#he wants to be worthy of their love trust and devotion and he returns it tenfold

[thehandsresisthim]

“headcanon: stronger!reader dating bucky”

content: nsft, bucky x reader, very slight d/s dynamics, gn!reader, dom!reader, sub!bucky, takes place post catws, no desc. of readers body (altho there is a mention of reader being very strong/able to overpower bucky, but how that comes about is open to interpretation)

word count: ~500

james ‘bucky’ barnes who has a bit of a crush on you since you’ve been introduced to each other

｡☆ﾟ…who sees you beat other men in hand-to-hand to combat and can’t help but admire you

｡☆ﾟ…who catches himself watching you fight, and wonders if you can beat him too

｡☆ﾟ…who ends up shyly asking you to fight him too, and who can’t help but feel happy when you beat him

｡☆ﾟ…who feels a strange comfort in knowing that you can physically overpower him

｡☆ﾟ…who is now more comfortable in accepting his feelings for you, since he knows now that you’ll be able to handle him should he “get out of control”

｡☆ﾟ…who catches himself imagining being praised by you, and finds the concept quite attractive

｡☆ﾟ…who ends up dreaming about you cooing at him and making him feel all pretty

｡☆ﾟ…who desperately wants you to make him feel like he’s good, and worthy of praise

｡☆ﾟ…who starts to spend more time around you, and who seems to enjoy it when you ask him to do things for you

｡☆ﾟ…who ends up giving you a bouquet of your favourite flowers and shyly asking you out

｡☆ﾟ…who beams with happiness when you say yes

｡☆ﾟ…who feels safe with you in a way that he has not in a long time

｡☆ﾟ…who slowly opens up more and more to you

｡☆ﾟ…who, after some time, has enough courage and trust in himself to sleep next to you

｡☆ﾟ…who hugs you whilst making sure that his left arm doesn’t touch you, because he’s still worried that you see him as some kind of monster

｡☆ﾟ…who whimpers when you start to gently kiss his left shoulder, and then carefully kiss all over the vibranium material of his arm

｡☆ﾟ…who catches himself getting turned on as you praise him

｡☆ﾟ…who quickly covers his mouth as you gently kiss his neck

｡☆ﾟ…who whines when you ask him to stop holding back his noises, but nods and does so regardless

｡☆ﾟ…who openly moans when you kiss his neck again

｡☆ﾟ…who unconsciously starts humping against your thigh

｡☆ﾟ…who twitches when you ask him if he wants you to touch him

｡☆ﾟ…who loses the ability to speak when you ask so caringly, and just nods and moans

｡☆ﾟ…who goes into total pillow prince mode once you gently undo his belt and carefully undress him

｡☆ﾟ…who just goes ‘please, please please, please…’ or ‘t-thank you, thank you’ or ‘i love you…’

｡☆ﾟ…whose words become slurred and interrupted by his moans and whines

｡☆ﾟ…who looks so happy once you push him over the edge - either with your mouth or your hands, he’ll be so grateful either way

｡☆ﾟ…who is insistent on returning the gesture, obsessed with making you feel good too

｡☆ﾟ…who feels absolutely elated when you allow him to, but also understands if you don’t

｡☆ﾟ…who looks up at you, a look of utter devotion in his blue eyes, hoping to satisfy you

｡☆ﾟ…who finally feels at peace when you both fall asleep next to each other

thank you for reading!! i appreciate any kind of interaction with my posts!!

follow this link to see my master list, if i can interest you in more of my fics ❤️

[heretherebedork]

I was just reading your post about Way's betrayal and how that relates to the idea of family that Babe is building with Charlie. And I have a *lot* of feelings about Way's betrayal, and the fact that he consistently devalues Babe's ability to love *in general* because Babe won't/can't love him in the specific way he wants, even though Babe obviously adores him. And I feel like that must come through for Babe - not only that Way doesn't want him to love anyone romantically if it can't be him, and acts to make sure that he doesn't try - but also that his love in general isn't valuable if it doesn't take the specific shape Way wants. And then along comes Charlie, and says "Not only are you worthy of love, loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done and I'm prepared to devote my literal life to it." And then he steps that up and says "Not only is your romantic love valuable, but you have such obvious love in you that I think you would make a great parent, that you could be trusted and relied upon to love and nurture a child. And I would like to be involved in that personally." And for Way, his best friend, the person he trusts most, to turn around and take this thing he's only just started internalising about himself and betray it, to say that it would be fine for him to have these children they both know Tony is going to sell to the highest bidder just because it would make Tony stop chasing them? I don't have words. Just... thank god he'd made up with Charlie by that point because imagine him having to process that alone. Anyway, thank you for your excellent post and sorry for the flailing in your askbox. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this aspect of things.

I think part of what I find most fascinating is that Babe stayed in denial of Way's romantic love for him as long as possible including dismissing it as unimportant compared to their friendship even after he had to know what was going on.

And Babe having to face that Way not only manipulated him and controlled him in that final moment but the idea that he had been doing that all along? That Way had been telling him that love wasn't worthwhile because it wasn't the love Way wanted him to have?

Charlie really does give Babe everything he needs and wants, to be loved and to cared for and to be trusted and to be told that he is not just worthy but that he can be more.

That's why that whole Mama and Papa thing is so beautiful and seeing Way try to twist it is even worse. Because, to Babe, being called Mama is the most amazing thing. As you said, it validates not only that he is worthy of love but that he is worthy of giving love.

Babe has, for a very long time, locked up his want to be loved and to love in return, locked it behind sex and masculinity and the real belief that he wasn't worthy of loving or being loved, that he would never find what he was searching for and so he stopped searching. Why search for love when the one person who knew you better than anyone else convinced you that it could never be yours?

Charlie gave him love, gave him the chance to love and be loved, to be cared for and held and for all those soft moment and then Charlie said 'Mama, you are worthy of love and of being loved and making a family, a new family, a better family' and Babe melted entirely because he so desperately wants that.

And that's why Way's love is even more painful. Because Way loved Babe only if he was Way's. That's why I call Way an incel. Because the Babe that Way loved was a a Babe that Way was trying to shape. It was not the real Babe, not the babygirl who melts into Charlie's arms and melts into the pet name of Mama. Way loved his idea of Babe and that was why he was so able to hurt him.

Babe dreams of a family and raising children and having his lover at his side but Way dreams of the idea of Babe at his side and that means that none of the rest of it matters.

Way twisted Babe's dreams to fit his own. He saw Babe wanting a family and decided that going back to their original family would be just as good, wouldn't it? Now, a lot of that does come from the abusive nature of their former family that Babe escaped in a way Way didn't escape but that's just as hard to really focus on because, yes, it's an explanation but it's not an excuse.

Way has created a hole in heart that he keeps trying to fit Babe into because he's convinced that hole is Babe-shaped but the truth is that hole in his heart can never be filled because no one will ever fit that perfectly into yourself with no rough edges or snags.

Charlie lied to Babe but he also loved Babe for Babe and that is why he found his way back to Babe's side while Way lied to Babe but he loved who Babe should have been according to him and that is why he didn't understand when Babe exploded at him.

(Someday, Way may understand why Babe was so hurt but I don't think he's accepted that yet and that is why he is so dangerous. Because he still believes he can get Babe back by bringing him to his side... not understanding what he did to him.)

[justaz]

post magic reveal, post magic ban lifted, arthur gets to see merlin in all his glory and somehow falls deeper in love with him than he ever thought possible. merlin who is free and accepted and loved and ecstatic by it all, but there's that thought lingering in the back of his mind that only half of their destiny has been fulfilled. magic has returned to camelot but albion is still fractured in many different kingdoms, many of which are still holding onto the hate that uther spread which is seeping into the very fabric of the earth itself. druids and magic users and even magic creatures are still persecuted all across the realm and yeah camelot opened her arms to them but not everyone trusts it (justifiably).

arthur who is choking on the sheer amount of love he has for merlin and promising himself that he'll tell merlin, he'll confess, even if he feelings aren't reciprocated. merlin will know. merlin who has been chewing on an idea for some time now and is planning on bringing it up to arthur. its night as merlin is dressing arthur for bed and they're both quiet and tense. they break at the same time and end up speaking over one another. arthur allows merlin to go first since his nerves are eating away at him. then merlin speaks of leaving.

arthur feels his nerves rot and decay and fall into a bottomless pit. merlin is rambling about how every magical being in albion is still being targeting by various kingdoms and as the prophesied emrys, magic incarnate, druid king, should he not be doing more to help? he doesn't want to leave arthur's side, but he does want to help his people. he's seen only a fraction of the atrocities committed against them and he wishes to protect them, give them somewhere completely safe, a kingdom of magic so to speak. he promises that he'll only be gone for as long as it takes to establish a kingdom (a year? two? three?) but he promises to write and visit often...as long as arthur gives him permission and allows him to leave his service for the time being.

arthur of course agrees, half unhappy about it but completely understanding. surely, out of everyone, he is the one who can understand the weight of responsibility weighing on merlin's shoulders. he mentions that merlin will need someone with experience wearing the crown to guide him. plus, balance. merlin was always there for arthur, guiding him on how to be a better man, a great king, someone worthy of the praise he constantly spewed. it's only right that arthur gets to return that by helping merlin establish a safe haven and home for his people. and politically, camelot being the first kingdom to recognize merlin's and establish some trade agreement or treaty with them will strengthen merlin's kingdom's status and send a message that camelot stands with magic.

merlin smiles wide and asks what arthur was going to say. the king hesitates before biting his tongue and requesting that merlin bring up the honey cakes that had been prepared earlier that night. two of them. since merlin was no longer in his service, he didn't have to stand by and watch arthur eat - not that he ever did, the idiot loved to steal his food. shamelessly!! he never even tried to hide it. they both sat at the table in his chambers until late in the night, nibbling away at the sweets, chasing it down with wine, and chatting away.

arthur wasn't able to confess, but it did not change his feelings. if anything, merlin's heart and the decision he made only added fuel to the raging inferno of love and devotion within arthur. he knows that merlin will keep in contact and will return to his side one day. he gets through the tough days/nights by rereading merlin's letters and imagining seeing him again in royal garb and donning a crown.

[themadlu]

I absolutely love Zelie!

Could you write something set right after the game ends? She is tired as hell and overstressed and Astarion tries to make her feel better?

Thanks for the ask @spacebarbarianweird! I'm so happy you like her, as I love Tiriel! Wonder if they'd get along, uh.

Premise, I have never done asks (unless it's for a writing exercise) nor I am good (capable?) of writing fluff. So beware, there's as much fluff I can muster here, with a smidge of angst.

TW: none.

Tags: end-of-game spoilers (I haven't finished it yet, so if something is incorrect sorry!), fluff (kinda?), these two love in quality time and acts of service.

Hope you like it!

The charred edges of a frayed shirt stare at Astarion from the floor. He glares at them, at what they represent, in contempt: his return to the shadows. All that unprecedented (and mostly unwilling) heroism he displayed in fighting the Netherbrain served him nothing. Nothing. Not even saving Baldur’s Gate makes him worthy of a life in the sun, it seems, because, as soon as that jiggly monstrosity fell to its death, Astarion began to burn and the hunger tore at his insides.  

On the run, again, nothing more than a ravenous monster lurking in the shadows. 

(Somewhere, his conscience reminds him that real monsters don’t have impossible little heroes shielding them from the harming light with their own broken bodies.)

The elf laughs bitterly at that, hissing when his grimace irritates the still-healing skin around his mouth. 

And yet…

Steps resonate further down the hallway with a familiarity that makes his ears twitch in recognition and his body tense in eagerness. 

…she’s here. 

Zélie opens the door of their shared bedroom (Only theirs, finally.), closing it promptly behind her to block the stray sun rays from the corridor’s windows. A funereal darkness, one that Astarion is all too well-acquainted with, shrouds the room in a still embrace. 

Astarion is almost glad that his Zélie is human when surrounded by shadows. Back then, before the blooming trust, the tense friendship, the impossible devotion, he despised the maddening woman (He was terrified of her, so inconceivably real.) The darkness was the only time he had the advantage when her pale eyes would squint in temporary blindness and not witness the violence her stern kindness did to him. How it undid the tenets of the world, one by one. 

You ruined me, darling. Look at me, a fool in a doomed love. What a ridiculous joke of a vampire you made me!

He should be prowling for blood and cursing the sun, yet here he is, smiling, trying his damn hardest not to rush into his woman’s embrace. You will return to me begging when she’s gone, what’s left of his spite whispers. He ignores it, because that part of him has never known what it means to be cherished simply for existing (It knows all about being wanted, although comparing that with whatever stolen miracle he and Zélie have makes Astarion gag.)

“Finally, darling! Here I thought I’d seen the last of you, lost among all that dreadful politicking—” his snarky quips (They are part of him and Zélie loves them, so he’s decided he’ll greet her with one every single day.) die in his throat when he properly looks at her. 

Hells, he had gotten into the habit of scanning her for possible injuries during their travels, but now the fight is over, without visible wounds or bruises, Astarion can fully see the toll their adventure has taken on her. Her eyes are tired and bruised from lack of sleep (Of course, she’s been foregoing sleep to spend time with him at night.), her face tauter than ever, skin so sallow she looks sick. Astarion presses himself against her and bristles when he feels her ribs poking his body through their clothes. 

Worry, guilt, anger grip him. His brave, little saviour looks so unlike herself. So fragile and exhausted that he fears she’ll crumble to dust should he touch her. He forgets she’s human and not a divine being sometimes, with all that practicality and stony attitude of hers. Never complaining, never relenting (He knows it well.)

You moronic creature! How dare you reduce yourself in this state.

“Darling, what—”

“Oh, hello, Astarion,” Zélie seems to take notice of him only when he’s practically caging her against the door. She’s making an effort not to slide to the floor, he can tell. 

Fucking idiot. 

“Are you well? I hope the room is comfortable enough?” she nearly slurs.  

“Am I well?” Oh, now he’s angry, “Love, what the fuck—”

“Language! No need to be rude,” Astarion feels some relief when Zélie’s irises spark with that annoyed light he coaxes out of her oh-so-well. She inhales deeply, continuing “I came to tell you that I will be late tonight, so you could come and meet me near the main city gate? There’s barely any Fists left, and lots of properties have been robbed or vandalised since there are no guards so Wyll asked me—what’s with that look now?”

The pale elf stares at her perplexed face down his nose, nostrils flaring. “Do you hear yourself, you wretch?!” Her eyes are reduced to judging slits and she’s about to chastise him, but Astarion is undeterred. “No, rather, have you looked at yourself recently? Literal corpses have a healthier…flair than you do now, darling. Myself included.” 

Zélie scoffs (Scoffs!), “Oh Astarion, I admire how far you’ve come with showing concern, really, but,” she tries to push past him, but even her martial art is worthless against his full vampiric strength, “there are things, oh you vexing elf! Things that need tending to even if I’d much rather spend the foreseeable future here with you–hey!”

Astarion feels somewhat proud of the shout she lets out when he picks her up with ease (Not so puny, after all.) She is so light something lodges in his throat (Frustration at his inability to keep her safe.) and he hopes that his renewed strength is what makes his gesture so effortless. 

No one should be this light.

She used to weigh almost the same as him, all muscle and sinew from her training and a life of comfortable abundance; now, her shirt hangs loosely around her frame. 

 Fuck. Why in the nine hells haven’t I noticed before?!

He realises he voiced his thoughts when the woman in his arms replies, “Because critical stab wounds take precedence over hunger, Astarion."

"No need to blame anyone,” Zélie says as he unceremoniously throws her on the bed. She fights not to melt into the mattress. “Astarion,” his infuriating lover speaks slower, as if he were a child, “I need to go. We didn’t save this city only to let it implode in chaos. It needs me; Wyll needs me.” 

Jealousy (Unfounded but very much present.) soars in Astarion’s chest. “Well, darling, our selfless Wyll can kindly go fuck himself and find his own lover and stop pestering mine. I’m sure he’ll have plenty of offers now he’s back in line at the next Archduke. Those horns also add a certain ragged flair that many sheltered young nobles will find irresistible.” 

Zélie rolls her eyes so much only her sclera is visible. She makes to stand up, but Astarion holds her by the shoulders with one hand, pointing an accusing finger at her with the other, “Hush, you. Is that how it’ll be for the rest of time? I am tired of seeing you hurt.” That makes her expression twitch with guilt. 

Good.

He glares at her, “Now, you stay here as the good girl I know you can be and I’ll go to the kitchens to see if anything edible is left. Hopefully, it’ll be better than whatever the wizard cooked.” Astarion forces himself to tear away from Zélie’s inviting body (He did miss her all day.), but she catches his wrist before he can step away. 

“What now?!” he snarls. “You’ve driven mad for days with your ‘Respect others’ and ‘We are a group, Astarion!’ and ‘You can’t be that selfish’, and you won’t let me—”

“The sun,” she simply says, defeated. 

Oh.

How quickly Astarion has forgotten his pathetic limitations. On a quest for tavern food, defeated by the light of day. He can’t even venture outside their room. Zélie is the only person he wants to protect and can’t even feed her when she’s fed him countless times before. He snarls loudly, balling his fists, “Fuck!”

“It’s all right,” Zélie pulls him to her, unfazed by his temperamental mood, and he lets himself fall on top of her on the bed, his mortification soothed by her closeness. 

“Tell you what,” she says, breath tickling his face. Astarion holds her cheeks, sharpened by tiredness and hunger, in his hands. He rubs his thumbs over them in small circles, as if he could make them meatier, healthier, by force of will alone. “I will go downstairs, where a Fist captain is waiting for me. I will tell her to ask Wyll if the issue can wait until tomorrow or if Jaheira or Minsc,” she grimaces in worry at the idea, “can take over for the evening. Then, I’ll see if the cook has something prepared. If not, I’ll make do with some cheese and bread.”

Astarion feels a soft dizziness spreading through him. She is talking with that calm and collected voice of hers as if nothing could ever shake or hurt them when she knows what it does to him. He tangles his fingers in her curls, messing them up (An arduous task when they already look like a harpy’s.), before cradling her face into the base of his neck.  

“Then,” his little hero wraps her arms around him, under his shirt and on his scarred back. Astarion is still unused to how careful her hands are on him, like a gentle breeze. She looks at him in search of discomfort, but she finds none. The elf hopes Zélie knows that nothing she does will be the cause of any uneasiness he may show in the future (Even she can’t shield him from all his memories.)  

“I will come back here, to this bed. We’ll eat and rest and when the sun sets, we’ll go to the rooftop to see the stars and enjoy the summer air. How does that sound?” She boops his nose with hers. 

Astarion swallows loudly, “It sounds perfect, love,” he concedes. That’s as close as anyone has ever come to convincing Zélie to drop her duties and rest. Small victories. He is sure he’ll persuade her to live a life of rest and luxury, one day. If everything goes as he desperately hopes.

He is rewarded with a content smile he does not deserve, so he kisses her soundly instead. 

____________________________________________

The night is warm, comforting even. How strange; Astarion can’t remember darkness in Baldur’s Gate ever being so welcoming. A loud munching resonates on his left, and the pale elf has to keep himself from grinning too overtly at his precious woman digging into a simple beef stew as if it were the nectar of the gods. Her cheeks puff out as she takes another mouthful, her usual composure nowhere to be seen in what Astarion hopes is another first. 

(He wishes he could have been her first at everything, just as she was his.)

Midnight strikes. He would have been in some dirty tavern or dingy brothel by now if the mind flayers hadn’t mercifully kidnapped him. He would have been truly dead if the impossible creature next to him hadn’t insisted he was worth saving.

Zélie looks at him as if he performed a miracle, “This, munch, is, chomp, utterly amazing. The best thing I’ve eaten in a long, long while.” 

“Tut, love, I resent that. And here I thought I was special,” he purrs it in offended seduction just to witness his lover’s cheeks and forehead flush in embarrassment. She looks healthier already. 

Good. 

“Oh, you, sassy, snarky…ugh,” Zélie narrows her eyes at him, then immediately composes herself. “Let me specify, the best thing I’ve eaten of any nutritional value in a long, long time.” 

Astarion laughs so loud that a few pigeons fly away in fear. “Touché, love. Well played.”

“Where did you even find this? When I checked the kitchen—”

When she checked the kitchen, the useless cook was not meant to start his shift for another couple of hours, which left her with two slices of bread and a portion of cheese so small even a rat would have ignored it. So Astarion, spurred on by his newly-uncovered protectiveness, waited for his Zélie to be busy with the Fists captain before putting his daggers to good use. It was convenient that the cook had no will to test out the elf’s gutting technique. 

“Oh, darling, I am extremely resourceful. You should know this by now,” he says with a telling smirk. 

“Right. That means I don’t want to know. Though I wouldn’t be against getting more of this,” she points at the bowl of stew in admiration, “from time to time. It reminds me of my grandfather’s cooking.” 

Astarion tenses a bit at the mention of the family she left behind for him; he waits for (No, expects.) Zélie to eventually consider the whole thing as the massive mistake it is and…leave him. Hate him. Become another person he cheated not of her life (At the very least.) but of her future. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, dear?” She asks, head tilted. She can see him even without the tadpoles, and it unsettles him in a good way. 

It feels right, to be known by her. To know her in return. 

He doesn’t want to lie to her now (She’s rubbing her annoying righteousness all over him.), so he opens his arms and she scoots against him, full belly and satisfied gaze. 

Lovely. 

Astarion gently guides them to the mattress he brought up from the bedroom and curls up around Zélie. He could laugh. He despised heroes for so long and here he was, lulling one to sleep. But she was his hero, which makes all the difference; he still doesn’t believe in the natural goodness of others, but he believes in hers, and that’s all he needs. 

And she fits against him, around his jagged edges so perfectly, Astarion would believe she was made for him if he were a religious man. 

“Sleep darling,” he coos into her ear. 

She’s already halfway to the dream realm after, but she’s ever the stubborn woman. “But the sun—”

“I don’t need sleep, love; I’ll move us downstairs when dawn comes. I’ve wasted the day in bed already,” he plants little kisses on her hair, her face, her hands. Worships her as much as he can without waking her up. 

“But that’s the issue…want to…spend time with you,” why must she make it so impossible for him not to fall for her?

Every time the elf is sure he hit the bottom of the devotion he is capable of, she pushes him further down. And she doesn’t try that hard, his pesky love. 

“Hush,” he murmurs, wrapping them in a thick blanket to keep his undead chill at bay. “Rest, idiot. I’m here. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Astarion tightens his grip on her sleeping form. “We’ll take all the time we need, love. I promise.”

[thecameronchronicles]

Savior

TW: abusive relationship. Cheating. Mentions of death/violence/homicide/blood. Language. Smut. 

SUMMARY: Being neighbors with Trevor came with a specific benefit as he always kept a close eye on you...

WORD COUNT: 3500

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Savior

Trevor's POV

How in the fuck did I convince myself to come to this? Her boyfriend's party. But one look at her in a dress he didn't deserve to see let alone peel off reminded me why. Not only for the deafening need to know just how my hands felt beneath the fabric, but also for the way I wanted each and every one of her smiles to be because of me. And for anyone responsible for her tears, may God have mercy on them...

"Trevor!" She welcomed me with an embrace that allowed every inch of her body to be felt in the thin fabric that separated. God, this woman could wear only sweats and a messy bun as she did the first day I saw her and I was still needing to adjust the swell in my seam. 

"Thank you so much for coming!" She gripped tightly into my forearms. For a moment, it seemed as if I had been her reason for gravity. As if my presence soothed her somehow. Certainly an assumption as I was rarely seen as anything more than an inconvenience. And yet ever since she moved in six months ago, she always left me feeling this way. 

Important. Worthy. So fucking needed that it was enough to make you dizzy. And if this devotion wasn't enough, the way she made it a point to make me comfortable had been that tipping point that made her different. That made any girl comparable to her and yet none would hold a candle. All because one of those simple looks set me on fire that paled to even the most skilled of women I attempted to use to forget her. 

That was my plague. She was unforgettable. And I was the poor son of a bitch in love with someone else's girlfriend...

"Yeah, man, thanks for coming." It took everything I had not to curl a lip or even my hands to a fist. This possessive and arrogant asshole has a goddess at his fingers and yet his eyes scanned every feminine soul in attendance as if she was nothing. And she noticed. 

The light that fought to remain behind her eyes remained at war against his presence. Never a kind word that didn't leave her embarrassed in the end. Details of their sex life enough to speak well of her as everything else was an apparent service that made him a victim or a martyr. And why she allowed it continued to astound me. Surely she knew she deserved better. Literally anyone. Wishful thinking made me hope it could one day have been me. 

"Keep an eye on her would you? Gotta go do some rounds-" He abandoned her when he should have wished to show her off. It was enough to be thankful of his absence but regretful it brought her such pain. 

"Can I show you something?" I asked as she illuminated to the offer. 

The second we made our way outside to the balcony, she seemed to take a clear reprieve. I loved that it was possible in my presence. But I loathed knowing she would have to return to him eventually. But not now. And that's what mattered. It wasn't now. 

"I always loved the stars...he always complains it's too cold to see them..." She placed her fingers on the edge of the railing and trusted it to lean forward. My eyes drifted down her curves and to her neck. A chosen hairstyle leaving her neck accessible to view. Soft skin accented by a beauty mark in perfect placement. A true work of art I was able to adore without needing to share. 

Yet I remained as a friend as it's what she always needed. Everytime she was on the curb outside the complex in tears. Anytime she was left without a car and asked me for a ride. Each time keeping myself in check while burning for her. Just one signal that told me she wanted this and I would gladly risk his wrath for even a moment of that attention. A moment of bliss for a lifetime of hell. 

"You deserve to see them..." She only shrugged. 

"I saw this hotel...I can't remember where it is, but there are these igloos with glass ceilings you can spend the night in...and you can just stare at the stars all night. I'd sleep outside of I could..." The careless way she spoke with such raw honesty of her dreams made me want to make them real for her. No matter how stupid or impossible. But this one made me envision her wrapped in my arms, sheets draped over us just enough to be warm-

"Trevor?" 

"Yeah?"

"It means a lot that you came. You're the only one who I actually like being around here...so thank you..." She confessed, my hand moving closer to hers as my pinky judged hers just enough to gain her attention. 

"I wish it was only us..." This was the sign I needed. This was the step forward she needed to take so I knew. And I didn't care about the consequences. 

I used a hold on her wrist to pull her towards me. A gentle collision anything but humorous as I use the same ledge she trusted to set her against. Instantly, her hand came to a rest at my cheek in the reminder of how delicate she was. And yet, her tongue was the one to tease mine. 

"Trevor..." She breathed softly, a hand to my chest as she fisted to fabric. 

"I can take care of you..."

"It isn't that simple..." She confessed as I nodded. 

"Then let me help you not think..." I directed her hips harder into me, making my intentions clear before softening them. My pulse at war with her own, my cock desperate for even a small trace of her fingers, and my lips needing more. Needing all of her. 

She tried to speak, but her body betrayed her as mine orchestrated us both. My fingers held a mind of their own, remaining cautious to not frighten her with how badly I desired her, but also speaking where words couldn't describe. Every kiss telling her I wanted her. Every touch or grasp informing her I'd protect her. But she remained distant from me. 

"I want to make you feel good...I swear to God I won't stop until you do. I want to make you-" She nodded, her fingers toying with my belt as my thumbs teased the low rest of her skirt. 

He was so fucking lucky and took her for granted. She would have been unable to walk if she wore that skirt for me. But then again, I wouldn't have wanted a party. I would have been content unwrapping her in repetition. 

"Baby?" His voice echoed as she pushed me away, guilt riding over her face. 

"Please don't say anything...I'm..I'm sorry Trevor..." In six months, I managed to learn of her emotions. But this had to be a first of terror. 

After this exchange, knowing her body in my palms and the desperation her own made against my chest, I couldn't watch him use her as a trophy. Squeezing her ass when he wasn't reprimanding it. So I slipped out just prior to the cake, her eyes beckoning me to stay as even those pleading eyes wouldn't be enough. 

Returning to my apartment has never been this difficult. I struggled to enter as I turned back to face her door. Separated by only a walk, I was able to hear remnants of the party until it died down enough to hear only them. Her cadence softer but still muffled and his sloppy and intimidating to her. It was rage inducing as I paced my bedroom floor, needing her now more than ever. 

But she wasn't mine. It was simple. She chose him. Every night. Tonight. On the balcony. And it was enough to keep my ass in place. 

At least until two in the morning. 

The first rousing sound was that of broken glass and his raised tone. I slipped from my sheets and towards the wall, hearing her plead with him. It lasted a handful of times until the slamming of doors could be heard and an eventual sob. It was this sound of her sadness that sent me to their door before I could stop myself. 

Not your problem. Not your-

"Dumb fucking bitch!" 

Now it is. 

My anger came behind my fist as I pounded on the door. But as it came open, she only showed me half of her. The entire left side of her body was hidden behind the heavy door as I could see the disarray that remained. The strap loose down her shoulder and her hair clearly gripped after the perfect waves I had embraced a few hours prior. 

"Trevor..."

"Get rid of him..." He groaned behind her. 

"Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine..." Even a half mute, blind, or fully drunk man could tell she was lying. If the way she shook didn't show this, then the silent plea in her eyes had. 

"I left my phone...can I come get it?" 

"Can I...just have...I'll give it tomorrow-"

But as she tried to diffuse my presence and the tension it brought, he opened the door wide enough to observe her. Whatever works he spoke to me were moit behind the evidence over her. A busted lip. A bruised cheek. Tears escaping as she pleaded for me not to act. I had suspicions he was a dick. But I would ensure he'd never touch her again. 

"Get it through your head man, she isn't gonna fuck you, no matter how pathetic you are-'" Were his final words as I clasped his collar. He was quick to respond with a lower cut to my ribs, an unsuspecting blow that gave him only a temporary upper hand. 

"Trying to fight for her? She isn't fucking worth it! Trust me!" 

"Stop!" She pleaded, trying to get between us as he only pushed her away. 

"Go to my apartment..." I attempted to direct her but she remained as I was swung at. A last minute maneuver and his hand was smashed into the stone wall separating our living rooms. 

"Fuck!" 

"You're nothing but a low life asshole obsessed with her!"

"You don't ever touch her again!"

"Wrong. I do every night. Quite well. You MUST have heard her screaming for me...Knowing you'll never have her!" I ran to him as a bull to a crimson flag, sending him into the edge of his own sink. A set of elbows to my back made me release him before I rose like a man literally fighting for his life. Punch after punch until he was straddled flat. Nose broken enough to bleed profusely and two teeth loosened enough to spot out as evidence of my imminent victory. 

"Are you okay?" I asked her as I left him on the floor. My hands to her cheeks were accepted by her fingers wrapping around my wrists. But as I helped her in place, my forehead at hers with a silent confirmation, she opened her eyes in a split second to find him lunging after me. 

"Trevor!" The blade if a knife would nick my forearm before it was directed back within his abdomen. A pure reaction to a fight or flight response as everything chilled. 

I wasn't a man who often made the "right" decision. My methods were questionable and I was anything but honest in the means of...well most things. But I protected her. And it was enough to silence the guilt that she developed secondhand. 

"Trevor..." My name has never sounded so sour on her lips. But I understood. 

"You both...are...gonna be...sorry..." He shot blood rapidly. Whatever was struck by the blade was enough to be fatal as he became an immobile and flaxen in less than a minute. His back ceasing to rise in even the most shallow of breaths. 

He was dead. 

I killed him. 

For her. 

"What did you do?" Her eyes were wide. 

"He isn't going to hurt you anymore..." I took hold of her wrist and led her to my apartment. My mind was wild with a list of what to do. But as I thought of calling the police or cleaning up the scene, I watched her on the couch where I left her. Cleaning the blood from my hands in the kitchen sink, I moved to her. 

"I'm not going to apologize about what happened , but I am sorry you had to see it." I ran my thumb against her lip. "He deserved it..." she stood for a moment, my words rejected and my kindness left behind her steps. But as she moved to the door, she turned back to face me. 

"Do you have any idea what you've done? Who he is?! That's Roland Voight's son. Elusive millionaire...macabre and dark...questionable-"

"Guess the rotten apple doesn't fall far from the tree..." 

"You killed his son!" I moved closer to her. 

"And I'd do it again." I spoke with the attempt to be confident, but my words shook. Not in the fact it was untrue, but for the fact I hadn't understood the reality until she spoke the words back to me. But I meant it. If presented with the same circumstances, I would have done the same. 

"You...you killed him...you...you-" She was tripping over her words as I began to hollow. Not that I expected gratitude, but at least not hatred. I could have her disgusted with me even more than this. But then suddenly she was against him, knocking me off of my feet with her arms around my neck. 

"You freed me..." A weak smile broke our kids as I lifted her back towards the couch. This beautiful, battered, woman was mine. And I wasn't going to question it. Whether it as adrenaline or some kink, I didn't care. As far as I was concerned, she was mine and I was hers. 

"I'm not going to let anyone hurt you..." 

"I know..." She smiled softly as she writhed against me. A dance of sorts allowed to my torso as she pulled my blood soaked shirt from my body. As it bled to my skin, she traced it for only a second before I brought her focus back to me. 

"I know I should feel guilty, but I can't...I've wanted this for so long, Trevor." I couldn't believe what she said. Like a seventh wonder presenting itself for me. Only me. And I was a greedy man. Especially when it came to her. Only her. 

"So have I..." 

"Please..." Her hand came to my pants as I stopped her hand, her plea coming from this rejection. When I remained in disbelief to her, she took it upon herself to bend over the arm of the couch. Her body presented to me in the most carnal of ways. Her panties peeking from beneath her shorts and a bra strap having fallen to her elbow. But this wasn't a one night stand. This wasn't a quick fuck to forget about her. I wanted her. I needed her. I wasn't going to rush this. 

"I want to know..." She confessed looking back at me. 

"Know what?" 

"What it's like not having to fake it..." She moved back towards me, slipping out of her clothes until only her lingerie remained, as I was at a loss to do anything but witness her. She was even more perfect than I imagined. Her curves. Her soft skin. Her. 

Fuck. 

"I thought of you. Everytime he touched me. Kissed me. I wanted it to be you-"

"Jesus Christ, you're gonna kill me..." I spoke against her neck. She hasn't been on her knees for me or touched my cock and yet it throbbed like never before. 

"Please Trevor...I can take it. However you want me...I can-"

"I want to make love to you, not fuck you..." She tensed to my words, as if they were worse than the painful ones she'd sadly become accustomed to. 

"I..."

"We don't have to..." 

"I want you..." Her arm cranes around my neck. "I've always wanted you."

"Then we're doing it my way..." My dominance was only to remind her of what she deserved. And for that, I moved into my knees for her. Her legs over my shoulders as I devoured what he always took advantage of. And fuck, she was sweet. So wet. So fucking sweet. And all fucking mine. 

Her back arched in seconds as her hands gripped for a reprieve she would never have. I didn't mean to edge her yet I wanted it to last. So I slowed. The most delicious of moans coming from such swollen lips. 

"You deserve to feel only pleasure...and I'm going to show you how to..." I set her fingers between her legs. 

"No...I want you..." 

"And I need to be patient because I won't last if-"

"I don't want you to...please Trevor..." 

"Not yet, baby...you're gonna be adored first..." I pulled her around me and into the bedroom. She deserved a bed. She deserved the comfort and space I'm sure he didn't allow her. Swift ducks to make himself come. But to know I was the only one to make her, genuinely, it was a high better than any woman on her knees for me. Maybe even her. 

"I can't wait...please Trevor..." She pleaded again as I'd stretched her for me. My fingers coated in her from tip to knuckle, learning her body exclusively for me. Every shudder, mine. Every moan, mine. Every whimper belonged to-

"Trevor!" She gasped as I used my cock through her lower lips. 

"Please..." She mewled, the desperations sweater with every utterance. 

"I can't wait." She nodded, her body welcoming me stronger than I expected. Her inner walls a vice around my shaft. Fuck I could  have come immediately. Everything was too much. But she deserved to be thoroughly blissed. I pinned her hands flat on either side of her head and controlled the thrusts as she continued to beg me. 

I never wanted her to beg. It was beneath her. But damn, she made it sound so sweet. 

"Harder..."

"Not yet, baby." 

"Ugh!" Her back arched as I began to increase my speed. Sweat mixed in abundance to tell whose belonged to who. It stained the sheet all the same. 

"Please make me come, Trevor...I can feel it..."

"You don't have to ask...I will, baby. I just want you to feel all of me..." I thrusted again. Shit, she was so fucking good. Too fucking good. The way she dug her nails into me. The way she breathed in my ear. Every goddamn detail. 

"I do! You're so deep, baby-" A moan escaped my lips. I would be anything to her, gladly. But any possession made me an immediate switch. A submissive to her desires. 

"Fuck..." I strained over her as she nodded. 

"Yes, Trevor! You're gonna make me come!" Her nails clawed into my back.

"Harder." I teased the words she offered earlier as she obliged. We both wore the wounds of the night in both pleasure and pain. Red lines of nails on my back as they were left on her hips. Bruises from him were kissed and quelled by me as she showed me her appreciation of my valor. 

"Baby, tell me where to come..." 

"Inside-"

"But I didn't put on-"

"Inside-" her nails were sharp into my ass. God, I'd sold my soul to her. 

"Fuck...." I inhaled with a groan as she nodded. 

"Yes! Fuck! Ah!"

"Is it too hard baby?" I asked as she only shook her head, biting her lips closed to not belt. My hand came to her lips as she took them between her teeth, biting softly onto the pad as I kissed into her neck. 

The edge too close. Her body still too far. 

"I love you-" the words left my lips as I came to regret them already. 

"I...I didn't mean..."

"I love you too, Trevor..." She confessed breathlessly. Those words more of an aphrodisiac than any other moment. My body submitting to her as if I'd never known pleasure before. My body in tremors that she accompanied, until I was left at a rest against her chest. 

"I meant it..." I confessed. 

"Good." She smirked. "I did too." She kissed me softly. 

This was how it should always have been. Us. And I would face any charge, any man, even any hell to keep her. 

Little did I know, I was about to...

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916

MASTERLIST

TREVOR MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

[kayesfanfics]

Hi! I'd like to ask for Isaac general dating headcanons!

(You can add something 18+ if you want)

Warnings: NSFW under the cut, including light BDSM/bondage

Isaac is a very stoic and self disciplined man, he tries not to get attached to people in fear they may harm him. But with you, it was different. Your eyes didn’t hold any malice or deceit, they were warm and inviting, and a sweet smile often adorned your face. You were quite literally the complete opposite of him, you even trusted people a little too easily, and he wanted to be the one to protect you from them when they (in his mind) inevitably betrayed that trust

He may seem cold and blunt with you to other people, but you know that’s just how he is. He doesn’t get very mushy or lovey dovey, that’s just not his vibe at all. He likes to keep things relaxed and casual as he speaks to you, but he can actually be quite romantic. His smooth voice has a way of wooing you over and over again, telling you stories of his travels and the different cultures he’s come across. How he found forgemastery as a way to harness his emotions into magic to bring dead things back to life

He is extremely loyal to you, devotes all his time to you when he’s not planning a war for Master Dracula. You read or study by candlelight in his workspace, while he’s doing his work at the table. He’ll take breaks to come hug you from behind, which is rare for him to do since he’s not exactly very physically affectionate or touchy with anyone. But he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder and read over it, following your finger that’s keeping your place for you, and when you bend the corner of the page and put your book down, you turn to kiss him on the cheek. He allows it, knowing you won’t go farther than that since he’s expressed his physical boundaries to you before. He’s okay with kisses on the cheek, holding hands, that’s as intimate as it gets for awhile into the relationship since it’s very much new to him

He wants to know every corner of your mind. What you find interesting, what disgusts you, what scares you, what bores you. He wants to know your thoughts about everything, your opinions on what he does, on the war, he wants to know what humanity has done to you to bring you here to Dracula’s Castle. He’ll open up to you slowly as you open up to him, building a mutual trust with each other

ASKS HECTOR FOR ADVICE BUT HECTOR DOESNT KNOW EITHER MAN, HE ISOLATED HIMSELF IN RHODES HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO TALK TO ANOTHER HUMAN BEING LET ALONE FLIRT

So Isaac goes to Dracula, as his friend, and carefully asks how he knew he was in love with Lisa. Dracula doesn’t get angry with her name being mentioned, instead smiling softly and happy to talk about it with Isaac. He tells Isaac how her intellect and boldness first attracted him, how she was unafraid of the vampire kings reputation and demanded he teach her his knowledge about the medical world. Once Dracula fell out of his daydream about his wife, he raised an eyebrow and looked at Isaac, asking why he wanted to know. Isaac just stammering for the first time and being all “I just…I wanted to know, is all. Thank you for telling me, master.” before he bows slightly and rushes out to avoid further questions

He worries he’s not worthy of your love, that you should find someone better than him. His mind is broken, his body scarred from years of torment. Even with his night creatures, he feels he won’t be able to protect you in this world. He doesn’t see himself as someone able to love, he doesn’t know why you return his affections sometimes. But you’re always there to remind him that you love him, listing the reasons why as you kiss his cheeks, before he finally leans in to your touch and presses his lips to yours. Your first kiss is soft and gentle, full of love and trust as his hands find their way to your waist, your own arms wrapping around his shoulders

After the first kiss, there will be plenty more. Not in front of other ever, he’s a private person and wants to remain professional in front of the other members of Dracula’s Court. But in private, he allows your hands to wander, massaging his aching shoulders but avoiding his back, scattered in fresh self-inflicted wounds. You wished he didn’t do that to himself and he didn’t do it as often now that he had you, but there were times he’d break and flog himself

NSFW Under the Cut

He loves it when you’re both naked in bed, not even having sex, just touching each other and holding each other. The comfort and warmth your body brings him relaxes and calms him down, a soft smile adorning his normally stone-cold face

Prefers to top, he can’t either be soft or even indulge in a little BDSM, but nothing that would genuinely hurt you or leave a mark, he’d never forgive himself if he hurt you even if you told him it was alright. He’s just not comfortable with impact play aside from slapping your ass or thighs, maybe your chest if that’s something you’re into. He can be mean and fuck you harshly into the mattress, pinching your nipples and telling you not to cum until he gives you permission. His punishments would be orgasm denial for sure, maybe even tying your hands up so you can’t touch yourself and get off that way. His stone-cold face will return as you beg and cry for him, but he has amazing self control and won’t give into your pleads until he hears what he wants to hear from you

Will sometimes even let you tie his hands up instead while you ride him. He wants to feel and experience what you do when he does this to you, bouncing on him slowly to deny him that release. He won’t moan or whimper, he more makes low grunts and groans during sex, clenching his jaw and shutting his eyes tightly as he focuses on your every touch

But when you’re making love, he is gentle and caring and puts love into it. His lips almost never leaves yours as he slowly pumps himself into you, allowing you to feel every inch of him inside of you. Your hands avoid his back, instead grabbing his shoulders or biceps as you kiss him hungrily, wanting nothing but to feel more and more of him

[faerunianmiitra]

I fucking love Gale but honestly? Mystra gave him everything, made him his Chosen, showed him things mortal people wouldn’t dare to see and he decides to “prove his love” by releasing magic that literally killed her last avatar in the past, and took her YEARS to restore the weave. This is literally the opposite direction of anyone devoted to Mystra, and he didn’t even realize what he did? He was like oh I’m sorry love I’ve released this ever hungry power that killed you last time it was just because I love you and…. Dude, you were an archmage of Mystra, how did you not realize that? Even at the beginning, how do you speak of Karsus with such admiration, the guy who tried to become a god by destroying what you love most (magic/the weave)? He put that orb in himself by messing what he shouldn’t have, and STILL she kept feeding the orb during that whole time with her own magic while he was depressed in the tower and fighting with the tadpole. She could have him killed if she wanted to, at any moment, and she still thought he was worthy of her magic and eventually trusts him to return the crown.

Also, at some point of dnd lore Mystra get so done with all these shenanigans of people wanting power, betraying her, etc, she pretty much GIVE UP her godhood.

If I was Mystra and my genius boyfriend decided to prove his love for me by dumbly releasing the magic that killed me I would feel absolutely betrayed and demand him to kill himself too lmao and just like her I would also still protect him from afar because despite his fuckery I would know he did it out of ignorance and hope he would prove himself worthy of my trust again.

[riddle-me-ri]

I know Arkhamverse has trauma from being strangled, but I always want to kiss EVERY SINGLE RIDDLER on his neck! And that got me thinking... So I have to ask, how do the Riddlers feel about their necks? Like are any of them sensitive? Ticklish? Are any against their neck being touched? Do any love when their s/o goes for their neck?

A/N: okay but anon…how…how did you know I'm an absolute sucker for neck kisses?? Both giving and receiving?? Decided to go more headcanons this route, hope that's all right anon!

Neck Kisses with the Riddlers

Arkhamverse Riddler:

- Okay but out of most of these Riddlers, Arkham Eddie is by far the most sensitive with his neck.

- You’ve seen how Batman literally drags and manhandles him by the throat every chance he gets. 

- The minute you even reach out to cup his face, this poor man flinches on instinct.

- I know you love neck kisses, but don’t expect to be able to give this Eddie any…for a long, long, while. 

- For you to touch him, let alone kiss him, in such a vulnerable, previously abused countless times location. He has to trust you. 

- And Ed doesn’t trust just anyone, however once you get him to trust you…

- He adores it when you give him kisses. Lips, face, head, neck…it feels like devotion. He gets to finally put his guard down and let himself be adored, rightfully so, by you. 

Reevesverse/Dano Riddler:

- This Riddler…is sensitive. I don’t doubt he’s fairly ticklish.

- The minute you two shared your first kiss, he’s become obsessed with your lips on him. It doesn’t matter where. 

- I don’t doubt he’ll chuckle a couple times at the strange but ultimately pleasing sensation. It takes some getting used to for sure.

- When he does get used to your neck kisses though, he’s instant puddy in your hands. 

- His knees get wobbly, legs shaky, feels weightless. Trying to catch himself on a chair or sofa, but doesn’t want you to stop. 

- Please, don’t stop for anything…except for maybe kisses on the lips. 

Gotham Riddler:

- When the two of you get heated in a passionate make out session, Ed practically expects them. 

- He loves the way it makes him feel. 

- Admired, treasured. 

- The way they warm up his body. The way they alleviate whatever headache or migraine that’s troubling him at the moment. 

- Then again, most of your kisses do that for him. 

- It is a moment of vulnerability with him though, please respect that and don’t take advantage of it. 

BTAS Riddler:

- Edward is for certain that your kisses are the best reward, the best prizes in this world. Even greater than money or cars. 

- To say he becomes an addict is an understatement. 

- He loves it when you reciprocate his trail of kisses he leaves on you, earlier that day. 

- The way your soft lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck. 

- It warms the skin there, causes small goosebumps to form there. 

- You adore the way he warmly chuckles at them and leans his head and shrugs his shoulder, an attempt to bring you closer and keep you there at his neck. 

- Edward will be sure to return the favor tenfold. 

Zero Year/Capullo Riddler:

- This asshole expects them from you. 

- Like, what’re you doing? 

- You should be worshipping his body with kisses, ugh, you have an opportunity that so many dream of and you’re just gonna let it fly by?

- Obviously, once you power through the urge to slap the shit out of him (or just slap him, that’s fine too…probably will turn him on so good luck with that)

- He won’t admit it, like a bunch of other things, but he’s an absolute sucker for your neck kisses. 

- Ed likes how it does make him feel worshipped, someone worthy of attention and affection. 

Twojar Riddler:

- Oh ho ho this possessive buff leprechaun prick. 

- He absolutely thrives on neck kisses, much like how the other Riddlers do. 

- It’s a very intimate gesture of vulnerability, passion, and devotion. 

- Edward wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

- He also eggs you on to go ahead and leave a couple of love bite while you’re at it. 

- It turns him on to see you act as possessively over him as he does over you. 

Gotham City Sirens Riddler:

- Edward can’t imagine a more pleasant way to end the work day. 

- Wrapped up in your embrace, kissing and groping like some lovesick fools. 

- The minute your lips hit the side of his neck, pecking up and down it. 

- The P.I. is a goner. 

- Whatever is left plaguing his mind from work, is completely forgotten. 

- He cradles the back of your head to keep your lips there, only letting up for you to kiss the other side of his neck (or kiss him, properly on his lips). 

- He’s sure to return the favor soon enough. 

Young Justice Riddler:

- Hnng this weak lad can’t even handle hand kisses rip

- PDA or…any sort of A in general…is new territory for this Eddie. 

- Kinda like Dano Riddler, I imagine he’s stupid ticklish. 

- Your lips barely brush along his neck and he’s in a giggly fit. 

- But it’s cute, so that’s fine. You go in for the kill regardless. 

- His whole face lights up red, warming up to the nth degree. Instantly becomes addicted to them though. 

- This Eddie just enjoys the fact that there’s someone that genuinely thinks he’s that attractive to warrant neck kisses. 

Telltale Riddler:

- Okay, first off, ew, how dare you?

- You really think he was just going to let you that close? 

- I mean, sure he likes the attention, he likes you…but you’re gonna have to earn the privilege to kiss his neck. 

- Yeah, I don’t know what you see in the Puzzle Grandpa either whoop.

- However, whenever you earn the right to kiss his neck, he’s got a dumb egotistical smirk on his face. 

- He…appreciates the gesture. 

Hush (DCAU) Riddler: 

- This man is absolutely weak for you. 

- When you smile at him, he feels like he’s been blessed. 

- To have you love him, excessively, and kiss every inch of his body. 

- Oh, well, he can’t get enough. 

- Especially your neck kisses. 

- The way you go from nuzzling his sideburns to kissing along his jaw, from his jaw you go lower to his neck. 

- He’s a warm buzzing mess, but don’t let him stop you. He loves this way too much.

[crabsgate]

so i'm working on a longshot set in act 3, but a whole section of it is getting scrapped because the fic branched off in a way that it doesn't quite fit anymore. However, I really enjoy what i've written and I want to share it so ! under the cut is the bit i've deleted

I'm hoping that maybe I can work it into another fic, but I'm not entirely sure it'll go somewhere else. For now enjoy what i do have <3 It's unedited btw

"Really?" Astarion says, his hand curling around Gale's jaw like a claim. His fingers were cold where they brushed over his beard and onto his cheek. "You'd devote yourself to me, just as I am?"

"Of course," Gale murmurs, unable to look away from those red eyes, softer than he's ever seen them before. He wants to worship him, drown him in the endless fount of devotion that he's been bottling up since the night of the Tiefling party. 

Devotion and love have always gone hand in hand with him. He knows no other way than to give himself wholly to the other. What better proof of his commitment than to worship at his feet? How else can he be worthy of love in return?

"You'd forget your goddess," Astarion breathes, inching ever closer, until they're but a breath apart. "For me?" 

"I would," Gale responds, a rough sound pulled from his throat, gone before he could hold it back. 

Astarion's touch was intoxicating, and the little distance between them maddening. Anticipation curled around him like a dragon hoarding gold, eager and wanting, hungry for whatever Astarion decides to give him. Anything. Everything. Nothing. 

"How the hells could she have ever thrown you away?" Astarion muses, his eyes trailing over the whole of Gale's face. "No matter. She has no claim to you anymore."

Gale doesn't trust himself to speak, nodding instead. His throat is dry, body angling towards the elf like there's a magnetic pull bringing them together. There's an ache in his chest—not the orb, no, but something limitless in its intensity. 

Astarion pulls him close until their lips brush. It's hardly a kiss, the touch ghosting against his lips in a maddening tease. Still, he keeps his hands to himself as if touching Astarion would break the moment.  

"Gods," the elf murmurs, and Gale can feel the movement of his lips. Astarion sounds drunk, his tone breathless and the word slurred. "You are…"

"I am…?" Gale asks, steadier than he feels. The orb is angry in his chest, purple light glowing between them, but it's nothing compared to the hammer that is his heart, fast and unstoppable. 

"Dangerous," Astarion purrs. "You make an elf like me think things, darling."

[merbear25]

number 10 for the follower event with crocodile - san x m!reader? i love your work 🥹🥹

Hey, hey! Thank you for sending in this request and the kind words! I really hope you like what I've written. 💜💜

An offer you couldn't refuse

CW: SFW, m!reader, working for Crocodile

Having to cut his underlings could get rather messy. None of them were able to maintain their duties, which lead to them being led to the chopping block. Such incompetence weighed on him, drilling the pounding of frustration into his core. Wanting to start anew, he could only trust himself and Mr. 1 to find those suitable to help rebuild a name for himself.

Word got around of a rookie with a bounty on a steep incline. Rumors of emerging potential would be kept as such until he had a chance to observe you, witnessing your gossiped skills for himself.

After so many were failing to meet his standards, watching you reignited that flame within him: lethal intentions masked by a sense of poise and professionalism. You were a young man, yet carried yourself with confidence many wouldn't gain until much later in life―one who seemed to be the perfect one to break this dry spell.

Approaching you carefully at the local tavern, he dropped subtle hints that he was looking for some spots to fill. You recognized him immediately. How could anyone not realize they were talking to Crocodile? Despite the thrill of a man with such a dastardly reputation engaging in conversation with a rookie like you, your nerves were kept under wraps.

Upon first meeting you, his hunches on your abilities were proven to be accurate; the self-confidence you held was far from a ploy to get people talking. You, by all accounts, appeared more than capable of aiding him in his duties. After all, such talent shouldn't go to waste.

When he offered you the opportunity to work under him, you took him up on it without a second thought. You weren't necessarily interested in the power that'd come with working under him; he offered chances that you wouldn't have access to otherwise, ways of working your way up to a better life.

Considering what made you want to jump at his offer, it dawned on you that he was a man who you speculated to have had a rough upbringing. He was someone you aspired to be like, someone who not only had the power to do as he pleased but also held the wisdom to wield it properly.

Thinking the best way to have you become accustomed to his methods was to spend more one on one time together, you two discovered that you held a lot of the same views on the world. Despite that nagging voice in his ear trying to convince him that you were not a person he could trust, the foundations of your relationship were set in motion.

Even if you were a tad star struck, you still managed to keep a level head. Your perception tuned into how your soon to be boss was harboring some trust issues―issues you'd have to fight against in a seemingly endless uphill battle.

Having taken the time to gain better insight into the mechanics of his mind, you were tactful on how you'd earn his grace. Instead of pushing him to accept you, you continued showing him you were worthy to stand by his side.

As time passed and your support withstood the countless tests, your unwavering devotion spoke volumes. One day after returning from a mission, he confronted you asking with a smirk, "Are you sure about this?" His suspicions of you had long since been laid to rest, now with only faint undertones of the excitement to come.

When you responded with whole-hearted dedication, he gave you a satisfied smile. Nodding in approval at your willingness to follow him into the danger you'd surely find yourselves in, he saw you as someone full of potential, someone he could help flourish into something spectacular.

Placing a firm hand on your shoulder, he told you, "There is much more waiting for us."

[vertebrates-and-pieces]

What do you think would be the thing that would win Morgott over? How long would it take for the omen king to soften up and realize that his little Tarnished holds a genuine love fondness for him?

Oh man, Morgott is incredibly stubborn and set in his ways. He would take quite some time to thaw. It would absolutely be worth it though because his love, once finally shared, would be nigh unbreakable.

As for the how, I could see it happening in two main ways depending on the disposition of the Tarnished in question.

…

The slowest, but surest, way to win him over would be through endurance. If one is willing to persist, be patient, and take things at Morgott's own pace, slowly peel away his doubts layer by layer, stick by him even when he lashes out, even when he flinches at simple affection, even when he refuses to believe… As I said before, Morgott is a stubborn man. He does not view himself as worthy of love. But if there is one thing he deeply understands, it's endurance. All his life, he has endured, he has given. If one is willing to endure him, endure for him, then how can he possibly deny that he is cared for? And moreover, how can he deny that he cares as well? It need not be perfect, nothing ever is. Sometimes to endure is to fight, to let go, to hurt, to struggle, but ultimately to improve and return. And they always come back, and so does he, until eventually they both hold fast and refuse to part.

I think the moment when this fully clicks for him would be something small and thoughtless. Perhaps he would be reading, his loyal Tarnished at his side, reading from the same page. The two of them are so in sync that Morgott knows when to turn the page through a simple glance. Yet, when Morgott glances at them this time, they are no longer looking at the text, but at him. They are smiling at him with such adoration, and oh how he adores them as well. They lean against him and all at once he realizes that in that moment he did not question their affections, nor think anything of returning them in kind. It feels natural, just as natural as his devotion to the Erdtree itself, but warm, full. He is both wanting and fulfilled simultaneously. It is almost frightening how easy it feels to reach out and touch them, to let them press those smiling lips against his hand.

"My dearest Tarnished," he says, allowing his thoughts to slip free, heedless of all else, "Oh how I love thee."

…

Yet, I could also see him coming around more quickly and recklessly. It would still be quite the process, mind you. Morgott isn't the sort to be easily swayed. It would take some time and a great deal of blood, sweat, and tears to gain his trust. However, once the seeds of affection have been planted, they might grow roots more quickly than expected under certain conditions. Paradoxically, the substrate of choice here is hardship. What better way to prove one's character and devotion than through powering through a challenge boldly and selflessly?

Say, for example, this Tarnished, already proven to be an ally, were to accidentally learn of Morgott's true identity, that the King and the Fell Omen were one and the same. Then, this Tarnished not only kept this knowledge secret, but even put their own wellbeing on the line to keep it guarded. They did not care that he was an omen, nor that he had hidden his true nature from them. They would risk their life for him as Margit or as Morgott. Their loyalty was beyond that of an ally or that of a subject. They cared for him and they would prove time and time again through both words and actions.

After one particularly brash display of their loyalty, one in which he feared he might lose them, he cannot help but concede. He grabs onto them and scolds them viciously. He's angry, furious even, but moved in equal measure. He knows in this moment that he could not bear to lose them, that he has become as recklessly fond of them as they were of him. It's terrifying, raw, and catches him entirely off guard, and he's crying now, and so are they. He is overwhelmed by the desire to kiss them, but he holds back, for he is not fully sure how to, or if it would be wrong. Nonetheless, his hold becomes an embrace, and the words on his tongue taste more of honey than venom. He must clench his teeth lest they escape, lest he too acts rashly.

And yet, if this Tarnished, his Tarnished, were to read the yearning in his face, the tense set of his jaw, if they were to understand what it was he wanted and act, he would be wholly unable to resist. Morgott is a private man, preferring to keep his feelings and inner life away from prying eyes, but if they told him they loved him right then, open and vulnerable as they were, he would tell them that he felt the same, he would kiss them, awkward and inexperienced as he was, without care of where they were or who may be watching.

[ineffectualdemon]

Thank you for answering my ask, (from the anon that ask before).....If you don't mind me asking again, my other ask is about Scum Villain....Who are your top 3 or top 5 fav characters from that fandom and why do you love them? What are your top 5 or top 7 fav moments from the series? Feel free if you want to pick either or answer all the questions....Thanks if you want to answer....

I love these asks! It's like being invited to info dump and it's so much fun!

Warning this is long:

Okay top 5 SVSSS characters are easy peasy

5. Liu Qingge: man he just doesn't catch a break. He's this jock meathead type guy on the surface who is rough around the edges but he's so caring once Shen Qingqiu earned his trust. Also the yearning! The pining! The fact that this guy who he shows devotion after devotion to just chooses someone who has, by all appearances, just abused him again and again is heartbreaking. And even post canon when he has been unwittingly but irrevocably rejected he still does the same acts of devotion.

The man needs a drink and to get laid.

And homoerotic fistfights with Binghe

4. Mobei Jun: this is on his own. Paired with Shang Qinghua it's different. Mobei Jun actually shares a lot of qualities with Liu Qingge. They are both rough stoic men who constantly do acts of devotion and love towards their loved on and those acts are always misinterpreted and they face constant rejection.

The difference is Shang Qinghua is not aware of Mobei Jun's intentions and does not realise those are acts of devotion. And if he did realise he would be thrilled. The problem is cultural differences not emotional constipation

Also Mobei Jun has been pining and yearning for decades and that's amazing

I also like what he tells us about Airplane. Because he's Airplane's ideal man both in what he is attracted to and what he longs to be, but that "what he wants to be" is based on how Airplane reads him. And Airplane reads him as stoic and cold and cool (metaphorically) and untouched and unbothered by anything. Which tells us that that's what Airplane wishes he was, but Mobei Jun is in reality someone desperate to hold on and be held in return. He's lonely and devoted and loyal and unwaveringly honest.

Which is maybe telling of how maybe secretly Airplane wants to reach out and be honest about his feelings and ask for what he wants.

3. Luo Binghe: god there is so much to say. He is a dark reflection of Airplane. He is so parched for love and affection and that he latches on to Shen Qingqiu and cannot let go but he can never feel worthy enough. Never feel like he deserves happiness because time and again it's ripped from his hands.

No one will choose him

He is all alone

Even when he has everything he has every wanted he can't believe it. Because surely this will be ripped away too and he will be left hurt and alone again

He is every dark thought Airplane had alone in his room writing 10,000 words a day to keep his head above water in a dingy room knowing he's unwanted by either of his parents

And man if that doesn't cut deep into me as the unwanted child growing up

That feeling of believing no one will choose you ever and you will never be really loved and then making the one person who does the centre of your world but constantly afraid they will change their mind?

Yeah.

I can identify with that

it's gotten better over the years but uh yeah. The insecurity is still there

2. Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan: the tragic comedy of his internalised queerphobia while attracting a harem of men. The unawareness of self, the disassociating, the mental gymnastics he goes through to no homo himself

He's a fascinating unreliable narrator and also his internal screaming is really funny and relatable. I don't have the System but I do have disassociative identify disorder and we definitely get in internal screaming matches sometimes because some of us are dicks. So that kind of internal fighting is very familiar and even funnier to me

I also find it interesting that canonically when he transmigrates pretty much the only overt trauma in his life up that point is dying. He grew up relatively wealthy with a distant but loving family and managed to hit the top 10 of whatever he tried so he was successful enough without being outstanding

In a lot of ways before transmigrating he sounds...bored and unfulfilled

But when he dies he has never had to process trauma before so he just ...doesn't. But also I think he's excited and interested and involved in his life for the first time

And I think it's really interesting that he self identifies more with his online handle then he does with his actual name. There is no reason he couldn't say his name was Something Yuan. But he never tries to go by his original name in the book. He hides behind his ridiculous web handle instead.

And I think that tells us that while he was from a relatively good life on the surface there were issues. Because I think even in his first life he was doing a lot of masking.

Because Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan reads as autistic. PIDW is his special interest. He's can info dump about monsters. The way he uses his fan is like a stim. And the way he masks as Shen Qingqiu is too practiced right away.

Even though he gets caught out right away he thinks he's masking well and it feels like he's used to it.

That combined with him preferring his online handle and how he drops the mask completely around Airplane who knew his online persona makes me feel that online is the only place he allowed himself to unmask and I find that very interesting

1. Shang Qinghua/Airplane:

I love him

I love him so much

He is just so tired and done with this shit.

He barely hides that he's a transmigrator, barely hides that he's a spy. He immediately calls Shen Qingqiu Cucumber Bro because he's so relieved he isnt alone

He's terrified of his King but god forbid anyone even think of harming a hair on his favourite's head

He is a sell out because he is a survivor. He has a lot of the same insecurities and issues as Binghe but he also has age on him and a cynicism that sees him through

He is as devoted to Mobei Jun as Binghe is to Shen Qingqiu but there is a mellower edge. He doesn't expect his King to choose him and he's fine with just being useful for most of the text

It's interesting to me that Binghe was willing to destroy the world to make it that Shen Qingqiu had to choose him because there would be no other choice

But Shang Qinghua gives Mobei Jun a challenge

He doesn't do it consciously but he basically tells Mobei "come find me and make it up to me. It's your turn to chase me."

Which is something Binghe cannot do and I really think that's speaks to the length of time Shang Qinghua has been alive in comparison but it's also just an interesting character moment for him

He wants what Bingqiu have but he wants to be the one chased now. After decades of being the servant afraid of being thrown away or killed he just wants domesticity and someone doing acts of service for him! And he gets it!

He's someone who causes the death of many children and everyone just kinda...overlooks that

Because he's just a little guy! And is so weak and pathetic except he's not. Not really.

He's jsut so fucking fascinating because he's got huge insecurities and issues but he's also got such a thick skin and thick face

He doesn't care what people think about him as long as he can be with his King at the end of the day

I could go on forever about Shang Qinghua but this is already so long

Top 5 moments:

Now I'm gonna say I haven't got the last two volumes yet so while I have read the whole story before it's been awhile since I read the end so things might be misremembered a little but I'm gonna do my best

5. The moment in the extras when Luo Binghe asks Sha Hualing, Mobei Jun, and Shang Qinghua for love advice because all 4 of them are so fucking stupid but especially Moshang and I love them

4. the Reveal of Shen Qingqiu in the plant Body in Cang Qiong. That "caught you" is so *chefs kiss* I love it! Then following that up with Binghe on one side an all his very hurt Martial Family on the other.... It brings me such joy. It's so well done

3. My Boy Diving after his King! The fact that right before it Cucumber was going to save Shang Qinghua but Mobei was already there protecting him, the fact that when Shang Qinghua goes to throw himself after his King Shen Qingqiu tries to stop him but is shoved aside!

It's such a great MoShang moment

2. The Self Detonation scene. It is such a moment! It's tragic and beautiful and sad and ahhhhhh. The way it's such an act of love but it's also so deeply traumatising to Binghe. Everything about it is exquisite

1. From the extras again Airplane protecting Mobei from his uncle. The image of the ring of fire with Shang Qinghua between them. When Shang Qinghua refuses to scream as long as he can, that when he breaks Mobei Jun overcomes everything just long enough to send his Uncle flying

Oh my god I think about that scene all the time

Honourable mention: Tianlang-Jun thinking SQQ is having a threesome with Zhuzhi Lang and Luo Binghe and is just like "...fascinating..." *Scribbles in his notes*

[guess-that-ship]

Guess That Ship Tournament S5: Round 1

Gods Love and Bleed Just as We Do

cw: Religion

Silver is a divine being devoted to that which he does not fully understand. Growing up worshipped by all those around him and kept isolated from the outside world, he believed his only purpose in life was to find his master and serve him regardless of the other factors at hand. After being recruited by a group of fugitives led by the unknowing reincarnation of the God Silver was born to protect, he proves to know far less about the practical world than he originally suspected.

Gold is a divine being as well, similar to Silver, but with far different opinions regarding it. He loathes what he views as an unsightly curse, and hides it away from sight, preferring to live his life as any other person with a criminal record and lack of shame. He values freedom and wishes to spend his relatively short lifespan without having to submit to a master. As such, Gold actively avoids the God that Silver tried yearned for, and puts up a fight when they seek him out.

A great deal of tension is developed whenever Silver and Gold meet and their clashing beliefs become strikingly obvious. Over the course of time, the two slowly learn to trust and connect with each other, and better each other in the process. They fight side by side to protect one another and those they love.

Gold's real-world experience and overall distaste for commitment balance out Silver's naïvety and blind, fiery devotion. Gold helps Silver view himself as more of a person than an object of mass destruction, and Silver helps Gold become more comfortable in his identity as a being that is inhuman, but still just as worthy of affection and care.

Disaster Duo

It starts when Lightning (a kind young man with some scary luck) is volunteered by his new friend group to go pick up another of their friends who’s been away for a while, Earth. Earth is a very kind, generous, and obscenely lucky person, but he’s also a walking disaster and supernaturally attractive to literally everyone, which makes even his friends want to avoid him.

Turns out, Earth’s charm doesn’t have much effect on Lightning, and he isn’t put off by the various shenanigans Earth gets up to or the misfortune his luck brings either. He just treats Earth normally and is genuinely happy to see him and hang out with him. They get on like a house on fire immediately. (Luckily, nothing is actually set on fire, though Earth does drive them off a cliff oops and into space double oops.)

Although Earth had been planning to leave after a few days, he ends up staying with Lightning for far longer, and they always return to each other’s side after any solo trips elsewhere. The two of them practically embody the concept of “what’s mine is yours”, lending each other everything, such as Lightning’s literal arm and Earth’s life-bound sword (multiple times!). Lightning has even said the words “will you marry me” to Earth before.

[dragons-and-handcuffs]

If Aemond and Aerys’ daughter were in love, Aemond would absolutely recognize his feelings before she does. But Aemond is ever driven by duty. He may love her. But he thinks she needs him more as support alone. As her confidant and comrade. As her dear uncle. Nothing more

He doesn’t realize his feelings would be returned. The princess however doesn’t know that’s what it is. She’s always been close with him. She just files it away as leftover worry for his safety. There’s too much in the realm right now to think about anything else. She can’t lose focus. Or he’ll end up hurt again

Aemond does see how she desires a love like her parents. And no, Aerys and him approve of no one. He thinks himself a hypocrite for in some way wishing he could give her that.

Ironically ending up in the very position Aerys was in with his niece. Never saying the words. For her sake just enjoying the small things a little longer. Oh and Aerys and his niece noticed. The niece first. She’s not a fool. But she didn’t have to tell her husband, he picked up not long after. They share glances and some words, their own way of communicating that they’re aware

Aerys does think no one worthy of his daughter. He doesn’t feel the need to lock her away to keep it like that, she was trained well enough. Doesn’t mean he’d approve just anyone she brought around though. Or that THEY would be safe from him. But he knows Aemond well. Arguably the sibling he’s closest with

He knows Aemond’s devotion to duty above all else. No feelings are enough for Aemond to betray what he believes is his duty. To be there for the princess. Aerys may know his brother. And out of everyone he would trust his daughter with, Aemond may come closer than others

However in his eyes, there is one large difference. Aemond’s devotion to duty. Aerys did have a lust for power, and he wanted the throne. But he wanted his niece more. Every moment, he chose her above all else. Her hands are the only ones he finds peace in. Her gaze is one of the only that matters. The thing he knows keeps Aemond from making a first move is also the thing that causes him worry. His daughter wants devotion. He does not know if Aemond would be more devoted to her than his duty. He trusts and loves his brother. But a small part of him worries for the heart of his daughter. She is strong. She’s no fool. But like her mother, she feels deeply. He thinks it one of her greatest strengths. He does not wish the qualities he admires so much in his brother and daughter to be their undoing.

Him and his wife quietly agree to leave it alone. The choice is ultimately in their daughter’s hands. If she falls for Aemond, he would return it. If she wants him and chooses him, they will not stop her. They’d almost be hypocrites themselves in a way if they tried. And if she chooses to move on and not return it…. That is her choice and hers alone

It’s something all three of them understand

But for now, Aemond takes simple joy in the small moments of kindness they share. The books they exchange. The small gestures to check for each other’s safety during battle

And the quiet moment Aemond and the princess share. When they sit together in the light of the small fire they built after fleeing the battlefield. Both too tired to move for now. With only each other. For now Aemond lets himself indulge in that softness at least

For even if she is not his, and never will be, at least he can’t say he was never happy to be by her side

Imagine the princess's dragon is injured and can't really carry her. Imagine she and Aemond riding Vahgar. Her leaning against his chest, and his hands on her waist. She just loves flying and it was almost therapeutic. And Aemond just can't stop watching her.

Imagine there is a feast and the princess is dancing with someone who is desperately trying to win her heart. Aemond interrupts them and has a dance with her. Telling her no man in the hall is worth her time. And she is like "I hope you are not counting yourself, uncle. Otherwise you would be so wrong, and I know you hate being wrong."

Remember that look Aemond gives Haelena when he enters the room and sees her? That the look he gives the princess when he sees her after a day or two.

Imagine Aemond gifting her a dainty necklace with a blue sapphire one that she can wear everyday. Usually it's daggers or a sword, but the necklace symbolizes something different. And for the princess it's worth more than every jewel in the palace. Imagine the moment he puts the necklace around her neck. His touch not leaving her. The princess starting to breathe a little heavily as she can feel something shifting between them

[arwen48]

How is it that the Amazon show has only been out a months and it’s already causing so much ship hate? Like sure, you can interpret Sauron and Melkor’s relationship as abusive, but you don’t have to. Name ONE cannon passage that states Melkor was ever abusive to Mairon. ONE! Ever! It’s downright impossible.

- Plus Tolkien made it clear that Mairon’s service to Melkor was selfless, and true because, specifically, it was not out of fear, but out of respect. He implicitly contrasts it to the service of the orcs, saying that any service motivated out of fear is always false, and further indicating that Melkor desired from Mairon absolutely loving service instead, because it’s true. And true service , to Tolkien has to be absent of fear completely, or else it is impure and not real, and most of all cannot be selfless. The writer goes on to say fear is always self serving, not serving the other but servicing self preservation, even if there’s only a little fear, it makes the bond of loyalty ( fear based loyalty is not actual loyalty, it loyalty to ones own safety) impure and means that it’s not actual faith, and the devotion is untrue. According to him, it means it’s not actual admiration, or worship or care. It’s not actual service. Melkor wants Mairon to see him as a god, as good and as worthy. True devotion- That’s the kind of service Melkor wants from Mairon, and that’s why he’s different from the orcs, because he doesn’t have fear of Melkor- he serves him out of true admiration, respect, belief and loyalty. Melkor must have purposely treated him better to maintain this trust, at least because he had to, because he needed Mairon (but it can be seen as love). As Tolkien states, this is a remnant of Mairon’s good, and is in contrast to the orcs, actual selfless devotion. That’s what I can draw from canon, and obvious that can be interpreted as love. Again, Tolkien states that Sauron served Melkor completely selflessly, and that this was a remnant of goodness in him. Goodness (according to Tolkien) is only ever out of love or admiration, and only ever out of selflessness, never out of negativity or fear. In the end it’s the memory of Melkor that brings him back to evil- but he only served Melkor for Melkor’s own sake, and the sake of his vision. He’d given up everything for it, and even though it was gone, it was not gone from his mind. You could say that he returned to evil out of some twisted fear of Melkor- but that’s downright impossible, because it’s been made clear that his service of Melkor couldn’t have been out of fear or else it couldn’t have been selfless or good- Tolkien states that his service was both selfless and a remnant of his good nature. Most of all he believed in Melkor and his vision, who he was and what he could do, the fact that he could change the world and rewrite fate. His belief had to be unfailing. You don’t just deny god for someone you hate or a future you don’t believe in 100%, and you aren’t said to have the true pure motive of service (that Tolkien says can only be attained in the complete absence of fear ) if you fear someone. Sauron’s motives are only pure when it comes to Melkor, in every way else he’s a jerk. He veiws Melkor as a god, and as a catalyst for the recreation of the world. He believes in who he is, his power to change things, his very essence and soul. And that’s why he serves him. Because he trusts in what he can do and respects him as a person.Melkor can’t hurt him without hurting his trust and without tainting the purity of his respect for him and belief with fear, which, according to Tolkien, would make his service to Melkor impure. Melkor would have to have given him privileges above the rest to maintain the purity of his belief. So, clearly, angbang has no canon requirement to be abusive. At all. There’s nothing in canon that says so, and there’s barely anything said about there relationship generally, so we have room to interpret it well.

Canon actually makes it seem that it couldn’t have been abusive, because of the intensity of their mutual cooperation, coordination and systematic undertsanding of each other (the fact Mairon knew him enough to enact his will and dreams and never tried to usurp him when he literally wouldn’t leave the house) as well as the fact Mairon was given the highest position of all, and that he served Melkor for Melkor’s sake alone, which AGAIN, according to Tolkien was one of the few good things about Sauron: he could purely admire or care about another’s feelings and goals. Apparently enough to make it his whole world view. And AGAIN, to Tolkien his service was absolutely loving, and unlike the orcs, was not out of fear, because that would have meant his service wasn’t really real service.

Actual service is serving another out of respect, one cannot truly serve another by force, you cannot be forced to want to do things for another, that would be enslavement, like with the the orcs.

[celestiall0tus]

When you get the chance, could you please tell us about each curse a miraculous gives in Paradise?

I can give you the curses of the current holders.

Bridgette - Creation - She will constantly feel the need to creation, to add, and experiment. She will be unable to destroy and get rid of anything she had made or acquired, including bonds with people.

Felix - Destruction - He will be compelled to ruin and destroy anything he can, whether it be objects, businesses, or relationships. He won't be able to create any new bonds, items, etc.

Marinette - Deception - No one believes her. Every thought and action from her is looked down on with suspicion (currently Bridgette's curse)

Chloe - Devotion - She gives her full loyalties to any individual she deems worthy, but will never be able to destroy those bonds, staying loyal to them until the very grave.

Zoe -Betrayal - All ties and bonds are severed. She will never hold loyalty in any person

Sabrina - Love - Her heart is open to all and she will be eternally loyal, no matter how she's treated. Like a puppy with a cruel master, always coming back no matter the treatment

Juleka - Animosity - Hatred and anger is all she knows. Even when she is happy, she's angry. When she experiences love, it will always be riddled with hatred (a sort of, I love you so much I hate you toxicity). Those she interacts with are immediately hostile and ready to fight.

Rose - Fear - Terror is all she feels and inflicts. Fear will always grip her heart while others fear her and stay clear of her.

Luka - Revelry - He only considers his own desires and needs, overindulging in them. Those he interacts with are quick to give in to temptations and overindulge.

Nino - Valor - Fear leaves him, leaving him brave, but foolish. He fears no man, but loses his concept of safety.

Alya - Intuition - Relies only on their gut feeling, trusting it and no one else. Acts solely on impulse and doesn't think about her actions before acting.

Nathalie - Perception - No longer blinded, they notice everything. Whatever they perceive they cannot ignore. They acknowledge everything.

Alix - Ignorance - Blinded to everything except what she wants to see and hear, shutting out reality and living in a rosy world.

Mylene - Connection - TBD

Amelie - Beauty - Only beautiful things may exist. No ugly is allowed to exist in the world.

Emilie - Transformation - Change. Change. Change!

Adrien - Life - SPOILER

Kagami - Nature - Appalled by cities, longing for a return to nature. Determined to help nature reclaim what is rightfully hers.

Gabriel - Protection - Overbearing and overprotective. Helicopter parent stage

Ondine - Soul - TBD

Kim - Body - TBD

Negation - When two halves of a whole come together, it negates the effects of the curse.