#sometimes i hate how easy it is to mimic

[hiddeninthe-veil]

.

[saddleups]

Low honor Arthur with a darling who got daddy issues? Please?

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 4.7k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . request , complete. LOW HONOR ARTHUR MORGAN X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . low honor arthur isn't the nicest guy. breeding, i couldn't help it. you're his best girl and he wants you to know that. p_rn w/o a plot !

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . actually proud of this? since working on my short!fic i've been trying to "mimic" arthur's voice better. oddly enough, it's easier for me to do it when he's low honor. he's a bastard and he says the meanest things but good grief! he sure knows how to make it up to you! thanks for requesting, i hope this captures the vibe <3

Sitting alone, waiting. The fire crackled low in the dark, casting faint shadows. There was something raw in the silence—an emptiness that lingered after him whenever he left. Arthur Morgan was no husband, not even close. Hell, he wasn't a boyfriend either. To others in the camp, you were just the "pretty little thing" he kept nearby for his own satisfaction. Sometimes you wondered if that's all you were to him too. Regardless, you stayed, because Arthur was all you had. And for as much as he was a bastard, he was your bastard.

Just as the embers started to die, you caught sight of him stumbling into camp, the night clinging to him like an old friend. He was battered—blood crusting over his knuckles, his face marred with fresh scratches and fading bruises. Each scar, each wound, he wore them like badges of honor, proof of the wild life he led. Yet here he was, staggering over to you with a look in eyes that was almost…needy.

Underneath normal circumstances, you'd run into his arms. Feet gravitating off the floor as Arthur wrapped you up in his arms, you'd sear your lips into his. The groans of commune fading as you stumble into your shared tent. Instead, you remain watching him stumble toward you.

"Hey now," he murmured, his voice thick and gravelly, reaching out for you as he sat down heavily on the tree stump nearby. "C'mon, pretty girl… ain't ya glad t'see me?"

You said nothing, just took a rag and dipped it in the bowl of water beside you. He was watching you, eyes soft in a way they rarely were.

"Oh. That damn look," you say just above a whisper.

"What look, baby?"

Arthur's fingers twitched, reaching toward your hip, but before he could make contact, you slapped his hand away without a word.

“Ow, darlin’,” he muttered, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Ain't no way t’treat a man who's been out fightin’ fer ya, is it?”

You ignored his words, the charm he tried to wrap around them like some fool’s gold trinket. You pressed the damp cloth to his forehead, dabbing at the blood smearing his brow and cheek in silence, ignoring his exagerrated winces and whimpers. His eyes searched your face, almost expectant, but you kept your expression steady, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of your love.

"Well, if yer not gonna say nothin'," he drawled, smirking in that way that made you ache and hate him all at once. "Guess I'll have t'find other ways t’make ya sweet again."

You clenched your jaw, finishing your task with swift, controlled motions. When you were done, you stood, turning away without another word, leaving him alone with nothing but the faint warmth of your touch and the silence that stretched in your absence.

Arthur watched you go, the easy grin slipping from his face as he sat alone on that stump, his fingers curling into fists, reopening wounds he hadn’t let heal.

The firelight flickered as you walked away, leaving Arthur sitting alone on the tree stump, though you hadn’t taken more than a few steps before you felt his presence behind you. His hand wrapped around your arm, firm yet careful, pulling you back against his chest. The scent of leather, smoke, and faint blood clung to him as his low, gruff voice sounded near your ear.

“Where d’ya think yer goin’, princess?” His grip was taut, but there was a warmth to it, a kind of possessiveness that he wore as naturally as the rough coat on his shoulders. “Thinkin' you could just walk away like that, after all I’ve done fer ya?”

You felt his arm snake around your waist, drawing you closer. His calloused fingers grazed your side, holding you there against him, reminding you just how easily he could keep you where he wanted.

“You know better than that,” he murmured, his lips just brushing your ear. “You’re mine, ain't ya? My pretty girl. Ain't nobody else in this world who’d take care of ya the way I do.”

A shiver ran through you as he tightened his grip, his voice dropping even lower, carrying that familiar mix of harshness and something close to tenderness. “Now, how ‘bout you show me a bit of that sweetness I been missin’? Not gonna act like you don’t want me just as much as I want you.”

You turned, meeting his gaze. There was a flicker in his eyes, something unspoken yet undeniable, and without waiting for a reply, he leaned in, his mouth pressing against yours, claiming you in a way that was rough and yet familiar. And as much as you wanted to pull away, his hold kept you grounded, unable to deny the undeniable pull he had over you. His lips felt oddly sweet, despite his demanor. He must've ate those peaches you packed for him. He must've thought of you, right?

Parting from the kiss for air, Arthur's grip remained firm. In response, you twisted in his arms, anger flashing in your eyes.

“Do you even know how worried I’ve been?” you snapped, shoving against his chest. “You disappear for weeks, not a single letter, not a damn word. I thought—” Your voice broke, the fear and frustration spilling out despite yourself.

Arthur’s brow furrowed, his grip loosening as he stared down at you. “Now, don’t start on that,” he muttered, the words defensive. “I been busy, doin' what needs doin'. You know how it is.”

You shook your head, unable to hide the hurt that had been festering in his absence. “What I know is you think you can just vanish and expect me to sit here like some fool, waiting on you. You don’t even care what that does to me, Arthur. Not one bit.”

His jaw tightened, eyes hardening. “Careful now,” he warned, but then, almost like he couldn’t help himself, he muttered, “Guess that’s why you’re so needy, huh? Daddy wasn’t around either, if I remember right.”

The words cut deeper than any bullet. You flinched, the anger giving way to something raw and wounded. A part of your history that was shared in confidence, not as possible ammunition in an argument. Lashes flutter as you look up at him, tears flooding in the rims of your eyes. At the first sight of tears, Arthur’s expression shifted the second he realized what he’d said, the regret visible in the tight line of his mouth as he loosened his hold. He attempted to wipe a tear, you refuse his touch deepening the guilt he felt.

“Hey now, darlin’,” he murmured, voice softer, and this time, he gently took hold of your arms, his touch almost tender. “Didn’t mean it like that. Just… you know I ain’t the best with words.”

You tried to pull away, but he held on, his thumb brushing over your shoulder, almost apologetic. “Look, it’s just—” he took a breath, gathering himself. “You mean more to me than anythin’. I know I’m gone a lot, and maybe I don’t always say the right things, but I keep you here ‘cause I can’t let go. Don’t wanna lose ya, alright?”

His eyes met yours, a hint of vulnerability in them that you rarely saw, and he pulled you closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. “I need ya. Ain’t nobody else who can put up with me like you do.”

The anger softened, though the hurt lingered. Arthur’s hands drifted to cradle your face, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Forgive me, darlin’. I’ll do better. I swear it.”

You stood there, the words he’d just said still echoing in your mind, but you didn’t reply. Instead, you reached out, taking his wrist in your hand, and without a word, you began leading him toward the small tent the two of you shared.

Arthur chuckled low under his breath, shaking his head. “Oh, so now you’re givin’ orders, huh? Didn’t take ya for the bossy type, sweetheart.”

You shot him a look over your shoulder but said nothing, and his smirk faded as he followed you, the quiet between you both heavy and unspoken. Once inside, you gestured toward the thin pallet on the ground, barely even glancing at him.

“Lay down,” you instructed, your voice steady.

Arthur’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, the usual glint in them softened by something else, something almost vulnerable. He held your gaze, his expression shifting as he took you in, then, without a fight, he lowered himself to the bedroll. Arching himself up on his elbows, Arthur watches you in silence, as though waiting for you to make the next move.

You settled yourself on Arthur’s lap, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders, watching his surprise turn into something far more expectant as his eyes drifted over you. He looked like he was already expecting something else entirely.

“Listen close, Morgan,” you said, voice low but firm. “Tomorrow, you’re going into town and buying me a new dress. Something nice. To make up for the way you talked to me.”

Arthur raised a brow, a lazy smirk curving his lips as he streched his back, hands drifting to your hips. “Oh, so now I’m runnin’ errands, too? What’s next, princess—gonna have me pickin’ out your fancy shoes?” he teased, voice dripping with sarcasm. His fingers tightened on your waist, and you could feel the shift in his grip, the weight of his gaze that said he wasn’t too broken up about you being here, right where he wanted you.

You held his gaze, unflinching. “If I wanted new shoes, you’d be buyin’ those too. Lucky for you, I’m only askin’ for a dress.”

He chuckled, low and dangerous, his fingers tracing small circles along your waist as he looked up at you, clearly relishing the control he still felt, even if he was playing along. “You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?” He let his hand drift up your side, a smug grin spreading as he spoke. “Bossin’ me around, actin' all high and mighty. But let’s not pretend that dress is all ya came here for, darlin’.”

He looked at you, his eyes dark with that rough, insistent need he barely tried to hide. But you kept your cool, leaning in just close enough that he could feel your breath against his skin.

“You’re goin’ to town tomorrow, Arthur,” you repeated, each word soft but unwavering. “And if you want me to be sweet for you, you’ll come back with what I asked for.”

For a moment, he didn’t answer, his eyes narrowing as if he were weighing his choices. Then, with a quiet grunt, he leaned back, his smirk fading just enough to show a hint of compliance.

“All right, all right,” he muttered, feigned reluctance in his tone. “But don’t go gettin’ any ideas ‘bout makin’ this a habit.”

You gave a small, satisfied smile, and though you could tell he wanted more, he held back, just this once, watching you with that defiant glint in his eye and the promise of what was to come. It was almost like he was relishing in your newfound dominance, proud of his girl for standing up against a bastard like him.

However, his impatience had gotten the better of him. Arthur’s hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of your dress as he pulled you closer. He sat up with ease, adjusting your frame atop his. The rough texture of his calloused palms sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with the tension that hung heavy in the air between you both.

“You sure know how to keep a man waitin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, like the scrape of stone against steel. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and piercing, filled with a mixture of hunger and something deeper—something possessive that made your heart pound in your chest.

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze without flinching, unwilling to reward him so easily. “Maybe I just like seeing you squirm, Morgan.”

Arthur chuckled, a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrated through his chest and into yours. “Oh, I’m squirmin’ alright, darlin’. Just not the way you think.”

His hands shifted, one sliding up your back while the other drifted lower, fingers brushing boldly over the curve of your rear. “Ever thought ‘bout what it’d be like if I didn’t come back one day? Hmm?” His voice dropped, the hint of a challenge in it. “If I just disappeared, left ya here all alone like some poor, helpless damsel?”

Your breath caught for a moment at his words, but you forced yourself to stay steady. “Don’t flatter yourself, Arthur. You’re not that important.”

His lips curved into a slow, wolfish grin. “Liar,” he muttered, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours, noses almost touching. “You wouldn’t be stickin’ around this long if I wasn’t.”

You could feel his breath warm against your face, tempting and maddening, but you held your ground, refusing to give him the satisfaction. Instead, you let your hands trail down his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his worn shirt.

“Maybe I just like having someone to boss around,” you murmured, fingers tracing the edge of his belt. “Or maybe…” You paused, biting your lip before continuing, “Maybe I just like seeing you beg.”

Arthur’s eyes darkened at that, a glint of challenge sparking as he tilted his head back, his smirk widening. “Beg?” he drawled, mockingly. “You think you got it in ya to make me beg, princess?”

You shrugged, playing it cool despite the way your heart raced. “Guess we’ll see.”

Before he could get a word in, you moved swiftly, straddling his lap and pinning his wrists down. His brows shot up, surprised, but he quickly narrowed his eyes, a thrill of excitement glinting in their depths.

“Goin’ down on me?” he asked, voice low, thick with amusement.

You shook your head, leaning in until your lips were just a breath away from his. “Not yet. First, we need to talk.”

He groaned, exasperation clear in his tone. “Damn it, woman, I said I’d get ya the damn dress! Don’t tell me we’re really gonna do this talkin’ thing now,” he muttered, the frustration in his voice barely masking the eagerness simmering underneath.

You ignored his frustration, instead focusing on the way his chest heaved beneath you, the steady rise and fall of his breath. “How many times have I told you to be careful out there?” You asked softly, punctuating each word with a gentle nip to his earlobe. “How many times have I begged you to come back to me safe?”

Arthur’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with something that looked like guilt. “I know, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice gruff. “But sometimes it ain’t up to me.”

You nodded, understanding but not willing to let him off the hook so easily. “I get that, Arthur. But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to worry.”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, looking up at you with a strange mix of vulnerability and strength. “I’ll try harder, alright? For you.”

There was a sincerity in his tone that made your heart swell, but you knew better than to let him off too easy. “We’ll see,” you said again, this time with a hint of a smile. “Now… how about we start with you showing me just how sorry you really are?”

Arthur’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, his smirk returning full force. “Oh, you want to play games, huh?” He flexed his wrists, testing your grip, but you held firm. “Alright then… what do you want, pretty girl?”

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.

“First… I want you to watch.”

As you rise to your feet, the tension between you and Arthur charges the air. The fire outside casts flickering shadows through the thin canvas of the tent, playing across your body. You unbutton your blouse slowly, teasingly, the fabric whispering against your skin as it parts. Your eyes never leave Arthur's, watching the way his breath hitches, his gaze darkening with desire.

You let the blouse fall to the ground, revealing the simple chemise underneath. Your movements are calculated to draw out the anticipation. You reach behind your back, slipping the straps down your arms, letting the chemise join the blouse on the ground. Arthur’s eyes follow every inch of exposed skin, his fingers twitching as if ready to touch but restrained by some invisible tether.

Next, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your skirt, glancing down at Arthur with a coy smile. “Like what you see?” you ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Arthur’s throat works as he swallows, his voice rough when he finally replies. “Damn right I do,” he growls, his eyes burning with intensity.

“But don’t think for a second that this is just about lookin’.”

You lower the skirt, step out of it, leaving you in just your undergarments. The cool air touches your heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise along your arms and legs. You stand there, basking in his hungry gaze, feeling powerful and desired.

Arthur’s hands flex on the bedroll, his restraint evident in the tenseness of his muscles. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice thick with want. “Let me show you how much I need ya.”

You move closer, your hips swaying with each step, drawing out his impatience. When you’re within reach, Arthur’s hands snap out, pulling you down onto the bedroll. He rolls over, positioning himself above you, those same calloused hands roaming over your body with a reverence that takes your breath away.

He kisses your neck, teeth grazing gently before his lips press a tender kiss to the spot. “M’gonna take care of ya,” he whispers, his voice vibrating against your skin. “Keep ya safe, make damn sure nothin’ ever hurts ya again.”

His mouth moves lower, tracing down your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your skin. His hand cups your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple. “And I ain’t just talkin’ about buyin’ a dress, darlin’. I’m thinkin’ bout buildin’ somethin’ real with ya.”

You arch into his touch, feeling the heat pooling low in your belly. His words send a shiver through you, stirring emotions that go beyond physical desire. “What do you mean?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly.

Arthur lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours. There’s a raw honesty in them that makes your heart ache. “How ‘bout you change that name of yours to Mrs. Morgan?” he drawled, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Get rid of that man’s ugly name, show the world ya got someone who ain't ever gonna walk out on ya.”

He kisses the valleys between your chest, his warm breath all too familiar. His hands firmly grip your thighs, massaging the flesh as he punctuates his words.

“I wanna marry you,” he says simply, as if stating a fact. “Make you mine proper, not just in name. And…” He pauses, swallowing hard, “I wanna give you a baby. Our baby.”

The weight of his words settles over you, heavy and warm, filling the hollow places inside you that had ached so long. You reach up, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. “You promise?” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“I swear it,” he answers, his voice fierce. “On my life, I swear it.”

With that vow hanging in the air between you, Arthur kisses you again, deeper this time, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth. The world narrows down to just the two of you, the heat of his body, the roughness of his beard against your skin. He shifts slightly, maneuvering until he’s positioned between your legs, his hardness pressing against your core.

You tilt your hips up, inviting him closer, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Arthur groans, the sound muffled by your kiss, his fingers digging into your hip as he grinds against you. The pressure builds, a slow burn that you both feed with desperate motions.

Arthur breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and ragged. “Tell me you want this too,” he rasps, his voice strained with need. “Tell me you want me to be your man, to give you everythin’.”

You nod, unable to speak past the lump in your throat, your body trembling with the force of your arousal. With a swallow, you shudder into his mouth, "I'm yours...and you're mine."

Arthur’s grip tightens, and he enters you with one smooth thrust, filling you completely. The coarse hairs of his pubic region scrape against your tender skin, sending jolts of both pain and pleasure throughout your body. You gasp for air, your lungs struggling to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

"Take all of me," you beg, voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you deep inside."

As he sinks deeper into you, your wetness engulfs him, slicking his shaft and creating a slippery rhythm. Every thrust is like fire, burning through you until you can no longer contain your moans. The thought of maintaining composure for the sake of the camp is a distant memory as you give in to the primal urges consuming you.

"It's been too long," you whisper breathlessly. "I've missed you..."

But Arthur only grunts in response, lost in the ecstasy of being buried inside you again. "Missed ya too, darlin'," he manages to say through gritted teeth. "Missed how tight you always get around me." He pauses, making sure you're okay before beginning a steady pace, each movement deliberate and calculated. "I'll protect you," he growls. "Love you and our baby better than anyone else ever could."

Your nails dig into his back, anchoring yourself to him as waves of pleasure wash over you. His words feel like promises that could actually come true in this moment, surrounded by his love and strength.

Despite the prolonged desire that built up inside Arthur while he was away, he kept his movements rhythmic. Though he was eager, the sensation of you around him was one he wanted to drown in. Your body trembled underneath him, frenzying for release. "Come inside me," you gasp, eyes locked with his.

Arthur's calloused hands moved with surprising gentleness as he took your leg and lifted it, placing it over his shoulder. The shift in position allowed him to angle his cock deeper inside you, making you gasp at the sudden fullness. His thumbs pressed against your inner thighs, spreading your folds apart, revealing the glistening pink of your arousal. He was mesmerized by the sight, Arthur couldn't help but to stare at the way his cock disappeared into you.

"You’re so pretty," he murmured, his voice rough with need. "So beautiful when you take me like this. Just imagine how pretty you'll be when yer my wife, carryin’ my child."

What a thrill it was, the thought of it all. More than a bastard, but a husband too? Right now, all that mattered was the way he filled you, the way his thrusts grew more insistent, drawing gasps and moans from deep within you.

"That’s it, darlin'," he encouraged, his grip tightening on your thigh. "Take it. Take all of me. You’re doin’ so good, so damn good for me."

His praise fueled your arousal, making you push back against him, accepting every inch he gave. The pleasure was building, coiling tighter and tighter inside you, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Arthur’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he watched you, his own pleasure evident in the way his hips snapped forward with increasing urgency.

"Look at'cha," he whispered, his voice thick with admiration. "You are perfect. My perfect girl, takin’ me like a pro. Soon enough, you’ll be wearin’ my ring, feelin’ my baby growin’ inside you."

The intensity of his words, coupled with the way he was driving into you, made your vision blur with tears of pleasure. You could feel the warmth pooling low in your belly, the pressure building to an almost unbearable point. Arthur’s hands shifted, one still holding your thigh steady, while the other moved to cradle your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped.

"Almost there, sweetheart," he said, his voice a low growl. "Gonna make you come hard, just like you deserve. Just like I promised."

His fingers dug into your skin, not painfully, but possessively, as if he were branding you with his touch. The sensation, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips, pushed you over the edge. Your body stiffened, muscles clenching around him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. You cried out, your voice trembling with the force of your orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Arthur grunted, his own climax nearing as he continued to thrust into you, milking every last drop of pleasure from the moment. His hand left your face to press against your lower back, urging you to stay close, to keep taking him until he was spent. The combination of his praise and his unrelenting touch was too much, sending you spiraling through another wave of pleasure even as the first one began to wane.

"That’s it," he growled, his voice breaking as he finally reached his own peak. "Come for me, darlin'. Come hard, just like I know you can."

His words, laced with raw emotion and possessive heat, pushed you over once more, your body convulsing around him as you rode out the storm of your climax. Arthur followed soon after, his body tensing as he spilled himself deep inside you, his release marked by a guttural groan that echoed in the small tent.

For a moment, neither of you moved, locked in the aftermath of passion. Arthur’s breathing slowly returned to normal, his hands still resting on you, holding you close as if afraid to let go. You could feel the sticky warmth of his release between your legs, the evidence of his claim mingling with your own wetness.

"Damn, darlin'," he muttered, his voice still thick with satisfaction. "You never cease to amaze me. Always takin’ me so good, always wantin’ more."

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, the mixture of love and frustration swirling within you. Despite everything, despite the arguments and the hurt, there was no denying the bond between you, the way he owned every part of you, body and soul.

"Don’t get used to it," you managed to say, your voice shaky but defiant. "I ain’t some doll you can play with and put away whenever you please."

Arthur chuckled, low and dark, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip. "Oh, princess, trust me. I know exactly what you are. And I wouldn’t have it any other way."

His words meant something to you, the implications clear. He wasn’t just talking about tonight, about this moment. He was talking about forever, about the life you would build together, the family you would raise. The thought both thrilled and terrified you, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

But before you could respond, before you could decide what to do next, Arthur’s hand shifted, moving down to cup your ass, pulling you closer. His cock, already softening, twitched inside you, a reminder of the connection that refused to break.

"Now," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "How ‘bout we see if we can make that baby together, just like we talked about?"

You shivered at the suggestion, the thought of carrying his child both exhilarating and daunting. But before you could answer, before you could even form a coherent thought, Arthur was already moving, adjusting you on his lap, positioning himself for another round.

"Let’s make sure," he whispered, his voice a seductive promise. "Make sure that when I come home with that dress, there’s somethin’ else waitin’ for me too."

[theexaltedbride]

Rabbit X Human Female Reader Headcannons (NSFW)

-Rabbit has once used his enhanced speed to slap and play with your ass and your breasts like they were bongos. Though if you tell him its too rough on your breasts he will be happy to just play music off your ass with his hands like a skilled drummer.

-If you ever show him that one knife fight scene from the Mask of Zorro, Rabbit would be happy to recreate it with you. his speed lets him be much more careful with things, even if it looks like he's moving recklessly. He's fast enough to deflect and dodge bullets, cutting clothes off without hurting you would be easy.

"You can consider it a reward if you do well in our actual sword training sessions together." He will tease you, and study the scene to see how he might be able to mimic it or improve it. The real challenge will be for you to strip him. At least he's durable so he can handle a cut or two.

-Rabbit can actually open his mouth very wide and likes to show you how much larger his tongue is to that of a human. Yes, your Rabbit gladly eats ass and will eat pussy like a starving man being given a birthday cake. He's not a coward about it the way some men are and treats it like someone saying they hate eating candy.

"More for me then!"

He's also skilled at using that tongue for more than giving speeches or sampling tea. He will do things to your clit that no human ever could. When he hears that many men struggle to do even that much it draws a laugh from him.

"How is it you humans say it? Ah yes! 'Skill Issue'."

Whenever you say how he is getting on your nerves and pushing your buttons, he likes to reply. "I know how you make you feel better, I just need to push one specific button." To which he will then lick his lips with his tongue or make some other kind of gesture with it to really hammer home what he means.

-A few times now Rabbit has wanted to chase you, just to really burn his stamina. You can only do it on Earth where he knows a random demon won't try to kidnap you. But each time he does it he gets such a rush, his cock throbbing, practically leading the way for him, and veins pulsing with need as he gives you a five to ten minute head start to run naked (save for some shoes or sandals to protect your feet from twigs and rocks) through the woods before he runs after you at the speed a rabbit is known for, getting his blood pumping, and his desire for you only making him want to catch you all the quicker. Once he catches you, his tongue will plunge into your throat, as his cock plunges into any available entrance.

Sometimes he can't even manage that, and just settles for grinding against you, his truly feral side coming out as he barely speak beyond huffs and gasps of pure desire.

And all of that desire, that lust, that need, that love, is directed solely at you.

-Sometimes when Rabbit is eating you out, his nose will press against you and it is surprisingly cold, which creates such a contrast with his breathing because his breath is hot (and only further throws you for a loop because his fur is smooth when it brushes against your thighs).

-Shower sex is entirely possible with Rabbit, he's not a canine so he doesn't produce that 'wet dog' smell, especially if using actual soaps when on Earth (and honestly that kind of experience is only possible on Earth).

-If you want Rabbit to be a Daddy Dom in the bedroom he certainly can be, and can deliver spankings like nobody's business. Just with his voice alone he can set the tone, and his demeanor can go from posh and proper gentlemanly, to stern daddy at the drop of a hat.

He will however refuse to spank you with anything but his own hand (either with gloves on or gloves off). He cares for your safety and won't risk accidentally hurting you with a paddle or belt because he's too strong. He will also only play like that in the bedroom. He has an operation to run and will not have his authority questioned by anyone because he can't keep it in the bedroom.

If you get too excited during your 'punishment' he will take notice and run a single finger along your lips before bringing it up to his mouth to taste it.

"Naughty girl, who told you to make a mess? I certainly didn't. That will be ten more spanks for each cheek, and I expect you to count them out missy!"

-Aftercare cuddle time is mandatory after anything rough and even more intense lovemaking. He knows he can be intimidating and wants to make sure you're okay.

-Rabbit sometimes has a thing for keeping you naked in the bedroom while he wears a suit. Your body is entirely exposed to him, and he can enjoy every part of it, its one of the few times he enjoys making a mess of his suit as you lunge at one another and really go at it.

-Rabbit explicitly refuses to have sex with you after a battle, especially if a human was killed. He does not want to associate these emotions together. Sex is sex, fighting is fighting. They should never mix. You are his source of comfort, and he doesn't want to poison that.

-Once you and rabbit were making love in his office in Makai when a demon burst in demanding to discuss business with Rabbit (something about wanting something special smuggled from Earth to Makai). He'd been told he had to wait, and refused to do so. Now he'd burst in, and Rabbit had to adapt to the situation.

Rabbit locked eyes with the demon, and kept thrusting his hips as he laid you out on his desk.

"It can wait until my current meeting is finished." He told the demon, and you. But with how his thumb stroked your hand, you knew he had a plan.

It was a display of dominance. If he backed out or cowered or tried to cover up, then he would look weak and other demons might think they could get away with this kind of behavior. So, he kept going while locking eyes with the intruder and didn't truly speak to them until he'd had his orgasm (A little bit after he'd made you gasp beneath him, to further show his talents and skill). The demon had intruded trying to put Rabbit on the backfoot, and was left feeling awkward and embarrassed as rabbit turned his own trick around against him.

No one ever tried that again with Rabbit, though you suspect he might actually enjoy pulling that trick again.

-At his most excited he puts new meaning to the term bunny hopping' when slamming himself into you. Its like he's a speed demon (well...technically he is?) and the only thing to calm him down is reaching three or four orgasms with you. His refractory period is insane, but he's got enough control to not let it be an issue.

This also applies to when you are riding his cock (be it cowgirl or reverse) and Rabbit suddenly gets it into his head to thrust upwards and use the bed to help give him some extra bounce in his movements, and really get you bouncing on him.

-Rabbit once tied the end of his monocle chain to a nipple ring on the same side of his body. He's not sure if he likes it, but is waiting to see how you feel on it next time you're intimate together.

-Not many demons can safely give oral sex, so it has become one of his favorite things from you, especially if you stain his body with your lipstick. It really gets the rabbit flustered, because his white fur is like a canvas for you to paint.

-When it comes to sex toys, he's not much of a fan.

"I can satisfy you better than any piece of plastic. That being said, there is one I do like." He says as he clicks a button for a remote controlled vibrator hidden inside of you.

"I do love to hear you moan."

-Rabbit didn't fully understand human menstrual cycles at first. But once he did, he began to save something special in mind for the day you showed signs of being genuinely pregnant with his Kits, he will make a comment to you of.

"Alice, you're late."

Any punch or kick or thrown pillow his way to silence his laughter will be utterly worth it. If he realizes he's going to be a dad, he's going to stock up on dad jokes, the worse they are the more he will tell them.

(And if you're into it, he will absolutely tease you about how many Kits you're going to make together. Rabbits are well known for multiplying.)

-------

Couple playlist.

"Better than Drugs' ~Skillet.

'Separate Ways.' ~Journey.

[starryylies]

Tf-141 and Roblox.

<This is a kinda satire post cuz I’m stupid and I can’t think. Im so sorry if its really out of character and stupid but hope you enjoy>

Reader is younger (19-20), cussing, mention of bullying kids (satire), ooc, live love Roblox and yes

~ Me on Roblox ~

Price-

-he didn’t know what Roblox was until you explained the whole thing to him.

-he first thought it was a blocks game for kids

-he calls it roadblox 💀

-you made him start off playing speed run with you since you both could play together and race :D

-but long story short he could not finish through the first level.

-he always strayed away from the path and ended up dying more than 7 times in 5 minutes.

-easy to say he got frustrated and stopped playing the game :(((

-you convinced him to try another game which is easier Better for beginners

- he agreed and you made him play tower of hell

- he hates it.

-played speed draw once and got annoyed that his masterpiece of a drawing lost to a scrambled egg.

-doesn’t play Roblox again. Buys you robux though.

Simon-

-‘’what the fuck is robust love!?!?’’

-‘siiii it’s robux’

-‘I ain’t playing that

-‘you don’t have to play just pay 🥺’

-‘I ain’t paying for that unless I know what this shit is’

- he regrets saying that.

-you made him play aimblox.

-he fails miserably.

-calls it a stupid game for kids (HOW DARE HE!?!)

-you get pissed at him. (Pissed as in you don’t talk to him for a day)

-he makes it up to you by buying robux.

-(love is in the air again 😍)

-won’t ever call it a stupid kids game again. (Learnt his lesson)

-you find him trying to play Roblox again when he’s alone, trying to get better.

-he will deny that he enjoys the game till the end of time.

-he reaches lvl70 in a week.

-blames you for making him addicted to the game.

-loves you though. (Loves the game too won’t admit it though)

Johnny‘’Soap’’MacTavish-

-likes shooting games a lot.

-plays lots of themmmm.

-has a family with three kids in Brookhaven with two pet chickens which he sometimes eats.

-(I’m vegetarian)

-you’re his family on Brookhaven and he named the kids with your name and his name mixed.

-will fight kids in speed draw. Literally.

-jk he doesn’t bully kids he just starts writing in hashtags when he’s pissed. Or Scottish.

-loves breaking into other peoples (gaz’s) home in Brookhaven.

-loves going to those restaurant games with you.

Kyle ‘gaz’ Garrick-

-pro gamer.

-loves zombie uprising and many shooting games.

-loves those short horror story games.

-loves going on them with you to scare the shit outta you. (He’s the one who gets scared)

-pretty rich in Brookhaven.

-has lots of robux on him.

-has finished all the stages in speed run with all the dimensions.

-pro in tower of hell, like actual pro.

-tried playing mimic, he never tried again.

-plays the special forces stimulator just to make fun of it.

-his house in Brookhaven always gets broken into.

-realises it’s soap breaking into his house.

＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊┈┈┈┈＊

[aspd-culture]

Sorry ig in advance since you get questions a lot but got curious about a few things

1. Is it normal for pwASPD to view unbeneficial relationships as chores? I know I, a likely prosocial, when I don't see the benefit in a relationship, I have to view it as being a chore to continue it.

2. If a connection is established between harming others and being harmed, will a pwASPD, for lack of a better term, be able to mimic empathy or remorse?

3. Do you know if pwASPD and another comorbid disorder, if the other disorder causes already low or fragile self esteem (like another cluster B), can seem like they don't have ASPD?

These are mostly for project research but also out of curiosity because I can

Nothing to be sorry for!!/gen

1.) Oh yes. So very, very much yes. And honestly, it's even worse than a chore - more like if a dead-end job decided to stop paying you but you'd go to jail if you quit. If you've ever seen a kid stuck dress shopping with their mother on TV, that's the way I would like to act through every single interaction with an equal part useless and annoying but unavoidable prosocial irl. Every single non-Exception prosocial is that coworker you hate who won't leave you alone./hj Joking aside, not all prosocials are actually that annoying actually. So it kind of depends; sometimes it's fine at least for me.

2.) Yeah, I'd say so. This goes differently for all of us, but for the most part "connection formed" would probably go in the direction of an Exception, and that's where some symptoms of ASPD are lessened for those of us that have them. That includes often having some degree of effective empathy and/or a desire to work on cognitive empathy with them in particular (I use them as practice to make the necessary use of cognitive empathy less annoying with non-Exceptions). Ditto with remorse for some pwASPD, though for me in particular that depends on the Exception in question. Some still do not bring out remorse in me for whatever reason. This is a good place to note that actually, since I don't think I've mentioned this elsewhere. Exceptions do not all have to be the same even for the same pwASPD. Two friends may have different symptoms they alleviate vs don't affect vs worsen, and of course platonic vs sexual vs romantic Exceptions often vary in that as well. For me and a few other pwASPD I've met, this may also occur with some groups of people who aren't Exceptions but cause an Exception-esque response. For me, kids get that as most do other people struggling with mental health disorders beyond just depression and anxiety (nothing easy about those two it's just in our current world most people have those). If I hurt a kid's feelings, 25/10 times I am going to cry with them or force myself not to. And that will vary for each pwASPD based on how much social neurological development was completed before it was fundamentally changed and started developing antisocially too. Some of us have more empathy than others, or more remorse than others (and vice versa) in general, so that'll impact those situations too.

3.) So this depends on what you define as "seem like they don't have ASPD", though it won't be self-esteem that affects that. Generally I'd point that more in the direction of NPD. But yeah, looking at the symptoms of ASPD, there are a few specific disorders that cause someone who very much has ASPD to not be diagnosed and/or believed both professionally and personally. In personal relationships, it's honestly just not being a serial k*ller that will get most to think you don't have it. Professionally, you're looking at disorders that cause social problems (such as autism, SAD - social anxiety, and GAD - generalized anxiety), impulse control (ADHD mostly), emotional instability (bipolar disorder, IED - intermittent explosive, ODD - oppositional defiance, and yeah your other cluster b PDs). There are others that make a whole lot less sense imo to get in the way of an ASPD diagnosis too. Schizophrenia comes to mind, with some professionals thinking that it's just... so many episodes of psychosis that it starts to look like ASPD which, don't even get me started on how much of a medical failure it is that I have heard of that specific thing happening. But mostly, it's going to be the ones I listed previously. None of these are mutually exclusive with ASPD, but they have symptoms that overlap with or mimic ASPD's, and so you'll have genuinely good professionals who are trying to avoid over/misdiagnosis where it applies to a *very* stigmatized disorder, and you'll have lazy ones that don't care to try and pick out which it is if not both. That will all just depend on the pwASPD's presentation of symptoms. I had more than one professional refuse to believe I had ASPD, and my (very lovely and dilligent/gen) psychiatrist was also leaning to just diagnose autism until I said some line about the reason I try for social interaction not being because I want to but because everyone has to to be able to get what they need in life. Once she realized I see it as an irritating requirement to associate with other people - even ones I kind of like - she quickly turned on that and diagnosed both. That's why it's important to speak openly and with as much of the mask removed as possible without getting yourself in trouble. They will try and avoid labelling you with something like this unless they are 1000% sure because of its connotations and the social and professional implications of having ASPD. It is very possible to pick out which is which or if it's more than one with overlap in regards to any set of comorbidities even outside of ASPD, but it takes a lot of work for that to be done properly especially if you're still masking in front of them.

I have no issue with anyone asking just out of curiosity by the way. Seriously like I guess I see why some people feel weird about it, but genuine interest is the reason why disorders get looked into, researched, and potentially normalized and accepted. There is nothing wrong with being interested in any topic as long as you're respectful in your interactions with sensitive subjects, and this ask was completely respectful, so I'm happy to answer it./gen

Plain text below the cut:

Nothing to be sorry for!!/gen

1.) Oh yes. So very, very much yes. And honestly, it's even worse than a chore - more like if a dead-end job decided to stop paying you but you'd go to jail if you quit. If you've ever seen a kid stuck dress shopping with their mother on TV, that's the way I would like to act through every single interaction with an equal part useless and annoying but unavoidable prosocial irl. Every single non-Exception prosocial is that coworker you hate who won't leave you alone./hj Joking aside, not all prosocials are actually that annoying actually. So it kind of depends; sometimes it's fine at least for me.

2.) Yeah, I'd say so. This goes differently for all of us, but for the most part "connection formed" would probably go in the direction of an Exception, and that's where some symptoms of ASPD are lessened for those of us that have them. That includes often having some degree of effective empathy and/or a desire to work on cognitive empathy with them in particular (I use them as practice to make the necessary use of cognitive empathy less annoying with non-Exceptions). Ditto with remorse for some pwASPD, though for me in particular that depends on the Exception in question. Some still do not bring out remorse in me for whatever reason. This is a good place to note that actually, since I don't think I've mentioned this elsewhere. Exceptions do not all have to be the same even for the same pwASPD. Two friends may have different symptoms they alleviate vs don't affect vs worsen, and of course platonic vs sexual vs romantic Exceptions often vary in that as well. For me and a few other pwASPD I've met, this may also occur with some groups of people who aren't Exceptions but cause an Exception-esque response. For me, kids get that as most do other people struggling with mental health disorders beyond just depression and anxiety (nothing easy about those two it's just in our current world most people have those). If I hurt a kid's feelings, 25/10 times I am going to cry with them or force myself not to. And that will vary for each pwASPD based on how much social neurological development was completed before it was fundamentally changed and started developing antisocially too. Some of us have more empathy than others, or more remorse than others (and vice versa) in general, so that'll impact those situations too.

3.) So this depends on what you define as "seem like they don't have ASPD", though it won't be self-esteem that affects that. Generally I'd point that more in the direction of NPD. But yeah, looking at the symptoms of ASPD, there are a few specific disorders that cause someone who very much has ASPD to not be diagnosed and/or believed both professionally and personally. In personal relationships, it's honestly just not being a serial k*ller that will get most to think you don't have it. Professionally, you're looking at disorders that cause social problems (such as autism, SAD - social anxiety, and GAD - generalized anxiety), impulse control (ADHD mostly), emotional instability (bipolar disorder, IED - intermittent explosive, ODD - oppositional defiance, and yeah your other cluster b PDs).

There are others that make a whole lot less sense imo to get in the way of an ASPD diagnosis too. Schizophrenia comes to mind, with some professionals thinking that it's just... so many episodes of psychosis that it starts to look like ASPD which, don't even get me started on how much of a medical failure it is that I have heard of that specific thing happening. But mostly, it's going to be the ones I listed previously. None of these are mutually exclusive with ASPD, but they have symptoms that overlap with or mimic ASPD's, and so you'll have genuinely good professionals who are trying to avoid over/misdiagnosis where it applies to a very stigmatized disorder, and you'll have lazy ones that don't care to try and pick out which it is if not both. That will all just depend on the pwASPD's presentation of symptoms. I had more than one professional refuse to believe I had ASPD, and my (very lovely and dilligent/gen) psychiatrist was also leaning to just diagnose autism until I said some line about the reason I try for social interaction not being because I want to but because everyone has to to be able to get what they need in life. Once she realized I see it as an irritating requirement to associate with other people - even ones I kind of like - she quickly turned on that and diagnosed both. That's why it's important to speak openly and with as much of the mask removed as possible without getting yourself in trouble. They will try and avoid labelling you with something like this unless they are 1000% sure because of its connotations and the social and professional implications of having ASPD. It is very possible to pick out which is which or if it's more than one with overlap in regards to any set of comorbidities even outside of ASPD, but it takes a lot of work for that to be done properly especially if you're still masking in front of them.

I have no issue with anyone asking just out of curiosity by the way. Seriously like I guess I see why some people feel weird about it, but genuine interest is the reason why disorders get looked into, researched, and potentially normalized and accepted. There is nothing wrong with being interested in any topic as long as you're respectful in your interactions with sensitive subjects, and this ask was completely respectful, so I'm happy to answer it./gen

[ladytauria]

“I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.” chose your ship >:)

i went with jaysteph, 'cause i haven't written for them yet & they've been on my mind lately <3

i hope i wrote steph okay; i'm still feeling out her characterization ^^;

“So,” Steph says, perching on the arm of the couch like there aren’t two open seats right there in front of her. “Here’s how this is gonna work. I’m gonna ask you how you are, and you’re gonna answer me honestly.”

Jason crosses his arms. “You boss Tim around like this too?”

“Sure do,” she says breezily. “You’ve seen me do it.”

Jason purses his mouth. He isn’t pouting—though the look Steph gives him insinuates she feels otherwise. His arms twitch. He barely stops himself from crossing them over his chest, or slumping back into the couch. All of which would only further her—mistaken—impression.

When he doesn’t say anything else, Steph says, “So… Jason. How are you?”

“Peachy,” he bites.

Steph crosses her wrists and mimics the sound of an incorrect buzzer. “Nuh-uh, buddy, try again.”

“Oh my god,” Jason says. His head falls back against the couch.

“Look, I know emotional constipation is like—our whole thing, but… a little honesty here isn’t going to kill you,” Steph says. “I mean— Do you want me to bring up the B-word? ‘Cause I’ll do it, if it means we can bypass all… this.” She gestures vaguely.

Jason grimaces at the ceiling. “Please tell me the B-word is breakfast. As in, you want breakfast for dinner and will let this go if I agree to make you waffles.”

She doesn’t even dignify that with an answer. Which—yeah. Fair. If Steph wants waffles for dinner, Steph gets waffles for dinner, no bribery required. He’s easy like that. (It’s that thousand-watt smile—the way it leaves him weak at the knees, stomach fluttering. All that romance novel shit he never thought he’d actually have.)

Jason sighs, throwing an arm over his face. He loves that she cares. Really—he does. But he still hates talking about it. Like—okay. Some of it is easy. He can talk about how pissed he is that the Joker is still alive any day of the week. But when you get down to the other shit, the personal shit…

It’s harder. The words stick in his throat, like he’s swallowed a big glob of peanut butter, or like he’s got the worst flu of his life.

But Steph is asking—and. He’s trying to be honest with her. Even about the shit he doesn’t want to talk about.

Also, she’s serious about bringing up Bruce. So. There’s that.

 “How am I?” he repeats, as he picks through the snarled up briar patch growing in his chest. “I’m— not great.” Understatement. He feels like he’s unraveling at the seams, lately. Like, if he isn’t careful, eventually he’s going to unwind completely. “Everything has just been… a lot.” 

Steph slips off the arm of the couch; tucking herself up beside him. He can smell the honey of her body wash; the coconut of her shampoo. It’s nice. Almost as nice as the warmth of her, or the fingers that find his hair, toying gently with his curls.

“A lot?” she repeats, softer now.

“Yeah.” He drops his arm, twisting his torso so he’s curled toward her. He rests his hand on her hip, stroking it with his thumb over her shirt. “I don’t— I can’t point to one thing,” he says quietly. “It’s Bruce, a little bit.” It’s always Bruce, and often more than just ‘a little bit.’ “The city, too. Feels like—like nothing I’m doing, nothing we’re doing is helping. Changing anything. An’ I know that’s not true. I’ve seen the people we’ve helped. But— the bad shit just keeps happening, and. It just. Feels hopeless, sometimes. A lot of the time.” He pauses.

“An’... I’ve been thinking again. About all the stuff I missed out on. An’ I know it’s not too late for all of it, I know I can still— I can go to college. We can make an identity for me, somethin’ I can live in. But, I just. I think about balancing that with everything else, and it just— It’s a lot. I see you do it, and you— Baby, you do it amazingly, and— I want that too, but—”

Steph quiets him with a gentle finger to his mouth. She lays that hand on his chest, tracing the fading graphic on his tee. The other hand stays in his hair. “It is a lot,” she says quietly. “But it’s also nice, to have that break. That connection. Reminds you that all the shit we see isn’t everywhere. It might help.” Her mouth quirks, a little. “And as for B. I’ve hit him once. I’ll do it again, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Jason can’t help his grin. “Only if I can watch.”

Steph winks. “I’ll be watching for opportunities,” she says. Her expression gentles again; and she’s looking at him with an expression so fond that it makes mouth dry up, his eyes sting. “Until then— What do you say we take the night off, yeah? Turn the living room into a blanket fort, order pizza, and watch all those movies we’ve been wanting to see.”

“That—” He has to cut himself off; swallow and start again, when his mouth isn’t desert-dry. “That sounds great, babe.”

She kisses him, brief and fleeting. “Of course it does. I have the best ideas. Now, get moving, Jaybabe. You start on the supports, I’ll call the pizza place. The usual?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, rising to his feet.

He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he’s not about to question it. He’ll just have to make sure he never forgets.

[tyrantisterror]

While we’re on the subject of Dungeons & monsters, what are your top ten favorite D&D monsters & why?

I'm going to limit this to monsters that are either original creations of D&D or so divorced from their mythological roots that they might as well be original creations, or else this would just be me listing dragons. This is also in no particular order.

I'm gonna start with the Otyugh, because I think it's a result of D&D creating a very interesting ecosystem to justify its mechanics. You have all these artificial dungeons filled with different man-eating monsters, right? Well, what about the waste products they create? Carrion, yes, but also, you know... poop.

Well, you get Otyughs, a species that, depending on the setting, was either artificially engineered to take care of the waste products of a dungeon, or naturally evolved to clear out the waste of enormous megafauna predators like dragons. Is it mostly just an excuse to introduce yet another weird monster with a unique attack mechanic (say hello to sepsis and other infections, players)? Yeah, but it's a good excuse, it gets the imagination flowing.

I've actually played a lot more Pathfinder than D&D proper, and Pathfinder went out of its way to give Otyughs love by exploring all the aspects of their ecology that were only lightly outlined or implied in D&D, including the fact that they're technically intelligent enough to be capable of speech and reason - and thus, not necessarily a monster you have to deal with using violence alone. It really endeared me to them, to the point where Otyugh characters became something of a trademark of mine when running Pathfinder/D&D campaigns - and to the point where I ended up making up an expy of them for my own fantasy setting.

Bulettes are one of the coolest looking D&D monsters for my money, especially given that their modern designs take two inspiration from two very different animals - sharks and tortoises - and manage to combine them so beautifully to create something at once very cool and yet perfectly plausible as a "real" creature.

I love Rust Monsters for the same reason I love Otyughs - it's a monster that was made to showcase a game mechanic (namely, destroying players' weapons and armor, making sure they know how valuable those things are) and ends up creating a weird but plausible and interesting aspect of the ecology and world-building as a result. Also like Otyughs, they're very cute in a groady monster way.

Not every monster needs to have a big mind-blowing concept for me to be happy, though. Sometimes a creepy guy with a squid for a head who eats brains is enough. Mind Flayers are iconic and often imitated despite/because of being such a simple and easy to grasp concept.

Speaking of iconic monsters, Beholders feel like such an obvious cool concept that is shocking to me that they're more or less an original D&D creation - and it kind of sucks that they are, because a giant monster head with one main eye and several smaller eyes on stalks feels like it should be as ubiquitous in fiction as dragons and unicorns, and yet it can't be without paying Wizards of the Coast a shit-ton of royalties.

I will say that the lore D&D gave Beholders is pretty good, though - namely that each Beholder thinks it is the apex of their kind, and hates all other beholders for their perceived imperfections. Because beauty is in the eye of the beholder, you see. It's great, no notes, but beholders should belong to the people, not copyright holders.

I'm pretty sure Mimics originate from D&D, though I guess they just couldn't keep the idea of "a treasure chest that fucking eats you" from the people, since they appear in a lot of non-licensed stuff. As they should - man-eating treasure chests are another monster concept that should belong to the people.

I was talking about Froghemoths the other day on here but I want to reiterate that I love them despite/because of the fact that there really is no greater concept at play here than "what if there was a big fucking frog freak," and not once in the long history of this game has anyone decided there needed to be more at play than that. A big fucking frog freak is enough for all of us.

I just think this one looks neat.

D&D kobolds are in the category of "so far removed from its mythic roots that it's basically a new monster," and in that case the new monster is "scrabbly little dragon people with extreme anxiety," and I love that. Kobolds are my favorite humanoid species in D&D, and I'm glad 5th edition finally gave them a stat block that's actually playable, as opposed to previous edition's attempts, which made the prospect of being a kobold character the equivalent of having a public humiliation kink.

Finally, and also in the category of "technically named after a mythic monster it no longer resembles in almost any way," we have the Tarrasque, which went from a turtle/lion hybrid dragon in myth to a nigh-indestructible monster that's explicitly compared to natural disasters for its immense size, vast destructive power, and near inability to be harmed thanks to its armored hide and insane healing abilities. Or, in short, D&D lawyer friendly equivalent of Godzilla. How can I not love D&D Godzilla?

[gr1evance]

smiles... I would love to hear about your favourite dynamic(s) or relations between characters in any of your stories. if that makes sense

YES uhhmm. i'll just give a few brief summaries of some different dynamics from different stories:

-nix and ronnie in grievance have maybe one of my favorite.. things? going on that i've ever written. they never really got along (just a difference in personalities, nix is pretty loud and can sometimes be abrasive and ronnie is very quiet and reserved) and were prone to disagreements, which only got worse when ronnie started hanging out with nix's best friend a LOT without any explanation that nix knew of. at this point each of them are pretty vocal about their dislike of each other- nix has a very public drunk outburst at ronnie and ronnie isn't that afraid to be kind of a dick in turn though definitely less so than nix was being. and so when nix starts getting manipulated into thinking murder is a good idea.. im sure you can imagine how that goes. i don't want to spoil everything (its so hard not to bc i love these two so much) but i DO have gay art of them on my art blog already so its not like that part's a secret or anything LOL they're not romantically involved in grievance but they are Later :) do you ever hate a guy so much you get convinced you need to kill him and then like a thousand years later you realize it was all a big misunderstanding and you actually have a lot in common and also you have feelings for each other. maybe you had feelings for each other earlier than that but you'll never know

-similarly in grievance and similarly i can't say much because it's heavy spoilers, but while nix and iridectomy never directly interact im always thinking about the fact that they are subtextually siblings. iridectomy's father (the story's antagonist) becomes nix's (horrible) adoptive (terrible) father way after iridectomy's life is over and nix is. kind of expected to be everything they were while being forced to do terrible things for his father figure? he never knew them but he knew this idea of them that he's meant to live up to but in that regard he's a failure. he's too different and he has too many issues and he's not Easy and he's not a Child. he never knew them but they're the entire reason he even exists and also the entire reason everything goes so wrong for him and Also they were just a kid who never deserved what happened. he never knew them but he's their big brother whether he wants to be or not.

-on a lighter note.. i have to mention my starbtesla. they're my FAVORITE dynamic of all time and i AM biased. teslacoil (@apotheoseity's character if i dont make that clear often enough) is captain starburst's husband and they met when starb got kidnapped by the villain organization that tesla works for??? and then starb got kicked out of being kidnapped for being too gay with the lab assistant. they're in love a sickening amount and i really like the way they are together, starb is this really thoughtful and caring excitable hero and tesla has about 5 thoughts a day and 4 of them are about starb and he talks and acts like a cartoon character from a fever dream. sometime in the future they have two kids named skittles and pudding and they're like. exactly the same as they always have been they're just these two kids' weird gay parents where one of them is a famous superhero and the other one eats metal for fun. i feel like i'm not explaining this well but they're adorable together i promise

-circling back around to nix and ronnie, there's AUs of them in my other setting creature feature where like. i don't even know why i made them the way they are but it's constantly entertaining to me. in that au nix (named pigeon here) was turned into a creature called a mimic which are goo monsters that kill and eat people and underneath his old skin he's That. contrail is the first person he ever killed and he got so mad he came back as a ghost to haunt pigeon. so they're both kind of stuck together and they hate each other but they're? kind of gay? they're kind of really gay and obsessed with each other. pigeon constantly just wants to annoy and insult contrail and contrail literally exists to torture him and somehow they're gay about that. they make any social situation terrible because they're always "arguing" about something (contrail is actually arguing, pigeon is just trying to piss him off) and it's awful they're awful. and so funny to me

i have a lot more than this these are just the ones i find the most interesting at this current moment... this also doesn't include characters that aren't mine other than teslacoil just bc i love him too much. theo if you see this and wanna add character dynamics of ours you enjoy feel free LOL i might come back and add more myself eventually too

[blimbo-buddy]

The cruel reality of wanting kittypet lore to be as extensive as warrior lore.

Thank goodness you exist though! You make better lore for these housecats than the warriors ever did.

One of my kittypet lore and little idea for Kittypet Kingdom is that house cats worship the sun and the sky while in contrast to warriors worshipping the stars and the moon for their ancestors.

The kittypets are innovators. They followed behind man and their inventions and were treated as traitors for adapting and moving on.

That would give more of a reason to kittypet and clan cat xenophobia. Kittypets are underestimated for choosing the easy life, but they have resources. They have the smarts and ingenuity to make the impossibility into reality.

*flipping through pages my own lore*

I made Kittypets discover how to use fire and make torches. How to catch fireflies and create light sources and, more importantly, how to hide their scents and hide away, considering how clan cats are so reliant on their sense of smell, why not mess with them and use it against them?

What do you think? I think I can call myself Kittypet Enjoyer #2 lol

Ah man, thanks dude! I'm glad that my Kittypet stuff stands out a lot!

With a series that is specifically centered around this outside group of cats aka the clans, it's no wonder that the Kittypets (Or any non-clan group) never get much lore. But, that doesn't mean that you can't be a tad bit disappointed over how little everything else is built upon.

I really like the worship that you have in Kittypet Kingdom! I think it's also interesting that the sky is what gives home to the stars, the sun is what gives the moon it's shine, without them, the stars and moon would be nothing. Kittypets worship the sky and sun while the Clans worship the stars and moon. Lots of interesting symbolism within this idea alone!

It also makes a ton of sense for the Kittypets/General Twolegplace cats to be genius innovators, when you're around humans all the time for that long, you start to mimic what they do and you learn knowledge that was previously thought to be exclusive to humans. You also bring up an interesting idea/point that the clans do not like them for this, it really hammers in the fact that the clans are stuck in the past, stuck in their own stubborn and hurtful minds that they see anything new as being treacherous and "against the code/will of starclan". The clan cats see it as a reason to hate them, but we see it as an insight into how unwilling they are towards change.

And that totally makes a lot of sense with how Kittypets learnt how to use fire+craft torches! Again, they're around humans all the time, so how could they not gain some type of knowledge in something that the clans are so deathly afraid of? I love the idea of them catching fireflies for light sources, it's such a fun concept and admittedly, I like the idea of the clans seeing that and thinking "Hm. That's our idea now". The stuff with Twolegplace cats hiding and messing with scents is a really well thought out idea, this also gave me an idea that Twolegplace cats will sometimes mess with how they smell, sometimes they might roll around in a place where a dog may have sat/slept to confused a clan cat, possibly even scare them away so that they aren't bothered when venturing into the forest territories.

I really, really enjoy these ideas a ton! They provide something really fascinating and adds onto the table scraps of info/culture we get of Twolegplace, all of them. I'd say you earned that goddamn title of Kittypet Enjoyer #2!

[yuwuta]

i need u to post more of your opinions bc everything you’ve posted recently has had me nodding my head. like what u said about those tiktoks people make about people’s profiles on dating apps and the surveillance state and how whiteness is the standard in a lot of self insert fanfic/fanart or just fandom in general to the point that people don’t notice how they box brown and black people out of participating. i’ve been thinking a lot about stuff like this recently and it’s kinda consuming me. like i really hate how racism is still so prevalent in fandom. the other day this fanartist i liked (not anime) deactivated bc people asked her to draw nonwhite and not skinny characters and she went on a colorist crash out bc she only wanted to draw her characters with paper white skin which then opened the doors for her followers to be racist. then “her sister” posted her ai generated apology that uses her bad mental health as an excuse while people became even more racist. like it makes me want to tear my hair out

SHJSDKD i’m happy to hear you like my annoyed rambling posts and i feel you, the rage is extremely consuming. not even joking, for both of our sakes, we have to remember to breathe and count the blessings around us bc it really is so easy to be mad at everything all the time always 😭��� sometimes i believe in the benefit of the doubt, as in someone who isn’t black/brown and/or darkskin might be used to the way the world presents content, particularly content surrounding love and entertainment, and might have inadvertently been taught to mimic that isms so deeply engrained in it, but you can always tell by their response to being correct, and a colorist crash out and ai apology is absolutely crazy work omfg

[itsashowaboutnothing]

Some

Sometimes I'm afraid if I don't set alarms I'll die in my sleep Because the particular brand of anxiety that comes for me, mimics the symptoms of heart attacks

Some nights I take a bit more kratom than I need and then take some more to go back to sleep if I happen to see the time before I see the sun It scares me after the fact because how could I sleep when I potentially just hurt my only One?

I know I okay but I never seem to get a break from convincing my brain of what my soul already knows There's no ebbs it just flows and I hesitate to say that I hate being alert to being afraid because at the end of the day it's my brain's special way Of taking care of me It feels like eviction My brain just won't listen It's going too fast How is it so scary to know what to expect My body stays on the second to last number in countdown to auto-eject But I never quite make it off the ship And the crash nor destruction isn't even a blip On the radar

Who's radar?

Why do my neural pathways just defy the roadblocks and detours I set for them? Do they not understand how expensive the ketamine therapy is? I don't understand How even some flowers can thrive in the sand But I cannot take my next turn with this winning hand It's like the next hand couldn't possibly be As good. And so I'm stuck in the loop of convincing myself this one's shitty.

But all alarms blare because my soul knows the truth and the hand's not the problem the problem is me and it won't cost me you. No matter how many times I leave you behind Walk right off your shelf While looking for myself You always stay I wish I could say I don't take you for granted But every doomsday I reach for your hand and it it's... free. It costs me nothing to have you all about me You've been there all along Like that one part of the song That never hurt until that one time that it does Then it sticks in your head Replaying on dead Batteries As I'm battling me The part that always swears I'll put you first From now on But you tell me don't worry and we change the song Back to me And I'm back just as sorry as I'll ever be

MAYDAY! MAYDAY! SOS! The relentless panic beats in my chest From the inside out The monsters all shout What suffering such a piece of shit Will endure filled with shame Suffocating in blame Choking on my own name I can breathe from my mouth it's my brain That's where the stain is. And if I come up for air I'll scream this isn't fair As I sob putting on My prescription life jacket You'll once more pause the song And say I know baby but it's All going to be okay "I promise." The code override to believe you is missing a line Or a page because now I've calmed down I realize That I'm so afraid Of how easy it was for you to shut them down The chaos the monsters the bullies inbound Placidity can never last And from your cocoon of sensation deprivation I find myself pulled to the past The only way out is through But I'd rather stay here in this part of you On pause in the sunshine Basking in peace of mind That your soul is louder than my brain And no matter how ever scary my day I'll scare myself back to this place

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

this singing experience

when I think about my karaoke hobby

in a more journey-like perspective

I see it so differently now

because from a young age I was told

by the people around me that there was something

very repulsive about my singing voice

and I had no reason to distrust them

but something really clicked for me

when the man who took me for karaoke

on our second date began to hate my singing voice

when he didn't want to see he was mistreating me

he wrote and played a song for me that was amazing

though from this perspective the lyrics are very telling

my children were comforted and delighted by my lullabies

and with them I slowly gained confidence with it

at first I thought I'd try out for theatre because

the thought of being on a stage alone for three minutes

initially made me want to run away from even thinking it

and now I go crazy if I can't go once a week

it's really fun when I sing a song that makes people

really applaud loudly and I feel that they heard me

and all the limiting beliefs I had a year ago

about my voice and being seen on that stage

melted away in the environment and community

I am surrounded by in that tavern

because there is no competition

sometimes there is really excited collaboration

and a few ego quirks here and there

it's easy to get particularly attached to a song

but when I'm done singing my friends celebrate me

I always know they're going to tell me something lovely

and when I watch them I'm never looking for

the right notes or a perfect mimic of the energy

I enjoy watching them up there being themselves

authentically embodied in their true spirit

why else do you think sound and soul are so aligned?

I get a moment to truly watch the song of their hearts

I'm never looking to see if they're on the rhythm

when they sway and hold the microphone

and while I understand the need for it in collective theatre

it's so nice to have found a place where everyone

is just practicing something they love

no risk or stake or business to it

just fulfilling a limitless joy of expression

I described it once as like a sort of night church

the karaoke version of the essence of the song piano man

I admire the talent of my co-karaokers so much

that I'd never even think to tell them anything negative

but be willing to give them my kind observations

if they feel like asking me for my perception of their performance

never unsolicited and never with harsh honesty

and it helps me understand that so much

of how I was taught to think was so wrong for me

like the soil I take the light and nutrients from around me

I think from the roots first and then look

up to my stem or leaves or bloom for the rest

I've never felt safer or more seen

and that's because I feel safe enough

to let myself be seen

for me perception is not always a choice

if I don't trust or have been taught not to trust

who I am authentically will fade away around that person

and it's hard to get back even if I try everything

I could have never trusted my voice

without having it be supported in such a kind way

in a community that values joy over rivalry

and I never found that in a church

the way I found it in these karaoke bars

and my god did I spend most my life seeking it

it really doesn't matter what your path looks like

it's what you gain and learn from it

and something I learned from this journey

is that the people who will help you grow

are not the ones that use shame and judgement

or encourage painful or disrespectful discipline to your body

instead they are the people you can sing around

and will never try to tell you you're somehow unworthy

your heart can be open and shining

and not one of them will try to take a bite

just clap their hands and tell you they enjoyed you

I love that my voice and performance has improved

I love that I can get on that stage and be so excited

but I love more that I learned what true friendship is like

how important a supportive environment is

and how significant people who accept you

just as you are and choose to like seeing your talent grow

is to your soul and spirit and wellbeing

and it makes it very difficult to tolerate anything less

from people who are close to me

and I think that's the key

because I can feel the way my heart unlocks

when I walk through those doors

and I often forget to lock it back up

and I no longer see that as a problem

[zoroara]

Here's a question I'll probably have to sleep with one eye opened for. Rip my poor soul, I know the Varia are gonna hate me for this one 🤣 But I thought it was fun, so *shrugs*

If the Varia members could have any other occupation that isn't mafia based,what would it be? (This question includes everyone *waves at the ocs you have*)

Oh boy is that ever a question, well that's pretty easy for the OCs at least So I'll start with them. For the non-ocs take em with a grain of salt because there's no perfect fit past what they're already in there is going to be HELL with them either way.

Vittorio is the absolute easiest, assuming a weapons manufacturer is off the table because while that can exist outside of the mafia, that is very similar to what they are already. But any sort of mechanical work would be a job they'd love.

Silenziatore is a bit not quite what you'd expect. See Silen absolutely loves animals, even tries to play with the box animals when their owners aren't around. He's decently good with people and if it paid decently well he'd be pretty okay with working at a pet shop or even a pet groomers. You're not supposed to try and cuddle the animals at the zoo even as a zoo keeper so it's probably best he doesn't work there however.

Nascosta Okay that's a doozy, there's actually a lot of jobs they could work if they weren't so ready to beat the shit out of people for slights. But they absolutely love attention, both for their strength and looks as well as showing the fuck off, are a fantastic actor and fighter, so the logical conclusion? They'd make an amazing wrestling heel. Not the immediately thought until you remember they need to be as physically strong as the people they mimic and they sure are able to mimic the other varia executives. They are hiding muscles with their mist flames.

Tyr is really funny, especially since I actually ended up with an au recently with it, because it's out of left field. See no job except the one he currently has would every work out for him so he'd be deeply unsatisfied in everything. So he'd actively seek out a job he absolutely hated but was good enough at to keep, because he's the type of person if he can't be happy he may as well be downright miserable. So he'd end up in a library, working in a quiet little place, shelving books dealing with people, so on. It's a jarring sight for sure, but he at least does a good job

Now onto the Canons, again the easiest to place first:

Honestly I think the Levi could thrive in any work environment, he is constantly early, always on top of things, his only issue is he's sometimes a little clumsy and can occasionally get lost without some sort of guiding system, like in the drama cds. Of course I don't think he'd like an office job and probably needs something more physical as with most of Varia honestly. He's probably do a good job in a more government position having to deliver documents and things.

Mammon literally anything that handles money and gets paid a lot, fuck they could probably just be an accountant, or maybe run a fucking insurance firm you KNOW they would get so much out of that. Life insurance? you know it. Good god would they bleed you out. I think that's too much power to give.

Lussuria's pretty straightforward too, I mean in his little interview section he was apparently the youngest body building champion, he could easily go back to those sorts of championships if he wanted, or maybe some sort of modeling career. He has some good options for sure. there's also another potential depending on how much medical knowledge you believe Lussuria to have, he could potentially be a pathologist.

Squalo, ohhh Squalo, see I have, funny answers for these ones and more serious ones. Though with his tolerance which while yes he's constantly being pissed off he's also just. constantly being prodded by his co-workers he probably could make it in anything literally less stressful than the current job he has. But regardless, with his sword skills, either competition wise(he really could be an Olympic level fencer if his dumb ass would like be satisfied with not killing his opponent), or teaching wise are potentials. I did have a really funny au where Squalo lost his memories and ended up working at an aquarium, mostly taking care of the sharks.

Now Xanxus and Bel, oh god these two. Buddy, buddy I don't think they can HAVE jobs outside of the Varia. Do they have some form of skills that can be used in other jobs? absolutely. Can they tolerate/take orders from other people? absolutely the fuck NOT. The best you can do with Xanxus is stick him in SOME sort of leadership role where he won't be bothered and pray to god he doesn't come and kill you anyway. Bel? Dear lird. I don't even think you can do THAT.

He needs to have some level of respect for the people above him and unless you're a violent fuck like Xanxus is that sure isn't happening. He may be a prince but I don't even think he's anywhere fit to be in the position of a leader.(I know Rasiel would agree with me there). Those two are best fit right where they are and honestly it's doing the world a favour by keeping them there.

Edit: Upon further consideration if we consider freelance an option, Bel could likely work as an Ice sculptor with his skills and thanks to being able to be choosy once he gets as a popular option he'd be able to do what commissions he thinks are cool.

[obsidiancreates]

As My Friend Has Stood By Me, So Shall I (Part 18)

Sweet Then Sour

(Warning: This chapter contains a lot of discussion about Weight and Loss of Weight)

Even with a quickened pace after the Orc encounter, it takes a few hours to reach Dale. Tauriel is waiting for them at the entrance to the city, and as soon as they can see her Kili breaks away to rush into her arms! She laughs and easily sweeps her dwarf up off his feet and to her lips. Fili pretends to gag, and Bilbo laughs at it. Kili and Tauriel are very sweet, and he’s happy for them- but he understands why Fili may be a little tired of his lovestruck brother.

“Did you face any dangers on the road?” she asks as she sets Kili back down.

“Only one Orc, easy enough. I shot it straight through the eye.” Kili mimics nocking and firing an arrow.

“Almost the eye.” Fili grins as Kili shoots him a ‘shut your mouth’ look, and Tauriel just smiles. She looks at Bilbo and nods to him.

“It’s been some time since we’ve spoken, Master Baggins.”

“Bilbo, please, I’ve had enough Master Baggins to last a lifetime.” Bilbo adjusts his belt a bit- it’s looser on him than it once was. Tauriel’s smile fades a little as she takes him in. Bilbo notices, and waves his hand as though it can wave away her concerns. “I hardly see you around the mountain.”

“I try to make myself scarce. While the King may accept me…”

“He’ll get the others sorted out soon,” Kili promises, taking her hand. “He sent a raven to Amad about it already, and she sent back saying as soon as she read that you fought for us against Thranduil’s orders she began planning our ceremony.”

Tauriel laughs lightly. “The lack of love for my king is genetic, then.”

“Nah. I don’t hate him- I’d just put salt in his wine the next time we have negotiations.”

“You will not.” Bilbo puts his hands on his hips. “Let’s try to avoid a second war, thank you. Just pour him a poor vintage and give him food that’s been sitting out just slightly too long to be truly fresh- just excusable enough to be poor planning or bad manners, but still a slight. I did it all the time with my less savory relatives.”

“Ooooh, that’s a good one.” 

“And here I’d hoped you would keep your dwarves out of trouble,” Tauriel says as she leads them into the city, eyes gleaming. 

“Then you forgot about my breaking them out of your prison.”

“I suppose I did.” She waves to a couple of children who shout hello to her as she passes by. “For all the woes of the mortal world beyond our borders, I’m glad you did break them out. I’ve seen more of the world now than I did in centuries within our own borders.”

“I know how you feel. I hadn’t even been out of The Shire before this whole adventure.”

“Your lands are to the West, aren’t they?”

“Yes, past Rivendell a good ways.”

“I’ve heard there are trees in the West that my kin of old woke before we settled in the East, along the borders of a river in a quiet land of green and growing.”

“Really? … Suppose that explains the Old forest in Buckland, then. We always thought it was the river flowing through it.”

“Hang on, you said there’s no magic in The Shire. What’s this Old Forest?”

“There isn’t magic. The Old Forest is just… odd. They say the trees move and speak, and- well, like Tauriel said. They’re awake.”

“That is magic!”

“Well, Hobbits didn’t do it! We avoid those trees! Terrible business, they’re all dangerous- sometimes the pathway through just changes places.”

“Many of the trees that were woken before the Third Age have grown bitter, and cruel,” Tauriel says sadly. “I cannot blame them- they were felled for the ambitions of Men, and then again when the great evil waged war on the world. The loss hardened them against love, and hope.”

“Why didn’t we learn any of this before we went to The Shire?” Fili pokes Bilbo. “We could’ve ended up there by accident!”

“You couldn’t, there’s borders. Very clear ones.” Bilbo looks up into the sky, squinting. “Is it midday already?”

“Huh, it is.” Kili looks at Tauriel. “Once we get to the market, actually, I need to have a word with you. Just a quick one.”

“Of course- oh, my lord Bard.” Tauriel pauses to give a slight bow as the King of Dale passes by. Bard pauses, arms full of firewood, to take in the party.

“Is this a royal procession, or a friendly visit?” he asks after a moment.

“We’re just here to see the market,” Fili says, speaking not as a prince to a king, but a traveller to a local resident. “We heard you’d gotten in some nice fabrics and seeds and stuff, and thought we’d treat Master Baggins here to a day out.”

Bilbo regards Bard with a polite, somewhat stilted small bow, and a pull like a wince to his expression as he avoids eye contact. His last words to Bard months ago had been… dismissively rude at best, after all, and not said in the most clear of headspaces.

Bard just nods politely at him. “It’s good to see you all out of the mountain, then. I was beginning to worry I’d offended your Master Baggins, and your King by extension.”

“No, I uh- I’d like to apologize, actually.” Bilbo clears his throat, rocking on his heels a bit and still not making eye contact. “I was more than-than a bit rude, when we last spoke, and I’m… sorry.”

Bard shrugs. “No harm done, then. Our kingdoms remain friendly.” He looks Bilbo up and down a bit. “We just got an old bakery cleared out, and the oven was well-preserved. There’s baked goods to be bought in the market now.”

“Oh, ah, thank you.” Bilbo adjusts his belt again. “I don’t suppose there’s clothing, either?”

“Not for sale at the moment- only spare fabrics. All of our proper clothing is still being distributed among the people.”

“Right. Um, thank you.”

Bard gives the group one last nod, one last lingering look at Bilbo- and then he leaves.

Bilbo huffs and pulls his tunic a little above his belt, trying to make it a bit baggier, a bit less showing of his lack of weight. “If I get one more comment about eating more, I’m going to start stuffing pillows down my shirt. That goes for you boys, too, and everyone else in our Company.”

Fili and Kili hold up their hands. 

“You’re the one who said Hobbits need seven meals a day to us,” Fili defends. 

“Seven a day?” Tauriel says as they begin walking again. “That must be a joke.”

“Not in the slightest. But seven meals a day are a bit hard to come by here and now, as we all know. I’m managing just fine on three, and I’ll keep managing until we won’t all starve just to satisfy my want for Elevenses.”

“The Shire must be a very plentiful land, to support peoples of such appetites.”

“Plentiful, peaceful, and perfect.” Bilbo straightens up a bit with pride. “Honestly, I think once Erebor is all settled we should all go back- yes, Kili, I mean Tauriel as well. Hobbits have the best parties of any of the people of Middle-Earth, I guarantee you.”

“His pantry was bursting,” Kili says to Tauriel, and for the rest of the walk to the marketplace he describes all the foods he and his kin had downright plundered from Bilbo’s pantries and larders. Fili begins humming the song they’d sung as well, and Bilbo, despite the panic it had brought him then, begins humming along with Fili.

When they reach the marketplace, it’s as close to ‘bustling’ as a slowly-rebuilding city like Dale can be. Hardly close to the stories of old Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin had shared before, but far more cheerful and prosperous than Laketown had been- prosperous in terms of fair trade, at least. With few traders from outside of Dale itself and a small group of tailors and whittlers from the mountain involving themselves in it’s burgeoning economy, most prices are based solely on the amount of money that each family has so far been given by Thorin- which is quite a bit, but still slow-coming, after a deliberation by Thorin, Gandalf, and Bard in which they agreed it best to send the shares out in parts to try and avoid any such as Alfrid or The Master from rising to be claimed by gold sickness. 

And, indeed, there’s the smell of fresh-baked goods in the air. Bilbo’s stomach suddenly growls, quite loudly, enough for his three companions to turn and stare in shock and amusement while he turns red from embarrassment. 

“We knew you weren’t eating enough!” Kili finally bursts out, getting Bilbo and shoving him towards the source of the smell. 

“It’s just because I skipped breakfast to make it to this outing!” Bilbo protests.

“Uncle had breakfast delivered to your room hours before you came out! I knew you were skipping meals!”

“What?” Bilbo hadn’t even noticed any food- which, actually, is alarming. He’d been so busy searching for a hiding place for his Luck…

Another thought takes that one’s place. “Hang on, who has access to my room while I sleep?!”

“Just us.”

“Us- everyone in the hall?”

“Course. Why wouldn’t we? What if someone got past the guards and attacked one of us?”

“Fili. Don’t you think it’d be harder for that to happen if we have good locks that no-one but the person in the room can unlock?”

“... But then we can’t either.”

“This can’t be a dwarf thing. This is just you thirteen, surely. I want locks, thank you.”

“But-”

“Locks, Fili! With a key just I have!”

“... Alright, I’ll tell Uncle. But that means no more meal deliveries.” 

“I’ve already been demanded to have group meals whenever possible as it is, I can live with it.”

They get inside the bakery, and Bilbo is plunked unceremoniously into an ancient salvaged chair by Fili while Kili gently leads Tauriel to sit and kisses her hand before joining his brother at the counter.

Tauriel watches Bilbo try to smooth out his tunic while grumbling to himself. “You are much thinner than I remember you being in the tents.

“Not you too,” Bilbo grumbles. 

“Your dwarves have lost far less weight than you.”

“... Too tell you the truth,” he casts a glance at the princes to make sure they’re out of earshot, and then says lowly, “My appetite's been a little thin these last few months. I think it’s all the being inside The Mountain.”

Her worry smoothes out into understanding. “Your people are more like mine?”

“Not quite living in trees, but not living so far underground either, and certainly not spending nearly all our time indoors. Back home I have- had, a little garden of my own, and plenty of good windows, and a nice bench by my gate where I liked to sit with my pipe and occasionally a book.”

Tauriel nods. “I worry about Kili asking me to come live with him in the mountain for the very reason you feel ill at ease.”

“He’d probably move into Mir- Greenwood, with you, if you asked.”

“My Lord Thranduil has… not made it clear if I’m welcomed in his kingdom anymore. I last spoke to him before I carried Kili to the tents, and though he was no longer angry with me…”

“He wasn’t clear.” Bilbo nods. “I’m sorry, Tauriel.”

It’s then that Fili and Kili come back with one of everything available- which isn’t much by Shire standards, but quite a bit by the standards of Bilbo’s last two years of meals now. Seed cakes, scones, breads, and a nice bit of butter- apparently in the last months someone had discovered the descendants of domesticated cows of old, and their mild tempers still carried in their blood after all this time, and so a few in the city had managed to set up a small dairy farm.

And, after months of an appetite so weak he hardly picked at anything other than that single feast of Hobbit-like cuisine Thorin had arranged one day, Bilbo finds himself actually digging in. He eats happily, hardly even contributing to conversation, and Fili and Kili seem more than happy to let it remain that way.

They return to the counter twice more before Bilbo finally feels satisfied, as though he’d been starving to death this whole time and somehow never noticed. His belt no longer bothering him by sliding down so much, he thanks and praises the baker as they all take their leave to the markets outside. The sun, shining down on them with loving warmth, feels all the brighter now that Bilbo feels well.

Yes, that’s it. He’s felt unwell these past months. How had he not noticed?

Fili and Kili whisper something to each other in Khuzdul, and then Kili looks up to Tauriel and whispers something in stilted, broken Silvan. The sound shocks Bilbo so badly that he trips and needs to be caught by Fili lest he break his nose.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just never thought I’d hear an Elvish language come out of any of our parties’ mouths.”

“It sounded alright?” Kili asks nervously. “Did it uh, make sense?”

“I couldn’t understand it,” Bilbo says, apologetic even as something in Kili’s face seems to lift at the revelation. “I’d like to, but I only learned a bit of Sindarin during our stay in Rivendell.”

“I’d be happy to teach you Silvan, after I’ve helped Kili refine his. I don’t know that I could teach two at once.”

“Focus on you two, I’ll just send for some books when things are settled and learn it that way.”

Tauriel nods, and smiles down at Kili. “You spoke well, my love. I understood it completely.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three hang slightly back from Bilbo as the hobbit flits about the stalls, examining the fabrics and seeds and any other goods available, meager as they are. He seems more at home here than any of them have seen him- no small feat for Tauriel, but quite a large one for Fili and Kili. Even in his own Smial all those months ago he hadn’t seemed completely natural or at home- probably because his home was quite literally invaded. 

Now he barters and haggles and schmoozes and makes quick acquaintances, and even seems to pick up on what is, judging by his expressions, some delightful gossip.

And all the while, his hands barely twitch to his midsection- only once or twice, and only for a brief moment.

But still Kili points it out when it happens. “That,” he whispers. “In the mountains it’s worse. He can’t keep his hands still, and without pockets he usually has whatever trinket it is gripped in his fist.”

Tauriel nods in understanding. “I’ll speak with one of the elves I know to still hold respect for me. If I’m allowed to pass through our lands again, I’ll find Mithrandir and tell him of this.”

“Do you have any ideas about it?” Fili tries, keeping his voice low and pulling his brother and who he’s pretty sure is his future sister-in-law into a more hidden alcove of the ruins. “Right now our best guess is the gold sickness, but it’s… different.”

Kili nods. “Uncle doesn’t seem completely convinced either, but we don’t know what else it could be.”

Tauriel shakes her head. “It’s no magic of the elves, and I know little of the magic of other races beyond what I encountered as captain of the guard.”

“There you three are,” Bilbo huffs, quickly walking over with arms full of fabric scraps and seed pouches and an ancient but surprisingly well-preserved book on Gardening In Mountainous Areas. “You’ll never believe what I’ve heard from the vendor over there. There’s been a party of men from some other settlement trying to sell webs gathered from Mirkwood. Apparently the spiders are trying to flee the forests and setting up nests at the edges, only to get killed by just about everything under the sun.”

“Serves those things right,” Fili says with a grin.

“Ha, couldn’t agree more! Dreadful things.”

Fili perks up, and then looks between Kili and Tauriel with a look that says ‘This is going to be important’. “Hey, remember when I bumped into you at the market weeks ago? You said you heard them talk.”

Bilbo’s demeanor shifts. His satisfied smile melts away, his bright eyes taking on a wary look. “I-I might remember.”

“What’d they say again?”

“I fail to see how that’s relevant.”

“Aw, come on.”

Bilbo shifts his feet, hugging his goods closer to himself in a guarded fashion, like he’s trying to create a barrier between himself and the other three. “Something about sticking you all and eating you, if you just have to know,” he snips. “And that Sting stings and then screaming.”

“Well, that’s not surprising,” Kili says, though his own expression had soured with worry at the way Bilbo just… changed, when it was mentioned.

Bilbo nods, and then looks away. “I’m going to ah, go wait by the bridge entrance for you all to finish up.”

And just like that he’s gone, disappeared into the crowd without a trace.

Kili and Fili both look up at Tauriel, who’s eyes trail after where Bilbo had headed.

“The spiders do not speak,” she says finally. “... It could have been the dark poison in the air along the path.”

“Maybe,” Fili agrees, “But when he mentioned it before he did that thing, reaching into his pocket and getting all strange. I think it’s connected.”

“Gold sickness wouldn’t give him ears for the language of Fell creatures.”

“No, but, like we said, whatever he has might be magic. Or it could be both at the same time.”

“Could even be three things,” Kili says. “Sickness, the trinket, and warrior weariness. What if whatever he’s got on him is making the sickness and weariness worse?”

Tauriel lets out a long breath. “Something wicked ails him,” she says softly. “I cannot see what, but I feel it.” She looks down at the princes. “I’ll go to Greenwood before nightfall tonight.” 

“Thank you, Tauriel.” Fili gives her a respectful bow.

Kili hops on top of a nearby bit of broken building and leans up to kiss her. “The sooner we have Gandalf here, the better. I’d hate to lose an Uncle before he’s even our Uncle.”

[destinygoldenstar]

Rain Nicholas ; The Ultimate Bad Cop (Danganronpa The Privileged Traitor)

Rain Nicholas (As it sounds) ; 18 Years Old ; From Chicago, Illinois ; The Ultimate Bad Cop

Rain Nicholas is a student of Hopes Peak College Class B-3 in Danganronpa The Privileged Traitor.

Rain is the younger sibling to a privileged influential family. Her father is the country treasury. Her mother being a military captain. And she has an older sister named Rose. (Who is also a student and I already made a post about that character)

Whereas Rose was born weaker than the average infant and people wondering of what she would accomplish, Rain was born as a savior to the Nicholas bloodline, being born healthy and strong from the start with a huge emphasis on the latter.

So it was easy for Rain to get the approval of her parents and the people around her by just being herself. That is, except for her sister, who never said to her face that she loved her.

But Rain heavily idolizes her big sister and wants her approval badly. So she takes after the same passions that Rose has in training to become a police officer. But whereas Rose had the social justice warrior rule over everything goal, Rain just wanted an excuse for roughhouse play. Her favorite type of play.

Rain quickly became a heavily established member of the force despite just being in training, and earned high respect from her peers, especially over Rose. Despite being younger, she reached the same rank as Rose.

And despite that, she still has no approval from her own sister.

No matter what she does, Rose makes it clear it’s wrong. No matter how hard she tries to be good at what she does, Rose makes it clear she is inferior in every way.

And even the good stuff in her own life seems to not last. It started with small stuff like getting grounded or being kicked out of the baseball team, but then bad stuff seems to happen whenever Rain gets involved in it. The people who take Rain’s side always seem to meet bad fates, and it’s a constant pattern that’s impossible to ignore.

Be near Rain and something bad will happen to you. At least that’s what Rose calls it, who makes it clear that all of it is Rain’s fault. As a ‘deep down you know you deserve to suffer’ way.

Maybe because she’s a bad luck charm, is the reason why her sister doesn’t approve of her.

So Rain basically accepted her role as ‘the bad cop’. The overly aggressive one. The one who shoots first and asks questions later. The crazy one. If she’s the overly strong one might as well use that.

She’s a loud and erratic person. And has very little awareness half the time about the people around her. She will scream at your face even when you haven’t done anything. She will be rough and aggressive, verbally and sometimes physically. She loves breaking stuff and will not apologize about breaking stuff. And she loves running around frantically with whatever sports item for bashing she can get her hands on, preferably a bat. Just… maybe don’t be near her if she finds one.

That’s just the bad cop role. It’s who she needs to be. Do the role well, mimic what Rose usually does towards her, then maybe Rose will tell her she loves her, like sisters are supposed to feel towards sisters.

Being the younger sister of an older sister that is as controlling and domestic as Rose, Rain doesn’t have a very strong sense of individuality to call herself, at least not one that she doesn’t see as some flaw she needs to strip away from herself just to be accepted. Surely there’s have to be a reason she became a cop other than her sister, if they’re supposed to protect people and all of that.

Maybe she can find out what it is at Hopes Peak. At least that’s the kind idea her new boyfriend gave her, who she could run away with if she wasn’t dragged to Hopes Peak.

She also loves baseball. It’s her comfort hobby. Someone out there is gonna hate that.

But no, instead she and Rose are the officers watching the other students when the whole school scam reveals itself as a killing game. Both the cops are ready to take action and find out who is running the game so justice can be served and the innocent students can be protected. After all, it’s Roses job to protect the others, it’s Rains job to smash stuff.

If she’s ever going to find out who she needs to be, then maybe finally winning Rose over would help her do her job.

Victim? Killer? Survivor?

See my other profiles; The Protagonist ; The Mastermind; The Ultimate Musical Sensation ; The Ultimate Good Cop ; The Ultimate Scientist ; The Ultimate Archer ; The Ultimate Environmentalist ; The Ultimate Arsonist ; The Ultimate Vigilante ; The Ultimate Violinist ; The Ultimate Renaissance Student ; The Ultimate Dance Streamer ; The Ultimate Video Game Modifier ; The Ultimate Poetry Writer

[atangledfate]

Sonic's eyes shifted upward as if he was thinking alot about Shadow, and his relationship with him. They were friends? He guessed that was a loose term as often as they came to blows. Shadow was probably the only person on the planet who could understand Surge and what she was going through. They had alot in common didn't they? Well he doubted Shadow would give a shit though he to found it odd Starline gave her no data on Shadow.

" Mmm, Boy Shadow is... alot--- heh. We clashed alot in the past and probably clash again in the future. I---"

He was cute off as Lanolin got closer and simply scratched his cheek in thought.

" Well ... maybe i'll introduce you to him sometime when things are less crazy... i Think you'd prefer his company to mine..."

There was alot Sonic wanted to say but really they didn't have the time did they? Not just about Shadow either, about the whole situation and GUN. Really he only had one thing to say before Lanolin and Surge departed as he glanced over his shoulder toward them.

" Hey--- No matter what they say... don't trust GUN. No matter how good there promises are... just knows its never what it seems. "

Lanolin seemed to eye Sonic as if he knew something that she and Surge didn't. Though he just kept gazing up at that airship. The Sheep placed her hand on the back of her neck unsure how to respond or approach the situation. She still thought of Surge as a friend and was now being asked to hand her over--- it was a shit situation and Sonic's comment didn't comfort her at all.

" It's mad to think they'd do all of this just for you and kit... but then you did make a mess of the city with minimal effort. Maybe its just to make a point? I can't say why they did it... but then they wanted Belle to... so maybe it was more then that? All i know is... the deal is you hand yourself over and they lift the blockade... i hate it still... but we can't fight the government... "

She sighed and crossed her arms giving surge a knowing nod at her request.

" Yea... don't worry, we'll start moving him to a safe location soon as we can. Though we need to wait for there liaison to arrive to sign all the paper work. just thought you'd wanna this time to say your goodbyes... i don't know where they'll take you. Though i suspect to that prison where they sent Mimic ... or something similar. "

She touched her chin as Surge admitted Kit was stalking them from a distance and watching them. It didn't shock her at all considering how close they were. It must be eating him alive to know that he might lose her. They were almost like siblings in a way and separating them? it couldn't be easy on either of them.

" Hmmm, then things are winding down? Well Surge say the word and i'll take Kit with me to that place you mentioned. I can slip past any blockades without issue. Better to move him before they have eyes on him... that way we can hide him away while they are distracted with you... "

==============================================

Jewel wasn't so sure she could agree with blaze on this one. Surge already decimated a city, caused who knew how much damage. Despite all the good work that she'd done here. It would be so easy for GUN to spin her as an enemy of the state. Propaganda could go in two directions and GUN controlled the media more then she liked to admit. She knew the princess wouldn't do harm unless provoked she had less worry about that. Her main concern is what they'd do with Surge once they had her contained.

" I hope that isn't there intent... surely it would have been easier to steal away starines lab... most of his notes are in miles possession though so maybe it was't easy for them to get? Either way they seem more interested in her then anything else... i ever imagined GUN would sink this low... "

For all the vile things that GUN had done, most of it was uknown. Despite the awful things that Amy had to say about them. The details were never really spoken on by her. All Jewel knew was Amy said never to trust them, and that they were bad news. Maybe its why they took her out? did they fear she'd see through there plot in same way? or maybe she'd have taken a stronger stance against handing surge over?

" I don't know about this new general, or this president... but i do know GUN and i know enough to believe that if they wanted to replicate Starlines work--- they'd have the time and resources to do it. Worse if you think Eggman is lacking ethics... then i fully believe GUN is just as bad if not worse. Eggman has his rules... might be twisted but he follows them to a tee... its why he never kills amy despite capturing her many times... or why, he never killed Sonic despite having him for 6 months. His rules are mad but he has them... GUN not so much..."

Miles stated while occasionally chewing on his stylus in a nervous habit.

" Yea I know Belle but i need to scour that data and make sure there isn't something we are overlooking they could be after. They seem to interested in us to just be after Surge... if that was all they wanted there were better ways to do it... this feels like a big show to make a point...either way i wanna cover our bases... no point assuming anything without checking it over first. "

" as for the other bases... i'm sure they are fine... GUN feels focused on us and less on everyone else. But we can't help them until we help ourselves first "

"Haven't met Shadow, and I don't have any data information on him either in my head. I know he's tough and work's for G.U.N, that's it." Made Surge wonder why Starline never bothered to give her information on Shadow since he was supposedly a match for Sonic. That also includes Blaze. Eh, doesn't matter to her at the end of the day. "I don't intend to sugarcoat shit. No point if you ask me."

"Yeah, I know you've tangled with G.U.N before. I still have everything about you in my head, that ain't going to change soon." Surge wondered if that would start to fade or at least lessen with the other person in her head, or was she in their head? Ugh, yeah, she's keeping this to herself for as long as she can until she figures this shit out. "I'll have G.U.N dealt with before you even get there if they step out of line, watch me!" The tenrec's attention also shifted to the sound of someone running over.

"Geez, talk about pulling out all the stops just to lock me up in jail or whatever they want to try and do to me. Couldn't even try to hide it?" Surge thought they'd at least make it seem like it was just for messing up that one town when she was high on Wisp energy. "I hope they know I don't intend to go anywhere until I see with my own eyes Drippy is walking away." That wasn't going to change, and if they tried before a swift speed of light punch would solve that shit real quick.

"Drippy is sorta stalking me right now. Been hiding about a block down. Before you ask how I know it's some sort of link shit Starline put into us. We can sorta sense where the other is, and it gets stronger the closer we are to someone. Must've slipped out in the air vent or some shit."

===========================================================

"Not to sound like Sonic, though in this case I must say I make no promises." Blaze rarely found herself willing to do harm upon someone, though this was a rare case of being so angered. "If they intend to recreate Starline's work I doubt Surge will make it easy for them. Given her speed, power, and abilities it would be easy to prevent them from doing any in-depth scans on her body and power. Besides, once this gets out I'm sure a lot of eyes will be on Surge and G.U.N which should force them to play it safe." The media can be troublesome.

"I can, though there was nothing on the mainframe that could of be importance to them. Maybe funds, though that's safe now. I suppose a list of Restoration members, though most of that is public information by now, and it's not like we hide ourselves in begin with since we're a public organization. The main damage they've done is split commutation between all our bases. Even with you temporary getting us back into contact it's limited to a small range." Belle was honestly worried everyone was in complete chaos right now.