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sserpente · 3 years

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Seeds of Doubt

Synopsis: Months and months after grieving in your home realm Asgard, when you find out that Loki, the man you had promised to marry one day is still alive, you accompany Thor to Earth to bring him back to his senses. Your strong feelings for one another overwhelm you and you join the God of Mischief on his conquest to become a fearsome king. Together, you survive the strongest storms. Together, you win every battle. Together, you rule Midgard. As the sceptre’s steel grip on you becomes stronger and stronger, both Loki and you fall into a tyrannical frenzy feeding off of the fear of your mortal subjects and only once the sceptre is taken out of your reach do you begin to doubt your ways. What will be stronger in the end? Will it be the power of the mind stone… or your unconditional love?

A/N: Here it finally is! This is the 20k Follower Special! It’s a personalised Imagine written for @nebulousfishgills who won! ♥ The Reader in this story has a name, a specific appearance, traits and characteristics, so it’s a little different than usual! Enjoy, everyone! ♥

Words: 10469 Warnings: Loki wins!AU, Dark!Loki, Dark!Reader, Dom!Loki, mentions of slavery, violence, murder and gore; torture, dystopian universe, smut, dub-con, angst, mild exhibitionism

“Where is he?” Your voice echoed through the hall like a mother’s desperate scream for her child. They found him. Hysteria spread in your chest like a parasite, your feeble attempts to swallow down your worry for the man you loved all but fruitless. Your green cape—a homage to Loki—fluttered behind you like you were riding a tidal wave ready to destroy everything in its path. Perhaps you were. Perhaps today was the day you were going to hold the people who wronged him accountable for it and perhaps soon, you would finally hold each other again.

His death had ruined you. Day in and out, Frigga would find you crying in the library grieving the love of your life all the while Thor undid the damage they blamed on Loki, hiding in the very same spot he had spent most of his time in to read in peace, knowing that his tactless brother would hardly seek out a place of pure knowledge and wisdom.

The Queen knew better than to tell. Heads would roll if the kingdom found out about your tears, regardless of how inseparable Loki and you had always been. No one but him had ever seen you cry and you took pride in keeping it that way.

As of right now, your concern and anger overwhelmed the numbing sadness. Had you not overheard the einherjars’ heated conversation about the lost prince having returned from the dead and wreaking havoc somewhere you could not be a part of it, you might have never learned that Loki was alive until they brought him back and… and what?

Something was wrong, you could feel it in the very core of your being. Clenching your fists, you barged further into the throne room unannounced, ignoring the weak protests of the guards. Each of your steps was confident, calculated—even though there was a part of you that was on the verge of tears.

“Amnerys…” Thor spoke your name as if it belonged to a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar.

“Where is he, Thor?!” You spat through gritted teeth, narrowing your blue eyes at him.

The God of Thunder took a deep breath. “He is on Earth.”

“Midgard? What is he doing on Midgard?”

“Heimdall witnessed him entering the realm through a portal and slaughtering innocents. He means to rule the mortals as their king.” Odin said. Your heart skipped a beat. Loki… your sweet, loving, caring, perceptive and mischievous Loki, your mirror…

“This is not right. Loki would not… not like this.”

“It matters not,” Odin continued unfazed, “Thor will be sent to Midgard to put an end to his childish schemes and he will face trial for the damage and chaos he has caused across Yggdrasil.” No, he will not. You glared at him. Had you treated him differently, he would never have been tempted to throw a foreign realm into an absolute monarchy in the first place.

“I demand to come with him.”

“You, Amnerys? You wish to accompany Thor to Earth?” Incredulousness swung in Odin’s voice, his white eyebrows raised ever so slightly. He clenched his spear when you stood your ground, lifting your chin as if nothing was about to stop you—and nothing was, as a matter of fact.

“You know who he was to me. This is the least you owe me, your majesty.”

~*~

Odin knew. He knew you were not to mess with and he knew that it was solely Loki’s death that had kept you at bay. He would never admit it but your intelligence intimidated him. You could be dangerous if only you wanted to. Odin had learned during your early childhood already that keeping you close to the palace meant to remain safer than banishing you to a foreign realm where you would plot revenge until he fell. An eye for an eye. You would only ever treat the people who wronged you like that.

Dark magic was still sizzling in your blood when the clouds spat you both out and sent you flying through the crisp air, right until Thor slung his arm around your waist and brought his hammer down into utter nothingness, enveloped by heavy rainclouds and blinding lightning bolts in the distance.

You hit the roof of an aeroplane or something of the like. Mortal technology was beyond your comprehension, for neither Loki nor you required a machine to fly if you could simply transform into a bird and take to the skies.

“Don’t back down now, hammer boy.” You yelled across the stormy wind. Thor shot you a meaningful look, even more so when the hatch opened and you both jumped.

Loki. His eyes widened when his brother marched towards him like a bilgesnipe all the while an invisible force appeared to rip your heart right out of your chest only to mend it with the soft hands of relief. Loki’s gaze met yours, blue locking with blue and your souls intertwining like eager fingers.

Thor jumped and you followed, leaving the dumbfounded mortals behind.

Your digits were tingling with seidr as you landed on the cliff, your nails digging into the relentless rock to your feet. Thor was nowhere to be seen, not until you heard his battle cry in the distant forest. Odin would have expected you to help him but that was not what you were here for. You only had eyes for him.

“Loki…” His lips parted and several painful heartbeats passed in which he observed you like the antique paintings in the palace library. Doubtfully. What was it he expected to see? Your grief had made your round face grow older and your skin even paler than it already was and yet, you were still the same woman with blue eyes and those chestnut brown hair he used to love burying his fingers in.

“Are you real?” His voice was weak, wary. Frowning, you stepped closer to him, close enough for him to reach out and touch you. Loki was frozen on the spot like an ice sculpture in the deepest winter of Jötunheim.

“What? Of course I’m real.” You never noticed the tears swimming in your eyes until you took one final step and lifted your chin to look him in the eye. You were tall, taller than the average mortal woman and still, Loki towered above you like a true king. Like the true king he used to be before Odin and Thor drove him to attempted suicide.

He looked older, and colder. Worn out. Your voice was but a mere whisper, your palm cupping his right cheek. “What happened to you?”

Loki swallowed, making you gasp when his hand wrapped around your wrist. The moment he blinked was the moment you threw yourself into his arms. Inhaling his unique scent, this delectable mixture of molten metal, ice and leather, you pressed your face against his chest with your eyes closed, bathing in his presence and his touch, both of which you had missed more than anything in all of the nine realms.

The first, desperate sob escaped your lips when he hugged you back and rested his chin on your shoulder, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I missed you so much… I thought I had lost you forever.”

“You did not.” He replied, his lips against your chestnut hair.

“Why… why did you not contact me? Where were you?”

“Contacting you would have put you in danger. It was for the best you believed me dead.”

“Was it?” You raised your voice. “Was it really? Do not patronise me, Loki, you know very well I can hold a candle to you.”

“Yes…” He pondered. “I know that.” Silence. Uncomfortable and peaceful at the very same time, you both stood there as if there was a canyon between you, lost time you had to make up for.

“Have you got any idea how much I suffered without you?” You continued, your voice shaking.

His expression hardened. “Did Odin harm you?”

“No. No, he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me. I was mourning, Loki. When you died… a part of me died with you and now… now I feel like it is coming back to me.”

His blue eyes locked with yours. “Join me.”

“W-what? Loki… I came to take you home with me.”

The God of Mischief shook his head bitterly. “Asgard was never truly my home, now was it?”

“It’s the place you grew up in, the place you know better than any other… the place where you met me. Is that not enough? Odin will not live forever. We will be free, Loki.”

“Yes,” he breathed hoarsely, “We will be free. With this.” Seidr tickled his palm, enveloping his hand in a beam of green light to reveal the sceptre.

“He will have me executed for this—you know this.”

“But you don’t want this. Midgard… why would you want to rule the mortals?”

Loki did not respond and yet his glance spoke volumes. Something is wrong, I can feel it.

“Why won’t you tell me?” You chirped, hot tears worsening your sight once more. If your cheeks were wet and reddened, you never noticed. Then, his expression hardened once more.

“But I am. This is it, my sweet Amnerys, my triumph. I will rule, I will be powerful and I will prove myself a worthy king. Is this not what we always dreamed of as children?”

“It is. Loki, it is… but…” But what? He was back. Loki was alive and you could not care less about the mortals’ fate if only he would never leave your side again. Loki was your soulmate and you were his.

This was wrong. You knew it was wrong and yet… the urge to give yourself to him rose with every single heartbeat.

“Join me.” He repeated. A disarming smirk played on his lips, even though it did not quite reach his eyes. “Be my queen.”

You gasped for air, your hesitation dissolving like moist fog in a spring forest. By the time Thor returned with the mortal wrapped in metal, you had gone.

~*~

5 years later

Loki chuckled at the words he himself had written, his fingers entangled with yours and his thumb stroking the back of your hand. Propping his chin up with his free hand, he watched the hilarious play unfold on the small stage he’d had built. The actors were sweating, yet a look into their terrified and helpless eyes proved it was not the warm stage light increasing their body temperature.

Loki had executed three actors over the past week because they had failed to please him and play their part convincingly. Naturally, they had all played the parts of Thor, albeit a humiliated and weak version of the God of Thunder who was currently in exile.

You still remembered the day of victory like it was yesterday, the adrenaline and the rush of power coursing through your veins like liquid fire. The Chitauri had overpowered the Avengers almost too soon for your entertainment. A few of them, Thor, the redhead Natasha Romanoff and the green beast they called the Hulk remained alive, plotting revenge and assassinations.

Not one month went by in which Loki and you did not publically execute a hitman or a hitwoman, and yet their feeble attempts to murder their king and queen were all but pathetic. Only the fewest made it past the heavily guarded entrance doors of what used to be Stark Tower and now posed as a striking palace you called your new home. Midgard was not so bad, after all.

Terrorising its people was quite fun, actually and thanks to Loki’s sceptre, getting them to bend to your will was not only fun but way too easy and convenient. The God of Mischief had soon gotten rid of the leaders the mortals called their would-be queens, kings and presidents anyway. Those who had resisted were now rotting away several feet below the earth.

Oh yes, the sceptre was truly a most marvellous object. You fancied a foot massage? The sceptre would convince the helpless mortal in charge of gardening the roof terrace. You wished for a special food delivery? Anything was possible with the mind stone. They were so easy to manipulate, so easy to control and undermine, to step on like a boot would step on an ant. It was fun. Nothing less did those petty and ignorant mortals deserve after polluting their own planet to the point of death and destruction. They were paying the price for it now.

In your youth, years and years had gone by on Asgard where you would study the powerful stones until you knew all of its secrets. The Tesseract was gone—Loki had failed to tell you whom he had given it to after the successful invasion of the Chitauri, nonetheless, as long as you still had the sceptre, you were not going to complain. It felt like the mind stone was connecting you two, wrapping a steel rope around your love for one another. Love which you never failed to act on at any given opportunity, for your days were mainly spent cuddling and, quite frankly, fucking on every possible surface of Stark Tower, having luxurious dinners and Loki sending terrified mortals to buy you expensive gifts and jewellery.

The humans feared you and unlike what you had expected from yourself, you were enjoying it. You were bathing in their terror, their anxiety and their tears, even their blood—metaphorically speaking—especially after Loki put you in charge of labour distribution.

What was the play about again? Snapping yourself out of your trance, you sighed, even more so because Loki’s hand had discreetly disappeared under your dress under the table, his thumb caressing your clit. There was no need for underwear here, after all.

“He is positively the most unenthusiastic Thor of the whole week.” You choked out when he slipped two fingers inside of your warmth, his free hand coming up to stroke your pale arm. “He is boring me.”

“Is he now? I believe the reason for your boredom is that I have not yet sentenced him to death. He is rather delightful. Look at how much he is shaking.” He chuckled. “He is trying so hard to appear devoted. He will live, for now.”

A moan escaped your lips when he curled his fingers inside of you, repeatedly stroking your g-spot. Loki chuckled once more. “Oh, what is it, my sweet Amnerys? Will you come for me? Will you come undone before all these people?”

Slaves were positioned to either side of the long table. If they knew what Loki was doing to you right now, they’d do well to keep their mouths shut and pretend they did not notice and the actors on stage were too caught up in their own panic to realise. Whyever not? You moaned once more. No one would know and if there was something Loki wanted, then he would get it anyway. That included your orgasms.

“I… I will…” You whispered, blood biting at your pale cheeks. He raised his eyebrows slightly, a mischievous smirk growing on his lips. His thumb applied more pressure, making you throw your head back into the cushioned backrest of your throne. By the time you let go and let pleasure consume you, Loki had lost all interest in the play. His blue eyes were fixed on you and your sweet whimpers, his heart pounding fast in his chest upon realising one too many times that you belonged to him.

“My queen…” He purred, helping you ride out your orgasm all the while you attempted, miserably, to keep a straight face. It was then the slaves in the room began to clap and the actors on stage bowed, relieved it was over.

“You are dismissed. Get out of my sight.” Loki barked. You giggled at the way they almost fell off the stage, hurrying to get away from you two.

“They are like lambs,” you remarked, still panting. “Like innocent lambs and we’re the wolves.”

“Hmm… lamb sounds like an excellent idea for dinner, would you not agree?” He hooked his index finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him—not that you had wanted to look away anyway. The remaining mortals in the room knew better than to wait for an order. Without a word, they rushed towards the kitchen to prepare the meal—regardless of how they would acquire a lamb.

Then, finally, Loki’s hand retreated from under your dress, his digits coated with your juices. Your lips parted when he brought them to your mouth, having you suck them clean which you did with no hesitation.

“I have to leave New York for a few days tomorrow.” He said quietly, his gaze fixed on your lips wrapped around his fingers. You released him with a silent smack to pout.

“Without me?”

“Yes, my love. There have been concerning reports of riots in New Jersey. Now we cannot have that, can we?”

“No… of course not.”

“I shall be back soon. You will rule this meagre place just fine without me until I return. You know how to put the mortals in their place, no?”

You giggled again. “I do.”

“That is my queen. I trust you, my sweet Amnerys.”

~*~

I trust you, my sweet Amnerys. You smiled. You were the only one in the nine realms that the infamous God of Mischief trusted. Even a few days without him would be hell. You would handle the kingdom well, there was no doubt about that and yet… you already longed for him to hold you in his arms again. Throwing back the satin green covers of the huge king-size bed the two of you slept in, you climbed off the soft mattress all but naked, your smile widening when your blue eyes fell on the golden fountain pen Loki had gifted you, along with a bouquet of blue roses, your favourite flowers—one of his first gifts, back on Asgard when you were only five-hundred years old, right before you had run off like children to practice magic with Frigga. So young, so naïve, so in love.

Loki had always been so gentle, so considerate… your smile faded. He had changed though, had he not? His behaviour towards you was no different in the slightest bit, but even though he radiated dominance like a radioactive gemstone, you wondered why it was only now you realised how cruel he had become. The humans were shivering with fear when they spoke to him, barely able to kneel properly for their trembling robbed them of their balance. And what about you? Were you not inflicting the same amount of pain and suffering?

You scoffed. Where were these thoughts coming from? This was ridiculous, right? You were a queen, Loki’s queen, and you were together and happy. It mattered not if the mortals lived in agony for this cause… only it did.

Your lips parted. When was the last time Loki and you had spent a peaceful day together outside, without anyone attempting to assassinate you? Without anyone quivering in fear of what might happen to them if they displeased you?

When… when had you become like that? You swallowed thickly. Loki had left earlier this morning. You were not going to sulk away in his absence, now were you? He had left you in charge for a reason and you would make him proud.

“Y-your majesty?” It was one of the maids, standing in the doorframe like she was about to be sacrificed to the Norns and hence ripping you out of your thoughts with brute force, making you drop the fountain pen back on the desk and spin around.

“Don’t you know how to knock, you silly girl?”

“I… I did, your majesty.”

“What is it?” You barked.

“There… there has been a brawl on the street right in front of the Tower. The guards have told me that two… two men were fighting over a stolen loaf of bread.”

You rolled your eyes. Well, theft was a crime and it was going to have to be dealt with.

“I am to let you know, I wasn’t going to let them in just in case you were not decent yet… which… which you aren’t, so I was…”

“Get me my morning robes,” you cut her off. “I shall get freshened up and meet the culprits in the throne room.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The maid nodded and hurried away quickly but even the hot shower you took before she returned did not succeed in washing away the seeds of doubt in your mind. Something was wrong. It was the very same thought you had harboured back when you had first found Loki again after his attempted suicide. It felt like ages away now and yet… you remembered your concerns like they’d been keeping you awake only yesterday.

When you entered the throne room an hour later, the two men were quivering, one of them crying even and the fight they had had over a mere loaf of bread—pathetic—all but forgotten. You tilted your head as you raised your eyebrows and made yourself comfortable on Loki’s throne.

“Well?” You spat.

“My q-queen, w-we are so sorry. I-I just… I need to f-feed my family. We have been living in p-poverty after K-King L-L-Loki shut down m-my b-business. T-the oil factory?”

“The oil factory that kept polluting the seas, you mean? Killing the fish, contaminating all of your drinking water, making you all die even faster?” You scoffed. “Perhaps now you know what the fish must have felt like.”

“N-no, I-I mean… y-yes. I… r-realise my mistake but my… my family, they had nothing to do with it. I need to f-feed them. My w-wife s-suffers from severe social anxiety, she is unable to work. O-our children… we are going to starve to death. W-we… I would have paid for the loaf if only I could have, all I want is to k-keep my f-family alive!” His last words were swallowed by pathetic sobs. The urge within you to roll your eyes grew with every passing second and yet, for some peculiar reason and for the first time in years, you felt your heart clench with something you almost did not recognise anymore. Compassion.

This man had not stolen out of spite or malice. He had stolen out of desperation. The other man, you presumed, must have been the vendor then. He too now feared for the worst for causing a scene. The punishment for theft was execution by dismemberment. Fingers first, arms next, lastly the head. It was a surprisingly effective way to keep the robbery rate at a minimum.

“W-Will I… will you have me killed, my queen?”

You took a deep breath. Whatever it was that overcame you, Loki would not be pleased. But this man had not truly committed a crime, now had he? It was a loaf of bread, for Heaven’s sake!

“No. Now get out of my sight and you,” you pointed at another maid, “have that bread replaced for the vendor.”

One of the maids had once called you “ruthless” and “dangerous”. Loki had had her executed for her disrespectful behaviour and gossiping behind your back. As of today, however, you were wondering if she was right. The maid who had caught you off guard earlier this morning, she used to be a Mathematics student, you knew that from when you had taken her belongings back at her arrival to see if she had anything you liked. She did, as a matter of fact. A beautiful emerald stone necklace reminding you of Loki’s colours. You had barely worn it since, it was more the principle of being able to simply take what you wanted. Not to mention what the mortals were to expect if they resisted you. As if on cue, your seidr tickled your fingertips, once more reminding you of Loki.

Tricks and pranks you had always enjoyed together but this? You did not want to give up the life you had, did not want to give up Loki because what was done was done. He ruled Midgard now, with you by his side, you could not have one thing without the other.

But when… when exactly had you begun to doubt that a kingdom drowning in blood, tears and hard labour was not what you wanted after all? After everything Loki had gone through? He deserved happiness, he deserved to rule but not… not like this.

You growled. “Run me a bath.” You ordered, avoiding looking at your shivering maid.

“Y-yes, o-of course, Your Majesty. Would you like a bath bomb, too? I… I had them brought to the Tower for your baths. They are with… with lemon tea, your favourite scent.”

Really? You meant to say. Instead, you froze her in place with your scrutinising gaze. Your expression uncontrollably softened when you met her terrified and tear-stricken eyes. “Thank you.”

The maid’s eyes widened. “O-Oh! Y-You’re welcome, my queen. I… I will also prepare your favourite wine for you.”

Well… She doesn’t do this because she likes you or respects you, a reproachful voice in your head whispered. She does it because she’s afraid that you will kill her if she so much as breathes in your direction at the wrong moment.

~*~

Loki had made sure to have all of your personal belongings, along with your beloved fountain pen, brought to Asgard. Stacked away, somewhere in this gorgeous bedroom, were your old books too. Books that you had studied so intently and so often that they were on the verge of falling apart. Most of them were about the Infinity Stones and their creation.

You could not shake off the feeling that your subconscious was trying to tell you something—yet all you knew was that the answer was hidden in between the lines of your books. It had to be. Seeds of doubt had clouded your mind after Loki had gone, alas once he returned… you had felt more powerful than ever.

And now, something was keeping you down like a heavy blanket of snow on Jötunheim.

“One of the maids was caught snooping around in our bedroom last night, did you know?” Loki said casually when he entered the room, his armour melting off of his body to reveal a pale but well-defined body. Distracted, you blinked, losing all focus on your books.

“Which one?”

“You know the girl with the brown hair who spends most of her time in the kitchen. Only the Norns know what she is doing in there when it is not meal time.” He began to smirk, bending down to kiss you gently.

“Would you like to have her?”

You grinned. “With pleasure. I don’t wish to kill her though.” You replied. Loki frowned. “She is one of our best cooks! Let us torture her a little and punish her for invading our privacy like that. If she has not learned her mistake by then, we can still kill her.”

Loki sighed. “Well then. As you wish, my queen. Now come to bed. I wish to feel myself inside of you.”

~*~

You laughed, hysterically almost, when the maid screamed. Your fingertips were tingling with seidr, one of your hands clutching Loki’s sceptre. Pain distorted the girl’s face as she cowered on the ground before you, trembling to the point she would be unable to stand on her own accord. Her eyes were glowing blue, the sceptre’s influence clouding her mind.

Power rushed through your veins, from the mind stone into your arm and through your entire body, making you feel invincible.

Loki chuckled behind you. If you kept going for much longer, the nosey maid would die after all. But oh, playing with the sceptre was just too much fun.

“Go on. Hold your arm into the flames.” You commanded, nodding your head over to the chimney. The fire was crackling peacefully, the warmth spreading all over the throne room. The maid’s lower lip, chewed on to the point it was bleeding, was shaking. You sincerely hoped there was still a part of her knowing what was going on, knowing what she was being forced to do and yet, without any hesitation, she crawled over to the fireplace, stretched out her left hand and held it straight into the flames.

Her ear-piercing screams echoed through the room like sharp needles stabbing your skin and from the corner of your eye, you could see the other slaves in the room swallowing thickly, forced to watch the horror unfolding before their eyes as a lesson that would surely not fail its impact.

“See… who plays with fire will likely burn themselves.” You spat through gritted teeth, albeit with a dangerously sweet voice. Then, before she could utter a single word, you knocked her out, hitting her hard on the head with the blunt end of the sceptre.

She would not need any more mind control when she woke up and yet, the moment the sceptre struck her, a painful sting tore through you, her physical agony turning into mental torment for you. For just a brief moment, you saw a young, innocent girl who had been robbed of her entire life to serve you and Loki as a mindless slave to be punished severely if she dared to step out of line.

You blinked, stumbling back a few steps to chase away the atrocious feeling in your guts, crashing straight into Loki. He frowned, steadying you, and took the sceptre from your hand in response. The moment it left your grasp, the sensation grew even worse. What was wrong with you?

“Are you quite alright, my love?” Loki whispered, quiet enough only for you to hear it. You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I feel a little dizzy, is all. Let me go lie down for a bit—and tell the maid to prepare us supper with salmon when she awakes.”

The God of Mischief was still frowning by the time you fled from the throne room and retreated to your shared chambers.

Heavens, what in the nine realms was going on? Staggering over to the window, you gaped outside to take in the beautiful skyline of New York City and rubbed your eyes. It almost felt like you had been seeing the world in black and white and, for some dubious and peculiar reason, the colours were now slowly pouring back into your perception. It scared you.

You were not surprised when Loki entered the bedroom not soon after you had stormed out, finding you biting your nails nervously—which was something you had never down before.

“Perhaps you should tell her about supper yourself. She is even more terrified of you than she is of me, my queen.” He chuckled, stroking over your hair as he approached you. When you only sighed with hesitation sparkling in your eyes, Loki’s lips parted.

“You are unwell.”

“I’m fine, I…”

“You are not. Should I call for a healer?”

“They’re called doctors here.” You replied weakly.

“I do not care what they call them as long as one of them helps you, my love. I will not have you suffer.”

“Perhaps it is my cycle, Loki. I am fine. Let us—“

There was a sudden tumult in the throne room that interrupted you both. Loud gasps and even screams became audible with a start, almost as if a wave of relief washed over the entire staff… well, your slaves.

“Sire! Sire! Help!” Alarmed, the both of you exchanged a look. Your heart sank to your boots when you hurried back into the throne room and were greeted by an assassination commando.

“Loki. Amnerys. It’s Game Over. Stand down.” Red dots in your field of vision blinded you when you came to a halt, laser pointers, so you figured, belonging to heavy machine guns aimed directly at you two and before you… Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner and, much to your surprise, Thor.

“Chloe… take the elevator downstairs, someone will be waiting for you there. And take all the others with you.” Loki glared at her. It was the maid Thor had addressed and if looks could kill, the poor girl would have dropped dead this instant. You should have killed the stupid wench after all. She had been spying on you all along, catching glimpses of moments where you would be unprepared… Both Loki and you growled.

“Thor… what a lovely surprise.” The God of Mischief announced then, arrogantly lifting his chin. “Have you at last decided to see for yourself what I have done to your precious Earth? Is it not better to keep the humans under control like this, to keep them from destroying their own planet?”

“By enslaving them and working them to death? I don’t think so, Loki. This is madness.”

“Perhaps. But so is you coming here.” His expression hardened. “You have signed your death warrant, brother.”

“Not this time. Our father—“

“Your father!” Loki spat.

“We did not want to do this, Loki. But you left us no choice. You must be stopped. Both of you.”

“Skip the reunion speech, Thor…” Natasha muttered. You snarled at her all the while holding on to Loki’s arm. What did he mean by no choice? What had he planned?

With your heart in your mouth, you soon found your seidr tickling your fingertips, ready to fling them all straight into the nearby wall to listen with delight how several of their bones would break in the process.

When you turned your head back to Loki, he gave you a barely visible nod. It was in the very moment you sent both Natasha and Bruce flying through the throne room with but a flick of your hand that Thor called for his beloved hammer—only it was nothing like you remembered it anymore. It was enveloped in orange fire, its flames licking high up into the air, ready to devour. Blood Orange. There was only one being in this universe who was able to create such indestructible and powerful flames—Raskk, the highest fire demon from Muspelheim.

If Thor intended to use his hammer against Loki… as a Frost Giant, he would be dead before it dawned. Surely, your heart had now stopped beating altogether.

“Loki…”

The God of Mischief growled in response. His hand found yours, fingers entangling and before you knew it, he materialised the sceptre just in time to catch his brother off guard. The both of you teleported.

Knowing how much harm Raskk’s fire was able to do to your husband and king, something inside of you snapped. If they found him again… they would kill him for sure.

You felt broken and mended at the very same time. Like a thread cut in two with a pair of sharp scissors, your vision cleared to finally reveal all the colours drained from your eyesight for so long. Breathing heavily, you gasped for air in a desperate attempt to fight off a panic attack.

“Amnerys…” Loki caught you in his arms before your shaking knees hit the floor of the shabby motel he had brought you to, an inconspicuous place you had discovered a while back on the hunt for electricians to maintain what used to be Stark Tower. Loki had done well to remember the tacky place in the suburbs. You would be safe here until you could come up with a plan.

The truth was, Thor’s hammer, strengthened by Raskk’s blood orange fire, had caught you both off guard. Loki had expected any form of resistance from his brother—not, however, that he would try and end his life in such a brutal and excruciating way.

Your fear for Loki’s life… it had broken the influence of the sceptre. You saw it so clearly now… how it had been the weapon all along, dragging you down a rabbit hole so dark it had blinded you.

“I… I…” Unable to speak, you allowed him to scoop you up into his arms like a bride. Your thoughts were too tangled up to follow the harsh commands he barked at the poor receptionist behind the desk in the foyer, only dared to whimper once he had closed the door behind you.

He put you back on your feet, ensuring you would not simply drop like a marionette. “Amnerys, speak to me. Are you in pain?”

It took you another moment to pull yourself together. With a deep shaky breath, you locked your eyes with his.

“What have we done?” You whispered, your lower lip shaking. “Loki, what have we done…”

“What?”

“What have we done… the slavery, the torture, the murder… Loki… we turned Midgard into another Helheim.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“Don’t you see? It’s… the sceptre. It’s been the sceptre all along… it… it brainwashed us like puppets!”

“You are confused.”

“I am not. Loki, listen to me, please!”

He shushed you, pressing you against his chest. With his heartbeat against your cheek, you could not help but relax into his arms, your rapid breathing calming down again—if only a little.

“We are safe here. Relax, my queen.” His lips found your neck, planting feather-light kisses on your sensitive skin in an attempt to distract you further. His mouth on you did not fail its effect. Your eyes fell shut with a sigh as you went limp in his arms, albeit reluctant to allow him to seduce you now of all times.

“Loki… w-we shouldn’t… not now… we have to… Raskk’s fire, we… you h-have to get rid of the sceptre. Thor will listen to reason once he learns—“ You were cut off by his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth, forcing you into a kiss that stole away your breath. Loki pushed you down on the hard mattress of the motel room, one of his hands capturing your wrists to pin them down above your head, rendering you completely helpless.

His sheer strength overwhelmed you and despite your Asgardian blood, you were no match to Loki… at least not when he had you on the brink of utter submission and with pleasure coursing through your blood, clouding your mind as your body kept pleading for more and more of his pampering.

“Loki… please. Loki, listen. We have to… this isn’t right… Thor… P-please… get rid of the s-sceptre, you’ll see it’s…”

“Amnerys, stop it!” He growled with a start. His dark and chastising glare sent both fear and excitement through your veins. “What is it with your obsession with the sceptre? It is making us powerful, is it not? You, my dear, are the one with the insatiable interest in the Infinity Stones and their workings.”

“I was wrong… Loki, I was wrong, we were wrong, I…” You groaned when his digits found the hem of your dress and pushed it up your pale thighs to give himself access to your wet folds, your whole body shivering the moment his fingertips brushed against your lips and finally, parted them to reveal your throbbing clit to his greedy eyes.

“L-Loki… Loki, l-listen to me…”

Part of you wanted him to stop, to talk to him rationally but… oh… it just felt too good. Your blue eyes rolled to the back of your head, your nails digging into his naked back. You hadn’t even noticed him removing most of his clothes.

“Oh, I am listening. I will be listening to your moans and whimpers as you come undone for me, my sweet Amnerys.” He paused, indeed eliciting a defeated whine from you. “Tell me you want me inside of you.” He whispered into your ear, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine.

You swallowed thickly. You did. Your quim was aching to be filled by him, to have him mark you with his Jötun seed and make you his like he had done so often in the past and yet… was now really the time for pleasure? Now that your husband’s life was at stake? Now that you had realised the harm you had done to this planet, to its people? You were monsters. You had become exactly what Loki had feared to turn into when he had first learned about his true heritage.

Loki made you gasp for air when he slipped two of his long fingers inside of you, curling them at your g-spot and making your back arch.

“Tell me.” He spat through gritted teeth. He was in a frenzy—and you were unable to shake off just how much you loved his dominant side, this side he had developed the very moment Frigga had handed him Gungnir. You were lost. Lost in his embrace, lost in his desire, lost in his love for you.

“I do… I always do…”

He chuckled, content with your response. Freeing himself from his remaining armour with his seidr, he pushed your legs apart meeting only little resistance and positioned himself at your entrance. A moan escaped your lips when you felt his rock-hard cock press against your slick opening, the red tip leaking pre-cum already.

He never let go of your wrists, even when he sheathed himself deep inside of you with but one firm thrust, watching with an animalistic growl how you threw your head back in pure bliss, welcoming him in. His free hand was all over your pale skin, exploring every inch of your tall body.

Your walls clenched around him at once, moulding around him perfectly and unwilling to let go of him again, no, willing him even deeper when he retreated only to plunge back in and claim you thoroughly, fucking you with a steady but firm rhythm stealing not only your breath but all of your senses.

Your mind drifted away from how Loki was still under the sceptre’s control and how it made him more ruthless, more dangerous and more villainous. His lips found yours again to keep you from talking, his strokes getting more and more frantic.

You moaned when his free hand found your clit, massaging it swiftly and applying just enough pressure to send you flying. You tightened around him fast, with his name on your lips like a prayer.

Again and again, his length grazed all of your secret pleasure spots, some of them hidden deep inside of your quim. Loki moved the way he knew he would throw himself off of this delectable cliff of pleasure with you and when you came undone, rhythmically clenching around him and milking him for all he was worth, you instantly triggered his own release.

With but a few more eager thrusts, he emptied himself inside of you, coating your walls with his warm seed of which he shot rope after rope into you. He stilled, his length throbbing hotly inside your cunt as he filled you up.

No less than ten seconds passed, seconds in which you were still pulsing around him, failing to come down from your high and the pleasure and the love you felt for this man as it overwhelmed you once more, even more so when he collapsed on top of you and you inhaled his intoxicating scent.

Another ten seconds and you could Thor’s voice bellow through the lobby. You gasped.

“I shielded this place. The motel owner must have told them. I will tear him apart.” Loki growled and jumped out of bed. Your legs were still shaking from your orgasm, his warm seed dribbling out of you and running down your inner thighs when you stood to follow, enveloping yourself with seidr to get dressed much like Loki had done and followed him—only to stop dead in your tracks when ice-cold realisation hit you. You had only just arrived. There was no way the motel owner had been able to alert the Avengers this fast, let alone reach them when they were out and about to hunt you down.

Your lips parted. “They’re after the sceptre. It’s not the owner, Loki, they’re tracking the sceptre! It must be just like the Tesseract, the stone gives off traceable energies.” And the only reason they had not done so before was proper preparation. And a risky alliance—with Raskk.

The God of Mischief slowed down and glanced at you from the corner of his eye but did not halt. Too angry were his steps leading him back towards the lobby, ready to murder the receptionist despite the unusual alliance Thor had formed with one of Muspelheim’s most dangerous fire demons.

“Loki, stop! Listen to me!” Finally, he obeyed albeit turned around so slowly you feared he might pounce on you like a wild wolf at any moment. “Please. Leave the motel owner alone. We have to get out of here, we…” You gasped once more, your feeble attempt to calm yourself with deep breaths failing miserably. “Leave the sceptre behind.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Leave it behind! Else we have to find a way off-world, Loki. Listen to me, I will not risk you dying at the hand of Raskk’s fire just because you are too keen on satisfying your enormous ego!” You shrieked, clenching your fists so hard your knuckles turned white. Your heart was pounding in your chest so loud you feared his words would be drowned by the blood ringing in your ears.

Loki’s nostrils flared. “I am not leaving our kingdom behind for Thor of all people to overthrow it!”

“Then give me the sceptre!”

“No!” The word was so loud it echoed through the entire dimly-lit hallway, without a doubt giving away your location and you realised in that very moment that he was not going to relent. The sceptre’s influence kept its steel grip on him like an unescapable prison.

Tears formed in your eyes when you swallowed, locking your eyes with his—you had never noticed how the blue colour of his irises had intensified to the point of utter mind control. Whoever was behind this… they would pay for it but for now… for now, you had to save Loki’s life.

“Then go. Take it and leave. I will find you.”

“What?”

“I am going to distract them. Go. You cannot go near Thor’s hammer.” Loki hesitated. His thin lips parted once he understood you meant to give yourself up in order for him to escape.

“You are not leaving my side.”

“Do not argue with me, Loki. You know they will not kill me.”

“No,” he growled, “worse. They will torture you.”

You scoffed. “Do you truly believe that?”

A young man stumbled out of one of the motel rooms, a pathetic whimper escaping his lips when he spotted you both standing in the hallway, and legging it instantly.

“Thor has always liked me, Loki—he knows how much I love you and why I did this.”

“If he is prepared to kill me in the cruellest way possible, what makes you think he will not make you suffer a similar fate?”

“They’re up here! Up here! Avengers! Help!” Loki gritted his teeth. With but one swift hand movement, he shot an energy blast from the sceptre into the panicking young man’s direction. It hit the railing of the stairs with an ear-piercing crack, sending pieces of sharp wood flying through the hallway. Luckily, only one of them hit the man in the thigh, who, screaming in surprise more than agony, almost fell down the carpeted stairs and straight into the Avengers’ arms—one of which had turned into a giant green rage monster.

Loki growled once more when you attempted to push past him, his free hand slipping around your waist. He pressed you close against his strong body in an attempt to teleport you both to safety once more, heeding your advice even if he would never let go of the sceptre after everything it had done for him. You spun around, cupping his face in your hands and kissed him hard.

“Go. Do you not trust your queen?”

His lips parted and he scowled. He had no need for a reply, for he did. He trusted you with his life and by the time the Avengers finally reached you with their weapons raised, only you were left standing there, your fingers tingling with seidr urging to be released to help you survive.

Thor stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, his mortal companions following his actions suit. Your gaze found his glowing hammer spitting Raskk’s fire.

“Amnerys?”

“Hulk? Any moment now.” Widow said surprisingly calm.

“Don’t. Please. I am unarmed.” Lifting both of your hands to prove your intentions, you met Thor’s puzzled expression.

“Where is Loki?” The redhead’s voice was harsh, her glare deadly. You understood now why she was one of Earth’s fiercest assassins and yet, she did little to intimidate you.

“Gone,” you spat in response, “for now. I know where he went. But… but first… we need to talk.”

~*~

Thor buried his hands in his face. “So what you are saying is that this whole time Loki has been under the influence of the sceptre?”

You nodded, shifting on your seat. The Avengers’ hideout was filthy, hidden away in an alley you would have never even set a foot in under different circumstances.

“I have been to. That is why… by the Norns, all those people we killed… all those innocents we tortured… I cannot believe what I have done.” Looking up, your expression hardened with a start. “Loki and I have always been mischievous, you know that. But neither of us would ever have intentionally hurt anyone.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe that, you know.” The Black Widow gave you an incredulous look.

“I agree. What if this is a trick? What if it’s a trap?” Bruce whispered. He was himself again, wearing no more than a pair of ripped jeans that were way too big on him and appeared to swallow up his mortal body whole, making him look even more fragile and meagre than the humans already were. You rolled your eyes. Of course they would not trust you… but then again, you understood. You would not have trusted yourself either, not after everything you had done.

Thor lifted his chin and gave you a warning look. “I have known Amnerys my whole life. She loves Loki, she would do anything for him. I have Raskk’s demon fire—if she is luring us into a trap, my brother will not live long enough to see daylight tomorrow. She knows that… don’t you, Amnerys?”

You swallowed. All of a sudden, all you could muster was a weak “Yes”. Your heart was beating like a steam hammer, your instincts screaming at you to either run or kill. You were with your greatest enemies after all. You were with the very people eager to send your husband to Valhalla, sitting at the same table and drinking tea that might as well have been poisoned.

“If what you are saying is true… then how did you break the sceptre’s influence?” Bruce asked. And it was a good question, one you did not quite know the answer to yourself.

“I am not sure,” you responded, “I had… these strange moments of clarity, a whispering voice in my head telling me to practice caution but once…” You paused, pondering. “Loki was gone. He travelled to New Jersey and he took the sceptre with him, that was the first time I felt these… all these doubts about… about all this.” You motioned around yourself, shame and remorse once more rolling over you like a tidal wave.

“And then?” Bruce probed.

You looked up, your blue eyes once more falling on his oversized jeans. You frowned. “You. I think it was you. All I could think about was how Loki’s life is in danger, how scared I am to lose him… I think this ultimately overwhelmed the power of the mind stone.”

“You know about the Infinity Stones then?”

“Better than you think.”

“What I still don’t understand is what you’re expecting from us now, Amnerys.” Natasha tossed in. “Loki is a criminal and so are you. He will be arrested once we get his hands on him… until Thor can take him back to Asgard, at least.”

Your eyes flew in Thor’s direction. “Odin will have him executed.”

“Not if my mother gets a say in it.”

“You truly believe Frigga will be able to stop him? Face it, Thor, Odin has been looking for an excuse to get rid of him ever since Loki found out about his true heritage. Perhaps he knew. Perhaps he knew that he was still alive somewhere and yet he chose to feign grief.”

Thor opened his mouth to contradict. You cut him off before he could even take a breath.

“Swear to me on your life that no harm will come to him.”

The God of Thunder looked up, meeting your stern gaze with all but resignation and guilt. “Amnerys… I… I cannot swear. I shall speak to Mother and Father, that is all I can promise you to do. You are coming home with us, are you not?”

“Where Loki goes, I go.” It was one of the most sincere truths you had ever spoken.

“So here is what we will do then. We’ll gather the team and you will lead us to Loki, like you promised, we capture him, Thor gets him off-planet. That sounds simple enough. It shouldn’t be too difficult to overpower him now that Min-… Amy…? I’m sorry, what was your name again?” Bruce raised his eyebrows and pointed a finger at you, making you roll your eyes in response.

“Amnerys. My name is Amnerys. Out of mere curiosity… why do you not track the sceptre down again?”

“We could do that eventually but it requires a lot of power. You see, these wires connecting to the…“

“Don’t,” you interrupted, “I have no idea what you are talking about, Dr Banner. It’s electricity, that is all I need to know.”

“Well, yeah… what I’m trying to say is that it will take a lot of time to recharge without cutting the power in the entire city… which would make it even easier for Loki to disappear unnoticed.”

“We never expected you two to separate.”

You scoffed. “I know.” But we will not be for much longer, you added silently.

~*~

Loki was indeed where you had expected him to be. And you had a plan. Centuries ago, the fetid sewers of New York used to be a labyrinth made of beautiful caves and underground rivers—one of which led straight to a secret passageway to Asgard. Loki had discovered it one day, by accident, if anything, for he had been looking for a way to enter Helheim for minerals. Back then, you had been too young to comprehend that Loki had taken you to Midgard a while later.

“Are you sure she’s not leading us straight into an ambush?” Natasha whispered into Thor’s ear. With your heightened hearing abilities, however, she looked to the moist ground quickly when you turned around to raise an eyebrow at her—warningly.

“Trust me,” you spat, “if I had wanted to kill you, you would all be dead already.” You smirked. “Thor is very well aware of how powerful I am.”

Bruce cleared his throat. The sound, much like your voices, travelled through the long and disgusting tunnels seemingly endlessly. “I don’t like this. Where is he?”

“Keep your mouth shut and follow me. Loki’s hearing is as good as mine. And watch your step.” The mud, dirt and brown water to your feet had mixed with garbage only the Norns knew how old. You had already cast a spell to hide your sounds from unwanted ears—you just didn’t want to have to listen to the remaining Avengers expressing their concerns about your person like you were a mischief-maker with no heart or soul. You shook your head silently. They thought the same of Loki, did they not?

Your plan was simple enough. Loki and the sceptre had to be separated, for good. And the best way to do that, if not for your persuasion skills which had failed this time despite how infatuated he was with you, was for the Avengers to do the job for you.

You were not going to let them take him to be executed by Odin. In fact, you would murder them all in cold blood before they even tried.

Now one more turn to the left and then…

Loki would not dare use the sceptre in the sewers due to the underlying danger of collapse; he’d rely on his seidr and his swift fighting skills instead.

You turned around the corner and he looked up as if ripped from a deep thought. His face lit up when you approached him. He stood from his crouching position on the ground and away from the fire he had lit and which was throwing eerie shadows on the wall, and opened his arms for you to embrace him.

You did. A sigh escaped your lips the very second you wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his chest. “I’m sorry…” You whispered.

“Whatever are you sorry for, my queen?”

You glanced up, praying to the Norns that he would take the hint and see the deceit and mischief sparkling in your blue eyes when the Avengers entered one by one, their weapons aimed at the both of you.

Loki’s face fell, his soft expression transforming into a frightening rage. Not directed at you—but at the god he had called his brother for centuries. Staring daggers at Thor, his voice when he spoke was so dark you felt shivers racing up and down your spine.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked you.

“No. I’m fine, Loki.”

“Actually, she took us here.”

“What?”

His eyes met yours again and in this very moment, you wished you had worked harder on your telepathy skills. Loki had introduced you to the art only two decades back…

“I did this for us, Loki. There was no other way anymore.” You mumbled, inhaling his heavenly scent. He had to understand. He had to understand why you were doing things the way you were doing them.

Just trust me, you willed for him to hear in his mind.

But in the end, your unease betrayed your body, whatever happened next happening too fast for you to comprehend. Someone pulled you to the side and whoever it was, their grip felt like steel around your upper arm. There were shouts, screams, sounds of rage and torment, growls and pants and then… then you heard a pair of Asgardian shackles lock in place around Loki’s wrists, the sceptre clattering to the ground with an ear-piercing noise ricocheting through the cave. Just like that, the God of Mischief, eager to avoid the flames dancing on the indestructible metal of Thor’s hammer, was defeated. Or so they were led to believe.

They did not let you carry the sceptre, of course. Natasha Romanoff never took her eyes off of you on the way back to the Avengers’ secret base, wary and vigilant in fear of you turning the tables after all.

Meanwhile, you did not dare look Loki in the eyes, not until you would be alone together again, and part of you even longed to join him in the cell a man called Nick Fury had been working on for months after Loki’s and your triumph and beginning of a tyrannical reign.

“Thank you,” Thor said, observing his brother on the camera they had set up in the cell. He was sitting there on the wooden bench like a Greek statue motionlessly, staring holes into the metal walls with a blank face. There was disappointment, unease and even… even remorse clouding his flawless features like eerie fog on a gloomy day in the woods of Niflheim. “I owe you, Amnerys.”

“No, you don’t. I did not do this for you. I did it for Loki.”

“I know. I still owe you my gratitude.”

“Just remember your promise, Thor.” You only hoped he would not have to act on it anytime soon.

“I will. Good night, Amnerys.”

It isn’t Good night for me, you thought as you watched him walk off. Regardless of how well the remaining Avengers had prepared for this, their security measures were meagre, embarrassing almost. You were quite surprised they had not locked you up as well for the night after all, as a matter of fact. As of right now, the only thing keeping Loki in his cell was the threat of Raskk’s fire. Nothing, whatsoever, that would harm you any further than inflicting a second-degree burn.

The spell you cast that night to shield both Loki and yourself from the cameras was so simple you resisted the urge to laugh out loud as you snuck through the dark and scabby hallways and eventually reached Loki’s cell.

“My love…” You whispered. The Trickster looked up, glaring right through you for a second before finally meeting your blue eyes.

“Thanos…” He began.

“What?”

“His name is Thanos. He was the one who handed me the sceptre. He promised me victory and power in return for the Tesseract. He manipulated me. Tortured me.” Your lips parted. “I wish I had truly died the day I let myself fall off the Bifrost when I subjected to the pain he made me feel.”

“Oh Loki… this is not your fault, none of this is…”

He snorted, gaping at you darkly. “Are you still blaming the sceptre, my queen?”

“Loki…”

“I heard your plea in my mind… and yet you have signed my death sentence, my sweet Amnerys. Did Thor not tell you what will happen once the Bifrost is fully restored?”

“I do. I know exactly what will happen.” You replied as you unlocked the door and swiftly stepped inside. “They will be looking for us. They will tear the nine worlds apart in their search and yet they will never find us. We will be free, Loki. Just us. No thrones, no sceptres, no obligations and rules.”

Loki began to smirk, warming your heart. “We leave it all behind?”

You nodded, reaching out for him so you could teleport together. “We leave it all behind.”

And you would start by planting little seeds of doubt into his mind, seeds that you intended to grow into nothing but unconditional love.

~*~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Head over to my blog to read more of my writing and to find my Kofi link! ♥

203 notes · View notes

imperiuswrecked · 3 years

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To me, it doesn’t make sense to make Magneto the main villain because it has been done so much before and it would connect it so much to the Fox Films. Also I think there is a GREAT laziness in writing Magneto especially in films. He generally didn’t want to kill all humans, subjugate them yes because he doesn’t trust them. Which isn’t a ‘good guy’ move in itself and he slips in and out of.

He legit murdered genocide I think when he was going to kill all humans. Like no.

I also think that the average cinema goer likes Magneto too much… or maybe that is me. It would also require them to recast the most famous faces of the franchises?

Like is anyone going to care if they recast Jean, Scott, Iceman, Rogue, Kitty, Beast even Mystique but Magneto? I don’t know. I have long been a fan of an actual Jewish actor playing Magneto but following Ian McKellan would be difficult for the casual fans to accept. I don’t think Fassbender left such an amazing impression.

Even my most average MCU fans friends (and god they love the MCU 😤 but I see past it) still talk about how much they want to see a Magneto solo film.

To me I would put the focus on their reveal and sentinels. Then again I thought they’ll go through Krakoa stuff. Like it turns out the mutants have been living on this Island etc

With the ‘simpler times’ comment I have to for the sake of my sanity have to think that it was because Pietro knew where he was. Things were clear to him, as much as it hurt he had his sister. The following trauma had not occurred. Again I don’t think this is true but I am trying to reason bad writing. He didn’t doubt his morality but was indebted and controlled. Shitty actions were out of his control.

I don’t read Avengers so I didn’t know he was shelved for so long.

I think the Trial of Magneto is trying to ride on the coattails of Wandavision because even though she’s not a mutant a lot of the internet was wanting Magneto to show up. So what is the best way to get those fans who wanted to see that? Set up a family comic book where they establish the family again because I guess the MCU fans heard they’ve changed their background and themselves didn’t like it.

I see the Trial of Magneto as something poorly thought out as they saw what the audience was interested in. The timeline kind of clashes uncomfortably with Inferno. Which makes me think it was wedged in there to ride the Wandavision train and undo the retcon on the side of the main storyline.

Thank you for reading my essay/rant

Ok so I'm going to first say you have a lot of great thoughts and great on picking up the whole forced feeling. You are right, it does feel wedged in there and it does feel forced because that's exactly what Marvel did.

The Trial of Magneto was supposed to be an X-Factor plot, it was Leah Williams next arc, here's an article link talking about her podcast: link (yes I know it's bleeding cool but I don't have time to listen to the podcast)

Leah Williams tells us that X-Factor was canceled because Leah's pitch for the Magneto/Wanda story for X-Factor, now called Trial Of Magneto, became such a popular pitch at Marvel but they thought the reader numbers for X-Factor wasn't big enough for this story, so they wanted it as a separate comic. And canceled X-Factor #10 rather than seeing it run as originally planned, with the Trial beginning in X-Factor #15. Williams says she only learned about the cancellation of X-Factor when she was writing #9, so as she had to finish the series quickly, squeezing six issues worth of story into those last two issues, calling it "cramped and rushed".

So I'm not a fan of Leah but the way Marvel treats it's writers has always been terrible so this cancellation doesn't surprise me. Could this be about W*ndaVision? It's likely, but it's more likely this has to do with Hickman bowing out. It's no secret literally everyone hated the retcon and I always knew it would be undone but I didn't think it would take 6 years but here we are.

Hickman leaving is a bigger thing, he stated in an interview ( link ) that he had planned Krakoa and X-Men to be a 3 arc story, and he wasn't allowed to move onto the 2nd arc because the clowns at Marvel liked the idea of Krakoa too much and I'm so mad because that's exactly the kinda behavior that annoys me with the fans, them thinking Krakoa is just a fun playground for the mutants to mess around with.

"Oh, plans have changed entirely," Hickman says. "When I pitched the X-Men story I wanted to do, I pitched a very big, very broad, three-act, three-event narrative, the first of which was House of X. And while this loosely worked as a three-year plan, I told Marvel upfront that I honestly had no idea how long the first part would last because there were a lot of interesting ideas that I had seeded that other creators would want to play with, and so, we left this rather open-ended. I was also pretty clear with all the writers that came into the office what the initial, three-act plan was so no one would be surprised when it was time for the line to pivot." Hickman continues, "However, I also knew that I was cooking with dynamite, and it was very possible that what I had written in House of X, and the ideas contained within, was not actually the first act of a three-act story, but something that resonated more deeply and worked more like Giant-Size X-Men, where it would represent a paradigm shift in the entire X-Men line for a prolonged period of time. So, during the pandemic, when the time came for me to start pointing things toward writing the second-act event, I asked everyone if they were ready for me to do that, and to a man, everyone wanted to stay in the first act. It was really interesting, because I appreciated that House of X resonated with them to the extent that they didn't want it to end, but the reality was that I knew I would be leaving the line early."

I'm so MAD because the thing I was predicting, that Hickman would have it come crashing down and everything would be revealed to be terrible and Mutant Death Sex Cult Island wasn't a paradise is never going to happen because the fucking CLOWNS at Marvel don't want him to move past it. I may have my personal gripes about some of Hickman's writing but we can't deny the man wrote one of the best if only the best Marvel Event with Fantastic Four/Avengers/Secret War.

As for the simpler times comment, like I have my theories that I wrote out here, and that's what I think is most likely but I do think Pietro's life has never been easy or simple once his adoptive parents died. Pietro could be drinking to a time before the Brotherhood.

I would love for a Jewish actor to play Magneto and any other characters who are Jewish. I would love for a Jewish writer to be able to write them too. However Ian's performance literally set him in the minds of the people as Magneto, not even Fassbender's bleh one note Magneto could compare. Imo the only reason people liked the younger Magneto was because he was young, handsome (? ig idk i dont simp for him) and they could ship him with young professor X (cowards. where is the old man ship???) But I feel like a new actor could definitely fill the role if they are Jewish and the writing was good.

Magneto's writing in comics... well I just wish we could have a Jewish writer for him. There's some great stuff for him but I feel like characters like him and Doom could be written better by non white/american writers.

Although by today's standards the og X-Men trilogy doesn't hold up I will defend the first two movies with my life simply because after Blade these movies opened up the idea that a good serious, non campy version where characters called Magneto and Cyclops were taken seriously. X2 in my mind was the definitive X-Men movie. Was it totally comic accurate? No, but it doesn't do what the MCU does, it doesn't treat the watcher like they need to have their hand held through all the military propaganda and "hints to the comics". Also side note; the reason no one cared about any of the other X-Men being recast is because all through most of the X-Men movies the focal story point has been Professor X vs Magneto. If they really want people to care about those characters/actors then we would need stories that focused on them. Not like how Storm barely had any character growth or plot in the og X-Men and even young Ororo got mishandled by the script. This is why I feel we should have "origin movies" for the X-Men that don't do what Wolverine Origins did and try to make a whole new cast but instead should use the stories as they are. If it was Kurt's story then we would see him join the X-Men, and have the other actors revolve around that. Same with each of the others, the X-Men work best when they are working off each other and each given enough screen/page time to shine. Unfortunately we all have our favorites, even movies and writers, so those are who are going to be pushed for fans to love.

Thank you for your long rant and sorry for my own long rant/reply.

#xmen #x men #comic talk #xmcu #magneto #erik lensherr #imp answers

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 3 years

Text

@therogueofblood said where's the essay so here it be

Jack McSpringheel is a trope break. or maybe more accurately, an archetype break.

in fiction there's this very prevalent character type that's essentially "cocky dude with snarky attitude who's actually a huge softie and is using a confident persona to hide insecurities" and I'm not complaining about it bc there's a reason it's such a popular trope, but it's very interesting to see (hear, whatever) a character who fits that box but just... slightly to the left.

because the thing that strikes me most about Jack is that he's cocky and sassy, he's also a softie in his own way (that scene in Curse of Fenman my beloved), but he's NOT insecure. at all. he's actually very confident and is the only one of the Legion fam who didn't have much of an existential crisis over the mess the Epoch and Avril had each pulled with their memories/lives -- even in the first stories we hear him in, Benny and Ruth are both trying so hard to figure everything out and put all the pieces together, but Jack is just "yeah so, this is happening. i'd like to do something about it." and he's honestly very chill about the whole thing.

basically, even with all this stuff going on, he seems really confident in his identity (to the point that he's the one to reassure Ruth about hers in Curse of Fenman; yeah, i know, that was partly Gary Russell being Gary Russell but also it's a really interesting characterization moment for both of them) and it's really cool.

(additionally, the theme of identity forms the centerpiece to the entire Legion arc and I kinda love it lol)

also, re: my previous post about Jack being the backbone of the Legion fam, i say that bc of some conversations had with @fortes-fortuna-iogurtum where we were talking about the tensions and individual relationships between the whole group, bc they're dysfunctional as heck for a good long while. everybody has this tension between them: bennybrax because of timeline shenanigans, Peter's just generally closed off to everyone (except Brax, oddly enough, which is an entire other essay, but basically he's a lot less hostile to Brax than he is literally everyone else), we never really hear Brax and Ruth directly interact but i get the impression she's slightly unsure about him?, and all of it means that as a collective group, it's just.... A Hot Mess.

but. i find this really interesting and also slightly hilarious. everybody gets along with Jack (for the most part). and it's 100% because of his dumb, cocky personality. he's literally THEE most non-judgemental character i've ever come across and because he seems very flippant -- while also noticeably caring about his friends despite that -- it sets everybody at ease.

he's not scared off or hurt or offended by how prickly Peter is and i feel like Peter (begrudgingly) respects that on some level -- they actually work REALLY WELL together and we love to hear it

actually HMS Surprise is a really good story where it comes to the characters (oh, huh, i just looked and it's written by Alexander Vlahos. neat) and i love how much it goes to show that Jack's attitude is Not a mask in any way, because he makes no attempt to hide it when he's freaked out. he's actually very genuine, which is another reason he's oddly disarming. (he's lowkey like Narvin where you're like "this is not the type of person i would expect to trust with my deepest secrets but somehow i do??")

also he's kinda the exact type of person Brax needed at his point in his arc bc he's just been yeeted from everything he knows by the alt!Burner and is just trying to build a new life for himself/his new partly accidental family?? and Jack is just like "cool i really don't care abt your scary past or anything i'm gonna throw mad shade on you for ridiculously petty things anyway *proceeds to fall down stairs*" and yeah his rapport with Brax is the funniest thing but also adorable bc my angsty Time Lord garbage fire has a Friend™ (and also it's hilarious. why do i feel like this is how EoG!Brax got treated by the Deca all the time)

and then, i mean Benny acts constantly annoyed at him but i think she really just likes having someone to talk crap about and with XD also back to HMS Surprise, bc if you couldn't tell i heckin love that audio, they actually do care about each other, it's just in that very sibling-y bicker-y way.

TL;DR when i say "Jack is the backbone of this family" what i mean is that because everybody individually has a fairly healthy relationship with him that doesn't necessarily involve or require any of the others, he becomes the centerpoint of the group and almost in a way holds them all together just by virtue of being a nice dude with a fun personality.

and when i say "Jack is a trope break" i just mean that it's really nice and refreshing to have a character with That Specific Peronality Type who's not actually angsty or burying hidden insecurities or w/e (*side-eyes Lance from Voltron Legendary Defender*). and again, to clarify: i don't have any issue with those kind of characters, but sometimes it's a bit too predictable?

in conclusion- *holds up Jack* I just think he's neat :)

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi, do you know of any good vamplock fics? I especially like the ones where John realises what Sherlock is and is like, into it. Tbh anything fluffy is good — I do like some angst but preferably nothing too dark. My favourite one ever is ‘An Acquired Taste’ by kinklock on ao3. Thank you as always for doing god’s work!

Hey Nonny!!

AHHHH Okay. I get asked about Vampirelock a lot, and all I ever offer is a REALLY old and ugly list that needs cleaning up. So you know what? I’m going to finally just... post an updated one with stuff people have suggested to me too. I haven’t really read any other ones since 2018, my personal recs are old. Like I’ve only 3 personal recs, LOL. But as I said, I’m going to go through all my past lists and compile them here so I finally have a nice list to point y’all to, LOL. So, it’s not EXACTLY your request... just check out the tags and make the decision to check out the fic! <3

Love you Nonny!

EDIT: I meant to upload this last month, so... Sorry?? LOL.

VAMPIRES (Dec 2020)

See also:

Vampirelock (Updated June 10, 2018 || Mine)

Johnlock & Bloodplay (bonus Vampires) (ALEXX LIST)

Vampires (ALEXX LIST)

Longer Vampire fics (ALEXX LIST)

A Study in Black by Reapersun (T, 27 Pages || Vampire AU Webcomic || Vampire Sherlock, Hunter John, Case Story, Supernatural Elements) – A Johnlock vampire AU with a bit of occult stuff.

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Bleed Me Out by antietamfalls (E, 87,987 w., 14 Ch. || Vampire AU || Bonding, Vampire Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, H/C, John Whump, Magical Realism) – John isn’t exactly surprised to discover that Sherlock isn't human. His vampirism doesn't pose a problem, even when their relationship gradually grows into something more. That is, until a deadly revelation about John’s blood sends their lives spinning dangerously out of control.

MARKED FOR LATER

The Art of the Blood by Vulgarweed (E, 6,335 w., 1 Ch. || ACD Canon Vampire AU || Past Sherlock/Historical Character, Blood Drinking, Blood Play, Cutting, Hand Jobs, Frottage, First Time, Vampire Kink, Timeline Jumps) – Watson finds a disturbing, barbaric, medically out-of-fashion item among Holmes’s possessions, and simply cannot let it go. How does Holmes happen to own not just any bloodletting kit, but one that once belonged to a great violin master who died before Holmes was born? The answers revealed will change both their lives - forever. Warning for cutting, but not in a mental illness context.

Pulse by SoftTae (E, 6,620 w., 1 Ch. || Vampire AU || Vampire John, Human Sherlock, Dark John, Dub Con, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Blood Drinking, Anal, Light Bondage, Violent Sex, Biting, Vampire Sex, Angst, Preditor/Prey Dynamic) – This was written for a friend who asked for vampire John, and human Sherlock.

Making History by SaraDobieBauer (M, 8,622 w., 6 Ch. || Vampire AU || Season 1, Vampire John, Dark John, Bondage, Dub Con, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes lay unconscious and handcuffed to John’s bed. John had been waiting for this day ever since he’d first met the consulting detective. He'd been waiting for centuries really.

Let's Say I Let You In by kedgeree (E, 9,972 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Halloween, Costume Kink, Est. Rel., Humour, Smut, Vampire Sherlock, Bloodplay, Biting, Romance) – It's Halloween and Sherlock's vampire costume is turning John on, but Sherlock doesn't quite get the idea of a sexy vampire. At least…not at first. Part 4 of the Holidays series

Between the Tongue and the Taste by philalethia (E, 13,290 w., 1 Ch. || Vampire AU || Blood Drinking, Blood Play, Blood and Gore, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Daddy Kink, Daddy Sherlock, Vampire Sex) – In which John gets turned into a vampire and everything gets a bit weird.

Nine Tenths of the Law by bendingsignpost (M, 18,545 w., 3 Ch. || Modern Vampire AU || Territorial / Possessiveness, Dark John, BAMF!John, Vampire John) – John knows what's his - of course he'll kill for it.

The Halloween Party by XistentialAngst (M, 19,044 w., 3 Ch. || Halloween, Sexy Sherlock, Vampires, Costumes/Disguises, Mutual Masturbation, BAMF John, First Time, Humour, Romance, Frottage, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John attend a Halloween party on the trail of a vampire killer -- a man who's been seducing his victims and taking all their blood. Sexy costumes, bad puns, hideous danger, frantic sex in hidden places and some Halloween-flavored fluff are all on hand to "treat" you. Boo.

Still of the Night by michi_thekiller (E, 30,762 w., 22 Ch. || 1950s Dark Vampire Greaser AU || Vampire Sherlock, Greaser Sherlock, Nerd John, Rape/Non-Con Elements, Period-Typical Homophobia, Horror, Seduction) – 1.) Curfew must be obeyed. 2.) Streets must be clear by sundown. 3.) If you find yourself out after curfew, seek shelter at the home of a friend, relative, or neighbor whom you know and trust. 4.) Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES should any unknown persons be allowed into the home after curfew.

Sanguineous Serendipity by CarmillaCarmine (E, 34,783 w., 14 Ch. || Vampire AU || Alternate First Meeting, Turning a Character, Vampire Sherlock, Captain John, POV John, Feeding, Blood Drinking, Crossdressing Sherlock, Genderfluid Character, Sherlock in Heels, Transphobic Behaviour, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Soulmates, Romance, Happy Ending) – Vampire Sherlock meets a dying John in a field hospital in Afghanistan and gives him a whole new life.

How to become a (nice) vampire in 10 days by MorganeUK (T, 39,366 w., 17 Ch. || Vampire AU || Mystrade with Side Johnlock, Vampire Holmes Brothers, Developing Relationship, Protective Mycroft, Sick Lestrade, Angst with Happy Ending) – After something bad happened, Mycroft Holmes must help Greg to get his life back. Even if the only way to help him is to open himself like he never did before... Part 2 of the Vampires BBC Sherlock AU series

Soldier of Fortune by Laiquilasse (E, 47,116 w., 25 Ch. || Vampire AU || Soldiers, Vampire Sherlock, Anal Sex, Top Sherlock) – The only vampire working with the military police, Sherlock is sent to investigate a mysterious death in a regiment in Afghanistan. Given Captain John Watson as a go-to man, Sherlock can't work out if the man is distracting him from the case, or aiding him. And in this case, everyone is a suspect. Part 1 of Fighting For Air

The Vampires of London by consultingdetective (E, 72,660 w., 21 Ch. || Dracula AU || Pining Sherlock, Army Doctor John, Sharing a Bed, Porn With Feelings, Plot Twists) – Over one hundred years after the first battle, a series of murders have caught the attention of London's police force and Sherlock Holmes. While most of the city has forgotten the vampire that once walked its streets, the descendants of the Van Helsing, Harker, and Seward families have not.

Stranger at the Gate by bendingsignpost (E, 85,190 w., 11 Ch. || Vampire AU || Vampire Sherlock, John with a Sword, Hypnotism, Vampire Sex, Dub-Con, Lying Sherlock, Vampire Puberty) - As far as initiation rites go, kidnapping a human doctor from a defended town ought to seem extreme. When James Moriarty offers him the challenge, Sherlock never considers saying no.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #vampires au #vamplock #my fic recs #Anonymous

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sendme-2hell · 3 years

Text

Ranking the books I read in April

aka just ranting about the books I read in april pls ignore me

1. The Space Between Worlds - Micaiah Johnson

I cannot believe this book wasn’t nominated for a Hugo! I like the Hugo list (of the books I’ve read) but cmon. This book is like if you combined the social commentary in The City We Became and the queerness of Harrow the Ninth. Seriously this book had everything I wanted: parallel universes, great character development, social commentary, woc sapphic slow burn, satisfying ending. Also I feel like the title is paying homage to W. E. Dubois which is cool. “Between me and the other world, there is ever an unasked question: How does it feel to be a problem?” Like there is just this very cool idea of talking about other worlds as in literally other universes but also different worlds due to social and racial hierarchies.

2. Plain Bad Heroines - Emily m. Danforth

Horror, Hollywood, boarding school, everyone is gay, the narrator talks directly to the reader and it is hilarious, copious footnotes, have I mentioned how many sapphics there are? It’s hard to keep track. Plus polyamory. I just really loved this book and I felt it all came together in a way that was worth it.

3. Steel Crow Saga - Paul Krueger

This godamn book. I loved this book so much. I was so ready to yell about it on tumblr and tell people to read it. But apparently the author is someone who has harassed a lot of women so...uh...yeah. Nevermind I guess.

I do want to say it is the most accurate depicition of a Sherlock Holmes superfan that I have ever seen in media.

4. The Tiger’s Daughter - K. Arsenault Rivera

What if we went on a long trip on horseback and we were both lesbian warriors...jk unless…

Yeah so I loved this book so much. A lot of it is about navigating familial responsibility, fighting literal and metaphorical demons, fighting the patriarchy, fighting your anger, fighting tigers, etc...and yet I kept thinking to myself “this is the most romantic book I have ever read” and honestly I am gonna stick by that. It also has the “you think me a monster so I will become one” trope which is great. It is set in an Asian-based fantasy world and I did read a goodreads review that said it was as accurate to the countries it draws inspiration from as Leigh Bardugo’s Grishaverse is to the Russian and Scandinavian cultures it takes from. So that’s not great.

5. Six of Crows - Leigh Bardugo

Speaking of! A few months ago I tried to read Shadow and Bone in preparation for the tv show and I could not finish it. The writing was...bad. Anyway I really liked Six of Crows and even though, yeah it’s tropey (I’m looking at you, Helnik backstory), there’s a reason those tropes work. Plus you cannot go wrong with a heist. About halfway through I did realize that there are six mcs and three couples so its kinda just like a giant triple date, which really changed how I read the whole story.

I’m very glad I did read it before seeing the tv show because I was able to be appropriately excited for the Crows and catch the Wylan reference and everything, but I also got to see the Alina stuff without having to read about it.

6. Crooked Kingdom - Leigh Bardugo

I think I somehow liked this even more than Six of Crows, but for narrative simplicity I’ll put it after. I really like it when you put people in an impossible situation and see how they figure it out. Especially if they get out in a clever and reasonably possible way that ties together many different plot threads and has a few good fake-outs. This did all of that, and also developed every character in a way I found satisfying (except [redacted] *cry emoji*).

Kaz pulls a Baru Cormorant with some money stuff and now I wonder if they would be friends.

I read this after watching the show which was good because I knew who Zoya and Genya were but bad because there is a point where Nina is like “here is how shadow and bone ends.” She’s just talking to Mattias and casually spoiling everything for me. So there goes my dreams of living spoiler free until the end of the show.

7. The Miseducation of Cameron Post - Emily m Danforth

My expectations for this book were....very different than it turned out, and I’m glad for it. After reading Plain Bad Heroines I shouldn’t have been surprised at how well written it is. I really appreciated how nuanced it is. It doesn’t spell out its ideas or themes and therefore lets you really sit with them. I would rank it higher but I don’t really enjoy reading about high school.

8. Foundryside - Robert Jackson Bennett

I love a good found family, especially if at the beginning of the book they are on opposing sides. Enemies to friends = best trope! Also it’s sapphic that’s always good. But the best part of this book was the worldbuilding which was so cool.

9. Malice - Heather Walter

Remember what I was saying about “you think me a monster so I will become one”? This book is the definition of that trope. Women becoming unhinged after being treated like shit, we love to see it! Especially if it’s gay. I do have to say, authors who write duologies where the first book ends on a cliffhanger, I see what you’re doing but yes, I will be preordering the next book.

10. Fugitive Telemetry - Martha Wells

I don’t have much to say because Murderbot is so consistently excellent. uh why is it so cathartic when xenophobes disrespect Murderbot and it’s humans step in and shut that shit down. Gets me every single time.

11. Queen of Coins and Whispers - Helen Corcoran

This book was like half romance half politics and unfortunately I did not find the politics that interesting or well written. But the romance was A+. It reminded me of Priory of the Orange Tree a LOT. Though significantly less dragons and I’m taking many points off for that.

12. The First Sister - Linden A. Lewis

I wanted to like this book a little more than I did. There was just maybe too much body horror for me. Interesting characters and world though. There was a location named Cytherea that they mentioned a lot and it was very distracting. I guess I still have tlt brainrot.

13. Shorefall - Robert Jackson Bennett

I think this book was well plotted out but it didn’t quite have my attention like Foundryside did. Also yet another book where a woman’s girlfriend ends up in her head. This time no one had to die so that’s nice. TM and SD take notes!

14. The Deathless Girls - Kiran Milwood Hargrave

Ok I LOVED the Mercies by KMH so I was a little disappointed in this Dracula retelling. It got interesting in the last 50 pages, but unfortunately that is not enough for me.

proud of myself for not reading a single straight book this April

#I just want to rant about the books I'm reading I doubt anyone will read this #I read a lot of good books in april!#six of crows is 2/3 straight #ninej when?!#my rankings

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cakejots · 3 years

Text

this is us trying, Chapter 7 - The Aid

In this AU, they don’t know each other outside of the suit. And in this AU, Ladybug and Chat Noir love each other. But in this AU, Chat doesn’t want their identities revealed.

Written for @ladynoirjuly 2021

notes: this is a coherent story based on all the prompts; each chapter contains at least 3 prompts

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10

Read on AO3

21. Roommates

The journey to Marinette’s house was a short one, it was no wonder she appeared so quickly earlier on. They went past the Dupain-Cheng Bakery and within a minute, they landed on her balcony.

Lady Rouge? Rena Bug? Rena bug sounded more consistent with her other unifications but he still didn’t know. Marinette slid open her balcony door and stepped in, but Chat didn’t follow. When she realised he had yet to come in, she went to the balcony door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure?” He glimpsed at her. “I don’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I’m not okay with it,” she rolled her eyes. “And don’t worry, you’re not imposing at all!”

Chat still stood rooted at the balcony.

“You… We can treat it as though we’re roommates?” She tried. “You can sleep on the bed while I sleep on the mattress.”

“Actually, I should sleep on the mattress and you on the bed. I don’t want to intrude on the place where you need your beauty sleep.”

She sighed. “If I agree to that, will you come in?”

He nodded.

“Alright, I’ll sleep in my bed.”

Once he entered, they de-transformed, and Marinette’s stomach growled.

Her arms flew to her abdomen and her cheeks turned pink. “Aha, I haven’t had breakfast…”

“Let me make it for you!” Adrien jumped on the chance.

“Adrien, all I have to do is to spread the butter and jam on the bread,” she chuckled.

“I know. But please,” he activated his kitten eyes, “that’s the least I can do for you.”

Her eyebrow twitched. “Alright, alright.”

He beamed. “And for your drink?”

“Tea, please.”

“Coming right up!” He started to move, but stopped soon after. “Uhh, I might need you to show me the way to everything.”

Marinette laughed. Such a dork.

After they had fun making their breakfast together and feeding each other, Marinette went into her room to get something while Adrien stayed in the living room to browse his public social account. He understood that he couldn’t run from the scandal for long. He needed to know what the public was saying so that he could come up with a suitable statement to address it.

“Chaton, you need some time off from that.” He jumped when her voice appeared so suddenly beside his ear as she planted herself next to him. “So put that away and join me!”

“What are you doing?”

“Designing!” She held up her sketchbook. “What do you think?”

Adrien took the sketchbook from her and focused on the sketch she had drawn. It was a long and elegant A-Line dress with lace-patterned sleek long sleeves.

He smiled teasingly. “Is my lady aspiring to be a fashion designer?”

She nodded, anticipation for his opinion clear in her eyes.

“It’s really classy!” He raised an eyebrow, then wiggled both. “Are you making this for a future date with me?”

She flushed. “I-I know you have something to comment about the dress, tell me!”

He laughed. “Well, it’s perfect the way it is. But since you asked, you can always go sleeveless as well.”

Her eyes sparkled at his comment, a smirk growing on her lips. She flipped a page on the sketchbook still in his hands to show the same dress. But this time, the sleeves are gone, exactly what he had suggested just moments ago.

Adrien’s smile faltered for a second before coming back wider and prouder. “You sure you’re not a fashion designer yet?”

She scratched the back of her head. “I really wanted to intern at Gabriel…”

“Oh.”

“But no worries!” She clapped her hands to disperse the gloomy atmosphere. “Having the model of a fashion powerhouse compliment my designs? It’s more than I could ever ask for.”

“With skills like these, it won’t be long until someone picks you.” He held her hand and rubbed his thumb on the back of it. “Do you have a portfolio? Can you show them to me?”

Marinette’s eyes gleamed. “Can my day get any better?”

They spent the rest of the day admiring her impressive collection of designs.

The yawn that came from Marinette halted whatever they were doing.

“S-Sorry,” she covered her mouth, cheeks reddened. “I woke up earlier than usual today, so I think I’m turning in right now. D-Do you want to join me?”

“I would love to,” he smiled.

She stood to get the mattress but Adrien held her arm. “Actually, is… is it okay if w-we sleep together on your bed?”

Her eyes shone and she squatted down to his level to booped his nose. “Of course, mon Chaton.” She grabbed his hands and led him to the toilet before going to her room.

She jumped into her bed and moved in to give him space. Marinette looked at him expectantly as he stopped at her door. She raised her arms to entice him into her embrace, and it worked. Adrien walked towards her bed and snaked his arms around her waist as he got on, pulling her body flush against his.

“Ahhh,” she melted into him. “Your heat is very welcome right now”

“Did you invite me just to be your personal heater?”

“Maaaybe,” she smirked.

He pulled away and gaped at her, mock-offended. “How dare you.”

She cackled and chased after his heat. “Adrieeen! Don’t do this to meee, come back here!”

Marinette managed to pull him back, her arms caged his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, effectively trapping him.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, arms encircling her once again and he kissed her nose. “Goodnight, Marinette.”

Her cheeks burn at the sweet gesture. “Goodnight, Adrien.”

22. Heal

Adrien awoke from his slumber, alarmed that he’s in an unfamiliar room, until he recalled that he was staying over at Marinette’s. He checked his side, and there she was still sleeping as soundly as he remembered just a few days prior.

Marinette wasn’t clinging onto him as tightly as she was last night, but she’s still snuggled up in his personal space. He doesn’t mind that all at, he had his arm wrapped around her shoulders pulling her towards him. Her hand and leg were draped lazily across his waist and leg, and her head was on his chest, rising and falling in accordance to his breathing.

It wasn’t a dream.

She’s by his side.

And he still has the scandal to deal with.

Adrien ran his hand down his face to wipe away any sleepiness before he grabbed his phone from the shelves above him, and concluded Marinette is a pretty heavy sleeper. He shifted quite a bit searching for his phone but she didn’t stir at all. After finding a comfortable position, he went online and browsed through.

There’s the side that’s all rainbowy, sparkles, and flowers. The side that supports his decisions, saying how adorable they are as a couple and calls for the media and harassers to stop their digging and let him be happy.

And then there’s the mob and haters, holding their pitchforks and axes and spreading false rumours, negativity, and hate about their relationship. Demanding them to break up, else they’d boycott him.

He has been in the eyes of the media all his life, he has learnt how to filter out the noises pretty well. He can’t please everyone. They’re all unique with their own taste and preferences. He understood that much. Which was why he really didn’t care if people boycotted him. If they really supported him, they would’ve wished him happiness.

What he really couldn’t stand were the nasty remarks they'd made of Marinette. He knew it was going to come, but to read about them with his own eyes made his blood boil.

How dare they call her these abhorrent names. They are just vomiting words that didn’t describe Marinette at all. Golddigger? Slut? Whore? He was so disgusted that people could scope to that level. She’s the sweetest person he’s ever met and was pretty sure no one could come close to her level. She’s Ladybug! Protector of Paris and people love her. And as soon as she shows up in a different form, she gets hated on? He was never one to be bothered by haters’ opinions, but they are directed at Marinette, the love of his life. He can’t let this slide! This shouldn’t even be happening. Why are humans so ugly? What—

“Adrien?”

Her groggy voice snapped him out of his onslaught of the haters, and he directed his attention to her on his chest.

Those blue eyes were staring at him so intently, and it made him self-conscious. But it also made him finally realise that his heart rate was accelerating and he was inhaling quick and shallow breaths. He was also gripping her shoulder stiffly.

He released his hold immediately.

Shit. Were those what disturbed her beauty sleep?

“Good morning, my lady!” He tried his best to sound as cheery as possible, to hide the fact that he was doing something she had disapproved of earlier on.

“What are you checking on your phone?” Fuck.

“Uhh—”

He wasn’t able to explain because Marinette had pushed herself from his chest to stop beside his head to have a better look.

Adrien could hear his own pulse in his head, and it was amplified by the silence that nestled itself within the room. She must be furious.

“Adrien,” her voice sounded deafening. “I would prefer it if you step back from social media and heal from what you experienced just yesterday.” She frowned and turned towards him. “Is there a reason why you refuse to stop browsing it?”

He let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Adrien didn’t know why he was so afraid of Marinette finding out, maybe he was scared of disappointing her, but her reactions showed that he has nothing to worry about. He supposed he did owe her an explanation for it.

“I… I hoped to get a general understanding of the public’s view on the matter,” his hand reached for hers and his thumb shyly caressed the back of her hand. “So that the statement that I eventually have to release can address them accordingly.”

“Okay, fair enough,” she still didn’t like the idea though. “But could you take more time off first? Or at least, we view them together?”

As much as Adrien admires Marinette’s commitment to solving issues, he truly didn’t want her to be reading those revolting comments about herself. “You really don’t want to see how distasteful they can be.”

“Haters gonna hate,” she shrugged. “I’ve dealt with that in school before. Besides, I don’t believe in liars. ”

Adrien’s eyes widened like saucers. “There were people who hated you?”

“Of course. I’m pretty sure they still do. I know I can’t please everyone,” she petted his head. “So don’t worry your pretty head about how I’ll take them. It’s us against the world, remember?”

“As always.” He smiled teasingly and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her cheek. “And you think I’m pretty.”

“Hush.”

23. Guilt

It’s been a few days since Adrien arrived at her home.

A few days since he had a taste of the potential life he might have with Marinette in the future.

A few days since pictures of them were invasively taken on the night of their reveal and sold to the biggest gossip magazine in Paris.

Adrien still has yet to do anything to address the issue. He had taken Marinette’s wishes to heart and took time off of social media to properly rejuvenate from the traumatic experience he went through in the Agreste mansion. She was right, he himself went through the intense rage he didn’t know he was capable of after reading about the offensive things some members of the public had said about her.

Marinette’s presence was very warm and welcoming. She had made the healing process much faster than if he had been dealing with it all alone.

But it still didn’t ease the guilt that has been eating at him ever since. Adrien knew he had to deal with the media when Shadowmoth’s identity became public knowledge. It was one of the reasons why he didn’t want the reveal to happen right after the final battle. He didn’t want his lady to be caught up in the mess. And to think that all her waiting had been for naught just because he slipped up on the night of their reveal.

He felt like utter shit.

“Marinette, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

She was taken aback by the sudden apology. They were currently snuggling on her sofa, Marinette toying with his hair and Adrien lying on top of her chest, arms around her waist, listening to her heartbeat and enjoying the sensation her fingers brought. Nothing about the current situation they were in warranted a need for an apology from his end.

“Adrien, what do you mean?”

He looked at her. “I know how much you value your privacy. I practically put your face out for the world to see.”

Marinette frowned at this. “No, no you didn’t. Why would you say that? You took extra precautions for us to meet up, remember? Who walks in empty parks at 3 am in the morning? Literally no one! So—“

“But think about it, Marinette,” he cut her. “If I didn’t insist on walking you home in our civilian forms, if I had just chosen another date for the reve—”

“Are you saying you regret the way the reveal went?”

“No!” Adrien was flabbergasted that she even came to that conclusion. “Of course not! I would never! It has brought me so much joy to finally know who you are.”

He squeezed her waist. “But I can’t help but think all this mess could’ve been avoided if only I was more careful.”

When Marinette didn’t reply, he took it as she was waiting for him to elaborate further.

“I was so blinded by what I wanted at that moment that I created this mess. I caused you to be in harm's way.” He averted his gaze as tears started to form in his eyes. “The media was one of the reasons why I held off the reveal. I didn’t want the media’s eyes on you. And now, all the time you’ve spent patiently waiting for the reveal has been for nothing, all because of what I did. I was so selfish in my approach. I’m so sorry.”

Marinette held his face in her hands and wiped away the tears. “But you made it right straight away, didn’t you?”

Adrien snapped back to her. “H-Huh?”

“You asked me to transform and leave the area as soon as you realised something was wrong, didn’t you?” She smiled gently and caressed his cheeks.

He said nothing to reject her deduction. She shouldn’t be giving him those looks when he had ruined her life.

His eyes widened as she planted a kiss on his forehead. “You’re selfish, Adrien. But not in the way you think you are. The fact that you're guilty of your actions makes you aware and sensitive to the ones around you.”

She moved to stroke his hair. “You’re empathetic towards others, that’s far from being selfish.”

Her actions were so simple. Yet, her eyes, voice, and touch all soothed him to no end.

Marinette held his cheeks again and pressed her lips to his nose. “Have you actually forgotten that you’re Chat Noir, Protector of Paris? You're the reason why Paris is safe now.”

She pecked his left cheek. “It's not selfish to want something you desire, when giving is all you’ve been doing all this while.”

And then the other. “So Adrien, you don’t need to apologise for exposing me to the media. I don’t blame you for that. At all. Because you’ve done nothing wrong. But I do hope you forgive yourself for being selfish.”

He leaned towards her hand and rubbed his face against them. Her assurance means everything to him.

Marinette regarded him, and added one last sentence to solidify her speech. “I would say I’m selfish too, I refused to let you go when you clearly needed some time and space to yourself.”

“You're not selfish, my lady” he immediately jumped to deny any allegations she made against herself. “Your presence really helped me.”

“Then apply these to yourself too, Chaton. You being selfish made me really happy,” she flashed a pleasant and tender smile to him. Her hand travelled into his hair again and played with them. “I finally got to know who the love of my life is. It's what I’ve wanted for 6 years. So your selfishness has made me really blissful. I think I would’ve been more offended if you weren’t selfish,” she giggled.

Adrien was about to melt into a puddle of goo if she continued throwing those looks at him. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, hoping to convey his gratitude through his eyes and gesture. “I was heading towards a negative headspace, and I apologise for that. Thanks for pulling me back.”

She smiled, and he knew that it had. “I forgive you, and you're welcome. Treat yourself nicer, Adrien. It's okay to be selfish sometimes.”

Adrien lifted himself off of her and moved to rub his nose on hers admiringly before his lips landed on hers, pouring all of his love and adoration for her into that kiss.

#ladynoirjuly2021 #ladynoirjuly #ladynoir #mesfics #miraculous ladybug #fanfic #mlb fanfic #chat noir #ladybug #alternate universe #light angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #this is us trying

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weirwoodking · 4 years

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hi i was wondering if you would be interested in making a meta on the differences between show!sansa and book!sansa bc i know they changed a lot of her storyline but i don't understand why everyone hates on sophie turner? it can be short or inexistent meta if you're not up to it but i would be very interested to know what you have to say

I mean, the differences between the two are pretty simple. After season 4, D&D decided to cut Sansa’s book storyline, and replaced it with their own rewrite. This affected the plots of multiple characters, particularly Show!Theon’s and Show!Jon’s, but most of all, Show!Sansa’s, obviously. George himself has spoken on how much he hated what the show did with Sansa. He said in 2014 that he had “no idea what they were doing with Sansa or where they’re taking her storyline.”

I could go episode by episode and point out everything that’s wrong or is out of character, but it’s kind of useless. The show did not adapt books 4 & 5, it’s as simple as that, everything is different and feels like it’s out of character. For the first 4 seasons, I thought that Sansa’s story was handled fine (I haven’t watched GOT seasons 1-4 in over 4 years, so my memory is a bit foggy on the specifics tho). Sophie Turner isn’t exactly how I picture Sansa to look, but her acting was fantastic, especially for someone so young and for her first television role.

I personally haven’t seen people “hating on Sophie Turner”, but I’m not involved in the GOT side of tumblr, only the ASOIAF side, so I don’t see people talk about the actors that much. I do know that there are people in fandom (not just in the GOT fandom but in fandom in general) who will conflate actors with their characters. I have seen some toxic Show!Sansa stans do this with Show!Dany and Emilia Clarke (mostly last year). It seems to be more of a problem with female characters and actresses (‘cause sexism), and I think it’s really creepy and disturbing. Sophie Turner is not Sansa, so if anyone is “hating on her” because they didn’t like how the show changed Sansa’s story, that’s really fucked up. I don’t know much about the GOT cast, actually, I rarely watched interviews or behind-the-scenes videos. I don’t know if Sophie Turner has said that she likes the show’s ending or something like that, so if that was the case I could see people being critical of her opinion. But even if she did like the ending of the show and the way the writers changed her character after season 4, I still don’t think you should hate on an actor for that. Because the actors didn’t make the show, the showrunners did. It’s not on the actors to get everything right about their characters, it’s on the writers and directors to tell them the story and guide them through their acting. I don’t blame the actors for anything about GOT (no one should), I blame the writers.

What I find is the biggest problem about post-season 4 Sansa is how little regard they had for her character, while simultaneously claiming she was their favorite. I believe their exact quote was “Sansa was the character we cared about more than anyone”. Okay… then why did you cut her storyline? I feel like their whole “she’s our favorite character” act was more to try to defend against the criticism of the cutting of her storyline. What bothers me most is how they just casually threw her into the Ramsay plotline without thinking at all about what that meant. If you’re going to have one of the main characters of the show get serially raped, you need to think about what you’re doing and how to handle that horrific situation. In the books, the Jeyne Poole storyline is handled very carefully. The acts committed by Ramsay against Jeyne and Theon are never really shown, only implied, alluded to, or very briefly described. The show, on the other hand, explicitly showed Theon’s torture scenes, and made Ramsay a much bigger character in seasons 5 & 6 than he is in the books. I feel like they just used him for shock value, because so much of Game of Thrones revolved around shock value and in-the-moment reactions. I think they just saw Ramsay as a character they could turn into Joffrey 2.0, which is why they put Sansa with him. They didn’t care to follow Sansa’s book arc, they just wanted to continue the whole “caged-bird” thing with her, for shock value.

And to deflect against criticism, that’s why they made her so smart and powerful in the final few seasons. There’s next-to-no build up, no character development, no focus on her growth, the show just tells us that Sansa is the smartest character, and the audience is expected to agree. Because D&D did not care about showing her development. There’s a line in season 7, when Sansa and Arya kill Littlefinger, where Sansa says “thank you for all of your lessons, Lord Baelish.” And that immediately stuck out to me, because that sounds like something Book!Sansa would say. The show cut out Sansa’s Vale storyline, where she spends much more time with Littlefinger, and so… what “lessons” is Show!Sansa referring to here? They didn’t spend a lot of time together in the show. I do think that Sansa will defeat Littlefinger in the books, so that line makes sense for Book!Sansa.

What they did was cut Sansa’s storyline, throw her into a horrific situation that they used for shock value, and then expected to be praised when they made her a “girlboss” later on. They basically said “hey, we know we essentially erased this character’s arc and development, but at least we did a feminism, right?” And that’s what really pisses me off. The blatant disregard for female characters, then saying “no, we do care about them! Believe us!”

Lindsay Ellis has a really good video called “Woke Disney” that touches on this. Basically, she talks about how Disney’s recent live action remakes tend to make each of the princesses a “#girlboss” in a very corporate, fake-feminist manner that is very easy to see right through. (I recommend just watching the video, she goes more in-depth into the subject.)

A similar thing occurred with GOT (the show only had one female writer after season 4, by the way, who was a staff writer for season 8. And before that, only 4 episodes were written by a woman). D&D wrote a lot of problematic, misogynistic, homophobic, and racist things. Then they tried to cover that up with (to use a line from Ms. Ellis) a coat of #girlboss paint. For example, I remember after s8e3 (when Arya killed the Night King) came out, that was when the big criticism for season 8 really started. People saw how bad the writing of that episode was, and how ridiculous and anti-climactic it all felt. However, when people criticized the manner in which the Night King was killed (i.e. saying that it would have made more narrative sense for Jon to do it instead of Arya), there was another group of people who called that criticism sexist. “That’s sexist! You’re just upset that a girl did it instead of a guy!” Which… ugh... do I need to explain how idiotic that line of reasoning is?

And that’s kind of how the HBO show tried to get away with its misogyny, not just the misogyny of Dany’s ending, but of the whole show in general. “Look, we can’t be misogynistic, we had Arya kill the Night King! Look, we can’t be misogynistic, we had Sansa become a #girlboss!” Bullshit, you’re just trying to hide your sexism and bad writing behind a facade of fake feminism.

… *sigh* ...

Anyway, nothing but love for Book!Sansa, and nothing but hate for the writers of Game of Thrones. I hate how the show turned Sansa into a very polarizing character, when she shouldn’t be. None of the child characters of ASOIAF should be polarizing, they’re children for fucks sake.

I’m very excited to see where GRRM takes Sansa’s character in TWOW, I feel like she’s got an awesome journey coming up (hopefully involving her discovering her skinchanging powers, taking down Littlefinger, and heading north for home).

Uh, wow, this got really long… and I’m exhausted after thinking about the sh*w that much. Here, as a treat for reading all the way down to the bottom, have a Sansa WIP drawing that I haven’t finished yet:

#long post #ask #anon #asoiaf #pro book sansa #book sansa stark #anti got #anti game of thrones #tw: rape mention

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whetstonefires · 4 years

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Hi Whetstonefire. I have a question about the comic where Nightwing cheats on Starfire with Barbara: What happens directly after that? Does Starfire find out that Nightwing cheated on her? And, if so, how does she react? I've read online that (according to Marv Wolfman) Starfire is the opposite of everything Batman taught Nightwing to be and that Batman taught Nightwing to be repressed and cold. What did Nightwing contribute (emotionally) to the relationship between him and Starfire? (Cont.)

(Cont.) From what I can tell, from online, Nightwing was adamant about standards of mercy and monogamy - how do you think, if Starfire were to be written as her own character and not written around Nightwing and his emotional needs, she would handle and react to that? (This bit is an FYI for other readers: this is just speculation, not hate. Sorry about that.) Sorry about the questions! Have a nice day!

Okay there are so many separate questions packed in here! I may miss some of them lol and I do not want to put in the hours it would take to produce an orderly response to all this, so this post is going to be a mess.

Initial query and important point: the cheating story was out of continuity. Like, literally, not just by ‘being rejected by the fanbase,’ it was just this weird retcon oneshot that seems to have been some sort of fuck-you to Nightwing or his fans or something. So no, it had no in-setting fallout lol. It, in more ways than most comics, didn't exactly happen.

It was just this weird thing where Dick hooks up with Babs before giving her a wedding invitation, which is both out of character for him in general and out of step with where he was leading up to the wedding--he was desperate to get married so they could have some Normal Stable Adulthood Happiness; the choice to recharacterize him as a fuckboy who regards it as a loss of freedom isn’t congruent, on much more than the level of principle.

As far as how Kori would feel about it, if she had learned...that is very hard to say. Apart from how it would require her to reinterpret everything about where their relationship stood at that point, the data is very unclear, and I don’t even have all of it. Gonna back up to cover some of the rest of the ask, get some context here.

So this actually brings up two of my biggest gripes with Wolfman’s NTT--weird Kori characterization and the weirdly negative interpretation of Batman as parent that backwashed heavily into other titles and influenced the character for the worse, in ways we're very much still dealing with today. 😩

The latter is pretty self-explanatory, though Wolfman’s take that the main thing Bruce taught Dick was repression does shed light on some writing choices and make others funnier. But Kori. Oh my lands.

So, item one, I wouldn't say that Kori is overall opposite Bruce, or even of his philosophy? There are just some very major points of opposition. She isn’t emotionally buttoned-down like at all, especially about positive feelings, although considered realistically with all the bullshit they’ve piled into her backstory she absolutely leans on repression to cope and stay positive, which makes her a lot like Dick actually.

To an extent, she was clearly written around foiling Dick’s Batman-derived traits in the same way that Robin was written to foil Batman, bright and glad and aerial. A Flamebird to his Nightwing in theme if not in name.

You could do some interesting stuff with that, and the bildungsroman aspects of this period of Dick’s life, like he has two roads forward in terms of how he’s going to define ‘adulthood’--does it necessarily require becoming more like his mentor-father, for good and ill, or can he make Kori in part a destination, as it were, and create an adult self that is derived from who he has always been as well as the man he’s modeled himself after?

To an extent I think this even was one of the things going on in ntt but like. Only a little bit.

(Given how much like Bruce Babs is in most of the ways Kori isn’t, especially once she’s Oracle, you could make a case for her as love interest being like. Symbolic of his not being in a rebellious phase? That gets weird and oedipal really fast tho lol.)

Okay stepping down one meta level lol, the thing about answering the 'what would kori' question here is that her character is deeply bound up in her culture, about which we are told and shown a great many contradictory things. Any attempt to read her as an independent character has to tackle not only the gender stuff you allude to and these inconsistencies, but how much of the sheer mess of her is rooted in racism.

'Fantastic' racism, technically, because Tamaraneans aren't real, but the 'taming the savage' narrative that kept surfacing between them and the language used in reference to it is just. The existing racism of presumably the writers, placed in Dick's mouth, and it's super gross. I hate it so much.

(I had a faint hope when they cast her for live action it was with a deliberate intent to directly tackle and better that history, but lollllllll nah. At least they didn’t double down in it tho! Can you imagine, with a black actress, in this day and age....)

So to predict and comprehend Kori, you have to make a lot of calls about Tamaran as a civilization. I like to slightly privilege stuff established earlier if there's no good reason not to, so while much is made over time of her inappropriate rage and the violence she was raised to normalize, I think what she says in her first appearance is good to keep in mind: in her culture, kindness is for friends and cruelty is for enemies. She doesn't understand why the Titans seem to have this backwards.

Kori is not a merciless person. She’s very empathetic, as a rule. With people she loves, she is self-destructively forgiving. That's not a trait only Dick benefits from--her family keeps betraying her in new exciting ways, and she keeps letting them.

Her arc of growing away from that habit is however greatly crippled by centering Dick in the narrative and by the awful 'civilizing' overtones that keep coming into it. When she comes back after the 1986 breakup, still married to Karras, she brings with her a commitment to doing things the Earth way--to eschew lethal force as more than a compromise with her friends’ values, but as a deliberate choice.

This deserved a lot more space and time than it got, and the fact that it didn’t get it is only somewhat due to her being subordinated to Dick and to general writing fail; a lot of it’s just the team book problems of everything happening to everybody all at once.

I mean, Dick’s journey later on to deciding he loves her enough to date her even though she’s married and it’s technically against his principles was packed into this absolutely heinous issue where he was inspired by a woman refusing to separate from her husband who’d just threatened to kill her and their kid with a knife, until being stopped by Nightwing. Because he’s apologizing for what he did.

This is his inspiration for accepting Kori’s marital status! It’s supposed to be heartwarming, as far as I can tell! Not heavyhanded messaging that this is a self-destructive terrible choice in which Kori will inevitably harm him somehow! This issue is pro ‘consensual open relationships under certain circumstances’ and also ‘giving abusers another chance’ as expressions of love. Welcome to the 80s ig.

(Notable is that the wife in this issue was black and the husband and son both looked very white, so it’s probably her stepkid and she probably wouldn’t get to keep him if they separated; this is not even vaguely treated as a factor.)

Point is, everyone was getting too little space to actually go through the amount of development they were getting, and it was clumsily handled; it’s not just her.

In an overlapping period Gar processed his issues with his adoptive father with whom he constantly fought and their shared trauma over the rest of their family (the Doom Patrol) having died violently not long ago via a batshit several-issue storyline where Mento went crazy, created supermutants, and abusively mind-controlled them to attack the Titans. It is literally all like this.

Back to the infidelity thing, now. So much to unpack. So like I mentioned above, their first big breakup, while partially driven by Dick’s existing conflicted feelings about their different ideas about things like ‘killing in battle’ and ‘her identity and loyalties being tied up with her home planet,’ is explicitly over different takes on monogamy.

When Dick is breaking up with her, Kori makes it clear she thinks it’s totally reasonable to have both a husband and a love, since Karras also has someone he loves and they’re both fine with it, but the story doesn't really explain how nonmonogamy works on Tamaran, or even if it's practiced outside the context of political marriage. They do do a sort of...soulbond fusion dance...thing, as part of the ceremony, so marriage is definitely serious business. There are so many levels of cultural difference that get poor to no development.

But to return to the weird ooc retcon cheating story: because of this context, no matter what her personal norms are, Dick specifically casually sleeping with someone else would be something for Kori to be mad about, because of the hypocrisy.

Then there’s the Mirage Incident, which I haven’t read through properly and which was very poorly handled by the writers. Kori is upset about Dick having slept with someone impersonating her and there’s a general vibe of this being treated by Dick’s social circle as unfaithfulness even though he was in fact sexually violated by deceit; it famously sucks.

We still don’t learn a lot here about Kori’s ideas about monogamy, from what I have seen, because her focus is mostly on feeling like Dick doesn’t care about her enough or in the right way since he couldn’t tell the difference. Which is an understandable feeling, even if it’s not an appropriate reaction to have at him at this time.

What Nightwing contributed emotionally........hm. This is a mess, honestly; he was all over the map, and not just because of having Brother Blood in his head. I cannot speak definitively on this, it’s too inconsistent.

For most of their relationship, Kori was the more intensely invested one, the one to initiate and the one who was shown at length to be excited to come home at the end of the day to their shared apartment because her boyfriend was there to see and talk to. If we set aside his more egregious white male bullshit, Dick was pretty emotionally available most of the time, though? They were cute.

Since they split up a lot of ink has been spilled making him less into her in retrospect, but he was pretty invested--leaving her coincided with mental breakdowns both times, and it wasn’t even mostly because she was doing his emotional processing for him, because she wasn’t, although it’s fair to say he often fell into using the relationship as an emotional crutch. Kori was definitely doing the same thing though so...it wasn’t the most balanced relationship in fiction history, but apart from slight codependency and the racism, it was decent enough.

She gets more evenhanded development than most superhero love interests, honestly, because she was costarring in a team book. She had her own storylines. She had other friends.

Mostly both of them just needed some space to finish growing up and stop being retraumatized long enough to process some of the existing trauma better, and I think they could have gone on being good for each other for a long time.

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sunfloweradore · 4 years

Text

i’m leaving this blog

hi! this post is a bit long but at the end you’ll find prompts and requests that you are free to use if you’re a writing blog :).

hi there!! if you’re reading this, i hope you’re doing well and staying safe. i just wanted to say that i’m leaving this blog and i’m not sure if i’ll ever come back. the years i’ve spent being a harrie have been great and it’s been a crazy amount of time! pretty much since the x factor! however, for a long time it’s also felt like i’ve been forcing myself to be a fan of harry’s. i’ve put so much energy into being a fan of his that it hasn’t been fun for me in a while and neither has writing fanfiction, which is what this blog is mainly for. it’s felt very difficult to sit down and write a fantasy about somebody who i might not even like anymore and in hindsight it seems a little dumb, but i did stress over writing all the time. this isn’t really about anybody i’ve interacted with on tumblr because you’re all lovely but sometimes it feels as though harries don’t treat him like he’s a human being and instead like he’s a god. me, included. even though i know we joke about harry being the only man we’d let degrade us or destroy our lives or whatever, he is still a person at the end of the day! it took me a very long time to realize that and thinking of him as otherworldly or completely perfect was my way of thinking for a while and i think it was pretty damaging. the fact that so many people would literally die for him is sad because unfortunately, none of us are going to be on his “level”, so to speak. we don’t know him personally and chances are we aren’t ever going to. ahhhh please don’t be mad at me for saying this, it’s just something i’ve realized i need to change about myself and i think it’s something we should all consider about everyone we are fans of.

anyway, the time and energy i’ve spent on something so ridiculous is exponential and i really feel like it’s time to put it in the past. i’m dedicating this year to self-growth and part of that is learning how to be my own person. feeling like i have to be interested in something or someone in order to be normal has been a common theme in my life and harry has been that someone for as long as i can remember. this isn’t his fault of course but i’m getting older and i don’t want to think of this time in my life as the era that i was obsessed with harry styles. instead, i want to form memories and real life experiences instead of using fanfiction as a way to cope with all of the things that i can’t handle in my life. it worked for a while but at this point i’ve been reading it and writing it for so long that it feels like i’m living inside my head, like i’ve become dependent on it (obviously this is very bad lolol). so, long story short, i will be leaving this blog because it just isn’t good for me anymore. thank you to everyone who has requested things for me to write and anyone who has interacted with my writing. sorry i couldn’t get through them :(. i’d also like to thank everyone i met through this blog because you’re all such amazing people and you deserve the world. i will leave my writing up but the sentiment still applies- i’ve worked very hard on everything i’ve written so please don’t repost any of it without crediting me, thank you.

below are requests i couldn’t get to and prompts(?)/works that i never got to finish. feel free to use them if you want and tag me in them bc i’d love to see how you write them :)

1. paperboy harry!

i think the direction i wanted this to go in was kind of like a 40′s au? or just a long long time ago. not sure why i had this started seeing as i already have harry as a paperboy in a story of mine but go off ig

2. vampire harry!

i had a specific plot i wanted where harry was in a car wreck because of a vampire who ended up biting him in like an alleyway. reader saves him and is a vampire herself! she nurses him back to health n teaches him how to be a vamp with various shenanigans along the way

3. hospital au?

this one i’m not too sure about but if you’ve seen the red band society you’d sort of know the direction i was going with this. there’s kind of an in-between for people in the hospital who are fighting death or going into surgery and in that in-between is a boy who has been in a coma for a long time. i pictured this as being angsty and for harry to be the boy who guides people in certain directions but he ends up falling for the reader while she’s there

4. ghost au!

self explanatory but i pictured harry as the ghost who kind of just wants a friend lol

5. tea au?

this would probably be pretty short, i just thought it was cute! reader has different kinds of tea all the time and it’s a surprise each time he kisses her

6. strawberry farm au?

reader has a strawberry farm LMAO maybe harry buys them from her or it’s another vampire au, who knows!

7. threesome

most likely has been done b4 but a threesome w 2 guys and the reader where the guy is inside harry while he is inside the reader

8. chocolate by the 1975

a fic based on that song! it would probably be from harry’s pov

9. space au?

hmm i think i probably saw something that inspired this but all it says is “harry sends letters to space” so i’m assuming it’s an au where he just decided to send letters to space out of boredom or something and mayhaps alien reader finds one?

10. assassin au!

harry is an assassin and in my draft it’s super vague? and almost seems like he’s stalking the reader? it could go in any direction really but i’m assuming the reader is dating him and doesn’t know he’s an assassin

11. chapstick

very similar to the tea one! just w the reader wearing diff chapsticks all the time

12. shower

this is inspired by something i read on wattpad a long time ago and i’ve tried finding it but i think it might’ve been deleted. the reader flicks da bean all the time in the shower and is really loud about it, harry is distracted and confronts her

13. dang ANOTHER threesome

but this time harry is on a date with a girl and they’re at a bar- the girl is looking around, sees the reader and thinks she’s gorg and they end up having a threesome

14. photography au!

harry is a photographer who somehow ends up taking pictures of the reader. in my draft the reader asks him to delete the ones that are ugly but he keeps them all hehe

15. scrapbook au

similar to the last one, harry takes pictures of the reader a lot but it’s not bc he’s a photographer, he just thinks she’s pretty n wants to scrapbook. twist is that he has TWO scrapbooks- one of innocent pics and one that’s lustier (consensual ofc)

16. habits of my heart by jaymes young

self explanatory, angsty

17. roommate au?

this is for some reason also an assassin au? but they’re roommates and reader doesn’t know what he does. they’re bffs, mutual pining

18. don’t forget about me by clove

wow another song fic, big surprise

19. puppyy

harry gets a puppy who hates him :( but the puppy loves the reader!

20. mall au

lol this one is kind of dumb idk why i thought of it but harry is one of those kiosk people at the mall who sells perfume! dunno!

21. condoms

reader works at gas station, harry buys huge condoms

22. poetry

either person reads erotic poetry while touching the other

23. magic au

one of them makes a love potion, kind of dark? like making the other fall in love with them idk it could be an accident though

24. private chef

the reader is a private chef! that’s all i’ve got!

25. message board

this is inspired by..... the sims lmaooo you can pin messages to the message board in your apartment building and i thought it’d be cute if the reader and harry lived in the same building and he leaves notes on the board and she doesn’t know they’re for her! she always thinks they’re cute though

26. raisin theory

inspired by new girl! specifically a comment i saw in like a compilation? video of new girl on yt

i thought it’d be cute for harry to be that person

#tbh i haven't been reading ff either so if any of these have been done already i didn't know #anywhooo ily #hopefully this year will be good for everybody #harry styles imagines #harry styles writing #and of course the reader doesn't have to be female or in 3rd person #but yeah idk how many people are even gonna see this but my masterlist isn't linked anymore #if you search for masterlist on my blog it will come up #okay bye!!

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annaraebananawriter · 4 years

Text

Haunted

...Can this be split into two parts? Probably. Am I going to split it into two parts? No.

This is based off of the Haunted Au by @156lemongummies, the bad ending for Astral. This was partly written before I knew how Astral and the villagers interacted, or rather didn’t interact, so I filled in the blanks with my personal headcanon. Just keep that in mind.

Also! Fun Fact: This can also be titled Imposter, and you’ll see why.

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale

Characters: Nightmare, Dream (Who belong to Joku), Corruption (There are multiple versions of him, so I don’t know who to credit) and mentioned Astral (Who belongs to @156lemongummies)

Warnings: Character Death, Grief, Things like that and I think that’s all? Let me know!

Word Count: 5240

~oOo~

It was one of the days that Dream and Nightmare planned to relax and hang around with each other—and only each other—without fusing into Astral. Though, they weren't opposed to it; accidents happened, after all. However, they made a deal that it was important to have these days of 'normality' so that they don't forget how to be just one person. They might need that knowledge, one day.

Dream was pretty adamant of this...rule? That was the closest thing to a label they would get. He thinks that it's healthy to remember that they do have a free will in this sort of thing. As if they would ever forget, but you know, better safe than sorry, which was starting to become Dream's motto these days. So, one day a week—or about that, anyway (they were pretty lax about the date; after all, fusing was natural for them. They liked it. The date was just to help them keep a sort of routine in their lives, which was another thing Dream found important.).

Nightmare, on the other hand just went along with it. He didn't care all that much, as Dream was happy and that was what really mattered, right?

The only real problem he had with it...was the villagers. You see, they had never...told them about Astral. For all they knew, Astral was just a skeleton who lived in the woods and came out to visit every now and then. There were quite a few rumours revolving around their origins, too. Some that Dream found creative (he would say that while forcing down a smile, as if it wasn't appropriate to laugh at something like that) and Nightmare found amusing (they were pretty ridiculous and his laughter usually seemed to make it harder for Dream to keep his composure) But, overall, Astral was usually accepted with welcoming smiles and fond pats on the head.

...

To be honest, Nightmare was a bit jealous. Which was silly, he knew that, as he was a part of Astral and so he was also welcomed warmly while being them. But he just...couldn't help it. For so long now, he craved, craved, to be accepted by the village. His efforts were all rejected, however, like they couldn't even fathom the idea of him having emotions like a normal person and not being a cold-hearted demon. It made him angry. Made him want to...do things, things that Dream would hate.

"But He Doesn't Care, Now Does He?"

(In the back of his mind, he knew that, if the villagers ever found out, Astral would be treated differently. They would refer to them as only Dream, disregarding both what fusing means and that Nightmare was even there. The thought always hurt.

"Selfish Idiots—"

However, he would bear it with a smile, like always.)

But he won't tell Dream. He won't; nothing would change his mind. Dream would be confused, not quite understanding but try his best to. His brother would ignore the villager's needs, his own needs (although he already did that), in favour of Nightmare's. He would worry himself sick, which would make Nightmare worry and blame himself (he already did; Dream still worried now, and that was bad enough). It was a cycle Nightmare didn't want to get trapped in.

So, he won't tell Dream. He could handle it himself.

Everything would be fine.

"Naïve Child..."

~oOo~

Nightmare hummed as he walked back towards the tree.

He had forgotten his favourite book back at home and, knowing how much he liked his reading, Dream had sent him back to get it. Nightmare had worried, asking if Dream would be fine by himself. Dream, in all of his optimistic self, had laughed and waved him off with the assurance that everything would be fine. Still a bit worried, he had shrugged off all of his doubts and left, trusting Dream.

(He does trust Dream. He really does. He knows the other can take care of himself and he knows the villagers won't do anything to harm Dream, but he can't help but worry. It was in his nature as a brother.)

For Nightmare's part, everything had gone surprisingly smoothly. He encountered nobody on his journey, except for the stray animal that brushed up against him for pets and affection. It had been quiet in the house, in a good way. He found the book rather easily, once more shaking his head in fondness of his brother (he would've been fine for one day without the book, but Dream had insisted and he had recently gotten to a good part of it so it was too good to pass up).

Now, Nightmare flipped the book over in his hands, staring at the cover. It was made up of hues of brown, gold, red and everything in between the three. The brown and gold made up most of the cover, as it was an arch covered in twisting vines. In the arch, stood two silhouettes holding a rose between them. They were coloured red. His gaze travelled upwards, to the tile. It was printed in big black letters, all capitalized and elegant looking.

It was called—

"...e...now...ian?"

Nightmare's head perked up. He blinked as he saw the tree. He was closer than he thought he was. He almost smiled.

Almost.

Because that was when he noticed the people surrounding said tree and, consequentially, his brother. His brother, who he could only see glimpses of the bright colouring of his clothing, who was surrounded and seemed to be trying to talk to the people holding him by all accounts captive.

Nightmare frowned.

His stomach twisted.

One of the men—by his position, most likely the one right in front of Dream and also the leader—was saying something. Nightmare could see his mouth moving, but he couldn't hear what was being said. There was a pause and the man's lips twitched downwards; Dream must've said something back that he disagreed with.

Nightmare narrowed his eyes.

He had to get closer.

He had to hear what was being said.

(Because his gut twisted with worry and his heart was beating at a rapid pace and Dream was in the middle of all of this, he could get hurt, and gah, he was so stupid he should've never left—)

Quietly, he crept towards the tree, making sure that he stayed out of sight. As he came closer, he could make out words, though he had to strain to hear them.

"Again, I'm sorry," Dream was saying, sounding nervous, which was a first for him, as he usually was always happy to talk to someone. "but I can't let you have an apple. They're not to give out like that. If that was the only reason for you coming here, then I'll have to ask you to leave."

Nightmare narrowed his eyes as the group looked at each other. Now at a good enough distance, he took the chance to study them.

They weren't from the village. It was rather obvious, as both because Dream was nervous as he talked to them, which he wouldn't be if it was someone from the village, and because the group looked like they didn't belong here. They didn't have the clothes or things that everyone wore and they also had weapons. The people of the village didn't carry weapons around with them. These guys did. Now, if they weren't from the village, where were they from?

Nightmare paused and thought.

Come to think of it, this group looked an awful lot like...Bandits.

One day when Astral was walking around the village, they had overheard some of the talk about Bandits. The name was an overall loose term to call them, as they weren't really Bandits, like from stories and such, but it was the closest thing they had to call them. The people of the village were worried because it sounded like these Bandits were here because they had heard about the tree. They were worried about what it meant for their precious Dream.

Astral had left soon after that, as they wanted to talk about this news.

However, if this group surrounding the tree were the Bandits they had been talking about, then what did they want? The obvious answer would be that they wanted an apple. They must've come here to get one and talked with Dream about it, but Dream had refused them gently, as they weren't supposed to give out apples, only protect them. Or at least, they weren't supposed to give them out willy nilly to anyone who just asked for one.

...For some reason, Nightmare didn't think they'd just leave and forget this ever happened.

The thought filled him with dread and something cold.

Eventually, the leader of the group sighed and shrugged. "Oh well, it was worth a try!" He seemed to smile at Dream, who Nightmare got the impression was surprised at. Nightmare frowned as well. There was something odd in his voice. "Thanks for telling us though. We won't bother you anymore." He turned and started to walk away.

Nightmare could finally see Dream. He was right; his brother had been surprised. His golden eyes were wide and stared at the back of the leader as he left. Then they slid over and locked with Nightmare's. They stared at each other, trying to have a conversation without words.

The leader stopped walking, as if remembering something he had forgotten, drawing the twin's attention back to him. "Oh yeah," He said, turning back around with a dark smile on his face. One that made Nightmare's heart clench in worry. "I almost forgot the parting gift."

It happened too fast.

Nightmare had taken a step forward, as something in him screamed that he had to protect Dream.

But it happened too fast.

Too fast for Nightmare to move.

Too fast for Dream to defend himself or even dodge.

Too fast for anyone to do anything to stop the leader from attacking with the knife.

It was as if the world slowed.

Nightmare's eyes slowly widened, his book dropping to the ground as he started to run. His brother's name ripped itself from his throat, a desperate cry that was too late.

It was all too late.

He arrived at his brother's side just as Dream stumbled back, a cut stretching across his chest. It bled gold. Nightmare grabbed Dream as both their legs gave out from under them. Panicking, Nightmare tried to heal Dream, but his magic flickered and died.

(He had never been good at healing, not like Dream was—)

But it was enough for him to learn something alarming:

The knife hadn't just cut Dream's chest...

It had cut his core almost clean in half. And nothing could heal a core.

Which meant...

Dream would...

Dream was going to...

Dream was...

Dream.

All at once, the world was back to normal. Sound slammed back into Nightmare's ears, becoming a ringing that he tried desperately to ignore. He had to focus on his brother, who's breathing was ragged and stuttering and he couldn't do anything—

"Pathetic."

"Dream..." Nightmare said quietly, voice thick with tears, which had started to spill over and down his cheeks, blurring his vision. He didn't know what to do. He didn't think there was anything he could do. His hands hovered around the wound.

The tightness in his chest grew until he could barely breathe.

His world had narrowed down so that only Dream and him remained. Nightmare felt so much that it all blurred together into a strong sense of guilt. For not being there in the first place, for agreeing to Dream's stupid suggestion that he go get his stupid book, for not being fast enough in coming back. For so many things that, in the back of his mind, he knew he couldn't have prevented, not really, but feeling too helpless to listen to the voice of reason.

He watched as Dream shakily smiled. "I...i-it's okay, Brother..." Nightmare could barely hear Dream speak, too focused on the sudden pale glow coming from him. The pleading in Dream's voice for the next words brought Nightmare's attention back to him, his mind suddenly very clear and quiet. "P-please...don't blame yourself...not your fault, okay?"

Nightmare's breath hitched. "Dream—"

Dream didn't dust. Neither of them did, or would. It was something they had known ever since they were brought into existence. As they weren't human, they wouldn't leave a body and as they weren't monsters, they wouldn't dust. Instead, they would just...fade, disappear into the void or wherever they go when they die. Despite knowing this, however, they had never worried about it.

After all, as long as they were together, nothing bad would ever happen, and that included dying, right?

Nightmare thought back to this as he watched Dream fade in front of his very eyes, too frozen to move. Realizing that Dream was disappearing forever made him start and reach out, a whisper of his brother's name caught in his throat as his hands closed around particles of golden light that quickly disappeared. Dream's crown and clothes dropped to the ground, his gaze following them. He knew that if he opened his hands that there would be nothing there, so he let them fall to his side as they opened.

His gaze narrowed on the clothes pile as a cold feeling spread throughout his body. Rage filled his heart, urging him to do something to the people who killed his brother. They killed Dream, who was only trying to protect the tree, who was only doing his job. They were idiots for not realizing it! They deserved pain. They deserved to die in turn.

Nightmare stood up slowly and stumbled a bit, the draining of feeling so many things in such a short time catching up to him. He turned around and was faced with an empty hill.

They had left.

The fact made him laugh hysterically, something breaking in him. He laughed and laughed; he couldn't help it! He found that he couldn't stop. He reached a hand up to grasp his head, trying to ground himself as he continued laughing.

"Cowards."

Yes, they were, weren't they?

They killed someone so dear to him and left without facing consequences? That was the very definition of cowardice!

Though...maybe Dream wasn't dead.

Maybe...maybe...maybe he was just playing Hide 'n Seek!

It was Dream's favourite game, after all. They played it almost every day. So, Dream had probably decided to start a spontaneous game of it. He even got some of the villagers to help him hide, how clever. Yes, clever and very dirty.

Nightmare giggled once more before relaxing. "Okay, Dream. I admit, you got me good for a second there. I really believed you were dead!" A giggle burst through his mouth again and he desperately tried to smother it. "But enough's enough. It wasn't funny. It was the opposite. Now please come out and apologize!" He crossed his arms and waited.

Nothing happened.

He blinked, confused. Dream had never refused him before. He had always listened when Nightmare was this stern with him. His arms uncrossed and he cupped his hands around his mouth as he called out. "Dream?" No one answered back and his confusion grew. "Dream, please come out! I'm not mad, just..." He struggled with his words for a minute. He sighed. "Okay, I'm a little angry, but I forgive you. Now please come out!"

He waited again expectantly.

Nothing.

Nightmare frowned, anger returning to the front of his mind. "Okay, fine!" He snapped out, turning sharply back to the tree. "I'll wait until you come to your senses and return!" He stomped back to the base of the tree where he stopped and stared at the clothes still on the ground. He reached down and grabbed the crown, ignoring the way his hands shook and his stomach sank.

Maybe he was...

He refused to believe it. "Dream, please...It's really not funny anymore..." He whispered to the crown as he tightened his grip until it hurt. He listened once more, growing heavy with the growing realization.

No one answered him. No one came up to him and tackled him in a hug. No one whispered their apologies as they started crying as they realized what they did. No one was there for Nightmare to smile at and comfort and hug and make them promise to never do that again.

And if no one was coming to do those things, then that meant...

"Please..." Nightmare whispered once more, voice cracking on tears. He fell to his knees and screamed. He screamed over and over again until he couldn't anymore. Until his throat ached and his mouth was dry. He clutched the crown tight to his chest, thankful that there was at least one thing left of his brother.

...that Dream was really dead.

~oOo~

The next few days passed in a blur. Nightmare had taken the clothes, cape (which had made him sob heavily once more as he grabbed it) and crown back to their house. Entering the house had been another struggle as everything in there reminded him of Dream. He had to stop himself from breaking down and crying at the sight of their couch and so many other little things until he made it to their bedroom, the one they shared.

Then came another struggle entirely. Once he had gathered enough courage to open the door, he had immediately started crying. Since they shared the room, there were so many things in here that reminded Nightmare of Dream. He had thrown the stuff onto Dream's bed and ran out of the house, all the way back to the tree where he remained for the days following.

He avoided going back to the house, at least for now. He knew he would have to face it eventually but he just...it was too soon to go there now. So, he remained at the tree, never sleeping except for the occasional hour of which he had a nightmare of Dream dying all over again and spending the time locked in his head, face blank on the outside.

~oOo~

It was one week from the incident that the villagers had realized what had happened.

Nightmare looked up slowly as footsteps stomped heavily towards him. Recognizing his usual bullies, two monsters and a human, were coming up to him with a murderous look on their faces, he tried to stand to greet them.

They arrived before he could and the human, their leader, grabbed his collar and punched him, pushing him to the ground. Nightmare held himself up with his elbows, looking up at them with a weak and confused expression. The leader panted and retracted his arm. He glared at Nightmare.

"You murderer!" He screamed, making Nightmare flinch as a bit of spit landed on his face, though he made no move to wipe it away. "How could you kill him?! WHY?!"

Nightmare's eyes widened as he realized what the other was talking about. He gulped and started to whisper, "I didn't..."

One of the monsters shook their head, looking down on him with disappointment. They didn't seem to have heard him. "Your own brother...you killed your own brother! I can't even imagine how he had to have felt..." They shook their head again.

That hurt. Nightmare whimpered a little, the words striking true. They were right. Dream had to have felt the same way as he was dying. The pain in his brother's eyes brought another fresh wave of tears to him in the present. Dream must've blamed him, at least a little. His words about not blaming himself came back to Nightmare again too and he realized that Dream must've been just trying to make him feel better.

After all, it was Nightmare's fault he was dead.

The other monster spoke up, whispering, "You really are a demon..."

Nightmare hung his head, not opposing the words. He really was.

~oOo~

Nightmare yawned as he stared at the words on the page. He hadn't slept in...what was it now, three days? Though that may not seem like much, he had only slept a handful of hours the nights before, some days even getting zero hours. Now he was just too tired to keep his focus on anything.

It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, either. He did. But he was also scared to. He kept seeing Dream dying over and over again, then hearing his voice say things like it was his fault Dream died, he killed him, things like that. Nightmare knew, on some level, that Dream wouldn't want him to blame himself—hell, his last words were that it wasn't his fault—but...no matter how he looks at it, all he can see is that the blame rests on him for not being there quick enough.

The villagers agreed that it was his fault, too. They often yelled things at him as they passed by the tree, sometimes coming up and hitting and kicking him. They mostly kept their distance, however, for which Nightmare was grateful for. He didn't have the energy to deal with them.

There was also...Astral. Just the name made his eyes tear up again. With Dream...dead...he couldn't become Astral again. He wouldn't be able to ever again. It hurt. When they were Astral, their minds were entwined, as if becoming one singular one. Each time they fused, they grew closer, becoming more dependent on the other. It's not...entirely healthy, they knew that, which was why they had the days where they tried not to fuse. It was important to remember that they could take care of themselves on their own if need be.

And now...Nightmare would need to take care of himself forever now. Alone.

...

It hurt.

He didn't know what else to say but that it hurt.

This was another reason why he wanted to sleep so badly. If he goes too long without it, his mind gets muddled and there's no filter for the thoughts that come. Meaning most of them end up being about Dream, about his guilt, about the villagers, about Astral, about so many things that he wants to not talk about.

...God, he was so pa—

A sudden sound—like...a book being slammed—next to his ear made Nightmare jolt, his eyes snapping open. He blinked hard as his heart raced, reaching up to rub at his eyes. Confusion filled him as he blinked again. What just...

Light giggles filled the air now and Nightmare forgot how to breathe.

That sounded like...

But it couldn't be...

But...

"You should've seen your face, Night! It was so funny!" A voice—Dream's voice—said next to him, his giggles turning to laughs.

Nightmare was shaking. He must be dreaming, must've dozed off by the tree, because Dream was dead. He knew it. He saw it happen. Yes, he might've tried to deny it in the beginning but there was no way he was denying it now.

But still...

Even if this was a dream...at least he gets to see his brother again, right? Even if it was just a figment of my imagination.

A finger poked his cheek, bringing Nightmare out of his thoughts. "Night? You okay? I didn't scare you too bad, did I?" The concern in his imaginary brother's voice made Nightmare's mouth twitch. No matter what he was, Dream was too good for this world.

"Nightmare?"

Nightmare shook his head and smiled, turning to his brother. God...he looked the exact same he did when he died! Forcing down a sob, he swallowed. "I'm fine, D-Dream. Sorry for worrying you." He laughed awkwardly in between his words.

Dream stared at him. That was another thing about his brother. People though Dream was too oblivious to notice anything outside of himself, but that wasn't the case. Dream noticed lots of things. He just...kept it to himself. Nightmare smiled again as he remembered all this.

Dream grinned, cyan eyes twinkling, drawing Nightmare's attention again. "Well, okay! As long as you're alright." Giggling to himself, Dream sat down beside Nightmare, leaning against him as he started to weave his flowers together.

Nightmare watched him for a minute, a fond smile in place.

He had missed this.

God, how he had missed this.

It felt like forever since he saw Dream last. He wasn't even sure how long it had been exactly as the days all sort of blurred together in his remaining shock and grief. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, actually. Pretending everything was fine seemed very appealing to him, as he drank in the sight of his brother next to him as he should be, relished in the warmth and weight of the body pressing against his...

...

But something itched in the back of his mind, a strange sensation that something was wrong.

Nightmare paused and furrowed his brow, thinking this over.

...

Did...

Well, it could be a trick of the light...but...

Did...did Dream have...cyan eyes? Now, in his made-up fantasy? Why would he make Dream have cyan eyes when he knew, remembered as one of the most painful things, as one of his most favourite things about his brother, that Dream had...golden...eyes...

Nightmare froze.

A slow, terrifying chill moved through him.

"Hey, Nightmare?" The Dream beside him asked, all movement stopping, voice almost...dead...hollow. "Why did you let them go?"

Nightmare blinked, still coming to terms with what he had realized.

'Dream' tilted his head back to meet his eyes, cyan staring holes in his soul. "The guys that killed be. Why did you let them leave? Why didn't you go after them and..." he shrugged, "I dunno, kill them?"

It was said with such casualness, such innocence, such child-like curiosity that it, while squeezing his chest in pain as he hadn't heard that voice from Dream in years, confirmed his suspicions.

After all, Dream wouldn't wish death on anyone, whether they killed him or not.

It didn't matter if it was his mind or not.

This wasn't Dream.

Anger surged through him and Nightmare shot to his feet, making as much distance as he could between him and the...the imposter, who had fallen with a yelp at his sudden movements. He turned and glared, with as much hate as he could. It was difficult with the thing still looking like Dream. "You aren't him."

Fake Dream blinked, looking confused. "What are you talk—"

"You aren't him," Nightmare repeated, staying firm, "so don't try to pretend you are. Dream's eyes aren't cyan. They're golden. So golden that the sun can't compete with them, gold itself can't compete with them."

He took a shaky breath. "You aren't him. You aren't Dream."

Fake Dream had reached a hand up when Nightmare pointed out the eyes. He frowned. "They're cyan? Damn, I thought I fixed that problem."

"You aren't Dream." Nightmare repeated again, as if the imposter was denying it still.

The imposter shrugged, standing up. Nightmare took two more steps back. "No, I'm not. I wondered if you would catch on, when you would, so I'm not gonna deny it. But," He grinned, black...stuff dripping from his mouth. "do you want to see who I really am?"

Without waiting for an answer, Fake Dream stepped back and disappeared.

Nightmare blinked and everything was different. The sky was a deep red, black clouds covering it, the sun was gone. The grass, trees, everything was dead. Brown. It crackled under his feet as he turned in a slow circle. The village was in ruins, some parts of it still on fire. He covered his mouth as he spied a few bodies in the rubble.

And...the tree. His tree.

It was cut in half, jagged edges poking out of the ground. There were a bunch of flakes of bark resting on the ground, what must've been the remains of the top half of the tree. The remaining stump was dead, but it wasn't the faded gray colour most trees would be when they were dead. It was black.

It was horrifying.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Dream's voice whispered in his ear and Nightmare spun around.

The imposter had changed. He still resembled Dream, still wore his clothing, still bore his looks, but he was covered in black...sludge? Goop? Whatever it was, stuff. His cyan eyes were glowing now and he was still grinning, though it had switched from cheerful to eerie. He was also...floating.

Nightmare was shaking, he faintly noted. Breathing in slowly, he tried to calm himself. It was just a dream. "Where are we?"

The imposter's grin widened. "Why, our home of course! Well, what it would look like in the future. I don't know if it still looks like this. Dream's death did really change things." He laughed, spreading his arms out wide. "Heck, we weren't supposed to meet until after you ate the first apple!"

Nightmare shivered, his horror growing at every word uttered. "What."

The imposter nodded like it was the best thing in the world. "Yeah! You were supposed to eat the apple—" He paused and backtracked. "Well, you were supposed to pick it first, in an effort to prove you were as good as your brother. I was supposed to convince you to eat it and then we would become one person bent on drowning the world in negativity!"

"That's..." Nightmare swallowed, shaking his head. He grew dizzy.

"Fun, right? And then—"

Nightmare shook his head again, getting his bearings again. "Don't. Just...don't. I wouldn't do that. I won't do that. Not ever."

The imposter stared at him, all his happiness gone. "You would. You've thought about it before, I wouldn't be here if you didn't! And you still might." He tilted his head. "Dream's dead. Whatever relief he would give you from the beating and harsh words is gone. The villagers will come back and they will be worse. You'll get tired. You'll give up."

"I won't." Nightmare growled, fists clenched by his side.

The imposter's eyes narrowed. "We'll see."

Nightmare growled again and moved to explain just why he wouldn't do all those terrible things, but a wave of drowsiness washed over him. He stumbled, his legs suddenly straining to keep his weight. His eyes felt heavy.

The imposter blinked and his cheerfulness returned. "Oh, we're out of time. See you again soon! And call me Corruption! 'The imposter' was getting repetitive."

Nightmare didn't hear any more as his legs gave out and he fell backwards into a sea of black.

~oOo~

Nightmare woke up with a gasp. Panting, he looked around quickly. Still under the tree, though the sun was setting now. Still by the village. The world was still alive. He was awake. Gripping his chest, he tried to calm his breathing.

He was awake.

Or was he, he thought, tensing as Corruption's laughter (still resembling Dream's, the bastard) filled his head.

"We're going to have lots and lots of fun, brother!"

Nightmare shivered, burying his head in his hands.

Its voice still sounded like Dream.

Nightmare let out a loose sob, digging his fingertips in his head.

Dream was dead—he still struggled to say this, unwilling to accept it—but Dream was dead.

Dream was dead and he was left with someone imposter, some ghost, demon, thing, whatever that wanted and was trying to taint his memory.

#my writing #my fanfiction #nightmare sans #dream sans #mentioned astral #corruption #or #droopgoop #haunted au #tw death #my was this a doozy #im going to crash now #bye

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