#the danger it posses for the order

[teecupangel]

How would the other assassins react if one of their own assassins snuck on recon missions knowing they're not supposed to but unfortunately they kept messing up the missions even though they wanted to prove themselves?

Oh boy. This would be a problem because even if it’s just a recon mission, they’re Assassins and even a small mistake could be the trigger that will end their life so they’d be less… uuuhhh… well… let’s just see XD

I’m just going to focus on the main Assassins:

Altaïr: He’d get irritated and would probably talk to that Assassin. His words would sound harsh and hurtful but his message would be clear: “You’re a liability and there’s a reason why you were not taken in this mission in the first place. If you keep this up, we’ll end up failing the mission or, worse, dead.” and the other members of his team would tell him he’s gone too far because of his choice of words. A conflict would arise from that and Altaïr would order everyone to stay hidden and to not do anything at all. He’ll finish the mission all by himself instead. That would only add more bad blood between Altaïr and the rest but he has no time to coddle someone he believes can’t even see how much in jeopardy they all were now because of the mistakes they had made. The missions would still be a success and Altaïr solo-ing the mission would be known to the Brotherhood and well… there will be those who will side with Altaïr’s decision and those who would think of him as being a gloryhound so, in this scenario, the Assassin had inadvertently added more reason for Altaïr to be isolated with the rest of the Brotherhood which they didn’t want to do but Altaïr doesn’t care anyway. (In this one, Al Mualim would not be pleased and, really, a ‘soldier’ who does not listen to their master is a liability which would be dangerous because Al Mualim wouldn’t think twice of cutting off those he cannot control both for his own benefit and the safety of the Brotherhood as a whole).

Ezio: Ezio would try to be patient and understanding but he’s been an Assassin long enough to know that one single mistake could easily end their lives so he’d be nice about it when he tells the Assassin to stand down and stay with the group. The Assassin would probably feel like they’re being pushed aside by the end of the mission and Ezio would take the time to talk to them, telling them his side of the ‘story’. Ezio isn’t just thinking about the mission, but the safety of everyone including the Assassin themselves. Ezio would also scold them for going on the mission when they were explicitly told not to and that trying to prove one’s self is only a good thing if they can do it. For now, Ezio would order the Assassin to return to training and forbid them from going on any missions until Ezio is certain they show that they understand why they were being punished and would show a bit of growth.

Ratonhnhaké:ton: He’d have to do more for the mission to make up for the Assassin’s mistakes. He’d get frustrated but he won’t take it out on the Assassin, knowing they’re trying their best. Once the mission is over, Ratonhnhaké:ton would try to help the Assassin get better because he’d remember that how he learned the best when it’s one-on-one training and he think that maybe that would help.

Edward: Honestly, if Edward was still a pirate, he’d probably leave the Assassin once they reach a safe location, might even tell them to do something else that would lead them back to Jackdaw instead as he has no time (or patience) to babysit anyone. If he’s already an Assassin, he’d try to be understanding but he’d get frustrated later on which he’d just sigh about in a resigned kind of way. He’d just work harder to get the job done even with all the mishaps happening. By the end of it though, he’d probably get the Assassin sent to Miko to be trained and to be as far away from the field as possible until they’re ready since it’s too dangerous for everyone.

Arno: Arno would do everything he can to support and make up for the Assassin’s mistakes and he’d be stuck playing referee and breaking up the tension between the other Assassins that are actually part of their team. Once the mission is over, he’d try to help the Assassin by talking to the council into lessening the Assassin’s punishment but he’d be unable to say anything once one of the council members go “Would you still be saying the same thing had their actions resulted in the death of one of your team members?”. If Bellec was alive by this time, he’d tell Arno to stop being ‘nice’ as being nice would get him killed in this line of work and Arno would just stay quiet.

Jacob and Evie: Evie would try to be nice about it but she’ll tell the Assassin to stand down or step aside because they’re in the way. Jacob would be the one to try and comfort the Assassin because he knows how easy it is to be blinded by the desire to prove themselves. That has been a companion of Jacob since they’ve been young after all. When Jacob and Evie return to the train without the Assassin, Evie would tell Jacob not to coddle the Assassin because the only way for the Assassin to be better is by accepting the truth. This turns into an argument with Jacob saying that Evie wouldn’t know what it’s like since she has always been the best while Evie tells Jacob that he’s too busy having a pity party by himself that he doesn’t even notice that Evie herself had spent her entire life trying to gain their father’s approval and Jacob had it easy because he never even tried. This makes Jacob finally snap because the reason why he never ‘tried’ was because he knew it would always fail because Evie always got their father’s attention and… well… the following day, the Assassin won’t know anything about it but Jacob would suggest that they join the Rook instead and the Assassin would mistake that as Jacob saying that they’re never going to be a good Assassin so they should just stop.

I’m sorry if it sounds like negative reactions but recon missions can be quite dangerous, especially if it’s in enemy territory (and recon missions usually means they don't have any information) so an Assassin who keeps messing up would be… well… that Assassin would be adding more and more chances that their group would be found and captured or killed and all the other Assassins would have to keep helping clean up the ‘mess’.

[misstycloud]

Queen of hearts reader x yan card knights

As the next in line for the throne its most important you raise yourself with dignity, elegance and wit. You could not afford to fail or show any weakness. If you did, it could mean your downfall.

So you grew up with this heavy burden; classes in dozens of subject going from dawn to dusk, fearing you might get assassinated, polishing your appearance to absolute perfection.

When it was finally your turn to take over the crown, you were nervous. Despite having trained hard for this moment ever since you were born, you still feared for the future. Would you really be able to lead with the same strength as those before you? Or would you do a terrible job and doom the kingdom? Those were both equally possible options.

Luckily, you did have trustworthy friends by your side who’d lay down their lives in order to protect you.

Lucius Stormheart was your childhood friend. He’d been with you for as long as you could remember. He was the son of the captain of the royal guard, whom have been a friend of your father for a very long time. Perhaps that is one of the reasons the two of you were introduced. You were around seven and nine at the time. You still remember how he refused to meet your gaze and bowed deeply whilst telling you what an honour it was to meet you.

He was a bit stiff for his age, you believed it was because of the legacy and role he’d have to eventually take over; although you were hardly one to talk. If you had any other friends they’d probably also think you’re strange and not at all fun.

Lucius and you never really played traditional children’s games. It was already decided he would become a knight, so he became your guard. Of course, there was no real danger since you stayed within the palace but he took his duty seriously; constantly following you in silence and staying vigilant of anything that moved. Usually, you would have tea in the garden and he would just stand watch. You beckoned him to sit down and enjoy himself, offering him sweets and other delicacies, but he only shook his head. It went on like that for years. You grew tired of him hardly uttering a single word to you. He was supposed to be your friend but wouldn’t even engage in simple conversation. He truly was too stiff for his young age.

You recalled one day, you were almost an adult then, when you wanted to tease him a bit. You pretended to have lost your gold bracelet somewhere in the grass and cried for him to find it. The moment he bent down in the grass to scour for he (not) lost jewelry, you took off as quick as your legs were able. Lucius immediately reacted and shouted for you to come back, but you had gotten a head start.

You laughed as you felt the freedom you’d never had. It wasn’t long until you ditched your fine shoes and ran barefoot. The wind in your hair and ground under your feet felt great. Lucius’ voice wasn’t far behind you. Tiredness overcame you and you threw yourself down among the green and the flowers. You closed your eyes.

Not soon after you heard heavy footsteps and deep breaths. You looked up to see your childhood friend-made-guard loom over you with a furious expression. How could you just run off like that? Do you understand how dangerous it is for someone in your position? You could be attacked!

You ignored his scolding and rolled around, inspecting the flowers instead.

“Are you even listening to a word I say? Of course not.” He huffed. “You can’t run away from me. Ever. If you do, I might not be able to protect you. Imagine that someone had managed to sneak into the palace ground and was waiting for an opportunity to assassinate you, this would be the perfect moment to do so. Honestly, have you no sense of danger? I’d think someone with your background would posses more caution-“

You drowned out his speech. You were staring blankly at him, an idea came to you, you wanted to tease him further. Besides, this was something you’ve wanted yourself for some time. You rolled your eyes with a smile and sat up.

“- and then it would not only affect you but also-“

“Lucius.” You said gently.

He quieted down. It was evident he was not yet done and seethed in silence, after all, you were a princess whilst he was nothing but a commoner. A commoner inheriting an important role and being more privileged than other commoners was still a commoner nonetheless.

“Can you come closer?”

The young guard frowned but did as told. He knelt beside you and awaited your next words. What he did not expect was for you to caress his cheeks and quickly pull him in for a kiss. Lucius’ mind went completely blank. At first, there was nothing, no air, no light, no sound. Then after a couple second came everything, the warmth of the sunny afternoon, the sound of birds twittering on branches and the feeling of your lips against his. They moved with a gentle passion, your tongue licking his lips, asking permission to enter. He complied. It was sweet and warm, completely different from the early mornings and harsh trainings he goes through everyday.

It wasn’t until after you pulled away and smiled at him that Lucius remembered how to breathe. He stood up like someone had burned him- which someone had to a certain degree- and backed away.

Stuttering, he gasped, “P-Princess? What..w-why would you?-“

You laughed at his embarrassment, feeling a bit sorry for him. He was completely red in the face, matching the uniform he wore.

“My apologies, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to tease you one last time.”

Oh. So that was it? Yes, of course you only wanted to have some fun. It’s not like you get to do anything else out of pleasure in your life. You used him for amusement.

“…..Yes, Princess. It’s alright, but you should not do something like this again. You need to refrain from having relations with men that are not your husband- especially not commoners.”

That was the end of it, you thought. You apologised a couple more times before forgetting about the experience. Lucius said it was fine so there was nothing more to it, right? Unfortunately you had no idea of the massive crisis you’d started within Lucius.

You kissed him. Him of all people. Lucius would not believe it if he hadn’t experienced it firsthand. He wondered if all those years of him loving you in secret had been in vain. Did you know? No, obviously you didn’t. It’s just like you said, it was for amusement. You wanted to tease him like when you suddenly took off. It was only fun.

Nothing more like that happened afterwards. The kiss was long since buried along with other memories. That was the case for you. But not for Lucius. He didn’t forget.

About a year before you were crowned queen, Lucius took over his fathers position and became the new captain of the royal guard. You both had become so busy-him with his new job and you with preparing for your coronation- that you hardly saw each other. If you were lucky, you saw him training outside with the new recruits or wandering the hallways. You sent a mere nod of acknowledgement to the other person, no words were exchanged. If you had the time you would’ve mourned the death of the little friendship you had.

You believed you would be no more than strangers with no past and no future. However, you were surprised when your father had called you into his office and there, in all his glory, stood your childhood friend Lucius. His hair reached just above his ears and he wore the same stern expression he always had. The red in his armour seemed glowing, it reminded you of blood.

Your father then revealed the news of Lucius officially becoming your personal knight. When the two of you were young he constantly guarded you but it was more of an assumed responsibility. He was not actually in charge of your protection.

Lucius had done well in his new position and your father wanted to grant him a wish in return. The young man had proceeded to tell him there was nothing more he wanted than to serve his kingdom by protecting its future monarch. This wish was so noble it was granted without further questions, so long he could manage his other duties as well. It made sense, as the captain of the royal guard, whom else was more qualified to protect you?

You first met Sebastian Spade when you were visiting another kingdom as a preteen. The adults had their meetings and swatted you away. They ushered you to go explore the castle whilst they took care of the things that mattered. You decided to go outside since you weren’t too sure about snooping around in all the rooms, there was always a chance you’d find something you shouldn’t and your parents had previously urged you not to run into trouble.

The outside was also beautiful with colourful flowers and carefully trimmed bushes. You wandered, taking in the wonderful scenery. Along the way, the flowers disappeared and you found yourself at the training grounds. At the centre stood a boy your age holding a sword. He lunged at the training dummy positioned in front of him. Unfortunately, he lost his footing and flew forward. The sword landed on the ground with a loud clatter and the boy let out an ‘omfph!’.

You rushed to side and asked him if he was alright, which he was; just embarrassed. He told you his name was Sebastian and that he was aiming to be a knight. He managed to become an apprentice of a knight at the castle. It was one of his training sessions that you stumbled upon. Being a knight had always been his dream. Apparently his father and grandfather had been one, so it was in the blood. Or, it would have been if Sebastian hadn’t been so bad at everything. Truth was he wasn’t actually allowed to use a real sword, only wooden once. But he took one anyway. He thought that maybe he could improve faster if he got used to wielding one out of metal. Well, you got a first row view of how that went.

He felt so worthless. Why couldn’t he ever do something right? Why was he such a failure? No matter how hard he trained, he was barely able to hold the sword straight. Maybe he should give up being a knight altogether, it was hopeless after all. No one said anything, but he noticed the way everyone looked at him. They all thought the same thing, ‘why is he even here?’. How could he blame them? Even his own mentor didn’t believe in him.

You frowned, feeling terrible in how this boy had lost faith in all his dreams. Now you knew nothing of knighthood but you had a friend who did. You wished he could’ve come with but he needed to keep up with his training and besides, you were in yer another royal castle so the chances of anything happening to you was very low. So you decided to give Sebastian some tips; simple things you’ve picked up when watching your friend home his skills. Sebastian listened eagerly, desperate to improve. If there was any way he could become better than he wanted to hear it. That boy hung off every word that came out of your mouth. You did however assert that you were not an expert by any means and these where just things others have told you or what you’ve learned from observation. That didn’t matter though. Thanks to you he understood how to correct his stance and made it possible to hold up the sword- the issue he was struggling with earlier was solved!

During the entirety of the week you and your family were staying, you hung out with Sebastian every day. Every moment you didn’t have to be present out of curtsy you spent with him instead, which was much more pleasurable.

Sebastian was more than happy to have your company. Truth be told, he didn’t have any friends, good acquaintances maybe, but no one he’d be able to call a friend. He was also quite shy. It was to nice to finally have someone who believed in him, who encouraged and was patient with him.

At the end of the week, he had improved so much. It was hard to think he’s the same boy who could hardly even lift a sword. Sebastian was no master, far from it, but it was undeniable that he had become a lot better. Now he only had to hone his skills and he could fulfill his dreams when he became an adult.

The attitude against him changed as well. Before, the other students refused to interact with him unless they were forced to and they along with the knights made fun of him when they thought he couldn’t hear. Now, however, they approached him and wondered how he’d managed to improve so quickly and if he could lend some tips. Obviously he didn’t. They don’t deserve his kindness. Not after how they treated him. Sure, they never outright bullied him by shoving him around or anything but they might’ve as well.

Sebastian ran through the garden. He shouldn’t have since there’s definitely be a scolding coming his way if an adult saw, but he didn’t care. He needed to find you. He had to tell you about the praise he received form his teaching-knight after the day’s training. Before you met he never would have reached a compliment, it was a sign of the good fortune you brought.

His cheeks glowed red at the thought. You were so kind to him. He thought all royals were snobbish assholes who only cares about themself and their looks, now he knew he was wrong. You weren’t like that at all. You smiled, played with him and didn’t care if your dress got dirty. Of course, you preferred if it didn’t but you wouldn’t mind a scolding from your parents for once.

You were beautiful too. Almost too beautiful in his opinion. You were sure to attract a lot of suitors when you grew up. Sebastian’s heart stung. It was a strongly unpleasant feeling; imagining you beside someone else. Sebastian was young but not stupid, he understood what he was feeling. He shouldn’t be jealous, he knew that at the end of the day you were a princess and he was not even close to being a prince, and only a prince could marry you. Realistically he didn’t stand a chance. Unfortunately, his heart didn’t listen to his brain and he couldn’t stop the blossoming affection he felt for you.

“(Y/n)” he yelled when he saw you coming his way. You wore a nice dress that complimented your appearance. His heart thumped uncomfortably within his chest.

“Sebastian, I was just coming to see you.”

The boy scratched his neck. “Well, here I am!”

You laughed at his positive nature. Then your smile fell once you remembered the intent of your visit. “I actually came to see you..for a last time.”

“What?” Sebastian froze. Did he mishear you? No, your words were loud and clear so that meant… “You’re leaving?”

You sighed and nodded, “yes, my family has done the business they came for and we are to return home.”

“When?”

“This evening.”

You hated seeing him hurt. You wished you didn’t have to leave but you had no choice. This was always going to happen, this was not your home. You just weren’t prepared to make a great friend whom you could miss dearly back home.

“Oh. Okay...” Sebastian said in a low voice. His chipper mood was entirely destroyed in a minute.

That evening your belongings were loaded into a grand carriage. You took a seat on the soft cushions inside and scanned the outside form the window. Your parents were in a different carriage so you didn’t have to explain to them why you were staring outside so intensely.

You felt the carriage begin to move. You were really going home. Well, it’s not like you weren’t going to go home in the first place. This was always the plan. No matter how thoroughly you searched there was no sign of your friend. You sighed with a heavy heart. Not being able to see him hurt you too but you at least wanted to say goodbye.

And so you were moving in the direction known as home. Whilst you were thinking about the young knight-in-training, you saw a shadow at the edge of the forest. You leaned towards the window to get a better look and there he was, your friend! So he did want to say goodbye after all, although not in the most conventional way.

Sebastian’s breath was heavy and tired. He’d ran along the toad through the forest. He could feel the smal scrapes he’d gotten from branches(and the one time he fell over a root). It stung a little, however it was no comparison to how he felt inside. He gained and lost his best-and first- friend in the span of a week. And to be honest, you were a bit more than that to him.

He stared longingly at the carriage you were sitting in. He found himself hoping it would break down and you’d have to turn back around, which did not happen since the royal family’s belongings were only of the finest materials and craftsmen ship. Sebastian could only watch as you went further and further away, until you were nothing more than a dor in the horizon. Finally, he waved weakly. Though he was too late for you to be able to see it.

That evening he made a promise. Sebastian vowed to become stronger- better than any knight in the kingdom. Then and only then would he be honourable enough to flee to your kingdom and serve you there. It might take a very long time. But it was completely worth it if it was you.

You’ll see, he will be your knight one day.

[eelnoise]

something for two (nsfw!)

week 1 of small kinktober!

catboy!zoro x fem!reader

>your plan to wear that little dress to the bar works way better than you think.

cw: catboy going feral, biting, bleeding, breeding, zoro is a little rough with you, use of the nickname 'princess' an: with this fic I have officially been posting for a year! and to celebrate i'm going to attempt a few more this month in honor of the season changing. thank you all for being on this little journey with me! wc: 2.3k

The bar thrums with loud music and echoed chatter; easy distractions after the last several days of straying off the wayward marine skiffs that always seem to be chasing along after them.

Maybe it’s the handful of whiskey he’s already downed, but Zoro finds it easy to dismiss the hustle and bustle of the dance floor or the crowded bartender. He’s sated where he’s seated, quite content on minding his business while the other Strawhats enjoy themselves with whatever they’re busy doing.

He keeps a sharp eye out, though, for despite his light inebriation Zoro’s guard remains up. There isn’t any way to tell if any of these patrons are up to no good, and frankly somebody needs to keep the peace if something breaks out. That, and, someone very important to him has yet to show up.

Back on the ship, you had insisted on waiting and walking with Nami – who famously takes a while to get ready for a night out – and knowing that you can defend yourself if necessary on the short walk from the dock to the town, Zoro shrugs and heads off with the others, thinking nothing of it.

But you haven’t turned up yet. 

Part of him thinks to go searching for you, but each time he considers standing up your voice echoes in his mind, scolding him for getting lost or losing his way.

With a sigh, Zoro’s ears flatten and his tail twitches in annoyance as he finishes off another mug of whiskey.

When you walk into the bustling bar, it’s hard to find anyone you’re familiar with over the masses of people within. So you stick close to Nami, inching your way through sweaty, booze-scented bodies to find the bar for a much needed drink.

You had donned a short black, hip hugging dress at the behest of the navigator and – while it's easy to pretend that you had agreed in innocence, you, and a certain brooding catboy that you’re fond of, definitely know better.

Spotting Zoro at the far reaches of the establishment, you make a beeline toward the side of the bar where he’ll certainly get a good look at all of you. Wrangling Nami along, you squeeze between a few patrons and order a round of drinks for the two of you, making quite sure to bend over the wooden bar enough for the swordsman to see just a glimpse of your panties – his favorite pair – on display.

You aren’t playing dumb – you know exactly what you’re asking for – and the short of it is: you’re ovulating, and he can smell it.

Zoro's ears perk up at the familiar scent that hits his nose as you enter the bar. The sweet, musky aroma of your arousal wafts through the air, igniting a primal hunger deep within him. His eyes narrow as they lock onto you, drinking in the sight of your curves hugged by that sinfully short dress.

A low, possessive growl rumbles in his chest as you bend over the bar, putting yourself on lewd display. The urge to claim you, to rut into your heat and fill you with his seed, surges through his veins. His tail lashes behind him, betraying the cool, collected visage that he was trying to maintain.

In one fluid motion, he rises from his seat and stalks towards you, his movements predatory and purposeful. The crowd parts before him, sensing the dangerous aura rolling off the swordsman in waves – the same aura that has you smirking into your drink.

Zoro's breath hitches as your scent grows stronger, the feral need to breed you consuming his every thought. His stride is long and purposeful as he approaches, the hungry look in his eyes promising wicked things.

He crowds into your space, one hand coming to rest possessively on your shoulder as he leans in close as he raises his lips to your ear. "Nice dress," he rumbles, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. "Shame about what's about to happen to it."

The swordsman's hand slides from your hip to hook an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his firm body. You can feel the heat of him even through your clothes, his scent enveloping you and making your head swim with desire.

"Someone's feeling bold tonight," you purr, feeling his sharp nails nip along the fabric of your dress. 

Zoro's grip on your hip tightens, his hardening length pressing insistently against your lower back. "You know exactly what you're doing," he grumbles, his hot breath fanning across your neck. His free hand slides up your side, skimming the curve of your breast before cupping the back of your neck. "Well, two can play at that game, princess."

In a flash, Zoro spins you around and over his shoulder, making you squeal in sudden excitement. His strong arms wrap around you as he carries you away, picking the first door he sees, beyond which you're a bit relieved to see a single stalled bathroom. 

Zoro kicks the door shut behind him before setting you down on the edge of the sink, never breaking eye contact. His hands grip your thighs, pushing them apart as he steps between them. 

One hand slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt up around your waist as he leans in to nip at your neck. "I'm going to make you scream my name until everyone in this bar knows who you belong to," he promises darkly. A claw slides up your thigh, and in an instant your dress is sliced down the sides and the fabric of your panties is cut through.

"So needy, huh?" You coo, reaching up to scratch behind the moss green tuft of his ear with sickeningly sweet abandon. “All over one little dress?”

Zoro replies with something between a scoff and growl – like he isn't in the mood for your teasing anymore and that he's going to do something about it. His eye flashes with a dangerous glint. "You're the one who decided to parade around looking like a snack," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire. "Don't act surprised when I decide to take a bite."

He means it, too – because a large, clawed hand tightens around the underside of your thigh and presses it to your chest as the other hastily rustles his cock free. There's no patience in his actions, as soon as the tip of his dick throbs at your entrance, Zoro is shoving it past your folds and deep into your soaked pussy. 

Your mouth falls open and your toes curl, a sharp moan of arousal leaving your lips as he sheathes himself within you so hungrily. Zoro releases your thigh places his hands firmly on the wall either side of your head as his hips piston into you at a rhythm of his own, trapping you between them.

Zoro's hips snap forward, driving his thick cock deeper into your tight heat. “Gonna fuck a runt or two into ya’, since thats what ya seem to want." he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "Otherwise you wouldn’t be walkin’ around with your ass out.”

It feels like you're getting the wind knocked out of you, each stroke along your walls pulling enough of a hedonistic tune from your lungs to leave you breathless.

"F-fuck...," you gasp out and reach to grab hold onto his wrists, desperate for anything to keep you grounded.

"Shit, you're so tight," he groans, his head thrown back in ecstasy. "Gonna fill you up so good, make you feel so fucking full." Zoro's tail wraps around your thigh, the soft fur tickling your skin as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. His claws dig into your thighs, leaving deep, crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hips continue their relentless assault. His tongue invades your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as he fucks you senseless. His hips never stop moving, driving into you with a force that rattles the sink beneath you with each powerful thrust, the sound of your bodies slamming together drowning out the distant noise of the bar beyond.

You fidget a hand between the sweat of your bodies to find your clit, desperate but unable to keep up with Zoro's stamina. You gasp when he suddenly smacks your hand away with a feral growl down your throat before leaving your lips to nibble down your neck.

Zoro's teeth graze your skin, his sharp canines leaving a trail of stinging bites in their wake. "No touching," he barks, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "I'll take care of you."

He reaches between your bodies, his calloused fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubs the sensitive nub in tight, fast circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "Gonna make you cum on my cock," he pants, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "Gonna feel so good when you squeeze around me."

Zoro works your clit with expert precision, the rough pads of his fingers sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. He can feel your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, your body tensing as you climb higher and higher towards your peak.

“Fuck – I know it feels good, doesn’t it princess?" he growls, his hot breath fanning over your neck. "Made for my fucking cock, aren't you? Want me to give you a brat to prove it, right?"

"Yes!" You cry out, rolling your head back into his palm, "Show everyone I'm yours, Zoro, please!"

You feel your orgasm building, your body tensing as the pressure mounts. Zoro's fingers on your clit are relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Zoro, I'm–", your nails dig into his shoulders as your climax crashes over you. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls ripple and squeeze him into blind ecstasy, and the sound of you chanting – screaming his name takes him down with you.

He groans as your walls clamp down around him, your orgasm milking his cock. He bites down hard on your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh. Zoro's hips stutter as the taste of your blood fills his mouth, the coppery tang mixing with the musky scent of your arousal. It's intoxicating, driving him to fuck into you with renewed vigor.

He pounds into you with wild ferocity, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your fluttering walls. With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and stills, his cock twitching as he floods your womb.

Zoro's body shudders as he empties himself inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum. He releases your shoulder from his teeth, licking the excess blood from his lips before he collapses against you.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath, his softening cock still buried inside your cum-filled pussy. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the scent of your arousal mixed with his own.

As Zoro's breathing calms, he slowly pulls out of your still quivering pussy. Zoro leans back slightly, admiring his handiwork for a moment as he watches his seed drip from your well-used hole and with a wicked grin, he scoops up the excess cum from your thighs and pushes it back inside, making sure every last drop is accounted for.

Can't waste that.

"There, that's better," he says with a satisfied smirk. "Now you're nice and full, just like I promised."

He helps you off the sink, steadying you on your wobbly legs. His hands roam over your curves, caressing your skin as he takes in the sight of you - disheveled, full, but stunning. You're a sight to behold - rosy cheeks, swollen lips, and a satisfied glow that radiates from within. With a final, possessive squeeze to your ass, Zoro steps back. 

"Should get you cleaned up, huh?"

Zoro reaches for some paper towels, wetting them under the sink before turning back to you. With a gentle touch that belies his earlier ferocity, he carefully cleans the wound on your shoulder, wiping away the remaining droplets of crimson that lay dry on down your chest.

Once you're cleaned up, Zoro helps you with your dress and lends you his robe, tying it tightly around you, his hands lingering perhaps a bit longer than necessary. He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss before pulling slightly with another satisfied grin.

"Let's get out of here before someone comes looking for us," Zoro says, his voice low and husky. He takes your hand, intertwining your fingers with his as he leads you out of the bathroom.

As you step out into the dimly lit hallway, Zoro pulls you close, his arm wrapping around your waist possessively. He guides you in search of an exit through the still very much crowded bar, his grip on your waist firm and possessive. He keeps you close, as if afraid someone might try to steal you away.

Finally, you emerge into the cool night air, the bustle of the bar's patrons a distant memory. Zoro takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp air. He turns to you, his eye gleaming in the moonlight.

"Come on, let's get you back to the ship. Gotta put a real bandage on that bite." He leans down and scoops you into his arms. One of your hands comes to scratch behind his ears again lovingly, and he can’t resist leaning into more of your touch.

"Sorry about that, by the way." He adds as he follows your pointed finger in the direction of the docks. His voice, rough with exhaustion and satisfaction, comes with a soft purr in his chest that threatens to lull you to sleep there and then.

"Like you said," You reply, sleepily looking up at him with a smile and a small kiss to his shoulder. "It's what I wanted, right?"

[literatureloverx]

BSD MEN PLAYLISTS

Hi!❤️

I put this together pretty randomly, so the songs aren't in any particular order. You can imagine just the characters or them with their ideal type! darlings.

Enjoy!❤️

Fyodor Dostoevsky

The Neighbourhood - A little death

ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me

Army of Lovers - Crucified

Lana Del Rey - Ultraviolence

Lana Del Rey - Young and Beautiful

Lana Del Rey - Salvatore (orchestral version)

Lana Del Rey - Dark Paradise

Theme from Schindler’s List

Theme from Romeo and Juliet (1968)

Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake Theme

Tchaikovsky - Sleeping Beauty Waltz

Rossini - The Barber of Seville

Art of Noise - Moments In Love

=> FYODOR’S MASTERLIST

Dazai Osamu

Taylor Swift - Enchanted

Alexander Rybak- Fairytale

The Neighbourhood - Daddy Issues

Sade - Smooth Operator

David Kushner - Daylight

Raye - Escapism

Lady Gaga - Paparazzi

XOXO (Kisses Hugs) (feat. Pixel Hood)

Conan Gray - Family Line

Bad Omens - Like A Villain

Nbsplv - The Lost Soul Down

Labyrinth - All For Us

Queen - Bohemian Rhapsody

Falling In Reverse - Popular Monster

Cigarettes After Sex - Apocalypse

The Living Tombstone - My Ordinary Life

MGMT - Little Dark Age

=> DAZAI’S MASTERLIST

Nakahara Chuuya

Sia - Elastic Heart

William Singe - Love You Like Me

Måneskin - Gossip

Skillet - Awake and Alive

Lana Del Rey - Born To Die

Slipknot - Custer

Miley Cyrus - Angels Like You (Rock Version)

Pierce The Veil - A Match Into Water

Ariana Grande - Dangerous Woman

Chase Atlantic - Into It

Chase Atlantic - Drugs & Money

Chase Atlantic - Swim

Stefflon Don - 16 Shots

Zayn - Pillowtalk

Zayn - Tonight

=> CHUUYA’S MASTERLIST

Nikolai Gogol

Insane Clown Posse - In My Room

Britney Spears - If U Seek Amy

Britney Spears - Circus

Britney Spears - Toxic

Britney Spears - Baby One More Time

Lady Gaga - Bloody Mary

Lady Gaga - Bad Romance

Lady Gaga - Poker Face

Lady Gaga - Love Game

Lady Gaga - Judas

Maroon 5 - Animals

SZA - Kill Bill

Bea Miller - Playground

Melanie Martinez - Mad Hatter

Mother Mother - Hayloft II

(Nightcore) - Black Widow (Rock Version)

Autoheart - Stalker’s Tango

Bebe Rexha - I’m Gonna Show You Crazy

The Living Tombstone - My Ordinary Life

=> NIKOLAI’S MASTERLIST

TO VIEW ALL MY WORKS => HERE

[jweekgoji]

hellooo, i love your work, especially the yan! d-16!! i wanted to ask, could you pleasee write something for starscream from tfone? i think he'd be such a good yandere and i'd love to read some for himm, thank youu!

Yandere!Starscream/Reader [TFO/hcs]

tw: yandere behavior, power dynamics, very brief mentions of violence, jealousy, slightly masochistic!Starscream at the end. word count: ~1250 additional tags: cybertronian!reader, high guard!reader, gender-neutral!reader. a/n: I tried to keep it neutral, so I didn't make reader only a part of High Guard or a part of the main 4. There are some discussions from both sides, so I divided it to not confuse you. Thank you for your request~

Starscream is such an interesting yandere to be honest; it's almost sad that he has got less screen time than it was intentionally planned.

Yandere!Starscream is living for praise. Basically, like the most if not all Starscream variants in different universes, he's a sucker for a compliment or two, especially if it's from the person he deeply admires.

↑ TFO!Star is a leader of the high guard, he was used to working closely with the 13 Primes, and it is no surprise how other bots like B-127, who had the chance to know about this time period, are absolutely devoted to him. He's probably been on par with Sentinel before the latter became the leader of Iacon.

>> Regular Cybertronian!Reader

↑ But there should be a good, clear line between being a fan and being an unbearable. If you get too close, too pushy or talkative with him, and he just barely knows about you, Starscream might as well just shut you up completely so you wouldn't bother him anymore. Yandere or not, he's not falling in love easily; even then, he's not shy to use force whenever he seems like it.

That is because Yandere!Starscream is very careful about who gets into proximity with him, and with an attitude of a wild cat, he's quick to snap at you the very first moment you try to do something, even remotely reminding him of suspicious.

↑ Yandere!Starscream is a paranoid leader, in some way. It doesn't matter if you're a part of the high guard or the newcomer that just received your cog only some hours ago. It's difficult to get his trust, and it's more difficult to even try to calm his mind.

>> High Guard!Reader

↑ I feel like, apart from praise, another way to get his spark is to actually listen to what he orders you to do. That is something they both share with Sentinel, but unlike the False Prime, Starscream is not as much of a control freak as Sentinel is.

↑ Yandere!Starscream has to know that everything goes well. Because he is actually concerned about the well-being of the group, but more importantly, he doesn't want anything to happen with his lover.

↑ He knows how dangerous exploring the surface is, and every time they're trying to sabotage the meetings between quintessons and the new ruler, the chances of getting caught, imprisoned, and even executed are incredibly high.

↑ Yandere!Starscream is especially protective towards his high guard!reader, but I do not see him overprotective to the point he doesn't let you leave their hiding place and force you stay inside instead.

↑ He's been leading the high guard for 50 or so cycles, and even though they had to resort to hiding most of the time, it's still impressive that they hold back for so long. Low on energon, far away from their home, and only themselves to rely on. Starscream might not be the perfect leader he wants to look like, but he's aware of how strong his comrades are, and you're no exception. 

↑ In my opinion, he's pretty bearable yandere if you know him long enough. Sure, he has his moments or two, where a wrong glance in your way from the others might scream 'right in front of ME? how dare you!' in his head, leading it all to more conflicts and unnecessary violence. But he's an old, war-torn mech, a veteran, with the biggest enemy which is his own tongue, sometimes.

↑ Yandere!Starscream with his high guard!reader is possessive. It starts with the small things first. From the time you first joined the high guard, you were his. His subordinate, first, his right hand. It's hard for him to let go of the fact that he warmed up to you. He's not entirely heartless or cold, as someone might think, but he's not the one to show any sort of affection.

↑ Another reason for him to get more agitated and annoyed once D-16 challenges his authority. Not only that will hurt his ego, but it will also shatter the image he worked so hard to build up. Such an embarrassing sight, watching your now ex-leader beaten up by a young, inexperienced bot who only left the mines for a day or two.

↑ Megatron should be lucky because you might actually prevent a few murder attempts by talking Starscream out of it. Somehow. Yaay?

>> Regular Cybertronian!Reader

↑ But you cannot convince me Starscream doesn't have at least a tiny thing for bots who are able to put him down at his place.  You know, similar to how Rhinox scared off poor Dinobot when the latter got too high of himself, hehe.

↑ Yandere!Starscream doesn't even pay more than a few seconds of his attention towards regular Cybertronian!Reader. He already has enough of troubles on his shoulders, and now, he has to deal with some colorful bunch of gobots?? Primus, what a life.

↑ Yandere!Starscream might act all high and mighty in front of you, given his high position and connection to the Primes in the past. A walking legend right in front of you. It will be so amusing to see his face redden, a pair of wings bristling at the sight of some youngling being so ignorant and disrespectful.

↑In some sort of way, you're a challenge to him. An unexpected, bratty and with a clear lack of interest towards the older bot. It's totally not what he wanted, expecting at least some amount of fear for your and your friend's well-being after the high guards caught you.

↑ How surprised he was when you answered him with the same sharpness. The bright scarlet optics widen for a moment, then narrow. Oh, the audacity...! Your friends can only stare at you anxiously, glancing back and forth, when suddenly, your conflict only just flares up, and now a fight is all but inevitable.

���All that counts is the strength of one bot over another, to quote his own words. As you pin the poor bot to the cold floor, feeling his digits desperately digging into your heated metal. You notice nothing more than surprise, a hint of fear perhaps, but this fleeting display of submission is simply impossible to ignore.

↑ Yandere!Starscream, after the breaking point, is especially attentive to you. He constantly looms somewhere behind your back, watching you closely like a hawk. It's hard to read his true motive behind the picture of indifference and skepticism, but some part of him really wants to help you.

↑ You are very careless in his opinion, naive in most decisions, and desperate for his guidance. Yandere! Starscream is the only bot in the old high guard who can criticize you. Otherwise...how dare they say anything in your direction!

↑ He can play nice in front of you if he wants to, only to try to attack you at the most unexpected moment, anticipating that finally this time he can repay you in kind for the shame you've made him feel. But at the end of the day, it's hard to know if he's doing it just to come crawling back to you on his knees begging for forgiveness or if he finds some kind of strange pleasure in it.

Freak.

[oceansssblue]

SW REQUESTS:

"Would love to see a Wolffe x reader fic where the AFAB reader is injured in battle, Comms him and then their Comms get jammed and he's just freaking the hell out. Love some angst of him carrying her back to a ship and losing his mind over it"

Some minor alterations but I'm SO HAPPY with how this one came out! I love wolffe and there aren't that many fics about him. Do recommend your favourites! Xx, sky.

"RADIO SILENT" –WOLFFE/F READER

WARNINGS: BATTLE, WOUNDS&BLOOD, ANGST AND FLUFF. 📩💔💖

Halsakaa is a nightmare. The Republic hasn't been able to redirect more forces to the Outer Rim planet to help you; and your troops are struggling to keep the droids battalions at bay. It honestly feels as though the Republic –and the Jedi– have abandoned you to your wrath; no-one coming to this remote location in the galaxy to save you. The destine of your own life, and the lifes of your soldiers, are solely in your hands. And you'd give everything for them, even sacrifice yourself if you have to. After so many experiences together, for almost three years straight now, they have becomed such an important part of you it feels as if you have ingrained every single one of them in your soul. You know you should'nt be so attached to them; Master Ploo quietly reminds you from time to time –though you know he's not exactly indifferent either–. The wolfpack is his own just as they are yours. Yours. Growing up as Jedi you haven't had this kind of... ownership over anything but your saber. Obviously, you don't see the clones as something you can posses, use; but they do belong to you in some sense, and in that way, it's your responsability to command them, to take care of them. And you... love them. It's a dangerous word for a Jedi. But it's the truth. It is the reason why, right now, your soul aches. Each death is a strike right to your heart. But how can you see them any different, when they are such loyal friends? Such fierce soldiers, who fight and die selflessly for the freedom of other citizens in the galaxy, a freedom that hadn't been given to themselves?

Your dark emerald green lightsaber flies in your hands, deflecting one bolt after the other one. Sweat makes your usually comfortable jedi robes stick to your body; minor scratches and wounds tingling painfully at the friction of the fabric. It doesn't make you move any slower, though; you feel unstopable jumping from a cluster of droids to another, the hum of your saber following you around while you slash through your enemies with persistent focus and skill. General Ploo is doing his own thing on the other side of the battlefield; your clone troops split in half to defend both sides of Halsakaa's capital.

You don't know how much longer you can hold this off. All of you have been trained for this, and you're used to drawing strength from the Force, increasing your usual endurance; but even you are feeling exhausted, muscles straining like painful cords, and the thing about the droids is that they never tire out. You know this has to end eventually. Right now, Master Ploo's orders are to hold on til some other battalion can come to your rescue –the other option abandoning Halsakaa to the separatists, which would cause a disastrous impact on the Republic–; though you don't know when that will be. It may be days, or weeks. A month, maybe two. Even with the system of rest-and-takeover you've got established with the clones you're afraid you're going to lose.

The night falls, and some troopers fall back into the delicate safety of the makeshift camp, a decent distant away from the battlefield; they'll try to shut the eye for some hours before replacing other brothers positions again. You keep fighting, completely exhausted but knowing perfectly well that your presence in the battlefield equals the force of ten clones; pushing through your energy limits and fiercely holding your own.

Hours pass, and the two suns of Halsaaka rises again; your tired eyes getting used to the new light while you keep slashing droids with your saber.

"We're pushing them further away from the South Door" Master Ploo's calm voice picks up through your coms. "I have been informed that the 442th have been dispatched in our way. They will join us in two sunrises".

You can't help but give a relieved sigh. The 104th have worked with the 442th more than once in the past. They are heavy infantry; and you wouldn't say no to some of that now. Any fresh soldier would be a welcomed addition. You can see the strain on your troopers; though none of them would dare say a word out loud.

"Copy that" you answer through your channel with your Master and the 104th's commander and sergeant. "I'll feel as happy as a kid with a popsicle when I see that green stripped armour along our light gray one".

You dodge a shot and use the Force to push a wave of droids to the side; your troopers quickly using the oportunity to blast them down.

Wolffe's deep husky voice pipes up in a tiny, well-humoured comment.

"Still a kid yourself, General" he teases you, voice still firm and contradictionally serious.

Your lips pull up on a tiny smirk.

"We can't all age in a blink of an eye, my dear Commander" you chirp back.

The coms pick up his raspy chuckle before the frequency goes back to silence.

The droids make way for something bigger and you groan under your breath. The first bolts make the earth beneath your feet shake slightly; orders and screams shouted all around you.

"Bad news, boys" you open the general coms this time so everyone gets updated in this very unwelcomed surprise. "We've got some spiders".

You focus yourself on them; flying through the battlefield and jumping on one droid after the other one, sinking your saber into their red sensors or cutting off their laser canions. Then, when you're in the middle of jumping off of one, a surprisingly well aimed bolt crosses the air and hits you; and you fall down with blood quickly soaking your side, staining the fabric of your Jedi clothes.

"Fuck" you mutter out loud, jaw clenching til your teeth hurt while you stand up quickly and deflect another bold with your saber, trying to cope with the pain. You open your private frequency with Sinker and quickly inform of your state.

"Sinker, I've been hit" you grit between your teeth while you kill the droid responsible for your wound and step back between your troopers to cover yourself momentarily.

You pull your clothes up and quickly glance down at the wound. Usually the bolts inmediately cauterizes the wounds; but this hadn't been a normal droid, but a combat-J1, with it's weapon specifically designed to make the most damage to human's skin without it's predecessors side-efects. The apparently less dangerous bolts are quite the opposite; dividing into smalller ones that diverts into different directions when hitting a surface with enough resistance. Right now, there's only one entrance wound on your right side; but you know they may have carved more than one path inside of you, making it a life or death situation depending on how lucky you are.

"How bad is it?" He asks, slowly but effectively advancing through the droid lines towards you, an easy person to locate with the shine of your emerald saber.

You grunt in pain, hand soaked in dark scarlet blood, and take a deep breath in, knowing what you need to do for now.

"Bad" you just answer, carefully lowering your own saber towards the wound "It's a shot from a J1. I'm going to cauterise the wound for now, but I might go into shock in the next hour. Just a heads up."

You chuckle weakly, and then carefully graze your lightsaber against the wound. The skin quickly hardens and clots; the smell of the burn quickly reaching your nose. Your knees buckle while you swallow your scream of pain; legs shaking weakly and tears springing to your eyes while you finish putting a momentarily solution to your wound. At least you won't die from blood loss for now.

"Maker, General" Sinker is suddenly there, taking a strong hold of your opposite hip to stabilize you. "That really doesn't look good. You should go back to camp, Sir".

You find solace in his strength for a minute before rightening yourself again and getting ready to move. You close your eyes and center yourself with the Force. You're hurt, but you're still in the middle of open fire; you need to swallow the pain and dizziness down and hold on.

You give Sinker a firm nod.

"I'm letting this side of the battlefield on your hands, then" you tell him, his own back inmediately straightening too under such responsability. "Just one more night and we'll have reinforcements with us tomorrow".

Sinker nods in understanding, appreciating your words of encouragement. He quickly orders Comet to help you get safely back to camp; while he inmediately takes the role of leader and commands your part of the 104th clone troops. You need to protect the North Door of Halsaaka while Master Ploo and Wolffe take care of the South.

One arm around Comet's shoulders and finding strength in the Force, you quickly start your dangerous way back to safety. Even though Comet's alert with his own blaster and you're still deflecting bolts with your saber, you're vulnerable now. You just hope you're both able to make it.

You open your coms to inform of the new situation.

"I've been hit with a J1" you warn Master Ploo and Wolffe. You don't like how weak your voice sounds. "Wolffe, I..."

There's a small explosion right beside you; and the force of it pushes both you and Comet to the ground. You whimper in pain, but quickly grab him and push the two of you back up, resume walking –more like stumbling forward–. You try the coms again, wanting to tell Wolffe you've left Sinker with command before retiring for the night; you grumble in irritation when you see your com device has detached from your forearm and has been left abandoned behind.

"Do you have your com?" You ask Comet.

His voice is barely audible under the protection of his helmet.

"My audio appears to be broken after that last fall, General."

You sigh, tired. There's nothing you can do about it now. Sinker will communicate with them sooner or later.

"Let's just make it back to safety then" you say, and Comet nods diligently.

You'll just focus on not collapsing to the ground before reaching camp.

���••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wolffe's heart stutters inside his chest when he hears your voice in the coms. You're always strong, always fierce; something he had admired from the very first time he had had the chance to work under your command. He had been cold towards you back then; not purposedly harsh against you, but not friendly either. You hadn't cared. When one of his men had pointed out to you it wasn't personal, but just Wolffe's reserved, unpolished personality, you had answered unbothered and completely understanding. He could still hear those words in his head; "I get it. I'm a stranger that holds the lifes of his brothers in her hands. None of you know me yet; trust is earned. I hope I will with time. I'd like us all to be comfortable with each othef. But if not, it doesn't matter. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to fight. I'm here to protect people; and I'm here to direct my assigned troops as best as I can in order to achieve the best results with the minor number of casualties. If Commander Wolffe opens up to me I'd be honored. If not, I'm sure we could still be good comrades in this war". He still remembers the way you had tilted your chin upwards; staring defiantly at the clones in front of her, completely unaware of him standing not so far away at her back. "Now, I believe there's still some preparations needed for Jaal; and we're taking off in an hour". With that not-so-subtle signal that the conversation had ended, the troopers around you had quickly fell back to place; and Wolffe had silently followed Master Ploo Koo towards you. "Look at you, little warrior" the older Jedi had told you, a pleasant smile wrinkling the corner of his covered eyes. "Already displaying such good lidership traits". You had turned around in surprise; so many life presences around you, and experiencing a rush of your own emotions, you hadn't been aware of both of their presence. Your cheeks had flushed slightly; though that same defiant glint hadn't left your eyes. "Master" you had slightly bowed towards him. "You see me with good eyes" you had smiled softly at him, in a clearly opened affectionate way Wolffe wasn't used to seing in other Jedi. "Just having a chat with the troops". Master Ploo had chuckled quietly and pointed at him with a hand gesture; Wolffe quickly taking a step forwards towards them. "I have just had a quick meeting with the Council. Commander Wolffe will update you on my behalf, as I need to go have a word with the pilots" Master Ploo had glanced back at him pointedly. "If he'd be kind enough...". Wolffe had inmediately nodded, firmly. He had high respect towards that specifical Jedi; and he didn't usually hold others in such high regards. "Of course, sir" he had then turned towards you. "General, if you can follow me to the strategy room...". You had firmly hold his stare for a few seconds; and the quiet inquisitive gaze had felt as if the young Jedi Warrior had scanned his own very soul. Wolffe had had his first tingle of that uncomfortable but curious feeling back then; a feeling that had only increased with the following years. Nowadays, he...

Wolffe cleared his thoughts and focused on battle. Your voice had sound weak and tired, but you were perfectly capable of holding yourself, and this wasn't the first time you had been hurt before. He had actually patched you more than once in the past and... And then you mentioned a J1, and whispered his name, and there was a loud ringing sound through the coms that sounded too close to an explosion for his comfort and... And the sounds died, leaving nothing more than radio silence. And Wolffe, going against everything he had learnt and was trained for, pannicked.

"General?" His frantic, afraid voice was enough for Master Ploo to focus his attention on him, a graze at his Force life enough to make him understand his commander's feelings. "General. Come on. Com in, kid..."

There was only static.

Wolffe's heart pumped faster, adrenaline shooting through his veins. His hands trembled. A knot formed in his throat, slowly chocking his voice. He never broke down. He never broke down, but...

"Cyar'ika" he begged in a whisper. "Please, please answer and tell me you're okay".

He still got no answer back from you, and he felt his soul hurt.

Master Plo's hand suddenly renched him back into reality; a comforting wave of what could only be his Force washing over him. Wolffe turned his face towards him. The Jedi watched him in understanding.

"I can feel your turmoil. It is such it's difficult for me to focus on anything else. You are in no state to stay in the battlefield" he told him, cautiously gentle. "If my padawan has been gravely injured someone has probably helped her return to camp. You must go and make sure she's okay".

Even if Wolffe wanted nothing more than to start of a run and find her, he still hesitated in front of his General. He was a soldier. A commander. He couldn't leave his place just because he had stupidly, oh so fucking stupidly, fallen in love with her...

Master Plo squeezed his shoulders once. He knew him so well.

"Go" he insisted. "That's an order".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wolffe quickly wrenched the flimsi excuse of a door of the tent open. He had gone to the makeshift infirmary first; his doctor quickly informing him of the state of his Jedi, and where he could find her resting at the moment. "A dangerous wound, but surprisingly stable" he had told him while he took care of the wound of a fellow brother. "She's a tough one, our General. It was a good idea to use her own lightsaber as a cauterizer. She wouldn't have probably made it all the way back here otherwise". That probability had made Wolffe tremble.

His own eyes quickly scanned the Jedi's state now. She was laying down on a rucksack, unusually clad in just a sport top and his Jedi pant's; outer robes discarded and clean bandages effectively wrapping around her lower torso, with just a small amout of blood transpairing on her side. Her lightsaber had been carefully placed at her side. Her hair was untied and a mess; some sticking to her dirtied face and some falling around freely behind her. Despite her evident exhaustion, Wolffe hand't ever been so happy to see her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Commander?" You asked in a surprised voice, slowly and carefully propelling some of your weight in your elbows in order to see him better. "Shouldn't you be back on the battlefield?"

Your face quickly changes into a deep, worried frown as you scan him up and down quickly.

"Are you hurt too, Wolffe?"

His heart clenches again. He steps inside the tent, slowly falling down on his knees besides you, and closes the door.

"No" he simply answers, observing you quietly.

You're completely lost. He's looking at you in a different way. He... Feels different, in the Force. Usually he feels much more reserved, almost as if he had learnt how to shield his emotions from a Jedi; however this... This felt raw.

"I'm afraid I don't understand" you chuckle and then wince at the way the movement tugs at your wound, a bit nervously now. You pointedly look at him. "You wouldn't be here just because you got worried, right?"

Wolffe's expression doesn't change.

"You went radio silent" he answers, quietly.

You arch an eyebrow.

"Our coms died" you explain, still confused about his attitude.

Wolffe can't help himself. He reaches forward and carefully grasps your chin in his right hand; eyes boring into yours. You gasp in surprise and can't do anything else but stare at his breathetaking mismatched eyes in response; emotions inside of you swirling dangerously with his move.

"You were hurt" he enfasises, almost as if he's trying to tell you something else, something you're not quite understanding. "You were hurt, and you went radio silent".

Oh. Oh. He thought you might be... You might have...

"Oh, Wolffe" his name is an understanding, affectionate sigh on your tempting lips. "I'm okay".

He doesn't want empathy. Doesn't want that almost condescending type of comfort. He needs to make sure you're still here; with him. He needs to exteriorize all this raw, painful emotions he has been keeping hidden for so fucking long, and he wants you so fucking bad it makes his mind and soul burn...

He bends down over you, holding himself against one hand proped against the floor while the other one tugs your neck forward, and then he's kissing you –fiercely, dominantly, real–; he kisses the same way he fights and a surprised but delighted whimper of a moan can't help but escape from your lips, hands quickly clinging onto his shoulders desperately.

You... You hadn't thought you'd end up having this. With you being a Jedi and him being such a perfect, respected clone Commander, you had always brushed your wants aside and...

"Wolffe" you whisper, trembling inevitably when his plush warm mouth moves from your lips to the side of your neck, biting gently. "Wolffe, I...".

He breathes and looks up at your face again; cupping your cheek with his right hand and observing your reaction with his eyes shimmering in needs and desire.

His Force signature blasts. He loves you. He loves you, and you...

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum" you whisper, risking it all and giving your heart to him.

Tears blur your sight. They're not sad tears; they're not happy either. They're a mix of emotions that make you feel like a mess and...

Wolffe sighs. You love him. You love him, and the fact that you've told him in Mando'a...

He closes his eyes and gently presses his forehead against yours; finding solace and peace in your embrace, in this Keldabe. His eyes then flutter open, and he holds your face in both of his hands, slowly joining your lips in a kiss much more sweet and unhurried than those from before. You hum, surrendering in complete bliss.

He caresses your smuged cheek with his thumb, taking some of the dirt and exhaustion of the battlefield away.

His voice is a secret whisper as well.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyare".

Your fingers tug at the hair at the back of his neck, and you crash your lips onto his.

You imprint those five mandalorian words in your soul.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This one was a blast to write! Felt the emotions so raw myself tooo bfbfbsfb this two are so cute. I hope I get to write more of Wolffe in the future, I really like the guy.

Did some minor alterations –like him not been the one to actually carry you back to safety– but it kinda wrote itself and I'm happy with how it came out. Hope you liked it as well!

Also, dear friends, if you ever want to request something longer than a one-shot, you're able to do so as well (if the plot goes accordingly or I find it expandable). I'm not writing whole stories, but a short one of maybe 2-5 chapters max would be okay.

Stay tunned for the next one yall. It will be a little angsty one with Echo, and then we'll have a flirty fun one with Crosshair.

Xx,

Sky.

Back to main masterlist here!

[nostalgicnarrator]

Outlaws and Lawmen

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Word Count: 5311

Parings: Thorn X Bilbo

Description:

Throin Oakenshield, law man, finds himself facing an outlaw, the likes of which he’s never seen before.

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1 / 2 / 2.5 / 3

⚠️Warning⚠️

Brief mention of extreme violence. Gun fights and death.



Note:

Listen, I don’t know what to tell you except I really wanted to write this for whatever reason. I was inspired, mostly by @shurikthereject and more specifically this post, and this post by them. Go give them love please if you haven’t already. Have fun and tell me if I messed up.

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The sun was just beginning to rise over the small, dusty town of Ered, casting long shadows on the wooden buildings that lined the main streets.

The cool breeze rolled through the growing town, it carried familiar scents of leather, horses, and the distant aroma of freshly baked bread.

Thorin Oakenshield, the town’s sheriff, adjusted his hat and took a deep breath, savoring the calmness of the early hour.

Thorin’s family had long been intertwined with the law, a legacy stretching back further than he or the rest of the town could really remember.

His father and grandfather before him had both worn the very badge now clipped to his chest.

though they were not the only to carve their own legends into the town, they were the only ones who’s legends lined with mystery’s.

His grandfather had been one of the most revered sheriffs the town had ever known, a man who brought order with a steady hand and an unyielding sense of justice.

But he had not been as invincible as he pretended. He’d upset the wrong people, his throat slit in the dead of night, his body found cold and lifeless in the alley behind what was now Bombur’s saloon.

No one had ever discovered who was responsible. The killer’s identity became the stuff of ghost stories whispered around campfires, a shadow in the town’s memory, known only as “The defiler.”

Thorin’s father fared no better. He vanished without a trace while leading a posse into the hills, chasing after, well Thorin didn’t know.

What he did know was that his father’s badge showed up and left in Thorin’s home, there was no explanation,

And as the weeks turned into months, Thorin's hope dwindled to a painful acceptance. His father was assumed dead, claimed by the wilds or worse.

Left with little choice, and after a little convincing, Thorin took the badge. He was allowed to wear it and wore it he did, making him one of the youngest sheriffs in the territory.

Now, it was his turn to uphold the family honor in a town that seemed forever on the brink of the unexpected. Ered had always attracted the strange and the dangerous, and lately, there’d been no shortage of both.

The sudden influx of outlaws had become increasingly frustrating, bands of desperados and renegades testing their resolve, pushing at the edges of the peace Thorin strived for.

Thorin, by now, had dealt with his fair share of trouble. He’d faced down outlaws who thought his town was an easy mark, stood toe-to-toe with gunmen who underestimated him, and outsmarted those who tried to outgun him.

His reputation grew quickly and he was known as the quickest draw and for having a sharp mind, at least when it came to dealing with outlaws.

His name began to spread beyond Ered, most rumors of him were just that; rumors. but if the whispers in saloons and campfires across the state helped in keeping his town safe he didn’t mind.

Most were overly dramatic stories, some being entirely false and others just being exaggerated. But said stories were enough to make some think twice about causing trouble in his town.

Before that, Ered was just another dot on the map. But it quickly became known as Thorin Oakenshield’s town.

A place where the law was upheld not just by the sheriff’s badge, but by the man who wore it. Outlaws might ride into other towns to cause trouble, but not here. Not under Thorin’s watch.

Still, even as he took in the quiet morning, a familiar tension settled in his gut. The calm wouldn’t last; it never did. And today felt like one of those days when trouble was bound to find its way to his door.

And even as Thorin strode down the main street, nodding to or saying hello to the townspeople who greeted him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing.

The air seemed thicker today, the shadows just a bit darker. He greeted his deputy, Dwalin, as he stepped inside the sheriff’s office.

“Mornin’, Thorin,” Dwalin grunted, adjusting his gun belt. His face, usually calm, held a hint of tension.

“Morning, Dwalin… Feels like a strange day, doesn’t it?” Thorin replied.

Dwalin nodded. “Aye, it does. Maybe it’s the storm coming in from the east, but I’ve got a feelin’…”

Thorin chuckled. “You always have a feeling, Dwalin. Let’s hope it's just the weather this time.”

But deep down, Thorin knew better than to ignore his instincts or those of his deputy. On more than one occasion either had been provided right.

And if they were both feeling it, then something really bad might just happen. Before he could dwell on it anymore, Bofur, the always cheerful owner of the general store, came through the door.

“Sheriff! Morning!” Bofur called, his usual grin tight fake, it seemed out of place on his usually jovial face.

Thorin nodded and made his way over. “Why mornin’ Bofur, everything alright?”

“Well, …no sheriff, It’s my cousin. I’ve been trying to get him help and, well he’s out on his own again.”

Thorin sighed. Bifur, maybe this is what his gut was so upset about. Bifur had lost his mind a few years ago after an accident.

The old prospector was a kind fellow most days but, when he got to wondering, there was no telling.

Bifur often wandered off into the hills, he never got much farther than that. “Alright, I’ll go check on him. Might be good to get out of town for a bit.” Throin patted Bofur on the back.

“Thank ya sheriff, send him to my general store or to my brothers saloon.”

Dwalin gave him a nod as they quickly gathered their stuff. Thorin was first to mount his horse, setting off towards the hills.

The wind picked up as dark clouds gathered on the horizon. He didn’t like leaving town with a feeling like this hanging in the air, but Bofur’s cousin needed checking on, and that was that.

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The midday sun hung high over Ered, casting its relentless heat down onto the dirt streets. A breeze brushed through the town making trees rustle kindly.

The townsfolk moved about their business; women chatting outside the general store, children running past the schoolhouse, and a few men lounged outside Bombur's saloon.

Then, a low rumble of hooves sounded in the distance, growing louder as they approached. Heads turned, eyes narrowing against the glare to see a group of riders on the horizon.

At the head of the pack was a man with a dark brown hat, caramel colored curls wearing a green shirt and a dark poncho around his shoulders. A white bandanna covered his face nicely.

Not everyone could immediately recognize the leader, but the few that did knew him as Bilbo Baggins, the outlaw.

He was a new name to the outlaws list, steadily climbing the wanted list, now he sits near the top, he’d robbed banks, and towns. He’s known to be armed and dangerous.

He never misses, he hasn't ever each time he’s shot a gun. Bilbo rode in with a confidence that would send a chill down the spine of any onlooker.

Three other men rode behind him, all armed and faces hidden behind masks of different colors and patterns.

Beside Bilbo was his right hand man, no name was ever given to the man, and none ever will. He always wore a purple shirt with a dark bandanna around his face and a black hat blocking the rest.

Bilbo’s right hand man was known as a wiry man with a wicked glint in his eye, he seemed to scan the buildings with sharp interest, his fingers twitching near the revolver at his side.

The riders came to a stop in the middle of the street, kicking up clouds of dust. Bilbo’s eyes swept over the faces that stared back at him.

There were wide-eyed women who clutched their children tightly, men tensing up, hands edging closer to their gun belts if they had one. He chuckled under his breath.

“Good afternoon, folks!” Bilbo called out lazily, he looked relaxed and calm. “How’s everyone doin’? Ain’t it just a lovely day? Be a damn shame if somethin’ were to spoil it.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. The tension in the air was thick, almost like a coiled spring ready to snap. Someone had the nerve to draw and before the man could fully raise his hand a shot rang out.

The man dropped his gun and held his now bleeding hand to himself. Bilbos right hand man had his gun pointed at the idiot who thought it was a good idea to grab his gun.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you… see my partner here, he’s got an itchy finger.” Bilbo chuckled softly.

At the edge of the crowd, Dís stood with her sons, Fíli and Kíli. Her instincts told her to fight, keep her children safe. And she desperately wanted to listen to it.

But she couldn’t, not without getting someone killed. She held her sons back as they stepped forward, their own hands reaching for their guns.

With a gentle squeeze on their shoulders she got their attention “Stay calm,” she whispered to them, her eyes never leaving Bilbo.

Bilbo swung off his horse, strolling leisurely towards the bank. He nodded to Glóin as he stepped outside.

Bilbo’s gang slowly followed, spreading out behind him. “Now, I’m not here to hurt anyone,” Bilbo continued. “At least, not if I don’t have to. But my boys and I, we’re in need of some funds, and I’m sure your good banker here won’t mind making a generous donation.”

Glóin stepped forward, his face pale but not scared. “You won’t get away with this,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Bilbo laughed, a sound that made the townsfolk flinch. The laugh was too sweet for what was happening. “Oh, I think I will. See, I’ve got more men hidden around your little town- rooftops, alleys, you name it. You make a move, and they’ll turn this place into a shooting gallery.”

A wave of fear swept through the crowd. They glanced nervously at the rooftops and shadows, imagining invisible gunmen lurking there, ready to unleash hell.

Fíli and Kíli tensed beside their mother, their eyes flicking towards the distant hills where their uncle had ridden not long ago. They needed to get him, now.

Dís felt the tremor of fear in her sons, and in that moment, she made a decision. She tilted her head towards Fíli and whispered urgently, “Fíli, you and Kíli go. Ride fast, find your uncle, bring him back.”

Fíli hesitated, his eyes wide. “But, Ma-”

“Go!” she hissed, “I’ll handle this!”

Before the boys could argue further, Dís stepped forward, raising her hands high. “Wait! Wait!” she shouted, drawing all eyes, including Bilbo’s, to her.

Bilbo cocked his head, curiosity piqued. “Howdy ma’am, pleasure to meet ya, who might you be?”

Dís forced a smile, stepping into the open. “Just a mother, hoping to keep her children safe,” she said, voice steady even as her heart raced. “You say you’re not here to hurt anyone- then prove it. Let these people go about their day. You want money? Take it and leave.”

Bilbo’s grin widened. He sauntered closer, he began to prowl around her. “Now, now, that’s quite a proposal. So what makes you think you can negotiate with me?”

“Because, I know you’re bluffing,” Dís said, her eyes blazing with a defiant spark. “If you had as many men as you say, you wouldn’t need to make threats. You’d have already started shooting.”

A hush fell over the street. For a moment, even Bilbo looked surprised, caught off guard. Behind Dís, Fíli and Kíli took the chance to slip away, moving silently through the crowd, unnoticed by the gang members whose focus was entirely on their mother.

Bilbo glared at her and pointed up behind her to a rooftop where a gunman was, he had a shotgun aimed at her “are you sure…? My dear you seemed to have misjudged.”

Dís glared back “one extra gunner-“ Bilbo points at another on the bell tower of the church. “Two then, show me another and I’ll believe you.”

Bilbo’s smile slowly faded. “You’re a sharp one, ain’t you?” he said, his tone darkening. “Maybe too sharp for your own good.”

Dís’s heart pounded, but she held her ground, she pulls give her sons all the precious seconds they needed, no matter what.

Fíli and Kíli had at that point reached the edge of town, a horse waited for them. Without a word, they mounted and Fíli spurred it into a gallop, racing towards the hills.

Bilbo’s eyes flicked to the fleeing boys just as they vanished from sight. His smile returned. “Looks like we’re gonna have some fun after all.”

He turned back to his men. “Inside the bank!” he barked. “And make it quick. We’ve got company coming.”

The gang moved into action, shoving Glóin into the building as they went inside the bank. He protested loudly. Loud enough to still hear him outside.

Dís watched as her sons disappeared over the ridge, a silent prayer on her lips that they would reach Thorin in time.

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The hills outside Ered were grassy and scattered rocks, with the occasional stubborn tree jutting its way up.

Thorin and Dwalin had their horses trotting along slowly, scanning for any sign of Bifur. The old prospector had a habit of wandering off into the wilderness, especially after his accident.

The poor man had a hatchet stuck in his head, Óin says it’s a miracle that he could even still walk. Bifur’s mind seemed lost most days, chasing shadows only he could see.

“There,” Dwalin grunted, pointing ahead with a nod. A figure sat on a rocky outcrop, silhouetted against the bright sky. It was Bifur.

He looked as wild as he always does, muttering to himself as he gazed into the distance. Thorin began to wonder if he was lucid enough to sign.

Thorin and Dwalin swong themselves from their horses and approached cautiously, not wanting to startle Bifur.

As they drew closer, Thorin could make out Bifur’s soft mumbling. He was rattling off gibberish nonsense that always seemed to only make sense to him.

“Bifur,” Thorin called gently, stopping a few paces away. “It’s Thorin. Bofur sent me, your cousin? He’s worried about you.”

Bifur turned slowly, his eyes wide and unfocused. For a moment, he didn’t seem to recognize Thorin, his gaze flicking between the sheriff and the deputy beside him.

Thorin took another step closer to Bifur, his hands went up when the prospector, stepped away as if to run. Then, a spark of recognition lit in Bifur’s eyes, and his face softened.

“Thorin” Bifur signed and Thorin let out a sigh of relief, nodding slowly as the prospector’s hands moved silently. “I know you.”

Thorin smiled, trying to keep his tone light. “Yes, you do. And you know Bofur and Bombur too. They’re worried about you, Bifur. They want you to come back to town with us.”

Bifur shook his head, his brows notched together as his hands moved warily. “Can’t go back. The Shadows there. Always watching… waiting.”

Dwalin stepped forward, his voice was softer than normal. “It’s alright Bifur. We’ll help you get back safe.”

Bifur’s eyes darted around, scanning the horizon as if expecting something to emerge from the rocks. “You don’t see them,” he signed with quick movements. “The dead won’t stay dead, the shadows walk like men there.”

Thorin glanced at Dwalin, who gave a slight nod. They had to handle this carefully. Bifur was not dangerous, but he was unpredictable, and the last thing they wanted was to spook him further.

��Listen, Bifur,” Thorin said softly, crouching down to meet Bifur’s gaze directly. “Why don’t you come down from that rock and whatever you’re seeing, whatever you’re feeling, we can talk about it back in town.”

Bifur looked at Thorin more now and then to Dwalin, he took a step back away, both men showed their hands to him, “Bifur, out here, you’re exposed. It’s not safe. Let’s get you back to your family. To Bofur and Bombur. They miss you.” Dwalin offered with a kinder tone.

Bifur hesitated, He glanced at the hills behind him, then back at Thorin and Dwalin. He started down off the rocks, slowly moving to Thorin.

Thorin smiled, relief washing over him. “Good man, Bifur. We’ll take it nice and slow. Just follow us.”

They helped Bifur when he got closer, guiding him back to the horses. The man was unsteady, his eyes still darting about as if expecting to see the phantoms that haunted his mind. But with each step, he seemed to calm a little more.

Thorin and Dwalin exchanged a glance, Bifur had once been a kind fellow, not that he wasn’t now and not that he didn’t seem to have moments of clarity,

There was a time where Thorin wondered if the person who slit his grandfather’s throat was the same person who tried to bash Bifur’s skull in with a hatchet.

The sound of galloping hooves drew Thorin back to the present. He turned, spotting two riders approaching at breakneck speed.

His hand instinctively went to the gun at his hip, ready for anything. As the riders drew closer, he recognized their faces. He found himself hurrying a little closer.

It was his nephews. Thorin’s heart clenched with worry as he glanced back toward the town. Something was wrong.

“Uncle Thorin!” Fíli shouted as he and Kíli threw themselves from their horse, scrambling over to him, panic etched on their faces. “You need to come back! The town- there’s an outlaw!”

“Said his name is Bilbo Boggins!” Kíli added breathlessly.

“No, no! It was definitely Baggins!” Fíli corrected, his voice trembling.

Thorin’s heart tightened. Bilbo Baggins, the name was as infamous as it was unexpected. He knew what the name meant.

Thorin felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as he glanced at Dwalin, whose expression mirrored his own horror and panic.

“What’s he doing?” Thorin demanded, trying to steady his voice. He pushed Bifur to Fíli.

Kíli caught his breath. “He’s holding the town hostage. Says he’s got a dozen men hidden around. Mom distracted him so we could get away, Uncle!”

Thorin’s heart sank, then shattered at the thought of his sister risking herself. He wouldn’t lose her too. He wouldn’t let his nephews lose their mother.

He turned to Dwalin. “Mount up,” he ordered, already moving towards his horse. “Fíli, stay with Bifur. If you follow then keep a safe distance behind us and get him back to Bofur and Bombur if you can manage. Stay safe, both of you.”

Fíli nodded, though his eyes were wide and worried. Kíli grabbed his uncle’s pant leg, not ready to let him go. “What about you, Uncle?”

Thorin’s face hardened. “I’m going to deal with our new visitor.” With that, he spurred his horse forward, “Let’s go!” he shouted to Dwalin, who fell beside him.

They raced back towards Ered, the peaceful morning had now become a distant memory.

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By the time they reached the edge of town, Thorin could still see some of the townspeople. Most had been ushered into the general store and the doors were blocked and bard closed.

The rest were tied up and left in front of the store. And Dís was one of them. Two men were at the entrance of the bank guns drawn, one called into the bank as Thorin showed.

After a moment the doors slammed open and there stood Bilbo Baggins, his face covered by a white bandanna , his right hand man stepped out beside him, his face also covered.

“Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo called out, his voice carrying over the din. “I’ve heard of you. The scary lawman turned legend. Some say you can never miss a shot.”

Thorin slid off his horse, Dwalin followed suit quickly, his hands hovering towards his gun. Even though Bilbo’s face was covered, Thorin could see the playful grin underneath it.

Then the first shot rang out, sharp and echoing across the town square, shattering the fragile stillness. Dwalin had fired at Bilbo, but he missed.

Bilbo huffed and shot back, his men soon followed his lead. Instinctively, Thorin and Dwalin ducked behind a water trough, bullets whizzing past them.

"Dwalin! Really? No negotiation?!" Thorin shouted over the din, gripping his revolver tightly.

Dwalin shrugged beside him, wincing as a bullet ricocheted off the edge of the trough, splintering the wood. “I had 'em, the sun just got in my eye…”

“Uh huh, sure.” Throin huffed, he ducked down lowered as his hat got blasted off. “Aww man, I like that hat…”

Dwalin huffed a chuckle at Throin and shook his head before popping up a bit and trying to shoot back.

Throin had to push Dwalin back down when a bullet narrowly avoided hitting Dwalin in the head. “keep your head down!”

Bilbo Baggins chuckled, his voice unnervingly calm amidst the gunfire. "Come on, Oakenshield! You've got quite the reputation. Show me what you've got!"

Thorin clenched his jaw, peering around the edge of the trough. Bilbo stood confidently in the middle of the street, a few of his men taking cover now behind wagons and barrels.

Thorin saw his chance, one of Bilbo's outlaws leaned out too far, aiming a shot at him from the roof from across the street. The outlaw fell from the roof, clutching his chest.

He squeezed the trigger, and the man dropped, his body crumpling to the ground.

"That's one," Thorin muttered under his breath. He moved swiftly, signaling to Dwalin to cover him as he darted to the side of a building.

Bilbo chuckled. "Ooh, nice shot! You keep that up, and I might have to start taking you seriously." Thorin's jaw tightened, but he kept his focus.

Another outlaw shot at him from a wagon. He lined up the shot, cocked his gun's hammer and squeezed the trigger again.

"Two," Thorin counted. He had to duck out of the way as a bullet ricocheted off the wall he was hiding behind.

Bilbo clapped his hands in mock applause. "Oh, very good, very good! But you're still outnumbered, Sheriff. How many bullets you got left? Think you can take us all?"

Throin growled, stepped out and shot at Bilbo, the outlaw just barely avoided the shot as he ducked behind a wall, his right hand man followed him quickly.

Dwalin glanced over at Thorin, Dwalin huffed and shot at them making one of the outlaws that was about to shoot Thorin duck back behind his cover and miss.

Throin slipped back where he was before, Dwalin soon joined him behind the wall. "He's trying to rile you up, don't let him get to you!" Thorin nodded, but he could feel the frustration bubbling up.

Bilbo's voice was like an itch he couldn't scratch, each word dripping with amusement. He huffed and shot across again behind a wagon after a moment Dwalin moved to fallow.

An outlaw popped up from nowhere with a rifle, aiming at Dwalin as the man ran. Thorin fired first, and the outlaw’s head snapped back as he fell to the ground.

"Three," Thorin called out through gritted teeth.

"Now, now," Bilbo chided, his tone mockingly sweet. "You're making this really boring for my boys. Can't you give them a bit of a chance?"

"You want a chance, Baggins?" Thorin shot back, his patience wearing thin. "Tell your men to lay down their guns and come quietly. Otherwise, I'll make sure you're the last man standing."

Bilbo laughed, a light, easy sound that grated on Thorin's nerves. "Well, I'm sure I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a schedule to keep."

Another outlaw shifted, trying to take advantage of Bilbo's distraction. Thorin whipped around and fired, hitting the man square in the chest.

The outlaw fell back with a grunt, his gun clattering to the ground. "Four," Thorin called.

His reputation wasn't a game, but Bilbo treated it like it was. Bilbo's smile wavered slightly but didn’t fall. "Well, well! That's four of mine down. But who's counting, right?" He winked, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Thorin's patience snapped. "I am," he growled, Throin sprung up and stood on top of the wagon, and an outlaw popped up to shoot.

Throin nailed him in the head. The last outlaw dropped, leaving only Bilbo and his right-hand man, both still standing. “That’s five Baggins! Wanna make it 7?”

Bilbo stepped out, his grin strained beneath his bandanna. “Oh, you are fun, Sheriff. But now it’s just me and my friend here. And we’re not nearly as expendable.” As if on cue, Bilbo’s right-hand man lunged toward Thorin, a rifle clutched in his hands.

Before Thorin could react, the man crashed into him, both of them tumbling off the wagon and onto the dusty ground. The impact jolted Thorin’s breath from his lungs, and he fought to regain his footing as they rolled across the dirt. The rifle clattered out of the man’s hands, skidding across the ground, out of reach.

Thorin twisted, driving his elbow into the man’s ribs. The outlaw grunted in pain, his grip loosening just enough for Thorin to shove him off. Thorin scrambled to his feet, reaching for his revolver, but the outlaw was already up, tackling Thorin again before he could grab it.

They grappled in the dirt, exchanging blows, each trying to overpower the other. Thorin’s hand brushed the handle of his gun, but the man yanked him back, forcing him to focus on the struggle. They wrestled for control, boots kicking up dust as they struggled on the ground.

With a sharp twist, Thorin managed to throw the man off balance, sending him crashing into the side of the wagon. The outlaw groaned, shaking his head to clear it, while Thorin lunged for his gun, fingers closing around the cool metal.

But just as he did, the outlaw grabbed his rifle from where it had fallen nearby. They rose to their feet simultaneously, weapons in hand, both breathing hard from the scuffle.

Thorin fired first, but the man was fast, ducking behind a water barrel just in time. Thorin turned, his eyes scanning for Bilbo, but the outlaw leader was already on the move, darting from his cover with surprising speed.

Thorin spun, aiming to take the shot, but Bilbo was quicker than anticipated, and Thorin could react, Bilbo lunged forward and grabbed Gloin.

The man had managed to wriggle his way out of the doorway of the bank, his hands still bound tightly in front of him, a gag tied around his mouth.

Bilbo yanked the banker up to his feet, wrapping one arm around Glóin's chest and pressing the barrel of his revolver against the side of the man's head.

"Alright, everyone, hold up!" Bilbo shouted, his voice ringing out clear. "Or your good banker here gets a brand-new hole in his head!"

Thorin froze, his heart pounding in his chest. Glóin's eyes were wide, his face pale beneath the sweat and dirt that seemed out of place on the banker.

Thorin could see the desperate plea in Glóin's eyes, but he kept his gun trained on Bilbo trying to think of something, anything to say.

Before he could think to stop himself he was already talking "Let him go, Baggins," Thorin called out, hoping his voice sounded steady. "You don't need to hurt anyone."

"Oh, I really didn't want to, Sheriff," Bilbo replied. "But you haven’t and your friend hasn't left me much of a choice, now have you? How about you drop those guns, and maybe I'll think about letting your banker friend here go."

Dwalin's jaw was set, his hand steady on his weapon. "Like hell I will!" he yelled out. "He's bluffing, Thorin. We can take him."

Bilbo chuckled, his laughter maddeningly light and teasing "Is that what you think, Deputy?" He tightened his grip on Glóin, pressing the barrel of the gun harder against the man's temple, Glóin to wince. "I'm not bluffing. Now, toss your guns aside, or I'll paint the street with his brains."

Thorin's mind raced.

They were at a standoff, and Bilbo knew he held all the cards. "Alright, Bilbo," Thorin heard himself say. "We'll put down the guns. But you let Glóin go first."

Bilbo's eyes glinted with amusement behind his bandanna. "Oh, Sheriff, you think I'm new at this? I say guns first, then the banker goes free."

Thorin could feel Dwalin tensing beside him. "Don't do it, Thorin," Dwalin whispered urgently. "We can't let him leave. Not after what he's done."

"Dwalin, put the gun down," Thorin told Dwalin, turning to face his deputy.

But Dwalin's jaw clenched, and Thorin realized too late what was about to happen.

Dwalin's hand twitched, raised his gun and shot, but Bilbo was faster.

A gunshot cracked through the tense air, and Dwalin staggered back dropping his revolver, clutching his shoulder with a grunt of pain as he fell to one knee.

"Dwalin!" Thorin shouted, his voice sharp with fear and frustration.

Bilbo pressed the gun harder against Glóin's head, his smile never faltering. "Uh-uh, Sheriff," he warned.

"You make one more move, and your banker's brains decorate the street. Now, what's it gonna be?"

Thorin's frustration boiled over, but he forced himself to remain calm. "Bilbo, listen to me," he said, his voice low and steady. "Glóin has a family. He's not part of this. Just let him go."

For a moment, Bilbo hesitated, his grip on Gloin loosening just slightly. "I know he has a family, Oakenshield," he said, his tone almost sincere. "I don't want to hurt anyone, Sheriff. Honest, I don't. But I can't have you chasing me down the road. I need to make sure you don't follow."

Thorin nodded slowly, lowering his hands further. "Alright, Bilbo. We'll stay put. Just don't do anything stupid."

Bilbo's smirk returned, though his eyes darkened with determination. "Too late for that, Sheriff." In one swift motion, he pistol-whipped Glóin, sending the bound man crumpling to the ground, dazed and bleeding.

Before Thorin could react, Bilbo spun, firing a warning shot into the dirt at Thorin's feet. "Drop it!" he barked.

Thorin's revolver clattered to the ground without hesitation. Bilbo's right-hand man covered them as Bilbo mounted his horse in a single, fluid motion.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Sheriff!" Bilbo called mockingly, his voice once again full of mocking cheer. He spurred his horse, his right-hand man close behind, both of them racing out of town in a cloud of dust and grit.

Thorin watched them go, he groaned in frustration as anger boiled in his veins. He turned quickly to Dwalin, who was struggling to his feet, clutching his shoulder.

"You alright?" he asked as he looked his deputy over with concern.

Dwalin nodded, though his face was pale from the pain. "I'll live. What about Glóin?"

Thorin knelt by Gloin, checking his pulse and untying the gag from his mouth. "He's alive, just knocked out. Get Óin.

Make sure everyone else is safe," he ordered, looking out over the square.

Dwalin nodded and staggered off, Thorin could see his nephews, Kíli was uniting his mother and Fíli helped unbind the doors of the general store.

The dust from Bilbo's escape was still settling, but Thorin knew one thing for sure: he'd be ready when Bilbo Baggins came back around. And next time, there'd be no escape.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Note:

Okay I’m gonna stop it there. This was just kinda a little one shot for @shurikthereject ‘s western/cowboy au. The rest of this note is kind to them now. I tried to stay true to the shown characters and how you made them but I’m not the best at that. Also I wouldn’t mind making like a whole book for it but if you hate this and you don’t want me to continue I’d like to know. Or if you’d like me to change anything let me know. Okay bye.

[thequietkid-moonie]

S/O self harms because love the scars

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Aventurine, Nagisa ]

[ Honkai Star Rail ] [ Assassination Classroom ]

The person who requested this wanted to stay anonymous!

I wasn't able to write for Karma like the annon wanted buuuut i hope all of you enjoy this two cuties <3

Aventurine

The love Aventurine has for you is inmense and sincere, and since you reciprocated those feeling he has no reason to don't show you affection in diferent ways all the time, even bragging about you to her subordinates and sometimes even talking about you non stop to Topaz (half to annoy her and half because he just can't shut up)

As much as Aventurine is open and loud with how much he loves you he normally doesn't talk about the true extent of his feelings, he doesn't has the courage to tell you directly how much you truly mean for him and how much he does care for you, how he would be willing to give everything he posses if is in order to keep you safe and happy, but even when he doesn't talk about it out loud he has diferent and indirect ways to show how much he truly care about you

Aventurine cares too much for you and is afraid of losing you so when he noticed your scars he was imediatly worried, but since there are just scars he stays as calm as posible and take time to try to find out what could have happened for you, but if there are fresh injuries on your skin Aventurine can feel his heart skip a beat, even if you have a dangerous work that could explain them it won't easy his worries, in this case he will imediatly ask you about it (and please ask you to take care of the injuries, even if you already did and are even properly bandaged up he will insist)

Deciding to tell him about your little habit or him finding out will recive the same reaction, he is beyond shocked and worried, he won't exactly judge for it but he is not going to take it well neither, Aventurine is already too scare of losing you but you doing this just makes his worries increase

Aventurine has to take a moment to calm down before asking you to please stop doing this, he can understand that you like scars but hurting yourself is not healthy in any way, he doesn't want you to do this and, honestly, he is more than willing for you to hurt him instead, give him all the scars you want as long as you stop hurting yourself

Aventurine will gain the habit to discreetly looking over you whenever he has the chance to make sure you aren't hurting yourself and if he sees another fresh injuries he can feel himself in the verge of tears, but he will hold them back and calmly (but heartbroken) ask you again to please don't do it

Nagisa Shiota

Nagisa is really caring and loving, he can be quite flustered by his feeling and even more by the fact that are reciprocated but that also lead him to try to be the best boyfriend he can be

Nagisa doesn't exactly make a big deal out of you two being together but it can be quite obvious how close you two are of each other, he doesn't even try to hide the adoration and love in his eyes whenever he is with you, he doesn't has reasons to do so (but he kinda regrets being so obvious everytime he end up tease by others, still he won't change it)

Even if Nagisa doesn't think much of himself he is really observant and smart, he can notice little details and since he cares for you so deeply he will unconsciously pay close attention to you. It won't really take him too long before noticing the scars on your skin or even fresh wounds, and he is imediatly worried but at the same time doesn't want to ask right away

Nagisa is smart so he will try to reach a logical conclusion, trying to not be carried away for his worries, Class 3-E is reciving assassin training so the most logic option could be to think that you got hurt during training, but at the same time it isn't the most accurate option since Karasuma tries to be as careful as posible and Koro-sensei has forbidden to hurt the students, the students security is a top priority so you getting badly hurt like that during the training doesn't sound too much likely, wich only end up increasing his worries

The more worried Nagisa is the more he stares at your scars, so that end up leading you two to finally talk about it (and honestly, if non of you say anything it will be Koro-sensei who would intervene soon or later), either by you choosing to tell him or him asking you to talk about it the result will be the same, you doing it on purpose to yourself just makes Nagisa even more worried, imediatly thinking the worst, but if it is truly just for the scars his worries will easy just a little

He doesn't judge you but it isn't happy about it, he doesn't like the thought of you hurting yourself just because you like how scars look and he will definetly have a serious conversation with you about this (he doesn't want to come across as controlling but this is an unhealthy habit), honestly he does respect your liking so he is up to suggest other and more healthy ways to fullfil your wish, maybe you two can ask Sousuke to draw you a cool looking scar over your skin (or maybe even teach you how to do it), Nagisa is sure he will happy to do so and that way you won't harm yourself!

[acollectionofcuriousreblogs]

So I know there are a lot of us who appreciate Minkowski as a big and buff woman, but hear me out, consider the thematic implications of tiny Minkowski. Of 5’0, athletic but not jacked, Minkowski. Because then, besides Eiffel, Minkowski would be the only character who is just pretty average. She’s not a brilliant scientist like Hilbert or Maxwell. She’s not in control of an entire space shuttle or an immortal android like Hera and Pryce. She can’t dodge out of the way of bullets like Cutter. And she can’t match the physical threat that Lovelace and Kepler have proven they posses. In fact, she’s not much of a threat at all, which is precisely why I think Cutter picked her.

She’s strict and disciplined, a natural leader who follows orders and trusts authority; exactly the kind of person Goddard can manipulate. However, even if she ever does wisen up (which she obviously does) she won’t be able to cause great damage to others or the company. She’s easily dispensable…so Cutter believes.

And yet time and time again, we see Minkowski survive. This woman, who was marked to be killed off back in season 1, manages to be one of few to make it back to Earth in the finale. Minkowski is constantly going against people bigger, brainier, and better than herself but she always comes out on top. She survives Hilbert’s takeover. She forces Kepler to surrender during their mutiny. She beats Jacobi’s ultimatum without any loss of life. She kills the immortal Cutter. Not to mention all the many, many disasters and dangers she endures (and brings her crew through) while in space.

And that’s because she’s a testament to the human spirit. An embodiment of sheer will and determination. Of unrelenting perseverance, even in the face of impossible odds. Don’t underestimate the little guy because they can endure. Renee Minkowski, the woman constantly proving you don’t need to be exceptional to do great things. And I love her for it.

[prince-kallisto]

I am thinking about the Raverne who loved humanity

Despite the growing conflict and his wife’s hatred of humans, Raverne ventured out for the sake of diplomacy and saw something more out there. Something beyond human greed and cruelty, beyond the stench of oil and metal.

Human lives were as ethereal as a silk thread, weaving tapestries of their ancestors and their children. In the time it took for his kind to walk, a human child would grow into man, and craft wonders born from curiosity alone.

Who knows how Raverne first learned the Common Language. Perhaps he pored over human scrolls with scholars advising him over his shoulder. Perhaps the children giggled at his clumsy attempt of conversing with them, before scribbling the alphabet into the dirt with a twig- tongues sticking out from concentration. The first word the little ones taught him was “bird.”

Raverne did not teach himself despite Lilia’s claims, oh no. Far from it. A language he foresaw a future of peace in had to be taught by the humans themselves. To posses that degree of vulnerability was a danger in their world, but in order to be taught, one had to strip their notion of ‘normalcy.’ And so, Raverne bore his soul to humanity’s teachings. He knelt beside the drunken man on the street corner, beside an Empress, beside the mother feeding her babe. He trailed after the shepherd, gossiped with the merchant, listened to the elderly on their death bed. Each and every single human had their own story to tell, rich with a vocabulary different from the next.

Now carrying the torch, Raverne passed down the flames of knowledge to his fellow soldiers, to students, to Lilia. Over the years, schools could eventually educate young Fae the Common Language to the point of fluency. The fae would now carry this language and pass it on to their children, their grandchildren- for as many centuries it would take Fae and human to live hand-in-hand.

And when the war began, many of his people fell in battle. Villages raided, mines collapsed into rubble. A field of sawed trunks replaced the forests he, Lilia, and Meleanor used to play in. The rivers the water fairies once cultivated now reeked of oil. The rainwater satiated his thirst more than that gunk. Scraps of armor and cloth littered the war grounds. His body cried out from the day of battle, but he would bear the weight of his beloved companions on his shoulders one last time to grant them a proper resting place.

And in the moment that he too fell in battle, writhing in the agony as his wings were to be stolen as a trophy, Raverne could not yet being himself to despise humanity.

He thought of those small voices pleading if they could touch his iridescent feathers just once. Of the little ones whose eyes shone in wonder at his wings- the span of which were so large, that six or seven children could huddle within as if it were their secret playhouse. Why, Raverne recalled the elderly, the ones who took his hands in their calloused, frail ones, marveling at the sight of an “angel” before them. Their faces were wonderfully affected by time in a way his never would, with wrinkles and age spots and wisps of white hair. As blood puddled around him, the scent of food wafted through his memories. How generous the stall owners were, who insistently plated extra food onto his plate- meals crafted from hands that knew the touch of fire.

In his weakening breath, Raverne marveled at the beauty of humanity. Oh yes, it was certainly cruel, trashed with atrocities he could never even fathomed before. But at the heart of it lay a loud resilience. The sound of joy from young and old, dancing in their flowing garbs in their town square. Humans laughing and whooping through the strain of their feet hitting the ground in a rhythm, sweat dripping down their foreheads. Even through the vilest soldiers, the song of peace passed down through generations of humanity thrived still.

And Raverne prayed his beloved boy would one day be invited to sing too.

[spadeprincesss]

Four Swords mutant/experiment AU

This is an AU I role played with @saltyskychild way back in like 2017, but I thought about it recently and wanted to retouch it!

TW: torture here and there, human experiments, general violence, blood, kidnapping

General plot: all four links are kidnapped/handed in to the government at a young age because they all posses superhuman abilities.

Each ability corresponds to the element acquainted with their color in the Zelda games: Blue - water, Red - fire, Green - air, Vio - earth.

Zelda is also a mutant, she hides this fact from her father who is the person that set out the order to capture and experiment on mutants.

She secretly runs an organization that helps rescue mutants from these facilities, with the help of Impa and other sheikah characters.

Shadow is a human experiment, he’s never seen the outside of the facility. The very first genetically engineered human weapon.

The colors are divided into danger levels (taking a page from: X-Men here LMAO).

Blue and Red are beta level because they’re the easiest to neutralize.

Red’s powers are neutralized by water of course.

Blue is neutralized by the cold, he freezes over faster than the average human because of the increased levels of water in his body.

Green is alpha level, he’s kept sedated because they can’t cut his oxygen aka his power source. If left unchecked he can raise air pressure levels and escape.

Vio and Shadow are omega level threats.

Vio’s power is simple but he’s smart, he figures out really quick that anything earth related or derived from earth is under his control, making the use of any metal around him prohibited.

Shadow is kept in a bright room, his room has two separate generators in case there is a power outage, he can’t be allowed in the darkness for too long or else he’ll grow too powerful.

Note that all colors have the potential to become omega level threats, they are all under strict surveillance because of it.

Vio was part of Zelda’s organization prior to being captured, therefore he has more experience with his powers than the others. He’s hostile, manipulative, only high level personnel are allowed to watch over him. He has a track record of talking his way into getting new employees to let him out.

This is how Zelda finds out about his facility, her informant (Vio) goes missing and she tracks it back to this facility and tries to rescue them all.

In Vio’s first escape attempt he uses the chance to see how many people are there, finding the other colors and deciding he has to make a plan that lets them all escape.

Along the way he sees Shadow, and Shadow becomes intrigued as soon as Vio nears his door and says “I promise I’ll get you out of here.”. No one has ever said that to him, everyone tells him he’ll be a weapon or rot in here.

Vio lets himself be recaptured, confident he can find another way to escape, hopefully to even contact Zelda. He could easily escape by himself, but abandoning these people here is cruel.

More notes to come if enough people take interest. Might write a fic too if people want it. Look forward to doodles about this AU as well.

[credus99-blog]

Aggression/ Danger to humans: Extremely Low – None

Element/ Ailment: None

The Azure Jidderway or Cj’idywej (Chidaway), meaning “trotting shrub” in Dhënuvgöm, is a species of Anthropod (Arthropods that have evolved internal skeletons, closed circular systems¸ and are Mesotherms). While Azure Jidderways are one of several anthropod species that have successfully colonized the surface of Atterra, they are one of the few that almost exclusively live on the surface. Azure Jidderways, like other jidderways, are commonly found in forests, shrublands, and other environments where the moist soil allows the jidderway to bury itself in the soil. These small crepuscular grazers utilize their two oral tentacles in order to funnel food into their mouths and allow their radula to break down their food. The azure jidderway prefers to spend its foraging hours eating small fruits, nuts, algae, and soft leaved plants on the forest floor. Like other anthropods, the azure jidderway can see into the UV spectrum and possess biofluorescent spots and patterns on their bodies for infra-species identification. Curiously, the fluorescent markings that the azure jidderway possesses are concentrated on the top portion of its body that stays above the ground when it is buried. This is believed to allow Jidderway to identify each other even if one is buried in the ground and allow jidderways to gather and form ‘groves’. While Jidderways belong to a group of shell-less anthropods (anthropods that either are not majorly covered or lack by hard carapaces).

When it comes to defending itself from predators, the azure jidderway, like all other hoofed jidderway species, has no natural defenses. The jidderway’s skin, while thick,  is similar to a toad’s and offers little in the way of protection against predators. Instead the azure jidderway, like other jidderway, employs bright colors, speed, and camouflage as its means of natural defense. While harmless, jidderways employ the use of bright colors to give predators the impression of them being poisonous. Helping to give the jidderway a much needed moment to run away from the predator. Surprisingly, jidderways are quick on their feet, often seen frantically and erratically running from whatever is threatening them. To further aid their escape, jidderways will position their eye stalks directly in front of their bodies while running. This gives the jidderway stereoscopic vision to be better able to maneuver around objects ahead of them. When not frantically running for its life, or foraging during the night and twilight hours, the jidderway spends its time buried in the ground. While buried in the ground only their plant stalk, eyes, backs, and leaf-like appendages are above the ground. The plant stalks that jidderway posses on their backs are remnants of a beneficial parasitic plant that once worked in symbiosis with its host. The plant helped provide the jidderway with sugars and oxygen metabolization, and the plant was able to spread its pollen and seeds to other hosts.

However, over time, the parasitic plant slowly became completely indistinguishable from the host’s anatomically and almost genetically. In fact, the only place where the original parasitic plant’s genetics can still be found is within the chloroplasts that exist within the leaves upon the stalk. Not only do the chloroplasts of the stalk  and its leaf-like appendages help the jidderway photosynthesize and metabolize oxygen, but also in its reproduction. This is due to the reproductive organs in the jidderway’s abdomen having become completely atrophied and nonfunctional as the plant symbiote and host merged into one. Currently, the function of reproduction has been completely taken over by the stalk on the jidderway’s back. Making the jidderway reproduce through pollination instead of standard sexual faunal reproduction. The pollination style reproduction makes jidderways the only known genus to reproduce in this manner alongside Grasslings who also reproduce through pollination. Making the Jidderway a more derived and extreme version of the ‘Leaf Sheep’ and Sacoglossa molluscs of Earth which incorporate algae into their bodies in order to photosynthesize for their food.

The stalk of the jidderway is able to metabolize oxygen in sufficient amounts to where the jidderway does not need to breathe from its abdomen while buried in the ground. While buried, the jidderway will unfurl the large fleshy leaves on the top of its stalk and remain as still as possible. Should the jidderway sense something approaching it through vibrations in the ground, it will extend its eye stalks to survey the threat. Should the jidderway be discovered and harassed it will release low frequency calls from its vocal sacks to startle the threat. Should that not work, then the jidderway will attempt smacking the threat with its heavy stalk.

Should that fail to deter the threat, or the threat is severe enough the jidderway and any others around it will burst from the ground and run away for safety in different directions. The surviving members of the grove (which can be anywhere between five to twelve individuals in size) will use their vocal organs to call out to their surviving grove members to regroup. Once regrouped, depending on the time of the day, the jidderways will then either begin foraging or rebury themselves in a spot of sunny soil. During winter jidderway prefer to spend as much time as possible in the ground and go into a hibernative state as they shut down all nonessential systems and almost entirely rely on photosynthesis to get them through the winter. Only moving when they need to escape a predator or to find a better spot to bury themselves in warm vegetation. During these periods of movement the jidderway will eat nuts and shrubs to sustain itself and build up fat before going back to its near inactive state.

To communicate jidderways use the two vocal sacks on either side of their body in order to produce sound and amplify their calls. Similar to how frogs croak, the jidderway will inflate its vocal sacks and vibrate them in order to produce low and high frequency sounds that can be heard for over two miles in the forests that they inhabit. It helps that the jidderway’s ears are especially tuned to hear low frequency sounds, allowing jidderway to communicate over large distances. During early spring, the large leaves at the top of a male’s stalk will turn from green to a brilliant red, yellow, and orange. At the very tops of their stalks both male and female jidderways will develop a blue or white flower containing a stamen or pistil depending on the gender of the jidderway.

Males will compete by making loud calls throughout the forest,  flaunting their colors, and displaying their fitness by rapidly bobbing side to side like a stick bug in front of the female. The more impressive a male’s display is, the more females he will mate with within his grove. Should the top male be challenged by another male and showing off their yellow belly spots, posturing, and calls doesn’t settle the dispute, males will fight by kicking with their hooves and chasing. The winner of the match is the first one to submit or be eaten by a predator due to the ruckus they create running and calling in the brush. Should the female choose to mate with a male, the female jidderway will connect her pistil to the male’s stamen and become fertilized by his pollen. Once pollinated, the female jidderway’s flower will lose its petals within twenty four hours of successful pollination and begin to develop a fruit the size of a large grapefruit over the next thirty days at the end of her stalk.

The growing of a fruit is extremely taxing for the female jidderway as over half the nutrients and minerals she eats will go directly into the fruit while it matures. Should the female encounter any danger while her fruit is growing, she will immediately detach it from her body and abandon it to distract the predator while she makes her escape. Should this happen early enough in the spring or summer, the female may mate again and begin growing another fruit. When the fruit first starts growing, the skin of the azure jidderway’s fruit is a pinkish violet in color with green tipped developing spines. As the fruit matures it will slowly grow hair and become a mix of browns with dark markings and patterns on its skin and a flat bottom. The waxy spines made from thicker and harder skin remain a darker green in color at their tips as the fruit matures and help to protect fruit from potential predators. The skin of a mature azure jidderway fruit is thin and waxy, the inside has a thick and fleshy pinkish pericarp, locule walls, locules with seeds that make up the inner pericarp, and a thick and incredibly nutrient dense core. Each fruit has between fourteen to seventeen locules each with a small black rice-grain-sized seed at their ends and surrounded by two locule walls.

Once the fruit has reached maturity and has been dropped by the female jidderway the fruit will begin germinating. Over the course of the first three days after being detached, the hard black seeds of the fruit will draw nutrients from the core. The seeds expand to the size of a grape and completely drain the core of nutrients before the hard outer shell pops and reveals the embryo and yolk that was developing inside it. Once the hard shell of the seed has been removed, the embryo will feed off its nutrient dense yoke and grow until it’s two inches in diameter over the course of four to six weeks. The skin of the fruit during this time becomes more and more strained from the growing jidderway nymphs until finally it tears and rips open, releasing the nymphs inside. Once ‘hatched’ the jidderway nymphs will devour whatever remains of the fruit to gain all its vitamins and minerals before leaving as a group to find new sources of food.  This grove of young jidderway will continue to grow and develop as a unit over the course of a year and a half before going their separate ways. It is not uncommon to see a young grove of jidderway following a full grown jidderway, using the adult as a means of spotting predators and finding easily accessible food. Once separated, the jidderway nymphs will reach their full size by the end of their second year and reach sexual maturuity by their third.

Due to the skittish nature of the jidderway, initial domestication attempts for meat and fruit farming of the anthropod were largely unsuccessful. Until over thirty years of selective breeding produced a domestic strain of the azure jidderway. While still skittish, the temperament of domestic jidderway is more akin to that of a chicken’s. Generally minding their own business and allowing themselves to be picked up by handlers, but sudden movements and loud noises send them into a panic and make the jidderways run for the nearest cover. Luckily, jidderway are easy to raise and farm due to them needing minimal land due to photosynthesizing in the ground for the majority of the day. Farmers often feed jidderway extra fruit, mineral rich pellets, and scraps of vegetables that are left over from their harvesting process as a way to make use of unwanted parts of edible plants. This ease of farming and the fact that the white flesh of the jidderway, like other anthropods, easily soaks up flavors while cooking. Making  it incredibly popular within the walled state of Malgori and the SRA.

Besides being harvested for their meat, they are also farmed for the fruits they grow after mating. During the spring and summer months jidderway fruit is incredibly popular due to the creamy texture of its flesh, and tasting like a citrusy custard. Adding to the popularity of the jidderway’s fruit (also sometimes referred to as the jidderway melon) is the fact that it is rich in fiber, antioxidants, vitamin c, vitamin k, cobalamin, acticidin, folates, magnesium, manganese, phosphorus, potassium, calcium, pyrite, and copper make the fruit particularly good for growing children.Once dropped by the female the fruit is flash frozen as to stop the germination process of the fruit and allow it to be sold in various grocery stores. To maximize production of fruit during the spring and summer months, female jidderway are fed a calorie and mineral rich diet in order to grow their fruits quickly. Once fruit is detached from the stalk of the female, the female is put in a greenhouse to simulate early spring so that she redevelops her flower and then is repollinated to restart the process. Once the summer ends and fall begins this process is stopped to give the female jidderways a break and resume their natural habits.

Due to jidderways being the most recognizable anthropod besides moss crabs, and how silly it looks while running has made it a pop-culture icon within Malgori and the SRA. In media depictions of the jidderway, the anthropod will bob side to side before disappearing and teleporting somewhere else, often leaving after images in its wake. Another popular depiction of the jidderway is that while running, it’s moving at the speed of sound so everything else is whipping by it. Only for it to switch to a human’s perspective and show that the jidderway is only trotting away at a much slower pace.

The most famous depiction of jidderway’s in media however, is the azure jidderway superhero known as ‘The Blue Bolt’ or Bolt for short. Bolt is part of a cast of other superpowered animals that gained their powers after coming into contact with ancient and powerful relics. In all his depictions Bolt has the power of superspeed, with more recent depictions adding to his list of powers. Turning the jidderway into a martial artist that uses psionic powers to turn evil doers into fruit that he then eats to temporarily gain their powers. The franchise of Bolt and other superpowered animals and their fight against crime has grown so large in recent years amongst the natters (orphans living on the streets), that they can often be seen with memorabilia and shirts depicting Bolt and the other animals on their shirts. This popularity has even gotten to the point that particularly quick and fast acting policemen are called ‘blue bolts’ due to the blue tarda’s (face paint) on their faces.

[aingeal98]

More aos rambles but I find it so interesting that Coulson, despite being the one May and Daisy look to as a man with a good heart when they themselves feel like monsters, is the one who would risk everything including other people to save them. Like if Daisy is in danger and the only option to save her is a plan where every other agent has a 95% chance of dying, he's doing it. And he's very openly hypocritical about it to the point that everyone else calls out his double standards. Mace saying "When it comes to May and Daisy you can't be objective." and Lincoln and May pointing out how he'd sacrifice every inhuman but never Daisy. Like he cares very deeply about Fitz and Simmons but he makes decisions that puts them at risks that I just can't see him doing if it was Daisy. And Coulson very rarely feels bad about it, he stands by his hypocrisy and desire to protect his daughter. Even when it comes to Daisy's own wishes, he cares too much to let her sacrifice herself.

Meanwhile May doesn't love Daisy any less, quite possibly even loves her more by the end of the series, but she also is just more... understanding and respectful of Daisy's autonomy and wishes. Like if Daisy were to die or sacrifice herself May would never recover, would be the last to leave the grave side. But at the same time she wouldn't risk every agent to save her, choosing instead to believe in Daisy's ability to beat the impossible like she's done time and time again. And I don't think she would have knocked Daisy out to drag her home when she was scared of ending the world. She would have stayed with her, and that would likely have been what twisted Daisy's arm to get her home. 'If you're going to be stupidly sacrificial and stay then so am I, because we're too alike. I know how you think and I know that's how to checkmate your self destructive impulses.'

I'm not saying one is morally better than the other, they're both just parents who love their kid and want to protect her. But Coulson, who's viewed by most people as essentially just some suit with a good heart, would order every man he commands to fight a suicide battle if it was the only way to keep Daisy alive. Meanwhile May would be first in line to fight that battle, and she would win! But she would never drag anyone else down. She's as practical and ruthless as Coulson, even more so sometimes. But having been the one to train Daisy, her protection comes in the form of unshakeable belief in the good Daisy is capable of, and a gentle but solid place to rest whenever things don't go as planned. If she thinks Daisy's making a mistake she'll say it to her face, but she's more... open, than Coulson is, to letting Daisy fumble around and find her own way. She'll still be there to beat up anyone that threatens her kid and offer wisdom in the aftermath, but it's less impulsive than Coulson.

Coulson idolizes Captain America as a hero for the same heroic traits he sees in May and Daisy. He believes that they are Special people, and they must go on even if he doesn't. But those very same traits that makes them so special in his eyes are what makes them feel like they have to be the one to jump on the grenade and protect their team, all while Coulson is trying to keep them as far away from the grenade as possible. And they both see a goodness in him and in each other that they don't believe they posses themselves. They're all somewhat correct and also all a little blinded by how much they love each other, but that's just how families are.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Got any games about being a little creature out to cause chaos?

THEME: Chaos Gremlins.

Hello friend! I sure do!

Space Gerbils, by Penguin King Games

You are the galaxy's most famous bounty hunter, but nobody knows your real name, or what your real voice sounds like. In fact, you've never taken your helmet off in public, at least as far as anybody knows!

The interstellar tabloids have accused any number of public figures of secretly being you. They are, of course, all wrong. The real reason you never remove your helmet is that you're actually a bunch of space gerbils operating a human-size mech suit.

You're very keen on not letting this get out.

Space Gerbils is definitely the longest game on this list, with over 100 pages in the current iteration of the playtest. This is a game about teamwork, and the mech creation is the first indicator of that, as you’ll have to collaboratively create the robot the gerbils pilot in order to keep their identities a secret.

Play involves a series of phases (setup, operations, fallout, end) and a grid where your gerbils will strategically move in order to operate their bounty hunter effectively. While the premise of Space Gerbils is cute and funny, it has the potential for both humorous and dramatic scenes, you’ll likely find that your play table will approach the strategy of the game with dedication and the desire to succeed. As a result, I think Space Gerbils is going to produce a high amount of group investment.

Mutant Possum Cowboys, by It’s Eric! Games.

Mutant Possum Cowboys is a quick-play RPG where ya take the roll of talkin' possums who have taken it upon themselves ta help tha' townsfolk of tha' Wild West. 

Yer a Mutant Possum Cowboy. Yer posse is part of tha' Order of tha' Gun, dedicated ta wanderin’ from Town ta Town in “Roadkill County,” tha' Mutated Deserts of tha' Wild West, offerin’ help where needed against mutated critters and all sorts of Ne'er-Do-Wells. 

This game involves distributing points among three stats to indicate what your lil’ cowboy is good at. Your character also gets a special treasure in addition to their regular gear that gives them a little bit of kick - such as “Tha Rallyin’ Jaw Harp” which sounds like an instrument that can call for aid from miles away, or “Gold Lightnin’”, a famous double-barrelled revolver. The game feels like it draws a lot of inspiration from games such as Lasers and Feelings - particularly the roll tables provided to the GM to help them quickly generate a problem situation that the possums will have to wrangle with.

Sockgoblins, by poorstudents

You are a Sockgoblin! One of many loyal to the Great And All Powerful And Really Important Queen, living in the secret underground goblin city. Your Queen demands all sorts of items from the surface world; coffee, really big hats, the occasional hubcap. But what she craves most are Socks.

Every year, the Queen demands a sock tithe, which is where you, little sockgoblin, come in! Every other Sockgoblin has already got their Socks, but you have been slacking! You will need to venture up into the giant world of the humans and steal the last Socks! But the humans are ready. They have prepared their traps, trained their guard animals, and hired the dreaded Sockgoblin exterminator.

You and your crew of Sockgoblins venture into the world finding adventure, danger, and most importantly, Socks! No one knows where the Socks are now but you’re confident you know where they will end up; at the feet of your Great And All Powerful And Really Important Queen!

Sockgoblins is a Forged-in-the-Dark game inspired by media such as The Boxtrolls, Over the Garden Wall, and Home Alone, and provides adventures as little goblins stealing socks for the Goblin Queen. The danger of the each thing you try to do escalates in correlation to how many socks you’ll get out of it - and you can actually play using socks because they’re part of your inventory!

Sockgoblins can work as ether a one-shot or as an episodic campaign, so it’s great if you want to try out a game of it to see if your group wants to keep coming back to it.

Hotdog Princess, by jesthehuman

You are on a rookie team of Hotdog Hopefuls, wanting to join the ranks of HOTDOG: Hyper Optic Team DOG. There are a limited number of spots on the team, but one way to impress the Top Dog is by being crowned the Hotdog Princess at the local puppy pageant. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to infiltrate the Puppy Pageant and WIN. Alliances should be formed. Knowing when to break them is key. 

Hotdog Princess is full of puns and nods to various kinds of ‘dogs, with “Chili Dog”, “Veggie Dog” and “Danger Dog’ just a few of the dog options underneath the roll table that determines your character type. Players have two tracks: “hot” and “dog’, which you’ll fill out hangman-style whenever you fail a roll. Filling either one of the tracks prompts an end for your dog in some way. Your stats are, of course, “hot” and “dog”, with “hot” representing your charm, while your “dog” represents your jokes and pranks.

If you want a goofy game with an even goofier premise, you want Hotdog Princess.

Partners in Grime, by Michael Low

Partnerz in Grime is a story game in which the players take on the role of a crew of goblins: awesomely awful, magical critters hiding out on the edges of hooman society getting into all sorts of trouble.

The bones of this game is the Stories RPG, which is a one-page game that details some simple rules about how to use d6 dice pools to overcome obstacles or move the story forward. Partnerz in Grime is not just a story to run through with the base engine - it also comes with worldubuilding prompts, drama clocks, ways to power up your character, and a mechanic that improves’ players’ math as they play. The authorial voice is incredibly specific, sinking you into the goofiness of the game from the start, and character creation involves fill-in-the-blank prompts that fill out the character’s story.

If you want a game that is great for kids or that is really open about the kind of chaos you can unleash, you might want to check out Partnerz in Grime.

Heckhounds, by TheOtherTracy

Yours is a legacy of brimstone, fire, and damnation. You're a hunter of hell, sent to Earth to bring escaped damned souls back to the Eternal Fire.

You're also a good boy! Who's a good boy? You are!

Heckhounds is game of hellfire and tail wags. You and your littermates were sent to Earth to hunt an escaped damned soul. Business as usual, right? Except this time you got the bodies of mortal, Earth puppies rather than the hellhound bodies you'd normally get. The nature of the puppy in you is strong, and you've got to keep from blowing your cover while you hunt down your target!

This game feels directly inspired by the dog given to Adam in Good Omens, and I love the idea of it already. The three stats in Heckhounds are Hell, Hound, and Ineffability, with Hell relating to your infernal demon-dog strength, Hound relating to your puppy charms and virtues, and Ineffability relating to what the game calls “the odd surety of the unknowable.” The game is inspired by Honey Heist, which means that your stats will fluctuate in value and you are always at the risk of pushing a stat too high and triggering some kind of end-game state. If you want a game that sparks fun times by merging great cosmic power into an itty bitty life-form, then you want Heckhounds.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past…

Cryptid TV,by yanahn.

Something Is Wrong With The Chickens, by Elliot Davis.

Geese At The Beach, by Justin Joyce.

I’ll Be Taking That, by porchlightdusk.

Mouse Cult, by Mint-Rabbit (that’s me!)

[dilemma-danger]

☆welcome to my blog!!!☆

haii :D im ash!!!

my pronouns r he/they/it/bite :3 im also pansexual and a trans guy!

im a high schooler :P

i have tourettes syndrome, epilepsy, mdd, and anxiety

my sideblogs r @against-life-as-a-symptom (art, though i also post art here), @d1lemmaaa (kjrp), and @gerard-ways-right-sock (mostly made that bc there's a left sock blog lmao), and i also have a vent blog (dm if u want it!)

im also a therian!!! my theriotypes are a jaguar, a black jaguar, and a northern long-eared bat :] feel free to ask about them!

my blog is matching with my friend, @gay-little-freak!!

i went to one more time tour and saw ptv and blink-182 7/11/24!!!!

free palestine🇵🇸

i lovelovelove music!!! lots of different types!! i have my headphones on pretty much 24/7, you'll never see me with em off hehe

i have lots of favorite bands!! in no specific order, they're my chemical romance, pierce the veil, blink 182, hozier, green day, tv girl, lemon demon, system of a down, slipknot, leathermouth, frank iero, mailpup, salv the dog, s3rl, sodikken, weezer, ghost, femtanyl, insane clown posse, simple plan, fall out boy, and h3artcrush :33

my favorite genres r emo music and loudloudloud stuff that i can blow my eardrums out with!!!!

please send music recommendations x3

my current and past hyperfixations:

fnaf, gore, cannibalism, lobotomies, mcr, olms, plushies, ranboo, dsmp (this was like 4 years ago don't execute me please), furries, dinosaurs, saw (2004)

tags:

#thoughts : my og posts!!

#horny for frank iero : uh. i think this one is somewhat self explanatory :')

#asks : any asks people send me!!! (please send me asks ily)

#me : pics of me :33

i started doing these after i started posting, so its technically not all of my posts.

DNI:

homophobes/transphobes, ableists, zoophiles, racists, incest, and other basic dni. that includes assholes.

other random stuffs!!!

-my favorite color is neon green

-my favorite animals are snakes and olms

-pleaseee use tonetags im really bad at deciphering things lol

-im really cool and a really great guy this is Certified by the Government

-i love to draw and make things!! i make a lot of kandi and cosplays. lmk if you want to see any of my cosplays :3

-i collect soda tabs and plushies

pictures of me, my killjoy oc, and blinkies/stamps below the cut!!!

this is me!!!!

my killjoy oc!!!!

DILEMMA DANGER!!! (name by @gay-little-freak :3)

dilemma is mostly based off of me, so we're kinda similar!!

pronouns: he/they

gender: male (trans)

sexuality: panromantic asexual

he lovessss music, and he plays the guitar xP

he wears this a lot!!!

this is what he looks like!!! i havent actually drawn them a full reference yet, i still need to. look out for that!!

i roleplay as him sometimes!!!

whenever a post is him talking, itll be set up like this:

text goes here

-dilemma danger

sometimes it wont have the "-dilemma danger" part, but only if ive already stated it earlier in the conversation :]

he is a MAJOR crash king. he has a singular brain cell and he does not use it hehe

hes got sharp teeth and a dirty blonde fluffy mullet that usually covers his eyes.

he actually is very good at fighting, when he needs to be!!

hes tall and lanky and has a diagonal scar from his cheek to his nose from a clap with some dracs.

he hatesssss firefights and hes not very good at shooting, so he usually carries around a knife! he still uses his gun though, just not often.

he likes zone five the most and is debating finding a place there to live, but he currently lives on the cusp of zone three and four.

he does have a group, but im still developing them :]

BLINKIES!!!

thanks for reading :D this ended up really long hehe

[massscara]

DRDT SPOILERS.

Theories and headcanons about the execution of the murderer of the second chapter.

And so... Since we know the murderer of this chapter (They is innocent, believe me), I want to share my guesses about their possible execution.

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My reasoning will begin with the fact that there are executions in danganronpa that not only reflect the killer's talent, but also contain things that they don't like ( Example: Mikan Tsumiki )

In her execution, you can see the oversize objects ( You can notice a large syringe, and then a huge hand and space appear ), which she doesn't like and is afraid of. All in order to make her fall into despair.

Following from Ace's Wikipedia, you can find out that he doesn't like horses and meat. ( But this is only from material things. I'll mention the rest later )

Of course, if he is a jockey, then the execution itself is more likely to involve horses, however, I would find his execution more interesting if it involves meat ( or some other food ). Based on these words, it can be concluded that there are two possible scenarios for his execution: a horse and food.

Food:

If we go on this trail, then since Ace has an eating disorder, then he can be under tremendous pressure from himself. He will either be forced to eat something, or he will soon become someone's food ( the same meat that he neglects )

Horses:

You can die in different ways because of horses, so I've given you a list of some historical figures who died because of a horse-related accident. Here are the highlights:

« He fell from his horse onto his sword and fell to his death »

« He was thrown from his horse into cold water and suffered a fatal heart attack or drowned as a result »

« He fell in front of a horse that stepped on his head »

« He fractured his skull when his horse stumbled and fell »

In general, I understand Ace why he is so afraid of horses. I think there are at least two possible scenarios ( they are divided into subtypes )

The first scenario :

I think a horse racing option is possible.

Subtype 1:

Horse racing contains a dangerous obstacle course. Ace goes through them all at first, but at the very last moment he messes up ( It is possible that Monotv cheated by giving impossible obstacles to overcome or outwitted him )

Subtype 2:

Ace successfully overcomes the same dangerous obstacle course, but his supposed opponent cheated and won. Ace's loss may anger those who bet money on him. That's why, let's say, they started throwing stones at him.

The second scenario :

Historical events. Executions of the Middle Ages. (both that I found are very similar )

Subtype 1:

To be hanged, drawn and quartered was a method of torturous capital punishment used principally to execute men convicted of high treason in medieval and early modern Britain and Ireland. The convicted traitor was fastened to a hurdle, or wooden panel, and drawn behind a horse to the place of execution, where he was then hanged (almost to the point of death), emasculated, disembowelled, beheaded, and quartered.

Subtype 2:

The remainder of the punishment might include hanging ( usually not to the death ), usually live disemboweling, burning of the entrails, beheading, and quartering. This last step was sometimes accomplished by tying each of the four limbs to a different horse and spurring them in different directions.

If it concerns 2 subtypes of the second scenario ( 1, in principle, too ), then it will be funny to put pressure on the moment with his already fragile neck.

And I'm going back a little to the moment when I was talking about Ace's dislikes! Of the non-material ones, he dislikes the following: being a jockey and being perceived as incompetent.

We know perfectly well that Ace is a rather short — tempered personality, most often acting impulsively due to aroused emotions. It can be assumed that his own execution will carry ridicule about his lack of professionalism and frivolous attitude to the sport in which he is so famous. It is possible that his entire execution will stupidly mock his desire to escape both from the killing game and from his daily life ( It was also the case with Teruteru, who was turned into his unloved food, and also presented on the cover of the execution in the form of a pig in honor of disrespect )

It is likely that in this scenario, he will be banally pissed off, which will make him act irrationally. And these actions of his based on negative emotions will push him to a fatal mistake.

That's all!

Thank you for your attention and time, because Ace is actually alive and not dead and it was all a prank hehehahHaehEhhaHahehe....