gender-bent male historical figures: because i can. | NATALIE DORMER as HARRIET V, the legendary warrior queen who led her army into the heart of france, and conquered the nation through political acumen and military might by the age of 35.
“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
for he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile;
This day shall gentle his condition,
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
shall thinks themselves accurs’d they were not here
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon St Crispin’s day.”
“assurances of attachment” - fic
A conversation from earlier today reminded me of this fic - a Pride and Prejudice genderswap fic with m!Elizabeth, f!Darcy, and everyone else per canon. It takes place towards the end of the timeline.
…
Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.
Henry had lain awake for hours, thinking of—among other things—how on earth he was to introduce the subject of his impending marriage to his father. Not, of course, that a man of five and twenty needed permission to marry any woman he chose, much less a man of five and twenty with his family’s estate entailed upon him, but he knew Mr Bennet would disapprove of the object of his choice, would be made unhappy, even. Of course that could not compare with the joy of Catherine’s acceptance, but - he was sorry that he, his father’s favourite, would likely be paining him as much as Lydia had, and could not help but wish for Mr Bennet’s blessing.
Julia Jones as Captain Boromírë—Warden of the White Tower and Steward-Princess of Gondor, daughter of Denethor II and older sister to Faramírë, as well as a well-respected warrior and leader of the Gondorian armies. Boromirë represented the interests of her people at the Council of Elrond, after having been sent to Rivendell at the urging of her father. She lost her bid for the Ring to be used in Gondor’s defense, but she pledged herself to the Fellowship of the Ring nevertheless. However, the Ring’s power and her desperation to see Gondor defended wore down her honor, and confronted Freyda Baggins and caused the Hobbit to flee. In the ensuing search, the Fellowship was beset by orcs, and Boromir fell coming to the aid of her companions.
(part VII in the series YOU LOOK UPON A WOMAN, a project which reimagines Lord of the Rings with a cast of women of color)
People whining about how their fandom for an immensely male-dominated canon has been overtaken by genderbending?
Do you know what I like the most here? They’re women and they ARE NOT wearing super sexualized leather clothes or posing in impossible ways.
And, of course, the Captain America 40’s hair.
this is perfect.
THIS is how you do genderbends. There is NO reason to sexualize their costumes or their poses unless you’re going for a porn thing (perfectly acceptable). The only costume that’s really been changed at all is Bruce’s and all they’ve really done is exchanged the pants for a pencil skirt. Not a mini-skirt. A pencil skirt.
Also the fact that Nat’s costume is completely unchanged on the male version just goes to show how little the original is sexualized, despite what people think. It’s figure-hugging, yes. So is Cap’s, so is Clint’s, so is Tony’s for that matter. Hulk strips down to a pair of ripped shorts, for christ’s sake. It looks like her butt is emphasized because Scarlett happens to have a bangin’ ass that looks good in a cat-suit. If she had a flat butt, it would look flat.
Okay, I’m done.
This is abso-fucking-lutely brilliant. Especially everyone’s hair.
The decision to keep Fury bald is just amazing. One thing about super-ladies that really bothers me is that they always have this mass of hair that is just begging to be grabbed by some assailant or getting in their face. Lady Thor’s braids are also fantastic, very true to Norse tradition, and Lady Tony’s hair is perfect.
I REALLY LIKE THE HAIR
LOVELY.
gokotta - (n) lit. “dawn picnic to hear the first birdsong”; the act of rising early in the morning to go outside to appreciate nature
mako studies traditional firebending forms from korra. (fem!makorra, T)
*****
Mako demands they train at dawn, when the sun spills into the Republic City streets only bare hours after the city has finally gone to sleep. It’s when she feels the best—habit, perhaps, after years of waking and moving, of early-morning work shifts, of poor draws for the probending gym; or maybe it’s instinct that’s fuelled the habit instead, prickles on her freshly-woken mind and twitches in her fingertips that light with a snap. Korra moans, but Mako knows to ignore her until she’s fallen asleep during morning meditation, her head slumped just close enough to Mako’s side that Mako can just feel her breath against her hand.
The breath is what Mako first learned to control when she struggled with her firebending in the beginning. That steady and long breathing makes for more tighter range and better blasts is only intuitive; now, up so close and so often with another firebender, Mako learns to exploit weaknesses in breath, in predicting patterns and movements by a swelling chest. Korra teaches her this, her movements slowed with Mako’s hand pressed between her shoulderblades to feel the rise and fall of her lungs with the contraction of her muscles. Within the week, Mako can taste fire on her tongue with every breath, anticipate the snap and burst of Korra’s own firebending when they spar by the Air Temples.
(They study breath at night, too—this time not slow and controlled but heavy, hot, sparks trailing along their skin. Mako fumbles her hands over Korra’s breasts, and Korra hisses that her hands are hot, burying her own in Mako’s choppily-cut hair and pulling her down closer to open, sloppy kisses in the uneven rhythm of her pants.)
