what if the x men were black

WASTED POTENTIAL: X-Men: First Class and the Death of Armando Muñoz

Or, How Racism F%#@ed the X-Men Movies

It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I am absolutely, ridiculously invested in the X-Men Cinematic Universe.  Or, more specifically, I’m invested in what the XMCU could have been, if it had been approached as a cohesive whole rather than a series of vaguely confused attempts at continuity and Wolverine cameos.

For me, the biggest moment of missed potential comes with the death of Armando “Darwin” Muñoz at the midpoint of X-Men: First Class.  People have talked, of course, about how his death was racist and doesn’t make sense – because it was racist, and fundamentally, it doesn’t make sense.

To be fair, I don’t think the writers were being intentionally racist when they killed Armando off in the same scene where the movie’s only other black character defects to the side of the bad guys.  I don’t think they were being intentionally racist when they had a Nazi kill a black man, who, in the comics, is literally and demonstrably unkillable.

But they did these things, and these things were racist.

And to be honest, that racism kinda f%#@ed the franchise.  It’s not the only thing that did – the decision to put ten year timeskips in between each movie of the second trilogy certainly didn’t help matters – but I think that it’s the single bad decision that, if averted, would have changed everything.

Under the cut, I’ll discuss why Armando was such a significant character, and why his death shaped the direction of the franchise by destroying some pretty epic narrative possibilities.

(Trigger Warnings for: mentions of suicide, depression, trauma, real life racism, human experimentation.  Nothing more explicit than XMCU canon, however.)


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Mutants Stick Together

Originally posted by lokiyoulittle

Part 2 Part 3

3rd grade. First day. New school. That’s where you met him. Peter Maximoff.

You walked into the classroom and took the seat right across from him, immediately noticing his leg bouncing at what looked to be light speed. You stared at his leg and he caught you.

“My mom says I have superpowers.” he told you. You looked up and stared at him for a moment. “I’m not like the rest of the kids here.” You smiled.

“I have a superpower, too.” you said to him. You had never met another mutant before. And you figured he hadn’t either. “I can teleport.” His eyes widened and a grin grew on his face.

“No way.” he whispered in amazement. You teleported to the empty seat next to you.

After that, the two of you just…clicked. You two grew up together. You would usually spend all day at his place, considering your parents weren’t too fond of mutants. But Ms. Maximoff didn’t seem to mind.

“Peter!” you yelled into the classroom. Sixth period just ended and you were ready to go home–or to his house, for that matter.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” he spoke as he jogged out the door. “So, pizza place, video store, home?” he asked.

“Uh huh.” you mumbled. You started sprinting. “Race you to the pizza place! No powers!” you shouted back at him. He shook his head.

“We’ll see about that, (L/N).” he said to himself. Of course he broke the rules and used his super speed, not only to run to the pizza place, but to pick you up and run you there, too. You’re used to the speed by now. You’ve only had 87,934 trips.

“You’re disqualified. I win by default.” You told him as he set you down.

“Of course you did. (favorite pizza)?” he asked. You automatically turned your head at the name of your favorite pizza.

“Hell yeah.” you said a little too loud. Peter laughed and bought the pizza with the money he just took out of your pocket. You noticed, but you didn’t get mad. You just stole more money out of his pocket. He probably noticed, too.

“Movie?” he asked. You looked at the massive collection of movies the video store had.

“I can’t decide. You pick.” He picked out Star Trek and you two were on your way home.

You were one block away from the house when you grabbed the pizza and poofed away.

“Oh no they didn’t.” He sped to the basement to see you laying on his bed eating a slice of pizza. He grabbed it out of your hand and started eating it.

“Hey!” you reacted. He laughed and ran to one corner of the room. You teleported there. He ran. You teleported. You knew him long enough to predict what he was going to do. You caught him and stole you pizza back.

“Put the movie in. There’s enough pizza to go around.” You told him. He plopped down next to you on the couch and you watched the movie. Lorna ran down for a brief few moments.

The movie was finally over and you both went to bed.

The very next day, three men came into the house. Like you guys. Mutants. You watched them as they spoke to both of you. You teleported behind the shorter one and tapped his shoulder while the black-haired one spoke. The shorter guy turned around and you teleported in front of him. He flinched when he saw you. You giggled and teleported next to Peter. Then they told you what they wanted you to do. “The Pentagon” is what convinced you. And you were in.

-Lizzie (Part 2?? tell me if you want one)

Black Out

Word Count: 1049

Fandom: X-Men

Pairing: Hank McCoy x Reader

Request(s): None

Warning(s): None

A/N: Hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by cute-guysxx


“Hey, Hank?”

“Yes?”

“I need your help,” you said, blushing with embarrassment.

“With what?” He asked.

“Well, you’re really smart and all, and I want to pass my biology final, so I figured I should ask you to be my study buddy,” you smiled, shyly. Hank had been your friend since the day you stepped foot in the mansion, but that didn’t make asking for help any less nerve wracking.

“Oh, yeah! Sure. I’ll meet you in your room later, okay?” Hank grinned, pushing up his glasses. You let out a breath of relief, finally feeling at ease.

“Thanks, Hank. You’re the best,” she said, “but I have to warn you, my room is haunted.”

“Wait, what?” Hank asked, but you were already far gone.


A few hours later, Hank and you were sat on your dormitory floor, surrounded by papers and notebooks and study guides.

“Okay, so you have to write an essay about Darwin’s theory, right?” Hank asked, thumbing through the pages of a textbook in front of him.

“That is correct, Professor Brainiac,” you laughed at his annoyed face. Hank had graduated college at 17 and was working at the Academy as the scientist and engineer of the X-Men.  He was a true genius in your eyes. A cute, sweet, dorky, lovable one who stole your heart from ‘hello’.

“(Y/N)?” He asked, waving his hand in your face.

“W-what?” You asked, snapping out of your trance.

“You zoned,” he chuckled. “What were you thinking about?”

“Oh, nothing,” you blushed, gazing down at all the scattered notes.

“Okay, well, we should start by seeing if you know the content. I’ll quiz you,” he said. Right as the words left his mouth, the room was blanketed in pitch black canvas.

“Hank?” You called out, body tense.

“I’m right here,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You jumped. “It’s just a power outage. Are you alright?”

“Uh … yeah,” you mumbled, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. You jumped again when you heard a loud noise down the hall.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He asked, incredulously.

“W-what? No! No, of course not! That’s ch-childish!” You exclaimed.

“Oh my god! You are!” Hank Laughed in disbelief.

“S-so what? Do you have any idea what lurks in the dark? Demons, ghosts! Murderers and thieves!” You countered.

“Ghosts?” Hank asked.

“Yes, ghosts! My room is haunted, remember?” You said, looking over at him, finally able to see his figure in the blackness. He was smiling. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m not! It’s just cute!” Hank defended himself. You faltered for a second. Had he just called her cute?

A loud crash rang through the room, causing you to scream. Hank wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to calm you down.

“What was that?” You asked, panicking. He shrugged, looking around the dark room.

“I think your lamp fell over,” Hank said. He stood up, letting you go to investigate. He picked up the lamp and set it back on the bedside table. “Oh, look. Your torch is here. How convenient?”

“I told you my room was haunted,” you cried out.

“What are you talking about? The lamp was probably just unbalanced and it tipped over. Nothing to worry about,” Hank said, turning on the torchlight and pulling open the curtains on the window.

“How coincidental that it had to fall right when the power went out, right?” You asked, sarcastically.

“Exactly,” Hank said, not joking. You sighed and watched as he looked out the window. “It looks like this whole part of town is at a loss of electricity. Must be the storm that’s coming.”

You groaned, walking up to him. He smiled down at you and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“So, what do we do until the power comes back on?” You asked.

“We could start studying?” He offered. You groaned again and he laughed. “I’m kidding. We could just hang out for awhile.”

“Okay.” You said, heading over to sit on your bed. Hank sat down across from you.

“What do you wanna do?” Hank asked.

“Truth or dare,” you challenged.

“Alright. You start,” he grinned nervously. You rubbed your hands together, thinking of evil dares and cringeworthy truths.

“Truth or dare?” you asked.

“Truth,” Hank said.

“What is your most embarrassing moment?” You smirked.

“When I was seen, I was in a higher level class and I was asked to come up and solve a question on the board. It was my first day there, and I got so nervous that I threw up in the bin in the middle of my explanation,” he blushed. You giggled.

“Oh god, that’s terrible,” you laughed.

“Yeah, I know. Okay, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you smiled.

“I dare you to tell me the cheesiest joke you know,” he challenged.

“Alright. What do you call cheese that isn’t yours?” You asked, taking the ‘cheesiest’ part literally.

“What?” He sighed.

“Nacho cheese!” you exclaimed. He laughed, shaking his head.

“That’s horrible,” he chuckled. You nodded, beginning to laugh yourself.

“Exactly,” you giggled, only to jump and hold in a scream as a pounding was heard on a door down the hall. Hank pulled you into a hug again, calming you down.

“It’s just some students coming back to their rooms,” he explained.

“O-okay,” you stuttered out. You shook, trying to rid yourself of the fear. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said, feeling brave. You smiled.

“I dare you to go out there and kiss your crush,” you smiled. He laughed a little, blushing. He leant forward a bit and placed a kiss on your cheek. You froze.

“W-wait. You like me?” You asked, confused. He nodded, face as red as a cherry.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled brightly, turning around in his embrace and kissing him full on the lips.

“Huh?” Hank asked after you pulled away.

“I like you too, nerd,” you said, grinning like an idiot.

anonymous asked:

Logan doesn't have a history of racism.

there is a reason many fans call him weaboo-verine, wolverine and his placement within Japanese culture, east asian cultures, isn’t above critique. white guy being a ~samurai~, and better at their culture than them, killing Japanese ninjas, etc. the shit lingers with orientalism (folks have called out these tropes with daredevil and iron fist netflix series). and its not always subtle. Marvel fans that are of color, esp those that are Asian have clocked it. analyzed, examined, critiqued the normalized things. 

esp when he’s a white male character, a character that relies on hyper masculinity, then “saving” japanese women. Clock that the wolverine film, the 2nd in the solo wolverine trilogy. fighting off Japanese men to save a Japanese women damsel and the only Japanese male protagonist (the archer) dies (who was also a former love interests of Mariko the damsel and was secretly working for the villain viper).

Also:

writers, using wolverine to perpetuate incredibly inappropriate racist and anti semitic metaphors, this some whack ass uncreative writing and whack ass metaphor. 

Also The X-Men Are A Little Racist; “For my part, I was less surprised by it happening if just because the X-Men were a little bit of a politically incorrect bunch long before this, and there had been some slurs flung around having nothing to do with lettering errors and crossed wires. Basically, what I’m saying is “Warpath? Really, Warpath?” and also “Wolverine hates black people.”

Going back to the early days of the All-New, All-Different X-Men, the characterizations of the individual X-Men were still being settled (rather delightfully, for instance, those early stories were setting up a rivalry between Wolverine and Iceman, of all people). In one early appearance, Wolverine escorts Storm to her old stamping grounds in New York’s Harlem. Concerned about her safety in such a rough neighborhood, Wolverine is frustrated that Storm has refused to allow him to accompany and protect her from conceivable danger, and he makes no bones about from whom precisely he was expecting to protect her:

“Buck Henry, for instance.” A buck.

anonymous asked:

Since you were talking about Cap 2, what do you think about MCU Natasha's D.O.B. being 1984 instead of 1920s, like in the comics? It did erase a lot of her history.

It erased a lot of her history in terms of years but not really in terms of her story. For the vast majority of Natasha’s publishing history she hasn’t been secretly immortal. The first stories of Natasha as a small child at the Battle of Stalingrad were published in the early 70s, which would have put Natasha in her mid-30s. Many characters had similar background ties to WW2 or Korea or Vietnam that have since faded away into the familiar impossibilities of comic book time. This kind of thing isn’t erasure, just an insistence that everything in the Marvel Universe happened no more than twelve years ago, and that Franklin Richards is still like 8.

The idea that Natasha is secretly much older than she looks was first brought up in an early 90s X-Men story, but Claremont, the writer, never offered an explanation for this revelation and left the book soon after. So that became a dangling plotline, and pretty soon other writers just decided to ignore it, which was pretty easy to do because it was literally one line in an X-Men comic. Creators continued to treat Natasha as being basically the age she appeared to be up through the middle 2000s. I’d say that it’s the Richard Morgan stuff that informs the MCU background of the character the most, and in those stories Natasha is explicitly stated to be in her late 30s.

Now, the MCU is highly informed by what I’ll call the Mark Millar era of comics. The Ultimates, Civil War, the Winter Soldier arc— all of them were published between 2002 and 2007. Those Richard Morgan Black Widow minis fall pretty directly into the same time period and aesthetic sensibilities. Iron Man came out in 2008, and I’m sure they started brainstorming a sequel even before the first film was released. They wanted to include Black Widow, so they looked at some of the more recent comics to get ideas about what Black Widow was like, and being born in 1929 hadn’t yet been firmly established or adequately explained.

It actually was around 2008 that the idea that Natasha was much, much older than she looked came back into continuity, primarily through Ed Brubaker’s post-Civil War Captain America stories, but also through some Wolverine: Origins stories no one remembers anymore. Anyway, by the time Iron Man 2 was set for release, Marvel was publishing stories that finally explained how Natasha could actually be 80 years old and showing her fighting in WWII. But it was too late for these ideas to be incorporated into the MCU.

Johansson has said that she’s always played Natasha as being born in 1984, that it was something covered in her initial talks about the character. I know I get annoyed when they retcon the comic stories for the sole sake of having them be more like the movies, and I think making Natasha’s D.O.B. circa 1929 in Captain America 2 would have been retconning the movies to make them more like the comics.

I don’t actually dislike the idea that Natasha was born in 1929 and I think some of the comic stories we’ve gotten from that are really cool. But it’s not an essential part of her character for me, probably because I started with a lot of the 2002-2007 comics, just like the MCU did. I don’t mind the comics and the movies being different in this regard.

3

When you and Miss Guthrie were plotting this little coup… when she asked, “Well shit, Anne, what makes you think ol’ Jack will go along with this plan of ours and not plead the truth to his men, as he’s most certainly going to feel duty bound to do?” What did you say?

- I told her given the choice between them or me, you’d choose me.

Our Greatest Mission Yet: Part 1

PAIRING- Steve x reader

WORD COUNT- 1.6K

WARNINGS- ANGST (very Angsty sorry about that, but they will get lighter I promise, this is my first attempts at writing angst and if its terrible let me know!) some swearing as well ! 

GIF NOT MINE

Originally posted by fanfic-natic

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All-New X-Men (2015) #17  Finally the pic we were waiting for. The fight between these two powerful teams. Isn’t it wonderful that we can see in the first IVX issue where the X-men seem to be taking over and it seems like the X-men ain’t taking no crap from the Inhumans. Actually, that’s not really my concern. My concern is this…

Allow me to delineate my thoughts GOD I hate Storm’s costume, UGH. Storm looked like one of those old cheap shiny plastic black and white table cloths. Anyway, I was hoping for Marvel to have Storm facing the Queen, but I guess Marvel ain’t that stupid. How smart and unexpected of Marvel to put 2 weather manipulators in combat. The sister to Queen Medusa, and distant cousin to Black Bolt, Crystal is another prominent Inhuman and princess within their society. You gotta ask yourself “is Crystal blocking Storm’s lightning with fire?” One is a mutant who controls the weather and the other one is an Inhuman who can control all four elements, YIKES. Lightning don’t do a thing to Crystal as she somehow stopped Storms lightening from connecting with Gorgon.

And yes, I see it, I’m not blind, Crystal demolished Storm’s lightning (Just like you see in the first page). Don’t give me that crap of “Crystal did not stop anything from Storm.” because that would make you in denial. I know, I’ve been there myself until Marvel started undermining and segregating Storm. It went to a point where I couldn’t deny everything. I don’t think Storm could’ve gone solo with Crystal when Black Panther (I hate this guy and the day Marvel dragged Storm into his book) interfered or helped Storm in this battle. Crystal went all berserk with her elemental power. She’s creating this massive winds with sands through fire. This is some crazy shit.

Her Terrigen-based powers have given her a WIDE RANGE of abilities. Initially, she had mastery over the four classical elements of Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth, the four elements of nature. Whereas Storm can only manipulate weather, UGH. As time has gone on, she has shown herself to be capable of manipulating the weather in ways similar to the X-Man, Storm. She can also create, and manipulate electricity, in part, due to her ability to manipulate the atoms in the atmosphere, as well as most metals.

She can generate, or even halt, earthquakes. Her geokinetic powers are almost without limit and match one imbued with the Sakarran Old-Power. She possesses strong links to the Earth. Not only our planet, but also the entire universe is formed from material particles in the act of Elements. This is enough to put me in a state of alarm that in this battle we will face for the first time what these Inhumans are really capable of. Specifically Crystal who is close enough to storm due to similar powers. In my mind I’m screaming like “Marvel’s attempts to replace Storm.” Marvel is trying to screw Storm over and making her seem less valuable (and I’m going to pretend that Warbird doesn’t even exist). You have to remember that Storm is being written as incompetent in Extraordinary X-Men so there’s that too.

Edit: Last time I checked, her abilities were still the same except they are now greater. It doesn’t seem Charles Soule nerfed Crystal’s abilities.

I don’t think any of us want to know what it means to be Inhuman. Thanks Crystal, but I’ve seen enough. No need to show off.

Not Much of a Looker (Part 2)

Originally posted by rswinther

Kurt Wagner x Reader

Not Much of a Looker (Part 2)

Part 1: http://imagine-marvel-12.tumblr.com/post/145272330699/not-much-of-a-looker

Prompt: Several of you. Like literally all of you. Hope you like it! :)

After two months of living at the Mansion, you fell into a routine. Every morning, Jean or Ororo would walk you down the stairs for breakfast, and then Kurt would pop in, usually a few minutes later. After that, the two of you would be inseparable. Not quite dating (yet) but certainly more than friends.

After every class, he would teleport to you so he could walk you to the next one. You ended up eating lunch and dinner with him and the others pretty much every day.

And you noticed something while living at Xavier’s. For once in your life, you weren’t an outcast. Even though you couldn’t see, the others did their best to help you in every way and make you feel comfortable and welcome.

You were walking to lunch, latching to Kurt’s arm, as you usually did, when Hank stopped you. He was your science teacher, and it had come up in discussion the day before that your mutation was the reason you were blind.

“Hey (Y/N), can I talk to you for a second?” he asked.

“Sure,” You replied, stopping. “What’s up?”

“Well um,” Hank started. “The discussion we had in class yesterday about your mutation blinding you really gave me an idea. I use a serum to suppress my powers temporarily. I’m not saying it’s a guaranteed fix, but I could make a solution that works for a few hours maybe.”

“You’re saying you could give me my sight, even for a few hours?”

“Theoretically, yes.” Hank nodded. “It’s not guaranteed, but I think it could work.”

“Thank you so, so much!” You said excitedly. Kurt smiled a little, but his smile faded when he realized what this meant. No longer would you have a vague image of what he looked like. You would see him in all of his blue, three-fingered, red-eyed glory.

He walked with you down to lunch and both of you sat with the others. Your smile gave away your good news, so you shared it with the others.

“So you might be able to see?” Jean asked, smiling. You nodded excitedly. “That’s great, (Y/N)!”

“I can’t wait to put the faces to the voices,” You said. Kurt still looked distant, but didn’t say anything. Jean took a peek in his mind and looked at him with sympathy. She knew how each of you felt about eachother, but didn’t want to intervene.

“So when might this happen?” asked Peter. “When do you get to see how attractive I am?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. But I can’t wait!”

“I bet,” Scott smiled.

***

It was a few days later that Hank came to you with a little briefcase. He took you to his office, a few of your friends standing there to meet you, officially, for the first time. Kurt, Scott, Jean, Ororo, Peter, and Jubilee all stood there waiting in anticipation as Hank slid the needle into your arm and squeezed the medication into your veins.

You closed your eyes. They stung a little, but nothing too serious. You blinked, tears forming in the newly functioning eyes. As soon as the medicine took effect, you heard a *bamf*. You rubbed your eyes. Everything was fuzzy, but things began to come into focus.

You looked around at the mutants standing in front of you and started guessing their names.

“You’ve gotta be Peter,” You pointed to him first. The silver hair was a dead giveaway. “And you’re Jean, right?”

“Yep,” she smiled.

“Ororo, Jubilee, Scott…” you listed, pointing to each one. You looked around. “Where’s…Where’s Kurt?”

“He teleported out a few seconds ago,” Scott said.

“Why?”

“I think I know why,” Ororo shook her head.

“So do I,” Jean nodded.

***

“Right there,” Jean pointed from the steps of the mansion. Kurt was sitting at the fountain, staring at his reflection. His tail swayed back and forth, and the wind ruffled his black and blue hair.

“Which one?” You asked. As it was a Saturday and the courtyard was flooded with students.

“The blue one,” She smiled. Your eyes found him.

“Awwwww, he’s so cute!” You gushed. “I don’t know what he’s so worried about.”

“Go get him, tiger,” Peter patted your shoulder. You made your way across the courtyard, walking down the path. The other kids stopped to look. They all knew who you were, and here you were without anyone to guide you.

“Hey there,” You said quietly. Kurt turned, jumping in surprise.

“I see you found me.”

“I did,” you motioned to the others on the stairs. “With some help.”

“So…I’m ‘not much of a looker’ as Peter says, ja?”

“Kurt, you are the cutest. Literally. You are so, so cute. I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I mean, after all, blue is my favorite color. And it looks so, so good on you.” You told him. He smiled, heat rising to his cheeks. He felt like he might melt.

“You mean it?”

“Of course I do,” You smiled, happy tears running down your cheeks. “I have been waiting forever to see you,”

“Oh, don’t cry, liebe,” he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

“They’re happy tears,” you laughed, sniffling.

“Ich liebe dich,” Kurt whispered so softly you barely heard it.

“I love you too, blue,” you smiled, hands rubbing his back. He gasped softly.

“You know German?”

“Only a little, and I only learned so I could tell you that I love you in your own language.” You confessed.

“So are ve…?”

“Dating? If you want to,” You told him. “But I’m still going to need you to be my seeing eye man.”

“Vhy is zhat?” he asked softly. You pulled out of the hug to look at him, lifting your hand to touch his cheek. He smiled, and you took in all of the details of his face, every intricate design. You tried to memorize every facet of him.

“It’s already going away,” You sighed sadly, vision beginning to blur. He stared at you, wide-eyed.

“Zhen let me do zhis vhile you can still see me,” Kurt said.

“Do what?” you asked, but you were cut off my a pair of soft blue lips. He kissed you softly, passionately, like he would never get another chance. His three-fingered hands held your cheeks, thumbs softly stroking your skin as the colorful world around you faded to black once again.

Soft White and Black Light

Idk, don’t ask.
Theme song > here
***
Warren had plenty to hurt over.
His mother’s death, his terrible father, the streets he owned that stabbed him in the back, the cage that ruined every last bit of him, the idiot god that stole his wings and made him something he wasn’t- it all piled up in a stupid, heavy weight that tore at his brain and ate at his skin.

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Baby Tim - Part 3

Baby Tim isn’t really in this one, he is mentioned, but not seen.

—————————————————————————————————-

Your date with Jason is set for three days later, on Saturday. Jason had told you that we was dropping of Tim at Wayne Manor, strictly under Alfred’s care, in order to let Bruce do more scans and to let Zatanna and Doctor Fate take a look at the magic that surrounds Tim.

“Yes, Jason, I understand that you need to do a quick patrol before we go out. It’s fine! I promise, yes I will meet you at the restaurant. Okay, bye”

You chuckle as you hang up the phone, “He’s so damn paranoid “you say to yourself

You continue to get ready for your date, putting on simple makeup, nice jeans and a blue flowy top. You walk out into your living room to put on your shoes when you hear your phone ring.

“Jason I told you …”

“Not, Jason, pretty girl”

You freeze, “Who is this?” you whisper, dreading the answer

“People call me the Black Mask, sweetheart”

“What – why are you calling me?”

Black Mask chuckles, “Well you see, a few days ago one of my associates saw a man they call the Red Hood enter your establishment. According to the video they took, he seemed quite smitten with you.”

You whimper, “That still doesn’t explain why you are calling me”

You hear a sigh, “I have a highly trained sniper who has you in his scope right now. I fyou so much as twitch, you will be shot in the stomach. Now you might wonder ‘why the stomach?’ well you see, your precious Red Hood is on the opposite side of the city right now. As soon as I end this call with you, I am going to give him a ring. If you are shot in the stomach your death will be slow and panful, you will probably still be alive when he gets to you, but you will be too far gone to save. So you will die in his arms and in agony. He has fucked with my organization one too many times, and I think that it is time for him to pay, don’t you?”

“Mr. Mask, I don’t really think that me dying will make him stop coming after you”

“Listen, bitch, I don’t really give a shit what you think, you just need to do as you are told”

“Alright, I won’t move. I will stay right here”

“Good. Goodbye, I truly hope that you enjoy the wait”

You hear the click of the phone hanging up. You look down at your stomach and see the little red dot appear right above your belly button. You whimper and lock your knees, desperate not to fall, to not be shot. You knew that you would eventually be shot, that one the phone call between the Black Mask and the Red Hood was over that the snipers trigger would be pulled. That you were probably going to die that night.

-

Jason leapt from rooftop to rooftop, hurrying to finish him patrol so he could go get ready for his date. Currently he was on the phone with Tim, saying goodnight to his little boy

“Daddy! Daddy! I no wanna sleep!”

Jason chuckled, “You have to sleep, Timmy. You need to be a good boy and go to sleep, so you are all rested when Y/N comes over to play tomorrow”

Tim gave a long suffering sigh, “Okay daddy. Night night!”

“Night night, baby”

Jason hung up the phone and continued on his patrol. Five minutes later his phone rang again.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mr. Hood! How is patrol tonight?”

“Black Mask. Didn’t expect to hear from you tonight”

“I have something to tell you” Black Mask practically sang, “I have your little sweetheart in the scope of a sniper right now! Your girl, what was he name? Y/N I believe”

Jason could feel his blood run cold, and he immediately began to make his way toward your apartment, “I swear to fucking God, if you hurt her …”

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You haven’t managed to do that you. Plus I do believe that you are working for the Batman now, and he has a very strict moral code against killing”

“I don’t give a shit about him, you had better not hurt her!”

“As soon as I hang up this phone, the message will be sent to my guy to shoot her. So you better hurry, Hood, or you won’t get the chance to say goodbye” the Black Mask’s laughter is cut off when he hangs up the phone.

Immediately Jason was calling Bruce, “B, I need an ambulance at Y/N’s apartment, Black Mask said that he had a sniper on her. I am in route now. He said that she would be shot when he ended the phone call, that was about two minutes ago”

“An ambulance has been dispatched to her location”

“Thank you”

“Jason” Damian’s voice spoke up, “You had better make it in time”

Jason just grunted, and ran even faster, desperate to get to Y/N, so save her.

-

The waiting seems to take hours, but in reality you know that it is only a few minutes. You tremble as you wait for the inevitable moment where you will be shot. Even though you are waiting for it, you are still not prepared when it happens. You hear the window shattering before you feel the pain. It feels like fire has ripped through your stomach. You scream.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you whimper, “gotta put pressure on it.”

You let out a sob as you when you use a blanket to try and stop the bleeding. You can hear an ambulance stop outside of your apartment, Jason had called an ambulance. You just might survive the night, you might make it. You can hear the EMT’s pounding on your door, shouting for you to unlock the door. You stumble to your feet, trying to make your way to the door.

“Miss?! Miss, open the door!”

You don’t really remember making your way to the door, but suddenly it is open and you are staring at two paramedics.

“Help” you whimper, collapsing forward, into the arms of the two men.

“Just stay with us! Can you tell up what happened?”

You try to answer, but you only end up coughing up blood. You can feel the edged of you vision begin to go grey. You can feel you consciousness slipping. The last thing you remember is burning pain in your stomach and you wondered how Jason would tell Tim that you were going to miss their play date tomorrow.

A. Peter Bailey's response to the Assassination of Malcolm X, 1965

“The following is exactly what I wrote 48 years ago in response to the assassination of Brother Malcolm:

Bro. Malcolm X has been assassinated. Once again, as has happened many times in U.S. history, a black man who was considered a threat to the white racist system has been murdered by other black men. Nat Turner, Denmark Vesey, Marcus Garvey and countless other black leaders were all destroyed by blacks working in alliance with the white power structure. We have to assume it was an alliance because the FBI and local police force and the press have constantly bragged that they have infiltrated the Black Muslim movement, thus they know every move the Black Muslims make. It this be true, and they are the ones who made the claims, then they are either lying about the infiltration or they knew that Bro. Malcolm’s life was in danger and made no attempt to stop the plotters. It is the same situation with the Ku Klux Klan. The FBI constantly brag that they have infiltrated the Klan, yet the Klan has been able to continue its campaign of brutality, harassment and lynching against black people. Again the question is if the Klan is infiltrated how are they able to operate so successfully? The FBI and the police force have almost completely immobilized the Communist Party and successful infiltration; only recently they and the NYC police force were able to infiltrate a small group of black men and accuse them of plotting the bombing of certain monuments. Yet now they and the press want us to believe that an organization, which claimed had been infiltrated by agents, plotted a crime of gigantic magnitude without the infiltrator finding out about it. It is no doubt that if the Black Muslims had planned to bomb or assassinate Wagner or some other comparable figures, they would have been halted before any such plan could succeed. The press is having a field day. It’s all so simple, a feud between the Black Muslims and Bro. Malcolm. Everything is in a tight little package. There are many of us who believe that there are others who desired the death of Bro. Malcolm. For instance those people who had him banned from France, those same people who worried about the effects of his trips abroad, those same people who dreaded the consequences of his trips South. He had spoken in Alabama and was due to speak in Mississippi. These people also would benefit from the removal of Malcolm X. He didn’t fir their pattern. He didn’t waste time criticizing Wallace, Barnett, Clark, Bull Conner and other individual villains speaking for white supremacy. He recognized that these men were products of an evil system, a system which has, for over 350 years, treated non-white people as sub-humans. He recognized that the above individuals were able to operate so freely because the system allowed them to do so. He realized that the power of the racists in Washington is so strong that they can block enforcement of any Civil Rights law. They might not be able to block the law from passing, but they could lock enforcement and laws without the desire and determination for enforcement are meaningless. He knew that powerful racists in the federal government had veto power over the selection of judges and that as long as they held this power, laws are totally meaningless. You let me select the judges and I don’t care what kind of laws you pass. The current situation in Selma is a perfect example of this lack of enforcement.

The Civil Rights law passed in July 1964 was hailed by the press and others as The Supreme accomplishment. Now no more laws would be needed. Voting rights were guaranteed. Bro. Malcolm attacked this belief. He called the laws a fraud. Selma has proven him right. Hundreds of black people are being beaten and jailed for attempting, not to vote, but to register to vote. What is the response of the federal government? Strict enforcement of the recently passed law. No! The arresting of brutal local law officers. No! It’s the same tired call for more laws. 

Bro. Malcolm saw those things occurring and recognizing that the federal government was either unable or unwilling to protect the lives and property of black people, he called for a new approach. Domestically, he told black people to unite and adopt a program of self-defense: internationally, he called for black people to look elsewhere for allies in the struggle for human rights. He said that our struggle is only a part of the worldwide struggle where formerly oppressed people were throwing off oppression and asserting themselves. He told us to make use of the U.N., especially the Commission on Human Rights, as other minority groups have done, most notable the Russian Jews. He traveled throughout Africa, the Middle East and Europe telling any group who would listen that black people in the U.S. needed their help in their struggle for human rights. He felt that Afro-Americans have a psychological complex about being a minority and that if they tied their struggle to the struggles of oppressed people throughout the world, it would help them, psychologically, in their own struggle. 

These two approaches by Bro. Malcolm, the call for self-defense and the internationalizing of the racial struggle, profoundly disturbed the power structure and their allies. They first tried to brand him as a wild man advocating violence. I heard him speak publicly and privately many times and I never heard him tell black people to roam the streets indiscriminately shooting whites. He only called for self-defense, which is a basic element in all human society. His specific words were: “In those areas where the federal government is either unable or unwilling to protect the lives and property of black people, then black people should prepare to defend themselves.” Hardly a statement advocating violence. I would called it a reasonable statement. The Human Rights Struggle is already a violent movement; the violence all being committed by the white supremacists.

When Bro. Malcolm traveled abroad, they had their people watch him. They feared his eloquent and well-documented speeches to friendly audiences. Newspapers cooperated by completely blacking out reports of his travels abroad; newspaper columnists dropped hints about taking away his passport and by attempting to brand him a communist. They finally had him banned from speaking at a rally in France. He wasn’t even allowed by the French bureaucrats to contact the American embassy in Paris. He told us when he commented on the official that he didn’t know that France has become a satellite of the U.S., the man blushed and implied that the American embassy was involved in the ban. Incidentally, Bro. Malcolm said that the French Communist Party had refused to allow the rally to be held in their hall and had put pressure on other owners to deny their halls. All of these things make us feel that there are others who desire and would benefit from the removal of Bro. Malcolm.

Bro. Malcolm was a considerate man, the most considerate man I had ever known. The press gleefully took his words out of context and tried to paint him as a monster when reporting his death. They claimed credit for there even being a Malcolm X. They scoffed at him by saying that he had a handful of followers, and, as one said, he had built up a myth. They were practically dancing over his body. The New York Times and the New York Herald Tribune, those pious, hypocritical prostitutes of the daily press, gave Zeus-like editorials about what a terrible man he was, the Herald Tribune saying that he was no loss to the Civil Rights movement. It must be said that the press devoted a fantastic amount of space and time to the death of such an “Insignificant” man. Their very press coverage of his death and the reaction of the people and others leaders showed that the Human Rights Movement suffered a considerable loss with the assassination of this articulate, forceful black man. He even presented an image that white America is not used to seeing in black men. They resented and feared not only what he was doing, but even more so the potential of what he could do in the future. Bro. Malcolm pointed this out very clearly when he told an antagonist on a radio program that if people like him would spend more time helping and protecting Rev. Martin Luther King and his followers and less time searching for material with which to attack him and other nationalists, the U.S. would be a better place to live.

Bro. Malcolm was a considerate man, a man who was always courteous to the people who worked with him. On the day that he was assassinated I spoke with him. He called me to the room where he was waiting for the rally to begin. this man who the press tries to paint as a monster called me backstage because he wanted to apologize for having spoken sharply to me the previous Saturday. He really hadn’t but he thought that he had called me backstage to apologize. He said that he had just been slightly upset. This is only one example of many such considerate acts that he did for people who worked for him. We talked of several other things in that room. I was one of the last five people that he spoke to before being assassinated. He was not feeling well and he mentioned to me that “The way I feel today I shouldn’t even be speaking publicly.” The press has combined with the police to tell so many lies about that day. One paper said that whites were banned from the rally; a lie only the press was banned; another said that an ambulance came to get him; another lie, we had to send two brothers over to the hospital to get a stretcher, which they brought back to the ballroom and placed Bro. Malcolm upon it and rolled him through the streets to the hospital. The brothers also reported that doctors refused to come to the ballroom; Bro. Malcolm laid on that ballroom stage for over 20 minutes. They say the police rushed right into the hall; another lie. I was sitting in the rear of the hall watching the entrance for the speaker who was expected. After hearing four shots I ran into the main hall, looked up front, saw nothing but confusion. The place sounded like a battlefield. I then ducked back out with groups of people running towards me and ducked into the bathroom, as the side area to avoid the shots. Then immediately after the last shots I ran out of the bathroom and down the center of the totally wrecked hall to the stage. Jumping onto the stage I saw Bro. Malcolm lying on the stage floor with bullet holes all over his chest. I leaned over him and saw that his skin was already getting that deathly look. There were several people administering to him when I got to the stage. I went into the room where others were holding his wife. I told her that someone had gone for the doctor, not knowing whether this was true or not. I then jumped from the stage and started to the rear of the hall to see if a doctor was on the way. It was then, almost ¾ of the way down the hall that I saw the first two cops and those two were just walking through the hall as though they were on a Sunday stroll. This, despite the fact that people were still screaming, crying and the place looked like a battlefield. I can categorically say that the police did not immediately react to the assassination in a professional way. The press lied about that too. And now members of the press have asked the police how a place so thoroughly guarded as the Mosque could be burned down so effectively. The press reporting after Bro. Malcolm’s assassination had been so blatantly an attempt to encourage blood-letting and suspicion among militant black groups that very few people in the black community have been fooled.”

Taken from “Witnessing Brother Malcolm X: The Master Teacher: A Memoir” By A. Peter Bailey. (pgs 110-119)

One-shot (Reader x Steve/Bucky)

This is my first request so idk if I’m doing it right. But I enjoyed writing it. 

Anonymous: Can you write a oneshot where the reader is kidnapped on a mission and experimented on by HYDRA. And Bucky and Steve try to rescue her and she’s incapacitated (kind of like Bucky in the first movie when he was experimented on) So she’s mumbling numbers and useless information and then they bring her back to the tower and happy ending! (lots of experimentation sadness would be great) and please make it sad!

Keep reading

  • Me: *holds BvS and X-Men Apocalypse on a pedestal* They are too good for this world. Too good, Too pure.
  • MCU Stan: BUT CRITICS HATED THEM. THEY WERE SO AWFUL, LOOK AT CIVIL WAR.
  • Me: Yes, let's do that. Forced heterosexual romance, entirely OOC scenes for Iron Man and Cap, cliched writing, revealing a twist that was revealed already in Winter Solider, another forced villain, sidelining Black Widow even worse then she was in Iron Man 2, and not contributing anything interesting other then everything to do with Black Panther, Wanda, and the new Spider-Man?
  • MCU STAN: Um...
  • Me: Yeah, that's what I thought!
Furious Lady

(Jon x Reader)

Request:  The reader is Brienne’s sister and Jon and her falls for each other, but Brienne is against the relationship.

@rickdixonandthefandomlifeposts


Sneaking around Castle Black wasn’t as hard as you had anticipated when you first arrived here. There were guards on the walls and some on the entrance but all eyes were focused on what was going on beyond the wall not inside.

You passed some half asleep men without being noticed and slipped into the Lord Commanders chamber.

„I was wondering if someone had finally caught you.“ Jon says and turns around with a smile to greet you. That smile that made you fall so hard for him. Some time had passed since the first day you had arrived here together with your sister and Sansa.

„You were waiting? Didn’t you tell me to stop coming here because it was too dangerous?“

„I know you wouldn’t listen.“

You slowly walk over, standing on the tip of your toes to reach up to him and press a kiss to his lips.  Jon grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder with ease to carry you over to the bed. You laugh and wiggle around, almost falling over a few times until he lets you flop down onto the bed.

„Does that mean you’re not sending me back to my own room?“ You say and bat your eyelashes at him with a grin.

„How could I? You’re making it very hard for me to be mad.“

You snuggle into the warm furs and wait for Jon to get into bed as well. He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you protectively while he strokes your hair, making you fall asleep quickly.



You were rudely pulled out of your sleep the next morning when someone came storming in without knocking. Both of you sat up straight in bed, shocked at the sudden intrusion. The thought of hiding crossed your mind but by then it was already too late. You saw your sister standing in the door, her face changing from anger to shock and then quickly back to anger once she realized what was going on.

„I can explain.“ You say in a vain attempt to calm her down.

„My little sister? Really Jon?“ She storms towards him, completely ignoring you and your protest to leave him alone. It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong, well besides breaking his oath but he certainly had done that a few times before.

Jon puts up his hands in front of him, „It’s not how it looks. I mean…yes it is but what I’m trying to say is that I really care for your sister.“

She stops in front of him with an unreadable expression, „That’s great.“ She says before punching him square in the face so hard he hits the ground, „Don’t hurt her then. I can tell you I’m not happy about this if I see you doing anything immoral to her you’re in trouble.“

With this she storms out and you hurry over, kneeling down besides Jon on the ground, „Are you okay? I’m so sorry that is my fault I shouldn’t have come.“

„No…no I’m fine.“ He says and starts to laugh, „I like your sister.“

You help Jon up, both of you getting dressed before you slip out of the room, making sure no one else saw you. Brienne was one thing but if some of Jons men caught you that wouldn’t be good.



„What happened to you?“ Tormund asks, looking at Jons face at dinner.

„I was punched by a very furious Lady.“ He answers without any further explanation.

2

It’s sad that in these times people have forgotten what it means to be a Gangsta. Too many of us think that getting into dumb fights over sneakers or rapping about guns is some “Gangsta shit”. Black Gangs were created to protect black people from all types of police brutality and harassment. It was intended to provide security for us. Therefore, a real gangsta is one who defends his people; fights for them and provides for them. That’s Gangsta shit. 
Written by @KingKwajo

2

(Not My Gif)

When Peter heard you scream he immediately zoomed to your dorm and found you standing on your bed.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked worriedly.

You pointed a shaky finger at the ground. Peter looked down to see what looked like a small black dot on the floor. Walking over to get a better look Peter realized it was a spider.

Peter looked at you, a slow smirk forming on his face and soon he was laughing so hard he was rolling on the floor.
“Man [Y/N] I thought you were dying or something” Peter cackled holding his chest.

“Shut up and get rid of it!” You ordered furiously. Your face was becoming red with both anger and embarrassment.

Peter obeyed but he laughed the whole time.

10

So there been a lot of talk about the spider woman variant cover by Milo Manara and I thought that some perspective might be helpful. Too be clear this is what Manara does he makes sexualized versions of superheroes on the covers he is hired to do. As you can see in all of these covers the female protagonists have been drawn in a heavily sexual pose and style. Some People seem to think spider woman was a first but in reality Marvel knew exactly what they were doing when they hired him which leads to the bigger question of not “why did this artist draw the character like this?” As so many have been asking, but why did Marvel choose to commission an artist who draws in this style during what has apeared to be a concentrated push by the company to attract more female readers and scale back on the deep set trend of female over-sexualization in comics?

“You were safe!”

“That’s what I was going to say!”

“I was very worried!”

“That too is what I was going to say”

“How good…”

“It really makes me glad…”

“I did nothing more than think about your death”

“Idiot, men shouldn’t show dumb tears”

“Welcome back, Trunks”

“Yes…”