels; what he does; what happens – factual.) Perceived Symptoms (How he seems to others, health focused) Social Perception (What people think of him; His social situation) Self Perception (What he thinks about himself)

HALF BLOOD PRINCE

First I'll go through what Remus has to say about him:

Chapter 16

Pg 284/285/286 “Oh, I’ve been underground,” said Lupin. “Almost literally. That’s why I haven’t been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve been living among my fellows, my equals,” said Lupin. “Werewolves,” he added, at Harry’s look of incomprehension. “Nearly all of them are on Voldemort’s side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was... ready-made.” He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, “I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing — and sometimes killing — to eat.” “How come they like Voldemort?” “They think that, under his rule, they will have a better life,” said Lupin. “And it is hard to argue with Greyback out there “ “Who’s Greyback?” “You haven’t heard of him?” Lupin’s hands closed convulsively in his lap. “Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough werewolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children... Bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people’s sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results.” Lupin paused and then said, “It was Greyback who bit me.” “What?” said Harry, astonished. “When — when you were a kid, you mean?” “Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback’s insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people.”

Werewolf recap: Werewolves live 'almost literally underground' – separated, shunning society. They struggle to survive, even stealing and killing to eat. Sending letters isn't done – probably both due to lack of basic education and outside contact. Everyone knows Fenrir Greyback. His word amongst werewolves is golden. Nearly all werewolves are on Voldemort's side, thinking he can give them a better life. - Voldemort supplies Fenrir with prime prey in return for his savagery. (Is that all he plans werewolves to be in society...? A punishment force? That's more than they have now, I suppose...) - Fenrir is 'the most savage werewolf alive today' - Fenrir wants to overtake wizarding society by creating more werewolves. He bites children and takes them from their parents to raise away from society thus likely low education in werewolves. - Fenrir bit Remus as a punishment for his fathers prejudice. - Fenrir 'positions himself close to victims' at the full moon. So even he doesn't have full control, but plans accordingly to ensure results. - Fenrir believes werewolves deserve blood for the treatment they have faced. (after seeing what Remus goes through - honestly, yeah.) These werewolf 'enclaves' seem cult-like: Fenrir's opinion is king. You aren't allowed to have contact with other people else you are shunned – and people are brought in young, raised with these beliefs. From this text we can also gather some personal facts about Fenrir: - He was likely an adult before he bit Remus – so he would be... 50, at the absolute youngest now. Probably more like 60, even 70. - He was a proud werewolf back then too – unless he was simply sick of the prejudice to the point of wanting others to suffer it. - He was not child-stealing yet. He left Remus with his parents. That is a more recent development. - No mention of others also positioning themselves to bite children, even on Fenrir's behalf - does he alone do it...? Fenrir Greyback, so far, seems like a driven and influential figure. A household name famed for his savagery and shocking ideals: A werewolf that takes pride in his Lycanthropy and will punish society for being so bigoted. 'If they think of us as monsters – then I'll be the monster they fear.'

Honestly? Punk as fuck. Grandpa's an icon.

Chapter 27

pg 500/501 “Jokes? No, no, these are manners,” replied Dumbledore. “Do it,” said the stranger standing nearest to Harry, a big, rangy man with matted gray hair and whiskers, whose black Death Eater’s robes looked uncomfortably tight. He had a voice like none that Harry had ever heard: a rasping bark of a voice. Harry could smell a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat, and, unmistakably, blood coming from him. His filthy hands had long yellowish nails. “Is that you, Fenrir?” asked Dumbledore. “That’s right,” rasped the other. “Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?” “No, I cannot say that I am.”Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely. “But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.” “Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual... You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?”“That’s right,” said Fenrir Greyback. “Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?”“Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little,” said Dumbledore. “And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live…”“I didn’t,” breathed Malfoy. He was not looking at Fenrir; he did not seem to want to even glance at him. “I didn’t know he was going to come —” “I wouldn’t want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore,” rasped Greyback. “Not when there are throats to be ripped out Delicious, delicious…”And he raised a yellow fingernail and picked at his front teeth, leering at Dumbledore. “I could do you for afters, Dumbledore.”

- Big, Rangy, Tight clothes (muscles?) - Matted grey hair and whiskers - Rasping voice; Unique and barking rasp - Smells of Dirt, Sweat and Blood - Pointed teeth; Yellow fingernails - Eats and enjoys blood. Obscenely – at least while being watched. - Wants to shock. - Enjoys human flesh, even outside the Full Moon. - Ripping out throats is 'delicious', young or old (young better) – could be playing it up to shock, but I think he's being honest. - Dumbledore regards him as disgusting – an 'obvious' danger to kids in a school. (he is right) - Draco, a pureblood, is ashamed of him. Disgusted. (he is right)- Draco was told Death Eaters would come, supposedly – so he didn't expect Fenrir to be included. In Draco's mind at the very least, Frenrir is a different classification despite being so closely involved. - Albus called pretty much everyone by their First Name - but there is a level of familiarity between them. I wonder if Albus taught him at Hogwarts before he was bitten? Or if have they just clashed before?

pg 502 “I’ll do it,” snarled Fenrir, moving toward Dumbledore with his hands outstretched, his teeth bared. “I said no!” shouted the brutal-faced man; there was a flash of light and the werewolf was blasted out of the way; he hit the ramparts and staggered, looking furious.

- Eager to kill, with his hands and teeth rather than a wand. - Warded off with a spell unharmed – just staggered and angered. - Non-werewolf Death Eater is someone he had to listen to.... but was allowed to feel angry with.

pg 505 As Harry plunged after them, one of the fighters detached themselves from the fray and flew at him: It was the werewolf, Fenrir. He was on top of Harry before Harry could raise his wand: Harry fell backward, with filthy matted hair in his face, the stench of sweat and blood filling his nose and mouth, hot greedy breath at his throat—“Petrificus Totalus!”Harry felt Fenrir collapse against him; with a stupendous effort he pushed the werewolf off and onto the floor as a jet of green light came flying toward him; he ducked and ran, headfirst, into the fight.

- Fast. Strong. Could knock Harry down. - Filthy matted hair; Stinky with blood but also sweat – he hasn't just had a long hard day of work, he doesn't bathe enough. - Greedy for Harry's throat. Yummy yummy. - Affected by Petrificus Totalus - Heavy. Probably because all of his muscles and massive balls.

~~~ DEATHLY HALLOWS

Chapter 23

pg 388/389 “Your boyfriend’s going to have worse than that done to him if he’s on my list,” said the horribly familiar, rasping voice. “Delicious girl... What a treat... I do enjoy the softness of the skin…” Harry’s stomach turned over. He knew who this was: Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who was permitted to wear Death Eater robes in return for his hired savagery.

- Soft skin is preferred for throat ripping. Probably young female skin – so its an mental thing rather than a physical, unless he also likes young male skin. Either way a fetish. - 'permitted to wear Death Eater robes' – he isn't a Death Eater. - The ability to 'wear Death Eater robes' is a transactional thing.

pg 389 “Now, let’s see who we’ve got,” said Greyback’s gloating voice from overhead, and Harry was rolled over onto his back. A beam of wandlight fell into his face and Greyback laughed. “I’ll be needing butterbeer to wash this one down. What happened to you, ugly?” Harry did not answer immediately. “I said,” repeated Greyback, and Harry received a blow to the diaphragm that made him double over in pain, “what happened to you?” pg 391 “It is you! If they find out who they’ve got –! They’re Snatchers, they’re only looking for truants to sell for gold –” “Not a bad little haul for one night,” Greyback was saying, as a pair of hobnailed boots marched close by Harry and they heard more crashes from inside the tent. “A Mudblood, a runaway goblin, and three truants. You checked their names on the list yet, Scabior?” he roared. “Yeah. There’s no Vernon Dudley on ‘ere, Greyback.” “Interesting,” said Greyback. “That’s interesting.”

He makes jokes about eating (or at least savaging) people. Ripping their throats. It's casual. He really likes what he does. But while Voldemort is offering a better life for werewolves (not hard), and Greyback himself is allowed to 'wear Death Eater robes' for his influence and services, invited to events like the murder of Dumbledore... he is still just a snatcher, scraping vagrants for cash.

He crouched down beside Harry, who saw, through the infinitesimal gap left between his swollen eyelids, a face covered in matted gray hair and whiskers, with pointed brown teeth and sores at the corners of his mouth. Greyback smelled as he had done at the top of the tower where Dumbledore had died: of dirt, sweat, and blood.

His face has matted grey hair; Whiskers; Pointed teeth are brown; sores at the corners of his mouth (probably from opening wide to rip throats – maybe also some poor mouth hygiene). Dirt added to his smell along with sweat and blood.

pg 392 “Well, well,” said Greyback, and Harry could hear the tiniest note of trepidation in that callous voice, and knew that Greyback was wondering whether he had indeed just attacked and bound the son of a Ministry official. Harry’s heart was pounding against the ropes around his ribs; he would not have been surprised to know that Greyback could see it.

Huh...? See his heart pounding? Is this 'see his fear' – or literally see his heart...? I don't wanna sound dumb, taking something too seriously – but with all the blood-love and the animal themes and magical curse stuff I don't wanna ignore the possibility completely. I'll just mostly ignore it.

More importantly: Despite 'wearing Death Eater robes' and all that – he is worried he may have attacked a Ministry official's son. Would the other Death Eaters present at Dumbledores murder give a shit about that, while trying to do their job...? I doubt it. Fenrir is a strong, proud man with some higher level of permissions and respect: and yet he has reason to fear small mistakes like 'Snatching a Ministry officials' wayward, rulebreaking son'.

pg 393 “What’s that on your forehead, Vernon?” he asked softly, his breath foul in Harry’s nostrils as he pressed a filthy finger to the taut scar. pg 394 “To hell with the Ministry,” growled Greyback. “They’ll take the credit, and we won’t get a look in. I say we take him straight to You-Know-Who.”“Will you summon ‘im? ‘ere?” said Scabior, sounding awed, terrified.“No,” snarled Greyback, “I haven’t got – they say he’s using the Malfoys’ place as a base. We’ll take the boy there.” Harry thought he knew why Greyback was not calling Voldemort. The werewolf might be allowed to wear Death Eater robes when they wanted to use him, but only Voldemort’s inner circle were branded with the Dark Mark: Greyback had not been granted this highest honor.

...He hasn't told his Snatcher crew he isn't a Death Eater proper. That he doesn't have the mark. He hasn't told them. Scabior is awed that Voldemort might be called there, right then, by Fenrir Greyback the Werewolf... but he can't do it, and he doesn't wanna say he can't. Bless.

Note that the Ministry, full of Voldemort's people, will not respect Fenrir Greyback. The fact he is worried about their credit being successfully taken means Voldemort won't respect his word either. Rewarding Fenrir appropriately for his high service is unimportant.

“... completely sure it’s him? ‘Cause if it ain’t, Greyback, we’re dead.”“Who’s in charge here?” roared Greyback, covering his moment of inadequacy. “I say that’s Potter, and him plus his wand, that’s two hundred thousand Galleons right there! But if you’re too gutless to come along, any of you, it’s all for me, and with any luck, I’ll get the girl thrown in!”

Fenrir values his authority and power. He won't accept anyone underneath him questioning him, and he will claw at any foothold he has to gain more respect... even if it means hiding the truth. But I want to point out his language to his underlings: He is inclusive. 'They'll take the credit, and WE don't get a look in.''WE'LL take the boy there.''If YOU'RE too gutless to come along, ANY of you, it's all for me'He might be the one in charge – but they will ALL benefit. He is jeering about taking the spoils for himself as a rallying cry, encouraging others to come with him rather than let him have it all.

They are scared of being punished for failure, but even though he would also be punished if they are wrong: he wants everyone he works with to benefit and he is willing to take that risk. No wonder people follow him as a leader.

pg 395 “Grab hold and make it tight. I’ll do Potter!” said Greyback, seizing a fistful of Harry’s hair; Harry could feel his long yellow nails scratching his scalp. “On three! One – two – three –” They Disapparated, pulling the prisoners with them.

His yellow nails are also long. Nice.

pg 396 “What is this?” said a woman’s cold voice. “We’re here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” rasped Greyback.“Who are you?”“You know me!” There was resentment in the werewolf’s voice. “Fenrir Greyback! We’ve caught Harry Potter!”

These little shits. 'Who are you' fuck off, as if you could mistake Fenrir's rasping. The sheer lack of respect, for someone so loyal and hardworking... because he is a werewolf.

pg 398 “But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!” Harry had never heard Lucius Malfoy so excited. “Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv –” “Now, we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?” said Greyback menacingly.“Of course not, of course not!” said Lucius impatiently.

Growling over his hunt... I don't blame him, he has a lot to lose and, in his mind at least - a lot to gain. Not that Voldemort or the Death Eaters will ever give him any respect, even for catching Harry. He speaks extremely politely to Lucius – and Lucius is... polite enough back. Even if he isn't respected and they crack jokes at his expense... it seems they don't regard him like utter shit. He will get his name on this job... probably.

pg 400 “You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!” “This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy –” “Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy,” interjected Greyback, “but it’s us that caught Potter, and it’s us that’ll be claiming the gold –” “Gold!” laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. “Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his – of –”

Fenrir is so damn polite to the Death Eaters, even to Lucius – who doesn't have a wand. He ranks under them all. He is also still referring to himself as 'us'. Even now his group of Snatchers will share the rewards, though he could pull rank and take everything himself. Potter is a damn good prize but he truly wants to benefit everyone – even though they don't seem to be werewolves. He isn't so much anti-wizard as he is anti-ruling-class. The downtrodden are his people.

pg 400/401 “Sword,” grunted an out-of-sight Snatcher. “Give it to me.” “It’s not yorn, missus, it’s mine, I reckon I found it.” There was a bang and a flash of red light: Harry knew that the Snatcher had been Stunned. There was a roar of anger from his fellows: Scabior drew his wand. “What d’you think you’re playing at, woman?” “Stupefy!” she screamed. “Stupefy!” They were no match for her, even though there were four of them against one of her: She was a witch, as Harry knew, with prodigious skill and no conscience. They fell where they stood, all except Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position, his arms outstretched. Out of the corners of his eyes Harry saw Bellatrix bearing down upon the werewolf, the sword of Gryffindor gripped tightly in her hand, her face waxen. “Where did you get this sword?” she whispered to Greyback as she pulled his wand out of his unresisting grip.“How dare you?” he snarled, his mouth the only thing that could move as he was forced to gaze up at her. He bared his pointed teeth. “Release me, woman!” “Where did you find this sword?” she repeated, brandishing it in his face. “Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!” “It was in their tent,” rasped Greyback. “Release me, I say!” She waved her wand, and the werewolf sprang to his feet, but appeared too wary to approach her. He prowled behind an armchair, his filthy curved nails clutching its back.

His long, yellow nails are also filthy and curved. He prowls when wary and defeated. He snarls and bares his teeth. Bellatrix' Stupefy's were enough to knock down the other Snatchers completely – but reduce Greyback to his knees. It is possible she was going easy on him so he could talk. Greyback has enough standing with the Death Eaters to talk back to a high-ranking member when he feels slighted. He isn't forced to be entirely passive: allowed to bark and snap.

pg 402 “If she dies under questioning, I’ll take you next,” she said. “Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them – yet.” She threw Greyback’s wand back to him, then took a short silver knife from under her robes. She cut Hermione free from the other prisoners, then dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room, while Greyback forced the rest of them to shuffle across to another door, into a dark passageway, his wand held out in front of him, projecting an invisible and irresistible force.“Reckon she’ll let me have a bit of the girl when she’s finished with her?” Greyback crooned as he forced them along the corridor. “I’d say I’ll get a bite or two, wouldn’t you, ginger?” Harry could feel Ron shaking. They were forced down a steep flight of stairs, still tied back-to-back and in danger of slipping and breaking their necks at any moment. At the bottom was a heavy door. Greyback unlocked it with a tap of his wand, then forced them into a dank and musty room and left them in total darkness.

Bellatrix definitely outranks him, no big surprise there – and despite his recent tone trusts him with his wand, which he is skilled enough with to cast multiple wordless, even movement-less spells. Fenrir once again living his best life: enjoying shocking people with his savagery and enjoying the idea of soft young girly skin. Lovely.

He mentions getting a bite or two – I find it interesting that he doesn't seem to want to 'eat' people or tear them to pieces. He wants to take bites. This lines up with what we know about werewolves rarely killing people, instead trying to infect them and have them survive. Now – I don't doubt he mainly kills people in his human form: He likes to rip throats. But I wonder if the 'bite or two' comment is literal, rather than being funny: He enjoys biting but leaving them whole. A werewolf instinct, that tells them to 'stop' after a little damage. We know an instinct for blood and raw flesh leaks through to the human form...

pg 410 “Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight.”

He gets treat for being such a good boy :) Yippee! Do they hold off on giving him treats...? This, and how hopeful he is, suggests they don't give him treats often. 'He won't begrudge you the girl' he caught Harry fucking Potter and all he can hope for is to bite the girl – rather than like... be accepted as a real Death Eater.

pg 411 As Ron ran to pull Hermione out of the wreckage, Harry took his chance: He leapt over an armchair and wrested the three wands from Draco’s grip, pointed all of them at Greyback, and yelled, “Stupefy!” The werewolf was lifted off his feet by the triple spell, flew up to the ceiling, and then smashed to the ground.

So he wasn't hit as hard by a single Bellatrix stupefy – but three wrong-wand Harry Stupefy's... I'm recording these to try and get a grasp on how sturdy he is, but it's unclear lol.

Chapter 32

pg 555 Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as they reached the ground, and a gray blur that Harry took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen.“NO!” shrieked Hermione, and with a deafening blast from her wand, Fenrir Greyback was thrown backward from the feebly stirring body of Lavender Brown. He hit the marble banisters and struggled to return to his feet. Then, with a bright white flash and a crack, a crystal ball fell on top of his head, and he crumpled to the ground and did not move.

Moves like an animal, on all fours – despite it not being a full moon. More confirmation that he is unafraid to sink his brown pointed teeth into people non-transformed. especially a 'delicious' young girl with soft skin. Blown back by a single spell, as we have seen before, but was able to move and be angry afterwards. Crystal Ball took him out... but I feel like that'd kill most regular people? I know Wizards are hardier than Muggles but jesus christ he's hardly getting much medical attention out there

Chapter 33

pg 586 “You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation,” said Dumbledore. “I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year’s league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved – I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.”

I'm sure Dumbledore being an icon for equality and hope and compassion would make up for him not having soft young girl skin on his throat. Isn't that Ron's favourite team? Albus you're savage

Chapter 34

pg 602 Harry saw Fenrir, skulking, chewing his long nails;

He is nervous at the non-arrival of Harry. At Voldemort's potential reaction to it. Fair enough – but if he was going to lash out I'm sure Greyback would be one of the first picks.

Chapter 36

pg 630 He saw Ron and Neville bringing down Fenrir Greyback,

R.I.P. Stinky, you were iconic.

~~~ SUMMARY OF THIS PART:

Fenrir Greyback is extremely identifiable as a werewolf, even when not transformed: Filthy matted grey hair - even on his face, with whiskers. His teeth are brown and pointed, sores at the corners of his mouth - probably from ripping throats. Long, curved, yellowed fingernails that are as dirty as the rest of him. Stinking of sweat, blood and dirt. His voice is a unique rasping bark. He snarls and bares his teeth when angry, prowls when wary - skulks when afraid.

He is fast and strong, running out of the fray to knock Harry down and go for his throat. He can move like an animal on all fours, fast enough to look like a grey blur. As he was most likely an adult when he bit Remus - that puts his age at at least 50 now, probably older... yet he is agile, rangy, big, strong - and heavy. I'd say due to muscles.

Basic stunning spells stagger him but just make him angrier. Spells that had 'regular' people down-for-the-count forced him to his knees, but he kept his rage and his sobriety. Petrificus Totalus worked on him - but it's unclear for how long. Three Stupefy's from three wands Harry was holding was enough to throw him against the ceiling. A crystal ball to the head knocked him out - but didn't kill him. He was awake and well hours later.

This all suggests he could be a little hardier to magic than the average wizard, but whether its due to Lycanthropy or the fact he is a badass is unclear. He is a decent Wizard himself: skilled enough with to cast multiple wordless, even movement-less spells.

It is possible he can 'see' or 'sense' people's hearts pounding, related to his love of blood... but likely not.It's also possible that his werewolf instincts to only bite their prey to infect, leaving them alive, leaks into his non-transformed desire to rip and maul. That is also unclear.

What is clear, however, is Fenrir's pride as a werewolf.

Fenrir Greyback is a household name: 'the most savage werewolf alive.' It is obscene how much he loves blood. How much he enjoys shocking people with his brutality. He threatens and cracks jokes about ripping out throats, about his preference for biting delicious, soft, young girl skin. But he isn't too picky. He will tear out anyone's throat, with pleasure. Eager to kill with his teeth over his wand. It's not a bluff to scare: it's a promise. Albus regards him as disgusting, an obvious danger to the school.

He enjoys human flesh even outside of the Full Moon, relishing it like a fetish. Even Albus' throat, despite being the opposite of a young girl... though the fact he was an icon for equality, hope and compassion probably sweetened the deal.

Because Fenrir isn't just doing this for self gratification. His pride runs deeper than his fur.

He believes werewolves deserve blood for the treatment they have faced by Wizarding society. They are all Wizards and Witches, after all... but we know that they are hardly classified or treated as such. Segregated, called 'Half-Breeds', treated as monsters - disallowed from school or most jobs. Most werewolves live 'almost literally underground' - so far away from society that they rarely have contact. They struggle to survive, stealing and even killing just to eat. It's very likely most of them are uneducated, both due to not being able to attend Hogwarts - and perhaps Greyback's own actions, having them raised with other uneducated werewolves.

His word is law amongst Werewolves. He is highly respected and loyally followed. He is a leader. If he says Voldemort can give them a better life by restructuring Wizarding society - they believe him.

Like a cult: werewolves shun even other werewolves that have grown up amongst Wizarding society. Sending letters to family or friends is a 'giveaway' - merely having grown up outside of werewolf communes a red flag. It's likely most of them have grown up separated from Wizarding society after all, as part of Fenrir's plans:

He carefully plans and positions himself close to victims before the Full Moon - intending to bite children, even if he doesn't have full control. The child is raised away from their parents, amongst 'their own kind'... to one day have enough werewolves in the world to overtake Wizarding society. (There is no mention of other werewolves assisting in this goal - Is he highly selective? Or is nobody else as adept at being a werewolf...?)

He didn't always do it - Remus was bitten 30 or so years ago as a form of punishment for his father's bigotry to werewolves, and he was left with his family. Back then Greyback wasn't a household name. This plan to raise a cult-army of werewolves is a more recent development. But Greyback isn't doing it to be cruel, or make himself a king:

He is pack-minded.

He enjoys being top-dog and giving orders but he has the well-being of his underlings on his mind. When he has glory, riches and standing to gain - he willingly encourages those who look up to him to benefit from the boon, too. He hypes them up. He doesn't expect them to walk into any danger he himself wouldn't walk beside them for.

Even when they aren't werewolves. It seems he isn't so much anti-Wizard as he is anti-ruling-class... until the ruling class are werewolves, anyway. But for now the downtrodden are his people.

However he didn't tell the Snatchers he didn't have a Dark Mark. He kept that hidden, acted like he did have one. Does he suspect they will lose respect for him as a werewolf if he isn't marked? Or is he embarrassed? Either way - he does enjoy his authority over them, though doesn't abuse it.

Unlike the Death Eaters treatment of him.

Voldemort supplies him with prime prey - the children of those who defy him, perhaps some others to tear apart - in return for his unique services. He is 'permitted to wear Death Eater robes' to serve Voldemort well. He is invited as muscle to events as high-status and prestigious as the murder of Dumbledore.

But he is not a Death Eater. He doesn't have a mark.

Which seems a little ridiculous considering the fact he has an army of werewolves loyal to him and thus Voldemort. ...but he is just kept as a Snatcher, scraping for cash. Worrying about getting 'good hauls'... He worries about things like tying up a Ministry Official's wayward, rule-breaking son while doing his job. He growls protectively over his hunts. He expects credit for catching Potter to be stolen... which means Voldemort won't listen to him. He can plea and be ignored.

The Death Eaters will never give him real respect. He is told, after catching Potter, his wand, his friends, the Sword of griffindor... that the Dark Lord 'won't begrudge him the girl'. For anyone else such a deed would get them a mark. He is a dog to them.

Draco won't look at him. He was told Death Eaters would come when he killed Dumbledore - he didn't expect Greyback to be there. Lucius, even without his wand, ranks higher than him. They crack jokes at his expense, saying 'Who?' when he asks for entry - and he takes it. He accepts it and speaks to them with high respect. The best they speak to him back is with basic politeness.

He isn't a complete bitch. He is allowed to get angry, to snap, to stand up for himself. But he is seen as a 'filthy scavenger'. He isn't part of them. A different 'animal', with different needs and ideals... a tool. A trusted tool, sure - Bellatrix gives him back his wand even after he has talked back to her - but he is the bottom of the pecking order no matter what he is, says or does. When Harry didn't show up to be killed by Voldemort he was skulking. Biting his nails. Nervous. I'm sure if the Dark Lord lashed out... he would probably be the first to feel his wrath.

#hp #hp meta #fenrir greyback #lycanthropy

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sunjaesol · 1 year ago

Text

now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

zutara | outsider pov (aang) | post-southern raiders | one shot |

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Aang didn't know when it all changed. Which, frankly, wasn't entirely his fault. As the Avatar, his attention was and should be centered towards mastering his bending and, consequently, defeating the Fire Lord. The latter with quiet dismay, but nonetheless: he didn't have time for distractions… even when he loved them so.

But he hadn't seen Katara and Zuko coming. Not one bit.

He intrinsically knew Katara hated him up until their mission to avenge her mother — something he still felt sick to his stomach thinking about — and saw her forgiving him on the docks. It all happened right under his nose! And yet!

One moment he performed hot squats and built elaborate sand castles with Toph, the next he turned around the corner of the Fire Lord's Beach house and found the two sitting cross-legged opposite of another. Zuko held a plant between his fingers as he spoke. Katara inspected it critically, her eyes flicking between the herb and the boy with tender patience.

It knocked Aang off balance.

On the one hand, his altruistic side, he was happy the two benders finally got along. They were a team — Team Avatar, as Sokka would proclaim — and they needed to be a strong unit if they wanted to have a chance at ending the war. Aang knew that.

But on the other hand… since when did Katara voluntarily spend time with Zuko. Wouldn't she want to spend time with him? Aang deserved some of her allotted time, right?

Tentatively stepping closer, the two looked up from their conversation and Katara smiled first. “Zukoʼs been teaching me about herbs native to the Fire Nation.” She plucked the herb from Zukoʼs fingers. “This is saffron, you should smell it!”

“I'm good,” Aang weakly countered. “Uh… I'm gonna find Sokka. D'you know where he is?”

“The city,” Zuko responded. He looked totally unbothered by it all, a stark contrast to Aang's current frenzied spirit. “He and Suki are trying to find the perfect mango, or something.”

“Suki and him,” Katara corrected. A gleam in her eye pushed her to rib— “What, don't tell me the education system of the Fire Nation is lacking as well?”

A tick of a smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah, maybe. Too busy with shoving propaganda down our throats, I think.”

Katara laughed. Aang frowned. Zuko was many things, but a comedian wasn't one of them; it wasn't even a joke to begin with. Pushing the bitterness down his throat as though sucking on a frozen frog, he left the two behind and jogged down to the beach to sit with Toph. He'd wait for Sokka there.

The next instances took a few subtle cues for him to catch it. During dinner, they sat next to each other. While he sparred with Toph beneath the burning afternoon sun, they sought solace under the cool awning washing dishes or scrubbing clothes clean. Whenever Zuko dared anyone to a game of Pai Cho, Katara offered herself almost immediately despite her terrible track record. When an argument angered Katara to the point of storming away, Sokka's eyes organically slid to Zuko, waiting for him to make a move.

He'd never done that to Aang, that look, and it made him feel so incredibly, awfully juvenile.

What skills did Zuko possess that Aang didn't? He knew Katara way longer than he did, understood her better, and had seen her in more situations than he could count. Zuko just got here. Though Aang was fond of him, it left an ire sting travelling up and down his spine. Spirits! What was going on?!

Then the play threw all his worst fears on stage: Zuko and Katara, personified by the Ember Island Players, holding hands and proclaiming their love and totally disregarding the fact that Aang and Katara had history and chemistry and that he loved her! Their mocking of the term "Avatar's girl" made his stomach churn, so much so that he didn't notice the real (and mortified) Zuko and Katara shifting inches away from each other.

Had he seen, maybe he wouldn't have tried to kiss her during intermission. Maybe he wouldn't have felt the desperate need to prove himself to the girl; that he was right here and actively loving her and why was she so confused about it?

Had he seen, maybe he wouldn't have pushed the two towards each other later that even. While he sulked in the corner of the living room, sprawled across a recliner as he listened to Toph gloat about her character, Zuko and Katara had slipped away. Unbeknownst to him, though his heart quickened and clenched (something akin heartache) when he did realise.

Jumping upright, he ignored Toph's shout that he should sit and listen, and turned into the dark corridor that held their bedrooms.

Knocking on Katara's, no sound came. His head popped around the corner of the sliding door and saw the room was empty. Her bed tidy, her clothes folded on a chair, no litter on the floor — a complete 180 to Aang's room.

Oh, no. His eyes widened in horror. Behind his eyelids, the vision of the Players struck closer to reality than he thought. Taking a steadying breath, he trailed to the end of the hallway and, against better judgment, pressed his ear to the door.

And there it was: the soft chime of Zuko's laugh, the murmur of Katara's voice.

His hand raised to knock, but before he could or flee, it smoothly slid open.

Katara looked down at him, worried. “Everything okay, Aang? I felt you standing there.”

A seed of hope bloomed in his chest. “You felt me?”

A wry smile ticked up her lips as a finger curled around a dark lock of hair. “Yeah, it's the full moon, so it's kind of hard to miss. So?”

“Y-yeah, I'm okay. I was just, uh, looking for you. To, uh…”

What was he doing here? Just a couple hours ago, Katara had rejected him and this didn't help! Zuko had the decency to look bashful, however, the boy seated on the rug with a cup of tea unable to quite look him in the eye. At least the firebender seemed aware that Katara, despite the debauchery of the Ember Island Players, was his girl, not Zuko's.

But if he was aware, that didn't explain why they sat in private. What could they possibly talk about that the group wouldn't understand?

Aside from the tea, a handful of books covered the floor. A lit candle stood on his night stand. Too romantic for his taste.

And so he blurted— “Why're you in Zuko's room?”

Her expression soured. “To talk. Do you have a problem with that?”

The boys finally locked eyes. Golden irises blinked at him, earnest and merciful, though Aang knew he had no ground right now. If he went insane over them drinking tea, then she wouldn't speak to him until the Comet.

“No,” he puffed. “No. It— when can I talk to you?”

“Tomorrow,” she replied, curt.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Aang.”

He nodded. “Goodnight Katara. Goodnight Zuko.”

As the door of opportunities slimmed, the last split second showed the resurgence of Zuko's smile, a kind he hadn't seen before, and only reserved for Katara. His Katara.

A part of him died on that threshold that night. It smelled like naivité and tasted bitter.

The next day, he apologised to Katara for kissing her and she accepted, though kept her distance.

The group didn't feel off because of it. Everything ran smoothly, as usual; Toph erupted cities out of sand and roughhoused Sokka in the mud, Suki practiced hand to hand combat in the atrium and scoured the regal bedrooms for fashion, Katara did her duties and lounged around the ocean, as did Zuko, though he preferred the courtyard for his bending. Aang was the only one feeling unmoored. At least he had Momo to commiserate with.

Despite the Comet's looming arrival, the days were long and the teenagers needed time off as well. One couldn't train from sunrise to sundown. He learned that the hard way.

Rare moments like these reminded them of their youth, so really, it wasn't weird that Katara tapped Zuko with a water whip as she cackled out her magical laugh, but it did surprise Aang. He thought that when he apologised, she'd act playful towards him again, but… she didn't.

Sokka and Toph gawked in surprise at the action, but what took the cake was Zukoʼs smile as he launched himself from the courtyard onto the beach — feet thudding hard into the sand — and began sparring with Katara on the shore.

Scratch that: he couldn't call it sparring. It was playfighting. It was what Sokka and Suki often did.

Zuko liked Katara. The realisation thundered as an earthquake through his lithe body. It was so obvious now! Why else did the firebender behave so differently towards her? But how in the monkey feathers could Katara like him back? Zuko redeemed himself, sure, and he was now part of the group, but…

Aang faltered. He couldn't come up with a reason. Zuko was a child of war just as much as they all were. Maybe even more than Aang. He technically stood at 112, as opposed to Katara's fifteen and Zuko's seventeen. That made him pause.

Was that it? Did he lack a sense of humanity that Zuko possessed? Although, the Avatar defined humanity and led by example, so shouldn't he be the perfect person?

Maybe it was a phase, Aang supposed. Just like her lapse into anger when she travelled to the Southern Raiders, this too would pass and she'd see Aang belonged with her.

But what could he do about Zuko? From experience, Aang knew it was tough to not like Katara.

Oh! But if that angry knife-throwing girl got out of prison, then Zuko would turn to her again! Genius! Another incentive to win this war.

“How cute!” Suki cooed. He hadn't noticed her coming.

Aang scowled, “They're fighting.”

“They're having fun,” Suki countered, waving at a buried-in-the-sand Sokka. Toph smacked his cheek. Then Suki smiled down at him. “You should do something relaxing, too, Aang. Savour it while you can!”

The nail in the coffin happened three weeks later when the doom of Sozin's Comet lurked around the corner. In less than five days, the Fire Lord and him had to fight to the death; a death he didn't wish upon anyone. His group was furious with him for his stance, but Aang refused to budge his entire belief system for the definite solution of killing someone.

Katara had fallen quiet then. Hope bleeding out her eyes and left to seep into the soil, no longer in her heart and chi. He knew he hurt her with this. And still. There had to be another way to defeat the Fire Lord.

Right before he went to sleep, restless and keyed up, he stopped by Katara's door. Soundless, he slid it open just a crack, only to feel his stomach gutted out his body.

Zuko and Katara: hugging.

Not the quick embrace she'd previously given him, a real hug. One where Zuko's arm wrapped around her with no space left, one where Katara clung to him as though spirit water laced his veins. Her head tucked beneath his chin, their eyes closed yet content, his hand rubbing smooth circles on her lower back.

"Monkey feathers," he exhaled.

The two didn't jump apart like he expected, nor did Zuko flush red or dodge any repercussions by fleeing out the room. Their eyes cracked open and they stayed.

“Have you changed your mind about killing my father?” Zuko rasped.

Aang shook his head, blood pounding in his ears making it difficult to hear or breathe or think. Katara liked him too… more than she liked me.

“Katara?” he whispered.

Her eyes welled with unshed, shimmering tears. Remorse thickened her voice. “I'm sorry, Aang. I can't support you on this one. I just can't.”

Before he could save any semblance of a relationship, she burrowed herself back into Zuko's tight embrace. It looked unnatural, inhumane, it should be him.

And then he vanished.

#zutara #atla fanfiction

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alatismeni-theitsa · 4 months ago

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Γεια Θείτσα!! Ευχαριστώ για blog σου! It’s kind of sad but many of my older family members are very disrespectful toward Roma people. Like they constantly throw around slurs (I understand now that G***s’y is a slur for aroma people) with the intention of insulting someone, and when we visit family in Greece, they constantly tell me to watch out for them because “they steal things.”I’m sorry if this is an uncomfortable topic or if there’s unrest/controversy around anti-Roma sentiment in Greece. I’m very out of the loop on Greek politics, so feel free to not answer this if you don’t want to. Anyways, my question is: how prevalent would you say, from your experience, is anti-Roma sentiment in Greece? Also, sorry if you’ve already answered this question, feel free to refer me to a tag or another post if that’s the case!

Hello! This is controversial for Tumblr (not for Greek residents, they know what's up) but if we stopped talking about every controversial issue then we wouldn't improve shit, would we?

I want to be 100% realistic here, so I will explain stuff as directly as possible. I'd like you to understand the reason behind the bigotry, and I want you to understand the situation beyond "oooo g*ies steaal". You can't argue for a situation you don't know and the other side (your older relatives) will dismiss your arguments because they will know you don't know.

Naturally, I will mention some negative things some Roma do. It might be convenient for us to remain cuddled and ignore reality while living a more privileged life but this actually won't push us or anyone else to resolve these social issues. Besides, all the things I will mention are things that many Roma speak about, too, because they are aware that what other Roma do affects their own future as well.

Also this is about Roma in Greece and the specific situation in Greece. I ask for people from other countries to not make assumptions on this post about the country if they cannot back them up with experience or local knowledge.

When one speaks about issues in the Roma community it's important how and why they do it. If they do it to insinuate that all Roma people are bad and that they steal, then yes it's an issue. There's also the informative approach, which I will take. I have lived next to and near Roma families, as have some of my friends, and on the street, I had various interactions with them. I have seen firsthand the positive stuff and the issues, and almost everything I will mention here is what I've seen with my own eyes.

To be clear, this blog supports the Roma struggle and the Roma Uprising as the call of "Opre Roma!" describes it. The Roma (or Tsiganoi, as they most often call themselves in Greece) should have the right to education and social acceptance without needing to leave their culture behind. I have the tags #Roma and #Romani if you want to take a look at related posts.

By the way, "Tsiganos/-a" (Τσιγγάνος / -να) is also acceptable for the Roma in 2024 from this year's articles I've read and the Roma videos I've watched. Roma from other countries don't like this word too much, and I get why (it is because the Roma come from the "Untouchable" Caste of North India which is a history of bigotry in itself, and Tsiganos comes from the Greek for "Untouchable"). But each country and Roma community is different. It's not a slur afaik. But if you meet one, it is best to ask them what they'd like to be called because the landscape can shift.

To get the negative stuff out of the way, and then there will be good stuff.

First of all, some context. Traditionally Roma in Greece were involved in various trades but they always lived in their own community in the outskirts of some Greek villages. Of course, people of the same nationality, like the Greeks and the Slavs and the Hebrews and the Turks, usually lived in their own sub-area of a village. But the Roma were a bit more isolated.

The history of isolation goes centuries back because there was a constant self-sustained loop of the Roma being very Roma community-oriented and the outside world seeing them as foreigners. However, in older times, the Roma earned a living by doing all types of hard work more or less in sync with other nationalities and also collecting scrap. The bigotry was there but - at least from what I read - not in an intense way. It was more like "This is a Greek, this is an Albanian".

Unfortunately, in the modern age, most types of jobs they did became obsolete and poverty hit their communities. The old ostracization made it very difficult for them to sustain an income in the new era. In cases of such great poverty, it was sometimes considered acceptable to take from balamoi/gadje/"white people", precisely because of this imbalance of resources and the inherent cruelty of the balamoi towards them. (I mean, who wouldn't do anything to feed their own children?) Some of those attitudes have stuck until our days. Acquiring resources is very important for numerous Roma nowadays and sometimes these resources are not always taken legally.

So, yes, there are Roma in Greece who steal things. Yes, there are Roma parents use their babies and kids on the street to earn money (the babies are used for pity points while the mothers beg, the kids usually beg for money. (Once my aunt saw a baby that didn't look... alive on a Roma woman's bosom). This shows the desperate measures some Roma will resort to acquiring resources (sometimes it's not about survival, just acquisition) but it's also very systematic and it's considered like an "occupation" that brings resources.

Yes, there are a few Roma settlements like ghettos where the police are afraid to go, and there are drug networks and gangs. Yes, a friend had his bicycle stolen by Roma and he saw Roma frequently take the flowers he left on his uncle's grave. Yes, in Athens and Thessaloniki there are Roma markets with goods of... unspecified origin that I have strolled by. These goods were sold all together, and a stand could have album photos of non-Roma families, one pair of wedding crowns (stefana), and other unrelated objects found inside a house and unfortunately, they didn't look like they were taken from the trash. But since people throw all sorts of things away one could speculate that a good amount of those items were just taken off the trash - I, at least, hope so.

I cannot speak to how many Roma are involved in questionable acts but it is a noticeable amount that exists close to them. I suppose it was worse in the old times, or at least the prejudice against Roma was more intense back then and that's why your family believes that it's better to guard yourself in case you meet a Roma on the streets of Greece who wants to sell you something. But I have the sense they do it out of the "stranger danger" mindset (because Roma communities are separated from the rest) and because they learned to hate this group of people with a dangerous intensity.

All people are innocent until proven otherwise and I know for sure that your family cannot prove this unfair generalization about all Roma. They cannot even prove it for the Roma who approach them on the street. Many Roma in Greece "don't look" Roma (aka they don't dress like, or don't braid their hair the Roma way, similar to the traditional NW Indian ways). So Greeks don't "clock" them, and that's why they cannot claim they have a good idea of Roma demographics.

Besides, the biggest Thieves of this country are our politicians, our mafia bosses, our powerful businessmen. They steal millions each year and most of them are Greek. If I started counting the times Greeks have stolen stuff (big and small) we would be here for the next 100 years.

There are various programs for helping Roma families by the Greek state and some private organizations but I feel like the anti-Romani sentiment in Greece is still strong. As you can imagine, the negative sightings a Greek resident can have from Roma on the street can cause many prejudices to build. But of course, there are always two sides.

An ostracised community has various problems and these problems make the others ostracise them even more. Many Roma have found themselves in this unfortunate situation. Greeks rarely give Roma chances so they can improve their social and financial standing. Not to mention, due to all that exterior distrust, some Roma communities remain in their shell and can get defensive toward outsiders - because nobody else will defend them. But this defending behaviour can go out of hand and hurt other citizens (with bullets) who start to see the Roma community even less favourably.

But as I said this super defensive behaviour and pack mentality exists because the state - and the police - won't protect the Roma. Instead, many times they enact extreme violence against them, and then some Roma groups answer with more criminal behaviour. Today it's a chicken and egg situation in terms of who dislikes who, although it is clear that the persecuted side is the Roma people.

One recent example of anti-Roma sentiment is when a 16-year-old Roma stole a car and the police thought it good to shoot him in the head - which killed him. Is a bullet to the head - murder - a proper "punishment" for a teen stealing a car?? And, of course, the policemen were punished very lightly for killing a person, a teen! Roma lives are not seen as important as the rest by the Greek society, the media, the police. But Roma lives are often the most vulnerable on the streets.

I focused on the negative stuff so far to explain the situation but I don't want to end this post without positive examples for a people who have struggled so much.

Roma people work very hard and they will do their very best with the hand they've been dealt in life. They do difficult and low-paying jobs which often have the most risk. They are the powerhouse behind festivals and folk entertainment (e.g. panygyria). They will work the fields and they will gather (and at times sell) crops. If they are not particularly skilled in a trade, they will do simpler things like selling balloons and flowers on the street or offering fortune-telling services.

I admire the zeal with which many Roma want to improve their situation. The struggles might hit them hard but they never give up. Contrary to the gloomy image presented before, many Roma live in peaceful and happy settlements, they have a decent fortune and big houses where they host dancing parties and enjoy family moments with their kids. Their festivities are grand and their music - which often has lyrics that reflect their generational struggles - is sent from the heavens. (Greeks love it and they have incorporated musical elements of it in their own folk music)

Their language is ancient with great significance and very interesting variations even within the Greek borders. Apart from being resilient, they can also be very open, sharing their customs and language online for all to learn - from TikTok to the stage of the Stavros Niarhos foundation. They are very aware of the biases against them and as always they face difficulties with their head high and a healthy dose of humor. A Roma man joked the other day on TikTok "Why does a Tsiganos cry when they watch the Titanic? Because he sees all this metal wasted!" (Many Roma gather and sell scrap metal for a living)

Okay, I think that's it!

I am sorry but I don't want to shy away from the crimes and the difficulties like the Americans who only know how to say "Greece has an anti-Romani sentiment problem", as if the issue can be resolved with good wishes and stardust and doesn't have a complex past and present - which they don't care to learn. They only know how to parrot stuff from textbooks and they couldn't start a normal conversation with a Roma in a million years.

Oh, and if I see ONE disingenuous fuck say stuff like "You say that some Roma steal so you enhance the anti-Roma sentiments" I'm gonna block this shit. Congrats, you earned your White Knight online badge of the day but the problem still exists and ofc you are not going to do anything about it. Greek Roma themselves try to tackle thievery and begging practices (which is the reason why many Roma kids don't attend school) and corruption and abuse within their own communities but I am expected to conceal this when online, and pretend that all is rainbows and roses?

#answered #Greek Roma

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feybeasts · 1 year ago

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“This doesn’t matter” is one of the most misunderstood coping statements in the English language. Co-opted by dimestore nihilists to throw up their hands in defeat, by pessimistic souses to throw things they cannot or do not wish to understand into the same pile of meaninglessness, it has become the stock phrase of the bitter, the feckless, the jaded.

But what if I told you such definitions are inherently wrongheaded? What if I told you that “This doesn’t matter” is, in fact, a phrase that can help organize your thoughts, quiet your fears, help you live with a world that is often loud and distressingly complex?

You see, it comes down to one of the peculiarities of the human mind. This particular peculiarity, both in the lives of the neurotypical and in my particularly frustrating autistic brain, is such; we like to define things.

No, that’s not too strong a statement- we NEED to define things, at least, that’s what our pattern-seeking lizard brainstems tell us. Everything must be understood, categorized, sorted and solved. There can BE no unanswered questions, there can BE no open statements. Either something is solved, or it’s an aggravating and stressful mystery, and it is in the latter case that, I hope, I can help to enlighten you to the great value in “this doesn’t matter”.

To give an example for our means- there’s a good post out there showing a map of the world where the south pole is up top. Now, for those of you who have been through the public education system in the US, I think you can feel the immediate thought that springs into your head on hearing that- “well, THAT isn’t right! The north is up!”

I know some of you, however- let’s be real, this is Tumblr- MOST of you answer that first statement in your own heads- or perhaps aloud- with a second, more “correct” statement: “No, it’s wrong because there’s no ‘up’ and ‘down’ in space.”

And while this point can be argued against the former, with both sides on that post bringing up all sorts of arguments about why the maps are the way they are or which projection is more correct, here’s where I arrived:

“Oh, it doesn’t matter”

This is not, as so often the statement is used, me dismissing the points being made on both sides, playing the devil’s advocate, or everyone’s favorite strawman, the “moderate.” No, the reason I think this, and the reason I talk about it here, is because that’s the point I think the south-up map makes, and that other posters made later in the thread when they shared other projections.

It doesn’t matter because as long as the map is correct and readable, its orientation is meaningless. It doesn’t matter which end is up, because it’s correct regardless. And that. THAT. Is where “it doesn’t matter” is such a powerful statement- it isn’t a dismissal of an argument or the sides taken, it is a reminder to yourself that the argument, the very human need to find the “right answer” is invalid in that case- the answer doesn’t matter because it’s not a question with one answer.

It is complex, it is variable depending on perspective.

It doesn’t matter.

And there it is, friends- the key to so very many things, so many arguments, so many complex issues- it doesn’t matter not because it has no answer or nobody has the “right” answer, but because to “answer” it is unimportant in relation to simply finding the perspective that works best for you.

When you can identify those situations, when you can look at something complex and subjective and see past the arguments and the shouting matches and the diatribes, you are free of that instinctual need to “solve” it.

You realize the answer to the question your lizard brain is posing, the category it fits, is that “It doesn’t matter”

And that, friends, is often an answer in itself.

In life, in love, in identity, in philosophy, your answer to the question is often just as much your own as someone else’s answer is theirs. The question of who is right, the puzzle of who has the “correct” take on it is meaningless, it’s not a question at all, because there isn’t a right one, only a million little arguments that do nothing at all but to hurt people by having them.

Sometimes, all you need to do is look at that “question” and tell yourself “Oh. It doesn’t matter. I just have to love them anyways.”

And when you do that? Well… you can devote a lot more of yourself to the things that matter the most. 💖

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june-sunsets · 23 days ago

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"Greece sort of owns the Parthenon Marbles"

Sort of? SORT OF?

On July 5th 2024, yet another discussion about the Parthenon Marbles took place, at the British Museum. I never expect much anymore when it comes to this subject. Every time there's some kind of update on this ongoing debate, somehow my frustration reaches a new level. Because for every sensible debater, there will always be someone like 'classicist' Mary Beard.

According to Mary Beard, Greece only 'sort of' owns the Parthenon Marbles. "These are objects which are international, they belong to humanity, not to one particular bit of it", she said on July 5th.

Obviously I resent the entitlement in those words, the audacity to undermine the ethnic value of another country's heritage. The Marbles are international, you say? They don't belong to "one particular bit" of humanity? But if it hadn't been for that "one particular bit" of humanity, there wouldn't have been any Marbles to speak of. As a Greek person, I find it downright insulting of her, a British person, to say the Marbles don't belong to the "one particular bit" of humanity that birthed them.

How about we have a little laugh? Mary Beard said that the Parthenon Marbles are like a "child in a messy divorce case".

That's a wild simile. And by 'wild' I mean 'stupid'.

I'm calling it stupid because 'child of a divorce case' makes it sound like the Greeks and the Britons built the Parthenon together.

I know, of course, that Beard didn't make this simile out of stupidity. By comparing this debate to a child custody battle, she's insinuating the Marbles belong to the UK as much as they do to Greece, and that this is merely a matter of compromise. She knows exactly what she's doing, as a trustee of the British Museum.

On Twitter, she will 'educate' the public about what the Marbles should be called, in what feels like an attempt to justify naming the Marbles after the man who looted them. Whether you refer to the marbles removed from the Parthenon exclusively, or the 'less famous' stolen treasures, one thing is for certain; Elgin was a thief, and no amount of quirky 'pedantry' by Mary Beard is going to change that.

Lord Elgin was responsible for literally ripping pieces off of an ancient building, ignoring its cultural significance to Greek people. Make no mistake; he didn't find the Marbles on the ground, deserted and unappreciated by the Greeks. He RIPPED THEM OFF. Violently.

However, Mary autocorrect-to-the-rescue Beard will come to his defense, and tell you that when Elgin coveted the Marbles, the Parthenon was already in "a very sorry state". She went as far as to claim that "there is doubt at all he saved his sculpture from worse damage". All this is in a BBC archived piece written by Beard in 2011, in which she supposedly looks at both sides of the argument, yet it still felt one-sided when I read it.

So...he saved the Marbles from damage...by violently ripping them off the edifice? Gotcha.

We need to remember, everyone; the goal here is to make the BM Trustees and Elgin's ghost feel good about themselves.

"I want to see those marbles shared I think realistically, more generously with Greece", she said, on July 5th.

I wonder how Mary Beard would feel if one day a random person broke into her house and told her; "I planned to keep this place for myself, but you know what? Let's share it! I want to be generous to you."

Does she think she sounds like the bigger person? Does she think the British Museum is doing Greece a favor by entertaining the idea of sharing the Greek Marbles? How progressive!

How hypocritical.

She continued "I would like to see again the Parthenon marbles being ambassadors for a particular sort of Hellenic classical culture in which both Greece and the United Kingdom, and many other countries in the world, share; they can do their job not just in Athens or London- what about Beijing?"

What about Beijing, Mary? You reeeaaally don't want the Marbles to return to Greece, do you? If you could, I have a feeling you would personally deliver the Marbles to Mars. After all, the Marbles can interplanetary.

I jump back and forth to her 2011 piece, where she asks; "Who owns great works of art? Do monuments such as the Parthenon belong to the whole world?" and "Are they the possession of those who live in the place where they were first made? Or are they the possession of everyone? The likelyhood is that we will be debating these issues for many years to come." Well, quite frankly, if we keep debating this for many years to come, it will due to the BM Trustees' own denial of reality. The questions Beard asks are easy to answer. Too easy, in fact.

In the same 2011 piece, Beard ponders the meaning of Cultural Property, of ownership. She points out how everyone can appreciate the works of Shakespeare and Mozart, and how things get sticky when it comes to the global appreciation of a tangible work of art such as the Marbles. The answer to this conundrum is obvious, if one looks at the matter objectively; the Greek Marbles belong in Greece, in the museum close to the Parthenon from which they were wrongfully torn from, and we wouldn't even be having this discussion if Elgin and his entourage hadn't taken them as souvenirs. The truth is that there is no real need for a debate, the BM trustees just keep dancing around the topic. They will harp on the complexity of this so-called debate because they don't like the idea of letting the Marbles return to Greece.

There's this childish insistence in the British Museum's reasoning, to keep associating the Parthenon Marbles with the UK much more than with Greece. I feel this stems from something that can be traced back to Elgin and his own avarice; a strange need to latch on to a part of a culture that was never theirs to begin with.

The insistence to connect the Marbles to the UK is the undertone to the 'child in a divorce case' comparison. It's what ultimately makes Beard's argument fall apart, and brings the hypocrisy to light. She said the Marbles don't belong to Greece, they belong to humanity. They're international, she said. And I ask; where was that sentiment before Greece called the British Museum out? Before we asked for the return of the Marbles? Before Melina Mercouri, Greek Minister of Culture, started fighting for them? If this matter had never been raised, would you ever care about your British Museum becoming "the world's greatest lending library", Mary?

What Mary Beard wants you to hear is; Why should Greece have the Marbles, when the whole world should have them?

What Mary Beard actually means is; If the UK can't keep them, then no one can.

Especially not Greece. The BM Trustees are adamant about that.

Which brings us back to the ridiculous "child in a messy divorce case" phrasing. A simile that doesn't apply in this situation and makes no sense, unless Beard imagined the BM as the delusional party who has convinced themselves this child is theirs even though there's no relation between them. But that would be too much self-awareness to expect from this academic.

You wanna compare the Parthenon Marbles to a child, Mary? Okay, but it's not a child 'in a messy divorce case'. This is a child that was abducted from its own home. It's a hostage situation, Mary. The British Museum is keeping a child hostage.

Greece wants her child back.

And as for cultural 'ambassadors', the British are free to send their own, instead of playing around with OUR cultural heritage.

#this was very long #but i was very angry #parthenon marbles #greek marbles #greece #acropolis museum #british museum #mary beard wants to send the marbles to beijing #greek culture #greek heritage

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crepuscularqueens · 1 year ago

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writing pattern tag!

Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

thank you so very much for tagging me @dr-lizortecho :) <3

would you come out and die for me

It wasn't that Sam didn’t understand what he was getting himself into. Okay? It wasn't that. He wasn’t naive or stupid. He’d read the files, he’d pieced so much of this shit together himself, spending long sleepless nights poring over accounts and linking events and blurry photos and making educated guesses that got proven right the more they dug up.

someday my pain will mark you

It starts with a fight. An argument, the pale, thin man’s incessant nagging wearing yet another hole in the thin skin Logan has over his temper. It never takes long for him to grow aggravated, to snap at the other man, but today proves different. Caliban usually needles at a point until he gets a reaction, then withdraws, but today he stands up to Logan’s temper and serves it right back.

when i walk into a room, i do not light it up

Quentin was trying to be mature. That’s what this was all about, he was an adult, as were all his friends and exes and half-way sort-of maybe-kinda-if-you-look-at-it-sideways exes, and they could manage being civil to each other. He was trying to show that he could move on from the absolute disaster he’d created, show up to a party with all of his friends and act just as he always had. In Q’s case that meant moping in the corner sulking and watching everyone else have a good time. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

i bit the fruit and all heaven broke loose

Silver did not expect Flint to come find him after what happened in the tavern in the sense that he was anticipating the captain’s arrival. Howell was tending to his leg, the barely healed wound irritated once more from the actions. But, Silver found, when he heard Flint’s steady footsteps approaching, he was completely unsurprised that the man would be at his side at a time like this.

perfect

“It really is the perfect paperweight.” Stede’s voice was pleased, a little hint of wonderment despite what could have been viewed as a complete disaster and waste of their time. Ed could see Stede balancing the petrified fruit on the tips of his fingers out of the corner of his eye before setting it on his desk. It had been fun for what it was, despite it all, and Ed could not help but be fond of the other man. Lucius’ words kept rattling around his head, that bizarre little man over there likes you very much, round and round they went, finding all different angles to come at him from.

held by you (felled by you)

Once the tears start coming, Edward’s knees pulled up in the bathtub, a blanket protectively over him like a shield from the reality he has to face coupled with the dark memories of his past, they don’t stop. Not when he’s taken from the grip of his painful memories, and not when Stede offers his immediate, unthinking forgiveness, that’s for certain.

take your sword, run me through

It’s not the initial wound that really hurts, you know? The blade punching through, slicing clean, you hardly feel it for what it is. Coming back out, now that’s never going to be quite as effortless and neat. Hurts like a bitch. But the care afterwards? Fuck, now that’s the excruciating part. Ed took a greedy swig of some of the expensive stuff Stede had in his quarters as the man tended to the wound with slightly shaking hands.

he kisses me softly to wake me up

The night was not quiet or still, because there was never a night that could be quiet and still on the sea. Strangely, that was something Stede adjusted to quite fast, the constant movement in and around his ship, whether it be tame and gentle as a mother nursing a child or wild and vengeful, he never found he had much trouble falling asleep on the water. So, it wasn’t the movement of the ship on the water that woke him on this particular night. But something had.

we bleed holy water

The evening had a cold crisp bit to it, a breeze rustling the scatter of fallen leaves on the pavement, sliver of moon hiding behind a thin veil of cloud, and Natalia was on the hunt. Through the scattered trees that meandered down the hill they were waiting on, a small group of grad school students were walking together, laughing with good spirits at a joke one of them told. Bucky could tell when Natalia had her sights set on someone she liked, a worthy prey, a trophy. It’s not that he’d ever been disappointed in her choices, it's just…

Shores Begging For Big Moons

It was hot and dry on this goddamn planet. It was always hot and dry on these planets, too close to their suns, relying on imported water and food, settled impractically on a rock that wasn't suited to support life on its own. Sam had grown up on a planet that was humid and teaming with greenery and life, when it wasn't entirely waterlogged. He hated being stationed on these outlying planets, far from SHIELD command and full of less than savory characters. Part of the deal of being on interplanetary rotation, which Sam had asked for a couple years ago, knowing full well what he was signing up for. But all the same he couldn’t wait to get back to base, spend a little time on a planet whose atmosphere wasn't thirty percent dust. Steve never seemed to mind being stationed out in these places, Sam couldn’t understand it.

no pressure tagging @sambambucky and um. anyone else that wants to for real you are tagged now if you want to do this <3

#does anyone else still do these tags i always feel so annoying tagging people but i get such joy out of doing them myself #idk! oh well!#mine #i don't think openings are necessarily my strong point but i don't think they're like... terrible.#some of them are pretty good but some are pretty clearly something needs to go here so here is a bunch of words!

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lettucedloophole · 5 months ago

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hello, i'm so glad i found this blog! it's amazing to know that there are people in this space doing the work. if you don't mind me asking, how did you turn away from terf ideology? i find it frustrating that many radical feminists are terfs and i'm wondering if there is a way to bring more power to the side of trans-inclusive radical feminism, or arguments that cause terfs to realize transphobia is not feminist. not all people are the same or will have their minds changed by the same thing, of course, but if you have any insight on this, please share it!

hii :D i don't think of myself as doing work really, just kind of talking here, but i'm glad you like my blog!

this issue is a tough one. at it's core... people aren't going to change if they don't want to. i think it's especially hard to deradicalize as most of the time the spaces younger terfs are coming from are liberal queer spaces, and they're obviously very terf-exclusive places despite the fact that there's still rampant transmisogyny there. so essentially it's like, you can't acknowledge you're wrong, because if you're wrong then you're a bad person who's harmed a vulnerable group and no one will accept you anymore. but the solution to this isn't to be like "well just stop being angry that people are/were oppressive" because that also leads to more bigotry. i guess it's a catch 22 of sorts.

it's kind of haunting to think about but some of the people i knew in terf spaces even privately admitted to me that they felt bad about what they were saying but in the end, their ideological beliefs told them it was okay and they didn't want to lose that sense of belonging. as you know, being in proximity to terfs as someone who even so much as sympathizes with trans people makes them rain hell down upon you.

i think it's best to focus on preventative measures. mainstream trans (and left) spaces should have a better understanding of misogyny, transphobia, and transmisogyny. the reason i rejected transness is because i thought i understood what it was and the social conditions around it, and especially if you're tumblr socialized, you're aware of the ways in which you're disprivileged and if you're multiply marginalized (like myself and a handful of terfs) it's easy to think you can't be in the wrong, wielding power over people because you're the victim. hence the necessity of learning about transmisogyny.

for people who are terfs now, though... well, the way i got out was on the grace of trans inclusive radfems, largely trans women. being in proximity to terf spaces really took a toll on them mentally, though. i think it's best for tme people or, more particularly, cis women to step in and try to educate about transmisogyny while leaving trans people out of the line of fire. in mainstream spaces, however, it's best to support trans women and boost their voices. yada yada. all that ally stuff.

idk if you were looking for particular arguments to sway terfs. ideologically and materially, they're just wrong. trans people, esp transfems, are oppressed. even if they can bring up 1000 bad trans women in news articles by conservative media, that's still such a small fraction of the trans population and we can recognize fearmongering when we know better, like right wingers who post about how many latino immigrants killed and raped Real™ us citizens, logically in that scenario you can go... but that doesn't mean EVERY immigrant. but fearmongering preys on your ignorance. education is the only shield.

idk if you're trans but i would say if you're not, consider engaging with terfs or just kinda transphobic people seeking out other opinions genuinely. it takes time to grow out of a mindset but if they're willing to listen, it might help to point out logical inconsistencies, bring up statistics (i have learned. so much about transmisogyny in particular just from pulling up fucking stats to argue with terfs), share transfem experiences & perspectives you've heard (but. not their accounts in case they decide to be assholes to them. use your judgement here)

i have faith that you'd be good at that. i argued with terfs earlier on this blog but it's something i'm growing increasingly erm, allergic to as it just kind of dampens my spirit and harms me mentally. idk. maybe it's cos im transitioning now or my immense guilt at ex-tervery. Probably Both.

i appreciate that you're looking for a way to help the issue. i would say... don't worry about radical feminism too much in particular. it was important to me too to clear radical feminism's name before as well, but really, when you see the sheer amount of terfs in rf nowadays, they make up the majority or at least, the vocal majority, you have to understand why trans people are weary. the name of radical feminism isn't more important than the justified fear trans people have of transphobia, and it's not more important than the ideas in radical feminism themselves, many of which are expanded upon in transfeminism. would def recommend you look into transfeminist theory or, transfeminist accounts. i believe radical feminism will absolve itself in time, it won't be seen as perfect but as it is, flawed yet valuable.

so yeah! i don't know if that's the sort of answer you were expecting but i hope i could provide some decent guidance in some way. you're always free to ask more questions or shoot me a message. and, thank you for the ask. have a nice day :]

p.s. kinda realised i should put some actual arguments here so uh....

sex is not real! social constructionism beam wooshwoosh

statistics

yeah that's all i got but really that's all you need. lol 😭

#asks #radical feminism #trans inclusive radical feminism #tirf #ex-terf #terfism #apologies it is almost 7am and i have not slept #its my birfday...

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scarefox · 1 year ago

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Sometimes when I leave my save and sane QL fandom bubble, to venture out to find interesting new things and information, I see posts of people... and brother.... for a moment there I understand why antis hate us. Like if you only see those weirdoes (derogatory) in youtube comments, MDL or on xitter... even sometimes here in tumblr.... the image of the community looks really bad and ignorant.

Like stuff like this

A bit of self reflection and respecting a persons boundaries and privacy before posting stuff would be neat. I mean at least on the actors social media and their posts ..... (and their xitter # and MDL pages since they check that occasionally)

No but besides that, some peoples comments are just straight up dumb or hurtful? Like gossiping about actors looks and bodies (yes even skin color in either direction). Or top / bottom discourses on yt & xitter with the most stupid cliche arguments you can imagine. 🤦‍♂️

And don't get me started on the fanservice discourse. THAT looks very different on yt / x than it looks here on tumblr. Like 90% of them don't even get why people are skeptical about actors who just drop the "yea we are boyfriends" line. They all think you are homophobic and hate the actors if they would be dating in real life if you don't immediately believe it. No fam... it's because the BL industry PR made them lie and play pretend for years (and some even just mean "we are boyfriends on screen" like work-husbands) and now we cannot tell anymore if it's a genuine coming-out or if it's not... not surprising that those fans are all cis-hetes and therefore can't even grasp the annoyance of this, and just parroting stances they have heard are political correct ala "it is not our business / why should you even care" because representation from them and support from us that's why! And the ever ongoing prejudice that BL actors are all hetero. And if actors go that far to say such stuff on cam they should be clear about it if it's just playing or if it's real 🤷‍♂️

Like as example Copter who came out as nonbinary makes me damn happy as fellow genderqueer nb person, to see there is some celebrity feeling similar as me. But if they would now come around and say "actually that was just promo" it would feel shallow and like a betrayal even. (but I know Copter is genuine). Or Cooheart and every other open fem gay guy in the BL actor crowd is damn important for me and others as idol to look up to. But also to stick it to every idiot in the BL comment section / or anti side, that tries to gaslight people into believing that feminine gay men do not exist outside of fictional BL stories and manga (I see this stupid comment from different people way too often and it pisses me off so much).

Anyways, what I want to say is that unfortunately the image is still way worse than what I want to believe / hoped it is. And we can fight against antis & hater for acceptance and understanding as much as we want, if there are still so many loud idiots in our community it's hard. What's the point of this post? idk.. educate ya fellow idiot? We already got better over the years in the fandom but it's still some path ahead of us. And use your own brain please. Also before you post comments on some actors stuff, think about if you would say the same to their face in real life.

#discourse #i am tired of this bs #bl drama #bl industry #bl fandom #ql drama

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all-the-things-2020 · 10 months ago

Text

Further Along the Way - Chapter One

Sequel to “Finding His Way”

Summary: Now that he has abandoned the Way and is no longer a bounty hunter, Din Djarin and his family deal with an entirely new way of life.

Rating: PG

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Din told Mariana. “We don’t really need a ship anymore, especially a gun ship. Besides, we need the money.”

It was true. Not only was Din no longer a Mandalorian, he was no longer a bounty hunter and they hadn’t had any income for several months. Still, the thought of him selling the Razor Crest made her heart sink. It had been their home for nearly a year now, and the first real home she’d had in over a decade. She knew it was only practical to sell the ship, but it felt like an irrevocable step.

“I can get enough from the sale of the Crest to keep us afloat for awhile,” Din went on. “Definitely long enough for us to find a place to live and for me to find a job. We need to get settled, cyar’ika.” He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her, one hand gently rubbing the small swell of her belly where the baby was growing.

“I know,” she said, leaning back against him. “It’s just … I feel bad that you’re making all the sacrifices in this relationship.”

“I’m not sacrificing anything, Mar’ika,” he insisted.

She turned to face him. “You’ve given up your livelihood, your armor, your religion … I haven’t given up a thing.” She traced the curve of his cheek with her fingertips, lingering when she reached his lips.

He kissed her hand and held her closer. “I never asked you to give up anything,” he said softly. “I never will. I want you to have everything, after the Empire took so much from you.”

She sighed and pressed her forehead against his. “I want you to have everything, too. But you keep giving things up.”

He shook his head. “I have everything I need, right here. You. Ad’ika. Our unborn child. My family. Nothing else matters.”

He stepped back. “I … I was thinking of selling part of the arsenal, as well,” he said.

“No!” She cried.

He shook his head again. “I don’t need that many weapons. I’m done fighting.” He held up a hand to forestall her response. “I’ll keep enough to protect us if need be, but some of those pieces will fetch a good price.”

“Cyar’ika,” she said, sadly. “You don’t have to do this. We’ll get by. I can get a job …”

“No,” he said firmly. They’d had this argument before. Din was adamant that she was not going to look for a job until after the baby was born. It was touching that he was so concerned about her, but frustrating that he seemed to think that she was so fragile. “I’ll sell the ship, and some of the weapons, and that will keep us going. I’ll find work soon enough, and once the baby comes, you’re going back to school.”

She sighed again. “I know you want me to finish my education, and I will, eventually. But first, we need to get financially stable. Kids aren’t cheap, Din.”

“I know that. But you deserve to follow your dreams. And once you do finish a degree, you’ll probably be able to get a much better paying job than I can.” He winked at her and she relented. He was right, of course, but she still felt like she was taking advantage of his devotion.

“Okay, we’ll do this your way,” she said. “But please, my love, don’t give up everything. Keep something for yourself.”

His only answer was to wrap her in a fierce hug and start nibbling on her ear. At that point, she knew she might as well give up. There wasn’t going to be much talking for a while.

*******************************

Din crossed the spaceport, heading for the director’s office. It still felt odd to him to be walking around in public without any armor, and especially without a helmet. He felt naked, even though he was fully clothed. This planet was on the warm side, but he still wore a long sleeved shirt with a high collar. He caught himself fiddling with his wedding ring again and made himself stop. It was the only piece of beskar he still wore, and the smooth surface of the metal was so tempting. This is the past, he told himself firmly. Let it go.

He reached the office and checked in with the receptionist, a Togrutan who handed him a numbered chip and told him in a bored voice to wait until it was his turn. So very different from the days when Din walked into a room and all eyes turned fearfully toward him. Now he was just another guy. Fortunately, there were only a few others waiting to see the director and there were plenty of empty chairs. He settled into one and scanned the room out of habit. He didn’t wear armor anymore, but he still had a small blaster tucked into one boot and a knife in the other. He felt confident that he could handle everyone in the room, even if they all came at him at once, and he allowed himself to relax.

A scruffy looking man was called into the director’s office, and the pert blonde woman who had been chatting with him moved to sit next to Din. She smiled and gave him an appraising look. This was another thing he’d had to get used to. If you showed your face, people actually looked at it, and some of them appreciated the way it looked.

Before she had a chance to open her mouth, he held up his left hand. “Married,” he said.

“Too bad,” she said with a shrug before moving on to sit next to one of the other men in the room. Din supposed he should feel flattered she’d chosen him first, but it still made him feel awkward.

Eventually, his number was called and he went into the director’s office. She was a no-nonsense woman with steel grey hair and a clipped accent. “What can I do for you, Mr….”

“Djarin.” She gave him a curt nod. “I have a ship I’d like to sell. I wanted to make sure I follow the proper procedures.”

“What docking bay is this ship in?”

“6R-32.”

She tapped her datapad and raised an eyebrow. “Very impressive. I wouldn’t have taken you for the gun ship type, Mr. Djarin. This should fetch a nice price, provided there aren’t too many repairs needed. Are you looking to sell it on the legit market, or are you open to more questionable buyers?” She sat back and looked him straight in the eye. Definitely the no-nonsense type.

“I need the money,” he said. “I’m open to any good offer.”

“Good,” the director nodded. “I’ll put out some feelers, post the specs on the spaceport bulletin board, and we’ll see what we can do for you. Of course, I expect a commission if I broker a deal.”

“Of course,” Din replied. He knew how to play this game. “Ten percent?”

“Thirty.”

“Twenty.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Done.” He shook her hand. Even with a twenty-five percent commission, her contacts would bring him a higher price than he could have gotten by approaching potential buyers on his own.

He stood to leave, but turned back. “I do have a few other items that might be of interest to the type of buyer you’re talking about,” he said.

The director leaned back in her chair, steepling her hands. “Do tell,”

He gave her a brief rundown of the weapons he was willing to part with. “My, my, you are full of surprises,” she said with a smile. “Bounty hunter?” He simply nodded. “May I ask why you’re giving up the trade?”

He fingered his ring again. “It’s not the best job for a man with a family,” he said quietly.

The director stood up and held out her hand. “Twenty percent,” she said. When he gave her a questioning look, she shrugged. “I have a soft spot for men who don’t walk out on their responsibilities. Long story.”

“Twenty percent,” Din agreed, shaking her hand again. “And your pick of the weapons.”

She smiled broadly. “I like your style, Mr. Djarin.”

#the mandalorian #star wars #grogu #baby yoda #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x original female character #din djarin fanfiction

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