#along with a brief story rundown

[deerteatime]

not beating the working on artfight refs allegations

[procrastinova]

Eyes 👀

[unlosts]

Late Spring

Summary: In an Italian restaurant somewhere in Nebraska you and the BAU decompress after non stop cases. And like a magic trick SSA Aaron Hotchner goes back to being Aaron

Word count: 1.8k

After a serial arsonist in North Hempstead, New York; a serial killer in Chandler, Arizona and an amber alert taking you to Lincoln, Nebraska back to back the entire team was running on fumes. Actually fumes were what you were running after the second week, right now it was just coffee and the thought of eventually getting to sleep in your own beds.

It’s not easy being in close quarters with the same group of people for so long, especially when you’ve had to share bedrooms for most of it. First a week with JJ, then three days with Emily and even one night with Spence after both Derek and Rossi refused to bunk with him citing intense sleep talking - which was, in fact, confirmed by you.

Eventually all the rooms started to blur together in your head, from the ugly pink explosion that was the bed and breakfast (which by the way had none), to the motel 6 in Nebraska that seemed straight out of a horror story, complete with an extremely creepy caretaker. Or future unsub Mike as Emily dubbed him.

Tonight was the last night before you could get home and you guys were celebrating big time, which at your current combined energy level meant an actual sit down meal where you didn’t have to look at a dismembered torso while trying to keep down some soggy fries and an under cooked burger.

You all ate in relative silence, brains too fried to talk about anything anymore, the rundown “italian” restaurant - yes Italian in air quotes just like Rossi insisted on doing every time he mentioned the place. The buzzing of the fluorescent light and the scraping of cutlery against plates being the only backdrop to your collective exhaustion.

The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that, finally, after close to three weeks Hotch could ditch the BAU Unit Chief SSA Hotchner and for once just be Aaron. And oh how you missed Aaron.

Despite having spent the better part of each day right next to him it felt like the chasm between you was larger than ever. It was what you had both agreed to; at work pretend like he’s just your unit chief and you’re just the media liaison. No room sharing, no public displays of affection.

Sometimes the affection bleed through the contours of professionalism he insisted on keeping well defined. Something as simple as him pressing his big palm in the middle of your back right between your shoulder blades as you spoke to him; heads a smidge closer together than strictly necessary.

Right now, though, he was just Aaron. Your Aaron. Sitting right next to you, chairs pushed together. Shirt sleeves rolled over his forearms, tie discarded in the hotel room along with his jacket and the last vestiges of whatever sense of professionalism he was still clinging to. His arm around the back of your chair as you leaned into it, head tilted back looking at him as he drank a beer.

He looks back at you and gives you a brief smile, the fondness in his eyes lingering, leg nudging yours underneath the table.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” He says. “Me? Are you kidding?” You yawned “Send us off to the next case I’m ready” Although it wasn’t the cold the sleepiness was making the air conditioned room feel ten times colder so you shivered and took the liberty to lean even closer to him. His hand went to rub your arm trying to warm you back up.

“Do not” Derek chimed in “even joke about that, pretty boy said the same thing after Lincoln and look at us now”

“Yeah, look at us now, in Lincoln” Said Emily with a straight face before drowning the remainder of her beer and snatching JJs before she could realize what had happened.

“I’m too tired for this, you know what I meant.”

“mhhh, sooryy” You replied, not looking very sorry as you closed your eyes and rested your head on the crook of Aarons neck. Breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and him, more present than ever after day three in the Nebraska summer. His hand is still trailing a path up and down your side, wrinkling your already very wrinkled green shirt and lulling you to sleep.

You felt Aarons lips nudge your temple talking to your in low gentle tones, his breath tickling the baby hairs in your forehead “Do no fall asleep on me or I’ll have to carry you back to the hotel”

“And you’re afraid that if people saw I would lose all of my hard earned Lincoln Nebraska street cred?”

He huffed a laugh before planting a whisper of a kiss on your temple “No, I’m afraid I’m going to throw my back and then you’ll be stuck taking care of me for two weeks”

“If it gets you to rest for two entire weeks I might just consider it”

“Jack would probably help”

“It’s good that you know us so well, and besides I saw you yesterday you still got it” You smiled against his neck remembering the brief but very interesting fight against the unsub before he could be apprehended. “Remind me to ask Penny if she has a copy of the surveillance tape, I’m planning on making the showing it at your birthday dinner next year”

“Look forward to it”

Suddenly you felt a small object hit your chest, looking down to see a crumpled napkin on your lap.

“Can you please get a room? This is the first decent meal I’ve had in weeks and I would hate to throw it back up” Said Emily with a mocking smile, her pearly white teeth contrasting with her faded, barely there plum lipstick.

“I’ve been trying to find a room for days now but none of you know how to cooperate” You reply with a huff.

“Saying please repeatedly until I tell you to shut up is not a good persuasion strategy” Said JJ frowning after getting her beer back from Emily and realizing it was almost empty.

“I don’t see why not, it’s never failed before” You said with a smug smile.

“Besides if we suffer, you suffer” Derek interjects.

“Aww just like a real family”

After a couple of minutes Spencer piped up next to Derek “I would have traded rooms with you”

“Don’t encourage her” Said JJ in her patented and perfected disgruntled mom voice

“I’m going to keep this in mind next time you ask us to babysit Henry so you can have alone time, Jareau”

“Okay, okay” Emily interrupted “Let’s all change subjects, the last thing I want is to talk more about Hotch’s sex life; no offense but in order for this to work I have to think of you like a Ken Doll”

You let out a startled laugh, properly awake now “oh I can assure you my friend-”

“Okay, that’s enough” Said Hotch trying to invoke his authoritative former prosecutor, current FBI unit chief voice. Which was, of course, completely useless when he was blushing so hard.

You just laughed once more, leaning over to briefly kiss his cheek in apology as your friends heckled you both.

What was meant to be a quick dinner before hitting the hay, although in this case the hay was actually a very thin and lumpy hotel mattress, turned into a couple more beers. And yes there were times this week when going to sleep and waking up to Emily's snoring face made you want to quit and move to the seaside but there was truly no other group of people that could make an “Italian” dinner this fun.

Afterwards you all headed you, the brief rise in energy quickly waning at the prospect of more than five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Aaron held you back towards the rear of the group, his arm around you possibly the only thing keeping you upright. The dusk settling over the skyline painted the city pink and gold, you looked back at him standing next to each other on the sidewalk. His eyes a syrupy sweet caramel brown in the golden hour.

“Apparently there’s an ice cream place a couple of blocks from here, it’s supposed to be very good actually” He said looking down for a minute. It took you back to your first date, him asking to take you to a jazz bar which was more so Dave's plan than his, only to end up at a taco truck talking until three am. It amazed you then just as it did now how he could go from stern FBI agent, commanding a room without raising his voice to, well, Aaron.

You smiled up at him, the others long gone leaving you two enveloped in the last rays of sunlight.

“I’d love to, you might actually have to carry me back though, I don’t think this second wind is gonna carry me more than an hour”

“That’s alright, I heard that if I throw my back I get a couple of weeks”

“Whoever told you that was so smart”

“And beautiful”

“Can’t forget that part”

“Well I might not be able to swing two whole weeks but I did arrange to have three days off for everyone” Aaron said, hands in his pocket walking by leisurely next to you as passersby carved a path around you both, a hurried businessman bumping into your back made Hotch pull you closer still, once more enveloping your back.

“Are you serious?” At his assenting nod you couldn't help but smile “and you kept that all to yourself?”

“Mhm”

“Anything else up your sleeve Hotchner?”

“Aaron”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard the name Hotch so often these last couple of weeks I almost forgot what my actual name sounded like” He said with a small smile, but you also knew by the way he melted when you said it that he was particularly fond of how it sounded coming out of your mouth.

“Okay, anything else up your sleeve, Aaron?” You asked fondly, unable to resist any longer and stealing a quick kiss before resuming your walk.

“No, nothing else”

“Okay”

“Oh I did convince Dave to share a room with Derek tonight which would indicate that I’m on my own tonight”

“No way, did I miss an anniversary or something?” You asked looking up at him

“No, I just missed you lately”

“Me too but no one else would budge on the room thing, how did you do it?”

“It only cost me forty bucks and promising to take over both Morgans and Rossi's reports for the last case”

“Ah bribery, should have done that sooner”

“You can’t blame yourself honey, I was a prosecutor after all”

You laughed once more, giddiness dispersing your exhaustion, making you feel like you could stay up until next morning, without trouble.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, the ice cream shop just right around the corner, you drew him towards you, leaning up to kiss him slowly and unhurried. Savoring the feeling of coming home after three weeks and not being able to wait a moment more.

[sweetercalypso]

Knife’s Edge || Abby Anderson

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: when reader gets lost inside a haunted house, ghostface!Abby takes her to the backroom

Notes: part one in my week of horror series! minors dni; brief dubcon, knife play, throat holding, fingering, dom!Abby wearing a strap under her costume, sex against a wall, afab reader

Scary stories and sleazy horror films had never been something you enjoyed, so you’re not sure why you’d agreed to tag along when your friends invited you to a haunted house hosted in a bleak, abandoned building sitting at the edge of town.

As soon as you walked through the doors, you knew you’d made a mistake. Gory backdrops, clown-faced actors, fake bodies hanging out of coffins – you found a reason to shield your face lurking around every corner. Your friends had shrieked with laughter and pulled you along with them, but you couldn’t keep up with their excited pace, dragging your feet and lagging far behind the group.

Maybe if you hadn’t spent so much time with your hands covering your eyes, you would’ve known you were headed down the wrong hallway, straying further away from your friends with each blind step. When you look up to find yourself stranded in the empty darkness, you chastise yourself for coming to a haunted house in the first place.

Tonight would’ve been better if you’d just stayed home.

When you realize that the noise and the commotion of the tour have all but faded into the distance, your heart leaps into your throat. There’s something about the silence that doesn’t seem right.

A rising panic overwhelms your senses as you look around for anything that might tell you where you are. Your friends are all gone, and so are the actors and the gruesome scenes that had been guiding you through the halls. Is it worse to be scared or to be hanging in suspense?

The sudden shuffle of footsteps floods your lungs with relief. You speed up to follow after the sound, only briefly stopping to consider how humiliating it is to be this frightened by a rundown building full of cheap decor.

“Excuse me! Hey-”

You grab the person’s shoulder with a trembling hand, no longer concerned with keeping your dignity intact. They can laugh at you all they want as long as they can lead you to the exit.

When the stranger turns around, you let out a small noise of surprise. She’s tall and brawny under her costume, and the tips of her boots peak out from the bottom of the black sheet of fabric she’s cloaked in.

The mask covering her face is shaped into a ghoulish, twisted scream, just like the one from those cheesy slasher movies you’d never managed to sit through. Even the prop knife she wields at her side is unnervingly sinister.

You pull your hand back and turn your attention to the mesh covering her eyes, hoping for a glimpse of the person underneath.

“Do you work here?”

She cocks her head to the side, silent.

“Look,” you sputter. “I just got separated from my friends, can you help me or not?”

A group of muffled voices erupt from somewhere in the house, a mess of laughter and gasps and thrilled shrieks of artificial terror. You feel her eyes raking over you before she bobs her head and motions for you to follow.

“Come with me.”

The walk through the hallway is quiet beyond the eerie music playing on a loop and the sound of her steps over the creaking floorboards. Cardboard cutouts and tarped sheets of plastic block out the light from the windows and you’d struggle to follow her trail if it weren’t for the occasional flash of her white mask looking at you over her shoulder.

She leads you through a maze of intersecting hallways before finally stopping in front of a door marked with gaudy caution tape and a formal ‘DO NOT ENTER’ sign tacked in the middle. She guides you inside with a hand flattened against your lower back and a warmth licks up your spine from her easy touch.

She follows in behind you and shuts the door, and you’re suddenly aware that she’d taken you beyond the part of the house marked off for guests.

Overloaded boxes and bins of leftover decorations are scattered around the room, a collection of undead odds and ends stuffed into every corner. It’s too crowded and too uncanny for your liking.

You turn to look at the quiet stranger with wide eyes, heart hammering in your chest.

“Why are we here?”

She’s silent for a moment before she grabs you by the waist and wraps her arms around you, pressing her face into the crook of your neck.

“Are you scared?”

You shudder as her cold plastic mask connects with your skin. Standing this close, you can hear her heavy breath contorted by her disguise, feel the rise and fall of her chest pressed against your back.

The kitchen knife gleams against your hip where her hand gropes for purchase. In the darkened hallway, it’d seemed like a cheap, flimsy prop to match her crude costume, but in here, there’s just enough light to catch the metallic luster of the blade’s sharp edge.

She seems to follow the trail of your downcast gaze because she runs the flat side of her knife up the length of your torso with an amused hum.

“Don’t worry,” she taunts in an overly cloying voice. “You won’t feel a thing.”

Her grip is loose enough that you could break free if you wanted, but you’re too flustered by the heat pooling in your belly to try. You wriggle in her grasp and unintentionally move your hips into hers, gasping when the tip of the blade digs into your side.

“Ah- careful with that thing.”

She laughs dryly and drags the steel up to rest in the valley of your breasts. “I think you like a little pain.”

Without a warning, she spins you around so that you’re sandwiched between her form and the wall, cheek pressed roughly against the cracked, yellowing paint.

“You feel that?” She grinds against the curve of your backside, revealing the hard plastic bulge underneath her costume. “S’my cock, baby. You gonna take it like a good girl?”

You whimper at the harsh treatment and the thought of what’s to come. When you take too long to work up a reply, she wraps a hand around your throat, delicate but forceful enough that you’re aware of her underlying strength.

“I asked you a question.”

Honeyed slick coats the apex of your thighs as you squirm in place, practically thrumming with adrenaline and a feeling you can’t name. You’ve always hated scary movies, but living through one is turning out to be much more of a thrill.

“Yes,” you pant with a shaky nod. “Please, yes. Just fuck me.”

Her knife clatters to the floor beside your feet and you flinch at the shrill noise. The hand around your throat is gone, disappearing somewhere behind you as she bunches the fabric of her costume around her waist.

You chance a look over your shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse of her form without the curtain of fabric blocking the view, and you’re met with the sight of her harness digging into her hips, leading below the waistband of her black cotton boxers.

A sliver of bare skin is visible between the dregs of her cloak and the hem of her underwear, accentuating the smattering of blonde hair trailing down from her naval. The muscles of her thighs flex as she pulls the length of her strap from its confines.

She reaches around to unbutton your jeans and tug the material down your legs, careless of the way your hips jerk from the force of her strength. When her fingers prod at your entrance and she slides her fake cock between your thighs, your palms flatten against the wall to keep yourself from crumpling over in bliss.

“S’that feel good?” Her thumb swipes at your clit in fast, messy circles while two thick digits part your velvety walls.

Little sighs and puffs of air are all you can manage as a response. Her fingers curl at the perfect angle to hit your sweet spot, and you think you could manage to come like this if she kept at it for even a minute longer.

To your disappointment, she frees her fingers before you can reach your peak, and you push back against her with a whine of protest.

She doesn’t seem to appreciate your breathy complaint, because she shoves your hips back against the wall with a bitter force that makes you gasp at the impact.

“Don’t fucking move.”

Her masked face peaks over your shoulder, creeping into your peripheral with an unblinking, static gaze.

You feel the tip of her cock nudge against your weeping entrance, sleek plastic rubbing against your skin just like the pale visage resting against your cheek. She drives her cock into you in one fluid motion, grunting as her hips slam into yours.

“Fuck-” you choke out a breathless, eager sound as she gives an experimental thrust against your backside.

Her broad figure envelops you completely as she grinds her cock into your slick cunt, agonizingly slow until she decides you’re ready for more. She’s everywhere all at once – a blur of heavy-handed touches over your hips and your chest. You can’t decide whether you’d like to push your breasts into the cradle of her palms or to contort yourself into the hollow of her frame in search of more pleasure.

“mmh- please, faster,” you beg, brows pinched together with the effort of keeping still like she’d asked.

“Yeah?” She picks up a bit of speed and returns her fingers to your clit. “Too cock drunk to be scared anymore?”

You nod along with what she’s saying, too focused on the tension twisting in your gut to pay attention to her words. You’d agree to anything as long as she kept moving.

A minute passes and you’re teetering at the edge of your release. She seems to notice, adding pressure to your clit and grinding her cock into you as far as it’ll go.

“That’s it,” she pants. “Come for me.”

The tension inside of you snaps and you shudder through your release with a choked sob and a silent thanks to the stranger holding you up. Your walls cling to her slick length as you come around her cock, heaving a shaky breath into the quiet, cramped room.

After a few more greedy thrusts and swipes over your sensitive clit, she stills inside of you and presses her mouth to your shoulder, almost like she’s kissing you through the plastic mold covering her face.

With a content flush crawling up your cheeks, you turn to look at her in the dim lighting. “You could’ve taken the mask off, y’know.”

She laughs wryly and shakes her head. “Where’s the fun in that?”

[candycandy00]

Roses in the Sky - An Original Alien x Reader Story Part 1

In a future where humanity huddles in decaying domed cities controlled by alien invaders, you and your best friend Anna work as make-shift nurses in a tiny clinic run by the young doctor Terrian. The city is ruled by the aliens' violent, half-breed offspring who serve as brutal overseers. You and Anna have always tried to avoid these overseers at all cost, but your life is changed when one of those same terrifying offspring is brought into the clinic, injured and unconscious.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

This is an original Alien (well half alien) x Fem Reader story! I hope everyone who enjoys my fanfiction will give this a shot! I’m posting the first chapter just to check for interest. Any feedback whatsoever would be loved! I’ve already written this story so it’s not going to delay my fanfics. Just thought I might post chapters of this between fanfics if anyone is interested.

Slow burn, as this is a novel-length story, but there will be smut in later chapters! Also: violence, blood, rape attempts, death of side characters, etc.

The sky was red, and you hated it. You hated more the fact that you couldn't remember what it looked like when it was blue. The whole city looked like it was coated in blood. You saw enough blood already.

You walked along the littered, decaying streets of Gallica with a blue duffel bag on your shoulder. You kept the hood of your gray jacket pulled down over your head and your hands buried in your pockets. Standing out was never a good idea, at least not where they could see.

As you rounded a corner, you were suddenly sprayed with red liquid, and you only dared to steal a quick glance down the alley it came from. A body was tumbling to the ground, and you didn't even have time to see who it was or what sort of wound had drawn such a huge amount of blood. Your eyes had been drawn, in that brief moment, to the pair of black-clad figures standing frighteningly still beside the body. Their bi-colored eyes flicked upward, toward you, but you returned your gaze to the street in front of you and walked quickly away.

Your heart pounded and your hands trembled in your pockets until you were far enough down the street to safely assume they would not stop you. You knew what happened to those unlucky enough to somehow provoke the half-breeds, regardless of intention, so you hurried along toward the clinic without looking back once.

When you reached the small, rundown clinic, you were met at the door by a girl in a nurse's uniform who placed her hands on her hips and scowled at you. “You're late!”

You pushed by her and dropped the duffel bag from your shoulder, flopping it onto a nearby cot. You unzipped it and pulled out your own uniform. "My alarm clock didn't go off."

The other girl stood leaning in the door way as you stepped into an empty patient slot and slid the dirty curtain closed. "Terrian is gonna be pissed at you,” she said. 

You emerged from behind the curtain in a white button-up shirt that was a little too tight and a skirt that was way too short. “He'll get over it."

"Yeah, as soon as he see's you."

You laughed. "You're jealous, Anna."

"Because that perverted freak lets you get away with anything?" Anna asked. She was so petite that even the smallest, tightest uniforms Terrian had given them seemed to fit her just right.

"No, because I look better in the uniform."

Both of you laughed as you laid out your supplies on rickety metal tables, organizing them neatly into categories according to how often they were used. The alcohol, thread, and needles were first in line, followed by bandages, then ointments and creams.

The door leading to the main treatment room flung open and a man with shoulder-length, pale blonde hair tied into a short ponytail walked in. He wore wide-rimmed glasses and a lab coat covered in blood stains. He looked angry as he approached, glaring at you, but suddenly froze when he rounded the metal tables and the full length of you came into view.

He smiled brightly, wrapping you into a hug. "You wore it today!"

Anna rolled her eyes and brushed her bangs, the longest part of her auburn hair, away from her face with her hand.

You pulled free from Terrian and adjusted your ill-fitting clothes. "It's the only uniform I had clean."

"And it's my favorite," Terrian said, then glanced toward Anna. "Stingy Anna always wears pants, even though I beg her to wear the skirt with the slit up the side."

Anna gave him a dirty look and he gave her a grin in return. He looked over the supplies then held out a thick stack of papers. "Look at all this. These are all patients who left the clinic in the last month and haven't returned for their checkups. Next week I'll be making a lot of house calls."

Both you and Anna frowned. You hated it when Terrian made house calls. He was the only doctor at the clinic, and you two were the only nurses. Things were hectic enough with the three of you, but when he was gone, the clinic was thrown into absolute chaos.

"Anyway," he spoke up, "we have a lot of patients waiting already. Let's get to work!"

You and Anna had no formal training, had not even finished high school, but you had both been living on the streets three years ago when Terrian approached you about working for him. He taught you two the basics, and the rest you learned over time. In this city, injured people couldn't be picky.

Together, you and Anna wheeled your metal supply tables through the swinging doors into the main treatment area of the clinic. Cots were lined up in two rows, facing each other, for the entire length of the large room. There was only enough room for one person to walk between each cot, and all but a few were occupied. People were moaning, screaming, crying, or unconscious. Anyone not in mortal danger was sent home after being stitched or bandaged up.

Illnesses were not often treated, as serious diseases were most often fatal no matter what the doctor did, but injuries were extremely common. Blood dripped from nearly every cot in the room, and a few patients were bandaged to the point of looking like mummies. You and Anna had both learned quickly to develop strong stomachs.

The two of you were checking on a patient that had been brought in last night with a chopped off leg when Terrian came zooming past you, pushing a stretcher.

"Emergency surgery!" he called, disappearing into the room you had just changed in.

You both dropped what you were doing and ran after him, then stopped dead in your tracks as soon as you were through the doors, staring at the figure on the stretcher.

"Doctor, that's... one of them,” Anna said, her voice almost a whisper. 

The man on the stretcher wore an ornate military uniform - black pants and a long black jacket with golden buttons up the front and matching trim along the cuffs and collar. The uniform was instantly recognizable to every single person in the city, because only they wore them. His skin was ghostly white and his hair a jet-black mess scattered across his face.

Terrian was ripping that glorious black uniform from the man’s motionless body. "I know what he is, Anna, but he's still a patient. And right now, he's dying unless we can stop the bleeding."

You and Anna hesitated just inside the door, looking at each other and then back to the man. Anna shook her head. "I can't... I can't help him. Not after all they've done."

Terrian stopped and looked at her. At first, you were sure he would scold her, but he merely sighed and nodded. "I understand. Go tend to the other patients."

You watched the other girl leave, then turned to Terrian. He looked at you with a pleading expression. "He'll be dead within the hour if we don't do anything."

You took a deep breath, then rushed over to Terrian's side. He held out his hands while you poured alcohol over them, then rinsed your own. Looking down at the young man, he seemed fragile, vulnerable. Almost human. His torso was exposed, revealing a long, deep cut across his abdomen that was gushing out blood. Funny how his body was absolutely impeccable, toned to lean perfection and resembling a stone statue, but marred by that huge red gash.

The cut was so long, and the bleeding so severe, that each of you began stitching on separate ends of the wound so that you would meet in the middle to tie things off. A sloppy job, yes, but the fastest route to closing the wound. He would heal faster than normal people, would probably be fine in a matter of hours, but only if you stopped the bleeding.

Once you and the doctor were finished, you again cleaned the wound and Terrian began bandaging the patient up. "Amazing, isn't it?" he asked when he was done, "It won't even leave a scar. Not on him."

You washed your hands in the nearby sink and thought of Anna. "It's not fair."

"Of course it's not," Terrian told you, wiping the blood from his hands on a stained towel. "Nothing in this world ever is.”

You dried your hands and walked again through the swinging doors. Anna was changing the bandages on a young girl's arm, but looked up when you approached. "How could you stand it? Helping that thing?"

"I didn't enjoy it, okay? But he would've died. This is a clinic, Anna. We're supposed to help dying people."

Anna stood up and stepped away from the young girl's bedside. "Yeah, people. Not them."

"But he's half human, isn't he? Isn't that enough?"

Anna snorted. "Was that enough to stop those creatures from barging into my house and slitting my mom's throat? Was it enough to stop them from crushing my brother's head under their boots? Was it enough to stop them from... from what they did to me?!"

You went silent. You didn't know what to say. You knew the half-breeds had killed most of Anna's family, but you had yet to hear any details before now. Finally, you reached out and took the other girl's hand. "I'm sorry, Anna. I'm really sorry."

Anna pulled you into a hug. "I know. I'm sorry I jumped down your throat. I just don't want to see you be hurt by them too."

"I don't think he's in a position to hurt anyone right now," you told her after you separated. "He's not even conscious."

Anna looked toward the swinging doors. "Be careful. Even when they look harmless, they're still dangerous."

You nodded, and wheeled your cart over to the other side of the room. You stopped at the bed of an elderly man who was missing both his feet. He was sweating and breathing heavily. You took his blood pressure and wrote the results in a tablet. He looked up at you with astonishingly kind eyes.

"If the nurses look like this, I'm gonna have to get my feet cut off more often," he said with a chuckle.

You pulled back the sheet to check his bandages. "You sure are a charmer, Mr. Renaldo," you said as you began unrolling the strips of cloth.

"Don't believe a word he says!" Anna called across the room, "I told him yesterday he could hold my hand while Terrian stitched him up and he said he'd rather hold my ass!"

Rhoswen stopped cleaning the bloody stumps where feet used to be long enough to lightly slap his shoulder. "You shameless flirt!"

He laughed and looked at the man in the bed next to him, who didn't seem to be in such good spirits. "Can't blame me for trying, can you?"

The other man gave a weak smile and looked away.

"Now now, let's not disturb the other patients," you said gently.

"Everybody's so glum. That's what those damn Pagoda want," he said.

You finished his bandages and patted him on the arm. You bent down and whispered to him, "Thanks for cheering us up, Mr. Renaldo."

The next few hours went by steadily but quickly, as you made your way around the room checking on people, giving out soup, changing bandages, and occasionally holding someone's hand while Terrian performed some sort of painful procedure.

Unfortunately, pain relievers were as rare and expensive as genuine jewels were in the olden days, when the sky was still blue. The only way to put a patient to sleep was to quite literally knock them out with a blunt instrument, which was a last resort.

The clinic was dirty and crowded and in shambles. The people were desperate, demanding, and understandably irritable. But you liked being there. You liked being with Anna and even Terrian, who could at least make you smile. You liked helping people who were suffering, because you enjoyed seeing a tiny flicker of hope in their eyes.

Because you could almost grasp a little bit of hope for yourself.

The clinic was all you had after your parents died. And everyday you dreaded returning to your tiny apartment where hope drained from every inch of you like red sun fading into black night. But at least you could always come back the next day, where you could laugh with Anna and everything else would fall away into dust.

It was almost time to go home, and all the patients had been taken care of. Anna left out the front door, not wanting to walk through the back room where she would have to see the lone patient on the stretcher.

You waved to Terrian, who was making one last run around the room to check everyone over, then walked into the back room. The young man was still unconscious and the rest of his clothes had been removed, a sheet draped over his body. You crept up to the stretcher and looked down, watching him breathe. After feeling certain that he was indeed unconscious, you walked into the empty patient slot you had changed in earlier and pulled the curtain closed.

You couldn't walk home in your uniform, as it was dangerous enough for a girl to be alone on the streets in the evenings, but wearing an outfit like that was a definite no. You quickly pulled it off, then reached for your jeans. But before you could even unfold them, you heard the curtain suddenly fly open.

You whirled around in anger, certain that perverted Terrian would be standing there grinning like an idiot. But you were not met with the smiling doctor, but the cold, expressionless face of the now conscious patient. His eyes, one blue and the other lime-green, bore into you, unblinking.

He was completely naked, save for the bandage across his abdomen, and you tried your best to keep your eyes on his face.

You suddenly realized that you were only in your underwear, and backed up until you bumped into a cot, holding your jeans in front of you. The man’s eyes never left you, and your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest. You had never been face-to-face with a half-breed before, not in this close proximity.

There was a pause, where both of you stared at each other for several moments, not moving. Then, in the blink of an eye, the man lunged forward and was inches away from you. You jerked backward, inadvertently ramming yourself into the cot where the metal collided with your bare back. You dropped to your knees, wincing.

When you looked back up, the half-breed was looming over you, and suddenly reached out one hand toward you. You had seen what the hands of half-breeds could do, had treated many a patient who had somehow ran into one of them. In fact, just today you had bandaged up a woman who's left arm had been pulled right off, like the wings off a fly, by a half-breed.

You curled into a defensive ball and screamed, your horrified voice ringing out through the clinic and undoubtedly to the buildings nearby.

[redux-iterum]

Can you talk a little bit about RiverClan? Honestly one of my favorite clans and I love seeing some headcanons that the fandom makes, do you have any in your redux?

We got a plethora of info about RiverClan here and here! For a brief rundown, if you're impatient or don't feel like reading all that:

RiverClan cats are round in face and body, with tails that are naturally half the length of a regular cat's (not a bob-tail, to be clear - it's just a short tail). They're most often patched in some color or another with white, and calicoes show up the most in their Clan, along with heterochromia. They're not very tall, but they can be quite heavy, and they have double-coats to keep them warm and dry in the water.

RiverClan is the main archive of the folklore, mythology and history of all four Clans. They take great pride in knowing every story that has ever graced the Clans' ears, and especially knowing every variant of those stories, including the original versions and sources. The other Clans are very grateful for this preservation of their cultures and always defer to RiverClan when it comes to the topic of tales.

Poetry appears exclusively in this Clan, and nicknames are most common here - both are considered bonding experiences and are highly valued.

Do not interrupt a RiverClanner when they're talking, and stars help you if you do it while they're telling a story. That and Sunningrocks are the only times you'll see a swimmer genuinely furious.

Speaking of, Sunningrocks is a heavily contested topic, and ThunderClan is regularly at war with RiverClan over it. It was originally neutral ground, but over the generations both Clans insist it belongs to them. Note that this rivalry is so normal to them that they don't even think about it - Gatherings are completely peaceful and conversations can happen there between the two with no tension. Of course, neither Clan has a high opinion of the other, but it's just another day in the office for them.

RiverClan cats like to name litters thematically more than anyone else. A litter may be named for the stormy night they were born in, or for the queen's favorite flowers, and so on. They use solid-color prefixes for patched cats due to patch-prefixes being few in number and RiverClan's population of patched cats being extremely high. It's expected that when hearing a name, for example, for a ginger cat, like Fox-, the cat will be ginger-and-white when met in person.

[rockmoth]

Ruikasa in Aristocats! (Very self-indulgent)

Quick briefing on Aristocats will be here too alongside the art if you haven’t watched it.

(Duchess) Tsukasa and his younger siblings (The Kittens) are pets of The Madame, and soon thrown out of the home by the vengeful butler of their owner who wants The Madame’s inheritance (which she has given to the cats).

After waking up in a foreign place Tsukasa quickly searches for help but luckily the alley cat (Thomas) Rui happens to be strolling by, he is immediately smitten with Tsukasa and when he finds out Tsukasa is in need of help he offers to help him get back, only then finding out that it isn’t just Tsukasa but his 3 younger siblings who need help too.

He initially walks off, but the four soon find trouble and Emu almost drowns, saved by Rui who despite his poor swimming ability jumps in to help. Rui in turn getting saved by two geese, Shizuku and Haruka.

As they close in on the city Rui offers to show Tsukasa and the rest his ‘pad’, despite it being a rundown building Tsukasa notes he quite likes it. And soon Rui calls in his band buddies, Nene, Akito and Mizuki, the three new arrivals and Rui blow the roof of the building with their music. Interrupted briefly by Tsukasa’s harp solo and Saki’s piano solo, Rui only getting more endeared by Tsukasa as his voice echoes. Once everything quiets down Rui and Tsukasa climb to the roof to talk.

In the end Rui asks Tsukasa to stay here with him, so they can be a family. That he loves both Tsukasa and his siblings and wants to be in their life. But Tsukasa has to decline, he has The Madame who’s worried sick about them and he simply cannot leave her. And yet they sit there on the roof holding hands leaning on eachother, savoring the time they have left, while unbeknownst to them Saki, Toya, and Emu have been listening all along, silently disappointed in the outcome.

The next day Rui leaves them as they see the Madame’s place. Although he is soon called back as the four are once more in trouble.

The butler still intent on sending the cats off, locks them in a box to send far far away. Thomas and the band cats and anyone else who hears of the story along the way, runs into the estate to tear the butler a new one. And they soon win as The Madame discovers her butlers -

disloyalty. In the end Rui get’s accepted into The Madame’s home and by extension he get’s accepted by Tsukasa who happily agrees to be with him in the end. Even the band cats are now allowed to come visit the estate to play their music for The Madame.

And Tsukasa’s younger siblings are all very happy with Rui too, often thinking of him as a second father besides Tsukasa himself.

And that’s Aristocats for you, with a little tweaking on my part.

[hitchyboi]

🔨An Important Gift🔨

(Been a while since I last wrote a story but figured I'd give a try with the moment Bubba became Leatherface.)

Content Warning: Descriptions of gore, violence, death, brief mention of cannibalism. Unhealthy family dynamics. The usual Sawyer family fun

Word Count: 3,383

Newt didn't get a lot of folks, wasn't much there to bring them. An old rundown town that many had already fled from after the slaughterhouse started laying off men. Nothing but flat plains as far as the eyes could see with the occasional clump of gnarled twisted branches. Summertime was different however, with the warmer days and breaks from college semester or brutal workload many decided to travel. Traveling sometimes brings ya past old towns with nothing much more to offer aside from an ant eaten gas station and sleezy bar filled with bikers.

Hands sat down on the old bar stool with a heavy grunt followed quickly by a booming laugh. Raising his hand towards the familiar faced bartender for his usual drink of choice. His heart was still hammering behind his ribs, adrenaline pumping through his veins making his head feel lighter before he even got his first drink in his system.

"I know what that grin means, got yerself another win today?" The bartender makes conversation as she slides the Shiner bottle towards the large eagerly awaiting hand. Tipping his head back, Hands felt the cold liquid slide down his throat effectively quenching both his thirst and the heat. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he looked back towards the woman, her name never having stuck with him, and nods his head. Lips pulling back with another wide smile that barred his canines with a heavy thump to his chest. The other racers surprisingly did well this time, and that made the win much more enjoyable. Seeing their excited faced with baited breath as victory was so close to their grasp only to plummet to despair as he snatched it away at the last minute. The utter lost of hope as they were forced into defeat was his favorite part. Hands could still feel the vibrations of the engine working its hardest to power the vehicle, the spinning of the wheels he knows were seconds away from burning out on him. One wrong move they could've blown out, he could have spun out but he knows his car. He's worked on that thing since the day he managed to buy it with money he saved for years. Turning it from a hunk of metal to a beauty that was a force to be reckoned with when he was in the drivers seat.

They took his photos, tried to interview him and get comments. There was screaming. There was cheering. Everything and everyone was gathered around him, focused entirely on him. But now, Hands just wanted a nice cold drink and some time to relax after all of the commotion. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, blonde strands sticking to the damp skin as he finished his bottle and motioned for a second one. It's arrival was just as quick as the first but was accompanied with the sounds of the bar doors slamming open and the hustle and bustle of more people flooding into the old building. New people by the sounds of it, loud, brash and daring just about anyone to try and prove they weren't as indestructible as they felt.

Like maggots drawn towards a corpse the youngens moved straight towards the fighting pit, eager to place their names into the lonely town's mind no doubt. Calling it a pit was generous, more just a section of the bar that had the chairs and tables moved out of the way as the people grew more rowdy and irritable. First started as petty qualms and drunken idiocy but then betting came, and with that a way to pass time and gain entertainment. Hands' had his name written on that old chalkboard a few times in the past when he felt really pent up and had no other outlet. Eventually people stopped trying to challenge him due to his record. Except for new faces...

More drinks were swallowed down along with time itself, the sky grew dark long ago and there was no rush to leave. Hands lost track of how many fights had passed during that time, he hates to say it but those new faces sure did brawl well. Money kept getting passed around as tempered started to flare both from the wasted income and injured egos. Like a coyote who's leg was stuck in a barbed trap, lashing out at everyone despite knowing it's already lost. Teeth snarling and slobber flinging everywhere. The more they struggle the worse of a situation they ultimately wring themselves into. More money gets passed and more snarling is unleashed. Eventually those panic struck eyes and shiny slobbered lips turned towards Hands.

"Think you're real tough guys huh? I bet you can't win one fight against Hands over there!" One of the dogs challenged as a way to hide the tail tucked between his legs. One of the new faces, a wiry and lanky rat looking fella, looked towards Hands with a sneer from behind the security of their group's main face.

"That lug's just been sitting over there not doing shit!" The rat snickers and slinks past his barrier towards the silent blonde. Gaze still trained on his own bottle of beer despite the many looks locked on him. Watching the bead of condensation slowly tip over the curve of the glass and rush down to meet the many before it. Beady eyes looked the large man up and down with slight hesitance that quickly got replaced by hubris.. "Sure he's big looking but Daryl could take him easily! No sweat."

"Well, whaddya say... Hands?" The main face, Daryl, wears a matching smirk to the rat looking man. Staring down towards Hands with a predatory excitement. A brief eyeroll and nudge towards the rest of his mates at the other man's name. With a sigh Hands finally pushed his bottle to the side and addressed the scene before him, silent as ever with a frustrated twitch in the brows for his blissful buzz to have been interrupted.

Irritated or uncomfortable with the long moment of silence from their next toy the wiry rat had laughed in his face. Spittle flying out of his maw with an ugly high pitched yowl. "He's fucking silent! What? Can't even respond to him properly?"

"He's either dumb as shit or too scared to talk," Daryl laughs as the rat gets somehow even closer towards Hands. His warm breath hitting and fanning across his cheeks in an unpleasant way. Words never came easily for Hands, never did and never will. That don't mean he's dumb though. He worked hard to get where he was, worked for the recognition he deserves. Words didn't get him anywhere, cause he doesn't need them.

The meaty sound of skin colliding with skin sounding throughout the bar as the too close lanky man fell to the floor with a pathetic yelp, skull knocking against the bar table on his journey downwards. A low guttural growl echoed after as Hands looks from the prone man back towards the pit. Like a gator closing in on its prey, heavy metal plated boots stalked towards the youngens. Lips pulling back into a dangerous grin as regulars scrambled out of the giants way.

Daryl's face was a delightful mix of outrage and shock from the sudden assault. Faster then one would anticipate from a man with Hands' stature, looking near 7 feet tall now he was in motion. "Just... got lucky with a damn sucker punch." He grits his teeth with a sneer as the giant stalked closer, an air of excitement with every long stride. Hands could see two of the weaker bikers say something to Daryl but there was no ounce of care for the drag racer. One of their faces eventually twisted in distain as they bolted towards Hands and once again for that night the coyotes attacked.... but their opponent was no cowering prey.

The first biker went down easy, a swift kick to his shin was enough to make him stumble. Hands clasped his paws around his head with a quick jerk, a sickening crack echoed throughout the old building. Body falling to its knees then meeting the ground without an ounce of refusal, it was too easy really. Like those chickens out at the farm Grandpa occasionally asks Hands to deal with. That set off the other biker, ramming her shoulder into Hand's stomach and knocking him back a few paces. Sharp and metallic spikes continued to ram against his stomach, nicking and scratching at the man's leather riding jacket. Words launched from the biker's snarling maw that constantly fell to uncaring deaf ears, only being met with a deep and sinister chuckle. Bending his torso forwards, thick arms wrapped around the biker's body and lifting her up without trouble. A moment as her world flipped, eyes meeting the sight of metal tipped boots, caked in dirt and what looked to be rust. Blood racing towards her head making her sight briefly blur with a light fuzzy feeling.

Then the ground came...

Once... Twice... Thrice....

Skin breaking away to invite the rough flooring to her skull, splintering and cracking. Blood gushed from her head like a waterfall, down her mangled face and painting the floor in it's eye catching hue. There was an ear piercing scream a first, then a garbled whine that came along with desperate scratching against his sleeves. Then silence. Hands could feel the struggle leaving her body with each slam to the floor, the way her muscle tensed at first only to be forced to accept their own defeat. Another laugh fell past the giants lips as he dropped the now lifeless and paling body to the floor. His enjoyment was short lived as a blunt force slammed against his face full force, successfully forcing Hands off balance and colliding with the concrete himself. Hands slowly blinked as he gazed up towards the ceiling, unable to focus his sight on the beams that hung high above him. Warm liquid trailed down his face, pooling over his lips complimented with a throbbing wave. Heaving his skull to turn to the side, Hands could make out the figure of the largest Biker... what was his name again?... standing over him with the broken leg of a chair. White knuckles wrapped around the splintering wood now decorated with dots of crimson.

"What the actual fuck is your deal?! Why would you-?! You can't just-?!" Words broke through, yelled in his face as the throbbing reached from his nose towards the back of his head now. When was the last time he had gotten hit like this? Skull screaming and painting the surrounding area with his blood instead of others.. Probably when he first found this joint after his 18th. Back when he was fresh and thought he was stronger much like these pests. He wasn't fresh no more though, and unlike then Hands was stronger in more ways then one. Yet this rambunctious ego flying meat landed a solid blow...

A thick hand shot out to catch the second blow from landing, yanking the wood away from his assailant and throwing it to the side. "D-don't you fucking dare get back up!" The biker yelled as he looked back towards some of the remaining patrons. Eyes wide like a deer as he watched each head turn a blind eye, choosing to remain unknown to Hands' perchance for violence in favor of remaining intact themselves. Blood coated the tongue that ran along his teeth as Hands grasped one of the tables and hauled himself back to his feet. Spitting the thick mix of blood and saliva to the side, he looked back towards the biker as his heart hammered against his chest. The air was sweltering and felt thick enough to choke on, the gaze the stared down at the biker was not one of anger or outrage but rather pure glee. Sharp canines poked out of the ear slipping smile that stretched across the rugged face, blood staining the lower mouth and chin. Hands was on him in an instant, the biker was large but nowhere near a similar stature to the drag racer. Mounting over him, thick callused fingers wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Those same gleeful eyes now forced to be the only point of focus for the smaller man as the force had him sputtering for air. Eyes nearly popping as he struggled to grasp and scratch at the hands around his throat. The more he struggled the more pressure seemed to be added until there was a brief moment of respite. The pressure relented as air greedily was pulled into his lung. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes and slipped down his cheeks as the pressure returned to the front of his shirt instead. Lifting his front half up and slamming him back to the floor, knocking the recently acquired air right back out. A yell ripped through the man's throat as his skull collided with the stained ground beneath him. Images of his friends recent similar demise reflooding his thoughts as he was lifted and slammed back down. Ever slam was accompanied with another yell, a yell of pain, of fear, for help. Each yell was met with a roar of laughter and mocker instead of help. Blood red smile and a laugh like roar stained the man's sight with each slam to his skull.

Blunt nails grabbed the thin flesh around the man's forehead, forcing the skin to break and rip open. Thick fingers wormed their way under the flesh and began to pull. Skin and fascia tore from muscle and bone, splitting away like melted cheese bit by bit down the man's face. Yells weakened to whines as the body beneath him lacked anymore strength to fight back. Lifting his arm up Hands held the newly skinned feature like a trophy. Matching bloody hand thwacking at his own chest as he stood over the biker. With a final sinister laugh he watched as the behemoth of a man placed the flesh overtop his face and Daryl saw himself.

...

White wooden door to an old family farm clicked closed as Hands returned. Grandpa never minded when family stopped by when needed, the house was always an open spot for family and that old couch kept in the living room was exactly where Hands wanted to be for the night. Certainly sounded better then driving all the way back to whatever shitty motel he was previously staying at while buzzed when this was much closer. Hands' yearning for rest was briefly interrupted by the sounds of hushed whispers and bare footed pitter patters coming from the kitchen. At nearly 3 in the morning, everyone that lived in the house should've been asleep. Grandma and Grandpa always went to sleep, stayed asleep and awoke at the same times everyday and Drayton followed his grandparent's schedules closely.

Quirking a brow from the sounds he turned directions and opened the door leading towards the kitchen instead and was met with the sight of his 3 youngest nephews frozen like deer in headlights. Nubbins and Bobby stood on either side in the kitchen, greasy hair tangled from what looks to have been a rough night and in Bobby's hand was... a stick of butter? Standing in between them was the youngest of them, Bubba, his little round body clutching onto a metal bucket as big bovine like eyes stared up at Hands brimming with tears at being caught. Shifting his weight Hands leaned against the doorframe as he tilted his head, the twin's taking his silence as a sign to action.

"Bubba was hungry! We... we just were gonna make him something to eat!" Bobby sprang to first, pushing the stick of butter to join the bucket in Bubba's arms.

"Yeah, yeah! He-he was real hungry! Wouldn't.. wouldn't stop pestering us to make him something, yeah!" Nubbins followed suit with his twin, grasping at and shaking their younger brother's shoulders for added effect.

Slowly nodding his head as he took in his nephews words Hands closed the distance and peeked into the mysterious bucket. Bubba gave a whine as he shakily held the bucket further out towards his uncle, the boy always had been terrified of getting into more trouble. Two thawing brains sat at the bottom and didn't look nearly close enough to be ready to cook just yet. Buttered brains. Raising his eyebrows with a gruff his gaze moved towards Bobby accusingly. Bubba was hungry yet they decided to try and make something known to be a favorite of the older twin? A gummy grin stretched across his pale cheeks, left with the reddish purple birthmark, as his hands placed themselves on his waist with faux confidence.

"Wh-what's in yer bag there?! D'you get us gifts again?" A sharp uneven nail pointed towards the bag slung over Hands' shoulder. A chuckle reverberating from his chest at his nephews attempt to offshoot the conversation. Honestly, Hands didn't really care, so entertaining his nephews 'distraction' was the path he chose. Shaking the bag down his arm he dropped it with a light thump and began digging around inside it. Nubbins and Bobby eagerly crowding around him and giggling, giggling on Nubbins' end. Bobby's always came out more as cackles. Bubba strayed further back as he shuffled from foot to foot, not seeming to realize the threat of punishment had vanished.

G-grandpa said you won another race, can.. can i comes with you next time? I-i wanna see yous race!" Nubbins bounces in place like a flea, fingers dancing around as he spoke excitedly. Hands have a small chuckle and nodded his head at his enthusiasm. Nubbins had really wanted to see this race but Drayton said he wasn't allowed to go. Grabbing the desired items Hands leans back and pushes them into their tiny greedy hands. An old pair of racing goggles found themselves in Bobby's dirty mits while Nubbins had acquired a collection of teeth Hands managed to nab off those bikers before he left knowing his nephew had started taken the hobby of crafting. The critters eagerly accepted their new possessions and scampering off to compare. With those two thoroughly content left little Bubba, though little seemed to be an understatement as time went. Seeming to grow much faster then the twins were now he's gotten proper food. Despite growing on step with a beeve the kid still cowered at the slightest raise in voice, the odd movement that seemed harsher then should and the leering gazes he thought was directed towards him at all times. The kid need some god damn confidence, the kid needed some strength. Hands had exactly the kind of strength the boy needed...

Lowering down to his knee Hands clasped the boy's shoulder with a softer smile directed towards him. Those glossy edges were still there but none seemed to fully drip over as of yet. Taking the bucket of brains out of his chubby hands he replaced it with his needed qualities. With quivering lips and shiny eyes the boy looked down at his gift, furrowing his eyebrows and looking back up at his uncle with a babbling sense of words. Hands smiled and motioned towards his face, blood long since dried and flaking off his skin trailing from his nose and downward. A small gasp fell from his lips as previously scared eyes took to a shine Hands much preferred the look of. Clumsily eager hands fumbled to position the skin over his own, the inside soft and plush against his plump cheeks with a warmth the boy always craved. As he looked back up towards his uncle a smile stretched across his hidden face, gaze tracing over the evidence of the skin's previous owner's abilities. Short thick arms lowered then slightly raised themselves on either side of his body as Bubba puffed out his chest in an imitation of his uncle.

Hands watched as Bubba turned and eagerly rejoined his older brothers in bragging about their individual gifts. Standing back up Hands glanced down towards the forgotten bucket of brains and stick of butter with a final thought. One last gift couldn't hurt... Gramps doesn't have to know.

[ashleestarz]

hello stranger of whom i do not know! completely unprompted question, truly just a spur of the moment thought, are you able to give us a run down of your au? spoiler free ofc!!!

Hello stranger hehe!! And yes I can happily provide a brief rundown of the au!! For starters this is info that’s important:

✦ both female and male Jesse exist in the universe (female Jesse being ‘Jessica’ and male Jesse staying ‘Jesse’)

✦ Romeo is dead in this version, left behind in the terminal

✦ the story has Jessica as the mc

✦ this story is actually very Blazerods (Aiden specifically) friendly, along with inclusion of background characters

Alright so now a rundown essentially of the story is that it takes place five years essentially after season2, the ‘letter’ Cassie Rose sent held weight to its words. And she’d come back for Revenge against Jessica. And so when she finds out she is reluctantly approving of a beacontown Endercon, she finds it the best time to act.

Cassie Rose had deemed the idea of reviving the witherstorm as the most fitting revenge against her (having messed with the commands of a new created command block) she unleashes it on the town. However the plan backfires out of her control and she dies. Becoming the vessel of the witherstorm. Who this time actually has a mind and a plan to wipe out the world if Jessica can’t find a way to stop it before doing so.

Thank you for the ask! ★👾

[court-jobi]

Trustfall

(gif from Pinterest)

Pairing: Din Djarin x biker!Reader

Words: 8,865

Rating: Teen & Up, (mature themes, but not graphic)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, chase scene action, catcalling, skeevey sleemos, brief descrip of injuries/roadburn, consensual touching, injury care, FEELINGS, fluff to intimacy, first kiss #thehelmetcomesoff ((fem reader, mild descriptions of features, hair etc.))

Summary: Most jobs' occupational hazards may include some warnings for heavy machinery: not 3rd degree roadburn and blaster shots to the face. Just your luck, that's what happens in your line of work.... While your partner-in-not-quite-crime Din Djarin has quite a bit of on-the-job experience with patching himself up after his skirmishes, tending to yourself after a shitshow like this is new territory. Some things are just too tender to see from behind the helmet-- and need the naked eye.

Sounds like he really needs to trust you if he's going to give you help with this one...

"I'm not going without you- -and you're not going alone" -P!nk, 2023

AN: thank you from the bottom of my heart, internet strangers, for the love for my little stories... this is a long one! here's to the countdown to season 3 finale, and a dose of feminine rage, badassery, and fluff to soften the landing~

For my Star Wars | Mandalorian Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

Anywhere in the galaxy you turn, there's a place you can navigate like the back of your hand: simply find where the drinks are flowing. Every watering hole may have its tricky language and even trickier problems, but the money's always good, and no questions are asked of you. 

At a cantina, you rely on this. Here, you know you can easily fall back to old habits in an instant. Safety first, of course. 

The rundown: where's the doors, where's the bouncers, where’s the barkeep and where's the biggest guy in the room. You've trained yourself to  look for gaps, low traffic areas where you could make a quick dash out if things are looking sideways. Do all those things as fast as you can, too, because everything can change in a second. Tables can flip over like a credit chip– tempers, all the more quick to the draw. Oh, and don't be suspicious. Give a little smile if you can chance it– unassuming glances always make folks feel better.

But it's a bit different now. You don't bother to look up when you cross the threshold of a new place. You don't dissect all these fine details. After all, you've got a green baby that's twisting in his sling across your hips that has your attention split, and he comes first. 

That's a full time job on its own… and whenever he comes along for the day, you don't forget the best part of the arrangement you find yourself in. 

You've got a bounty hunter in stride. Worry is the furthest thing from your mind. He’s got you. 

Upon first entry, the Mandalorian you've been hyperspace hopping with comes in like he'd likely done hundreds of times before. He's no stranger to reading a room, either. Though this time, with you and the little one tucked away in your crossbody, the company he keeps is completely different. This dynamic is far from your norm, but there’s so many things you love about it– and as it turns out, the feeling is mutual. He tells you so, that you don’t have to worry when he’s with you. 

You buckled in the kiddo yourself– a break for Mando's still-tender shoulder. The scuffle you'd just come from not twelve hours ago was still fresh in both your minds– not that your sabacc face showed it. He appreciated your offering to keep tabs and hold him today. Still gotta fix his pod after the 'swimming incident' last week… after this payday, maybe you two could swing it after your winnings arrive. 

Heading towards his unofficial corner of this planet's best underground lounge, Mando picked up through his peripherals the bits of chatter– no… -hunger- coming from some of the smaller pods of wranglers. Their attention wasn't due to the shinier beskar plates he wore. No, it was all aimed at his newfound companion. 

They're all looking at you… not that you notice.

One in particular caught Mando’s honed attention as you neared, passing him to the bartop while he waited. The man wasn't the biggest in size, but Mando knew this type; that smarmy smile told him he’s thinking himself roguishly handsome, but made of complete slime and bantha-shit.

“Bike’s out back~” you paused by the bar to pick up the drink you’d nodded for, and made a convincing-looking fake sip while sticking close to his side. “-unregistered. Pokka dropped it off this morning for a nearby delivery run. It’s not the prettiest thing, but it’ll do in a pinch for a two-seater.” 

Just after that line left your lips, something in the schmuck’s eye and his low murmur to his buddy. A near growl about the ‘not the only thing I'd pinch– pretty thing, coming right up’ made your partner turn with micro-precision in the direction of the smugglers–

–and catch your hand with a fierceness. Right in front of their table.

You're surprised by the sudden gesture. 

When he did let go around the back of the row of booths, the Mandalorian more or less guided you by the small of your back instead. If anyone were invested enough past their drink's contents to be watching, they’d find you in a half embrace. This move allowed Mando the space to tuck you into his side with a corralling arm. You'd honestly not registered what he’d witnessed until he fell back to your pace with a gentle ‘this way’. A pod of spacers were gawking– at the shiny guy loaded to the gils with blasters, you thought. 

Now closer, you had less room, but still managed enough to swing the munchkin to your front. The ‘bag’ made a little noise- an indignant question at your description of the ride you’d secured.

“Sorry, excuuuse me- three seater! Two and a half more like, with your size...”

Situating yourself with some disappointed looks your way, you took the near end of the bench Mando directed you to. Didn’t take much to know not to keep eye contact too long with any of these unsavory characters around you, so you kept to yourself. Once Mando slid in from the opposite side, you asked him, 

"Quite the crowd huh?--oof–"-

Rather than allow the space for the little guy in between you, Mando slid in right beside you: an arm behind you and a small thud of his heavy fist on the table. The tracer clacked as it landed in front of him.

Someone's got him acting testy. You eyed your hunter as he brooded; a small twinkle flitted behind your eyes, 

“See someone you know?" you asked.

"No." the Mandalorian spat out, curtly.

"Then what's wrong?"

His helmet turned to you, then ahead again.

"I didn't like how they were looking at you."

You bristled, really checking the room for the first time, managing the kid in your lap with a little glance. From the moment you took stock of the table nearest you, their quick darts in your direction told you just how rusty you were. They’re all locked onto you. 

The whole point of your taking the kiddo for Mando was to seem less out of place, not a target.

“You don’t– think folks all the way out here are gonna go after him?” Nervousness flared in your voice, though for the sake of appearances, you didn't dare let it show on your face, “Who even reads the Imp notices anymore? This whole town’s a glorified farming dustball-”

Mando corrected you, “Not him.” 

He murmured that into your shoulder like it was obvious.

A stunted breath tripped up your budding confusion. 

"Well, if it's not the sight of a baby in a bar making them creep, what then?”

“You.”

Not for the first time, you checked the look of yourself. It’s what you faced from the reflection of the beskar cheek looking back at you when you addressed him– never his face, but yours. Then, to the room. Sure, you weren’t so rough-and-tough looking from the outside, but–

"..Hold on." Flatly, you turned towards him; a quarter turn from your cozy spot. "You're saying I'm the distraction here."

All you got  in response was a little quirk of the helmet. 

You bristled, “I’m not the only-”

“I know you’re not,” he hushed you again, still scanning his sights across the venue like a sentry camera, “but these bantha-breaths are all the same when it comes to- distractions.” 

Your eyes fluttered in a muted roll. “And you think that’s new?”

“New to me.”

“Cmon. All this? You’ve gotten plenty of looks before.”

“Not the way they were watching you. The kid had nothing to do with it.”

You never take having such protective company for granted, but Mando's insinuation that you're bringing unwanted attention was surprising– and irritating.

“Please. You flatter me, I hardly think I’m the biggest draw in the room, hon.” you settled in. Harmless, but indignant, “You want me to really up the appeal? Then we should have planned ahead, and set up a rotation for me in the dance schedule.”

His gloves crackled at the creases– their grip unmistakable, “That’s an invitation for trouble.”

“No, messing with you is an invitation for trouble. I’m not trouble.”

“May not mean to, but you might cause us some.”

In truth, this observation wasn't unfounded; of the scarred, sweaty hunters and mechanics that filled this bar, you'd likely look out of place somewhere half this packed… and there’s no mistaking with the way you’re dressed that you are no fair-eyed performer like the real beauties in here. Sure your face under the visor shield might tell a different story when you appear more intimidating on the road, but here on this world, you passed over the need for even a 

This was your job, and not your first time in this line of work. You wore the kit, you didn't strut or flaunt your stuff around, and you certainly never drank on the job either. Just looked and played the part you needed to. If he didn’t want you to come meet the contact, then why ask you to join him? The whole point of this plan was to be seen very publicly as a united front, so you wouldn't be suspected of funny business; even if that was going to be your specialty after you start phase two: divide and conquer, as you always do.

Plans change, sure– but only when things turn sideways… not when he’s got some alpha male jealous streak going on behind that bucket of his. That hand grab earlier proved it.

Mando just took centering deep breaths while you ran out of accommodating alternatives. 

“Well, then, what do you want me to do?” the short candor that came out of your mouth wasn’t in your nature– but this was getting annoying, how short he’s acting. He’s not normally this snippy with you… “What, ‘wait by the tram’ till you come out, so I don't tinge that reputation of yours?”

The helm regarded you, then shook off– like he was redacting on the spot.

“I- didn't mean-”

And the backpedaling,

“-Fine.” 

No use fighting for a place you shouldn't be in the first place, because it would only make his job more difficult. Feelings or not, you weren’t out to throw a wrench in the operation just for the sake of your involvement. 

And even if your reason hadn’t won out, you sure weren't up for a soapbox moment either– despite its occupancy in your chest. 

You unstrapped the kid from yourself and placed him in your spot, 

“See ya in a bit, bud,” you laced a kindness into your voice- a sweetness just for him, “Maybe your dad will get his job done better without 'arm candy' throwing off his mojo."

Beelining it to the backdoor, you carried on steaming. You didn't bother looking back, which also meant you missed the Mandalorian’s lock on you the whole way across the rounded bar. Not that you had any doubts that he would be watching you; in fact, you counted on it. But you knew with even more certainty that he wouldn’t stop you. Not when there’s a job to do. You’re just going to set out on yours early. 

Though you may not always see alike, there’s yet to be a final say that makes you not trust him so far. You’ll change the plan, call ‘plot twist’ and go right along with him.

Maybe one of these days he’ll begin to trust you at your word… do Mandalorians even do that with folks who aren’t their kind?

It's a job. A job you can do damn well. So, back to old habits it is. Keep the bike warm and ready for go-time.

In your retreat, you caught a comm from him. Just a blip and slight vibration that caught your attention on your wrist: 

/be careful/

– and just like that, all the temper heating your neck and chest: shocked by a bucket of cold, graciously vigilant water.

Your Mandalorian couldn't resist.. and you really couldn't fault him for it. 

You stopped at the door, slowing as the two words staring back at you made you come to a standstill. Checking back and finding that the man's brilliantly shiny helmet had indeed stayed tracked on you the whole time sent that pang in you alive and burning. A little breath huffed from your nose, but you didn't scowl at him. 

It's just in his nature, he can't turn that off. 

You looked back and nodded.

'I will'. 

“Fancy seeing a livin' breathin' angel who knows her way around a rig~” 

Outside, the smarmy man you'd missed noticing before made good on his interest in you and racked up his courage to act on it. He swaggered over to you by the open air skybike model you’d secured. 

As aloof as he could seem, with that peacocking chest on full display…. He’d even set one of his holsters off to the side, a clear invitation for you to notice another package. Ugh. 

“Vision a’ beauty in a dark, little corner like this, too…" he layered on the sugar,"Must be my lucky day, I tell ya!”

You weren’t having this pathetic attempt. 

“Does this actually work on women…” You leveled your face.

Felt good, giving him a stare down before going back to your solid watch of the back door. 

“C’mon now, pretty thing,” more swaggered steps towards you had your insides cringing– and had you moving ‘round the speeder to the mount side, “Couldn’t keep my eyes off’a ya in there– yer a stunner!”

And you don’t take a hint. “Not interested– I’m working.” Kept talking, too, like your words had just been a sneeze. 

“Thought you was that bounty hunter’s girl, but ah-” he comically searched the perimeter of the garage, “--don't see ‘im nowhere.”

You scrolled through your wristcom, “If you did, I’d be sweating if I were you.”

“Got the hots for him, do ya? ‘R are you just friendly is all?”

It took every ounce within you not to react. Don’t give him fodder, just watch the door and keep a  level head. Like he does. 

You cursed yourself. Mando really did have the eyes of a hawk-bat inside. Meanwhile, you were getting rusty– or just far too comfortable. 

Still, this moron was clearly set on poking the still-tender temper inside of you.

“Thinkin,” he made every move to sidle up to you, “I don’t have yer name, sweet’art- whaddthey call ya?”

“Look– I’m not here for my health. Buzz off.” You won’t be getting it.

And another step, to come lean on the front dash- “Right then– I get to guess. Sweetie, it is~”

Some sanity passed through your head, and you figured… the more you talk to this joker, the more he’ll try his luck. A hand on the palmbar, you revved the bike to full power; making your ‘Leech’ jump back, immediately floundering–

“Hey, hey, hey!!” and his sights roved over you, and in an instant, you equally revved his engines, “Ah, bit of fire in ya, huh? Like that in a bitch… Sure you know how to ride this beauty? or I can show you the ropes~”

You finally let your disgust show.

-and thank the Maker for the comm beep to save you. Your partner’s speech-to-text came through on your wrist tab,

//Making an exit//

//Which bay did you clear//

All too grateful, you typed back the number plastered on the overhead air systems installed above you. 

It took a bite of your tongue to keep from writing back a fuller response:

/Listen to the sound of this skug-bag’s jaw hitting the floor- that’s where I’ll be/

but instead you mounted after a quick couple letter keys.

“Well, it’s been a not-so-lovely chat here,” you upturned your own helmet with a flourish, “But after the loss of these braincells I can never get back, I gotta run and make my pickup now.”

The man made a last attempt to lean in over your from the front handlebars, 

“Nah, c’mon, gorgeous, I’ll make it worth your time real good. What’s the hurry? Sure there’s no harm in a bit a’ hooky?”

You laughed high in the back of your throat, giving gushy-sweetness back, with a side of ice–

“Not on your life, sleemo. Door to Hell is open, I hear.”

Then with the pop of your helmet on, you floored a fast reverse and drove off to leave him in the dust.

It almost occurred to you when you paused again to see what became of him, but you were shocked that he was in fact coming after you– with a gang of about four other men. Not that you could make out clearly what they were joshing about in the metallic hangar, but the slang they used about what features were hidden by your clothes was obvious…

The door you parked by remained silent when you rolled up; meaning you’d probably met Mando too soon. He likely wasn’t ‘a few moments away’ after all. And the gang who’s laughing so boisterous was nearing the exit ramp that would take them straight to you.

You tapped the wrist comm again, speaking directly. 

“Got company out here too, Mando,” you firmed up, “Bit of nasty company if that makes a difference!”

In a blink’s time, the audio came back, blaster fire sparkling through the speaker, 

“Same shits from the bar?”

You chortled, then answered clearly,

“Yup. Bold guys, up close.”

“I’ve got their buddies inside too.”

“Well kriffin’– do you need backup in there then?” Your slow reverse and frantic scooting along the floor looking for someplace inconspicuous -and quick- to hide your ride flew through your mind as you came up with plan ‘B’. “I’ll stash this, and lay lower inside.”

“No time– Take a lap– don’t stay where you are–” the Mandalorian blurted out.

You heard the rev of the gang’s engines as they idled around the exit ramp, “Or could you just put a rush on it? I’m already right here–”

“I’ll find you,” he stressed. “DO NOT engage them–”

But before you could snap back with–

“Guess you’re in need of a new boyfriend after all, Sweetie Pie!”

The crass voices appeared from above. While you’d slowed and chatted, they’d hopped the roof and made to bear down on you. The newcomers to the group, a couple Trandoshans and another Kel Door with a new retrofitted mask roved over you like you were a batch of Quarren hot-pot.

Oh, that blaster at your side was tempting… but you revved into top gear, and changed the route again. 

Keep away it is. Just ‘till the boys show up. 

In the end, you lose your seedy admirers after your third pass around. Touch and go driving proved in your favor, messing with their sloppy sense of acceleration with each lap around the back parking area. That was perhaps your saving grace– letting their inebriated states affect their pursuit instead of performing on the offensive– but it was short lived. 

Your first chatty Leech gets a corner up on you and forces your trek on the inner wall, where the backdoors line the complex. At this stretch of buildings, there weren’t any more service ladders like where Mando was going to meet you. 

Coincidentally, there were garbage units separating where that former landing zone was to where you are now. So when you skidded to a perfect stop, Leech rammed into the back and managed to jam his front end into the back of your second-seat attachment. Lovely. A flare of alarm chilled your back– feeling him far too close for comfort. 

The blaster you carry is holsted between you- he’d see if you turned to grab it. You’ll have to slip down for your vibroblade if he tries to grab you.

And of course now is when he comes out of the far backdoor– 

The Mandalorian burst from the firefight in the back door and -0ki whipped around the railing looking for you. The munchkin spots you first, and with your visor’s magnification, you see his smile- and subsequent squeal- which drags the Mandalorian’s attention to you.

From clear across the divide, his blaster raised and you leveled down with your handlebars: like he showed you.

“Hey now, friend! I was just returnin’ yer lovely thing to you!” the man’s voice flipped up several octaves in defense. 

The maglock between your bikes activated, and he dragged you in reverse ever so slowly, 

“Been runnin’ me and my crew like wild around the place. Been a fun chase- yeh must have yer hands full of this girl-”

Mando shot the man’s acceleration chamber till it hissed– stopping him in his tracks.

“You stay.”

You bashed the man’s face with a harsh elbow while his sights are down.

“YOU CRA-”, he recoiled with a bear swipe while you dismounted to try and fling him off– “--AH!”

But another shot grazed the man’s foot, making him slump onto his speeder.

He’s buying you time. 

Running through your mental catalog, you risked the man’s pain-induced split focus to detach your bikes from his panel’s shortcuts– but didn’t miss the Mandalorian’s next shout,

“Touch her and you lose your head next.”

You smirked under your visor. He’s gonna take him out anyway, you just know it. Swinging your ride back around to where you can remount never felt so good. 

Now, you really did try to avoid close calls like this as much as you can manage. But if nothing else, this run-in proved you could always learn a bit more, should spare reading up on grav separation, and maybe outrig yours a bit better when you get the chance…

A spared nod to the Mandalorian while you backed up– and his nod back– gave you the confirmation from the high ground that you needed. 

From your angle down low, your helm didn’t have the scope for it. But Mando’s does; you’re cleared to run the gap.

Against the exasperated Leech’s expectations, you jumped it. Sure enough, when you landed, no more jeers followed. Only yells of surprise from the guy’s crew, who were screaming around his form laid flat on the ground, some to call for a extinguisher droid for the speeder fire, another calling out for a medic…

Under the railing where Mando stands, blaster shots chink off his backplate again, signaling him to get out of there. A perfect land later, Mando mounted behind you and wedged his foundling between the both of you. 

“I take it you got it?” you asked, your modulated voice still perking up the Child’s ears.

He answered with arm wrapped tight your waist, “Got it. Drive.”

With the Mandalorian and the kid’s padded sling strapped tight to him, the three of you dipped off the ledge of the garage, leaving the bad vibes- and big paycheck -secured. 

–However, there's a gap in the antigrav you don’t account for. Turning sharp back to the main road, you slip off a level, and wipe out. Happens so fast, you don’t even breathe– just feel a punch to the gut where the front end of the bike lurches back against you when you curl forward around it as it spins against the momentum.

 The acceleration drones when it falls off kilter, the compressors go creepily silent, the metal plates grind against your eardrums, scrapes and crashes, and so do you.

The Child’s fine; if just a little dizzy when Mando curls away from his landed position behind you. Made of straight beskar steel everywhere it counts, he’s perfectly fine too. 

You? Not so lucky… You can count on one hand the amount of times over the age of fifteen where you’ve had a messy landing– and this makes the top ten. 

Crashing feking hurts. But you can still feel your legs; that’s good.

You rolled onto your back at Mando’s yell for you. He’s calling for you by name– louder and longer each time it leaves his vocoder– before you can reorganize your rattled brains enough to make any noise. A test of tilting your head proved you had range of motion. An adrenaline-high hand simply gave a thumbs up to him, even though your cheek burned. 

White hot sting radiated across your face even when you chucked your helmet off with gasps of breath, as fiery steam and dribbles of blood were dangerously seeping close to your eyeline. From your good eye squinting to the side, you caught the remnants of your smoking, stolen ride spun out amongst some employee’s stash of speeders. So much for returning that poor two-and-a-half speeder back in one piece…

The Mandalorian led you out of the hangar with a steady hand on your back- for support, this time. 

Even through the leather, you felt the pressure he gave as a buffer between you and any lingering watchers. Out in the bustle of a crowd should have provided a comforting white noise to be moving along in, fading into their routine existence through the foot traffic. But not this time; not with your ear still ringing and ears popping every time you swallow. Instead you were still shaking off the chills that creep sent when he was starting to block you in.

That hand on your back slid onto your waist, tucking you closer to him as you walked and merged with the crowd. Then, while your attentions moved to the booths, he slowed a bit and moved up to your arm.

"Are you alright?"

You lifted up, that soft tone a sharp contrast to what you’d just witnessed: as he made his threats and his kills like the hunter he was. It hadn't bothered you, in fact the protective nature of him made you feel slightly good. 

You smiled and fell into his side. You didn't realized how tightly you'd crossed your arms over your fractured helmet. His touch alone- brief as it was- encouraged you to release the tension.

"Yeah... Thanks for that." You sunk a bit. With every breath, the adrenaline ebbed more and more from you, and your cheek stung.

You both could bicker about how you had it covered another time. When there was some distance between this incident, maybe, but thanks was due here. There was no game of ‘I told you so’ between you; it was unspoken- but the care won out over any personal beef.  

Your ego is plenty bruised over having a wipeout in front of him. And yet, even as he'd brought you to your helmet, the first comment he made wasn't about how reckless you'd rounded that corner, or how you got yourself into a chase scene picking a petty fight… 

Mando was by your side the instant your hand fell limp after your cheery hand signal, and said something about how this helmet saved your life. In the moment, you were just sad its visor shattered. 

"Spent a lot of credits on the tint job…" you groaned. 

"You're bleeding. From the head."

"Fine, fine," you waved him off, "I'll spring for substance and not style next time."

"Thank Ashla her humor's intact," Mando bemoaned to the Child. "C'mon, let's get you up and out of here."

"Ow, shit– that's gonna bruise…  all down here, too.." 

"I've got you."

He looked ahead and motioned with a little nod to the corner of the side street. Once under a pavilion cover he loosened his hold on completely in favor of facing you.

"I'm.. I'm sorry that happened."

"Yeah," you sighed back, "Wasn't the finest show of my skills. Even stellar  have bad days too, see?"

"N-. Not that," he shook his head a little, "When I found you, out back."

You stood confused. "What, that a creep wanted to get in my pants? It's not the first time, and probably not the last." 

What started as a quip in your voice turned more genuine as you admitted the truth, 

"You uh… had that part right at the bar. How they're all the same, y'know."

He bristled, the turn of his helmet evident.

"That's happened to you before?"

You shrugged it off, a little surprised that he hadn't been privvy to that kind of scene.

"Just read the stats. It happens more often than folks care to admit, honey,” that sick feeling returned, the one that made even your toes lurch.The sourness of your memories made your broken helmet decidedly more interesting to look at,  “Dregs say whatever they want in these parts, really anywhere from Mid-Rim out. Don't like being told 'no' for the most part either… It just depends on how far they'll go to try and ‘convince you’." 

He really must be all business in establishments like that to never see those locales from another's perspective… But you grin back up at him while he stared speechless. 

"...I haven't ever had someone come to my rescue before.." you admitted. "That was– welcome. Appreciated."

As expressionless as the helmet made him, the slight tip of the head spoke wonders for you. Mando's hand rose to catch your top wrist and rubbed his thumb against it– solidifying those feelings he didn't dare speak in public. Without any facial features to go on, you relied on these touches and read into every little thing: chipping up your chin is an encouragement, a pat on the shoulder is a quick ‘atta girl’ or ‘stay put’ depending on the situation. And this little hold on your wrist spoke equal wonders, a hidden language of care:

 I’d do it again in a heartbeat, cyar’ika. Simply say the word, and it’s done.

Your pause was a quick one, and with no more words shared, he simply took claim of your hand, adjusted your fingers to work together, and led you back to the shipyard. 

The Child would peek his head out now that the action was over. He’d crane and lean up at you both as much as his sling could afford him– though he was most interested in what sight was in front of him: your hands now fitting together like they belonged. 

His buir was currently holding your hand, like he’s reached out to hold his own three fingered claw when they first met. He hoped this meant you'd stay, too. With his green-skinned hand, he could almost reach yours and add it to the pile.

......................................................................................................

The Mandalorian was quiet that night. The quiet itself was not unusual, no not that– setting a course and spending his time in the cockpit making the adjustments he wanted was a completely normal task for him. He always knew where to go, which route to plug into the navicomputer to coast comfortably in this hyperspace lane for the next few hours so he didn’t have to stay up there and babysit it. You left him to it; this brand of silence was nothing really out of the ordinary for him.

You thanked his strictly-taught discipline tonight. While he stayed busy, you were able to clean yourself up without an audience. 

After an indulgent sonic shower by his insistence, you fiddled around in the small kitchenette. The domesticity, the residential feel you’d fostered on the ship piece by piece was a sharp contrast to how the bar made you feel. The security of this place; you fall back into the feeling of ‘home’ here everytime you come up the ramp. So far tonight, that’s meant heating up a few bean rolls, monitoring the data cells you’d comped from your intel, and watching the kiddo roll around that little knob he was always sneaking off with. The minute after you’d realize the twist top of the gearshift throttle in the cockpit was missing, you’d smile. What thievery, at such a young age… at least your pilot didn’t have need of it yet.

You shook your head and laughed when the Mandalorian sighed behind you– clearly finding it, too.

"What am I gonna do with you, pal..." He wrestled with himself more than anything- begging the odd baby for reason, and picked him off the floor.

After setting him on the crate, the Mandalorian came up to the side of the sink. You didn't move much from what you were doing, but looked up when he just stood there quietly for too long.

"--What's up?"

“Really need to clean that.”

At the nod, you knew what he meant– the split brow and cheekbone.

Your instincts flared- hedge away. 

You fanned your face,  “I was just getting him settled first. It’s clean, I was just letting it cool down a minute.”

Your name left his lips. Firm as steady morning rain, and in a similar hush. You didn't need to see what color they were to know they were set on you and only you.

“Look, it’s only this much, see?--AH! Oof, nevermind..”

At your cheek’s lift, the fire came back. The move brought a tear to sting your eye. 

In a second, the Mandalorian came to your aid, a bracing hand on your waist as his hand cupped your chin to see the damage himself. He asked you to take another step towards the light, so you did. It seemed like he was tilting about a bit, even as he tested the touch around the roadburn. You winced at it each time- from both the poking and the bulb of the overhead glaring into your eyes. 

“It’s pretty bad, huh.” you mumbled out.

Guilt came through the sigh as a little exhale. You barely caught it, but it struck you in the stomach. The night, its quiet, and the privacy of hyperspace allowed you to bring your favorite secret to your lips–

“How bad is it –Din?”

“I can’t see it too well.” Mando -by his true name- told you, a skosh gentler. “My scanner doesn’t always allow me to see the debris from the clotting clearly. Hard to tell,” he weakly let go of your chin. 

“Damn,” you sniffed and looked about for the tabletop lantern back by the kiddo, “Do I need to get the handheld?”

Then, with a little look back to the hull where he sat occupying himself sleepily by the towel pile, your Mandalorian took maybe his largest risk ever:

“-I need you to close your eyes for me.”

“Huh?” 

“I need to see it better. Need– you to close your eyes for me to do that.”

Realization punched you again. Made your ears prick– and gooseflesh chill you.

You can't let him do this... You know he would. 

“We can get a medscanner, Din. It's not too late to stop somew-.”

“No,” he caught you again, “I can do it; need to do it. I just– I need to trust that you’re hearing me.”

It's less of an order and more of a curated ask, one that begged for assurance. This man would always do his best to help you– but you never imagined he'd go this far… what he's willing to do for you. 

It's the most vulnerable request he'd ever made of you; a Mandalorian's trustfall. 

Now? You took back every doubt you had in the bar about him. You looked him straight in the visor –while you still could.

“...I hear you, hon.”

It nodded back to you; just one, solemn motion.

“Okay. Come sit here.”

You obeyed and locked onto the sight of the child while the Mandalorian fell to a knee in front of you, then propped himself up on both to match. With prepped gauze and tools to extract the pebbley shards, you winced at the canister of bacta being shaken up in his palm. A gloved palm came to caress your thigh. It’s meant to soothe.

“It’s ok. Gonna get you taken care of.”

“Yeah,” you feigned a brave face. 

But every nerve ending fluttered at its tips when you felt it: his now bare hand brushing your good cheek,

“Do not open them, please.” you heard him whisper in the helmet. 

The already low-lit vision of the cabin fell dark at your will. And you nodded– any reaction of his, unseen.

With the latch release and depressurization, you knew the helmet was off. And without meaning to, your ears prickled at every breath, every swallow, every ounce of sound that man was making – now naked to the hallway of this ship.

“Okay,” a gentle baritone spoke in the air between you. It’s new, like a stranger.  “Hm– looks like we’re out of the stim solution, I don’t have any numbing cartridges. But I have the wipe kind. Gonna do that first.”

You hummed your agreement, then immediately whimpered at the first dab.

The Mandalorian froze and detached.

“It’s just a wipe…”

“Tell my face that.” You cringed. “Sorry, juss' stings.”

“I know,” he soothed, “T’sgonna be alright. I’ll make it as quick as I can. There. Gonna get these pieces out now.”

He did work pretty quickly now that he’s out from the helmet. You barely felt the edge of his tweezers as they scooped the wedges of asphalt from that high point of your cheek where the visor of your headgear had shattered. Before you could hedge away from one particularly deep poke, you heard him speak again, 

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier,” Mando peeped up from his quiet, “About... men who've said those things to you before."

You softened. Was he still thinking about it? That was hours ago.

"And.. I know I've said things like that. I just wanted you to know, I can't stomach the thought of you feeling that way. And I apologize if I have ever done so, even if you'd never said a word about it. If you want me to stop, I will."

Kriff, this man. You’d sooner lay across an electrode-fencing rig than ever make him stop. You sighed, and not simply from relief as you heard him switch tools.

He’s a man of few words, but not meaningless ones. The first compliment he ever paid you was about your fire- your heart, your will, and how strong you were and how you believed. Later when you had to doll up for that ridiculous undercover function, he finally spoke his mind in the moment and said you looked ‘stunning’. He calls you 'pretty thing' often; mostly when he's giving you a hard time. Truthfully he'd called you all sorts of things, both in Basic and not– which likely gave him this pang of guilt all the more.

But those endearments were just that: things that gave you joy, a peace and comfort with him. A sweet word here or there? It's born out of familiarity- the ease of tongue that comes with living in close quarters. The draw between you two is perfectly synchronous– it is an unexpected bond through bizarre shared experiences in an infinite galaxy that inevitably brought two rough-and-ready folks together and practically conjoined at the hip. To   

Your Mandalorian is not a man without faults, but he'd never once made you feel filthy.

"Oh stars above, you sweet man.." you chuckled a little, wrenching your palms from your shirt hem and blindly batted up in the air to find his arm. "You've never made me feel like that. It's different when it comes from you. You know that, right?"

He huffed out of his nose. Relieved, if his trigger fingers were any indication as they tilted your cheek again, 

"I didn't want to assume. You're always so collected. Talented, confident.. But you're– painfully polite."

You giggled at that. All of his touches that root you to the spot when you least expect them are anything but unwanted. Of course you were polite when he jumps the gun on grabbing you while out in traffic, or whipping a hand in front of you at a hard stop– but you've never once taken offense to that. 

With a tentative reach, his fingers brushed the line of fine little curls by your ear, relishing in your smile at the touch.

"I don't just want you in safe places. I can’t always promise our adventures will grant us ideal jobs," In the dark, you envisioned his solid, pitch black visor giving a barely there shake… "But I want you to feel safe when you're with me."

You turned your head and kissed the palm of it. 

"I do feel safe with you. You'd be the first to know if I wasn’t–NNGH!"

"Be still."

"Shit… m'working on it… this whole thing's new to me, y'know?" Your mouth wandered like your frantic mind, blitzed with stinging pain. "My visor's never shattered like that before," You clenched your fists against the picks made at your browline, "I just fill in the scuffs with some epoxy usually, but it's never broken like that. Frikkin’ hurt."

Mando hummed in sympathy and merely added, "Gotta fit you with some beskar one of these days."

"Oh, sure, for half my year's portion of – nehNGH!"

“Shh, I know. Last bit’s over. Just gonna clean it up before the spray.”

With a water’s dip and wrench out, Mando made a little cleansing exhale before dabbing over the whole area. Didn’t hurt as much of your face other than the center of the wound because of the sedative, but it certainly made your eyes squeeze shut. No worries of opening your eyes for a peek when it stung so badly.

Your gentle angel in beskar whispered a quiet ‘m’sorry’ for the repeated flare of pain. His nervousness was palpable, regardless of how confident he was at this job. A jostle of your leg at calf-height told you he was checking around for dry gauze. 

“Almost done,” he cooed, “You want a break?”

You hummed and gave your pitiful nod to agree. The barest turn of your head caused little pops in it from craning so much. The pressure would take a while to dissipate and you know that when you open your eyes, they’ll be bloodshot. But the pain would be over soon.

Pleased enough to give you a minute, Mando released your chin in favor of brushing another bit of hair back. Due to taking your own helmet on and off so much, the wisps of curls were bouncier than normal like this, with just enough length to give you some fun bangs. You smirked with a tight-lipped smile, as you did not want to bother and pull your cheeks too much. 

It’s kinda beautiful, this. Having this closeness, sharing in a horrible task but in the best of conditions imaginable– being cared for by the one you adored most. Who wouldn’t crave that when it’s what the heart screams for? 

And with this new secret shared between you, this loophole in Din Djarin’s creed… this isn’t a moment you took lightly at all. 

With a little shaky exhale of your own, you searched for his hand again in your bubble of darkness. Now, it met you fully–and linked your fingers together. 

And then, what shocked you the most: steady fingers supported your jaw again, and a slight breeze to cool down your enflamed cheek rushed across your face. 

Din is here. Kneeling before you and blowing on it– just for your comfort. 

You welcomed the cooling flow; your brows showed it. Every ounce of tension left you while dragging heartache into its warm spot. Emotion flooded every corner of the body. It nearly hurt: how it compressed your chest into submission and brought loving tears behind your eyelids.

You didn’t deserve him.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart. Finish line,” he squeezed your hand before lifting it to his lips. He spoke gently to the fingers, "Keep those eyes closed for me."

"Promise." You squeezed them again, bracing yourself for the final burn.

And there it was– freezing and sealing all at once. A white, blinding sensation like what you’d feel from a lightsource turning on overhead, but all over your skin. Each pore was touched by the bacta’s strange magic without warning- and perhaps it was better that way to get it over with. Your breathing raced in that short time until the spray set, but you made sure to mute any noise with angry focus. Fighting the aftertaste, only a small moan eeked from you while the medicine reacted after your nurse had done his job covering the area. Darling thing, he even shielded the mist from getting directly into your eyes. 

Mando's hands left you only to set its things down. This, only in favor, of cupping your face evenly to hold you still when they returned. They warmed what once felt so cold. His forehead met yours in a tender touch as your tears spilled over from the edge of your eyes. Not to worry, for his thumb wiped them up straight away. 

Hair caught in every which way brushed along your slightly damp brow- his. Matched yours, in a way. 

"All done.” his words danced just over your nose, “You can smack me away now, if you want." 

You gave a wet little laugh as you settled into him. Slapping him is unthinkable to you. “Never.”

No, this was a perfect feeling that you’d never wish an end to. His caresses surpassed that of strict medicinal care and turned intimate, rendering your insides limp and on their way to healing already..

The urge to finally cry hit when you parted… when you felt his lips meet your unharmed cheek in a plush, hot kiss.

You whispered in reverence: Din. Desperation for ‘more, please Starborn, more’, an equal measure of shock had you squeezing his wrist, pinning him to you, 

"Should– heh- sh-should you be doing that?"

He kissed you again. Again. Like he’s addicted to the touch, like it’s his favorite vice to pass the time; soft, loose, sighing up to your temple. You know he must be taking in this sight of you now, before the analytics of heat sensors block him from vivid color and dynamic shadows once the helmet returns. 

"Probably not,” he admitted without true remorse– his voice turned soft and delicious, "But I've always wanted to. And right now, I can–" he pulled away at your forehead, "--Should I stop?"

"Oh, please don't stop–"

Your urgency, his delight. Mando chuckled, and kissed your forehead next: with such love from him, you could never doubt it. Enjoy this, honey. Take it all in.

The moment could have lasted forever. You'd about blindfold yourself for the rest of your life, for all you cared. If he just kept kissing you; lower, lower, lower–

–your lips fit against his, and you burst like a case of firewhiskey spirits poured on a flame. It engulfed you both, and he latched on– to burn right there with you. 

Your hands flew to keep him close, fingers finding a hold through the whisps of his hair he kept short that curled in choppy, sweat-licked parts. He sighed so heavenly when you touched him skin to skin. And easy to please, it seems, since he matched you move for move– threading through your feather-soft waves like it was second nature for him to hold you so close. 

Oxygen and a too-full heart demanded you part for a breath, your pulse going rapid fire in your throat. 

“Thank you.”

“Thank me? Thank– I should be thanking you,”  For caring, for the space to exist at his side, to have his loyalty in your back pocket and in your very soul, “For… everything today.”

“Nothing special about that. You thanked me already.” he said so with such frankness. “We have each other’s backs. We’re on each other’s sides. No, this–” 

His shield dropped from your browline, replaced by his whisper over the lid of your eye–

“–this means everything, mesh’la.”

The honesty of this man wrecked you. 

You found yourself pressing your forehead into the space by his neck to hide. Your Mando petted through your hair like a lovestruck man- desperate and wanting and content with every intention to keep you there for the rest of Time. By how this killer matched your breathy giggles, you had a clue that he wouldn't mind that idea. 

"So," you broke the quiet with a small question, "is that what I can expect every time I get a punch to the face?"

Din huffed. 

"You start poking around for trouble, we're going to have an entirely different problem on our hands,” he mumbled back hoarsely, “Don't you dare get any ideas." 

“Even if they get me kisses?”

“Nothing’s worth you getting hurt, cyar’ika,�� those indulgent lips pressed to your hairline before he reached down- to get his helmet. 

At the lean, you panicked a second, and flung back again with a rush for him to wait. 

At your word, he stilled for you to speak your peace. Happy lines greeted your fingertips as you caught the edge of his smile with a blind-man’s reach.

You fought through your elated headspace and begged, "One more?"

Praying to every heaven out there, you were blessed when Din graced your mouth again without any teasing. Kiss after kiss, you melted into each other in this place where nothing hurt– though who did the falling first, you genuinely didn't know. 

Must have been a hell of a numbing wipe. 

After breathless kisses later, stolen tokens as they were, you both felt and heard the Mandalorian shudder and he moan back,

"Gotta stop.." he flipped up the helm with expert precision. It found its home again with only another blip of static when the seal reanimated. "You can open your eyes now."

"Stop…" you managed your beating heart and blinked open your gaze, straight up to the reflected 'T'-shaped gap of his visor. The pupils that looked back at you were straight dilated. You asked out of the haze of your bliss, "Why ‘stop’?"

Still ungloved and with sleeves rolled up, the Mandalorian’s head lolled in a little shake. 

"If I didn't stop right then," Mando caressed your good cheek, "Don't know if I ever would…"

"Would that be the worst?" You hoped for the chance again.

Mando sweetly answered, 

"No.."

It was the kind answer he knew you wanted, to wish for more kisses from you. But he wasn't completely convinced. Not with that lilt in his voice that left a question to be answered. 

He slipped a hand around your waist,

"No, I think.. if I never saw your eyes again, that would be the loss I'd suffer the most.”

Lucidity came back by the moment, your sense of confusion officially returned.

“See me? But you just did, for the first time, right?”

“Couldn’t see those pretty eyes though.”

“Well, tough.” you sassed, “Now you know how I feel.”

You tried to make it sound bossy, but the dig left your mouth too sleepily for him to take it. Behind the metal, his rough rush of static resounded his chuckle.

To further prove the point, you mimic the motion you do for your eye contact removal with a bright, goofy smile,

"It's just retinas, you know,” you shrugged, “Mine don't even work."

"Your loss is my gain, all the same." Mando fell back to only one knee again, to get comfortable at your level. "I'm almost glad we didn’t pass a med droid in town, or else…” he curled an arm around you again, “--this might not have happened any other way. I count your poor excuse for headgear as my blessing this time."

You glanced at what was left of your helmet, but fell into good humor with his warmth bringing you close again.

“You’ll be all too glad to see me walking around a beskar cyclehelm, won’t you? Gonna take a while to find that much to make one, if you’re serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” the helmet nodded, chipping your chin for a moment, “But we’ll manage until we source it. Always do.”

You’re still reeling over this; over what this means, him offering you the most prized form of protection. To give you comfort by shedding down to his most vulnerable state. The complete faith he has in you by doing so... It gave your nervous anxieties ballasts on all sides. 

You’d keep your wits about you better next go round, so this doesn’t happen again… but you knew the word ‘partnership’ had a different meaning between you, from this night onward.

Din continued past your mind’s lovely spiral, 

“You won’t need to worry about finding a better replacement before we head to Bespin with this package; we'll just let you heal. No sense pushing it.”

"Probably for the best, yeah," you nuzzled back, "I clearly have issues keeping a helmet on my head as it is."

The helmet giving you a kiss of its own shook side to side. That gesture all but begged ‘what am I going to do with you’.

"So we stick in our lanes for now?” you whispered your hope, “...Try my luck and steal chances whenever I can?"

Instead of a quick nod, the man who’d just kissed you senseless gave you a promise again,

"We can work something out."

[duckiemimi]

how certain are you about gojo not being dead or his revival? do you think gege might bring him back? some buddhist revival theories make sense to me but if the main problem is that gege just wanted him gone for the plot to progress then nothing is bringing him back. i also see that a majority of people are now praising the chapter when i'm still not happy about it so it might even give the impression that the chapter is well received....

i’m not certain at all because i can’t even tell what we’re working towards plot-wise 😭

before 237, i was 50/50 about it. it could either happen because his “death” just seemed so lackluster and lacking something (a lot of things) that there might be more to come, especially knowing how capable gege was at wonderfully handling death as a subject, but it could also not happen because gojo wasn’t even given the grace of an on-screen development from his unsealing to his death. (i talk about this more here.) after 237? if he’s only going to come back as a convenient plot-device, i’d rather he stay dead.

i honestly think gege killed him off to write him out of the story because nothing is indicating to me that there’s more to what we saw in 236. not even a mention, not even a scribble of his body in the battlefield in 237. (but i don’t know. prove me wrong, gege.) 236 would’ve worked if the gojo vs. sukuna battle was a short story separate from the overarching storyline, separate from jjk in general, and instead of gojo and sukuna, they were both new characters that we got a brief rundown of prior to the battle. but like everything is, the story should be bigger than them both and the battle. 236 and the battle should fit in with everything else, even the very edges of where we started.

there’s this habit in fandoms (but especially in the jjk fandom) of retroactively justifying (and subsequently, plainly accepting) chapters/plot points that weren’t initially well-received. it’s crazy because when 236 came out, the only people praising the chapter were sukuna stans and people who heavily favor the technical side of jjk more than the narrative (and some shippers who’ve lost the actual plot long before, but what’s new).

a week later, there are all these discussions saying, “well, maybe we just didn’t get gojo’s character,” or, “well, actually it’s in-character of him.” it shouldn’t have to take a week for part of the fandom to reluctantly accept what was written. hindsight nuance is supposed to add another level of understanding, not change the whole perspective. this isn’t a case of an author withholding information to keep readers on their toes, this is a case of an author not being consistent in characterization (among other things).

we keep trying to piece mismatched puzzle pieces for it to make sense, but we’re in the long run now! the bigger picture (including gojo’s character) should be clearer than before! why are we left more confused now than before, and so close to the end of the story, too? if the majority of the fandom is confused (all of us, honestly, don’t lie), the problem isn’t us not understanding—the problem is the goddamn writing.

“let them cook!” yeah, but if you leave the fire on too long, the food burns. then the kitchen catches fire. then the house is in shambles. it’s okay to admit that the story we once knew is no longer the same. it sucks, but it really is okay to dislike a chapter and be disappointed with an author. and it’s okay to take your time grieving what you once knew (hell, it’s why i’m talking more on this app these days). and it’s okay to keep reading and following along because you still have hope.

the way i talk about this, you’d think the whole fandom is in a relationship with gege and gege just keeps negging us 😭 some people have faith, despite the downhill track record, some people are pissed and feeling cheated, and some don’t even know what to think. coping is different :’)

[mosneakers]

Lily extends a comforting offer to make tea, a welcoming gesture to warm everyone up after coming in from the cold. While she does that, Montgomery, the composed alpha, invites the Darlings to gather in the Living Room for a chat.

Montgomery: Well, Donna, this is a reunion I didn't anticipate in this lifetime. All this time has passed. You're still just as radiant as I remember, by the way.

Brick: Ay... obviously. We all got eyes, buddy. Keep it pushin'.

Donna: Brick. [Polite smile] Thank you, Montgomery. I appreciate the compliment.

Montgomery: Mr. Darling, I'd like to express my gratitude, if I may. You have stepped up where I fell short. Brick has shared stories about your family, and your other children. It's clear you've given them the life they deserve.

Yellow: Please, feel free to call me Yellow. Our children are the most precious parts of our lives. But I couldn't have done it without this angel right here.

The Darlings jump as the front door bursts open, allowing a flurry of cold air to swirl into the house.

Roxanne: Man, it's colder than a vampire's left nut out there!

Brick turned around and waved. Brick: Hey Rox. Welcome back.

Roxanne: Hey kiddo! How's it shakin'?

Roxanne hands Lily over a large bag filled with fresh meat from her recent hunt, and begins to remove layers of outerwear. Roxanne: That's for you, darlin'. Enjoy it while it's still warm. [Grins] Lily: [Smiles] Oh, thank you sweetie! I'm getting too old to hunt in the winter anymore. I'll go put this away for later. Montgomery: That's Roxanne. Roxanne: That's me, his main squeeze for the moment. [Chuckles]

Roxanne plops down on Montgomery's lap, and formally introduces herself to Donna and Yellow, then gives them a brief rundown on werewolf culture and the ways of the Collective.

Yellow: So Montgomery, you're sitting before us right now. How is this possible? Donna and I assumed you were gone all those years ago. Montgomery: In brief, I discovered that I've actually been a descendant of werewolves all along. The trait was dormant until that fateful day. The previous alpha, a mooncaster, was searching for descendants to build a strong pack. He found me and brought me back, introducing me to Lycanthropy. I've never felt more free.

Roxanne: Brick knows that feeling, don'tcha kid?

Montgomery: It's in his blood. He's an excellent wolf, a valuable asset to our pack. But, I'll be frank with you, Donna. The boy lacks discipline. He has no respect for his elders.

Donna: Well that's not true. Brick has made mistakes, but he's always been a well-mannered young man. Perhaps you've yet to get to truly know him; he's used to having a big support system.

Yellow: Speaking of support systems, Montgomery, in your expert werewolf opinion, do you think Brick is ready to safely reunite with his children? They need him just as much as he needs them.

Montgomery pauses, contemplating, as Lily chimes in.

Lily: In our pack, we have Little Jak, whom I've raised from a pup. Much like your connection with Brick, Yellow, I see Jak as my own. Brick is good with him.

Donna warmly thanks Lily for her input and glances at Montgomery and Roxanne, who both nod in agreement.

Montgomery: Well that settles it. For short periods of time only, Brick will be permitted to take trips to Brindleton Bay to visit his kids. But while he's away, I'll require frequent communication with the two of you.

[yeehaw-in-magic-space]

Campaign and Characters: Basic Rundown

(The campaign I’ll be posting about here is a space western with heavy fantasy and horror elements. It draws quite a bit from some of my favorite things including The Locked Tomb, Star Wars, Darkest Dungeon, Cowboy Bebop, and some other cowboy themed D&D stuff I've run in the past)

The campaign starts 3 years after a massive crisis of succession that accidentally fused four different wars into one galaxy wide conflict. After over 30 years of fighting, a new Sovereign of the Galactic Kingdom has been named, and people are trying to pick up the pieces of their scattered lives. This has led a lot of people to flee towards the frontier worlds in an attempt to make their fortune and free themselves from the burdens of living under the various Dukes and Counts that hold dominion over their solar systems (though most fall immediately into the hands of outlaws who treat themselves as monarchs). It’s a mix between the energy of scrappy space cowboys, noble fantasy houses, and a horrifying galaxy filled with undead abominations (at least, according to rumors).  

Our protagonists are a cluster of drifters and runaways who for one reason or another find themselves on an interstellar train that will take them to the edge of "civilized society", which is where they run into each other and experience the first rumbles of the hauntings and horrors that lie beyond what the Galactic Kingdom has managed to conquer. I have 4 players in this game whose characters I'll give a brief description of below:

Dolly (she/her): Dolly is a disgraced reporter who once captured the events of the war and rooted out corruption wherever she found it. Eventually, she poked a little too hard at a cluster of powerful nobles, and a scandal broke about her selling information (and having intimate relations with) some of the outlaw leaders at the edges of the galaxy. She now takes jobs from "Choice Information" a trashy tabloid that has her basically writing buzzfeed style articles and doing vapid interviews for upstart bounty hunters. They give her lackluster information and sexy costumes to wear to every interview. She is a Human Inquisitive Rogue.

Chuck (he/him): Ch’k T’k, nicknamed Chuck, is a bounty hunter who takes any odd job he can find. He’s an expert tinkerer, fast with his shooting hand (which is helped by him having four of them), and is never seen without his Automaton companion, MAC. He does his best to keep a low profile and take jobs that will be easy money without gaining too much attention from the authorities or high profile outlaws, but he seems to have a bad habit of being dragged in over his head and finding dangerous gigs. He is a Thri-Kreen Battlesmith Artificer.

Geraldine (she/her): Geraldine is a wide-eyed debutant from a new money family. Her family didn’t make as much money as they were hoping to selling weapons and supplies during the war, and their lack of progress left her with a lot of free time on her hands. She used this free time to perfect her shooting at the local range, and to indulge in romantic novels that paint pictures of love, lust, and adventure in the frontier worlds. She decided that she dreamed of writing a story of her own, and wandered off to the nearest train station to find a crew to take her on an adventure. She is a Human Battle Master Fighter.   

Prometheus (he/it): Prometheus is a mysterious con artist, and is visibly the most cursed gothic man ever conceived of (though he really doesn’t seem to notice). He is fleeing to the edge of the galaxy, and scamming as many people as he can along the way. He slings snake oil potions, certificates for distant stars, and shockingly openly brandishes eldritch magic when the situation calls for it. Prometheus is a fellow with an untrustworthy face, but a shockingly smooth tongue to compensate. He’s wandering further and further into the galaxy for reasons that perhaps aren’t clear to most, or maybe even to him. He is a Human Great Old One Warlock.

This is our primary cast and crew, and soon I'll be diving into how they met and the shenanigans they got up to during our first session.

[dis0rderly-cl0wn-nerd]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Six - Injury

Warnings: Blood, gore

Chapter Summary: A surprise attack leaves Jack injured.

Author's Note: This is the chapter people! This is where things start to take a turn! We are finally getting to the part I actually want to write lol. I've managed to post 3 chapters this month. This is a huge win 🙌 But seriously, buckle in, this is a rough one. My poor Jack 😔

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie @furisodespirit

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know! <3

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Jack gazed out the window at the vast desert sands with a mix of dread and disdain. As much as he hated this place, there was a familiarity to it and a feeling of…fondness? No, that wasn’t it. More like a fondness towards the few good memories that this desert held but a bitterness at all the bad. 

This was Jack’s third tour in Afghanistan. Now holding the rank of Sergeant, he and another sergeant would be assisting their staff sergeant in leading a squad. This would be the first time he ever had any leadership so it did make him a bit nervous.

The platoon had just arrived at the base yesterday. In a few minutes they would be meeting to discuss objectives and meet with their squads. Stepping away from the window and collecting himself, Jack headed towards the back of the base where everyone else was. He did not need to be late. He hated getting fussed at.

After the higher ups gave a brief rundown of everything going on at the base and elsewhere, the squads met up. Jack didn’t speak much. He of course addressed the staff sergeant over him because he had to but he wasn't compelled to talk to the others. He gave a nod of acknowledgement here and there but nothing more. It wasn’t that he was annoyed or didn’t like them. He just never was a people person.

The other sergeant in his squad that he would be working with approached Jack. He stuck his hand out for him to shake and introduced himself. 

“I’m Corey Davis.”

Jack shook his hand firmly. “Jack Napier. Nice to meet you.” 

Davis smiled and moved on to talk to the other members of their squad. Jack observed him warily from afar. Davis had dark hair, a mustache, and light eyes. He was shorter than Jack but was well built and wiry. His demeanor seemed very friendly and sociable.

Great. Jack thought. 

There was something about outgoing people that bothered him. Maybe because they made his quiet, reserved self uncomfortable. Whatever the reason, he wasn’t sure if he would get along with this Davis fellow.

Boy was he wrong. After a few days of getting to know each other, they found that they had a lot in common. It turned out Davis lived an hour away from where Jack did. They both grew up in a small town. They both skateboarded. They both had similar tastes in music. Needless to say, they quickly became close. It was like they had known each other their whole lives. They worked great together, allowing their squad to operate like a well oiled machine.

Even several months into the deployment the squad rarely ran into problems. So far this was turning out to be the best of Jack’s three tours. Sure there was the immense heat and the horror of war but that was given at this point. Now that he had someone to go through it with, it wasn’t as bad. 

But just like previous deployments, everything could change in the blink of an eye. 

…

Today they were traveling through dangerous enemy territory so they had to be cautious. Two squads went one route and another two went the other route. According to intel, aggressors wouldn’t be anywhere near them. As long as they moved quickly and stealthily, they would be fine. 

Jack sat on one side of the humvee and Davis sat on the other. The driver and the staff sergeant were up front. Three other men were in the very back. The second vehicle was trailing along beside them.

So far the intel seemed to be accurate. The area was completely desolate. 

“Smooth sailing, huh? Man, it’s been quiet today.” Davis chuckled.

“A little too quiet.” Jack muttered. 

“Come on, Napier. Intel says we’re good. Ain’t nobody gonna bother us. We haven’t seen anything all day.”

“We still don’t need to let our guards down. This is dangerous territory, Davis.” The staff sergeant scolded from the front.

“Pshh. Why? God, this is boring.” A guy in the back whispered to another.

Jack heard and cast him a sideways glance. Just as he turned back around to face the front, it happened. Something hit the front end of the humvee and after a loud boom, it went up in smoke. The blast killed the staff sergeant and the driver, causing the vehicle to veer out of control and then stop abruptly. 

The smoke billowed inside the humvee and the fire was starting to spread. The men in the back turned to Jack and Davis. The two sergeants were left in charge now. They were speechless for a brief moment, unsure what to do. Then out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw another explosive flying right towards them.

“Get out of here! Now!” He shouted. 

He’d never opened a vehicle's door so fast in his life. He, Davis, and another man managed to get out in time. The other two were trapped in the back. There was no time to go back for them.

Jack ran with all the speed he could muster. It wasn’t enough. The vehicle exploded behind him, spewing shrapnel everywhere. A sharp chunk flew straight into Jack’s left cheek and lodged itself there. He screamed in pain and fell face first into the sand. Some glass from the humvee’s windshield strewn across the ground sliced his bottom lip. 

He found the strength to sit up a little and for a few seconds, he just knelt there in shock, clutching his injured cheek as blood poured down his face. Panic started to seep in and it made him forget everything. Where he was, that they were under fire, and that he had to run. Now. His brain didn’t seem to register that.

His saving grace came when Davis ran to his side and helped him up. 

“Jack! Snap out of it. We gotta go. Come on. We’re gonna make it.” 

Jack jolted as he finally came to and followed Davis. They ran to the remaining vehicle as they made their way to safety. Once everyone left alive was in, the vehicle sped off, fleeing the scene like a bat out of hell. 

Davis ushered Jack towards the back of the vehicle where the medics were. Jack was wincing in pain. He felt dizzy and struggled to walk without leaning on Davis’ shoulder. The other soldiers stared at the gory sight in horror. There was literally a huge piece of metal sticking out of the young sergeant’s face. 

The two medics laid Jack on the floor and removed his gear, tossing it aside. Meanwhile, Jack felt like he was drowning in his own blood. He groaned and gripped the metal bars on the seats nearby tightly. His face burned with more intensity than the heat of the Afghan deserts. Out of all the pain his father put him through, nothing came close to what he was experiencing right now. 

The medics assessed the wound and decided what needed to be done. They tugged on the metal to see if they could get it to move. It wouldn’t budge. Jack yelped at the sudden sharp pain. 

“It looks like we can’t just pull it out, sarge. We’re gonna have to cut it out and stitch up the wound.” One medic explained as he took out his tools.

Jack grimaced but nodded faintly in understanding. Anything to get it out. 

The medic began cutting with a scalpel as the other held Jack’s head still. Jack fought the urge to scream and groaned loudly instead. Each cut felt like fire. It was agonizing. He breathed in and out sharply, sounding like he was hyperventilating.

Finally the medic managed to get the metal out. Blood was splattered everywhere at this point. It was dripping from Jack’s chin down his shirt. As he took in a breath, he choked on the blood in his mouth. He rose up a little as a coughing fit ensued, spitting out blood onto the floor. 

The medics eased him back down and wiped away the excess blood so they could suture the wound. Jack saw the needle and braced himself. This would definitely be the most painful part. Especially since his face was not numb in any way. 

The first stitch was put in, causing him to cry out. He wasn’t expecting it to hurt that bad. He closed his eyes and tried not to cry but it was no use. The medic continued stitching as Jack whimpered and grunted in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks. His tough exterior had completely left the building.

“Last one.” The medic said as he put in the remaining stitch.

He cut the remaining thread and put the supplies away while the other medic picked the glass out of Jack’s lower lip and then wiped his bloody face with a cloth. The first medic grabbed a bottle of pills and a canteen from his bag. He shook two pills out into his hand. 

“Take these. It’ll help with the pain.” He instructed Jack as he handed him the pills and the canteen.

Cringing at the metallic taste of blood lingering in his mouth, Jack took a swig of the water and swallowed the pills. The two medics left him alone and moved to the front of the vehicle to make sure no one else was injured. 

Jack rested his head on his gear and turned onto his side, curling up into a ball. The burning in his cheek slowly began to fade out as the medicine started to take effect. He was so dizzy and disoriented from the shock and blood loss, he could barely keep his eyes open. Before he knew it, he was falling asleep. 

He woke up some time later and groaned softly at the shooting pain returning to his face. He groggily sat up and looked around. It was dark inside and outside the vehicle. Davis was sitting nearby. He noticed Jack get up and turned to him with a concerned look in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” 

“I guess so…” Jack mumbled. 

“We’re still an hour or so away from base. You should go back to sleep.” 

“Can’t. I’m already up.” 

Davis shook his head and held up his canteen. “You want some water?” 

“I have some.”

“But you’re running low. You need to save it. Just take some of mine.” 

Jack sighed and took the canteen from him. He took a few sips and then handed it back, relieved to have something to rinse his mouth. He knew he’d be tasting blood for weeks.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Davis asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine. But it really hurts to talk.” 

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll shut up then.” 

Jack smirked and took another sip of water. He laid back down again and reluctantly ran his hand over the wound. It felt puffy, hot, and swollen. Pain shot up his cheek as his fingertips grazed it. He just knew this was going to leave a scar.

His mind raced with questions. What would it look like? Would it be noticeable? Would this affect his mouth or how he ate? Should he see the doctor on base?

He sighed and decided to take Davis’ advice. This was a lot. He really needed to rest. He could process this later. 

Jack turned on his side and resumed his sleeping position. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, listening to the steady hum of the humvee’s engine and the beating of his own heart. It helped lull him back to sleep. The pain and the worry slowly drifted away. 

Sleep was awesome when he could get it. Most nights were a challenge for Jack. Lots of things kept him awake. Memories, nightmares, adrenaline… Something told him that from now on he was going to have a lot more of those sleepless nights.

[cadybear420]

Cadybear's MCs: The Ultimate Crash Course Masterlist (NOTE: List is subject to frequent updates)

REPOSTING BECAUSE I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE OLD ONE WHEN I WAS MEANING TO EDIT IT!!!!

Inspired by the MC Masterlists made by @aria-ashryver and @rosesnink. This list will include a brief rundown of each of my MCs, listed in alphabetical order by book/series. A link to each MC's profile will be provided if said profile exists. Or, at the very least, a link to an image of the MC's sprite will be provided.

Notes:

Some books will have multiple MCs that I make for them. And some books won't have any MCs. And some MCs will be incomplete WIPs.

MCs deemed as more "complete" or "official" characters– meaning, I have a committed appearance and enough details for them– will have their titles in the "Quote" text font.

MCs where the link only shows a sprite image will be marked with 🖼️

MCs where the link is to a brief crash course profile will be marked with 📄

MCs where the link is to a very detailed and extensive profile will be maked with 📕

For a masterlist more focused on the specific couples I have, see here.

Anthology Profiles: AKA Singular Profile Braindump Posts for the Series that go through different MCs (eg. HSS, ILS, Untameable, RWB)

[WIP] High School Story Franchise, Series 1: Jordan Price (Prime), Evie Ayana (OG Trilogy), Cher Lee (Class Act)

[WIP] Hollywood U/Red Carpet Diaries

It Lives Anthology, Series 1: Jo Hunter (Woods), Harper Addison Vance-Fisher (Beneath), Cedric Zhao (Within)

Untameable/Unbridled Anthology

With Benefits Anthology

Across The Void: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the book twice, but not with this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Either Sol, Zekei, or Meridian

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Across The Void: Jax Elara

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the book twice, but not with this official MC

Birthday: August 27, whatever year this story takes place in.

Gender: Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: Caucasian/White Cyber

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Kepler

Endgame LI Headcanon: Kepler

Additional Notes: [Pending]

All Of Us (His Story + Her Story)

Unfortunately a fair amount of the assets look AI generated, so I'm probably not going to play either versions of this. PB did these ones dirty.

Along Came Treble

I haven't played it yet, but it doesn't seem interesting enough for me to make a MC for. But hey, maybe that opinion will change.

Alpha: Charlie [Last Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: Haven't played yet

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: Caucasian/White

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Channing Lowe (Female, East Asian)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Channing, Lupe, and Kala

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Alpha: Tallulah [Last Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: Haven't played yet

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Indian (Brown/Hispanic sprite)

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Channing Lowe (male, race pending)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Asher

Additional Notes: [Pending]

America's Most Eligible: Jamie MacLeod-Noor 🖼️

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the series once, but not with this official MC

Birthday: July 14, 1993 (approximately 24-25 by the start of the story

Gender: Genderqueer Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Indian-Scottish (Brown/Hispanic sprite)

Sexuality: Bi with a male preference

In-Game LI Pursued: Either Adam McIntyre/Handsome Stranger, Derek Taylor, or Jen Espinoza; possibly only to dump them at the wedding for Slater Dominguez

Endgame LI Headcanon: She actually ditches her fiancee at the altar to marry her true love Carson Stewart, while maybe also having a queerplatonic relationship with Jen Espinoza and Wrenn

Additional Notes: Takes on a "villain" persona in the game

America's Most Eligible: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the series once, but not with this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Man [he/him]

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Either MacKenzie Harris (race pending) or Jen Espinoza

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: Takes on a "flirt" persona in the game

A Very Scandalous Proposal

This story was a mess and the book bored the shit out of me. Next.

Baby Bump: Jayden Cassidy 🖼️

Book Playthrough Status: I've completed a playthrough recently, but not using my official MC

Birthday: March 16, 1994 (approximately 26-27 in the story's timeline)

Gender: Genderfluid Bigender (she/her/he/him)

Ethnicity: [Pending] (East Asian sprite)

Sexuality: Bi

In-Game LI Pursued: Myra Dixon

Endgame LI Headcanon: Myra Dixon

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Bachelorette Party: [Name Still Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: Completed

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: East Asian

Sexuality: Heteroflexible

In-Game LI Pursued: Reed Hanson, Ash Tanaka, and Aisha Bhatt

Endgame LI Headcanon: Mostly still pending, but she does start a queerplatonic relationship with Aisha

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Big Sky Country

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

The Billionaire's Baby: Alyssa Larson

Book Playthrough Status: Completed.

Birthday: Who the fuck cares

Gender: Cis woman (she/hers)

Ethnicity: IDFK White I guess

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Cole Stone (Native American version)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Ignore what the canon says. She and Cole break up by the end of the book.

Additional Notes: This book is ranked in fourth place on my permanent choices shitlist. I've made this MC for the sole purpose of having a headcanon where the baby gets rescued from these awful people and then adopted by Evie and Aiden (baby's name is still pending). However, I do have some ideas for what could have been for this book, so I might end up making a MC for an AU based around those ideas. We'll see.

Bitten

AI generated cover. Pass.

Blades of Light and Shadow: Rosette

Book Playthrough Status: I've played Book 1 twice, but not with this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: GNC Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: Human, intraspecies race pending

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Imtura, will maybe have some relationship with Valax too

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Blades of Light and Shadow: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played Book 1 twice, but not with this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (he/him)

Ethnicity: Blueish-Green Orc

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Either Mal or Tyril, most likely Mal. Maybe a little bit of relationship with Aerin too.

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Bloodbound: Jasmine Yin 🖼️

Book Playthrough Status: Just started a playthrough for this MC

Birthday: February 26, 1988 (approximately 30 in the story's timeline)

Gender: Trans Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Chinese American

Sexuality: This is Bloodbound. You already know the answer to that.

In-Game LI Pursued: Adrian Raines (white version), Jax Matsuo, Kamilah Sayeed, possibly Lily Spencer too.

Endgame LI Headcanon: All of them. Who I choose to have her be closest with in the game and in headcanons is still pending.

Additional Notes: Jax died in my playthrough, this may or may not change when I do an official Jasmine playthrough. I might also change it in my headcanons such that Adrian is the one who sacrifices himself for MC because why were only Jax and Lily eligible for that? Stupid.

Crimes of Passion: Rosalie Rose

Book Playthrough Status: I've played Book 1 once, but not with this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: [Pending]

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: Bi

In-Game LI Pursued: [Pending]

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: Haha I chose a rose-based name as the first name to the MC with the default last name Rose. Eye think eye am funni

The Crown and The Flame

The MCs in this book are not customizable in any way.

A Courtesan of Rome

I liked this book, but I don't have a lot of ideas for a MC. Maybe that will change.

The Cursed Heart: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played Book 1 once, but not with this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: East Asian (East Asian sprite) (Specific ethnicity pending)

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Kieran (female version, race still pending)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Kieran

Additional Notes: [Pending]

The Deadliest Game

This books seems like such a breath of fresh air. But I'm also just hesitant to play the stories that have blatant use of AI generated content. Seriously, the cover is just grotesque.

Desire and Decorum

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Dirty Little Secrets: Dick Ryder 📄

Book Playthrough Status: Currently in progress

Birthday: June 9, 1993 (approximately 30 in the story's timeline)

Gender: Genderqueer Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: Korean (East Asian sprite)

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Peg King (Hispanic Charlotte King)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Marries Peg King and becomes the proud (step)-father to Yvette. Thereby making him a DILF.

Additional Notes: His former name is "Gabriel Cho". He's trained in acting and an aspiring pornstar. Once he did get a job at a porn studio, but it quickly went to shit. Let's just say, they didn't respect his sexual boundaries/preferences. After getting the fuck outta dodge, he took on the name "Dick Ryder" in order to own his sexuality. "Peg King" on the other hand is her original name tho (or is it...).

Distant Shores

I wanted to like this one. Maybe I'll like it more when I give it a replay.

The Duchess Affair

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book. It's definitely gonna be sapphic.

The Elementalists: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: Haven't played it yet

Birthday: Born in the year 2000 (approximately 18 in the story's timeline)

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Either Griffin or Beckett

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Endless Summer: Emilia Harris

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the series once, but not quite with this official MC

Birthday: [pending]

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: I might have her romance Jake McKenzie for a bit

Endgame LI Headcanon: I think she'd like Jake McKenzie, but not enough for a committed romance. Her true love is Raj Bhandarkar, who absolutely should be a LI. But it won't last because I'm probably gonna choose the Vaanu ending for her.

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Endless Summer: BJ Kingsley

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the series once, but not quite with this official MC

Birthday: [pending]

Gender: Cis Man (she/her)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Estela Montoya

Endgame LI Headcanon: He becomes handfasted with Estela, and they likely stay together because he chooses either the Endless or the Rourke ending.

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Filthy Rich

This book is clearly just Untameable: Billionaire Edition. And I'm sure I've already made it very clear how much I hate Untameable. Also it almost certainly has an AI-generated cover.

First Comes Love

This book is ranked in second place on my permanent choices shitlist. But I might also wanna make a MC for the sole purpose of making a headcanon where she and Blake break up MC is disowned by all her friends for being a FemCeL while Rebecca is welcomed into the friends group. We'll see.

Foreign Affairs

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

The Freshman Series: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: Haven't played it yet

Birthday: Born in 1998 (approximately 18 at the start of the story)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: East Asian

Sexuality: Bi

In-Game LI Pursued: [Pending]

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Getaway Girls

I'm looking forward to playing this one and making the MC for it. But I don't have a lot of ideas. So I'm gonna play the book first and then come up with the MC as I go along.

The Ghost of Us

I wanna make an official MC of this book solely so I can make Ghost (1990) references. But I can't decide whether to base her off of Molly Jensen or Oda Mae Brown. I decided to mix up the names and consider "Molly Brown" and "Oda Mae Jensen" as my options, and the masses seem to favor the latter.

Guarded

This book looks like it's just Witness and RCD made a baby. I might play it, but I have zero interest in making a MC for it. Or maybe I'll make a male MC. We'll see.

Guinevere

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book. Probably gonna have male Arthur and female Lancelot tho.

The Haunting of Braidwood Manor: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played this about 4 times, but none of which have this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: Bi

In-Game LI Pursued: Eleanor Waverly (but I might have her flirt with Victor a bit too)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Eleanor Waverly

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Hearts on Fire

This book's actual premise was such a disappointment. Of fucking course we have to be a newbie firefighter and of fucking course the LI is our boss and of fucking course the LI saves the MC. I might still play a mlw route though. Then again, those bomber jackets might have been AI generated.

The Heist: Monaco: Otto

Book Playthrough Status: Currently in progress

Birthday: July 27, 1994 (approximately 25 during the story's timeline)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman

Ethnicity: Indian (Brown/Hispanic Sprite)

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Possibly Rye

Endgame LI Headcanon: She has very intense hate sex with Ansel Crane, but who she has as an actual official lover is still pending. It might be Rye.

Additional Notes: The name "Otto" is a cover name. She picked it because she loves the movie "A Fish Called Wanda" and Otto is her favorite character from that movie. Her real name is classified. Also she's Evie's estranged Aunt on her mom's side.

The Heist Monaco: Bill

Book Playthrough Status: Waiting for Otto's playthrough to be completed first

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: GNC Cis Man

Ethnicity: East Asian-European

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Eris Huang

Endgame LI Headcanon: Eris Huang

Additional Notes: The name "Bill" is a cover name. His real name is classified.

Hero: [Official Name and Superhero Name Both Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the book once, but not with this MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Woman (she/hers)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: She likes both Grayson Prescott and Kenji Katsaros, but will probably mainly pursue Grayson

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: She has a huge special interest in MHA, and will probably pick her superhero name based off of All Might.

High School Story Prime Mobile Game: Jordan Price

Game Playthrough Status: Currently in progress. I might restart with an APK modded version in order for a more complete and thorough playthrough (some quests got nerfed after the shutdown in August 2022 + the game would probably be much better to play with infinite rings mod). As of now I'm kinda just following the book club that the HSS Prime subreddit is doing and using the plot summaries and question prompts to build Jorda

Birthday: April 21, 1998 (approximately 14 at the start of the game)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman

Ethnicity: Black-Indian

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Has a relationship with a prep boy named Daniel

Endgame LI Headcanon: Her relationship with Daniel does not last, as he eventually moves away. She gets with Julian Castillo during the OG HSS Trilogy timeline.

Additional Notes: Part of the "Nerd" clique.

High School Story OG Trilogy: Evie Ayana 📕 (My main flagship MC! <3 )

Book Playthrough Status: Multiple playthroughs completed, with possibly more pending to help flesh out her character better.

Birthday: March 8, 2001 (approximately 16-17 during the OG HSS story and 17-18 during HSS:CA)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Indian with some European and possibly Turkish heritage (Brown/Hispanic sprite)

Sexuality: Bi with a male preference

In-Game LI Pursued: Aiden Zhou

Endgame LI Headcanon: Marries Aiden Zhou post series, they have an open marriage.

Additional Notes: Jock in all three books; Is fairly experienced at football, very experienced at basketball, and a newbie to baseball. She is also very experienced in running.

High School Story OG Trilogy: Alan Parke

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but at least one more playthrough is needed.

Birthday: May 20, 2001 (approximately 16-17 during the OG HSS story and 17-18 during HSS:CA)

Gender: GNC Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: East Asian-European (Caucasian sprite)

Sexuality: Heteroflexible Sexually + Heteroromantic

In-Game LI Pursued: Currently having him romance Emma Hawkins, but I also plan to do a Maria route for him at some point. I'll figure out who he has the most chemistry with.

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: Cheerleader in all three books; has been doing cheer, dance, and gymnastics from a very young age.

High School Story OG Trilogy: Violet Jones

Book Playthrough Status: Waiting for current playthrough to finish

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Black/African-American

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Michael Harrison

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: Jock in all three books, but she's very inexperienced with sports. I'm considering the idea of her being a guitarist but I'm not sure.

High School Story OG Trilogy: Samara Al Hakim

Book Playthrough Status: Currently in-progress.

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Lebanese (Caucasian sprite)

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Caleb Mitchell

Endgame LI Headcanon: I'll probably have her and Caleb get married

Additional Notes: Jock in all three books, but she's inexperienced in most of it. Her athletic talents lie primarily in wrestling. Also her romance with Caleb is a slow burn. `

High School Story: Class Act: Cher Lee

Book Playthrough Status: A playthrough has been done for her, but a more focused one is still pending.

Birthday: January 12, 2004

Gender: Gender-Creative Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: White European

Sexuality: Bi-curious wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Ajay Bhandari

Endgame LI Headcanon: She and Ajay Bhandari might break up at some point during her sophomore year, but then might also reunite years later older and wiser and get married.

Additional Notes: Her twin brother is named Bear Lee, and he is a trans man (he/him).

High School Story: Class Act: [Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: Waiting until Cher's playthrough is completed.

Birthday: January 12, 2004

Gender: Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: I hope to try routes for both Rory Silva (female version, race still pending) and Skye Crandall.

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: Twin sister's name is still pending.

Hollywood U Mobile Game: Bailey [Last Name Pending]

Game Playthrough Status: On indefinite hiatus, due to the game's shutdown in August 2022. At some point, I hope to try one of those APK modded versions.

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: [Pending]

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: [Pending]

In-Game LI Pursued: [Pending]

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Home for the Holidays

I liked this book, but I don't have a lot of ideas for my MC's character. I might return to this after a replay.

Hot Couture

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Hot Shot

100% sure that cover is AI generated. Also I have a feeling that the "I don't want to play books that use AI generated content" is gonna bite me in the ass one way or another.

Immortal Desires: Sam [Last Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the book once, but I have yet to do an official playthrough for it

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Male (he/him)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: This is a vampire story in Choices. What do you think his sexuality is?

In-Game LI Pursued: Gabriela Adalhard (Native American version) and Cassie Harlow (Black version)

Endgame LI Headcanon: He and Gabe and Cas have a three-way relationship with each other

Additional Notes: Naming the MC "Sam" in the book with "Desire" in the title is pure coincidence, I assure you. I just really like the name Sam.

It Lives in the Woods: Jo Hunter 📄

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, and a second playthrough is currently in progress.

Birthday: April 22, 1999 (18 during the ILITW timeline, approximately 21-22 during the ILB and ILW timelines)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/hers)

Ethnicity: Chinese (East Asian sprite)

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Lucas Thomas, but I'm currently doing an Andy route. In both the Lucas and Andy routes, she does flirt with both of them and Connor Green as well.

Endgame LI Headcanon: Marries Lucas Thomas, but I might eventually change it into a three-way relationship that includes Andy Kang

Additional Notes: She and all of her friends survive Redfield/Jane's game. She chooses to let Noah become the monster.

It Lives Beneath: Harper Addison Vance-Fisher 📄

Book Playthrough Status: Completed

Birthday: July 12, 1998 (approximately 19 during the ILITW timeline, 21-22 during the ILB timeline, and 22 during the ILW timeline)

Gender: Genderfluid Demigirl (she/her/they/them, but is sometimes okay with he/him)

Ethnicity: Still pending (Brown/Hispanic sprite), though I headcanon she has some Jewish/Hebrew heritage and her step-dad is Jewish/Hebrew

Sexuality: Bi-curious wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Mainly Tom Sato, but they also feel attraction for Parker Shaw and Imogen Wescott

Endgame LI Headcanon: She and Tom Sato eventually move in together and become the proud parents of the giant teddy bear named Boo-Boo that she won for Tom

Additional Notes: She and all of her friends and her grandpa all survive by the end.

It Lives Within Fanproject: Cedric Zhao 📄*

*(Has a brief crash-course profile, but it's more of a placeholder that might need revising later)

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but a couple of other playthroughs are pending

Birthday: October 4 (unsure about the year and age, I'll have to review the ILW timeline later)

Gender: GNC Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: Chinese (East Asian sprite)

Sexuality: Heteroflexible and Polyamorous

In-Game LI Pursued: Jocelyn Wu, but I plan to do a playthrough where he romances Amalia de Leon

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: He takes on a mostly genuine personality with a side of sarcasm. He mainly follows the Blood route, having some interest in learning the source of his power, but ultimately wanting to live his normal life. In my first playthrough, he got stabbed by Mattyass and died, but I hope to get a better outcome for him in a replay.

Kindred

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Kiss of Death

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Laws of Attraction: Anjali [Last Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: I've played the series once, but not with this official MC

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Indian (Brown/Hispanic sprite)

Sexuality: Bi with a male preference

In-Game LI Pursued: She likes both Gabe Ricci (East Asian version) and Aislinn Tanaka, and Joaquin Morales

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: [Pending]

LoveHacks

I liked this story, but I wasn't quite invested in it enough to make a MC for it. Maybe when I give it a replay, I'll make a MC for it.

Most Wanted

The MCs in this book are not customizable in any way.

Mother of the Year

I liked this story a lot, but I'm currently still way too indecisive about the names and appearance I want for the MC and her daughter.

Ms. Match

I did not care enough for this book to make an official MC for it. Though I will say, the highlight of this story was that I named my MC "Perfect Match" for the sole purpose of eventually hearing someone say the title of the movie in the movie. Sure enough, I got that wish fulfilled around Ch 11-12. If I really really feel like it, I'll make a profile for this MC for the sole purpose of having that moment be part of my personal canon.

Murder at Homecoming: Peggy Stone

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but needs a more focused replay

Birthday: September 14, 2005 (approximately 17 during the story's timeline)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Black/African-American

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Tyler Woods (white version)

Endgame LI Headcanon: She marries Tyler Woods years later

Additional Notes: I might change "Valentine" to a different name in my headcanons.

My Two First Loves

This book is... well, it's not quite on my Choices shitlist, but it still annoyed me enough that I do not want to make a MC for it. Even when replaying it with a book pass, it was just gruelling to get through. Or maybe I might make a MC, for the sole purpose of pairing her off with Ava, pretending Mason and Noah get together as endgame, and then Ava breaks up with her. We'll see.

The Nanny Affair: Eh IDC

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but it might be fun to do one more playthrough

Birthday: February 2, 1991 (approximately 29-30 during the story's timeline)

Gender: Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Still pending (but uses the brown/Hispanic sprite)

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Samuel Dalton (white version)

Endgame LI Headcanon: [Pending]

Additional Notes: Yeah this is a very unserious MC creation. TNA is more of a guilty pleasure "fun bad" kind of series for me. But it also has a weird special place in my heart because Book 1 is the second ever Choices book I started and the first ever Choices book I completed.

Nightbound

This book was alright, but I wasn't quite invested enough in it to make a MC for it. Maybe that will change if and when I replay it. We'll see.

Open Heart

Update 06/26/2024: I'm currently playing the series, having finished Book 1 recently (I have played the first book years back, but it's been a long time since). I indeed am having way too much fun naming my MC "Martha Jones" to make an actual MC. But I did like Book 1, so maybe after I finish my playthrough, I'll make an actual official MC for it. She'll be a Bryce and Raf romancer.

Passport to Romance

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Perfect Match

I like this series a lot, and I want to have one female MC and one male MC for it. However, I'm short on ideas. I'll flesh out their profiles more after I do their playthroughs.

The Phantom Agent: Jane Bond

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but needs a replay

Birthday: [Pending]

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: [Pending]

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Agent Callum "Booty Galore" Grey (Indian version), but she also likes Rowan Salazar (male version), and she really likes the hookup options Nurse Lou Bellrose and Alexis Reid (both male)

Endgame LI Headcanon: I want to say all four of the aforementioned LIs/hookups, but unfortunately, Rowan and Alexis die in the story. I might rewrite that.

Additional Notes: I have a moral obligation to make this MC as James Bond as possible, the story is literally a PB take on James Bond.

Platinum

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Plus One

AI generated assets. Pass.

The Princess Swap

I liked this book, but it doesn't really have much going for it for one to make their own MCs from. But I might decide otherwise after a replay.

Queen B

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Red Carpet Diaries

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Ride or Die: Adelaide "Addi" Zhou

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but I might do a replay or two

Birthday: Pending, but it's sometime in the year 2001, somewhere between March and May (she's 18 during the story's timeline)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman (she/her)

Ethnicity: Is at least half-Chinese (East Asian sprite)

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Colt Kaneko

Endgame LI Headcanon: Her relationship with Colt is only a brief fling. What becomes of her love life after that is still pending.

Additional Notes: She became salutatorian in my playthrough. But I might try to see if I can get any different outcomes for her.

Rising Tides

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Roommates With Benefits: Atticus St. James

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but not with this specific MC

Birthday: October 28, 2003 (approximately 19-20 during the story's timeline)

Gender: Genderqueer Cis man (he/him)

Ethnicity: European (Caucasian/White sprite)

Sexuality: mlw

In-Game LI Pursued: Drew Young (White Female)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Drew Young

Additional Notes: Honestly I found this book rather mid. But I just couldn't resist the chance to un-genderlock it myself because this has no reason to be genderlocked.

Rivals With Benefits

I'm tempted to play this one and even make an official MC for it, if only for the purpose of hearing MC constantly refer to m!LI as "Omega". But male Riley's CG clearly uses AI. Where are his nipples??????

The Royal Masquerade

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

The Royal Romance: Lew [Last Name Pending]

Book Playthrough Status: Currently in progress and on indefinite hiatus

Birthday: February 2, 1991 (approximately 26 at the start of the story)

Gender: GNC Cis Woman

Ethnicity: Indian (South Asian sprite)

Sexuality: Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Liam Rys (Asian version)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Liam Rys

Additional Notes: Her original last name was "Asshunter", just for funsies. But I plan to change it because unlike TNA, this is likely to be a series that I will genuinely care about (up until TRH anyways)

Rules of Engagement

I wasn't quite invested in this book enough to make my own MC for it.

Save the Date

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Ship of Dreams

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Shipwrecked: Aoto Aiuchi

Book Playthrough Status: Completed, but not quite with this specific MC

Birthday: January 15, 1996 (approximately 26 in the story's timeline)

Gender: Genderqueer Cis Man (he/him)

Ethnicity: Japanese (East Asian sprite)

Sexuality: Greysexual Straight

In-Game LI Pursued: Manu Nakeli (Female Pacific Islander version)

Endgame LI Headcanon: Manu Nakeli

Additional Notes: [Pending]

Slow Burn

This book was disappointing. But if I really feel like it, I might make a MC for it anyway.

Sunkissed

I have yet to play this. Not sure I'll make a MC for it, because last time I tried to play it, I got bored to death and quit after five chapters.

Surrender

This is the worst choices series ever. First place on my permanent choices shitlist. I might make a MC for it later though, if only to have her smash Reagan's face in with a lead strap-on chainsaw that ejaculates liquid radioactive waste.

Terror Fest

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book. I feel like I'll like it.

The Unexpected Heiress

I liked this one the first time I started playing it. I'm looking forward to starting this one again and making the MC for it. But I don't have a lot of ideas. So I'm gonna play the book first and then come up with the MC as I go along.

Untameable

This book is ranked in third place on my permanent choices shitlist. But I might also wanna make a MC for the sole purpose of bitchslapping Austin. Then again, that would be a lot more effort than this boring ass book deserves.

Unbridled

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Veil of Secrets

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

Wake the Dead

I had mixed feelings about this book. But I still want to make a MC for it. But I don't have a lot of ideas. I'll give the book a replay before I make a MC.

Wishful Thinking

I have yet to play this. I'll make a MC for it based on how much I like the book.

With Every Heartbeat: Sage Amin

Book Playthrough Status: Complete

Birthday: April 21, 2001 (approximately 18-19 throughout the story)

Gender: GNC? Cis Woman

Ethnicity: Black-Indian (Black/African-American sprite)

Sexuality: wlm

In-Game LI Pursued: Dakota Winchester (Male Asian version)

Endgame LI Headcanon: She and Dakota do not end up together for, uh, obvious reasons. Whether or not she will end up with a new partner is still pending.

Additional Notes: She goes to Grantmore University by the end of the story.

Witness: A Bodyguard Romance

Hahhahahhahhhahhahahhahahhahahahhaha what the fuck were the writers smoking when they wrote this book

Okay tbh I didn't mind this book too much the second time around, but it didn't invest me enough to want to make any MC for it. Maybe I'll make a male MC + female Cassian.

Wolf Bride

This book was too mid for me to make a MC for.

[snootlestheangel]

Cheers to the Unknown Pt.7

Monster/cryptid au ft. Just A Dude!Ghost; canon-divergent, alternate universe. More details here (parts are not a coherent story necessarily just scenarios as they come to me !subject to change!;all tagged under "cheers to the unknown") TW: Some discussion of past traumas; This is just about some of their quirks and the way they interact based on their species of monster; some angsty stuff about their backgrounds and stuff

141 Stuffs with Siren!Gaz, Lightning Nymph!Soap, Changeling!Price, and Just A Dude!Ghost

Gaz boops people with his nose. Ghost and Soap get direct nose-to-nose boops, but Price gets a slight bump either to his shoulder or the side of his nose.

Once again, Gaz is still a chompy boi, but when it's not his partners, he just chomps someone's hand or their shoulder. Like full on aggressive bite. Price keeps threatening to return him every time he gets bit. Gaz knows he won't and he abuses that knowledge.

Price is such a little trinket gift-giver. It's definitely a weird feeling for Ghost because the captain is a changeling after all, but Ghost still knows he means no harm.

Both Gaz and Price have sensitive noses, Gaz more so than Price. They refuse to be near Soap when he's meal prepping because of the strong acid smells. Ghost also refuses to be near but for different reasons.

Meal prepping for Soap looks like him pouring straight battery acid into a thermos. Ghost almost started crying the first time he saw it. He still has a hard time watching Soap make a deadly concoction and call it "lunch".

Price loves fishing for two reasons: it's an excuse to get away from everyone for a bit and it's also a good way to keep an eye on his Siren son. He sometimes keeps the bigger fish for Gaz when he knows the sergeant feels homesick.

Price and Ghost like to mess with recruits that are rude and just awful to deal with. They do this by Price making himself look like the lieutenant, and they'll spend an entire day freaking out the targeted recruits by having "Ghost" be seen in multiple places at the same time. Recruits quickly learn not to piss off Ghost because "he's everywhere. It's fucking terrifying."

Soap will shock people for the hell of it. Recruits slacking off during training? Gaz is being obnoxious? Ghost won't get up? Price is about to hand him a stack of paperwork he doesn't want to do? Zap

Ghost absolutely sticks by Laswell's side sometimes when she visits. She's the only other human he works closely with and trusts. Look, he loves Soap and Gaz, and he trusts Price something fierce, but sometimes his nonhuman partners stress him the fuck out. He just needs the presence of another human being.

Gaz will sometimes "hunt" his partners when they join him for a lake day. Ghost is typically the target, since Soap and lake water don't get along well. He'll grab them off the shore or drag them under the water for a brief second after stalking them. Ghost is used to it, and knows that participating helps Gaz let out some energy but also keeps his skills sharp.

The last time Gaz hunted Soap, it scared the nymph so bad he let out a shock but it ended up shocking Gaz, and they had to get out for a minute because Soap almost drowned.

When Gaz gets particularly sad or down, he'll hide under the little rundown dock on the base's lake. Sometimes, Soap and Ghost will lie on the dock, just one of them, both and Price, or Price and one of them. For the most part, it's typically just Price keeping an eye on his son. On the really bad days, Gaz wants just Price but the captain has to sit in the shallow part of the water next to Gaz so the siren can curl against him.

During times like that, Price wishes nothing more than to be able to make himself look like a Siren. He can't and it secretly breaks his heart.

Soap, being a relatively old being (I'm thinking a couple hundred years minimum), has a hard time adjusting to modern life on occasion. He was born during a time that monsters were being hunted for simply existing. He grew up hearing horror stories about humans and their technology that allowed for such heinous things. He never got to meet his grandfather because he was killed by humans.

Because of all that, he gets freaked out a bit when he's around a lot of humans. There's so much fear he has of them, and that's why the whole thing with Graves was really bad for him. Graves, being a human, and knowing how to kill a special nymph like Soap even though nymphs had been hiding for decades, was really upsetting.

Soap really wants for his family to meet Ghost, but he doesn't ever bring him up to them. He's afraid of what'll happen when they find out he's dating a human. They don't know about Gaz, either.

Price is also older than he looks. Not nearly as old as Soap, but he's not 37, more like 57 in actual years he's been alive. Changelings age slower than other species.

Price has actually known Gaz since he was a kid. He saved Gaz from poachers during an assignment. Gaz was 11 at the time, Price was technically 42 but looked more like 35. Unfortunately, Price and his team couldn't save the whole pod, just Gaz. Even though Gaz was eleven at the time, Sirens are emotionally reliant on their parents until they're twenty (20), so Price took it upon himself to be the little Siren's new dad. Sirens, in general, are just very reliant on others.

Nik, may or may not, have aided in raising the Siren.

Gaz still has nightmares about the incident, and will seek out Dad after the really bad ones.

Soap sometimes has a slight vibration after being fully charged. Ghost and Gaz both love when he lays on top of them after this. It's like a giant, warmer cat purring.

(any suggestions on what Nik should be?)

Taglist (want added?): @tacticaltaxonomist @cthulhusstepmom @cathnoneofyourbusiness @thorougly-melted-brains @sp4z-4tt4ck @49saltpeppershakers @bluebrryice