#pre-diwali | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

everythingne · 9 months

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out of the woods — LS2

After a short break during her time as a Ferrari reserve driver, loud-mouthed driver Dhanishka Dubey resurfaces when she moves up to f1 under Ferrari. She’s back to terrorize her ex, none other than Logan Sargeant when she conquers him once again this season, just like before, just like always.

But when faced with your first love, and your only love, it's hard to let those feelings past. Especially when a relationship was prematurely ended, especially when she's everything you aren't, especially when you never got over his love.

logan sargeant x ferrari!ex!oc

fc: iffat marash (adult) hamda al qubaisi (young)

warnings/notes: mentions of past car accidents, multiple incorrect dates, butchered pasts for logan and oscar, [] used to denote other languages being spoken, yes the title is taylor swift ok, the oc is indian, however the author is NOT, pls pls pls correct me on any inaccuracies ♥️ let me pretend logan didn't have a bad season by putting him on par w oscar. this is for MY mental health !!

(part two)

14 NOVEMBER, INSTAGRAM

scuderiaferrari made a new post!

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, logansargeant, and 238k others…

scuderiaferrari: welcoming dhanishka dubey to the f1 team from her past position of reserve driver this season! she will be the first ever bahraini f1 driver, and the third woman to take to the grid. dhaniska is currently sponsored by @ monsterenergy and @ colourpopcosmetics, she’s bringing a bright, energized feel to our team this season!

dhanishkadubey: so so excited to be here!

charlesleclerc: sometimes i still hear carlos… singing in the distance…

⤷ dhaniskadubey: smooooooooth operatoooorrr

⤷ carlossainz: you both act like i died, i just changed teams.

⤷ charlesleclerc: rip smooth operator <;/3

user2: this is so a jab at williams .

⤷ user3: how ??

⤷ user2: @ user3 dhanishka is logans ex girlfriend

⤷ user3: OOOO

⤷ user4: NO WAY???

oscarpiastri: pls don’t run me off the track again (i will beg if i have to)

⤷ dhanishkadubey: no promises ossie ♥️ (get on ur knees)

⤷ oscarpiastri: AYO??

danielriccardio: DANNY 2!!!

⤷ dhanishkadubey: DANNY 1!!!!

dhanishkadubey made a post!

liked by charlesleclerc, logansargeant, landonorris, and 298k others...

dhanishkadubey: might be the prettiest thing i have ever worn?? happy diwali to u all and a (late) happy 22 to me ♥️ (yea, i AM feeling 22.)

tagged: anyadubey

anyadubey: ily<3

user1: MOTHER IS MOTHERING EVERYONE!!

liamlawson: u look like a very nice disco ball ! happy diwali

⤷ dhanishkadubey: u look like a very nice young man ! thank u!

user2: god we don't need this conceited bitch on the track.

maxverstappen: happy birthday, happy diwali, and welcome to f1!

⤷ dhanishkadubey: thank you max !! looking forward to challenging you this seaon :)!

user3: shes going to get someone killed

14 NOVEMBER, TWITTER

28 FEBRUARY, BAHRAIN

"It's a pre-season dinner, how badly can it go?" Anya asks me, eyes darting down to my sari and then back to my face as she works on pinning the pleats to my shoulder as I adjust them and secure their positioning.

When she’s done, she squeezes my arms as she stands next to me in her much more casual western clothing. We look like opposites, me in a bright red sari and her wearing a black dior sweatshirt and jeans. She grins, “you look stunning by the way."

"Thanks, Anya," I give her a little side hug, passing her to continue fixing myself up in the mirror ahead of us. I huff as I adjust my earrings and bracelets, tacking the former down with eyelash glue, "I just worry if like… Logan says something.”

“You’re gonna let a man, a white man no less, make you worry?” Anya paused, hands on her hips as she looks at me in the mirror of our parents home, the little cookie cutter complex we lived in the corner plot in.

“Plus what would he even say?” Anya crosses her arms, “that whole thing wasn’t even your fault.”

“I know but… I was still Trident’s golden child when it happened. People are always gonna assume I had something to do with it. I’m lucky the FIA didn’t take anything away from me, I’m honestly lucky the team admitted I had nothing to do with it.”

“Does Logan blame you?” Anya leans on the doorframe to my bathroom, “because that’s the only opinion that matters.”

“He might. I… it made him break up with me. So, I don’t know.” I sigh, “but it’s just one guy, I still have Oscar, Charles, Carlos and Daniel.”

“I still don’t get Danny.” Anya muses, and when she sees my confusion she waves a hand, “No, not him, as your nickname.”

“Oh, a reporter called me ‘Dan-ish-ka’ and not ‘Dun-ish-kah’ and someone on Twitter thought she called me Danny and it just—rolled from there.” I laughed softly, turning back to Anya as I motioned for her to move out of the door so I could grab my bag and such. She did with ease, moving to grab the keys to my (but hers when I wasn’t home) Porsche Taycan.

“And, that’s when there were rumors I was joining Red Bulls Junior team as well, instead of Ferrari’s, so it all just kept stacking.” I grabbed my purse off my bed and dropped in a small perfume container, my lipstick, and a few other essentials, “people called me ‘Danny 2’ and it got to Daniel Ricciardo himself, and that’s how we started talking.”

“Oh that’s actually so cute.” Anya grins, following me out to the kitchen where my mother is forcing my father to help her make biryani while she’s fixing up the bar for a party they’re having tonight.

“Alright, [Momma, Dad, how do I look?] Do we like the red one better than the silver one? Anya helped me pick this one out, [she thinks it’s some sort of new style with the solid color.]” I call in the usual mix of Marathi, Arabic, and English out household uses. As I pause in the kitchen, Anya’s fixing my sari out of her own nervous habit. My mother gasps, pushing past my father to take me into her arms with a bright smile.

“Oh! Dhanishka, wow! [You look amazing! I love this one,] is it new?” My mother looks me over and I nod, seeing the hint of my father’s smile from the kitchen that makes my heart sing. He rarely showed his support on his face, but since everything with Trident and the subsequent fall out and mental break, he tried his hardest to show his love for me and Anya. He did a good job.

“Yeah, [it’s from Manish?]” I say, turning back to Anya who nods.

“All of my girls, [so stunning.]” My father grinned, wiping his hands off before giving me a loose hug as to not get anything from his hands on my outfit, “Do you need anything to eat before you go?”

“No, [dad], I’ll be fine. Thank you.” I squeeze his shoulder, and my mother makes me stand back so she can take about a dozen photos of everyone with me. Once the photos are done, we wave goodbye, and it’s off to the restaurant they’ve picked.

I would’ve settled with anything in Manama, honestly but eating at somewhere down by the Four Seasons is perfect.

Anya drops me off to the front of the restaurant and I slip in, greeting the staff and letting them point me in the right direction. My hands are slick as I pull out my phone from my bag, Charles letting me know he was coming in right behind me, and I turn to see him, Max, and Carlos.

“Dhanishka!” Charles grins, leaning down to give me a quick hug, “Oh, this is the one you sent me? It looks nice.”

“Thank you. Figured I’d come in looking like I at least belong in the country I’m in, since I don’t quite fit in with the people yet.” I shrug, fiddling with the red fabric in my hands, feeling the beading against my knuckles. Catching my worry, Charles turns to the two who awkwardly greet me with half hugs and congratulations on driving along with them this season.

Once everyone’s stepped back, Charles nodded to them, “You guys go ahead, we’ll see you in there.”

Carlos and Max move behind a curtain and into a doorway, but Charles grabs my arm gently and pulls me back into a hallway leading to the bathroom, hands finding mine and squeezing them.

“Stop overthinking this, it’s a room with a bunch of stupid men. Basically the same thing you’ve been dealing with for like—over ten years.” Charles looks at me and I huff, pulling my hands back from him and fixing my hair for the third time since we’d gotten to the hallway.

“I just—what if someone brings up the crash? Or me racing with Trident?” I stammer and he shakes his head.

“I’ll deal with it. If anything happens, I’ll help you. I’m in your corner.” Charles takes my hands once more, squeezes them, and then lets go of them, “now, are you ready?”

“As long as you’re next to me, yeah… yeah I can do this.” I nod and he grins, moving ahead to open the door for me. I follow him, taking a slow breath before nodding and moving into the little reserved dining room. At the sight of me, a few conversations halt and I scan the room before noticing Oscar moving away from Logan to come greet me.

Logan’s… the same. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, crinkles in the corners of his eyes and a permanent smile line as his lips fall from a grin when he spots me. I take him in, his crisp blue suit with the jacket discarded—sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tie a bit loose and fuck, he looks confident and calm. He’s nothing like me in this moment, almost like we’ve swapped.

“Dhanishka.” Oscar steps in my eyeline, breaking the stare down between me and the American boy, and I smile at the Australian as he gently takes me in a hug.

“Good to see you, Oscar.” I close my eyes in the hug, and he steps back.

“Nice—fuck what’s the word—sa..” He holds up a hand when I go to tell him and then snaps, “Saree!”

“I’ve trained you well.” I laugh, complimenting his black suit, noting the decorative papaya colored inside of his jacket and little McLaren ‘81’ lapel. He says Lando has the matching ‘4’ and I make some joke that’s lost over Daniel chanting my name as he comes over to give me a tight hug.

“How’s my mini-me?” He asks, making sure the beading doesn’t hook on his suit as he steps back, I laugh and tell him I’m good, leaving out the part where my ex has been staring at me since I came in the door and I’m about half a second away from yelling at him to look elsewhere.

Luckily, Alex pulls Logan’s attention away— flashing me a small apologetic smile before bringing him over to the little minibar on the opposite side of the room.

“Do you drink?” Charles asks, hand on my elbow and I nod. My parents were lax with drinking and stuff as long as it wasn’t a holiday where I shouldn’t be. He grins and guides me to my seat, Oscar, Daniel and now Carlos tagging along. As I'm settling down to sit, Oscar on my left side with Lando on his left, Charles asking me what I’d like to drink. After a quick peruse of the menu, I settle on a margarita, and he whisks off to the bar to get it while Daniel sits across from me.

“You’re nervous about Logan, aren’t you?” Daniel leans across the table as he speaks, Carlos sitting next to him and taking a sip of a drink. Lando leans to ask Oscar something in a hushed tone besides me, and my eyes flicker to their whispers momentarily before settling back on Daniel.

“I just don’t want someone to bring up Trident, for either of our sakes, its a sore subject.” I huff, looking around the room, everyones clumped off in the groups I expect to see, a few stragglers between each group either drifting to the table or the bar.

"I'm sure if someone tries, it'll get shut down pretty quick." Oscar turns to me after filling Lando in. Charles sits on my other side, setting down my margarita and taking a sip of whatever drink he'd been coerced into drinking. I assume Max had something to do with it when I eye the gin and tonic in his hand.

"I know, I know. I just worry." I hum, bringing the margarita to my lips as a few more people settle. Logan is sitting a few seats down on the other side of the table, giving us both a clear view of the other. I know it's not intentional, but it makes my skin crawl.

Oscar has Lando switch seats with him, claiming he doesn't wanna hear whatever the two will shout over him, but I know it's so that he can help distract Logan. I remind myself tot hank him later.

I set down my margarita glass, standing up to formally greet Yuki as he comes to sit next to Daniel and I notice Logan's eyes firm on the glass. As I sit back down, I know why he's staring and my cheeks warm. Red lipstick stains the edge of the glass, something that I used to use to stain his lips back when we'd sneak kisses between Trident and HWA's paddocks and in hotel elevators.

And he might have had power over me because I was afraid of causing a fight at my first event with the F1 drivers, but being civil and lying down never got me anywhere in racing. So, when his eyes linger on my lips, I 'accidentally' make a show of pulling out my purse and setting it on my lap. My dark red nails clicking along the zipper as I pull it open and pull out a compact mirror and the same tube of red lipstick he'd bought be back in 2021. Logan bought it days before the crash, a Valentino refillable lipstick, more expensive than I deserved. He'd proudly given it to me, claiming his mom had the idea after my long term lipstick had finally run out. It was still shade 22R. The only shade I ever wore.

Even if Logan had bought the lipstick, I still liked it. It looked nice on my lips, complimented my skin, transferred just enough for my liking.

Across the table, Logan's eyes dilate in a sort of recognition as I swipe the tube across my lower lip. My dark eyes watching his light ones out of my peripheral as I watch myself in the my little red compact Valentino mirror. I'd bought it since it matched the tube of lipstick, and I know he recognizes that too. His bottom lip disappears under his teeth in a soft hiss. I know he knew exactly what lipstick it was. He'd bought be the first one, I just got it refilled after.

And if I purposefully fuck it up, using my finger to fix it just to rile him into silence as he looks away flustered, no one else comments on it. Except a cheeky grin from Daniel who muffles a laugh into his palm, pretending Carlos said something to him.

I have the upperhand at the moment, and it eases my panic. Charles looks over at me, sending me an odd look as a click my mirror shut a little louder than I probably should, but a just send him a tiny smile in response and he doesn't question it as I drop both items into my Coach purse and hang it on the back of my chair once more.

Once everyone's settled, it's Max who stands and thanks everyone for coming and thanks Charles for helping him organize the little dinner. Menus are passed around by two waitresses who speak in soft voices as they explain the specials to us in groups, and then we're off to pick our food and mingle. I settle on a 'keto bowl' type dish with salmon and a small appetizer of these little potato wedge things Daniel claims I have to split with him.

And I get a stronger drink because each time Logan even looks in my direction it makes a knot form in my stomach.

"Are you gonna ignore him all night?" Lando turns to murmur to me when we're getting our appetizers. It's been twenty minutes of odd tension and I can tell Lando's getting a little irritated by it.

"I've ignored him for three years. I can do it now." I say back, a little sharp, but when I see Lando's not asking out of irritation but rather worry, I soften and whisper, "It's fine. I..."

Trailing off, my eyes find Logan's accidentally, and it's like I can't look away. It's the second time we've made eye contact, and maybe its the margarita swirling in my stomach and pumping liquid courage through my veins, but I can't look away. It's like we're trapped for a moment, breaths caught in our throats. His voice fails in whatever story he's cheerily recounting to Oscar and Alex, and I see the former look towards where Logan's staring and he makes a bit of a worried expression.

I swallow, Pierre screeching in laughter pulling us from the moment, and I turn back to Lando as Logan rips his eyes away to look at Oscar.

"It's just... hard." I muse and Lando nods, he doesn't say anything about Logan after that as I turn back to Charles who gives me a tiny reassuring nod and then introduces me to the aforementioned Pierre who's come to stand behind us. I keep myself turned away from Logan for the rest of the meal, appetizers swallowed quickly between Daniel and I, Yuki and I sharing drinks and stories as we wait for dinner, I'm at least seven drinks in and happily going for an eighth.

My high tolerance doesn't fail me, but my bladder is close to doing so. With as much tipsy grace as I can muster, I slip out and down the hall to the bathroom, and when I'm done there I stop to freshen myself up in a mirror in the hall. I reapply my perfume, check my teeth, and wipe off a faint smudge of lipstick on my nose from when I had taken a rather large bite and smushed my lip up.

I hear the door click shut and glance over, throat going dry at the sight of Logan. I turn back to the mirror, digging in my purse for my lipstick once more, and he silently passes behind me without a word.

Somehow, that hurts more than anything.

But it's not like I'm making myself available to speak, so I finish tidying up my lipstick, and go back into the room. I grab more drinks for most of the table, thanking the bartender who comes around to help me bring all the drinks to the table.

Entrees arriving at the table passes me in a blur, I'm somehow shoved in a story with Yuki, Zhou, George, Esteban, and Max. I don't even know what they're really saying as everyone's laughing and speaking over one another, but I just enjoy being included.

I eat slow, laughing along with Daniel when he pops into whatever debate Lando, Carlos, and Charles, have pulled him into. And when the hyperactivity dies down as more of us get a bit sluggish from drinking, I eat a bit quicker to finish up my food so it helps my stomach have time to digest before I leave and helps my tipsiness lessen.

I check my phone, it's about ten thirty when we finish eating, and then it's kinda just a free for all hang out for a while. A few people start trickling out after it hits midnight. I know some of them have training tomorrow, as do I, but I kinda can already tell I'm not getting much rest tonight. Alex leaves in a group of about half the table, and I'm helping Charles and Max clean up as the rest slowly trickle out. Eventually I'm escorting Charles to a car as he waves goodbye to Max with a drunken laugh on his lips. Once the driver is on his way, I pluck my phone out of my purse and look through my messages. Anya's on her way, running late due to having to park her car far away since we had a lot of guests at the house.

"You shouldn't... ah," A familiar voice chimes and I look over to where Logan stands. He's far enough away to not be intruding, but close enough to shift towards me a bit as some random men pass behind us on the nearly vacant sidewalk, "You shouldn't stand out here alone, Dhanishka."

Him saying my name makes my heart leap into my throat and I pocket my phone, speaking gently, "Thanks for the concern, but I assure you I'll be fine. Anya's just down the road."

"Still, you know my mom would beat my ass if she knew I left a girl out here alone." He pauses, "Especially if it's you." And his voice trails off. For years his mother had helped raise me, my parents still spoke with her frequently—hell, she and her husband were at my house right now. And I know he’s right. But I can’t say anything past the bump in my throat. My silence makes him shift as he adjusts his grip on his jacket over his shoulder. It was an exceptionally chilly night for some odd reason. A cool breeze ripples across my shoulders. Bahrain was a desert, the lowest we got was 10 degrees celsius, nothing like the zero it was settled at now.

"You can stay." I say after a while and he visibly relaxes, still watching me out of the corner of his eye. The 'few minutes away' Anya texted me feels like a joke as the time stretches on and on and the cold bite of the air gets worse. I try using my saree as a bit of a scarf, but the red fabric is thin and does little to help.

After ten minutes, my teeth start to chatter as the street empties of most people and cars. It's a short hour or so lull when not much will happen at all before people start morning commutes. Beside me, I hear Logan huff. He moves closer and I look over to see him settle his jacket across my shoulders.

"Don't need you getting sick before the first race." He says softly, now far closer than he has been all day. I know I thank him, because I feel the words leave my throat, but I can't hear it over the blood rushing past my ears.

He'd broken it off with me, I never loved another. I still wore the same shade of lipstick and the same perfume, the same songs played on my Spotify whenever I had a chance. Taylor Swift blasting in my ears on long drives, Eminem for parties, Beyonce or Shakira for hyping myself up. I followed the Miami Dolphins loosely because I knew he loved them, and after all this time I found my heart still could be held in his hands. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the feeling of blush spreading across my chilly skin.

After a moment of us just staring at each other, the dim light being broken by passing cars, he whispers, "You can't ignore me forever. As much as you want to, the media is gonna stick us together the first opportunity they have. And... I know I remind you of Trident. I know I remind you of that 'crashgate' shit and maybe I should since you took my victory away."

"You and I both know I had nothing to do with that accident." I turn back to Logan, now fully facing him. I feel suffocated, the scent of his cologne on his jacket covering my perfume, like some sort of silencer washed over my voice. He still wears the same brand from back in the day, from when I stole his jackets and hoodies rather than being gifted them. It felt like a sick metaphor. Somehow we were the same after all this time, yet we would never get to be that again.

"Oh, come on." Logan laughs through a taught frown, threading a hand through his hair, "Now, I can believe that your team principal planned for your teammate to crash into me if I was ahead of you without you knowing. But when they told you to let your teammate overtake you for no reason, you didn't stop to ask why?"

"I did ask why, did you read the FIA reports?" I say back, wind whipping across the street and blowing my hair in front of my eyes like a blindfold.

"Or how about when the accident happened? Why did you keep racing?" He asks, sharp, and I can tell it's something thats been brewing. Years of silence on my end after he'd snapped with tears in his big blue eyes, telling me he 'couldn't do this anymore' and I let him walk away.

But I held my ground, as I always had to do. On my own once again, ostracized, I step closer and rip my hair away from my face in frustration that it wont stay back, "I was told I had to, Logan! I begged them to let me know what had happened to you and they refused! I didn't care about Viscaal! I cared about you!"

"Then why did you let me leave?!" He shouts and the whole street goes silent. We breathe heavy, almost chest to chest, eyes boring into each other with unshed tears. It's a gaping hole in my chest he claws at, trying to scrounge up answers I've buried six feet in the ground. I hear the sound of a car pulling up, I know its Anya without looking.

"What was I supposed to do?" I whisper, ripping his jacket off my shoulders and shoving it into his chest, "Beg you to come back? Apologize a hundred times? You didn't want to see me, you didn't care. I let you go because you wanted to go, and I'm fine with that."

He stares at me and I sniffle, cursing when I realize I've let the tears fall, and I continue, "I never would've let them do that to you if I knew. If I knew, I would've gone right to the FIA, you know that. Don't drag my name like the media already has, please. I can't take it from you of all people, Logan."

We stand in silence for a few more moments and then I turn around, passing in front of Anya's car to get in. I pause with my hand on the handle, watching Logan watch me with this expression in his eyes I can't read. Maybe I was wrong, maybe Logan and I weren't the same anymore, but I don't stop to think too hard as I rip open the door and throw myself down. When I slam the door, Anya puts the car in drive without pausing to ask anything, and pulls away as I desperately try to not watch Logan in the rearview.

"Can we just... drive?" I ask after a long silence and my sister nods, cracking the windows to let the cold air circle around us. I take a slow breath and tilt my head up, swallowing down my emotions until I feel a cool numbness roll across my skin. A familiar numbness.

It's going to be bad again, I can feel it in my chest.

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dhanishkajpg: shade 22R. his favorite. red. the color that's always bested him. (viewing translation from arabic)

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#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #logan sargeant x oc #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant smau #ls2 fanfic #ls2 fic #ls2 smau #ls2 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fanfic #f1 x reader #nicole wrote this

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sneakyparsnipslicer · 11 months

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A New Lease On Life

Have you ever felt like being yourself limits you in a way? Like being born to a particular family or culture limits your potential and often how the world views you?

My name is Dr. Kurpreet Singh. I'm 27, single and longing for a life other than my own.

It's a well-known fact that Indian culture gives little freedom to the children. Great expectations from parents, often using the success to flaunt in others' faces. Despite being a well-studied and successful man of medicine, I must be causing my mother and father a great deal of disappointment. They keep setting me up for arranged marriages, but I know it's all for their gain, and whilst I've been introduced to some absolutely beautiful women, they're not exactly what I'm looking for.

During my education, I was envious of the other boys, they could laze about, talk anything they'd like, date anyone they'd like. My life was pre-determined, focus on my studies, ace every test. I love my parents, but the life they forced upon me doesn't exactly offer the freedoms that many of my peers take for granted. It seems clear to me my life was mapped out in their eyes even from conception; create a child prodigy, marry him into a wealthy family, have some beautiful children, die securing a promising future for their grandchildren. A noble plan I guess, but what about what I want?

It took some persuasion, but I was able to move from my parents' home into my own flat. My mother of course always hit with the obvious comments. 'Why are you settling for a flat? You need a mortgage for raising your family!' 'A single bed? No, you need a big bed to share with the right lady when you find her!' 'I don't like this place, too small. Where is the family supposed to sit for Diwali?' 'This is not a nice neighbourhood. You don't know anyone on your street. What you need is a good community, please come back and live with us Kurpreet, you'll be happier!'

Honestly she's not been happy with my flat since Day 1, saying I need to change this and that, chastising me on finding the slightest speck of dust. At least she never stays. When I'm alone, that's when I truly feel free of the pressure and expectations I have had placed on me.

Now, in the time I've had in my flat, I've been able to enjoy all kinds of freedoms, particularly conducting my own research into arcane topics. It's crazy to think that some things we dream of can infact be reality, through the right methods of course. My researches led me to discovering the likes of body possession and bodysuits, methods to change a person's entire likeness! There were stories of people documenting their transformations from their old bodies into new ones and I wondered if I could do the same. Through a few contacts I was able to obtain a small glass container of powder.

To anyone it looked like some kind of seasoning, it really wouldn't have looked to out of place on a spice rack. According to my supplier, it was a powder that numbed the nerves and extracted the soul. More or less, anyone I sprinkled the powder on would become a bodysuit, and I'd also be able to undergo a transformation much like the stories I'd become enamoured by. I kept the container on me, you never know when I might find the right person to become the vessel I need. Of course I went about my usual life at the local clinic as the kindly Dr. Singh, but beneath the surface, an almost inhuman hunger was growing inside me.

It happened on one evening, as I drove home from the clinic, I parked my car in my usual spot in the carpark and made my way towards my flat's front door. Even as I locked my car door I could hear people talking from the direction of my door. Sounded like a bunch of rowdy men. I got my briefcase out of my car's boot, cautiously pocketing my glass container as a precaution. 'I'm just going into my flat' I told myself under my breath. Taking a deep breath I began to make my way to my door. The voices seemed to be sluggishly singing some chant. Maybe they were on their way back from a pub after a football match. I turned the corner and saw four men in tracksuits sitting on the steps leading up to my door, beer cans littered all over the floor. I stopped in my tracks looking slack-jawed at the sight.

'Oi, the fuck you looking at?' demanded one of them when he noticed me looking. The rest stopped singing and turned their attention on me. I cleared my throat. 'Pardon me, Gentlemen. Could I possibly get to my front door?' I asked politely. It took a moment then they started laughing. 'Did you boys get any of that?' asked the one closest to my door. 'Nah man, all I heard was 'Oh deary, deary me!'' said another one imitating an Indian accent. 'Welcome to my Kwik-E-Mart, please come again!' said the one that addressed me at first, and they all broke into outrageous laughter. I wasn't about to let a bunch of racists make me lose my cool. 'Look, you're in my doorway, haven't you all got somewhere better to be?' I demanded sternly, folding my arms. It was at that point the one who hadn't said a word yet stood up. He glared at me and began to walk menacingly over. He was a fair bit taller than I am, quite bulky too. I backed away a few steps, subtley reaching for my little glass container. 'Why don't you fuck off back to India, Curry-In-A-Hurry?' asked the man, staring me down. The other men started laughing again. I mustered up my courage, removing the cork behind my back. 'I was born here in England, my family's been living here two generations' I replied smartly, looking him in the eyes. The man lifted his head from my breathing space, seemingly impressed. 'Well look at that boys, guess he's one of us!' he shouted, turning to the others. I was stunned. 'What, really?' I asked curiously. 'Nah, fuck off!' he said, turning back and aiming a punch at me. I anticipated this and ducked to the side, spraying the contents of the container in his face. He coughed and shook his head, wiping the powder out of his eyes. 'You dirty little…little…' he slurred, gradually losing consciousness and slumping down on the ground. His friends looked on shocked. 'Terry?' asked one of them, getting up to get a better look. 'Guess your friend has had too much to drink' I said shrugging. 'Nah nah nah, you threw something on him!' cried another one, standing up and pointing accusingly at me. The first one approached Terry's body and shook his shoulder. Terry's whole body wobbled like jelly. 'Shit, you've killed him!' he said, looking at me. At this point I looked darkly into his eyes. 'You wanna take your chances with me or are you gonna go?' I asked calmly. The guy shook his head, inching along the wall. 'Fuck no! Let's get away from this Voodoo creep!' he yelled staggering off. The other two ran off after him, leaving me and Terry alone. I gave his body a little kick with my boot, then lifted his arm up, which flopped back down as I let go. 'Well then Terry, looks like your check-up's due!' I chuckled, unlocking my front door and hoisting him over my right shoulder.

Getting into my living room, I placed Terry on my sofa and placed my belongings on the counter to the side. Getting a better look at the man, he looked to be roughly the same age as me, short brown hair, clean-shaven. Dare I say kinda cute. I removed his clothes to get a better look at what was on offer, I was met with the sight of some nice biceps and muscles, a very nice chest and abs. I had no doubt this guy probably could have actually knocked me out if he'd had a decent shot. 'Nice body Terry! Shame about your awful mouth and problematic mind' I said tutting condescendingly. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and took a good, long look at myself. Slim built, soft black hair, a tidy goatee and the glasses I always wore. Not bad, but there was room for improvement. It occurred to me this might just be the last time I see my face like this, but I was ready to give it all up. Staring at myself I began to unbutton my shirt, revealing my flat chest and stomach, my skinny arms and slightly hairy chest. I began to smile, this was like a dream come true. I undid my belt, unlaced my boots, pulled off my trousers, socks and boxers and stood there fully nude. I looked at myself one last time and nodded, turning my attention to Terry. I pulled him off the sofa and placed him carefully on the rug. Nervously, I prised open his mouth, the stretching sound of elastic filling the room. My cock twitched and a grin spread across my face as I looked down into the darkness within his body. It was time.

I began by placing my right foot into his mouth, pushing down my foot and shin began to disappear past his lips. I thought it best to sit down for this, so I did just that. Placing my left foot inside, the rubbery squeaking continued as I pushed my legs down, Terry's mouth seemingly consuming my kneecaps and upper legs. Looking further down his body, I could see his own legs were swelling and darkening slightly, going from pale white a delightful tan. I could only imagine what the outcome was going to look like and my dick began to harden in delight. I began to move my thighs inside, I took care to push my erectifying penis into Terry's mouth too, seeing it further down stretching his length out and amazingly restoring my foreskin. I'd been circumcised as a child, so I'd never really known what it was like to have an uncut cock, but I guess that was going to be something for me to explore in good time. Hands on the floor, I began to slide my belly and chest into the mouth, seeing them firm up and darken Terry's body, I moved my arms inside too and they filled out his arms and hands too. I let my new hands explore my body, this was nice. Like REALLY nice. I stood up and walked over to the mirror, checking it out. Abs, ass, I had it all going on. I bit my lip and locked eyes with my reflection. My old face atop this new body looked back. I took off my glasses and put them on the counter, and through blurred vision I matched up Terry's lower jaw with my own and pulled his head over mine. I could feel my face contorting as I stood there for a moment, eyes shut, letting the transformation finish. I felt my face and hair, with one hesitant breath I opened my eyes. My new reflection looked back at me, clear as day. Terry must have had good eyesight, I could kiss those glasses goodbye. My black hair was still there, my goatee had survived the transformation too. I looked good, Terry and I had created one gorgeous guy. I gave my new cock a playful tug with my left hand and my new ass a squeeze with the right. I could finally leave my old life behind and enjoy any man I wanted, be anything I wanted. Ruffling up my hair and massaging my biceps I remembered, I had kept an outfit aside for this occasion. I hurried to my bedroom and flung open the doors, searching through my coat hangers I found it; a plaid shirt, skinny jeans with chains on them, a G-string to perk up everything on offer, and a leather harness, for later. I'd see about officially leaving the flat tomorrow, for tonight I'm hitting every gay bar in town and getting me some long-desired action. Dr. Kurpreet was gone, any remnants are getting fucked out tonight. From here on out, I am Hari, a cute guy in a big town with big dreams of being the most lustful male stripper around!

#transformation #bodysuit #gay

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kaalboishakhi · 10 months

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the headache and a cold doesn't seem to go away. i have a thousand pending assignments and too much work lined up leading straight to pre boards. there's so much wrong with life, but at least i can smell the winter in the air. i think I love the days leading up to diwali more than diwali itself. the streets are crowded with women who have mehendi on their hands, and someone else is holding all their stuff. the street food is better. there is light everywhere. people shop together. there's so much chaos, but in a beautiful way. you feel so much more loved.

#words #desi tumblr #romanticism #poetry #desiblr #desi culture #art #diwali #being desi #desi tag #desi moodboard #poets corner #desi aesthetic #desi writes #literature #ambu's

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horizon-verizon · 1 year

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I am Palestinian and there is absolutely no characteristic of Palestinian culture in Dorne or the Martells. Their stans only use racial stereotypes about us & orientalist characterization to justify it and prove that the Dornish are “POC” in order to make them seem oppressed, and are pushing even more racism and orientalism towards MENA populations.

According to them, the Dornish are simultaneously Arab, Desi, Amazigh, Iranians, Turkish, and sometimes, Latinos. North African, West Asian, and South Asian countries are lump together as one monolithic “brown people” entity. 30+ countries with multiple, unique, and diverse cultures and religions, very distinct from each other. The Martells simultaneously celebrate Diwali and goes to Hajj. Why would the Dornish follow Hinduism or Islam ?? They largely follow the Faith of the Seven, the Westerosi Catholic Church.

For their edits, they use pictures of the Alcazar of Seville or the Alhambra, castles located in SPAIN, and fancast drop-dead gorgeous INDIANS actresses like Deepika Padukone, Freida Pinto, Aishwarya Rai as Elia (“a kitchen drab”....) or adult Rhaenys. Or Dev Patel as Young Griff. They keep using the screenshot of GRRM listing Palestine as one of his inspiration for Dorne to justify their headcanons, so why do they keep insisting on using Bollywood movies, Indian actors, Indian monuments, saris, etc ?? The only common points between the Alcazar of Seville/Alhambra and the Taj Mahal are the Islamic architecture and the engraving of Quranic verses.

Disclaimer: EDITED, Long, and Repetitive bc of attempt at clarity and Reminding Readers

Maybe coming from this post (I've gone back and edited it with corrections)?

I think it's because people really want to see PoC representation in their high fantasy literature, which is completely valid. However, yeah, the Dornish aren't Palestinian-coded nor Arab/SouthAsian/etc.-coded...I mean, they mainly worship the Seven, too, the Westerosi polytheistic version of Catholicism. So they can't necessarily be 1-1 like Palestine in terms of culture & ethnicity, even though the ME does have Judaism & Christian peoples. Again, Dorne--as far as was told & shown--mainly worship the Seven. (look to section "B", point #1)

The Point: A singular major, past, centuries-old event of intermarriage before the Targs arrived is not a continuous event. The Dornish are nor and have never been subjected to become a state under the Westerosi crown for there to even be a commencement of racialization as by the would-be conquerors of said situation.

The Rhoynar marrying pre-Rhoynar Dornish peoples happened in a few isolated incidents. Afterward, the people became what they now are and after many decades & centuries,

THEREFORE,

they do not have that "two people" identity anymore. They are just "Dornish".

Their ancestry is always brought up mainly because of their custom of noblewomen being equally as able and seen as worthy to rule as their men, esp the Martells. To compare them to Westerosi farther up.

Doylistically, on the one hand, people could claim that the Dornish could claim PoC-ness or be easily adapted into being played by PoC actors in the real modern sense by who they are descended from -> an Essosi people who had darker skin. Yet the Valyrians and Andals--who themselves come from Essos originally!--are "white" by the 1st being "proto-English with a Catholic religious analog and the 2nd being an ancient Rome-analog"?!

The Dornish are not Rhoynish either just because they are descended from the Rhoynar who--a very long time ago (centuries, before the conquest)--intermarried with Andal-descended lords and presumably smallfolk. Ethnically, they are something else entirely (maybe Andal-Rhoynar but that seems insufficient) their own thing from their unique history.

So, we have "Moor" descendants marrying "white" Christian Spaniards. So, like Spaniards and Italians, they seem the "lesser whites" which still makes N.Euro descent and N.Euro look at Italians, Spaniards, or those in Central EU as "lesser whites". Meaning that they have both Andal and Rhoynish roots with the Rhoynish equal primogeniture and opener-sexuality and little-to-no bastard stigma really defining its difference from those Westerosi further north. Dorne is a state with various skin-colored but seemingly non-racialized people (internally, not how the Andal-FM nor Daeron I characterize Dorne) and the Dornish people are a unique ethnic group.

And because race has always been about power and not culture. And the Dornish have always maintained their independence before Daeron II when they voluntarily--for the most part--finally became a vassal state under the feudal royal crown of Westeros.

Before I get into it, "olive" skin is supposed to mean:

moderate or lighter tan or brownish skin, and it is often described as having tan, brown, cream, greenish, yellowish, or golden undertones

Therefore, anyone of any race can have an "olive" tone to their skin:

I was one of those who watched the show before I read the book, and I thought the Martells were PoC and I did some research. Apparently, Oberyn looks like this to one semi-canon source:

🎨 Credit: Magali Villeneuve

And his description:

has the features of a salty Dornishman [more below in section C, but: "These Dornishmen are lithe and dark, with smooth olive skin and long black hair, having been most strongly influenced by the Rhoynar"]. He is a tall, slender, graceful, and fit man, and has a lined and saturnine face with thin eyebrows, black "viper" eyes and a sharp nose. His hair is lustrous and black, with only a few silver streaks, and recedes from his brow in a widow's peak.

Arianne looks something like this in one source:

🎨: tiziano baracchi

Darker than "olive" Her description:

is buxom and beautiful, with olive skin, large dark eyes and long, thick black hair that falls in ringlets to the middle of her back. She has full lips, a husky voice, and round ripe breasts with huge dark nipples. Favoring her mother Mellario, Arianne is short, standing at five foot two.

Mellario was from the Essosi "Free City" city of Norvos but their skin color is not really described.

Oberyn's daughters all have different complexions and mothers of different origins, Westerosi and Essosi (all descriptions from the official wiki):

Obara -- "big-boned woman near to thirty, long-legged, with close-set eyes and with the same rat-brown hair of her mother which she sometimes ties in a knot. She strides quickly and angrily. Obara has callused hands and can have a mannish look." -- mother: unnamed Oldtown prostitute

Nymeria -- "slim and slender as a willow, with straight black hair worn in a long braid which pulls back from a widow's peak. She has dark eyes which are large and lustrous. Her full lips are wine red and curve in a silken smile, and she has high cheekbones. Areo Hotah describes Nym as having pale white skin in A Feast for Crows but mentions her olive skin in A Dance with Dragons." -- unnamed noble Volantene, specifically of the "Old Blood" - Volantis, another Free City in Essos

Tyene -- "is fair, with golden hair and deep blue eyes. Dimples bloom in her cheeks, and she has a gentle, sweet voice" -- mother: a septa from the Reach

Sarella -- "light brown skin" -- mother: the Summer Islander captain of The Feathered Kissed ship

Elia -- black hair/"her black braid flying behind her" (The Winds of Winter, Arianne I) -- mother: Ellaria Sand

Obella, Dorea, and Loreza -- no description as of Nov 5, 2023 -- mother: Ellaria Sand

Ellaria Sand is supposed to look like this:

🎨: amok

Her description:

Although not accounted as a beautiful woman, Ellaria is regarded as attractive and eye-catching, with an exotic, sensuous flair. She has black hair.

AND

"black-haired paramour" & "She is not truly beautiful, she [Sansa] thought, but something about her draws the eye." (A Storm of Swords; Sansa IV)

And Doran Martell (currently reigning as the Prince of Dorne) has no canonical physical description aside from "His body is soft and shapeless, and the gout has swollen and reddened the joints of his knees, toes, and hands." However, since he is Oberyn's brother we can assume that he most likely has similar "salty Dornish" coloring.

The anon of the first linked post all the way up above: "GRRM himself has said that the closest equivalent of Dorne to the real world is the Moorish influences of Spain, and mentions PALESTINE and Wales as being two other influences. Literally his own words. Even in Game of Thrones, they filmed the Water Garden scenes in the Alcazar of Seville, a beautiful Moorish castle in Spain. That castle was literally built by Muslims and incorporates verses from the Quran and countless traditional Arabic and Islamic architectural elements".

You: "there is absolutely no characteristic of Palestinian culture in Dorne or the Martells. Their stans only use racial stereotypes about us & orientalist characterization to justify it and prove that the Dornish are “POC” in order to make them seem oppressed, and are pushing even more racism and orientalism towards MENA populations" AND "North African, West Asian, and South Asian countries are lump together as one monolithic “brown people” entity." AND "They keep using the screenshot of GRRM listing Palestine as one of his inspiration for Dorne to justify their headcanons, so why do they keep insisting on using Bollywood movies, Indian actors, Indian monuments, saris, etc ?? The only common points between the Alcazar of Seville/Alhambra and the Taj Mahal are the Islamic architecture and the engraving of Quranic verses."

If we are talking about race vs ethnicity & the rise of racism from religious or ethnic differences and a desire for colonial domination...

Dornish people mainly live in their own principality or a kind of state controlled by a "prince" or "princess" that is actually unlike the Rhoynar cities because there were multiple "city-states" under several Rhoynar princes and princesses who, while sharing a language, also likely had different laws and sub-styles of the dress and think of themselves as culturally/ethnically different from each other.

Thus in terms of Dornish people being oppressed or experiencing racial oppression alone (bc with race comes the oppression you cannot separate these twon phenomena since race as a constuct was specifically created for several human right violations and power hierarchies), we cannot compare Dornish people nor the Dornish state to Palestinian refugees and Palestinians living under an apartheid. They are not the same, they are not living under the same conditions of racial or ethnic terror. And yes, a lot of Palestinian people out of this region of the Middle East draw a large part of their Palestinian identity from their memories and terms with the Nakba and the effects of said event that exist today and have been for more than 50 years. What I'd say is similar is that many Dornish may also draw some of their identity from their continued resistance to conquest...but the Dornish are not resisting ethnic cleansing, genocide, or racial extinction. The first Targaryen attempts at conquest were decidedly non-ethnic-cleansing so much as just your average kind of "conquest" that Andal, nonDornish Westerosi have performed against each other before the Daenys and her father ever settled at Dragonstone. Yes, Westerosi can be xenophobic towards Dornishmen but that includes the "stone", fair-skinned Dornishmen as we see from the continuous marcher vs Dornish conflicts over land & grudges/vendettas over past conflicts/deaths.

What are some traits of Palestinians or Palestinian culture that another anon was trying to say the Dornish currently have?

"Game of Thrones"--"filmed the Water Garden scenes in the Alcazar of Seville, a beautiful Moorish"

"the Quran and countless traditional Arabic and Islamic architectural elements"

"Moorish", as Medieval and early-mod period EUs used, referred to Muslim Arab-speakers. Aside from North Africans, Arabs, and Amazigh did include Muslim Europeans, because Islam itself was the defining basis for their difference from those Christian Europeans and the regions where people who adopted Islam or Islamic states dominated where those N.Africans, Arabs, and Amazigh lived. In a medieval context, DOUBLY SO.

Once again, Dorne does not worship any Rhoynish god & their official religion is decidedly of the Faith of the Seven (aside from those of the Greenblood, but these are not a large part, a dominant, nor very influential part of the Dornish population).

Nowhere did GRRM say that the Welsh inspiration only applied to the stony Dornish. Why do people think this? Perhaps because these are the ones closest to the Marches and thus fighting often with Reach/Stormland marchers, they'd be the most Welsh/Irish-like. The Welsh/Irish/Scottish inspiration, however, is the fight for separation from a conquering centralizing entity--societal/governmental separation from the rest of Westeros--& having a separate identity from that almost like Northmen seeing themselves as different culturally and ethnically from "southorn" Andal people and vice versa bc of their different customs regarding the allowed genders to rule that come from Rhoynar customs.

While there will be Rhoynish elements to fashion, architecture, metalworking, and inflection of the Common Tongue (accent)...it does not stop the Dornish from, again:

recognizing that their state language is the Common Tongue [the Red Princes & some of their descendants of the Martells tried to eradicate the use of the Rhoynish language from the Red Princes] even though many of the Dornish's accents are very influenced by the Rhoynar to the current day

worshipping the Seven and not Rhoynish gods

having some elements of Andal fashion and architecture along with Andal ones, even if the "stony" Dornish have more Andal influence in dress, etc. [think of Spain and its Arab or Islamic architecture...Spain is a European country]

having a class system similar to Andal-FM Westeros: aristocracy, or the "ruling class" vs everyone else [less about the culture here, more about hierarchy structure which is not the same as a culture]

No matter how far down south or into the desert we go. Of course, dress will change in different Dornish regions' climates but also by class and/or wealth.

And this is said screenshot of GRRM talking about the influences that made Dorne what it is ("So Spake Martin", 2000):

"flavor given the culture [previous Andal Dorne preNymeria] by the great Rhoynar influx"

"South of the wall a hot, dry country more like Spain or Palestine [not just Palestine, and this was referring to climate in the first place, not culture]"

"Moorish influence [not dominant power or overlord] in parts of Spain [not an African, Asian, etc. region, again, emphasis on it being like Spain with an "outsider" "influence"]"

"Dorne is Wales mixed with Spain and Palestine with some entirely imaginary influences mixed in" [emphasis on Dorne being claimed as an amalgamation with just one PoC real-world state with PoC populations]

People need to see GRRM's "mixing and matching", and no "non-for-one transplants" regarding PoC influences. Westeros, though obviously an England/Anglo-Saxon "transplant", is still not exactly historically like England in that Dorne is similar but not equal to Wales or Spain or Turkey/Palestine yet not itself equal to a Caliphate due to religion and language.

However, aside from the Dornish not really even being a part of a racialized state under a dominant power racialized as superior, this is what GRRM says about the Dornish and Martells (his blog, 2013):

This is about what GRRM said in terms of JUST physical appearance -> "As for the Dornishmen, well, though by and large I reject one to one analogies, I've always pictured the "salty Dornish" as being more Mediterranean than African in appearance; Greek, Spanish, Italian, Portugese, etc. Dark hair and eyes, olive skin. Pedro Pascal is Chilean. (Check out Amok's version of the Red Viper, that's how I saw him. Or Magali Villenueve's beautiful and sexy portrait of Princess Arianne)."

And this was one of the responses:

Most relevant piece bc it mirrors the anon's definitions of race: "If Alessandro de'Medici was the Duke of Florence, why not a brown man as the Prince of Dorne? Even now, with your description of Dorne as "Mediterranean," I immediately think of the vastness of the region, which saw so much North African and Middle Eastern influence."

This entire exchange on GRRM's website reveals that originally the Martells/most Dornish were inspired by EU Mediterranean people, like the Portuguese or Spaniards, Greeks and Italians.

While it's certainly possible bc of the proximity of geographical locations within the Mediterranean regions and the population makeup of various Italian states including "Moor" and darker-skinned folks, we don't know for absolutely certain if Alessandro de Medici truly had a slave-servant mother or otherwise an Arab/African mother--he was one man whom many in those upper circles wanted gone for their own rise to power.

Unfortunately, while there shouldn't be anything wrong with being of a woman with a different ethnicity or religion, claiming that he was from a "Moor" mother would be a way for other people to try to diminish his reputation and likeness-peerage with those in court as Alicent and the greens trying to claim Rhaenyra was unfaithful to Laenor and that her kids with him are actually bastards to ruin her reputation. It wouldn't be about the "truth" so much as swaying public opinion with certain details of appearance. A political strategy.

At the same time, who knows, perhaps they used the fact of him looking darker than a lot of EUs around them...but the EUs themselves have married N.Africans and also came in several "shades"...so yeah.

If we are only talking Watsoniansly/in-world/in-text vs modern ethnic (not racial) identities, your mother being a "Moor" or Muslim did not make you yourself a Muslim, Moor, or racially "Black" or Arab, and "biracial"/"mixed race"--as a racial term or category of Blackness or whiteness--wasn't a thing for these Italians.

One man/a few people in higher circles or in power doesn't make the entire family or state PoC when most of them appear pale, speak a specific Italian dialect, AND live under European customs forever after and before.

His presence did not recreate the entire Medici or anyone descended from them into Africans/Arabs ethnically nor racially. "Racially", he would have been seen as "more" "noble Italian Christian" than anything, even with some using his skin to liken him to the socially suspected, racialized "Moors". And just because there were absolutely NA. and M.E. influences in many non-EU and EU music, literature, architecture, etc., doesn't make every Mediterranean person PoC. (We find out that the idea of courtly love partially was influenced by an Islamic mystical conception of love itself as being "a delightful disease, as demanding of faithful service" [coming from Crusade contact]. It doesn't suddenly mean that "Italy" [one of the first regions to pass down such things through Petrarch] became/was/is a PoC region. Still doesn't make Italians PoC.)

RACE - Mediterranean/Italian/Spaniard/Portuguese/Southern Europeans have BOTH been racialized as "lesser" whites in early modern period European AND have the closest proximity to the "best" whiteness that always becomes THE definition of "white" under pre-WWII phrenology and eugenic scientific racism. "Best" becomes "true", never leaving its own hierarchy but always able to retreat back into its own "absolute naturality" to justify that created hierarchy. These two things came hand in hand and justified each other because both sought to "prove" that "biological and behavioral characteristics were fixed and unchangeable, and placed individuals, populations and nations inside of that hierarchy" through skull measurements...which itself comes from that medieval idea of one's "nobility" or lack thereof being indicative in appearance.

As I said above, even today, some white people of Protestant-N.European backgrounds sometimes look at Italians/Italian-descent people through their stereotypes of being "hotblooded", and hypersexual "white" people. This is most definitely an element of racialization. These "other" whites are those descended from the NorthWestern regions of Europe (England, France, Germany, and Scandinavia/Nordic people).

c. HOWEVER!!!!! [now we're talking TV adaptations]

The user in the pics above who wished for more PoC representation in the TV and book series through the Martells makes a good point that "Mediterranean" doesn't have to be limited to the European Med regions and peoples. Because N.African, ME, etc. peoples (those not racially classified as "white") are also directly connected to the Mediterranean Sea: Turkey, Egypt, Palestine, Libya, Algeria, etc...it's weird how race makes us consider these people not Mediterranean, but that's race for you, it denies culture and ethnicity for the sake of "white" supremacy

GRRM does conflate the general Mediterranean with EU Med, and that's because the racial category "Mediterranean" defines "Mediterranean" as "white people from Spain, Italy, etc"

While there weren't "black", "PoC", "brown" racial categorizations in any Arthurian legends nor the societies that these came from, there were racializations (as in descriptions and sense of the person that made them different by look by some "degree" even if not toally by "kind") of characters that were told to be of different/non-EU origins.

they were expressing the racial problems with GRRM's original intent for the Martells and some Dornish to be imagined as those who'd be categorized as PoC or brown in the modern world, telling us that there is room for PoC in-world leaders and nobles as there were in Arthurian legends and other medieval romances

They were right to point out the overall, serious difference in how most PoC-confirmed or imagined or similar people were more "supporting characters" to specific "white" characters and that there was a transmedia need for more diversity where the PoC-acted/played characters in adaptations since the original works AND adaptations are made for racialized audiences of the modern world.

Like with Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre--where Rochester's first, "mad" wife, Jamaica-born, Creole-heritage Bertha Mason, aka Bertha Antoinetta Rochester--we see a lot of debate over characters' racial identities between white and PoC readers in multiple EU pieces of literature. This is a thing descended from that academic conflict that is sociopolitically motivated.

The documented hot refusal from many white historians and "lay" white readers to even contemplate the possibilities of a PoC-featured-character (positively or not) under certain circumstances comes from the enduring acceptance and expectation that most mainstream media will have whiteness at the center and default of the story. That the media is created and will be created and should be created for white audiences. which is exactly what we should be breaking.

So, I believe that the reason we have people saying the Martells are PoCs is because they saw the definite potential of modern racialization from the precursors of true racial categories happening in ASoIaF that can become like those in real modern societies; they wanted to see themselves or their experiences in the fiction they engage with, just like that user above. Just like that commentator. So they use South East Asian clothes and other things to fan cast/re-cast/reimagine even after what GRRM has made bc before then they have already built that picture for years since they read the main series and before the show aired.

When English/NW Europeans and pre-1800s writers say things like "swarthy" or "tall, dark, and handsome", they were not usually saying this person was as dark as a Western African but they may sometimes use racial/color ideology to characterize a EU white person as "too passionate", "blustering", "angry", and "lacking enough proper restraint". GRRM is the same, as he tells us in the picture above from his blog!

And since we can't always detect a person's race or lineage just by looking at them, it also still means that they may have African or Middle Eastern ancestry. Then we got to ask ourselves when and where do some of our (mostly the U.S. I refer to, but other countries' racial categories are still very different) definitions of race need to overshadow the text/past racial categorizations and racializations? It's even stranger when you realize that even caring about something like this comes from a very specific history series of particular events of people performing racialization.

But even though the now-Dornish are a people who have been forever changed by pre-Rhoynar Dornish men's intermarriages with Rhoynar women, their kids (and not the nonDornish Westerosi) were the ones to determine what Dorne would look like.

Though they seem to match the definition of a "mixed race" and therefore are equal to persons racialized as "PoC" today, in many societies like the U.S. (one-drop and grandfather clause), that simply doesn't exist for Dorne because there was no nonDornish oppressive power that defined legal racial definitions that affected their infrastructure or made them second-class citizens for them to then develop their own ethnicity like Black people in the U.S, which is its own race-ethnicity developed from legal and economic atrocities and racialization.

Most of the oppression common-born Dornish face is from Dornish aristocracy! Class-based rather than race or religion-based.

Yeah, there's a possibility that some people felt a sort of having two different identities as the kids and even grandkids of Nymeria's women and the pre-Rhoynar Dornish men, but without that element of another group enforcing a new racialization to further divide the Dornish (as Daeron I foreshadows or clues us in?!) all there is that shared history and Martell overlordship, and the Martells are one of those with the most Rhoynish/not-Andal-FM influence. Of course, most of Dorne will follow suit. There are no laws in place to determine who is "PoC", "Coloured", or "white" or any ASoIaF-fantasy version. They have a past/centuries-old and successful intermarrying between (mainly male) Martells and Nymeria's (mostly female) people WHILE having the same language and religion as the rest of Westeros, as well as other customs.

With the way GRRM made them, they are both "white" and not "white" (according to NorthWestern Europeans of the 1800s onwards) because "whiteness" as an actual race is not a thing in Westeros. And for the sake of readers looking for people to claim to have PoCness, whiteness itself has undergone several definitions according to the immediate political needs of those holding the higher positions of power or influence in the state or groups within states seeking political privileges from being racialized by that dominant society's legal and social systems.

This means they can be as "dark" as GoT Oberyn and even have what some modern people see as Arabic physical features (which kinda makes little sense bc Arabs share a lot of features with some "Med" Europeans, especially Turkish ones and Palestinian Arabs themselves have a spectrum of color, face shape, etc.) but we also see how they can be quite diverse in the canon with paler "stony" (not a true ethnicity, this is a racial category that Dornsih people do not see to acknowledge and therefore is not an ethnicity) people and Oberyn's paler daughter Tyene.

Refrain: The Summer Islanders, though, ARE DEFINITELY the "Black" people of Westeros. As GRRM says in the pic I showed.

Again, "race" existed AND continues to exist to differentiate the "inferior" people from the "superior" "white" race of paler-skinned, loose/flat-haired, North-Western-then-South European peoples whose ancestors they could trace or identify with most were Christians. Whether in Brazil, all EU countries, the U.S., etc. Yes, European people/countires can be and continue to be extremely discriminatory and racist, esp against Africans and Romans. Individually and legally.

In the modern world, race is categorized differently across today's world, as evidenced by what "black" means in Brazil vs the U.S.; the South African Coloured group vs "black" vs "white" vs "Indian" (apartheid race categories, and "Coloured" still is relevant and a sort of racial category in S.Africa today); "mestizos" vs "peninsulares" vs "mulattos" of various colonizations-slavery era-to-today S.American, Mesoamerican, Caribbean countries. All because "race" is a socially constructed category, made by culturally-ethnically external persons of power over another group. Ethnicity, however, is and has always been a factually independent phenomenon.

"PoCs" as a term in itself a racial term that means "anyone who is not pale skinned AND of long, consistently 'uninterrupted'/'impure'/ European descent". It is not an ethnic term or a name for an ethnic group.

Ethnicities are social groupings purely based on shared cultural heritage, descent (from specific other ethnicities), culture, religion, and/or language.

In this way, there are 3 main ethnicities in the whole of "Westeros", which are those of FM, Andal, and Rhoynish descent and we could even argue that there may be more unknown smaller groups. And none of these are racial groups! Two of the three also share the exact same religion and language and most customs barring sexuality and primogeniture (except those of the Greenblood, who still speak Rhoynish): those of Andal and those of Rhoynish descent. First Men-descent peoples of the North worship the old gods of pre-human Westeros.

Intermarriages between certain ethnic groups were not systematically and socially outlawed or discouraged to maintain the visible and legal distinctions between racialized groups in either Dorne nor not-Dorne. No ethnic or religious groups are banned from taking certain jobs or entering guilds; no particular groups were banned from living in certain areas or even traveling and using certain items and ways of travel. (We're talking about the humans, not the TWStSotE or the giants, bc we are doing ethnic groups, not totally different species.)

How do groups get racialized and prepped for legalized racialization? Governments--monarchies and aristocracies, here--attempting to better organize their control over populations and consolidate power after past and very recent conflicts with "foreigner-conquerors" like the Muslim conquest of Hispania by the Umayyad Caliphate, to whom the anon before referred (Limpieza de sangre).

Why are they "foreign", besides coming from a literally other region and culture? Medieval people's primary identity marker besides class was religion, and Muslims were considered actual enemies of Christian societies in Europe. People saw religion as the means by which people were "inherently" different:

Especially in a period like the Middle Ages, when religion meant membership of a community much more than adherence to a set of principles or beliefs, there was a sense in which one was born a Christian, a Muslim, or a Jew, just as one was born English or Persian. ("Medieval and Modern Concepts of Race and Ethnicity"--Robert Bartlett)

This is also why in medieval literature, Jewish people were referred to as "black" and "dark-skinned" pseudo-metaphorically, as Christians had the "true" faith and therefore were spiritually "bright" or closer to God's "light". And humoral theory, with Jewish people being conceived of as a people with a more melancholic constitution (black bile = melancholy -> night, evil, malice, envy):

The Isagogue, an Arabic introduction to Galenic medicine translated into Latin in the eleventh century, similarly explains that dark skin identifies black bile as the body's ruling humor. (8) The linking of black or dark skin with melancholy continues in European texts of the twelfth and thirteenth century. Short poems delineating humoral types circulate widely in the period; the "Melancholicus" is described as "envious and sad, greedy and close-fisted / not without deceit, fearful, and of mud color [lutei]. ("The Jewish body in black and white in medieval and early modern England"--M. Lindsay Kaplan)

Thus Jewish people were named "black" for their nonChristian-ness and thereby untrustworthy or "grasping" natures.

Then there is the separate history of the idea that "nobility" (as in "bravery", "virtue", and overall "good and attractive 'quality'") could be seen outwardly and obviously through physical features that curiously never actually get a consistent list or picture until the 1200s-1300s (it's always been at least grey eyes and/or blonde hair). We have to remember that the ancient Greeks and Romans were used as the medieval Europeans' inspirations for medicine, morality, philosophy, beauty standards, etc., and they themselves did not give highly detailed portraits of what makes a person "beautiful" or even in just describing women in other than vague, noncomparable terms or singular traits: Athena had "grey-eyes" and that's it...Aphrodite's hair was "long", Briseais was "tall", Chiseas was "not tall", and Hera had "nice arms". Their main concern was what men looked like and if their bodies looked "strong".

It wasn't until poets and bards of the 1200-1300s began to make lists of more features that made women attractive that we get more detailed portraits of "good-looking" people and men vs women attractiveness. (For women, the "best" became to have small and high breasts, grey eyes, blonde hair, pale skin, white teeth, a mouth like a rosebud in size and shape, wider hips, a plump butt, and finally a round and pudgy belly. Basically a "pear-shaped" body). And this turned into the literary device of the "blazon", which the medieval poets (Petrarch popularized it) and later early-modern period poets, dramatists, and other writers, as PoetryFoundation says:

A literary blazon (or blason) catalogues the physical attributes of a subject, usually female. The device was made popular by Petrarch and used extensively by Elizabethan poets.

describing and making the body as a list of individual parts instead of its own whole thing, so that parts of the body can be compared to other things and thus give a certain characterization to the subject that way. The subject themselves becomes less themselves and more the perspective and "dream" of the writer/audience.

And "racial and racist stereotypes—even ostensibly positive ones (such as “Asians are good at math”)—by definition, conflate and confuse biology and culture" ("Were Medieval People Racist?").

Combined -> the setup(s) for early modern-to-current racializations.

We do see some of this sort of attempt or precursor of solid racial categorization from the nonDornish towards Dornish people regardless of class: "salty", "sandy", "stony", and less known, those people who still speak Rhoynish and live by the Greenblood:

The "salty" vs "sandy" vs "stony" things are all exonymic proto-racial categorizations (like the term "Moor") that still don't present different real racial consequences among those Dornish.

Exonymic? Meaning that they are not categorizations made by the native people--noble or not.

It's not like Daeron I would have out-of-the-blue been able to create these categories without there already existing a socialized link between Rhoynish culture and "negative", not-patriarchal-enough nobility. Rhoynish influence/culture directly defines these categories. (But he didn't impose nor did an entire other group of people impose infrastructural change to Dornish society for the sake of their own created racial supremacy...ever.)

There are/were several battles and skirmishes between Stormlanders, Dornish, people of the Dornish Marches, and Reachmen Dornish. AWoIaF relates, "hot-bloodedness and sexual licentiousness, and are still viewed with some mistrust and rivalry by the people of the neighboring Dornish Marches and the Reach". Dorne's equal primogeniture (i.e., far less intense and critical misogyny) and freer sexuality are those things that are made more definitive of the Dornish's political difference and separation from the non-Dornish aristocrats at least at the time of Daeron II's court and marriage [zaldrizer-sovesi] AND "race" as a concept does not track equal to what we consider "race" and those racial experiences PoCs have in modern societies despite these definitions WHILE still indicating ethnic discrimination.

It's funny, because rather than the Jewish "melancholia" described above, the Dornish, by their nonDornish association, would be considered a "sanguine-choleric" people for their "hotbloodeness" and "sexual licentiousness" that really comes from:

a long history of skirmishes with other Andal peoples, then the first 3 Targs and still surviving as their own state, then those eternal ones for revenge and small pieces of resources between houses along the borders of Dorne to the north...leading to the fierce Dornish independent identity

comparatively freer sexualities and fewer sexual restrictions on gender roles (men and women, as men having sex with other men is very taboo and emasculating in the ND, "100%" Andal-FM culture)

and not treating women leaders as an anathema (equal primogeniture)

Yes, there is no racial Dornish diaspora like there is a Jewish or Black diaspora ("the dispersion or spread of a people from their original homeland" usually due to wars, violence, displacement, etc.). With Dorne and Dornish people being politically and culturally independent--both in idea and practically since before Daeron II's marriage to Myriah Martell--there were definitely Dornish people moving in and out of nonDornish Westeros and some would inevitably live in ND Westeros, these people are migrants-dual-subjects of a state that is still in all the ways it matters, independent. unlike Black people in the U.S. or Coloureds in S. Africa, whose governments historically and currently gave/enforced these categories developed from European-to-settler/colonist racialization. And unlike anti-Semitic/Islamophobic laws & anti-blackness and other real-world measures, there is no evidence of any oppressive laws or daily discrimination against Dornish communities (I'll say the Sylvenna Sand of Dance fame is an indication of Westerosi patriarchy looking at Dornish less-intense patriarchy as a lesser-"dangerous" identity maker).

Their "racial?" identities also do (yet, if it will go exactly like real life) not have the oppressive or racial context that enables people to argue that Rhaegar left Elia, didn't love her, or valued her and her position as his wife because he felt racially superior to her--esp with how we have no literary (symbols, metaphors, parallels in-text) nor direct evidence of Rhaegar seeing Elia through a racial bias as his father does with Rhaenys their daughter when she was presented (which is what this entire thing came from, as Elia/Martells stans claimed and what drives that argument in this post/reblog HERE).

It is that the Dornish will be considered the lesser "race" if there ever came a time when they were ever truly conquered and imperialized by ND peoples from Westeros. For now, it is far more accurate to say that there is ethnic bias against the Dornish or the Martells that could slide into racism.

GRRM created a world and fantasy series that is trying to simulate a medieval racialization of people WHILE also inevitably showing the roots of modern civilization, which are two different forms of racialization that are nevertheless connected. In other words, GRRM hasn't successfully made 1-1 analogs concerning race.

But does "origin"="being"? How and why?

Therefore, we do see a race or race existing in Westerosi ideologies, but it is BOTH not as prominent as how they regard how women should be treated AND comparatively more fluid to modern-day race and even changeable.

Refrain: The Summer Islanders, though, ARE DEFINITELY the "Black" people of Westeros. As GRRM says in the pic I showed. I have to repeat this because I can see people trying to take advantage of it.

In All...

A people of the first few "mixed" Rhoynar and "100%" Andal Dornish children from intermarriages that are no longer just "mixed" individuals. To claim that they are anything else is to begin the process of racialization, as such a phenomenon (intermarriages between previously separated ethnic groups to become a new distinct one) actually happens more often than not, and to make it unique to just the Dornish is to Other it for racial categorization, as NonDornish aristocrats probably would do. Fans refer to the state of "Westeros" as a "nation", it was not a nation but a territory of several states and smaller fiefs owned by nobles who collected taxes from local peasantry and probably gave a portion of that to the King/Monarch, keeping the "King's peace" (feudalism). The reason why there is a divide between "NonDornish" and Dornish people is the measure of how much Andal vs. Rhoynish culture makes the infrastructures and political practices in the respective regions, and there just so happens to be much more Andal-influenced regions and more people than Rhoynish-influenced without Andal culture becoming either true or "official" overlords over Dornish people in any unique or oppressive way different from how the Monarch is the "overlord" over a Stark, Karstark, Tarly, Hightower, Lannister, etc.

I think anon from that ask is saying that GRRM intended for the (arbitrary number) 80% of Dorne (therefore "Dorne") to be PoC and thereby make it a PoC state/people through choosing to mix several ME, SE, and N. African cultures's properties into a new fictional "Rhoynar" people. To them, this mix-match defines the Dornish as PoC because they see the Dornish people as being a "mixed-race" group of individuals like biracial children of modern interracial couples, and they continue to be biracial exactly as conceived until the current time of ASoIaF.

However, the modern "mixed-race" depends on the already existing races created by the world one lives in and only can be active and politically real races within a society with such definitions and dynamics of race built into its legal & education systems.

Still, though PoCs are historically and currently oppressed groups (aside from EU Jews, who were/are white and were continually oppressed) in places where European imperialism and colonialism reshaped previous societies, it's not correct nor wise to say that all or most PoCs draw their very being/humanity from discriminatory violence alone instead of the racialization oppressive groups performed because identity itself is not as simple or absolute and enduring as race and oppressive regimes try/tried to make. Or their ethnicity, like Black Americans. It's just that:

racial identity is political identity, not inherent or made "true" by those oppressive forces, that is exactly what those oppressors want (proving "might" = "right")

Elia would never have experienced anything equal to even what a richer PoC person does in the U.S. in terms of race

the Dornish are not PoCs!

Refrain: The Summer Islanders, though, ARE DEFINITELY the "Black" people of Westeros. As GRRM says in the pic I showed.

#asoiaf asks to me #asoiaf race #dorne #asoiaf ethnicities #elia martell #the martells #self correction #dornish ethnicities

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