#yes i know hes a war criminal but hes hot and pathetic and smart

[alliekitaguchi]

thinking once again about the final fight with lucien when lucien threw the tower caleb was standing on at essek. how essek used his action and burned his fortune's favor to pull caleb free of the rubble. how caleb pressed his forehead to essek's. how when caleb was downed, essek was so angry that he used his 8th level gravity fissure only after realizing that caleb was awake again. how essek had to watch him die and be brought back. how he pretty much never left caleb's side again, and years later, still yearns for him in the exact same way he did in aeor.

[keravnous]

- agent 14/agent steven haines; my drug is my baby (nsft, smut)

It's hot out and Steve's wide awake. His bedroom windows are opened and there's a soft breeze rolling in, toying with the curtains and leaving a soft trace on his warm skin. He sighs and rolls on his stomach, blindly reaching out with one hand, until he touches his phone. His hand clutches around it and pulls. The display blinds him for a split second and he curses under his breath. No new messages.

He's not really surprised. The only person messaging him these days is 14 but they aren't really talking right now, with both of them still being so goddamn angry, so that's that.

He mindlessly checks his social, a former frat getting married, another couple buying another dog and someone's new car. He doesn't care, he can't even bring himself to act, to convince at least himself, that he does. He's missing something. Someone.

His thumb hovers over the display.

No. Yes. No.

He can hear the city breathe. Cars honking, the tram and a slight wind rustling the few leaves this grey concrete hell hole still has to offer. He misses the sound Warren makes, when he's asleep, how soft his breath is.

Steve shakes his head, as if that would have him get rid of the thought more easily. He misses his warmth, how he sometimes hooks one leg around his, arms stretched out. When he's asleep they don't fight.

Steve knows that he can't blame it on 14, they both are to blame, they both are equally responsible. If one of their superiors ever were to find out what they had been doing these past months they'd both vanish from this earth, erradicated like they'd never exist, justified by their act of treason.

And yet there they are: fighting. Rather with their fists and teeth, than with words. His colleagues start to notice the bruises (and even though they don't say a word he is still paranoid about it). Not all of them are born out of aggression, most are a result of the lust that captures their fucked up minds once the violence starts to blossom between them. It turns them on, it turns Steve on, when Warren's hands connect with him in the worst ways possible. It makes his blood sing and his dick hard and he just wants. Wants to press the other man down and take take take until the taking becomes an act of giving, which always errupts the most beautiful sounds from Warren.

He hates himself for the thought, but everything could be just perfect, they could be perfect, like handmade pieces carved to only fit each other. But it's not like that, it's way more hurtful. Their opinions on work, on the government and secret agencies drift apart like Pangaea. It's hell really, one of them starts screaming at one point and then there's no going back. They are both too ambitious, willing to sacrifice everything for their jobs and sometimes Steve wonders not if there will be, but how huge of a blood bath they will go down in. The thought scares him and he knows it scares Warren too, but they don't talk about it, keep their fears far away from each other, locked behind thick vault doors.

They often try their hardest not to talk about work. But eventually, like most people who only really live for their jobs, they drift back to it. It's Steve, who hates that Warren himself is somewhat a criminal and it's Warren who hates, that Steve won't admit that he isn't far form it himself.

They blame and attack each other for failures or provocations of their respective employers and it either ends in slammed doors or sweaty bodies sticking together.

Steve misses it, the adrenaline that shoots through his veins in these moments, the way Warren's body responds to his, how the other feels under his fingers. He misses misses misses and it keeps him awake.

He thinks about the last time he's seen Warren, squirming beneath him, throwing his head back, arching into his touch while throwing slurs his way. Steve thinks about him, about his touch. It's torture and he rolls back onto his stomach, while his mind conjures up a truly beautiful, delicious image.

Steve's sitting down, legs spread wide, back straightend but relaxed nonetheless. Warren kneels in front of him, cheeks slightly reddend, his hands carefully resting on Steve's firm thighs. His eyes are trained on Steve's hard dick, obscenely standing against his abdomen. Warren's bleeding. His nose looks broken and blood slowly tickles over his plump lips, down his chin. His tongue darts out, licks it away, cleans his lips.

Steve groans quietly and rocks his hips into the mattress once, twice, his hands gripping into the sheets as he rocks against the surface, growing hotter and harder.

He had betrayed him, sold his secrets, endangered Steve's life and thus, he has to show him his place again. Warren's eyes are trained on his cock and Steve hums, gently places his hand on the back of 14's head, runs it down to his neck, around to the front and presses down. The noise that erupts from Warren's throat makes the hairs on Steve's body stand up, as he slowly tilts his head back, giving Steve better access to his throat. Blood runs down the delicate, pale skin, pools between Steve's fingers. He runs his hand up again, brushes across Warren's lower lip with his thumb, then forces three fingers in. He gags, his eyelids flutter, before he starts sucking.

Steve moans. The sound is deep in his throat and his boxers are groing tight fast. He impatiently pulls the front down and himself out, raises his hip and closes his hand around his dick.

"You want the real thing, don't you, pretty boy?" Warren's bloody chin now dripples with saliva and he nods, hums around Steve's fingers. He pulls them out and looks at Warren, hits him another time across the face for good measure.

"Come on then, right your wrongs", Steve leans back and Warren lashes forward, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe from the base to the top.

Steve tucks at himself and moans. It doesn't replace Warren, his scent, his touch, how he feels around and underneath him, his voice but it'll do, if he keeps himself focussed enough. He hates him so much, it makes his stomach twist, he hates his arrogant smile, the edge to his voice when he feels superior and his strut, how he tilts his shoulders back. Steve wants to take one of his cigarettes and burn his delicate skin right there between his shoulder blades, so he won't act all high and mighty anymore. Steve also wants so put his hands on his skin, his body and worship it, every little mole, kiss it until the world ends, burning and crumbling by the wars they wage.

He spits into his hand, rubbing his own saliva around his dick.

Warren leans in, all wet lips, blood and saliva and throaty groans and closes his lips around the tip of Steve's cock. His tongue swirls around it in the warmth in his mouth, hot liquid dripping down the hard shaft.

Steve rolls around, thrusting into his fist, his head buried deep in his cushion, moaning from the back of his throat. His body feels lonely, oddly cold, even though it's warm out and in his bedroom as well, and he raises his free hand, runs it across his flushed chest in a manner Warren would. It makes his heart flutter and his dick twitch.

"You like that, huh?" Warren lets his dick go with an obscene sound and hums deep in his throat.

"Yeah, fuck, I do."

It's what sends Steve to do an insanely stupid thing. He reaches out and grabs his phone, unlocks it while cupping his balls with one hand, squeezing and tugging, while scrolling through his contacts.

The voice on the other end sounds tired, not angry at all. Steve would like to be it the other way around, he wants to be yelled at, hit and torn.

"Why the fuck are you calling, it's literally three in the morning", there's a little yawn and Steve wishes he'd be here, "You better be bleeding out somewhere to bother me now, Haines."

He wants to hit him back with something witty, smart, rude but there's nothing more leaving his mouth but a moan, as his hand wanders up his dick again. There's silence on the other end. It makes his blood race, boil.

"Haines?"

"Yeah fuck, who do you think it is?", his voice is deep and buried in his throat. He groans.

There's a low chuckle on the other end. He wishes he could see that smile, he wishes he could tear it off of Warrens face.

"You ain't really getting yourself off right now, are you?", and when there's no answer just a deep and low sigh, 14 tsks, "That's actually pathetic, Haines."

He sounds wide awake now. Good.

"Tell me", there's shuffling on the other end, "Tell me what you're doing, you moron."

Steve smiles and tugs at his dick, with Warren purring deep into his ear. "Fuck, I'm", he sighs, feels the tension running deep through his stomach, "Touching myself."

"And you're thinking of me? How cute. Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Haines?"

Usually it's Steve who has the upper hand in the little dangerous game they're playing, it comes naturally with him being the higher ranking one, but he will make an exception tonight. Warren's tone is spurring him on, how he talks down on him. He would love for Warren to be here, for Warren to look and talk down on him, to spit in his face and sneer at him.

The words leave his mouth quicker than he can act against them.

"Wish you were here, fuck, touching me."

_

The next morning Steve's late to work. He doesn't even remember the last time he hasn't been on time. Must've been years ago. His chest burns as his shirt rubs over the sore skin. Warren had told him to run his hands over his chest harder harder harder until his nails had scraped the skin. The stinging sensation feels good, it's a nice reminder of last night.

As he rushes towards the FIB building across the empty plaza, he sees a figure leaning against one of the chairs.

"Late, Haines?", it's Warren. He's smoking a cigarette.

Steve raises his hand and shows him his finger.

He knows he's fucked, they both are.

_

It's Wednesday when he gets the mail and Friday when he enters the meeting room. His boss is there and so is Mrs. Rackham, he's seen her once or twice, but this time she's not alone. There are other agents with her and, of course because his life's just gotta be like that, 14 is there too.

His gaze drops to Steve's take-away cup and his lips curl into a smug grin. "If I knew we were having a potluck, I would've brought something as well", his voice is deep and calm, collected, like velvet and Steve'-s pulse sings with it.

"14", Mrs. Rackham's voice cuts through the air, admonishing, like a mother scolding her child.

Now it's Steve's time to grin and he drops his free hand to his belt, hooks one thumb underneath it and cocks his hips forward, looks at Warren. It's the same look he shoots him when Warren sinks to his knees to obediently suck his dick and he eyes him up and down. 14 blushes, his gaze drops.

Steve bathes in his display of power, the feeling that erupts from it takes him flying high. To them, it looks like 14 is listening to his superior but only the two of them know that he isn't. Only the two of them know that he's bowing to Steve's will. They had a change in their power dynamic last night and Steve is not willing to accept that, maybe he's even afraid to do so.

As they take their seats they look at each other once more and Steve feels his stomach flutter.

_

They were at each others throats the second they found themselves to be alone on the floor. Now, only a few minutes later, Steve has Warren bend over the sink of the bathroom. The door is locked but the idea of them being caught, someone seeing how he toys with one of the leading IAA Field Agents, still excites him. He has one hand around Warrens throat, his thumb pressing his chin upward, their eyes meeting in the mirror.

14 is crying. Small, thick tears run down his cheeks, silent evidence of his denied orgasm. He's very pretty that way, Steve thinks, when his cheeks redden and his eyes turn dark, like the stormy sea and his hair's in a mess. He loves it when Warren cries, the sounds he makes and-

"Please."

Steve stops his slow and deep thrusts and blinks dumbfounded. One, two, three seconds pass until he moves again. Laughter spills out of his mouth, deep and satsified.

"What a pretty sound for a pretty boy, huh?", his hand strokes over Warren's ass cheek, gently kneading the flesh below the palm. It's soft and warm and it grounds him.

His voice drops in both, octave and volume, as he leans forward, shoving himself even deeper into 14, lips against his ear. "Say that again", he whispers, tongue darting out and toying with his earlobe.

"Please, Steve. For fucks sake, please fuck me", Warren moans and throws his head back, pressing his throat into Steve's palm more firmly. He presses down and Warren yelps, squirms and their gazes meet in the mirror once more.

Warren holds his own mouth shut with one hand, drowning his moans and screams, as Steve ruts into him like an animal gone wild, fucking them both senseless.

_

Steve's phone rings and he picks up, opening another bottle of wine.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"So, you're still alive then?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." Why wouldn't I be?

"Good. Just wanted to check."

"Warren?"

"Yeah?"

"Should I be worried?"

"No", and he trust him, because the word carries all the fear, all the thoughts that Steve grew so painfully familiar with.

_

The next time they see each other is a rather spontaneous thing. Well, at least Steve hasn't invited Warren over but there he is, standing in his doorway, hair a mess, his leather jacket on. He eyes Steve up and down, his gaze stops at the obvious bandage around his upper arm. Warren slowly raises his hand and gently touches it. Steve doesn't flinch.

"I saw the news", Warren says, his voice low and nearly inaudible.

"I'm fine."

"You got shot", he looks seriously upset now.

"I'm still alive, ain't I?"

And then he's on him, arms around his neck, lips pressed onto his own, hungrily devouring him. Steve feels Warren's warmth radiating against him and he slips his hands under his jacket, pulls his firm, muscular frame closer, flush against him. "I-, I was-", he doesn't have to say it, Steve knows anyway. Afraid, Worried, Scared, Frightened.

"I'm still here, pretty boy", he runs his good hand through Warren's dark hair and they look at each other and Steve knows, it hits him like a train, that they are both gone. Warren's gaze is soft and it's so beautiful, but somehow Steve wishes he'd yell at him again, lash out and throw hands at him. That was easier to handle than whatever they just turned into.

They are gentle with each other, for the first time. It's all slow kisses, soft touches and intertwined bodies, heat and whispered words. Steve holds Warren by his hips as he grinds down on his dick and gently brushes over his abdomen, his hip bones and chest with his hands, wants to feel and discover every inch of his body. Warren leans down and kisses him, soft and warm, plush lips that gently move against his own, a tongue darting out, making its way into his mouth. It makes his stomach flutter and fingertips tingle, so he hooks his good arm around his waist and helps 14 to rock onto him, the other hand gently resting on his leg.

They cum with their foreheads pressed together firmly, so close together that their eyelashes are nearly touching, gazes locked on each other. Steve pulls Warren close after that, hooks his good arm around him and it doesn't take long until they are at each other again, kissing gently, hands wandering, tongues touching.

_

Steve wakes up in the early hours of the next morning, Warren's back pressed against him. His breath is easy, he seems to be sleeping still. Steve buries his nose in his neck and breathes in. Out. In. Out. In - until he falls asleep again.

_

Ignoring each other at work and during the breaks becomes increasingly harder. Steve is getting itchy with the stress it puts onto him.

_

"The fuck did you do?", Warren slams his glas down. It doesn't break but Steve hears it shatter anyways. Of course they'd fight once again, once more. Maybe they never really stopped, maybe they were just on a break, an armistice.

He's talking about Michael and his associates kidnapping Mr. K.

"This is business, Warren. This has nothing to do with you."

"Are you completely nuts, Haines? She'll have your head for this, Daniels will kill you."

Steve looks at him and his gaze quickly turns into a stare. This is not about him, it never has been and it now dawns on him. He's not even yelling, his voice is firm and nearly a whisper.

"Me? Don't you dare act like you care about me when it comes to this. You're afraid what this will mean for you, aren't you? If they ever unveil that you fuck me, the one responsible for subject K gone missing? What will they think of you then, huh?"

Warren blinks. Once, twice. "Are you fucking deluded, Haines?"

Steve has missed how Warren beats and tears at his clothes and hurts so so so good. He relishes in the pain that 14 is exposing him to, until he can't hold back the gnarling animal in his chest anymore and lashes out as well, hits back and hits hits hits until they are covered in blood.

_

It hurts so good, his cuts and bruises hurt so good. Steve had missed this, missed the pain so much. Warren lies next to him, chest heaving, blood on his hands and his face, it's in his hair and on his legs as well. Steve wants to fuck him raw, until he screams and cries.

Steve wants to make Warren his, and only his. And he's ready to give himself up for it, too.

[violent-optimism]

Ranking the Uncharted Villains

Hey Everyone!

I know this post is kind of out of the blue. The truth is I’ve been working on it for about a month or two. It’s taken me a long time to make but it’s finally done and I am ready to share it with you all!

Please enjoy this ranking of all the villains in the Uncharted game series. The order of characters is from worst to best. These are just my personal opinions, and I don’t mean to change anyone’s minds!

Also, please excuse the poor quality of some of these images, I struggled to find high quality ones!

(Note: I will not be including minor/side villains like Ramses, Orca, etc.)

Gabriel Roman – Simon Templeman

So let’s start off with, in my opinion, the worst of the bunch, and not in a good way. Roman is not a horribly written villain at all, but compared to some of the other Uncharted baddies, he’s pretty boring. There’s not much about him that is interesting or unique. He’s just an old British guy hell-bent on finding the treasure before our heroes do. Never seen that before! Although I will give him props for being the only Uncharted villain to actually “kill” one of the heroes…for a limited time that is.

Atoq Navarro – Robin Atkin Downes

Much like his boss, Navarro ain’t that special either. He doesn’t even have that many lines or screen time until the later chapters of the game. One could easily forget about his existence, especially during the more intense areas of the campaign. However, Navarro is slightly better than Roman in one specific way, in that he is revealed to have been pulling the strings all along; and is in fact the main baddie whom you fight in the final showdown. He appears to be far more intelligent than originally shown, which makes for an interesting twist when he betrays Roman and ultimately kills him.

Asav – Usman Ally

For those of you who have had the pleasure to experience the amazing game that is Uncharted: The Lost Legacy, you are probably very familiar with this villain. To put it plainly, Asav is a delusional yet intelligent psychopath who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. While seemingly very intimidating at first, Asav’s plan starts to fall apart towards the end of the game thanks to the insane stubbornness of Chloe and Nadine. In truth, Asav is actually nothing more than a madman who struggles to see beyond his own vision. He is definitely well written (and acted) but he fails to hold up against some of the franchise’s more iconic villains.

Eddy Raja – James Sie

Speaking of iconic villains, it doesn’t get any more iconic than this hilarious baddie from the original game. While he doesn’t have a terrible amount of screen time, Eddy completely steals the show whenever he’s around thanks to the brilliant comedic timing of James Sie. Eddy is an interesting character as he somehow manages to be intimidating and pathetic at the same time. Hot-headed and completely full of himself, the Indonesian crime lord is a classic villain with only one true motivation: treasure (lots of it!). I do acknowledge that Nate and Eddy teamed up before his rather gruesome death, but let’s be honest…he’s definitely a bad guy, no question about it.

Katherine Marlowe – Rosalind Ayres

Looks can be deceiving, and while Marlowe might look like a sweet old lady, she is anything but. Cold, manipulative and incredibly smart; Marlowe is the only Uncharted villain to have literally been at odds with Nate for most of his treasure hunting life. Granted, she needs help from her loyal bodyguards in order to fully enact her wicked deeds, but Marlowe is a very imposing woman nonetheless. Preferring psychological warfare and controlling her enemies through fear, Marlowe is one of Nathan Drake’s greatest adversaries, and rightfully so!

Talbot - Robin Atkin Downes

Probably the most terrifying thing about this Uncharted baddie is just how little we actually know about him. Wherever Marlowe goes, Talbot is never far behind. Throughout his appearances in Uncharted 3, the secondary villain appears to do things that should be impossible. He’s like a magician, a secret service agent and a sadist rolled into one terrifying man. While seeming prim and proper on the outside, Talbot houses an evil streak and shares his superior’s goal of dominating opponents through fear and pain. Oh, and definitely don’t accept any drugs he offers…

Rafe Adler – Warren Kole

Rafe has got to be the worst example of what happens when you spoil your kids. What do all men with money want? More money. With big dreams of finding Henry Avery’s treasure and the bank account to pull it off, Rafe will stop at nothing to prove he is more than just another rich white guy (which he totally is). However, money isn’t the only thing that Rafe has going for him. He does an exceptional job at pretending to act like a sane individual. In truth, he’s a psychotic monster with a temper that’s always bubbling just below the surface. Rafe doesn’t care about being nice and never will, he just wants one thing and I’m pretty sure you know what that is (psst…treasure).

Nadine Ross - Laura Bailey

To be honest, I sort of struggled on whether or not to actually include Nadine on this list. Yes, she is one of the main villains in Uncharted 4, but as we know from The Lost Legacy, she isn’t all bad, and isn’t nearly as loathsome as some of the other characters on this list.

That being said, Nadine is not to be messed with. She literally packs a punch! Capable of fighting two grown men at once, the leader of Shoreline will make you think twice about the phrase: “hits like a girl”. Straightforward, blunt and not one to mince words, Nadine is as strategic as she is lethal. She also has the unique experience of being the only Uncharted villain to avoid death. In the end, she’s all the better for it.  

Harry Flynn – Steve Valentine

It’s impossible to overstate just how entertaining this character is. Flynn is a villain that you love to hate. While not quite as witty as Drake, Flynn does possess a wicked sense of humor; ultimately dishing out some of the most hilarious dialogue in the entire Uncharted series. What is interesting about Flynn is that he honestly just seems like an ordinary guy who made some very wrong choices. His lack of intelligence and pathetic tendencies don’t make him very threatening; especially in comparison to his villain counterpart.

On the other hand, Flynn does seem to get a kick out of fooling Drake and even lands a rather devastating gunshot wound on our hero. Although he tries his best to impress Lazarevic, his efforts aren’t up to snuff, and the villain dies in what is probably one of the most tragic and unexpected deaths of the series.

Zoran Lazarevic – Graham McTavish

Come on, who else could earn the number one spot on this list? In my opinion, Lazarevic is by far the scariest and most dangerous villain in Uncharted. Described as a “psychopathic war criminal” by Elena, the main baddie from Uncharted 2 has no issue with killing his own men if he believes it will help him reach his goal. There is a certain philosophy to him, as he is inspired by the “great men” of history (i.e. Hitler) and wishes to go down in history as a similar figure. He’s a complete sadist and enjoys taunting people with games that put lives at risk. Lazarevic (allegedly) becomes invincible, so much so that even Nathan Drake can’t defeat him. He is utterly insane and if given the opportunity, will snap a few necks and take great pleasure in doing so. Lazarevic is the best Uncharted villain, hands down.

I hope you guys enjoyed my list! Let me know what you think!