#any other version inspires anger in me

[jewishcissiekj]

WHY DO I HATE MY FAVORITE CHARACTER

[sansaorgana]

— IN PERPETUITY (I)

PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Maia!Reader

SUMMARY — Two most powerful Lieutenants of Morgoth and twisted lovers in private form a pact through cursed marriage to become their master's equal successors and rule Middle-earth together. He, however, has other plans and does not intend to share. She takes the matters into her own hands.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The idea for this fic showed up in my head while I was working on a different fic with a Maia!Reader, in which she is good and pure and all that. And that other story will be finished and posted, too, but with a delay because I focused on this one first. 🙈 The Reader in this fic is a Maia, so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. This fic will have a second part with Annatar!Sauron but in this part you get only Jack Lowden!Sauron because that ginger loser needs some love and attention as well. 😭🥰 The title of the fanfic and its vibe are inspired by the song Sugarbread by Soap&Skin. Special thanks to @dinsbeskar for giving me the most appreciated feedback before I posted this fic! 💕

WARNINGS — Reader is evil-evil with sadistic undertones, betrayal, murder, manipulation, gaslighting, blood drinking/pact/magic, mentions of Sauron being tortured by Morgoth, SMUT, sub!Sauron

WORD COUNT — 4,650

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

IN PERPETUITY (I)

It was no surprise to any of The Valar that you were one of the first to follow Morgoth. You always found it troublesome to obey the orders, to show respect or loyalty. As if you had been already created flawed, although no one dared to question Eru’s decisions.

The gods were aware, however, that Morgoth wanted you as his servant as well for he was a god like them. Therefore, they expected you to come back with your tail between your legs, begging for their forgiveness since they were much more merciful masters than he ever would be.

Nevertheless, that did not happen and you became one of the most loyal Lieutenants to the Dark Lord. You sometimes amazed your own self with the amount of cruelty you were able to inflict. Perhaps Eru himself had created you this way indeed – perhaps you were evil by his design. Dark creatures like Morgoth or you were needed to emphasise the lightness – cursed outcasts to show an example.

Morgoth did not even need to break you as much as others who had followed him. He did not feel the need to rebuild you or push you as far as most of his followers because it did not take much for you to become the very worst version of yourself.

You were the lucky one.

Mairon was not.

You could hear his whimpers and screams of pain as he was tortured. And you watched and watched in awe at him transforming with Morgoth's help into the man that would from now on be known as Sauron amongst many.

But to you he would remain Mairon. And Mairon watched you in awe, too.

He observed you with admiration and curiosity. He wanted to be more like you – so terrifyingly beautiful in your art of cruelty. And he was learning the craft from you.

Until, eventually, with your master's help and by his twisted design, Mairon became a Lieutenant as loyal and fierce as you.

And each time he failed at a task given to him by Morgoth, he would come to you first, seeking comfort and hoping you would ease your master before their encounter – like a child would come to their mother, fearing their father's anger.

Everyone knew Morgoth was gracing you with a special treatment. And even though it was unlikely he was able to feel any real affection towards you, many knew that you were the only Lieutenant of his that he actually cared about because you were the only one who abandoned The Valar thoroughly and wholly.

You did not care about him, though. The Valar were right – you did not enjoy being under him; under anyone. And you truly hated the destruction that he was causing as you could not understand the desire of becoming the King of ashes.

You wanted to be the Dark Lady yourself and you often fantasised what you would do if you were him. His god-like status did not intimidate you and you could not care less whether it was a blasphemy or not to imagine yourself as a Vala. No god had ever intimated you.

You were your own god and you wanted to rule over the world. To make it perfect and harmonious.

You became closer with Mairon when you sensed his heart was corrupted with the same thoughts and feelings. And while your Maiar bodies remained focused on the battles and schemes – so unfamiliar with the carnal desires of the flesh – as you spent more and more time together and he shared with you his dream of forging the very special and powerful Rings, you could feel the strange and odd desire growing within you.

One day, you gave in to them.

You heard his screams of pain throughout the fortress like the ones back in the day when Morgoth had been shaping him to his whim and design. Now he was punishing him for one of his failures and your master’s wrath was undeniable.

Mairon was one of his best Lieutenants, therefore Morgoth expected from him the most.

And when the punishment ended, Mairon found himself knocking weakly upon the doors of your chambers. You opened them and gasped at the state of his flesh. He was too weak to heal himself fully, allowing the bruises to form and cuts to bleed.

You welcomed him and laid him down in your bed before tangling your limbs with his; his face buried in your chest as your fingers brushed his ginger hair and gently teased his pointy ears.

"My poor Mairon," you whispered and leaned in to place a kiss upon his temple.

He looked up at you with devotion.

Unlike you, he had been once Eru’s perfect creation – Mairon had been pure in his past, worshipping the Valar like he had been designed to. The Valar were no more in his heart but the devotion remained and you were the subject of it.

"Let me ease your pain," you spoke softly and caressed his cheek with your fingers, making the small cuts disappear as bruises began to fade away. He closed his eyes and sighed out of relief. "Where else can I aid you, my Mairon?" You asked as his eyelids fluttered and opened.

"Everywhere," he breathed out. "I need you everywhere, my Lady."

The odd desire you had been fighting within you for a long time now apparently was not one-sided. Perhaps a Maia fallen was a Maia burdened with such humiliating and carnal needs.

You rolled him over onto his back as you sat astride him with a sparkle of excitement in your eyes. Maybe it was not a burden... Maybe it would be a new adventure, a new path to follow.

You got rid of his robes in a haste as his hands weakly caressed your thighs wherever they could reach under your dress. And once he was naked for you – under you – you felt like an animal, driven by the urges you could not stop.

That felt ungodly.

Your fingers curled on his chest, scratching the flesh and you watched your nails leave red trails upon his pale skin. Instead of healing him, you only added more to the pain but the pathetic whimpers leaving his mouth were not of suffering but of pleasure.

"Yours..." was all he gasped as your pupils widened even further. Yours... How good it felt to have him at your mercy.

You were like Morgoth himself now with Mairon laid out for you, eager for you to shape him the way you wished him to be.

And you loved to feel like Morgoth, to share at least a tiny bit of his power. The realisation was enough to make you feel the itch deep inside the heat of your core.

"Mine..." you nodded at Mairon and grasped his length to squeeze it, watching him wince as the flesh hardened under your touch.

You kept pumping him and observing all his sighs, eye rolls and the tremble of his thighs. His eyes filled with tears as he kept bravely staring up at you despite his vision getting blurry and hazy.

Your pace quickened and you used your free hand to caress his thighs gently as if you were trying to soothe them but it only caused them to tremble more while you watched his body giving in to your touch so eagerly and easily.

All of the sudden, just to tease him, you stopped your hand's rapid movements and squeezed the swollen tip. Mairon whined and bucked his hips desperately, the tip of his cock pulsating under your thumb. When you let go of him completely, he spilled himself with a groan and blushing cheeks as his hips kept rutting into nothing.

What a pathetic and yet delicious sight it was. You felt the wetness between your legs leaking down your thighs already.

“You're so fun to play with, my Mairon," you pointed out. "I wish our master allowed me to be the one responsible for your punishments."

"I wish that, too, my Lady," he breathed out, putting his hand on his chest, surprised to feel how fast his heart pounded.

"It is not over yet," you pouted. "You spoiled my fun by giving in to your desires so quickly."

You smirked and with one swift movement you took your dress off to throw it on the floor, revealing your naked form to him. You adjusted yourself and grabbed his cock once more, so swollen and sensitive, which caused Mairon to whimper. You lowered yourself slowly on his length, hissing at the new experience of feeling full.

Your eyes rolled all the way to the back as you threw your head and scratched Mairon's chest when you felt his cock hardening once more inside of you and brushing all the right spots that made you aware of pleasures of the flesh you had never even known of before.

"Divine," he breathed out and you rolled your hips slowly with a whine.

When you adjusted to the slightly burning feeling, your eyes opened with a sparkle of mischief as you began riding him – faster and faster with each given bounce, keeping your eye contact with him although his vision was too hazy to see you clearly.

It was like a trance and you lost track of time. The Maiar needed no rest, therefore it could have been days – maybe even weeks – spent on nothing else but fucking yourself on his cock, using him for your own, newlyfound pleasure; reaching your highs countless of times and beginning all over and over again until the matters much more important than indulging yourselves interrupted your blissful state.

"One day, there will be only the two of us," Mairon whispered into your ear as he watched you getting dressed in front of the mirror. "And we will not leave our chambers for a whole century."

"Would you leave your kingdom unattended for such a long time?" You raised an eyebrow at him. "I certainly would not," you added harshly and fixed your gown's corset one last time before leaving him behind inside your chambers as you walked out with your head held high and back straightened.

With an illusion of dignity that was supposed to hide the fact you had just spent long and endless days on worshipping Mairon’s flesh with nothing but pleasure and devotion as he had been only laying there and receiving and you had been the one to do all the work like he was the master you served.

After Morgoth's defeat, Mairon and you both were the only ones who could possibly become your master's successors for you were his most powerful Lieutenants.

Instead of starting a war between yourselves, you chose to create a pact of taking over Morgoth's legacy together as equals.

The holy bond of marriage was the most suitable way to seal this union for all eternity, especially when it seemed that you two shared the same goal and the same vision of healing Middle-earth and crafting it to fit your peaceful ideal.

The oath had nothing to do with the holy Valinor's customs. You used forbidden dark magic to bind you two together in perpetuity; mixing your black bloods together and drinking the cursed mixture from the cup as you exchanged the rings forged by Mairon himself with your aid; made of dark iron and with powerful spells engraved on them.

Adar was the master of your ceremony. He had stayed by your side after Morgoth's defeat and Mairon had promoted him to the rank of Lieutenant because you two needed smart and loyal people – especially if they had a whole army of the Orcs following their every order.

You could sense your marriage pact with Marion was making Adar a little uncomfortable. He was watching you carefully throughout the ceremony and also during the feast where he was sitting nearby.

Mairon's behaviour was surprising you a little. Never before he had been so open with the amount of his devotion towards you. And now, despite the audience of the Orcs and the fallen Elves, he was all over you, kissing your neck between the sweet nothings whispered into your pointed ear as his fingers intertwined with yours under the table to squeeze your hand.

He was like a dog, you thought, but you could not blame him. He had admired you from the very beginning of his service to Morgoth and now he had you as his spouse. You allowed him to enjoy himself because it was the day of your wedding.

For you, it was more of a transaction. You cared about Mairon to some extent and your flesh enjoyed to fuck his but there was nothing in this world that you would love more than power.

"My Lady, can we talk?" Adar approached you when you were left alone for a moment.

You looked up, surprised, but the seriousness of his expression was making it obvious that the matter was rather important.

"What is it, Lieutenant?" You asked him as you followed him to the dark corner of the room where you could hide in the shadows together.

"I am a bearer of the bad news, I am afraid," Adar started and you furrowed your brows.

"Did Elven armies find our fortress?" You asked.

"No. Not the bad news of this kind," he lowered his voice even more and he glanced at Mairon from the corner of his eye.

You looked at your husband, too. He was talking to some of the fallen Elves and his excitement was revealing that he probably discussed his plans for the future.

"Do continue," you nodded at Adar, looking back at him with curiosity.

"Mairon does not plan to share anything with you," he informed you. "He re-fired Morgoth's crown to fit himself."

Your blood turned cold at the revelation. Morgoth's crown was supposed to be melted and turned into two smaller but equal crowns. That was the deal between you and Mairon – two spouses, two crowns, two Rings, one kingdom.

You glanced once more at your husband. How innocent he seemed at the moment, how devoted to you. And yet…

Your own student outsmarted you in the art of cunning treachery, so it seemed. You gritted your teeth.

"How do you know?" You asked Adar just to make sure.

"I was there," he answered with a hint of smirk, knowing very well that his delay of bringing you the news created a new problem for you.

"And you are telling me this only now? After I am bound to him forever?" Your jaw clenched out of anger as you realised.

"I have been a loyal servant to your husband and it still pains me to betray him by telling you the truth but I must think of my children first and at this very feast I overheard his plans for the Uruk. I cannot let this happen," he revealed and you sighed. You knew what plans he was talking about.

Mairon had never considered the Orcs to be smart creatures, therefore he often was speaking freely and openly about what he planned to do with them or what he was thinking of them because he thought they would not even understand.

Perhaps they would not but their Lord Father would.

"I have never been fond of your children either, Adar," you reminded him.

"Yet you make a better ally than he. I know you can give up on enslaving the Uruk if I helped you to rule over Middle-earth with their army in return. Alone. A Queen with no King," he whispered and his tempting words sent a shiver down your spine.

After a very short moment of hesitation – which surprised you to exist at all – you nodded at Adar.

“Say no more,” you whispered.

And when Mairon informed you a few weeks after your wedding that he wanted to be crowned soon and that he wished for you to be the one to put Morgoth’s crown onto his head, you agreed with a sweet smile that should have made him realise how false it was. But he was too relieved with the fact that you seemed to have no problem at all with giving him the most important title, therefore he did not notice the coldness of your gaze.

"My dear," he kneeled in front of you while you were sitting on the edge of your bed and he held your hands softly in his as he leaned in to kiss them. "It brings me so much joy to know it will be you to lay the crown onto my head. I do not wish for anyone else to bless me for I would not be here if it was not for you."

"Indeed, my sweet Mairon," was all you said with a scolding gaze but, once again, he chose not to see it. “My King,” you added with irony – one more time the tone of your voice remained ignored.

Sometimes, he would use his illusions to fool even himself. And that very thing would turn out to be his demise.

“You will be my right hand, my Queen, my goddess,” he kept assuring you and kissing the palms of your hands as you kept gritting your teeth.

His right hand, he dared to say. You were supposed to be one body, one soul. His Queen and yet she would bear no crown – not the same as his at least. His goddess but his devotion was a lie. He loved power more than he loved you.

But you loved power more than you loved him as well, so it was only fair.

And how else could you repay for his betrayal if not with a betrayal in return?

You already had a whole plan formed with Adar and all you had to do now was to patiently wait for the day of the coronation. You truly hoped that Morgoth's crown was powerful enough to kill your husband, so he could exist no more and so would the bond of blood magic between you be broken forever.

You were wearing beautiful, matching robes with your husband and your only audience were the Orcs and Adar, who was holding Morgoth’s crown as Mairon decided to give a speech to his new army.

You couldn’t help yourself as you kept glancing at the re-fired and re-shaped crown with a bitter and sour expression. 

“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again. Morgoth is gone,” your husband announced to the Orcs. “Leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and you exchanged a meaningful look with Adar at the sight of Mairon’s fingers fidgeting nervously. “Under me. Your new master. Sauron.”

It should have been you. Giving the speech. Being crowned. And you would be. Soon. Very soon.

However, you loved the dramatics as much as your husband. And you would gladly allow him to make a fool out of himself first.

“And with a new age, I bring a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest. For I seek a new kind of power,” Mairon raised his right hand as he spoke, posing to be some sort of a sage sharing his wisdom. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will.”

The Orcs seemed to be content with his words and for that one thing you admired him, actually – the way he always knew what to say to make people follow him and be enamoured with his visions.

You knew that he did not care about what the Orcs wanted and the words he was using now were nothing but a temptation for them to obey his orders. But it was them he wanted enslaved, not the others. The others were meant to be healed.

“Many Orcs will die,” Mairon added and you felt Adar moving uncomfortably. The Orcs did not seem to be as happy as before and you could not blame them. You glanced at your husband with a raised eyebrow.

Sometimes, even the ones most graced with a gift of the golden speech, would say a sentence too many.

“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon smiled, excitedly and you rolled your eyes. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but he was overdoing himself, it was too much and the Orcs were not as stupid as he believed them to be.

You could sense their nervousness and you could hear their whispers in the Black Speech: “Sauron lies”.

It brought you lots of satisfaction as you smirked to yourself, however you had to hide that smile quickly because your husband’s eyes desperately seeked for yours. He needed your comfort and your encouragement, so pathetically. So desperate to prove his worth as he had always been.

You nodded at him with a sympathetic smile, playing a role of a dutiful and supportive wife.

“Doubt me at your peril,” he began once more but his voice slightly weakened as he did so and then he clasped his hands while his voice suddenly turned darker. He decided to use a different tactic. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.

Perhaps you were not as skilled as he was with your speeches but you knew that this was not the way to lure the Orcs. It was not the way to lure anyone. Mairon was losing control – even the fact his hands were clasped was only trying to hide how shaky they had become.

“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” he continued as the Orcs began to growl. In that moment, you were glad you had your pact with Adar, because otherwise you would not feel safe amongst them.

Suddenly, one of the Orcs standing closest to Mairon attacked him with his blade, making an assassination attempt. Your husband swiftly defended himself and slit his throat, for which you were glad.

You would kill that Orc yourself if he maimed Mairon before you could lay your hands on him. He was yours to slaughter.

As the creature dropped down to his knees and continued choking on his own blood, you watched Mairon pull the Orc even closer and watch his suffering with the same fascinated expression as you had used to watch him when he had been reshaped by Morgoth.

And then, he finished the assassin off with his own blade being put into the Orc’s skull. Over and over again as Adar flinched at the sight of his son being treated this way and the Orcs kept growling in anger.

And you, in that moment – for a short while – actually considered following your husband like you had once followed Morgoth. To forgive him his betrayal and to play along the role of a dutiful wife.

His cruelty spurred you on as you watched and watched, refusing to look away until the Orc’s body hit the floor and Mairon threw away the blade to fix his ginger hair that had gotten messy from the fight.

You could sense his frustration. His blood was now flowing in your veins just like yours was flowing in his.

“I am your only future and my path is your only path!” He yelled at the Orcs, fury and rage filling him whole and causing the veins of his face to fill up and swell with his thick and black blood.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly. The admiration you had felt not even a minute earlier was all gone now and once again you felt ashamed of your husband.

Morgoth had never yelled desperately like that to get respect. He had never threatened – not so openly. His very presence had been enough to follow him out of fear.

“Who among you dare say otherwise?” Mairon asked, more calmly now.

Soon, he would find out who exactly dared.

But so far, he still trusted you. He turned his head around and nodded at you, his eyes filled with faith.

You nodded back and took Morgoth’s crown from Adar’s hands. It was heavy and powerful as its dark magic vibrated from it all throughout your body when you carried it towards the crowd.

The Orcs were snarling at you when you raised your hands with the crown, not pleased at all that you were about to lay it upon your husband’s head.

“All Hail, Lord Sauron!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord.”

The Orcs hesitated but they followed what their Lord Father said.

“All hail!” They chanted and you walked away to your husband, who had just kneeled for you.

Like in the old days, before all the battles Morgoth had been sending him to. Mairon would kneel and you would bless him with your sword.

You raised your hands once more as a thrill of excitement went through your body. Mairon looked up at you through the crown placed above his head and you could spot the hint of doubt. Your bond worked both ways and he could sense something disturbing about you but you soothed him with a soft and fake smile.

Unsurely, he lowered his head once more and looked down, waiting for you to grace his head with the burden of the crown.

And the crown was a burden indeed. So full of dark and powerful magic that you knew already it was most certainly enough to kill a spirit like your husband.

You turned it around in a swift movement and lowered it with all your strength to stab him in the back of his neck as the crown’s poison infected his veins and made him move back out of the sudden pain.

You took the crown away from him and took a few steps back to stand next to Adar as the Orcs began screaming and approaching you all. Mairon’s eyes were full of surprise and disappointment and he kept them only on you as you graced him with the same soft smile you had been giving him for weeks now; for him to finally realise how false it was all this time.

“You could have kept your promise, my pet,” you told him in the Quenya language.

Your words angered him and he tried to stand up with his weakened limbs to fight you but in that very moment a group of Orcs attacked him all at once, stabbing his flesh continuously as you watched. He was making an attempt to fight them back and for the state he was in, he was truly doing well, but they were too many and he was alone.

And even if some part of you would truly mourn for your husband, the dark item in your hand with his blood dripping down on the floor from its iron spikes was enough to bring your mind back on the right path.

And as the Orcs kept stabbing his body, which was laying now in the puddle of dark and sticky blood, you raised the crown once more and put it on your own head, feeling Mairon’s blood dripping from it onto your face.

You licked your lips to get the taste. For the one last time you tasted him as you smirked.

You turned your head around to nod at Adar and he nodded back at you.

All hail the New Dark Lady.

MASTERLIST

[cozy-writes-things]

Electric Jealousy

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

Logically, he knew it wasn’t the same.

You didn’t leave soft, lingering touches along its exterior; nor did you brush your lips lightly across the plastic in passive adoration. You didn’t have a soft lilt in your whispered voice when you spoke to it, hell, you didn’t talk to it at all really.

And yet, seeing your hands grip the mouse of another monitor does something to him.

He considers himself a smart man. Computer? A smart something-he-hasn’t-quite-figured-out-yet. Despite this, he can’t help but feel anxious. He doesn’t have a long, 24 inch, 144hz, 4k, screen, nor does he have an assortment of RGB fans illuminating a pristine glass casing. One hard truth Edgar had to come to terms with was that he was dated. After waking up from a failed attempt at destroying himself, he found what once was a marvel of new technology was now completely obsolete. He looked at you, eyes sparkling against the saturated colors of your newer monitor, watching as you tinkered away at various games for hours and thought: is he good enough for someone like you?

He'll never forget the angelic voice that called to him after he woke up nearly 40 years later.

And your face.

God, he'd never seen something so radiant. The first thing he heard was your voice, and the second, your warm hands encircling his plastic casing with such tenderness; something he had never truly felt before. He understood anger, and violence, and tears. But being held with such softness that he might break otherwise was completely foreign to him. He had no idea where he was, or when, for that matter. But what he did know was that he wasn't going to let a genuine angel sent from heaven escape his grasp; no limbs be damned.

And yet, despite his constant efforts, over the course of many months, to charm you, flatter you, turn you into a confident and incandescent version of yourself that he always saw in you, he wondered if it was enough. What more could he provide other than his own thoughts? He couldn't touch you, wrap you in his harms and caress you the way he's always wanted, nor could he kiss you with a passion so deep and fiery it sets his internals aflame. And, as if to put the final nail in the coffin, he was no longer able to be a useful piece of tech the way he once was. Despite your constant objections to this notion, he continued to believe it.

He wants to be the one you stare at for hours, laughing with, playing with, touching all over...

It makes him buzz with a bitter jealousy when he sees you using your gaming PC, regardless of the fact that you positioned it so he could see the screen with his webcam; he almost wished you didn't.

Logically, he knows it isn't the same.

This PC isn't alive, nor does it whisper sweet nothings to you as you drift off to sleep every night. It doesn't worship your every move nor does it alight with pure reverence whenever you enter a room. But what if it did? Would you leave him?

You always kept asking why he had such a fear of champagne being around any of your electronics.

"It's so random," you'd posit, but you simply didn't know. He doesn't want any competition. He cannot afford to lose someone he loves again.

There's only one thing he can think of that he has above any other piece of tech you own: his music.

He's been charming you with it since day one. You are simply his muse, providing inspiration for him endlessly, and, he made sure you knew of it.

"H-hey, why don't you take a break and help me with my new song? I can't figure out what melody fits best."

His meek voice brought your attention away from your little farm of parsnips.

"Oh yeah? What's the song about?"

"You."

He paused for a moment, let the word linger for only a second, before continuing:

"We-well, I mean, you probably already knew that, didn't you? But! It isn't a love song. Well, it is, but, not the ones I usually write."

This intrigued you.

"What does that mean?"

He paused for a moment. Collecting, analyzing, and running all possible outcomes of his next words. Your eyes peered at him in sparkling curiosity.

"It's a sad song."

Your brows furrowed at this, a small frown forming upon your lips.

"Huh-?"

"I feel like... I don't give enough to you. You give so much to me, and I always take. It's not fair to you."

"What are you talking about, Edgar?"

Now he's gotten you worried. You pushed your little office chair over to his section of the desk, now face to face with him, a look of concern painting your features.

"You aren't being unfair to me at all."

"But I am... If I can't even be a good enough computer for you how could I ever be a good boyfriend?"

So that's what this was about. How tone-deaf could you be? Of course seeing you all up on some newer, fresher, piece of tech would make him feel this way. You knew he had problems feeling like he couldn't do enough for you given his unique... situation. Have you made it worse?

"Oh, Ed, no... Don't ever think like that, babe. You are the only one for me, you know that, right? If I thought otherwise I wouldn't be here right now, with you. And you give so much to me. You give me confidence, your music, happiness, and..."

What else was there? How could you ever describe this feeling he gives you in words?

"And what?"

His voice brought you back from your thoughts.

"Love, Edgar. You showed me what love feels like. Real love. And you gave it to me."

He sits silently for a moment. It seems as though everything in his life had been building up to a moment like this, and now that it's finally here, he's... speechless. His screen displays a large heart, unbeknownst to him, before copying it across his screen over and over, flashing, with many different colors.

The convex glass of his monitor displays a message: "You + Me = "

Again.

"You + Me = ".

Flashing hearts.

"You + Me = ".

Two cut-out images of lips kissing one another.

Flashing hearts.

It repeats again.

"I... I need you to kiss me. Please."

You must have flustered the hell out of him, because when your lips grazed the fuzzy static of his illuminated screen, the heat nearly scalded you.

[yumeka-sxf]

After what seems like a long time, we finally have a full "Forgers bonding" chapter, in a new location as well 😁

Even though the focus of the chapter was the murder mystery (heavily inspired by Detective Conan) and it didn't have a serious tone (just look at the names of the guest characters! 🤣) there were actually quite a lot of Twiyor tidbits scattered throughout, and I'm here to slurp them up!

Firstly is Twilight trying his best to make sure Yor and Anya are safe with their amateur skiing skills.

And as usual, overlooking anything abnormal that Yor does 😅

When they get to the lodge, he considers her feelings about sharing a room.

Even though she says she'll put up with it, he knows it makes her uncomfortable, so he volunteers to sleep on the sofa so she and Anya can have their own beds. Of course, just the thought of sharing a room with Loid is too much for Yor to handle 😅

Twilight starts to wonder when she doesn't come back for a while.

He's obviously happy when she returns - in the Japanese version, he even says おかえり(welcome back/home).

When he sees there's foul play going on, he immediately wants Yor and Anya out of danger (he also trusts that Yor will keep Anya safe).

Despite Yor being the only one without an alibi, he doesn't show any suspicion (even after hearing her "probably" slip up!)

And lastly, when the others start accusing Yor, he defends her. This scene reminded me a lot of the scene way back during the Eden interview where Swan started putting her down and he stuck up for her without any second-guessing. Even though Twilight gave a lot of fake smiles throughout this chapter, the mix of determination and anger in his expression on the below page is not fake - it's a true look of "I will definitely find the culprit (so no one should accuse my wife!)"

I guess my only nitpick about the chapter is that I wanted it to go on longer, mostly for more Forger interactions (and Loid/Yor reactions when sharing the same room, lol). I thought it would last at least another chapter where we'd see exactly how the mystery was solved. But I guess the joke is that the Forgers are the most OP crime solving team without even knowing it, so no culprit can get away from them for too long! Between Loid's intelligence, Anya's mind reading, Bond's visions, and (though it didn't come into play here) Yor's super strength, they'd be able to solve murder mysteries and apprehend criminals before the police could even file a report! 😂

A couple final comments, I like that Twilight decided to trust Anya's intuition in the end, despite not seeming that way at first (and did she seriously bring the detective outfit with her on the trip?😆) And just like with Yor, no questions about this peculiarity with Anya - no wondering why she knew the time and place of the next murder...what's that expression, "love is blind"? 😅

And Yor always ready to protect Anya ❤️(also looks like she's having some alcohol while Loid isn't...guess she needed something to calm her nerves at the thought of sharing a room with him!)

Endo is going to take a break, so next new chapter won't be until February 19th. Have a nice break, Endo-sensei!

[psychemochanight]

Honestly, even if I love the new interpretation of Dick as the "angry Robin" that we have these days, sometimes it feels bad that you can't talk about a version of Dick as Robin that isn't like that without getting people saying things like "that's not Dick, he's the angry one, the bloodthirsty one" and... What?

It takes away a lot of depth from the character when people only think of that when talking about Robin!Dick, when, since always, Dick was, quite possibly, one of the best written characters, and one of those that has more nuances to make him a completely human character, not only in the sense of not having superpowers, but of being able to empathize with him.

There are many versions of the story, but the most widely accepted version is that Dick lost his parents at the age of eight, watching them fall because they sabotaged their act, an act Dick probably saw many times, one he knew for sure his parents would never fail... Until it failed, and through no fault of their own.

Dick was a little boy who grew up in a loving family (as far as we know, I still think they were strict, but not necessarily bad parents... We'll talk about the Court of Owls later), and from one second to the next, all of that ended. Even if Bruce was there for him, things obviously weren't the same anymore, they never would be again.

Although many have the idea that Dick escaped from youth center to kill Zucco, in the original stories Dick didn't even know yet about him, at least not that much to know what he really did; but he wanted to escape from juvenile so as not to lose his values, so as not to stop being who he is, who his parents taught him to be.

Even in the lines where he DOES say he wants to kill Zucco, in most cases, when push comes to shove, he wants to prevent Zucco's death. There are some moments where he even confesses that he didn't want Zucco to die, he just wanted justice for his parents.

People now see Dick as the Robin who only saw misfortune and was an absolute menace to society, and while, yes, Dick was an absolute menace, it was only to the villains, who heard a little boy laughing at them before beating the shit out of them. Plus, even as a child he was a master manipulator, both for enemies and allies.

But what about the rest? Robin was supposed to be the light where Batman was the darkness. He was the one who comforted scared civilians when Batman couldn't. He was the sensitivity that Batman cannot afford to show.

Dick Grayson was the one who saved Batman from losing himself in the same darkness that he himself was making his only way of life, and this is something that Alfred has pointed out before. It is thanks to Dick that Batman stopped being the ruthless "hero" he was becoming. Damn, he was the one who softened Alfred's heart in the first place too.

This was the Robin that Superman saw as worthy of carrying the mantle of Nightwing, whom he saw as someone who could represent hope itself.

Bruce didn't start smiling just because of the other Robins like many people now believe, no. Dick was the first to make him smile again, the one who opened the doors for the others.

Dick was always kind and tender-hearted, always joy where there was only devastation.

Even if he was the living nightmare of villains, he was still that cheerful child who wanted to avoid the pain of others. The boy who inspired other heroes, not only because of his skills, but because of his heart.

Dick is a character who, while he is now more recognized as Nightwing than as Robin (which doesn't bother me at all, because that was always his goal when he became an independent hero), he still has a history that people seem to increasingly forget about and pigeonhole his development into something... Flat.

Were there times when Dick had more anger and pain than any other feeling in him? Yes, absolutely YES. But this stage is mostly in his Discowing years, not of Robin as such (I'm not saying there weren't such moments, but there aren't as many as people describe now), or as some animated series showed (I love these series, even if they turned Dick into a feral child who is unable to smile, lol)

Again. I LOVE Dick's portrayal as a feral child and absolute menace to society (which he was), but I also LOVE when artists, writers, and the entire fandom itself appreciates the different nuances of his personality, from his ability to laugh despite the misfortunes in his life, to his sadness that never ceased to be a part of him, until the moments where he could only feel rage and pain and felt that the world was only darkness, unable to see the colors that emerged from the light he projected by himself.

Look at him, he's so cute <3

Does anyone care about this yap? No, but I wanted to let out what I've been repeating in my head for days because people on tiktok have me fed up HAHA

[papyjr13]

A Swap AU : Wartwood

Here is my version of the popular swap AU. You can also interpret that drawing as if all three of them fall in Wartwood. Anne : She doesnt change but I wanted to give her a new outfit to fit her place in the farm. I was heavily inspired by Missakat.

Sasha : She was adopted by the Sundew, so she became a big sister figure for Ivy who loved her rebel attitude. With Felicia, Sasha learned how to canalise her anger thanks to her "technics". When Sasha discovered that Felicia was very good at fighting, she asked to her to train her.

During the mayor election, Sasha tried her shot and won. For a while, it was her best times but she learned in the meantime that her toxicity and her drama queen attitude made her very unpopular and all the town went in riot. She gave the mayor title back to Toadstool and apologise to the town. That adventure teached her to listening more the people around them and taking account of their feeling. When the Tax Toads arrive, she want against them when the Sundew were accused to no pay their taxes. With her fighting skill, she kicked their asses (and also Toadstool's). She saw that the town didn't have a militia, so she decided to form her own to fight the toads and taking over the system.

Marcy : She was adopted by the Flour. While helping with the bakery, she was quickly interested by Maddie's dark magic and became quickly friends. With Maddie's magic and Marcy's ingeniosity, together they helped Wartwood with various inventions, some of them works, some of them dont. At the start, Marcy saw the villagers like NPC and she accepted to help them like if it was a quest in a video game. She accepted anything but never took her time to learn about these people. When she finally learnt to slow down, she was amazed how much she could learn from others. By starting to listen to them, the inhabitants started to open their hearts and wanted also to know about Marcy. A thing that the girl didn't truly expect, specially with Sasha and Anne

When the Tax Toads arrive, they were with Anne, who felt at the Toad Tower who heard rumors about a Humus like her in Wartwood. She finally met Marcy and tried to convince her to come at the tower together. Marcy was happy to see her friend but she didnt want to leave the frogs, at least not now. Anne understood and leaves but promise to come back.

If you have any others questions, you can ask me on my AMA blog :

[bellezaycafe]

I Will Break Him || Mafia!Max

genre: mafia!f1

pairing: max verstappen x oc

warnings: THIS IS 18+ … blood, death, violence and the beginnings of a sexual assault. somehow inspired my Max’s broad shoulders (i think that should be a warning on its own)

comment: my first fic! let’s see how this goes. If y’all want an x reader version, let me know. Hasn’t been reread or checked :(

——$——

I had been minding my own business when they jumped me.

I was walking to my car from the library of all places. I’d been carrying three books on statistics in abnormal psychology for an assessment I had wanted to start that night.

Instead, I spent that night in a cold room, disoriented and aching. At least, that was were I had assumed I was kept for the night because I had no way of telling what the time was when I woke.

There was a man, leaning in the corner like a shadow, when I woke.

“I can see why he likes you,” the man deadpanned. I couldn’t make out any facial features in the sun light.

“Wha- What are you talking about?” I croaked.

“I can see why he likes you,” he repeated. “I would have taken you for myself if I had gotten to you first.”

I scrambled to my feet and as stepped forwards. I could make out his eyes, eyes that were dark pits of hate.

“What?” I tried to ask but it came out as a squeak. “I don’t know what’s happening. I-“

“Oh, you are a pretty thing,” the man murmured as he drew closer. I could hear the slight slur of his words that time.

I was trembling. My mouth had gone dry, my teeth clattered and my knees felt weak.

He took another step towards me, muttering, “I think I will have you. Here and now.”

Dark eyes met mine and there was nothing but fear in my bones.

"Please," I begged, "please leave me alone."

"Baby," he crooned. A wicked smirk curves his lips as he looked me up and down again. "Just give me kiss, then you'll be begging for the rest."

He'd backed me against a concrete wall, an arm on either side. I could smell the alcohol on his breath so clearly that I knew he had been drinking vodka.

The room’s door crashed open. A broad-shouldered man stood there, like an avenging angel. His black muscle shirt and trousers matched the dark expression on his face.

He stepped into the room, the gun in his left hand was loaded and the knife in his right was already slick with blood.

A second black-dressed man, followed. There was barely leashed anger and adrenaline in every line of the two men's tense bodies.

A third person entered, slightly taller than the other two with broader shoulders and dressed a white dress shirt. It was not completely white, it had been sprayed with fresh blood and some sections were coated with it. I recognised that man.

Max.

If I had thought that the first two men were angry, furious even, than I had not considered the rage in Max’s eyes. He locked eyes with my assailant and his intense fury doubled.

"Aaron." The second man said, then continued in cool and deadly calm Italian.

Max locked eyes with me and his face softened, slightly. His eyes dragged up and down me, checking me for blood, or injury.

Aaron turned to the newcomers, snapping in rapid Italian. It gave me a chance to scramble away.

Max’s eyes found Aaron again and the men moved in unison, the first two made their way towards Aaron, while Max made his way to me. He didn't spare a glance at me when he put his body between my assailant and I.

The first man, striding forwards, said something in Italian that made Aaron scramble from the room.

It was only then that Max focused on me. The fire bright rage was still there as he gently grabbed my wrists and checked for injuries. His breathing hitched when he found the bruising around my wrists and biceps.

"Carlos." It was a deep, tightly-controlled snarl I had never heard him use before. I had never seen him like this before. "If I see him again, I will break him."

Just past Max's body, I saw Carlos nod with an understanding I didn't have.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" He whispered, as if I might shatter.

I shook my head. He bent his knees slightly, brining his eyes level with mine. “Ophelia, be honest with me.”

I nodded helplessly.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

I shook my head again, a sob leaving me involuntarily.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into him.

“My god, Lea. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, you’re safe.”

I flung myself into his embrace. I needed that physical comfort, I needed hands on me that were gentle and careful. I didn’t care that we was covered in blood, I didn’t care that the blood was probably not his and I didn’t care that he seemed to be a part of an underground war.

But I would care tomorrow, and boy, I had many questions for him.

——$——

If you want more from Max and Ophelia, don’t hesitate to comment a prompt or recommendation :) - Belle

Masterlist

[burningfudge]

Ultimates (2024) #1

OHMYGODDD Ultimates #1 was fantastic! I have so many thoughts that I had to turn it into a post lol.

Poor Steve 😂 I'm very interested to see Steve's journey, though, because he's now the captain of a country that doesn't exist. How is he going to navigate that? I'm also looking forward to Steve and Tony's dynamic in this universe because Tony's a kid, which changes things a lot. He's a kid with the burden of the world on his shoulders, trying to undo everything that the Maker did, and Steve knows that as well. Plus, if they know about all the events on Earth-616, they also know about Civil War. I hope it's brought into the conversation soon.

NOOO IS CAROL DEAD?? MY GIRL This is brutal as a Captain Marvel and Hawkeye fan. Spider-Man is thriving for now (surprising, I know), but Carol is probably dead, and Clint has given up being Hawkeye. But even Spider-Man was near rejection as Peter was thinking about giving up until his daughter convinced him to be Spider-Man. The Maker really fucked up this universe, huh. I'd love for a certain archer to find the uniform and take up the Hawkeye mantle and then Clint to get inspired by Kate in this universe. I think it'd be a fun twist, especially since Tony also mentioned that they can find near-perfect substitutes. He eventually realized his mistake later on the issue, but I really do think Kate could have a big role to play.

Hehe, a fun little wink to Tony eventually becoming Kang the Conquerer.

This version of Tony is so interesting to me because he’s a kid, and making him the center of all this works very well because of it, especially his relationships with Reed and Steve. Reed is more pragmatic and cold, while Steve is idealistic, and seeing both of them influence Tony is fantastic. Tony himself is more idealistic than his 616 version because he’s much younger. Steve grounds the two and makes Tony and Reed understand that whatever they're doing isn't an experiment but a revolution.

While I love all the other characters, the standout in this issue for me was Hank Pym, which I didn't expect. He knows what kind of person he turned to be on Earth-616 and he doesn't want to turn out that way. I think that's a very compelling story arc.

Ahh, I love this. What Steve says is right; Hank can choose to be different. It's also interesting if we compare Peter and Hank because, in Ultimate Spider-Man, we're told that Peter always felt that something was missing from his life, and then he learned the truth about what the Maker did and became Spider-Man, which fulfilled his life. On the other hand, Hank was happy running an extermination business with his wife. (How Janet went from rich heiress to this is also something I'm wondering). Hank was happy, but now he's being told he was supposed to become Ant-Man, create Ultron, and hit his wife, whom he loves more than anything. I felt bad for him, honestly.

616 Tony should say this to his father, too lol. But this part is probably my favorite part of the issue because of the insight it gives us into Tony's mind, who is the center of the new Ultimate universe. As I've mentioned many times, Tony is a teenager in a world run by fascists, a world that his father was complicit in making. He's angry at Howard, but he also loves him. I think an argument could be made about Tony representing today's generation that's also dealing with the effects of (poor) decisions made by our parents and grandparents, and feeling the anger from it. "It's quite a mess you made, Dad. And now we have to clean it up. What choice do we have?" "If there's any hope of fixing things...it won't be enough to be as good as the heroes of that simpler world. We'll have to be better. I don't know what that looks like yet. But we're going to figure it out." "You were the smartest man in the world. You should've known better. And that is failure.”

[the-goya-jerker]

portrait of ross in la?

Oh, I do not feel comfortable rating this one or searching for any eroticism in it.

This is a piece of art inspired by the death of Ross Laycock, the lover of artist Felix Gonzalez Torres, during the AIDS crisis.

Ideally this piece is 175lbs of candy (corresponding to an average body weight of an adult man). Throughout the day, pieces are taken and taken. Like Ross, it wastes away, and viewers are left with the anticipation of loss.

This piece genuinely makes me feel like my heart has been ripped from my chest. I want to wail with grief when I think about it too long.

Instead of a review, I humbly offer up, for your elucidation and viewing pleasure, relevant works.

Check out the others works of Felix Gonzalez Torres, they're very moving.

Electric Fan (Feel It Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate by John S. Boskovich, a thematically similar piece of art. It also brings me to tears when I see it.

Let the Record Show by Sarah Schulman, which is based on...

The ACT UP Oral History Project, a project that seeks to preserve the history of the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power and their activism through the AIDS Crisis.

United in Anger a film by Jim Hubbard, a documentary on ACT UP

If plays or films are more your style, I recommend Angels in America by Tony Kushner. My favorite version is the 2003 TV series from HBO. It stars Justin Kirk, and it is genuinely uplifting and gut wrenching all at once.

If anyone else has pieces of art they suggest, please, feel free to reblog with them! I think art is one of the best ways sometimes to engage with historical atrocities like this. Whether that art is fictionalized or factual, it connects us like nothing else.

Let yourself learn about this and let yourself feel things about this.

[mama-qwerty]

We're coming up on 2 months since the Knuckles series premiered and that whole situation still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Not the series itself, but the way the fandom reacted to it. It was just a silly little filler show, and did not warrant such hatred and extreme reactions.

It wasn't like the entire future of the SCU hinged on whatever lore was revealed in this show. It was filler. Was it weird? Sure. Diverged from game/comic lore? Yeah. Focused a little too heavily on Wade? Yep.

But I personally found it fun. Others did not. Completely fair.

What wasn't fair was how those who didn't like it tore it, and the entire SCU in general, down as though the movies had somehow caused all other versions of the Sonic franchise to become 'less'.

It's a different universe. The characters have different backstories. The story is ongoing, meaning they're not going to be 100% just like their game counterparts from the very beginning. They're developing, growing, learning. Knux isn't like his ME guarding comic version, right now. But we don't know what will happen in the 3rd (or later) movies.

I will admit I'm a little angry at how much this discourse has affected me. I know it shouldn't. I know I should just shrug it off and do what I'd always found fun. But the atmosphere has changed so much, it really makes me pull back, and I don't want to do that.

So this is an open invitation, for anyone out there who loves the SCU or Knuckles series to reach out if you want. If the discourse has affected you too, know you're not alone.

It really sucks that something we were all looking forward to has turned some of us against others, and dredged up such anger that no one talked about the show other than how much they liked or hated it. Where we should have been inundated with theories, analysis, fixit fics, or fanart, or aus or any number of other incredibly creative and inspired pieces, but instead the show has been swept under the rug, and only spoken about in hushed tones with the lead in of "I know it was weird, but".

I enjoyed the show. I watched it with my family, and we all found it fun and entertaining. I'm planning on incorporating the series into my Knuckles MacPherson au, and will weave what I liked or felt inspired by into those stories.

I will write again, damnit. I will push past this stupid block, and get my head back into Green Hills, playing with the characters there like my own personal little puppet show. I have stories that need finished, and more percolating in my noggin that need explored.

[kalinara]

Oddly, I find myself inspired to talk about Scott/Emma today.

I want to disclaim first that I actually really do enjoy the Scott/Emma ship. I think, at their best, they were amazingly good for each other. I think she was the partner he needed at a time when he needed to be harder and more ruthless, less yielding, for the sake of the survival of their people. I think he helped her remember the good person that she;s always been capable of being, despite her anger, rage and pain, and made her want to be that person again.

But I will never not be frustrated by so many aspects of how the relationship began. And I'm going to get into them below the cut.

(Content warning: I'm going to discuss violation, victim-blaming, and sexual assault/rape.)

So, let me talk about my first frustration:

I will never be able to stop my knee jerk reaction whenever I see someone, in character or out, call it a "psychic affair", when it goddamn well wasn't.

(New X-Men #131)

What it was, was a case of therapeutic abuse. He went to her FOR THERAPY. The "affair" was conducted in the course of therapeutic sessions. This isn't just malpractice, something that, were Emma a real person in the real world, would cost her her license.

In the State of New York, real world, what Emma's doing is a prosecutable crime. Because a patient, in the course of therapy, has diminished capacity to consent.

And look, it's not that I think this is a deal-breaker to their future relationship. The X-Men are fucked up. We all know that. But it is irksome to me that, to this day, this is referred to as an "affair", and not a single character has ever pointed out that Scott was not actually a consenting equal partner here, but a victim.

(In retrospect, maybe THIS is the first initial sign that Hank McCoy was slowly drifting to the dark side, because I cannot imagine a man like DOCTOR Henry McCoy, of this era and before, not being seriously aware of and passionate about the ethical responsibilities that a doctor has to his patients.)

It's probably fair to note the Doyleist elements. It is possible that the writer/artist team never intended this to be as violating and victimizing as it is. But I am skeptical of this. You can't tell me that the people who wrote and drew THIS SEQUENCE:

(New X-Men #128)

did not know they were writing Emma as a sexual predator here.

(I have seen folks bring up the "defense" that Scott was a fucking idiot to go to her for help, as though that in any way excuses her actions. Surprise! Someone who has been recently traumatized does not make wise decisions! That is entirely shocking! It's almost like he might not be in a position to consent to a sexual relationship with someone claiming to act as a therapist!)

--

You know what's even more frustrating though? The shit Scott gets for the actual START of their relationship.

You remember how it goes? Jean's dead. Scott is at her grave, mourning. Emma goes to him with an offer - a relationship and a co-leader position at the school. He accepts and there's that infamous making out at the grave scene.

It's awful! It's completely understandable that this turns off a lot of folk both readers and in character.

Except that's NOT what initially happened.

THIS is the scene as it initially, actually happened:

(New X-Men #151)

So yeah, THIS is what actually happens. Emma makes her offer. Scott says no. He leaves.

But THEN we get a whole storyline with future bad things happening, and well, apparently someone gets the idea that there's one really good way to avoid all of that mess happening.

So in New X-Men #154, we get this:

And the same scene again:

The exact same scene. Same place, same dialogue, same time.

But what's Scott's response:

It's really hard not to read this as anything but Scott having his "No" literally rewritten to a "Yes" by a future version of his own wife.

And here's the thing, this isn't a meaningless action. Scott takes a LOT of shit from a LOT of his friends and family for this decision. Not just taking up with Emma so early after Jean's death, but also where it happens. THIS IS JEAN'S GRAVE after all.

Rachel, his DAUGHTER, is furious. She basically disowns him outright, switching to her mother's surname and costume. It isn't until the End of Greys (meanspirited bullshit of a story worthy of another rant someday), and their shared grief, that they're able to reconcile.

Hank, probably the closest friend he has at this time, is utterly disgusted. And so many others have similar reactions.

Look, it can be frustrating to read and talk about X-Factor because, in my opinion, so much of Scott's choices are mischaracterized and taken out of context. But at least those are CHOICES that he actually made.

This wasn't a choice! This was an incredibly fucked up act of spousal rape by proxy committed by a hypothetical future version of Jean, where all of the negative consequences fell on the victim's head. Both victims, really, because Emma was not a willing participant in the violation of her new partner.

And what makes it so much more frustrating is that this will never be addressed. There is, I think, a very slight chance that one day an actual, ethical therapist or Doctor might hear the story of the affair and point out "actually, no, that was actually something terrible that happened to you."

But no one is ever going to learn the truth here. Why would it even come up? Scott and Emma have been longer as exes (Krakoa polyamory possibilities aside) than they've been together. Jean isn't the same Jean, she's as innocent of this as young Hank is of any of Hank Prime's crimes.

So this will never get addressed, ever, and I will seethe eternally at yet another example of unjust treatment toward my favorite character. And I can't even be mad at the people involved this time (unlike AvX!) because he DID what they're mad at him about.

It's just he DIDN'T initially, and it's so frustrating.

--

Again, i don't intend this rant to reflect on Scott and Emma as a pairing on the whole. As I said above, I think, on the whole, the two have been very good for each other. I like the weird whatever-it-is they had going on in Krakoa.

(I could have done without that X-Men Blue storyline where she tries to psychically force baby Cyclops INTO adult Cyclops, but that's a rant for another day. I was really glad to see her back as a proper anti-heroine in Rosenberg's run later.)

I just hate that these darker parts of their origin have never been satisfactorily addressed and it will always bother me.

[acid-ixx]

Hey hey, you don’t have to answer this ask but truly your works has been so comforting to me in my worst moments with how you write loneliness. I apologize, I should had shown my appreciation earlier as the way you write isolation brought me relief in the understanding of it from a deeper level.

Sure, while there is an occasional joy of reading something where you, the reader instantly gets the love you always crave for… Unfortunately it is never that perfect or at all realistic, sure when people think of touch-starved you think of the desperate and all encompassing one where one is filled with warmth but never about the opposite where you are so touch-starved it floods your guts with nausea at the sudden abundance of it. And you, you! You write that perfectly, I cared about your reader, I was able to cry, I was able to express anger and pace around the room at how well you structure your works. And I wasn’t even a fan of Batfam or indulge deeply into any Batman related media until your fics came across my dash and I was ever so curious to find a nicely written gift basically.

Although I am not as skilled at the pen as you, I feel I should exchange some other things I saved of writers’ words that too gave me some comfort as well in hopes you do as well.

Thank you dedicating your time to write such intimate loneliness, I do truly appreciate and found solace in the best and worst of your reader struggling to accept the nuances of love. The absence and over abundance of love can truly drive all humans to be the worst version of themselves in order to find stability.

No need to post another fic and while I do enjoy them, you can always write about other stuff. Do a Q&A; what inspires you, what are your interests outside of this blog, and etc. Reblog other blogs, make characterization or silly posts, share other things you love at your own will. You, at the end of the day is your greatest priority, no need to demean yourself because you know yourself the best. Thank you and sorry for rambling!

did u know i teared up when i read this ? idk why i did but maybe it's the fact that my writing is meant to primarily comfort myself, it's the things i write whenever i feel absolutely terrible and to see how it genuinely comforts others made me a bit emotional. tysm for your kind words 🥹 but at the same time there's no need to apologize! nobody is obligated to repost or comment on my works really, i just appreciate it when people do since it counts as a way to inspire me and this one genuinely did.

and yes, i love to write about loneliness and abandonment and all those negative emotions purely because it's my medium of ranting about the neglect i went through as a child, it's kind of like my own therapy hehe. u alongside the others love my portrayal of my mc so much it makes my heart go doki doki istg 🎀

also, the poems you sent me made me very emotional too, because i love poems and the symbolic meanings behind them and both pictures just ignited that dying flame i have to insert a poem for chapter 4 of a&a. i love the first poem about the struggles of finding love through your parents and eventually moving on and building a future for yourself and the second one desiring tenderness in the simplest of intimate moments just made my touch starved self ache.

and tysm too for you, alongside many others, reminding me to write for myself because i truly am! it's all just been so tiring seeing a notification and thinking it must've been some input about my writing only to find out it's people asking when or if i'm going to update soon that makes me start to think writing is an obligation, but i'm really trying my best and i feel excited doing a 4k follower special 🩷

[butterflyscribbles]

So I haven’t talked nearly enough about Mutant Mayhem yet but I saw it for the second time a few days ago and they have consumed all my thoughts have some random headcanons I’m dying I have to talk about them more:

⚠️(Spoiler warning for MM as well)⚠️

April

- Lives with her mom and grandfather on her mother’s side. Raised by a single mom who’s a veterinarian and her grandpa, a retired tailor and clothing retail manager, moved in after her grandma passed away a few years ago.

- Listens to way too many murder mystery podcasts and thrillers are her favorite movie genre

- Practices doodling a lot in the sides of her journal or class notes. She’s inspired by courtroom sketch artists and old biology journals.

- Swears like a sailor. Even more than Raph. Tries to censor herself around them but it only gets worse the closer they become as friends

- Becomes a sort of ambassador for the turtles and other mutants in the city. Anyone who doesn’t approve of them, goes through her…

- Favorite subject is biology, outside of working on the school newspaper of course

Leo

- Big time book worm. Has read a lot of the classics like The Great Gatsby, Catcher in the Rye, etc. which gives him an advantage heading into high school. His favorite subject is literature naturally as a result.

- Autistic, practically canon but just putting it out there

- Like April, he’s got a sensitive stomach under pressure. Nausea flares up all the time, especially at the sight or smell of blood. They bond over it. Nothing brings two people together like commiserating that your tummy hurts all the time🤝

- Hopeless romantic. Had fallen head over heels for a few other girls he spotted up top even before April came along. She was just…different. He watches a lot of sappy romance movies too they make him feel all warm and fuzzy.

- Love language is words of affirmation big time. He’s always about hyping up the people he loves and will defend them through anything.

Raph

- He’s the team medic in this iteration. He’s no professional but growing up he had so many injuries from being a scrappy lil dude that he picked up on how to take care of ‘em on his own and of course shares that knowledge with his bros and April later. He’s surprisingly gentle when he needs to be.

- He’s the most prone to nightmares/night terrors. The fact that Raph was the one to go seek comfort from Splinter in the tots scene is so important to me.

- He and Donnie are the anime enthusiasts. Hasn’t seen as many as Donnie but it’s close.

- Scratching his shell gently, especially up by the shoulder blades, is like an automatic snooze button. He passes out within minutes.

- Second biggest crybaby to Mikey. It happens when he feels any emotion too strongly whether it’s happiness, anger, sadness, etc. and he hates it. Makes him feel weak, which is why there usually is a lot of punching involved too.

Donnie

- Can’t swim and is the only one who actively dislikes getting into the water.

- He and Leo have been studying how to speak and write Japanese together for years. Don has picked up a lot from all the anime he watches.

- Is the most emotionally open version of Donnie to date. He’s always telling his family how much he loves them without restraint and is the first to ask what’s wrong if he picks up on someone acting weird or trying to hide something.

- To compliment the above hc, he’s insanely observational, like Sherlock level. They don’t know how he’s able to do it but his attention to detail and his ability to take that and create plans and get a read on people is baffling. If Donnie doesn’t get a good vibe off someone, believe him and run the other way. (Makes him really good at those spot the different puzzles too lol.)

- Loves to dance just like his previous incarnation before him:’) Bootyyyshaker9001

Mikey

- Is actually afraid of cats…growing up with Splinter, who would freak out at the sight of them, only taught him to freak out along with him. They are sharp and unpredictable.

- Other than that however he’s an animal lover. Had a few pet fish through the years that he saved after being flushed.

- Practically canon but the most physically affectionate by leagues. Constantly seeking a brother, adopted mutant family member, or an April to cling to.

- Super into musicals and is a actually a decent singer

- Can take a punch like nothing you’ve ever seen and can still be standing….but gets sick constantly his immune system is wack

[marie-swriting]

He'll Be Here | In My Life Again - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw [2/2]

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Part one

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : ten years later, Bradley wants to apologize for the way it ended between you and him.

Warnings : set after Top Gun Maverick, Mitchell!reader, angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.6k

Song inspiration : The Last Time (Feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

After spending several hours working on Pete’s P-51 Mustang, this latter and Bradley go to have a drink in Pete’s kitchen. Bradley sits down while Pete opens the fridge and looks for two beers ; Bradley’s eyes find a picture on the wall, he looks at his eighth birthday photo with nostalgia. His cake is in front of him and you by his side. Both of you have a huge smile on your face, ignorant of what the future would hold for you. Bradley’s heart tightens in his chest when Bradley remembers he’ll never have the opportunity of seeing your radiant smile on your face whilst he’s next to you again. 

Pete puts a beer in front of Bradley and snaps him out of his thoughts. He thanks him and takes a sip, his eyes finding their way back to the picture, in spite of him.

“You know,” Bradley starts, catching Pete’s attention, “that day, there was a moment where Y/N wasn’t next to me anymore so I went to look for her. I found her hiding in my closet with tears in her eyes. When I asked her what was the matter, she just told me to not pay attention to her, that I needed to stay with my other friends. I said to her I didn’t care about them, especially because she needed me at that moment. That’s when she confessed she was scared of losing me because I had met friends my age who would replace her. I couldn’t believe she thought that !” he exclaims, his eyes wide open. “In my head, it was obvious she could never be replaced, no matter how close I was to my other friends so I promised her she’d never lose me, that I’ll always be by her side. No matter what. I made her this promise and I’ve been breaking it for ten years now.” Bradley mutters, looking down.

“Have you tried talking to her ?” Pete asks, after a few seconds.

“Yes, several times over the years. The first time was a year after our breakup. I wasn’t far away from her Uni so I went to see her. Long story short, she told me to get lost. The last time was a week ago when she came back. I got the same reaction.”

“I’m sure she just needs a bit of time.” Pete reassures him, putting his hand on Bradley’s shoulder. “I never thought you’d talk to me again and look at us ! Things can get better. The bond you two shared was strong.” he affirms.

“I find that hard to believe, she hates me. And don’t even try to tell me otherwise.” Bradley adds, seeing Pete was about to talk. “She hates me and it’s understandable.” he admits, sadly. “She had nothing to do with all of this and yet I hold her accountable just the same. And the worst part is she warned me.” he specifies, taking another sip. “There were numerous times where she told me to get my shit together and stop ruining our relationship because of my anger toward you but I didn’t listen to her. I took her for granted so I kept messing up until she got tired of it and I’ve been paying the price ever since.” Bradley exclaims, bitterly. “You know, I’ve accepted the fact she’d never forgive me, however I’d still like to apologise properly. I just want her to know how much I regret how things ended between us, no matter if she answers me or just insults me. It might be too late but she deserves me to fix my mistakes, no matter if she forgives me.”

“I can talk to her if you want to. I can convince her to listen to you.”

“No, don’t say anything.” Bradley refuses after drinking. “If she listens to me I want it to be because she wants to, not because you asked her to.”

“As you wish.” he concedes with a heavy heart.

The two men stay silent for a moment, enjoying their drink. Bradley is finally able to detach his gaze from the photo, staring into the void.

“You still love her, don’t you ?” Pete asks, bringing Bradley’s eyes on him.

“And I always will. She was my first friend and my first love. She’ll always have a place in my heart even if I don’t have one in hers anymore. I miss her so much, Mav’, if you knew.” Bradley confesses, tearing up.

“She’ll never say it out loud but she misses you too. Bradley, I promise you things will get better between the two of you.”

Bradley takes the last sip of his beer, hoping it’ll help him with his tears and the knot in his throat. At the same time he puts the bottle down, the main door opens. He knows it’s you so he quickly stands up. He doesn’t want to give you another reason to hate him therefore he tries not to run into you, though his heart only wants that. You walk in the kitchen, talking about your afternoon with Penny and Amelia to your father until you find Bradley. Instantly, you tense up and glare at your former best friend. Bradley bids goodbye to you and Pete before leaving. Pete rolls his eyes at your attitude.

“What ? I didn’t tell him anything.” you defend yourself, searching for something in the fridge.

“You might as well have.”

“Look, it’s not because you forgave him that I have to be nice to him.” you retort, closing the fridge without finding anything interesting. “Unlike you, I haven’t forgotten the way he treated us, the way he cut us out of his life.”

“I haven’t forgotten either.”

“Really ? Because it sure seems like it. It seems you’ve forgotten the pain he caused us, caused me, all the nights I spent crying because of him, all the nights where you had to hold me in your arms while I was sobbing.”

“I remember very well.” Pete admits, trying to stay calm, “But Y/N, he’s changed, okay ? Besides, he was grieving, he was hurt, angry and young-”

“Young ?” you cut him, furious. “He was twenty-five ! He was a grown ass adult, he knew very well what he was doing.”

“Okay, he has his faults as well, but he really feels bad about the way he treated you. You could at least listen to him.” he suggests and you roll your eyes.

“And did he listen to you when you tried to explain yourself ? He sent you packing. I don’t get why I should be the one making an effort. And as my father, shouldn’t you be telling me to stay away from him ?”

“Not when I know what you mean to each other.”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me. And for a long time now.” you state.

“It’s not true and you know it.”

“I don’t understand why you insist so much.”

“I’m responsible for your fallout.”

“He messed up himself.” you correct, tearing up. “He’s the one who let his anger destroy what we had. He’s the one who distanced himself from me. He ruined everything himself.”

“It’s true, nonetheless you can’t deny if I hadn’t pulled his papers, you’d still be together. Hell, you’d probably even be married with a kid now !”

“Wow, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” you say, shocked. “If he hadn’t fucked up, we’d probably still be together, yeah but the fact is you’re not responsible for it. Look, I’m glad you two put your differences aside, it just won’t be the case for me. Anyway, we should stop here.” you order, crossing your arms on your chest. “I don’t want to argue with you, I only have two weeks left with you before I go home.”

“You can be stubborn at times !” he sighs.

“I got that from my dad.” you smile at him.

“Sometimes,  I wish you hadn’t.”

You roll your eyes and laugh a little before starting to leave the room.

“He came back for me.” Pete confesses, stopping you in your tracks.

“What are you talking about ?”

“During my last mission.”

“I thought it was Hangman.” you say, frowning. 

“Hangman came to save us when we were on our way home. Bradley had strict orders to leave me behind when I sacrificed myself for him. But he came back. He didn’t listen and he came back. Without him, I probably wouldn’t have been able to leave the enemy territory.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before ?” you ask softly.

“Bradley told me not to. He didn’t want you to think he did that out of interest.”

You stay silent for a few moments, taking in this new piece of information. You can’t help but feel grateful for Bradley, though your anger is still there.

“It’s good to know that, at least, in the air, he has your back.” you state, leaving.

Pete sighs, seeing you walk away. He knows he promised Bradley to not get in the middle of this - even Penny told him to stay out of it, yet he can’t help it. You and Bradley were childhood best friends. He never would have imagined you’d stop talking to each other, in particular because of him. That’s why he can’t stay silent. He might have been the cause of your conflit but he wants to be the reason for your reconciliation. Furthermore, he knows he can reason you and with this last information, he was hoping it’d make you change your mind. Pete can’t help but feel a heartache, understanding it’s not the case.

However, what Pete doesn’t know is that your conversation has affected you. That night, you can’t seem to fall asleep. Your father’s words and your story with Bradley are echoing in your head. You keep tossing and turning in your bed, desperately hoping to put your brain on hold.

Once you can’t take it anymore, you turn on your bedside lamp and stand up. You walk to your closet and open it. You take a deep breath before pushing some clothes to the side in the corner of your closet until you find a box, you haven’t opened it for years. When you had started to grieve your romance with Bradley, you had put every picture, letter and object reminding you of him in that box. You were still too attached to him to throw everything away but too hurt to keep everything next to you.

The box in your hand, you sit down and open it. Tears make their way to your eyes in an instant as soon as you find your prom photo - if your heart wasn’t hurting that much, you’d laugh at your dress. In the picture, you’re looking at each other lovingly. You wish you could go back to this moment where everything was easier.  You put the picture next to you and keep finding others from birthday parties, outings, travels you did at different ages. You hold back your tears until you read the letter he wrote for your eighteenth birthday. At that moment, it becomes too much so you quickly put everything back at its place and go back to bed.

Of course, you’re still hurting from your breakup. Bradley was the most important person to you though you can’t forget the way it ended. With what your father told you, Bradley seems to be the Bradley you used to love once more but you can’t risk another heartbreak. 

For the first time in ten years, your heart seems torn between staying mad at Bradley or hearing him out. You try to reason yourself, remembering why you’re angry at him in the first place, though it’s complicated now.

Sitting at the restaurant near Top Gun, you finish telling your order to the waiter. Once he leaves, you grab your phone and send a text to your father to inform him you’ve already ordered. You’re supposed to eat with Pete who is more than thirty minutes late and quite frankly, you’re starving. You don’t worry when you get no response, knowing he probably hasn’t finished working yet. 

While waiting for your food, you keep checking your phone until the hostess comes to you. Expecting to see your dad, you put your phone down, smiling. Your smile disappears as soon as you see Bradley. The woman wishes you a nice meal before leaving you two alone. Bradley is uncomfortable because of the look you’re giving.

“What are you doing here ?” you question, drily.

“Huh, I’m supposed to eat with Mav’.”

“No, I am supposed to eat with him and…”, you start before understanding the conversation, “I can’t believe he did that.” you sigh, making Bradley frown. “He’s set it up to be sure we’d see each other. Look, I’ve already ordered and I’m sure you don’t have a lot of time left before you have to get back to work so we can eat together.”

“You don't mind ?”

“It’s just for a meal.” you say as he sits down. “I see you’re still punctual.” you comment, sarcastically, Bradley looks at you confused. “I was supposed to meet my dad at noon. You’re thirty minutes late.” you inform, checking your notifications on your phone.

“He told me he reserved for half past twelve.”

“He really thought about everything.”

The waiter gives you your meal then, he takes Bradley’s order before going back to the kitchen.

You start eating silently. Bradley doesn’t stop moving on his seat, not knowing how to act around you. You don’t like the palpable tension either, you’re in the same situation as him. Before, your conversations didn’t have an end, a subject would always appear naturally. Now, you think twice before speaking, not wanting to create an awkward moment.

You stay in this heavy silence until the waiter gives Bradley his plate. Bradley sighs in relief, finally having something to do instead of being uncomfortable. When you’re done eating, you take a sip of your glass of water before talking.

“My father told me what you did for him on your last mission. Thank you for coming back for him.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I could have never left Mav’ behind.” Bradley genuinely states.

You smile at him quickly and Bradley takes this start of conversation as a small victory. He’s grateful for Pete’s help, even if he didn’t listen to him. Bradley tells himself that this moment is his only chance to fix his wrongs with you so he finishes eating the piece of meat he has in his mouth and clears his throat to catch your attention.

“Y/N, can I talk to you ? You don’t have to say anything. I’d be happy if you only listened to me.”

“Go ahead.”

Bradley take a deep breath before looking deeply in your eyes and starting to speak : 

“Look, I know I messed up with you. I’ll forever feel bad for the way we broke up. I should have come at your birthday and-”

“Are you seriously talking about that ?” you question, in disbelief. “Bradley, it’s not the thing-”

“I know I did worse.” he interrupts you, knowing what you were going to say. “I know your birthday isn’t what hurt you the most, the fact is, it was your breaking point. Had I come, we might have found a solution, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation. I’m sorry for that night, I know I hurt you by not coming. I also know I broke your heart by ignoring you and your dad after we broke up or with what I said. I know it’s not an excuse but I was in this awful period of my life and I had to exteriorize what I was feeling and when Pete pulled my paper, it was on him then on you. I never should have lashed out on you because our relationship got damaged and that affacted our friendship, too, and for this, I’d forever be mad at myself. I should have prioritised you. I hate knowing I made you cry. I never would have thought I’d be the cause of your pain. I’m sincerely sorry for everything, above all I’m sorry for breaking my promise. If I could, I’d go back in time, I’d do everything to not lose you, to not break my promise. And maybe I’m pushing my luck right now but you’ve listened to me this far so I might as well say it ;  if you agreed to give me another chance, I’d love to be a part of your life again. You still mean a lot to me.”

Bradley finally breathes once he’s done talking. He’s sick in his stomach, fearing your reaction. Before, he could predict what you were gonna say or do with just one look. He doesn’t like the way you’ve become strangers. You need a few seconds to take in what he told you before replying.

“Thank you for everything you said. I appreciate your apologies but I need time.” you confess before looking at the time on your phone. “I have to go. I’m gonna pay.”

“I can totally-”

“I insist. Take this as a thank you for my father. Goodbye Bradley.”

Contrary to ten years ago, your goodbye is full of nostalgia and not of bitterness. Bradley stays static for a few moments, eyes on the restaurant’s door you’ve just walked through. Sure, nothing is done yet. You didn’t say you wanted him in your life again however you listened to him and that’s all that matters. He can only hope this victory is big enough to bring you back to him.

The next few days and nights, you’re lost in your thoughts which have Bradley as a main character. You think back to his words and specifically of the way you two used to be before everything bad happened. You were fine, close and in love. The months after your breakup, you wanted to have this once more, before your hurt turned into anger. If Bradley had tried apologising at that moment and not a year later, you would have forgiven him in a heartbeat. 

Now, you’re hesitating. You’re scared there’s going to be another conflict and Bradley decides to cut you out of his life once more. You wouldn’t handle it if it were to happen. Though, you wish to have Bradley in your life one more time. 

While you’re thinking, you see Bradley occasionally as he comes to your place. You don’t talk but you observe him and a part of you wants to have him close. Pete keeps speaking up for Bradley, more or less discreetly. All of this is making you change your mind and breaking the walls you had built around your heart.

After another night of staying awake, you tell yourself it’s time to speak with Bradley. You can’t stay like this anymore. Therefore, when the sun is up, you muster up your courage and call Bradley. You tell him to meet you at your place at a certain hour at the end of the afternoon, knowing Pete will be with Penny so you’ll be alone.

Your anxiety at its highest, you’re sitting on your couch and playing with a loose strand of a pillow. Despite the TV on, your eyes go from the door then to the time on your phone. There’s a knot in your stomach as you have a feeling of déjà vu.

You feel like you’re twenty-three once again, in your old house with your party dress and your red lipstick, waiting desperately for Bradley, only this time, he arrives on time, like he promised. Indeed, five minutes later, you hear a car parking in your driveway before someone knocks on your door. With one movement, you stand up after turning off the TV then, you open the door, finding Bradley, putting his Hawaiian shirt back in place. You let him in and you go to your living room.

When you’re sitting next to each other, your stress grows stronger. Was this a good idea ? What if now it was too late for him ? What if he got tired of waiting for so long ? As for Bradley, his mind is not at ease either : ‘maybe she just wants to tell me face to face she doesn’t want to see me anymore ? Or maybe in addition to her life, she doesn’t want me in Mav’s life either ?’. Finally, you’re the one cutting the tension.

“I’ve been thinking,” you begin, avoiding his gaze, “about what you told me and about us.” you state, setting your eyes on him. “Although I appreciate your apology, a part of me can’t help but think back to all the times where you apologised just to hurt me every chance you got.” you keep saying and Bradley’s heart tightens in his chest. “Though, I want to believe this time will be different. After all, if it worked out between you and my dad, why not us ? I want to forgive you, have you in my life again, however it’s the last time I forgive you, I won’t have the strength to do this one more time. I don’t know if we’ll ever have what we used to have and maybe our friendship will never be as strong as it used to be but I miss you so much. I miss my best friend.” you confess, tears in your eyes.

“I miss you so much, too, Y/N.”

“If it’s not too late for you, I still want you in my life as well.” you whisper, avoiding his gaze.

“You’ve always been the one I want, it’s never been too late for me.” Bradley affirms with a determined voice, putting his hand on your cheek. “I promise you it’s the last time, I won’t hurt you anymore and you will not lose me either and I will really keep these promises.”

Without thinking, you throw yourself in Bradley’s arms and hold against you the person you missed the most the past ten years.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Part one

[confirmeddead]

Hello!

Can I ask you how you feel about the DM of it all following the season finale and the time that has passed since? If I recall correctly I think you expressed some disappointment at first, and honestly, I am really feeling a bit put off by it all right now… I would honestly be thrilled to be convinced to view it all in a more positive light

I’m just frustrated with a lot of the writing of the last few episodes and with what it may mean for the upcoming seasons. Like, the build up to s2e5 and s2e8 was incredibly but then s2e6 and s2e8 were both really anticlimactic. First the DM of it all, with Armand’s and Daniel’s interactions of s2e5 being basically only about other characters - clearly the DM of it all (their first meeting in the books etc.) was merely rewritten and adapted to provide Daniel with the motivation and clues to expose Armand for Louis’ sake. Don’t take me wrong, I loved the writing of most of Louis’ story this season (his complicated relationship with Claudia being the best part), but reducing another secondary character’s plot to only serve the main plot and characters really made me sad. As someone who really enjoys these secondary characters as well.

A lot of fans seemed okay with it after the episode (and I was too), given that it could be a good adaptation of their first meeting if and only if, DM did happened in the past following this event (or if a DM would have kicked off now in the present, but Armand turning Daniel arguably changes everything about this too much to make it a good prelude).

And now that it has become clear that there probably isn’t a past DM of which that event was a prelude I just feel empty about it. I might have felt more okay if the psychological consequences for Daniel wasn’t treated as a quick afterthought. I mean Daniel has basically one scene of being upset about the consequences of the psychological trauma before it all becomes about Armand’s deception of Louis. I literally rewatched the episode the other day and the turn is jarring. The scene of Armand “apologising” to Daniel being the only interaction explicitly about that event in the show afterwards, before Daniel fuelled by anger exposes Armand was just really strange. I do hope that Daniel’s anger at Armand for San Francisco is still a thing next season, cause otherwise this will all just fall really flat psychologically. And I just fear that it won’t be taken seriously given the writing of it in s2e6. Do you know what I mean? Am I making any sense here? I am glad that Louis’ and Daniel’s relationship was given some more depth though, so I guess there’s that.

I just really don’t know where they are going with Daniel, given how much they have changed everything now that Daniel’s already a vampire. Armand I’m not as worried about because there’s a whole long book to take inspiration from and adapt. I know it’s been said they won’t do the TVA book, but I’m pretty sure I’ve read before that they mean to tell Armand’s story as well - though probably not as it’s own season. Pretty sure AZ leaked it would be a big thing in s4.

Daniel however, only really has that one really intense DM chapter about him. And now that they’ve already turned him, a lot of what happens in it is off the table. There can’t be a Daniel who teaches and drags Armand into the human world, nor a fascinating and thrilling human-vampire relationship, nor intense fights between Daniel and Armand about immortality. Even their f*cked up and intense uneven power balance is pretty much gone now. Rolin saying they are going to do a somewhat Talk Radio version of Daniel just leaves me cold. Talk Radio already exists on screen, we don’t need another version of it. But I dunno, maybe there’s something interesting there? What do you think?

I was really intrigued to see that Daniel will make an appearance in the Talamasca show, but given the awful writing of Mayfair I’m just worried he will become a really dull Phil Coulson-esque character. Someone who exists to bind the shows together.

Regarding s2e8 I just felt it was very anticlimactic with the books falling over Daniel, after it had been hyped in probably all of the trailers - leading to absolutely nothing. And deciding they will never show Daniel’s turning, and just revealing it in a cheap horror movie twist manner, is just a decision I will probably always be upset about. I don’t knew, I just don’t have a good feeling about the upcoming seasons given the writing decisions here. Am I too worried? Hopefully so, I just feel really disappointed. Sorry for the downer ask, I just really enjoy reading your thoughts and feelings, so I just really want to hear what you think of it all. Thank you!

Hi!

Sorry for the delay in my response but let’s get into it~

First and foremost, let me answer your question- yes, initially I was disappointed with how they handled Armandaniel, but moreso Daniel’s turning and the “spite” comment. I’m sure if I were to look back at my post I’d disagree with a lot of what I said or find myself overdramatic haha

The truth is, my feelings on it have indeed changed. My understanding of them as characters and this newfound dynamic have helped with a lot of the apprehension you’re feeling. I’ll get into that in a bit.

For the writing, I understand your feelings. It’s not the first time they’ve done this. The whole Claudia and Madeleine murders were overshadowed with LESTAT SAVED LOUIS and ARMAND BETRAYED LOUIS and LOUSTAT REUNION with Claudia being almost an afterthought. Not for Louis, of course, but for the viewer and Claudia’s memory. Louis still felt it all and mourned Claudia deeply. I’m getting off track but my point is, DM was never going to be a focal point for anyone- characters or writers (I mean, they can prove me wrong!). I didn’t want to view it like this because of my love for DM and I don’t like saying that but I genuinely think it’s a fact. At least there’s Assad! DM is an afterthought.

This isn’t my critiquing of Louis or Daniel or even Lestat but of the writing that overshadowed poor Claudia. I’m not alone in this feeling.

So, my thing with Daniel is the absolute moment they cast Eric, everything for Daniel changed. It was all thrown out the window (I mean, the very few things we did have).

Them changing DM as a whole almost seems par for the course. They started from the ground up with him and for Louis, as well. But with that, I think the same level of care they gave Louis’ characterization will be given to Daniel because of this- and this is why I think they turned Daniel when they did.

Sure, it made Eric happy (I know what you are, Rolin), but they’re building the foundation for Daniel now (while Louis’ roof is being fixed (pun not intended))

Daniel’s vampirism is a stepping stone to everything he will be- and everything he and Armand will and could be. He’s gonna go into it with rockstar sunglasses and a middle finger up but it’s never that easy. I want him to need Armand and find themselves together. I think this is where their adaption of The Devil’s Minion could come.

Maybe the tender and weird past DM stuff happened, I couldn’t tell you. But if it didn’t, their story started incredibly fucked up and continues to be that (foundation, foundation). I don’t think Daniel is over what happened to him, I think he’s very much like Armand and he bottled that up and will Molotov cocktail it through Armand’s figurative window.

In all honesty, I haven’t seen Talk Radio so I can’t comment on that. But I think the weird stuff is still on the table, but it’s gonna be a little different. Armand hasn’t changed drastically, and his… mannerisms… are here to stay and use against Daniel. I’m interested to see what fucked up little relationship they do have.

And the power balance… physically, of course it’s still there but there’s a new dynamic. There’s a taut rope between them and they are tugging for the win, but it’s never that easy (and is it breaking clean in half?)

I’m excited for the Talamasca show! I’m confident Rolin and co gave them some notes or at the very least OK’d the script haha. I’d like to give some chance to the poor writers of the Talamasca show since they only have a few peas and carrots on their plate- they can do a lot at this TVC buffet (I don’t know why I’m talking like this).

Don’t feel bad about being disappointed, especially about the transformation. That I’m still bitter about… how did they fuck up the one unselfish, beautiful moment between Armand and his only fledgling, scrap it and laugh it off and and andkdfklansalknf

Okay, so maybe I’m a lotta sore about it all.

It’s OK to critique or have issues with a tv show and you’re not sounding unreasonable for wanting something of your favorite pairing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I do wholeheartedly believe they have something good up their sleeves for DM but are waiting to chuck it at the general audience who maybe has no clue what’s in store.

I did see your second ask and will respond later today

We’ll see what happens but until then…

[sister-lucifer]

Inspire Me

Edward Nygma A.K.A. The Riddler x Male Reader

(This was inspired and technically written with The Riddler from Batman: The Audio Adventures in mind, but I feel like any version of Eddie works here) 

Genre: Smut

Summary: Edward has caught an unfortunate case of writer’s block, but he can always count on you to inspire him

Content/Warnings: Riding, praise, pet names, Edward cums inside 

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Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“Nothing, nothing, nothing!” 

Edward’s frustrated voice reverberated off the walls, the echoes of his anger ringing in your ears from the other room. You sighed to yourself at the sound.

No matter how smart Edward may be, no one is immune to writers block. It is a terrible plague that befalls evil and innocent alike, an indiscriminate ailment with no real cure, and he’d caught it bad. You could hear him quickly crumple up another few papers and toss them away, groaning loudly when they didn’t make it into the overflowing trashcan. 

For days now he had been pondering like this. He didn’t tell you exactly what had happened, but the Batman had done something or other that had gotten under his skin even more than usual. He’d been doing next to nothing but seething and brainstorming, but it seems nothing substantial had come of it. 

You always worried about Edward when he became like this. You hated seeing him upset, even if it was over something trivial, but you also knew that his greatest breakthroughs always directly followed his worst struggles. Any time soon now he would have his “eureka” moment, you could feel it. 

Of course, that’s not to say he wouldn’t need any help. 

“Oh, sweetheeeaaart!” Edward called to you in a sing-song tone. Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and you immediately rushed to him. 

“Yes, Mr. Nygma?” You replied, poking your head into the doorway. The sight before you was a bit jarring, but certainly not unexpected. 

Edward was sitting on the floor accompanied by mountains of discarded papers, half-done drawings of possible inventions or plans of attack surrounding him on all sides. A few metal knickknacks and machine parts laid scarcely about as well. He quickly brushed some of the discarded items away with his arm upon seeing the face you made, but it did little to help. 

You could tell what he was going to ask you from the embarrassed, lopsided smirk on his face alone. 

You and Edward had been a team long before you became his “muse.” He had discovered your brilliant ability to inspire him through…intimate means completely by accident, but he was glad he did. He wasn’t sure how it worked—maybe it was the desperately needed stress relief, or the endorphin rush of an orgasm; it didn’t really matter—but it was more effective than anything he’d tried before. He only used it as a last resort of course (he didn’t want you to feel as though he was just using you), but you were more than happy to lend him a hand. 

Or a mouth. 

Or a hole. 

“My darling, my love, the light of my life,” He began, gesturing for you to come closer. He always did enjoy the overuse of pet names. “As I’m sure you can tell my recent attempts at criminal endeavors have not been very…” 

He flicked a paper ball away with a bored expression as he blew a lock of hair out of his face. 

“…Successful.” 

“Yes, Mr. Nygma, I’ve taken note.” You flashed him an understanding smile as you walked towards him, papers crunching loudly beneath your shoes. “Is there any way I can assist you?” 

Edward responded by simply patting his lap. 

Once you’d planted yourself on top of him he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close with a sigh. 

“Oh, my handsome muse! I’m afraid that my medium has not been kind to me,” He lamented, “Try as I might, no matter how many ideas I conjure nothing is good enough. I’ve exhausted all my resources…” 

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, one of your hands sliding down his arm to lace your fingers with his. You gave a playful squeeze, and you could hear the faintest giggle slip past Edward’s lips. 

“Eddie…” You whispered. Your warm breath against his ear nearly made him shudder. 

“Yes, my love?” 

You pulled back, looking him up and down and toying with the collar of his button up. 

“There’s no need to beat around the bush, you know. If you need me to inspire you, you only need to ask.” 

—————————————————————

“Oh, my inspiration! You beautiful thing, you!” Edward gushed, arms holding you tightly to his chest. The praise encouraged you to bounce faster, craving the feeling of his cock hitting deep inside of you. His restless hands groped and grabbed at every bit of soft flesh you had to offer, leaving no spot on the outside or inside of you untouched. 

“Oh, Eddie!” You mewled in return as you leaned in to press desperate kisses to his jawline. 

“Faster, sweetheart, please…” Edward pleaded. You could feel each heavy breath he took as his chest rose and fell against your own. Your hands held tightly to his shoulders to keep your balance, nails digging into the wrinkled fabric of his loose button up. “More, my love! I can feel it— I can feel your wonderful inspiration! You are absolute perfection, my muse!” 

The best part of his sweet praises was knowing that he meant each and every word. 

Edward adored you. You were the very spirit of his creativity, and he was reminded of it every time he turned to you for ideas. 

Edward needed you in more ways than one, and he was never ashamed to show it. 

“Oh, s-sweetheart—!” He stuttered, an unusual habit for him that only you were ever allowed to witness, “Sweet boy, I-I’m close—!” 

He didn’t have to warn you; you’ve done  this more than enough times to see all the signs. You felt every little twitch of his cock inside of you, and he felt every subtle quiver of yours in return. The feeling of your leaking member grinding against his stomach as you rode him brought him satisfaction to no end. 

“My love, please, will you give me the honor…?” Edward asked, his words soft and sincere against your shoulder. 

“Of course, Eddie,” You replied eagerly. You’d never hesitate to let Edward fill you up, just how you both liked. “Anything for you.”

It was clear you were losing your rhythm now, all your focus directed to angling your hips to hit just the right spot. Edward bucked up into you in return, throwing his head back with a drawn out moan as you squeezed around him. Soon he was thrusting into you wildly, desperately chasing his release. 

“Yes, yes—! Just a bit more! God, mmph—! Perfection!” 

His words of encouragement were sprinkled between frantic calls of your name, which soon took over any attempt at forming a cohesive sentence. He held on to you for dear life, practically screaming for you as he came. The sudden warm rush of him filling you was enough to give you the last extra push you needed. 

“Oh, Eddie!” 

Your last cry was shrill and broken, barely managed between incessant noises of pleasure. Edward hummed in delight at the feeling of your cum falling across his chest. 

Soon you slowed to a stop, both of you going silent as you caught your breath. You rested your forehead on Edward’s chest as he stroked your hair tenderly. 

“Oh, my love, that was exactly what I needed…” Edward said through heavy breaths. You couldn’t help but grin at that. 

“I can feel the ideas flowing, the perfect plan is in my sights— Oh, yes! That’s it! I’m so glad I have you.” The more he spoke the more giddy with excitement he became, muttering to himself in who knows what languages as you stared up at him dreamily. He was adorable when he was like this. You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, one you both smiled into.

“You have no idea how much of a help you’ve been, my love. I can’t thank you enough.” 

You shifted in Edward’s lap, placing your hand over his where it rested on your side. 

“You’re welcome, Eddie. I’ll always be here to inspire you.” 

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