#would not want to be at the other end of his anger

[crowsofdarkness]

pairings: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

You stumble upon a scene that awakens something inside of you so Bucky helps you unleash it.

18+ CW's below the cut: arranged marriage, dry humping, blood, mentions of torture, licking up dry blood, pussy spanking.

I shouldn’t have done what I did, sneaking into the hidden room at the mansion, but Bucky had been so quiet about some things lately. I couldn’t help but be curious about what he was doing in that room. Especially when I heard screams coming from it. So when I followed him inside, I nearly fainted at what I saw. 

Bucky laying a vibranium fist into a familiar face. 

My ex boyfriend, the one I’d been with before my arranged marriage to Bucky. I confronted him about the bloody scene in front of me which only ended with Bucky dragging me back up to our bedroom. It was clear that I wasn’t happy with this arranged marriage but I had no choice. I needed to do this to keep the war between our families at bay. I didn’t love Bucky but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him, especially right now covered in my ex’s blood as he towered over me. 

“This marriage isn’t real! You can’t defend my honor just because you feel like it. And you can’t kill everyone I ever dated because they touched me,” I yelled at him, holding my chin up high. 

Bucky’s nostrils flared, his anger radiating off of him in droves, and he leaned farther over me causing my body to fall to the bed. His arms locked me in on both sides of my head and I felt his scorching breath fanning over my lips. We were so close that if I titled my head up just a tad, I would finally be able to figure out what he tasted like; a month into this marriage and we had barely touched, even though I couldn’t deny I wanted to know what it felt like. 

“Let’s make one thing clear here. You’re mine, solnyshka. Anyone who disrespects you will pay a price, regardless of who they are,” Bucky pressed his hips against mine. 

I sucked in a breath when his cock brushed along my pussy, over the silk fabric of my pajama shorts. My hands shook at my sides, unsure what to do with them, so Bucky grabbed them and pinned both of them above my head; both wrists fitting in one of his hands. 

“Wh-what did you call me?” I choked out, suddenly realizing what he said. 

His nose brushed along my jawline, breathing me in. 

“Solnyshka,” Bucky almost purred. 

I swallowed thickly, doing my best to keep my strong hold against him even though it was faltering with every brush of his cock against me. He was slowly dry humping me and I was giving back to him with even strokes. There was still dried blood across his bare chest painting him in crimson, and I could still smell the lingering copper scent. 

“What if I don’t like it?” I panted, nearly gone in bliss. 

He groaned while grazing his teeth along my jugular. “Too bad because it stays. Solnyshka.”

With one of his hands still keeping mine locked about my head, his other slipped underneath my nightshirt to graze over my blazed skin. We were like a couple of horny teenagers that found their first moment alone with each other with how frenzied our movements were against each other. My orgasm was building slowly, the familiar tingling sensation in the base of my spine. It was so close, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue and I wanted nothing more than to scream out his name as I came undone underneath Bucky. 

“How wet are you, solnyshka?” He flicked his tongue against my earlobe. “I bet you're soaked just from this.”

I nodded, too far gone now to try and fight against him. I needed this release more than oxygen and it was almost as if Bucky understood because his hand slipped between us to tease my folds over my shorts. 

“I fucking knew it,” he chuckled darkly. “How bad do you want my cock, Y/N?” 

I bit the inside of my cheek, not wanting to give away how bad I actually wanted this. Instead I raised my hips up towards his hands, a silent beg falling from my lips. 

“Use your words,” Bucky demanded before smacking my pussy. 

“Shit!” I cried out. “Fuck you!”

He wrapped one of my legs around his back so he could press his clothed cock over my pussy at a different angle and it was everything I needed for the coil to snap. 

“Oh god,” my body convulsed underneath Bucky as I let my orgasm overcome all of my senses. 

White hazy stars danced at the edges of my vision. 

I could taste the blood from Bucky’s chest as I lapped at it, unknowingly. 

All the noises around me seemed to fade away. The only thing I could hear was Bucky’s grunts as he continued to dry fuck me. 

At some point he let go of my hands and my nails scratched at Bucky’s back, working myself through the aftershocks. 

The scent of his cologne hung along the edge of my nose as I breathed him in. 

“That’s such a good girl, Y/N. You sound so pretty when you cum,” Bucky praised while dragging his teeth along the side of my neck. 

My jaw fell slack when I finally came down from my high and Bucky began raising the hem of my shirt up over my stomach. 

“You can lie all you want, Y/N. But what you saw downstairs turned you on,” he flicked his eyes up at me from his new position over my belly. 

“You’re crazy,” I breathed, letting my eyes flutter shut. 

“For you,” before dragging my shorts down my legs. 

[monolotus]

Why Seventeen would stop an argument

So, arguments in a relationship are healthy, and the members know how to handle discussions after so many years with their members. But, why would they stop their anger or end their bickering?

SCOUPS: To cuddle aggressively

“You can´t go to sleep angry at eachother" Most people could, your boyfriend tho? He would rather die.

It really doesn’t matter what you two fought about. It doesn´t matter if you two were in the edge or just discussing an online debate- he will make you cuddle him at night.

“Seungcheol, i´m still mad about you killing me in LOL and laughing it off with Wonwoo" Oh, too bad, because he will make you the little spoon and kiss your face multiple times.

One time he didn’t cuddle you after a small fight, and when he turned to look at you, he saw your puppy eyes. "are you that mad?" you asked, and his heart broke. "i thought you didn´t like cuddling after a fight"

After that, he never lets you go to sleep without his arms around your middle.

JEONGHAN: He is just too soft for the atmosphere

You know how he doesn´t fight with Scoups because he just doesn´t create the atmosphere to create a fight?

It´s the very same thing with you.

Yes, maybe he did arrive two nights in a row too late to your house. But he is quick to apologize, promising to spend the whole weekend glued to your side (and actually doing so)

Yes, maybe he did reschedule your date to go hang out with his friends, but he shows up in your favorite outfit of his, handing in a bag of clothing for you for the night.

But, when the fight does eventually break out, he doesn’t yell nor raise his voice. He tries to understand where you’re coming from, and explains his situation.

He will do his best to meet you in the middle of the solution.

JOSHUA: To offer a sarcastic apology and instantly regret it.

That big mouth of his…

You were craving fried chicken, and you had told him.

And, he knew that in his way to your house after his schedule he would pass a restaurant that sells fried chicken… it’s self explanatory, right?

“I’m sooo sorry I didn’t read your mind, M'lady… wait come back.”

So, when that big mouth of his tries to be sarcastic about your cravings, and he sees you rolling your eyes and going on your phone, he knows he talked too much.

He rushes towards you, ready to order the whole chicken store for you.

You really tried to hold in your laughter, but it’s so hard when he is being sarcastic towards himself.

And, oh well, that big mouth of his does say really cute things to make it up to you.

JUN: Because he suddenly feels bad for the neighbors hearing all the tea with no context.

It was a stupid online debate thing.

It really, really was.

But your boyfriend is a hot headed, and you are too witty with your words.

And you two end up raising your voices to make yourself heard over the other´s voice.

The problem? your apartment has apartments walls.

And when you two hear a loud laugh after your boyfriend makes a really bad point, he remembers how thin the walls are.

“wait, are they going to think i’m in the wrong?”

“i need to calm down. i can’t have your neighbors thinking you’re dating a dumb ass”

HOSHI: Because he got too passionate and forgot to breathe properly

he’s rushing trying to find the right words.

he’s rushing as his brain works faster than his tongue.

the problem? he only has two lungs.

“𝑤ℎ𝑦 ᶜᵃⁿ´ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿˀ"

you couldn’t breath properly, he really ran out of breath… from just talking

he became red, laughing it off before hiding his face behind his hands.

Good to say, you won that one round.

in the next one, this was obviously brought up. And also at the next get togheter with his friends

WONWOO: Because he can’t multitask and the microwave just beeped

He really wants to win this argument, he does.

But, the microwave keeps beating, and his attention keeps on going to the little rectangle.

“That was the most passive-aggressive BEEP I’ve ever heard. I have to check on it.”

He was so frustrated as he walked to the kitchten, especially after listening to your loud laugh.

is not his fault tho? He has to put his whole brain to win this argument, but he keeps being distracted by the microwave.

WOOZI: Because your sad face made him laugh by accident

It was a serious conversation.

Jihoon was trying his best to not sound too serious or mean.

He even kept a guide on his notes app to not loose track

But then, he looked up.

“Stop. Why do you look like a guilty cartoon dog?”

Your eyes were bigger than usual, and they weren´t really filled with tears, but the light was hitting enough for them to shine

Ah, the winning writer can´t follow the guide when it comes to you.

MINGHAO: To tell you that your outfit is lacking, even if you’re being annoying

He had had a rough morning, rushed to the afternoon where he was supposed to take you to dinner with his friends.

The thing is, you totally forgot (to your defense, he had told you a week before, and he forgot to remind you!)

So, being rushed to get ready in thirty minutes was putting you on the edge.

You grabbed the first thing you saw that could make a decent outfit.

Your boyfriend was still going off about your lateness, and you could tell he was having a blast by getting to not be the one being late.

“You’re wrong, but also... god, you´re wearing that shirt?”

As much as he would love to see your face when you step out and realise the dumb graphic tshirt you´re wearing, he likes you too much to let you do that.

And, also, he wanted to get nice pictures of you that night.

MINGYU: To take a “sad but hot” selfie.

You had said some pretty... serious? things about the relationship last night

What you wanted and what you needed to change in the way you two communicate, and spent time. Just to name a few.

After that, you left Mingyu´s apartment, leaving him alone to think about what he had said, and what you said.

So, imagine your surprise when you went to check his finsta... and saw a thirst trap?

Sending a "why do you look like you cried?" with the picture to his chat, he was quick to explain himself

“I’m not crying, I’m creating content" was his explaination.

SEOKMIN: To dramatically fake faint and make it your problem

He hates arguments.

For real, he would take all the blame just to not have any bad tension between you two.

Yes, he does understand that healthy relations come from awkard conversations.

Yes, he also hates seeing you upset mid-conversation.

He learned to give you space after a pretty ugly talk, not without letting you know "subtly" that he is not mad.

This time, you had asked him to leave you alone. Just for a couple of minutes, to put your thoughts back in order.

Scrolling on your phone, you could see your boyfriend hestitating to enter the room. Once he did, he tried to be as quick as possible

“I’m leaving. But first I need my charger."

You smiled, how could you not love him?

SEUNGKWAN: To dramatically walk away but come back for their charger

"Oh, so you hate me now?" is the most common phrase to hear whenever you and Seungkwan start bickering.

And, when he hits that line, you got two options: yes or no.

With the "No", he is going to pout, saying he feels hated.

It´s so weird whenever the bickering ends up in "Yes, i do hate you"

But Seungkwan is so quick with his answer-

“I can’t take this anymore...” Followed by collapsing on your direction.

VERNON: To send a meme that proves his point

Dating somebody that just apologizes as soon as the fight breaks in, is so boring.

You two were playing fight, and when an awkard elbow hitted you on the ribs, you were quick to pretend to be mad.

So, you two ended on differents sides of the couch, trying oh so hard to pretend to be mad.

You could see his fingers texting somebody, and as you looked down on your phone, you saw it:

“Check your phone. That meme? That’s you.”

DINO: Because he forgot if he had already moisturized and now needs to restart his whole skincare routine

You were railed-up. going off about what had happened at class that day. Your boyfriend listened attentively, while starting to clean his face.

As you were explaining how childish your classmate was being, he reminded you you were also not taking the high way.

So, when you become red in the face and start going on him having to take your side, he nods. The thing is, you can see in his face he is trying really hard to think about something, you could even see the gears turn in his head.

" Babe, what are you thinking about? Is not that hard to take the side of the love of your life!"

“I can’t argue dry-faced. Give me a sec.”

more / asks & requests are open!

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

What do you think of Bryan Q. Miller’s characterisation of Stephanie Brown?

Mixed feelings!! On one hand, I have a huge soft spot for Batgirl 2009 and Steph’s narrative of perseverance and dragging yourself up and to bigger and better things after what should have been total destruction is just so so important to me. It’s great for that, and for giving Steph’s character a proper spotlight and ‘redemption’ when she very well could have been relegated to the sidelines, forever haunted by her brutal fridging. And I understand why BQM might not have wanted to dredge up War Games- Batgirl 2009 is a chance for Steph’s character to move past the shitty sexist torture porn story she was killed off in. But on the other hand, the almost total absence of it to the story feels conspicuous and strange, and I really wish we could’ve gotten a characterization of Steph that felt a little more grounded in it. If that makes sense?

She’s sort of at an all time low before Batgirl 2009. Not only has she survived the brutality of War Games, the fake death retcon returns her in uncertain graces with the other characters. Her life is uprooted, the future of her character is unsteady, and to top it off she ends Robin 1993 portrayed as disgraced and foolish, as having proven Yet Again, that Steph is proven absolutely not good enough to be a vigilante.

But none of that emotion fully carries over into Batgirl 2009? Steph seems fine enough, and while I can (and do!) read that as a repression fake-it-till-you-make-it thing, a more explicit thing might’ve been nice?

I have a few small, line by line nitpicks, for example the whole ‘forgetting Steph sews’ thing rly bothers me because it’s just such a consistent trait and to me it’s so so essential that Steph makes her own OG costume - it really communicates her self-starter ‘I’ll do it myself’ personality and how it works with her vigilantism.

Also, for a comic where Crystal has so many appearances and so much potential power in the story, I feel like we missed out on a lot of Steph and hers relationship, I don’t know if I love how Steph is characterized in relation to Crystal and would have loved something a little more attached to her history with her mom.

Just generally, I find it unfortunate that much like a lot of Tim’s characterization in the early post-Flashpoint was heavily influenced by his portrayal in Red Robin, Steph’s more blatant bubbly-ness of Batgirl 2009 became sort of her baseline post new 52. Of course, Steph’s character has always been a little silly, and she’s always told her jokes, but a lot of her other (really important!!!) traits like her anger, and her grit, and her angst, and her pessimism have been much less prominent. But I rly don’t blame Batgirl 2009 for that so much. Just an unfortunate side effect of the reboot that has unfortunately really stuck around.

So I guess, overall my biggest thing is I wouldve prefer if BQMs characterization of Steph was just more grounded in her history.

Would love to hear others thoughts on this bc I fear I probably have my biases and preferences interfering here to a degree. Thank you for the ask!! 💜

[shima-draws]

YIPPEE it's Malachi's updated design!! Not much has changed he's just showing his shoulders now like a s l u t

Original post for him from last year is here! But just to make things easier I'll put all his character details under the cut on this post as well ✨

Name: Malachi (Codename: Valet, Nickname: Machi/Mal)

Age: 28

Hair color: Brown (with white streaks)

Eye color: Gold

Element: Fire

The yin to Rozen’s yang 😤 A lot of his story has already been shared on Rozen’s post so I’ll just be copying over most of that!

Malachi had a relatively normal life growing up with a family who loved him, but their lives were brought to a violent end when they were suddenly attacked by a group of rogues after their fortune. Soon after he was brought to the same orphanage Rozen was part of. Losing his parents was traumatic for Malachi; he retreated within himself and could really only express himself through anger and hatred in an attempt to deal with the loss.

Out of everyone in the orphanage Malachi butted heads with Rozen the most, finding his similar prickly personality and arrogance to be extremely irritating. Rozen viewed Malachi as a little brat and basically had the opinion of “boo hoo you’re an orphan well at least your parents loved you and didn’t throw you away like mine did”. (So, a biiiiit of jealousy there. LMAO) Malachi correctly called him out for being a total fake, knowing that his entire life was just an act. They were definitely at each other’s throats for a while!

All of this changed when Rozen got a bit too big for his britches and pissed off the wrong crowd. Surprisingly, Malachi rescued him from being beaten to absolute shit and Rozen was shocked that Malachi actually helped him. Even though he’d been through some hardships Malachi was still a kind person at heart, and couldn’t just leave Rozen to get hurt (even though he was really tempted to lol). Rozen started to soften up around him after this, and slowly started to drop his defenses and show his true personality. Despite Malachi finding Rozen’s change of heart “creepy”, and his sudden personality change kind of drastic, he couldn’t help but grow attached to him too. Before long they were practically attached at the hip, and if you saw one of them you’d know the other wasn’t too far behind.

At this point Rozen was fully himself instead of the persona/act he’d been putting on for all his life. AKA he essentially has the personality of a golden retriever, is kind of an airhead (or an idiot, according to Malachi), and is a total softie. Him finally showing his kinder side helped Malachi too, and eventually, after spending two years together, Malachi was crushing on him HARD lol. Of course, Rozen only really viewed Malachi as a best friend, especially due to their age difference (being 4 years apart, with Rozen being 17 at the time and Malachi being 13). Both of them had the opinion that the other had saved them, in a way. Malachi depended heavily on Rozen, who helped him through his trauma and helped him come to terms with his parents’ death. They both looked at each other and thought “there’s still good in the world after all” 😭

Throughout the two years they spent together, Malachi actually grew quite close with one of the local shop owners, a lovely girl who ran a bakery. She was endlessly kind to him and sparked a passion in him, which lead to him wanting to learn how to bake. Most evenings he’d find himself in her shop learning the ropes (with Rozen mooching off of his end results lol). Malachi mused that maybe one day he could use his skills to make his own pastries and get paid for it ;)

As time went on Rozen and Malachi became more and more determined to leave the orphanage together, either being adopted as a package deal or just leaving when they were finally of age. This came crashing down when a couple looking to adopt just Malachi showed up, and despite the pair’s attempts to sabotage any sort of chance Malachi would get adopted, the couple was insistent on taking him home. This sparked some suspicion in Rozen, wondering just why they were so intent on Malachi. He soon found out that these people were connected to the rogues that had killed Malachi’s parents–they were seeking the same fortune and knew that Malachi was the key to finding it. Rozen confronted them and convinced them to take him instead, as Malachi had told him he had no idea about his parents’ riches so he’d essentially be useless to the couple. Rozen offered his services and promised he would stop at nothing to find them the treasure, as long as they left Malachi alone. The couple agreed.

Malachi, of course, was devastated to find out about Rozen being adopted (and right before he’d become of age too), not wanting to be apart from him. Rozen explained his reasoning and revealed it was all part of his plan–he’d go away with the couple and then slip back to the orphanage in the middle of the night, where he and Malachi would run away together. With a promise to return, Rozen left with the couple, leaving Malachi behind to wait.

Malachi didn’t get the chance to wait, unfortunately, because suddenly the village was attacked, and the orphanage was set on fire. Desperate to get to Rozen, Malachi tried in vain to get out, but found himself trapped. He was burned badly by the fire, and right as he thought he was going to die, he suddenly awakened his elemental powers–the power of fire. Ironic that the thing to save him was the thing that hurt him in the first place. Using this gift, he was able to escape the building, and was rescued by none other than the baker girl he’d been training under. She rushed him off to the nearest recovery shelter, and after days of being unconscious, when he awoke she broke the news to him that Rozen was most likely dead. She explained that the couple who had adopted him were found slaughtered in a nearby manor, along with all of their associates, and that they were found out to be criminals. Malachi was absolutely heartbroken by the news and demanded more details about Rozen. The girl told him that Rozen’s body was not found, but it was unlikely that he escaped unscathed. This was enough for Malachi, who was certain that Rozen was out there alive somewhere. Maybe he’d come back to the orphanage and was waiting for him right now!

The baker girl took Malachi to the now destroyed orphanage in an attempt to find Rozen. However, Rozen wasn’t there. Malachi refused to give up and decided to wait for him. Days passed and with no further sign that Rozen would show the baker girl gently told him that maybe it was time for him to move on. Devastated, Malachi still remained stubborn and told her he would wait, despite knowing that it wasn’t likely Rozen would come back for him. But there HAD to be a reason, right? Maybe Rozen was in trouble. If he had been attacked that night, maybe he couldn’t make it back to the village. Maybe…

Malachi was placed under the baker girl’s care, and from there he began his search. Any sort of leads or sightings of Rozen was the treasure he sought after for the next 15 years, absolutely determined to find any clues to his whereabouts. Between his searching, he continued to hone his craft as a baker, along with learning how to use his magic. Eventually he was scouted by a sort of intelligence agency, who promised to help him in his search for Rozen in return for his services. Malachi leapt at the chance, knowing that this would open avenues previously off limits to him.

After years of essentially being an agent, and now a very skilled fighter, Malachi was given a new assignment–infiltrate an underground crime organization, a gambling ring, in order to get information so that they could eventually be dismantled. After being accepted into the organization under the codename “Valet” and meeting their leader, Roi, Malachi was shocked when he was introduced to one of Roi’s top members–a master of cards, a man by the codename of “Cavalier”. Malachi recognized him immediately. It was Rozen!! Finally, after years of searching he’d found the person he’d been looking for. Rozen didn’t seem to recognize him, but, well. Malachi couldn’t really blame him, he HAD changed a lot over the past decade or so. (It stung though, just a little bit.)

Malachi was immediately ready to blow his cover and abandon the mission in order to get Rozen out; this was part of the terms he’d set with the agency–if at any point he found Rozen, or if the agency found Rozen for him, he’d be able to leave of his own volition. However, the agency refused to let him blow his cover, saying the mission was too important, and that Rozen, working directly under Roi, was likely in grave danger. (To Malachi, this seemed like an even bigger reason to get Rozen out ASAP.)

After a lot of back and forth Malachi finally came to an agreement with his agency, but he was NOT happy about it. He had to spend the next several months undercover as Valet, tortured by the fact that Rozen was literally within reach but he couldn’t do shit about it. And to top it all off, he witnessed everything happening behind the scenes–how toxic Roi was, how he manipulated and threatened and abused Rozen, and Malachi was seconds away from attempting murder at any given time. All he can do is be as sympathetic as possible and try to butt into his business, urging him to break free from Roi and find a better path in life. Rozen isn’t too happy with someone intruding on his personal matters and lashes out at Malachi, causing a rift between them. Malachi only wants to help and doesn’t want to see Rozen suffer; Rozen knows better than anyone that there’s no escape from Roi and has resigned himself to his fate–and he doesn’t want to see Malachi get hurt either.

This is when Nahu and co. come in ;)

Nahu and co. are sent to infiltrate the gambling ring, and immediately things are thrown into absolute chaos. After many twists and turns (and plot), Nahu goes to face off against Roi in one final fight. Roi captures Rozen and chains him up, unwilling to let his perfect pawn go free, and poisons him so that he loses any strength to escape. While Nahu is absolutely wrecking shit fighting Roi, Malachi sneaks up to where Rozen is being held and attempts to set him free. Through the haze, Rozen witnesses “Valet” trying to free him, and sadly reminisces about Malachi. Rozen tells Malachi to let him go, to let him die–that way he can be with the only person he cares about again. Malachi yells at him and says no, he can’t die, because HE’S Malachi! Screw his cover, screw everything he’d been taught about keeping his identity secret, Malachi’s been suffering for MONTHS and he won’t let Rozen go now that he’s so close.

Nahu defeats Roi, and before Rozen succumbs to the poison, Malachi threatens him and says he’d better not die before he can kick his ass. Days later he finally wakes up to find Malachi beside him, and immediately bursts into tears. Malachi explains everything about his past, about what happened that night, about how and why he’d infiltrated the gambling ring, and about how desperate he’d been to reveal himself to Rozen. Malachi tells him that he hadn’t thought of anything else but finding him for the past 15 years, and now that he’d found Rozen he’d never leave his side again 🥺 Rozen feels the same way. They both realize they’re probably in trouble, with Malachi prepared to abandon his duty to be with Rozen and Rozen with his…complicated history being involved in an underground crime organization. LMAO

Luckily for them, Nahu is all about recruiting them, and they both agree to join his squad <3 Their new life together begins!! Rozen has to grapple with the fact that Malachi is definitely not the kid he used to know and has grown up, a lot. Malachi, meanwhile, has been in love with Rozen since he was 12 and is trying everything he can to properly express that. Rozen slowly comes to terms with the fact that yeah, he’s probably in love with Malachi, and things just get more interesting from there as they dance around each other for months just trying to figure it out ;)

[capesch-arts]

Angst Joy drabble

CW: idk what to put this with other than eldritch god toxic relationship with his super loyal follower. Also transphobia? Idk you're gonna see what I'm talking about.

I've said before that Joy was born in 1892 and he's around in his 50s in the Faroeverse. He appears in his 30s because the King gives him a layer of glamour. Joy has two layers The King gives him.

The first one is the glamour that breaks easily and just reveals his real age. The second one is the "transition" layer. And if the latter breaks, it does exactly what you think it does.

Why does he have this second layer? It's a leash. The King is extremely possessive of his artists, Joy included despite his overwhelming loyalty, and would have certain "fail-safes" to keep them around him.

Where am I going with this?

When Arthur was still alive and on the run with Jane's book, Joy was tasked specifically to hunt him down and catch him alive to throw his ass to The Dreamlands. But, he kept failing and failing, and each time The King grew ire while Joy grew sad because he couldn't fulfill The King's orders.

One day, The King's anger was at its peak. Random cultists get killed and Joy could only lower his head in silence, welcoming his death if The King wanted to end his life as well. But instead, what did The King do? In his blind rage, he broke Joy's second layer. Bit by bit.

It was after he heard Joy cry and begged him to stop did The King realize what he was doing. He was taking apart his most beloved follower in the cruelest way. He abruptly stopped, healed Joy back, and left him alone for a whole month because The King thought Joy would need the silence from The King. In reality, he's afraid he'll break Joy again. Joy never cried or begged anything from The King, and to hear him so desperate and broken really snapped him back.

Despite this, The King's anger towards Arthur became more intense, and after the month was over he told Joy to just kill Arthur on sight.

As a wholesome end, after Arthur befriended him and changed him, The King treated Joy better. He gave him real boundaries, he gave him a choice to stay or leave (Joy wants to stay), and finally gave him what Joy yearned most. The King loved him for who he is and not as a loyal cultist anymore.

[ghosty-writes-23]

The Ghost Of You. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: NSFW Content, Mental Health, Depression, Porn With Plot, Desperation, Longing, Guilt, Soft!Leon, Slight Hesitation, Eating out, Consensual Sex, P in V, !Wrap It Before You Tap It!, I'm Not Coming Home Pt. 2.

Pairing: RE4R!Leon + Ex!Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature.

Summary: After 6 long painful years of grief, pain and suffering you came face to face with the impossible, Leon was alive and somewhat okay, you were overwhelmed with emotions ranging from anger and betrayal to happiness and desire to see that your Leon was alive, and that was how you two ended up in a hotel room stripping off each other’s drenched clothing, as the old spark between you two was reignited as if it never left even after all these years.

Word Count: 4.2k

Ghosty's Notes: Hello my lovelies, I’m so sorry this took me so long to write and an even bigger sorry to the person that requested for this and waited so long, I had been kind of in a writer’s block space and going through some personal stuff but I am slowly getting back into writing, I even listening to some music while writing this and couldn’t help but thing the rhythm to Flesh by Simon Curtis was the perfect rhythm to describe Leon’s thrust rhythm in this story, I’ll link the song below if anybody wants to check it out. Thank you so much for reading and there is more to come in the future.

(If a text is leaning like This, it means it’s a flashback.)

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Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

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September 30th, 1998, the worst day of your life you lost your Leon….

You world changed since that day your shared bedroom still smelt like his cologne you brought him every year that he always forgot to put the cap back on after using it, his hoodie still hanging on the end of the bed post as if he will be back to collect it or put it away after you scold him for not putting his dirty clothes in the laundry bin beside the door.

“Leon put your clothes in the laundry basket.” You playfully scold him as were leaning against the door frame of your shared bedroom. “I will just..” he says before he tosses his hoodie at the basket but it caught on the end bedpost causing a soft laugh to leave your lips. “good thing you’re a cop and not a basketball player.” You playfully tease him before he pulled you onto him causing you to squeal softly as you landed on top of him. “you wound me Y/n.” Leon says with a playful pout, but you just smiled at him before you kissed him.

As the memory flashed in your eyes a sad smile came onto your face as tears welled up in your eyes, grabbing the hoodie you were going to put it in the basket but you brought the hoodie up to your nose and inhaled, as the familiar scent of his cologne, fabric softer that Leon claimed made his clothes smell like warm summer day and something that was uniquely Leon tears started to run down your face and soaking into the fabric.

The dam broke as sob left your lips as your grip on the hoodie tightened, it wasn’t a neat or quiet cry it was the kind that felt as if your ribs had caved in your chest, that made your throat tighten and breaths come out in choked gasps.

“I can’t do this without you Leon.” You gasped through your sobs as your voice broke and squeaked. “We had plans, you where going to propose, you promised me forever not this.” You cried as you tried to control your breathing knowing if you didn’t calm down soon you would have a panic attack.

Curling in on yourself you pulled your knees to your chest as you clung to Leon’s old hoodie, the ache inside you body was dense and heavy the grief didn’t scream in your head, but it dragged in your mind with each passing moment, you hate the sun for rising, the air continuing to move around you and world expect going as if nothing had happen while you had just lost your world.

Soon There was soft footsteps padding into your bedroom, you didn’t have the energy in your body to even look up but when you smelt a familiar sweet and floral perfume you knew it was your mother, she must of rushed over this morning.

“Oh, baby mom’s here.”

Your mother cooed before she wrapped her arms around you from behind but firm as if she was holding the broken pieces of you together, you collapsed into her embrace as another fresh wave of sobs broke past your lips. Your mother didn’t say anything which you were grateful for as she started to gently stroke your hair, as she rocked back and forth slightly like she did when you came to her as a child after having a nightmare, but sadly this nightmare was real and your mother couldn’t make this one go away or protect you from it.

“He was a good kid Leon was, selfless and warm.” Your mother whispered softly as she placed a gently kiss on your forehead as she was still gently rocking you. “He was a part of this family, and he always will be.” Your mother spoke as shakey breaths left your lips as you breathing was slowly coming down.

“It hurts mom.” You whispered softly, your voice was rough and dry from all the crying. “I know darling it’s going to hurt for a while but promise your father and I will always be there to help you with whatever you need.” You mom reassured you which made you feel a little better but not a whole lot. “We weren’t meant to grow old together, have kids and get married.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Your mom’s voice cracked as she tightened her grip on you and her fingers never left your hair. You both stayed like this for hours curled up on your bed with the curtains drawn, even though the would outside the room didn’t stop with cars driving down the road, children laughing and playing outside and birds chirping, but in the bedroom time did still for a moment, the pain in your chest was there but with your mothers affection it was slowly dulling.

Years Later.

It was the kind of made the world warm even though it was cold outside, golden, yellow and red hue coloured leaves decorating the roads, pavements and streets. The scent of cinnamon and pumpkin spice lattes where a stable scent in café’s at this time of year.

Autumn was always Leon’s favourite season, he loved jumping into piles of leaf’s which would then cause you to have to pluck them out of his hair as if he was a messy puppy with his big and bright blue eyes looking up at you with warmth and affection that would always melt your heart.

You hadn’t been back to town since Leon’s funeral it was a very small service but you were grateful people came out, you got to meet some of his friends from the police academy and some friends you shared in your friend group. You moved out of town not long after you needed to get away from everything a fresh start but you always held Leon in your heart, his ring sat against your chest on a chain you never took it off and haven’t dated anybody new since their was only one man for you.

The reason you were back in town is because your sister was getting married, but there was dull ache in your chest as you walked down the familiar streets, she would have changed the wedding venue but you knew how much she wanted to get married at the church here because of the beautiful views and it was a beautiful church itself and you didn’t want your sister to miss out.

Currently you where sat in a small café, it was an old one you and Leon used to visit when he would drop you off for your morning classes, when you were still half asleep because you missed your alarms and rushed to get everything ready in time without being late. A warm cup of coffee was between your hands but it was mostly untouched.

It was a caramel latte with extra caramel Leon always had a massive sweet tooth which would cause a lot of trips to the dentist for tooth aches, but yet he never lessen his sugar intake claiming “I’m a big boy and don’t need adult supervision.” Yet whine when his teeth where aching because he ate to much sour straps.

The world move outside, slow and quiet with leaves tumbling from the trees like burnt paper falling to the ground, then being crushed by either somebody stepping on them or by a car tire, but as your eyes watched life past by a set of eyes caught your attention, they belonged to a man across the road he was wearing a long black coat and a grey scarf.

His legs where crossed as he sat outside reading the paper he looked exhausted with bags under his eyes and his skin was a little gaunt as if he wasn’t taking care of himself or overworking himself, his dark blonde hair fell in front of his eyes caused by a soft breeze which made your heart clench slightly as if it knew this man.

But when he titled his head up as a waitress came over to him you felt all the air escape your lungs. “No it can’t you.” You choked out softly as your fingers started to tremble around your glass, your heart tightening in your chest slowly you stood up and made your way outside your coffee forgotten about as you walked over to the man.

There was no way after all this time your mind was playing tricks on you. Crossing the road you where only a couple steps away from him, you heard him curse about the cold weather before you took a deep breath, deep down you kind of hoped it was your mind playing tricks on you and this wasn’t the man that had been haunting your dream for years, that slipped through your fingers.

Before you could get any words out he looked at you and his eyes widened slightly as if he never expected to see you here, he coughed slightly before he stood up you froze on the spot before he came towards you his steps purposeful before his body crashed against yourself and his arms wrapped around you tightly in a bone crushing hug.

“L-Leon.” You choked out as you where trying your hardness to not cry again, but it was so hard when this man felt like your Leon. “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” The man spoke before he pulled away slightly and when you looked up at his face and you knew in that moment this man was your Leon, you broke down into a loud sob as you clung to him tightly your hands digging into the fabric of his coat but you could feel him holding your body close to his.

“Your alive.” You say against his chest as he rubbed your back with his hand as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear to try and calm you down. “I know explain to do and I want to tell you, but I just can’t not yet.” Leon says but you silenced him by kissing him hard, there was nothing gentle about the kiss it was raw, rough nearly borderline painful as if years of grief and pain mixed with desperation and desire for one and another. You devoured Leon as if his kisses where oxygen and not in the middle of the street but lucky it was mostly empty today because of the weather.

You felt Leon’s hand trail down to your jawline as if he was holding you with the outmost care and tenderness as you were sure both of your lips would be bruised and puffy when you pulled away from the kiss. You moaned into the kiss and tightened your grip on his coat, scared that if you let go he will disappear or that this was a dream that you never wanted to wake up from. Your tears started to mix into the kiss before you felt Leon wipe them away with his thumb before breaking the kiss leaving you both panting.

“You’re an asshole.” You whispered softly before Leon just nodded his head as he rested his forehead against yours. “I know I had no choice.” He spoke as he was still gently rubbing your cheek softly. “I suffered because of you, cried for you.” You say to him, and he nodded a pained look on his face. “I know and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you Y/n cross my heart I will, if you will let me.” Leon says as he pulls you into an alley, his back was against the brick wall as he pulled you against him.

Then his lips found yours again, expect this time the kiss was different it was more slow, gentle as he cradled your head as his hands went into your head, you melted into the kiss instantly your eyes fluttered closed and you let him take the lead of the kiss as your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. His other had was mapping out your body as if he never forgot what made you trick and shudder. When you felt his cold hand on the bare skin of your back you gasped softly and arched your back slightly.

“I missed that sound.” Leon groaned softly against your lips before his lips trailed down your neck placing soft and gentle kisses. “I dreamt of touching you again, hearing your whimpers and moans.” Leon mumbled softly against your neck causing a soft whimper to leave your lips. “Leon…” you breathed out his name as you gently tugged on his hair so he would look at you, he looked at you with slightly puffy and bruised lips, his pupils where blow wide but they still held that warm and affectionate look that made your heart melt every time.

“if you disappear again or make me thing you’re dead, I will hunt you down and kill you myself.” You softly threaten him, and this caused him to chuckle softly as he rested his head on the top of your chin. “yes ma’am.” He said with a laugh, but you knew that he knew you weren’t joking not after this time, but for the first time in 6 years your heart finally felt a little lighter and your mind was finally slient and not filled with guilt and grief, you felt like you could actually breath.

A Little Later.

By the time you and Leon stumbled into the GlassLane hotel foyer you were both drenched, Leon’s coat you were wearing was now sticking to your body like a second skin and your hair sticking to your face, Leon’s t-shirt was almost shrink wrapped over his body letting you see every detail from his well built physic to some new scars you could see on his body causing you to frown slightly. The woman at the front desk just gave you a friendly smile as she handed over the key after Leon paid before you could protest.

Room 208….

You two didn’t even make it to the elevator to go to the second floor before your hands where on each other again, lips clashing together and if you where devouring each other as the elevator door opened, Leon gently pressed you in and pushed you up against the wall as he pressed the button for the second floor without breaking the kiss.

As you both stumbled into the hotel room your breaths where ragged as you both where pulling at each other’s clothing, as the door finally closed behind you Leon gently pressed you against it using his body, your arms instantly wrapped around his neck as he gently tugged off his coat you were wearing, then started to unbutton the top you were wearing, his movements were a little clumsy before he got a little frustrated before he grabbed the sides of the shirt and ripped as if it was paper, buttons flying on the ground as you gasped softly.

“Leon.” You scold him but he shushed you by kissing you and gently rolled his tongue into your mouth causing a soft noise to leave your lips as your cheeks coloured. Your own hands tugged off his shirt and threw it somewhere in the room, a shiver ran down your body when you felt the cold breeze on your wet skin.

When you felt Leon’s lips on your neck his hand’s gently tapped the back of your thighs, you instantly wrapped your legs around his hips as he lifted you up with ease then he walked over to the bed.

You fell with a soft thud before you looked up at Leon breathing heavily, his cheeks were coloured slightly pink as his breath came out in soft pants, you wanted to cover up it had been so long since Leon saw you naked and somethings didn’t look as ‘youthful’ as they used too, but when Leon kneeled down you went up on your elbows to watch him.

He look your right leg and started to place gentle kisses on the wet fabric but it sent small little shocks up your body, each kiss was soft and slow as he trailed them higher and once he reached your hips, he did the same with the left leg. You had to bit your lip to keep a moan from leaving your lips, as you felt Leon’s kisses trailing up your hips to your stomach.

“Can I take these off.” Leon asked as you felt his hand’s on your pants, you nodded your head giving him your consent, your body was almost buzzing at the feeling of his hands on your body. Carefully he unbuckled your belt and then popped the button to your pants then slowly slid them down leaving you in your panties and bra, as well as the ripped sheds of your shirt.

“God your still so beautiful.” Leon groaned softly as he looked at you, the look in his eyes made you blush even more, you weren’t as skinny as you used to be but lately you had been starting to go back to the gym since your therapist thought some physical activity would be great for your mental health. “Leon.” You were about to protest but he shook his head as he placed a soft kiss on your stomach, his hand’s either side of your hips almost holding you in place.

“I love you just the way you are, we are human we aren’t going to look like we did when we were younger, but seeing you like this makes me want you even more.” Leon says as he placed open mouth kisses and soft little nips. Your fingers went into his dirty blonde hair and softly tugged causing him to groan softly as he leant into your touch with a soft rumble, while your other hand trailed down his back feeling the new scars and bumps as you tried to memorize it, you hand followed the muscle shape and lines, your touch gentle.

Soon you felt Leon’s tongue gently glide over your clothed folds causing a muffled moan to leave your lips as your nails dug into his back causing him to groan at the painful sensation. “Leon..” his name left your lips as your body tensed up, but Leon just smiled and gently laced his fingers with yours and softly squeezed.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I got you.” He whispers before he uses his other hand to gently pull your panties to the side revealing your slick folds, you felt embarrassed because of how you wet you were, but it had been so long since somebody touch you.

Leon placed a soft kiss on your clit causing you to arch you back a little, your grip on his hair instantly tightening, but Leon welcomed the pain before he ran the flat of his tongue up your folds, your thighs tensed up around his head. His tongue gently circled your clit before he teasingly lap at your entrance. When he would tease soft whimpers would leave your lips and when he gave in soft moans would leave your lips.

When you felt the familiar knot forming in your stomach you gently tugged on his hair, causing Leon to pull away his face was covered in your slick, his pupils were blown wide and he almost had a love drunk look on his face as there was a soft blush on his cheeks, how could somebody look so dirty yet so innocent at the same time.

“Why did you stop me baby.” Leon asked in an almost breathless whine, his breathing was heavy as he looked up at you not even bothering to wipe his face. “want to touch you too.” You managed to say before a small almost goofy look came onto his face. “as much as I want that, it’s been 6 years since I last tasted you.” Leon purred as he placed a soft lazy kiss on your pubic bone, you pouted slightly before soft moans left your lips as Leon leaned his head back down and as he slid his tongue back inside your entrance he gently squeezed your hand.

“Leoooon.” You whined softly but he just chuckled against your folds and just pulled you closer by your thighs to a point you were almost suffocating him. But when you would try and pull away he would just pull you closer to him. It wasn’t long before your back was arching off the bed as Leon’s name fell from your lips as you came on his tongue, to which he greedy lapped it up, when he finally pulled away he trailed kisses up your body, then captured your lips in a soft kiss.

You could taste yourself as his tongue rolled against yours, causing you to blush even more. When you finally broke the kiss Leon rested his forehead against yours. “We can stop of you want; we don’t have to..” Leon trailed off but you silenced him by pressing a soft kiss to his lips then leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed out a condom. Leon just smiled at you and kissed your forehead before he took the packet from you as you undid his belt and took his pants off, stripping him with the same carefulness he had done with you.

Once he was bare you took the condom packet from him and rolled it onto his cock, which you couldn’t help but think was bigger since the last time you saw it. “Your staring.” Leon says with a teasing tone to which you just playfully rolled your eyes before you laid on your stomach on the bed, not before Leon placed a pillow under your hips to make you more comfortable. There was a little bit of shuffling behind you before you felt Leon pressing his hips to the back of your ass.

“You Ready.” Leon asked you looking back over your shoulder you nodded your head as you bit your bottom lip as you felt the tip of his cock tease your entrance before he slowly started to push inside, inch by inch. His hand gripped the pillow by your head, and you could see the muscle and veins bulging as his fingers gripped into the soft material.

“Fuck Y/n.” Leon hissed, the sound of his voice caused you to clench around him, as he finally bottomed out inside of you, your gummy walls were fluttering around him and trying to pull him deeper. “Please move.” You whined softly you needed some kind of friction. Leon let out a ragged breath before he started to move his hips in a lazy roll at first, pulling soft moans and mews from you as you pushed your hips back against him, the pillow causing Leon to hit a certain angle when he fully bottomed out.

You where gripping the pillow under your head as you could feel your eyes rolling in the back of your head, you had forgotten how pleasurable sex was, you had tried once a couple of years after Leon’s ‘death’ but it just didn’t feel the same it didn’t feel this good.

“Faster Leon please.” You softly begged him, you let out a little squeal when he gripped your hips but that soon died down as Leon picked the pace and your moans and his grunts filled the room, you could almost see stars in your eyes as you felt your orgasm approaching as Leon was constantly hitting your sweetspot, as you started to tighten and clench around him. You turned your head and captured Leon’s lips in a kiss swallowing his grunts and groans as he pounded into you could feel him twitch with every thrust, he was close.

Gently nibbling on his bottom lip Leon groaned as he moved his hips faster and soon the knot in your stomach snapped as you came around him with a muffled cry, your body trembled as your back arched against him, he soon followed as he spilled into the condom with a muffled grunt against your lips. After a couple moments and the trembling subsided in your body Leon slowly pulled out and placed a kiss on your shoulder before he went to deal with the condom.

Watching him you finally got a good look at him, he definitely looked older but not a youthful older but a tired and worn out older, there was a new scar on his cheek that didn’t look older then a couple of days, but his body was littered with new scars and even some bruises that you only saw now but as you where going to say something Leon smiled and shook his head.

“We can talk about it later, but for now we are going to enjoy this moment okay.” Leon says as he slides back into bed and pulls you against his chest. “Okay but don’t think I am letting this go.” You says causing him to chuckle softly but his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. “I know sweetheart.” He says as he kissed your forehead.

And for the first time in years, you both felt at peace in each other’s arms, you were finally home and it was going to take a while to figure everything out but you would finally be okay, you both would be….

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2025. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[hkkuugu]

𐙚 what was i made for? - b.e

꩜ billie eilish x fem!reader

꩜ type - angst (i love writing sad things 😛)

꩜ warnings - angst , homophobic family , religious trauma ig??, sh (not detailed) , mentions of suicide , fluff at the end because yaaaa 😪

꩜ note - tw at the start , this is basically the same thing what happened to me soo 😋

it all suddenly happened.

you didn't want it to but what could you do? you could lie and say it isn't true , but you can't afford to lie to your loving parents.

the look of disgust and shame covered their faces , what can you do to make it better?

"how do you think your family members will react to you being on of those?" of course all they cared about was how others would perceive them , never how you feel.

what were you made for? were you made just to disappoint everyone? what's the point of living if you only bring shame to everyone around you?

"i will raise no daughter of mine to be gay , repent and pray for forgiveness" your dad's anger shining over his face. forgiveness for what? just for loving differently?

tears streaming down your face , your parents screaming profanities at you. what's the point of anything? you can never get things right. you only bring disappointment to them not success.

"pack your things and leave , i will not let no person apart of that disgusting community live under my rooftop that me and your father worked hard for" your mother finalised , you snapped out of your thoughts and you were shocked to say the least.

did they really think that less of you? was it that easy for them kick someone out that they've raised for years with love just because of who they chose to love?

you had no where to go , you've been all alone your life. taking your anger out on your skin was all you could do , atleast it made you feel something

but there was one place you could go to. billie's place. but what if she doesn't let you in , what if she kicks you out as well. she could never though , she loves you too much , she would never treat you horribly like how your parents are doing right now

you packed your things into a bag you found randomly in the back of your wardrobe , tears streaming down your face yet trying to hold in your sobs , a couple of cries and sobs escaping from your mouth , thoughts running in your mind having no space to think about what to do next

as soon as your done you grab your phone and leave immediately, not wanting to see their faces and terrified to hear what they might they say to you. you make a run for it , wanting to be in the arms of your long-time lover. she knew how your parents were , how you had to keep her a secret from them. she was okay with it , she was understanding and was maybe the only person there for you

as soon as you see the door leading to her home , you knock immediately knowing her parents and brother are home as well. you didn't care though only wanting to sleep this off and hoping its a nightmare that felt very real.

"y/n what are you doing here is everything okay?" billie's mother maggie answered concered for your sudden appearance

"is billie home?" was the only thing you could say , your voice hoarse from all of the crying you did and your energy all spent having to run to their house

"she's just upstairs at her room she's probably awake by now , do you need anything my love?"

maggie was always nice to you , she treated you as if you were her own daughter , oh how you wish your parents looked at you as if you were the best thing ever for them , all you wanted was a normal family. but were you deserving of it?

you shook your head and headed upstairs to billie's room , her red led lights illuminating from her door , and loud music blasting from her room. that was your favourite thing about her , how she could be so bold and stront yet such a softie just for you

you knocked twice and made your way in , she noticed you straight away. your dark underbags obvious underneath your eyes and how your face swelled due to how much you've been crying

"come here my love what's wrong?" she asked with her arms wide open waiting for you to fall into her , and you did , you always did , you could never say no to her warm cozy cuddles.

"it's okay sweetheart take your time you don't have to tell me straight away" her warm fingers tracing shapes and words onto your back , comforting you. her cuddles always distracted you from whatever is going on with you, she always knows what to do when you're feeling down

after a couple of minutes of you and your lover cuddling in silence , hearing a couple of sniffles from you here and there. you finally found the confidence to tell her what happened

"they kicked me out as if i was nothing to them , as if it was that easy for them to leave me , i just want to be myself without having to hide myself why cant i be normal?" after pausing for a bit you felt your tears forming again

"awh baby im sorry that you feel that way , you deserve way better than how they're treating you, you deserve the whole world" she hugged you tighter than before , signaling to you that she will never ever leave you

"how about you turn on that favourite movie of yours and i'll get some snacks for us" she offered to you, you could never say no so you nodded, a small smile appeared on your face which showed her how much that small yet big offer meant to you

you grabbed the tv remote while she went downstairs to get snacks for the both of you, you turning on a cheesy rom com was always a go-to for you, it always seemed to atleast make your day better

she came back with a large bag of takis for the both of you, some of your favourite sweets and drinks for you to share. she placed them on the table next to her bed and settled into bed with you, causing you to immediately feel warm and safe next to her presence. you started the movie and cuddled in whilst eating the snacks , at this point the movie was just in the background the both of you not focused on it

she hugged you tighter and closer, to the point where her hoodie engulfing you and you could smell her sweet vanilla shampoo, her smell always comforted you for some odd reason. everything about her did

"i would never leave you my love , never in another life or this one. im always here for you.always" were the last words you heard from her before exhaustion took over you , the heavy weight of the day's events lifting little by little , as long as billie was there with you

despite you being asleep, billie was wide awake drawing shapes on your lower back underneath your hoodie. which was her hoodie but then you ended up claiming it as yours as it reminded you of her everytime you wore it

"i love you always" was what she said before sleep over took her

꩜ a/n - i seriously have no idea how to end fics sorry if this is absolute shit

꩜ taglist !! - @st0nerlesb0 @bilswifee @yellowjacketsslvt69 @bitchesbrokenpromises @dollarsbills @ohokaydawg @dousleepanymore

[souliebird]

[[and i will never let you down]]

series: daredevil | pairing: benjamin poindexter x reader

summary: in the same universe as dance of the little swans. dex returns to you after being away for a few hours.

triggers: suicidal ideation & other typical daredevil content tags

No one looks twice at Dex as he strolls into the hotel lobby. 

He blends right in with the elite clientele in his pressed business suit and ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think’ attitude. His eyes sweep the floor with the paranoia and intensity that only comes from years of being in active combat zones, looking for any hint of a threat as he makes a beeline for the elevators. No one stands out - he chose this establishment for a reason - but he does not allow his posture to relax until he is alone in the small, sealed box. 

Only then does Dex take a deep steadying breath. 

He rolls his neck, trying to release some tension, but the familiar and soothing ‘crack’ never comes. It hasn’t come since they coated his spine in metal. While he is grateful - as much as he can be - that his mobility was saved, the deep aches and pains that the surgery left in his back sometimes make him wonder about how hard a normal recovery would have been. 

But he always quickly dismisses those thoughts, because if he had been left to rot in prison - immobile and trapped - he never would have found you. 

His lips tip up into a smile as lets himself slowly slip from Mission Mode into Home Mode. He looks down to the small, delicate boutique bag dangling from his fingers. He hopes the gift is enough to make up for having to leave you alone for a few hours. 

Dex felt like his soul had been ripped to shreds when he had told you of his plan. You had looked so scared and upset at the prospect of being by yourself, but he hadn’t had many options. 

He had never really cared about money before - his veteran status and the FBI had kept him financially stable, and he had no desire for material things - but now he is starting from scratch and keeping you safe and pampered is at the forefront of his mind. Luckily, Dex has a few contacts who don't care who he is as a person - only that he can make the shots no one else can - and those types of shots cost a pretty, untraceable, penny. 

The ding of the elevator shakes him from his thoughts and Dex exits with another steadying breath. His stomach starts to turn, and his heart begins to race in his chest as he makes his way towards your suite.

He doesn’t know what he is going to find on the other side and that terrifies him.

You could be curled up in bed.

You could be gone.

You could be dead. 

He fears the last one the most. He understands more than anyone the call to the Darkness being alone brings. He understands wanting it all to just Stop when life crumbles around you - and oh life has so terribly crumbled around you.

Your Dreams have been ripped from you and relentlessly mocked. 

Your relationship had ended in the worst kind of heartbreak and abandonment. 

You have given up on being Alive, but you have yet to take that final step because Dex has been the one to hold you back.

Despite his initial plans to put a bullet neatly between your eyes, you have wormed your way in between his ribs and he will burn down the city and cull everyone in it if it gets you to smile for even a moment. He will drop to his knees at your command - he will do anything and everything for you without a second thought.

Because you are his. 

You are his to protect. To hold. To care for and comfort. 

You are his to share sweet little laughs with and to watch bad movies with. 

You are his to slow dance with and dine with. 

You are his to listen to and to hear his words.

You are his.

And he is yours. 

You are so good and kind. 

You know he is a Monster. You know who he has killed and how - you know all about his past with the FBI and Fisk. You know about his anger and how he needs things Perfect and how everyone has left him.

You know Dex is fucked up beyond repair, and yet you cup his jaw and kiss his forehead and thank him for his service. 

Murdock and his little friends are only alive because it is the only thing you have asked of Dex, but if Dex opens the door and you are not there to greet him, all of that will go out the window. He’d neatly explode all of their heads - and yours if you had run away from him - before removing his own. 

But he tries to not think about that, because you have to be okay and waiting for him to return.

You have to be. 

When his feet finally, finally, reach the door, he gives it three, slow, solid knocks - letting you know it is him - before he swipes the keycard with a shaking hand. 

He can’t breathe as enters the room. 

The lights are off in the sitting area, but he doesn’t expect you to be in there. He won’t admit to himself that he hurries towards the bedroom - or that a sigh of relief escapes his lips at the sight of a you-shaped lump under the covers. You are completely hidden under them, but there is a steady rise and fall indicating you are breathing. 

The TV is on across from the bed - one of the network news channels is silently showing breaking coverage of the assassination of the Prime Minister of Madripoor. He lets himself take in the scene for a moment, before picking up the remote and turning off the device. 

He sets your gift on the nightstand closest to him before lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed. He hesitates before reaching for you - ghosting his fingers over the blanket-barrier. He doesn’t know if you are asleep or awake in your little cove and Dex would hate himself even more if he woke you from the slumber you so desperately need. 

He whispers your name and his heart jumps for joy when you stir. 

A moment later, your head emerges. Your eyes are bloodshot, and it is clear you have been crying, but in that second, you are smiling and look oh so relieved. 

“You came back.”

He mentally Rages at the man who broke you so thoroughly that you would doubt Dex would return to you, but he doesn’t let that show. He clamps it down hard and instead focuses on the beautiful curve of your lips that is all for him. 

“Of course I came back, angel. You are never going to get rid of me.” A promise he’s told you so many times, but he can’t seem to get to stick in your head. 

You sit up, the blankets piling in your lap, and reveal you are once again wearing one of the t-shirts he bought for himself. His body thrums with approval and he moves his hand to cup your cheek. 

“Is it…is it okay?” You ask hesitantly - quietly - as you lean into his touch. Your eyes dart to the blank TV screen before closing and he more than understands what you are asking of him. 

“It is. I’m sorry it took a little longer than I initially planned,” Dex says as he rubs his thumb over your soft skin. “I got you something to make up for it.”

A small amount of light returns to your eyes when you open them to give him a curious look and he internally crows over his success. 

“You got me something?”

Dex reaches back to grab the bag without his other hand leaving your face and presents it to you with what he hopes is a sheepish smile. 

You nuzzle into his palm as you accept his gift, a beautiful soft look overtaking your features. He memorizes it all as you gently push through tissue paper to find your hidden treasure. 

He doesn’t know exactly what the style of top is called - but it certainly borders on some type of lingerie. It is a little sleeping slip that is all lace and sheer fabric - your breast will be fully covered but the rest leaves little to the imagination. There is a slit up the middle, to expose slivers of skin from your sternum down, but it is tasteful. Matching boy-short style panties are included - Dex balked at the idea of offering you a thong or something crotchless. 

You had briefly eyed a similar looking sleeping set when out shopping a few days ago, but the quality hadn’t been up to standard. It had been too lewd - too cheap - to be worthy of you wearing it. 

You are Dex’s angel - his princess - and what he had picked out was what you deserve to lounge around in. 

You apparently agree. Your smile turns blinding and a moment later you are wrapped around his neck, hugging him like he is a lifeline. He hugs you back just as tightly, trying to absorb you into him even if it’s impossible.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you so much, Dex.” 

“You’re welcome, angel. You’re going to look stunning in it.” 

Your breath tickles his skin as you huff a laugh against him and he’s desperate to stay in that moment forever. 

But as much as he wants it, he can’t bend time to his will and after the shortest eternity later, you pull away from him. 

“I think I need a shower before I put it on and model it for you. Will you join me?”

“Always,” he rushes out, honored you are asking him. He would have followed you into the bathroom anyways - not wanting to be even a room away from you any longer. He’s done it previously - sat on the counter while you spent countless minutes just letting water fall onto your skin. 

You usher him out of the bed, playfully making shooing motions as your mood begins to brighten. He dares to mirror your energy, and once you are standing, he picks you up bridal style. Your arms quickly return to being around his neck and that perfect little smile grows even more.

You let your head rest on his shoulder as he carries you into the bathroom and he loathes that he has to set you down to strip and turn on the shower. He lets you handle the water temperature - you alternate between scalding and barely below skin melting and it feels like the one thing Dex cannot memorize about you. It angers him, but you’ve gently explained it’s based on how you feel in that moment, and it can’t be predicted.  He treasures that you understand his frustration and helped him to find a solution.

Even if that solution is letting you do an iota of work. 

He allows you to help him out of his suit while he removes his shirt from your body. Each touch is slow, methodical, and deliberate - neither he or you are in a hurry, and he likes the care you put in making sure his clothes remain wrinkle free. 

Only when you are both nude and steam has covered the mirrors do you enter into the shower enclosure. Multiple sprays are going, and you hiss with pleasure as the burning water hits your skin, something Dex mimics even though he has no personal preference with how hot it is. 

He has seen you nude many, many times, and has touched almost every inch of your body, but he still turns his back to you to give the illusion of privacy. 

That sort of intimacy isn’t a line you and Dex have crossed yet. Forehead and cheek kisses are plentiful, but his lips have yet to touch yours and he would never even dare to suggest anything sexual with you. He doesn’t crave that release - not like other men do. He wants to bury himself in you to be as close as possible, but he understands that isn’t your desire and he will always be respectful of it. 

You are still his and he is still yours and that is all he needs. 

Dex begins his shower routine using the products you prefer. He would rather use things without a scent - the smell of rich honey tickles his senses a bit but it is what makes you happy and when he was out, putting his nose to his wrist helped to calm his anxieties in a way that reminded him of his long burnt tapes. 

As he starts to dig his fingers into his scalp, he hears you turn to face him. He can see you in the warped reflection of the shower nozzles but pretends he doesn’t as he watches you examine his back. Self-disgust gathers in his chest - from the base of his skull to his tailbone is the thick gnarled scar left over from his operation. The healing process had been hard and the memory of it makes Dex’s teeth gnash. It brings him back to the headspace of laying helplessly on the ground while Murdock failed to kill Fisk. 

The buzzing he hates so much is starting to vibrate within him, but before he can open his mouth to tell you to not look at him, you are stepping forward and hugging him from behind. 

Dex goes completely still, hands on his head, as you nuzzle between his shoulder blades, and then the world stops as your lips find his spine. 

You start at the nape of his neck, then slowly, oh so slowly, begin to place feather light kisses down his scar. 

He can just barely feel it but he thinks this is what is going to kill him. 

Too many emotions surge up into his chest and heart and he doesn’t even know what he is experiencing. He doesn’t know if it is good or bad - but he knows he doesn’t want you to stop despite it being almost too much. He can feel tears starting to mix with the shower spray on his cheeks. 

He is frozen as you trail down his body. 

Your hands start on his chest, making their way south on his front as you lower yourself to get the small of his back, but they never go below his navel. His abs flex under your touch, but you don’t tease or taunt. You just continue with your task, kissing right to the bottom of the scar before starting your way back up. 

His knees are quaking hard when you return to your starting point. You place a firmer kiss to the original start - Dex can hear the wet sounds of your lips against his skin over the sounds of the shower - before turning your head to press your cheek to him and tighten your arms around his chest. 

You press yourself flush to him back as the sweetest words he’s ever experienced begin to pour out of you. 

“Thank you, Dex. For taking care of me. For making sure I’m safe. For being so good to me.” 

“You deserve the world,” he croaks out, surprised he can even speak. 

You squeeze him tighter, and in a soft voice, ask, “would you give it to me?”

“Yes,” he responds instantly. Without question - without thought. Anything - he’d give you anything. He’ll carve out his heart and present it on a platter for you. 

You just have to ask. 

“I can’t give it back,” you whisper against him. “I can’t give you the world.”

He finally is able to move, and he drops his hands to find yours, lacing your fingers with his and gripping you tightly - but not enough to hurt you in any way. 

“You don’t need to. You are my world.” 

It is sappy and pathetic, but it is true. 

You became his world the moment Murdock turned and walked away from you. Murdock abandoned you - he left you to die, from either Dex’s hand or your own - and Dex will never forgive him for it. 

But Murdock’s mistake was Dex’s blessing. 

Dex protects you from your Darkness and you protect him from his. You take the things Dex hates about himself and cradle them close, make him feel like he is a Person instead of a hollow shell of a weapon. 

You are much much more than his North Star. 

You're his Angel.

You bury your face against him and Dex lets you - too scared to move and break the moment. He has no idea you stand under the spray, clinging to each other while he still has shampoo in his hair. It could be minutes, hours, or days - he doesn’t know. He just tries to commit everything to memory - how warm and soft you are against him, how your breath skirts over his skin, how your fingers flex against his. 

Eventually, much too soon in Dex’s opinion, you breathe out, “I’m getting cold,” before starting to pull away. 

Shakily, Dex licks his lips before replying, “let's get back to bed.”

He refuses to allow himself to turn around - to see you as vulnerable as you saw him - instead, he quickly rinses out his hair and forgoes the rest of his routine. 

The water stops as soon as the last of the suds fall from him and a second later, a towel is being passed to his hands. 

It is surprisingly easy to compose himself as he dries off. He watches you from the corner of his eye, envious of the cloth that gets to soak up the water that clings to you. He would lick each droplet off you if you allowed it. 

Your post shower routine is longer than his, so he goes to fetch your new sleeping clothes from the bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants for himself as he does. 

You smile at him, soft and sweet and Caring, as he lays out your top and panties on the counter.

“Do you want to wait on the bed, so it will be a surprise?” you ask him, a bit of a playful twinkle in your eye. 

He doesn’t - he never wants to be more than an arm’s length from you again - but Dex humors you and goes to sit on the bed. Through the reflections in the windows, he watches you get dressed - ruining any semblance of a surprise. 

Something warm fills his chest as you turn and examine yourself in the mirror, clearly pleased with the way the fabric swirls up when you spin. You smooth your hands over your breast, belly, and sides, before you finally turn and slink your way to him. 

You look Heavenly. The piece flatters your body perfectly and the little boy shorts make the outfit look far more innocent than he suspects it is supposed to be. His body would have no trouble responding if you wanted to slip out of those pretty panties and crawl into his lap. 

Dex wolf whistles as you do another little spin, giving him a proper full view, and you giggle like a schoolgirl. 

“I love it,” you tell him, voice full of mirth. “Thank you, Dex.”

“Of course, angel. Anything for you.”

Anything. 

And one day, you will know he truly, truly means it. 

--

whoops I wrote more of this au im not sorry

[toothplant]

An A/B/O Sammick Idea I had :)

A very unapologetic, lengthier expansion of a tweet I made. 

Pre-movie omega Sammie disappearing for a few days to spend his heat with Alpha Remmick, out of sight from his parent’s careful eyes and having to face their wrath upon his return. Coming back in the early morning with a gnarled mating bite on is neck and smelling like someone else.

Having to face his Daddy’s disappointment at being mated out of wedlock, tarnishing both of their reputations in the community. His parents’ anger and frustration at his recklessness because he went somewhere he knew he had no place being during his heat. This isn’t his first time—he knew where to go and when. He snuck out the house, took advantage of their trust to fornicate with God know what alpha. Tie himself to him without their knowing of who he is, where he’s from, what he does, or how they even met in the first place. And boy, do they lose their gaskets when he won’t tell them a thing.

He won’t tell them a name, give a description of any sort—the only reason they know the alpha is even a man is because Sammie slipped up when he got caught the first time. The smell clued them in on it being an alpha. None of his friends know who this alpha is, much less that he was even seeing someone. At first, they were understanding; maybe the reluctance was because he was taken advantage of by a White man or a bastard alpha during his time of the month. That ended once his Momma and Daddy catch him again in the early morning, looking stupid as all get out as he tried to sneakily change out of his clothes, scent-laden with the deep musk of that same alpha. Things get tense in the coming months both in the home and in the community as Sammie struggles to keep playing his music and hide his alpha from everyone. 

Just Moore family drama, so lovely.  :)

If we want to add an element of mpreg, Sammie skips town without a trace once his belly starts to fill out. Once his Momma learns that he’s pregnant, everything begins to fray. She would never throw him out, and she wouldn’t tell his father either, but things get even harder between taking care of all his siblings, sneaking more food since he’s eating for two, facing constant judgement from people everywhere: fellow church-goers, strangers on the street, his own father. He won’t be able to handle it if they found out he was with child, too. Especially considering who the father is. He doesn’t know what’ll become of him, and he doesn’t want to find out.

Meanwhile Remmick is over the moon. He found his fated, powerful omega and the two spent such a sweet, sweet time under the moonlight in each other’s arms, loving each other so wholly. After mating, they would spend a couple hours singing together, sharing past songs and creating new ones. Oh, he loved it when they sang, especially when Sammie would let such powerful harmonies flow from his mouth, conjuring their people, his people he spent so long chasing. Telling each other stories of hardship, of struggle. Remmick did have to dig deep in his memories to remember how to properly provide for his still human omega, but he was eager to please and determined to woo the darling over, which he did. He had his baby’s heart, mind, and soul, and the boy had what’s left of his.

But he hated, oh how he hated, when that period ended. When put on the clothes that went into their makeshift nest, leaving Remmick with only his half a nest and half a heart. His clothes smelled like the omega’s sweetness, but that lasted as long as the next night as he needed them to hunt. He was antsy, he didn’t understand why his love stayed away. He’d follow his scent to the plantation, call to him through his mind, but he wouldn’t budge. His beau’s mating bite, unhealed on his shoulder was his only form of consolation until his omega came staggering back, desperate and yearning for him, but scared. But he came more often, usually in the dead of night, and would return just before dawn. Remmick relished this attention, but he hated the townspeople for causing his beau so much stress. It wasn’t until Sammie came to him one night crying, near inconsolable, grasping his palm to bring to his stomach and feel a slight lump in his abdomen, that he damn near jumps for joy. A family! Finally!

But his love didn’t share these thoughts. He’s on borrowed time, his mom promised to keep it a secret, but he doesn’t know how he’ll keep it for long. Something is going to have to give and Sammie isn’t prepared for what that will be. Not to mention the sire of his child being a literal blood-sucking monster, and y’know… white. It would be putting Sammie and the baby in danger if he stays here.

So Remmick, try as he might to hold his giddiness, propositions him to leave. They’ll head for Chicago, like he always dreamed of, have the baby there, then they can be a family as Sammie lives out his dreams. Remmick may be old, but he’s no bigot and certainly not one to follow social norms (unless the situation calls); he’ll take pleasure in taking care of the baby while Sammie starts his career. It’ll be hard, but they’ll be free. He reckons he can get a mode of transportation and they’ll head out tomorrow.

And that they do. 

They left the next night, not a clue left behind as budding family rode to the city under the ever-present eyes of the stars.

[laukoslovergirl]

Okay I’ve had this sitting in my head since Lauko came back to the bruins and I can’t write it myself. You and Lauko were dating but he got traded to the Wild so he broke up with you. Then you find out he’s coming back to Boston. Angst and a fluffy ending? Pleaseeeee

Come back. Be here.

Pairing: Jakub Lauko x Reader

Warnings: angst, my writing, swearing, heartbreak

NOTE: Okay I know he got the call while he was at a film festival in czech but it didn’t fit my naritavie so i changed it. but just ignore that. I had so much fun writing this thank you for the request. Làsko means love in czech.

word count: 4071

It wasn’t something you were expecting. Your boyfriend of almost a year, professional Czech hockey player Jakub Lauko, a member of the Boston Bruins, had gotten traded. He got the phone call while the two of you were making dinner. You instantly felt the shift in his energy. Anger, sadness, fear, disappointment all rolled off his body in waves as he walked back into the kitchen. Shoulders tense, eyes downcast, frown splaying over his lips. 

“Lásko” he drawled softly. You looked up your eyes meeting his somber ones. The green is dark and brooding, reminding you of the forest during a storm. Deep green clashing with his dark pupils. Emotions so clear, something is wrong. “I just got traded…” he exhaled a deep breath. He looked back down at his phone again. The words hit your ears but it was almost as if they had no meaning. “to minnesota.” 

Your grip tightens on the spatula in your hand so not to drop it. Your mouth falls open, not sure what to say. You guys had been foolish not to discuss this happening sooner. It was the Unfortunate reality of dating a hockey player. The trips, the time away, the unexpectedness,  all came with the territory. Still it felt like the rug had been ripped out from under you. You have gotten used to your routine. Days split between his and your apartments. Finding time for date nights, and lunches and workouts together. 

“Làsko please say something” he walked over to you. Steady hands wrapping you up pulling you close to his body. You were far from steady, so unsure of what was gonna happen next. You couldn’t possibly pick up and just move to minnesota. And you knew he would never ask that of you, but you wanted to. You wanted more than anything to stay with him to keep watching him play and chase his dreams. A deep ache had blossomed in your chest. What was gonna happen next? 

“It’ll be okay, we'll figure it out, yeah?” you tried so hard to keep your voice steady but no matter how hard you tried the wavering fear and sadness crept in. “I wanna go with you kuba, but you know i can’t” 

You pulled away, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip. Hands fiddling with each other, the anxiety settling in and starting to take over. He’s gonna find someone better in Minnesota. Hell it was a  worry when he was set to head back to Czechia in less than a week. He would find some Czech girl or another girl in Minnesota that would fit his lifestyle better. That made things easier and not more complicated. That was able to drop everything and move halfway across the country with him, or hell even out of the country. 

The anger was a quick flash in his eyes, but you knew he wasn’t angry with you. You knew he was angry with the timing and the long move that would be so hard to make things work. Between his and your schedule making this work was hard but oh so worth it even in the same city. You could not imagine him in another state. The sadness quickly took over in his eyes. “I know làsko, let’s not think about it right now, let's just finish dinner and enjoy each other now and figure it out later.” 

The words should have been a warning. You should have seen it coming. He wasn’t one to push a problem off, tackling it head on so it didn’t snowball. The second warning should have been the extra training sessions. Long hours at the gym and the rink even in the ring. He was gone, absent. Now looking back you saw the signs. He was coming to terms with his decision. You wouldn't ever know how bad this hurt him. He dealt with it the way he knew how. Fighting, training, skating, working, pushing, trying to forget. 

You had gotten tired of the space choosing to show up at his apartment. He hadn’t asked for help packing or even brought up the trade, not that you had spoken to him much since he’d found out. You’d been standing at the door for five minutes. The second you’d arrived the dread pooling in your stomach. Finally you knocked, to your despair no answer so you waited just a couple seconds before knocking again. This time you heard him padding around, it wasn’t late enough for him to sleep so he must be playing games. Call of duty or Fifa or whatever game of the month. 

You sighed and you heard his footsteps reach the door and he paused. “Kuba” you called out “please let me in please.” The locks clicked and the door opened to reveal him. Hair messier than usual, deep bags under his eyes so dark they could be bruises. His hand rested on the doorframe as you took in his state. Knuckles scabbed over. Muscles taught under the gray t-shirt he was wearing. You could see a bruise peeking out from the leg of his shorts right above his knee. 

You didn’t look any better than he did, that is the bruising definitely made him look worse for wear. But he usually was covered in bruising of some kind. 

You wanted to fuss and take care of him like you did during the season when particularly bad fights arose. Icing his bruises, massaging his neck and back. Caring for him like a mother hen was in your nature and it always was reciprocated ten fold when you needed help. 

You had tripped in the gym and got a pretty gnarly bruise on your shin. He fussed and cared for you like you had broken the leg and not like it was just a bruise. To which you knew he dealt with a new one at least every other day. You had whined for him to let you go back to life as normal. You were okay, it was just a little tender and besides you had dealt with worse. 

“Kuba” you whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek. Your hand settled on his cheek for just a split second. He grabbed your wrist, not hard but not quite gentle, a perfected pressure as he pulled your hand away. 

“y/n” he choked out. The pain etched onto his face. You felt it then you knew what was coming. He was leaving you, and not coming back in any way. He was putting his shield up and pushing you away. He didn’t care enough to try. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you felt him release your wrist. 

“No, don't say it. Don’t do this Jakub, we can do this, we can make this work." The begging started before you had time to process. You didn’t wanna beg you knew he had made up his choice and the last thing you wanted was to actually let him go “please kuba please” 

Tears fell steadily down your face. Thankful you hadn’t put on makeup to come over here. You shook your head still silently pleading. “I can’t y/n. I can’t put you through this. I’m already gone so much, we were already struggling to find time. Please, I'm doing this for you. I love you. I’m sorry but I've made up my mind. This will wreck you and be torturous, and I can't sit by and watch you go through that. It’s the same reason I never asked you to quit and do this full time all the time. You deserve the life you want Y/N and I can't give that to you.” 

His words sucked. Not just because they hurt but because he was right. Granted you were more worried about watching how he’d take the long distance than how you’d handle it but you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to go on. 

“Maybe in another lifetime under different circumstances. Maybe at the right time,” he sighed and closed his eyes leaning into the door. “Please, for me” he knew you were gonna keep fighting and he looked so exhausted so broke down. You conceded 

You blew out a breath, the anger bubbling to the surface, how dare he decide what you can and can’t handle. A decision so altering to both of your existences. He just chose to quit, to give up. If it was that easy for him then fine you’d handle it and move on. 

“If that’s what you want” the sadness creeping back into your tone. You turned sharply on your heel and left. You had nothing dignified left to say. It was either gonna come out as a petulant child or some of the angriest words you’ve ever said. The tears came back quickly. Falling hot and fast brimming with your sadness and anger as you left the building. 

With the tears and sadness blocking your vision you didn’t see the tears building in his eyes. This was the last thing he wanted but more than anything he wanted you to succeed and see you happy. He knew he had to let you go. He watched you walk away, a few stray tears falling. He whispered one last i love you as he watched you round the corner. 

The next few months passed in a blur. You threw yourself into work. So determined to erase the beautiful determined goofy man you had fallen in love with. He haunted you around every corner, following the edges of all the shadows. He was a constant thought in your head, some reminder somewhere. It was getting unbearable and you knew the worst was yet to come. 

 Hockey season was right around the corner and as a born and raised Massachusetts girl you knew getting through this season was gonna be brutal. Not getting to watch your favorite man play for your favorite team. Not to mention you had actually made friends with some of the guys and cutting them off had hurt just as bad as losing Jakub. Some of them had reached  out still trying to be friends and support you through this. You hadn’t accepted no need to hurt yourself or anyone else in this. 

You were not shying away however. You had wallowed enough. If you wanted to get over this man you knew you had to do the last thing you wanted to do and go head first into all the reminders and memories.  

Which would be how you found yourself on the front side walk to TD garden. Auto pilot had kicked in  and carried you through the motions to get you. Scary in itself but scarier still was the arena right in front of you. Memories before, during and after games. 

You wished you were here supporting him, wearing his jersey cheering his name. Screaming the loudest when he scored a goal, cheering him on when he dropped the gloves. You wanted nothing more than for things to be different. Hell it didn't even have to be here you just wanted to be supporting him. He had claimed so much of you in such a small time. You wanted it all back. 

But at the same time you didn’t. You understood now why he did it. While you were still angry you had very little input into the decision, you still loved him more than you had ever realized. He was so silly and loving and tender and he packaged it up in this rough hockey player exterior. He was one of the best things to ever happen to you. You weren’t quite sure yet how or when but you were certain you were meant to be together and things would work out okay. 

The game was less horrible than you had expected. You got through it, you cheered on your friends and finally texted some of them back. You hadn’t expected any of them to respond but you still told them good luck, told them you were at the game and saw how wonderful they played. 

You were pleasantly surprised that almost all of them had responded and even some of the WAGs whom you haven't texted sent you messages. Inviting you out with them before the next home game. Parker, your favorite of the crew, had invited you out with them tonight. You had politely declined the invite out tonight. Exhausted from the day in general but also the emotional turmoil. You had accepted the invite out before the next game. 

You were proud of yourself and the little self exposure experiment as you made your way out of the building. You smiled softly as you were greeted by the glow of the city as you walked to your car. Frowning softly as the memories creep in. Walking down the Boston streets exploring the city you had loved for so long and showing Jakub all your favorite places. He in turn showed you some of the things he had discovered in the city. Things and places that had not been on your radar but you loved them all the same. The care and attention from him understanding what would make you happy and what you would like. 

You tapped back into the present as you passed the bakery you guys frequented. It specialized in European desserts run by a Swiss man and his Swedish wife. It had everything from simple American chocolate chip cookies to Swiss chocolate tarts to french macarons to czech kolache. The kolaches were so much better than the ones typically produced and found in America. A little bit of everything really and everything better than the next. 

You made a mental note to come back later this week. As you hadn’t been in the shop since well before you, Lauko had broken up. The couple had always been so kind and friendly. You knew a smile and a pastry from them would help heal your broken heart a little more. 

Moving on got easier everyday. You were no longer staying inside by yourself as much. Happy and content with friends once again. It was getting easier to breathe. You weren’t anxiously peeking around corners expecting to find something that brought on an unwelcome onslaught of memories. You went to hockey games not nearly as much as before. You visited the little bakery. You went on walks through the places and parts you had frequented together. 

You still dreamed of him. Of him staying here. Of life where you could be okay giving up what you had worked for to be a simple hockey wag. No shade to them, you loved most of the wags you knew but you knew the life wasn’t easy. Putting everything on the line for a man who would be gone well over half the time. Following him wherever the game may take him. You dreamed of a life where you were able to pick up and move to Minnesota with him. Where you guys were finding your footing together in that state. 

For better or for worse you were still keeping up with him, mainly just how he was playing as that was all you had access to without bugging your friends about him. You knew Minnesota’s season was getting off to a fantastic start. Win after win fighting for what they  wanted. You also knew that he wasn’t exactly peachy keen. You could see the way he was struggling on the ice. Dropped passes, more fights, brutal turnovers. Then came the injuries. He was one of the first before the injury bug took hold over there. One after the other someone went down and came back for just a couple of games just to go right back to the IR. 

You missed spending healing time with him. You dotting and coddling, him fussing and pretending to be perfectly fine. Cuddle sessions full of board games, video games and movies. One weekend with just some mildly bruising that you had convinced him to relax for you had also convinced him to read the lord of the rings to you in Czech. 

You barely understood the language at all. But the tone and cadence of his voice was so soothing you could listen to him speak all the time. You knew a few key words and phrases. Not even enough to carry a conversation, but just enough to not be completely clueless. You remember being surly into his side. Watching him more than looking at the words on the page as he read them to you. 

“Làsko” he purred, “being stared out makes it hard to read.” he finished the sentence with a chuckle. Putting the book down and pulling you more into his lap. You squirmed trying to get out of his lap for fear of hurting him. His hold tightened around you as he tucked his face into your neck. “Stay. I like having you close and besides I’m not nearly as hurt as you think I am.” His lips grazed your skin. You let out a sigh of contentment and concession. Running his finger through his hair. Your favorite mess of tangled curls. It was on the longer side right now as you had begged him not to go get a haircut yet. He hummed against your skin as your nails softly scratched his scalp. 

This weekend the Bruins are playing against the Minnesota Wild at home. Which meant Jakub would be back in town. You had planned not to go to this game. You went about your usual morning routine. Stopping at your favorite coffee shop. You should have expected to see him here. He had shown it to you. 

There he was a plaid suit covering his body that you knew like the back of your hand. His green eyes widened in surprise. You felt both like you were suffocating and taking your first full breath of air in months. You smiled and made your way over to the line. 

He was waiting at the pick up counter. You felt his eyes on you the whole time. Watching your every move. It felt like the gentlest caress down your skin. One of your favorite feelings and you savored every second before you moved your attention from the menu board to him. He gave you a soft smile before the barista came over and called out his name.  

He leaned over the counter and said something to her you couldn’t hear. The coffee shop noise drowned out the timbre of his words. He was positioned with his back towards you so you couldn’t read his lips either. You sighed as you watched him pull out a bill and hand it to the girl. Before he nodded a thank you and grabbed his coffee. 

There was another man with him whom you were just taking notice of. Just slightly shorter than Jakub. Similar European features, if you had to guess your money was on russian. The nose and eyebrow structure is a dead giveaway of slavic descent of some kind. You smiled at both of them. 

You waited in line politely. Sending prayers to the hockey gods that they had a good game. You smiled as you reached the register. You ordered your coffee and went to grab your wallet when she handed you a gift card. 

“The man in the suit said to give you this” you smiled at her. Blushing softly you grabbed the card and pulled a ten out of your wallet and shoved it quickly in the tip jar. “thank you” said softly as she handed you the receipt. 

You went over to the pick up counter politely waiting once again. You wished you had the chance to talk to him. But running into him was enough for the day. You grabbed your cup when she called your name. 

“Have a good day at work. -JL” was written on the side of your cup. You smiled at his message. Simple yet still made butterflies erupt in you. Coffee paid for, for a while and a good day message. It let you know he wasn’t over this either. He was doing what he thought was best. Not what he wanted. 

The next month passed in a blur. You only attended one game in that time but did meet some of them for after game gatherings, and lunches here and there. Trade deadline was approaching quickly. You could tell all the boys were on edge. Hell the whole city seemed like it was on edge. Holding its breath for what was to come. The team was having their worst season in years. 

On Thursday evening in march you got a soft knock on your door. A pattern that made your heart stop. A pattern on Lauko used. You would not let yourself get hopeful. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Stupidly distracted by your thoughts you hadn’t checked the peephole. 

So when you opened the door to the tall handsome man, you had been so desperately trying to get over. You stood there shocked, unsure if this was real. A big goofy grin spread over his face. 

“y/n” he said softly, “i am so beyond sorry for leaving. I don’t ever wanna do this without you. The last nine months have been absolute torture. If you take me back I promise I won’t leave completely” you know what his words meant and you let go of the door and sprung up into his arms. 

He caught you with ease as you folded yourself into him. “Kuba, I’ll go next time. If there is a next time. I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.” you weren’t giving up on your profession you looked into all the stuff you would need to do to move at the drop of a hat again and had slowly started doing them. You wanted them both and you knew he would do whatever to make it happen

He walked steadily into your apartment. Kicking the door shut behind him and plopping down on the couch. Arms tightly wrapped around you. “I play like shit without you. Ya’know?” he chuckled softly 

“Oh I know I was keeping up. You caught a few injuries. Seems like the whole team did.” you moved back from his shoulder looking at his face. His arms released you as his big hands gently cupped your face. 

“I’m serious. Y/n I wanna make this work no matter what it takes. I want to come home to you whether that’s here in Boston or wherever I may end up. I want you to be a part of my life no matter what. I understand that you have hopes and dreams and goals and I never want you to give those up. But I want to be a part of them. I wanna watch you do all you want and more and be right there by your side supporting you through it all holding your hand.” he stroked your cheeks gently as the words poured out of him.  

Love shone brightly in his eyes as he stared straight into your own. A smile graced him as he professed his love for you. Your heart melded back together fused by his words and gently caressed. The care and love that seeped into your body. “I know I hurt you by letting go so easily and I will try every day until the day I die to fix it. I want this làsko. I want you more than I want anything in the world” 

A few stray tears dropped down your face and you tucked yourself into him again. “Don’t leave like that again, Kuba and you will fix it all you already have my heart it has always been yours”

[dandelioncasey]

(I need everyone to know that this entire ramble was inspired by the last few paragraphs because I am a petty bitch who loves a callback - it's never gonna happen but honestly this concept is living in my brain rent free and I might just write another six versions of this lmao)

Okay so picture this:

Eddie comes back to LA and so Buck moves out to give Christopher his home back (Eddie doesn't notice that Buck never says where he's going, he just gives him a week to clear out so that Christopher will have somewhere to sleep, but it's fine, he's just got a lot on his mind, right? He definitely cares, right?)

And so Buck, with his bad credit and nobody willing to rent to him, ends up sleeping in the Jeep (not acknowledging the truck, he still has the Jeep to me), or in a shitty pay-per-night motel type situation (but he tries to avoid that and he definitely never leaves his stuff there, not that he has much anymore - he left most of what he bought for the house for Chris and Eddie, and it's fine, really, where would he put it anyway?)

He starts withdrawing from the team, both because he's embarrassed about his situation and because some tiny part of him is angry that none of them ever asked - they know Eddie's back in the house on South Bedford Street, so they must've figured it out all on their own, look at Buck being an adult, he'll be fine, right??? We're all just glad you're back!

Time passes and that anger is getting louder and harder to ignore. Buck mostly just hangs out with Ravi on shift and then goes 'home' (to his Jeep) alone. He showers at the station or in crappy motels, he cooks too-big meals with Bobby's recipes (which nobody will eat) so he can maybe sneak some of the leftovers (he has money but nowhere to cook, but Bobby's lasagne is just as good cold, right?), he signs up for every extra shift he can, not for the money but because he doesn't want to be alone

Nobody has noticed his housing issues except for Eddie complaining once that he keeps accidentally getting some of Buck's post (it's not an accident, you took his home and left him with nowhere to go and no postal address, you didn't even say thank you to the man who wrecked his credit for you before you handed down a verbal notice period)

One night, as Buck is sleeping in the back of the Jeep, he gets carjacked, someone drives off in his car with him still groggy in the back, he wakes up fully to the sound of police sirens and he manages to sit up, but this startles the driver and the Jeep ends up balanced on the edge of a cliff

Now in precarious situations like this, air rescue is the only safe option, and who should show up but Tommy and the 217? (because as we all know, there's all of three cops, two firehouses, and one helicopter pilot in all of Los Angeles), and the medics get the driver out and then they notice Buck in the back (nobody knew he was there, he couldn't get to his phone)

They try to set up a way to get him out without tipping the car forward and over the edge, but Buck just tells them to go, it's fine, nobody will notice anyway. And then the radio that one of the rescuers is carrying crackles, and he hears Tommy's voice telling him that 'i'd notice, Evan, I always notice you'

They get Buck out, and the Jeep falls, and Buck is just empty (that's all he had left, everything was in his Jeep and now that's gone too), and Tommy is the first person in months to ask Buck if he's okay rather than just assuming he is because clearly trying to help others means you're over losing the only good father you've ever known, right?

More time passes, nobody except Ravi has noticed that Buck's Jeep is a different colour (and model), or that he filed a change of address, or that he's smiling more and cooking less, they're all supporting each other and everyone thinks Buck is talking to somebody else so it never comes up

Eventually we come to a mirror of Buck finding out about the party and the job offer from El Paso from Ravi, instead of from anyone who should have told him - Ravi asks Hen and Chim when they're arriving at the party that's happening during their four days off

Party? What party, did we forget someone's birthday again? Well, it's a housewarming party for Buck, because he's been crashing with Tommy and Tommy finally agreed to let him pay into the mortgage, so it's officially their house now

Obviously everyone is shocked by this - did you know they were dating again? Why didn't he ask for help moving? Buck shows up and Hen, Chim, and Eddie start throwing these questions at him, and he just blinks at them and says that he didn't want to make it all about him, because they're all busy and grieving and suchlike

What do you mean, make it all about you, of course you moving is all about you! Awkward glance at Eddie, and Buck explains that he didn't really have much that needed moving anyway, certainly nothing that he needed help with

Ravi mentions that Buck moved out of Eddie's house (it wasn't Eddie's it was his but none of you noticed why didn't any of you NOTICE??) months ago and just moved in with Tommy last month after 'the whole Jeep thing' (what happened to the Jeep, it's right there? No, that's a different Jeep, it's not even the same colour!),

And someone (probably Hen lbr) finally notices that hey, that math ain't mathing, and it all comes out that not only did Eddie kick out his so-called best friend without so much as a thank you but also nowhere would rent to Buck with his credit in such a state so he was homeless for months and nearly died and NONE OF YOU NOTICED

I just love the parallel of Buck finding out about Eddie's job offer through hearing about the barbecue to celebrate it and the rest of the 118 finding out about what Eddie did and what Buck has been through by hearing about a housewarming party, and both times it's because the rest of the team are supporting and talking to each other and not Buck (who has been told over and over that his help isn't wanted)

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

The thing with Santos' arc is that traits can be both flaws or virtues depending on where they are directed and how they are used. When we meet Santos she's arrogant, combative, and fairly self-centred. She's more complex than just that from the get go, she's extroverted in a way that suggests a genuine desire for connection, for example, but these are very obvious traits of hers, most clearly seen in her view of operations as cool, and her desire to do them, it seems, just because she wants to and so she can say she does. When she fails, dropping the scalpal, she views it as a personal failure in a competition against the others, framing it as Whitaker winning over her.

Throughout the course of the show, however, what we see is how, when forged in a better direction, when pointed outwards instead of in, these traits of hers become something good. When she threatens the father who's possibly/probably abusing his daughter, her combativeness crystallizes into justice. When she takes the fall for Mohan, while her motivations are very much wrapped up in past interactions with Langdon etc, her lippiness becomes a shield. And most notably, in the shooting episodes, her arrogance becomes a courage needed to save a woman's life.

Notably, Santos doesn't want to perform the REBOA by herself. She goes to the attendings, she goes to Robby and Abbott and other residents, and none of them has the time for her. Unlike previous desires to do operations because she wants to, this is one she doesn't want to do, but her hand is forced into it and she has the courage to follow through. (The courage isn't even in performing the operation, in some ways, it's in taking accountability. If she hadn't acted, they could have argued they did everything within their capabilities as medical students and interns. As it is, her action means if she had failed it would have been her fault. It's an assuming of responsibility). It's important that in this operation Whitaker works with her, instead of seeing him as competition, the work becomes cooperative. And this time it works! The narrative rewards Santos for turning her confidance and ambition outwards, using it when pushed for the sake of a dying woman, rather than for the sake of her own glory. Her disregard for rank and file, also, is similarly transformed from self-centred insubordination to something self-sacrificial, she knows she may well get in trouble for it but she isn't doing it for herself.

There is also something there about how Robby tells Santos she needs to be more of a team player, and she ends up asking Whitaker if he wants to move in with her, indicating a move away from isolationist tendencies. However, I don't think this is as much a learning aspect of her arc since it seems she always wanted that kind of group dynamic but just wasn't good at presenting it. Fundamentally, at least in large part, Santos' season 1 narrative is about how raw material can go either way. It's like how a lot of kids with anger issues can be really helped with martial arts classes because the discipline allows them to channel that energy into something productive. When turned inwards, her natural drive, intelligence, and confidence becomes self-centred ambition and arrogance. When turned outwards, when the focus becomes on the patients and not herself, they become almost self-sacrificial bravery.

[cap-trio]

promised to another | part four

chapter summary: An awkward moment with Bucky and a lackluster reunion with Steve leave you in a sticky situation.

word count: 1.8k

note: here comes the angst y'all...

series masterlist / read on ao3

Everything is a warm, fuzzy daze when you wake up. Two arms are wrapped around your stomach, holding you against a hard chest. Without thinking, you snuggle into the person, assuming it’s Steve.

“Good morning,” a sleepy voice murmurs from behind you. A voice that does not belong to Steve.

Your eyes shoot open as you pry yourself away from Bucky. The movement jolts him awake and he retreats to the far side of the bed, centimeters away from falling off.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammers.

“Don’t be. It was an accident.”

“Fuck, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” He’s spiraling fast.

“Buck, I’m fine. I was…the opposite of uncomfortable. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

He nods. It’s more than you should’ve shared, but you need him to know he didn’t cross any lines. You’ve cuddled with friends before, and this was no different. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway. 

“I’ll go make us some coffee.”

Bucky needs any reason to leave the room and give himself a second to breathe. It doesn’t matter how many times he reassures himself it’s not a big deal. Because it is, to him at least. He hasn’t held someone like that in years, and he never enjoyed it as much as he did with you. Memories from college fill his mind - getting drunk and passing out on the couch, waking up tangled in each other. Lazy Sunday mornings spent cuddled together. When he realized he loved you the first night he held you like that. Hearing you admit you liked it, or at least he’s assuming that’s what the opposite of uncomfortable means, has him wondering if you’re reliving these memories, too.

You come join him at his kitchen counter. He’s relieved you’ve changed back into your own clothes; he can’t handle seeing you in his right now. Not when he’s teetering on the edge of falling for you. And he’s dangerously close to that edge. 

Last night comes back to you in bits and pieces. Wiping the foam away from Bucky’s mouth. Changing into his clothes, overwhelmed by the scent of him. Him taking care of you, not wanting you to go home alone.  

Confessing that you’re unhappy with Steve. 

It makes your stomach turn, the alcohol threatening to come back up. You had thought in your drunken state that it would make you feel better to get it off your chest, but now you feel worse. Guilty. Embarrassed. How could you dump that on him? How could you talk to him about it before you talked to Steve, your husband?

“You’re unusually quiet,” Bucky comments, sliding you a much needed cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry. I’m just thinking about last night, and I feel awful. I never should’ve unloaded all of my problems on you like that.”

“Please don’t apologize. You were drunk, and I like knowing you feel safe enough around me to talk about things like that.” He pauses, wondering if he should continue. He was up most of the night thinking about what you said, how hurt you sounded, how he could punch Steve right in the face for making you feel this way. Steve doesn’t know how good he has it. 

You deserve so much better, and Bucky wanted to tell you that last night before you ended the conversation. He wants to say you should leave Steve. Not even for Bucky, not for anyone but yourself. It’s clear this has been dragging you down. But is it his place to say that? As a friend, yes. But as an ex-turned-recent-friend? That complicates things. But if you can take a risk, so can he.

“I actually wanted to say something last night. To me, it sounds like you should leave him. He’s hurting you, and you don’t deserve to be treated like this. Forgive me if I’m crossing a line, but this is clearly weighing on you and I think it might be for the best. You said it yourself, you’re not happy.”

“Excuse me?” You spit out, anger coursing through you like a raw, ugly thing. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember asking you what I think I should do with my relationship. You think I should leave him, and what? Be with you? Because that’s not what’s happening here. I shut down the conversation for a reason last night. If I wanted to know your opinion, I would’ve asked.”

Bucky flinches like he's been hit. He has, in a way - your words feel like bullets. That’s not what’s happening here. He knows that. He’s about to say as much before you continue on.

“Steve is a great guy. He’s sweet, and caring, and he takes care of me. He loves me.” You emphasize the word like you’re trying to convince yourself you still believe that. “I’m not going to give up on him because of a silly little break, okay? This will all be over soon, he just needed some space. It’s perfectly normal.”

You hear how defensive you sound. Like you have something to prove. Something you find yourself believing less and less in. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky sighs. “Of course I know that’s not what’s happening with us. I didn’t mean to overstep. And you’re right, you didn’t ask for my input so I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have.” You stand and start collecting your things left scattered across his living room. “I should go.”

“Wait, please stay. I don’t want to leave things like this,” he pleads. “Let’s just talk it out, okay?”

“I need to be alone while I figure some things out. I’ll see you around, Buck.”

His heart shatters like glass falling onto a hardwood floor. “Okay. Yeah, whatever you need. I’ll uh, see you around.”

See you around. It’s enough to leave him hopeful as he watches you walk out the door. You don’t let yourself think about how he put up more of a fight to work things out than Steve did. How he gave you the choice to walk away, unlike how Steve chose to leave without giving you a chance to talk about it first. 

But they say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? And clearly what Bucky said struck a nerve, so maybe you should let yourself think about what all of that means. Your head is a jumbled mess, and it’s not just because you’re hungover. You’ve let these emotions fill up for too long, and now they’re ready to spill out. For the first time since Steve left, you’re grateful to be going home to an empty apartment so you have the space to think.

You unlock the door to your apartment, wanting nothing more than to take a nice long, hot shower, but you jump when a figure appears from the kitchen. You scream and reach for anything that resembles a weapon before you recognize who it is.

Steve.

“Surprise!” He says, smiling wide like he didn’t just nearly give you a heart attack. 

“W-what are you doing here?”

His smile falls. “I’m home,” he pauses when you don’t react, then clairifies, “for good.”

“A little heads up would’ve been nice,” you joke, but it doesn’t land. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise…are you not happy?”

“Of course I am! I just had a rough morning and you scared me, that’s all.” You plaster on your most convincing fake smile. Steve notices but chooses not to comment on it. The last thing he wants is to start a fight when he just got back.

“I’m glad to be home,” he says before pulling you in for a kiss. There should be sparks, fireworks, butterflies, something. But you feel nothing. All of the passion from before followed Steve out the door. 

“I’m glad you’re home, too.”

No one says I missed you. No one says I love you. No one mentions the lack of enthusiastic reunion. It’s definitely not the rom-com moment you’ve been building up in your head. 

Saying anything will only cause a fight; pointing fingers and blaming each other would just send Steve away again. You’ve been pretending that everything is okay since he left, so how hard can it be to do it now that he's back? You just need time to readjust, at least that's what you tell yourself. 

But then Bucky’s words replay in your head: This is clearly weighing on you. You said it yourself, you’re not happy. You don’t deserve to be treated like this. You excuse yourself to the shower, denying Steve’s request to join you. Panic rises through you, manifesting in shaking hands and labored breath. You turn the water on, sit on the shower floor, and let out a sob. 

You’ve been trying to downplay the situation, lying to yourself that Steve will come to his senses and ignore that sinking feeling in your chest that you know things will never be the same.

All of the lying to yourself and pretending that everything would be okay once Steve comes home, that things would go back to the way they were, has finally caught up to you. Not to mention the guilt from the growing, unstoppable feelings towards Bucky and not being over the moon at seeing Steve again. Now that you’re finally letting yourself truly think things through, you know you’re like a mouse caught in a trap, not sure how or if you’ll get out. 

It’s Steve, your husband, how could you be with anyone else? But if you still truly love Steve, how can you justify how you feel about Bucky? It’s like you’re being sucked into his magnetic force field yet again. Bucky still has that same hold on you and it scares the shit out of you. Now that he’s back in your life, you can’t let him go again, but you can’t - you don’t want to- just be friends. Things with Bucky have never just been friendly, like it’s been written in the stars that you two were meant to be. That now is your second chance with him. 

Another voice screams that maybe it isn’t meant to be though. Because it’s the same situation; right person, wrong time. Could you really divorce Steve to be with someone you’ve only recently connected with, despite the years of history? The choice is overwhelming, drowning you in what-if’s and buts and maybes. And then it dawns on you that if Bucky never would’ve gotten injured and dropped out of school to move back home, you would’ve married him.

But he did, and you met Steve and got swept up into a different kind of whirlwind romance. Maybe that’s still there, buried under a pile of rubble that you have to work to find. And if you can’t, even if the thought makes you sick to your stomach, you know what you’ll have to do.

tag list: @valyriantarg - @vicmc624 - @kittieboo

[livingdeadmlm]

you know those young ladies who bath Arthur in the game, when you go to a hotel/saloon and pay to use their bath tub? male reader assuming that position for X reasons, Morgan being freaked out in a positive way that another guy (younger than him, but obviously +22) is going to touch his naked body, then reader ends up consensually giving Arthur the best hand job he has had in his whole life…

had a dream exactly like this and I don’t think I’ll forget it anytime soon. had to share it with someone mb

So real for having a dream like this anon I had a dream of Javier a bit ago and I’m thinking about writing it but it was a while ago 💔 I was a tailor working on some clothes he came in laid it on heavy and things got crazy on a vanity idk! But here we go lol!!

You worked only the night shifts, spending your hours in a dimly lit side room with the other bathswomen. It was a space filled with smoke and laughter as you all exchanged stories and idle chatter to pass the time.

Most nights were average, with only two men coming through, making the hours feel long and unproductive. Fridays, however, brought a welcome surge of activity; on the best nights, you had as many as ten men coming in.

But tonight was Wednesday, and the air felt heavy as everyone waited. The clock ticked steadily when, finally, the hotelier knocked on the door

“There’s a gentleman in room two. Get to him soon!” The women groaned; room two was code for wanting a Bathman instead of a woman.

You rolled up your sleeves and undid the first few buttons of the shirt. There were a few “ooos” and giggles as you stepped out into the hallway. The shirt was pretty fancy, made of a silky material that hung just loose enough around your frame to fall forward when you leaned down.

You looked at yourself in the foggy metal plate of the door. You knocked twice. “Do you need any help in there?” There was a moment of silence before the man said, “Sure, why not?”

The room was warm and steamy. You stepped over the abandoned clothes on the ground. The man's head was resting against the tub, his eyes shut.

‘He’s very handsome,’ you thought as you perched on the tub and began to wash his hair. The suds from the soap slid down the sides of his head.

“What’s a big man like you doing out here so late?” The lather of the soup was thick, the man seemed to enjoy the work of your hands, and his head leaned back completely. “Just ran into some bad luck recently. Needed to take a night for myself.”

You rinsed the soap off and adjusted your seating to be more comfortable. “It’s real good to treat yourself.”

Your hand slowly traveled down to his broad shoulders, massaging the muscles as the man sighed and opened his eyes. There was a shocked look on his face when he finally looked at you and spoke, “Yer a man?”

You could feel your heart sink. Had somehow a man managed to accidentally say the code word and wind up with a man? “I am… I’m sorry. I’ll leave and get you one of the girls instead.” Your voice was shaky; you were fearful of the potential anger this man could be feeling by being touched by a man.

You tried to stand quickly, to get out of the steamy room as soon as you could. But his hand caught your wrist. “Hey, now I didn’t say I was upset, just,” he waved his hands, “surprised.” You nodded slowly and sat back down.

Beginning to wash his arm, he sank more into the water.

“I didn’t know men had these jobs.” He was back to his usual talking tone, and you relaxed and chuckled, rinsing off the soap bubbles.

“Men have always been working these places, mister.” You reached across his chest, trying to ignore just how much you wanted to stare at the way his skin was glowing. “Just the first time you’ve seen us.”

The man hummed and sighed, “I think I’m liking the fellers more, you’re using the right amount of pressure.” Massaging the knots in his back would take you a lifetime, but you hesitated on his legs, favoring to clean his neck and chest before going lower.

“Course I use pressure, not like you’re exactly, fragile, mister.” This was a big mistake, running your hands across his chest, his pecs were well-formed but soft under your fingers. How distracting.

“Arthur. Arthur Morgan.”

You lightly squeezed his chest, “It’s not like you’re exactly made of porcelain, Mister Morgan.” He laughed, an excellent sound as he kept eye contact with you.

“You touch all the men like this?” The water splashed slightly around him, “just the handsome ones.” You grinned and poured warm water across his chest.

“If I ask for more, is that extra?” Your heart stuttered. You really weren’t supposed to, but the hotelier said what happens behind the doors doesn’t concern him unless you’re hurt. And the only thing that hurt now was passing up the offer of getting to see a handsome man come undone.

“For you, Arthur, it’ll be on the house.” You whispered as your hand dipped into the water, slowly trailing his stomach as his breathing picked up.

You felt the weight of his hard dick, taking it into your hand and feeling his stomach tightened at the contact.

“Yer—hands, they’re real—real-soft,” Arthur groaned, a faint shiver of pleasure escaping him as his lips trembled when you settled into a steady rhythm.

The gentle lap of the water around your arm created a soothing white noise, softly enveloping the room and partially muffling Arthur’s sounds.

“Thank you, mister,” you replied, your voice steady and warm. As you focused on the task at hand, you couldn't help but notice the way the light danced across his face. The way his chest glistened thanks to the water.

You chewed on your bottom lip as Arthur's head lolled back. His eyes screwed shut as your thumb gently circled his tip. “You’re real handsome, Arthur.” Your voice blends seamlessly with the tranquil ambiance. It made Arthur's mind melt, getting so much attention from a younger man, no less, was more pleasurable than he’d ever fully admit.

But it was evident to you as his hips lifted in tandem with your strokes.

Arthur let out a soft, broken chuckle, his voice thick with both surprise and delight. “You’re gonna kill me talkin’ like that,” he murmured, words nearly lost in the wet hush of the bathwater and the low creak of the tub. On one hand, calloused from years of rough work like most men who'd wandered in here, reached out, unsure for a moment before resting lightly on your arm, his touch reverent, grateful.

“I ain’t tryin’ to kill you,” you said with a small smile, thumb brushing gently the prominent vein on his dick making his whole body jolt. “Just makin’ sure you feel good. You deserve that.”

His breath hitched again your words went straight to his cock you effortlessly took care of, but it wasn’t just the physical contact that unraveled him—it was the kindness. A quiet sort of intimacy he hadn’t realized he’d missed until now.

“Don’t reckon anyone’s said that to me in a long time,” he admitted, moans interrupting his sentence, eyes flickering open, soft and unsure as they found yours.

You leaned in a little, your face close, your voice even softer. “Well, they should’ve. I see you, Arthur. And I like what I see.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Just looked at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. Then, with a drawn out quiet grunt, he came with a weak thrust into your grip. He pulled you just a bit, forehead resting against yours. The warmth of the bath water surrounded him like a thick blanket, but the heat between you that left him breathless.

“You’re somethin’ else,” he whispered. “Reckon I’m lucky tonight.”

Your hand lightly trailed back up his chest, groping his supple skin along the way. You could feel his heartbeat through his hot skin; the rhythm was steady and hard.

“Mmm, long as I’m here, you're lucky as often as you'd like, cowboy.” You kissed his cheek, and the stubble on his face poked your lips.

His hand didn't quite let go as you walked away with a sway to your hip. He'd almost follow you out of the bath if he didn't need to dry off and redress.

Stepping into the hallway, you gasped for air. You needed some fresh air urgently.

Speeding outside the hotel, your manager asked where you were going.

“Handsome men are so suffocating!” All he did was wave you off with a sigh as you stepped out.

You were almost painfully hard as you took a drag of your cigarette. Arthur Morgan. You'd have to remember that name.

He was the first man in a long time to make you feel like this.

To make you feel so eager to please, almost making you forget this job is all for money.

Shit

The money.

[dandylion240]

“This can’t be real,” Evan muttered to himself, flinching from the apparition before him. It couldn’t be real. Ghosts aren’t real. Yeah like dragons aren’t real. His inner voice laughed at him. Shivering as the apparition knelt beside him. Yelping when it’s hand touched his shoulder and the minty scent washed over him as thick as the fog around him.

“Oh I’m real alright,” he chuckled, pulling Evan to his feet.

“Jayden,” Evan screamed, struggling to free himself “what did you do to him?” His demand fell flat as he looked into the dark pools of the soulless eyes. More like pits of darkness and despair draining the last dregs of hope from him.

“Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of him,” his lips grimaced in what might have been a grin. “I did what I should have done at the start.”

The scream. Swallowing the fear that rose like bile deep inside him. Jayden was hurt somewhere in all this fog. Craning his neck Evan scanned the fog swirling around him. Where could he be? Was he….

“He won’t be coming to the rescue this time,” Jasper gloated, pulling him close “you’re mine. All mine.”

Whimpering as Jasper’s mouth closed around his, gagging as his tongue invaded his mo9uth, leaving behind an after taste of mold, rot and decay. Evan's hands hung at his sides, paralyzed by what could only be his worst nightmare. 

His thoughts whirled inside his head as murky as the fog around him. What could he do to protect himself? Nothing he knew of could hurt a ghost. He could hit him over the head or something but would that do anything other than anger him? He had to get free. Once he was free he could find Jayden and then…what? What if Jayden was hurt? What if he was dead?

What about Josie? What if Jasper had taken her? What had he done to her? His body went limp, enduring the bruising kiss best he could. His only hope was to play along and maybe Jasper would take him to where Josie was. Once he knew she was safe he could work on getting them both to safety. Guilt stabbed his heart knowing he’d have to leave Jayden behind, it was small comfort knowing that’s what he had to do, what Jayden would want him to do.

Pulling back Jasper peered into his eyes as if trying to read his mind “you made the right decision.” His hands grasped Evan’s wrists, squeezing tight. “I know what you were thinking. Thinking you would hit me, hurt me. But you can’t.” He let one of Evan’s hands drop to stroke his cheek instead “it’s only a matter of time and you'll join me. We’ll have forever. Just you and me.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep voice said from the thickness of the fog.

“I can’t just lie here,” Jayden moved his arms to push his body from the ground. “Argh,” his breath exploded from him as his body erupted in a torrent of fire and pain.

“No one ever listens,” the petulant voice said, ending in an aggrieved sigh.

“Maybe you could help instead of complain,” Jayden mumbled coughing weakly.

“Why should I? No one helped me.” he whined “I’ve been down here a lot longer than you.”

A horse whinnied nearby, frowning Jayden said “you’re the rider who caused us to crash.”

“I always ride on this night,” he stated “I never make it past the hollow. Every year it ends the same.”

“Why do it?” the question burst from him before he could stop it. What did it matter? The damage was done. All that mattered now was getting to Evan before whoever pushed him into the hollow got to Evan.

“Ha,” the man cried in triumph.

“What?” Jayden grumbled, his already frayed patience slipping.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said wagging a finger in front of Jayden’s face “you’re thinking this is all a figment of your imagination.”

Jayden couldn’t dispute that. All of this from the moment he swerved to miss the horse had been surreal. As irritating as the man was to talk to his silence was worse. “Hey,” Jayden called “are you still here?” He held his breath grunting as he pulled himself up. Swallowing as the world around him swayed and darkened on a sea of misery. He was sure there wasn’t a spot on his body that wasn’t bruised and sore. His forehead felt cold and clammy and he felt as if he were revolving in a slow endless circle. Clutching his stomach with one hand while covering his mouth with the other he resisted the urge to purge his stomach of its last meal.

Retching would do him little good and would only awaken what few spots had dulled and slept. Death might be more preferable to the agony he suffered.

“Careful what you wish for,” his companion cautioned “there’s a Reaper coming for you.”

“What?” Jayden's voice squeaked, eyes darting around the fog filled landscape. “I don’t see anything.”

“They’re right over there,” he said pointing towards a dark shape in the trees.

It seemed to Jayden that every shadow and indistinct shape was something to be feared. “I must be hallucinating,” he mumbled, shaking his head. It wasn't fear that had him shaking at the thought of a reaper coming for him; it was who he was leaving behind. “Evan needs me. Josie. I can’t go until I know they’re safe. I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Haven’t you been listening to me?” the man asked irritation creeping into his tone. “No one gets out of the hollow.”

“You did,” Jayden stared fuzzily at the man who was … helping him, maybe? “You were riding a horse….” He gasped, lungs seizing up on him sending him into a fit, gasping and coughing that left his entire body weak and light headed.

“Of course I was,” he snapped. “It’s what I always do on this night. Every year on old Hallow’s Eve. For the last one hundred years.”

Jayden gasped, staring at the hands helping him up “that’s not possible unless…” 

“Unless I’m a ghost,” he grinned showing yellowed, rotting teeth.

“Am I dead?” Jayden asked, holding a hand to his throbbing head. He couldn’t imagine feeling this terrible if he were dead.

Letting his body go limp Evan knew struggling would be useless against Jasper’s greater strength. His mind groped for something he could do. Giving up wasn’t an option even if Jasper was worse now than he was when he was alive. Frowning he mulled over what Jasper said “that was a mistake,” he murmured aloud. His eyes slid sideways unable to meet the glaring pits of darkness and hate.

“What did you say?” Jasper bellowed, gripping Evan’s wrist with brutal force.

His breath escaped in a hissing gush as the delicate bones splintered beneath the vice grip like hold Jasper had on him. “You…made…a…mistake” he stammered. His head drooped as his vision dimmed around the edges. “Killing Jayden was a mistake,” he licked his lips, his mouth dry.

Jerking him forward Jasper glared into his face “that was not a mistake. Even as we speak a Reaper is helping him crossover. He’s gone.” Chuckling he tilted his chin in a way Evan knew well, one that showed he knew he was smarter than everyone else.

Shaking his head Evan put his hands up, pushing Jasper away from him wincing as pain took his breath away. “You’re wrong. Jayden won’t leave me. Not in life or death. He’ll come back and this time he’ll be like you.” He hoped he sounded as confident as his words. Inwardly he hoped Jasper were wrong, that Jayden wasn’t dead. 

“Interesting theory,” he grinned “I think we should test it.” Running a finger down Evan’s cheek “I doubt your precious Jayden has changed all that much. He was always a selfish, self-centered little prick. He’ll see what’s on the other side and forget all about you.” Leaning in close “he doesn’t love you as much as I do.”

Evan took in a sharp intake of breath, saying “he loves me.” Turning his face away so that Jasper couldn’t see how much his words hurt, hit the fear deep within him that just maybe Jayden wouldn’t come for him. The self important chuckle in his ear wiped the flicker of doubt from his heart “you won’t win,” he shouted staring stonily into Jasper’s smug face “he loves me. Dead or alive. He’ll come for me.”

An annoyed grunt came out as Jasper leaned in close “you sure about that? So sure you’ll stake your life on it?”

“Yes,” Evan shouted, glaring at the man he hated so much it made him ill.

“Challenge accepted,” he snarled, lifting both hands around Evan’s throat, squeezing, his nails digging into the warm smooth flesh beneath his cold dead fingers. Smirking as his victim’s body went limp in his hands after gurgling it’s last breath.

Previous/Next

[lucien-lachance]

Okay, what's the Gortash propaganda? What's The Deal? I haven't encountered him yet, so I have no clue about his personality, and I Can't See It upon first glance. What's the appeal?

- @supervillain-smut

That’s totally valid! Honestly, Gorty can be…a bit of an acquired taste? He’s not your Stereotypically Hot antagonist, but he’s expressive, charismatic, and a compelling, nuanced character with perfectly human idiosyncrasies once you look beyond his emo hair and silly shoes. And that makes him incredibly magnetic imho. Full disclosure though, the big nose, under-eye shadows, and smug bastardry really hit my buttons from the start. The emo rocker look is a huge bonus. You can take me out of Hot Topic, but you’ll never take the Hot Topic out of me.

But yeah, this turned into a bit of an overboard character analysis? This pixel man is one of the most polarizing pixel men on the planet. Nobody I’ve seen has said, “Oh, Gortash? Yeah, he’s ‘meh’.” Ten seconds on screen, and you’ll want to throw your undies at him or decapitate him on the spot. (some of us gorty girlies would probably do both, tbh). He’s done despicable things in the name of survival, power, and simple pleasure; he’s a domineering, tenacious, S&M-loving Hot Topic enthusiast laced with parental angst and religious fanaticism, and grandiosity. Ruthless and cunning, he's a genius unafraid of flaunting his power and wealth, but who, behind a cultivated veneer of resilience, dominance, and villainy, is also incredibly damaged. Also, he probably has anxiety (bear with me there). I’ll try to avoid big plot spoilers here while still being thorough about his backstory etc.

Oh. Did I mention he’s voiced by Jason Isaacs? Because that…Does Things. sorry this is really long but i literally cannot shut up about my grimy greasy raccoon man. if you want my personal headcanons about anything hmu

So. To start, Gortash grew up in Baldur's Gate as the prodigy son of abusive parents. They describe him as a brilliant but “hateful little wretch. They sell him to a warlock to pay off what they called “world-ending debts”—which, for a terribly abused child, would only compound the confusion, anger, and hurt he’d stewed in for years. As a slave in the Hells, he endured still more abuse. If you break into this devil’s house, you learn that his parents’ “world ending debts” were actually paltry sums. The jailer there admits he liked to “bruise his knuckles” on his “sniveling face,” too, which could account for some of the blockiness in his features and the fact that he doesn't much look like his parents (see repeatedly injured boxers/fighters etc).

Now, those are pretty disparate descriptions of the same child. I side with the jailer, tbh; he has no reason to lie, where Gorty's parents do. Even if he was unruly or disrespectful to them, the fact that he was initially so distraught in the Hells tells me he wasn’t born a monster. He was made a monster by circumstances and his own choices. I like to think he wanted to be loved just as any other child does, but his restless intellect, curiosity, and perhaps a quick, inborn temper clashed with his mother and father’s parenting abilities/styles. They may not have wanted him and resented his existence. Considering his heartless upbringing, it’s obvious why he became what he did. Abuse was all he knew. Desiring, let alone showing, any care was asking to be beaten or ostracized. Nothing came freely. If he wanted something, he had to earn, create, or take it, and everything had consequences. In the Hells, he realized that if he wanted to survive, he couldn’t risk being an abused victim. He had to become the abuser.

And become the abuser he did. He escaped the Hells (probably sometime in his mid-late teens, imho) and became a prolific gang leader, slaver (hello irony), and arms dealer. He also took to the Banite religion, which is a natural fit for a budding tyrant desperate for control, power, vengeance, and personal security. He became the Chosen of the lawful-evil god Bane, a post that gave him more power, resources, and perceived safety than he’d ever known. If he was a blunt fist when he escaped the Hells, the gangs and Banite religion forged him into a knife capable of both precision and outright butchery.

A few game docs imply that he treats sex as a currency like gold or social favors. He had an affair with a prominent noblewoman in his youth, likely for her money. Love this gold-digging, burly-armed raccoon (screencap from the bg3 wiki)

There are some...shenanigans about a now-retconned letter between him and a guy named Franc Peartree, especially since there's some speculation that he didn't actually write it, so I won't get into that here. Hilarious though. Anyway, he’ll threaten and kill anyone that resists him or falls short of his expectations. Lives are meaningless unless they enrich him somehow; they’re tools and a literal currency, just as he’d been a currency to his parents and a tool to the devil that enslaved him. After becoming a lord, he sells his bodyguard—who is described by an NPC as being the only thing that “kept him honest”—to an archdevil to advance his schemes. In my opinion, it was also to rid himself of what he believed was a thorn in his side. He liked and trusted them in his own way, and he saw that as a weakness that must be purged for his own safety and to please his god. He’s a human who cannot afford to be human. He has to stay cold. Detached. Powerful. Mechanical like his weapons and automatons.

As Bane’s Chosen, he killed, connived, and seduced of his way to supreme power in Baldur’s Gate (also with the help some spoilery magic I won't detail. He uses this same magic to torture and enslave two npcs you can meet in act 3. Cold blooded, oof). Yet despite his hunger for control, he doesn’t want to rule alone. He’s completely honest about his offer to ally and share power with. Possibly, he just wants someone close to witness his own glory. Maybe he sees that a loyal partner could help him conquer wider lands. Maybe the heart of the beaten child he’d once been still aches for companionship, even if he can’t consciously acknowledge it anymore. Or it could be that he’s stumbled head over heels for your character. Any and all of it works, imho.

On the topic of the player’s character—if you play as the Dark Urge (aka Durge, Chosen of Bhaal, another evil god allying with Bane), he treats you differently. The man’s stern, knifepoint stares and smug smirks get spiced up with tender smiles and the biggest, wettest puppy eyes you can imagine. The difference is almost jarring. You have some different dialogue options and responses from him, too. The narrator even says he misses teasing Durge and doesn't think you should just submit to him. He’s playful, in his own way. You can side with him as Tav, too, of course, but he and Durge had a pre-canon relationship. Whether it’s romantic, sexual, or platonic/professional is up to you, though lots of in-game hints lean more toward the romantic/sexual angle. That’s where I camp, tbh.

Exhibits A, B, and C bottom two are mods from one of my files. Astarion's VA did the mocap for Gorty as well, and their mannerisms/expressions translate perfectly.)

Now, Durge canonically does some really fucked up things as both religious worship and fun (including cannibalism and necrophilia, big gross) and would arguably be the kinkiest being in Baldur's Gate. So, if you interpret their relationship with Gortash as romantic/sexual, this man would be kinky af, too. Tbh, he probably would be anyway after enduring years in the devil’s house (you'll understand when you get there in-game). He also just had to be literally and figuratively flexible enough to exploit anyone’s appetites for his own gain.

Larian maintains that he's too busy for kisses etc. I doubt any of us really buy that lmao. But however you view their relationship, he’s smitten with Durge, and Tav earns his respect through their strength, tenacity, and victories. Local tyrant actually has a heart locked up in that hairy chest? It’s more likely than you think! We can’t fix him, but he can make us worse. In any case, he's not mindless about his attraction/respect to Durge or Tav. Openly opposing him or breaking your alliance with him triggers him+his Steel Watchers to attack you. People are just tools, remember. RIP he’ll literally hang your corpse over the river for everyone to cringe at.

As I mentioned earlier, Gorty boy is a genius. He’s got a knack for engineering and I’ve seen lots of arguments classing him as an artificer. He designed a mech army of Steel Watchers that he vaunted as soldiers of the future, and a means of policing and protecting the city without losing human lives. It’s all a charade, of course. The Steel Watchers’ invention earned him a lordship and they’re deadly, yes, but they’re not simply the bloodless army with which he vowed to protect everyone. They’re his key to enslaving the city and enforcing his/Bane's tyranny. He also likely designed and fabricated his crossbow, as well as other weaponry. In a modern setting, you know this guy would be that billionaire inventor that eats Bill Gates and Musk etc, then usurps their tech empires.  

Despite calling himself and the other Chosen “servants of [their] gods,” he also seems to hold designs for godhood—and godhood for your character, if you ally with him. He wants to rule all of Toril together as gods. He wants to be “a roaring sun”, not the ravenous darkness normally associated with Bane. Some, myself included, interpret this line as him chafing under his own subservience to Bane, and thus his own weakness and endangerment. He wants to become his own god and truly, truly be free of all others’ power and exert his own. Interestingly, his 80’s rock opera edgelord outfit is covered in Bane’s iconography and colors, yet his Steel Watchers’ armor is notably engraved with light-symbolism. His crossbow also grants the wielder two light/radiant spells. Which is an interesting contrast for sure. So is it all purely a show? Something to symbolize hope in a dark time and better manipulate people? Undoubtedly! But it can also be more personal and hint at his long game. Again, it’s up for personal interpretation.

But amidst it all, he has a bit of a childish streak, too, if seen only rarely or by Durge. If you attack him at a certain point, one of your dialogue options will prompt The Tyrant of Baldur's Gate not to punch, slap, stab, or shoot you, but to kick you in the shins and taunt you like a cheap schoolyard bully. Amazing.

I’ll end with another quick note on his clothing. The Cloth of Authority, as it’s called, makes the wearer immune to emotion-altering conditions/spells, gives you 1+ armor bonus, and gives you an advantage in intimidation and insight checks. So, you can't panic etc and it lets you more easily detect lies and talk shit without getting hit, so to speak. Are these effects simply useful for a man trying to take over a city or run criminal enterprises? Hell yeah. But they’d also be pretty damned necessary for an abuse victim subjected to slavery and horrific living conditions, likely became anxiety-prone, and who is probably terrified of becoming a victim again. I like the idea that both ideas are valid. The stupid messy lace job on his shirt is A+++, too. Indifference, not knowing how to lace it, an intentional shade of sluttiness, who cares? He somehow makes it work despite being the most powerful guy in the city. Bonus points for the shameless chest hair tease and unabashed crotch bulge.  

So, uhhhh, yeah. I hope that sort of makes sense and flows okay. In conclusion, he’s terrifyingly amoral, intelligent, and the left hand of an evil god, but under Jason Isaacs’ voice and all the fancy clothes and horror, he’s still Just Some Guy, and I just think he’s neat.