#dr manhattan fanfiction

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | sexual content | objectification (f receiving) | penetration | pregnancy descriptions but no actual pregnancy or impregnation | mild breeding kink | size difference.

Seemingly cold and uncaring, you’d never think someone like DR. MANHATTAN could experience attraction. Unapproachable in nature, his glowing blue appearance does not scream invitation and yet you smile at him anyway. Polite at first, but at the sight of how his eyes soften so marginally, a real grin is drawn out of you.

She smiled at me. He thinks, endeared.

It endears him all the way to the rooftops, following you out into the night air as you watch the city below. As if he could still experience trickery without foreseeing the possible consequences of it in all forms, he’s lured to your side. You’re not put off, but you’re nervous, he can feel it emanate off you with each breath of your cells. It’s what dogs can smell. Without logical reason, he seeks to sooth your worries. Your self-doubts, your trepidations regarding being part of a team. Especially part of a team he’s a piece of, you can’t help but be intimidated by the big names you stand aside. He responds to your sharing with vague advice, anything to keep you talking, so he can listen to your voice, so he has an excuse to observe you from close range. He can count every hair follicle on your face, every bat of your long lashes at him while you look up at his towering figure. He knows to the millisecond exactly how long it took you to scan his form head to toe and back up again. Your hormones take a noticeable shift.

Ah, you’ve registered me as a sexual being. He thinks. A potential suitor, a mate, a lover. You want me.

So when the conversation takes a flirtatious turn, he allows it.

You’re young. The perfect age for fertilization if I was capable of procreation. Perhaps that is the basis of your appeal, your ability to carry children. He thinks. For a brief period, he attempts to visualize what that would be like. How your appearance would change, how your body would react, in what ways it’d never be the same after you’ve been with child. He ponders what abomination he’d create with his impossible physiology welded with the soft interiors of humanity. If he had any chromosomes, any flesh to bestow, there’s no way pregnancy would carry to term. There’s an entire war of disgusting politics that go on in a body when it grows an entire separate being inside it, a war that would be lost time and time again.

Yet his nethers stir, as if they’ve forgotten he’s unlike his former self. Those moments happen, even if they’re few and far in between. You are still attractive. You are still young. And you sit with him, and let him kiss you. Long, passionate kisses. He cups your face and slides his tongue against yours as you wriggle like an impatient pup against his bare chest. You want more, and he will grant it to you. So you take him home, you offer him tea which he accepts out of good manners but it goes cold untouched on the table while you bring him upstairs.

“Won’t you take off my clothes?” you ask, a lilt of innocence to your tone that conveys your lack of experience with someone like him. He moves to oblige you.

Ah, yes. Clothes. He thinks.

Fingers deftly graze your skin, seeking out zippers or strings or hemlines, things he remembers are tools to help remove clothes. He hasn’t had a need to wear anything for some time.

You open yourself to him. The human body is fascinating when it seeks to be bred. Legs spread, vaginal canal loosened, secreting fluid he would’ve called nectar back before he could walk on the surface of the sun. An entire internal process conducted step by step in order to ready to take him is a captivating ordeal indeed, one he chooses to observe through your sacrifice. He positions you onto your back, and manhandles you like he’s sure you’d like, laying your legs straight up against his chest and abdomen. Large hands wrap around your thighs to lift your tailbone from the mattress, entering you from this angle that has you yelling with need. With each hard thrust, his skin smacks against yours, rippling your tissue in a most artistic way, he watches your face contort with pleasure, fluids seeping out from your plugged up hole.

Surely you’re the best humanity has to offer. He’s no god, but if he was, he wouldn’t mind you as a tribute.

[shelleylovesloki]

Warped Reality

Summary: Being a student at the Sanctum Sanctorum  is never easy, especially when there is a group of rogue sorcerers led  by a mad man on the lose. Rose (Michelle) and Rachel never thought their lives  could become any more chaotic. But when Rachel is given an assignment to  hunt down Amadeus Rainer, a rogue sorcerer from the Sanctum, their  lives both take a drastic turn. Besides a band of evil sorcerers, they  are pulled into the mission to retrieve an infinity stone with the  potential to open other realms. But while on this mission, past traumas  are reopened, powers rediscovered, and realities reshaped in ways that  both women never could have imagined. And with the help of a certain God  of Mischief, the three sorcerers run into an ancient prophecy that  could open up their universe to a villain that reshapes the  understanding of magic itself. 

Chapter 6: The Start of a Long Journey

It was too early for this. 

Michelle was never a morning person, preferring her beauty rest over everything else. But for Dr. Strange’s sake, she would be a morning riser for just this once. The meeting was supposed to start in five minutes, and she wasn’t looking forward to it. There was no desire for her to take on an assignment to find a person she had a strange feeling towards, especially since they barely knew each other. Her foot tapped against the dark hardwood floor as she waited for Rachel to answer. 

“Rachel, are you almost ready? We’ve got three minutes before the meeting!” She called, starting to grow impatient. 

The door suddenly opened, revealing Rachel in her Sanctum robes, ready for the day. 

Michelle smiled as she jokingly mocked, “Took you long enough.” 

Rachel sighed as she rolled her green eyes. 

“Very funny Michelle.” 

The young sorceress looked over her clothing. 

Michelle raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“What is it?” She asked in confusion.

”I just never get why you refuse to wear the Sanctum robes. You’ve never really told me the true reason.” Rachel asked as she shut her door before they walked down the darkened hallways, shining with late morning light. 

Michelle tensed up as she looked down at her hands, which were beginning to shake uncontrollably. 

The tattoos lit up a deep purple as she stammered, “I-I am not like you, Rachel… I made my own uniform because...I feel trapped here in this place. The Sanctum Sanctorum is not my home. I’m a born and raised witch, not a sorceress that follows the magical arts. That uniform, these teachings we follow, they’re not me. And the uniform change just helps me to feel more at home with myself. That’s all.” 

Michelle looked away in embarrassment. 

“Oh Rose…” Rachel said sadly. 

Michelle shook her head. 

“Let’s just get to the meeting so I can try to weasel my way out of this predicament.” She interrupted, walking faster down the hall. 

Rachel jogged to catch up to her. 

Michelle turned and pushed open the old deep maroon wooden doors. Inside stood Strange, Wong, and Mordo talking about plans to possibly return Amadeus to the Sanctuary. 

Doctor Strange was the first to notice their presence. 

“I know that face Rose. You are not getting out of this one.” Strange said as he turned towards them both. 

Michelle’s shoulders slumped. 

“But Dr. Strange-” She protested only for the Sorcerer Supreme to cut her off, holding his hand up. 

Michelle pouted her lips as she crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. 

“We need your abilities Rose. You are necessary to this mission.” Mordo said. 

“So I’m just a tool you can use to your every whim?” She frowned as a hand rested gently on her shoulder. 

Michelle turned to see Rachel looking at her, shaking her head. A silent plea for her to stop. 

The young witch pursed her lips tightly as her face turned a slight shade of red in protest. 

“You are not a tool, Silver Witch. You are a part of the equation to help us right the wrongs happening right now.” Wong said. 

Michelle frowned at him. 

“That does not make it sound any better Wong.” She replied unamused. 

“Okay, can we just start this meeting before a brawl breaks out.” Rachel demanded. 

Everyone looked at her before returning to the map of New York City. Strange waved the two girls forward. 

Michelle and Rachel slowly came towards the mahogany table. Spread out over the top of the deep wooden table was a map of New York City. Mordo put his hand over it and the map became 3D, rising before their eyes. Michelle could see the skyscrapers, the Sanctum Sanctorum, the movie theater down the block, and the hot dog cart where she would get her lunch every Monday from a kind elder gentleman named Stan. 

“The last sighting of Amadeus was a few blocks away by a local cafe on the south side of Manhattan. We haven’t been able to pinpoint his location since then.” Mordo said. 

“Did you send out rookies?” Michelle asked knowingly. 

“All of the skilled sorcerer’s were on tasks. We had to give the trainee’s a chance.” Wong replied unamused at getting called out for his lack of wisdom. 

Michelle rolled her eyes. 

“If they are not trained for this sort of task, then you won’t get anything. The last time I saw the magic trail was when we found Rachel on the apartment building roof in Manhattan. At this point Amadeus could be anywhere within the city, and that is a lot of ground to cover.” She commented. 

“Which is why we need you to scour the area with Rachel. Search the Manhattan area for clues as to where he has gone and report back what you have found out.” Strange said. 

“And what if he isn’t in Manhattan?” Rachel asked. 

Michelle looked at her. 

There was something she was keeping to herself. She could sense it. 

“Then we’ll search the other metropolitan areas as well until we pinpoint an exact location.” Mordo said. 

“And then you find out he has left the country. That isn’t a very good plan.” Michelle said. 

“Then what would you suggest Rose?” Dr. Strange asked her. 

Michelle looked at the Sorcerer Supreme. She returned her attention to the map. 

“Spread the search to all parts of New York. Send out groups of young trainee’s to scout the location’s he has last been seen. And telling the Avengers about our little problem couldn’t hurt as well.” She suggested. 

“Amadeus isn’t an Avengers level threat.” Strange replied. 

“And the Sanctuary didn’t think Loki was an Avengers level threat until he laid waste to a third of Manhattan with an alien army. Don’t underestimate ambitious men, Doctor. Their ego over-drives their will making them a force to be reckoned with. You made this mistake once, don’t make it again.” She said putting the sorcerer’s in their place. 

None of them said a word. 

Michelle put a loose strand of her light brown hair behind her ear as she waited for them to regain their soiled pride. The Cloak of Levitation ruffled her hair in approval, making her smile. 

“Both of you start looking around the Manhattan area. We will choose groups to go around the other metropolitan areas. If you find anything, report back immediately. Good luck.” Strange said. 

Michelle and Rachel nodded and walked out of the room. 

“You looked like you knew something about Amadeus’ location in the meeting room.” Michelle commented. 

Rachel paled before she looked at her. 

“It’s nothing. I’ll tell you when we are out of the Sanctum.” She said, 

Michelle nodded and followed her to the door. The two women walked out onto the street. 

“So where do we start?” Rachel asked. 

[floralcyanidee]

ɪ sᴇᴇ ғɪʀᴇ - ᴊ. ʀᴏʙᴇʀᴛ ᴏᴘᴘᴇɴʜᴇɪᴍᴇʀ

Cillian!Oppenheimer x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)

request: scientist reader and Oppenheimer have sm sexual tension between them and trying to hide their feelings for each other cause they're colleagues but then when the Manhattan Project comes up and they both work on it together it just gets too much to handle. by @aporiasposts

disclaimer: this is a work of fanfiction. cillian's representation of oppenheimer is also fictional to a degree. if you dislike this kind of fanfiction, please keep scrolling and do not interact with this post. otherwise, have a lovely day. ♥

warnings: smut, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple positions used, mutual pining, years of sexual tension

word count: 2090

author’s note: please read the disclaimer several times if you must before you decide to comment something snarky or send a dense anonymous ask. (: this is my first time writing smut for Robert so it was interesting!! I rather enjoyed it and I think I'm going to finish the other smut I was going to write for him. also, I changed the request details a little. reader is a historian/ political scientist of sorts instead of a scientist. I feel like there is a lot of scientist!reader fics out there and wanted to be a little different haha. I hope everyone enjoys!

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

Having a doctorate in history has led you to places you never thought possible. One of those places ended up being the University of California - Berkeley. You were given the opportunity to lecture there with some of the brightest minds in the country- one of them being physicist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer. Your disciplines differed but had the same solid foundation of facts, evidence, and logic. Needing to see things to believe it for yourself was one thing the two of you had in common, which brought you together. You were interested in his lectures and as he was yours. Both of you have learned a lot from each other and have become good friends. However, there were times when you would interact, and it felt intense. You’d grade papers together in comfortable silence, sometimes stealing glances at one another. Whenever you caught Robert staring, you’d give him a small, knowing smile. When he caught you staring, he’d hold your gaze, which made you nervous. 

You enjoyed attending Robert’s political discussions after class to see how passionate he was about current issues. Dr. Lawrence, your other beloved colleague, often warned you to avoid them, but you ignored him. The energy you’d feel toward Robert every time he’d rant about how every person deserves the freedom and the right to choose was electric. It was the very basis of your beliefs as a historian and a professor. The two of you would often go for a cigarette in the courtyard between classes to enjoy the fresh air and discuss politics. Robert loved hearing your stance on things, especially since you knew your stuff about the history of politics and how things work with them. The tensions were high that day, and before you knew it, Robert leaned into you as you spoke. But before anything could happen, it was time for classes to resume. So you went your respective ways. 

When you were contacted by the government to assist on a top-secret project, you were shocked. They needed your expertise in politics and history, as well as your reading and writing skills. You asked if Robert would be involved due to his talent in psychics, but you got no answer. You didn’t take long to learn of Dr. Lawrence’s involvement in the project, and you were ecstatic to have someone you knew tagging along. He was worried about Robert not being present for the Manhattan Project simply because of his mutual and close friends being communists. You insisted you’d speak to Robert about the matter, but Ernest objected. However, after a meeting about the Spanish Revolution that Robert had held, Ernest blew up on him. He mentioned there was a project and that Robert wasn’t allowed on it as long as he was sticking his nose in communist politics. So, Robert stopped the meetings, and sure enough, General Leslie Groves eventually poked his way into Robert’s office one afternoon to discuss the Project. 

Now, the three of you were involved and had to leave Berkeley. Robert quickly assumed the position of Project leader and already had a location picked out for the Project headquarters. You had heard many stories of this location from him and demanded he take you to it before construction began. You and Robert left Berkeley and traveled to Los Alamos via horse, talking and laughing the whole time about your childhoods and times in school. You both decided to camp there overnight and enjoy the desert and its beautiful sky before dealing with the most significant project in human history. As you sat by the fire that night with Robert, you stared at the sky in wonder. Robert watched you with just as much wonder, enjoying seeing you smile. Because pretty soon, there wouldn’t be much to smile about.

By the time you had moved into Los Alamos and started getting to work, the tension between you and Robert was becoming impalpable. The camping trip solidified whatever was going on between you two- even if it was nothing at all as of right now. Robert ensured you were at every meeting so you could give your two cents if it was needed; you were the brains and the empathy of the project. Gen. Groves admired you for it because no matter how steep the project was getting, you never once panicked or got in over your head. He also admired how you managed to keep your hands off Robert despite how you looked at him. And one day, he mentioned it to you.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get out of here?” Gen. Groves asked you one day during a field test.

“Oh, uh,” you hadn’t given it much thought, “I’m not sure. Probably continue lecturing.”

“No one special in your life you want to be with?” Groves asked, a kind smile on his face.

“Not really,” you mumbled sadly, your eyes glanced over at Robert, “Not yet, anyway.”

“Maybe once all of this is over, you can pursue them,” Groves suggested knowingly, “We’re so close now. It won’t be long.”

You nodded, seeing that he knew who was on your mind just by how he studied you, “Maybe.”

After all the hard work and growing sexual tension over the tedious years at Los Alamos, the bubble separating you and Robert finally burst the morning of the Trinity Test. The test was a success, and Robert was basking in the afterglow. Everything from getting his hand shaken to being carried by the crowd of excited and ecstatic workers- it brought him some relief. There’s always sunshine before the rain. 

You invited Robert over to your quaint house on the outskirts of Los Alamos for your nightly glass of wine, but this time it was heavier. It was more meaningful because you finally accomplished what you’d been working so hard for. When Robert sat next to you on the chaise next to the fireplace, his leg touched yours. The sexual energy was like a thick, wet blanket. You took large gulps of your wine as Robert’s eyes stared into yours, his glass pressed to his lips with slower sips.

“I can’t believe it’s all over,” you shook your head.

“Me either.”

“What do we do now? What’s life after this going to be like?”

“I’m not sure about that,” Robert had set his wine down on the floor, “But I’m sure about something else.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, polishing off your drink.

“You.”

You slowly sat back up after putting your empty glass on the floor by your feet, “Me?”

“Yes,” Robert paused, “Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted you in ways I can’t explain. And I can usually explain anything.”

You chuckled at that, nodding in agreement, “That you can.”

Robert leaned in, and your smile faltered. His hand reached up to touch your cheek gently, his thumb pushing some of your hair out of the way. Your eyes fluttered shut as you waited with bated breath for Robert to finally, finally kiss you. It had been years of waiting now. And the second his lips pressed to yours, all that time seemed to drift away. There was an explosion in your chest at the feeling of Robert pressing against you on the chaise, pushing you down onto its cushions. His coat and tie have long since been discarded, so all you have to do is worry at the buttons of his shirt with your shaking fingers. Eventually, you get the shirt opened and off his slender frame as it hovered over you. Robert let his skillful tongue slip past your lips with ease, exploring every centimeter of your mouth. How you had longed for this moment.

“Need you, Robert,” you pulled away for air and sighed as his hands pushed up your legs and underneath your dress, “Always have.”

“I’m here, darling. I’m here now.”

Robert shoved the skirt of your dress over your hips and stomach, revealing your slowly soaking white and dainty underwear. He hummed in satisfaction when his finger circled the wet spot at your entrance, causing a moan to leave your lips.

“Eager, are we?” he teased, pulling down your underwear without hesitation.

“Yes,” you said bravely, “Now, nothing fancy tonight. We have plenty of time for other things, but for now, I need you inside me.”

“Alright then,” Robert chuckles, hastily unbuckling his slacks before pushing them far enough down his legs to be comfortable.

He glided his tip along your slickness, gathering all he could to push inside you with less friction. You whined at the contact, a wanton moan escaping you suddenly as he moved into you at a patient pace. But you were anything but patient, especially at this point. You pushed your hips, causing Robert to enter you further, to which he let out a delicious groan. His hands gripped your sides intensely, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth baring down into the skin as he felt you suck his cock in. 

“Wanted- needed this for so long,” Robert whispered in your ear as his tip finally brushed against your insides.

“God, me too,” you cried out when he slowly pulled back out and then slammed back into you, “Fuck.”

“Such a dirty mouth,” Robert tutted playfully, to which you flashed him a smile, moving your hips to wiggle him further inside you.

Robert had thrust himself into you again, this time a little faster than the last. He kept doing this until he had a steady rhythm, lifting your legs to put on his shoulders to get a better angle. You growled at the sensation of him hitting your cervix, and your hands scratched down his back. Robert picked up speed, almost making the chaise scoot on the floor. He was fucking you like mad, and you were taking every second of it like his cock was water and you were thirsting in the desert. In this situation, the figure of speech wasn’t too far from the truth. The feeling of him repeatedly steering into your stomach made you nearly squeal from pleasure. Robert presses your thighs to your shoulders, the undersides of them against his chest. You were a mess, moaning like a whore and gripping Robert as if you blinked hard enough, he’d disappear.

“Taking me like such a good girl,” Robert grunted, moving a hand to your cunt to swipe at your clit in time with his thrusts.

You tossed your head back, crying out at the sensation. No one had ever fucked you with such vigor and passion. You felt that growing bubble in your gut, expecting it to burst any second.

“Cum in me,” you demanded, “Need to feel you.”

Robert laughed breathlessly at you, “Are you sure?”

“Certain.”

And as if he weren’t going fast enough, he pulled out, flipped you over, and took you from behind even faster than before. Robert pushed your cheek into the chaise cushion, watching you as you side-eyed him with utmost pleasure. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your orgasm creeping up. Robert pushed your lower back down as far as it’d go, your stomach flush with the material of the chaise underneath you. Your ass being in the air caused Robert to hit a new spot inside you, sending you reeling and spilling over the edge. As your cunt suffocated his cock with its walls, Robert followed your release with his own. His hot cum filled you up with warmth, your hips still bouncing against him. Robert panted from behind you, slowly pulling himself out of your now-dripping pussy. 

You rolled back onto your back, now facing Robert, “That was… wow,” you exhaled.

“I concur,” Robert joked, sitting back and pulling you onto his lap.

You hummed in exhaustion, blissed out as you hung your head on his shoulder.

“Want to stay?” you asked tiredly, eyeing the now-spilled remainder of wine Robert had placed on the floor earlier. You’d worry about it tomorrow.

“I’d love to,” Robert muttered into your ear, kissing it before picking you up off his lap.

The rest of your night is spent watching Robert study you as you lay beside each other in bed. He took you in as if he was seeing you in a new perspective- and he was. Robert was as curious about you as he was about the world and how it worked. Except now, he had to worry about not destroying you like he had the world.

taglist:

@baizzhu @hjmalmed @queenshelby @hjmalmed @amanda08319 @orijanko @naty-1001 @raineeace @savagemickey03 @langdons-slut @shynovelist @sstar-ggirl @trixie23 @dunklerkeks1611 @hllywdwhre @slut4thebroken @mypoisonedvine @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @cranesbathtowel @arieslost @nefhertari @forgottenpeakywriter @llucky-llove @october-atoner @madlittlecriminal @ynisthatyou @starbxnny @darkmoviesquotespizza @newtsniffles @acapelladitty @radmerrmaid @loverhymeswith @lacontroller1991 @pictureinme

[nitannichionne]

Ransom's Redemption (Chris Evans Fanfiction), Chapter 21: New York, New York (Ransom POV)

Oh, yeah. JFK, and I could feel the heartbeat of the city.

I do miss this place. My god, when I think of all the parties I had here, went to there, it's a wonder I wasn't in jail sooner.

I call Mimi as I head for the pick up area.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe, I'm here."

"Sounds like the airport."

"Yeah," I look around. "I wish you were here."

"Me, too." I see a driver holding a sign: RANSOM DRYSDALE. "Hey, my driver is here--"

"Driver?"

"Looks like it," I say, trying to hold in my excitement.

"Call me when you get to the hotel. I wanna see the room."

I laugh. "You got it."

"Love you."

"Love you more."

I hear her do a little gasp.

"Talk to you later."

"Okay," she giggles softly. "later."

I click off and head to the driver. Aw, yeah. I love New York. I t just makes my heart beat faster. "I'm Ransom." I nod to the driver.

"I'm Curtis," he nods and does a tip of his hat. He takes my carryon, and I wave off him carrying my backpack. "Alright, follow me, sir."

"Thanks."

"Did you have a good flight?"

"Yes, wasn't long." It was actually ninety minutes. Somehow, flying in made me feel as if I traveled far, far from some of the bad stuff in Boston-like my parole officer who isn't that bad, and Mr. Green whom I was happy to finish that part of my community service for. It had been a long three months. Then there were the guys at Clockwork, who I loved having a beer with.

I was taken to a hotel in Manhattan, a nice one at that. It reeked with romance, and I realized that was what Paul meant by "one stop shopping." We were going to do some work around the hotel. Though I was happy to see that, I also didn't like it. My parole officer ordered that I be in a room instead of a rental, he didn't realize how much could happen at a hotel if you could keep quiet or grease a few palms for discretion. I did love having my own room. I almost thought I'd have a celly. 

But I wish Mimi was here. It's nice to work in a place like this, but even nicer to bring her along. Even the room made me wish she was there, and I realized that I missed my chance:

I groaned as the alarm went off this morning. 

"Hey, you." Mimi said softly.

"Hey, you," I echoed. 

She scooted over to me and put her head on my chest. "It's much better today."

"Yeah, I noticed." I smile down at her.  "Nice to see you."

"Yeah," she said, snuggling closer. "Between Jojo and Dr. Renquist, I'm not as queasy anymore."

"That and knowing now that the smell of fish is a trigger."

"Yeah," she says sadly.

"Don't worry, you'll be back to eating salmon in no time, Mimi."

"I never thought a favorite would be off the list."

"And now all you want is burgers from that place down the street."

"Like some people I know," she teases. "I think it's the ketchup mayo thing I really like."

"Me too." The alarm sounds again, and I sigh, "Gotta get going."

"Awww--"

"Raincheck, babe," I tell her. "We can watch anime another day, okay?"

"Oh...okay."

I am an idiot! I realize what she was wearing:

She usually wears one of my t-shirts and pajama pants! 

Come to think of it, she's been wearing alot of really nice stuff lately...tempting me in the mornings...

I get to the hotel room and before I even begin to unpack, there is a knock at my door. I look through the peephole and laugh at Paul on the other side of the door. I open it, asking, "Damn, Paul, were we on the same plane?"

"I got here early to set things up for tomorrow," he laughs. "I mean, a long weekend sounds fun, right?"

"I plan on going home first chance I get," I tell him. "It's almost Christmas, man."

"We're a ninety minute flight away."

I look at him. I plan on being home on the 23rd. What is this guy talking about? The answer I come up with makes me feel bad for him. "Who are you spending Christmas with?"

"I dunno, changes year to year," he sighs. "I was thinking about going to see my sister."

"You two are like cat and dog!" I laugh.

"But we're all each other's got," he shrugs with a grimace. "Mom died, and Dad followed within months."

"I'm sorry, when--"

"Two years ago."

"Aw, I'm sorry, man." The idea of a pal spending Christmas alone sucked. I would get all kinds of presents from Mimi every month-tea and book. Art magazines came every month. Even then, the guards felt she loved me. I would get comic postcards or some that were of places from around the world that I actually left behind when I got out. Some kingpin of the block got jealous, thinking I had friends everywhere (which I did), but when I pointed out that they were all postmarked in Massachusetts, he let up.  I spent time binding them into joke books, some given in deals I had to make. My first Christmas in prison was the best. She sent me brushes, paints and paper (directly from the manufacturer) and I shared my art markers with other 'resident artists.' In fact, I left it all behind, and promised to send supplies to the library. I literally spend $200 a month to try to keep supplies up in there.

"You ready to go?"

I laugh at him. "I just got in, barely had a thought. I haven't shown Mimi--"

Then I'm just in time!" Paul cheers. "The lounge here is great, let's go down for a bit."

"Dinner and drinks," I say slowly. "I remember many wild nights that started that way."

"Aw, I can't help it if the Big Apple is always ready for another bite." He gives me a playlful slap on the shoulder. "We're on a pass--"

"Oh, we're military now?"

"Might as well be, with " the man" watching. C'mon, we should get going."

"The cuffs are lose, but--" I raise my ring hand. "This one isn't."

Paul raises an eyebrow at me. "Whatever."

"See ya in a bit, okay?"

"Alright, Ran."

That's what he used to call me when we used to go out partying. I pushed him out the door.  "In twenty."

The second he left, I called her:

As soon as I got rid of him, I called Mimi.

"Hey, babe," she greets with a little giggle. I smile at my reflection in the hotel mirror, looking at my bed, knowing that my ringer on her phone was I Wanna Do Bad Things With You.

"Hey, at the hotel."

"Nice?"

"Yeah," I sigh as I plop down on the bed, kick off my shoes and put my feet up. "It'd be alot more fun if you were here."

"I miss you, too." She is quiet for a moment. "Where's Paul?"

"Paul is someplace being Paul."

"'Photographer getting my money Paul' or 'I want my running buddy back Paul?'"

"Doesn't matter," I recline back on the pillow. "He's not wearing a ring."

"Good answer!" she giggles. "So, what're you up to, tonight?"

"Tonight is just dinner and drinks," I sigh. "Wish you were here for dessert, babe."

Her little sharp intake of breath makes me smile. "Oh, I wish I was, too."

"But then I wouldn't be as motivated to get work done and get home," I look around. "Wanna see the room? I'd love to bring you here."

"Let me see."

"Nice!"

"Restful, romantic," I correct. "But I bet it's a damn good view in the morning." 

"Yeah."

I note the sadness in her voice as I set my travel clothes aside. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What, babe?" I start 

"In the past, I seem to remember you being quite the party animal there."

"Say it again."

"In the past--"

"Stop right there," I say quickly. "Let's leave it there."

She laughs softly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," I say softly, responding to the lilt in her voice.

Suddenly there is a knock on the door. "Ah, hold on." I look to see Paul again, and let him in.

"Aw, you're not dressed?" he asks.

"We're just going downstairs."

"But--" he notices my earbud in my ear. "Is that--"

"Yes, Paul."

"Oh, hey--" 

"Flip him off for me," Mimi says with a smile I can hear.

I laugh out loud and do it.

"Rude," Paul sticks out his tongue.

"Just playin' around man--"

"Not really."  Mimi laughs. "Have fun." 

"Thanks, baby. I'll call you when I get back in." After we click off, I tell Paul, "You've got to do better with her."

"Yeah, yeah," he rolls his eyes. "C'mon man, let's go!"

@nuggsmum  @messyinsomnimaniac @jencanbeyouryengeralt  @sweetdreamsofgelato  @@mary-ann84  @omgkatinka  @the-soot-sprite  @viking-raider  @keanureevesisbae  @henryobsessed  @summersong69   @sunshine96love  @michelehansel    @thelastsock   @tumblnewby  @tenaciousneckpartypainter  @rn7rocks  @daydreamin83  @musicartmayheminmyheart @kaatelyynn-blog-blog@forallthebrokenheartedthings @alphacancrii  @liquorlaughslove @designerwriterchic   @tamychm  @nikkilynn303  @circesgirl1   @xoxohannahlee  @pixie88@fckdeusername @maan24  @kaatelyyynn​  @october505​ @absentmindr​ @introvertedmouse​  @sassy-pelican @griscka75 @kebabgirl67 @its-carlerr

[denimbex1986]

'Two weeks ago, on a Sunday, I literally ran out of my six-hour Patient Care Technician shift to watch "Oppenheimer," Christopher Nolan's biopic starring Cilian Murphy as the Manhattan Project scientist, J. Robert Oppenheimer. In ninth grade, I had the opportunity to interview Dr. Benjamin Bederson, who was a bomb switch operator for the Manhattan project, so the inner high school history nerd in me was ready to be enthralled by the movie of the summer.

However, the iconic and controversial "Gita" sex scene where grad student Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh) descends on Oppenheimer had me literally running out of the room faster than I ran out of my job to watch it in the first place. In this scene, the two sleep together for the first time following a communist party gathering. Midway through intercourse, Jean picks up a bound copy of the Hindu scripture "Bhagavad Gita" from Oppenheimer's bookshelf, and asks him to read from it – where we get the foreboding quote, "Now I become death, the destroyer of worlds" – before proceeding with the act as he continues to read. Although the film has received rave reviews, this scene has garnered immense criticism from Hindu nationalist group, Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), for its insertion of religious scripture into sexual intercourse.

Disclaimer: I started squirming in my seat during the scene and spent a good 10 minutes afterwards in the bathroom stall, calming myself down. Then I bought a blue Icee and ran back in to watch the rest.

The scene, although uncomfortable, was mind-opening. All of a sudden my present started to articulate my past forward as I was transported out of the movie theater and into my eighth grade health classroom. Today's topic: the forms of sex. All three forms – as my teacher called it. As someone who didn't even know that sex existed until that moment, I immediately started twisting in my chair and had to leave the room as the teacher's descriptions got more and more detailed. My mind could not handle the fact that two people could crave touching each other's private parts out of choice or out of adoration. But several of my classmates were unfazed. And several of them laughed at my reaction for weeks.

At that point, I knew I had to change. I had to take initiative to learn what my parents had always avoided discussing with me. So, I started reading "Game of Thrones" and its fanfiction to educate myself. And lots of it. By the time I had finished high school and college, I had read so much of it that I thought I had numbed my mind to sexual thought and literary depiction. But that "Oppenheimer" Gita sex scene told me differently.

When I saw it on screen, I still could not handle it.

Growing up in a conservative Indian American household in the midwestern United States, I never heard from my parents discussions about certain bodily actions seen as "obscene" or taboo and why society perceived them in that way. I'd never seen them even kiss each other in front of my sister and me. I never had a person who could talk candidly with me about embarrassing or scary changes in my body and make them no longer seem so mysterious and foreign. After that revelatory eighth grade sexual health education class, there were questions that I was dying to ask but knew it was not OK to ask my mom or dad. To them, there was no comedy nor beauty in discussing sex and sexuality, especially when they were starting from scratch with someone like me, who was on the brink of puberty but still had many gaps in her knowledge. I wondered why my parents always shied away from this topic – even when it is something so deeply human and important.

"You don't have to know these things. The more you know about it, the more you will want to jump in earlier," my mom would say. "I don't know why they teach these things to kids so early in this country."

Two years later, in 10th grade world history class, I was a raging "Game of Thrones" fan who had read almost every Sansa/Tyrion fanfic on the internet (including the rated M for mature ones). We were learning about ancient India, and my favorite teacher of all time told us something that shocked me more than the Oppenheimer scene: that early Indian civilization was a pioneer in and center of sexual desire.

Across the whiteboard he had written in all caps these words: KAMA SUTRA.

"Do you know what this is," he yelled across the room to the whole class. "Anyone? How about you, Sibani?"

I was the only Indian American student in my high school class. I honestly and vigorously shook my head. I worshiped this man on many levels, but I sincerely did not know the answer to his question. I was also embarrassed that I didn't know about this supposedly very important text from my own culture.

"This is a book . . . about sex," he continued. "All the different positions and the ways to enjoy them. And it originated in INDIA."

I felt my face flush. My parents had ensured that I watch re-enacted versions of the Indian epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana on our tiny TV screen in my small Iowan midwestern town. My late grandmother had ensured that I learned how to speak my native language TamiI, and my parents pushed me to retain that. They put me through Carnatic singing lessons over the phone to help me better connect with my heritage and culture. Yet, they had conveniently chosen not to mention this uncomfortable but fascinating truth about the book of sex originating in India.

That day, I went home and scoured the internet. And what my genius of a world history teacher had told me was beyond true. It turned out that I did not have to even turn to the internet, but rather had to dig back into my own memories of visiting temples across South India during my summers and sometimes seeing their walls adorned with near-naked female idols. When visiting, I remember being a bit surprised that these sculptures were not taken down by the conservative Indian communities that surrounded them. However, history reveals that the communities that initially surrounded the sculptures may have been ones where sex and spirituality were united, not untied.

For example, the seven-foot-tall Sathyamurthi Perumal Temple in my motherland of Tamil Nadu, India features detailed and sacred architecture depicting intercourse. In fact, these structures are protected by the Archeological Survey of India. This is not a standalone example. The juxtaposition of sexuality and sanctity can be seen in Hindu temples ranging from the Sun Temple in Gujarat to the Jain temples of Rajasthan to the Virupaksha temple in Karnataka – all located in India.

Early India's fascination with sex is not limited to architecture but also spills over into literature beyond the "Kama Sutra." While the major Hindu epics "Mahabharata" and "Ramayana" are certainly not as pornographic as "Game of Thrones," these ancient religious epics are far from devoid of the depictions of sexual pleasure. The pages contain stories of great sages committed to abstinence, who could resist everything but the temptations of sex. Draupadi, a pivotal character in "Mahabharata" and powerful example of polyandry, simultaneously keeps and sleeps with five husbands. Hindu scripture is not devoid of sexual exposure. In fact, the "Gita "that Oppenheimer invests his mind in is derived from a scene in the "Mahabharata."

When my mom sent me an article on the Hindu nationalists' criticism of the questionable sex scene in "Oppenheimer," I immediately defended the Western approach to sex.

"The difference between the Western world and the Indian one is that the Western one can own up to human temptations and sins, versus in India, we like to hide from what makes us human anyway. Just remember that India – not USA – was the earliest erotic place in the world where a so-called 'book' originated. Read beyond headlines," I wrote in response.

However, I now realize that my scathing response – while it is not fully false – lacks sensitivity. The "Gita" is a sacred text. While it does encourage sex for procreation, it discourages sex for pleasure. I do not agree with that principle in the "Gita" (isn't sex called making love for a reason?), but I do think Nolan crossed the line a bit. Just a bit. But only a bit.

Even if the scene made me very uncomfortable, walking through Hindu temples trying to recite prayers and seeing naked copulation sculptures has also made me very uncomfortable. So, when the Hindu nationalist BJP calls the scene a "disturbing attack on Hinduism" that "wages a war on the Hindu community," that is not at all accurate either. The earliest Hindus saw sex as a soul of their religion and culture. Maybe that is not how things are today, but as a Hindu woman myself, history and religion calls upon me to pursue the truth. The truth is that sex was a characteristic of early Hindu civilizations in a way that was arguably more explicit than any scene in "Oppenheimer." The truth is that my parents and several of my Indian American friends' parents unfortunately often avoid this reality. The truth is that Nolan saw the raw sexual stuff of life as text to be read, art to be created and conversation to be generated. If anything, this scene pays tribute to the reality that several sacred Hindu spaces – even if this excludes the "Bhagavad Gita" itself – do indeed sing of the sexual.

To all Hindus in this world – including the BJP – let's not be angry and offended. We've not earned the right to be given the past. Instead, let's invite a responsible dialogue about what history can teach us about our own religion. And then, we can talk about how we would like for that religion to be accurately represented.'

[brooklynislandgirl]

Batman vs Superman?

Consider It A Challenge || Accepting

As far as questions go, this is one of those universal ones endlessly debated in comic shops, after movie premieres, and the entire basis of ruthless internet assassinations. The problem is that she doesn't really understand why. She knows what it is like being a billionaire with moral quandaries. There is a reason why she chose to become a Gardener. And perhaps seeing Batman's actions only highlight the doubts that come to stalk her in the darkest of hours, whether she is truly doing the right thing and how, every time she must prune a branch or pull up a weed, she makes mockery of her oath to do no harm. She is not an angel reaching for an ascension that might never come, but she doesn't think she is a devil, either. Father Vinnie would tell her if she were straying from her path, wouldn't he? Like, it's right there in his job description, being a shepherd of the Church, speaking with the authority of the Divine. As for Superman? Well, she's always made that comparison to Andy. The eternal Boy Scout, the protector and rescuer, bigger and better and stronger and faster than anyone else. But he's also not human. Can never be. There are times in those coloured pages that sometimes talk about what happens when he gets fed up. When through treachery or dismay, he turns. Then what becomes of those who look to him for mercy and protection? Maybe Lex Luthor isn't so crazy after all, a necessary evil that she can too easily also empathise with. She hates the one Justice League movie or whatever because the entire premise was built on the back on an idiot plot. Snyder should be ashamed of himself making two heroes fight to the death because they couldn't have a reasonable five minute conversation, and none of their friends seemed to be in on it either. Their agencies as people and as heroes was robbed of them. Plus Jessie Eisenberg? Now THAT is a joke. But maybe she's looking at it the wrong way. Maybe it has nothing to do with a battle of supremacy between DC's flagship heroes. Maybe the question is just which one she likes best. And the answer is simply...neither. Oh she loves Martian Man Hunter. And Constantine. She loves Barry Allen and Hal Jordan. There's Doctor Mid-Nite and Rorschach, Raven and Beast Boy, Dr Manhattan. Solomon Grundy and Gorilla Grodd. Jonah Hex and the Phantom Stranger. There's the Endless, whom she loves one and all. But really? Deep down in her heart of hearts, there's only two superheroes that she can truly love, support, and may have written fanfiction about. "Neiddah. My heart is torn between my two bes' ali'i. King of Atlantis- Aquaman aka Art'ur Curry... an' my truest love in comics, King Shark. Our god-prince, Nanaue."

[fiddler-sticks]

Just remembering the Newsies fanfiction that my friend wrote that has all of our friend group in it, and feeling really sentimental. It was never finished, because everyone got really busy, and then the group practically fell apart. When I mentioned I was thinking about it in the chat, everyone who's left said they've been thinking about it lately, too. Now if that isn't both creepy and sad...

Anyway, here's the link if anyone would like to read it. WNA forever <3

[artbyblastweave]

Taking the bait for Tick

Setting fusion in which the end of Watchmen loosely overlaps with the appearance of Scion and the rise of actual superpowered capes, who are using the Minutemen and Crimebusters as their cultural referents when they start to go out in costume. Vikare doesn't get beaten to death in this AU because people don't believe he has powers, or at least not specifically because of that; he gets beaten to death because people are sick of the masked vigilantes in general and haven’t twigged to the fact that this is a genuinely new paradigm. 

Scion ends the cold war (possibly intervening in the squid attack? Not sure of the exact timeline on this) frustrating Ozymandias and driving him to involvement with early Cauldron; his motivation is halfsies between recognition of the threat posed by Scion and irritation that an actual monstrous space-squid dropped out of the aether to obviate his meticulously crafted space-squid plan. He might be the recipient of a vial, or he might be kept on, very deliberately, as the token paragon human to act as a counterbalance to Average Jane Doctor Mother; this has mixed effects on the organization’s efficacy, because despite his gestures towards pragmatism (”I did it 35 minutes ago”) he did name and style himself after one of the most famously egotistical mythohistorical figures. Bit of an ego there.

In all derivative works that examine the future of the Watchmen setting, attempts at Heroism in general are framed as being essentially unsuppressable once the precedent has been set. Scion exacerbates this process, as a stateless, apolitical agent of heroic idealism replacing the nakedly political (but ironically much more human) Dr. Manhattan, and thus giving a northstar to people who otherwise would be understandably cynical about heroism as a concept.

 Night Owl and Silk Spectre, who canonically embarked on a renewed crimefighting career after Watchmen canon, are early beneficiaries of this, both becoming unusually old triggers due to their disproportionately high levels of experience, and beneficiaries of Cauldron’s eventual pro-cape cultural engineering, being lauded as prescient early adopters and fixtures of the third-wave cape scene. I don’t really have much in mind for this part, beyond the idea that Dan, based on his canon insecurities and disillusionment, probably becomes an overengineering Tinker- building tinkertech that gets the job done but is almost always just a flashier way of accomplishing a mundane goal if you stop and think about it for two seconds. Laurie I suspect would have some kind of trigger event tied up in her inability to let go of cape life, her sense of being a vessel for other’s ambitions and fantasies, her lack of meaningful options besides capehood (”I’m 35 years old and the only people I know are goddamn superheroes!”) but I don’t have a pat power in mind, or really the best grasp of her character beyond the surface stuff.

Lurking in the background of the setting is Rorschach, whose inability to reconcile his personal ethics with the utilitarian action everyone else committed to, and his ensuing suicidal state, causes him to undergo the mother of all breaker triggers at the moment of his canon annihilation. Post-Manhattaning Rorschach is a Breaker/Thinker/Master/Stranger who, upon scanning a target, gains knowledge of any information that might shatter that person’s worldview, and the ability to telepathically inflict that knowledge on his target if he gets close enough. Said ability to get close enough is provided by the fact that his breaker state- a blurry, spectral caricature of his pre-trigger costume- is both mostly intangible and imperceptible to anyone who doesn’t share a “headspace” with his current target (I.E. someone who’d be equally devastated to hear the Worldview-Shattering-Truth.) Rorschach’s targets either tend to quietly melt down and fall off the radar, or go out in a suicidal burst of self-destruction that accomplishes very little beyond getting the target killed; this is a process lubricated by Rorschach’s shard, which, due to Rorschach’s perma-breaker state, is able to play Rorschach like a fiddle, nudging him into targeting people who’ll go off the rails in a conflict-maximizing way.

Rorschach’s power resolves the tension of his trigger in the worst way possible; he’s free to follow his ideals in spreading horrific truths to as many people as he wants, but only in a way that inflicts the same moral paralysis or self-destruction he suffered from; to the extent that his information is actionable, it solely produces doomed, crazed crusaders who die before accomplishing much, essentially rendering his choice to share the information moot (and morally harmless.) To the extent that this thing would have a plot, I think it would involve 2011-era characters (probably a Watchdog cube jockey) investigating Case 86, The Rorschach Ghost, and invariably stumbling upon the information black hole surrounding the Ozymandias plot.

[cornholio4]

Team Iron Man’s Doomsday Clock

Dedicated to the memory of actor Wilford Brimley, 1934-2020. May he Rest in Peace and I hope for the best for his friends and family.

This week I got in the mail my DVD for the Watchmen show, I am also actually interested in the upcoming Rorschach comic series. Hopefully Tom King will pull off his Mr Miracle quality of writing and not his Heroes in Crisis quality of writing. Also I apologised for this as I knew beforehand that I am nowhere near good enough as a writer to perfectly capture Dr Manhattan (I am not even sure that he would be care enough about the MCU Earth to form an opinion of it). Also if by some larger than life miracle Alan Moore himself finds this fanfic that I am writing that could be a sequel to Watchmen as well as admitting to having seen the Watchmen show as well as now have read Doomsday Clock and wants to read the other possible sequel to the comic... Please have mercy on the curse that you send my way.

It was after the so called Civil War of the Avengers and Tony Stark even after getting Steve Rogers' letter. He shared everything with Rhodey and then to Pepper when she came about wanting to have a serious talk. They were all angry about all this and what Steve had done.

How dare him and his rogue sheep think of how their precious freedoms will be impacted, how they dare want to not sign until their concerns are realised and that they could have the safeguards guaranteed before signing anything. How dare Steve burn the world for his stupid HYRA killer friend Bucky when he went to bring him in because he was capable of not being killed and was protecting the hit squad from Bucky as well as him. How dare they want to not fight and just want to focus on what they knew was a real threat in the 5 Winter Soldiers and knew that Tony jsut wanted to bring them in and wasn't interested in what they had to say.

How dare Steve not reveal that Bucky had killed his parents though he apologised saying he was only protecting himself since he only knew for sure that HYDRA had killed the Starks and that he admitted that he didn't know that it was Bucky who personally did it.

Well they were focused on brewing and revenge especially when the reports of Steve and his rogues (who the public and some media began just calling the Avengers) just doing what they wanted in rescuing people and fighting terrorists around the world, sadly they got the public on their side and Anti-Accords sentiment became popular. They called his surrogate son Harley Keener (who Tony hadn't talked to in a long time) and got him on board and he was totally on their side.

Sadly Tony lost his other surrogate son who he barely knew Peter Parker the Spider-Man who after learning more about the Accords and feeling fed up about Happy not having any answers from Tony to the questions he was asking, blocked the number and was basically done with Tony. It seems that Peter joined his friends in promoting Anti Accords and pro Cap articles and statements. Then Vision left them to hide with Wanda. Rogers and his rogues were ruining anything.

They began trying to recruit more including Hank Pym, Hope Van Dyne and Thor's old girlfriend Jane Foster. However their recruitment was pretty much a failure as the Pyms were still on the 'don't trust a Stark' mentality (with Hope subtlety making it clear that if Scott had brought her on to the airport battle then she would have been on his and Rogers' side). Jane asked why they thought that she should be involved in this at all.

However with 'borrowed' research on the Quantum Realm from the Pyms they managed to find a way to look into the Multiverse and other Earths. They found one where decades in the past after the popularity of Action Comics #1, costumed vigilantism became popular among people and it was a fad that lasted for a good long time. However they became more brutal and dangerous and it led to public outcry and a police strike causing a law to be enacted making them illegal called the Keene Act.

They felt so vindicated because them being outlawed entirely if they were not put in check was exactly what Tony had warned Rogers and his rogues about. They saw there was only one real Superhuman on this Earth and it was Dr Manhattan who through an accident became a powerful force far beyond anything on their own Earth. He single handedly won the Vietnam War for America (while ignoring how horrible the thought was) and thought that they can recruit him and he can take care of Rogers and his Rogues and then make the whole world better. Plus they could handle the big threat that his coming...

Through countless money and hours of building (having to ignore and cancel appointments with Ross calling demanding to see them as he was being close to being kicked out of office and the Stark Industries board of directors telling them about the failing stock) they got a machine ready to summon Dr Manhattan.

Using the large Arc Reactor they had to rebuild and using the entirety of the power of Avengers Tower, they managed to summon Dr Manhattan there from wherever he was. He was like a glowing blue godlike larger than life creature and thank god that he was able to create the black thong to cover himself...

They explained everything to him and he stated "I can see the past, present and future all at once and I already knew of this before you explained yourself. You remind me of Adrian Veidt somewhat Mr Stark..." Tony beamed and there were smiles from the others and Dr Manhattan continued on "He masterminded a plot to get scientists to create for him a fake interdimensional lifeform out of believe that it was a movie plot. He used his lifeform to devastate New York in a plot to unite the world and end the Cold War through a futile peace that was destined to fail. I fail to understand how you would believe that it was a compliment."

They were not pleased with how this was headed as Dr Manhattan said "while I am sort of impressed that you went through this work to bring me here, unfortunately for you I don't believe that I have any desire to continue being a weapon for the governments of any Earths. If you are done then I will be on my way."

They were gobsmacked and Rhodey shouted "you can't be serious! You should know how right we are and that you should help us, we know about the Keene Act and there is an actual threat coming and not some hoax..."

"A law to outlaw dangerous individuals from playing dress up while your Accords seek to control Superhumans while blaming them for incidents where they were actually responding and fighting to save the day. I have seen the life of Steve Rogers and why he opposed the Accords and I have to admit some admiration for him and his ilk who want to inspire hope and good in this world that is so much brighter and more... fantastical than my own one. Steve Rogers could very well be everything that Edward Blake wasn't and should be. With him and his Avengers uniting with teh world's greatest defenders and not divided by issues like these Accords, I see high probability in their success." Dr Manhattan replied and this got them all angry.

This was a god like being who should have been smart enough to know that they were the right side and Rogers was an idiot thug who was preaching his own twisted morality, they will humble him and get him to join them by force. Tony activated the House Party Protocol and they cheered as all his armours were assembled to fire upon Dr Manhattan.

However Dr Manhattan was not phased at all and without even having to snap his fingers all the armours disintegrated all at once. "This isn't over, you leave right now and we will hunt you down and get you back by force! I can make use of your power myself; you will pay as Rogers will. I am the world's smartest man, I am Tony Stark... I am Iron Man!" Tony snapped with his colleagues cheering him on.

Dr Manhattan saw that in less than a week they will get the news that the Accords were repealed with the Governments welcoming Steve Rogers back, Thaddeus Ross will be in handcuffs once evidence of his secret projects come to life and Mr Stark and his colleagues will get the news that the Stark Industries board had enough of them ignoring their calls and then sell off their stock. 51% of Stark Industries will be bought by Hank Pym and his daughter Hope using some offshore money that they had.

Steve will have the Avengers united and then once Bruce Banner and Doctor Stephen Strange comes to them , the Avengers will be ready and Thanos's snap and the disintegration of 50% of all life in this universe, doesn't come to pass.

However before leaving Dr Manhattan gave them a last message to Mr Stark and his colleagues:

"Even if you were the world's smartest man... The World's smartest man poses no more threat to me than it's smartest termite."

[vengeful-supermarket]

I saw a dumb incel tweet that sounded like a bad Watchmen fanfic to me. So I made this.

[hanasnx]

(You have no idea how excited I was when I read Dr Manhattan on your chara list ^^)

I was thinking of something more objectifying with him? Like he's exploring and examining your body in such a way that makes you feel just like another one of his experiments. It feels so good but even as your moaning your heart out and you're dripping into a puddle he still has that expressionless and almost sullen look on his face.

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! — request DC characters.

“Amazing what the human body does under the- slightest- touch.” DR. MANHATTAN’s curious hand traces down your body, exploring every dip and curve of your figure elegantly. You remain on your back, watching him hover over you, bathed in his blue light. Cerulean flowers bloom in the reflection of your eyes as he nears, a warm emanating off of him like radiation. The hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and it puts a gleam in your gaze. However, Jon stares back, devoid of reciprocation, as the hand that traversed you so delicately, now brushes between your legs. A fragile shiver runs up your spine, and his eyes search yours.

“There’s nothing here for you- nothing but a promise… and yet,” he muses over you like you’re an environment to be observed. He ghosts his hand right below your sex, gusting it with the gentlest cooling breeze. The near miss of contact is a tease, and you hiss through your teeth. “You’re baiting yourself over the immaterial. Do you really think I’m just going to hand it to you?” The rhetorical question reinforces the idea that even though you’re able to answer his inquiries, he doesn’t want you to. You’re as good as any wall he could be talking to.

When he does eventually concede, it’s well worth the wait. It’s not restrained foreplay, or light fingering. Now he’s inside you, feeding those guts that have been crying out for him every minute he was apart. When you have been unable to respond to him, your pussy talks back, sputtering around the glowing cock that pistons in obediently. At first, you noticed his attentiveness, but now he’s looking through you. Those eyes seem far off while he gathers every otherwise-overstimulating sensation to catalogue in his brain. Every micro-sound, every neuron firing off, every sweating molecule working to complete a task that can’t bear fruit other than self-serving pleasure, is recording in his brain like a typewriter. It’s not a matter of sex, it’s a matter of data.

[chaneajoyyy]

I’m glad I had a great time regardless! He’s gonna show up knowin my name? And knows about the date that stood me up? We’re gonna hook up?!! What does he mean he’s gonna end up in the same spot by the end of the week? Wow he’s knows so much! He’s gonna love mans and in time imma love him?👀👀. He ain’t have to call me out like that😭. Wowww😩. His eyes looked happy?🥺. Alright, this is amazing!!👍🏾🙌🏾🙋🏾‍♀️♥️👀👀!!!

Manhattan’s Finest

First Part

[Dr. Manhattan x Black Reader]

Word Count: 2.4K

Keep reading

[constellationswh40kau]

Memes and Themes spawned by the Constellations Discord Server

@incorrect-primarchs-quotes

So Many PetPet Memes

Ra knows everyone. He has the photos of your great-great grandma even your family doesn't have. He knows all your embarrassing childhood stories, about your estranged second cousin's pregnancy. He knows all.

Byzantine Ultramarines and Roboute Guilliman

Horrible Tapeworm Child Konrad

The Eyas stealing all the Servo Skulls

The Monkey

Constantin Valdor refusing to leave a zoo of any kind because he loves natural history

Dr. Victor von Doom being an Emperor-approved babysitter

Arkhan Land is No Longer Allowed to Do Genetics

BROOKLYN SUPREME / HORMSE

The not-actually-a-mermaid-au WIP

Angron Likes Sea Turtles and Whales

Sanguinius, Magnus and Corvus flying into windows

PLEASE GET OUT OF MY GOOGLE DOCS / HIVEMIND!

The Imperium Reinventing Vine

Everyone Is A Cryptid

Bad Fanfiction Porn of the Legio Custodes

The Lingua Ignota Dictionary

The Hug Squad

Roboute is The Distraction/Cry-on-cue Sibling

Corvus Swallowing Anything Shiny

Transhuman Social Culture

Purring

Custodians Who Knit

Fuck Kor Phaeron

Fuck Erda

Anrek Having Dad Energy / Being the Emotional Support Night Lord

Jasteel and Anrek's Excellent Adventures

Jasteel and Anrek being Arm Candy

Fulgrim Will Eat Anything

The Eldritch Family Portrait

Ribcage Snuggles

The Babies Do Manhattan

The Infinity Stones are Snacks

Games with The Eyas

Hiding in The Vents

Baby Slings

Tiny Baby Jenetia Krole

GalenxSinestra / Alloy

*HORRIBLE ELDRITCH SCREAMING*

(The entire Chaos Kitten TTS AU that spawned): Puppy Baby Gus Perturabo tinkering with Custodes armour Catboy Kitten Confident, Done-With-All-Your-Shit Kitten

(The entire Pacific Rim AU that also spawned): The Marshall's Ridiculous Amount of Children Murder!Ra Feels Music Night The 'Janitors'

(The entire daemon/His Dark Materials AU that spawned) Mama Birb Aquila Eglantine 'Egg' the Ostrich Cagebreaker Oh God They're How Big Lotara Sarrin's Angry Weasel Death Guard Flamingos Skeleton Puppies Milimetre-Centimetre

[primatechnosynthpop]

Saw an ask game related to WIPs and it reminded me that I don't actually have anything on the go at the moment, however I'm always rotating ideas in my head and have several things on the proverbial backburner, so how about you guys ask if you're curious about any of these concepts:

Gloom Eclipse (working title for the convoluted Ernest fanfiction I mentioned the other day)- a session of camp counselor-ing ft. as many characters as I can possibly include is interrupted when Ernest starts getting possessed by a villainous alter-ego

There are no Heroes left in man- in which Shanti Suresh has secretly been alive this whole time but Mohinder finds this out in a less-than-ideal way because it's also a Mega Man 3 reference

Meguca on the Rock (I've talked about this idea approximately one million times but I can always say more)

Affections Touching Across The Streams (I've also talked about this one extensively but I don't think you guys were paying enough attention)

Yet another NKotR au that I don't have a name for but this time they're monsters and my main sources of inspiration are corny tv shows and bdg's abba halloween cover album

PMMM × Watchmen crossover wherein Dr. Manhattan can sense Homura messing with the timeline and it's giving him a headache so he zaps her and the rest of the meguca gang back in time, specifically to October 1985 for what he will tell you is no particular reason but secretly he's curious as to whether they can change anything

Save the Cheerleader, Save the Worrell- in which Claire Bennet sees her school's janitor fall off ladders and get electrocuted without sustaining any injuries and begins to wonder if he's like her...

Erschach again but this time they meet when they're both in jail and there's no way it goes anywhere due to circumstances. Probably ends with the gruesome death of at least one Ernest movie side character (which incidentally would also happen in Gloom Eclipse)

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

Ok, but like...

We've seen plenty of cold ass takes on the Superman type character right? Like, ones where he's secretly evil, or turns into a tyrant, or shit like that, usually with some shitty "he had the power, so he used it for evil" reason or some shit, right?

Did we ever get a deconstruction that goes to the exact opposite direction? Like, a realistic Superman like character, in a realistic setting, but still doing good?

Because I think outside of, like, "The Metropolitan Man" Fanfiction and BNHA All Might under a certain light the author isn't probably taking in consideration too busy as he is jerking off on his drawings, we never really got this.

Ok, here's the character:

We have to take in consideration 3 things:

1) The character can hear and see everything, everywhere on the planet. It's a commonly less used thing in these deconstruction unless they try to use it for creepy reasons, but is a thing. Imagine someone aware of every horror, every joy, every thing that is happening in the world all the time.

Dr. Manhattan kind of does it yes, but it led him to Apathy, imagine if it led to the opposite direction. You can hear every cry for help in the world, but instead of falling to despair, you will save as many as you can.

2) Super Speed. The character is aware of everything, now he needs to find a way to reach it. It's a common complaint about speedsters characters that some of their enemies wouldn't possibly be any issue if they just kept speeding around without stopping to make a dumb quip to them. This character can hear every single burning building on the planet, and is on a tight schedule as they are, so of course they don't stop talking smack to a guy armed with a fancy gun.

3) The least spoken about aspect of the character: the secret identity. Let's say you are constantly working 24/7 on saving the world, constantly on super speed, trying to stop as many atrocities as you can. How do you sleep and eat, knowing every hour every SECOND you waste on yourself someone in the world is dying? What we'd have here, is a hero with no name or costume, no fame, a literal blur going around the world at super speed and committing miracles on people in need.

This is the perfect Holy Providence metaphor honestly. No one ever wrote about it. A character so selfless they immolate themselves to the cause, no identity, no name, no glory, just a workaholic speedster burning fast and bright.

How long would they last? How long before sleep, hunger, death claims them? This is the deconstruction, this is the real deconstruction goddammit, a Superman Character aware all the time that if they so much as took a break one day countless people would die and they would feel it's their fault.