#reformed dark urge

[elvenmoans]

Reformed Durge has one little quirk that just CAN'T get rid of because they CAN'T understand why it's wrong

Cannabalism

Because the people are already dead, people would only be a little grossed out if a wild animal ate it so why is it wrong when a reformed scion of Bhaal wants to snack on some dwarf??? Stop looking at me like that Gale, I didn't kill them for meat it was for adventuring purposes!! They're gunna get eaten by bugs anyways!!

[hadesgirl015]

Full elves don't actually need to sleep for a full rest, so what does Astarion, Minthara and Halsin do when the others sleep?

1st short little one shot of who knows how many. I'll come up with more if I can think of something good.

Story 1: No Biting Allowed: Astarion makes a mistake.

[wild-magic-oops]

My Durge's to-do list post-game

Marry Gale

2. Stick it to his father

[moonstarsandspacedust]

“Currently on medical leave” is genuinely the funniest way of putting the entire Dark Urge-Orin situation. “Got lobotomized by my sister and kicked out of my cult but it’s okay I’m just on medical leave :)”

[chronurgy]

I totally understand why Gortash had to die facing the netherbrain - thematically it makes total sense. HOWEVER I really wish he hadn't died because it would have made things much worse for my Dark Urge Vesper. Namely, they would have actually had to choose between their romance with Gale and whatever the hell they had going on with Gortash. And it would not be an easy choice!

Gale loves Vesper and Vesper loves Gale and it's sweet and nice and lovely and maybe a little obsessive but. Well. It's sweet. There are no teeth. And Gale can't ever really understand them the way Gortash does. He makes them a better person. But that means they're constantly on, always fighting their instincts, always trying to be better.

Vesper and Gortash want to eat each other. They play their sick twisted mind games with each other because they both love it. Gortash knows Vesper, has seen them at their most monsterous, and wants them anyway. Wants them because of it. With him, they can be their worst and truest self.

And that's the question at the heart of it - what do they want? A sweet and uncomplicated love, one that will make them a better person, the kind of person that they might like to be, but who will never really understand them, never play their favorite vicious games with them? Or do they want to spiral down into an all consuming relationship that will have the two of then tearing each other apart with their teeth in perfect mutual harmony, to be totally understood, to give in to their worst impulses, lean into the manipulative push and pull schemes that they so enjoy?

[mightymizora]

A theme in my Manva and Enver dynamic that I haven’t spoken about here is religious reform and it’s a really core one. I may do a longer post when I’m not so busy on this but basically:

Manva’s control, precision, her killing with her hands, her plain presentation, is all linked to her reform of the Temple of Bhaal in the pursuit of the True Death. Whereas the old requirements of the temple were based in money and tithe from people expecting protection, assassination contracts, extravagant kills, she is taking it to a new era of reverence for the blood, and the pursuit of a True Death of all of Toril. This makes her extremely unpopular with some members of the temple, including those who support Orin, and those who were acolytes of the last chosen Torlin.

Gortash is also in the process of reforming the cult of Bane, but in a more responsive way to the changing socioeconomic principles of the sword coast. We are seeing the advent of the press, of landlords and industrial tycoons, and he is angling to make the church of the tyrant appealing to this new captain of industry class, a wealthy club that allows real privileges to its members. In some ways he is borrowing from the “secret society” model that many prominent Bhaalists pursued of having an outlet for their desires, as Manva is making the Bhaalists more puritanical.

[prettyboisteveharrington]

Reformed Durge Headcannons:

After refusing your birthright you have an identity crisis: you had no idea who you really were or who you were supposed to bed.

You still have Dark urges from time to time as you spent all your life with them before being reborn.

You struggle with forgiving yourself for being the cause the grand design, for trying to destroy Baldurs Gate for causing harm to so many people and no heroic deed lightens the load - the one thing that mends the pain is how your found family gets you through anxiety attacks and the guilt that eats away at you.

You struggle to accept that your love interest ( whoever you are romancing in the game) loves you unconditionally and you think you aren’t good enough for them.

After you defeat the elder brain and save the world you spend time away from everyone else because you still feel guilty.

You reluctantly come to Withers gathering because you miss your friends and your (hopefully not former) lover and everyone embrace you in a group hug and your lover vows to never let you go

Over time your Dark urges fade and you learn to forgive yourself

You work every single day to stay a good person

[bright-cloud]

🖤Midnight Crusader🖤

My newest BG3 character: Artorias! A Paladin of Shar 🖤

[oathbreakerapologist]

second page under the cut because of gore

if the party doesn't keep Ghost busy he'll keep himself busy and that's a terrifying prospect

[maegalkarven]

"What happens now?"

Nemo has spent unimaginable amount of time staring at his father's skull, its eyes unlit. Was he watching still? Did he see Nemo brought back to life by the forces the man himself did not understand? Or did he no longer care?

And just who exactly was Withers?

"Milord?"

It took a tentative touch to his shoulder for the man to finally turn around. And there they were, the damned, bloodied fools of his father's unholy assassins. The best of the best, the worst of the worst.

Staring at him like sheep brought to the slaughter.

"Yes?" It took all of his composure to simply shake the hand off and not break it; but composure was something he had a long good time of practicing.

And without the urge it was almost...easy. Almost like violence was something he didn't have to perform anymore.

"What will happen now?" Asked the girl, and Bhaal beneath, how didn't he notice how young they all are? None of the assassins looked older than forty and it said something about this whole business. Probably something very unsavory.

Nemo took a deep, steadying breath.

"Now," his voice echoed from the walls, multiplying it in a rather menacing manner. "You will renounce my father. You will lay down your weapons and your faith and will do no more of his bidding. Either you walk out of this godless or-" and at that he sent a glare more suited to be accompanied by a knife than by simple words. Seven hells, words were hard. "You will not walk out of it."

"Are..." another assasin raised a voice. "Are you asking us to forsake Bhaal?"

"Yes."

"And the alternative is..?"

"Joining his ranks on the other plane, of course," Nemo smiled his best, 'charming' smile. "But you all should be ready for that, everyone who kills should be ready to meet their own death. Or are you the cowardly kind?"

"So you will just kill us?" Oh, they argue now. Stupid lot. "As simple as that?"

"As simple as that," he gestured back at where whatever the fuck was left of his sister dearest lay. "Just like her. Though, I suspect, you'd throw less of a fuss over it. Or will you?"

"But we did everything Bhaal asked of us!" Another of his bunch of stupid idiots complained. "Everything you asked of us! And you will just...discard us?"

Of course he will. Did they not realize what kind of place it was, what kind of a "family"? Murder was what they did, all of them.

Him - more than the others.

"If, notice the emphasis, you do not reject Bhaal. But tear him out of your hearts - and you can walk out of this alive."

"And what about our contracts?"

That actually made him pause.

"Your...what now?"

The girl, the brave foolish girl who dared to touch him, spoke.

"Our murder contracts, you know, the ones we earn our wages from?"

They earned their wages? No, scratch that, they had wages?

He was sure he would not be able to forget that.

"Remind me for a moment, what's the deal with these," he winced. "Contracts?"

"Well...People ask us to kill someone," the girl shrugged. "We kill the target and get paid for that. Don't you remember? You set up the whole deal, said murders won't pay for our food unless we do something about it. And we did something about it," she grinned, obviously proud of "the whole deal."

"It was such a smart thing to do too, Lady Orin would never! All she wanted us to do is to perform the murders...fancily."

"By playing her corpse-dollies, I see."

Someone snickered. The girl frowned.

"Something like that. We had to run the operation in secret, but what else we were supposed to do?" She gestured around wildly. "The temple might provide us shelter, but the food? And what of our families? Some of us have children, you know, parents. Who will support them?"

Alright, now this was becoming weird.

"You're saying you've killed people...to feed your families?"

"I have a pet," someone from the crowd shouted. "It's an alligator and let me tell you, providing for this thing is costly."

"You have a pet alligator?"

"Yes," the man stepped closer. "His name is Minty, you've met him! Said he's a mighty beast and what I'd better feed him the corpses of my victims, that'd save the costs."

Despite his best judgment Nemo could feel a smirk crawl up his lips and firmly settle there.

A pet alligator Misty. Ridiculous.

There was a bunch of freaks and weirdos standing in front of him.

But again, wasn't he the same as them? A blade made of flesh, a man knowing how to take life and little else.

Maybe something could be salvaged here yet.

Maybe.

"Alright," the sigh he let out didn't feel forced, yet there was some anticipation too. Murder was familiar. Murder what brought money was...prospective. "Show me these contracts."

[thecityofdoors]

if raphael had the sense to offer me Emperor Gossip Hour whenever i wanted then maybe i would have taken his deal

[femcadash]

bg3 spoilers /

finished bg3 and shook that I got the ending where Gale became a god + I didn’t even get a chance to try to talk him out of it… told him at the pier after the final battle not to do it, but didn’t even get a persuasion check or anything. Anyway wow he really made you do all the legwork to make him a god and then gets pissed at you for not worshipping him… MEN

[hadesgirl015]

Another playthrough equals another story of what happens after.

This is from my resisting the Urge, Dark Urge playthrough

Meet Phyrra, they are a Non-binary Wild Magic Sorcerer.

Hope you enjoy

[spacemoth-moth]

227 hours later, and i finally finished bg3!

[navybrat817]

Give Me One More

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You don't need Bucky. He's going to prove you wrong. Over and over and over...

Word Count: Over 3.7k

Warnings: DUBCON to be safe, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, masturbation, established and slightly toxic relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, family drama, betrayal, threats (not against reader), loose backstory, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit mean, okay?).

A/N: I spoke about prisoner!Bucky ages back and I couldn't let this go. Especially not when I'm looking at that beautiful edit by the more beautiful @nixakimbo! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own (but thanks to @whisperlullaby for discussing this man with me!). Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You pushed the curtain aside to look out the bedroom window, the clouds dark and thick in the sky. Your home used to be your safe haven, a place of comfort, and all you wanted to do now was escape from your prison of sorts. Not the kind of place your boyfriend, Bucky, spent time in. The bars that kept you in couldn't be seen by the naked eye.

“Can't stay in there all day,” Bucky said from the hall, his deep voice reminding you that you weren't alone.

You’d never be alone again.

“Yes, I can,” you called back. You had been in your bedroom for well over an hour since you snapped at him and left him alone in the living room. If staying in there meant avoiding him, you were fine with that.

You half expected him to stomp down the hall, but he only said, “You’re being a fucking brat.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. “Leave me alone, asshole!” You shouted, feeling every bit like the brat he said you were.

You weren’t sure what set you off today. It could've been because you were still angry that Bucky used you. How long did it take for an empire to fall? In your case, six months.

Half a year ago, Bucky Barnes bumped into you at your favorite coffee shop. Literally. He was large, built like a powerhouse, but his grip that kept you from falling was so gentle. One look in his cerulean eyes and you were a goner. He easily charmed his way into your life and bed. He treated you like a princess, better than any boyfriend before, and you naively believed it was fate that brought you together.

You should’ve known it wasn't the beginning of a happy new chapter in your story. It was a clock winding down to your doom. More specifically, your father’s doom. Because Bucky wanted to destroy the man who helped land him in jail.

The White Wolf, a nickname for Bucky you recently learned about, wasn't a good man. Far from it and far from being a reformed criminal. He took it personally that your dad got him put behind bars for a short time. So he tore his life apart. Took his job away. Urged his friends to abandon or turn on him. Got him put in jail. Bucky even rubbed it in his face that he fucked his daughter. All in six months.

It would almost be impressive if you weren't the one living with the aftermath.

Had your dad known exactly who you were seeing, he may have tried to stop you.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

What Bucky didn't plan on was falling for you or so he said. You were, apparently, his chance at happiness. Because of that, he wouldn't let you go. And he expected you to just forgive him and move forward.

How could you forgive him?

He promised he’d hunt you down if you tried to leave him. You naturally tried and didn't get very far. The sick part was how much you enjoyed him chasing after you and bringing you back. After he fucked you where he found you.

As if he read your mind, he called out, “I know you're frustrated. Bet if you sit on my cock you'll feel better.”

Your cheeks flamed, your panties damp. Damn him for still arousing you with so little words. “Go fuck yourself.”

That actually wasn't a bad idea. He was right. You were frustrated and itching to get out of your own skin. Maybe if you got yourself off, you’d feel a little better. Not happy, but better.

“I don't need him,” you said.

That was what you told yourself as you stripped down and got on the bed. But as you ran your hands along your breasts, gasping as you moved one hand lower, it didn't feel right. The normal fire within you didn't burn. Didn't even a flicker. A raw ache instead outweighed the pleasure you tried to give yourself.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

You heard Bucky’s dark chuckle from the doorway and made the mistake of looking his way. You weren't sure how long he'd been standing there, but his cock was free from the confines of his pants and he lost his shirt at some point, too. He didn't attempt to hide the array of scars and tattoos that littered his torso. Ones you traced with your fingers and tongue more times than you could count. Back when you weren't a pawn in his game.

But if you really were a pawn, why did he have your name tattooed over his chest?

“Looks like you need a hand,” he said, brushing back his long hair as his eyes moved along your body from head to toe.

You ignored your racing heart as you said through your teeth, “Go away.”

He tore your life apart like a tornado, leaving destruction where there was once calm and beauty. Instead of letting you pick up the pieces, he continued to wreck everything around you. He broke you, too, but you were also the only thing he put back together.

The smirk he gave you was one you used to adore. “What’s wrong, princess? Still mad at me?”

You scoffed. Was he serious? “Yes, I’m fucking mad at you.”

“Still mad about the past? Or is it because you can't get out of your own head long enough to make yourself come?” He taunted, slowly stroking his thick cock. “Did you ever actually get yourself off before me? Or did you not know what an orgasm was until I gave you one?”

You watched with a lustful gaze as his hand moved up and down, your eyes not leaving the sight as you desperately tried to get some sort of relief. “I had plenty before you showed up,” you hissed, sliding a finger into your tight hole.

“You know, all you have to do is admit that I'm right: That I've ruined you and all you can think about is how good it feels when I'm fucking you. Admit it and I’ll get you off.”

Pushing another finger inside yourself, you refused to admit that he was telling the truth. Nothing felt as good as he did. And that was the problem, wasn't it? You shouldn't want or need him. Not after everything he had done to your family.

He groaned as he watched your fingers sink in. “You're so pathetic laying there. My pretty little slut wants to prove the impossible. Just wants to prove that she doesn't need me when we both know that's a fucking lie,” he grunted as his cock twitched, making you clench in want despite your anger at his words. “Better hurry up and say it. Otherwise I'm going to come all over you and you're going to be left begging to come and not get off at all.”

You whined as a tear fell from your eye. “You're an asshole. The lowest of the low.”

He chuckled as he brushed his thumb along the tip, watching as your eyes followed the motion. “Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings and that's mean, princess. That isn't you. I'm the mean one in this relationship.”

Your fingers froze as you narrowed your eyes. “Relationship? Don't you mean your prisoner?”

Your breath caught in your throat when he smirked, something darker than before. “You think you're a prisoner? You have no fucking idea. I’ve been to prison. This is a fucking walk in the park,” he said, pouring more salt in the open wound when he added, “And your dad knows all about prison now, doesn't he?”

You choked on your next breath. “How dare-”

“Relationship, prisoner, my girl. You're still fucking mine,” he snarled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “And I'm still right. So just say it. Tell me you need my cock and I'll get you off. Fuck that pretty pussy so good you cry for me. Won't even make you apologize for repeatedly calling me an asshole.”

“I wish I never met you,” you blurted out.

Guilt churned in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. Why did you still care after what he did? Why did he matter to you? “You don't mean that,” he whispered before he blinked, ice in his gaze. “You’re just being a fucking brat.”

You let out a small scream of frustration when you removed your fingers and reached for your side drawer where you kept your vibrator. If Bucky was going to keep being an asshole who wouldn't get you off, your toy would. But he didn't let you get very far. Not when he was on you in a flash, throwing the toy far behind him and pinning your wrists above your head.

His breathing was almost as heavy as yours.

“Oh no, princess. You're so confident you can come without me then that must mean you don't need any help at all coming,” he smirked, gripping your wrists tighter as you squirmed beneath him. You didn't dare look down when his cock brushed against your skin. “It's cute that you think you're stronger than I am. That sexual frustration must really be fucking with your head. I can fix that.”

“You're fucking sick. I don't… I… I don't need you,” you said, not having to see your eyes to know your pupils were blown with lust. Your tongue darted out to lick bottom lip before your gaze settled on his, challenging. “You need me more than I need you. What was it you said? That I was the best pussy you ever had? And you’d be happy to keep your cock in me all day every day?”

“Just like my cock is the best you ever had.”

You opened your legs a bit more when he clenched his jaw. “And you don't want to finish on me. You want to be in me. If it were any other guy, he'd-”

He growled when he grabbed your chin. It was a reminder of just how strong he was and how he could hurt you if he wanted to. “There are no other guys. Do you fucking hear me?”

It was your turn to smirk. Bucky was a lot of things, but he never strayed. Not once. He would forever be faithful. “You sure about that? Maybe I can't relax right now, but if you won't fuck me I’m sure I can find someone who-”

He flipped you on your stomach and gripped the back of your neck before you could finish that statement. “If you think I wouldn’t kill any guy who touches you, you’re out of your fucking mind. Keep pushing me, sweetheart. See what happens.”

You bit back a moan at the gravel in his voice as you turned your head to the side, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. It was dangerous to poke the bear, but you were past the point of caring. Especially when fury looked beautiful on him. “What's wrong, Bucky? Don't like the taste of your own medicine?”

He leaned down, his breath harsh against your ear. “I prefer the taste of your pussy. Always so good for me. You wanna hear that I need you? Fine. I fucking need you,” he rasped, biting at your earlobe. “Happy?”

“And that you’re sorry?”

“For hurting you? Yes,” he whispered, nosing along your neck. “Never meant to hurt you.”

You shuddered, almost delirious from needing to come. And the fact that he admitted that he needed you. That he was sorry for hurting you. But you weren't ready to play nice. “I'll be happier when you finally decide to fuck me, but you're just a fucking asshole, aren't you?”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I'm a fucking asshole.” He nipped your earlobe roughly again in retaliation before settling between your legs and teasingly brushing the tip of his cock along your folds. “And I'll fuck you when you say you need me, too.”

You tried to push back to take him in, but he kept a firm hold on your hips. You tried to wiggle out of it, but it only brought you frustration as you groaned. “If you're really going to make me say it, don't hold your breath. You can't threaten me, Bucky. You're all talk. And guess what?” You said, smiling sweetly. “I can find another guy to fuck me better than you can.”

You couldn’t see the thunderous look in his eyes, but you heard the low and menacing chuckle in his throat. It sent chills down your spine. Maybe you pushed too far this time, but you didn’t care. He deserved it and worse.

“You're trying to piss me off and I want you to remember that you pushed me to this,” he said more to himself than you before sheathing you in one hard thrust, your mouth falling open in a cry at his sudden intrusion. “Hope you enjoy the bed since you won't even be able to walk out of this room.”

You stared at the wall, your eyes unseeing as Bucky tore you apart. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. The sound of his grunts from behind you filled your ears, along with the brutal slap of skin-on-skin. Your body burned, the overwhelming stretch from his cock making you lose sense of yourself. You told yourself he’d finish fucking you soon, but that felt like ages ago.

You also told yourself there was no way you’d have another orgasm, but he proved you wrong. Climax after climax, your release practically flooded around him. At this rate, you really wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

“Bucky,” you gasped, trying to grip the sheets for purchase as he pulled out and slammed back into you. “Please…”

You were boneless, exhausted, and he just kept going. “Oh, no, princess. You wanted to get off.”

Tears of ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, whimpering when you felt yourself on the cusp of another orgasm. How was that possible? How many had he given you? “Bucky, I…” you moaned as you clenched around his cock again.

He cooed, a taunting sound when you choked on a sob. “So good, but I want another.”

“I don't… ” Your eyes rolled back, your head spinning. “I can't.”

You’d seriously lost count at that point how many times you’d come. And your whimper didn't stop Bucky from mockingly cooing again. “Aww, you don't think you can? My poor little fuck doll can still talk which means she hasn't had enough yet. This pussy is so fucking wet for me, so swollen,” he taunted, reaching underneath you and flicking your overstimulated clit as a choked moan escaped you, your walls tightening around him once again. “See? Your greedy little cunt can't get enough of me.”

Why did your body need him so badly? “I can't…” you whined as he licked one of your tears away, seemingly unbothered by the sheen of sweat on your face.

“You think anyone else can do this? Work your body up like this over and over again?” He grunted against your cheek. Your eyes squeezed shut at his harsh panting, his pace not slowing. “All you had to do was say that you need me. But no. You just had to be a fucking brat.”

You practically wailed as you teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “I-I need you. Just you, Bucky,” you said. At least, you thought you said it. You had a tough time stringing any thoughts together with his cock splitting you open.

But his thrusts don’t slow. They were just as relentless as before. “Oh, no. You had your chance to say it,” he snarled, leaning up to pull your hips back against his. “And my pussy is telling me all I need to know. So just lay there and give me another.”

The pleasure bordered on the edge of pain as a sob escaped. There was no possible way you could come again. As much as you thought you couldn’t take it, your body tensed. You still craved him and wanted to give him one more. So you did. You shattered. It was almost too easy that he managed to pull another orgasm from your pliable body.

Or maybe you were just easy for him.

Bucky smacked your ass hard enough to make you cry out, his hand kneading the flesh with a delighted groan. “Fuck, each one is better than the last, princess. You want me to fill you up huh? You wanna feel me dripping from you?” He chuckled darkly, finally slowing down as you let out another sob. He shushed you before he put a hand on the back of your neck and kept you down. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’re gonna take it. Then, I'm gonna lick you clean until I'm satisfied.”

“No…”

He gave you one more smack for good measure when you made a sound of protest. “C'mon, princess. Beg for me to fill you up. If you can talk.”

You didn’t know if you could. You were practically a drooling mess as he drove in as deep as he can go. “Pl… Pl… Bu…” you tried to moan, another tear falling as he shushed you again.

“Got you cockdrunk, didn't I? Need to be pumped full? Then let me give you every. Fucking. Drop.”

A tired moan came out when he filled you up, giving a few slow thrusts as he finished. Your body trembled beneath him, a whiplash of chills and heat. You barely registered him pulling out before he flipped you onto your back. Glassy and unfocused eyes. Makeup smeared all your face. Tears stains on your cheeks. You must’ve looked quite the sight.

He relished in ruining you.

And the beautiful bastard didn’t even look like he broke a sweat.

“Should I call you a dog? You’re drooling, princess,” he smirked. You didn’t have it in you to argue as his eyes drifted down to your pussy. It was still twitching and leaking with your mixed release. He licked his lips as he slid down your body more to fully take in the sight. “And you look good enough to eat, so I think that's just what I'll do.”

“What…” you gasped. He couldn't. Not after all that.

You whimpered as you tried to push him away with a tired hand, but he grabbed your wrists with a tsk. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You keep your hands to yourself. I told you I wasn't done with you and it's rude to keep a man from his meal.”

You were still floating from the multiple orgasms he gave you when he took his first lick. Your shivers picked up again and he groaned at your taste before diving in. Any strength you had to try to push him away depleted immediately, even with how sensitive your walls felt. You couldn't stop him.

You’d never be able to stop him.

After a minute, your eyes widened when you felt him build you up again. “No,” you moaned, but the sight of him between your legs, eating you like he was starving, was too much.

He just hummed against you. "Give. Me. One. More.”

Your back arched when his lips latched onto your clit, forcing the orgasm from your worn out body. You weren’t sure if you made a sound, but you trembled as your release went on for what seemed like forever. Bucky’s tongue lapped it all up, humming before he sat back and looked at your wrecked form again. He made a show of licking the shine from his lips and looked just as proud as ruining you with his tongue the way he did with his cock.

“If you ever try to threaten me with another man or refuse to admit you want me again, I'll make sure to tie you to this bed for a week and refuse to let you come even if you beg for it. And I shouldn’t have to mention what else I can do. Do you understand?”

You trembled, knowing exactly what Bucky was capable of. While he never laid a hand on you to inflict pain, you knew the damage he did to others. Like the bodies buried and cold in the ground because of him. Not to mention the connections he still had at the prison. All he had to do was say the word and that would be the true end of your dad.

With unfocused and teary eyes, you gave him a nod. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered.

“Now tell me you love me and that you’re sorry,” he ordered.

A tear slid from the corner of your eye. “…Love you. I’m sorry.”

His smile was tender and for a second you forgot about everything else. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, your heart betraying you like your body did when he kissed your lips. “And I love you, too.”

You whined as he left your line of sight, but he came back almost right away to sit beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. “Drink it, princess,” he urged, his voice gentler than before he helped you take a sip of water. He even smiled again when he wiped another tear of yours away. “We can go back to the way it was before, you know. When you were blissfully unaware and we just quickly fell in love.”

The pain in your heart came and went as your breathing evened. You wished you could go back to innocent movie nights and meals. To waking up beside him with a smile on your face. To making love so passionate that you believed you were made for each other. There was no changing anything or going back. You could only move forward with him by your side.

Bucky sighed when you didn't say anything. “I know I’m a piece of shit, but I won't stop loving you. And I think you learned your lesson.”

You blinked a little as you took another sip, on the verge of passing out.

“You’re mine and I’m never letting you go,” he whispered, brushing the gentlest of kisses against the top of your head. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”

So... I know he isn't all good, but I had fun writing this and I hope you lovelies enjoyed it! Would love to hear your thoughts and maybe I'll expand on this? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[bluerosefox]

Bellatrix Star

A TaliaxDanny idea that came to me.

Damian, Bruce, and the rest of the bats discover the Talia al Ghul they had been fighting against, the one that cloned her own son, had the clone kill him, plant a control device in him when he broke his spine, etc etc was actually not the real Talia al Ghul.

Turned out Ra's had cloned her and killed the original when she discovered his little plans to take over Damain's body and she confronted him about it. Ra's had to make a clone when after tossing a dead Talia into the pits but never returned (he meant to kill her as a warning, as a "you may be my blood but will not hesitate to end you Talia.") It explains so much to Damian when remembers how out of nowhere his mother changed, her training him changed from harsh to deadly, the soft motherly love she would give him when behind closed doors suddenly stopped, the tales she would spin for him about his father no longer whispered to him for bed.

How this was find out?

Well it's hard to ignore the facts that when your foolish grandfather in his quest for immortality summons an eldritch being known as the Ghost King into the Mortal Realm and uses Damian as a sacrifice while his (not) mother watches emotionless.

When the being appeared, plunging the room from green glowing flames and the glow of the Lazarus Pits into darkness before a cosmos exploded to life, its glowing green eyes snapped open in the stars and stared at them all. Making every single one of them feel small, so very small.

It took a single glance around the room before stopping on the al Ghul's. It's eyes widen before a steel and firm look entered them. Just as quick as the cosmos sprang to life, it suddenly swirled away into a ball, putting them all back into the Lazarus room,and reformed in front of them to a more humanish height and body.

When the body, around the height and build of Batman, was done forming it took a step forward and suddenly as one blinked a man stood in front of them. Or rather floated. Snow white hair that flickered and wisped towards a crown made of fire and ice, glowing green eyes that held none of the madness but all of the power the Lazarus Pits could give. His clothing were tailored made that were tastefully a mixture of black and white with some silvers and greens, clothes fit for a King one would say. The cosmos that once engulfed the room had shifted into a cloak that hanged around his body, on one side more than the other (think like how CW wears his only the hood is down).

This, this was no doubt the Ghost King, he stood tall and regal and made everyone in the room feel the need to look down, to bow ones head for even just a moment. Even Ra's had trouble disobeying the urge to do so.

"Well..." the being said, his voice deep but not as gravely as Batman's was "What an interesting way to meet my In-Laws and Step-Son..."

He has said that as he looked towards the al Ghul's. Damian flinched back with a frown of confusion and disbelief while Ra's looked panicked for a second when the words registered into his mind, meanwhile Talia... looked emotionless and barely even twitched.

"What the fu-?" Someone began only to stop when the King lifted his hand and with a snap of his fingers a green portal appeared, it looked almost like the Lazarus Pits but it felt... cleaner? Less angry?

"My Bellatrix, my warrior star. I believe I've been summoned to your home dimension. And judging by the looks of it your father created a barely functioning Mirror of you and planned on using your son as a sacrifice to me." He spoke out towards the portal before holding his hand out.

A hand appeared from the portal, a slender hand and with green and black painted nails manicure to perfection before someone walked through it as they took hold of the Ghost King's offering hand.

Standing in front of them was another Talia, only this one looked a tad older than the one in the room. She wore clothing that matched the King to a T but even then, as always, Talia looked deadly in it. Beautiful but very deadly. From the heels she wore to the crown upon her head, a crown made of not ice and fire but of stars and black jewels. Her eyes were sharp as she stared at everyone in the room, frown on her painted lips, but her eyes lit with a small soft joy when she saw Damian only for them to turn poisonous when they landed on Ra's and the other Talia nearby.

"I should had know you would had created a Mirror of me instead of admitting to my son you killed me Father." Queen Talia spat out. "The least you could had done was not make my Mirror so cheaply, it doesn't even have a proper soul attached to it."