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phantalgia · 24 days

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We Need Community Care Not Self Care and Why Current Community Sucks

TW: Talk of unaliving oneself and some violence!

Self-care is quite the buzzword. It's everywhere and it's a term, along with self-love, that I don’t get. There isn't anything unique to self-care as a concept. Taking care of yourself isn't anything new. You take a walk, you take a nice bath, you play a cute cozy game. What is so unique about it? Why is it all the talk?

Self-Care Creates a Docile Class

One of the most disheartening conversations I had with someone was someone who works in education who had a co-worker take their own life from being overworked. This person then became a big advocate for self-care. But I had to ask why they aren't challenging the structures at be that require people to work themselves up to that point? Again, there is nothing wrong with a break, that's not the point. Perhaps at the time I didn't quite have the words to properly convey what I meant.

My concern had been that they deflected a systemic problem onto an individual one that can only be solved through taking care of oneself. Sometimes even practicing consumerism as a form of self care or meeting certain beauty standards via the beauty industry.

Self-care is a new form of rugged individualism and engaging the affected individual in crisis through consumerism or further alienation. Again, nothing wrong with needing time away from people. Capitalism deprives humanity from people, it strips away at any semblence of concious awareness of other people.

Capitalist industries find new ways to integrate and maintain a docile class of people by reconciling with human needs and production needs. This is what the self-care industrial complex does. It also goes into a greater critique of the role of psychiatry as a whole within the capitalist framework, which I will save for another time.

I was disappointed with the conversation I was having with this person. I was sympathetic to their cause and I think their heart is in the right place but they just were not thinking bigger, beyond themselves. There didn't seem to be an awareness at all that human beings are mutually dependent on each other.

We must break free from this self-care system. Again, not breaking free from the very need for people to take breaks as needed, but that system and line of thinking. Self-care becomes a tool to focus on the 'I' that is damaged rather than the society, the 'us', that is deeply damaged.

Community Care Not Self-Care

Now that I have removed self-care from being associated with the natural need for humans to take breaks. And have discussed that self-care is more of a tool to maintain the status quo. We need an alternative.

I think community care is of the upmost importance. This can indirectly impact the individual as well. Community care should emphasize the rights of individuals in working spaces to take the time off they need while maintaining a greater sense of control over their environment.

Community care can manifest in other ways besides worker agency. Mutual aid efforts such as crisis intervention, community respect and understanding of individual needs, fostering a healthy social ecosystem to rely on when needed, more alternatives than just indulging in consumerism.

So what would community care do for the individual?

Worker autonomy and control over their work which would allow them to decide when they need a break (worker self management)

Disentanglement from oppressive and heirarchal structures that reduce human beings to robots

A community to rely on for mutual aid assistance

A sense of agency and control over ones life

The ability to free oneself and feel their own self growth and community growth

But I have some concerns about our vision of community...

Community is Not What it Once Was Nor Ever Was

Over the past few decades it has been recorded that communities were dying. Less and less people were going out and seeing each other. This has been documented by Robert D. Putnam in his book "Bowling Alone" and you can watch a video here from the Gravel Institute:

youtube

Community seems to have always been soured, however. Community just can't be taken away from the fact that people grow up in liberal democracies and capitalist cultures. So therefore, they really can't see any alternative in structuring themselves. This is why many Hippie communes have failed in the 60s - 70s. Community soon then became what brands or subcultures you belonged to which are still extensions of the capitalist culture.

With the rise of the internet in the middle of the neoliberal New Democrat era of the 90s, it seems as though community found itself a home on the World Wide Web.

The Californian Ideology

Amidst the backlash against the bureaucratic New Deal era, there seemed to be fear of a State Socialist model coming soon to America. This can be seen from the New Left and New Right movements at the time. What eventually came out of it was "The Californian Ideology". It's an essay to be exact, critiqueing 1990s Silicon Valley for its mishmash of neoliberal policies combining with New Left and New Right ideals. What came out of it can be best summed up by the late Carmen Hermosillo's essay 'Pandora's Vox: On Community in Cyberspace':

"i have seen many people spill their guts on-line, and i did so myself until, at last, i began to see that i had commodified myself. commodification means that you turn something into a product which has a money-value" - Carmen Hermosillo

It's a scathing critique on the fakeness of cyberspace, and the transfer of power to corporations. It holds prophetic to what would become in the future as the internet grew and became fundamental in the development of Gen Z and now Gen Alpha.

You can see more about "The Californian Ideology" in the following:

Adam Curtis' "All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace"

Then and Now's video:

youtube

The Community Just Isn't Right Online

I have in my experience been in a lot of communities online and noticed a pattern. Many of these communities and even people often mimic the real world or reflect it. Not just in the way they structure themselves like liberal democracies or a corporation, but often culturally and socially.

These communities and the people in them can often be toxic or "too nice". I often believe that this is both a form of escapism and to feel a sense of control in their lives. The troll wants to escape the real world by being an exaggeration of how they feel about the real world. Angry and frustrated. Or maybe they lack control and power in their lives so they like to make people feel bad. Then you have the opposite side. The toxic positivity. They want to escape the real world and create a vision of the world too beautiful that it's unrealistic. Or they want to feel like they can control people and make them feel good about themselves.

The inception of the internet and its communities on it require the context of real world history and social conditions. I have yet to see online communities and people as anything but an extention of these systems. And this is further fueled by free-market principles and corporate power.

Algorithms Are Stripping Us of Humanity

The other day on Twitter (Not calling it the other name) I got randomly recommended a fighting video. I got so mesmerized by it that I wanted more and more and kept digging myself further into this rabbit hole until I snapped out of it.

These algorithms and just internet culture in general is filled with this toxic garbage. How many times do I need to see the some dumb internet micro-celebrity get canceled? How many times do I need to see a 'Red Pilled' podcast of men talking about how men are becoming too weak? How many times do I need to see the next internet drama? The next guru who "has it all figured out"?

I just don’t think anyone has stepped back for a moment and went "Holy shit, this is insane and not good". And big tech companies are profiting off these algorithms that take advantage of these human vulnerabilities. Dividing us further, enducing us with ragebait, and shortening the attention spans of Gen Alpha.

Worse yet, it's stripping us of our own ability to make quality judgements and proper justice. Instead things become spectecle, we become commodities, brands. Whether if that's literally or metaphorically.

Free-market principles, corporate power have stripped away our humanity, it's turned the internet into a place where people express how they REALLY feel about the world. And this sours creativity within community structure and culture online. The internet has become a place of gaining status, a meritocracy of the most vile or the biggest "saints". It's allowed for people to be cyberbullied into ending their lives, massacred people in Myanmar, incited riots, and on and on. The belief that the internet is not real life is just not true.

If You're a Hammer Every Problem Looks Like a Nail

I think another problem that comes out from the fact that these social media companies and communities just mimick the real world is they don’t give out proper tools to create alternatives. So essentially, everyone is a hammer looking at problems as nails. If these platforms actually gave us the means to create alternative structures maybe things would be different and we'd have some progress.

I have dreamt of a day in which Discord would allow individuals to structure their servers in a decentralized manner. It can be sort of done with bots but not to such a great degree. Instead, it's you’re a moderator or not. But how cool would it be if they gave us the tools to create a server in which individuals with shared interests could be in their own space and create their own micro corners within that server. They still could be beholden to the greater rules of the server.

This is sort of how Mastadon works, an alternative to Twitter that allows users to be apart of servers with their own privacy rules and guidelines while still being connected to the larger Mastadon feed.

Imagining Community

I think generally speaking, when we want to create new communities whether in real life or online, it requires a heterodoxic approach in both the mind, systems, and social relations. Being aware of the fact you are a mutually dependent human being is a good place to start. But the next part requires our systems and social relations reflect that.

Next I think is to recognize that human beings have no natural objective human nature quality outside of mutuality. We're not good, we're not bad. We want personal autonomy and we want community. We should allow ourselves to associate with who we want, however we want and be held accountable by those around us.

We need to find new ways of reconciling with differences, and again I think this can take many forms from just choosing who you want to associate with, to mediation or reconciliation. A new concious culture that can do these things might be a good one.

We must break free from the entrapment that big tech, capitalists, and government has on us. We can decide for ourselves how we want to live as long as we recognize another human being behind a person's eyes or a screen. We don’t need to be friends with each other but we can recognize the fact we're all a work in progress till the end and can live life with the peace of mind that when things go wrong we have the power and control to make a difference. Not a technocrat, a politician, a bussinessman, nor a bureaucrat.

Wrapping Up and Closing Thoughts

This is quite a crudely written post, honestly I feel it's not a complete thought and actually turned into something else completely. Initially it was supposed to be my personal critisisms of self-care and why it bothered me. But I also saw the flaws in what community is in the 21st century. So, I felt a need to cover that as well. I think for me, I noticed I ended up rambling off onto a completely other tangent unrelated to the topic at hand but was loosely related. I haven't really explored too much in terms of the future of community nor mental health either. So really, this is just a crudely made post on some things bugging the hell out of me that I needed to get out of my head. I will probably improve upon this as time goes on.

The Bottom Line

Essentially, self care as a movement or a cultural phenomenon is what my issue is. It's not the practice itself. There is nothing unique about taking care of oneself. What is unique is how much this has skyrocketed in popularity and has overtaken much needed critisims of systems that need to be critiqued that cause people to feel the way they do. And the need for more collective care to heal individual wounds.

Other Movements and People For Mental Health

There's also a lot of work in alternatives for mental health care and other forms of analysis of mental health such as:

Decolonization (returning indigenous forms of healing)

Post-psychiatry

Mad Pride

Mad in America: Rethinking Mental Health (A podcast you can find on Spotify)

Freudo-Marxism

pat.radical.therapist (on Instagram)

connectwithoumou (on instagram)

There are plenty of other things to look into but they all cover similar topics.

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cryopathiic-a · 1 year

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"be honest with me." :)

A simple-minded inconvenience, this one. Through deep shadows reigning the the audience chamber, his polychromatic gaze glowed vividly, bursting with life. Long legs folded in an offensive imitation of spiritual imagery, feigned curiosity having them hunch as they leaned closer.

❝ You want to hear the truth? ❞ The request echoed with saccharine sweetness, an inconspicuous smile that would never betray what had sparked such a forward demand. Dōma was well aware as to why the young boy had barged uninvited in the Audience Chamber, neglecting to request a private council as all cultists knew to do.

He could remember the frozen expression on that boy's face when he had witnessed a sole sunbeam lick the oni's opaline complexion earlier on; he had watched the demon twitch away from its touch before retreating to the temple's bowels upon which he was known to rest during the daylight hours. No one else had thought to question him; he was allergic to the sun after years of self-imposed withdrawal as a means of sensory deprivation that leads one closer to enlightenment. And, on any other day, perhaps Inosuke wouldn't have questioned it either.

But the curious little brat had followed him deeper into the corridors; lurking, watching in secret as the Lord Founder's skin begun to weave the wound shut.

❝ I am so happy to see you have finally decided to embrace my teachings, Inosuke-kun. ❞ The spiritual leader purred, nodding contently; ignoring how heavy the atmosphere was getting, laden with that secret. A slender finger rested against his own temple, prismatic eyes widening somberly; it was an oddly penetrating gaze now that his perpetual smirk had given way to a focused expression.

❝ Open your mind now, and listen; of the hindrances that bind us to this world, there are three most important. ❞ Fingers splayed before the other, a long iridescent claw adorning each one. Colorful beads dangling from his neck were nestled in the crook between his thumb & pointer finger, chiming minutely with each motion. Dōma stared like a hungry owl; but his words were delivered softly, with tranquility found only in a state of deep meditation.

❝ To harbor an ill will towards others and nurture feelings of resentment in one's heart; only by lifting the burden of hate may one be relieved from its poisoning, or it will fester and wilt the body and the soul alike. ❞ His index finger folded first, nails tapping onto each other with the motion.

❝ To worry and be restless; which forbids the mind from accessing a state of concentration and hinders one's practice of mindfulness. ❞ His middle followed. In those moments, the most animated thing about the Prophet were those fingers.

❝ And, to doubt in the abilities of oneself and those of others. ❞ His thumb ultimately met with his ring finger, until the palm was returned to his lap, whereupon it rested casually on his ankle. Instantaneously, his motions regained their fluidity.

❝ I have noticed how often you open your eyes in the middle of mindfulness practice. Have you ever thought that this constant need to check on your surroundings is, in fact, hindering you from understanding them better? ❞

#((inosuke: i think ur not human douma: *entire religious text to convince him to stop worrying* ))#♛ ¦ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇꜱ༺ answered

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almaqead · 9 months

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"The Keeper." From Surah 4: An Nisa, "The Women."

4:83-86

And when there comes to them information about [public] security or fear, they spread it around. But if they had referred it back to the Messenger or to those of authority among them, then the ones who [can] draw correct conclusions from it would have known about it. And if not for the favor of Allah upon you and His mercy, you would have followed Satan, except for a few.

So fight, [O Muhammad], in the cause of Allah ; you are not held responsible except for yourself. And encourage the believers [to join you] that perhaps Allah will restrain the [military] might of those who disbelieve. And Allah is greater in might and stronger in [exemplary] punishment.

Whoever intercedes for a good cause will have a reward therefrom; and whoever intercedes for an evil cause will have a burden therefrom. And ever is Allah, over all things, a Keeper.

And when you are greeted with a greeting, greet [in return] with one better than it or [at least] return it [in a like manner]. Indeed, Allah is ever, over all things, an Accountant.

Commentary:

Whoever intercedes for a good cause will have a reward therefrom; and whoever intercedes for an evil cause will have a burden therefrom. And ever is Allah, over all things, a Keeper.

And when you are greeted with a greeting, greet [in return] with one better than it or [at least] return it [in a like manner]. Indeed, Allah is ever, over all things, an Accountant.

Commentary:

The entire point of the Reception of the Quran by Prophet Muhammad was to create an unbroken network of experts who could speak about the historical trials of humanity with expertise and guide those in the present.

The verses above speak of the interplay of bad news from abroad and the appropriate response dictated by God which is found in the Quran.

If we analyze why this is in the section named An Nisa it is because women, who give birth, of course, are the literal and figurative means such message interplay is supposed to yield a return on investment for humanity.

If every Muslim mother told every Muslim son, "do not fight, do not lie, intercede for the traveler and the refugee, do not lie, do not spread corruption, the world would not experience any distress at all, ever.

The Network spoken of above is dual, it receives bad news and transmits blessings with equal capacity.

Anytime a series of verses provides Allah with a nickname it is called a Khatimah, "a closing seal" and these need to be analyzed via the Asmaul Husna and also Hebrew Gematria:

The Keeper: the Value in Gematria is 13717, יגזאז‎‎ , exasperate, sakht. Sakht explains the incremental addition of the Words of the Quran between the breath, one at a time. The Gematria suggest this is how good intercedes and evil recedes, one puff of air at a time.

This forum which lays out distinct portions of the Quran in order to help Muslims and non-Muslims alike use its wisdom to combat evil is an attempt at curbing the exasperation of the world using sakht.

The Accountant: the Value in Gematria 9690, טוטאֶפֶס‎ , catching, lil imsak in Arabic means to observe Sawm before one falls prey to excess. There is a lot of deprivation taking place in the world but no Sawm. To catch oneself in the act is also not Sawm.

Sawm and Zakah, from which the Sakht is derived are the principal ways the knowledge in the Quran is turned into a strategy all around us. All bad news can be greeted with compassion, all good news can affirm the rations in life we have got. These two things will always prevent the need for military might and its aftermath.

And Allah told me just this morning. Muslims don't want Santa Claus or Jesus for Christmas...they want Elvis.

youtube

#Youtube

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cosmicangel888 · 2 years

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Those in Deep Insecurity - Misuse, Abuse of Energy, Information, Resources 3 D- 5D

The beauty of the expansion of creation is that there is ever heightened and ever expanded wisdoms, intelligence, blessed honour of light, energy, potential and how to tap into the new levels, new realms, new sacred play, is to be fully in sacred play now and honour it now

Now is the time to release karma behaviour and superficial ways; the ways of ego that thinks it is a driver in the souls journey - and how to soften, surrender, and succumb into higher programs is through the only inner journey - all will have to walk on their journey -

Your next move, your life, is only from within - seek such from spirit, God, Source, - all must learn how to walk, navigate in life, in the dimensional of all that is God, Source, and when you are tapped in, there is life beyond life, magic beyond magic and all deserve their own right to explore, play, and discover - none can tell you what your path is, what is your next move, your destiny, none can tell you - it is all within and between you and God, your highest self and you will see, you will know, you will discern with great certainty what, who, how is truth, integrity, and nourishment of such or not.

You will see very blatantly those that misuse your kindness, and your own self assurance, to play off your energy, your successes for their insecurity or not doing the inner work, will see what an easy way to climb aboard anothers path - and seek anything and everything to be a part of another's story without even going within to suss out what is of within for oneself - why the outer illusion will only keep you lost and seeking and judging, or competing -

Everyone has their right to voice, choice, and vibrational alignment due to their own inner work - none deserve to be bullied out of who they are, or to be blocked and thwarted by those in lack of self - go within and heal - all have access and all must learn to walk on their own without the crutches, those that they have taken and used, or taken advantage of - all is spiritual lessons - go within and seek the leader within - the creator, the writer, the healer, the teacher - this is love - the only focus worth your undivided attention is LOVE!

If your focus is not LOVE then you will experience such lessons to show you and guide you back - why we move through the challenges we do and call such in - your own worthiness, your own value - however in such lessons, we state such knowing; Crime, harm to anyone is not necessary not needed, and can be a part of our new earth life - no crime, no harm - all are abundant and all are liberated

There is no ownership over anyone, no deprivation of another to get or want something of yourself - it is all abundant - the spirit harmonizes the greater you to the aspects wounded and harmed - but it takes each one to will it and honour, and simply self love to be it

Creative Genius - is within the all - what are your beliefs - you need none outside of you to create genius -

When you are going through challenge, tower moments, pain, suffering it brings a catalyst to focus back to LOVE - LOVE IS the only healer, the only purveyor of your better life your better body, health, and wellness to genius - LOVE is the expander - and none can get it or do it for you - it is you and God - God is such grace

The journey is within - who you are, what your story is, how to offer your story, your challenges and how you transformed, and how you survived something that many would not or could not have - turned the negative to a positive and made whatever God placed in front of you to your own creative knowing - God is, whatever is before you, is of your making, and you can create something new - none have this right over you or of you - why would anyone want to take away your greatest creative moments and knowing who you truly are as a creator - all must transmute and know they can walk their path and change, alter, shift and making something of themselves is proof enough that in faith, trust, love and care within - all is possible -

youtube

No amount of thwarting, spell work, taking, resource or information misuse, or manipulation is more powerful or more aligned with spirit than that of your own story to transcend whatever difficulty before you - the will of God, there is a will, a pure hearted will, not ego will - there is a difference and each must discover it on their own - this is spiritual growth, and one cannot move to another realm of vibrational play unless one 'gets' the laws, rules of engagement, respecting of the rules and laws of this realm - the past 3D - 4D - Spirit and the gatekeepers, will always allow the deepest and more profound soul spiritual lessons to those that seek it, even if you do not want to learn, or. move through karma - how you behave, how you respond to all before you, is the learning to ascend to new realms - you want to move through what you created - so bold up and move through through through it -

youtube

If you created it - you have the wisdoms to create new and different that doesn't have be painful to yourself or others - all is in the infinite -

All is how one can choose to align in love or oneness or simply compete against it - all has its rewards and consequences

And so be the lessons of new realms - focus on your new dream, your new world, release all focus on any other - it is all within - 3D - move through and heal what is within - one will not be liberated unless the wounds are healed and all are treated with loving kindness and oneness - it is the way of evolution and the Universal laws -

Blessings and light

Joanna

#joanna

#ascension

#enlightenment

#healinghumanity

#healingdarknightofthesoul

#healingourchildren

#healing

#selfhealing

#humanity

#God

#unity

#oneness

#galacticschools

#galacticeduction

#thepathtoOneness

#spiritualhealing

#ascensionsongs

#Youtube

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kim-poce · 2 years

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Found 6 - Stress

Eri is freaking out with his pets and meanwhile Celine wants to strangle him for not answering her.

Masterlist

CW: pet whump, fear of punishment, offering oneself up to punishment (denied), caretaker new master.

=-=

Mistress Celine is angry, well, not in a good mood at least, but both meant pain anyway, both meant that soon Jonah would be a bloody sobbing mess, being ordered to shut up.

Jonah found it so so hard to crawl closer to the woman who had screamed at her laptop just before, she was trying to reach someone on the phone the whole day and it was only getting her more stressed for it.

“Hey sweet,” she took a deep breath and smiled when she saw Jonah approaching, he swallowed hard and made his way to kneel at her feet, “Is there a problem, baby? you seem down today.”

He should stay in the proper position to offer himself up but he just couldn’t. Instead he leaned his face on Mistress’ lap, just for a bit, just some comfort before the pain. “I-” he took a deep breath before stuttering out the trained words, “Y-you are are stressed, Mistress, please take you anger out on your stupid pet.”

It’s done, should’ve I have brought a whip? but I don’t know where they are. I should've brought something, the poker maybe? But it hurts so so much, but it is meant to hurt, I’m meant to be hurt and-

“Dear,” Celine crouched down, making the pet flinch, “I won’t hurt you, not now, not ever. Sorry if I scared you, baby, work got me a bit stressed today indeed, and I shouldn’t let this make you feel unsafe. Do you know how I can solve this?”

Jonah shocked his head. Should I know it? I should! I should know how to help.

“I can solve this by not yelling at Eri on the phone, instead, putting it down, closing my laptop, and going out for an ice cream. What do you think about it? Want to chill together with me?”

Jonah’s eyes widened in surprise, he wasn’t expecting this…solution (?). Where was the pain? Where was the anger and the non-stopping blows? Back with Former Master he would be beaten up so badly he wouldn’t be able to speak for a week, and with Former Mistress he would be put into sensory deprivation for hours. That’s normal, that was expected. Not this.

But I like this. Jonah didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to have ice cream too- He was caught off guard by his own thoughts. Why did he supposed he’ll have ice cream too? When did Mistress say she would give him an undeserved treat? It’s because she always does it, I’m getting spoiled, I should say i don’t want, I should be a proper pet, I should-

“P-please,” he started, speaking against his training, “I I want to, please? Can I?”

“Of course, love, it’ll be my pleasure,” Mistress said with a smile, patting Jonah’s head gently, “Let’s get ready to get out then.”

Jonah nodded. Just a few months ago he would think this is a trap, maybe it is, maybe all of this is a huge and cruel trap and one day the facade will suddenly crumble to dust. But not today, today they are just chilling together.

=-=

Taglist: @inkkswhumpandstuff, @wolfeyedwitch, @rose-pinkie, @latenightcupsofcoffee, @inkkswhumpandstuff, @inpainandsuffering, @nicolepascaline

#whump #pet whump #fear of punishment #caretaker new master #caretaker new whumper #my writing #Found

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warrioreowynofrohan · 3 years

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For the ask meme: 1, 4, 9

Yay, thank you for asking!

1) Favourite Section

The Quenta Silmarillion proper, as it’s by far the longest. And specifically the parts from the Flight of the Noldor through to Beren and Lúthien, when there’s high drama but before everything gets completely horrible.

4) Favourite Valar/Valier

Favourite Valier, and favourite Vala overall: Nienna. She figures greatly in my headcanons regarding dead elves, and especially Maedhros, who is in very bad shape indeed by the time of his death. We see relatively little of her in the Silmarillion, but what we can extrapolate from Gandalf, who is said to have had spent much time with her as Olorín and ‘from her learned pity and patience.’ Paradoxically, given her nature as the Lady of Sorrows, I conclude ftom Gandalf that one thing learned from spending much time with Nienna is a sense of humour, and particularly the ability to laugh at oneself and not take oneself too seriously. For sorrow for others guves us the ability to see ourselves within a wider context than our own lives, as ‘only a little fellow in the wide world after all!’, and so is a powerful defence against either despair or vainglory. And it is this same perspective that enables and encourages Gandalf’s concern for the little people (literally and figuratively) of Middle-earth.

Favourite of the male Valar: Mandos. I’ve liked him very much ever since I read LaCE, both because of the way elven death and rebirth is described, and some of his statements in the Story of Finwë and Míriel. His description of the nature of justice within Arda Marred, and the distinction between justuce and self-sacrifice, I found and find extremely interesting; justice not as the rigid absolute, but as something that makes allowance for our frailties and limitations, and takes into account the complexities of the world. It’s not the way I’d thought about justice before, and I like it a lot:

“It is our task to deal with Arda Marred, and to declare what is just within it. We may indeed in counsel point to the higher road, but we cannot compel any creature to walk upon it. That leadeth to tyranny, which disfigureth good and maketh it seem hateful.

“Healing by final Hope, as Manwë hath spoken of it, is a law which one can give to oneself only; of others justice alone can be demanded. A ruler who discerning justice refuseth to it the sanction of law, demanding abnegation of rights and self-sacrifice, will not drive his subjects to those virtues, virtuous only if free, but by unnaturally making justice unlawful, will drive them rather to rebellion against all law. Not by such means will Arda be healed.

This principle can be seen in other actions of the Valar: they may ask Fëanor to give up the Silmarils to restore the Trees for the benefit of everyone in Valinor, but they cannot demand them of him, because that would be demanding self-sacrifice rather than asking it.

And Mandos is the Doomsman: he can foresee the consequences of the choices people make, and the consequences that may come from not taking the ‘higher road.’ This is why he is happy when people do take it, as when Finwë chooses to remain dead so that Míriel may return to life:

“It is better still that thou hast made this offer, to deprive thyself, of thy free will, and out of pity for another. This is a counsel of healing, out of which good may grow.”

I think this is also a part (along with foresight) of why he has pity on Lúthien, because she has chosen self-sacrifice and, being immortal, died for the chance of being once more with the one she loved, and in hope of recalling him from death.

I also want to clarify that the Doom of the Noldor is a decree of the Valar as a whole, and not a ruling of Mandos alone. LaCE states that the Dooms of Mandos are of three kinds: the decisions of Manwë or of the Valar as a whole in council; the decisions of the Dead on specific matters, such as never to return to life (which have a delay during which they are revocable); and the decisions of Mandos regarding when and whether a dead elf may return to life, which are made slowly and, even for those who have committed severe crimes, not unless they demonstate over a long period of time that they are unwilling to repent or accept healing. (I continue to be confused by fannish contentions that this is somehow mean. An elf being dead - particularly as a consequence of their own bad decisions - is not the same as Melkor being imprisoned. Elven rebirth is a grace that the Valar sought for elves; it is not an inherent right. To me, it is very generous that any elf, no matter what they have done, has the opportunity to return so long as they are willing to be healed. There is no moral obligation upon the Valar to let unrepentant murderers wander around Valinor.)

But, returning to the Doom of the Noldor: it seems clear to me that it is of the first type, a decision of the Valar as a whole. Such dooms regarding the living are not said to be something that Mandos has the authority to declare unilaterally.

9) What Age of Arda would you like to live in?

The First Age of the Sun, I think, in Beleriand during the Long Peace. It’s comparatively safe albeit not completely so, and I think this era is really the Golden Age that everyone in LOTR is recalling (the world was fair, the mountains tall, in Elder Days…; and Treebeard’s song of the seasons). The benefit, as well as detriment, of being a human is that you experience a relatively brief moment in the history of the world - every Elf in Beleriand had experienced both great wonder and beauty and great tragedy and loss, while for Men, it’s more luck of the draw - you might live your whole life during the Long Peace and have a very pleasant time of it all through, or you might be born after the Nirnaeth and have an unremittingly horrible time. It’s why humans need estel more than elves - we’re far more likely to be in a position where, even if there will be better days sometime, we won’t live to see them.

Anyway, the Long Peace in Beleriand is a good time to be there - there are Elves of all sorts, and the Three Houses of Men, and Dwarves, and all sorts of interesting people and places. And yes, I am definitely biased by the possibility of being able to meet Finrod! He’s not one of my fictional crushes, but he would be absolutely fascinating as a person to meet and talk with!

#tolkien #the silmarillion #finrod #nienna #mandos

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viridiave · 3 years

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ELDERS AND THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

You guys seemed to really like that first braindump I dropped so uh- hey here’s another one hope you guys enjoy it-

> Really it’s easy to see why this one is Pride- and arguably a combination of all sins if you choose to see it that way, seeing as Pride itself is the Original Sin. You could see this on the Eden mural as well, to some degree. Eating a ‘fruit of knowledge’ for all the Kingdom to see. Pride is described as a feeling of deep satisfaction for one’s achievements and capability- and as a sin, the pinnacle of self-importance and self-preservation, valuing oneself above all else. While all of these traits are easily visible in the vague ‘king’ or ‘prince’ figure in the world of Sky, it would be easy to see where the root of this evil came from and that is evident in the state of Eden as well as their unsalvageable existence. ‘The Eden Elder is not around to be saved’.

> There is no clear interpretation for what exactly it was that the Eden Elder must have committed, but the consequences are apparent in the ruined, dilapidated state of the Kingdom some several years later. This Elder’s particular sin may be attributed to the power they’ve garnered as the Monarch of the Sky Kingdom, and a possible attempt at playing God (i.e. the Eden diamond).

> Eden is referred to as the ‘Original Sin’ in some concepts as well.

> The Prairie Elder is a bit of an easy guess as well- seeing as our first encounter with them involved waking them up from what we can only assume is an absurdly long nap akin to that of hibernation. The Prairie Elder is depicted as tired again when we meet them in Orbit.

> Other possible interpretations regarding their sin of Sloth would be a negligence to fulfill their duties as the protector of light creatures, an inaction to prevent most of them from being shipped off and manufactured into power diamonds- or an inaction to take measures preventing the war that ravaged Wasteland.

> The Forest Elder’s sin isn’t quite the obvious guess and it is possible to be interpreted interchangeably between Lust and Wrath depending on the context- but typically their association with Greed can be seen in how the realm that she has sovereign over is constructed- being heavily associated with the Industrial Age and a technological boom. It’s commonly believed that the Forest Elder is the inventor of the Power Diamonds and because of this association it can be assumed that this where the Kingdom’s drive for large-scale manufacturing and pursuit of ease originated.

> This sin can be subtly seen in their Elder cutscene- impatiently taking the flame off a child’s hands in order to fix their power diamond. In other words, taking the resources of others to use for their own gain.

> The Twins’ sin of Lust is not at all synonymous with the sexual aspect of it- but can also be interpreted as them simply indulging in all the various pleasures that life has to offer. In other words, they are hedonists- coveting the pursuit of pleasure and placing value in it compared to everything else. Taking into consideration their playful and otherwise relaxed nature compared to the other Elders and the fact that their realm is representative of society at its peak- where they have time to indulge in arts and sport- it can be easy to draw the connections to the sin of Lust.

> Lust may also be defined as coveting one’s own pleasures above the greater scheme of things- such as a duty to God. Lust is- by some definitions- love in excess, placing the worship of greater responsibilities second to their own desires. This manifests in the carefree way that the Twins act, and the thrill-seeking nature of their realm.

> The Twins are also privy to a variant of Gluttony due to the social discrepancies found in their realm, or even of Sloth and neglecting their duties as Elders in favor of leisure.

> The Wasteland Elder’s sin of Wrath is fairly easy to recognize and ascertain given that Golden Wasteland is a land rendered useless through possibly years of struggle and war. While Forest is the first place where we truly see the impacts of discord and a general disregard for consequence, Wasteland is the realm where we see that discord be elevated to such a degree that the land is reduced to a lifeless (save for an astounding amount of dark creatures), inhospitable place.

> Golden Wasteland itself can possibly represent two forms of Wrath- the more obvious side of it being Battlefield, but Wasteland itself was also a thriving diamond production site. It’s entirely possible for them to have razed an entire forest to the ground in order to make way for the aforementioned factories- experiencing a form of Wrath that is reserved for the ecosystem that might have existed there before. The factories themselves could also be taken as a source of Wrath- provoking feuds and discord among those who might have disagreed with the production of diamonds.

> Through the second interpretation of Tsadi’s Wrath, it is also possible that he may represent Greed to some degree because of their large-scale manufacturing.

> The Vault Elder’s sin of Gluttony is not an immediately discernible sin- and it is quite unclear what their insatiable hunger could have been other than their thirst for knowledge. Gluttony, in this case- may not have been referring to food at all, and may be substituted for knowledge. The Vault of Knowledge is one that stores presumably every single piece of knowledge about the Kingdom of Sky- and it is possible to interpret the Vault Elder’s collection as her accumulating a hoard of sorts.

> Other possible interpretations of this Gluttony may incorporate the reason for the condemnation of the sin- and it is that by gorging, the prosperous may leave the needy hungry- leaving it possible that the Vault Elder may have consumed so much knowledge- seeking for so much knowledge that they have inevitably left the Kingdom in a state wherein their lack of knowledge may have led to their eventual deaths. Alternatively, because they hoard the forbidden knowledge to themselves, they have left the Kingdom without a solution to an ever-growing problem that culminated in the Kingdom’s downfall.

> The Vault Elder may also represent Lust (as in, a lust for knowledge) and Greed (through the same motions used to justify their Gluttony).

> The Isle Elder is left with the sin of Envy through a process of elimination, though it is likely that while they might have represented such once, it is also likely that the Isle Elder instead has become someone who rose above their sin- entirely dependent on how events may have played out for the Kingdom and what exactly his role was in its rise and fall.

> Envy may be described as the ‘desire to wish misfortune on others/ deprive others of their fortunes’- in one case, maybe the fortunes of one Eden Elder. Isle of Dawn is the birthplace of the Prophecy- and, consequently, the person who will reign superior over the Kingdom of Sky through conquering the Trials of the Elements. Assuming that the conqueror of those Trials was the Eden Elder themselves (as either the Prince or the King- or both of them, it depends), it is possible that the Isle Elder may have defected from that rule- from a premonition or otherwise simple malicious envy, it is uncertain. Envy tears a man away from his neighbor- and it is possible that this is the reason why the Isle Elder is not depicted on the gate to Eden.

LUST=CHASTITY* GLUTTONY=TEMPERANCE* GREED=CHARITY* SLOTH=DILIGENCE* WRATH=PATIENCE* ENVY=KINDNESS* PRIDE=HUMILITY

It’s pretty awkward trying to attach any one virtue to any one Elder not gonna lie- not because I don’t believe they can fit but really more so because the virtues themselves do not correspond to each brand of sin that the Elders represent. For example- no amount of Patience could have saved Tsadi from the destruction he’d wrought upon his realm, whether this is due to outside circumstances or his own personal grievances, nor would Charity necessarily be something that the Teth would covet as her Greed is more representative of the exponential growth in technological prowess that her realm (and by extension, the Kingdom) had gone through, as well as the consequences of such growth. Lamed is a strange case in that she seems to represent Gluttony and Temperance simultaneously- and the same could be said for Ayin and his Diligence.

#sky lore #sky children of the light #sky cotl #that sky game #isle elder #eden elder #prairie elder #forest elder #valley elders #wasteland elder #vault elder #sky children of the light elders #seven deadly sins #seven heavenly virtues #i dunno i just really like assigning sins #if there's seven of them we're doing the sins

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suck-on-a-fire-ball · 3 years

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~ Masterlist of Fics ~

💕 Ao3 page

This will be updated frequently with whatever new stuff I publish

If you wish to be tagged for certain updates, let me know in an ask or comment 💕

please make sure to read the TWs before reading anything. be safe people

💕 Blackwall Stories 💕

~ We Fight Together ~ 10 Chapter fic pairing: Blackwall x Eydis (f!OC) tw: check each individual chapter, but nothing major. 18+ for not super detailed smut, and implied smut summary: A hardened Avvar warrior meets a hardened Grey Warden… and both fall for each other. Surprisingly, it is a shared knowledge of what it’s like to have a dark past that intertwines them as each other’s soulmates.

💕 💕 💕

💕 Anders Oneshots 💕

~ Dirty Blonde Hair ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x m!HawkeTW: none

~ Remember? ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x HawkeTW: angst, death, grief

~ Sexual Tension? ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x m!Hawke TW: none

~ Anders' New Favourite Holiday ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x Marian Hawke TW: none summary: Hawke’s friends dress up for Halloween and Anders and Marian get matching costumes… Or rather, they were supposed to wear matching costumes. This just happened to be the one time Anders annoyed Marian and she decided to get back at him in a… surprisingly sexy way.

~ He's Just Guarding Us ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x Marian Hawke TW: none summary: There were quite literally no flaws that Anders could see in Marian Hawke. He adored everything about her... Well, apart from her love of dogs. One night, Anders finds it difficult to come to terms with the idea of now owning a dog... and the major downside of the creature wanting to share the comfortable bed.

~ The Only Gifts He'd Ever Need ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x Marian Hawke TW: none summary: Somewhere in the future, in a cabin away from society, Anders wakes up one winter morning unable to fall back asleep again. He finds that something had woken him up, though, and he won't be able to fall back asleep again until he figures out what and why. [Anders!dad]

~ Breaking Rules ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x Marian Hawke TW: none summary: Sometimes, the spirit in Anders can't tell danger apart from very strong romantic feelings.

~ Pretend Illnesses ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x Marian Hawke TW: none - apart from teeny tiny mentions of blood and wounds summary: One way that Marian Hawke gets to flirt and see Anders is to pretend to be injured. She does it almost every day in hope Anders might start to want her, and want to give in to a relationship. This time... she almost succeeds.

~ Depriving Oneself of Comfort ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x Marian Hawke TW: mentions of depression summary: Marian Hawke knows that Anders' way to cope with his mental health issues is to isolate himself and focus heavily on his work. But she misses Anders and goes to search for him. She always goes to search for him. In the end, neither of them want to be alone anyway. A short fic about them supporting each other through their pain - inspired by notes on Anders' mental health in DA2 in-game notes.

~ Personal Space ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x Marian Hawke hinted for sure, but not the focus TW: none summary: Anders sneaked inside Skyhold when Marian Hawke arrived. He had managed to stay hidden, pretending to be a soldier, but Cole's fascination with Justice finally ruins his disguise. Personal space is just not happening when possessed by a spirit and simultaneously haunted by another... Just a bit of an imagine concerning what would happen should Cole meet Anders / Justice. I might add some more chapters if I find some inspiration, or if you want to read about something specific! Just let me know and I'll be happy to oblige :3

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'First Kiss' ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x f!Hawke x Justice TW: none summary: Everyone knows the famous first kiss between Hawke and Anders… but what about Hawke and Justice?

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Nurse You Back to Health' ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x f!Hawke x Justice TW: grief, spoilers for ending of Act 2, you know... leandra... summary: When Marian Hawke feels sad, Anders and Justice do anything in their power to always make her feel better.

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Mirror' ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x f!Hawke x Justice TW: none summary: In a relationship of three, where the third participant cannot be there at the same time as the other two, how do Anders and Marian make things work? Well… through mirrors and magic.

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'together' ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x f!Hawke x Justice TW: death bed, grief, angst summary: Because of Justice, Anders doesn’t age. When the time comes for Marian to leave this Earth, neither of them leave her to face it alone.

~ The Most Genuine Thing She Had Ever Said ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x f!Hawke x Justice TW: none summary: "He stopped her with a kiss, swallowing whatever other self-deprecating words she would have said to keep her safe, to protect, to love… " Justice and Anders share a loving moment with Marian Hawke after their relationship has reached new levels of intimacy and love

~ Because We're Family ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x f!Hawke + Anders & Mabari domestic fluff TW: a dog gets hurt in this, some (minor?)graphic depictions of that, blood and wounds. There’s also fighting and some bones breaking summary: When Hawke's Mabari, Evan, jumps in front of Anders to save his life, the hound gets hurt in the process and Anders realizes just how precious this dog is to him... Maybe Anders no longer is just a cat person.

~ Adoption ~ multichapter fluff pairing: Anders x f!Hawke x Anders TW: some minor marriage trauma but not too much summary: One bright and early morning, Marian Hawke is not the only one waiting eagerly for Anders to wake up... and before they know it, their little family gets to grow.

~ Please Love Me ~ oneshot pairing: Anders x f!Hawke x Anders TW: trauma, death, grief summary: Leandra Hawke followed Malcolm’s footsteps in hardening and toughening up their eldest to take over the family should anything happen. It led to a lack of affections, despite neither of them intending to treat their children differently, despite neither of them loving either of them more. With Anders and Justice in her life, though, Marian would never have to walk around thinking she was unloved ever again and they would fight to the end of their lives to prove their love to her... unlike Leandra had.

💕💕💕

💕 Alistair Oneshots 💕

~ Massage ~ oneshot pairing: Alistair x Warden Cousland TW: none

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'First Kiss' ~ oneshot pairing: Alistair x f!Warden TW: none summary: Alistair and the warden did not have their first kiss in camp for all to see. Their first kiss was… a little messier… but what do you expect when romancing Alistair Theirin?

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Nurse You Back to Health' ~ oneshot pairing: Alistair x f!Warden TW: none summary: When the warden gets sick, Alistair wishes he could fight it off like any other blighted creature that dared harm her… but he can’t. He can only wait…

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Rose' ~ oneshot pairing: Alistair x f!Warden TW: none summary: The rose that Alistair gifts the Warden stays with her throughout thick and thin, up until their very last moment alive…

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Together' ~ oneshot pairing: Alistair x f!Warden TW: none summary: After forcing Alistair into a life he never asked for, the Warden hopes that them being together at least gives him some peace…

~ You Will Sing Once More ~ oneshot pairing: Alistair x f!Amell; Amell & Cullen Rutherford TW: slight angst, not too bad summary: After Ferelden’s Circle has been retaken from Uldred’s blood mages, warden Constance Amell attempts to calm the mage children down with a song. This time, though it’s not working and when she asks for Cullen’s help the way he used to… but Constance is faced with a man whose views on mages has changed. Yet she hopes that it won’t be forever...

~ Hills ~ oneshot pairing: Alistair x f!Amell TW: none summary: When Alistair notices Constance is feeling a little down, Alistair decides that rolling down a hill is the ultimate way to make her feel better

💕💕💕

💕 Cullen Oneshots 💕

~ Morning ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ By the Fireplace ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ You Don't Have to Change For Me ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ Red ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ Cedar Wood ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ I Take You ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: slight angst with lyrium withdrawal

~ Long Day ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ And Who Are You...? ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ Arms Around Her ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ Little Notes ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ Paganism ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ Blueberries ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ Perhaps For the Last Time ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Trevelyan TW: none

~ Letters ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ One Day ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x Lavellan TW: none

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'First Kiss' ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x f!Inquisitor TW: none summary: To both Cullen and the Inquisitor, their first kiss on the battlements had been perfect. But to Cullen, the intimacy of kissing her without interruption, without the hastiness of needing to finish their conversation before the next meeting, was what the inquisitor deserved from a first kiss.

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Nurse You Back to Health' ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x f!Inquisitor TW: none summary: The Inquisitor is not one to rest or take breaks, too caught up in work and helping people to think about herself. So when all of that finally catches up with her and she collapses, Cullen is there to pick her back up again and nurse her back to health.

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Trust' ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x f!Inquisitor TW: none - spoilers for ending of Trespasser summary: Both trust each other enough to know their relationship would never turn sour... no matter how much they relied on each other...

~ 28 Day Challenge - prompt 'Together' ~ oneshot pairing: Cullen x f!Inquisitor TW: none summary: We fight together. Always.

💕💕💕

#masterlist

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buttercupsfrocks · 3 years

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Do you ever wonder what goes on in the mind of the average fatphobe, Tumblr? I do. I spend a lot of time going head to head with the blighters on Quora. Not in any hope of changing their mindset, obviously, because nothing short of a well aimed ice-pick is likely to do that. But perhaps I can change the mindset of a person like my younger self, who internalised their judgement as truth to her detriment, by showing them up for the irrational bullies they are. What can I say? It’s a hobby.

Seriously though, WTF is it these days with the endless accusations of “glamorising”, “promoting”,“normalising” – and even, on one occasion, “legitimizing” – obesity? Absolutely anything can trigger this response, from news that a high street clothing chain is slightly expanding its size range; to the use of plus-sized models to sell plus-sized clothes to plus-sized women; to featuring a fat runner making like a fat runner on the cover of Runner’s World. (Bad role model, incidentally, because fat). It’s all the Thin End of the Wedge for these pearl-clutching dipshits. And make no mistake, they’re running scared. But from what exactly?

I used to think it was fear of having their favourite chew-toy prised out of their smack-talking jaws. For the last few decades hating on fat folk for our own good has been endemic in the west, but bit by bit, kickback is starting to inch into the mainstream. And if the majority ever starts to view us as human individuals rather than a faceless scourge, sizeism could become less acceptable, less defensible even, then before you know it, BOOM! it’s pick on someone your own size, sunshine. But while that may be a significant contributor to their unease, there are additional factors at play in these accusations of glorification and endorsement. For a kick off they’re a crock. We all know that droves of slim-to-average sized people aren’t declaring their intention to become as fat as possible, nor are fat people encouraging them to do so.

The fact is that weight neutrality and self-acceptance among fat individuals genuinely rattles our most vocal detractors, which is why they persistently misrepresent the Fat Acceptance movement and discredit Health At Every Size, despite it being a bona fide medically supported programme. It’s why, when faced with a fat person not actively engaged in trying to shrink their body their stock reaction is to yell, “glorifying obesity!” Their anxiety centres around what might happen if the belief that it’s not fat people’s bodies that need fixing but our toxic cultural climate, becomes more commonplace. Greater numbers of fat people speaking up – and, crucially, being listened to; the media our hater-base consumes perhaps taking a more liberal, weight-neutral stance in keeping with the changing times. More routine inclusion of people with fat bodies in fashion magazines; weight-blind casting for the big and small screens; fewer ‘Best And Worst Beach Body’ covers on the supermarket checkout rags. Possibly, (please God and over time), a cultural shift in the way the pursuit of optimum health is presented – no longer a moral obligation or even a universal possibility; simply a choice if that’s what floats your boat, no more or less moral than joining the local am-dram outfit, or collecting vintage snowglobes. But what would that mean for them?

It’s not just that the currency of hard won – or happenstantial – thinness is devalued if one type of body is no longer privileged over another. I’ve been around enough people with eating disorders and compulsive behaviours to recognise that the portion of society that fulminates at total strangers for opting out of a lifestyle they feel compelled to adhere to, is rife with both. Certainly many describe lives of extreme deprivation and Herculean self control. However liberating oneself from diet culture also takes tremendous strength of will and I suspect for all their censorious gum-flapping deep down they know that, and fear they mightn’t have the courage to free themselves from what seems to me an utterly joyless existence.

Just some thoughts currently swirling around in my head.

By the way, isn’t this a delightfully loud frock? It’s bamboo and soooo soft, and doesn’t appear to pill or fade or shrink or any other nasties. It’s the heaviest of the Taking Shape dresses I bought this year, and good for chillier days like today, with the addition of tights. It’s also capacious enough to layer beneath, so versatile as well as colourful.

#OOTD #fatshion #plus size style #Taking Shape #bold and bright #Sizeism #Fatphobia #glorifying obesity #got my ranty-pants on

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ephyla · 4 years

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Midsummer Relaxation

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely sets anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast but all he desired was a break. Thank the Gods for marrying such a wonderful woman.

oOo

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over the village for days, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely set anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted, prone to often make mistakes that drove the Chief of New Berk wild. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast, but also had to settle petty quarrels between sleep-deprived Vikings; avoiding sharp flying objects on the occasion. It was the perfect recipe for chaos and he was worried that they will not be ready on time. If one thing went according to plan, three more things would set them back again. Food went missing, tables were broken, celebrative outfits were set on fire. All he wanted to do relax, he felt like he’s been awake for seven days straight and his mind isn’t cooperating anymore, just begging to shut down for a whole month. By now, he was just acting like a wandering draugr. He really wondered how his father managed to handle this without breaking a sweat and dearly wished he was by his side, guiding him.

His wife was by his side the entire time, shouldering half of the responsibilities. Even she, despite being quite tired as well (he swore he saw her take a power nap on top of a ladder last time), handled it better than himself. She seemed to be fuelled by a spark of positive energy. He remembered a few years back when the twins explained the change in their friends’ attitude towards the Midnight Sun, since then, Astrid found a dark place to sleep so she doesn’t get any more of those embarrassing memories again. What kind of Hofferson would ever call a Jorgenson handsome? Of course, the sun still had its effects on her, but her overzealous demeanour toned down to a bearable extent. While it did seem a bit overwhelming sometimes, it kept Hiccup’s spirits up. It was their first Midsummer as a wedded couple and he really didn’t want to mess this up.

Today, however, she had suddenly requested to immediately go home after being done with only half of her duties done. For someone who prides herself on being so effective and getting the work done, it was very unusual of her to abandon her responsibilities. This worried Hiccup, so he didn’t object and watched her dash towards their house. He didn’t know how much time passed, the sun remained in its usual elevated position, but he felt like tonight will be a four blocks of ice kind of night. He felt like there was absolutely no progress made today despite getting up in the early hours. He couldn’t even track the time since the sun was barely moving. Some muttonhead decided it was a smart idea to open Sven’s sheeps’ pen and let the uncoordinated Vikings chase them like toddlers who could barely walk yet. If he could get his hands on that person, he swore he was going to get an earful that even his late father, Stoick, would be impressed by. He hoped that Astrid got enough rest so she can go back to being her feisty, short-tempered self. He would greatly benefit from that. The Berkians, despite being completely out of control, would never cross with a hot-blooded, axe-wielding Valkyrie and would sober up at the speed of light.

Speaking of his beloved blonde wife, he saw her approach him with a smile on her face. Even though he was absolutely exhausted, he smiled back, her presence bringing him a sense of comfort. He extended his hand to her and she took it, bringing her closer to him, enlacing her waist, and pressing small kisses on her neck. She giggled in a very un-Astridlike way.

“Well, I’m not one to object to this kind of greeting, but we’re in the middle of town and people are looking.” Astrid said as she observed around her. Gobber was covering a kid’s eyes. Some villagers had a dumbfounded expression on their faces, rarely seeing Hiccup initiating such an intimate gesture; apart from the occasional lip or forehead kiss. Others just cheered or ignored them. Hiccup let out a small whine and rested his head on her shoulder, keeping his arms wrapped around her form.

“I missed you.” He whimpered.

“I wasn’t gone for that long, babe.” She replied as she stroked his hair. Her poor husband has the bad habit of overworking himself, and the fact that no one can distinguish between day and night definitely didn’t help. “Come home with me, I have something to show you.”

“I’m sorry Milady, I still have work to do, we’re behind schedule and Midsummer is in a week.” His reply a bit muffled in her shoulder.

“Go and have yer fun, lad. You’ve worked more than anyone here and deserve some respite. And besides, how can ye refuse yer wife’s invitation?” The young couple turned their heads to look at Gobber approaching them. “Ah, I remember when Stoick was acting just like ye, never knowing when to stop. It took Valka threatening not to share their marital bed anymore, snapped ‘im right out of it, and practically dragged ‘im home. The next morning they kept yawning all over the place, creating a chain of never-ending yawns. Now that I think about it, that’s probably how ye were concei-“

“-OKAY! That’s enough Gobber. I got your point.” Hiccup exclaimed in horror. While he was used to hanging around people that did not have a filter, Gobber was probably the one he feared the most. Since his best friend’s demise, the blacksmith has been recounting stories of him. Some were great to listen to, remembering the bravery and leadership of Stoick the Vast; but some were just better to keep to oneself. With the approach of the Midnight Sun’s peak, Gobber has gotten worse and Hiccup would’ve much preferred wearing the earbuds he made once during his encounter with the Death Song, just to save himself of the embarrassing images his mentor so crassly described to him.

Astrid looked at Gobber with a mixture of disgust and amusement, before deciding to grab her stunned husband’s arm and pulling him towards their house, away from the growing crowd of curious Vikings. She hoped her parents didn’t witness this whole ordeal.

“Astrid, I don’t think I have the energy to do what Gobber obnoxiously suggested, maybe-“ Hiccup said as he was being pulled by his wife.

“-Hush you. That’s not what I had in mind when I came to get you.” She cut him off, continuing to pull him towards their house. She let go of his arm once they crossed their threshold’s doorframe and closed the door, locked it just in case those nosy Vikings decided to rudely barge in.

After being exposed to the sunlight for so long, Hiccup’s eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room, illuminated by a couple of candles. He could smell a pleasant fragrant scent in the room and spotted their bathtub in front of the lit fireplace; the rugs been removed. Astrid led him to the bathtub and sat him down on the chair that was deliberately placed right next to it. She saw his questioning gaze.

“Gobber was right about you working harder than anyone here in this village. You deserve to relax a bit, take some time off.”

“You know I can’t afford to relax, now. Not when Midsommer is so close. Those sleep-deprived Vikings aren’t going to lead themselves, they can barely listen to me when I’m there. I’ll rest once we’re done.” He said, preparing to stand up again. Astrid pushed him down.

“I’ve asked your mom to take your place for a bit. She’s surprisingly unaffected by the sun’s constant presence. And she agreed that you needed a day off. Everyone could see how tired you are.” Astrid started unbuttoning his (GUARD STUFF). “And I want to take care of my husband. Will you let me?” Hiccup gulped, his words not coming out. He simply nodded. It’s been a while since she saw him being bashful around her. She gratefully smiled at him and pecked him on the lips.

She proceeded to fully undress him, and took off his prosthetic, placing it within reach of the chair. Gone were the days Hiccup felt ashamed of showing his scar. Astrid made sure to show him how much he meant to her, leg or no leg. When he was coming home after a rough day of chiefing, she would give him his ice blocks and tell him to take care of his migraines while she took care of his leg, massaging it. She would sometimes bring it to her lips and kiss it, showing her appreciation to him. He would always beam at her every time she did this. She frowned when she saw the current redness of his stump, also spotting a blister forming.

“Let me help you get in the tub. Just relax. I’ll massage your leg when I come back, I’m going to get some food from the Great Hall.” She said as she rose from her kneeling position. Her cooking did improve over time thanks to Hiccup and Gobber, but she wanted his day off to be perfect, which wasn’t the case for her cooking yet. She tried to make a nice intricate meal for the two of them, which is why she left so early. However, her attempts were all in vain as the food always ended up burning. In the end, she had to admit defeat.

Hiccup grabbed her wrist. “Join me?”

Astrid contemplated his words for a few seconds before nodding. She can grab dinner later. She wrapped her husband’s arm around her shoulder and helped him get into the tub. The water wasn’t too warm since they were in the hottest month of Berk, but it wasn’t cold to the point he would start shivering after being submerged for a couple of minutes.

Hiccup looked over at his wife undress. He had seen her in this state countless times, even before they were married; but it always felt like the first time. He was the only Viking that she allowed to see her like this, with her guard down. Her body wasn’t unscathed. It was filled with scars and burns, proving that this woman was a warrior that has been through so many battles and came out victorious every time. She wouldn’t hesitate to swing an axe to a skull if someone ever looked at her funny. So, this woman allowing him to witness her in her most vulnerable state was an absolute honour to him, that he would never take for granted. Her scars were a part of her and accentuated her beauty and he made sure to always remind her of it.

“Allow me.” He said as he extended a hand towards her. She knew what he wanted and turned her back to him. He rose, sat on the edge of the tub and pulled the leather band that kept her braid in place off. He slowly undid his wife’s braid, letting her gold strands cascade down to her lower back. He then gathered her hair in his hand and swept it over her shoulder, exposing her freckled neck and scarred back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a loving kiss on the largest scar she had. A scar trailed from her right shoulder to the left side of her hip. She was proud of that scar as it was a reminder of her saving his life from an assassination attempt. During the yearly Thing meeting between multiple tribes, when the dragons and some Viking tribes were still cohabiting together, a spy has been placed within them, trying to poison the Dragon-loving Chiefs. Astrid and Heather caught on pretty quickly and managed to expose the spy in front of all the Chiefs. Being surrounded, no one expected the spy to suddenly lunge himself at Hiccup with his sword. Astrid, being the closest to him and desperate to keep him unharmed, had used her back as a shield. The wound hurt like Hel but it was worth it. She was so scared to have failed him as his then-General, she didn’t care that she put her life on the line to save his. A Chief protects his own, but it’s also the General’s job to protect the people AND the Chief. Hiccup wouldn’t let her leave his sight for weeks after that, eternally grateful and forever scared he was going to lose her that day.

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He told her. His eyes were filled with wonder to this Valkyrie in front of him. She smiled gratefully at him and climbed in the bathtub, sitting opposite of him.

She took his stump in her hands and started to delicately massage it, coaxing a few moans of relief out of him. Her nimble fingers were definitely a gift from the Gods. She managed to soothe the knots in his leg with great accuracy. All day, he had to focus on the utter chaos happening in the village that he didn’t have the time to focus on himself and his discomfort, ignoring the pains coming from his leg begging him to take the weight off of it. She carefully avoided the small blister forming near the bottom of the stump.

“Mmmh, this feels so good.” Hiccup sighed with pleasure as he closed his eye, focussing on the sensation.

“You’ve been standing for too long, babe. I know the Midsummer celebration is stressing you out, but you’ve got to start listening to your body when it tells you to rest.” He opened his eyes, looking at her hands doing their wonders underwater.

“I know, I know. But it’s a bit hard to do that when we keep progressing backward each day. I swear to Odin, every time I look away, someone messes up something, I just can’t do it.” Astrid’s hand rose to swipe Hiccup’s bangs back, revealing his beautiful green eyes. Since the start of the preparations a few weeks ago, he didn’t have the time to let her cut his hair.

“You can’t do it on your own. Remember, you have me. You have your mom, Gobber, Eret and the gang. We’re all here to help you. You just have to accept the help instead of shouldering most of the responsibilities. We’re willing to take some of the load off you.” She said as she grazed her thumb over his dark eye bags. “I can assure you that not only the work will get done much faster, but you’ll be more productive with a rested body and a peaceful mind.” She kissed his forehead. Hiccup wrapped his arms around her, making her sit in his lap. He savoured the rare peaceful moment he had with his beloved wife. She had the gift of shutting all the voices tormenting his mind and the gentle touch to relax his body in the blink of an eye. She was everything to him. He could be the best version of himself when she’s with him and never took her for granted; not since the betrothal gift incident.

“Just don’t forget you’re still human, there’s so much your body can handle before it shuts down.” She added.

“Yeah, you’re right. I might have been pushing myself pretty hard.” Hiccup replied, raising his head to look at her. There was a warmness to her that he never thought she would ever have; especially directed towards him. He remembered her words of encouragement back on the clifftops, as he was losing hope. I am the person I am today because of you. Over the years, he saw how she started to warm up to him and the rest of the people. She had been trained for years to be this fearless, unemotional warrior. Back then, the fear of losing the people you love was at its peak, so she was quick to learn how to shut her feelings down and just train from dawn till dusk. Today, she was a softer and warmer person; which didn’t mean she was weaker by any means. But with the end of the Dragon War, she has found herself a partner that saw her as an equal. They both found themselves a new purpose in life and didn’t have to fear the threat of a dragon raid any longer, which allowed them to find happiness along the way. They were happy here.

Astrid got off his lap and reached for the soap that was earlier placed at a reachable distance. She looked back at him. “Soak.” And so, he plunged his head underwater before coming back up with his bangs fully covering his eyes. She stifled a laugh as did he. “I haven’t planned to cut your hair today, so I’ll do that next laugardagr, you think you can survive until then?” She started washing his hair with the soap in her hands.

“You made a whole schedule just to help me relax? A schedule? Did I mistakenly marry Fishlegs?” This earned him a pinch on his nipple. “OW! You know they’re sensitive. I did not deserve that!” She laughed as she brought her hands back to massage his scalp. The nipple pinching forgotten, his eyes rolled back into his skull, fully appreciating the head massage. “Ooh yeah, that feels nice.” Astrid brought his bangs back down to cover his eyes and gathered the excess foam and piled it upon his head in the form two horns. She exploded in laughter at the ridiculous sight. “Wha- Astriiid!“

“You look like Snotlout’s pet yak! Oh Gods- I can’t!” She wheezed.

Hiccup was not impressed and got rid of the foam and swiped his bangs back, exposing his frown. His small smile betrayed him though. It was rare to see Astrid lose composure and in a burst of full-blown laughter. It made him break his frown and laugh with her.

“You, young lady, are in reeeally big trouble. Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yakkity’s long lost brother?” She joked.

“Okay, that’s it, come here you!” He grabbed her by the waist and started poking her sides, knowing very well she was ticklish there. “I shall not tolerate this type of disrespect on my island.”

She tried to grab his arm, but this time he was prepared and pinned her arms by wrapping an arm around her and continuing tormenting her with the other. How she wished they were fifteen years old again. “N-No- St-Stop!”

“Then say, ‘My husband is the strongest and most handsome Viking in all of Midgard’. Say it.”

“Hahaha, N-not on yo-your life!” Having minimal movement of her arms, Astrid tried to reach downwards instead of fighting the death grip he had around her. She pinched the inside of his thigh, so very close to his precious jewels, making him jump. “Astrid! No!” He stopped tickling her but kept his arm around her.

“I will pinch higher if you don’t let me go, babe.” She tried to catch her breath from all the tickling.

“You’re awful, absolutely awful.” He whined as he let her go.

“You’re lucky this is your relaxation time.” She said, a small glint in her eyes.

“Oh yeah, what kind of torment would you inflict on your poor one-legged husband?” He challenged.

“Something that would require you to use your cane for the next day or so.” She fired back; a small, dangerous smile etched on her face. Hiccup’s eyes widened and he gulped. “But we’re both tired and I did promise to take care of my sweet husband, haven’t I? So, behave.” She flicked his exposed forehead.

“Ow. How did I get myself into this mess?” He rubbed the sore spot.

“You kidnapped me and threw me on top of a tree.” She replied with a straight face.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, you’ve had soap in your hair for long enough, rinse.” She ordered. He dived in again, washing off the soap.

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked.

“But it’s your time off.”

“Yeah, but it’s yours too. You worked just as hard. You deserve to be taken care of too.” He replied.

“You worked harder.” He rolled his eyes.

“Astrid, this isn’t a competition. I want to take care of my wife. Will you let me?” He grabbed her hand and slowly spun her around in the narrow tub and made her sit between his legs.

“You’re always looking for an excuse to touch my hair.” She jokingly said. There was an element of truth though. He loved touching her hair, combing his fingers through her long strands. Since they have gotten married, he insisted on combing and braiding her hair in the morning. There was just something intimate and therapeutic about touching her hair. She was protective over it, never letting anyone but him touch it. The first time she let down her hair for him was during the incident that left her temporarily blind. She was not able to see how much soot covered her precious hair, so she entrusted it in his care. He remembers his heart beating so fast that he thought it was going to burst from his chest. He felt honoured, and has been craving to touch her beautiful golden locks ever since.

Astrid on the other hand, hated when people touched her hair. It was her pride and joy (after Stormfly and her axe). As a child, every time her mom would braid her hair, she would always pull too hard, leaving her sore. The twins were more chaotic when they were kids. They would get away with anything because kids will be kids. As a prank, they decided it would be funny to set her hair on fire, forcing her to cut it above her shoulders. That day, she saw red and very nearly beat them to death. They were all severely punished for it, but no one has ever attempted to touch her hair ever again. He remembered that day very well, it was probably the first time he saw her cry. That’s when he learned how attached she was to her hair. The way she preened on it every night since they became a couple on the Edge reminded him so much of Stormfly. Her dragon always made sure there was not a single hair out of place after a flight. It amused him how she trusted a dragon more than Vikings to manage her hair. Stormfly had the gentle touch that Astrid craved someone to have. She always wanted her rider to look the best.

“Well?” Astrid asked as she looked back. Hiccup’s thoughts were cut off.

“Oh...Uh yeah, my bad.” He started to massage her scalp as she did him.

“Okay, I’m done. You can rinse.” He said after working on her hair for the past couple of minutes.

She dipped her head underwater and got rid of the soap before emerging again.

“Thanks.” She turned her head and smiled at him.

“I should be thanking you; this whole ‘bath’ idea was yours. It felt nice.” He kissed her exposed shoulder as he embraced her.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. We’re not done.” She patted his hand.

“Not done?”

“What, did you really think that was it? Come on, let’s get out before our skin shrivels up like a prune.” She got out of his arms, turned around, and grabbed him. She helped him up and guided him to the chair, passed him a towel, and proceeded to dry themselves before taking his prosthetic and putting it back on his stump. She started to put her clothes on, so Hiccup followed suit until she stopped him.

“Nuh-uh, just wear a towel, I highly doubt you want your clothes to be stained with oil.”

“What?”

“A massage, Hiccup. I’m going to give you a massage. Gods, even a blind man would know how tense you are just by standing near you.” She answered.

“Why are you getting dressed then? Don’t I get to give you one?”

“Next laugardagr, after I trim that overgrown mop of hair of yours. Gods have mercy on my shears.”

“S-Shears?! And by the way, my hair isn’t that bad!” Hiccup dramatically exclaimed. Astrid rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen a man with that much hair on their head, I swear if we shave everything off, we’ll have enough to make a scarf. No need for sheep anymore.”

“First, I’m a yak, now I’m a sheep? Is that how you see me, Astrid? Nothing more than livestock? How you wound me.” He brought a hand up to his heart. Astrid let out a cackle.

“You are such a drama queen. Come on, get up your highness, there’s fresh meat to be tenderized before I chop it off and feed it to the village.” She helped him up and headed towards their bedroom.

“Please Astrid, can you be any more creepy?” It was his turn to roll his eyes.

They finally reached their room. The shutters were sealed shut, preventing most of the light to penetrate the room. Candles were illuminated, giving off the same soothing atmosphere as downstairs, cutting them off from the agitated outside world. The bed was covered by a large towel, probably to avoid the oil soak into their sheets. Astrid made her husband lie down on his stomach, removed his prosthetic again, and sat on his butt. She started tracing his back muscles with feathery fingers which made him shivers. While Hiccup was still a lean man, he definitely wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old, shy boy that she found herself falling in love with. He quickly gained muscle mass thanks to dragon-riding and her extensive sword fighting lessons. Just like all the other riders, he started to lose some after the dragons’ departure a year ago. He remained, in her eyes, the most beautiful man ever.

She caressed his back and leaned forward, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, making him sigh lovingly. He was clearly enjoying her pampering and she wasn’t about to stop any time soon. She reached for the small vial that was ready to be used from their bedside table and poured the contents in her hands and rubbed them together to heat it up a bit. Astrid proceeded to rub his shoulders first, trying to undo that visible tension. She added her bodyweight as she tried to loosen those knots that caused his painful backaches.

“Mmh, yeah that’s the spot.” Hiccup moaned as she rubbed a specific sore area. She continued her ministrations for a bit and slowly moved onto his lower once she was satisfied with how loose and relaxed his shoulders became.

“How are you feeling?” She asked while kneading his legs.

“Like a newborn yak.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillows. She sniggered, happy that he’s enjoying this so much.

Hiccup can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. He truly thought he was going to melt into a puddle under her magic hands. He knew he didn’t know when to stop working. His muscles could be aching and his bones could be breaking, but he never stops until someone does or until he collapses. He had big shoes to fill and couldn’t bear to let his village down. Not when his father did a tremendous job at leading. Once Stoick finally admitted to his blindness, he saw so much growth and potential in his son, and Hiccup did his best to uphold what his father saw in him. While Stoick had to lead alone for years, Hiccup couldn’t be any more grateful to have an amazing partner by his side, supporting him. He knew he wouldn’t remain sane had he lost her like his father lost his wife. He was no idiot. He saw how he struggled when his soulmate was believed to be dead and couldn’t possibly see a future without Astrid. She was everything to him and more. The entire village knew that. They weren’t being led by the Chief and the Chief’s wife. They were Chief and Chieftess. Equals. One couldn’t function without the other. Some would say that they’re too dependent on each other and would lead the tribe to their downfall. But the Berkians knew better. Together, they were stronger than anyone.

“Turn around.” She ordered. And he complied. She sat back on his lap and leaned down to kiss him. He quickly wrapped his arm around her and savoured their kiss. They should do this more often. He missed having some quality time with just her.

Just as his hands started traveling a bit lower, a large grumbling sound resonated across the room. They separated and looked at each other. The couple started laughing.

“Well, someone is hungry. When was the last time you ate?” Astrid asked.

“Honestly, I can’t remember.” He sheepishly replied. She sighed. “Go sit in front of the hearth and let your hair dry. I’ll go grab some food from the Great Hall, I’ll be back soon.” She passed him his prosthetic and headed downstairs, leaving their household on the quest for food.

He doesn’t know how long he had been staring at the flames when she came back, a basket in hand. She approached him and sat on the floor beside him, handing him the food.

“Thank you, Milady.” He smiled at her.

“Sorry about not having any meals prepared at home.” She timidly said, looking down at her bowl of stew. “I tried to cook something from my mom’s recipes but my cooking skills are still pretty subpar. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t perfect.”

He recognized those words. It just wasn’t perfect. That’s why it took them so long to become a couple, to begin with. He knew he was romantic when it comes to being in a relationship. Even before he set his eyes on anyone, he already thought of perfect scenarios with his soulmate. All the gestures and gifts; anything to quench this loneliness he felt as a young boy. He wanted his partner to feel loved. That’s why the medallion incident hit him hard. Since when did he start neglecting Astrid, causing her to feel that exact same loneliness he once felt? He never thought she was a romantic, being a hardcore shieldmaiden most of her life. But he learned that she also longed for love, she was just better at hiding it. At that time, he was still self-conscious. He has never heard her telling him that she loved him, but hearing her share her insecurities, he realized that she has. So many times, through a variation of loving gestures that she reserved for him and only him. He felt guilty for being so blind, which is why he made up for it. She deserved the best. She deserved perfect.

“Hey.” He scooted closer to her, their shoulders bumping. “This seems pretty perfect to me.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “You have no idea how eternally grateful I am to have you. This whole thing you’ve prepared for me is just perfect. I love it. I love you. So much. Whether you managed to cook an intricate meal or just brought food back from the Great Hall wouldn’t have changed anything. You did this for me, and it made me so happy. And I get to spend some time with you. I couldn’t ask for more, Astrid. Thank you.” He tenderly kissed her lips.

“I’m glad.” She paused. “And relieved.” She confessed, a smile on her lips.

They happily ate in silence, occasionally striking a conversation or just randomly stole a kiss from each other; just enjoying each other’s presence.

Their empty bowls were cast aside as they cuddled in front of the fire; savouring this rare moment of peace and quiet. Hiccup ran his fingers through her now dry hair.

“Will you let me braid your hair?” She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding and turning her back to him. He delicately combed through her silky golden tresses with his fingers, undoing the small knots and separated her hair into three parts. He expertly twisted the locks in a loose braid. Usually, Astrid wouldn’t braid her hair when going to bed as it provided a thin layer of heat for her neck. Winter in New Berk was just as merciless as Old Berk, but right now, they were approaching the hottest days of the year. While the air was still cool when evening came, she didn’t need that much coverage as the fire heated the room to a perfect temperature.

Astrid passed the leather band that was hanging on her wrist to her husband as he finished tending her hair. He attached it and swept her hair over her shoulder. Placing a light peck on the nape. She shivered at the contact and fell back, trusting Hiccup to catch her, which he did. He pressed his lips on her now accessible forehead. She laid in his arms for a while, just relishing the feeling of having his arms around her and the small, tickling kisses all across her face.

“Is this what you’ve been up to the whole time when you said you wanted to go home?” He asked.

“The failed cooking took most of my time.” She lamented.

“Did you have time to rest?” Astrid looked away. She knew she needed extra time to do the cooking, but she didn’t expect to fail that hard. In the end, it took much more time than she expected. Not that she felt like she needed a break, her husband needed it more than she did. But she was hoping to have more quality time with him. Unfortunately, after the fourth try, she decided to throw the towel.

“I’ll rest when you do.” Just as she said that the blonde Viking let out a yawn.

“Well, someone is getting tired.” Hiccup teased.

“I’ve been tired since our beloved Goddess Sol decided to show off all her glory even more so than usual.” Hiccup fought back a yawn that didn’t go unnoticed by his wife. “Seems like I’m not the only one that’s tired. Come on babe, let’s get you to bed.” She freed herself from his embrace and got up, lending a hand to help her husband up too. They headed upstairs, leaving the dirty dishes for tomorrow.

Once in their bedroom again, they undressed and put on their thin nightwear, hoping to finally get a comfortable night of sleep. They got in bed and Hiccup spooned her, letting her get comfortable in his arms. They sighed in content.

“Astrid?” He hesitantly called out, hoping she didn’t already fall asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me”

“I know, but you always seem to know what I need before I even do. So, I want to thank you. I really appreciate it. I love you, Milady.” He kissed the back of her head.

She squeezed his hand that was resting around her waist. “I love you too.” She sleepily answered.

He tightened his arms around her as he let sleep consume him.

Gods, how he loved that woman.

oOo

So this one-shot was written while I was writing another Hiccstrid story. I just needed a break since I was having a writer's block and I desperately needed some heartwarming fluff because the other one is heavy, at least for me it is. This one-shot could possibly have a potential smut scene one day, I just have no idea how to write those yet.

The other story will be posted soon, depending on how inspired I am. It's either going to be a long one-shot or a short chaptered fiction. To this day, I have written around 11K words, and it could possibly reach 20K. All I'm going to reveal for now is that Astrid is going to have a bad time. Hopefully you guys will be interested.

Also, would anyone be interested in a separate one-shot on how Astrid got that scar? I don't know why, I love Astrid so much that I need to read/write Astrid!Whump fics.

#hiccstrid fanfiction #fanfic #hiccstrid #married life #Astrid Hofferson #Hiccup Haddock #httyd #httyd 3

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

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Logan’s Gay and Remy’s in a Suit

Summary: Just read the title Content: Gays, so much gays, nb!remy, nb!logan (he uses he/him pronouns but he’s still an enby suckers), mentions of dying of gay, logan thinking that flirting = bullying because he’s a useless gay Pairing: Romo losleep Notes: I’m so sleep-deprived I should be sleeping but i HAD to write this so. have it. inspired by this art by @strawberryjellystuff

Logan was a smart person. He knew a good deal of things. He knew the distance from the earth to the sun, to the moon, and to Mars. He knew the average amount of bones in the human body at any given interval of life. He knew the names of every capital of every city in north and south america.

He also knew that he was very, very gay. This fact alone wasn’t too shocking or even that impressive. Logan had known he was gay since he was fifteen. It hadn’t been hard to figure out.

It was the ‘very, very’ that was important. As a rule, Logan rarely felt the need to enhance his words with ‘very.’ He made his points, he made them clearly, and he made them exactly as he wanted them. There was no reason for him to use ‘very.’

Then he met Remy.

And Remy… woo boy. Remy.

Remy made Logan feel it extremely necessary to add ‘very, very’ to his normally adequate descriptor of ‘gay.’ That was because Remy was very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very pretty. And there was only a little bit of the author’s bias showing through in that statement. It was mostly cold, hard fact. You know because LOGAN’S thinking it and he thinks in pretty much only fact.

So Logan was gay, Remy was (objectively) the prettiest person to exist, and Logan was trying his hardest to stop his writer from taking away his braincells and turning him into a proper gay disaster.

Except he and Remy worked at the same university. In the same department. During most of the same hours.

Logan was having a hell of a time holding onto those braincells.

However, while it had taken time, Logan had adjusted. Survival of the fittest, and all- if Logan wasn’t able to adapt to constantly being around someone so pretty it was outlawed in several made-up countries and a few real ones, then Logan wasn’t fit enough to survive. So he had adapted and he had done so flawlessly.

Better put, he had suffered several weeks learning how to adjust to the fact that Remy’s naturally perfect looks were only increased by xyr leather jacket and sunglasses, the fact that xy knew how to smirk like xy owned the world (impossible, Logan had considered before, considering Remy was clearly the world, and one could not own oneself), and the fact that Remy was a bully.

That was the only word Logan had for Remy’s actions towards him, anyways- after all, there was no way Remy had missed the way Logan’s cheeks seemed to literally light on fire every time xy smiled at him, or the little giggle Logan had never properly learned to fight down every time Remy called him a petname (a wholly ridiculous response considering Remy called lots of people petnames- sure, xy only ever seemed to call Logan ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘light of my world and stars of my universe’ but that didn’t mean anything), or the way Logan stumbled over his every word when attempting to return an offhanded compliment that Remy likely had paid him by accident while thinking of… coffee. Remy did like xyr coffee, after all.

But Remy’s bullying aside, Logan HAD adapted. He was able to look at Remy with minimal flushing, he had become the master of avoiding conversation topics designed to trap him (though Remy was becoming creative with xyr compliment-trap setups… Logan would have to start adapting faster than Remy if he hoped to survive the semester), and he knew the fastest exits out of every room and building in the entire university, ensuring that- if ever needed- he could literally flee Remy. He was surviving in his new, Remy-included environment.

And then the author Jelly Remy decided to adapt as well.

It had been a normal day of work up until then- Logan was working on checking over papers and going through his lesson plan a few more times, making sure he had everything ready for the school day. Upon realizing his coffee had run low, he got up, stretching as he began to move towards the staff lounge, seeking a refill.

There was only one other teacher there at the moment, which Logan figured made sense- most of the astronomy professors had early morning classes, Logan being one of only two who didn’t. He had gotten out of it by luck- the other had insomnia and wasn’t normally at school in the mornings.

Logan barely glanced at xyr, however, wanting to get his coffee before he had to deal with being flustered at seven in the morning. He was fairly certain it wouldn’t be that bad of a fluster, anyways- he was at least partially prepared this time, and he was about to have coffee on his side, and it looked like Remy had traded xyr normal leather-jacket look for a suit of some kind, and Remy had probably had a rough night if xy were in early so xyr flusters wouldn’t be top of xyr game, and-

Logan stopped. Blinked. Processed. Processed again.

A… suit?

Logan turned to look at Remy and immediately regretted the decision. Because those braincells he had mentioned earlier? Gone. Stolen. Removed from existence. In theory, the author’s got them stored up somewhere but… eh, their location’s not important. Not like Logan could use them even if he found them.

Because Remy was in a suit- a blue suit with delicate, lovely white flower designs traced over the chest and around xyr wrists, complimented by a lovely purple tie Logan had never seen Remy wear before- mostly because Remy didn’t normally wear ties. Or suits. Why was Remy wearing a suit?

To kill me Logan decided barely a second later when Remy caught him staring and smirked at him in a way that was most decidedly an act of bullying.

“Good morning, sunlight and starshine.” Remy said, further proving that xy was a bully and that xy was bullying Logan right then and there, a conclusion Logan came too as he clamped a hand over his mouth and focused on not making any sound even slightly akin to a giggle. “How are you on this morning that’s nowhere near as fine as you?”

Logan, smartly, didn’t respond. Speaking would ultimately result in him stuttering, mumbling, and tripping over his words, which would make Remy smirk more, which would make Logan blush more, which would create a horrible cycle that would only end when either Remy left or Logan died. So, by not responding, the cycle never started and therefore could not end in Logan’s death.

In choosing to do nothing else but stare at Remy without saying a word, however, Logan apparently had responded, in a way- Remy’s smirk still grew and Logan still ended up blushed harder.

“Oh, darling, don’t tell me I’ve made you speechless.” Remy teased, moving from xyr spot against the wall to stand in front of Logan, tilting xyr head to the side. “No, wait, do tell me. I do love to hear your voice.”

Logan remained silent. Remy couldn’t go on forever with no new material… right?

“Or, hey, maybe it’s not me.” Remy went on, unconcerned with Logan’s silence. “Maybe you’re just tired. That’s why you were acting perfectly fine until you saw me, after all. Just tired. Is that right? Or should I keep guessing?”

Realizing that silence was getting him nowhere and nothing (besides more flustered), Logan decided to simply attempt to move on with his day. Maybe ignoring Remy would make xyr go away.

Logan had just barely turned to once more resume his walk to the coffee pot when he was forced to stop once more, this time not by Remy’s looks but by the fact that Remy had a hand and the ability to grab Logan’s wrist with it.

A very annoying ability for sure, given it not only prevented Logan from continuing with his brilliant plan of ‘if you just ignore xyr eventually xy’ll go away’, but also increased his blush and got him looking at Remy again which was increasing his blush even more. By now, Logan was fairly sure his entire face was red, which was completely unfair given that blue was much more his colour.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t be like that.” Remy said, voice now both confident and sweet, which wasn’t helping Logan’s goal to Just Stop Blushing Already at all. “If you really have had a long night, I don’t mean to tease.”

“N-no, I’m fine.” Logan said, which was a lie, because he wasn’t fine at all, he was doing terribly, but he was also doing a million times better than usual, which also wasn’t fine but it was in a completely different direction than terribly. So, either way, his statement was a lie. “Just uh… a long morning.”

Logan realized that was the wrong answer the moment Remy’s softer smile once more became a smirk. “I take it back, then. I very much mean to tease.”

“Ah-” Logan cleared his throat, trying to find a way to backtrack, “I do have, uh, a couple of papers to take care of, so-”

“And you don’t have class for at least another hour.” Remy pointed out for him, still holding onto his wrist and giving no indication that xy’d be letting go of it anytime soon. “You’ve got the time to spare for a bit of conversation with your favorite colleague.”

“You presume to be my favorite?” Logan managed to say without tripping over any of his words.

Remy’s smirk just turned knowing. “I don’t have to be a poker player to spot your tells, babe. Unless, of course, you have another reason for constantly blushing around me.”

“You possibly have a higher-than-average body temperature that causes all the objects and people within your near vicinity to heat up as well, therefore prompting a blush in those organisms that have the ability to blush.” Logan offered, well aware everything he was saying was bullshit meant only as a poor attempt to save himself.

Unsurprisingly, Remy saw right through him. “Nah, hun, I don’t think it’s that. You can try again, if you want, but if you’d let me take a crack at it-”

“Please do not.” Logan interrupted rather hurriedly, which only fueled Remy’s amusement. “I am simply… tired. And busy. So, ah, if you’ll excuse me, I really should be getting back to my work-”

“Alright, beautiful, I know when I’m wanted.” Remy said, politely half-ignoring as Logan looked away and pretended to cough into his arm as he let out a small giggle. “One question before you go?”

“I really should be-”

“Are you free tonight?”

That shut Logan up. “I- what?”

“Are you free tonight?” Remy repeated, only smiling at Logan’s confusion. “I know this really lovely place downtown, I promise you you’ll love it, though not nearly as much as I love you-”

“I- what?!” Logan said, more panickedly this time. Tonight? Restaurant? Love you?

Remy titled xyr head to the side, looking puzzled. “I don’t know how to make this any clearer for you, love.”

“I- ah- you- are you- are you asking me out on- on a date?” Logan demanded, not caring much for how many times he had to restart his sentence but having no solution for that particular problem.

“...I would’ve hoped that was fairly obvious, yes.” Remy answered, shaking xyr head a bit as they continued to watch Logan with amused confusion. “This isn’t a surprise to you, is it?”

“Well- I- uh- it’s just-”

Remy laughed. “Oh, darling, I hate to laugh at you, but- Lo, hun, I’ve been flirting with you for weeks now. This can’t be that shocking.”

“You’ve been flirting with me?!” Logan responded. “When?!”

“I- Logan, I’ve been calling you the most ridiculous of petnames, complimenting you every time you so much as blink, repeatedly breaking into your classroom to force you to eat lunch with me, interrupting your classes to tease you- what do you think I’ve been doing?”

“Bullying me!”

“I was- I’m sorry, say that again?”

“Bullying me!” Logan repeated as asked, moving his coffee cup into the hand that Remy was holding hostage so that he could run his fingers through his hair, feeling frazzled. “You kept- you kept doing things to make me blush and- and lose focus- and- and giggle, for gods’ sakes- what else could you have been doing?!”

To Logan’s surprise, instead of defending xyrself, Remy just laughed as xyr face broke out in the widest grin Logan had seen xyr wearing all morning. “You absolute dork.” Xy said, though xyr tone was only endearing. “You really are a disaster gay, huh?”

“...Just a little.” Logan said weakly, before forcing himself to amend, “Maybe a lot.”

“A lot sounds more accurate, yeah.” Remy agreed, still laughing a bit. “Bullying you- oh, you really are too cute, sugar.”

Logan resisted the urge to run to exit number fifty-nine and escape the blush that, at this point, was likely hot enough to permanently burn his skin. “You’re still being a bully.”

“Oh, probably.” Remy admitted before xyr grin was once again replaced by a smirk Logan had both memorized and yet also knew he would never get used to. “But am I being too much of a bully that you won’t go out on a date with me?”

“I- uh- I-” Logan ducked his head. He couldn’t accept Remy’s offer, he really couldn’t, it would almost guarantee his death, and he had worked so hard to become immune to Remy’s killer charm (pun not intended and not appreciated).

But at the same time… Logan wasn’t sure he had the willpower to refuse.

So, predictably, he settled for a quick little nod that said everything Remy needed to hear without Logan having to stutter his way through a single word.

Remy’s grin turned dazzling. “Perfect!” Xy exclaimed, quickly pressing a kiss to Logan’s cheek before he could even begin to react. “I’ll pick you up after all our classes are out, okay?”

“O-okay.” Logan said numbly, free hand raising to rest over the spot where Remy had kissed him, feeling half-trapped in a dream.

“Perfect!” Remy repeated, still grinning as xy let go of Logan’s hand, heading towards the door, bursting with energy and clearly on xyr way to continue planning the exacts of Logan’s demise.

Before xy could fully get out of the room, however, Logan managed to get his voice back about him and call out, “Wait!”

Remy immediately stopped, turning back to look at Logan. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I- uh-” Logan gestured vaguely at Remy, “Your suit. You- You never wear suits. Why today…?”

At that, Remy’s grin just widened to a degree Logan wasn’t entirely sure should be humanly possible. “For our date, of course!” Xy answered, raising xyr sunglasses just so that xy could wink at Logan. “I had a feeling you’d say yes.”

And with that, Remy left, leaving Logan to stand in the middle of the staff lounge, empty coffee mug still in one hand, the other still resting on his cheek and over the spot where Remy had kissed him, feeling dazed in the best sort of way possible.

He was still standing there when another one of the teachers wandered in, shooting him a strange look. “Are you alright, Logan?”

“Not at all.” Logan answered truthfully.

He was much, much better than alright.

#losleep #write losleep cowards #ts logan #ts remy #ts sleep #nb!remy #nb!logan #the cryptid speaks #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #imma post this and then pass out someone remind me to set this up to queue later #also if y'all spot an accidental misgendering let me know so i can change it when i'm more awake

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

Text

I’m still thinking through names I like for Cass better than Orphan or Black Bat (which I don’t hate like I do Orphan, but I’ve always felt that the name Black Bat came more out of just ‘come up with something franchise themed’ than trying to find something for Cass specifically), for when she’s not Batgirl or Steph is instead. Not for any particular project or anything, I’ve just been stuck on that train of thought since falling onto it the other day.

I think I’ve given up on it being Red themed lol. My dreams for Batfam symmetry are doomed to come to naught. C’est la vie.

Currently though most of the ideas I have are all central to or revolving around communication or connection, because I honestly think those are thematically so PIVOTAL to who Cass is.....but the danger is something like that coming across as ironic due to Cass not being particularly talkative in a lot of peoples’ interpretations or views, and its absolutely not meant to be, not for the reasons I’m thinking.

Like because the thing about her childhood is....there’s so much to focus on that was fucked up about what David Cain put her through, its impossible to have a specific place to ‘start’. But I think something that definitely at least has to be way up there is the isolation he forced her to live most of her early life in. Deprived of even the POSSIBILITY of connection to others. Because connection is so fundamental to what makes us human. As well as to what makes Cass “Cass.” Cass THRIVES due to the connections she chooses for herself. Don’t get me wrong, she’s fully capable on her own, its not about suggesting she’s reliant on them.....for me, its more about the triumph of her having the freedom and CHOICE now to connect herself to as many people as she chooses, when originally her father had meant for her to basically exist APART from society. Emphasizing the importance of connection and communication to Cass is like, a definite fuck you to her dad and his plans for her, a symbol of her freedom and independence.

But also its not JUST that, because its also just about the sheer joy of connecting for Cass, because its the fulfillment of dreams she never really expected to become reality. Because as much as her life with David defined a large portion of her childhood, she was also shaped in no small part by the years she spent on her own....where even though she was out from under Cain’s thumb, she was still influenced by the specter of him and everything he’d ever said to her. She kept herself apart from society for the most part, even though now technically she was free to mingle among it if she chose....because she felt guilt-ridden over the death she’d been party to though it had never truly been her fault and she was very much Cain’s victim there as well as the man who died, rather than him being her victim.

But the point is, a lot of the second half of her childhood was spent in silence as well, albeit self-imposed silence....except also no, fuck that, it wasn’t self-imposed because she was still suffering from the trauma of her worldview being so heavily shaped and influenced by her abusive fucknugget of a father, who’d essentially spent years convincing her that words weren’t for her, that communication, that connection, those were things for people other than her but would forever elude her because she just wasn’t BORN to partake in those things. She stayed outside of society, made no real effort to figure out if she COULD learn to communicate like others did, because her abuse in no small part had revolved around making her believe it was just her place to be silent, her role. That a weapon didn’t need words.

So in the family and fulfillment Cass found later in Barbara and Bruce and Steph and others, like.....it wasn’t just about her finding companionship or even a sense of purpose or direction......she found a voice. Even if she speaks more with sign than out loud or even if she has trouble translating her thoughts into words or sign language due to learning disability or the like, Cass very much COMMUNICATES, she connects, she has things to say, and she more than anyone understands the importance of a voice, whether spoken or written or signed, of the power inherent in just being able to use it and express oneself.

And its equally key that Bruce and Babs and others didn’t GIVE that to her, because how could they? It was something she had all along because the reality is no matter how hard he tried, it was something Cain couldn’t truly take from her. All he could do (and make no mistake, I use “all he could do” to emphasize the ultimate failure of his attempts to control her rather than to dilute the extent of trauma his abuse did inflict) - but even his attempts to cut her off from people and isolate her via an inability to communicate.....they relied wholly on denying her the tools and opportunities to learn how to make use of her voice, of the things she wanted and needed to say.

So its not a gift that Babs and Bruce bestowed on her, because it wasn’t something anyone COULD give her anymore than it could fully be taken from her. But they did help her find that she had things to say and she had ways to say them. That she deserved to be heard and understood as much as anybody, and that she had so much in her that had just been waiting for someone to tell it to and ways for her to do that. They helped show her how to connect her voice to the right audiences for it, to communicate to people who would hear her and as Batgirl and Black Bat.....to people who NEEDED to hear her. For whom the things she could communicate via her actions and protection as much as anything else.....like that was a message they needed to hear themselves due to the abusers and villains in their own lives.

And I just see that as so.....triumphant for Cass is the word I honestly keep going back to the most.

I’ve called Dick’s approach to vigilantism his form of performance art. Carrying something that holds great importance to him even if others might overlook its significance, into what he does as a vigilante in ways that everyone he helps benefits from. Even if they don’t realize that his light-hearted performances even while sweeping them out of the path of danger is as much to help buffer them from the trauma of what is happening to them and how much they’ve already suffered.....those are as much a part of his aim to protect and make peoples’ lives better as his actual martial arts.

In the same sense, I consider Cass’ approach to vigilantism her form of connectivity. Its her message to people who need to hear, to see, to believe that there is help for them out there, that there is someone who wants to come for them, someone who wants to bring them out of whatever hole or isolation or danger they’ve fallen or been forced into....they need this as much as Cass needs it to be able to say look at me, look at my actions, I did that, I said that, that was ME.

For Cass, I feel vigilantism is about finding her voice, finding ways to put into message form others can understand even on a primal level the things she wants to communicate, that she wishes had been communicated earlier to her...that everyone deserves to be connected, to have connections, and to just....speak. In whatever form they can or choose to.

Its about the ability and freedom to use her voice, to impart her messages....and see those things have IMPACT. Be heard. Seen. Communicated.

And for those reasons I keep coming back to something like Songbird, but its ugh....its such a Catch 22. It would be so easy to misconstrue, but honestly I think it fits what I’m describing so well and like.....whatever, ultimately it doesn’t matter since this is just a headcanony thing anyway and not going to actually change anything, but like....I am The Undecided.

(Also I know Marvel already has a Songbird, but a) I dont care, like Marvel is stupid so umm why would that even matter yeah thats what I thought and b) I mean Songbird is an easy name to attach to any color one wants to make part of her name and ascribe particular significance to. Like she could be Red Songbird? Scarlet Songbird? Yes? No? Give up the dream Kalen, Big Red, Middle Red and Lil’ Red just ain’t it? Ugh, fine. Booo.)

But anyway, that’s what I’ve been musing on.

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tealin · 4 years

Text

Cape Crozier: The Return Journey

As usual, please visit the original blog for proper formatting and images that actually turn up ... All the more important for this one because the punchline is a picture.

When the Crozier party turned their frostbitten faces back to Cape Evans on 25 July 1911, they had endured some of the worst conditions man has ever had to face – at least while armed with the necessary scientific equipment to quantify them. Record cold, hurricane-force winds, a three-day blizzard with no greater shelter than their sopping wet reindeer skin sleeping bags; all this in the dark of polar midwinter. The one small but significant mercy was that they had not lost their tent. They knew that, leaving the moderating influence of the sea at Cape Crozier, they would be plunging again into the brutal cold of Windless Bight, but that was the way home, and home they had to go.

Cherry describes cooking as being the third worst job. Some parts of the cooker set had been lost in the hurricane, and though they improvised one with the lid of a biscuit tin, the cooker still had to be balanced on top of the Primus stove by whoever was on duty. The matches in their dreadful metal tins had only got more frosted since the outward journey. The strings on the ration bags were like steel wires. It took more than an hour to get their pemmican hoosh made.

The worst job was thawing oneself into one's sleeping bag at the end of the day. The sleeping bags had absorbed so much moisture by now that they were more or less solid ice. The men had figured out early on that if one's sleeping kit were plugged into the mouth of the bag in the morning, one got a small headstart thawing in. It still took over an hour of melting the bag open inch by inch with their own body heat to open it fully, and begin the second worst job of the night, which was lying in the freezing wet bag for six hours. Wilson had made them lie for eight on the outward journey, whether they slept or not – mostly not, by Cherry's recollection – solely for the sake of giving their bodies a rest, but this was agreed to be so unpleasant that they lowered it to six on the return.

Cherry only got two good sleeps, and these were a gift from Bowers: Each of them had an eiderdown lining for their bags, and Cherry's had reached unendurable saturation at Cape Crozier. For days Birdie had been urging me to use his eider-down lining – his beautiful dry bag of the finest down – which he had never slipped into his own fur bag. I had refused: I felt that I should be a beast to take it. [286] Cherry finally relented when he felt as if I should crack … I felt a brute to take it, but I was getting useless unless I got some sleep which my [too] big bag would not allow. [287] After two nights Birdie's eiderdown was too wet to be much help, but that sleep did make a difference.

Dangerously sleep-deprived and nearing the limits of physical resilience, they found themselves nodding off as they marched to make up for the sleep not slept in their bags. Instead of marching in a close cluster, Wilson extended his lead so as to walk well ahead, and thereby spot any crevasses: if he were to fall in, he would be anchored by those safely on solid ground, and they could pull him out. And then, of course, they would know there was a crevasse.

They escaped the worst of the outward temperatures, but -66°F was bad enough. Wilson's bag was too small, and with the extra pressure of the his eiderdown inside it, had begun to split. Most of Cherry's teeth shattered in the cold. But, as Cherry said, now they were callous, and with only one sledge to haul, they were making much better time than they had on the outward journey.

Our departure from Cape Crozier was far less dramatic. We had all scrambled back to the helicopter without mishap or loss, and our pilot took off into the rising wind, in which everything to the south was an indistinct haze. There was no question of taking the Winter Journey route back to McMurdo as visibility was far worse than when we'd been denied that way on the outward flight, so it was back around the island the long way again.

Luckily this meant that we, unlike the egg hunters, got a second go at the penguins. They are under a strict protection order, so a helicopter can't get too close lest it disturb them in any way, but in our swoop around to get the best view of their situation, we did get close enough to see them.

See that sprinkling of black dots down in the finger bay, like the dust on a table where a pepper grinder sits? Those are the Emperors! Here's a closer look:

Then it was time to round the corner and fly back along the north coast to our own version of home. You can see how the cloud cover erases nearly all detail on the snowy slopes of Ross Island and why we couldn't have flown back the cloudy way. As it was, we flew mostly over the sea ice, which was mottled enough to be visible even in the diffuse light.

We only had to get through this patch of cloud and then, as you can see in the distance above, we would reach sunnier skies and safer flying. Retracing more or less the same route we had followed, but this time with the impression of a blizzard sweeping over the island, the strong wind was evident both in the drift blowing off the ice cliffs and how the sea ice, which had been solid around the coast on our outward journey, was now being blown off.

Our return journey certainly couldn't have been more different from the Crozier party's.

Our own final stretch was in the opposite direction, and the first of the 'home' sights was Cape Royds, above, site of another Adélie colony, and the Nimrod hut where Terra Nova men would go for a mini-break from Cape Evans during the first winter, when they weren't hieing off to Cape Crozier. Then, as we left the lee of Ross Island and headed back into the cloud as it poured around this side, a more familiar cape came into view:

Back over Great Razorback, with Turk's Head nearly lost in fog . . .

Back over Glacier Tongue, with seals sleeping where the last lunch of the Winter Journey was had ...

Back over the uncommon luxury of the Discovery hut …

And back to McMurdo, safe and sound.

We trudged on for several more hours and it grew very dark. There was a discussion as to where Cape Evans lay. We rounded it at last : it must have been ten or eleven o'clock, and it was possible that some one might see us as we pulled towards the hut. "Spread out well," said Bill, "and they will be able to see that there are three men." But we pulled along the cape, over the tide-crack, up the bank to the very door of the hut without a sound. No noise from the stable, nor the bark of a dog from the snow drifts above us. We halted and stood there trying to get ourselves and one another out of our frozen harnesses – the usual long job. The door opened – " Good God! here is the Crozier Party," said a voice, and disappeared.

Thus ended the worst journey in the world. [298-9]

Inside was pandemonium. Most men had gone to bed, and I have a blurred memory of men in pyjamas and dressing-gowns getting hold of me and trying to get the chunks of armour which were my clothes to leave my body. Finally they cut them off and threw them into an angular heap at the foot of my bunk. Next morning they were a sodden mass weighing 24 lbs. Bread and jam, and cocoa; showers of questions; "You know this is the hardest journey ever made," from Scott; a broken record of George Robey on the gramophone which started us laughing until in our weak state we found it difficult to stop. ... Then into my warm blanket bag, and I managed to keep awake just long enough to think that Paradise must be something like this.

We slept ten thousand years ... [301]

When my coordinator had phoned me with the details of our flight that afternoon, she apologised that, due to the weather, we couldn't take the Winter Journey route, and would have to go the longer northerly way instead. I replied that it was no problem, and "If Cherry knew I was going to fly to Cape Crozier in 35 minutes, his ghost would skua-dive me," referring to the local species of gull which is notorious for divebombing anyone with the temerity to carry a tasty snack outdoors. She had been on the receiving end of this once or twice in the past, and had told me shortly after my arrival that it feels like being hit on the back of the head with a roasting chicken.

When we were heading north on our way out, and our pilot was briefing us on the route and the flight time, again apologising for the change of plan, my coordinator told him about our conversation, except that instead of the skua-diving ghost she said "Cherry would turn over in his grave."

Our return to McMurdo passed without comment – we had only been gone a couple of hours, and after all, helicopters come and go all the time; there was no reason ours should be more remarkable than any other. It was near enough to dinner time that, once I thanked our pilot profusely and gave my flight gear back to Helo Ops, then swapped my accursed bunny boots for lighter shoes back in my office, there wasn't anything else to do but head to the galley to see what there was to eat.

Well.

#antarctica #cape crozier #snow #winter #ice #snowscape #helicopter #turnovers

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pastelsapphy · 5 years

Note

Why does Sylvian hates himself?

(This ended up being really long whoops)

*cracks knuckles* time to talk about my boy

[All quotes taken from the Fire Emblem Fandom Wiki, so there may be some slight inaccuracies]

Okay so first off Sylvain grew up in a shitty environment, to say the absolute least, and that fucks with your head.

First: his brother. He attempted to kill Sylvain on multiple occasions as kids because Sylvain had a Crest. And Sylvain just like, accepts that??? You can see that a lot in his A support with Byleth. He talked about being shoved in a well and being left on a mountain in winter by his brother, and almost immediately followed up with “I have no right to complain” because he, in theory, got lucky: he got the Crest.

And you figure, he would’ve grown up apologizing and made to feel guilty just for existing. You can see in his dialogue against Miklan, in chapter five:

Miklan: Hmph! Hurry up and die already. If not for you… If it hadn’t been for you…

Sylvain: Shut up! I’m so tired of hearing that. You’ve always blamed me for something that isn’t my fault.

He’s definitely been saying that since they were kids. That kinda stuff really fucks with your sense of self-worth after a while.

Then we have the rest of his family. We don’t hear anything about his mother, or much about his father, but we can infer some things about the latter: Margrave Gautier disowned, abandoned, and cast aside his first son in favor of the one with a Crest. Considering the dialogue about “everything being taken away” from Miklan, it’s possible that he was being raised to be the next Margrave, because someone had to inherit–with Crests becoming less common, who knows how long it would’ve taken to get a kid with one, if they got one at all? They needed a backup plan. And then Sylvain came along, with the minor Crest of Gautier, and suddenly Miklan didn’t exist. That’s fucked up, and it shows how little Margrave Gautier cared about his kids. I honestly doubt he showed Sylvain any kind of affection or attention growing up, and probably only interacted with him for inheritance- and Crest-related reasons. To him, Sylvain was a walking Crest, not a person (Sylvain’s fear of people only ever wanting him for his Crest, and not as a person in any respect, had to come from somewhere).

(And, if I can add a bit of an aside, I feel like this is the root of his philandering. Makes me think of the whole “even negative attention is better than nothing” kinda thing. You figure, Little Sylvain would have been incredibly touch-starved and desperate for attention. Humans are a social species and we literally need attention and affection to live well. I mean, he flirted with Ingrid’s grandmother when he was eight. I can only imagine what he said/did if Ingrid remembered it, considering she would have been five or six at the time. And kids that young don’t really know any better yet. Poor kid probably just wanted attention.)

(Additional aside that came to mind while writing this: I wonder if seeing the arrangement between Ingrid and Glenn affected this at all? Like yeah marriages in that kind of setting were purely political and such, but Ingrid was engaged to Glenn because (a) House Fraldarius was a powerful, well-to-do noble family and House Galatea really needed the resources, and (b) Ingrid was desirable as a wife because she had a Crest. Of course, we don’t know the exact circumstances of the arrangement, but we can infer from her other prospects. Sylvain still would have essentially seen Ingrid being used for leverage because of her Crest.)

So long before the events of the game, Sylvain is already pretty fucked up, emotionally. Trauma does that to you, especially when you have an “everyone else has it worse and I, actually, got lucky, so it doesn’t count and I’m not allowed to feel bad about it” complex. Survivor’s guilt is a hell of a drug lemme tell you. Sylvain has already internalized that,

He’s only good for his Crest

Any negative feelings about his Crest don’t matter, because those without have it worse.

No one will ever truly see him as a person–he’s just a Crest.

Already, that’s a pretty fucked up view of oneself.

By the time he gets to Garreg Mach, he has a carefully crafted persona set up: He’s an asshole, a liar, a serial flirt and cheater, dumb as a box of rocks, and a self-proclaimed “good-for-nothing.” In his B support with Dedue, you hear that people describe him as “indefensibly worthless,” which is followed by,

Sylvain: Indefensibly? Heh, that’s a bit harsh.

Dedue: I already knew your reputation concerning women. But these new rumors deprive you of all redemption. I did try to correct them. But I doubt I was believed.

Sylvain: Well, thank you all the same. Listen. You don’t need to worry what people think about me. As you well know, it’s not easy to correct misunderstandings or change people’s minds. And if I’m going to behave so badly, it seems misunderstandings are inevitable.

He doesn’t even argue, just kinda brushes it off and accepts that’s just How He Is (listen, Sylvain can definitely be an asshole at times, but I have to agree with that being harsh). He doesn’t want people to expect anything from him (well, not anything good). In his supports with Annette, he’s shown to be pretty smart, but admits he hides it because the pressure it puts on him is suffocating. He kinda goes out of his way to hide his more redeeming qualities like that. Also on that point, we have this bit from his B support with Ashe,

Sylvain: […] My advice on the whole thing is just to follow your instincts. That’s what I do. If someone’s in trouble, I help them. You don’t need to be a valiant knight to know that. Doesn’t matter if the person is an ugly old man or the cutest girl you’ve ever seen, you help ‘em.

Ashe: So, you’re saying…

Sylvain: Everybody’s the same, deep down. It’s our job to help anyone who needs it.

Ashe: Ah!

Sylvain: What? You’re looking at me funny. Did I say something wrong?

Ashe: No! No. I’m just surprised, that’s all. You’re actually a much better person than I thought.

“You’re actually a much better person than I thought.” Several of his supports have some variation of this line. Usually after he does something kind. And I mean, Sylvain is a kind person, under the philandering. Most of his supports involve him helping others out somehow.

He helps Dimitri with the girl situation (he kinda got him into it in the first place but I digress)

His whole C with Dedue is pretty much “racism is stupid and I’m going to be your friend, fuck what everyone else says.”

In his supports with Felix and Ashe, he helps them out in battle, at a detriment to himself (You can also throw Byleth in here, during their A support, but he was a jerk in their C and B).

In his Annette supports, she calls him out for going easy on her during training. He admits he was, but only because he didn’t want her to feel bad because she puts so much effort into her work while he “sorta gets by on [his] wits”

Okay I need to say how much I love his supports with Bernadetta???? He does genuinely try to compliment her work, and when he sees speaking to Bernie face-to-face won’t work, he goes out of his way to write a nice and well-worded review (a fairly lengthy one, according to Bernie) and compliment of her work–which Bernadetta takes to much better than she did talking in person. And this is one of the few supports where he doesn’t try to flirt. He’s just trying to give her genuine compliments on her writing and goes out of his way to do it without upsetting her.

His support with Hilda could go a few ways, but he did return the books for her and he did apparently get yelled at for something he didn’t do and didn’t even try to deflect that. And it seems that’s not even why he confronts her later: it’s because of how her actions were detrimental to other people (”And those books you left in your room for so long? Teachers and classmates needed those. So stop lying, and maybe stop being quite as selfish too.”). It’s not until she asks if the librarian said anything that he’s like “Oh, yeah, they yelled at me.”

And a fair amount of people still see him as “indefensibly worthless.” Sylvain often goes out of his way to help people, but he tends to brush it off and keep it lowkey.

I got a little off track here, but my point for this is Sylvain projects an outward appearance of being a really shitty, deplorable person. Almost everyone he has supports with is GENUINELY surprised when they realize that no, he’s not as bad as all the rumors about him imply. Sylvain just doesn’t really want people to know. And, as much as he plays it off like he doesn’t care, that kind thing gets to you after a while. So everyone except a handful of close friends seeing him in such a negative light? It filters in eventually, even if you’re not already emotionally fucked up.

Another thing I want to point out: A lot of times, it seems like Sylvain does not give a shit about what happens to him. A few of his support conversations involve him taking a blow in battle to protect someone else (and his attitude afterward is “better me than them”). Reading his A+ with Felix, “…protecting me like that. You’re so weak and yet you always… always…” this is definitely something Sylvain has a habit of doing. Additionally, we have one of his goal requests: “The best way to impress people is to save them by diving into harm’s way. That’s what a Great Knight does, yeah?” In true Sylvain style he covers it with “I just want to impress people” but he’s still devoting his training to being the guy who jumps in front of everyone else to tank the hit. Fully committing to that kind of thing takes more than just a shallow want to “impress people.” Then there’s his Monastery line to Byleth, toward the end of Verdant Wind I believe?, where he says he fights like he wants to die. Which…. yeah.

Another line of his that sticks with me: “burn until we meet again,” after defeating an enemy post-time skip. A friend of mine pointed out it might just be dramatic, but I think about that a lot. Does he think he’s going to the 3h equivalent of hell??? Does he think he’s that terrible of a person??

Uh this turned out to be a lot longer than i thought. So I guess to sum up:

Sylvain grew up internalizing the idea that he doesn’t have any worth as a person. Everything he is and has is related to his Crest. Everything that people feel towards him is related to his Crest and not who he is as a person.

He internalized the idea that because he has a Crest, that he’s not allowed to be upset about any of this, because he got lucky.

Growing up with Miklan’s abuse, he was definitely made to feel guilty about simply daring to exist. So he grows up hating himself.

He developed an outward persona that only reinforced these ideas–he makes and lets people believe he’s a piece of shit.

His attitude in battle shows how little he seems to care about himself.

tl;dr: Sylvain grew up without any love or affection, and was severely emotionally fucked up by his family, which complicated his relationships with other people and his view of himself as a person and his worth. He purposely projected an image of himself to support this, letting people believe he’s a shit person and doesn’t argue back because he feels it’s well-deserved. He doesn’t seem to think he’s actually worth anything. Sylvain, of course, like all people, has negative traits–that’s just part of being human. But his sense of self has been so warped and twisted over the years that he can’t seem to do anything but hate himself.

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