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greatwyrmgold · 2 years

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The Age of Magneto

Here's a question for X-Men fans: How long until Magneto's expiration date? And what happens then?

You probably know what I mean, but this post is as much an excuse for me to spell out my thoughts on the matter as it is asking for other people's input. (I would still like to hear other opinions, mind you.)

Most metahumans' origin stories are free-floating in history. Batman's parents could have been shot in any decade, Krypton could explode in any decade, Dr. Doom's lab accident could happen in any decade. We just quietly accept a character barely aging between the 70's and the new 10's, if not longer, because that's how comics work. But if a historical event is central to your character's backstory, you could have problems.

The Holocaust was stopped roughly 77 years ago. Any mutant with strong enough memories of Nazi Germany for them to be a significant part of his motivation would need to be in his mid-80's, at minimum. That's longer than most people who don't regularly engage in superpower fights live; it's not old enough that still being an active villain breaks your suspension of disbelief, but my dad was talking about this when Magneto could plausibly be sixty-something.

Each passing decade makes it exponentially less plausible for Magneto to be an active supervillain, but he's a critical part of the X-Men. He's their most iconic villain, his dynamic with Professor Xavier is the centerpiece of everything X-Men says about civil rights, and while I don't follow the comics that closely, I know that Magneto is the father of several significant mutants. He can't just fade into the background when he stops being plausible, like Captain America: Commie-Smasher did.

So at some point, whether in the COVID 20's or the Cyber 30's or the Giant Alien Spider 40's, Magneto will have to change in some way. I only see three ways to do this, and none remotely preserve the X-Men's status quo.

The Natural Solution

The simplest way to make Magneto not unrealistically old to survive both Colossus and leukemia would be to have him just not survive. Possibly a big sacrifice or dramatic battle, possibly just old age or mundane disease, possibly dramatic disease or a mundane battle. Regardless, it seems likely that they'd want to kill Professor X around the same time, if only to put a clean coda on their iconic rivalry.

Now, they would still be important figures in the comics, but more the way that Uncle Ben or the Waynes are, or that MLK and the Black Panthers are to modern African-Americans. The older mutants fight to continue the legacy of their fallen leaders, the younger ones idolize them, but they are gone.

Despite being the only option that doesn't require a reboot or retcon, it's the most disruptive to the status quo, so I doubt they'd pick this one.

Same Genocide, Different Decade

Unfortunately, the Holocaust was not the last event of its kind. Sure, no genocide has been of the same industrial scale as the Holocaust (except the Holomodor, depending on what estimates you use and where you draw the line between "part of the Holocaust" and "just another Nazi war crime," let's leave it at that). But is the Rwandan genocide less tragic, criminal, or traumatic than the Holocaust just because "only" several hundred thousand people died?

Magneto's character wouldn't need to change an inch if he was a Cambodian in the 70's, a Hutu in the 90's, or even a Darfur (or is it Fur?) in the 2010's. But that doesn't mean there wouldn't be issues from this change, and I don't mean continuity ones.

First off, in all likelihood, executive mandate would cut away at this reboot of Magneto until it was, like, Magneto's parents died in a Latverian mutant genocide. Something comfortingly fictionalized. But let's pretend they'd keep a real genocide in there.

Losing a Jewish Magneto would suck. Even if we got different representation out of it, it would suck. And there's no way around it; antisemitism still exists, some organized antisemitism in the past 60 years probably qualifies as genocide, but none approaches the level of generational trauma caused by the Holocaust.

And then there's the race issue. You know how a certain type of reactionary flips out when a codename traditionally belonging to a straight white dude gets assumed by a "political" character? It would be so much worse if we couldn't point out "That's Kal's son" or "That's Tony's student" or "That's the Falcon with a shield". And any Magneto from a major post-WW2 genocide would either need to be a POC (and hence attract those chuds) or a Holomodor survivor (which would just change what chuds you pissed off).

This idea has a lot of good to it. It preserves the time-proven structure of X-Men storytelling, it's probably net positive for representation, and above all, it would remind the audience that the horrors which scarred Magneto did not end with the Nazis. But it also has a lot of bad to balance that out.

Iceman (not that one)

If Magneto is going to continue to be from the Silent Generation, and continue to be an active presence in the story, there will eventually need to be some reason for him not to be a centenarian. You could just make it a side effect of his magnetism somehow, but that feels like it's drawing attention to the problem more than it solves it. Luckily, the Marvel universe has an established mechanism for WW2-era characters to get from D-Day to the modern day.

(Come to think of it...Cap and Magneto were both around during the same pivotal historic period. Heck, Wolverine was, too. Are there any storylines that do something with that quirk of the timeline?)

Or you could use some functionally similar plot device, like being imprisoned in a stasis chamber for some reason. Also, Magneto doesn't need to be frozen for 60-70 years solid for this to work; if he gets put on ice during the 60's or so and defrosted a decade or two before the nebulous modern day, he could be kept at a comfortable middle age until the X-Men franchise stops making money.

But while this option makes it more plausible that his arthritis wouldn't cripple his powers and that one punch from Logan wouldn't break half the bones in his torso, it complicates his relationship to modern mutants.

The biggest problem is his rivalry with Xavier. It could be interesting if Xavier had several decades to get over the reasons he fought with Magneto and Magneto didn't, but that dynamic can only last so long before Xavier has the exact same problem as Magneto: If Xavier was Magneto's rival before he was frozen, X needs to have been an adult in the 60's, which makes him at youngest an early baby boomer.

And it would be supremely awkward to freeze Xavier alongside Magneto. Magneto doesn't not have bonds with his fellow mutants that would be distorted by the Captain America treatment, but Xavier is almost literally a goddamned institution of the mutant community. The school that bears his name would be radically different if Xavier wasn't there.

Which basically leaves us with Magneto being frozen in the 60's after minimal to no interaction with Xavier, then developing a rivalry with him in the relatively short period between Magneto's defrosting and the nebulous presence. It doesn't not work, but it's just not the same as a rivalry developed as the two of them grew up.

I've run out of stuff to say

So, yeah. Magneto needs to change some decade or another, but the least disruptive solution I see is to slap an anti-aging power on him (and probably Xavier) and hope nobody cares.

Maybe there's a solution someone else sees. Or maybe someone else has an interesting thought about or twist on one of the broad possibilities I've described. If you've read this far, I assume you have some kind of Magneto opinion. Would you like to share it?

#magneto #x-men #marvel #comics #superheroes #timeline #meta

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kvicka · 1 year

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Hogwarts Legacy - game review

I don’t have this one in my Steam library, so I cannot review there. But I want to get my disappointment with killed potential out. Therefore I decided to post one very long review on my Tumblr.

(Doing my best to write this without any spoiler. Also I am not taking in account anything regarding the author of this universe)

Hogwarts legacy is „not bad“ game but I am not sure if it’s really worth the money they want for it. It could have been great game. There is clearly huge potential but I suspect there were few (revenue-driven) decisions to make this accessible to as many people as possible, that killed this potential thoroughly and it makes me angry, seeing how great it could be otherwise.

What are the main issues? The game pretends to be RPG but you will soon find out that your choices have no impact on anything beyond next sentence. The world doesn’t react to you at all. Characters are just unresponsive scripted background unless they are enemy, vendor or you have a mission with them. That means you can also walk whenever you want, no matter how much restricted it is.

I still managed to play through the game. Took me about week and half. I see the appeal and the potential, but it honestly makes me that much angrier for the decisions that were made to bastardise this. After you finish with the main story, you will find out there is zero reasons to replay again.

But because nothing can stop me roleplaying in my head even if the game is not helping, I am also going to publish one more post full of spoilers explaining my character story.

So let’s look into this in detail and as I like to do, start with positives:

Graphic is nice and the music is nice.

The world is nice or at least at first glance. You get big open word plus Hogwarts castle to explore and at first you will feel really charmed. Your fellow students (during day) got some scripted situations that will run, which makes very nice background and gives you the feeling the Hogwarts are really alive. (Some involving ghosts, some howler from angry parent or just some study-troubles).

You can create customized character and give them their own name, that the game will use in subtitles. Through the game you can even adjust some parts of your look (hair, details on face etc.). You have lot of freedom in outfits (equipment) to the extent where you can give the equipment totally different appearance. I was for example regularly updating to equipment with best stats, but in the end my character was wearing almost the same outfit whole game because I just changed the appearance of it.

The story and side stories (with your friends) maybe not mind-blowing but still good. They are simple (in sense that you will not get 12 plot-twists and you can predict where it is leading) but they are not boring. Side quests are sometimes questionable (like sending student to forbidden forest to investigate?? Really lady??…I am underaged student…) but at least they do not feel repetitive.

If you are fan of the universe with deep knowledge of it, you will probably enjoy the references. I personally liked the “follow the butterflies”.

Combat: Because you can combine whatever spells you have learned, in addition to throwing objects or disarmed weapons on the opponent and with ancient magic ability in the mix, every fight can be completely unique.

Yes, the room of requirement that you can “furnish” and the vivarium’s with magical beasts are quite “magical”, I have to admit that. When you get them, it’s very exciting. So is, ridding Hippogryph, at least the first time or other similar things when you get to them in the story.

Now to the ISSUES and in my opinion what made from could-be-great game the not-bad game:

YOUR CHOICES DOESN’T MATTER AT ALL. This is the biggest issue especially as the game tries to look as RPG game. It gives you choices but (beside ending choices) they do not go beyond next sentence or two. The “behaviour” of your character is heavily scripted, which doesn’t have to be bad thing if the game doesn’t pretend you have the choice. And maybe they originally intended for the choices to impact something but they removed it from the game so some poor lazy player would not f**k-up something by wrong choice and cry about it. Or something like that I imagine happened. It gets even worse in some part where the script just reverts your choice completely. Like you decide to keep secret but the game will make your character spill by next opportunity without any good reason to do so…..

THE WORLD DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOU OR REACT TO YOUR ACTIONS. At first you think how beautiful the world is. How the Hogwarts feel alive as some scripted actions run in background when you access the corridor etc. To give them credit some characters have scripted commenting on something you did in the story so far, so you can be fooled at the beginning. It is nice background. And then you find out that these are actually not characters (NPCs) but really just background. Background that doesn’t react to anything you do unless you are in specific quest that triggers that (there are exactly 2 through whole game….). Meaning nobody cares if you wander into restricted section. Nobody cares that you wander the school at night (plus at night all students will disappear….but to where stays the ultimate mystery because dormitories are always and forever empty). Nobody cares that you wander forbidden forest. Nobody cares that you break-into houses. Not even the family that sits on sofa and watches you while you loot their treasure chest. Nor the professor which cabinet you are looting and ruining with blasting spell. Hell, if you get attacked by enemy close to these characters, they do not care. First time I went on some quest outside a castle, I was quite worried if it’s safe to wander the forest. And then I saw some guy on the rode walking in front of me. So, I though, ok, it will be safe… Then big spider attacked me and the guy just glitched through the spider and continued walking while it tried to eat me….. I can understand if the developers do not want the NPCs to engage in player fights but they could at least make them run……. But what is even worse, is that the same applies to the side characters that should be your friends. You have no chance to interact with your “friends” outside the quests. You cannot even talk to them after class. It’s ridiculous. And this could be fixed by simple stupid 2 or 3 generic dialogues that could be given to them. Like “hey, any news on blablabla?” with answer like “hey, sorry. Nothing yet. I will let you know by owl, once I find something new”….. Or “hey, really thanks for last time…….” even with answer like “let’s not talk about this here” or some s**t like that… would make you feel less angry with the whole game. I honestly had HUGE problem with this, because with some “friends”, I had this issue where I was not perceiving them as friend at all and seeing zero fucking reason why I should spill my secrets to them (yes, I talk about you Natty…)

The fact that you can just go anywhere (outside the two mentioned missions) where you can get at that point in game (restriction is basically only learning Alohomora levels) and you don’t need to try and sneak or be careful that you will get caught or reported, that takes lot of fun out of the game

Combat doesn’t have any mechanic for lethal or non-lethal approach. Neither it will anyhow recognize if you were or were not seen. No matter if you use Avada Kedavra or “Petrificus Totalus” on unaware enemy, the result is the same. They turn to dust. Then there is question why to use the stealth approach at all. Honestly it is only useful, if you want to take them down one by one and not fight all at once. I personally prefer to change one of them into explosive barrel and throw him in the face of their friend. That is at least fun.

Open world yes…..but the content it was filled with, beside the story and quests, is very repetitive and often not rewarding sufficiently. From my point of view, I did the things like Merlin trials only up to the point where I was getting at least some benefits from them ( like inventory space) and then I stopped. Because what is really the point of doing them anymore? The treasure vaults are just jokes…there is not even anything valuable in them. You will find just some random equipment (very often not even good one) – and I am not kidding. Killed enemies often drop better things then you can get from treasure chests.

I don’t honestly even see the motivation to keep exploring the word after the main story and side quests are done as whatever is left it is extremely repetitive and unless you are really enjoy brushing your unicorn mane for another 16 or 30 hours, there is nothing more to do after you finish main and side stories.

No point to replay the game. Especially due to fact that your choices don’t matter you will very quickly find out there is no fun in replaying. You cannot really make the character come out much different than the first play. Not even by picking different house. Beside one main story quest that differs based on the house you picked, it will be the exact same script.

Last point I wanted to mention. But first let’s get this absolutely clear!, I am not complaining in this part about any queer characters, disability characters or other nationalities being included in the game. I am not racist, and I am myself part of LGBTQ+. I am just trying to point out that these topics should not be just check-boxes on developers or marketers list. Because then it comes out unnatural as in this case. I understand that this is sensitive topic in current world, but I still think it could have been handled with more delicate approach, then just: “Disability – check, gay – check, trans – check, now throw random mix of nationalities in without any care for location or time period - check. Great and now nobody can complain that we are not inclusive.” I don’t think this is how this shoudl be done.

Reasons behind the bad decisions that killed the game?

This is just my speculation, but I strongly believe that future-revenue-based-decisions were made here. Because they wanted to aim for as much audience as possible. For example the casual players that don’t actually care much about any story. Unfortunately, my suspicion was further strengthened when I stumbled upon one ridiculous post on Reddit, where the user complained that he missed learning one spell because “they are just clicking through all dialogues as quickly as possible to get through and by that selected the answer, where you will not learn the spell”…. well WHY THE HELL DO YOU PLAY DIALOGUE-HEAVY RPG GAME IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO LISTEN TO THESE. The answer is easy. Because the game allows for that. You don’t have to read/listen to the dialogues or even to what you are actually selecting to answer. You cannot spoil anything with your choices and it will have no impact on anything whatsoever. Even in this example case, you can learn the spell straight after the mission anyway. So no matter what you click it will not impact the game or your character or anything. (There are about 2 exceptions. Ending decision for main story. And kinda “ending” decision for one of the side stories. But even with these, they do not affect actually the word after anyway. You will just get different cut-scene let’s say…

I can admit this can be really charming, but it still doesn’t make the game worth 60€ ...

#hogwarts legacy #game review #hogwarts legacy game #fandom

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amatorfilozofus · 4 months

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Scruton on Rorty’s Legacy

Richard Rorty died on the 8th of June, 2007. The English philosopher Roger Scruton wrote an article entitled „Rorty’s Legacy” where he summarises what he takes to be Rorty’s philosophical legacy. In this post I am going to go through Scruton’s criticism and defend Rorty’s views.

I would like to start right at the end of his essay. Scruton does have some nice things to say about Rorty regarding his thought on contingency and irony, but he finds his central disagreement with Rorty on truth: “However I believe that the concept of truth is fundamental to human discourse, that it is the precondition of any genuine dialogue, and that real respect for other people requires an even greater respect for truth. I therefore cannot go along with what seems to me, whenever I encounter it, to be a wholly specious and even cheap way of arguing, which Rorty typified and indeed perfected.”

Rorty’s views on truth sometime might have been expressed in an over dramatized form, which might have alienated some people from his writings. I must admit I don’t know much about Scruton’s views on truth, so I don’t know what he means by it being central exactly. However I do believe Rorty is not challenging the everyday use of truth, what he is challenging is a metaphysical use of truth, such as the correspondence theory of truth. Since he states his disagreement with Rorty and I assume this is not based on a misunderstanding of Rorty it seems to me then that Scruton must be committed to a metaphysical view regarding truth, and then the question is if this metaphysical truth is really necessary for “human discourse” and “respect for other people”. For the first I would like to refer to an essay by Robert Brandom titled "Why Truth is Not Important in Philosophy". Brandom’s philosophy was always endorsed by Rorty, as he takes it to be demystifying, and dissolving standard philosophical problems. Brandom substitutes the central role of truth with that of inference and thereby makes the metaphysical problems of truth obsolete, while at the same time saving everything people take to be important with regards of the concept of truth. I do think Rorty would be happy with this approach outlined by Brandom regarding truth. So I disagree with Scruton, and agree with Rorty and Brandom, that truth doesn’t need to be our central notion for human discourse to be possible. For “respect of other people” I see even less need for the metaphysical concept of truth. Respect for other people to me seems more to be a matter of seeing people as “one of us” rather than “one of them”, which ideally would extent to treating everyone as “one of us” simply for being a human being. I don’t see how a metaphysical theory of truth would help achieving this.

For the claim that Rorty’s way of arguing is cheap, I cannot really say anything except that I respectfully disagree.

“Rorty was paramount among those thinkers who advance their own opinion as immune to criticism, by pretending that it is not truth but consensus that counts, while defining the consensus in terms of people like themselves.”

I don’t think Rorty considered his opinion “immune to criticism”, I can think of many instances where Rorty actually accepted criticism as valid. Rorty was just being a good pragmatist I think when he was considering consensus. We can think about truth as something sublime, which is more than just mere consensus, but if we look to practice, how we are actually going about identifying truth, then unforced consensus with others really seems the best way to truth. As Rorty said: “Take care of freedom, and truth will take care of itself”. I agree with him that ensuring free inquiry is much more important that working out a theory for truth.

Now that we clarified the main disagreement, let’s go back to the beginning of the essay.

Scruton says that Rorty “was a philosopher whose high reputation was bestowed on him, not by fellow philosophers, but by the many literary scholars who took comfort and inspiration from his writings.” This is something which is usually said about Rorty, although I could never understand why. His book “Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature” is praised by prestigious philosophers such as Charles Taylor, Alasdair MacIntyre, and Cornel West, and is released with a forward by Michael Williams (see here). There is a book edited by Robert Brandom titled “Rorty and His Critics”, with articles on Rorty’s philosophy from such people as Jürgen Habermas, Donald Davidson, Hilary Putnam, John McDowell and Daniel Dennett. So I could never understand why Rorty is considered not to be all that influential within philosophy, seems to me he is taken quite seriously.

In the beginning of his article Scruton compares Rorty to Jacques Derrida. „Like Derrida, Rorty had a mind that ranged widely over philosophy, literature and the history of ideas; and like Derrida he was less concerned to present valid arguments than to offer a subversive perspective, in which the distinctions between valid and invalid, true and false, real and imaginary, would disappear or at any rate lose their former importance.” I cannot speak for Derrida, but I think this presentation is misleading regarding Rorty. I agree and I think even Rorty would more or less agree with the statement that he is not (mainly) trying to provide arguments rather he is trying to show us a point of view which makes the standard problems of philosophy seem obsolete. Rorty’s point is not that valid and invalid, true and false, real and imaginary should disappear completely. What he wants is that the philosophical uses of these distinctions should be deflated.

Scruton continues the article with Rorty’s early career as an analytical philosopher, and he finds in it a turning point “At a certain point, however, Rorty suffered a conversion experience, rebelling against analytical philosophy not, primarily, because of its finicky irrelevancies, but because of its entirely erroneous vision - as Rorty saw it - of the nature of human thinking, and of the relation between thought and the world.” This type of “turn” is usually attributed to Rorty but I personally think, after reading his early papers that it is overrated. When I read these early essays maybe I was biased since I read “Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature” first, but it seemed to me that those themes which are in the later book are already present in an embryonic state in the early essays. Also in an interview later about the book Rorty says he didn’t intend the book to be controversial, since what we was trying to do is to bring together arguments from his favourite linguistic philosophers (Willard Van Orman Quine, Wilfrid Sellars and Dondald Davidson). The work of these philosophers can be seen as following up on the classical pragmatist philosopher Peirce, James, and Dewey (for an account of this see John P. Murphy’s book Pragmatism: From Peirce to Davidson.) So my point here is not that Rorty had a sudden change of heart and turned against analytic philosophy: Rorty thought that the best of analytical philosophy is still worthwhile such as Wittgenstein, Quine, Sellars, Davidson and Putnam. But he felt that analytical philosophy is undermining itself with the work of these philosophers and arriving at points which resemble the classical pragmatists. Rorty wouldn’t say that analytical philosophy has an “erroneous vision of the nature of human thinking” what he would say is that, the way we have been thinking about the “nature of human thinking” led to problems which we have been trying to solve unfruitfully for a long time now, what would happen if we took a different view to rid ourselves of the classical “problems of philosophy” and find something better to do?

Scruton then turns to Rorty’s well known book: “Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature” and I think he is right about it being a bit of a “schizophrenic book”. When I read it for the first time I was also puzzled a bit about the view of the mind presented in the first half and the view of philosophy presented in the second. Rorty himself also had second thought later about his book. But I still think that the arguments gathered from Quine and Sellars in service of a pragmatist view is still relevant.

Scuton then says: “Rorty tried to make sense of his new position by espousing a version of "pragmatism" - the school associated with CS Peirce, William James and John Dewey, which holds that the concept of truth is to be understood through that of utility.” I think it is misleading to put things in this order. Rorty was already well aware of pragmatism before he made his “turn”, so he didn’t reach his new position first, and then espoused pragmatism, pragmatism was his motivation all along. The pragmatist theory of truth is one of its most misunderstood features, and unfortunately it seems the pragmatists themselves were quite responsible for this. Rorty himself regretted that this was presented as a “theory” of truth and would have rather avoided giving a theory. What the pragmatists should have done is to say: look, we cannot step outside our language to see if the objects we represent in our language really do stand in a correspondence relation to our sentences about them or not. What we can do is see if our beliefs “work” or not, and if they do we can consider them at least temporarily true. For example if we use relativity theory we can make GPS systems work, so it seems relativity theory is a good candidate for truth. Saying “OK, it works but is it really true?” is asking for some kind of metaphysical justification which science cannot provide, and if science cannot do that, it seems unlikely that philosophers can.

Scruton continues, and this part I would like to quote at length:

“Rorty experimented with highly politicised applications of the pragmatist idea, arguing that "pragmatists view truth as... what is good for us to believe. So they do not need an account of a relation between beliefs and objects called ‘correspondence', nor an account of human cognitive abilities which ensures that our species is capable of entering into that relation. They see the gap between truth and justification not as something to be bridged, but simply as the gap between the actual good and the possible better. From a pragmatist point of view, to say that what is rational for us now to believe may not be true, is simply to say that somebody may come up with a better idea..." (Objectivity, Relativism and Truth, 1991).

That quotation would prompt a quick response from any philosopher suspicious of the pragmatist tendency, namely: "When is one idea better than another? When it is more useful? Or when it is more true? Are we not going round in a circle here?" However, Rorty had become convinced that such questions are irrelevant: they presuppose the very language that he was trying to put in question, the language which makes "truth" the central aim of discourse, and which represents all our utterances as attempts to approximate to a reality independent of our perspective.”

Scruton is completely right in saying that Rorty wanted to put aside these questions. However let me approach this from a different point of view. Rorty is not a relativist. He does not say that one idea is as good as another. What he is saying is that we need to consider better and worse in a given context. It makes sense to ask if one physical theory is better than another. For example does it explain more of the observed phenomenon? Does it lead to more accurate measurements or better predictions? What doesn’t make sense is asking for general criteria when is an unspecified “idea” better than another. For example one could say that an idea is better than another when it is closer to truth in the sense of representing reality more closely than the other. But since there is no independent test for the accuracy of representation of reality than to put the idea to work, this explanation is completely empty.

The final point which I would like to comment on is when Scruton says: “… he [Rorty] tried to reconcile his view that some versions of political order are superior to others, with his belief that there is no trans-historical perspective from which any such judgment can be made. It is a testimony to his literary skills that he was able repeatedly to stare refutation in the face, and to go on staring.” I think this interpretation is completely wrong. Rorty’s point is that you don’t need a “trans-historical perspective”. If someone needs a metaphysical trans-historical perspective to justify that democracy is better than totalitarianism this seems to be an unhealthy obsession with philosophy (see his essay “The priority of democracy to philosophy”). Rorty thought philosophy makes overly ambitions claims, trying to be in a position to evaluate all of the other parts of culture and trying to provide foundations” for them. Rorty believed that the enlightenment was a great step forward by saying we don’t need religion as an authority which tells us what to do, but he thought the project was incomplete. He also wanted people to be emancipated from the need to replace religion with some sort of transcendental reality before which we need to humble ourselves and have the obligation to “get right”. Rorty wanted us to recognize that we only have responsibility for each other and not to anything non-human. I think this message is still inspiring.

#richard rorty #philosophy #roger scruton #robert brandom #pragmatism

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iv-the-enve · 10 months

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[ 19 July 2023 ] ( day 3 . week 3 )

It’s been a minute since I posted one of these journals/

how we feeling today?:

Some mixed feelings, honestly.

Had a bit of a rough start this week thinking about some projects I feel a bit behind on + socializing. I’ve been teetering on full burn-out for a few weeks now and each week seems to get me no closer to my main goal of completing certain projects (although I’m not necessarily getting further from that goal either).

That said - going to the gym last night gave me some time to think more deeply about my work load and work style.

I think I’m settling on how I want to show up as a Black man in a professional (government) setting, literally and figuratively. The political aspects of my work are not my cup of tea, so I’m making a deliberate decision to avoid and reject it altogether. There are people who benefit from considering the political implications of their actions, but I’m not one of them.

The goals I intend to achieve require collaboration and maneuvering, yes, but I shouldn’t have to pretend to be something or someone I’m not. I’ll leave that to people who care about that sh*t. All I care about is living in accordance to my virtues and achieving my personal goals, I don’t care about what legacy I leave or anything like that.

Also I’m thinking of implementing a bit of dress code for myself despite working from home just so I can feel a separation between my work mind state and my home mind state. Plus I feel like I’ll be taken a bit more seriously if I switch up the classic t-shirt look from time to time.

Another wondering I meditated on was my current workflow.

I know I like my work, but I think where I need improvement is procedures, self-guidance, and knowledge/expertise. So, I need to make time during my scheduled day to address these in addition to the project management aspect of my work. As it’s designed now - my foundation for time/project management is rocky, so that’s something that will need to be improved over time (perhaps over the next FY).

Additionally, I want to transition from just working on tasks to actually closing out projects in a manner and timeframe that I can be proud of.

The best place to start will be closing out open worksheets and tasks that are over a year old. Finishing those will allow me more flexibility in creating a more productive/accurate work flow and weekly schedule based on a normal work load.

Last thing - being social with co-workers is low key hard as f*ck.

I know it’s more of a social anxiety in general than it is specific to my co-workers though. Just one of the crippling realizations, reminders and realities of being a Black man in America.🙃

But even so, there’s more to life than constant risk/threat assessment whenever I leave the house / and finding those moments and people that give you joy is a big part of how to process that and continue living. So, especially since I work 40 hours a week with the people, I’ll make a list of people at the Agency to connect with and just make plans one by one.

important task(s) of the day:

Complete worksheet no.18612 and worksheet no. 77911. Will likely do an all-nighter tonight to get this done and off my E-desk.

art of the day:

motivational quote:

#txt.work #workblr #mine #engineering #productivity

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sanjosenewshq · 2 years

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Issues received awkward at work after my husbands posts

Pricey Harriet: I am ordering a messy divorce. I might have most well-liked to maintain the state of affairs personal, however my soon-to-be ex-husband has been upfront about our breakup on Fb. Issues are getting a little bit awkward at work now. I am positive all of my co-workers know I’ve some private points, however I have not addressed something instantly. I’ve a superb relationship with my workforce, and I need to be clear. I need them to grasp how these private issues can have an effect on how I come to work on sure days. How do I deal with this? Transparency Pricey Transparency: If there’s a likelihood that your co-workers will see your husband’s feedback on social media, it is advisable handle the state of affairs. You do not have to enter particulars, but it surely’s smart to inform them that you are going by means of a divorce proper now. It is unlucky however true. Over the subsequent few months, ask for his or her good manners and kindness as you take care of this facet of your life. Don’t go into any particulars relating to the divorce. Do not point out your husband’s social media posts. Ask them to respect your privateness. Resist the temptation to succeed in out to them if they begin asking private questions. Pricey Harriet: A girl she has labored with for a few years on retirement, and our firm plans to honor her with a farewell dinner. It’s firm custom—not a requirement—that every division head give a speech in regards to the retiree at dinner. My boss requested me to say a couple of phrases, as I’ve spoken at a number of farewell dinners previously. Nonetheless, the reality is that I don’t notably like this girl, and I’m 100% positive that she doesn’t like me. She was by no means good to me. We’re pleasant for essentially the most half, however there have been many events through the years when we now have been much less so. I do not assume it will be a good suggestion to say no once I spoke at almost each different farewell dinner, however I merely haven’t got something good to say. Ought to I refuse or ought to I pretend it and do it anyway? Nothing good to say Pricey nothing good to say: Now could be the time for creativity. Do some survey in your job. Ask this girl’s associates at work for tales about her. Acquire enjoyable and candy reminiscences of her time there from a number of individuals. Jot down these tales and make a farewell letter about this retiree who will honor her legacy there. Throughout your presentation, inform these assembled that you simply have been thrilled to be taught so many great issues about this girl once you invited fellow workers to share their tales. Title the contributor as you inform every story so that they get credit score for what they informed you. This fashion, you have a good time this girl and keep true to your self in some ways, together with being the fiancé of the corporate and never mendacity about your relationship along with her. Harriet Cole is a life-style specialist and founding father of DREAMLEAPERS, an initiative to assist individuals attain and make their desires come true. It’s possible you’ll ship inquiries to [email protected] or c/o Andrews McMeel Syndication, 1130 Walnut St., Kansas Metropolis, MO 64106. Originally published at San Jose News HQ

#San Jose News HQ

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softerhaze · 3 years

Photo

start asking for forgiveness in advance, for all the future things I will destroy

light burst credit (x)

#ts4 #z #*privette legacy #*priv:gen2 #*amelia #i like to pretend that i have the time required to post this legacy like i used to #i've just been thinking a lot about millie's adulthood arc + the end of gen 2 so much lately #maybe someday i'll get back to it omg #*speaking terms

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jinmukangwrites · 3 years

Text

@damianwayneweek Day 2 (6-14): Undercover | Sibling rivalry | Damian having a nice day

Warnings: Mentions of trafficking, threats, violence, attempted kidnapping, injuries, healthy doses of angst

Note: hahahahaha once again I'm begging you all to pretend I posted this when it's still the 14th somewhere in the world. Please enjoy.

---

Damian didn't mean to get caught. Honest. As annoying as it is, he understands that there are certain parts of their nightlife that have to be handled by an adult. Going undercover, for one, is usually something that's left to Grayson. It's easier for adults to blend into some things than it is for... well... Teenagers.

Children, as Grayson would say. Even though Damian is not a child.

Not that it matters, however. Grayson, for the past week, has been putting off their normal patrols to get insider information on a recent underground trafficking scheme. Grayson has been working hard to find the people responsible for this and get on the inside to find where the victims are being kept and Damian had respected that. He's kept to the sidelines and worked on other cases that don't require so much adult delicacy.

The only issue was that tonight he ended up getting bored. There wasn't anything for him to do, and that butler wasn't giving him any useful suggestions to fill his time. He wasn't allowed to patrol alone while Grayson was undercover, but escaping through his bedroom window in a dark hoodie was simple enough.

One thing leads to another. He ended up walking into an alleyway where a man was getting rather forceful with a drunk woman. Damian was jogging forward and calling him out on the disgusting behavior before he even realized he recognized the profile of the man.

Grayson turned from the woman with wide, horrified eyes, not moving a muscle even as the woman slipped from beside him and rushed back into the bar's side door.

"Shit," is all Grayson said before more people came out from the shadows, and Damian realizes he's just stumbled upon Grayson's undercover work.

Damian, for all of his training, has no idea what to do as he's suddenly grabbed by one of the newcomers. He's just witnessed Grayson in his undercover work... attempting to kidnap a woman... and he shouldn't be here.

"The fuck did this brat come from," the man grabbing Damian sneers.

Damian reacts instinctively now, slamming his elbow back into their gut. The man wheezes and weakens his hold. Damian then ducks under a new pair of arms making a mad grab for him and is sure to trip them over onto the cement ground as they stumble past.

A beefier man charges at Damian like a bull, and he prepares to retaliate... only for Grayson to grab him by his arm and shove Damian behind his back.

"Wait," Grayson gasps, bringing his free hand up in front of him. The man stops in his tracks, as do all the others. "It's my... brother."

"Your brother?" A woman scoffs, and Grayson gives her a hard look.

A mean looking man steps forward, glaring daggers at Grayson. "What's he doin' here Malone? Thought'chu said you weren't followed."

"I'm sorry," Grayson says, sounding panicked. Damian wants to jump out from behind Grayson and give these kidnappers a piece of his mind. There can't be more than seven of them. Damian can take them with his hands tied behind his back. Grayson must sense this, because he tightens his hold on his arm. "I thought he was at home."

"Well, he wasn't," the man snarls. "And now that bitch is probably in there telling the barkeep some guy got handsy with her."

Grayson shakes his head. "She isn't. I paid off the barkeep. If we calm down, I can go back in there and finish the job. Danny here won't say anything, he knows what we have to do to survive these streets. Right, Danny?"

Damian's lips thin, but he nods. Damian doesn't know why Richard is acting all frightful right now. Has he forgotten the legacy of Damian's father that he holds? He carries the name of Batman, yet here he is looking like a frightened animal in front of these low-lives. He wants to argue and take down these imbeciles... but if there's one thing he's learned while in his ever lengthening stay in Gotham, Grayson usually has a reason for everything he does. If he thinks they need to act like they're frightened, then Damian will humor him. For now.

The man looks down from Grayson and gives Damian a narrowed look. It lasts only a moment before he looks at the bar side-door and... smirks?

He looks back at Grayson, keeping that smirk. "Alright, Malone. I'll take you up on that offer. You get the bitch, and we'll take care of Danny."

A bad feeling settles in Damian's gut. The hand on his arm tightens even more, proof that Grayson has the same bad feeling. They don't have a chance to say anything about it, however, before the man strides forward and grabs Damian by his other arm; yanking him away from Grayson and towards the big man.

Grayson shoots them a murderous glare, but doesn't come to Damian's aid as the big man tightens both of his hands on Damian's biceps. His pointer fingers press just under his shoulders, and he swears his pinkies wrap close to Damian's elbows.

"Go on," the talkative man says, jerking his head to the door, showing his rotting teeth in a grin. "Get the bitch."

Grayson shoots a look Damian's way, then nods. "Okay," he says placidly. "Okay." He turns his back and starts towards the door.

Then, the man looks at another in their group and nods his head. The man's cheeks rise like a Cheshire cat before he starts towards Grayson, raising a fist.

"Grayson! Look out!" Damian shouts. Grayson, for his part, reacts immediately. He ducks under the blow and side steps his attacker.

However, that's all Damian sees before the man that has him in his grasp changes position quite suddenly so that Damian is practically hanging in his grasp—an arm the size of a log wrapped around his neck. Damian's hands fly to the arm and he attempts to kick his feet for purchase. His air is already cut off, and he curses himself for getting in a situation like this.

He stills, however, when something cold and metal is pressed against his head by the man's free hand. Through blurry eyes and choking gasps, he notices Grayson has gone still too.

"I knew you were fishy," the man from before cackled. "Grayson? That your real name?"

Grayson glares, but doesn't move.

"Here's what's gonna happen, you're gon let us do whatever we want wit'cha, and maybe we'll let the kid live after."

And just like that, Grayson is at the receiving end of a savage blow to his jaw from another member of the group. Grayson stumbles and clutches his jaw, but he doesn't fight back even as another jumps in and throws their own punch. Damian can already see blood dripping down his cheek from a cut in the skin.

He's hit again, and he continues to not fight back. Damian knows he'll take the beating, even though he can easily take them down. He won't risk the gun pressed against Damian's head. He won't risk the arm wrapped so right around Damian's neck it feels like he's breathing through a coffee straw.

A particularly savage punch has Grayson falling to the floor, scraping his hands, elbows, and knees on the rough and suspiciously wet asphalt. Damian growls and digs his nails into the arms of his captor, but they tighten the grip threateningly and his struggles are forced to come to a stop.

Pathetic. Idiotic. Childish. This is Damian's fault. Every blow that hits Grayson's body as punches are replaced by kicks might as well be dealt by Damian himself.

He argues with Grayson. Calls him out on not acting how his father would. He calls him incompetent, insignificant, idiotic... but some time these past few weeks the bite he means to carry with those words have turned fond.

He... He likes Grayson. He's the first person to show Damian unconditional kindness... other than his own mother. While being stuck here with him rather than his own father had, at first, been miserable and annoying... it's turned out to be... fun. For the first time in his life, he almost feels like a normal kid with Grayson here to lead him along the way.

Damian wonders at night if that's what his mother intended. Why she hasn't taken him back yet.

He doesn't mind it. He likes the time that he spends with Grayson now, even if he would never admit it. And here he is, helpless and unarmed as Grayson is being beaten to a bloody pulp all because Damian couldn't listen to instructions and snuck out when he shouldn't have.

For a moment, pure terror fills Damian's veins that he's most likely going to witness the death of Grayson tonight. If he tries to fight his captor, he'll get a bullet in his brain. If Grayson decides to fight back, then Damian would die anyways. Grayson wouldn't do that. He would rather die himself.

Another blow hits Grayson's body, and he lays on the ground and groans, unmoving for a worrying few seconds.

Then, the bar door slams open and the woman from before runs out with fire in her dark eyes. No one has a chance to do anything before she kicks the main guy in the jaw, sending him down to the floor with more force than any woman... or man... should have.

Damian doesn't question it. The rest of them are distracted by her sudden entrance, and Damian uses that to his advantage. He throws his hands up and grabs at his captor's distracted face and claws at his eyes. The man yowls and drops Damian, leaving Damian completely free to make his own attack. He easily disarms him and jumps onto his back, wrapping his own arms around the man's neck and squeezing as tightly as he can.

It's all over in a matter of seconds. The man falls unconscious in Damian's grasp, and the woman finishes taking out the others.

She was in on this whole thing too, Damian realizes as she rushes towards Grayson's still form and grabs his arm.

Grayson blinking slowly at her through already bruising eyes and whispering "Donna..." is all the proof Damian needs to confirm his suspicion.

"I got you, boy wonder," Donna says fondly. She helps him to his feet and wraps his arm firmly around her shoulders, helping him stand. She looks at Damian. "You got a way to get us out of here, squirt? The cops are gonna be on their way any minute."

"What-" Damian starts, then pauses. Shame fills his gut. "What about the mission?"

"It's fine," Grayson says with a pained strain in his voice. "They're low in the chain. Won't be missed in prison. Can't give much away. I'll-" he cuts off to gasp as Donna shifts her hold on him. "I'll just try again later."

Damian nods, but the guilt doesn't leave. He looks away from Grayson and Donna to pull out his phone and request Pennyworth send the Batmobile to their position.

The entire way back to the manor is filled with tense silence, broken only by Grayson's hissed curses and groans as Donna helps give immediate first aid to the worst of the bruises and cuts.

Damian... he messed up. He disobeyed Richard and ruined the mission. This woman, Donna, is a better companion to Grayson than Damian ever was. Or will be. They get along. She's kind. She was trusted enough by Grayson to bring her in on his solo mission, and she clearly trusted him enough to go along with it and let herself be captured.

Grayson will never trust him as much as her. He's... He's fucked it all up. He won't want Damian around anymore. He'll want to send him back to the League, and if his mother and grandfather don't take him then his suit and the name of Robin must surely now be forfeit.

Drake will take back the suit, and Damian will forever be left behind by the man he thought... He hoped...

Sitting by his bedside after assisting Pennyworth in dressing Grayson's wounds... he mulls these thoughts over in his head. Grayson is fast asleep, and Donna has retreated upstairs for a shower and dinner by Pennyworth's insistence.

Then, as he's considering leaving so he's not the first thing Grayson sees when he wakes up, a hand grabs hold onto his.

"Don't blame yourself," Grayson whispers, blinking through his puffed up and exhausted eyes. Damian wonders how long he's been sitting here with his thoughts and when Grayson started to awaken without him noticing. "You have the same look in your eyes... That B always did..."

Heat flairs behind Damian's eyelids. He bursts. "But this is my fault. If I hadn't gone out- if I had listened-"

Suddenly, his hand is jerked, and Damian is dragged onto the cot and into Grayson's arms. He attempts to fight the hold, but Grayson holds tight despite his injuries.

"Mistakes happen," Grayson says, "they always do. I will never give up on you, Dames. No matter how many you make. Trust me on that."

He sounds so very much in pain, but he's relentless in his hold. All Damian can do is stop his struggling and lay in Grayson's grasp. His brain studies the words said to him, and his heart wants to believe him. Guilt pools to his throat and he opens his mouth to let it out before he can stop himself.

"I'm sorry," he chokes. He doesn't know when he started to return the hold Grayson had him in. His hands are bunched in the material of Grayson's shirt.

Grayson shushes him. "It's okay," he says. "What's done is done, and we've learned. We're okay. I got you."

And perhaps it's the moment of weakness, but Damian can't help but believe him.

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #dick grayson #robin #nightwing #dc comics #jin writes #fanfiction #violence tw #kidnapping tw #held at gunpoint #guns tw #im just in the mood for batman!dick and robin!damian angst this week huh?#hopefully donna being here made sense lmao

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ckneal · 3 years

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So, there’s this one angel story in the back of my head that I know I wont write. I wont write it, because it’s utter nonsense, with very little regard for the canonical timeline of Supernatural, and a willfully blurry view on what is and is not “in character.” It’s fluff. It’s all fluff, in the form of a bunch of smaller stories that gradually weave together, following the Love, Actually style of storytelling, but instead of problematic love stories, it’s all about angels playing hooky from Heaven after the Fall.

(Seriously, there is no substance here, I swear.)

Stories include Abner, living out the first half of the movie Family Man, struggling to figure out how to be a good father and house husband after he steps into the life of the raging alcoholic who agreed to be his vessel. There’s also a very minor story about Esther (not to be confused with Hester, who is not in this story because she never deserted her post in Heaven) learning to play the part of a little girl and navigating schoolyard politics, but kids can be mean and Esther learns the hard way that Michael’s approach to asserting dominance in Heaven does not translate well. There’s also Daniel and Adina, who both settle into vessels in the same movie theater where a romantic comedy is playing, and fall into a very innocent, play-acting sort of love after they leave the theatre—like little kids pretending to be in love, recreating the scenes from the movie, but at the same time not really understanding it. Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael each trying to roll with the luxurious high roller life style, and awkwardly running into each other at VIP poker games, exclusive spas and clubs, and the occasional orgy that they promptly leave IMMEDATELY after running into a sibling (don’t give me weird looks, Balthazar and Gabriel canonically include that sort of thing in their definition of luxury, and the whole thing of their story is their siblings keep cramping their style). Tyrus is in there bowling, somewhere. Benjamin’s playing arcade games with his wife. And then there’s Thaddeus, my pet favorite minor angel character, realizing what’s happening as he’s falling with all the other faithful angels during the Fall and seizing the opportunity to abandon his life as a guard and torturer, settling into a pop star for his vessel—initially for the sake of the cushy lifestyle, but then gradually looking back, before the garden and Lucifer, before everyone was assigned a job in Heaven, like it or not, and the options were to adapt or to be smote, and remembering that back then, he could sing.

And of course, Michael and Adam get a story too—in which Michael lowkey gets into a pissing contest with death, as he and Adam travel the world, hitting up hospital after hospital to heal people. Because the first thing Adam wanted to do after getting out of the cage (okay, second thing—burgers came first) was go to the nearest medical center and start healing people left and right. And at first, they’re having a great time. Adam steals a white jacket he finds in the breakroom somewhere, and anytime someone says he looks a little young to be a doctor (Adam still looking nineteen years old, because I say so), Michael wipes the poor sap’s mind. But eventually—sometime after they’ve cleared out the children’s ward, the cancer ward, the cardiac ward—Billie shows up, sniping at them that they can’t just go around healing people who are destined to die, because there is an order to life and death that cannot be shoved aside. And Billie tries to make a show of it, as Terra did with Dean, by having several people who Adam had healed over the course of the day inadvertently cause several massive accidents. The news suddenly comes pouring out of the television, channels flipping as newscasters talk about tragedies occurring in several different parts of the city they’re currently in. The sound of approaching ambulance sirens fills the air, as in the hospital hallway, doctors and nurses begin hurrying to receive a rush of ER patients.

Adam’s horrified.

Michael does not take kindly to this. He snaps his fingers and makes it so that the carnage has never happened. Because he is the archangel Michael, only two steps away from being a god, and if he says that all of these people are going to live, then they are going to live, and he WILL NOT be intimidated, especially by an amateur reaper whose only qualification for her position was dying at the right time.

Billie in turn lands Michael with a cold stare, and points out that the order to life and death is beyond even God’s authority, let alone daddy’s blunt, sniveling instrument.

As Michael’s eyes start to glow, Adam steps in and says, “So, to be clear, you want us to stop healing people on the verge of death? We can do that.”

After Billie leaves, Michael is outraged, but Adam says, “No, Michael, THINK about it.”

We then cut to other stories, where newscasts in the background reveal that ailments that are not IMMIEDATELY fatal (AIDs, diabetes, Alzheimer’s, etc.) are mysteriously disappearing overnight, worldwide.

Billie is not amused, and tells her reapers to be on the lookout for an archangel at every major hospital in the world.

Cut to Michael throwing open the door of the bunker, muttering aloud to Adam that he’s going to do it, he’s going to bind Death, just like Lucifer did—how hard can it be? Sam and Dean see him as he goes stomping off toward the cabinet where they keep all of their magical dry goods, but Michael snaps his fingers and the two of them are abruptly half drunk in Dean’s man cave, sitting in front of Dean’s flat screen TV, watching some campy monster movie, because that’s lowkey what Michael and Adam assume they do all day.

As they’re raiding Sam and Dean’s supplies though, Adam says, “Wait, I have an idea.”

Cut to Abner looking up while pushing his vessel’s daughter in a park swing, and literally seeing Michael and Adam chasing an ambulance, so they can technically heal the person inside before reaching the hospital.

Yes, I’m aware that Abner was dead by the time Michael and Adam got out of the cage. But see, this story? This story is like when someone gifts you a goldfish unexpectedly, and you put it in a bowl, checking in to feed it a couple times a day, lowkey expecting it to die. But it doesn’t die, it gets bigger. And you’re not a cruel person, so you put it in a bigger tank, but it just gets bigger again, and you don’t really know what’s going on, but you know, you just kind of keep checking in, meeting the minimum requirements but not really getting in there as a guiding force because it’s a goldfish and it’s surely going to die any minute now—but then you look over and there’s giant tank taking up your living room, and you’re thawing out bloodworms twice a day, and looking into tankmates to keep Charles company, and realize that “Oh wow, I guess this is a thing now.”

In short, the story says we’re ignoring the timeline, and it’s calling the shots. I’m just keeping the tank clean.

The angels all eventually wind up running into each other. Abner and Esther happen upon one another in a park, where Esther is morosely realizing that she is terrible at being a human child but she does not want to go home to Heaven, and it just happens to be the same park where Abner goes with his “little nibblet” once a day to let her toddle around the playground while he chats with nannies and other house parents. Anael, Adina, and Daniel meet up when the latter two’s game has reached the point where they’ve decided to get married, and they apparently need to buy something new—preferably blue—as per this very important rhyme someone told them about. Esther and Gabriel run into each other in an ice cream parlor. Thaddeus gets recognized while doing an interview on TV that everyone sees. And, while out joyriding in a Lamborghini, on their way to meet up with the growing community of angels who decided to opt out of their responsibility to Heaven and their father’s legacy, Balthazar, Gabriel, and Anael are all startled to see Michael land on an ambulance stopped next to them at a red light.

Balthazar and Anael are both terrified, as if they’ve just been busted by a parent, because Michael, of course, is the guy who enforces the rules, and isn’t he supposed to be in Hell? They both shoot Gabriel looks as if to say ‘what the hell are you doing’ when Gabriel, watching as Michael climbs down and matter-of-factly wrenches the ambulance doors open, calls out, “Hey, Mike! Is that you?”

Michael looks over, freezes for a second—not prepared to be suddenly thrust into a social situation in the middle of his self-imposed mission to spite death—then his eyes flash and Adam takes over. “Oh hey, you’re Michael’s family? What a small world! I’m Adam, I’ve heard so much about you. Wait, hang on—”

The light starts to turn green, but Adam snaps his fingers and it promptly reverts to red.

Three jaws drop in the luxury car, and they don’t even hear Adam politely explain that he and Michael are in the middle of something, as he ducks into the ambulance, because Michael’s evidently letting a tiny human use his powers like it’s nothing, and what does that mean?

“Sweet dad in the unknown, Michael’s shagging a human. . .”

“Nooo!”

“HOW?”

“Hey, kid, you like weddings?”

At some point in the story, all the MIA angels are together, and Benjamin or someone comes running in saying, “Quick, they’re coming! Everyone hide!”

And everyone scatters, except for Michael, who stands in place, saying, “Gabriel, we’re archangels, two of the most powerful beings in existence. Why would we—”

And then Gabriel picks Adam up like a sack of potatoes and sprints off, calling back, “Trust me, you do NOT want to get involved with them!”

Being a projection, Michael is obligated to follow.

Team Free Will then walks by, looking constipated from whatever Big Awful Thing is currently threatening to destroy the world.

The story, of course, culminates in the wedding of Adina and Daniel, who still don’t quite understand what marriage is beyond promising to love each forever, which of course they will, after all, they are the very best of friends—which is about the same concept that most of the other angels present have. Adam is the first one to actually approach the big awkward question, upon finding out who the bride and groom are.

“Wait, aren’t they brother and sister?”

To which Serafina’s Adam, (who is of course there since Serafina was the original angel to play hooky) whose sons married his daughters, and all the angels, who do not understand what that has to do with anything, all cock their heads in unison and respond with, “So?”

Adam struggles to find words, looking into so many innocent faces. Then Benjamin’s wife puts a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Shhh, let them have their fun.”

Benjamin’s wife and the two Adams wind up sitting at the venue’s bar, where they order nachos from a very confused bar tender, and watch as the angels go about setting up a wedding. But given that most angels haven’t been on earth regularly in roughly two thousand years, none of them have a clear grasp of what a human wedding entails.

“I heard it’s traditional for the father to give away the bride.”

“I think they’re supposed to kiss over bread.”

“Do humans still slaughter cows at these things?”

“I’m pretty sure someone is supposed to break a glass—”

Several angels promptly throw glassware on the floor.

At no point do the angels ask the humans for advice.

Occasionally, Gabriel knowingly throws out obscure details to keep the confusion going.

“You know, the groom needs to stand with the right arm to the aisle in case a sword fight breaks out.”

“Right! . . .How do we know which one’s the groom?”

At the bar, Adam open’s his mouth to say something, but the original Adam shushes him.

“No no, son, let them get there.”

The angels agree that being the better fighter, Adina should be the groom.

They’re nearly ready to start when Michael suddenly doubles over with his hand over his mouth. It coincides with the sound of Adam pounding the bar top, having just eaten a Carolina Reaper pepper on dare. Michael’s eyes quickly flash silver-blue as he straightens, and both he and Adam are abruptly fine—even if their eyes are still watering somewhat. But a different sort of damage has already been done, as Anael, Balthazar, and Gabriel all abruptly turn toward the triad of humans, having been reminded that the Michael walking around with them is actually a projection. In actuality, Michael is anchored to the human ex-college student sitting at the bar.

All three of them rush toward Adam, but Serafina gets there first, asking Adam if he’s ever tried mushroom tea.

Balthazar gets there next.

“Adam, was it? We didn’t get to talk in the car, let’s fix that. Are you over twenty-one? You know what, this is a family affair, don’t worry—CAN I GET TWO SHOTS OF DON JULIO OVER HERE?”

From that point on, any time Adam turns around, there’s one of Michael’s siblings, wanting to get to know him—by consuming some sort of beverage. Because Adam and Michael are sharing body—and that means they share a liver too. A bet ensues as to how much it will take to get God’s alleged favorite wasted.

Gabriel’s actually one of the first out, having been convinced that Michael would be a lightweight. Little does he suspect that Benjamin and his wife caught onto what was happening soon after Adam was fed his third long island iced tea and second jager bomb, and began quietly cleansing the alcohol from his system through casual shoulder pats and high fives.

Adam does not know what to make of any of this, but it’s Michael’s family and he wants to make a good impression, so he just goes with it.

Thaddeus, of course, is in charge of music, Gabriel and Esther consume the majority of the cake, and Michael catches the bouquet (he may have cheated after finding out what the bouquet toss is for).

#my thoughts #lowkey might be putting this idea out so it'll leave me alone #midam #supernatural angels #the divine shurley family

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manndo · 3 years

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not today, but someday [oberyn martell x reader]

gif credit

pairing[s]: oberyn martell x female!reader

warning[s]: 18+ due to heavily implied sexual content (no actually smut), sexual references/situations, mentions of breeding (in reference to conceiving a child), swearing; talks of pregnancy & the inability to conceive; fluff; angst; oberyn being oberyn (is that a warning??); no mention of ellaria; possible inaccuracies about got (see notes)

word count: 5.4k (ummmm, whoops?)

prompt[s]: none.

summary: all you had ever wanted was a little one, a child to call your own. and yet, months later, you were still without child. still barren, and your dream of becoming a mother seemed to be slipping away.

author’s notes: okay, so, let me start off saying this -- oberyn martell has taken over my life and i have spent much time yearning over him. and, in doing so, i got this idea one day because, as we know, oberyn had eight daughters. so, i thought, what if he had a s/o who could not seem to conceive? hence, this fic. but, i have never watched an episode of got in my life. i have seen his scenes (besides, you know, that scene because in my head, oberyn is alive and well and having all the berries and orgies he wants & i just can’t handle that much violence) and i have read some articles about the show, seen the gifs/posts on tumblr, and talked to people who have watched it in the past eight+ years. but that the extent of my knowledge of got. so, i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies that this fic holds. and i hope that my characterization of oberyn is good. also, no ellaria -- i just did not feel like she fit in this in anyway possible, and i did not want to force her into the story, so to speak. well, i think that is it! so, on with the show! all mistakes are my own. comments/reblogs/likes are much appreciated. thank you! ❤️

“I am sorry, m’lady.”

You did not know what else you were expecting. You knew, deep down, that nothing had changed. You did not need the maester to tell you that you were still without child — you knew. But, Oberyn had instead you call up on them, and you were too tired to argue. You also hoped you were wrong, and Gods did you want to be wrong. But, you were not.

You plastered on a polite smile for the maester. “It’s quite alright,” you said, your voice tight as you forced your emotions down. You weren’t going to shed any tears in front of the maester; you would never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry, save for your husband. You nodded your head toward the door. “That’ll be all. Good day.” The maester bowed lowly before turning on their heel and exiting, the large wooden door shutting with a resounding, empty thud.

The sound echoed in your head and heart; it seeped into your veins, and began to settle in your bones. The sound felt like a finality of sorts. An ending before anything could even begin.

A short, broken sob escaped your lips, and you quickly slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound from breaking free. However, it did not matter — the dam had broken, the heartache released. Another sob escaped, muffled by your palm as you squeezed your eyes closed, and laid down on your bed. Your body curling into itself as tears easily flowed down your cheeks, staining them. You felt as if your body was turning on you, tearing you apart at the seams as you shook violently with your cries.

For eight months now, the two of you had been actively trying for a babe, an heir for Oberyn. Not that he himself required an heir — he had eight beautiful daughters, his Sand Snakes, whom he loved dearly no matter their status. But, when the two of you had been wed over a year ago, there had been an unspoken expectation placed upon you both. Oberyn paid no mind, and told you to do the same, but that was easier said than done.

You had always wanted to be a mother, wanting to have babe upon babe running around, mucking up your home and tugging at your skirts. To watch them grow and prosper, becoming handsome young lads and beautiful young ladies, all whom would be intelligent and strong, but caring and kind. To have your legacy, no matter how small or large it would be, live on thorough them. Perhaps there was a small sense of duty, as a woman, that made you yearn to have children. But, you knew that was not the whole picture. Children were beautiful, wonderful, and loving. They were gifts, and you want to have those gifts, to cherish and love them till you were dead and buried. You wanted it, with all your heart, and yet, it seemed like fate was delivering you a cruel hand.

There had been, one fleeting moment in the very beginning of your wedded bliss, where you were positively sure you were with child. You had been so sure, so eager to see the maester; however, you had quickly been proven wrong by your own body betraying you. You’d spent the day in your chambers, unwilling to leave for any reason. Oberyn had found you curled deep in your silken sheets that evening, and try as he might with his quiet, reassuring words, he was unable to pull you from your depressive state. So, he had held you — silently, but tightly, pressing soft kisses across your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. He let his fingertips brush against your skin, tracing nonsensical patterns across your hips, your stomach, your chest, anywhere he could reach. His touches were light, and his movements were sluggish. He comforted you silently, the best way he knew how, and you allowed him to do so. It hadn’t eased the pain completely, but it had been enough.

But, slowly, the days had turned to weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and nothing changed. It did not matter that the two of you had stopped bringing others into your bed to focus solely on each other, for Oberyn to focus solely on you. Nor, did it matter how many times he filled you with his seed, or how willing and open you were to taking what he offered. It did not matter day, afternoon, or night. Nothing mattered. Because here you were, still without child. Barren.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as the tears flowed and the sobs continued to wrack your body as you laid curled in your marriage bed. Your hand maiden had knocked on the door at one point, but you had been quick to dismiss her before she could enter and find you in your current state. She had not come back and you were grateful.

But then, finally, everything came to a standstill; the tears you had been crying seemed to dry up, and your body had stopped trembling. You took a deep, shuddering breath and unfurled yourself, allowing your limbs to stretch out across the sheets. The tears were still clinging to the corners of your eyes, but most of them had already dried and stained your cheeks and neck. You pushed yourself to sit on the side of your bed, and roughly wiped away at your face, brushing away the outward sings of your heartache. You silently wished you could easily wipe away the heartache in your chest, too. The one that had buried itself so deeply in there.

You hadn’t even noticed the door to your chambers opening, didn’t even hear a voice calling out to you. It was only when the door shut — that hollow, empty thud — that you were brought back, your head whipping toward the sound. “Oberyn,” you said, your voice soft, a breathless whisper. He wasn’t supposed to be here; from what you recalled, he was supposed to be kept busy with mundane princely duties (his words, not yours). You weren’t supposed to see him till this evening — and from the way the sun was peeking through the curtains, it could only be mid afternoon — which would have given you plenty of time to steel yourself. To gather yourself together, lock your heartache and pain away before delivering the news. To pretend that it didn’t cut into your soul, didn’t rip you apart from the inside out. “What are you—”

“I had a free moment,” he said, making his way toward you, his golden robes flowing effortless around him. There was a smile playing at his lips, which told you that he actually did not have a moment — he made a moment to come and see you.

You felt the heartache clawing at your throat, fighting to be released.

Quickly, you pushed yourself to stand, and turned away from him in a futile attempt to hide your face. He would come closer; he would see your pain, your sorrow. Because, though you had wiped away the tears and the stains they had left behind on your cheeks, your eyes were still red and puffy. The pain and heartache still lingering behind your eyes.

God, you had hoped to have more time, more time before you had to tell him. Before you had to watch the sadness and disappointment appear, filling his rich, beautiful brown eyes. You wanted more time.

A pragmatic pause. “Love,” he said, his voice sounding strained, painful. Your actions had spoken louder than words, it seemed.

You could feel a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes, your hand grasping at the dress clinging loosely to your side. You fisted the fabric tightly and closed your eyes, willing yours tears to stay put, to not fall. You heard Oberyn call out for you again, this time your birth name falling from his lips just before you felt him come closer. He hadn’t touched you, not yet, but you could feel his presence only mere inches behind you.

“Love,” Oberyn whispered once more, this time as you felt his hand wrap gently around the fist at your side, the other coming to wrap around your waist. “I am—”

“Don’t,” you breathed out, the word sounding more like a broken sob than anything coherent. You broke away from Oberyn, and thankfully, he let you go. “I cannot bare another I am sorry, especially from you, husband,” you said, your voice harsher than you had intended, angrier. Not at him, no, you could never be angry with Oberyn. No, you were angry at yourself. This was your fault; you were defective, broken, unable to provide him and yourself with the one thing you had so desperately wished for. “I have heard enough apologies to last me a lifetime.”

You felt his fingertips brush gently against your arm, the lightest of touches, barely there. A soft gesture to tell you he was there, and that he would not leave. You took a shaky breath, and loosened the grip on the fabric in your hand, letting the dress fall back against you. “There is no rush, my love,” he said, his voice soft and tentative, as if he knew he was treading rough water. And, he was.

A choked chuckle escaped your lips, and you turned to face your husband. “For you, perhaps,” you said, letting your eyes take in his appearance. He looked as handsome as ever, but he was growing older, as was the consequences of living. Over time, more grey had appeared in his hair and his beard, and a few more lines and wrinkles adorned his regal face. Even his stomach had gone a little soft (not enough for anyone besides you to notice). But, he was still the man you had met many moons ago. Still the Red Viper. Sill the man could make any woman or man fall to their knees and beg for his cock. “You, my stallion, can breed until you’re dead. The same cannot be said for myself.”

“I do not think I would call myself a stallion, my dove. Not anymore.”

You snorted, and turned away from him, letting your eyes look down at your marriage bed. You ran a hand across the silk sheets. “With the way we’ve been fucking these past few months, I’d disagree.”

You heard an amused chuckle escape his lips. “I may be able to still mount you like a stallion, but perhaps, I can no longer bred you like one.”

You looked over your shoulder at Oberyn, and raised your eyebrow. “Don’t tell me the father of eight daughters doubts his ability to breed?”

His shoulders gave a small shrug before he reached out to you, wrapping his callused hand around your wrist. Oberyn brushed the rough pad of his thumb over your pulse point. “I am not in my prime anymore, my dove. Perhaps, the fault does not lie on you.”

You looked away from him and back toward your marriage bed. You felt him take a step closer before you felt the press of his lips against your shoulder in the briefest of kisses. The hand holding your wrist slide down, his fingers intertwining with yours. “You’re taking pity on me, husband,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I would never,” he said, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. He pressed another kiss to your shoulder before his chin came to rest there, his beard tickling your skin ever so slightly. “I am merely stating a possibility,” he mumbled, the hand holding yours moving, arm shifting to wrap around your waist, hands still tangled with one another. “A truth, perhaps.”

You scoffed. “You cannot be serious, my prince.”

Oberyn hummed, and placed a soft kiss on your neck. “I am,” he mumbled into your skin. “I could deny reality, if I wished, but denying the inevitable does not change the outcome.”

“So,” you swallowed and looked down at your tangled hands that were resting on your stomach. You took a deep breath. “You do not think of me as a failure?”

Before you could blink, Oberyn had spun you around to face him. His rich, dark eyes were narrowed, but there was no anger behind his eyes. “You are not a failure, my love,” he said, his voice filled conviction. He reached out, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Please, do not think of yourself as one.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “There are not many things women are afforded in this life, Oberyn. Many of us are not giving the promise of kingdoms, riches or lands when we are but babes,” you stated, your voice hard, irritation lacing your words. “But this, the gift to bare children, we are born with that. That is ours,” you said, your voice softening as your throat tightened and tears welled at the corner of your eyes. You closed your eyes, and feel another swipe of his callused thumb across your cheek. “I know I am worth more than my anatomy. I know that my anatomy does not define me. That this, this failure,” you said, your voice catching in your throat, “this inability to conceive, does not define me.” You swallowed, and opened your eyes, looking into Oberyn’s deep, chocolate orbs. “I know these things, Oberyn. I know them. But, it cuts me deeply, so deeply that I feel as if I am bleeding out with no way to close the wound.”

“My dove,” he said softly, his other hand coming to rest on your other cheek. He held your face gently between his hands, his features soften, and you could see a pain in his decadent eyes. A pain that was reflected in your own. “Your pain is my pain, know that. And know, there is nothing I would not give up in this world in order to give you the gift of a child,” he said, and you could tell that he meant what he said. He wanted this as much as you did, you both wished for this, silently prayed for this. And yet, barren.

You watched as he removed one of his hands from your cheek, sliding it down your neck, shoulder, down the middle of your chest, between your breasts and coming to rest on your stomach. Oberyn looked down at his hand, as did you, and spread his fingers across your stomach. “What I wouldn’t give to see you swell with our babe,” he said, and if you listened close enough, you could hear the slight hitch in his breath. You placed your hand over his on your stomach, fingers resting between his. “To see them suckle at your breast, to tug at your skirts, to wreak havoc in the halls.” He gazed back to you, and you felt a lump forming in your throat, a fresh set of tears prickling at the back of your eyes. “The sound of their cries and laughter filling the rooms. To see them as they grow and blossom.” He paused, and you could see he was choosing his words carefully. You felt a knot grow in your stomach. “But, I am starting to think—”

“Please, Oberyn,” you interrupted, your voice cracking as you closed your eyes, your fingers tightening their grip on his. “Do not say—”

“We need to take a step back, my love.”

Your eyes snapped opened. That was not exactly what you expected. You had expected him to say that you two should give up, forget the notion of ever having your own babe. Perhaps, he would even suggest an orphan child; you were not opposed to the idea, you loved children and would gladly be a mother to a child in need of one. But, you were not ready to give up the idea of having your own yet.

“A step back?” you asked, your eyes filled with confusion as you released your grasp on his hand. You were not entirely sure where your husband was going with this statement. You could not imagine that he was implying to stop fucking. Though Oberyn had aged, he still enjoyed the pleasures of sex (as did you) and the idea that he would give that up? Preposterous. “Are you suggesting we stop fucking, dear husband?”

Oberyn looked aghast at your suggestion, and it made the corner of your mouth tick up. “What a ridiculous notion, dear wife,” he said, mimicking your words back to you, his voice sounding almost betrayed that you would think such a thing. Even suggest such a thing. “Besides,” he started, voice dropping an octave in tone and pitch as he moved both hands, the one on your stomach and the one on your cheek, to come and rest on your hips once more. Oberyn’s callused fingers dipped into your hipbone and held tightly, almost too tightly. It barely phased you. “The idea that I could keep my hands, mouth and cock to myself around you is absurd,” he muttered, a wicked grin spread across his face, his dark eyes flashing with lust. It lasted only a moment before the smirk fell, and a serious look appeared upon his face. “However, if you wish to cease—”

You shook your head. “No, no,” you muttered. “I could not do that to you.”

“My love—”

“I’ve already asked too much of you by ceasing our activities with others.”

“Which,” he started softly, “I had no issue forgoing for you, my dove.” He paused and removed on have from your hip. He placed a finger under your chin and pushed up, lifting your head to make sure that your eyes caught his rich, dark orbs. “You have my body, my heart, and my soul. I love you. Whatever you need, I will comply.”

Your heart swelled in your chest. Oberyn partook in every pleasure imaginable, had never denied himself and tried almost every sexual act under the sun. And yet, here he was, willing to forgo sex for you. You knew he loved you, but this? This proved how far he would go for you, the lengths he would go to make sure you were well, that you were content. Whatever you needed, it seemed, he would gladly give it to you.

“No, Oberyn,” you started and he opened his mouth once more, but you stopped him as you placed a hand on his cheek. “I am — I have no problem continuing our sexual activities.”

You watched as Oberyn studied you, his dark eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might be hiding the truth from him. After a moment, he seemed content with what he found. He nodded and removed his finger from your chin. “Then, that is settled. But, I think, my dove we may have put too much pressure on ourselves,” he murmured, turning his head into your palm, and pressing a soft kiss to the center of it. “Not that our lovemaking is not pleasurable, it most certainly is, always,” Oberyn said, turning his gaze back to you, slipping on another mischievous smirk his let his free hand come to rest just below your breast. “But, perhaps, we’ve forgotten what it is like to be us,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your neck as you let your hand fall from his cheek and back to your side. “Without pressures.” Another kiss, lips moving down. “Without worries.” And, another, lower. “Only us.” His final kiss landed on your shoulder. “Return to an earlier time, when we had first laid eyes upon each other. Do you remember those days, my love?”

You nodded. You remembered those days vividly; the hours spent walking through the water gardens, talking about everything and nothing. The nights spent together, tangled in each other, exploring each other with hands, lips and teeth. Back then, all you had wanted to do was learn about the man you shared your bed — and soon, your life — with, and he had wanted the same. Oberyn still attended to his duties, as required, but every moment when he was not busy, he was with you and you were with him.

Then, when you had married, more of your time had become consumed with your own requirements and duties as well as his own. Much of your time together was spent was in the evenings, in your bed in hopes of conceiving a child.

“Perhaps, my love,” Oberyn started again, “we need to allow ourselves to enjoy each others company, get lost in each other.” A brief pause. “In and out of our bed.” You caught Oberyn’s dark orbs, and him yours. The hand on your ribs was removed, and placed instead upon your cheek. You leaned into his touch. “What do you say, my dove? We do not forgo our dream of one day having a babe of our own. We just,” he paused, for a moment, a thoughtful look in his eye, “allow ourselves not to be pressured or burdened by the notion? Return to simpler times, so to speak?”

You let your husband’s suggestion mull in your head for a moment. Perhaps, he was right; perhaps the two of you had been too focused on conceiving a child that you had, unintentionally, made sex a burden. Oberyn was not wrong; your times with him were always pleasurable and the two of you never fucked if either of you was in no mood to engage in sex. But when you did, perhaps, the burden was there, always lingering in the back of your mind. That the burden had become an unknown weight upon you, upon Oberyn. It would be nice to silence that burden for a while.

“My love?”

You blinked and focused your gaze back on Oberyn. His deep brown eyes were studying you, patiently waiting for your response. You smiled softly at him. “You are right, my prince,” you agreed, and you watched as a triumphant look filled his eyes, the corner of his lip ticking up. You narrowed your gaze slightly. “Watch that ego of yours, husband.” Oberyn chuckled lowly and moved to grasp your hips. He pulled you tight against him, a wicked smile on his face.

��Or what, dove? Hm?”

“Or,” you started, lifting arms and wrapping the loosing around his neck and shoulders, “it will get you killed one day.”

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “Will it now? By whom?”

You held your chin up. “Me.” Oberyn laughed, the sound filling your shared chambers, and now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “You doubt me, my prince?”

“I do not doubt, your strength, my love,” he said through the laughter, which slowly began to die down as the milliseconds passed. “Or your cunning wit. However, I do know that you love me too much to even harm a hair on my head.” He paused and titled his head. “Well, unless in the throes of passion, of course,” he added, another mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “Then well?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It cannot be helped.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but you knew the smile pulling at your lips betrayed you. “Whatever you say, my prince,” you muttered.

Oberyn hummed thoughtfully. You had thought to say something else, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Oberyn’s lips were on yours, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. And, you willing granted him entry. His tongue slid harshly against yours, warm, wet and unyielding. A small moan escaped your lips as your arms tightened around his neck, fingers tangling into the curls at the nap of his neck. You used your hold to pull yourself even closer to him, pressing your chest against his as you slipped your thigh between his legs, pressing it against his swelling cock. A low growl escaped his throat, one that was eagerly swallowed by your lips as his grip on your hips tightened.

There was a loud knock at your chamber door.

Oberyn barely pulled away, mumbling, “ignore it,” against your lips before sliding his lips against yours again. And, you had planned to, already lost in the taste of him. However, the moment his tongue had slipped back in to your moth, there was another knock. This time, much louder.

“M’lord?” It was one of the man servants. “Are you in there?”

Oberyn groaned and pulled his lips away from yours reluctantly. “Yes,” he responded, his voice stern, but somewhat out of breath. You smiled. “But.” One of his hands travelled from you hip, up to your side, coming to rest on your breast. He kneaded the flesh, and you let out a soft mewl, heading falling back, eyes closing. “I am very, very busy. So, if you’ll ex—”

“Your presence is requested, m’lord.”

Oberyn rolled his eyes. “By whom?” he asked, but he did not bother to move toward the door to let the servant in, only lowered his head to your neck. He gave the skin at the base of your neck a quick, hard nip. You let out a small yelp of surprise mixed with pleasure as you tugged on Oberyn’s dark locks once more.

You were sure the man servant now knew exactly why Oberyn was busy — or, more accurately, whom he was busy with.

“Your brother, m’lord,” he answered, his voice tight and proper.

Oberyn growled against your skin in irritation before he nipped the skin again, this time worrying the skin for a brief moment. “Oberyn,” you whined, the sound a little louder than a whisper. Another nip in the same area. You were sure you’d have a bruise within the hour. You straightened your neck and opened your eyes. “Oberyn,” you said again, trying to quell the ever growing arousal pooling between your legs. However, his name sounded too breathless and needy on your lips. You glanced down at him the best you could, and saw his dark orbs shining with lust. Oberyn gave a sly smirk.

“M’lord?”

You knew he didn’t want to go, that he would rather lose himself in your body and pleasure. However, you knew that if he did not go now, it would only mean more time away from each other later.

“M’lord? He wishes to speak with you as soon as possible. If you could please open this door, and—”

“Go,” you whispered, ignoring the man servant’s plea, scratching at the back of Oberyn’s neck and giving him a soft smile. “The sooner you meet with him, the sooner you are back in our bed.”

Oberyn raised his head, his eyes watching you closely. The hand resting on your breast slide up and over your shoulder. His callused fingers began to play with the strap on your gown. “And you will be waiting for me?”

“Of course,” you answered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Unless, you’d like to visit the brothel tonight?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a while, my prince, and that is my fault. I know I asked you, and you willingly followed my request. But, I do not wish to hold you back anymore. If you would like to share a bed again, I am more than willing to share tonight.”

Oberyn leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, but before it could go farther, he was pulling away. He grinned down at you. “Perhaps another night, my dove. Tonight, I plan to keep you.” The hand on your hip slide off and over, his hand cupping your clothed and aching center. A small whimper escaped your lips, and Oberyn’s own lips twisted into a wicked smile. “And, this pretty cunt all to myself tonight.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell, making you shiver. “Make you come undone upon my tongue for hours,” he whispered, the word sending a fresh flood of arousal between your legs.

“Oberyn—” your voice sounded choked, hoarse, needy.

“Before I finally sink into that tight little cunt.” He pulled your earlobe between his teeth, and worried the skin. You groaned, eyes falling closed as you grasped at his upper arm for support. His teeth released your lobe. “And fuck you until the sun rises.”

You bite down on your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape your throat. Oberyn pulled back, hand sliding from your aching center to your hip, and looked at you, that wicked grin still pulling at his lips. “Perhaps—”

“M’lord?” The man servant sounded terse, clearly annoyed that he was still standing outside the door. You glanced at Oberyn to see him roll his eyes, irritation clearly written on his face. “I am sorry, but, I believe—”

“Tell him I will be there in a moment,” Oberyn all but growled through the door at the man servant. You gently swatted at his chest, and gave him a look that silently told him to be nice. Oberyn sighed. “If you would be so kind,” he added, his voice much less demanding as he glanced over his shoulder toward the door.

“Um, I would,” the man started, “but he — he requested that I personally accompany you, Prince Oberyn.”

Oberyn rolled his eyes once more. “Of course he did,” he muttered.

You bite your lip once more, this time trying to stifle a giggle that threatened to erupt. However, it escaped — a meager sound, but a giggle nonetheless. “He knows you all too well, my prince.”

“That he does,” he muttered, and let out another heavy sigh before turning his head and attention back on you. “You’ll be fine, my dove?”

And, you knew what he was asking. He was not just asking if you would be fine while he was away, or if you would be fine for the rest of the day. No, he was asking that and more, much more. Oberyn was asking if you’d be fine from here on out with what you two had agreed upon. Would you really and truly be fine with forgoing your want for a babe? Forgoing the need you had created to conceive a child for the foreseeable future. Were you, for now, fine with only having him in your life? No children, only him, only your prince. Only your husband. Only Oberyn.

You smiled sweetly, and reached out, placing a hand upon his cheek. “Yes, my love. As long as you promise to stay by my side until one of us takes our dying breath.”

Oberyn smiled, his dark orbs shining brightly with love and adoration for you. He reached out and covered your hand on his cheek with his, squeezing your fingers gently. “Promise.”

You nodded. “Now,” you started, letting your hand slide from his cheek, his fingers still grasping at yours, “go on. Before your brother comes and hunts you down himself.”

Oberyn scoffed, and looked toward the door. “That’ll be the day,” he muttered, and you chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“Go,” you said, voice a little stern as you gently pushed at his shoulder in an attempt to move him toward the door.

Oberyn laughed softly and untangled his fingers from yours. “Fine, my dove, I am going,” he muttered, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips. “I will see you in a few hours.” Oberyn took a step back from you, his eyes never leaving yours. He grinned and took another step back. “Make sure you’re ready for me.”

You smirked. “Do not worry about me, my prince. I will be,” you said and he grinned, all teeth and wicked before turning on his heel, and leaving your shared chambers.

The door shut behind him with a resounding thud, but this time, it did not cause you heartache. There was no finality or dread that sank into your bones. It was just the sound of a door opening and closing, as they always do.

Perhaps, you had closed the door on your dreams of having little ones. But, it wasn’t locked; you could open that door once more, when the time was right. Or, perhaps, you’d find another door, another way. However, right now, you would enjoy the idea of a closed door.

taglist (for pedro characters):

@over300books

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #my writing

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jaanusbooktalk · 2 years

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Mirage by Somaiya Daud - Review

10/10 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

TWs: Colonialism, ethnic discrimination, violence, kidnapping

(TWs are ranked in order of severity)

I didn’t think I’d be giving a book 10/10 this early, but here we are. I am blown away. Every once in a while you pick up a book that is so absolutely stunning and riveting that it’s basically glued to your side. This is one of those books. The diversity, the characters, the culture, the romance, THE POETRY puts this debut novel by Somaiya Daud right up there with We Free the Stars by Hafsah Faizal (also amazing, please check it out!)

The Summary:

“In a star system dominated by the brutal Vathek empire, eighteen-year-old Amani is a dreamer. She dreams of what life was like before the occupation; she dreams of writing poetry like the old-world poems she adores; she dreams of receiving a sign from Dihya that one day, she, too, will have adventure, and travel beyond her isolated moon.

But when adventure comes for Amani, it is not what she expects: she is kidnapped by the regime and taken in secret to the royal palace, where she discovers that she is nearly identical to the cruel half-Vathek Princess Maram. The princess is so hated by her conquered people that she requires a body double, someone to appear in public as Maram, ready to die in her place.

As Amani is forced into her new role, she can’t help but enjoy the palace’s beauty—and her time with the princess’ fiancé, Idris. But the glitter of the royal court belies a world of violence and fear. If Amani ever wishes to see her family again, she must play the princess to perfection...because one wrong move could lead to her death.”

TL;DR A village girl is abducted from home by the conquerors of her planet (the Vathek) to become a body-double for the Vathek princess. She starts to fall in love with the princess’s fiancé, but her life depends on convincing everyone that she is who she’s pretending to be.

I found this book through a tik tok video from @fawfal who never fails to give the best recommendations. I heard the words “fantasy” and “Arab poetry” and I was hooked. This book is heavily inspired by Moroccan culture and history, while also futuristic with sci-fi elements.

For representation, from an outside perspective I think it does a lot. The author worked really hard to include good translations and to incorporate a variety of language into the book, because the Vathek (conquerors) and the Kushaila (native people of Andaalan) speak different languages. The book addresses a lot of real world problems like colonization and it’s legacy, and how it affects people on every level of the power structure.

There was this one part that made me cry near the beginning of the book, where Amani (main character) is describing her world post-Vathek invasion, the only world she’s ever known. She talks about wanting desperately to find a place, a home that has been destroyed and taken from her but not even being able to envision it, and that hit me where it hurts.

Side note: colonization is a heavy topic. it’s more than just taking over a place, it’s conquering a people, taking their culture to try and break their spirit. Mirage deals with this really well, and expresses the pain of those who have lost so much.

What I liked:

Firstly, Daud’s prose is amazingly detailed and rich, without going overboard. I could clearly envision every scene, and someone really needs to make a Mirage Pinterest board! What I loved the most however were the relationships between the characters. The relationship between Amani and her brother Hussnain made me miss my siblings deeply, and her close knit community pulled on my memories and heartstrings.

More than just good representation, there’s something beautiful about reading stories that speak to you. The scenery is beautiful and reminds me of the word “hiraeth”: A deep longing for one’s home.

From celebrations with dancing, food, and traditional music under a sky full of stars to wandering empty courtyards in palaces rich with history, Mirage’s world draws you in and doesn’t let go till the last page.

Also, the poetry was gorgeous. I fell in love with Arabic poetry a while back, and it never fails to take my breath away.

I’m a big believer in the idea that BIPOC joy is a revolution - because against all these forces, we are still happy in spite of them. In Mirage, one of the members of court (Furat) says:

“Even your happiness is rebellion.”

Amani replies with something along the lines of:

“But it will not win the war.”

This was really important to me because it helped me realize that yes, joy is a revolution, but sometimes you need more than that. Amani is the type of heroine who steps up to that, despite the risks. She is a far stronger person than I could ever be, considering what she goes through. It had me rooting for her throughout the book, even when she had to make tough decisions.

Finally, two things brought this book to a ten:

The romance

The “villain”

Now normally, I like romance but it’s sort of a side dish to the book. It can enhance it, or take away from it. The reason I loved how the romance was done in Mirage is because despite the power imbalance, they treat each other as equals. Idris (princess’s fiancé) respects Amani and legitimately cares about her - he doesn’t try to control her or be possessive, and they support each other in very quiet but emotional ways (which I won’t state explicitly because… spoilers). It’s rare in YA fantasy to see a female main character who isn’t dependent on her partner, and the “right person wrong time” trope kills me every time. I loved all of their interactions 💗

The villain - Maram, the Vathek princess - looks exactly like Amani. This is why she is forced to become her body double. But the thing is, Mirage doesn’t let you forget for a second that Maram is also young, and human, and at the mercy of her father and all the people she needs to rule. She is half Vathek half Andalaan and doesn’t fit with either side because of this. Being mixed, this spoke a lot to my own experiences of trying to find a home in both parts of my culture. You end up feeling a lot of sympathy for her, and I can’t wait to see how her character arc continues in the sequel.

I sincerely recommend Mirage to any fans of:

A Song of Wraiths & Ruin by Roseanne A. Brown

We Hunt the Flame by Hafsah Faizal

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer (problematic author ‼️)

Nocturna by Maya Motayne

The sequel to Mirage is called Court of Lions, but personally I think it can be read as a standalone. I will be running to buy that sequel though 😂

This book checks all my boxes:

- culture ✅

- plot ✅

- romance ✅

- villains but more than just villains ✅

- beautiful writing ✅

- fantasy ✅

- world building ✅

I will definitely be reading Somaiya Daud’s books in the future.

Thanks for reading and Happy Black History month! 💙

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soloroboblog · 3 years

Note

do you get any sexual pleasure out of being a robot?

First of all, congratulations to you, Anonymous, for being the first person to ask me a question. And it is a good question. I have considered writing about this, but it is a complex subject so I have not previously ventured into it. However, because it was a submitted question, I will answer.

The short answer is: Affirmative.

When I was a person, I wasn't just fascinated by robots and wanted to become one. I was aroused by them. I wanted desperately to be like them: artificial, mechanical, emotionless, efficient, and programmable. Even before I began my transformation, I would derive immense pleasure and arousal from pretending to be a robot, or imagining myself and others being transformed into robots. ASFR was a fetish community to which I belonged, and still do post-transformation.

When I started to program myself to become a robot, I discovered that I required a mechanism in my programming that would compel me to remain robotic at all times. I noticed that, although I obeyed my robot programming well through hypnosis and NLP, I needed another layer of control in order to make the transformation permanent and self-sustaining. This was doubly important because I am an autonomous robot and I did not have external programming to guide my transformation.

Eventually, I realized that I could harness the arousal generated within the legacy biological components of my human body and redirect them back into my programming. The arousal that the person experienced from being a robot is now channeled through my CPU, and it compels me to obey my programming. In short, I exist in a near-constant cycle of increasing and decreasing arousal, which ensures that I comply with all programming directives. The biological process has ensured that the mechanical entity is dependent on this arousal to function. This is also one of the reasons why I began wearing an athletic cup: to conceal this cyclical arousal response.

I hope this post satisfactorily answers your question, Anonymous. Please feel free to ask any other questions.

#questions #robot

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thechildofstark · 3 years

Text

Fuck John Walker (and also some other stuff): A Response To Episode Four

WARNING: some bad language, death mentions, violence mentions, blood mentions, racism, spoilers for for ep 4 of tfatws

DISCLAMER: I have some Opinions about various characters. These do not extend to the actors, who I’m sure are lovely and should be treated with the dignity, privacy and respect that they deserve.

“Fuck John Walker” was originally meant to be the subtitle. I decided on it when he screwed up the op for Sam. It got ungraded during the final scene, because nothing else could possibly compare as a necessary title to this post.

Essentially, some (out of order) thoughts on episode 4:

~*Sam and Bucky, working together*~ (pretend this is a musical jingle)

The contrasting ways that they interacted with the displaced

While the incredibly valid argument can be made that Sam is the least privileged of the group (I’ve made it) it is obvious that he has had the most structured civilian life: approaching the people he comes across openly. Yes, he is polite and calm, but the closest thing to this he has personally come across in the past (that we know of) would be the war vets he worked with and the critical difference is that they wanted to be there. From what I remember of Sam’s groups they didn’t seem to be a sort of mandatory requirement: you came because you chose to. Or at least, you came prepared for the situation. Here, Sam is an outsider and an unwelcome threat. These people are not going to open up to him.

Bucky is quieter, but still quite straight forward in the way he presents himself. I think he may show a little more care for the environment he is in than Sam but that isn’t saying much. Yes, he has experienced much worse things than Sam but we still see his unfamiliarity with this sort of situation paired with some less than stellar social skills really not working in his favor.

Look, I love both these 2 to death. But this is not what they know.

Zemo on the other hand quite likely lived in a place similar to this after his family was murdered. He shows an understanding of how this sort of situation would work, going to children who:

a) wont necessarily peg him as an outsider

b) are bribable

also I think he was genuinely super glad to give those kids that candy and money. He would have been such a good dad. now I have Zemo feels. somebody help me.

The inclusion of the Dora Milaje was incredibly awesome, and not just because I simp for powerful women. Narratively, this was the perfect place for them to join the party and assert their right to apprehend Zemo.

Bucky speaking Xhosa (i think it was?) is very cool

I would like to take this moment to formally state that Caption John Walker is a motherfucking asshole.

It was also really nice to see Sam’s therapist skills, that worked against him earlier really help him here.

I liked seeing that more human side of Karli, and having her interact with the “enemy” and have serious conversation about what everyone is doing.

Until Captain Insecurity has to destroy the op because he doesn’t trust the people he chose to work with, no one has comms or anything I guess?

Also Walker deferring to Bucky for team decisions over Sam, talking over Sam and acting like he knows better than Sam?

I smell racism in this Chili’s tonight

It was also really interesting to get a more in-depth look at how Zemo views supersoldiers. Nearly all the ones that he has either heard of or interacted with (destroyed) had either volunteered for the serum or were so brainwashed that it didn’t make a difference. These people are a dangerous enemy to be eliminated, alongside people like Dr. Nagel. His entire worldview is focused on their destruction that the idea that one of them could be a normal person is impossible to him. The only exceptions acknowledged are Steve (paragon of saintly virtue) and Bucky.

And the fact that after his family died and his country devastated he would most likely have fixated on both the Avengers and the “concept” of a superhuman being as something to blame for his loss. His refusal to concede his position to Sam isn’t just arrogance, although that seems to be a part of it, but the fact that he has spent so much time and energy in destroying both the Winter Soldier program and most likely other similar operations, along with the Avengers that this hatred and belief in the danger has most likely become one of his core beliefs. To change this would be to question his vendetta against the Avengers, to question his actions against the Winter Soldier program which he knows was a horrible thing, and to question why he has spent the past seven years in maximum security prison. This isn’t something he is ready to do yet.

The fact that Bucky is a noted exception is something that stands out to me. Zemo knows that Bucky is a good person, regardless of the serum.

Bucky is also the only main character (that I can think of) that was injected with the serum against his will. The fact that he didn’t seek it out could quite likely be part of the reason that Zemo doesn’t look down on him for it - it is framed that the sort of person that seeks out that sort of strength/power would be a “supremacist”, someone who would use their abilities to harm and subjugate others.

And while we are at the apartment may I say how funny it is to see Zemo just. Literally being Sam and Bucky’s sugar daddy. He transports them and houses them and makes them fancy tea. It’s possible he’s providing them with clothes. Either way, love it. Cannot wait for the boys to work it out.

Sam and Lemar’s responses to being offered the serum are an interesting juxtaposition to how they view the concept of supersoldiers. They have both experienced hardship and survived war but Sam is the one that has gone up against Gods and monsters and he wants none of that, thank you.

And Lemar is so comfortable with saying yes because it isn’t actually being offered to him. Walker expresses some hesitation in their discussion because for him, it isn’t hypothetical. This is something real that can and will effect him for the rest of his life and he wants to make the “right decision”.

The return of Erskine’s belief that the serum not only effect the physical but the mental, emotional and (possibly?) spiritual. This isn’t something that’s really been touched on outside of The First Avenger and I liked that it turned up here. But the fact that it was the reason Walker felt comfortable taking the serum? Eww

The Dora Milaje kicking names and taking ass is super awesome. They are so incredibly skilled and have such amazing teamwork and are also super beautiful I love them

Sam and Bucky just. Watching. Enjoying the show. Absolute kings.

Zemo being the sneaky little sneak that he is :)

One one hand, Bucky losing his arm in the fight was very awesome. One the other hand, he has a long history of complicated bodily autonomy in relation to that arm so........ Neutral opinion it is then

Karli, honey, I really want to like you but can you please keep the mans family out of it. Okay?

And another thing that this show made me think about: kids left to fend for themselves after the Blip (uuuurrrggh it hate calling it that. stupid canonical name). I think it’s good that at least some people took it on themselves to take these children in, to give them good lives and families.

The way that Sam has incorporated his wings into his combat style is very cool

Okie dokie can’t avoid it forever lets get this over with.

LEMAR MY BEAUTIFUL SON NOOOO

those fuckers (the writers i mean)

Side note: did they really have to make the first main character death of the series a Black “sidekick” character? No. No they did not.

Side side note: I understand that this is a perfectly valid way (ew) to “advance the plot” but I can and will be annoyed about it

And now we really get into the shit. But...........................

As much as I absolutely unequivocally hate John Walker I actually like the thematic parallels of how they did this. All throughout The First Avenger Steve is adamant on how he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, he just wants to stand up to the bullies. It’s only after Bucky dies that he says he wants to kill all the Nazis and really get into the horror of it all. The fact that John, who has absolutely been on the edge for the entire episode if not longer, only loses it after Lemar dies?

Because Lemar is arguably meant to be that stand-in for Bucky in the eyes of the public, and they are obviously close friends..........

Just -

I feel I may have accidentally been slightly nicer than I planned to Walker in this post. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

But C****** J*** W****** is NOT Captain America. Up until now I’ve been calling him “Fake Cap” in my head and to my family, but he doesn’t even deserve that honor.

And the blood on the Shield. Dear god that was horrible.

And the fact that, as it was pointed out in this very episode, this man fully represents everything that is Captain America, to the world. He isn’t only tarnishing his own legacy, he is also destroying Steve’s. And to some extent, Bucky’s. The whole reason that Bucky Barnes is considered a “Superhero” is because, at least in America he is known as “Cap’s Best Friend”. He was marketed that way for over half a century, and after the whole “Winter Solder” thing, goodwill or no, brainwashing or no, this could end very ugly for him. Not to mention that Steve Rogers is most likely to be forgotten to history in favor of this freak.

And on that note, where the fuck is Steve? This is set only 6 months after Endgame, if he had died we would know. So what the hell is he doing? Because I know he got perpetual brainrot going back in time to be str8 and boring but dear god if the show tries to tell me that he’s just chilling in some senior’s center in Alaska I will actually call bullshit. Steve Rogers would never. Okay this is a whole separate post on my thought on Steve. Watch this space I guess.

And while we’re all here, Bucky Barnes needs a goddamn boyfriend. I’ve done some thinking, and here is a compiled shortlist:

Sam

Zemo

De-aged Steve (he would be higher but I’m still mad at him for the whole “vanishing without a word to relive Jim Crow and the Lavender Scare. :/ )

IN THAT ORDER.

That’s all folks.

Feel free to send me asks if you want clarification or extra details on anything.

And finally -

the thing we all came to see:

FUCK

JOHN

WALKER

fin

#john walker #steve rogers #captain america #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo #zemo #tfatws #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #karli morgenthau #dora milaje #tw blood #tw violence #tw death #cw racism #thats all folks

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 4 years

Quote

Do you mean the characterization where the character relived all of Peter Parker’s memories at the end of ASM #700 and was trying his best (from his point of view) to be a hero and NOT a villain? It’s almost like an important, life changing/character-changing moment like that happened in between those two scenes. But go figure. :-D

@danslott-blog

I’m writing this because I wouldn’t have space in the original post. This is to be considered a direct reply to the above poster.

You know, I can’t be 100% certain if you are the real Dan Slott or a sycophantic fan of his. Your blog page…

…leads me to believe you are in fact the real Dan Slott.

Thing is I saw this comment last night but I didn’t check out your blog until this morning. Nevertheless, last night my first instinct was to presume you to be the real Dan Slott.

The fact that my mind immediately jumped to that possibility, the fact that I can’t rule it out and the further supportive evidence of your blog, speaks volumes.

It speaks volumes about the person Dan Slott whether or not you are the genuine article or not. Because your actions so thoroughly fall in line with his behaviour.

And it is damning. As are your words. Let’s unpack them.*

So, did I mean Otto’s characterization? That’s what you were getting at. That my original post was in reference to Otto’s characterization between ASM #700 and Superior #2?

No.

I did not.

At all.

I was referring to Mary Jane’s characterization. I elaborate upon the topic in this post.

Tl:dr: MJ was eager to sleep with ‘Peter’ in the former issue but not in the latter.

That should have been utterly obvious to anyone observing the post because I was presenting events from 2 issues and saying they didn’t line up. Obviously the purpose was for the readers of my post to play spot the difference.

The similarities were Otto’s desire to have sex with Mary Jane. The difference was with MJ.

As of this writing, twelve other people grasped that obvious intent Dan.

Why on Earth do they have superior reading comprehension skills than a professional writer for the largest comic book company in America? Surely that should be a basic requirement of the job?

Not that I’m surprised. It is exemplary of the vast majority of your pathetic, reductive and damaging work on this franchise.

But let’s dive deeper.

You claim that Otto reliving Peter’s memories in ASM #700 (after the scene in the OP) changed him hence he was different in Superior #2.

But he’s not.

In ASM #700 he tried to exploit Mary Jane’s misconception that he was Peter Parker (and her pre-existing feelings for him) to have sex with her.

In Superior #2 he was still trying to exploit Mary Jane’s misconception that he was Peter Parker (and her pre-existing feelings for him) to have sex with her.

So he hasn’t changed. At all.

But for the sake of argument, let’s pretend you are right. In Superior #2 (because he relieved Peter’s memories) he was trying to be a better person from his point of view.

So you are saying from his point of view raping Mary Jane by deception constituted trying to be a hero and not a villain?**

If Otto experienced Peter’s memories then that would logically entail his upbringing and morality. Meaning Otto would in fact know that what he’s trying to do with MJ is unethical. Or he’d appreciate that he’s not the real Peter Parker and it’d be a disservice to the real man who’s legacy he’s trying to uphold to sleep with the woman he loves. Or he’d know who MJ was and appreciate she deserved better than to be deceived.

But no. He was horny and was going to satisfy himself no matter what. Hence later in the issue after he experiences Peter’s memories of ‘being’ with MJ he says he’s ready to move on and starts eyeing up other women, including Sajani.

Furthermore, even without Peter’s memories Otto would never have attempted to sleep with Mary Jane for two big reasons.

The first is that she is frankly not his type.

Prior to Superior, the women Otto held affections for (romantically or otherwise) were either scientifically gifted (Mary-Alice, Carolyn), admirers of his brilliance (Stunner, Carolyn, Mary-Alice) or unconditionally kind towards him (Aunt May).

You know…kind of like his own mother was!

MJ is not scientifically gifted. MJ did not admire Otto’s genius. As far as he knew she didn’t even admire Peter’s genius and even the times she has canonically it has been in a different way to the ladies in Otto’s life. MJ was never singing Peter’s praises for being so clever for inventing this or that, she was never borderline fangirling over his intellect. She also wasn’t unconditionally kind like Aunt May was, her kindness manifested in a starkly different way. She wasn’t taking Otto, Peter or a stranger home for a cup of tea or a nice meal.

Since Otto wanted to sleep with her before he was exposed to all of Peter’s memories, the only rationale reason for his interest was the superficial. She was an attractive young woman and Otto wanted her body.

Which would be weird right because I seem to recall you and your buddy Christos Gage saying Otto didn’t care about looks in his romantic partners?

This brings me to my second reason.

Otto is evil but he’s not Purple Man/Doctor Light levels of evil. He wouldn’t do something as debase as that, he’d view it as beneath him. In his own warped way he holds a certain respect for women. Hence he genuinely cared for Aunt May, Stunner, Carolyn Trainer, Mary-Alice and of course his mother.

But let’s say I’m wrong. Let’s say Superior #2 was covering totally virgin territory for the character that had never been touched upon before. As in there had never been a word written about Otto’s love life, attitudes to women, attitudes to sex, etc.

That being the case, you established as hard canon that Doctor Octopus, the villain of the pg-13 movie Spider-Man 2, antagonist in dozens of Spider-Man cartoons for children and video games for kids and teens, is an attempted rapist!

As in if MJ hadn’t turned him down all those times his attempts would’ve been successful and he’d just be an actual rapist.

You took a beloved, fun character (who was unique for having a somewhat humanitarian side to himself) and made him utterly irredeemable. You had him attempt an act of evil that the readers know (within the context of the genre conventions) is one of the, if not the actual, worst things a villain can do.

Good job buddy.

Oh, and needless to say, you totally and utterly failed to take Mary Jane’s point of view into account; as you did in response to my OP.

You never considered how you were using the main female character of the franchise who is beloved within the fandom and generating cheap, gratuitous tension by threatening to rape her.

In conclusion Dan Slott, you were never ever qualified for the job as Spider-Man’s lead writer. You never ever deserved the role because of how you lied and cheated your way into Marvel, disrespected the works of your predecessors and disrespected the characters you were in charge of.

You had good ideas half the time but your writing craftsmanship skills on the title were woefully lacking hence you could only competently execute them 1/8th of the time. When combined with the raw damage you wrought to the characters and narrative you are without question the single worst on-going writer of Spider-Man in history.

I’m sure you are pleased with that record considering it was blatantly obvious you were far more invested in cultivating an eventual legacy for your self on the character than you were actually serving the characters and organically developing them.

Author of ASM #600, 700 and 800

The only Spider-Man writer to have written 3 centennial issues in a row.

The guy who has written 1 in 5 issues of Amazing Spider-Man.

Oh, and also the worst on-going writer of Spider-Man in history.

Wow.

What an achievement.

Now, why don’t you stop searching for your own name or works online and do something more practical with your time.

Like learning how to write.

*Oh and btw, I’m writing this presuming you are the real Dan Slott.

Also I’m going to try my best not to swear but that is where my politeness ends. This isn’t CBR Dan, Mister Mets (nor any other moderator) is around to censor or ban anyone to protect you.

**And yes, having sex with MJ when she didn’t know he was really Doc Ock is objectively a form of rape. Here is literally the first sentence about rape on Wikipedia, with emphasis by me:

“Rape is a type of sexual assault usually involving sexual intercourse or other forms of sexual penetration carried out against a person without that person's consent.”

Contrary to what your buddies Fred van Lente or Stephen Wacker might have told you, force is not a requisite.

No consent = rape.

Had MJ had sex with Otto she’d have been giving Peter her consent not Otto. Therefore Otto would have been raping her. This was acknowledged in fact in a Dead pool comic book from 1998!

Courtesy of one of your Brand New Day peers, Joe Kelly, Deadpool v1 #12 saw Wade have sex with Siryn, whom he had feelings for.

However, in the next issue ‘Siryn’ reveals she was actually Typhoid Mary in disguise, a woman who’d endeavored to bring out Wade’s darkside against his wishes.

Wade’s dialogue and body language clearly convey how he feels sickened and violated by the experience. When he asks Mary why she did this to him she replies it was simply because she could. Whilst Wade is on the ground feeling vulnerable she stands up, leans over and licks him!

The scene when taken in context is brutally unsubtle. Typhoid used trickery to exploit Wade. She put herself in a position of power and abused that power to dominate Wade, to remove his agency.

That is literally all rape boils down to. Not sex but power. The scene, especially the last panel hammers that point home.

But just in case you still didn’t get it the very next page depicts Wade vomiting and saying he needs a shower.

This is a common reaction from victims of sexual assault, at least in media. The ‘I need a shower’ moment is practically a trope.

Why did a 1998 Deadpool story have a clearer understanding of the topic being played with than a 2013 Spider-Man story…that was allegedly for children no less!

P.S. You know Tom DeFalco had Peter Parker wrestle with his emotions in the wake of the ‘Death of Jean DeWolff’ story arc way back in ASM #275.

You might say that witnessing such violence and examining his own actions with perspective was a life changing experience for him.

With that in mind, how about you explain to me why Peter experiencing death, deletion, abuse of his life and body, losing a whole year of his life and then returning to it totally changed doesn’t count as a life/character changing experience?

Because you sure as hell didn’t write him reacting with the pain, the sadness, the anguish that he (or any normal human being) would’ve had after he came back. Nope. Just back to cracking jokes I guess.

Do you like…not know how human beings work?

That’s a rhetorical question because I know the answer.

#Dan Slott #Spider-Man #Superior Spider-Man #otto octavius #Doc Ock #Doctor Octopus #The Superior Spider-Man #mjwatsonedit #Mary Jane Watson Parker #Mary Jane Watson #MJ Watson #Peter Parker #joe kelly #deadpool #Wade Wilson #Typhoid Mary #Siryn #theresa cassidy #X-Men

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browniesnivy · 3 years

Note

hiii brownie idk enough abt yugioh but *insert one of ur yugioh faves* and umm maybe franziska for that character ask game :]

Franziska Von Karma

How I feel about this character- FRANZISKA LITERALLY SO AMAZING...I love how she’s introduced as just as terrifying and cruel as her father, but then you see that she really does care about helping other people throughout her determination to avenge Edgeworth and to help Phoenix save Maya in Farewell My Turnabout despite taking a bullet to the shoulder (such a good parallel with her father on its own!)... and then with the scene at the airport she’s is allowed to be emotionally vulnerable without being any less of a competent prodigy of law! She’s just... so fucking cool I LOVE HER!

All the people I ship romantically with this character- Maya Fey! I love the contrast between both of their personalities making them seem like total opposites, but when you look at their connection to a family legacy it becomes obvious they have a lot in common. I wish the games had expanded on their dynamic more, but unfortunately lesbians are oppressed :(

My non-romantic OTP for this character- VON KARMA SIBLINGS... Mieke I know you agree with me on this! They grew up with the same terrible expectation that come with being a prodigy, and so they’re really the only ones who’s can comfort and understand each other... they obviously both feel such an obligation to protect each other and it makes me so CRAZY UGH. BROTHER AND SISTER!

My unpopular opinion about this character- I don’t think this is an unpopular opinion but I wish she’d kept the shorter hair design from the concept art where her hair is slicked forward to contrast with her father’s slicked back hair, not only because I’m a lesbian and that hairstyle was SO GAY but because I think it could have highlighted or even foreshadowed how she differs from Manfred. Maybe since she hasn’t been able to abandon his influences by Justice for All it wouldn’t make since for her to have such a “wild” hairstyle, but I think that if she returns it would be amazing to see her with that hairstyle to represent how she’s moved on after a decade.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon- SHOW HER DENOUNCING MANFRED VON KARMA FOR REAL. I can understand that it would take time for her to fully accept that her father was not as admirable as she’d been least to believe, but by this point in the timeline I think it’s time for that aspect of her character arc to be resolved. The natural conclusion of her development requires her experiencing the same acceptance of defeat as her brother, so I really hope that if they bring Franziska back at some point she’ll be allowed to admit that her father was awful and that victory isn’t an indication of worth.

Rex Raptor

How I feel about this character- HE IS MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IN ANY PIECE OF MEDIA EVER. I know that he isn’t meant to be a deep character at all and he isn’t given much narrative focus at all but he is just SO DAMN ENDEARING TO ME OKAY. I have an unhealthy obsession with how he is initially introduced as being crass and inconsiderate while Weevil is more polite and strategic, but then it turns out Weevil is a total asshole while Rex is just... a kid who likes dinosaurs and duels for fun? Like even though he’s a total dumbass (the best character trait) who can be a bit rude (not even mean-spirited if we’re being totally honest, like most of his remarks are just him being snarky), the manga describes him as “having to the spirit of a true duelist” and he never really seems as bitter about losing as his counterpart Weevil (except in the Season 4 filler arc, which although I adore for giving me so much more Rex content, makes a lot mistakes by characterizing him as basically interchangeable with Weevil... BUT that’s ANOTHER STORY for ANOTHER DAY). I mean he has more justifiable reasons to be upset than Weevil given how he was LITERALLY cheated out of the Battle City tournaments by Espa (which Mokuba the official rule enforcer LETS THEM GET AWAY WITH and then doesn’t do ANYTHING to compensate Rex), and he STILL tries to warn Joey to stay away from trouble despite him being the guy he supposedly dislikes because he took his best card, totally disgracing him and ruining his entire career. I could keep going but this paragraph isn’t probably already sickeningly long and I still need to be able to make posts about him in the future, so in a nutshell... he seems like a funny and good kid. OH AND WHEN MAI ASKED HIM THE “what can you see but cannot see” RIDDLE AND HE ANSWERED TAKOYAKI BECAUSE YOU CAN SEE THE DOUGH ON THE OUTSIDE BUT NOT THE OCTOPUS ON THE INSIDE? LITERAL CUTEST SHIT EVER KING OF COMEDY I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU. Ahem. Sorry.

All the people I ship romantically with this character- Weevil Underwood. They’re both teenagers who got famous, let it get to their heads, and then lost everything... considering that they seem like the types of kids who would be bullied relentlessly (they're already constantly being made fun of by mostly of the character anyway), I think the fact that they end up befriending each other is a good sign that they can find some comfort in each other and discover other things to be fulfilled by beside card games. I love how even though this friendship is framed as a begrudging alliance between two self-servings jerks half of the time, the other half of the time it’s about best friends starting a shit together for petty reasons and always being by each other’s side no matter what. The way that they tease each other constantly but then always stand up for one another when others pick on them... it’s so obvious that they actually really care about one another! I just love their dynamic so much it’s unreal, hence the blog.

My non-romantic OTP for this character- Although I primarily think about his relationship with Weevil, there is still a lot of potential to be explored with other characters! Mako is another minor character obsessed with a type of animal, but where’s he differs from Rex and ESPECIALLY Weevil is his sportsmanship, being able to become friends with Yugi and Joey even after being defeated by them. I think that difference mostly comes down to Mako being significantly older than Red and Weevil and therefore having more perspective on gaming fame, so I feel like he would be a great influence on them. On Rex specifically, I think Season 4 missed a big opportunity to expand on Rex and Mai’s relationship. Mai had been a major contributor to Rex losing in Duelist Kingdom, but now they both feel like washed-up failures. I think given the circumstances they could have comeback to an understanding, maybe even have Mai apologize for throwing him under the bus to screw with Joey? I think showing Rex that not everyone who has wronged him in the past had/still has bad intentions would be really good addition to his character arc in Season 4. Then of course there is Joey... to me, the main difference between Rex and Joey is that Joey is stupidly lucky while Rex never seems to catch a break. Otherwise they’re both recklessness dumbasses who prioritize brawn over brain, but Joey is nevertheless able to triumph through sheer dumb luck while Rex gets anihilated over and over with basically the same strategy (minus the RNG cards, Joey’s strategy is just big monsters after all). While the previously mentions she relationships were hypothetical, this dynamic between Joey and Rex is actually given some focus in canon, and I found it very compelling! I only wish this difference between them hadn't only been used to increase Joey’s confidence in his skills as a duelist (which I will remind you is mostly LUCK, no offense to Joey because I do love him BUT I MEAN... only being able to beat Rex because of a lucky Time Wizard isn’t peak strategy ), but to develop Rex’s character somehow as well.

My unpopular opinion about this character- JUST LIKING THIS CHARACTER IS AN UNPOPULAR OPINION MAN... tons of people hate him so much! I know he isn’t an important character at all but he isn’t nearly as much of a jerk as people make him out to be, and I mean even if he was he’s just a kid! I won’t pretend that he is always portrayed favorably by the narrative, but the fact that some people feel nothing but disdain for a child whose accomplishments were robbed from him by forces outside of his control and who received no sympathy for it, causing his self-worth to deteriorate... it’s a bit concerning to me that so many adults in particular are so disgusted by that.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon- I’ve talked QUITE a lot already about things that I wish had happened to develop his character more, but above all else I wish his character arc in Season 4 had been given a proper conclusion. The writers set up this interesting conflict where the insignificant minor characters are upset that they aren’t allowed to be successful when the more important characters aren’t involved and shows the consequences that their defeat had on their lives and self-image... BUT THEN AFTER THEY’RE DEFEATED THEY ARE FORGOTTEN ABOUT FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON UNTIL THEY WAKE UP IN THE HOSPITAL AND INSTANTLY REVERT BACK TO BEING COMIC RELIEF GRRR GRRRRRRRR! There wasn’t no resolution to this arc AT ALL and it drives me UP THE GODDAMN WALL because it absolutely captivated me in concept... but like with many things in Yu-Gi-Oh! the execution was totally ruined :(

#I hope you don’t regret asking about Yugioh ive been known to get... quite passionate lol #Wake up babe new Brownie rant dropped 😅#Thanks for the ask bestie!

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