#she's getting union representation

[itsladykit]

Wild to me that non-represented employees get upset at represented employees for having benefits.

That's not something to be angry at your fellow worker for--you should be angry that management will take advantage of employees that don't have a union's protection.

The union is not the bad guy here.

[asinglesock]

unemployment arc update

[iscariotapologist]

to be very honest the genre of rock bands who made a bunch of songs about their weird feelings about god in the 00s-10s (red, flyleaf, disciple, fireflight et al.) still have a grip on me and some of them are even still good. not most of them though

[yawnderu]

Simon lets out a deep chuckle as he sees your daughter pick flowers from the light, clean grass, her tiny hands barely even managing to gather enough strength to get the stems out of the ground.

“C'mon, that's enough.” His voice is patient, calloused hands picking his daughter up as he brings her up to his chest, a small smile when he sees her holding onto the flowers for dear life, giggles leaving her lips as he starts bouncing her while they walk.

It became a routine, in a way, for Simon to bring his daughter whenever he visits his family. She's too young to understand, so pure, so untainted from the dangers of the world, always kept safe by Simon and you, yet he can't fight off the urge to make his family see her.

He walks for a few minutes, enjoying the chilly air while his daughter cuddles up to him, one of her tiny hands gripping his jacket, while the other one is still holding onto the flowers. He stops in front of a set of four graves, the familiar pit of dread setting deep within him starts to come out, shaky hands managing to gently put the little girl down on the cold ceramic.

Mrs. Riley.

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

Simon was hiding his hurt quite well, managing to sit down next to his little girl, one hand on her back as she started crawling around, finally setting the flowers down.

“Mum?” His voice is quiet, almost cracking, as if he was the scared little boy his mother defended with her life. His daughter looks up at him with curious brown eyes, sitting down and entertaining herself with her own onesie.

“I remember telling you I'd never settle down because I could never get as lucky as Tommy and Beth...” He dragged out, gaze going down to the ring on his finger, the physical representation of your union.

“You've met my wife before, and now I want you to see my kid too.” He's barely managing to speak, words coming out rough and choked up as his hand caresses his daughter's thin hair, making him pause just to examine her features. She's a tiny carbon copy of him, a lovely nose and a set of brown eyes that will never see the horrors he lived.

“She's a proper daddy's girl, but you would've loved each other.” He's sure of it. His mum was always so lovely, so nurturing. A true angel on earth with way too much forgiveness and patience for her own good.

He picks his daughter up, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Simon thought he cried all his tears when he was a little boy, yet his nose is starting to sting, vision getting blurry for a few seconds until a choked sob manages to escape his lips. He's quick to wipe any tears away, simply trying to focus on the peace and quiet the cemetery offers, his hand running up and down his daughter's back, patting it softly just to hear that little giggle that seems to always repair his broken soul.

“All of you would've loved her, shy little thing she is.” He sniffles again before a quiet laugh leaves his lips, smiling despite the way his eyes are still filled with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“I'm quittin' the SAS soon, don't want her to grow up without a father. The wife's happy about it, too.” Simon lets out a small sigh, looking down at the graves of his family, all buried next to each other. He shakes his head softly, his free hand quickly wiping off his tears before he goes back to holding his daughter, rocking her with care.

“I'll come back with her next time, jus' wanted to talk to you today. Let you meet this lovely girl.” Big brown eyes meet his gaze, instantly cheering him up despite everything. He pinches his cheek softly only for the little girl to smack his hand away with a giggle, only making his smile grow wider at how hot-heated she is. Just like her mother.

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, it was a big piece of work, hah

I took a break from RW and decided to draw something nostalgic

Actually I've been stuck with this idea for two years now and I'm glad I finally found the strength to do something about it. Thanks for inspiration from one good man)

Long story short

In this AU autobots and deceptions are two unions of different tribes: mudwings, seawings and sandwings for the firsts and icewings, nightwings, rainwings and Pantala tribes for seconds. Skywings doesn’t exist anymore (because we need someone who takes place of predacons).

People are just people or scavenger if you prefer. And instead of whole cosmos it’s just two mainlands.

- Optimus Prime - I kinda like tfp Optimus. So formidable, powerful and mysterious but really gentle at the same time. And mud/sea combo works here in the best way. As the representation of two main tribes union and strong father/brother figure for team members.

I also think he might be an animus (but don’t use his magic often, especially for killing someone)

- Ultra Magnus - Pure Icewing already will be great for him, but I gave him part of seawing so he could be more like an Optimus. But instead of being softer and warmer, Magnus is more cold and pragmatic version of him. A character who sees other dragons not as close allies and friends but as ordinary soldiers.

- Ratchet - Yeah, the seawing would fit him better, but i just don’t know how to make the colors work here sooo… he’s a weak-fire mudwing. Like a skywing, but mudwing. Why not. Make sense with his lack of guns in origin. I think he’s design can be better, and maybe I’ll remake it.

I love his arc of recognizing people as equals and especially his interactions with Raphael. I think Ratchet often read him scrolls about history and magical artifacts.

- Bulkhead - No surprises here - mudwing fit him perfectly. I think that the Wreckers could been a big and strong mudwing troops, and Bulkhead was a bigwings in such a one. He is lost a lot of his siblings during the war, and therefore tries with all his might to protect the new members of his family. I absolutely adore his relationship with Miko and Jackie, so for me he’s one of the cutest character, and I tried to make his forms round and soft.

- Bumblebee - I know that majority draw him as a hivewing, but in that case the most logical for him will be a night/sandwing. Literally, autobots get their own Sunny)

I think in this version with his lack of a voice he could communicate using sign language or some variation of aquatic.

- Arcee - Also nothing special - she is a seawing. I originally wanted to give her a helmet but it was too hard to draw. Just like Sunny she was born pretty small and now even younger dragons can be bigger than her. I’m pretty sure she is old enough to have seen Bumblebee when he was a dragonet, so she's literally like an older sister to him.

Actually she really gives me a Queen Glory vibes with her sarcasm and dangerous beauty, so rainwing might fit her as well.

- Smokescreen - I used to think he was just a cringe, but now I realize he's a pretty interesting and realistic character. Like Ultra Magnus, I wanted to make him look like Optimus, only this time Smoke is more of a younger and much more irresponsible version of him. I think in this version (being part rainwing) he's trying to mimic Optimus's coloring using same red, blue and pale-gray shades.

- Wheeljack - The scruffy boy! I think in this version he could be Bulkhead's "adopted sibling", so they are really close to each other. And, because he spent most of his life with Bulkhead, it's harder for him to get close to other tribes and dragons.

Painting scales to keep canonical colors is kinda cheating, but for this dude it totally works. He should have a pretty bright appearance with all those scars and bright spots.

Cliffjumper - Ohoh… this poor guy. I didn't even think of putting him here, but I like his smug face too much. Even making his scales darker than the original, it's still too brightly colored for mudwing. He probably jokes about it a lot, saying that his ancestors were skywings.

I really like his dynamic with Arcee, and it's a shame we haven't seen much of their relationship. I think I need to do something cute about that.

[streets-in-paradise]

Matured Desire - Achilles x (Fem) Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Requested by Anon

" hiya! I have an Achilles request, what if they’ve both been sort of enemies for the longest time ever since they were kids, and at one point he gets fed up, and kisses her roughly ending up in the roughest kinkiest sex people could think of (tying up, choking, spanking, dirty talk, dom x sub, sort of a hate fuck.) please! "

Hi! I'm a bit nervous because this is my first time writing a full piece of smut, but I did my best and i hope you will enjoy it. The plot for the childhood rivalry is inspired in greek mythology, but adapted to how the story of the film plays out regarding characterzations.

Warnings: Rough hate fuck against a wall - hair pulling -chocking - spanking - lots of dirty talk.

Summary: Your eternal rivalry with Achilles gets you the attention of the mycenaean king In the context of his country wide search for a queen. Bringing up your troubled past together, the myrmidon believes you are seeking an union with Agamemnon to get the power to destroy his life.

As he confronts you about it, your tensions get to a critical point when the warrior concludes he will have to do something out of it. Your hatred remains too close to passion and he can only ruin you for any other man before you could ruin his lifetime's ambitions.

Tags: @thorsslxve

There was nothing Achilles despised more than the cheerfullness of Agamemnon. Not only because it usually meant bad news, but also due to how insufferable he tended to become on a good mood. His arrogance was high up to the sky contesting with his. Since the king felt in constant need to compete with his best warrior, it was important for him to brag on his every achievement.

On that particular moment, it was about the bride he would get for himself. After his brother married the most beautifull woman in the world he started to reconsider the lack of a queen in his palace and commanded every king of Greece to pick one of their unwed daughters so he could pick a wife among the princesses of the region. All the generals of his army were invited to witness the contest, and a handfull of kings he considered friends were there as well.

It was a power display to cause envy. A parade of the most ravishing girls of Greece after Helen circling the King in some sort of reverse parody of what happened when the spartan queen was still a maiden wanted by a multitude of suitors. The myrmidon found it hilarious, but that entertainment came with the price of standing the triumphal bliss of his rival.

In order to avoid an early scandall making fun of him, Achilles tried to distract himself watching the girls. They were all veiled for the future groom, only showing their faces when he commanded each one to introduce themselves. Beauty from all over the country was gathered there and while their faces remained covered he could still have a fun cassually checking their bodies.

He found a personal favorite quite soon. The light clothes of her fancy purple dress allowed him to perfectly picture her shape underneath, occupying his imagination in more pleasant thoughts. One by one her contestants did their thing, but he followed her with expectancy for the big reveal.

All traces of amusement abandoned the warrior's face when he recognized you. From all his many daughters, King Lycomedes had to pick you in representation of Scyros. It was unfortunately true for him that you had become a very desirable woman, so the choice was understandable, but you were one his enemies of longest date. Since he was a kid hidding in your father's court, and when you were teenagers you almost got him kicked out of there.

Everytime you crossed ways, disaster happened.

It was an unspoken theory, but he believed it all started because you were jealous of your sister. She was his first crush, and you told your father about it after you discovered them making out. Lycomedes would have kicked him out if Odysseus wouldn't have discovered his disguise in the first place, but your hatred didn't end with that.

Only a heartbroken girl would react so viscerally, the hate you hoarded for years didn't make sense otherwise. He believed you still despised him because you couldn't have him and once that childhood crush matured into desire things could only escalate. You would never forgive him for being your first love, but the passion of your hate showed your flame never got extinguished.

As soon as circunstancies allowed it, you were mesmerizing the mycenaean king with your disdain for his soldier.

" Achilles! Long time no seen. " You saluted him, with poisonous cordiality. " How are things going in your kingdom of savages? Well, only if that can be called a kingdom. Nowadays it's a military reserve of Mycenae you don't even rule as king. "

The myrmidon was visibly calm, calculating his strike before delivering it.

" How is Deidamia? I remember her with such strong affection."

" She is married. " You responded, with false propriety. " Happyly married, thanks to our protectiveness of her keeping scum away."

The wedding of his teenage crush didn't bother him at all, but he still manage to utilize it against you.

" I always knew she was going to make it before you. Look now where you ended: pleasing an old man that could be your father. "

You showed a tranquilzing smile to the king, mere witness of your altercate that was untill then very amused.

" Don't worry, your majesty. Achilles tends to act like this arround me because my presence reminds him of details that ruin the appeal of his legend. He wants no one to remember he spent his younger years hidding in my palace dressing on girl's clothes so your emisaries wouldn't find him. Have you seen the baby face of his little cousin? He has the same girly features he used to have back then."

Agamemnon was in awe with the slander. Even if it was just for that, you were becoming a strong favorite.

" Well, my dear. I hope you have some good stories for me. "

" She is the only person in the country who is more obsessed with me than you. " Achilles recalled, determined to ruin your plans. " She went as far as turning her father against me saying i was going to sleep with her sister. "

The way in which he twisted the facts to make it sound like a conspiracy against him got out the worst of you.

" I was the onlyone seeing past your charm, and time proved I was ríght now that we all know of your amatory adventures. " You fiercely defended yourself. " You were a reckless boy that had just discovered the thing hanging between his legs and was eager to try it on the first foolish girl available. Deidamia was too naive, but I knew better. By warning my father I protected her and saved our royal house from the shame of being stucked with a fatherless mess like the one you were when we received you. "

It crossed límits, but he wasn't afraid of returning the hatefull gesture.

" I think your boyfriend deserves to know where all that hate for me comes from before taking his choice. " He teased you ríght away. " You are my Phaedra … "

He had just compared you to the most sexually frustrated queen in greek history, whose vengefull spite was rooted on being ignored by the object of her desires.

" You insolent BASTARD!!! " You called him out before you could loose your temper and try to smack him. " Better start praying I won't be crowned queen. "

The warning left a bad taste in his mouth that was stronger than the altercate. Imagining you as Agamemnon's bride was a nightmare on itself because of the implications of a teaming up against him, but there was more that he couldn't simply admit.

He hated you, but couldn't stand the thought of seeing you with him. He still attempted to understand why you were so Interested on giving yourself to that pig of a king. Could your thirst for vengeance have gone that far? Where you capable of tolerating Agamemnon as your husband just so you could get some control over him? It was most likely that you had no idea of where you were stepping in, since your island once sheltered him safely because they didn't have much contact with the mycenaeans.

Figuring out what you were all about was his most inmediate need but, for that, he needed to talk to you in private. All day he awaited untill the oportunity to get lost with you presented itself during a lousy banquet. Following you closely as you intended to leave, he catched you off guard in a hallway.

" You knew this was coming, now follow me. "

Your playfull smirk spoke for you before you did.

" What If I don't? "

He grabbed you harshly, keeping your wrist still.

" We will do it the hard way. "

There was no choice, so you let him guide you through the foreign palace searching for the nearest room he could lock you in. Achilles secured the door behind him, knowing from then you were going to be completely alone.

" After comparing me to the thirsty wife of Theseus, you drag me away like this? " You mocked him ríght away. " Have you no shame? "

The tension was escalating slowly, but consistently.

" I have no time for your games, so you better tell me what I want to know. "

You chuckled lightly, enjoying yourself in this curiosity.

" Go ahead, i'm feeling generous. "

He groaned out of angered frustration, clearly fed up with you already.

" What do you want from Agamemnon? Do you expect me to believe you really are excited to the chance of being his wife? "

You response was calm and you were aware that would provoke him.

" He is the wealthiest, most powerfull man in Greece, and he hates you … Two qualities I find irresistible. "

He pushed you against a wall, barely able to control his rage to continue the interrogation.

" Do you think i'm a fool? You can't possibly wish for anything but the power to destroy me through that marriage. "

His strong hand grabbed your neck and squeezed, cutting off your air with ease. Achilles wanted to force a truth out of you, but couldn't help noticing you were peraphs too on board with that before releasing you so you could speak.

" I want an empty palace where i can sit on a throne. " You began to explain once you catched your breath. " While he will be away with you doing his wars, i can do what I want here. "

It wasn't enough for him.

" … And when he will want to touch you? Are you going to spread your legs for him like a good little wife ? "

His hand was once more arround your neck, quietly threatening with more choking depending of your answer.

" Are you trying to scare me? That's not going to work with me. " You mischievously warned him. " I'll do what it takes, my duty of queen. Agamemnon can have me, I will even fake my moans if i have to just to keep him satisfied. I'm fine with that, he has to get something out of the deal. I will take care of his throne and meet his sexual needs "

The answer awakened something primal on him.

" Not if I ruin you first … "

Sick of pretending to ignore the frustrating tension, he pulled you in for a rough kiss and you responded taking one of your hands to the back of his neck to pull his hair.

There was no way out for you from then.

Achilles ripped off the safety pins of your dress so it would fall on the floor. Once you were naked against him he began to tease you again.

" Look at how easily I destroyed your pride … Yet you dare to deny you are a needy whore. "

You didn't stay behind, iniciating another passionately hatefull kiss while your hands worked in undressing him. The godly shaped hero allowed you to roam his perfectly sculped body and you sank your nails in his hips before replying.

" You are only good at killing or fucking and you loathe me enough for either, so unless you want to spear me … "

The recklessness was paid at high cost when he turned you over so you will be facing the wall, head posicioned firmly to the side.

" I'm going to make you feel as if I was killing you. " He whispered against your ear in a husky tone. " But first, you will learn to respect me. "

You flinched with anticipation, incapable of predicting what he would do. Then, his hand started following the trace of your back all the way down and stopped in the curve of your ass.

A soft squeeze was followed by a hard spank that sounded as strongly as it felt. It send a wave of confusing, pain-stained pleasure all the way to your core, but you tried to keep still. He persisted, untill it became so intense that your knees were failing and you were about to cry.

" Who are you going to spread your legs for now? " He asked in a mock. " Are you going to be my obedient little whore? "

You lost the few shame you had left with one more slap on the mistreated surface of your asscheck.

" YES, YES! " You practically cried out. " I'll be, … I'll be your whore. I want it so badly, please! "

Achilles released a dark chuckle.

" Let's see how bad you really want it. "

He had barely reached the surface of your soaked cunt with his fingertips and you were already buckling your hips in desperation to find friction.

" Dripping wet, you nasty whore. " He commented and removed the hand to watch you fall apart. " Stop whimpering, i'm not going to keep touching you. Caresses are not what you deserve."

Suddenly, you felt the tip of his hard cock teasing your folds. Arrousal had reduced you to a pathetic mess and he got to hear you sobbing from that contact.

" No mercy, I will be rammering you. " He warned you. " … and you are going to take it. "

With that, he pushed himself inside you. Absolutely careless for your needed time adjusting to his size, he began his mercieless thrusting using you for his pleasure. The animalistic grunts he was making and the exquisite painfull pleasure of being fucked like that were soon going to become to much for you.

Achilles had completed his vengeance to control you before you could control him: you were ruined for any other man.

[moonsceptre]

Alchemy & Dreams in Beetlejuice

Part 2

The more I reflect on the plot of Beetlejuice 2, the more I doubt that much of what happens in the film actually took place.

It's all written allegorically. Tim's work has always embodied Jungian themes such as archetypes and the shadow self, as well as his use of alchemy & numerology in the original Beetlejuice movie. For example, his use of the planet Saturn and its symbolism, as well as how he relates it back to Beetlejuice by having him wear several watches on his wrist, and freezing Adam & Wolf in time. "Sands of Time", "Saturn: the Father of Time".

You know how everyone who appears in your dreams is supposed to represent yourself?

Astrid = Lydia

"The images of alchemy are the most complete expression of individuation as a process, and they are therefore a valuable aid to understanding the symbolism of dreams." - Carl Jung

Astrid wears a silver dress, Lydia wears a red dress. In alchemy, (something Jung believed was a method to understand the psyche within our dreams) silver needs to be purified by red. Combined, these colours symbolise the union of spirit and matter, or the balance of opposing forces, essential for the completion of the alchemical process. So we have Astrid and Lydia symbolising the spiritual (silver/mercury) and the material (red/sulfur). This is why Lydia watches Astrid at the end of the dream getting married and having a baby. She is watching her dream representation living out her material desires.

They completed the alchemical process by fixing their relationship (forgiving yourself).

Astrid is so similar to Lydia, even storming off on her bike when Rory proposed. Rory also pushes Lydia to do the Ghost House show when we know that exploiting the dead is very OOC for her. If Astrid is Lydia, then Rory must represent her teenage feelings towards her parents. Her father married Delia who teen Lydia couldn't stand, and they both forced Lydia to move with them and adjust to their lifestyle.

Astrid and Lydia reconciling is Lydia reconciling with her past self. Through silver and red, spirit and matter, this is the completion of the alchemical process. Why did they put Delia in a purple dress alongside these two, when purple in alchemy symbolises the transmutation outcome? They could have chosen any colours, but the ones chosen just so happen to correspond with the story. Silver is spirit, Red is matter, Purple is the merging of spirit & matter, resulting in "enlightenment". You say Beetlejuice's name three times because in alchemy it's the number of completion (sulfur, mercury, salt).

And I must repeat myself: there is no clear indication of where Astrid's dream sequence begins. The sequence at the end seems to start after Lydia looks at the Maitlands' model with the lights as stars above her. Lydia is looking down at the town (the material realm), while her head is in the stars (the spiritual realm).

The whole Beetlejuice franchise is about alchemy, because Betelgeuse himself is an alchemist. He is the Trickster/Magician archetype, who is able to manipulate reality and able to traverse between the living and the dead, also known as rebirth.

Betelgeuse = Lydia's Masculine Self

Alchemical texts were concerned with achieving the coniunctio oppositorum (the union of opposites). This process is also known as "The Marriage of Opposites" or "Chemical Wedding". Whose marriage/wedding was important to the plot in both movies?

Delia finds her masculine self (Charles) thanks to Betelgeuse at the Soul Train. The Soul Train is the ferry which carries souls along the River Styx. It's the main river in the underworld that separates the living and the dead.

"The living and the dead; can they co-exist?" - Lydia Deetz

So, Lydia was watching Astrid (her dream self) get married and have the Beetlebaby. Everything Astrid goes through is a mixture of Lydia's fears and desires. Lydia's teen self feared that Betelgeuse was using Lydia as a way to have access to the living realm, and we know this because of Astrid's experience with Jeremy. However, by this logic, it also means Lydia desires marriage and a baby with Betelgeuse. Unfortunately, Lydia is in the material realm, while her masculine self is in the spiritual realm.

Canonically speaking, since we know Lydia loves horror films, dreaming of giallo movies aligns much better with her character than ignoring her ability to speak to the dead.

[ukrfeminism]

Music colleges and conservatoires are deterring women and girls from playing “masculine instruments” such as drums and trumpets, a parliamentary report laying bare sexism in the music industry has revealed.

Female students are “cat-called in rehearsals”, held to a higher standard with “masculine” instruments and being told they cannot play properly if “they didn’t sit with their legs open”, the report states.

The Misogyny in Music report by parliament’s women and equalities committee found female musicians faced “endemic” discrimination in the industry which they described as a “boys’ club where sexual harassment and abuse is common”.

A series of female musicians and DJs including Annie Macmanus, Rebecca Ferguson and Katie Waissel gave evidence to the committee about discrimination and abuse they had witnessed or experienced.

Waissel, the former X Factor contestant, told the inquiry how “at the age of 16, she was grabbed by a much older man and placed on his lap in the recording studio while they were reviewing the track she was recording”.

The report found that many female performers who had been the victims of “discrimination, harassment and abuse” continued to be silenced through the widespread use of non-disclosure agreements (NDAs).

It said: “Women in the music industry have had their lives ruined and their careers destroyed by men who have never faced the consequences for their actions. 

“People in the industry who attend award shows and parties currently do so sitting alongside sexual abusers who remain protected by the system and by colleagues.”

The report went on: “Much of the evidence we received has had to remain confidential, including commentary on television shows and household names.

“That is highly regrettable but demonstrates the extent of the use of NDAs and the culture of silence.”

The report outlined gender disparities throughout the industry. For example, less than 5 per cent of the producers or engineers on the top streamed tracks in 14 genres were female or non-binary, while of all the songwriters and composers who received a royalty in 2020, only one in six were female.

It also pointed out that the record label departments charged with finding new talent were dominated by men, concluding: “Women have significant additional barriers to pass to get a foothold in the music industry and must navigate acts of passive aggression, ridicule and misogyny to have a sustainable career. 

“Female artists are routinely undervalued and undermined, endure a focus on their physical appearance in a way that men are not subjected to, and have to work far harder to get the recognition their ability merits. Despite increases in representation, discrimination and misogyny remain endemic.”

The committee also called for music colleges, conservatoires and other educational establishment “to do more to address the gendering of instruments, roles and genres.”

Its members heard that “in many cases women are discouraged from playing certain instruments at all’, with one witness saying: “There is this idea that if you’re a girl you can’t play the drums, or if you’re a girl you can’t play the trumpet really loudly because it will make you look ugly.”

The report said that the Musicians’ Union had described female students being “cat-called in rehearsals”, “made to feel uncomfortable by male lecturers” and being told “they couldn’t play their instrument properly if they didn’t sit with their legs open in orchestra rehearsals”.

Caroline Nokes, the Conservative MP who chairs the committee, said “endemic misogyny … has persisted for far too long within the music industry.”

She added: “A shift in the behaviour of men — and it is almost always men — at the heart of the music industry is the transformative change needed for talented women to quite literally have their voices heard and be both recognised and rewarded on equal terms.”

[grimm-writings]

HIIII i LOVE your blog!! could i request a bard reader performing a song in front of the party, and it slowly dawns upon chilchuck that the song is about loving him? 🥺

a way with words

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, reader is a bit of a poetic shit <3, reader plays a string instrument (envisioned a lute or mandolin but i don’t specify!)

…wc! 1092

…notes! OH MY GODDDD this is so cute. what the hell. we need more bard representation in this got damn dungeon. (i know thistle could technically be one but one in a party i beg)

To me, some parties employ a bard if they plan on going on ‘legendary’ outings into dungeons.

Somebody needs to be there to document their exploits through the written word – how else are legends made?!

You probably stumbled on the party with the intent to write a song of legend.  Eating the dragon that ate one of you sounds pretty legendary after all, right?

Safe to say if you’re not exactly humble about your profession you get on the nerves of a certain union man.

Even if your reason for joining the party was… less than virtuous, you did bring a certain joy to the party that they all appreciate.

If journeying is getting tiring, all you need to do is pluck a few strings of your instrument and hum a travelling song.

Sometimes you’d make a little ‘game’ out of it.  You know using the drunken sailor melody to make your own songs?  Well…

“What shall we do with a big red dragon, earl-ye in the morning!”  Your voice rings out, bouncing off the walls of the dungeon around you.  You eye the party around you before your gaze lands on the half-foot seeming disinterested in your performance. Well, that simply won’t do! You lunge, dragging him back by the shoulders, eyeing him expectantly.  He only gives you a wide-eyed look of surprise for a second before realising everyone is watching.  He’d hate to interrupt the song, so… “Tie it down and eat it for dinner?” he suggests, only guessing the rhythm vaguely.  To his surprise, you seem to really like it.  You laugh and pick up the music once more to sing his lyric once again. He has to admit, at least you’re having fun.  He doesn’t realise until you reach a stop that he’s been singing along at the end.

I imagine half-foots have a cultural appreciation for music.  It’s a big scene!  They have drinking songs, travelling songs, work songs…  I wouldn’t be surprised if most bards are half-foots!

And Chilchuck is no exception.  Have you seen his little jig?  Of course he likes music!

He has great hearing so he’ll also pick up on little accents in your music and singing others wouldn’t really get.

If you’re performing a campfire song, Chilchuck will likely join in (especially if he had a bit of drink).

It’s nice.  He seemed to be relaxing around you, and you seem to be becoming more of a friend to the party rather than a glorified biographer.

You have to admit that the half-foot has been growing you a considerable amount.  What a complex individual.  So much to read into and inspire… 

It would be one night when you’re on night watch that Chilchuck’s sensitive ears end up waking him up. ..

The half-foot was going to hiss and complain about you being too loud at this time in the night, when he realises you’re playing a melody and mumbling words to yourself. …Huh.  Are you writing a song?  Chilchuck tries to remain still with his eyes closed and listens closely.  It’s handy having such keen senses sometimes. He could only pick up a few words; brown, warmth… something about a kind soul? Chilchuck figures you might be setting up for the party’s “legendary” song.  Maybe you’re focusing on Falin.  Her hair is a very pale brown, and she’s a kind soul if a bit of a people pleaser. He rests easy, listening to your gentle plucking of your strings.  It’s a different melody from usual… he likes your softer side he can identify through your music.

He never tells you he listened to your little jam sesh.  If you knew he’s using your music as a way to fall asleep easier…  He can see your smug smile now, and it makes him endlessly frustrated (or flustered rather).

Chilchuck’s feelings are something he never really… knew.  They just sort of existed, and he let them.  It’s not like anything will happen.

Sure, he gets more red in the face around you… and MAYBE he gets a softer look in his eyes as he looks at you… and perhaps he thinks your singing voice is one of the prettiest sounds he has ever heard…

So what?

It’s a colder night when you take out your instrument and announce you finished writing a song.  It took you a long time to complete it, you admit, but you put a lot of heart into it.

A unique starter, the party might think.  Usually you write for fun.  Specifying putting heart into your music is something that rings an alarm in their heads.

You start playing a melody.  It’s a type of sombre, deep sound.  It resonates a less folksy mood and something more… personal. With eyes closed, you don’t notice Chilchuck perking up in familiarity.  That’s the tune he heard you playing weeks ago.  You only just refined it?  At least he can actually hear what the words are. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you sing about a character that has a kind soul, with deep brown eyes.  His warmth is something that you find yourself wanting to bathe in once a journey ends.  Chilchuck listens with a small smile. It’s only when you start mentioning things like silver strands of hair you wish to weave through your fingers, things start to fall into place.  Wringing his hands too often for a well-prepared man is a lyric that is too specific to merely be about some fictional character. He doesn’t say anything even as he joins in the applause at your finished peace, pretending the heat in his cheeks is from the frosty temperature.

That night, he catches you alone refilling your waterskin.  The atmosphere is thick with a kind of calmness.

Where Chilchuck is usually so stubborn, he finds the words escaping his lips in a soft voice.

“Are you in love with me?”  You don’t respond instantly.  He expected as such.  He follows your form with his eyes as you widen your eyes and glance away with a small laugh. “Wow.  Wasn’t as subtle as I thought,” you dryly tack onto your chuckle. He laughs along, approaching you.  He doesn’t do anything drastic, instead offering his own to you. “It’s okay,” he tells you, surprised at his own lack of embarrassment despite the situation.  “The fact you notice all that about me is… flattering.  You really have a way with words.” You return the grin he gives you and take his hand, squeezing it. “How could I not notice, when you are my intimate muse?”

[linberlyy]

Let's be honest: Criston's offense’s more than justified and well-reasoned. Another question is how much this very offense is, but everyone will judge this through their own internal compass. Let me explain Cole’s motivation and worldview, maybe I'll open someone's eyes.

Let’s simulate the situation: we have a son from a humble family (so low that his position was low even for an engagement), who, with sweat, blood, his skills and efforts, carved out a place for himself in the Kingsguard, taking into account that, thanks to the goodwill of a representative of the royal family, - who has a golden spoon in her mouth, we remember, was able to get a healthy assessment of her capabilities and skills without watered calculations.

- “I know what it’s like to fight for something that others don’t value.”

He owes his new position precisely to the favor of the princess, and we have no reason to refute Criston’s conscience, because BEFORE any traumatic and drastic changes/events, he manifests himself as a conscientious and devoted knight, with a clear worldview.

They spend a lot of time together, and already at Aegon’s name day we see that the level of trust between Rhaenyra and Criston is high, moreover, it is rapidly gaining momentum when she opens some part of her soul, shares things that can be called “personal”, laments his situation and outlines the problems he faces. Most notable:

— “My father is trying to sell me to Jason Lannister. I was named heir to the throne only to improve the position of Lord Casterly Rock.

— Should I kill him?”

This is literally a joke about killing the LORD that Criston makes in the presence of the princess, and it is remarkable that they both laugh without taking it seriously.

— “You can choose your own path, you are lucky. Many would gladly change places with you.

— “I am the princess of Dragonstone, but I am toothless.”

— “Once, not so long ago, you were able to write my name in the White Book. A position in the Kingsguard is the highest honor for the Cole family. I owe you everything. And I wouldn’t call it toothless.”

He provides her with sincere support, without greedy or hypocritical intent, and she accepts it with open arms.

The development of their relationship, on the initiative of the princess, follows immediately when, after some time, abandoned by Daemon (I condemn) in a brothel, she persuades Criston to have sex. Rhaenyra lures him into the room, plays with the helmet, kisses him, not allowing him to leave, and then tries to free the knight from his armor. Yes, Criston could more than experience romantic feelings towards his princess, but above all, it was a kind of admiration, sincere gratitude for what bestowed her favor on the rootless commoner. His representation of Rhaenyra may seem banal and naive, namely as “a poor princess, enslaved by her position,” we will note this in the future. But based on his pure motives, he faces a choice in which his feelings equally suffer, his vows and, of course, the wishes of his object of desire, in relation to whom Criston has never crossed the line before, are called into question. Many may underestimate the pressure that arises between the statuses and titles of total opposites, and only in the example of “maid - prince” do some realize the problematic nature of such a union, but not “princess - knight”. Please note: despite gender, it is still a class difference that breeds power with abuse. And, unfortunately, Cole cannot know and be sure that Rhaenyra’s need to get sex here and now has nothing to do with her love for him. He hesitantly follows the princess's lead, putting aside his white cloak.

Next we see and hear that Criston is ashamed of himself for violating his honor, neglecting his duty, although he listened to his heart, to his duty to Rhaenyra.

— “You occasionally confided in me... Over the years of acquaintance. And it seems to me that I know you. A little.

— “More than a little.”

Another imaginary confirmation in Christon’s eyes of reciprocity.

— “You have said many times how you despise your position. That you will be married off at the whim of your father, without thinking about the inclination of your heart. And this day has come."

He imbues her with the problem mentioned in the past; driven not only by his dilemma, but also by Rhaenyra's “confinement,” a literal shackle that equally binds and constrains them both.

— “I ask you to come with me. Away from all this, from the humiliations and burdens of your heritage. Let's leave all this and look at the world together. We will be free, nameless. We are free to go wherever we want, to love whoever we want. Will you marry me? Not for the crown. For love.

— “I’m the Crown, Ser Criston. Or I will be her. I can complain about my debt, but would I choose infamy in exchange for a barrel of oranges, or a ship to Asshai? It is my duty to marry a noble of a great house. But my marriage is not the end all be all. Ser Criston, Laenor and I have come to an understanding. I gave him the right to do what he wants. He granted me the same”.

— “Do you want to make me a whore?”

— “I want what started to continue.” You are my protector. My white knight”.

— “I made a vow, a vow of chastity. I have nothing but my white cloak, and I have stained it! I thought the wedding would cleanse him.”

Literally, Criston pours out not only his soul to Rhaenyra, but also to us, as viewers. He dictates the reality of his situation, assures that he can provide and protect the princess as much as possible. But, of course, for the blood of the dragon, for the heiress, for the father’s daughter, who was previously brought up in the conditions of “do you want it? Get it!” such a prospect is worthless. Naive of Cole? Yes, but not without reason.

After everything, he feels extremely vulnerable, as well as after a sincere confession to the Queen - which responds even more precariously and nervously to any conscience and confidence, despite her gratitude. Already at the wedding of Rhaenyra and Laenor, Cole, like a taut string, stands at the service, but restlessly and nervously looks at the princess.

— “I’m on duty, what’s your business?”

— “You don’t know me, Ser Criston, but this alliance is very important to both of us.”

— “If you have something to say, Ser Joffrey, speak.”

— “Ser Laenor is as dear to me as I know the princess is to you. We must swear to keep them and their secrets. We’re not in any danger yet... They are safe.”

Sounds like a threat to a pins and needles knight with a stained cloak and a sense of duty, don’t you think? Criston can only guess how Joffrey knows about his affair with the princess, and only one of the options may look convincing - Rhaenyra telling Laenor about this, who could notify his lover along the chain. Again, every possible inclination towards princess on his part is undermined when their secret is at stake. Yes, Criston succumbs to anger and panic, resentment and hopelessness, for which he commits a much more terrible act than calling a woman names. But even so, Cole feels guilt, boundless disappointment, and at the lynching he also feels remorse. He plans to voluntarily commit suicide and admits his every mistake. This scene is literally the rebirth of a knight in the rays of Alicent’s understanding and favor.

And as a result: people complain countless times and blame Criston for swearing towards Rhaenyra, for which he apologizes. Cool. Let's think critically and delve into the story and characters, and not spit hypocrisy.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Would you consider doing a smutty see no evil part 2. Or really just anything with these too. I’m loving the representation with the deaf reader.

Thank you so much! It would be my pleasure 💗

See No Evil, Hear No Evil {2}

Aemond Targaryen x deaf!fem!reader

Summary: It is your wedding night and a night of many firsts. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, first time sex, oral, smut, fluff WC: 3k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

Imperceptible tremors shook your body as your maids left your chambers and you had the first moment to yourself all day. The dress was unlike any other you wore and you knew you would never wear one like it again, you had no intention of ever wedding another. The seamstress had outdone herself as you traced the flowers that were embroidered into the bodice at your request, violets and hyacinths for the colour of Aemond’s eye.

The polished silver mirror seemed to hold another person entirely as you stared at the reflection. She was the elegant lady you had watched enviously in grandiose gowns of vibrant colours, she was the confident courtier that men fought over, she was everything you had dreamed of as a child. You were beautiful. 

Your happiness radiated from the smile that had not left your face since Aemond had proposed this marriage and Alicent had welcomed you into her family with a warm hug. Nothing could dim your smile, especially when your union would be complete at sundown in the Sept. You wished the sun would hurry its path across the sky so you could see your husband-to-be but your mother always said, good things come to those who wait.

If only your mother and father were able to make it to your wedding, but the treacherous road had been plagued by bandits and unfortunately, to the Lords at least, daughters were not worth the risk of travel. 

The door opened slowly and you broke away from your reflection to see Alicent peek around the corner before her hands flew to her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes and you could see her jaw moving but you couldn’t see her lips. You pointed to your eye then your lips before shaking your head and she dropped her hands sheepishly as she realised you couldn’t see what she was saying.

“You look absolutely lovely, my dear,” she said as she clasped her hands over her heart. “There is no other better suited together than you and my Aemond. He has been a better man since he met you, a happier one too.” 

She took your hands and smiled as she noticed the floral embroidery. “You compliment each other so well.”

Your smile widened as you laughed and her lips parted as a blush turned her cheeks pink. “I, I didn’t mean like that.”

You reached for a sheet of parchment that rested on the table and held it out to her, the vows you would be making in mere hours. 

I shall be your eyes, and you shall be my ears. Together, we are complete.

“Oh, look what you’ve done,” she said as the tears that had been brewing began to slip over her lashes and down her heated cheeks. Placing the page back where it was, she produced a prepared handkerchief from her dress and wiped away the tears before taking a seat on the settee and patted the space next to her. “I already think of you like a daughter so if you ever need any advice, know you can always come to me.

“My mother wasn’t there on my wedding day either and it’s an ache I remember well. I wish she could have been there to tell me what I was to expect, the duties of a wife.”

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion and she took your hand. “Did your mother explain the act of consummation?”

Your mother probably worried that you would be a spinster so she had not bothered with the conversation but you had spied some stories from the servants and knew the basics. Shaking your head, Alicent nodded knowingly to herself and placed her hands on her lap. 

“Well, no matter, we have time. Losing one’s maidenhead can be painful but after the first few times it gets easier.”

Your lips parted with a slow breath and your stomach felt like it tumbled deeper into your body. When the servants had spoken of their experiences most had a smile on their face and regaled the pleasures they found in the act. They had even detailed a studious link between the size of the manhood to the fun that could be had. The only ones who had mentioned pain had received the unwanted touch of a man and a bolt of fear ran down your spine.

“I’ve scared you,” Alicent said as she recoiled back. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to frighten you, I just don’t want you to find out as I did - and the shock that came with it.”

You squeezed her hand reassuringly and her shoulders sagged with relief but relief was not what you felt inside as you stared out the window and saw the sun creep towards the horizon. Something cold touched your wrist and your eyes darted back to the Queen as she offered you a silver bracelet. 

“Aemond asked me to give you this,” she said as she clasped it around your wrist and you held it up to see the small sapphires that caught the light. You had never received such a special gift before and you felt the fear of the unknown slip away with the tear that ran down your cheek. “Oh, no, no more tears today.”

Alicent wiped the teardrop away, careful not to smudge the makeup that enhanced your natural features. Her gentleness warmed you and when she stood to make her way to the Sept you pulled her into a hug that showed your appreciation. 

“Shall we?” she asked as she offered her elbow and you looked at the sun that still hadn’t completely set. “If I know my Aemond, he will already be there.”

The Queen knew her son well as you arrived at the Sept earlier than scheduled and found Aemond shifting nervously with his back to you. He had not been this nervous when he was facing down knights in the tourney but the tension in him released the moment he turned and saw you waiting. 

Alicent took your hand that rested on her forearm and placed it into Aemond’s larger hand, warmth enveloping it as he laced your fingers together. 

“You look beautiful, my love,” he said with a stunned smile as he stepped back as far as he could without releasing your hand and looked over you from head to toe. “The most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms.”

You took a step closer and lifted your hand to cradle his cheek as your thumb caressed his scar that he had not hidden, not on a day like today. He wanted you to see all of him, accept all of him, as you were wed. 

Vibrations beat along the wooden floors of the Sept and you looked around to find the High Septon had arrived and butted his staff to the floor for attention. The few guests that had been invited to witness the ceremony turned to face the High Septon and you cast your eyes over them knowing they were your new family. 

Helaena smiled warmly as she caught you looking and Maelor waved a chubby hand from where he bounced on her hip. You smiled back and waved to the little boy before following Aemond’s lead, standing face to face with not an ounce of doubt in your heart that this was where you were meant to be.

You had not wished for a grand feast that was common after a highborn wedding and Aemond had been more than happy to celebrate more intimately with a family dinner. King Viseyrs had stayed as long as he was able to but the illness that plagued him forced him to retire early. It had not stopped him from giving a heartfelt speech that Aemond repeated for you since the mask hid half of the King’s face.

You were well and truly a member of the Targaryen family, something that only six months earlier would have terrified you. 

“A toast to my lady wife,” Aemond said, rising to his feet and lifting his goblet as he looked around the table. “I thought the only thing I was missing was an eye, until I met you.”

Alicent wiped her eyes with a laugh and raised her goblet before everyone else followed suit. You sipped your wine and wondered if the sudden warmth in your belly was from the potation or the love when you looked at your husband. Your stare lingered on him over the rim of the silver chalice and the bodice of the gown was too tight to breathe as he returned the longing look.

“Ready to retire, my love?” he asked as his eye focused on the way you bit your lip in anticipation and you nodded eagerly, accepting his hand as he pulled your chair out. 

Aegon grinned at Aemond as he bid his family a good night but you pointedly ignored how he mouthed ‘have fun’ to his little brother before you were turned away to face the door. The corridors had never felt so long as you headed towards the wing that the royals occupied, where your new rooms would be from this night forth. 

“Would you like a drink?” Aemond asked as he closed the heavy wooden door to his quarters. 

You shrugged unsure as you looked around the room that you had not been permitted to enter before your union. Books were stacked on every available surface while weapons hung from hooks along the walls and a comfortable looking settee faced the smouldering fire. Everywhere you looked you saw an extension of Aemond and his scent hung in the air, welcoming you home. 

Strong arms curled around your waist and Aemond rested his chin on your shoulder as he kissed your neck sweetly before turning you to face him. “My mother said she spoke to you and I want you to know that I have no expectations for how this night will go.”

Your eyebrows pinched together and a pang of hurt sent you a step backwards before he caught you. “What I mean is, there is no rush, I want you to be comfortable and ready for when we take that step.”

You didn’t think you could possibly love him anymore than you already did but he continued to surprise you, and you surprised him as you threw your arms around his neck and crushed your lips to his. His hands caught your waist and pulled you flush against him as he deepened the kiss and you melted in his embrace. 

Your courage renewed, you took his hand and walked further into his chambers, towards the four post bed. You could see the question in his eye and you nodded with a shy smile as you looked up from under your lashes. You dropped his hand so you could sign the honest truth to him, I trust you.

With such sweet tenderness he claimed your neck with his lips while his fingers unlaced the gown, letting it fall from your shoulders to pool at your feet. The thin silk shift left little to the imagination and his eye widened as you were revealed like a precious gift to him. 

“My beautiful wife,” Aemond said with a proud smile that sent your heart hammering wildly. “I want to feel your hands on me.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the clasps that kept his tunic fitted tight across his body, you didn’t want to mess up but from the flutter of his eye you knew he was enjoying the feel of each restricting fastener opening. Pale flesh was stark against the black leather that you pushed over his shoulders and his chest vibrated with a satisfied hum as you placed your palm over his heart. 

“You will be the death of me.”

Your lips curled with a shake of your head and you let your finger trail along the natural dips of his muscles and through the soft blonde curls that began at his navel. 

“Perhaps I am already dead, for nothing should feel this glorious.”

His words were liquid fire across your skin and a throb between your legs pulsed in time to your heartbeat. Needing to feel his hands on more of you, you curled your thumbs into the thin straps at your shoulders and pushed them off, letting the shift float to the floor. 

Cool air kissed your skin as you fought the urge to curl your arms over yourself but there would be no hiding tonight. Aemond’s chest expanded rapidly as he bit his lip at the sight and your back arched into his touch when he grazed his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. 

Your lips parted in delight and he froze.

“Oh gods, how sweet you sound,” he said before dipping his head to your breasts that grew more sensitive with each passing moment. Your head tipped back as you buried your fingers in his hair and the throb between your legs turned to an ache.

Aemond’s tongue teased your nipples until you saw stars and you hadn’t realised he had been guiding you back until your legs hit the bed. He pulled away with a salacious suck that had your jaw dropping and he grinned as he gently laid you down on his mattress.

“I could listen to you moan for eternity and it still would not be long enough.”

Your fingers curled into the blankets beside you as he settled on his knees between your legs that subconsciously tried to close under the intensity of his heated stare.

“Is this alright?” he asked as his thumbs drew small circles along your inner thigh.

You took a deep breath and let yourself relax before nodding. His touch teased higher and you could barely breathe when his thumbs parted your folds and he dipped his head for a wicked kiss. The air rushed out of you as the heat of his tongue lashed through your slit and your knees closed around his shoulders with the pleasure that erupted.

You pushed up on your elbows to see what he was doing to you and found him staring back, his sapphire eye reflecting the candlelight while his violet eye had a fire of its own. You could not look away as you watched his cheeks hollow and felt his lips seal over the spot that ached with need.

You collapsed to the bed as he sucked your swollen nub to the point of delirium and then his finger was there, pressing at your entrance and stretching you as he had started with his tongue. The coil in your belly only grew tighter as he added another finger and you could only imagine how good it would feel to be filled with his manhood. The thought alone triggered the blissful release the servants spoke of and your hips rocked shamelessly against Aemond as wave after wave crested.

Your husband placed a soft kiss to your trembling thigh before he sat up and you remembered that he was still half dressed as he palmed the strained erection confined in his trousers. I want you, you signed, all of you.

He was already unlacing the cord that held his trousers snug to his hips as he said, “You already have me.”

Nervousness chased away the haze that release had brought as his length sprung free and you gulped at the size.

“I will be gentle,” he reassured you as he kicked his trousers off the bed and settled once more between your legs, only this time his cock hung warm and heavy across your thigh. “And I can stop if it’s too much, just tap my shoulder.”

You curled your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as you drew him closer to you, capturing his lips and conveying everything you couldn’t say. His cock teased at your entrance and he slowly rocked against you until the resistance ceased and a sharp burning sensation had your fingers clenching the strands of hair they were tangled in.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he pulled back and scanned your face.

The small shift when he pulled back drew a different kind of sensation and the way it felt as his cock dragged along your tight walls sent a shiver down your spine. You tightened your legs and kept him from withdrawing completely as you shook your head. He stared into your eyes a moment longer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind, before he slowly eased back in and your muscle began to relax. 

Aemond kept his promise to be gentle but soon enough the long slow strokes didn’t sate the need growing within you. Your nails danced down his spine and encouraged him to move faster as his kiss stole the very air from your lungs until your body burned for him. He was everywhere all at once, his arms around you, his cock in you. You would never get enough of him. 

Your back arched as heat spread across your body, radiating from your core that was tightening with each thrust until you were sure you would explode. Lost in the waves of ecstasy, you buried your face in Aemond’s neck and held him tight as his body shuddered and you felt his cock pulse with his release. 

A fine sheen of sweat coated your body as Aemond eased himself from you and collapsed to the mattress with a lazy smile gracing his face. You instantly missed the full feeling but he pulled you into his arms and pressed his lips to your forehead as you laid your head on his chest. He held his hand up since you couldn’t see his face and he curled his middle and ring finger down signing, I love you.

Aemond’s heart hammered beneath your head and the steady beat reverberated through you, lulling you into a sweet trance as you held your own hand up to his like a mirror. If only you could spend everyday forever entwined as you were at this moment, you both deserved the happiness that saturated the room.

Tilting your head back so you could see the love reflected in Aemond’s eye, you pressed your fingers to your chin. “You never have to thank me,” he replied. “You are my everything.”

Click here for part three.

[leikeliscomet]

Its funny how people talk about classism and working class rep in RTD1 but casually say they're happy Martha wasn't working class bc 'it would've been bad representation' in the same breath. Yh, there's a lot of damaging hood stereotypes out there but being working class whilst Black doesn't automatically make the character bad. We're not problematic just for existing. If anything, Martha being a working-class Black woman becoming a doctor would've been even more groundbreaking, especially bc the average Black Brit is working-class or below. Even Freema Agyeman herself grew up on a council estate. That could've been really inspirational. The idea that UK discrimination ignores race and only focuses on class is false especially if u look at how the Windrush were treated because they were working class AND Black/of colour (Tory party appealing to white working classes with anti-immigrant rhetoric, Sikh and Muslim workers making their own unions bc they were excluded, West Indians being denied rent etc.). RTD fans love to create a split where Rose's working class rep and Martha's Black rep exist in boxes that don't ever touch but they do. I've seen so many 'but Martha's middle class so I couldn't relate to her' which is funny bc apart from ignoring all the Black fans that couldn't relate to most characters in the show anyway, a lot of us still related to Rose. South and East London are have huge multiracial and multicultural working class communities. We deserve to be represented too. We exist. Working class isn't a synonym for white.

It just says a lot how much RTD and Rose are gassed for destigmatising working class characters but it would've been sooo bad if those characters were Black lol. 'Chav' and 'roadman' have become removed from their OG meanings and are now aesthetics and trends but the actual people living their lives are still living the stigma. You lot love 'chavs' as in cute y2k fits on a conventionally attractive white woman but lord forbid a hypothetical Black person that's unemployed, broke and speaking Black Brit Vernacular getting that doccy who screentime bc that's a bit too ghetto™ apparently. It also says u lot have limited imagination. Attack the Block and The Kitchen proved Black working-class characters can exist in sci-fi and if we're gonna go there... they're doing more for working-class rep rn than RTD1 almost 2 decades ago.

Martha could've walked around in a northface jacket with half a tub of eco styler on her head and she still would've been great idc!

[wilcze-kudly]

honestly.... kuvira has irl parallels w putin.

I mean yeah I've compared her to Stalin and WOW IT'S ALMOST LIKE RUSSIA HAS BEEN DOING THE SAME DAMN THING FOR DECADES. Like seriously it's starting to feel like fucking groundhog day man.

And look, I don't want to be the asshole who shames people for liking Kuvira. I like a lot of aspects of Kuvira's character.

She's hot, she's charismaric (mainly due to Zelda Williams but yk) and she's a relatively compelling character. People are allowed to enjoy a villain character without endorsing the shitty stuff those villains do.

But there is a distinction between Kuvira the character and what Kuvira represents/the thinly veiled real life ideologies behind her.

Kuvira as a character is interesting, you know? Fun to talk about. Someone who was abandoned at a young age and proceeded to self sabotage her relationships and became a control freak who fears vulnerability due to that. Pretty standard villain shit. But fun, and there's a little more to her.

Kuvira as a representant of real world ideologies carries much more weight. People catch onto her Nazi imagery, but the Soviet stuff isn't as obvious. A lot of western europeans and Americans, the main demographic of Avatar won't immediately clock those influences behind Kuvira.

To those countries, Soviet occupation of Eastern Bloc countries was just the cold war, the red scare, a looming threat that could cause harm, but was at least not capable of influencing their lives too intimately.

While the countries that were under the power of the Soviet Union still have that memory fresh in their minds. Hell, my mom grew up in the PRL, my uncle was a part of Solidarność. People remember that shit it wasn't that long ago. Reading literature from not that long ago like A Minor Apocalypse or Madame feels surreal. When I read memoirs or just heard stories from my older relatives, I could taste the atmosphere of bleakness, distrust and confusion.

So maybe I'm just more primed to notice how Kuvira's actions play into patterns of Russian aggression. Maybe when Western European and American viewers are more willing to give Kuvira the benefit of the doubt, or see merit in her actions, I'm more willing to look at her through the lenses of the ideologies she represents.

Throughout most of the show, we don't actually see that much of Kuvira as a character. She's more a silent, looming villain in the background and due to her more calculated demeanour, we don't get a lot of insight into her personality until the last two episodes. So maybe it's easier to look at her more as a representant of dangerous ideologies than as a character.

Mind you, I don't think Bryke really thought through the implications of giving Kuvira the aesthetic and ideology they did. Nazis and to a lesser extent, Soviets, have become very much shorthand for "bad guy" in fiction. If they had thought this through, I wanna at least hope that they would have handled Kuvira more carefully.

Because by giving Kuvira a sense of moral ambiguity and the clumsy handling of her character, you have dumbasses ob reddit defending her. I'm genuinely shocked at the amount of Kuvira apologism in the tlok fandom.

But that goes back to the Western Bloc viewers and creators not really being familiar with the history Kuvira embodies. Not fully imagining the perspective of for example the people under her rule. Which is a perspective I am desperate to see, filling out the blanks with the history Kuvira draws from.

Most of B4 is seen through that 'outside perspective' of Korra and Republic City. Not unlike how a huge part of the narrative around the cold war and Ussr is the Cold War and how it affected Western Bloc countries.

Once again, the only characters who are actually part of the Earth Kingdom and have some experience with Kuvira's occupation are the Beifongs. But they are dismissed as biased, irrational, agressive or pushed aside when our heroic USA inserts get the spotilight. The fandom despises Suyin, derides Zaofu for not being the perfect victims. A story we see more and more of nowadays.

Suyin is depicted as "white woman liberalism" depsite being a leader of a community based, anti monarchist city which seems to allow it's citizens to flourish as artists and scientists and also refusing to seize power over a vulnerable country to hand it over to a monarchy she didn't support and then wanting to kill a fascist? But "ooooh Zaofu is culty and Suyin is a bit of a hypocrite" so I guess she's worse then the fucking Hitler Stalin lovechild that threatened to lay seige to her peaceful city.

The Kuvira apologism in the fandom does sometimes give me similar vibes to Putin dickriding from Conservative americans tbh. At least that explains it.

The reason I'm so unsettled by so many people being blind to the ideologies and history Kuvira represents is because that ideology is not dead. It seems like a lot of westerners don't really seem to care about it anymore, but Russia is still commiting a genocide in Ukraine. Hell, it seems like people from countries that aren't close to the conflict kinda forgot that was still a thing. People are fucking dying, homes are being destroyed. And you think Russia will stop at decimating Ukraine? They're already hiring arsonists to cause chaos in Poland, they're not gonna stop.

These ideologies still cause pain and death today. They're not for cheap villains who can be watered down and excused by a sad backstory. And they're certainly not to he excused and supported by edgy fans who somehow didn't realise that the previous show was violently anti fascist.

Love Kuvira as a character, enjoy her, her storylines, her personality. But for the love of God, acknowledge what she represents, who she represents and that it's bad.

Whew that kinda... got a little heavy. I apologise for the rant, I'm just very frustrated. By how Kuvira is woobified and exhonorated hy both fanon and canon, and by current events in the Ukraine and Poland and the rest of the ex-second world countries and the seeming apathy of the rest of the wider world.

Quick note: The terminology in this post may not be fully up to date, since a lot of terms have went out of usage and lost their meaning.

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (December 3-9, 2023)

I made a frame from this shot Wikizilla's Image of the Week. No regrets. Monarch: Legacy of Monsters, I love ya. When I was a teenager, explicit queerness was anathema to most big-name franchises. Those dominoes have been slowly falling, often in lower-profile tie-ins first, and to me this is a huge one: 69 years without a queer live-action Godzilla character are over. And Cate's the main protagonist of the show! I'm not under the delusion that media representation will cure all society's ills, but it sure doesn't hurt. Now, the non-Tumblr parts of the fandom are being completely normal about this, right? Right? Whatever, that's why you'll never get rid of me here. Cate had a couple more sweet moments with May in this episode, and Mariko Tamaki wrote episode 7, so don't expect her to stop kissing girls. Hopefully she's learned a valuable lesson about cheating though.

"The Way Out" is also another gift to those of us who have always wanted to see more of the ramifications of a world where Godzilla exists, from underground towns for the super-rich to ruined cities where federal troops shoot looters and harass people experiencing homelessness. And the show continues to find ways to use kaiju to talk about COVID, from Cate and Kentaro's exchange about San Francisco truthers ("It's easier than waking up every day and thinking, at any moment, the same could happen to you") to the blink-of-an-eye speed at which the threat went from on the news to her front door in the flashbacks.

As I foretold, we got a Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire trailer, an amusing contrast to the weighty Toho flick and Apple show already fore of mind. It's Adam Wingard unbound, that's for sure. The human cast seems pared back, a longstanding Monsterverse problem, and the kaiju fights were far and away the best part of Godzilla vs. Kong, so hopefully this approach will play to his strengths. But that movie also had excellent VFX, and some of the shots in here are rough. There's time to fix them, at least... which probably can't be said of Godzilla's design. I like that he's pink (did some Warner Bros. executive take the wrong message away from Barbie?) and sporting a thagomizer on his tail, but his proportions are uncanny. And I see Kong found the Infinity Gauntlet; good for him.

I am, of course, not done talking about Godzilla Minus One. It added over 200 screens and made $8.3 million in its second weekend in the U.S., a minuscule drop considering that its $11.4 million opening "weekend" spanned five days. Almost a third of all tickets sold this weekend were for Godzilla or Hayao Miyazaki's The Boy and the Heron, remarkable in a market so allergic to foreign imports. That brings its total to $25.3 million (more by the time you read this). With an avalanche of Christmas blockbusters on the way, its grip on premium-format screens is about to slip. Still, I see it hanging around theaters for a while. I have never seen the fandom so united in praise for a film before, and it's making plenty of new fans.

Some of those fans are in high places. Variety leaked that it's on the 20-film shortlist for Best Visual Effects at the Oscars (to be narrowed to five nominees), something I, again, never expected to read about a Toho Godzilla film. Alas, it's locked out of this year's Best International Film category due to the quirky nomination period.

Much has been made of how great the film looks on a $15 million budget. I have two caveats, one in each direction. No one is quite sure where the $15 million figure came from; Yamazaki said at a recent con appearance that he only wished he had that much to play with. (He has yet to divulge the actual budget, just that it was above ¥1 billion.) Now, unions in the Japanese film industry are much weaker than in Hollywood, so a given production budget goes a lot further in Japan. All the same, I doubt that alone explains Minus One looking better than most superhero movies made for twenty times the cost. I'll offer a couple more reasons: Yamazaki has extensive visual effects experience (he's been the VFX supervisor of all but one of the live-action films he's directed), and the film's big effects scenes aren't as busy or lengthy as many of the Hollywood counterparts. I don't know if Disney will ask Yamazaki to direct the next Star Wars movie (that would require there to be a next Star Wars movie), but the studios here should be taking notes.

the sphinx, a blog with a ton of American Godzilla rarities to share, has outdone itself—behold a continuity and dialogue script for the U.S. version of King Kong vs. Godzilla! Included in the download is a detailed comparison with the film. No huge differences, apart from the script giving the secretary added to the U.S. version a name, but a fascinating piece of history all the same.

The Minus One incarnation of Godzilla (MaiGoji?) has joined Godzilla Battle Line, accompanied by [SPOILER]. To be honest, my enthusiasm for this game has been flagging, and I'm not caught up on the strategies developing around these two, so I'll just refer you to Sir Melee's channel as usual. This Godzilla's also doing a collaboration with the Japanese mobile game Fleet of Blue Flame.

Tiffany Grant, Asuka's original voice actress, will narrate the audiobooks for the Neon Genesis Evangelion: ANIMA light novels which explore an Instrumentality-free path for the show. Seven Seas Entertainment published them in English from 2019 to 2021, which, to be honest, was also news to me.

This one's for my fellow library workers: the obscenely popular Who HQ nonfiction series for children is publishing a book about Godzilla next June. I don't know if this will have quite the same impact on today's young Godzilla fans as the Ian Thorne tome had on Gen Xers and Millennials, what with the Internet and all, but it's certain to be more factual. Expect illustrations instead of licensed photos, and not just because of Toho.

I can finally talk more about the Godzilla x Kong: Titan Chasers mobile game without fearing a DMCA. Not that there's much to talk about; it's freemium through and through and I'm not sure I know a single person who's excited for it. Interesting to see some critters from the comics break into another medium, at least. Here's the trailer.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

@dogsnoptics requested Imprisoning War (Power) Link and his kids, so have Link and his little firstborn toddler cutie pie baby girl <3

Link found solace in looking after his daughter.

He hadn’t expected to, honestly. It had taken him so long to convince himself to even look at her when she was a baby. He’d been convinced he might hate her initially, and the idea of seeing the physical representation of a union that neither party wanted… it felt too real. Somehow, Zelda had managed to do it, though. He supposed that was mainly because she didn’t really have an option not to. But she’d been handling the baby on her own, with nannies’ help, and he’d done nothing to assist for six months.

He felt a little ashamed about it now, honestly, but there was no changing the past. The little girl was a ray of sunshine, and he loved watching her run about in the royal gardens. Her favorite pastime, in return, was to point everything out to him and make sure he saw it.

Lately, Sonia had been playing a new game. She would grab all kinds of items and identify them – if she didn’t know what something was, she would find the nanny and ask her. Link wasn’t really able to help in that regard as he hadn’t spoken a single word since a few weeks after the girl’s birth.

Today, though, the nanny wasn’t around – many times when Link came to be with his daughter, he would be left in solitude, which he appreciated. Sonia was still playing her game, grabbing an item, running up to Link, and showing him what it was. He nodded and smiled every time, giving her a kiss if she’d sit still long enough for one. The toddler giggled every time, running back into the garden to find something else. But today, she seemed more insistent about things, bringing him a ball three times, and grabbing another ball and differentiating the color.

“Blue ball!” she said, showing him. Then she put it down and brought up another one. “Green ball!”

Link nodded again, looking between the two, wondering what his silly girl was getting at.

Sonia stared back at him, trying to communicate something, and she sighed, sitting on the ground of in front of him. She held the blue one up again. “Ball.”

She pointed it to it. “Ball.”

Did she want another one? Link looked around to find a matching blue ball, but there was none.

“Ball, Dada.”

Link looked back at his daughter, handing her the green one. She held it, looking at it curiously, but there was a clear frustration in her face. She sighed again, running towards the fountain. Link watched her a little confusedly, wondering what that had been about.

The next day, Sonia’s game was less pronounced. She still raced around the garden, but she barely showed him anything with her excited announcements. He wondered if maybe she just wasn’t in the mood that day, but the next day she spoke even less. By the end of the week, the nanny commented that she wasn’t talking at all.

Link bit his lip as he watched her take a nap. Why had she stopped speaking? What was wrong? He wondered if it had to do with the trip they’d just gotten home from – Zelda had wanted to tour the kingdom, but, knowing the people would want to see the entire royal family, she had dragged Link and Sonia along. Link had not been keen on the idea in the slightest, and had spent nearly the entirety of the trip silently carrying Sonia from one place to the next. He supposed there were some genuinely good things that had come out of it, though – he himself hadn’t been outside the castle perimeter since Impa had taken him to Kakariko a year ago, and aside from that, he hadn’t seen how Hyrule had been recovering at all since the war’s end. It had been… reassuring to witness it. At least he knew his sacrifice was doing something.

The other good thing, he supposed, was that Zelda got to spend far more time with her daughter than she usually did.

Link didn’t have much interest in being anywhere near Zelda, but it was only fair for Sonia to have quality time with her mother. That was rarely the case when they were in the palace – Zelda’s duties kept her busy from sun up to sun down. She found moments as best she could to spend time with Sonia, but Link knew it was few and far between; he himself spent a good portion of the day with his daughter and he never saw Zelda. He and the queen saw more of each other on their tour of Hyrule than they ever had since their wedding

Sonia stirred, and he gently ran his hand over her forehead. She didn’t feel warm, so it wasn’t likely a fever. When she opened her eyes, she reached up to him, and he gently pulled her into his arms, rocking back and forth. His daughter pointed excitedly towards the window and the gardens, giggling. Her energy certainly didn’t imply that anything was wrong. So why was she as mute as Link all of a sudden?

As… as mute as…

Oh.

Oh.

This was… this was his fault, wasn’t it? While Link never spoke, Sonia did usually spend time with nannies, who constantly indulged the girl’s babbling and taught her new words. On their tour of Hyrule, the girl’s time had exclusively been with her father.

He remembered Impa’s gentle push, her advice that children need to hear and see new words to learn them. He remembered smiling a little at the comment, thinking that was what the nannies were for.

Damn it.

It wasn’t like Link couldn’t speak. He knew he could. He used to. But ever since… well. For a while he was incapable of it. Too exhausted, too out of words in the first place. Since then, he’d gotten better, but there was honestly no reason to speak. The only people he spent time around were knights who knew that he just wanted to spar, Impa, who had long since learned his cues and didn’t need him to speak to understand, and his daughter, who didn’t used to care that he was silent. His duties didn’t extend far beyond that – he was more symbolic for the kingdom than anything else. It was the queen whose words held power to them, whose words were necessary. Link was a shadow in the castle. So he saw no reason to speak anymore.

Link bit his tongue, uncertain. It had been so long…

He sighed, taking Sonia outside. When he put her on the ground, the two-year-old excitedly took off after a butterfly. He made his way over to a wooden crate in the corner where many of her outdoor toys were stored. He pulled out her favorite one.

It didn’t take long for Sonia to notice, and she watched him curiously, waddling over. Link sat on the ground to be at eye level with her, holding out the item. He took a deep breath. “Ball.”

His voice cracked. It cracked. Goddess. He felt like he was trying to resurrect himself. But Sonia’s entire face lit up, and she grabbed the ball, bouncing up and down and screaming its name over and over and over, alongside his own. “Dada! Ball! Dada, ball! Ball!!”

Link’s laughter rang through the gardens, something he hadn’t heard in years, and the two giggled themselves breathless.

[elerrinacrownedwithstars]

This was supposed to be a more coherent and structured post but my brain is mush so instead you get a bit more chaotic representation.

was thinking of how sometimes you see arguments that Beren and Lúthien get "plot armour" and are treated differently because they are Tolkien's self-inserts for himself and his wife.

and I will allow this is true tuo some extent, especially in the case of Lúthien, but I don't think their story and the success of their quest is because it's self-gratifying fanfiction.

not plot armour or self-inserts but secret third thing: Beren and Lúthien are a part of Ilúvatar's own device to bring down Morgoth and Sauron, and they are able to do the impossible because they have divine favour on their side. (I think it's even said in Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth that if the union of Elf and Man should be achieved, it would be for "some high purpose of doom" - I see what you did there, Tolkien.)

Sam and Frodo are also part of this device (and when you think about it, their quest parallels B&L in many ways).

LOTR arguably confirms this: in TT, Sam and Frodo discuss the Quest for the Silmaril and Sam proposes that they're in the same tale still.

in both cases it's people who no one thought of as powerful or important, and so easily underestimated, that overcome all odds.

it's great that these deeds are worked Ilúvatar's Children, whom Morgoth and Sauron see only as useful slaves.

Beren steals a Silmaril from the crown of Morgoth -> it eventually passes to Elwing -> she brings the Silmaril to Eärendil -> Eärendil uses the light of the Silmaril to find Valinor and fulfills his prophesied fate of pleading mercy for Elves and Men -> Eärendil becomes the Star of High Hope -> Elwing and Eärendil's descendants go on to found the kingdoms that keep Sauron at bay so that he never manages to subdue Middle-earth completely and resistance can rise at the crucial moment to finally destroy him -> Galadriel gives the light of Eärendil's star to Frodo -> the light that comes from the same Silmaril that Beren and Lúthien fought for aids Frodo on his journey to Mount Doom.

as for divine favour/mercy as protection: B&L are saved by the eagles from certain death, they are allowed to return to life and Lúthien alone of the Children is permitted to change her fate (change, not choose like Eärendil and Elwing and their descendants) so that Elwing can eventually be born and be the link between the Silmaril and Eärendil (Elwing also survives two Kinslayings against all odds), the Ring is allowed to be destroyed even though Frodo had essentially failed, and he and Sam are brought back to the lands of the living from the literal mouth of hell.

B&L and S&F are also rewarded for their efforts: B&L get their happily ever after, Frodo is granted an access to the only place where he may heal and experience the greatest bliss that can be had in Arda, and Sam lives a long, fulfilling and busy life (he even gets to tend to and beautify the Shire with Galadriel's gift and in a way fulfill the ambition of creating a great garden the Ring tempted him with).

Like, Ilúvatar used the same device - the love his Children had for one another - twice and it worked both times, but that very much tracks in his legendarium, because while it's the fundamental force of Arda that takes shape in hope and pity and mercy and friendship, his villains regularly scorn and underestimate it. And because of that, Morgoth and Sauron never see B&L and F&S coming.