#he's the fucking reason i had to live in poverty instead of having a good happy childhood or some shit
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tw vent (mostly in tags)
Ah yes, the violent thoughts of revenge are back
#I straight up missed most of first period cause i was stuck daydreaming about killing him#My life was over before it began#he's the fucking reason i had to live in poverty instead of having a good happy childhood or some shit#theres so many things people take for granted#even middle class#i could have never been homeless (I am still greatful that this year i have a place to stay)#even then the place im at#they said we had to stay there for less than 6 months#6 fucking months#im feeling stressed the fuck out#but i really want to be optomistic#i want to be happy#but its getting hard as shit#especially knowing all the things i've missed out on#i dont want to overshare everything#especially online#but#im going to find him#and i swear on my life im going to kill him#and if i cant to that#i will ruin his life#i will publish his name#i will tell everyone everything about him#i will mention every fucking thing#he's hired a fucking investigor once on me and my fam#so it shouldnt be hard to do the same to him#so far i know his fb#and linkdin profile#and that was just me googling his name#i also know what university he goes in
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I definately see your point in regards to the politics of The Promise and the Korra side of things at large. On another topic, though, how could Mako have been improved upon as a character because I always thought he was the least interesting character in all of the Avatar universe? Maybe instead of just making him a bookkeeper make him a full on former Triad member?
awww no i kind of love mako tbh. my bland little saltine cracker. i think we need to make room in our hearts for more dull autistic utterly swagless men whose idea of a good time is simply doing the daily crossword while eating plain cornflakes (no milk). but real talk mako’s character definitely had room for improvement. not because he’s boring, but because all the actually interesting aspects of his character were largely relegated to subtext, and he was instead given boring ass subplots like “stupid love triangle,” “being a cop,” “having to babysit an annoying twink,” etc. so it’s not that his backstory needs improvement, but rather that if those largely subtextual elements of his character were actually teased out and explored in meaningful ways, he would’ve been much more interesting to watch, because his purpose in the story would actually have some fucking thematic depth.
in a better show, mako’s backstory, arc, and general narrative presence would’ve served to illustrate how the neoliberal economy of republic city detrimentally affects the socioeconomically disadvantaged. in the ba sing se arc, bolin sees the lower ring and is like “eww gross POVERTY!!!! no wonder dad left.” like my guy you were living on the street as a child forced to exploit your labor for gutter scraps. why is poverty all of a sudden an issue to you (you can claim he’s just in deep denial and/or quite literally an idiot, but still. lmfao). in a superior show, mako and bolin’s presence would implicitly prompt the viewer to ask, why does the presence of a nuclear family structure necessitate security, and why does its absence collapse any sort of social safety net? why were mako and bolin forced to live on the streets once they were orphaned? how does living in abject poverty in one’s formative years psychologically affect their relationship to wealth, power, security, and success? (mako and bolin only tangentially cover some of these questions in their arcs, most notably in mako’s decision to date asami over korra, and in bolin’s obtuse quest for fame.) furthermore, what parallels versus juxtapositions can be drawn from asami’s own complex experiences navigating wealth, paternal abuse, and systems of control as they directly pertain to the beneficiaries of these capitalist structures? in what ways can asami and mako&bolin bridge these gaps across opposite ends of the class hierarchy, and in what ways are these chasms fundamentally untraversable?
i feel like the main failing of lok was that it actually presented some really interesting concepts, but it seemed like most of it was purely by accident and the show had no actual interest in focalizing or even addressing the compelling subtext hidden between bland and/or frustrating scenes oversaturated with obnoxious characters. like mako and asami are ostensibly main characters, but we never actually get satisfying meat to chew on regarding their inner lives and characters arcs, despite them being two of the most compelling characters in the show just based off of premise and lingering subtextual allusions to more interesting themes than were actually addressed in the show itself. so like asami, who i adore mostly for what remains unspoken (her abusive relationship to her father, her ethical contentions with her own capital, her latent homoerotic feelings for korra, etc.), mako is also compelling me for reasons largely unaddressed outside of the occasional “oh well you’re traumatized from all that time you spent taking care of your brother who is only somewhat younger than you as a small child and selling yourself to criminal organizations to have enough to eat week by week, which probably informs your decisions somewhat now that you are technically an adult (he’s like. 18???? also???) so that’s cool i guess. but also what the fuck you’re so sick and twisted for being attracted to two gorgeous powerful women at the same time, you should go to JAIL!!!!!” and then they do. actually send him to jail. -_-
#mysticarcadehologram-blog#asks#lok crit#sometimes i remember how poorly written this show was despite all its potential and im just like wtf all over again#like both on a dialogue and structural basis. scene by scene season by season. this was a mess 😭#but mako is my silly little guy i love him <3333333#mako#bolin#asami#i don’t even rly address bolin outside of his proximity to mako bc besides the pilot where he is charming and cute and has a brain.#bolin does not interest me at all bc i cannot stand the dumb comic relief archetype#ppl just hate mako bc he fumbled two of the gorgeoust bitches in the world#but like. you’d fumble them too. be honest
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going feral over stede and the bar scene in the finale, send help.
because in some ways, this is a continuation of the party scene in e5; only now, ed’s not here. his pain is theoretical, and stede still thinks they’ll never see each other again.
ed would never know if he let it go, this time. no one would ever know.
it’s tempting. stede’s brokenhearted and feeling utterly alone, and these men are offering him attention alongside a fucked up poison pill masquerading as acceptance.
all he has to do is share a couple stories, so long as they’re the stories that confirm the horrible things these men so desperately need to keep believing, or realize they only thrive and profit off endless cycles of human misery. if that ever happened, they would be forced to make an active choice to keep perpetuating the misery or step away and become part of the solution.
which means: that cannot fucking happen. under no circumstances do they want to be in that very uncomfortable place. they like their lives, they like their clothes, they like their nice houses. they are just doing their best, they tell themselves; they do not go home at night and feel like they’re The Bad Guys.
so they do not want to hear about ed, who is lonely and confused and strong and super hot and very complicated and the most lovely person stede has ever met.
ed would fuck with their emotional economy. if ed exists and he is not subject to their definitions of the world and the reasons they made up and codified into science and law to explain why they have what they have, then hooooooly shit kids. holy shit: what the fuck else are we wrong about???
these are the thoughts they cannot think. world-shaking, identity-sundering thoughts. these thoughts fucking suck.
all they want is blackbeard. they do not want a man in all his beautiful nuance; the ways in which he is angry, the ways in which he is tender or silly or looks like an elvish prince or romance novel cover without the beard. ed, who kissed stede on the beach and was willing to give it all up for him isn’t the story they want.
they want a monster, born of the devil. they want to go gawk at the locals like the poverty tourist shtick from the republic of pirates, but without even having to leave the comfort of the home they stole. they already feel so fucking superior, but they want more.
the hunger that gnaws at them has nothing to do with the food they can afford to take for granted. they will always want more.
and now they want stede to feed them. they want him to show them that he had his wild fun, off with those little urban friends of his— now he’s back where he belongs, intemperate fit of madness over.
he’s still weird, and he’s definitely still gay and they still do not like that at all, no sir, but in this moment they decide: for right now, he’s one of them.
this is how he can do it. this is how stede can win, just this once. now, he can give them someone else to gleefully chew on and bask in the shared glow of keeping somebody else down.
because here’s the catch: stede will no longer be one of them if he defends ed even a little, their pushback says.
so make your choice, stede, these fucking assholes/the narrative says. what’s it going to be?
and because this show is very real and heartbreaking and understands that good and bad is not so much something people are, it’s something people do: stede slips up. the words come out of his well-meaning mouth, and he can’t take them back.
because mary hasn’t yet attempted murder with a skewer, stede’s still in his belly of the whale moment, so instead of remembering what he learned at the party (that now is the time to say fuck you fuckers, here or not ed would be horrified to hear this and thus i am horrified, because his pain is my pain now that i know it exists and then burn their lives down) he backpedals, but he doesn’t take it back.
ed’s a killer: the worst thing he could possibly say.
the secret ed told him—the secret i would guess ed has only spoken aloud to stede in that exact way— alone in their little bathtub confessional: he denied it. he knows that ed has hurt people and let people die, and while the morality hair is being split admittedly fine there along with the exact definition of murder, to ed that makes a difference.
and because stede is flawed and human and kind of an asshole sometimes but at the end of the day, so so wonderful: he knows that even if ed will never know he said this, it matters. stede will know it happened, that these gross men wanted to point and laugh at his friend and the man he doesn’t yet understand he loves, and that stede didn’t protect ed from that.
the world ed moved in means he was told the acceptable methods of protection only have to do with the physical world; you teach a man to fight, you shield him with your body, you fuck around and jostle. he was starting to test those limits and move outside his box to allow his other instincts and desires to surface alongside the parts of himself he allowed out already, but these men don’t care about any of that.
it’s supposed to be stede’s job to protect ed here, because ed is perfectly fucking capable but he shouldn’t have to, and because these are stede’s people — or more accurately, it’s everybody in the crew’s job to protect each other because that’s what a fucking family does, and without frenchie and abshir and the rest of his compatriots, stede wouldn’t have been able to do what he did at the party.
unfortunately stede left the crew when he left ed, even if he didn’t see it that way. they would have reminded him who he actually is: the gentleman pirate, thieved plant and all. they know he’s a weirdo and he might misuse all the oranges again, but they love him. part of loving him is knowing he’s still on his way to figuring it out, and giving him a little more room to grow within their space. that’s what you do when you love someone: even when they drive you nuts, you give them way more benefit of the doubt than you would some asshole on the street. (or in a bar.)
because he’s worth that love and kindness and does the same for others, stede tries; he redirects, won’t say another mean word about ed (won’t say a single word about ed, in fact) but the words he already said ring in his ears. he lied in a way that would be a particularly rough blow to ed’s feelings, he didn’t stand up for ed enough after that, and he fucking knows it.
so he stumbles back into the party and is a real shithead to mary (while... acknowledging she should absolutely be mad at him... for being a shithead. stede fuckin bonnet, i fuckin challenge you to c’mere a second i wanna give your complicated, sad face a gentle hug) but what he says is very, very important.
the gentleman pirate, he called himself at the bar. ed called him that when they met; the crew went full sports movie locker room speech vibes confirming it in front of the royal fucking navy and thus probably god. stede finally believed it in that moment, that he was achieving his vision of forging a new path in piracy. maybe all the nice things people said about him were... not something to just brush off???? seems fake, but big if true!!!!
and then chauncey’s big dumb mouth and big dumb gun blew that rising thread of confidence to absolute shreds along with his big dumb face, so here stede is: yelling at mary and pretending he’s not just yelling at himself.
he says mary needs to give up her fake title: he means, i hate myself. i was never actually that strong and loved man. i was not a gentleman or a pirate and i did not have a family. i was pathetic, there and here, and i will never be anything other than that.
my father was right.
and then mary has fucking haaaad it and tries to STAB HIM! IN THE EARHOLE! and we get like, the most gorgeous move into a journey out of the underworld/reverse lot’s wife deal where stede’s sin was not looking back and it’s going back and dying that heals him and i am. i am honestly sort of lowkey forever wanting to chew on this show like old bubblegum but it never seems to lose any flavor!!!!
love it.
#my ofmd meta#ugggggh stede like. ugh. ugh. ugh. LOVE HIM SAD FOR HIM#we all fuck up and can still be loved anyway is woven into the core of this show#NAY#we WILL fuck up and we WILL still deserve love#like: this is so sad and real#i love textured characters i love writing that holds them accountable and holds them gently at once#not excusing or writing off just... understanding#and showing such incredible compassion while at the same time saying: get a load of this mess amirite#truly: the attitude of olu#love it. the show has the soul of olu#olu is the show's soul#thanks for coming to my insane tag tedtalk bye#ofmd spoilers
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HAPPY 2K QUINN! I'm literally so happy for you 💕 if it's okay I was hoping to request for your event! Can I spin the bottle for Finnick Odair, #31 please? Thank you! Happy 2k love you!
☼ darling pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼
warnings; swearing, murder, death mention. injuries, some gore
wc; 3.5k
prompt; 31. Hero/Villain AU
part two.
–
A few years ago, you decided that you’d had enough of the city you live in. Every day, you’d wake up and there’d be a different tragedy on the news. There’d be a news anchor, standing in the middle of some destroyed building, for the tenth time that week, the name of some hero attached to the caption. And instead of outrage, there’d be praise.
‘They’ve done it again, they’ve saved the city!’ The anchor would shout, completely missing the disaster they’re standing in. They would never ask themselves; ‘at what cost?’ because they never thought that far. How many lives would be changed because said hero overreacted?
The buildings demolished, murdering innocent people that were minding their own business. People that couldn’t get out of the building in time before the whole structure collapsed. Hundreds of jobs taken away from people who were trying to live their lives.
You’d leave your house, terrified that your belongings would be gone when you get home. Maybe they’d be set ablaze, maybe they’d be destroyed because another hero came blasting through a neighborhood without thinking again, maybe they’d be stolen because they’ve created this pocket of poverty that hardly anyone can come out of.
What fueled your thoughts was another attack from the villains of the city. The brother and sister duo, Cashmere and Gloss, had almost gotten away with the biggest heist of that year. They’d usually stick to jewelry stores and banks, but this time, they’d gone after the museum.
Six paintings and three statues had been stolen. Cashmere is the genius sister, the brains behind the operation. She had it planned out to the very second, where Gloss would enter, where he’d be at what minute, what he’d be doing. The problem is that he doesn’t have a hold on his invisibility. It can be good one second, and the next you’re exposed.
He’d left the museum, the alarms being set off. A veteran hero, Incognito, had been sent to take care of the situation, since it was a huge problem. He’s older than most of the heroes nowadays, dark and curly hair, olive-toned skin. He’s got these bags beneath his eyes that never seem to go away. Those who have actually spoken to him say that he has a drinking issue. They can smell the alcohol on their breath.
Gloss had just reached the getaway car, when the invisibility wore off. Incognito caught him red-handed, but Gloss is known for more than just the invisibility. He’s also known for his strength.
A brawl ensued, where Incognito had sent Gloss flying into your office building. It shattered all the windows, and took out the whole right side support beams in the process. The whole building started leaning. It’s small, only about ten floors, and it was a volunteer work day, so there weren’t many people in the office at the time.
Still, the whole building came down in the middle of the street, taking several cars out in the process. As far as you know, there weren’t any casualties that day. There very well could have been, since it was a Thursday afternoon. Any other week, and the whole office would’ve been packed, like it usually is. The only reason why no one died is because of luck.
And what finalized your decision on the fact that you refused to live in fear, was when you had found Incognito, about to fuck off after another successful day of ruining lives. You told him that he could’ve killed over a dozen people because he was careless. He prioritized paintings and statues over human lives.
He told you to get over it, and left.
That’s when you knew that you were going to change the city so that they’d finally see that you’d prevail without them. That crime rate would go down if jobs weren’t being lost because of them destroying buildings. That it’s their fucking presence in this city that forces it to be the worst version of itself.
While deciding who you’d be, and how to execute this exactly, you made a few rules for yourself to follow. They’re simple, really. If you’re going to be in a position of power, whether it be good or seemingly evil, then you have to know what sort of box you’d be surviving in. Especially if you’re going to be hated by the public.
The first is that you aren’t allowed to get yourself mixed in any other villain relations around you. If the fellow evils of Capitol City need help, then they can count you out. They have to look to each other for that support. If you start helping others, and they help you, then a debt system starts. It’s inevitable. Once you’re caught in it, it’s impossible to get out. You won’t be able to keep track of who helped you and vice versa.
Which means you aren’t allowed to ask them to come and get you out of any problems that you’ve managed to get yourself into. If you’re going to create a problem, then you’ll solve that problem. You’ll get the job done by yourself, even if you accidentally kill yourself in the process. It’s a two way street.
This goes for making enemies, as well. If you’re constantly surrounded by people that hate you, instead of just a few neutrals, then you’ll get yourself cornered. You can still have friends, you’ve got to. Otherwise you’re not going to make it very far. You have to have connections, and you can do that without getting involved.
After all, you plan to terrorize this city for more than just a few years.
The second and most obvious rule is that you will not get caught up in any hero business. You will not help them under any circumstance. If it’s a matter you agree with, then you’ll do it yourself. There’s no reason to help the people that never helped you as a child.
They’re the reason why that villain set the entire city on fire, including the neighborhood you lived in. That same night, they pissed off that bodybuilder that tore the city apart, damaging roads and making it impossible for fire and rescue to get out. They’re the reason why the flames consumed your home, and why your parents got trapped inside.
If they’re the embodiment of all the good in the world, and they swear themselves to keep the city safe, then they should be held accountable. You can’t understand why the city gets destroyed every single time they step foot outside of the warehouse they live in. No matter where they go, the destruction follows.
That brings you to the third and final rule; if you come across a hero, you’re the last person they see.
Unfortunately, you have managed to break two of these rules in the past hour. It wasn’t on purpose, you were going off of a rumor that you’d heard. If the Capitol City’s Darling is patrolling the most dangerous side of the city without anyone else with him, then you’re going to take advantage of the situation.
There’s a lot of things about him that you can’t stand. One of them being the fact that he actually goes by Darling. It was supposed to be a temporary nickname until he picked one out for himself, but he never ended up changing it. He said that it fits him perfectly, because he is the most loved person in this city, compared to all of the other heroes.
He’s an egotistical asshole. Since you’ve started your whole project of exterminating the city, most heroes have caught the memo that you only go after the ones that have no regard for lives they’re changing each time they battle in a busy area. The apologies started rolling in last year, when you got your hands on Incognito.
“Remember me?” You’d asked, standing in front of him. His hands and legs were wired to the metal chair you secured him in. If he was going to escape, he had to do harm to himself first.
“No.” The word was bitter, “Why would I?”
“I’m the woman you told to get over the fact that my job was gone because you had to show off your power.” You smiled, “And here I am, getting over it.”
You got out of his way, allowing him to see the danger he was in. The fact that he was trapped in this chair, on top of a roof of one of the tallest buildings, at the complete mercy of you. At that point in time, you weren’t that known. You’d killed maybe two minor heroes, but they were forgotten quickly.
“Incognito, your days are over.” You said, standing behind the chair, flicking out your knife, “The city will never be terrorized by you again.”
You stabbed through his chest, blade aimed over his heart. The second you pulled the knife out, blood had spurt all over his costume, coating it red. You waited for a few moments, listening to him choke. That was it, the revenge you’d wanted for two years. And you wouldn’t stop there.
You kicked the chair off the roof, watching him fall, unable to save himself.
Incognito was dead, and everyone learned from it. It wasn’t long before the helicopters showed up with the spotlights, cameras capturing your every move, each word that left your mouth that night.
“I will not stop here!” You shouted, standing at the edge of the roof, “Incognito is the first of many who will fall!” You paused to laugh, “Get it?” The humor left your tone at the next sentence, “Any hero who destroys this city without a shred of empathy for those who live their lives in it, will die by my hands. I promise.”
Before they could catch you, you stepped off the roof, free falling. The air caressing your skin, stealing your breath, stomach in your throat. You didn’t reach the cement below, where Incognito’s mangled body was. You disappeared in the air, materializing in the abandoned apartment you fixed to make your home.
Even though the message was clear that night, not everyone learned from Incognito’s death. One of those people was Darling, he’d started a year before. He must have some vendetta against you, because he doesn’t apologize. And there are times where you’re sure he’s going out of his way to take down everything in his path.
He’s cocky because he hasn’t lost a fight yet. And he teases the people he’s going against to get under their skin. To fire them up to make them clumsy during the fight. You know what type of person he is, and he has every right to be that way. He hasn’t lost a single fight he’s started. That’s why he needs to be taken out by you in one swing.
He’s been on your radar for a while now, you know everything there is to know about him.
However, he must’ve been after Brutus, a strength oriented villain. He’s huge, he could easily crush a skull in his palm if he wanted to. You haven’t met Brutus yet, much less talked to him, so you’re not sure where he lies on sanity. From what you’ve experienced so far, though, he’s fucking crazy.
You went into the situation without knowing the full context. That’s your fault, you probably should’ve observed for a few minutes longer, at least then you’d know that Darling and Brutus have had it out for each other for a while now. This was an inevitable fight that Brutus has been itching for.
You tried to knock out Darling, but he was prepared for a second evil to come at him, because he swung you towards the asphalt without breaking a sweat. Your hand had just touched the ground when you ghosted to your feet at the end of the alley. Your entrance had fucked up Brutus’ plan.
He almost killed you right there, except Darling stepped in to stop that from happening, redirecting Brutus’ attention. It wasn’t enough, he wanted you dead for ruining his chance at killing Darling. And since Darling had helped you—on purpose or unknowingly—Brutus thought that you were working together.
It’s not a great way to start a relationship with one of the most important villains in Capitol City. If Brutus hates you, then you’re fucked. He’s got connections everywhere, especially with Cashmere and Gloss. You just managed to convince them that you were an ally and they needed to stop sending their goons to come and kill you. As a sign of good faith, you kept sending them back alive, too.
The most irritating part about Darling isn’t any of the traits that you listed earlier. In fact, it’s his power. It’s a dampener. The best way to put it, is that you are a bee, and he is a bucket of water. Once he pours that water on you, you can’t fly anymore. Which means that you have to work hard to escape. It’s an unfair advantage. He’s superhuman, he’s stronger, faster and smarter than the average person.
Even compared to you, because your ability to disappear into thin air and appear somewhere else takes away the whole strength and speed. All that’s left is intelligence, and you’ve got that going for you, anyway.
You’ve been running from Darling and Brutus for thirty minutes now. Every time you think that you’ve finally lost Darling and have your power back, he enters the vicinity again, and you’re unable to leave. You know for a fact that Brutus is still around because you can hear the destruction. He’s a goddamn microphone.
You’re not sure how long Darling can keep this up for, though. He obviously knows that you’re still around, and that’s why he won’t give up the range. The problem is that it has to be exhausting. He’s got to let you go and save himself from Brutus, or else the both of you are going to die.
You peek out from behind the brick wall, finding Brutus and Darling are having a moment in the intersection. Brutus swipes at Darling, but he’s quick to move out of the way. It only takes one glance for Darling to find you hiding, which causes Brutus to look up as well.
“You!” He shouts.
“Fuck.” You breathe, turning around, taking off down the long asphalt road.
The building you were behind is the last for at least a mile. The street you’re running down should bring you right to the abandoned jewelry plant. Cashmere and Gloss kept stealing the wealth, so the company gave it up, decided that the cost wasn’t worth it. It’s still got a lot of the heavy machinery inside, there will be places to hide there. You’ve been inside of it a few times, it’s huge. Darling will lose his range in no time, and you’ll be back home.
Behind you, you can hear the roaring and shouting from the two boys. They pause to fight, causing the ground to shake from the force they’re throwing each other at. Brutus’ strength comes from more than just his power. He used to be a bodybuilder, he went crazy with power when he realized that he could get whatever he wanted because of his appearance alone.
It makes sense. If he was stealing your purse, you’d let him keep it. And you’d probably give him your entire identity while you were at it.
The asphalt turns to gravel for the last quarter of the mile. You have to watch where you step because there’s chunks of concrete laying around hazardously. You think that they come here to dismantle structures that have been broken off by the heroes. There’s a lot of open space to do it.
The warehouse grows in height the closer you get. You can feel the energy return to your body every now and then, but each time you get ready to disappear, it’s taken again. Darling’s failing, it’s only a matter of time before Brutus gets his full strength back. You two will really be fucked, then.
Or rather just Darling, because you won’t stick around to see the end of this.
You spare a single glance behind you to see how much time you have to find a hiding space inside of the warehouse. It’s less than thirty seconds, Darling’s just ahead of Brutus. The mask that hides his identity is in shreds, you might get to see who the Capitol adores today. You squeeze in through the broken doors, giving it a shove for good measure to hold them back for a couple seconds longer.
Darling must slam his entire body against the doors to get them to open, because the noise echoes through the empty warehouse. You’re heading for one of the maintenance closets on the right side of the building. And judging by sound alone, they are too.
You swing the door open, disappearing into the darkness, but not shutting the door. If you do, then they’ll see the motion, and there’s only one way out of the closet. You refused to get cornered.
A roar fills the air the same second you can feel most of the energy return to your body. It’s not enough to use to get out of here, it has to be restored completely. Darling’s close.
And as if he can hear your thoughts, his loud panting fills the air, shoes pounding on the cement. You press your lips together, trying to become one with the door, when a thought occurs to you. You can find out Darling’s identity, and use that to keep him from destroying the city further. Or you can take him and kill him, because he’s got to be weak.
Right as he comes running by, you stick your hand out, fingers securing around his wrist, yanking him into the closet with you. He doesn’t resist, practically collapsing in your arms, taking you down to the floor with him. The back of your hand hits the wall as you land in a crouch over him, shielding him from the doorway.
The ground shakes as Brutus runs by, stealing the sun beams momentarily. You don’t dare move from your position until he’s gone.
The mask has fallen from Darling’s face, disintegrating. He’s barely keeping his sea green eyes open, watching you, waiting for your reaction to who he is. You can see why he has his identity hidden. He’s famous. He is the real life Capitol City darling, outside of being a hero. He’s the reason why so much attention was drawn to the city in the first place.
He’s horribly injured, there’s dirt caked into his skin, mixing with the blood that’s coming out of various cuts and scrapes that he endured while fighting Brutus. It’s the perfect time to kill him, he’s so weak he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. He thinks that you only have your power, but you’ve got a knife for a reason.
Darling—or Finnick Odair, as the real world knows him—reaches up, grabbing your bicep to the arm that caught his head. The reason why he doesn’t currently have a head injury, on top of everything else he’s accumulated. He’s a moron, bitten off more than he can chew by trying to fight Brutus.
You press your lips together. You shouldn’t waste an opportunity when it presents itself. Your fingers slide along your waistband until they come across your knife. Finnick watches as you flick it open.
“Please.” The word is barely audible.
“Please what?” You mock, “This is what happens when you have zero regard for the citizens that praise you. For the people that pay to watch your movies and buy the magazines with your face on it. You don’t deserve the life you live. You create more problems than you fix them.”
“I know.” He whispers, “I’m sorry.”
You twist the knife in your hand, trying to work up to stabbing him. That’s when you feel the rest of your energy return to your body. Some color seems to appear in his face, no longer holding onto his own power.
“Save me.” He says, “Please.”
You don’t have a chance to respond, his eyes roll to the back of his head, body going slack. You jerk forward at the sudden weight, grinding your teeth. You could do it, you could get him out of here.
Brutus roars, reminding you that you have to make up your mind. He’s coming back this way, retracing his steps. He might even be ripping the doors off their hinges to check the rooms he passed.
“Fine.” You snarl, no longer trying to be quiet, “But you owe me, Darling.”
--
this was for my 2k celebration!
you can join the party -> HERE.
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x reader#thg#the hunger games#anon#ask#2k celebration
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I'm not good at meta but if I were I'd write about how Justified, Raylan vs Boyd specifically, is such a perfect example of how having the support of just one person in your corner can literally change your life. And I just. Yes. That is exactly how it works. When Boyd says, "when Raylan went off to college and the Marshals, and I went off to Kuwait." Yep. That's how it works! Raylan had only one person who wanted to see him live a better life who gave him very little money to get out, but he did and he made it all because he had that one voice telling him he could do it, encouraging him, wanting more for him.
Something tells me Boyd didn't have that. We don't know much about his backstory, but I feel like it's reasonable to assume Boyd likely had the opposite of that, a family that actively encouraged or pushing him to stay. Things that also stick out to me are the way Boyd and Bo have some semblance of a relationship compared to Raylan and Arlo, and the fact that Boyd had a brother as well. Essentially, he had family. After Raylan's mother died there was no one for Raylan to feel responsible for or even miss, aside from Helen who was the one who encouraged him to leave. It would have been a lot easier for him to make that decision to leave his home behind than for someone with a life and family like Boyd had. This isn't to "woobify" or excuse anything of course. I just really appreciate that bit of the narrative about it a lot. Raylan himself argues with someone once when they mention that he managed to get out and he tells them he thinks it mostly had to do with luck and I really like that line because yeah. Living in poverty, dead mother, abusive, alcoholic criminal for a father, and two thousand dollars to his name? I'm glad he knows how fucking lucky he is that he managed to escape and make something of himself instead of following in Arlo's footsteps because yeah, he 100% was.
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Yes, The Kims are the Bad Guys: A Review of Parasite
(This is click-bait, please read my review)
Quick thoughts:
The cinematography is absolutely gorgeous. There many stylistic choices that add to the overall atmosphere. The flooding scene with Ki-woo watching the water rush over his shoes. The water filling up their home as we watch the couple trapped in the bunker desperately trying to survive. The silence as Ki-taek realizes that he stabbed Dong-ik.
The movie is beautiful to watch and there are little touches here and there that make the experience even more enjoyable.
South Korea’s Culture:
I’m not South Korean, so there is a lot of cultural context I don’t have. There may be some critiques that come from this ignorance, so I would love to have an explanation. I think I caught most of it, but I know I’m missing information.
Why the Kims are actually bad people
I’m not starting with what they did to the Parks, but instead with Moon-gwang, her husband, and the driver. These people were also working class and had their lives completely upended due to the Kims. What I like about this, is that the Kims do feel some guilt but try to ignore it. It’s realistic and gives depth to our “parasites.” Purposefully aggravating someone’s allergies can be life-threatening. Planting the idea that someone’s driver may have assaulted someone is horrific. They manner in which these people were let go, may well affect their chances at finding other employment. Would you give a recommendation to a housekeeper you think is negligently spreading a serious disease or a driver that may fuck in your vehicles?
Ki-woo starting a romantic relationship with a high school sophomore is absolutely sickening. Min implying that he did the same? Also sickening. No one reacting properly to this? Makes me wonder if this is a common issue in South Korea. Not to mention, he attempted to murder the couple they trapped downstairs. Good on the husband for hitting Ki-woo. I also disliked Ki-jung manipulating a child’s trauma. She’s a cold one, for the most part.
Returning to Moon-gwang and her husband, I have to give the Kims some grace here. Their meeting and confrontation was an incredibly tense scene. Imagine finding out the previous housekeeper kept her husband in a secret bunk. Chung-sook could’ve accepted her deal, but chose to threaten her. A bucket of crabs situation, if you will. I love the parallels from this portion. They discover people doing what they’re doing and quickly work to secure their positions. The Kims attacked these people, attempted to cause anaphylaxis, and kicked Moon-gwang downstairs. Ki-taek finds blood on this unconscious woman and leaves her alone. Also, ties her up and locks them inside.
Why the Kims’ actions are understandable i.e. why they are great characters
The Kims depict the reality of poverty in SK. I assume it’s hard to get jobs unless you go to college. There’s a line about 500 graduates fighting over a security job. I think that paints a clear picture of how competitive the job market is. Ki-woo couldn’t pass what I assume were difficult entrance exams. Ki-jung has amazing talent with editing but probably can’t get a job for the same reasons. This family is barely scraping by. I have no qualms about lying about qualifications to get a job. Use that connection and make some coin.
The flooding scene and its aftermath are fucking amazing. Seeing them run in the rain just to find their only home covered in sewer water. Their few meager possessions are wrecked and they spend the night in the shelter. I think it’s a nice contrast to the warm and cushy night they were originally having. They’re living a fantasy and reality will fuck you over at any point in time.
I understand why Ki-taek lost it and stabbed Mr. Park. I don’t think the Kims are irredeemable monsters and Ki-taek crying over the man he killed shows that. They’re people living with shit circumstances trying to survive. They’re “bad people” in this movie, but they aren’t the bad guys.
No, the Parks aren’t bad guys, they aren’t good, but they aren’t bad.
I honestly want to delve into the minds of the people who think there are “good guys” and“bad guys” in this film. Where do they get this conclusion? The movie did not strike me as anti rich nor did it strike me as painting the Parks as these sweet, innocent protagonists.
The Parks seem like the average upper-class family. What surprised me was how often Mr. Park was home. I thought he would be more absent but he is involved with his family, minus his daughter.
Ahh, Da-hye. I assume SK also has this thing where sons are favored over daughters. She’s clearly looking for attention through her “trysts” with her tutors. I hesitate to fault the parents for not noticing her being groomed by two men because that shifts blame away from this fucking pieces of shit. She’s neglected and overlooked but because her base needs are met, the pain she’s going through is ignored.
I avoided parasite twitter to not see spoilers, but I saw the “hysteria” around Ram-don. Is sirloin expensive in SK? Could it be that the kind of steak doesn’t translate well in English? I get what it’s supposed to symbolize, but I can’t draw up too much rage at adding $10 steak to ramen.
The Park family crime is ignorance. They are shielded from the dark realities of the world by their money. When Ki-taek drives Mrs. Park around to prepare for the party, the stark reality of how different their experiences are is heartbreaking. The Parks don’t know what happened, the rain was just a nice bookend to the night. They don’t think about what a torrential rain can do to those that literally live below them. It’s like a snow day. Part of me is happy because I love the sight of snow and it often meant no school, but I think about the homeless people who are stuck outside in freezing temperatures. I can’t fault the Parks, but I understand Ki-taek’s frustration.
Class struggle(s)
Our three families represent the complexities of social classes and their struggles. Choong-sook said it best, the rich can afford to be nice because they have money. The Kims aren’t nice, but that’s the point. Their lives suck. When you’re siphoning wifi, folding pizza boxes, and watching drunkards piss outside your window, you’re not going to be super generous. We see that when they fight with Moon-gwang and her husband.
Moon-gwang and Guen-se are in similar circumstances, arguably worse since he has to hide from loan sharks. (I have questions around SK’s banking system. Loan sharks act like mafia and the Parks are paying their staff in cash and not via bank account). The Kims think they’re on the lowest rung and here are people even lower. Choong-sook tries to have them arrested to keep this newfound life of theirs. It’s selfish, they’re only focused on benefitting themselves. Still, the next day most of the Kims try to aid them. Too late, admittedly.
It says a lot that the Mr. and Mrs. Park expect Ki-taek to let “Jessica” and their other staff die to focus on saving their son. On one hand, I understand that the Parks were focused on saving their kid, like any decent parents, and that they didn’t know their staff was related. On the other hand, maybe have a little more concern for the people being attacked? I can’t fault Ki-taek for wanting to save his child too. Like I stated previously, the Parks, and by proxy the rich, struggle from ignorance. I’m not saying there aren’t rich people who actively revel in ruining others lives for their benefit, but some are just living. Am I really going to fault Mr. Park for living a comfortable life? No.
I like the imagery of the lower class characters having their issues downstairs. The Kims live below street level. Moon-gwang and Guen-se live in a bunker. They are situated even lower than the Kims. The Parks live uphill and upstairs, safely tucked away from the brutal realities of the world.
So what’s the point?
I’m not an economist, capitalist, communist, socialist, anarchist, etc because these theories hurt my brain. Money is fucking fake and people die due to greed.
This movie is sad. I felt for all the families in this movie. There are no good guys or bad guys, just people. People trying to live their lives. For me, this is the point. The Parks aren’t going to solve poverty. Ki-woo probably won’t get the money to free his dad. Moon-gwang and her husband are dead.
This movie critiques everyone. If the Kims had worked with Moon-gwang, they’d (might) still be living a cushy life. Mr. Park and Ki-jung wouldn’t be dead. Hell, they might’ve even gone home in time to close their window and hold down the toilet. The Parks' ignorance led to them getting conned and acquiring squatters. These are individuals in a fucked up system that propagates their mentalities.
Yes, I know this film is anti capitalist. I just hate economics.
Rating:
7.5/10
I wish the pacing was a little quicker since a good chunk of the movie is just the Kims getting their jobs. Besides that, I liked parasite. Great movie.
#mari’s rambles#parasite#parasite 2019#bong joon ho#ki taek#choong sook#ki-woo#ki-jung#da-hye#da-song#movie review#I'm sure there are grammar mistakes
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Plot relevant Fun but useless ☆ I have more to say if you want to know more
These are just in the order they're in on my account, I'm too lazy to sort these. Link to wiki on their names
Pure Vanilla Cookie ☆
Essentially cookie Jesus, through a lot of design motifs and plot points of his. King of one of the three main kingdoms, and sort of the leader of them. Lots of spoilers in his backstory so I won't get too into it
Dark Cacao Cookie
King of another of the three kingdoms. He's a powerful warrior, though after The Great War (tm) he isolates himself and focuses on protecting his kingdom. His son is one of the antagonists, though he disowned him after a couple murder attempts
Moonlight Cookie
Created to be a very powerful cookie by a group of wizards, who are kind of treated as gods. Moonlight Cookie outlived the wizards that made her, and is one of the only people living in their city still. She looks over the world of dreams. She also has a kinda-canon gf ♡ and an emo older brother
Black Pearl Cookie
Eldritch Abomination. It's estimated she's about one human tall (the other characters are normal gingerbread man sized). She likes drowning people and breaking things. Milf
Frost Queen Cookie
Kind of a bitch. Imagine any other ice queen. That's her
Stardust Cookie ☆
Moonlight's emo older brother. He was supposed to take on her role, originally, but the wizards considered him a failure and cast him out to die in the deep dark void of space. He had a brief villain arc, but he's chill now. Imagine Dabi with less fire
Sherbet Cookie
Works under Frost Queen Cookie after he was reincarnated as a spirit. Jack Frost RotG
Capsaicin Cookie
#GoTeamScovillia He looks like an asshole but he's just a himbo. I'm not done with the event story yet so I'm not positive on details, but he seems like he's had issues controlling his strength/fire magic in the past. Very confident and strong. He exists solely to show school spirit I'm happy for him
Clotted Cream Cookie
Polititian/ambassador for a neighboring kingdom that took in Vanillite refugees after The Great War (tm). I'm not done reading his stories either, but I hear he's a manipulative little shit. He's charming though so I like him anyway
Werewolf Cookie ☆
Unironically the only reason I started playing. Nobody but me cares about him. As the name implies, he's a werewolf, though he transforms whenever startled or upset instead of just under the full moon. He was shunned from his village after protecting a friend and is now very isolated and emo
Licorice Cookie ☆
One of the main antagonists. He's so fucking pathetic. He too was shunned from his village where he grew up in poverty. They hated him because he was only good at necromancy and sucked at literally everything else. Everyone bullies him constantly. He cries every time he loses a fight. The only people he gets along with are his nonbinary pets and his nonbinary child so I declare him trans by default. He is only evil because nobody else wants him. He helped form a kpop group specifically to fight BTS and then got beat up by BTS. You cannot imagine how lame he is /pos
Vampire Cookie ☆
He's lazy, he's an alcoholic, and his sister hates his ass
Red Velvet Cookie ☆
He is surrounded by dogs 24/7. He joined the antagonists at a very young age when the BBEG, Dark Enchantress Cookie, found him injured and took him in to presumably groom him. He has a prosthetic cake arm and a prosthetic eye, and his job is to breed and train dogs to fight for the villains. He has religious trauma. He was also in the kpop band
Cotton Cookie
Saved Sherbet Cookie from Frost Queen Cookie. She likes sheep
Pinecone Cookie
The Lorax but a baby and annoying
Prune Juice Cookie ☆
Similar backstory to Licorice Cookie, the only magic he's good at is potions so he got bitched at by his teachers and peers a lot. Competing against Capsaicin Cookie and another character that hasn't been released yet
Poison Mushroom Cookie ☆
Nonbinary twelve year old that loves drugs. They're also very fond of the other villains, and follow around Licorice Cookie. They're not even evil, they just love neurotoxins that much. Also in the kpop group
Sparkling Cookie
Sexy bartender
Herb Cookie
Plant mom. He's like if Basil Omori didn't need therapy and was an adult man
Squid Ink Cookie
Sad little octopus baby that can turn into an eldritch abomination
Cocoa Cookie
Loves hot chocolate and classical music
Milky Way Cookie
The ultimate failgirl of all time. She's the conductor of a dream train, and she follows zero rules, refuses to work, and messes up constantly. In a fun way though
Cream Unicorn Cookie
They can transform into a unicorn or a cookie/person. They really love an old abandoned amusement park
Purple Yam Cookie
I love him so much, why does he have to lowkey be a racist caricature. Despite all cookies coming from an oven, he freaks out about it constantly and is pissed that nobody else is upset about it
Pastry Cookie
Character foil of Red Velvet Cookie. She's a nun
Blueberry Pie Cookie
The only other resident of the wizards' city, alongside Moonlight Cookie. She keeps a library of ancient books which she refuses to leave
Pomegranate Cookie ☆
She's soso gay for Dark Enchantress Cookie. She used to be the high priestess of her village, but betrayed them to pursue evil after having a vision. Everyone hates her because she's a dick and a woman but I love her. Please observe her lesbianisms
Parfait Cookie
She's a little rockstar. I have no idea why she gets shipped with Licorice so much
Cream Puff Cookie
Baby witch and very bad at it
Wildberry Cookie
Hollyberry Cookie's personal assistant and body guard. He's very serious and I want to kiss him
Mala Sauce Cookie
Chief of the Mala Tribe. Also lowkey giving racist energy
Moon Rabbit Cookie
She loves rice cakes and can turn into a bunny
Macaron Cookie
Plays in parades and is followed by animals
Carol Cookie
She sings. She's a christmas tree. Cringe
Twizzly Gummy Cookie
Jinx LoL is that you??? She's a time and space criminal and she's fucking nuts
Pumpkin Pie Cookie ☆
She's like if Korekiyo was a weird little girl. Her dead sister is posessing a doll that talks to her and attacks people for her
Space Donut
A little alien that escaped imprisonment and befriended Stardust Cookie once his villain arc was over. They're besties now
Dark Choco Cookie
Emo edgelord and Dark Cacao's disowned son. He left his kingdom after being taken over by a cursed sword and joined the antagonists "because he deserved to suffer". After trying to kill his dad he left the antagonists and is now just emo in a peaceful kind of way
Mint Choco Cookie
Plays classical music
Almond Cookie
Cop
Crunchy Chip Cookie
Has Red Velvet Cookie's job except for the Chocolate Kingdom
Candy Diver Cookie
Autistic about the ocean. Nonverbal. Keeps finding underwater cryptids
Chili Pepper Cookie
One fifth of the main protagonists' party. She's only tagging along so she can find things to steal, and she's kind of a dick, but nostalgia helps her out I guess
Raspberry Cookie
Mean lesbian ♡ Competed to take over the Hollyberry Kingdom's throne, but came in second to its actual heir
Prophet Cookie
Why didn't they name him Fortune Cookie. Old prophet that gives you free money sometimes
Eclair Cookie
History buff. He runs the guild museum and teaches at the magic school
Tea Knight Cookie
Retired dragon-slayer
Cherry Blossom Cookie
Older sister to cherry cookie. She loves picnics
Madeleine Cookie
Self-centered and cocky paladin but I like him anyway for some reason
Mango Cookie
Loves infodumping about his home, the ocean, and his boat
Sorbet Shark Cookie
A shark given the ability to live with the cookies as a person by Black Pearl Cookie
Rye Cookie
Bounty hunter that especially hates Chili Pepper Cookie
Fig Cookie
Scottish forest spirit who I hate to hear talk. She's a centaur with the body of a deer
Tiger Lily Cookie
We have exited "kinda racist" territory I'm not even talking about this one
Black Raisin Cookie ☆
My emo wife ♡♡♡ Leader of an impoverished village Pure Vanilla Cookie took shelter in after The Great War (tm). She loves her village a lot and takes zero shit
Lilac Cookie
He's so fucking pretty. Master assassin and very good at dancing
Affogato Cookie
Manipulative advisor to Dark Cacao Cookie. He helped the antagonists attempt regicide so that he could take the throne, but it didn't work
Espresso Cookie
Teaches at the magic academy
Kumiho Cookie
A little fox that wants to be a cookie so badly she learned transformation magic. She loves flirting with people
Choco Werehound Brute ☆
A cake-dog that Licorice Cookie raised. It uses three sets of pronouns and has canonically dressed in drag as well as joining the kpop group from way up there ^^
Strawberry Crepe Cookie
A little girl that was left to live alone in the abandoned Vanilla Kingdom. She's very good at technology and robots, and joined the antagonists for a brief period
Snow Sugar Cookie
Elsa but nonbinary and less deep
Caramel Arrow Cookie
Faithful guard of the Chocolate Kingdom who was banished for trying to stop Affogato
Milk Cookie
White Knights everyone in the nicest way possible. Travels with Purple Yam
Captain Caviar Cookie
Sexy pirate dilf
Financier Cookie
Paladin that serves as Clotted Cream's bodyguard during travel
Latte Cookie
Yet another magic teacher
Devil Cookie
Exactly what you'd expect. Soda flavored for some reason
King Custard III
Little five year old in the main party. Very passionate about being a king someday, and looks up to Pure Vanilla Cookie
Pancake Cookie
Small child. Likes squirrels, acorns, and Poison Mushroom Cookie
Onion Cookie
She's a little baby. She got crushed by a chandelier, and now she's a sad little ghost
Clover Cookie
Bard that loves plants
Blackberry Cookie
Adventurer Cookie's maid, and the only one that can see Onion Cookie's ghost which she takes care of
Adventurer Cookie
Indiana Jones
Gumball Cookie
He's a graffiti artist and really loud about it
Avocado Cookie
Buff woman that loves puns
Carrot Cookie
Farmer
Knight Cookie
As the name implies, a knight, and Princess Cookie's personal guard
Alchemist Cookie
Vampire's brother. She specializes in chemistry
Cherry Cookie
Cherry Blossom's sister. Likes explosions
Princess Cookie
Hollyberry's grandaughter and rightful heir to the Hollyberry throne. She left her kingdom for a while to travel, but has been appointed as princess again
Wizard Cookie
Another of the main party. Despite looking old, apparently he's, like, twelve. Autistic about magic and wizards
Strawberry Cookie
The fourth member of the main party. Canonically a BTS fan and a fujoshi
Ninja Cookie
Ninja cookie,,,
Muscle Cookie
He enjoys working out
Gingerbrave
Despite being the main character, he is the blandest bitch here. He's a gingerbread man. That's it
Beet Cookie
Ranger/hunter
Angel Cookie
I hate her ass. She's just a normal angel
Hollyberry Cookie
Ex-queen of the Hollyberry Kingdom, and friends with Pure Vanilla and Dark Cacao. She also ran away from her kingdom for years on end. She has a drinking problem
Sea Fairy Cookie
Her entire character is that she's gay for Moonlight Cookie. I'm happy for her
Oyster Cookie
I have not met her in the story or unlocked her, but she's old and she's a politician, so she's probably a bitch
#hearth's mantle breakdowns#gamer hours#sorry half of these are so short#unless they get story relevance most of them are literally just one personality trait
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unpopular bleach opinion?
kubo really should have leaned into just how fucking grimdark the bleach universe is. unironically he should have made this a seinen instead of a shonen.
the regime controlling the afterlife is an authoritarian oligarchy with complete control of the military. millions are starving in the streets and poverty runs rampant in the outer rukon (which i wish we had seen more of, by the way). i find it very jarring that our protagonist ichigo is suddenly cool with that all because aizen shows up, even if he almost killed rukia in the process and nearly invalidated the entire reason the gang went to soul society in the first place.
which, let me remind you, i am not an aizen sympathizer. by the time ichigo showed up, aizen had already effectively won, and was running the entire central forty-six from behind the scenes after murdering all of them. but instead of continuing to rule from the shadows and be content with changing the system from within, he has to reveal that it was all part of his master plan, and that he plans on taking the throne, while making sure the spotlight is all on him. very altruistic of you, sosuke.
hollows have it really, really bad as well. it is explicitly shown that, even though hollows can hold a degree of sentience and even honor in some rare cases, hueco mundo is a hellhole. it is a barren wasteland where the only source of food is other sentient living beings, which hollows must consume, be it the souls of people in the living world, or their own kind.
and then we have the quincies. all of them are essentially manipulated by yhwach into becoming the perfect pawns for him to sacrifice one by one so that he can gain greater power and unite the realms of life and death. this, of course, includes literal eugenics programs as religious doctrine, and mass human sacrifice. reminder that every mixed quincy in the world died on the day kanae ishida and masaki kurosaki died, and yhwach carried it all out personally. yhwach's methods are utterly monstrous, and the society he created in the vandenreich is marked by a gigantic cult of personality surrounding him.
this is why i think we needed to see more of the world of bleach and how horrible everything is. there's an underlying message within the entire continuity of the manga of making the best of a shitty situation. yhwach and aizen both pursue change through violence, believing that the ends will justify any means that they use, no matter how vile. meanwhile, ichigo fights to protect the world, believing that there yet remains hope that it can be made better without resorting to those means. before i go further, yes, that's my personal interpretation of the series' core message (aizen's final monologue sums it up pretty nicely).
but we don't really have that sink in without a good, long look at the setting. most of the nuance of the setting is relegated to basically fridge horror, when it could have been right in our face for us to see and experience it firsthand.
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Trafalgar Square, Bloody Sunday, Rebellion, Moriarty the Patriot, and The Phantom of Whitechapel
Ok. I think I have finally figured out Bloody Sunday. The wikipedia article is honestly kind of atrocious. I want to update it to be honest. Maybe I'll try when I get done with this 🤷♂️
(Long post, etc)
Part 1: Historical Context & Sources
The good source is JSTOR (not the one by Theresa Moriarty, that ended up only really mentioning Bloody Sunday in passing as it related to someone's biography, although I will add it to the list.) Here... have MLA I don't care, you probably really want the link.
Andy Love. “Centenary of Bloody Sunday.” History Workshop, no. 26, 1988, pp. 211–12. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/4288877. Accessed 12 Mar. 2023.
If you don't have access to JSTOR this website says similar things, and also claims to cite primary sources. I'm not familiar with the domain though, so take that as you will: https://spartacus-educational.com/TUbloody.htm
Moriarty, Theresa. “Labour Lives, No. 13: May (Abraham) Tennant, 1869-1946.” Saothar, vol. 36, 2011, pp. 99–101. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23200051. Accessed 12 Mar. 2023.
Alright, that out of the way, basically, Bloody Sunday and Trafalgar Square refer to a mass protest by laborers that was met with (brutal) police and military suppression, resulting in continued protests. A group of aligned labor groups had chosen the square, symbolic of the meeting of London's East and West Ends, as a place to protest poor working conditions and low wages.
In addition to the Socialist Democratic Federation, which is discussed at length in (2), the following organizations were present/organizing the attendees at the square: The Socialist League and the unemployed, the Trade Union, and "radical groups." (1) A march was planned, where speakers would address the crowd, and they would make demands. The crowd instead was met by both the military and the police, who fought back brutally, at least according to one of the leaders of the movement, Williams Morris.
Following the events in the square, another prominent leader of the labor rights movement that hadn't been present at the march was run down and killed, sparking further protest over his funeral.
Finally, I want to quote this paragraph from (3) about Bloody Sunday, tying the Jack the Ripper murders to a larger sociopolitical labor rights movement:
"Police brutality in Trafalgar Square in November 1887 brought out thousands to the funeral parades that followed, and embedded 'Bloody Sunday' into the language of public political protest. In the summer of 1888, young Bryant & May women match workers in east London brought their defiant solidarity against their low pay and their hazardous work to the pavements of Westminster. By autumn Whitechapel women walked their neighborhood in fear and public fascination, when 'Jack the Ripper' exposed the lives of their sisters in poverty. London's political culture was being transformed through social concern and sensation..." (3)
Essentially, because of the Jack the Ripper killings, prostitutes now had a reason to join with other women laborers in solidarity-- or at least their concerns have academically been connected; I'm definitely not an expert and I feel like I've done more than enough academic research for someone who is months away from having graduated college 10 years ago and works in fucking retail.
Hopefully that's enough context.
Now, how does this inform my reading of The Phantom of Whitechapel and Moriarty the Patriot?
Part 2: Moriarty the Patriot's Plot
So, remember, in Moriarty the Patriot, the Jack the Ripper killings were being done by organized criminals to spur on a revolution. They want the proletariat to rise up and they aren't afraid to use people they view as inhuman to trigger it.
William sees this right away. After all, other than the fact that he (mostly) doesn't use the underprivileged as bait and pawns, he's doing the same thing. The sensational murders are just somebody else's play.
But, what's truly interesting is the bottom panel, where William brings up something that the Yard had been concerned about earlier:
The Yard might think the Vigilance Committee is the mastermind, instead of this unnamed criminal force, but regardless, William and the Yard are indeed thinking along the same lines. The clash between poor citizens and the police is bringing back memories of another recent clash. It's happening again.
Clearly, the Yard doesn't want to deal with armed rebellion. Their job is to stop it. And the politicians of the time (real life too...(1) and (2)) are exactly with the Yard. They don't want to make concessions or make leeway for commoners, they don't care if conditions improve, and they don't care if they prevent the right to protest in the meanwhile.
Lestrade is right about there being forces above the Yard breathing down the commissioner's neck.
But William... what he's looking at is the way the agitation is taking place. The murders are public, with letters to the press, etc, to create hysteria, and to create the conditions where the people of Whitechapel are confronted with the fact that the people in power are not caring for them. The Yard doesn't care how many prostitutes die. How many citizens in Whitechapel die. They've specifically made disarming the Vigilance Committee their goal.
That's true regardless, and by killing people that are powerless, it becomes exceptionally clear to the populace. They will rise up against the police that fight them instead of protecting them. The revolution will happen.
I want to claim that this cell of agitators is acting disingenuously, but it's only apparent from the text that they don't value all people evenly.
Whatever reason it is they seek proletariat revolution, it's clear they are not ideologically Marxists.
"Dregs of society" "All we did was eliminate some whores." "Society's rubbish." "With coin they'll follow you anywhere." "Worthless." "Meager."
How can anyone leading a proletariat revolution say or believe these things?
"The strong devour the weak" is Machiavellian, not Marxist.
To make it even more personal, William and Louis grew up in Whitechapel. The abandoned library has been taken down, but it was fucking RIGHT HERE.
This group must be culled.
Part 3: My Conclusions
Personally, I read that these men are trying to stir up revolution as a way to gain power. Right now they don't have a lot, and if they control when and how a revolution happens, they can come out on top in the end.
it's clear that they aren't interested in actually changing the status quo, with the strong on top and the weak on bottom. They also aren't actually interested in people's fates.
What does that mean for the plotline and what is being said about Bloody Sunday?
So, obviously this isn't in alignment to the Moriarty Plan, because outside of the one man that Lord Enders murdered and ended up being the centerfold of the act on the Noahtic, we don't really see William using anyone who hasn't already pledged their life to his ideals (and he even tries to respect the dead bodies he uses to the best of his ability). We get a strong stance against it, while having a more "pure" movement being put forward by William et al.
The differences I see are namely: a) consent: most people dying for William's plan have chosen to give their lives to the cause b) respect: William views all people as people and c) punching up instead of down: the people who don't consent to dying for William's plan deserved it. They weren't just stupid, or worthless, or the dredges of society. They were committing crimes against humanity and getting away with it.
But... if these people did do this, and it did incite revolution, and William hadn't stopped it... would it be so bad?
William wouldn't join hands with them. But in a thought experiment where he did, or he didn't exist, what would happen?
A story on NPR recently was talking about how to predict when a populist uprising will happen, and how to tell how successful it will be. This kind of cell, the kind of cell that will gain power from the revolt, the kind of politicians that are the voices of protest, regardless of how corrupt they are... the positioning of these people is basically the strongest predictor of a revolt's success.
So sure, these guys are assholes. But they probably would have succeeded. They would have used the few to create revolution, just as Moriarty does.
To what extent would our world care about the methodology used? To what extent do those differences make a difference? Are the few still not sacrificed for the many? Are the remaining people not better off in the end?
The most informative article about Bloody Sunday was a commemoration of the centennial of the protest. Nothing in the sources I found looked back poorly upon the agitators fighting for labor rights at the time.
I don't think that would change even if these events actually had happened.
And, since William plans to die at the end, take his whole cell with him... what is to say that that someone like this group couldn't still take advantage of his plan to gain power?
Sure, these guys are dead now. But surely they aren't the only ones?
#long post#moriarty the patriot#i have more questions than answers#the moriarty plan is met with so many interesting similar plans throughout the series#also... its interesting because while the manga is ostensibly about class struggle these guys aren't seen as patriots#ever#not like the conservative guy who resists the war in Afghanistan ending because he sees it as a way to maintain Brittain's colonial might#whose only crime was 'not wiling to die for the cause'#EVEN THOUGH HE FUCKING SACRIFICED SOLDIERS. MORAN'S FRIENDS#i have to see how the yard politics play out later#im exhausted#its 1:30am#but yeah... the actual real life events of Bloody Sunday definitely really lean into the themes of the manga and add a lot to think about
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Critical Reread - ACOTAR Chapter 4
Join me on a reread of A Court of Thorns and Roses
Chapter 4
Feyre meets a beast.
“The beast had to be as large as a horse, and while his body was somewhat feline, his head was distinctly wolfish. I didn’t know what to make of the curled, elk-like horns that protruded from his head. But lion or hound or elk, there was no doubting the damage his black, daggerlike claws and yellow fangs could inflict.”
I'll be honest I just kind of pictured a blur of beast-like features for Tamlin's beast form, but now that I'm looking at some fan art I get the idea of what she was going for much better. Do we get better descriptions later?
“But it was another word that echoed through me:
Faerie.”
I'm curious why she thinks this when she didn't note anything about Andras? Maybe Tamlin's unleashed his power and she can just feel it? Is there a distinction between faeries and other magical creatures or is Faerie shorthand for all of magical kind?
“I had vague memories of being read the Treaty during my childhood lessons, but could recall nothing about wolves.”
I just think the humans would have this treaty top of mind if they live on the border and are terrified of the fae. Wouldn't it be really important that everyone uphold the treaty, so the fae don't have reason to retaliate?
“He blinked and glanced at my sisters, then back at me, at my thinness—no doubt seeing only frailness instead. “Surely you lie to save them.”
Come on Tim Tam. Of course it's the girl who just tried to stab you and is now bargaining with you. Not one of the three people huddled in the corner crying.
“Not me, because Nesta had always known and hated that she and I were two sides of the same coin, and that I could fight my own battles.”
I think this line gives us another hint that Feyre doesn't see herself as a perfect angel that can do no wrong, even if that's what the narrative is more or less telling us. She believes she has the same capacity for awfulness that her sister does. I would like to see more of that though.
“Most of you mortals have chosen to forget that part of the Treaty,” he said, “which makes punishing you far more enjoyable.”
Why are mortals in this world so dumb?!? You should definitely remember the parts of the treaty that can get you killed.
“You murdered my friend,” the beast snarled. “Murdered him, skinned his corpse, sold it at the market, and then said he deserved it, and yet you have the nerve to question my generosity?” How typically human, he seemed to silently add.”
I don't think kidnapping someone is particularly generous.
“Faeries couldn’t lie, but they could omit information.”
Literally the third time this chapter that we are told faeries can't lie. That definitely means it's true, right?
“But in going with him, I would be breaking the most important promise I’d ever made. Surely it trumped an ancient treaty that I hadn’t even signed.”
Come on Feyre, that's not how political treaties work.
“Whatever you do,” I said quietly, “don’t marry Tomas Mandray. His father beats his wife, and none of his sons do anything to stop it.” Nesta’s eyes widened, but I added, “Bruises are harder to conceal than poverty.”
She really could have told Nesta that sooner.
“You were always too good for here, Feyre. Too good for us, too good for everyone.” He squeezed my hands. “If you ever escape, ever convince them that you’ve paid the debt, don’t return.”
She's certainly too good for her family, but it's interesting that he says she's too good "for here" when she seems to fit in there best of all of them and likely would not be happy with a high society lifestyle.
“You go somewhere new—and you make a name for yourself.”
And she really fucking does.
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This is, like, 98% vent so take the usual precautions and etiquette on that.
Like, so, I’ve had a hard week. I’ve had a very very hard week even for me. I lost my whole entire voice, I had an evening so awful it was comical, my best friend had his very nice expensive desktop computer get shorted out and his dog badly mauled by an off leash beast, and my sibling straight up had to endure dramatically unexpected gun violence.
So it was.... it was very not good. I literally think it’s been more than five years since I actually became nonverbal, much less for more than a full day. But I am, keep in mind, a mentor for a group of underprivileged trans youth. Yes, I live in poverty, so do they. I make a pretty good mentor. I know the kinds of shit that the cis lady leading the group straight up never would have considered.
Case in point, we’re not quite a full year strong but I’ve watched my kids grow up, I really really have. It’s magical. I would take a bullet for any one of the kids. One of them is straight up by baby brother now and the second I see him post COVID I’m pretty sure I will cry and cry and cry and maybe we can hug. But this week the focus was Pride. And, y’all, apparently the basic understanding of Pride is kinda rough.
Like, okay, yeah, Stonewall. And God and Jesus and All The Little Baby Angels bless and sing to Marsha P. Johnson. But that’s not the end, that’s the start. It’s so wild to me that Stonewall is like, “And that’s the story of queer pride. The end.”
Babes and Elders, Friends and Enemies, Autists and The Less Fortunate, Gentlefolk and Ungentlefolk, I am not that fucking old at all. But I remember the brutal murders of Brandon Teena and Matthew Shepard being subject to humiliating jokes. It’s what I grew up with. My first understanding of ‘gay’ was that it killed you, painfully and horribly but for some reason that was okay and no one minded too much. It was even meant to be funny most of the time. I grew up at the tail end of a mass death, when RENT premiered (stage show, not movie) I was 7 and AZT was the best you could possibly hope for.
Now we have PrEP and AIDS isn’t a death sentence, we even talk about it now like a mildly more scandalous STD than the usual ones instead of.... well, like it was talked about in RENT. Death. Just death. And gay used to mean AIDS so gay was uncompromising slow death. Gay was prostitution and drugs and death.
Like, it’s very hard to articulate how different it was just twenty years ago. I even smiled at my daddy once and said, “I don’t have to tell you how I voted, but I will tell you that people who vote how you do drag people like me behind trucks.” That was the only time I can remember shutting him up in an argument, he couldn’t pivot, he tried a little with “I never” and I was immediately, “No, say I’m wrong and we’ll have a conversation.” so he just.... walked away. It was the most honest he ever was in acknowledging that, yeah, I was extremely brave. I was willing to die and he wasn’t willing to protect me. It was the bravest I’ve ever felt in my life.
And I am still, as I said, very young. I come from a third world region of an allegedly first world country. (I can get into the racist implications of that but this is a vent post so I’m not going to dissect everything.) So my experience? Still magical and impossible. Having to shove away earnest lesbians even though RadFems assured me I was just a closeted lesbian and only men had this and it was called autogynophillia and was a fetish. I only craved male power and was nervous about being with girls. I was not, they were wrong, but the idea of maybe if I date girls I’ll be normal and safe in 2003 is way way way past anything a bitsy baby transman would guess at in 1983. The way progress marches is not.... not easy to follow.
I didn’t expect to be a queer educator. I didn’t plan to be an ‘’’expert’’’ but now I am because I hear things like, “Maybe putting out all those pride flags is baiting a bear with the man who keeps threatening to kill you” and my whole self leaps out with, “That was wrong what this woman I trust said. You have to make a choice, sure, and I will not tell you which is wrong and which is right but Pride has never been about being quiet and meek and trying not to be bothered. I’m not going to tell you to keep fighting or to do anything you don’t want to, but I will say that Pride is emphatically not about keeping yourself safe. If you want to stand up then I support you, if you want to keep yourself safe I support you. Because the road to where we are right now? It is covered in the spilled blood of martyrs and I would never ask you to do that, never ask anyone to, but I would also never ever tell you to back down and be safe. Stonewall wasn’t safe.”
And, that’s crazy, right? Telling a kid that we do stand on the shoulders of giants, but those giants did not live to see today? Like, Harvey Milk (who I did not get into) wasn’t shot because he was too good at politics. Some people are alive now, some, a few, a small number. I am one of the youngest somehow, one of the younger of the older generation which is wild to me, impossible. Like, if you’re maybe 40 at the most then you’re the first of the ones that didn’t face The Dying Times, which means the people who dealt with the shit from Stonewall and the following horrors are just.... just gone.
I was stunned this kids didn’t realize the actual genocide made of purposeful neglect had even... even occurred. It was disturbing. I cannot remember the actual square on the quilt, so if you find it then thank you, but it was roughly “I am 19 and will be dead in three months. That’s very sad.”
I’s just, Christ, maybe we need to do a little better education? Maybe a little more on the why of how now came to be? On why Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was revolutionary, on how “In 1960 49 states had anti-sodomy laws criminalizing homosexuality” ignores that in 2015 plenty of states still had those laws on the books? It’s frustrating, is all, it’s very frustrating.
#this is so very clearly a personal post#painfully so#if you want to take bits then ask me and i will likely say yes#if you want to argue then first of all do not and second of all message me#this is obviously not for reblogging#again dog mauled#voice gone#week bad#i do not need a hard fucking time#if you give me one then okay?#i guess i'll deal with that#but like maybe don't?#i'll even put things together more cleanly and articulately if you ask
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Gonna get on my Australian politics for a minute here, but the entire media narrative irt That Shooting and how anti-authoritarians are responsible for it is actually getting kinda ridiculous.
But firstly, lemme just express my sympathy for those two fresh outta the academy cops and the innocent old man who died at the hands of these legitimate lunatics. Because I ain’t defending that. What I’m complaining about is the inaccuracy and disingenuity of laying the blame for this sorry situation (and every other sorry situation of the past couple years) squarely at the feet of anti-authoritarianism.
There is good fucking reason to have a healthy dose of anti-authoritarianism in this country. Increasingly over the last decade our government have be doing some very shady things and quietly bringing in a lot of very invasive laws. For example:
The Greenfields Foundation and all the subsequent fake charities whose sole purpose is to funnel Australia tax-payer dollars directly into the bank accounts of politicians
That time Australia withdrew from widely ratified international treaties so it could take East Timor hostage for its oil fields, and even went so far as to plant listening devices in the East Timor Prime Minister’s office, and when one of Australia’s spies snitched to the East Timor PM about it (bc apparently that was too evil even for an ASIS spy), instead of showing any remorse Australian authorities aggressively pursued that spy and his legal team, even raiding their offices and homes so they could destroy evidence
The ongoing situation where people who are assessed to have incapacity irt their finances (which is often a very flimsy assessment in itself) have their estates taken over by the Public Trustee who then force these unfortunate souls to live in poverty while the government frivolously spends their money, banning them or anyone else from speaking publicly on it, and ignoring/deliberately making it difficult to prove return to capacity
The entire Robodebt Scandal wherein people forced to live in the abject poverty afforded by welfare payments were then deliberately shackled with fake debts by authorities and forced to pay money they did not in fact owe on pain of jail time, a lot of people (myself included) still have not been released from these fake debts
Speaking of arbitrary jail time for Robodebt victims, statistics show that women are twice as likely to be jailed for ‘welfare fraud’ than men and that the ‘welfare crackdown’ (aka the Robodebt Scandal) is pretty much solely responsible for the huge inflation in Australia’s female prisoner population
The continuing wrongful imprisonment of Kathleen Folbigg who was falsely accused of killing her four children and is now halfway through a forty year jail sentence with no signs of authorities intending to release her, despite evidence having since proven her children died of natural causes
And what about the new and extensive laws which punish ‘unauthorised protesting’ with YEARS in jail, especially if any coal mining companies were inconvenienced
That time an Australian politician got upset when a comedian made some jokes about him so he had plain clothes federal police abduct said comedian from his home, assault his mother and his dog in the process, load him into a black car and drive off, and this was all perfectly legal and actually the politician then went on to successfully sue this comedian for defamation
*not an exhaustive list, there’s definitely more
So, as you can see, there is plenty reason to be questioning the Australian government. And yet the primary narrative irt this shooting and any other situation that might make authorities look bad is to blame it on the conveniently faceless boogeyman of ‘crazy extremist anti-authoritarian anti-vaxxer right-wing conspiracy theorists from the US’. Despite that being such a fantastical mash-up of conflicting ideologies, that’s what the media are going with for a strawman (probably at the behest of the government who in fact can utilise gag laws and imprison journalists who don’t comply).
Without free and open journalism to offer critical insight into how Australian authorities are at fault and could do better you get other explanations gaining traction. And, for certain demographics, these other explanations can seem more believable than the government-approved message. These are demographics who are often from low socio-economic backgrounds (most people living in those Tara bush blocks are living in poverty), are from First Nations backgrounds (the offenders had Aboriginal heritage), are extremely disenfranchised women (Stacey Train was being abused by the male offenders), or otherwise from various vulnerable demographics, aka the usual choice of punching bag for a government whose apparent sole purpose is to move money from poor people to rich people. These are people who know something isn’t right, have maybe already been victims of the government, but perhaps don’t have the education or resources to form an accurate critical opinion. So instead their opinion is ‘I can just not pay my traffic fines and violently defend my land because subsection SovCit of the US Constitution applies in Australia’ or whatever other crazy shit (which tbh as crazy as some of this shit is, the government cover stories are often even crazier, hence why we got articles about anyone without a sewerage connection being sus)
So when the Australian government has displayed such an obvious lack of transparency, when they keep making mistakes and trying to cover them up, and even when they can no longer hide they don’t show any remorse, no matter how blatantly evil the shit they’ve done is, then you can see why their favourite demographic of underdog punching bags might develop some reactionary views.
In any case, I think rather than trying to turn anyone questioning the Australian government into the new societal pariahs, a better use of journalist resources would be to seriously consider questions like:
a) how were authorities not aware of previous government employees, who posted frequently about their violent views, and who had been reported to police multiple times
b) what truth is their to the accusation that police had been ‘casing the joint out’, which probably resulted in the Trains deciding to fortify their property
c) who made the decision to send two rookie cops into a ‘routine’ missing persons check (as if there is such a thing lmao)
d) why are Australian authorities trying to purchase the property this took place on, and don’t tell me it’s gonna be a ‘beauty spa for stressed coppers’ when it’s surrounded on all sides by similarly anti-authoritarian preppers
e) and while we’re questioning the government why don’t we start asking these type of questions BEFORE people start dying, not after, whether that’s irt police shootings or robodebt victims who committed suicide, or people dying of starvation in East Timor as a result of our government’s actions, or people rotting in prison cells despite being innocent, etc, etc, etc
Anyway, call me a right-wing anti-authoritarian conspiracy nutjob, I guess. But imo the Australian authorities are just as responsible for this situation as any ‘crazy hillbillys’, and if they actually stopped for a moment to consider putting the welfare of the Australian people before their profits then this and plenty of other bullshit might not have happened.
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You know I never saw anything relating to this series but what are your thoughts on Iron Blooded Orphans?
HOOOO BOY. places my hands on the table
(Sorry that I cant put this into a readmore bc Im on mobile;;)
I fucking hate it. Like honest to god it was so disappointing and depressing that I didnt even finish it (I do know how it ends and it doesnt make it any better). I literally never shut up about this but I'll never not be mad that it had the most beautiful ost and animation and the coolest worldbuilding (the whole story about the colonization of Mars and the poverty of those who lived there, the set up of an army of child soldiers who couldn't read, even the alaya-vijnana system??? All of it creative and so full of potential) and then they made the story shit
Why is it shit to me? The fact that it's just straight up suffering porn. I'm no stranger to sad gundam I have watched almost 40 years of gundam content in the last 3 or 4 years, I have cried my share and I know gundam is well known for being tragic. But IBO? Nooo IBO had to be sad as shit and it gives just little morsels of joy that it immediately kills off, literally. So instead of the theme of gundam, which is about human beings learning to understand each other to leave behind armed conflict, IBO is just like. Hey we're just gonna kill all the characters you like for pure shock value bc wr don't know how to writr
Another reason was the characters. A huge thing in gundam is that characters aren't good or bad except in a few specific instances because it's, well, war, and we're often made to confront the antagonists as people, flawed but also human and it's not that hard to even relate to them because of it. But IBO antagonists were straight up disgusting. The main antagonist was a literal pedophile, his best friend and all their army treated the people from Mars as literal rats. They were openly contemptuous of them for being children, for being POOR and for being disabled too. Like their only motivation is to squash everything that the story had that brought joy
Not even gonna get into how it really said "we're gonna drive in the point that children, women and the poor and disabled are the first and most affected victims of war and systematic economic oppression by showing children, women, the poor and the disabled explicitly suffering just because". Like the destruction of the Turbines and the deaths of Lafter were just. For the sake of hurting the viewers. There's none of the nuance you'd usually get in gundam, just outrage and no catharsis
And don't get me started on Mikazuki? People talk mad shit about Kira not having a personality (which to be fair, besides "fucking other ppl's girlfriends", he doesn't) but Mika's ENTIRE FUCKING PERSONALITY was being an enabler to Orca. He had potential too (I liked that he wanted to learn how to read! That was genuinely wholesome) but they had to just. Not do anything with it. Before you come to me and tell me Setsuna also had a serious, aloof personality🍰, allow me to remind you that Setsuna was traumatized, he was flawed, he was also impulsive and angry. Mikazuki had 2 modes, Orca and Horny.
ANYWAY I have more thoughts but I think that's the gist of it.
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This post I'm gonna rambling about internal politics. You can scroll pass. No hard feeling. I just don't want to do it on my Facebook because it's gonna be drama for sure, some mutual friends don't like stuff like this and I'm lazy to pick names that I don't want them to see.
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Well. Taylor Swift was about to tour on her Red album when I was in University. Me, as one of her fans, had saved my allowance for a ticket, since she has never come to my country. That was the first time.
But then, boooooooooooooom, fuckin coup d'état. 13th time since 1932; the year that my country changed the regime - from absolute monarchy to democracy. She cancled the tour.
Now 9 years after the coup d'état, finally the general election was holden, the left liberal party wins the election. The Prime Minister-to-be, from people's consensus (including me), comments on Taylor's twitter. He persuades her to come to my country for tour again. We, people, are with him. Because the shitty head nowaday and about to fall from power Prime Minister never does something like this, guess what? It (I don't see this garbage as human anymore) can't speak English! It has just known how to use Google! Claming that it can play Facebook. But I don't believe and buy this 'fact'. When porks' prices were raising, it told people to eat chicken instead! Sound familiar? Yeah. But it was on every tv chanels. We can strongly prove its word as real shit, more real than Marie Antoinette's which we might or might not know she was really saying it. And it also tells people to be thrifty, while it and its fellows have lunches at 5 stars hotels, just like Oscar Wilde's quote; "To recommend thrift to the poor is both grotesque and insulting. It is like advising a man who is starving to eat less."
Okay, let's get back to main subject. Our Prime Minister-to-be, from people's consensus, persuades Taylor Swift to come for concert in the country. We people do not oppose, since we haven't gone for the western artists' concerts for 9 years. But one ignorance and dictators' supporter who is happening to be an artist - 'modern folk for life' genre - opposes with hatred and narrow mind. His reason is uselesss so I'm not gonna type them here. The problem is not only he supports dictatorships, I used to admire him, listening to his songs which talking about what working people must face everyday. But now, he absolutely loses my respect. He finally shows his true colours. He is just 'acting'. He is rich and never live a hard and poverty life. So, who is he? This is not democratical opinion. He assaults the Prime Minister-to-be with irrational and illogical.
I should stop here before I roast another influencers and artists who support dictatorships. I used to spend half a day roasting them with my friends.
And in conclude, I just want my country developing forward. Not backward. If they wanna live in the 'beautiful past', just stop dragging almost entire people to go with you. We want good fucking lives and consist with present world.
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Hi could we please get a really angsty fic with nikolai (with a happy ending pls) where reader and he has had a fight so they maintain the facade on the outside bc they're royals but in private it's just ignoring each other/angst?
Young Royals
A/N: ahh, this is angsty alright but it seems I'm only capable of writing hurt/comfort lately. This took a life of its own and it's long af but I hope you like it anyway x
Warnings: miscommunication, angst, fighting, hurt/comfort, Nikolai is a bit absent, you're a bit jealous of his relationship with Zoya
Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep,@lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld,@thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020,@partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces (tag list form)
SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST
"Do not put words into my mouth, Nikolai."
"Please, you already have so many, my love," he scoffed and the use of the term of endearment hurt the most.
"You're making me sound like a brat while I'm providing you with a viable solution," you insisted with a flare of your hands, frustrated by his unwillingness to listen to you.
"No, you're not. What you're doing is being childish."
"I'm your queen, Nikolai. I'm only asking to be more involved."
"You're my wife, y/n, and you know nothing about politics or running a country." He retired, putting emphasis on wife. This felt a lot like being put into place. And the fact that it was your husband doing so, hurt. It was also the most you had seen him this week.
"Neither did Zoya, nor Genya or anyone who's currently running the country."
"That's different and you know it."
"Only because you're making it so," you exclaimed finally exploding. His despondency got on your nerves and this conversation was going nowhere anyway.
Surprised by your raise of voice, Nikolai stood before you just blinking at you.
Sighing, you took a step toward him, holding your hands up, "look, you're right, I don't know about running a country but teach me. I'm not stupid, I'll pick it up."
"Why are you insisting so much? You've never shown any interest in politics before." He gave you a puzzled look like he didn't really believe your intentions.
"I've never wanted to be queen before." before meeting you.
"Ah, I see," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I put you in this situation and now you're taking your revenge."
To insinuate that your marriage with him was you "being put into a situation" rather than a consensual decision you had made out of love was absurd.
Nikolai was right. You had never cared about politics or diplomacy before meeting him. You were a soldier. There was no reason for you to meddle with something that didn't concern you.
But now you were queen and you felt a responsibility towards your people. You wanted to help but so far, Nikolai hadn't allowed you to take part in any meetings. He said that anyone who needed to be there was already involved. What he didn't tell you was that while Grisha made excellent soldiers and even good councillors, one of them being a royal was a very different matter.
He had indulged his love for you by marrying you. You were his vice and he simply couldn't accept the idea of being without you anymore. He had married you, consequently making you queen, going against what his advisors told him.
While he ignored his warnings he was painfully aware, however, how difficult it was going to be for a Grisha on the throne. It was the first time something liked this had ever happened and unfortunately, the country was filled with people who resented Grisha for their powers.
Nikolai feared that the people were never going to accept you. Hence why he'd been keeping you secluded in the palace.
To be fair, you were doing a wonderful job. Like he had pointed out, you were not accustomed to politics but you made up for that with empathy and kindness. You started to interest yourself with the problem of poverty and lack of provisions for some parts of the country.
And while no one was aware of it, Nikolai often turned to you for military strategy. You were an apt soldier and had fought bravely alongside him and everyone else in the battle of the Fold. You were the very reason why he was still alive, to be honest.
While this arrangement worked for the first months of your reign, it was starting to feel an inadequate effort. You needed to do more, you wanted to do more. You didn't expect Nikolai to oppose it so vehemently.
"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be, Nikolai, you'd do well to remember it," you pointed out coldly, straightening your spine.
"Since you seem so adverse at spending time with me or including me in important matters, I'll find someone else who will." And with that, chin held high, you walked out of the room.
You missed him. It felt absurd to say this but you missed your husband. He was always busy with meetings or official visits to some noble across the country. For most of them, he went alone or with Zoya.
You knew that she was his first in command but you couldn't help but be bothered by it. It was one thing to accept the fact that he hadn't given the role to you "because the queen cannot have that role as well", it was a whole other thing to accept the fact that another woman spent more time with your husband than you did.
Countless were the fights you had with him in this regard. But they were pointless. Nikolai was still set on not bringing you and he and Zoya were always found together.
You didn't know what hurt more. The blow at your pride for being denied a position you deserved because of who you loved, the jealousy or being punished for your identity.
One thing was sure though, it was getting too much. At first, you pulled thought for Nikolai but now that you didn't have him anymore, your efforts seemed to be in vain.
So, like you had told Nikolai, you looked for someone who was willing to teach you. You wanted to help and if Nikolai wasn't going to let you here at the palace, then you'd find somewhere else.
Count Kirigin had always been nice to you and he was a very generous host. You knew that he played a central role in Nikolai's plan so you thought that there was no one better than him.
You reached out to him, wrote him a letter in which you showed interest in his activity and asked him if he was willing to show you. Of course, anything that came from the queen or the king couldn't be denied but you knew that the Count truly enjoyed your company. If your position didn't put so much higher than everybody else, you'd even consider him a friend.
You waited for his reply before putting in motion the preparations for your departure.
In the meantime, you and Nikolai kept conducting your separate lives. Usually, you'd only see him at night when he returned to your chambers if you were still up. Now, you had decided to sleep in separate rooms too.
If he wanted a wife, then a wife he'd get. But kings and queens do not sleep together.
If the new arrangement was bothering him, you didn't know. He hadn't reached out to you nor made any move to rectify your decision.
Turns out that he wasn't even at the Palace. He had left for a mission near the border with Shu Han and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Well, then. Of course, he didn't even bother with telling you. Not even a small note.
Jokes on him though, you thought, since when he was going to come back, he'd finally get what he wanted. You weren't going to be there to bother him anymore.
Differently from him though, you did indeed left him a note. Nikolai found it a week after you had set it on his pillow. Its presence made him furrow his eyebrows since he had already been wondering where you were. You usually came out to meet him at the gates whenever he'd come back from a mission and even though you had fought before he went away, you weren't one for holding grudges. So e guessed there was something holding you.
Unfolding the paper he was met with your familiar chaotic writing.
"I don't know when you're going to find this letter but if I'm not there yet it means that I'm still at Count Kirigin's. Do not bother with writing or visiting, I'll come back when my business with him is done.
Y/n"
What in the name of every sweet loving saint???
The letter wasn't dated, no dear, no yours no nothing. Fuck. You were still mad or worse, hurt.
Asking one of the servants, he learned that you had been away for a week already. But what business could you possibly have with the Count??
Nikolai had nothing against him. Seeing Kirigin get all flustered as he tried to flirt with Zoya amused him to no end but the idea of him and you in the same house? Alone?? Unacceptable.
Not even bothering to change clothes after his long journey, Nikolai headed to the stables to ask for a well-rested horse. Luckily, Count Kirigin's estate was not too far away. A couple of hours ride.
Turns out that the Count had a lot to teach. Despite his aloof reputation and extravagant clothes, he was very observant. He lacked ambition, which was why Nikolai trusted him and had a curious way of behaving in social situations.
But Emil had been born and raised in high society. He knew how things were run even if he had no desire to be in charge of them.
So far, you'd be having a wonderful time. Emil was a wonderful host, as you remembered, but without Nikolai's presence, he was even more extravagant. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humour and a never-ending list of jokes.
Being in the open and in the company of someone who saw y/n instead of the Queen of Ravka proved to be even more needed than you thought. You felt reinvigorated and much lighter than you'd ever been.
You had also been learning a lot. Emil had been teaching you about diplomacy. About the best ways of formulating a sentence so that you wouldn't offend anyone but still get what you wanted. He had also been talking to you about your husband's ministers. About their weaknesses and vices and what was the best way to approach them to get what you wanted.
So far, it was proving to be a wonderful decision to come here.
Whenever your mind strayed on Nikolai, you willed it to focus on something else. You didn't know if he had already come home or seen the letter. A part of you thought that if he had, he would at least write one back. But the thought felt a lot like hope and seeing as how little he saw you even before you left, you didn't think it safe to harbour it.
When Nikolai reached the estate, he was met with Kirigin's servants. They welcomed him inside and profusely apologised for the Count's absence. They told him that at this time of the day, Kirigin and his guest would usually go out on a ride but that they were also about to return.
So Nikolai waited, sitting in the most comfortable chair the Count owned, fuming at the thought that his wife had felt the need to go away and be in the company of another man.
"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be Nikolai. You'd do well to remember it."
Your words haunted him. They were the last thing that you told him. How stupid had he been to let you walk away. How utterly careless of him to disregard you like that.
He had promised himself to truly talk to you about it once this pressing matter of state was taken care of. Apparently, he had waited too long.
But Nikolai knew that the problem was at the source. He noticed how hurt you had been when he made Zoya his first in command. Or how sad you seemed everywhere he went somewhere with her and didn't ask you to join.
He was doing so to protect you from the inevitable slander you'd be met with. He should have known though that putting you aside was going to be even worse. You were a fighter just as much as Zoya was, if not stronger.
She hid behind her veil of indifference and superiority while you had never lost that emphatic verve that made everyone love you so much. In his attempt to make you safe, he had only managed to hurt you.
You were a warrior. You had accepted the role of queen only because it was the only way for you to be with Nikolai. And instead of praising you by making you a warrior queen, he had decided to hide you away.
Well, no more.
If his mistakes had not ruined everything already, he was going to make everything better.
Lost in his musing, he didn't hear the sound of hooves approaching but he did indeed hear your laugh. It immediately brought him back to the present and a wave of ugly jealousy hit him.
He couldn't remember the last time he made you laugh.
"I shouldn't even laugh Emil, the joke was terrible," Nikolai hear you giggling from somewhere in the hall. So now he was Emil, huh.
"You know you can't resist my charm, your highness," Emil replied and Nikolai had to call on every bit of his self-control to not barge out of the room and punch him.
"Stop it, you know you can call me y/n."
Before Emil could reply, they had both made it to the sitting room where Nikolai was waiting for them. It looked like no one had warned them of his presence because Kirigin looked surprised then utterly mortified.
"Your majesty, I wasn't aware you were here. Please forgive me for making you wait."
"Don't fret Kirigin, it was an impromptu visit. I came to see how my lovely wife was doing." No matter how green he was feeling right now, he knew that Kirigin was loyal to him and the crown. Whatever was happening here wasn't one of his schemes.
"Of course! I'm going to send for some tea while you two get reunited." Kirigin quickly bowed before hurrying out of the room.
Nikolai met your eyes for the first time since you had arrived. If at first, you were surprised to see him, now you couldn't help but be a bit sceptical about this visit.
"What are you doing here?" you asked breaking the ice.
"You leave with only a few lines on where you're going and you expect me to just accept it?" He scoffed, his hands curling on the armrests of the chair.
"It's more than what you gave me," you quipped, crossing your arms on your chest.
Nikolai sighed while his gloved hands run through his hair. You were right and he knew it. He had been a horrible husband lately.
"I know you're mad at me, honey, but listen-"
"I'm not mad. You didn't want to give me what I wanted so I went looking for it somewhere else." Scrolling your shoulders, you interrupted him without meeting his eyes. A list of excuses was not what you wanted nor what you needed from him.
Nikolai didn't miss the innuendo. His jaw clenched, his hands closed in fists. But he willed himself to stay calm.
"You think Kirigin can give you something that I can't?" Nikolai was a master in diplomacy. Never did he get frustrated or angry or raised his voice, even with the most aggravating people. Here though, with you, he didn't have to keep a façade. He spoke through his teeth barely containing his anger.
"Well, so far, he's been giving me attention and interesting pointers that no, Nikolai, you refused to give me."
"So this is how you solve your problems? Running away in the countryside with Emil?" Nikolai sneered, his tone souring around Kirigin's name.
"Don't you do the same with your precious first in command?" Tired after your ride with Emil, you plopped down on the chair in front of Nikolai's. Completely ignoring his tone, you pointed out calmly. The perfect image of aloofness even when it was the last thing you were in this moment.
"That's different," he snapped trying to meet your eyes that were carefully analyzing your hands.
"Yes," you signed, "it seems that when I'm concerned everything is different."
"There's nothing between me and Zoya, y/n and you know it." Nikolai was getting more frustrated by the second. He came here to apologize, to make things right and so far, the conversation was going in the opposite directions.
"Maybe now, but you spend more time with her than you do with me. It's only a matter of time before it happens and you're sorely mistaken if you think I'll just stand by and watch."
"This is not about Zoya," he insisted but so far, he wasn't getting the reaction out of you he wanted. You seemed... resigned at the situation. And that worried Nikolai to no end.
"It never is."
"Why did you run away?" Opting for a more direct approach, he bit the bullet and went straight to the point.
"I did not run away," you scoffed in contempt at his choice of words, "I told you I wanted to do more and Emil is teaching me. Not everyone is so against spending time with me, you know." You shot him a glance.
It was the first time that you had looked at him since you had been left alone.
"I married you, y/n. How can you possibly believe I don't want to spend time with you?" As desperation slipped through his words, Nikolai leaned towards you in his seat. As if he couldn't bear the distance between you anymore. But you knew it wasn't that. You and he had been distant for months now.
"Because that's what's happening, Nikolai," you clipped back and Nikolai had to refrain from wincing at your tone.
"It's not intentional, my love, I've just been busy." His tone softened. It was a poor excuse of an apology but it was sadly the truth.
"But when I say that I want to join or help you with it you strongly oppose?" Again, there was that suspicious implication in your words that Nikolai just couldn't stand. To think that you believed he'd ever cheat on you with another woman when he had done so much, taken so many risks, to be with you.
"It's not what you think, y/n." He insisted again but immediately realized he had said the wrong thing when he saw you leaning back into your chair shaking your head.
"I don't think anything, anymore. Do whatever you want. You do your thing and I'll do mine. I won't be a bother to you anymore." Holding up your hands, you gestured as you spoke.
A beat. Nikolai froze in his seat at what you were suggesting.
"You're never a bother to me. Never." He leaned even forwards in his chair, basically only propping on it now. The desperation was now clear in his voice. He reached out to you to try and take hold of your hands but you were too distant.
"I love you more than anything in this world and if you think that I'm going to let you go without a fight, you're sorely mistaken." The steel determination of his words caught you off guard. Nikolai was strong-headed, you knew that better than anyone else, but it had been a long while since that determination had been directed to you.
"You already did." It was barely a whisper. The sad truth about your reality, the downfall of your relationship. The wavering of your voice, the pain in your eyes were enough to tip Nikolai off the edge.
"Milaya, please."He fell onto his knees in front of you. Leaning forward he reached for your hands that he could now hold. "I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position when I married you and I tried my best to protect you."
"I don't need protecting, Nikolai, especially if it's by pushing me away."
"I was keeping you away from danger and I know that you're strong and capable but I hate to think of you as the object of public slander." His eyes darted between yours, frantic, desperate to make you understand.
"I'm Grisha, Nikolai. It's nothing new to me," you pointed out but then it hit you.
"By difficult position, you meant a Grisha Queen, didn't you?" Your eyes hardened at the implications, your hands going slack in his hold. You would have pulled them away if Nikolai didn't tighten his hold.
"Please, do not think I'm regretting my choice or I think you're not worthy of the title because that's not true." Pulling your hands, he tried to get you closer to him. "I fear that there will be repercussions among the people." And there it was, at last, the truth.
"And among your ministers," you added remembering Emil's lessons on the people at court and their role.
You scoffed when he stayed silent. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought I was doing the right thing, my love."
"So Zoya can handle it and I can't?"
"For the millionth time," he groaned, "I don't care about Zoya."
"I only care about you and I know you can handle it. I just didn't want you to. You deserve happiness and peaceful life and I know it's impossible to have in this saints' forsaken country but I can at least try." His eyes lowered in shame and his confession sent a pang through your heart. You took a moment to take in what he said.
Never had you thought about the possibility of Nikolai's distance was a form of protection. You were a soldier of the Second Army, after all. But being a queen, especially a Grisha one, was a delicate thing.
It was the first time in history that something like this happened. Nikolai's worries were not unfounded since even after the destruction of the Fold, anti-Grisha movements were spreading fast.
It was sad to see the General's attempt of assuring safety for Grisha, provoking exactly the opposite thing.
"Oh, Kolya," returning his grip, you leaned towards him, "I just want a life with you by my side."
"As do I. I want you always and forever but above all, I want you safe. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know it right?"
"I just ask that you tell me the truth and let me play the role I've been given."
"It's not going to be easy. People at court-"
"I know. That's why I'm here. Emil's been teaching."
"Well, no more. I'm going to take care of it from now on."
"Is this a promise or a threat?"
"Rest assured my love, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent." He flashed you a smirk and you couldn't help but smile at him. Here it was, your beloved Nikolai.
"Things are going to change, aren't they?" you murmured softly as he gently rested his forehead against yours.
"We're going to show everyone what a "power couple" is." Here was his promise. Sealed with the gentlest nudging of his nose to yours. The action made you smile and your heart soar. You missed these little moments of intimacy with him.
One of his hands came to cradle your face as the other kept hold of your left hand. Your rings softly clicked as they touched. A form of reassurance.
"I love you, y/n."
"And I you, Kolya."
You were completely lost in your little bubble, even more so when Nikolai's lips finally met yours, that you had forgotten where you were. And that there was an embarrassed Kirigin outside the door waiting for the right moment to come in with tea.
#nikolai lanstov#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai lanstov x you#nikolai lanstov angst#nikolai lanstov fic#nikolai lanstov imagine#nikolai lanstov imagines#nikolai lanstov one shot#nikolai lanstov fluff#grishaverse#shadow and bone
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Dressed in Crimson
Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)
Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.
A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!
Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie
Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k
My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.
Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.
The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.
Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.
His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.
I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.
When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.
I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.
When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.
When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.
I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.
The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.
My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.
Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.
When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.
Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.
The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.
Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.
His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.
When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.
The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.
I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.
“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.
“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.
It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.
His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,
“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.
Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”
The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”
My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.
“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.
His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.
“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.
He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.
I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.
His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.
“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.
“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.
I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”
A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.
“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.
“I like your thinking.”
I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.
If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.
As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”
“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.
Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.
He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.
“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.
The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.
Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.
His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.
My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.
He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.
I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.
My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.
“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.
“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.
My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.
“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”
Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.
“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”
Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.
Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.
Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,
“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”
His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”
The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.
We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”
I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”
The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.
“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.
“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.
Ask me anything
—-
Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):
All works:
@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭
All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99
Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey
Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#matthew gray gubler x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#mgg#matthew gray gubler#mgg x reader#mgg smut#matthew gray gubler smut#30 fics in 30 days
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