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buzzkillers · 1 year ago

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WHITE HOUSE DOWN

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Hobie fuck after he kills the President of the United States: Norman Osborne.

Tags|Warnings: Happy 4th of July (sarcastic), public oral sex, cum facials, enemies to enemies that fuck, exhibitionism, bratty reader, graphic violence, bad British slang, UNEDITED

WC:4k

In under an hour Fascism, Capitalism and President Norman Osborne died in the same way: pathetically and in a roaring beat of gunfire and raging anarchy.

It was so punk metal that Hobie reckoned he could've cried.

Maybe even let out a blood curdling scream before he joined his mates in celebration; in a fight that continued to roar beyond the thick walls of this stupid building. Of the world's now fallen symbol of false freedom, colonization and white supremacy.

All of it was dead now anyway, all of it was gone. So yeah Hobie reckoned he should’ve cried; maybe he even was crying but he was too pent up on adrenaline and rock and roll to notice. Who fucking knew. Who fucking cared?

What mattered was that Osborne’s head was detached, that his guitar was covered in guts and brain and enough idiocratic bullshit that it had clattered to the floor.

His weapon stained against the fancy White House carpet. He didn’t mind though, it added to the decor. You didn’t seem to give a shit either. For you, blood still stained your locs and your lips stayed wrapped around his cock.

And well Hobie didn't follow rules. They were barely a suggestion in his radar. Yet apart of him knew this was off kilter, even for him. Even for Spider Punk.

Spider Punk, the not-hero and the now killer who instead of killing capitalist and fighting corporate drones was here. Here with black nails that dug into your back and wicks that kissed the skin of your cheek.

It felt good.

This reward, you told him as you guided him towards the pigs desk. Your hands already at the buckle of his jeans before you looked up at him; eyes hazy and murderously dark.

It reminded him of foggy London nights, of polluted air and days where he gasped for his inhaler. Something that tried to be something else. It made Hobe feel triumphant, out of breath.

And yet this was ‘His reward.’ You growled again as if this was normal and you weren't you but something different, something new.

At that, Hobie couldn’t help but laugh. It was a pretty comedy after all, a neat joke as your palm— shaking and slick with sweat wrapped itself around his cock and your knees dug into the floor. The blood stained floor.

He inhaled sharply, either from the adrenaline or the genuine need to breathe before his smile slipped into something wide, dangerous. You shot a glare at him.

"Something funny?" You mouthed, as if your eyes weren't muggy, as if there wasn't a revolution going on a wall away. Hobie of course simply looked down at you, his own eyes liquid dark, but alight with adrenaline and fire and everything that made a corporate pig like Osborne underestimate him.

“Fuck yeah,” he rolled his hips up.

"Everything's a bit funny right now, love"

Below him, you only scoffed as if what he said wasn’t sick given the circumstances.

As if this was simply another one of those nights; those long nights where this would be your signal to leave. To keep your distance from Hobie Brown, the Spider Punk with too much venom on his tongue and righteous anger in his every word. But you didn’t, you simply looked at him, calculative, nervous.

Around them, the war raged on and the sounds of corporate drones getting their ass beat made the floors vibrate. None of them aware of their leader's demise before his team crushed them into dust. Below him you sighed, that gleam still in your eyes. (murky puddles and polluted skylines.)

"Of course you'd make this hard,"

"Can't just let me suck you off and shut up huh, SP?" You muttered, and you see Hobie would respond. There was always an excuse to be barked, a word to be said. But music still thrummed through his veins, the air was singing (screaming) and you were here.

Not with Osborne. Not in a lab, cooped up but here.

He smiled. "I'm not known for consistency,"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," you rolled your eyes, "I've heard the speech,”

"can't be consistent, can't be bought, can't shut up,"

Shut up?

He licked his lips and tasted the metal, the blood. 'Im gettin’ tired of your mouth, boy.’ Osborne had sneered before Hobie broke his face in.

Yeah, he didn't listen to him either. He shrugged his shoulders. "Nah, I don't think so,"

You rolled your eyes. “Spider-”

“Aw, am I ruining your fantasy love?" You cut him a look.

“Catchin me off guard like this, you must’ve planned it, no?”

Your grimace deepened. Which was cute. Very cute. “So you’re just gonna keep talking?”

“—I mean I'm not against you knowin' your onions and all that, but between you being stuck in your lab and arguing with us who knew you had the time,” he whispered, before your eyes went sharp and your nails dug into his thighs. A warning, that only made his cock hard and his hands crack the lip of the desk. Cute. He thought again.

So bloody cute that he blinked and his heart raced like a drum, like a rip of his pick against his guitar.

‘Lay on your back’ you said, ‘drop the guitar.’ and he did.

You had demanded it with a trained nonchalance. Completely unbothered as if he didn't hear the way your lungs sharply inhaled when his guitar separated Osborne's head from his spine. Cartilage, tendons and a thick spinal cord crushed into dust beneath his rebellion before you pounced on him.

You gave him that same look now and it was wicked hot. He couldn't deny it. A fun mix of cheekiness and nerves before you cocked your head and, “You know what, fine,”

In a blink, his back was shoved harder against the desk. His hands twisted into your locs, while your mouth wet, hot and slick like honey, like blood enveloped him, turned him inside out and made him want to curl over and actually cry.

Not cause it felt good or spectacular or amazing but because it was you. Only cause it was you.

Below him you sucked him off like you had something to prove. Like it was a challenge. It would be a crime to look away. To not match rebellion with rebellion, your hatred with his faux indifference while your lips remained dry, your handwork sloppy and your rhythm off. It was honestly the worst blowjob he’s ever had.

But you were enthusiastic and you looked up at him as if you expected more. Like Hobie was supposed to fall to his knees and thank you. Of course, a flicker of frustration came out when he gave you the opposite: a slick smile and his eyes wide in wonder.

"Leave it to you too give someone an angry blow job," He cocked his head, "Reckon you’re overthinkin’ it, love?”

You choked in response. Your mouth off his cock and looking as if you were about to spit on the floor before you paused and Hobie watched you swallow instead. Something hot shot in his core.

“Never,” you sneered as if this was just another part of the battle, your own personal fight.

Hobie just snickered, a gleam in his eyes even as you went still, embarrassment hot on your face.

“Yeah that's what I guessed," he whispered, before gloved hands gripped your jaw. Tight and restrictive.

“Quick tip? You’re too rough with it love, let me guess didn’t watch enough videos?” he teased, before he realized where exactly his dick was.

You gave him a sharp smile, "want to repeat that?" No, not particularly. He rolled his shoulders.

“Slow down,”

“Where's the rush,” he teased before there was a thump and a scream and oh, he guess they've found the bloke's head. Took them long enough.

If Hobie remembered how hard he kicked it correctly; The fuckers skull was three rooms away with thick walls and flimsy doors in each of them.

His smile turned giddy, "We all the time in the world,"

"Please tell me you're joking," and there it was again, that look. That need for order and propriety. Hobie patted your cheek.

"What, getting nervous?" Your eyes shot to the door. To the distant footsteps that only got closer to the currently unlocked room.

"Hobie,"

"Fine," he shot the hinges up with webbing. It wouldn't last. But you didn't need to know that.

"See? Good,"

Quickly, your shoulders relaxed; your nape warm beneath his hand, prickled and covered in sweat till he gripped it harder, guiding you down until your mouth was on him again. He shuddered.

“Make it wet,” you looked confused, your eyebrows twitching before your mouth went agape and he felt it.

Something hot and sticky that dripped down his cock. Your lips were now sheen, a messy mix of precum, sweat and everything that would never normally be in a pretty mouth like that.

Of course, you still managed to glare at him. And yeah nah, he wasn't gonna think about why that made his mouth dry before he angled his hips up and up until the tip of him was at the rim of your lips; he took a deep breath.

“Grip the desk for me,”

You frowned again, harder if that was possible. And Hobie couldn't have that.

"Wh--" in a blink he's already bullied his thumb passed plush lips and sharp teeth. Expertly, rubbing his painted nails against the soft flesh of your cheek until drool and spit slicked down his wrist and,

"That's wicked," he whispered.

"You’re so fucking pretty like this," You shot him a look. Your eyes still shakingly looking towards the door. The soldiers have gotten louder, they've must've bursted pass the first room. But Hobie only sighed, unbothered

“Is this why you've been so nice to me lately? Been wanting to give me this," he rambled, his eyes back on yours before his smile melted into a smirk. The last thing Osborne ever saw, before his head rolled down the stairs.

Now, the funny thing about trying to tell a punk what to do was that you shouldn't actually expect them to listen. Osborne learned that the hard way. But you weren’t like the rest of them. No matter what the team said about you turning your back on your upbringing for the cause. You weren’t like them. Clean and simple.

It was written in the cracks of your face, in the corners of your eyes. That want for order that battled with the need to rebel and make things right.

It's probably why you continued to look at him like that; your eyes slitted, red and angry.

You hated it but you wanted it too. Which meant that it took no effort to grip your jaw, keeping it still as you moved to chop your teeth onto his thumb. Light work.

But it was another thing to dodge the whistle of your studded fist and the gleam of spikes on your knuckles before they're webbed to the dead Pigs desk. You were smart not to try again. Still your face stayed twisted in anger.

Hobie couldn't help but laugh again, all sharp teeth and youthful indignation in his voice.

“I'm not good with mixed signals love, you hate me, you don't, you want to give me a reward about a job well done and then whine about it,”

“This is still a reward right?” he whispered, his voice deep and molten. It dragged you into a spell, made you nod. “Good,”

"Now, why don't we start stickin’ to our words, yeah," you made no room to reply, just continued to look up at him with that fire in your eyes that reminded him of madness, of a man whose body could be found in various parts of this makeshift castle. For the first time, Hobies face went stern, his body hands suddenly on your nape gripping tight.

"Yeah?" He repeated.

That madness in your eyes only take a moment to flicker, a moment to wick and out before your face twisted again, "Yeah,"

"There we go,"

You made no room to stop him. As his prodded his cock against your lips again, against that slick heat, hellfire, glory, his reward that was found in the tightens of your throat. "Good,"

He gripped the back of your neck tighter. “There we go,”

“Breathe through your nose,” Then you squeezed your eyes shut, prepared to choke, for Hobie to bruise your throat, for your jaw to ache while he used you like you prepared to use him.

Then he hummed, like a thrum of his guitar, like the flutter of a hummingbird. It was your only warning before he brought you down, slow, sluggish. He made you feel the weight of him, the way it pressed against your tongue, expanded your throat.

You couldn’t help it really, the way your eyes closed. The hazy sensation that made your vision blur. Hobie fucked your throat as if he had all the time in the world. As if a world leader wasn’t rotting in the next room.

And this would be a great time to joke. For Hobie to make you regret bringing him here and not give the secrets to ruining him but nah, this was better. This was more satisfying. Worth the shock in your eyes as you tried to keep them open. Your cunt not so subtly grinding against his boot.

“Don't look so surprised love”

“Let me guess, you expected me to go hard?” he whispered, voice ragged.

“Wanted me to bruise your pretty throat?” He dragged himself out again. Withdrew his hips, until your lips were once again at the tip of him. A thick residue of spit left behind.

Good.

Perfect even.

But below him you struggled to remain composed. Your mind was a fog that thickened, and your ears roared with the music that was Hobie Brown. The sounds of his shockwaves still in the air. On a better day, you'd remain aloof. You'd look at hobie with bored eyes and tell him to do his worse.

Clearly, that day wasn't today.

Your eyes were still closed after all, and the taste of him still stained your throat. You wanted more. You wanted-

His hand tightened on your neck.

“Now when did I say you could do that?” You blinked up, teary eyed with more of Hobie’s cock in your mouth than he previously allowed.

Suddenly, your cheeks burned and Hobie watched embarrassment wash over you. Watched you drown in it, in an attempt to cover up the desperate move before you just sat there, unable to go forward, unable to move back. “Cute,”

And then he jerked forward, cock hitting your throat until tears brimmed in your eyes and well Hobie was only a man at the end of the day. He unwebbed you, “Use your hands wrap them around me,”

Quickly, you complied. “Yeah love like that,"

You didn’t need further instruction. You continued the slow tempo he set. And for a moment, it stayed like that: you swallowing him with a sloppy mouth and tears in your eyes, your hands now slick with well, everything. Snot, spit and tears.

He laughed again, a bit more choked up and bit more delirious as your tongue dragged against the undervein of his cock. Sharp pleasure blinded him, he felt like it was too much, not enough. Like his heart was gonna burst from the adrenaline, the heat.

For a moment, he craved something on his lips too. Something just as hot and slick and you. He reckoned you'd like that. Want to shut him up with your thighs locked around his head and your cunt slick on his studded tongue. If you were gonna do this, you might as well do it right, do it in the worst way possible while Osborne's corpse rotted in the next room.

Below him, you gripped him tighter. Suckled your lips at the head of him until he shuddered and groaned. His palms slicked in blood gripping right at your face. If he knew this would be the reaction to winning the war— he'd bring Osborne back to life himself.

Let you watch him kill him again, again and again if it meant you looked at him like that. Like a drunkard, like the feeling he got when he strummed his guitar just right, just perfectly against his pick. Until you were like this: your lips, tight and harsh. Sucking him off as if it was another fight, your eyes red hot with anger and tears.

He was close.

He couldn’t even be embarrassed, if they knew what a pretty picture you made no regular bloke would be either before he felt it. That liquid hot build up; like something molten that grew and morphed and dripped in his belly before his thighs trembled, his fist cracked the desk and you looked marvelous.

He tried to draw away, cause he was proper and raised right but he couldn't get far. Not against someone who looked like they wanted to prove something. You started this for a reason after all. So of course, your hands pressed into his hips, kept him still. Fucking brat.

Before the room became an echo chamber of gasps and whines and— he lurched forward, hands on your shoulders, a sharp cry of your name.

The orgasm was just as violent as the murder. It ripped through him and rearranged his insides until it felt painful, overwhelming. Like he was stuck in his own shockwave, pulled at the seams, the points of musical notes at his ears.

Then he whimpered, sharp and inaudible. But it made your eyes glitter all the same before you pulled off him with a satisfying grin as the violence in him transcended to a soft shudder.

Both of you didn't talk for a minute. Just let everything settle. Until slowly the world trickled back in and Hobie watched half amused and half delirious as across your face, emotions flickered too fast for him to dissect.

What he did know was that you were looking at him, at the floor and then randomly at the door. Oh yeah, the goons. He should focus on that, but you were still on your knees, looking pretty and fucked out and well Hobie couldn't help it. He suddenly had the taste for something sweet.

"Up, c’mon"

You looked at him, leg kneeled. "Fuck you,” you coughed, throat dry. “Where do you think I was doing?"

He shook his head, and with little effort, he towered over you. You looked up at him, eyes wide, lips plush and the corner of your mouth twinkling with beads of white and shit, shit. Hobie did not wait for you to get up.

In a blur of red white and blue, the two of you switched places. It was like carrying a stack of paper, a bag of groceries before you plopped into the desk; your eyes wide, legs spread and cunt wet through your trousers.

"Hobie come on—"

His thumb dug into the seam of your jeans, ripped them in two until you were cunt hit cold air. You dripped on the desk. "Don't be selfish,”

“I thought this was a reward,” And then hobie’s tongue was on you, desperate and hot.

Studded fingers pressed into your hips, digging,digging and "Hobie, what-” Hobie pressed you further into the desk.

His tongue was slick and sticky against your folds. The pleasure that was white and hot grinded you to a halt. Your brain morphed into mush. You weren't going to last. This, you can admit with a certainty as your thighs wrapped around hobie’s head anyway.

You looked towards the door, but Hobie with his freakishly long arms gripped your jaw and forced your eyes back on him. Pay attention, they said. Until your eyes went wide, frantic; and your hips fought the battle of jerking away from Hobie and against him while he flicked your clit; his finger prodding against your entrance.

It's almost embarrassing how fast you came.

Even worse how you tried to hide it. With teeth the bit into your wrist, and moans that you tried to choke down while your hips moved on him with a grind that only made it worst, made it last.

You grunted and swore, the flat palms of your hand slammed into the desk. Once twice and then Hobie got up, looked at you splayed out on Osbornes desk, jeans pooled to your knees, the hairs of your cunt glistening.

"Good?”

With a gasp, you could only focus on the sound of the door as the screams of soldiers bulged against the doors frames.

Your blood was pulsing but you couldn’t feel your throat. Couldn’t feel the scratches and bruises that later you won't be able to tell was from Hobie or from the fight.

The wooden door bent beneath the weight of the army. Before eventually it popped and you threw the spider a smile.

“Good,”

#hobie brown smut #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black!reader #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader #atsv smut #hobie brown lemon #tw: smut #hobie brown imagine #spiderpunk smut #spider punk x reader #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you

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thetypedwriter · 4 months ago

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Children of Anguish and Anarchy Book Review

Children of Anguish and Anarchy Book Review by Tomi Adeyemi

This book was so horrible.

No one is more disappointed than me to say that.

I’ve gone to two of Tomi Adeyemi’s book signings, including a recent one for Children of Anguish and Anarchy.

Tomi Adeyemi herself is absolutely wonderful. She’s so intelligent, hilarious, addictively charming, and can work a room like no other. The book signing was fantastic. Too bad the book couldn’t hold up to the event itself.

Children of Anguish and Anarchy follows as the third and last installment of the Legacy of Orisha trilogy, but doesn’t read like that at all.

Other than having the same four main characters of Tzain, Zelie, Amari, and Inan, nothing about the book concludes any issue, plot story, or character development from the previous two novels.

A completely new villain is introduced, someone we haven't heard about as a reader in the last two books whatsoever, and obliterates any of the conflict and tension that Adeyemi worked so hard to build in her previous stories.

Gone is the tension and literally hundreds of years of in-fighting between the Maji and the monarchy, gone is the civil war and its repercussions on Orisha, gone is even one of the main characters from the last novel, Roen, who was a significant love interest for Zelie and who has been completely disappeared in this new book all together (like, what???).

It was incredibly lazy writing to wipe away everything the first two books created in order to “unite” against this new enemy. The sentiment is nice, but it’s not the finale we wanted or needed.

I desired answers to Amari and Zelie’s broken friendship, closure to the Inan and Roen love triangle, a verdict on how Orisha would rebuild and who would rule.

We get none of that.

Instead Zelie and the others spend half their time in the book on a ship with very strong slavery parallels, and the other half in the introduced land of New Gaia.

While I thought the descriptions of New Gaia were beautiful (albeit very similar to Avatar), I was dissatisfied because the whole series at this point has been focused on Orisha and Orisha’s problems, not New Gaia and not the Skulls.

While the plot was bad and aggrieving, the characters were even worse.

None of the characters were interesting. They were carbon copies of each other in which all they talked about was avenging their fallen Orishan people, killing the Skulls, and protecting loved ones.

Rinse and repeat. It was boring as hell to delve into four different characters’ minds only to find that they all sounded exactly the same.

I often had to go back to the start of the chapter to tell whose internal thoughts I was reading because they were so interchangeable and self-righteous and dull. It is never a good sign when you can’t automatically tell who’s POV you’re reading based on their internal dialogue and tone.

Lastly, the pacing of the book was atrocious. Everything happened so goddamn fast that I felt like I never had the chance to properly digest or internalize anything.

Oh they’re on a ship? Moving on from that. Zelie got some sort of medallion shoved into her chest?? Moving on. Wait, Maji and Titans and the monarchy are all working together after two full books of them killing each other??? Five pages and it’s done with.

It was outrageous and insulting.

The pacing made everything feel shallow, unimportant, and unnecessary. More than most of the plot were action scenes, while difficult to write and interesting in their own right, in this book it was so repetitive that characters killing other characters 90% of the time became egregiously tedious.

And speaking of the action, I also found it incredibly violent and graphic for a YA book. As someone who is not a fan of gore and blood, this book had so many explicit details for no reason other than being gratuitous.

For example, at one point Zelie shoves a chicken bone through someone’s cheek. I found it repulsive and it was also incessant.

I know some people can handle brutality, but I can’t, and found it a huge turn off and made me dislike the book so much more, especially as this was a majority of the book to boot.

Disappointment can’t even contain my full feelings for this story. For such a wonderful trilogy to succumb to such a terrible end is a tragedy. I wish the best for Tomi Adeyemi and success for her future, but I will not read another book by her again.

Score: 2/10

Recommendation: Read Children of Blood and Bone, a magical story that will inspire and entertain you. Read Children of Virtue and Vengeance if you really need something else, but even this book I wouldn’t recommend picking up.

Do not, I repeat, do not read Children of Anguish and Anarchy. It will leave you feeling dismayed and disheartened beyond redemption.

Bonus: Here's me, my fiance, and Tomi Adeyemi at her book signing!

#children of anguish and anarchy #legacy of orisha #tomi adeyemi #book blog #book review #book recommendations #book rec #ya fiction #books #popular fiction #popular books #top books #2/10 #bad books #fantasy books #black authors

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moltengoldveins · 6 months ago

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molten i have minimal marvel knowledge (only watched like 10 of the movies) but if you have the patience to explain how you think techno and steve roger's friendship would develop/work, i would LOVE to hear about it

( i would ask more about the DC side but unfortunately i know a grand total of Nothing about dc )

OK SO (sorry I took so long to respond I was moving) LET ME TELL YOU THIS HOT NONSENSE. (Fair warning, this is a VERY long post)

SO. First off, I’m gonna quickly establish the Techno im working with since I think you already know who that is (/lh 😉) and then I’ll Explain Steven Grant Rogers.

So, the Techno im working with is fundamentally a lawful neutral character. He believes in freedom, in the moral obligation of someone who is capable of preventing evil to work to the fullest extent possible to prevent said evil. He believes that tyranny dictatorship is wrong and that there should be as little government as possible, and said government should be as democratic and free as possible. He jokes about anarchy, but his actions don’t quite line up with direct anarchy so I’m pretty sure it’s mostly for the bit, but he’s very anti-establishment. Techno is not, however, necessarily concerned with what is Good, so much as what is True. Violence does not necessarily equal evil, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a category for civilians when it comes to controlling the damage war causes, though he does quite firmly distinguish between “people who are my enemies” and “people who aren’t involved.” He is motivated by Justice, not mercy. This doesn’t mean he isn’t merciful: it means he doesn’t believe that he is obligated to be merciful. It means that any act of his mercy is, according to him, an exception to the rule, a kindness the people around him don’t deserve and should not take advantage of. He is unflinchingly loyal and viciously protective, as well as shockingly paranoid and proactive in preparing for any eventuality. He’s also a traumatized veteran and a victim of long-term institutionalized racism and speciesism on account of the Piglin thing, a fact that actually ISNT a headcanon! That’s not even made up! He CANONICALLY was concerned that people treated him like an animal and a weapon as opposed to a person and reacted to conflict and confrontation with the assumption that human characters were more likely to treat him poorly than nonhuman ones, like Ranboo or Philza. (I’ve got a whole other essay in there I won’t get into) ANYWAY

If that’s Techno, Steve Rogers is what you do if you take the same solid gold core and raise him poor and catholic in New York in the 1930s. Steve is religious, but it’s unclear if he’s practicing. His faith is an important core to his worldview and the choices he makes, but he’s not preachy. He’s lawful good at first, but I think his character pretty quickly looses that fundamental foundation of “I am righteous, because I know what is right, and I am doing it.” after he loses Bucky, his kinda maybe love interestchildhood friend and gets yeeted popcicle-style into the modern day. He’s loyal as a dog, stubborn to a fault, and, like Techno, completely and utterly incapable of allowing injustice or ‘wrongness’ to exist in the same space as himself. Before the serum he threw himself into fights with enough regularity that Bucky apparently would just… walk around Brooklyn in the vague area he knew Rogers should be and check alleyways for either a brawl or an unconscious Steve. He also believes in freedom, and in the moral obligation of someone who is capable of preventing evil to work to the fullest extent possible to prevent said evil. However, Steve is Captain America. He’s not an idiot: he’s portrayed as incredibly progressive for every era he’s in, but he fundamentally believes that the US is a good system, or at least the best system possible. He believes in the ideal of the American dream and said dream’s ability to inspire people to do good, even if he doesn’t believe in the reality of that dream. He’s also blatantly unwilling to take orders and follow commands unless he knows the reasoning behind the decisions and has been fully convinced that his actions won’t be furthering evil without his knowledge, and considering his history with Nazis and with SHEILD (the government agency that founded the avengers) being a front for the same Nazi organization that got him and Bucky killed originally? It’s totally understandable for him to be VERY wary of his superiors. He’s a good leader, but he’s quick to make moral judgements of other people’s characters and will stick to them until he’s been beaten over the head with how wrong he is, which is really just a subset of his “you find what is True and Right and then you stick to it to the end and you Make the rest of the world move instead of you” mentality, which is a very helpful mentality for a paragon hero! …. Until they don’t have all the information, or that stubbornness is used against them, or they meet someone who has a quality they think is repulsive or immortal.

So all this being said…. Holy crap I wanna put these two in a box and shake them around like a stim toy.

They’re both paragons, by the firm definition of the word, but in completely different ways. They’re both loyal, vicious, guard-dog coded characters, but Techno chewed through his leash and chose his own path (Philza) centuries ago, while Steve was just beaten and dumped in the river by masters he thought were kind, and is now snapping at any human who resembles them. Steve still wants structure above and around him, he still wants to work For a government, as long as it’s a trustworthy one. He’s just not sure how or where to find one, or if he’ll ever be able to trust one again. Techno is absolutely uninterested in that. They’re feral in different ways, and they’ve got very similar opinions about government except for Steve’s uncertainty as to how far exactly he thinks he should go and when, and Techno’s blatant non-regard for things like collateral damage.

They’re both the strongest non-augmented melee fighters of their respective worlds and they’ve both got a signature weapon that, despite actively being a Weapon, is meant to symbolically represent peace and protection. They both have rebirth imagery and close semi-platonic relationships with right-hand-men who are snipers/long distance fighters. They’ve both got a history with being made to perform, Steve with his propaganda and Techno with either his Chat or, in some headcanons, his time as an Emperor or a gladiator.

They’ve both got (I’m taking some liberties with like, crossover X-men comics and Steve’s hatred of Nazis here) problems with people treating other people as non-human, but Techno is living it, while Steve is working from a place of privilege.

Techno, on the other hand, would not necessarily have the same experience as Steve when it comes to his early life: Steve is still, fundamentally, a small, disabled, asthmatic kid from Brooklyn, and the disconnect between Him and The Body is at absolute best a struggle he works his way through after the first few Avengers films and at worst something that haunts him for the rest of his life.

Steve might feel his body is not his own but he has no experience with his MIND not being his own. He’s frighteningly intelligent. Techno is smart, but the Voices are another huge difference between them I think I’d find fascinating to explore.

Steve is not the brains of the Avengers, but he is the mind. He is their compass, their engine, the one making judgements on and off field for the team, but he’s not alone: in good avengers media (Avengers Assemble) he’s working alongside Tony, and he has the whole team at his back. Techno and Phil are alone. They are entirely self-reliant and have been for aeons. There is absolutely no reason for them to understand or comprehend how the Avengers work as a team without some significant work to bridge that gap. Philza is a whole other can of worms: the hardcore worlds might be a form of long-term enforced or self-isolation, the hardcore life system might be shared by both Phil and Techno or be just Phil, they might assume the team can die more than once and be shocked to learn everyone on earth has only one life, they’re so old they carry scars from things they can’t remember anymore and traumas the Avengers are not equipped to handle.

Literally everything about this dynamic is fascinating to me. How would Steve and Techno fight together? What parts of their political ideals would clash and why? Would they help own another grow or make one another worse? Are we getting post-Bucky-returns Steve, where the Avengers is splintered and Steve is truly disillusioned? Or will Emduo be present for the events of Winter Solider? If they are, how would they influence those events? Techno would take one look at Steve’s reaction to Hydra and know Exactly how much they needed to be wiped from the face of the planet, but how would that go? Would he bring Steve with him? Would he clean house without Steve even realizing and come back like “.ey yo I polished ur government for u. Hope you like it, it’s freshly de-Hydrad. Also half ur entire chain of command is dead they were evil my bad.” Would Philza have enough influence and wisdom to pull Tony away from the idea of Ultron? How would either of these characters interact with Peter Parker (Tommy but… a spider?) or Nightcrawler (That is an Enderman Hybrid. Why is there a normal enderman hybrid in this universe?) or Venom (ah, you fool. I’ve already got someone living in my brain rent-free, bold of you to assume you will survive this mistake). Literally everything about this is amazing and there are ONLY TWO FICS ON AO3. Infuriating. Literally the worst.

#molten rambles #technoblade #mcyt #philza #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #crossover #dsmp x MCU #Asks #Long post

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 11 months ago

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anarchywoofwoof · 11 months ago

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i'm gonna make this post now and stop delaying because this has been weighing on my mind for the last few weeks.

i want to talk about the presidential election coming up.

i've seen some leftists on here mention they're scared to criticize joe biden because they're afraid it will be exploited by the right.

i've also seen some leftists on here state that they will not vote for genocide joe no matter what, no matter when, no matter how.

let's break down the options in a way that is somewhat objective and then i will make my conclusion. i'd say that i'll try to make this succint... but i'd be lying.

if you care enough to hear my opinion, read on.

barring something absolutely miraculous happen, we will not be transitioning to a state of anarchy, socialism or communism in 2024. therefore, we have reason to believe there will be a presidential election in 2024 between a democrat, a republican, and an unknown number of third party candidates. this is reality. not tumblr's wildest dreams. let's accept that.

if donald trump is on the ballot, he will almost certainly be the republican nominee. in which case, like it or not, the election will be biden - trump - 3rd parties. these are your choices, in addition to abstaining. like it or not.

if donald trump is not on the ballot, it is not clear who the republican nominee will be. if it is nikki haley, she actually stands a fair chance of beating biden. this would be a bad thing. nikki haley is an antiworker fanatic and is not the moderate that she will inevitably be painted as.

if donald trump is on the ballot and you vote for a third party candidate, barring something absolutely miraculous happening, they will lose. i am not being reductionist. i am stating a fact. a third party candidate does not exist today who can gain enough traction in less than a year to win the presidency. it will not happen.

if donald trump is on the ballot and you choose not to vote, there is an extremely high likelihood that donald trump will once again become president and i do not need to tell you how bad that that would be. because he won't let go of the presidency. he will reign as an autocrat to avoid federal charges for his many, many, many crimes. the country will look very different and many of you will (including myself) will be in grave danger immediately.

i am going to pause here to remind you to use your reading comprehension. i am not telling you who to vote for. or who not to vote for. i am telling you the likely outcomes of the actions that you may choose to take. if you are upset right now, take a step back and ask yourself why.

i do not support the ongoing genocide of the Palestinian people and i myself will have to reconcile with the consequences of my actions in November 2024 regardless of what i decide to ultimately do. i have not decided. however, i am a (mostly) cis white male-presenting person in the united states. the privilege afforded to me by this fact is both real and unfortunate. i know that i am not in the same type of danger that others are under the reign of a fascist dictator. i have to ask myself if that is the lens from which i am viewing this issue and is that the most righteous decision for someone who claims to care most about his community?

if you understand the consequences and you choose not to vote or vote third party then that is up to you and i'm not here to stop you. in fact, you should not be persuaded by some fucking guy on tumblr to do anything. form your own opinions. but i have a pretty significant following and i would be irresponsible for not giving this reminder.

i will continue to criticize Joe Biden and the imperialist, colonialist bullshit that i see every single day from his administration. i'll do it publicly here on this blog. but under Trump, there's a very real possibility that this blog wouldn't even be permitted, quite frankly. and i may not be sitting here right now typing this post.

#united states #us politics #politics

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haveyoureadthispoll · 9 months ago

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In 2024, with the world descending into madness and anarchy, one woman begins a fateful journey toward a better future. Lauren Olamina and her family live in one of the only safe neighborhoods remaining on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Behind the walls of their defended enclave, Lauren’s father, a preacher, and a handful of other citizens try to salvage what remains of a culture that has been destroyed by drugs, disease, war, and chronic water shortages. While her father tries to lead people on the righteous path, Lauren struggles with hyperempathy, a condition that makes her extraordinarily sensitive to the pain of others. When fire destroys their compound, Lauren’s family is killed and she is forced out into a world that is fraught with danger. With a handful of other refugees, Lauren must make her way north to safety, along the way conceiving a revolutionary idea that may mean salvation for all mankind.

#book: parable of the sower #author: octavia e. butler #genre: sci fi #genre: dystopian #genre: classics #year: 1990s

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visxionery · 9 months ago

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Introducing our first shuffle group, Dystopia! Made of five members consisting of :

Shu Itsuki

Keito Hasumi

Izumi Sena

Leo Tsukinaga

Aira Shiratori

(visuals are just for example, if I was an amazing artist I would have drawn the cards but *sobs*) I picked the card cg's to the most similar of how they'll actually look like though!

SHUFFLE X New Dynasty's Countdown

Celebrating the new year, Shu finds himself being in the lead role of Dramatica's new production, Dystopia, only to find out that Keito was the lead scriptwriter. Ideals clash as the deadline looms closer...

Event Cards :

(The Final Countdown) Shu Itsuki - Five Star

(The Passion Countdown) Aira Shiratori - Four Star

(The Euphonious Countdown) Leo Tsukinaga - Four Star

Event Gacha : Dystopia

(The Starting Countdown) Keito Hasumi - Five Star

(The Acting Countdown) Izumi Sena - Four Star INSPIRED SONG : Judgement Of Corruption

youtube

Author's Notes :

So since this is a play right, there are supposed to be themes of clashing with each other, as seen in the promo visuals there's a clash of reds and blue. They're all mystic beings in the play so :

Shu is a immortal duke, he's been alive since the 1800's as some victorian guy and his character is obsessed with progression.

Keito is a forest spirit, he's in charge of keeping the stability of the forest and to stop modern progression from happening.

This is where the first clash ideal happens. Sticking in the past vs Progressing to the future. ALSO they're themed in red (shu in darker tones and Keito being in lighter tones) because even though they have different ideals on how to run the present, they are motivated by the same common interest, making sure the humans live their best lives. (they being the characters they play)

Aira is a bandit, stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor. The duke (Shu) had caught Aira from stealing from his mansion, but ultimately let Aira go as it was for a good cause. However, Aira's actions had threatened the peace of the people, and the forest spirit (Keito) had stepped in to punish Aira. Aira is basically middlemen for Shu and Keito to meet. In the end, Aira sides with Keito and Shu (Team Anarchy)

Izumi is a castle guard, having to protect whatever remains or a government there was after the rebellion. Izumi used to be under the duke (shu) but ultimately left after realisin that the way Shu ran his faction was controlling. Izumi was granted a strange pendant that allows him to get no damage, but shortens his life after using it. He knows he's dying, but pretends to be strong because he still have much work to do. In the end, Izumi sides with the castle and Leo Team Monarchy.

Leo is a wandering merchant, but rumour has it he's a mage that grants wishes. He granted Izumi the pendant, as Izumi had wanted to be someone self-righteous in a world full of cunning, selfish people. Leo acts as a narrator in this, having shades of blue to represent team monarchy, as he (his character) believes that spirits should not be meddling in the affairs of humans to the extent of Shu and Keito. Leo is in lighter shades of blue, and Izumi is in darker shades, mixed with purple to show his past with Team Anarchy

Basically the story if about how people can rule with corruption VS people who want to wash the system out. If I get the inspiration maybe I'll write a part two about the shuffle.

#ensemble stars #enstars #shu itsuki #izumi sena #leo tsukinaga #keito hasumi #aira shiratori #my shuffles #shuffle unit #ensemble cast #ensemble stars song #SHUFFLE UNITS WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME #Youtube

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paloma-ascends-into-hellfire · 5 months ago

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I hear that you want to rant about dehumanization?

omg YES ok so

dehumanization is the easiest way to oppress a group of people. historically, if you can convince people that another group of people is less civilized, less human, it's easy to stop caring about the oppressed group, easier to ignore the fact that they're being oppressed (because who cares, right, we, the oppressors, know what's best for them), which in turn makes them easier to oppress.

and there are so many subtle ways this can be done. for instance, queer people and people of colour (especially women of colour, trans people, and anyone who falls within these intersections) are frequently seen in porn because if you prove to someone that they are nothing more than an object to be viewed for your enjoyment, soon they begin to believe it. they stop resisting, making it easier to oppress them.

another way to do this is to talk about "third world countries" and tell people how lucky they are to live in a first world country. example: i live in canada, and a lot of people like saying things like, "you know, in other countries, they'd cut off your hand for this! be glad you don't live in [insert country here]". or they talk about how rampant gangs and anarchy and violence is in other countries -- or other neighbourhoods -- whilst ignoring a) the violence within their own area (eg. black person is killed by middle class white cop in, but look at the drug dealers in the slums killing people with meth!) and b) the cause of this violence (typically the answer is colonization)

the class divide and white supremacy that causes this makes it easier as well, and so does our good friend gaslighting. tell me if this cycle sounds familiar: brown person killed by cop --> police do nothing --> in response to police doing nothing, protests break out --> police do nothing --> protests get violent --> white people go "wow that's so violent, that's so inhuman, you uneducated creatures are monsters"

to paraphrase the comic artist and blogger emma, everyone always talks about the violence of the protesters, but is it not violent to deprive human beings of rights?

this can also be used in verbal microagressions, such as towards muslims: "oh, you have to forgive him, things work differently in his religion" or asking a hijabi if she's oppressed? does she need to be freed? is someone making her do it??? i suspect this dehumanization in relation to islamophobia is part of the reason why the genocide in gaza is ignored, because it is much easier to turn a blind eye if you believe that palestinians are homophobic, uncivilized people rather than believe the reality.

it can also be used the other way. saying that an oppressor is "inhuman" is also super unhelpful because part of the reason these things happen, part of the reason genocides and class systems are so harmful and horrific, is because they are human. looking at them as simply psychopaths and monsters just makes it more likely to happen again, with someone who is not, at first, obviously monstrous.

the last way i can think of off the top of my head is blanket statements and caricatures. "queer people are perverts", "brown people have anger issues", "are you on your period?", "asians are sweet and smart". this can easily be used to "keep people in their place". like, when i was angry as a child, people (normally well-meaning and joking) would go, "oh, it's just her fiery latina blood", and at a greater scale this is used to devalue and invalidate people's righteous anger. it's always, "they're so angry and violent" and never "why are they angry and violent?" and this is used to turn it back around on the oppressed person or group. this is also gaslighting btw.

this comic explains it really well. it's from emma, the comic artist i paraphrased earlier. it's actually the source material for the quote.

ok rant over. hopefully the reader is able to recognize dehumanization in its many forms, and if you're still confused, educate yourself! google is right there. or you can send me an ask because i like ranting, lol.

tl;dr: dehumanization is the easiest way to oppress someone because it's easy to turn a blind eye to things if you see the victims as less than. this comes in many forms, many of which appear to be harmless.

tagging @hungergameswho because i think you wanted to see this?

#rant rant rant #dehumanization #free palestine #free gaza #all eyes on rafah #tw police brutality #tw racism #dehumanization rant #politics #violence of the oppressed #systems of oppression

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