#and i still can't walk without crutches or for very long

[weregreatatcrime]

Hiii! Omg I am so happy to see you doing Trollhunters again! And I am enjoying the crossover tidbits.

Though, as an older fan, I am curious to ask, hope it doesn't feel too pushy. Have you thought about your Kanjibarbara fic ever since coming back to ToA?

Okay so I'm gonna say it again and probably not one more time. Not because this ask was pushy, you're fine, but because I've gotten Several asks about it over the last two years since stopping Kanjibara au and all my other projects. It's frustrating because it's a deeply personal and painful topic for me and many people from multiple Fandoms keep asking the same questions. Like a lot of people. Like, a LOT of fucking people on ao3

The last two years have been medical hell. I've had a fuckton of medical, neurological, and mental issues that changed my entire life- part of those issues are cognitive decline and memory loss. The first year is a blur tbh, and a lot of my memories are fuzzy as a result. My ability to recall things is scattered- some shit is fine, some stuff may as well have happened to a stranger.

Part of that is my creative work. I don't think I'll ever continue the things I was working on beforehand, simply because I don't remember what I was planning or what I was doing with them. I remember I had an absolute joy with them! I remember the Trollhunters Fandom being a delight and a very warm and welcoming environment.

But a lot of details are muddy and I'm sure you understand, trying to piece together my own memories of stuff I'm struggling with is frustrating and painful and more stressful than it's worth. I'm already recovering incredibly well right now, I don't feel like digging myself back into that hole for Fandom stuff

New stuff is all on the table though! After two years, I finally was able to get my hand strength back up enough to draw recently and have been working on maintaining it. (Tremors and spasms made it impossible before) I'm also back into writing- though I still struggle with cognitive issues with writing, working on writing things that bring me joy has helped a lot

But all my projects from before are likely not going to be touched on again. It sucks. But they're a sensitive topic for me rn and probably will be touchy for a long while. Chances are I'll delete any asks or comments I get about them from here on out just for my own sake

[poorly-written-fiction]

a little bit too much - logan howlett x fem!reader

A/N: i saw @journal3sposts post about logan with his young, tipsy, hypersexual little girlfriend who can't keep her hands to herself in the car. the post spoke to me on a very deep, emotional level. so i threw this fic together. it doesn't actually end in smut, i do have some minor discomfort writing dubious consent content, mostly because i don't want to make anyone else uncomfortable. but if this is received well and i don't get bricks theown at me i will write something properly spicy. this is also the first piece of writing i'm posting publicly in 10 years so please have some patience with me. also despite being 22 years old and being a casual alcohol drinker, i do not drink at bars, so my idea of going to bars is based solely on the experiences of others + what i've seen in movies and tv shows. apologies, i'm sorry i'm lame.

tags: not quite smut, but very suggestive (18+, MDNI), alcohol consumption (reader is 21+), age gap (legal, but let's be honest, every relationship with logan is an age gap relationship) fem!reader (no specific descriptions of appearance), reader is handsy, logan is a little more responsible, some spelling/grammar errors probably i'm too tired to check

Logan loved taking Y/N to bars. She was fun without alcohol, but after a few drinks she was truly a sight. Logan would joke that she kept him young with her shenanigans. She would drink and dance, and flirt - oh good lord, she would flirt. She would run her hands up and down his arms, run her fingers through his hair, any excuse she had to touch Logan, she'd take it. She'd take a shot, then kiss him immediately after - or kiss him right after he took a drink of his own drink. Usually it was beer, but he occasionally got whiskey when he was in the mood for it.

One particular night, Logan and Y/N were at a bar playing a game at one of the billiards tables. It wasn't a grimy place, but definitely not one of the nicest places either of them had gone to. It was comfortable enough - the music didn't play too loud and the drinks were good, and strong. Logan sipped a glass of whiskey, while Y/N tried whatever the bartender had suggested when she asked for a recommendation. That was another thing Logan liked about her, she would try almost anything at least once. After a drink of her own, a celebratory shot for winning the game, and a few sips she had snuck from Logan's glass, she was well on her way to stumbling a little more when she walked. She clung to Logan like a crutch, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to him so she wouldn't fall or wander too far. Y/N grabbed Logan by the collar of his flannel shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. A long, hard, meaningful kiss. There was never any doubts that they loved each other, but they don't call alcohol "liquid truth" for nothing.

"We better get you home, darlin'." Logan paid the tab and scooped up Y/N, carrying her bridal style to the old truck. "Can you grab the door for me, princess?" Y/N pulled the handle, and Logan got her settled inside, pressing a kiss to her temple when he buckled her seatbelt. When he made sure she was secure, he shut the door and made his way over the driver's side. He hopped in, turned the key, and started back for home.

The ride back was comfortably quiet. Not a lot of conversation, just the sounds of the road and some generic country song played inaudibly on the radio. Logan drove with one of his hands on Y/N's thigh, occasionally rubbing it with his thumb and smiling at her. She'd smile back, her head still feeling fuzzy from the outing, but she was in good hands, and she was happy. It didn't take long before they were stopped at a red light that held for just a little bit longer than some of the others, and Y/N slid one of her hands over Logan's chest.

He smiled, shaking his head, "What are you doing there, baby?"

Y/N just smiled back, mumbling something along the lines of, "I'm just feeling you. You're so handsome."

Logan smiled before leaning over and kissed his lover, her breath still smelling faintly of alcohol. It wasn't off-putting, just a subtle reminder that she wasn't completely sober. Y/N couldn't contain herself, moaning quietly into the kiss and running her hands down to his belt, fumbling with it. Logan put one of his hands over hers, moving them away gently.

"Babygirl, we can't do that right now," Logan pressed his forehead against hers, smiling apologetically. He couldn't deny that he didn't like the contact or the way Y/N would practically throw herself at him. But, he didn't want to take advantage - or feel like he was taking advantage - especially because she was so much younger than he was. Almost everyone Logan knew was younger than him, but Y/N almost made it too obvious that there was a significant age difference between the two. He didn't mind it too much, obviously because they had been dating for a while, but his moral compass still steered him away from fucking her while she was this intoxicated.

Y/N pouted, moving her hands back up to his chest, "What about when we get home? I want you so badly, Lo..."

He kissed her forehead, and rubbed her thigh gently, not with intention of teasing her, but instead as a way to soothe her. "You're not sober enough, darlin'. It wouldn't be right. If you feel up for it in the morning, we can try again."

"But it's okay, I love you, it would be okay." Y/N's head was just spinning with the idea of Logan touching her. He shook his head, gave her soft thigh a light squeeze, and the light turned green. Logan pressed on the gas, and continued his drive home.

"If you feel up for it in the morning, I'd be more than happy to give you what you want. For tonight, we need to get you into bed, doll."

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

A/N: thank you for reading, if you did! suggestions, questions, comments and concerns are always appreciated okay bye!

[ech0schamber]

i hope your injury gets better asap!! but as for requests,, how about dazai/ranpo reacting to you waking up after being in a coma for a year(s)?

awhh, thank you :] and sorry this took so long, i totally forgot to check my computer lmao

and damn, jumping straight into the angst lets go

☆i just had to use this gif i couldn't find the one from oda's scene

☆ANYWAYS

☆you had been on a mission with dazai when you got severely injured, he had tried to get you out of the area and to a hospital as fast as he could, but you still went into a coma due to your injuries

☆he had tried his hardest to stay stronger for you, but as soon as he was told that you were in a coma and that the doctors had no idea when you were going to wake up, he immediately wanted to sob his eyes out

☆he got incredibly drunk that night

☆for the first couple of months, he visited you every day. even if it meant that he left work early to see you. for once, kunikida never scolded him about it

☆eventually, he stopped visiting as frequently. it went from everyday, to every couple of days, to maybe once a week. it got to the point that he would only visit you a handful of times every mouth. the longer you were there, the more and more hope he lost

☆during this time, his alcoholic tendencies got worse, he ended up hurting himself more, even his suicide attempts got worse and more frequent. everyone at the agency started to look after him, hell, even chuuya started to look after him

☆you had finally woke up from your coma, and you immediately asked where dazai was. once the doctors checked your vitals and made sure you weren't at risk for falling into another coma, they had called dazai to tell him

☆he was at the agency when they called, now normally, he wouldn't answer his phone, but he had saved the number of the hospital just in case

☆he almost broke down as soon as he heard that you were awake. he basically ran out of the agency, much to kunikida's dislike. (he understands once he finds out your awake though)

☆it took him like 10 minutes to get to the hospital bc his lanky ass ran the whole way there

☆the second that he walked into the hospital room and saw that you truly had woken up, the tears immediately started falling. he hugged you and sobbed into your shoulder for almost an hour before he could calm himself down

☆thankfully, the doctors had informed you that you were in a coma for over a year, so you didn't freak out when this happened

☆you had held him tightly the whole time, whispering reassuring and comforting comments to him the whole time

☆once he had finally fully calmed down, he gave you a big ol' smooch

☆he took a second to text kunikida to give him the news, and to ask for the next few days off, dazai was not going to leave your side. if the hospital staff wasn't willing to let him stay, they would probably have to drag his ass out of the hospital

☆but, for the sake of my sanity, the doctors were nice and let him stay :]

☆now, after being in a coma for that long, your muscle start to weaken and basically give out on themselves. i mean, you were stuck in one position for over a year, that to be expected. you are going to be stuck in a wheelchair for a while, your legs can't carry your weight anymore

☆dazai was very willing to help you with your physical therapy, he basically moved himself into your apartment to help you. he'd even leave in the middle of work if you called him stating you needed help with something

☆jumping forward a bit, you're on crutches now, and can walk around your apartment without much help now

☆now that dazai's head had finally fully processed that you were awake, he'd become clingy as fuck. he wanted to cling to you earlier, but he was terrified of accidentally hurting you

☆you got yourself a human koala now, congrats ;]

☆he is going to get possessive of you, he lost you for a year, he is not going to let you out of his sight for a long time. don't even think about trying to go onto a dangerous mission, he will trap you, and threaten his co-workers if they try to assign you a mission they know is dangerous. you are probably going to have to reel it in a bit, he can get very possessive at times, but it is because he is absolutely terrified that you are going to get injured and he won't be able to save you

☆please comfort him, he needs a lot of love after that

☆ohhh this poor baby

☆he knew that you were going to get hurt by taking this mission, and he told you that. you still went, ignoring his warning. he did not know that you were going to be sent into a coma due to your injuries

☆he, of course, stayed back at the agency, his job doesn't intel mission work like yours does, but he knew something was very wrong when you didn't come back when you supposed to

☆he was contacted by the hospital, as he was your emergency contact. he was absolutely devastated by the news. for once, he just quietly left. he didn't even tell fukuzawa what was happening, he only found out later when yosano had reported back to everyone.

☆he didn't go to the hospital immediately. instead, he went home and bawled his eyes out. he didn't know what to do, and it honestly made him fill like a lost child again

☆he visited you everyday. he didn't care if you didn't wake up from the coma, he would still visit you every single day

☆he cried. a lot. it ended up taking a toll on his mental health, everyone at the agency had noticed and started caring for him in your absence, he even ended up staying at fukuzawa's place several times bc he couldn't bear the thought of going home alone

☆anytime his phone went off, he'd immediately checked it to see if it was the hospital calling

☆when the hospital did finally call though? he shot out of the agency at lightning speed, his beloved was finally awake and he was not going to let them be alone for very long

☆he quite literally threw himself onto you when he finally saw you. the doctors were not to pleased by this, but neither of you cared

☆he cried into your shoulder for the longest time, clinging onto you as he was afraid that you would disappear into thin air if he let go of you, so there is no way he didn't stay with basically the whole time you were in the hospital

☆he'd also be very willing to help you with physical therapy! and he'd make sure you'd eat properly, you probably lost a lot of weight

☆literally made a rule that if he tells you not to go on a mission, you don't go on that mission. like, no one at the agency would let you leave for said mission, even fukuzawa wouldn't assign you cases if ranpo said that you were going to get hurt on them

☆get ready for possessive ranpo, he is going to make sure that will never happen again

☆will literally ask yosano to go kill a bitch if they lay their hands on you

----

while you can request angst headcanons as much as you want, please be aware that they are not going to be first priority! while i absolutely love writing angsty stuff, it's not always gonna be easy for me to do so

please don't let that stop you from requesting! i love to see all your ideas!

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Jon Snow: Bravery of an injured boy

When Jon Snow decides to abandon the Free Folk and return to the Night's Watch he's s injured by an arrow on his leg. His injury is pretty serious to the point that even a couple of days later right before the battle of Castle Black he needs help in order to dress himself and his leg hurts a lotl:

His leg still hurt like blazes when he put his weight on it. He'd needed Clydas to help him don his fresh-washed blacks and lace up his boots this morning, and by the time they were done he'd wanted to drown himself in the milk of the poppy

That doesn't stop Jon from joining the fight, though. Despite the fact that his black brothers try to stop him from doing so, he's stubborn enough to decide that he will help fighting the Free Folk.

"I can fight," he insisted when they tried to stop him.

During the preparations and the actual fight Martin describes Jon using a crutch to move around. We also get a couple of mentions of Jon's painful injury:

He could feel the throb of pain where her arrow had gone through the meat and muscle of his thigh

He went downstairs himself to bar the door, trying to work some of the stiffness of his leg.

So what does injured Jon Snow does during the attack on Castle Black? He fights as an archer among his black brothers. He also acts as a mentor to the newer recruit Satin who is fighting next to him by giving him advice on how to fight and encouraging him. Both men attack the Thenns who stormed the castle's gate ( with injured Jon using Longclaw) and later pour boiling oil to enemies who attempt to reach them. It's pretty impressive for a man who can't even move without help:

Jon asked Satin to help him down to the yard. His wounded leg hurt so badly he could hardly walk , even with the crutch.

Even after the first battle of the Night's Watch vs Wildings, Jon's leg continues to hurt him but that once again doesn't stop him from preparing for the next battle:

He shoved aside the furs and sat. The pain in his leg seemed duller, nothing he couldn't stand.[...]The horn blew again, two long blasts, so he slung Longclaw over one shoulder, found his crutch and hobbled down the steps.

During the battle beneath the Wall he even commands the defense once Donal Noye leaves to hold the gate from within the tunnel( and later on when he dies). Our injured boy does a fine job commanding his fellow brothers. He gives them courage and inspires then to fight harder with his speech to them.

Once again, Martin shows how tired and wounded Jon is in order to highlight that despite all these difficulties Jon remains a fierce defender of the Wall until the very end.

The wall is mine, Jon reminded himself whenever he felt his strength flagging. He had taken up a longbow himself, and his fingers felt crabbed and stiff, half-frozen. His fever was back as well, and his leg would tremble uncontrollably, sending a white- hot knife of pain right through him. One more arrow, and I'll rest, he told himself, half a hundred times. Just one more.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

OK, people were very nice to me yesterday about my latest absurdly niche blorbo: Guthláf of Rohan. I wrote a little story about him (it's below and it's only 500ish words). But I feel like I can't post it in isolation without explaining myself a little better first.

The fact that he's Théoden’s banner bearer is the only detail about Guthláf’s life in the canon. But just that by itself was enough to grab my interest because I took a class on ancient warfare in college, and one of my major takeaways was that the flag bearers were often the bravest and most selfless guys in a battle. They were highly visible, highly vulnerable, and highly prized as a target for the enemy. That's not an encouraging combo, and they had an appallingly high casualty rate. And yet, the ones who pursued it did so willingly and considered it an honor!

Although Guthláf's name literally means "battle survivor", he did not avoid the flag bearer’s usual fate. He’s listed among the fatalities at the Pelennor Fields (along with Halbarad, the only (?) other named flag bearer in the books). So I wrote the drabble-ish story below about Guthláf’s experience of his own terrifying job. (I also, of course, have a full head canon about his personal life—how he spoke Rohirric with a rural accent that stood out in Edoras, how the early loss of his family drove him toward recklessness, how he was maybe in love with fellow obscure blorbo Wídfara, etc.—if anyone is interested! And I decided that he's the tall, blonde drink of water on the left below, who I believe is otherwise unnamed and is too young to be Elfhelm or Erkenbrand.)

Anyway. Story (ish) here:

Alone among his éored, Guthláf carries no weapon. In his left hand, he holds his shield, his one and only means of protecting himself; in his right, he carries his banner, a charging white horse on a field of deep green that whips furiously in the cold wind above his head.

Alone among his éored, Guthláf does not strike blows. His war is fought not with strength of arms but with strength of spirit. He has only to keep himself going long enough to let his banner do its work. To signal the direction of the charge and mark the vanguard of the attack. To be the rallying point around which scattered troops coalesce. To lead the way, like a torch in the dark, so that those behind know where to follow. He has only to keep that banner flying, set high and stark against the cool blankness of the winter sky, so that every Rohirrim heart can see that they are yet unconquered, that victory still lies ahead.

Alone among his éored, Guthláf can never hide or blend in. His banner draws the eyes of foes just as easily as friends. His every move is visible. Noted. Tracked. Hunted. The hope he kindles in his fellow riders is equaled by the hatred he inspires in their enemies, and there is no greater blow such an enemy can strike than to bring him down, to achieve with the death of one man the turning of a tide that can change the fate of thousands.

Alone among his éored, Guthláf has no hope that he will survive unscathed to see old age. Banner bearers don’t last long in times of war, and Guthláf is his éored’s fourth bearer in five years. He has only to walk the streets of Edoras to be confronted with the reality of how the lucky banner bearers end their days–empty sleeves tied up where an arm used to be, angry red scars across unprotected faces and necks, canes and crutches that will never fully compensate for crushed legs, twisted spines, shattered hips. The unlucky ones end instead in hastily raised barrows, resting eternally in the sometimes distant and friendless lands where they finally slid from the saddle, bloodied and broken and desperately looking for a loyal hand into which they could pass the banner before everything went dark at last.

And yet, Guthláf wanted this job. He fought for this job. It means everything to him. Because even as he rides to his death, charging into battle on his gray warhorse with his banner streaming brilliantly in his wake, he has never felt more alive. He has never felt so much bigger than himself. When he carries his banner, he is no longer just Guthláf, son of Hulac. He is instead the spirit of Helm, and Eorl, and Frumgar and all the great warriors of old. He is the sound of thousands of hoofs thundering together across an open plain. He is the sight of the jagged white peaks towering over the lush green and gold grasses of the Mark. He is Rohan itself, not just a man but an idea. And an idea can never be slain. When he carries his banner, Guthláf becomes immortal.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: Mechanic chapter 6! previous chapters are found here.

Warnings: fluff/angst/brief smut/suggestive, mention of violence, blood, drugs, smoking, toxic behaviour.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You returned from France after two months and found out Sihtric had been lying to you.

wordcount: 4,5k

Masterlist

'Give me one more?'

'Thank you,' you said as you gave your cab driver a tip. You grabbed your bags and suitcases and turned to face your home, ready to walk up your driveway, but you froze before you could take another step forward.

'Sihtric?' you gasped, surprised, and dropped your bags.

Your heart simply stopped upon the sight of your boyfriend, the smoking hot mechanic, who was waiting in front of your house, leaning back against a brand new mat black motorcycle as he grinned at you. He was wearing his dark sunglasses, and he wasn't completely joking when he said he considered shaving off his hair, as he had shaved off half of it, leaving his long dark curls only on one side of his head. His leather jacket was unzipped, revealing his hoodie underneath. His black jeans were old and worn, and his black leather boots were all laced up. You were stunned at the sight of him and your knees weakened. How did you end up with a guy as sexy and breathtaking as him? You were simply waiting to find something wrong with him.

'My pretty lady,' Sihtric smiled and held his arms open to you.

'W-what are you… I…how,' you stammered. You had so many questions, but you couldn't bring yourself to think properly.

'Are you just going to stand there, doll?' he laughed, throwing his arms up before he took off his shades. And you ran to him.

Sihtric immediately took your face in his rough hands, locking your lips in a desperate, passionate kiss. You tried to pull away twice, wanting to ask your burning questions, but each time he pulled you back in, kissing you intensely, simply refusing to let you go. He caressed your cheeks as he kissed you, and moaned softly against your lips, finally able to fully feel the warmth of your skin underneath his fingertips again.

'Fuck,' Sihtric breathed, before he kissed you eagerly again, 'baby, I missed you so fucking much.'

'I missed you too, so much,' you said and teared up, tugging at his jacket, 'I just don't understand.'

'You don't understand you missed me, lady?' he chuckled, holding your face firmly in his hands.

'No, you idiot,' you snorted, weakly punching his chest, 'how… why… when,' you sighed and tried to collect your thoughts. First things first. 

'Your hair?' you asked.

'You don't like it?'

'I do,' you smiled, 'but since when…'

'Yesterday,' Sihtric laughed, 'had to get a haircut before you got back home, it was a mess.'

'And… your… your hands?' you said, taking his hands in yours, and he gave you a light squeeze.

'I can feel everything again, babe,' he said, smiling, 'and yes, I can walk properly too,' he quickly said before you could ask, 'I wanted to surprise you, so I didn't tell you the full truth about my recovery.'

'What?' you frowned with a smile, 'but w-why?'

'A few weeks after you left I was able to walk without crutches already,' Sihtric said and kissed your lips again, 'remember you asked me if I'd come running to you at the airport?'

'Yeah,' you smiled, remembering that video chat very well for several reasons.

'I think I told you I was still walking with one crutch then, but I wasn't,' he confessed, 'and I already had my new bike by then,' he grinned and slapped the seat of his motorcycle.

'You're such a liar,' you chuckled, 'I can't believe you kept this all from me!' you said as you lightly punched his chest again, 'you're such a jerk,' you smiled.

Sihtric laughed and took your hands, pinning them alongside your body as he kissed you again.

'Damn, and I thought you'd be happy to see me again,' he smiled against your lips.

'I am,' you hummed, 'fuck,' you sighed and looked up at him, 'you look so good, handsome.'

'So do you, beautiful,' Sihtric smiled and pecked your lips again, 'come take a ride with me, baby?' he asked as he held your hands, hoping you weren't too terrified to join him on his bike after everything that happened.

'You don't have to work?' you frowned and circled your arms around his waist.

'Still only half days, lady, that I didn't lie about,' Sihtric smiled and cupped your cheeks, 'I made sure to finish work in time today, so I could be here when you'd get back,' he softly nuzzled your nose, 'I couldn't stand the thought of not seeing you right away, and having to wait even longer until I got to kiss you again.'

You giggled, 'stop being so cute, it's annoying.'

'Sure,' Sihtric smiled and rolled his eyes, 'come join me then? Hm?'

'Hmm… well, I really want to take a shower first. I feel disgusting after my flight,' you grimaced, 'you can wait inside? I won't take long.'

Sihtric gladly accepted your offer, finally being able to see your home, as he had never been able to set foot inside your house before. At least, not after that night he decided to go home, after he kissed you good night, only to make a u-turn back to you after regretting not taking up your offer to stay the night, which had been a near fatal decision for him.

As you unlocked your door, Sihtric went to pick up the suitcases and bags you had dropped when you saw him, and he followed you inside. 

And as you showered before changing into comfortable clothes which were suitable for a bike ride, Sihtric amused himself by wandering through your home, learning more about you through the little things he saw and found around your house.

'All ready,' you said, smiling, when you found Sihtric in your kitchen after he had helped himself to a drink.

'All ready?' Sihtric smiled, taking your hand and pulling you close, 'all ready for me, baby?' he whispered with a smirk.

'Maybe,' you giggled lightly, looking up in his duo coloured eyes, and you exhaled sharply, 'I missed you, Sihtric,' you whispered, sneaking your hands under his hoodie, feeling those delicious abs he so teased you with when you were separated.

'I missed you too, lady,' Sihtric whispered, his hands squeezing your hips firmly, 'and I want you,' he breathed, 'I want you right now, babe,' his voice became raspy. And he gently pushed you backwards into your living room, towards your couch.

'No,' you said when your back collided with your couch.

'No?' Sihtric frowned, his eyes darkened.

'No,' you smiled, 'not here,' you glanced at your couch, 'bedroom,' you said curtly.

Sihtric grinned and picked you up, carrying you into your bedroom, which he had inspected already when you were taking a shower. He threw you on your bed and you giggled. You watched Sihtric take off his leather jacket and his hoodie, showing off his toned body as well as all his scars, old and new. Then he beckoned you over.

'Come,' he smiled, taking your chin in his hand and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, 'take off my jeans, baby?' he asked with a sly smile, 'slowly.'

You did as he asked, slowly unbuckling his leather belt and pulling it out of the belt loops. Sihtric hummed softly as he looked down at you with a smile, holding your chin with one hand as he raked his fingers through your hair with his other.

'So fucking beautiful, babe,' he husked and lifted your chin up, 'give me one more?'

You smiled and sat back on your heels, pulling your stunning man in for a soft kiss.

'Hm,' Sihtric hummed softly, 'one more?'

You chuckled and gave him another kiss. And without him having to ask, you unbuttoned his skinny jeans, and he climbed in bed with you while he kicked the jeans off his ankles.

'I missed you,' Sihtric said, breathing hard and heavy as he held your face again, smothering you with kisses, 'been thinking of you every night,' he husked, 'you've been thinking of me?' he asked.

'Mhm,' you hummed as you kissed him desperately, 'every night,' you sighed and allowed him to take off your shirt.

He kissed your neck and shoulders all over, his strong arms wrapped around your body as he gently moved you to lie down on your back.

'Every night?' he smiled while he took off your jeans.

'And every morning,' you grinned as you pulled him back up to you.

Sihtric laughed and kissed your lips, his hands trailing up your arms, to your neck, cupping your cheeks. 

'I'll have you now,' Sihtric said, 'I'll have you tonight,' he winked and kissed your lips, 'and I'll have you in the morning,' he chuckled and pulled you on top of him.

You quickly rid yourself of your panties while Sihtric cupped your breasts, smiling satisfied at the feeling before he sat back up and kissed your shoulder. His lips trailed down your skin and he kissed your nipple, then teased you slowly with his tongue and teeth, softly biting your sensitive skin before he flicked his tongue against your nipple, then sucked and kissed your soft flesh gently. You moaned at the feeling and raked your hand through his hair, tugging his dark locks for more. You were too impatient. You didn't need or want any foreplay. You had foreplay for months already.

'Just fuck me already,' you breathed.

'Oh, I will fuck you good,' Sihtric smirked and licked his lips as he pulled you back on top again, 'come take me, baby,' he husked as he laid back, his hands behind his head, looking up at you with hunger and desperate love in his eyes.

'Fucking finally,' you sighed when you felt him inside you.

You closed your front door behind you and hopped over to Sihtric, albeit a little clumsy, as your legs were completely sore. Turned out that Sihtric was a complete wild beast in bed, which you didn't mind, but you weren't sure if you'd be able to handle him again tonight… or in the morning. He could keep it up for hours, unlike your previous bedpartners. It was a pleasant surprise, but also quite the workout, and you really needed a moment to recover as he made you finish three times, and your head was still spinning when you closed in on your hot mechanic. Sihtric handed you his helmet and got on his bike, with a satisfied smile as he had finally fucked the woman of his dreams completely senseless only minutes ago, and he pushed his bike off its stand before starting it.

'The insurance paid you well, I see,' you joked, looking at his new vehicle.

'They didn't pay me yet,' Sihtric chuckled.

'Oh,' you frowned, 'guess Finan pays you well then.'

Sihtric laughed at that and revved the engine a few times, then held his hand out to you and pulled you in for a kiss.

'I love you,' he smiled and put his shades on, 'you're mine, lady,' he said and kissed your lips lightly.

'I love you too, and you're mine,' you smiled and got seated behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

'Trust me?'

'Yeah,' you said, squeezing him in your arms.

Sihtric took your hand and gave it a soft kiss, before he steered his bike onto the mainroad.

At first you felt nervous. You knew the accident wasn't his fault, but it still spooked you, being so vulnerable on a motorcycle. But the fear only lingered for a short moment, and you soon felt at ease again when you felt the warm wind sweeping through your clothes. Every now and then Sihtric would go way over the speed limit, and you had to give him a quick squeeze to keep him in check, after which he immediately lowered his speed. You had snuck one hand under his hoodie, and you felt his heartbeat the entire time. You knew he simply lived for rides like this. Speeding, but never being reckless or seeking danger, he just loved the feeling of freedom and control it gave him. And you couldn't deny it made him even sexier than he already was.

After a while Sihtric pulled up to a near empty parking lot next to a large forest area, as he needed a quick break. He was still getting used to riding his bike for longer periods again, and had to take it easy, taking breaks every now and then to give his muscles some rest.

'You okay?' you asked as he sat down next to you on a bench.

'Yeah,' he smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, 'you?' he asked and pressed a kiss to your temple.

'Yeah,' you chuckled, and watched how Sihtric suddenly pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

'What?' you scoffed, 'Sihtric?'

'Yeah?' he looked up at you, oblivious, 'what is it, babe?'

You stared at the pack in his hands, and then he chuckled.

'Oh, shit,' he mumbled and shook his head with a smile, 'yeah. I smoke too. Actually,' he said, as he lit the cigarette and took a drag, 'I recently started again,' he sighed and blew out the smoke, away from you.

'Christ,' you grimaced, 'now that's a turn off,' you laughed.

'I know,' he smiled a little shyly, 'I'm sorry.' He took another drag and went on, 'I started when you suddenly had to leave, for work. It stressed me out not having you near me anymore, so far away. It made me sad, so, you know,' he held up his smoking cigarette and shrugged.

'Oh, so I'm to blame?' you rolled your eyes with a smile, 'classy, Sihtric.'

Sihtric laughed as he flicked his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with his boot, and he was quick to down a few mints before he kissed your cheek.

'You're never to blame for my behaviour, lady,' he smiled sweetly.

'You're so… god, I don't even know,' you chuckled, feeling yourself blush, and suddenly you got interrupted by the sound of numerous revving engines. 

You watched a biker gang drive by. The infamous biker gang of your city, the Ragnarsons. You were about to ignore them, but then a bunch of the men called Sihtric's name, to which Sihtric grinned and greeted them by saluting, and the bikers all did the same.

'What the fuck was that?' you laughed, 'you know those guys?'

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed softly and kissed your lips.

'Seriously?' you frowned, 'how?'

'I just know them,' he shrugged, 'everyone who owns a bike in this town knows each other.'

You knew of the unwritten rule that every biker always greeted each other in passing, even if they didn't know each other, but you were mildly concerned that the biker gang knew your boyfriend by name. You decided to drop it as Sihtric pulled you in for another kiss, and then asked if you were ready to slowly head back home again.

You were almost home when Sihtric had to stop and wait at a traffic light. You heard another biker approach behind you, who pulled up next to you and Sihtric. The man, whose face was half covered by a bandana, greeted Sihtric with a handshake. They talked a little, but you couldn't hear them over the sound of the engines and your helmet covering your ears. You felt a little uneasy as you noticed the man was part of the Ragnarsons, as you recognised his eyepatch from earlier. 

You held onto Sihtric tightly without noticing you squeezed him, and you watched him shake his head a few times, as if agitated. Then you saw the man reach into his pocket. He took out a few clear, sealed bags with some white substance inside, and handed it to Sihtric, who seemed to reluctantly accept it and shoved it inside jacket. Sihtric made a threatening gesture with his hand to the man before the light turned green, and then they both rode off in a different direction. You couldn't help looking over your shoulder as the distance between you and the biker grew, but you were left with a nauseating feeling.

Sihtric parked his motorcycle on your driveway and you carefully got off, handed him his helmet back and he followed you inside again. You went into the kitchen for a drink, and you soon felt Sihtric sneak up behind you, his arms around your waist. He pecked your cheek and neck, holding you tightly, and you tried to bite your tongue, but you couldn't hold it anymore. It bothered you how Sihtric seemed to act as if the whole encounter with the biker never happened.

'Was that a friend?' you suddenly asked, 'the guy at the traffic light?'

'Something like that,' Sihtric smiled as you turned to face him.

'Oh,' you nodded, 'so… what did he hand you? It seemed so random,' you tried to not show your concern.

'Just some stuff, love.'

'What kind of stuff?'

'None of your business stuff, lady,' Sihtric said, jokingly, and he kissed your lips.

'Well, now I'm even more curious,' you feigned a smile.

Sihtric smacked his lips and sighed softly. 'Baby,' he said, calmly, 'trust me, it's better if you don't know, okay? You weren't supposed to see that. And I'm sorry.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Just,' he shook his head lightly and clenched his jaw, 'just leave it, darling,' he said and gave you a sweet smile.

'Was it drugs?' you blurted out.

Sihtric looked at you and licked his lips. Then he looked away and raked his fingers through his hair, groaning softly.

'Do you use drugs?' you just couldn't help yourself, the words seemed to spill out without your control.

'No,' he said curtly, 'I do not use drugs.'

'So you deal then?'

Sihtric didn't answer, he just stared into your eyes.

'Sihtric, I'm not an idiot. I know how-'

'Lady,' Sihtric said sternly, 'drop it, okay?' he looked at you with big, almost threatening eyes, 'don't pry, baby, not when I tell you to leave it. Forget what you think you saw. Trust me, it's best if you do.'

'What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I'm not prying,' you scoffed, 'you took me out for a ride, you knew I was there when you took whatever that guy gave you. You knew I could see it. Of course I am going to ask about it, you can't possibly think that the whole encounter wouldn't make me suspicious?' 

'It shouldn't have happened!' Sihtric snapped, 'he should've never fucking approached me! Not when he saw you with me, because we know the risks and we don't take them. The last thing I wanted is my girl getting mixed up in all this shit, and he did exactly that. He dragged you into it and I will make him fucking pay for that!' he spat.

You stared at Sihtric. Your boyfriend; the hot mechanic, the sexy biker and… apparently also a drugsdealer.

'What is that supposed to mean? M-make him pay?' you asked quietly, terrified of his answer.

'There are things you shouldn't know about, for your own safety,' Sihtric said, 'but I promise you,' he cupped your cheeks, 'I will never let anything or anyone get in between us, or put you in danger. Not without consequences, you got that, baby girl?' he stared down into your eyes, your back pressed against the kitchen wall, 'I will do anything,' he whispered, 'anything, no matter what, to keep you safe. I will do anything to make everyone understand that no one, no one, comes up to me when my girl is by my side,' he said as your the tips of your noses were touching lightly.

'I- I think you s…should go home, Sihtric,' you said softly.

'What?' he frowned, 'what do you mean?' he scoffed lightly, 'babe, you've been away for two months, I- I don't want to sleep without you tonight.'

His voice was calm but his eyes betrayed he was hurting, and slightly panicked. You didn't speak for a long moment, you just stared into his eyes, realising that you truly did not know who he was. 

Everything had gone so fast. You fell in love so hard, and then the accident happened and you became more or less inseparable, but you never truly knew much about Sihtric. He barely spoke about his private life, or his friends, or anything he did outside of work. You suddenly had no idea who you had actually shared a bed with all this time, if you were honest.

'Love,' Sihtric said carefully, 'don't… please don't ask me to leave.'

'I don't know who you are,' you whispered.

'What are you talking about?' Sihtric smiled weakly, concerned, 'you… you know who I am, lady. I'm your man,' he kissed your cheek and you froze in his arms.

'I think it-it's better if you go home tonight…'

Sihtric felt you became distant, and he took a step back, inhaling sharply to compose himself.

'So… so that's it,' he said, 'you're … you're breaking up with me then, like this?'

'What? No, I never said I want to break up with you. I just… I,' you paused and swallowed hard, 'it just seems that I don't really know you… how can I feel safe with someone-'

'You don't feel safe with me?' he interrupted, clearly hurt.

'How can I feel safe with you?' you asked, visibly upset, 'I don't know anything about you. You seem to be in some shady business you don't want me involved in, but now that I know something is up, I can't just ignore it. Maybe some girls are into that whole mysterious bad boy shit, but I'm not, Sihtric, I want to know the truth. And if you won't tell me…,' you shrugged lightly.

'You want the truth?' Sihtric said, wide-eyed, 'sure, okay,' he sniffed and cleared his throat, 'yeah, I deal drugs. I'm part of that biker gang and I deal drugs, it's really as cliché as it gets,' he said.

He would usually never tell this, but the thought of losing you tonight was unbearable. He'd rather get hit by a car again, hoping it's fatal this time, then walking out your door with a broken heart. 

'O-only drugs?' it was the first question you could come up with as you stared at him.

'No,' Sihtric sighed, leaning back on your kitchen table, 'there's drugs, fake passports, knives, but no guns, I swear,' he said, and continued as he avoided your eyes, 'it's just all kinds of crimes really, love. And I'm sorry,' he said, barely louder than a whisper.

'What were you thinking?' you asked, 'were you planning on hiding this forever, or…' you scoffed, 'that I would never find out?'

'I hoped I could keep you away from it,' Sihtric said as he looked into your eyes again, 'long enough until I could get out of it.'

'Get out of it? Sihtric, I wasn't born yesterday. I know you don't just simply get out of a club like that. Is that why you don't wear a cut? To hide it from me?''

Sihtric looked down at his feet, knowing you were right and he was only fooling himself here. And the truth was that he didn't even want to get out. He loved this life. He lived for it. He needed the thrill and had been part of that gang ever since he was barely old enough to get his motor licence. He didn't want to leave it behind. But then he met you, and everything changed for him. He fell in love and, for once, he was finally loved back. He was terrified to tell you all about him because he knew this was exactly what would happen. You wouldn't trust him anymore or want him near you. And the more you'd know, the more dangerous it could be for you.

'No,' he said, 'cuts are not legal anymore as it provokes fights. But we all know who is who in this world.'

'Of course. Anything else I should know?' you scoffed, shocked by the amount of lies and secrets you were finding out all within a day.

'The guy who hit me with his truck,' Sihtric said, calmly, 'it wasn't an accident.'

'What?' your eyes couldn't possibly grow any wider, and you thought you misheard him, 'what did you just say?'

'It wasn't an accident,' he said again and looked up at you, 'it was retaliation. I don't know if you've heard about that warehouse that caught fire a while back, over at the nearest city?'

'Yeah, I heard about that,' you felt yourself become furious, remembering reading that article and thinking it was ridiculous when you saw it was a feud between rival biker gangs.

'I did that,' Sihtric said, 'me and Uhtred, the president of our club, we lit that place up after they trashed Uhtred's bike because we wouldn't do business with them. And they took their revenge. It was dumb luck, the guy just happened to see me and decided to hit me. It wasn't planned, he just took the opportunity.'

You stared at him, shaking with anger and hurt, speechless.

'And… in the hospital, when you weren't allowed to visit me yet, remember?' he continued, 'they only allowed it because,' he sighed, 'because we basically run this town, and people are afraid of us. Of me. Of Finan too,' he said, 'Finan is part of it too. The Irish side of the club. He never told you anything either about me or the club. It's not his place. And,' he chuckled lightly, 'now you'll understand where all these scars come from. Or where I got the money for my new bike.'

You took a deep breath.

'G-get out,' you said with a trembling voice, 'get out of my house.'

'Honey, wait,-' 

'Get out, Sihtric. Now.'

'No,' Sihtric took your hands and trapped you between his body and the wall, 'please, love,' he whispered, desperately, 'baby, don't make me leave. I need you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I never wanted this. I never wanted to involve you in this.'

'You lied to me for months,' you said and tried to get out of his grip.

'To protect you, I swear it.'

'You almost fucking died!'

'But I didn't!' Sihtric said firmly as he held you in place, 'I didn't die. And I love you. Gods, I fucking love you, baby,' he continued as he teared up, 'I need you. Please. Please don't break up with me, baby, please. I… I can't fucking breathe without you,' he let out a sob, 'I don't know how to breathe without you,' he sighed and stopped fighting his tears.

You felt helpless, stuck between your heart and your brain. Wanting to kick him out and never seeing him again, as well as wanting to keep him close and safe, because he did make you happy. He makes you feel loved, appreciated and desired. And despite everything, you did feel safe with him. Even now. And the worst part was that you loved him. You fucking loved him.

'I… I need time,' you said, almost inaudible, 'I need time to process this.'

'I can give you time,' Sihtric sniffled, cupping your cheeks, 'but stay with me, please, s-stay,' he whispered and pecked your lips, 'stay with me, baby,' he kissed you again, 'I need you, I love you, I can't think straight without you. I promise my life is so much more than the shit you've seen so far, it's not always this dark, I swear. Don't let me go, please.'

'I- I love you,' you sighed, weak, allowing his lips on yours again as your hands pulled him closer, having no control over yourself. 'Sihtric,' you moaned softly, and slid your hands under his hoodie.

'My love,' he moaned softly against your lips, his hands in your hair as he pressed his body against yours, 'oh, baby. Fuck,' he groaned and kissed you, 'my pretty lady. Hm, I love you so.'

'I love you too,' you whispered, 'but I… I need time, babe,' you said, desperately trying to keep your self control, 'I need time alone, just a little,' you said, 'even if it's just an hour or so, but I need it.'

'I know,' Sihtric cooed, 'I will give you time, my love,' he kissed you again, 'I'll be going for a ride, okay? For like an hour or so, good?'

'C-come back to me?'

'Always, love,' he whispered, 'I will always come back to you.'

'Where will you go?' you asked as Sihtric wiped your tears.

'I don't know yet, honey, just riding around town. Clearing my head too.'

'Okay,' you whispered, tugging his jacket lightly, 'be safe, babe, please. Don't do anything rash.'

'I'll be safe, I promise,' Sihtric smiled softly, 'I promise, promise, promise,' he said in between soft kisses, 'I love you, lady.'

'I love you.'

You had gone over your thoughts a million times when you were alone, and your heart simply won each time. You loved Sihtric and you wanted to be with him. No matter what.

And after about an hour and a half later, you heard Sihtric pull up your driveway, and you jumped up as he shut off his engine. You opened the door and ran to Sihtric as he walked up to you.

'Baby, stay back!' Sihtric said quickly, and you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw it. When you saw Sihtric. 

'It's not mine. So s-stay away until I'm cleaned up,' he said, his face splattered with blood, which apparently wasn't his.

And his hands. His big, rough, strong hands, the same ones he used earlier that day to pleasure you so perfectly, now completely soaked with someone else's blood.

Someone who was not alive anymore right now.

That someone being the guy who handed Sihtric the drugs when you were with him, therefore breaking one of the most important rules of the Ragnarsons MC; never do business when someone's lady is around, and if you did it anyway, you would face the consequences.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @n4tforlife

[searchingsomewhere]

All Too Well, Part 18

{"Don't know how much more I can take. I just know that I need to get better."}

Cw for some descriptive very mild gore? Just throwing it out there.

poly!Gojo x OC x Geto

All Too Well Masterlist

Part 17

Suguru Geto was not well.

He hadn't been, since that summer. And he was only falling further into the spiral.

The man who was hired to kill Riko was named Toji Fushiguro. Was named. That past tense was important to note, as he was no longer alive. Suguru later learned that, while he had dragged his body over to Miho to check for her pulse, Satoru had gone after the assassin. Refusing defeat and delirious from blood loss, the then sixteen year old Gojo heir had done what his peers failed to do and killed the man.

Miho was nearly dead when Satoru stumbled down there, pressing his hand to her chest to rush Reversed Cursed Energy through her body before he collapsed next to them. Suguru could do nothing but lie there between them, crying quietly. Praying to whatever god was listening. Begging for karma to take him instead of them.

The extensive damage Toji did to Miho's spinal cord had nearly paralyzed her. It took almost eight months for her to walk again with specialized care from the school doctor and Shoko. The doctors told her it was unlikely she'd ever walk without a cane.

Yes. Suguru Geto was, in fact, not well.

Everyone tried moving past it. Even Miho, who he cheered on as she was learning to walk again. Who still worried over him while telling him that she was fine, even though he caught her crying and telling Satoru she wasn't sure if she could continue physical therapy. And Satoru...he was leagues above them. The tether that had been holding him back with the rest of them had broke. The gap between his skill and Suguru's was wider than ever. They were no longer evenly matched. No longer the strongest. That was a title meant only for the white haired boy with the Six Eyes.

When Suguru tried to look at Miho, all he saw was her covered in blood. Blade striking through her chest, ripping through flesh and bone. He could still hear it. The sicking crack of her ribs shattering, the splash of her blood against the floor as it gushed out of her. She couldn't remember, but he did. At night, when he closed his eyes, he saw her lying on the ground, glassy eyes staring lifelessly at him.

"Even with those blessings, you two were still beaten by a monkey like me who can't even use cursed energy."

He couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. Something dark had been stirring in deep in his chest for so long. It was forcing itself up his throat and out of his mouth. A nasty, acidic, bile-like taste for humanity. A humanity that used children like weapons. That protected the weak and held back the strong. That sacrificed innocent, bright lives for the sake of Jujustu society. And the humanity that required those sacrifices for the simple sake of keeping the calm-

A loud knock on the door roused him from his endless session of staring at the wall. Suguru looked over at the door before rolling back over in bed. They'd go away soon.

The door opened. Light flooded the dim room. Three shadows peeked in.

"Suguru?" Satoru asked quietly, poking his head in. He looked over at the bed. "Hey, man. Mind if we stop by?"

Suguru rolled over to face him. He tried his best to give him a smile, but it was tired. "Of course."

He knew he looked different. Gaunt. Exhausted. He briefly wondered if his appearance would scare them off. But Satoru came in anyway, followed by Shoko. He heard the soft tap tap of Miho's crutches as she slowly made her way into the room. She had cut her hair recently. It hung to her shoulders now, sweeping to the side. She was cute. Suguru knew that, under their clothes and even further under their muscles and bones, both his girlfriend and boyfriend had scars that would never quite heal.

Satoru sat down on the side of the bed. "You okay?"

His voice was soft. Gentle. I'm here, it said. I see you.

Shoko reached over his bed to open the window. Sunlight filtered in, lazy and warm. She opened the window and took a seat on the sill.

"We're worried about you," she said, lighting a cigarette. She held it out to him. He took it and nodded to her in thanks.

Suguru sat up, patting Satoru's hand. He pulled his legs up, making room for Miho. Satoru took her crutches from her and set them down before helping her onto the bed. Suguru noted the pain that flickered across her face as she moved. Miho straightened her face, smiling at him with that beautiful, welcoming smile.

"We're here for you, Suguru," Miho said, reaching out to grab his hand.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "You're the one we should be worried about, Miho. I'm fine-"

"You're horrible at lying," Satoru scoffed.

He took a hit of the cigarette, holding it in for a second before slowly exhaling. His friends were looking at him. Watching him carefully.

"I'm just...struggling," he admitted finally, "I've been having nightmares again...about him."

The four of them sat in silence for a moment. Miho squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. So he did. He told them about his nightmares, the spiral he was falling into. Maybe it was the cigarette, or the way they all hung on to his every word, but getting it all out there felt good. He couldn't see a way out. That's what he said.

"...by a monkey like me who can't even use cursed energy."

But he knew what he needed to do.

"If you want to live a long life, you'll remember that."

He couldn't take it any longer. Something in his subconscious snapped.

[justcommander]

Well, I did get asked to write a little more about my little Father and Children AU.

Some little facts about this unusual trio? Of course, under the cut!

This is long. I'm gonna warn you, this is a whole lot of rambling.

This trio won't stay a trio for long, once Lisa and Father Garcia will reach John. Michael won't be happy to see one of the two. But will eventually accept his presence.

So, we started with Michael, a little more about him. The boy is not doing too well, but is also getting better now under John's care. His hair started to grow back but won't ever be as fluffy and soft as they were before: now they're coarse and grey. If they get grabbed and pulled, they fall right off in thick tufts. His nose is completely gone and he his right leg is permanently wounded, making John's knee look perfect in comparison. So he walks with the help of a crutch. He already got cataract, because of the infection in his eyes. Those sunglasses are a gift from the priest and he refuses to take them off even for sleeping.

Why wasn't he brought to a hospital? Well, John is terrified by those places and can't be the one to bring him there, risking to have police taking him back in for being a suspect for kidnapping and harming a kid that they've been looking for.

But why won't he go back to his parents exactly? They should be still alive. And they are. However, there is a number of motives why he won't do it. He's afraid to return to them now he loos like this, they've never been very caring towards him, and yet he also doesn't want to put them in danger now he got involved in something so much bigger than him. He thinks John is truly the only one who can fight demons and he loves him a lot. To him he's more of a father, than a Father.

How did he convince John that he does not have parents to return to? Easy: He lied about his name. He claimed to be called Michael Garcia. Unfortunately for him Father Garcia manages to contact John and this leads to a lot of misunderstandings. And confusion.

He speaks Spanish, yes. Though uses mostly English because John doesn't understand it. Only when he gets agitated or feels strong emotions of any kind, he slips. Or when Amy starts speaking Latin, he begins to speak Spanish to her. And John loses his mind when they do that.

-

Amy now!

Amy was saved by John just a little too late, but not that late. When he found her, her face had already been carved out but no offering was made. John made good use of that "one bullet" by shooting at Gary, and stopping him before he could continue with the ritual. Yes he shot Gary. Without knowing what he had just done. He took Amy away from him and wrapped up her face in bandages. He narrowly got away with his life and Amy safe in his arms.

What does this mean for her? It means she cannot be exorcised fully, even if he tries, because her body is dead. There is a portal to hell in her face, but without the sacrifice it required, nothing can truly come out. What kept Amy alive was the awareness of having John there for her, caring so much. The Second Death had never happened. The death of the soul was prevented because she never stopped fighting, when he arrived. Despite the pain and everything she lost. He was still there. The UNSPEAKABLE is inside her, but his control is weak. So weak, that she takes over without him even realizing, when he thinks to be the one in control in certain situations.

This means she can use those supernatural powers, stealing them from him. But the longer she does it, the more she risks to lose herself. Every night, she is afraid he could take over while she's asleep too , that's why she does not want to take off that straightjacket and specifically asks to be restrained. John can't bring himself to do it, he's afraid of that thing. So Michael does this instead.

-

Basically they both Love John so much. He gave them a reason to live, he put his life in danger to save them so they will fight for him even if they're frightened by the cultists and by Gary. They're just kids after all. But their Father also became their father, for both of them. They might be scared, but they won't let anyone take him away. In those moments when John's life really is at risk, that's when neither of them would hesitate and jump at those cultists's throats.

Anyway, they are very hard to handle, and they know it. When john faints on the chair after three sleepless nights, they try to put him on the couch and cover him with a blanket. They try to cook, they try to tidy the place. A little apology, for realizing they've exhausted him to this point.

And I wrote way too much. I warned you. This was a ramble. Ops? Maybe I'll write more in the future, when I'll learn to write more by writing less. Gosh, I talk too much.

[therandomfandomme]

Biking is accessible movement

Biking is a very accessible mode of transportation and way to exercise, however I think a lot of people don't know that, since there are a lot of countries, who don't have the right infrastructure (which is sad). So, this post is me showing y'all how biking is very accessible.

I am writing this from the perspective of someone with mild chronic pain, so I don't know the ins and outs, I have just seen all these bikes around on the streets, because here in the Netherlands they are very prevelant. I do want to say that biking is far easier on my joints than walking, except the knees, even with my unmodified bike.

An accessability feature that is not the bike itself, but often seen in traffic are the signs for hard of hearing people, which can be attached to the back of the bike to let others know that the person won't respond to audible traffic cues and to be careful.

1. Not having the muscle mass or lung capacity for intense exercise

Electrical bikes used to be mostly associated with senior citizens, however in recent years it has become more popular with high schoolers, who have to bike long distances to school or adults, who don't want to arrive sweaty at work. They can either assist you or do the biking for you. Normal electric bikes can go up to 30 km/h, but the recently popular fatbike can go up to 60 km/h (which is a hazard and should be regulated, but I digress). Every bike type that follows after can be an eletric bike.

2. Needing back support

Of course not everyone can sit on a bike, whose seating gives no support and for those there are lying bikes. Though being able to get up and down from a pretty low seat, which is less.

3. Not having the balance for biking

One big thing with bikes is balancing, which is something I struggle with (shout out to physical therapy for helping with that). Once I'm on the bike it is easier for me, but I struggled a lot with getting on and off the bike for a while as well as balancing in general, so I had training wheels for a lot longer than most of my peers.

Luckily, there are a lot of options for people who have bad balance or for whom getting on and off a bike would be more of a struggle. A fatbike already makes for easier balance, however for more aid you have tricycles for adults, which are pretty common. And an extra wheel can also be put on a lying bike.

4. Mental disabilities that limit safe independence in traffic

Not everyone can be in traffic unsupervised due to mental disabilities or brain damage, so not everyone can bike on their own. However, there are many ways to bike while having someone there for safety.

A tandem might seem like a gimmick to some, but it can allow someone to bike without needing to take into account all the moving traffic. And the dubble bike, which is more often used as a fun thing for tourist to explore a city while being able to chat, can provide the same for those with bad balance. If the person in question is smaller than the person supervising, such as a child or little person, than there is also a bike attachment for any bike with a luggage carrier.

5. Using a mobility aid

A lot of people think that you can't bike when using a mobility aid, however biking is not the same as walking, so should your body allow it, biking is possible.

If a person uses a cane or crutches there are ways to hold them in place. A walker can also be attached to the back if it is foldable. If a person is in a wheelchair (depending on what kind) then a hand bike is an option, which allows for higher speeds than moving regularly, while not taking more energy. A person with a wheelchair can also be transported with a bike, if they are not able to move through traffic independently (i have been informed that this is for kids, so thank you for that addition).

6. Lifestyle makes it more difficult to bike

Some people can ride a bike, but aren't able of biking, because they have kids, pets or need to move more stuff. However, there are ways to still use a bike in those circumstances. Popular among people in busy cities with more than one kid is a cargo bike. A cargo bike is also avaible with three wheels for extra balance and both can be electric. For pet owners the trailer is more popular, since a pet cannot jump out of it, though I've also seen plenty of babies and toddlers in them. Both these options can naturally also hold stuff.

Of course I totally understand that not everyone is able to bike and that not everywhere there is the infrastructure necessary. I am just passionate about it and I think that a lot of people might not realize that biking can be more accessible than it is often portrayed. I might have missed something, so feel free to add if you find anything and I would love to hear thoughts or just reactions :D

[prospectivehero]

THIS IS SO IMPORTANT GUYS!

First and foremost, I have two confessions. One, I haven't read Red Hood: Outlaws WebToon. It's on my list, but I will admit that I'm missing context. Two, though I talk about disability, my main focus is physical walking disabilities. This commentary should apply to every physically disabled human being if I'm doing this correctly, but I chose to have a specific focus for the sake of brevity.

I'd have very few nickles if I could have one for every time I saw a wheelchair-dependent character get suddenly healed. But it's still too many nickels. I can't blame Marvel or DC for my poor relationship with my own mobility aids. It didn't help anything to see Barbara Gordon or Charles Xavier suddenly be able to walk after seeing them for so long in their wheelchairs. Recovery and recuperation should never be scoffed at. We should celebrate when we can accomplish difficult goals and be happy for others who achieve what they thought was impossible. But these characters' changes aren't about recuperation. They're about ignorance.

Recuperation doesn't always mean full recovery from the viewpoint of a disabled person. Sometimes, "walking quickly" or "standing independently" isn't the end goal. It's usually more complicated than that. Small things like strengthening the core or practicing distance walking in a walker are crucial for someone's health or mobility. If it means they can walk independently in the process, then cheers! But sometimes standing isn't a possibility anymore. Many able-bodied people, without this context, may perceive this attitude as "giving up." I've had to explain to several different people that my choosing my wheelchair over my crutches to be a more functional human is not the same thing as quitting. But society has a model for success, and that model has a healthy set of legs.

Growing up, it broke my heart when I saw a character who had to experience a permanent and life-altering disability being suddenly cured. That's not a story of recuperation. That's a writer trying to "fix" something that was "wrong". I don't think the writers mean that as an insult. It's a terrible trope that's rooted in ignorance. But that ignorance is commonplace. It makes self-acceptance all the more difficult for a person who doesn't have full use of their body. Instead of being a person in a room who happens to use a wheelchair, that person suddenly becomes a paria because they are "physically incorrect."

Barbara Gordon, still paralyzed, marrying Dick Grayson is important. In their most standard form, weddings are supposed to be beautiful and romantic. Most of us dream about being the most beautiful, best versions of ourselves that we've ever been for one of the most special days of our lives. Barbara was the best version of herself when her father wheeled her down the aisle. She was Batgirl and is now Oracle, but she never stopped being Barbara. She is loved by her father, her adopted family, and her husband. The saccharine nature of that scene had nothing to do with a disabled woman being loved by an able-bodied man. It was a sappy, beautiful wedding being celebrated by our favorite dysfunctional found family.

I'm honestly really excited to read this webtoon. It is about Jason Todd, but the care and respect Patrick R. Young shows in this scene and how well it was depicted by Nico Bascuñán says a lot about how they handle the rest of whatever story they tell in this comic.

[zarvasace]

Took a somewhat terrifying drive down muddy roads on the mountains today, so I came home and relaxed with a hot shower and drawing. (should've been writing oops)

I finished the set! It's Fourrrrrrr

Okay first of all wheelchairs are easier to draw than I thought but still kind of difficult. I know this isn't perfect, and I definitely want to redesign it later to look more fantasy (though the structure will still be modern), but I was kinda freaking out tonight so I didn't worry too much about it this time. Look forward to a post later detailing the wheelchair a bit more :)

After his first adventure but before the second, Four got thrown around while Minish-sized and sustained a spinal cord injury that gave him paraparesis. Paresis is also called partial paralysis—Four can only sort of move his legs. Most days, he uses the wheelchair (he and the Minish 1000% tricked it out), but on good days, he has two pairs of forearm crutches to choose from! The chair folds up and gets stuck in his magic bag when he doesn't need it.

(aside: I personally enjoy the idea that each Link has an extradimensional space somewhere, in a bag or a hat or a boot. I just want them to carry things around without being overencumbered or reliant on Wild's slate.)

Four can't walk without support, but he gets around just fine. It's pretty common for him to park his wheelchair at the edge of camp and just gets down to do stuff. If they're pressed for time or he's tired, he might let someone carry him, like up the stairs to a tavern room or to a tree during an ambush so he can snipe. He doesn't have a lot of pain, just weakness and the loss of sensation.

When he shrinks down, so does the chair, because magic. However, splitting doesn't duplicate the chair. It also messes with the injury. All four of Four have paraparesis, but to very different degrees, following the trend of his personality splitting into somewhat uneven pieces. Vio gets the brunt of it, almost full paraplegia, so he sticks with the chair. Red gets it about as bad as Four has, and is generally good with the crutches. Green gets it a little better, and uses crutches too (that's why they keep two pairs around.) Blue gets the least of it and is pretty much entirely ambulatory. He feels a little guilty but takes his role as a protector seriously.

PLUS PLUS he already has fingerless gloves!

Sorry this post got so long! I have so much I want to say! Four's one of my favorites, and my own experience with disability dealt with mobility issues, so it's pretty close to my heart. With all nine introduced, I'm not sure what the next post about this AU will be, but ask box is open for questions, thoughts, and screaming. :)

[fellow-queer-birdguy]

Really long ramble about ahead!! feel free to read! (also there's a TLDR at the end)

The reason why I feel like I can't get a "better" mobility aid (I really want forearm crutches since the cane doesn't feel like it's enough stability and support anymore) is because I'm scared of walking "too comfortably". Now, I'm pretty sure there is no such thing as walking "too comfortably", there's no reason for me to feel bad about wanting to walk without pain, but I do anyway?

I mainly think this thought process comes from internalised ableism (example; "that person is using a mobility aid! they are being lazy!")and it makes it really hard for me to even use my cane because it makes me feel like I'm a faker and I'm just "lazy". None of which is true. I just want to walk so that I'm not in pain!

And every time I remember people usually aren't in pain when they walk I realise just how much I need support and help. The fact that the majority of people around me see walking as an usual and worry-free activity while every time I have to go somewhere I worry about if I'll be in pain and how badly it's going to affect my week. It's very exhausting (And this is not even mentioning all the other symptoms I have).

I really miss when, a few years ago, I was able to run around and walk long distances. heck, I was even in a long distance jogging class in school. And now I can't really do that. It feels really weird, almost like grief. And I wish people would take me more seriously when I say stuff, but also, I have such a hard time understanding that what I am experiencing is not normal and that causes me to not take myself seriously, and I guess that also fuels the internalised ableism I'm dealing with.

I look at people around me with envy and awe. Everything they do is easy for them, their not in pain all the time and when they do have pain a simple pain killer helps. It all just feels so unfair.

I do need help and support from the people in my life, but I'm just so scared I'll be looked at differently or seen as weak. Or that they don't understand how much this unexplained disability is affecting my life. I personally don't think I even fully understand.

But I do understand that I need to speak up and explain to doctors what I'm dealing with so that they can help me. I'm just so scared, I'm not used to being listened to. I'm not even going to talk about how hard it is when I try to tell anything to my mom.

And then it gets even more complex when I think about it just going away and then I'll be "back to normal". At this point I'm so used to being in pain that the thought of not being is scary. I hope it makes sense. I do hate being in pain, but it's my every day life. I don't think there is a "magic solution" to it, but some people around me seem to think that. And I hate being wrong, so if one of the solutions would actually "cure" me I would feel so bad for not doing it earlier. I have no idea if there's a word for this experience but I have a feeling it's related to my autism.

But yeah, I general I just feel so much about my physical wellbeing right now, since I'm soon turning 18 and then everything will start to cost money. Also I've been thinking about this years pride event, I've been worrying since last year because we had to stand for almost 3 hours last year. I could still manage then, but I don't know if I could manage now.

I am really thankful for the community here on Tumblr for being so supportive and feeling like a home.

TLDR; I feel like I can't walk pain free or get a "better" mobility aid because of internalised ableism. Also I grief all the things I can't do anymore and how unfair that feels. And I'm aware of how badly I need to tell my doctors about everything. also I'm afraid of being "magically healed" even though I know it's probably not possible at this point and I'm so used to my pain. I'm soon turning 18 and I don't know how bad or good my situation is going to be by then. AKA too much stuff is happening in my life right now.

I think I've rambled enough now, thanks for reading.

[urbancripple]

so. I (17) had a TBI 2 yrs ago that I'm still recovering from that wrecked my vestibular system along w a bunch of other shit. I use forearm crutches for balance and that's been fine for me and my pt hasn't recommended anything else. my mom just bought me a wheelchair from the thrift store?? not only without me asking, but with me having told her for weeks not to every time she brought it up. I have no idea what to do now? there are very very rare times when I've used borrowed ones from the mall or museum we're at on a trip where I really can't do the walking for so long, but bringing one that's *mine* just feels wrong to me when I haven't been prescribed one? idfk. looking for advice from the community ig.

I doubt a thrift store wheelchair is going to be helpful. I'm guessing it is one of the hospital-style ones that's hard to push. There are health-risks to using a chair, especially one that isn't built for you and may not have been very well maintained.

But if the chair does help you, there's nothing wrong with using it, even if the chair wasn't built for you specifically. I wrote a whole guide for new chair users, if that helps.

Either way, don't stress over it.

[thewritingbeforesunrise]

BALLERINA - Chapter Five.

A Jake Kiszka AU

Physiotherapist!Jake x Original Female Character

Previous Chapter.

A/N: I apologise for not posting this yesterday but a total blackout occurred in my town due to strong winds and I didn't have WiFi or data traffic.

Anyway, this is a very important chapter in the story and I am so happy to be able to finally share it with you. I really hope you like it as much as I do.

I can't wait to know what you think about this!

If you are interested, you can join my general taglist here.

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings for this chapter: kissing, talking of physical rehabilitation and medical stuff (I am not an expert, I apologise for any inaccuracies), poor mental health, sadness, fluff, soft!Jake at his peak, beware.

_________________________________

Two weeks passed and Iris could almost walk alone without crutches and she felt almost safe in doing so. Jake was teaching her to walk more steadily on her injured leg, avoiding limping. It was a bit difficult for her to keep her balance but they were moving forward with rehabilitation.

She was happy but she always felt so tired.

At night she couldn't sleep properly.

She woke up every few hours because of constant nightmares.

She kept dreaming about that car hitting her in the middle of the street on that cold February night.

She couldn't stop the sound of screeching tyres and brakes from echoing into her ears every time she closed her eyes.

She knew her sister was still studying so she tried not to bother her too much.

She didn't want to bother Jake, either, even though he had told her to do so without problems.

Sometimes, she even woke up crying because, in the dreams, the doctors told her that she would never go back to dancing.

That was Iris's biggest fear and, even though Jake was helping her and the doctor who had operated on her said that he couldn't tell her if she would be able to dance again or not, she was growing very nervous about that matter.

Even the weather seemed to be plotting against her, that Friday.

It was pouring with rain and the sky was so dark that she had to keep the lights on even though it was barely mid afternoon.

As soon as Jake arrived, he noticed the tiredness in her eyes and asked her about it

He entered the room with a gleaming smile but it sharply faded away.

His expression changed immediately when his eyes landed on her. He was worried as he approached her bed.

"Hey, Iris are you OK? You look very tired and a bit ill, I'd say." His warm wrist touched her forehead lightly, checking her temperature, and then dropped to his side.

He sat down on the chair close to the bed and asked "Is there something wrong?".

The expression of worry in his kind eyes broke her heart.

He was worrying for her.

Iris told him that she was fine and that it was the weather's fault.

He didn't seem satisfied with her answer but he didn't push it.

They worked for two hours together on many difficult and tiring exercises and then he left her to herself, with his usual kind words of encouragement.

The touch of his hands on her body, paired with his soothing deep voice, cheered her up just a little, but her mood worsened again the moment he exited her room, leaving her there alone at the mercy of the whirlwind of her thoughts.

She already missed him the moment he set foot outside her room, but unfortunately she had to wait until Monday to see him again.

~

It was eight pm and it was still raining outside.

The sound of heavy drops on the windows was relaxing and Iris was almost drifting off to a deep slumber when she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in" she said, thinking it was her mother, but instead, she was met with a pair of deep brown eyes and a gleaming smile.

Jake was there.

He was wearing a black long sleeve shirt and black joggers.

Iris supposed he had just finished blow drying his hair because it was still slightly damp on the ends and the smell of his usual vanilla shampoo was very strong.

It was intoxicating her in the best way possible.

The inside of the room was immersed in the low orange glow of the lamp near her bed. That light made his skin and hair glow in a delicate way, making him look like the most beautiful angel that had ever graced the troubled Planet Earth with his comforting presence.

She didn't expect him to be there so late.

He laughed at her puzzled expression.

"Surprise!" He told her, his gleaming smile even deeper than before.

In that moment, she noticed he had a paper bag with him along with a stunning white-rimmed a black acoustic guitar.

"Am I missing something?" She asked him, very confused and he laughed.

"No, darling, don't worry. But since I found out that you have been lying to me the whole week, not telling me that you couldn't sleep because you were afraid to bother me, I decided to take the matter into my hands and come to bother you instead." He told her with a glint of mischief in his eyes and Iris blushed the deepest shade of red ever.

He came closer to her and set his guitar and bag next to the wall behind the bed.

Then he turned towards her and grabbed her chin gently between his thumb and pointer finger.

His skin was hot as always, but her face was more. Her eyes were cast down on her lap but his grip on her chin caused her to look up at his face.

God, he is breathtaking, and so close.

"Now, I told you you could bother me, didn't I?" He spoke and she felt the urge to answer him even if she didn't want to.

"Yes, you did," she told him sheepishly.

"I meant it, you know, I don't like seeing you struggling like this, so I brought something to cheer you up and cheer me up in the process, because this weather got me depressed today." He said and bent to grab the paper bag.

"So my mother always tells me that the answer when we are tired and upset is..." and he dragged out the 's' to create suspense, while he rummaged inside the bag.

"Chocolate!" He whisper-shouted.

"I didn't know what kind of chocolate you liked so I bought a bit of everything." He spilled the content of the bag directly on her lap and she was genuinely shocked.

There was everything and even more.

She didn't know what to say and her silence worried him.

She saw his content expression change slowly into a look of pure horror.

"Oh my God, I was so focused on bringing you something to cheer you up that I didn't even think about the possibility that you didn't like chocolate at all." He said worried and kept running a hand through his hair. He looked so cute.

She quickly stopped him from worrying too much by laughing.

"No, no, Jake, I absolutely love chocolate. I simply… I don't know what to say, I hope thank you is enough." She said laughing and he did the same after putting a hand on his chest.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack." He said with a sigh, still chuckling.

Iris didn't want to let him see how much that simple gesture affected her and she had to bite her tongue to prevent happy tears from spilling down her flushed cheeks.

So she began rummaging through the absolutely immense choice of chocolate on her lap.

After some pondering, she picked a dark chocolate bar with hazelnuts that was her absolute favourite, and he picked a extra-dark chocolate bar.

Iris knew he would choose that.

It suited his personality beautifully.

Deep, rich and warm. Absolutely addicting.

She blushed at her thoughts and busied herself putting everything back into the bag.

She told him that he could sit down on the chair next to the bed and once he was settled she started opening her chocolate bar and he did the same.

She took a bite and melted like the chocolate in her mouth at the voluptuous taste. It was heavenly and it reminded her of her grandma and her childhood.

"This is exactly what I needed. How did you know?" She asked him, curiously, after a while, fearing what another second of silence could cause her thoughts.

"I haven't got any superpower darling, I am just following my mother's advice" he said while munching slowly.

She lost herself watching with mesmerized eyes his jaw clenching and unclenching while eating and then she quickly lowered her gaze to her nails once he caught her staring.

After some minutes of silence filled with stolen glances and chocolate bites, she spoke.

"Thank you, Jake, I really mean it" she told him and he bowed playfully, saying "At your service" and making her laugh.

Three shared chocolate bars later, he stood and gently took the guitar from the wall, telling her that he had another surprise for her.

He sat down and placed it gently onto his lap.

"It's really beautiful" she told him, her eyes never leaving him to take in his breathtaking beauty.

And after that, she let a thought slip out loud, without noticing.

"That's where the callous fingers come from" Those words spilled from her lips before she could stop herself.

His eyes had again that mischievous glint in them, when they focused on her, observing her closely while she blushed.

Then they turned sweet again.

Iris watched as he touched the strings lightly and then retrieved a guitar pick from his pocket.

"I thought this could help you relax a bit, so you can fall asleep easily without thinking too much. How does it sound?" He said while tuning his guitar.

"I'd love that" she told him but that was an understatement.

She couldn't take her eyes off him and when he put his pick between his lips, she felt like her soul left her body in that instant.

He started to pick at the strings with his fingers, his face bent slightly forward and the tip of his hair grazing slightly on the fretboard.

It was the hottest sight she had ever witnessed.

She felt wetness starting to pool in her panties and she forcefully tried to stop thinking about it.

She had always found finger-picked guitar extremely sexy, but this was something else.

He was something else.

Watching him, she felt trapped between heaven and hell.

The song he was playing was so calm it almost made her cry and she couldn't believe how talented he was.

She focused on his fingers and immediately wished she hadn't.

She imagined how skilled those fingers could be, doing something else entirely and she blushed.

The way he curled them, pressing the strings on the fretboard looked heavenly and sinful at the same time.

When her mouth started watering and she started imagining his fingers in her mouth, she forcefully decided it was time to avert her eyes if she didn't want to get caught lusting on his fingers.

So Iris closed her eyes and let the music submerge her.

She saw herself dancing along with it, moving languidly and fluidly.

At that moment, her mother's voice echoed in her mind, replaying the words she had accidentally let slip some days ago during an argument.

"Stop thinking about dancing"

And, in that moment, it dawned on her.

I will never be able to dance again.

Silent tears began falling down her cheeks.

He didn't notice, his eyes were closed and he had a blissful expression on his face. He was feeling the music too deeply to notice her sliding off the bed and paddling silently to the bathroom.

Iris didn't want him to see her cry so she tried her best to be as silent as possible as sobbs shook her body violently. Her trembling hands were covering her mouth as she slid down the wall and on the floor.

Everything that she had kept inside for more than a month exploded in a flood of tears she couldn't stop.

Iris didn't notice the music stop and she couldn't see him because her face was buried in her hands.

But he was kneeling at her side in less than a second.

His frightened whisper broke her heart.

"Iris, hey, what's wrong? What's happened? Did you fall?" He fired those questions rapidly and all she managed to do was shake her head no.

Then she felt his hands on her, warm as always and so very soft.

His touch made her shiver. One of his hands was on her back and the other behind her bare knees, as he picked her up easily. Her arms silently wrapped around his neck steadying herself and her mouth accidentally brushed on the skin of his neck.

She felt goosebumps raise on his skin as she sobbed in his neck, soaking his shirt with her tears.

He took her to the bed but kept her in his arms as he sat down on the mattress, draping the blanket he had gifted her around her shaking form.

She cried all of her tears.

He didn't say anything, he just stroked her back and her hair waiting for her to calm down.

After a good while she didn't have any more tears left and she just sobbed in the crook of his neck.

She tried to talk but her voice came out croaky.

So, she cleared her throat and started apologising profusely to him.

"I am so sorry, I am a mess, I am so sorry, I didn't want to ruin everything"

He stopped her and whispered calmly.

"There is no need to apologize, just please tell me what happened, did I do something I shouldn't have?" He asked, concerned, and new tears started to wet her cheeks.

"No, you are perfect, you didn't do anything wrong Jake and I am so sorry if I made you think that." Iris whispered, trying to dry her tears with her sleeve.

He was holding her tightly, trying to calm her down, his proximity clouding her senses.

"Tell me, what happened?" He asked, again.

She couldn't lie to him, after what he was doing for her.

She took a deep breath and spoke.

"The song you were playing was so beautiful… and for the first time in weeks, it made me feel alive. I felt the need to dance again alongside it and then I remembered I couldn't and probably I won't anymore. That thought devastated me and I didn't want you to see me cry and stop playing so I tried to hide but failed miserably, I am so sorry." Iris confessed, ashamed, hiding her face in the crook of his neck again.

She felt so safe in his arms, she wished she could stay there forever.

She felt his hands cradle her face and he looked at her in the eyes.

"You nearly gave me a second heart attack tonight" he said smiling and she laughed timidly.

He wasn't finished and went on.

"I want you to know that I am going to do everything I can and more to help you, ok? You have my word, Iris." He whispered and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I don't want you to hide your emotions from me ever again, please talk to me and I will help you try to figure things out." She started apologizing again but he shushed her immediately with his pointer and middle finger on her lips.

His demeanor slowly changed, he had again that glint in his eyes that attracted Iris like a moth to a flame and the ache in her body worsened.

He went on in a husky tone that made her thighs clench.

His eyes dropped to her parted lips behind his fingers.

"And, I swear to God, if you don't stop apologizing, I will make you, understood?"

She almost started apologizing again but his fingers on her lips dropped, soon replaced by his thumb stroking lightly on her bottom lip, parting it further and then sliding down to her chin, holding her in place.

"Don't defy me, darling" he commanded, his raspy voice having the worst effect on her.

He was impossibly close and she wanted him to take her right then and there on that bed.

She didn't care anymore at this point. She just needed him.

She didn't care that they were in the middle of the hospital with thousands of people surrounding the two of them.

For her, there was the two of them.

She couldn't take it anymore, she needed him to do something, anything.

"Just kiss me, please" she begged him in a whisper and his eyes darkened even more.

"No need to beg, love, but I appreciate it." He whispered looking at her lips.

Iris felt bold and desperate so she grabbed the neckline of his shirt and pulled him towards her.

His lips were finally on hers.

It was the best feeling she had ever experienced.

It started slow and careful but soon it became hot and passionate.

He tasted like dark chocolate and she could pinpoint a little hint of smoke, too. His lips were so soft on her chapped ones. When his tongue brushed tentatively against hers, she whimpered softly spurring him on.

His hands gripped her hips and then slid slowly down to her ass, trying so hard to be gentle and, at the same time, touching more skin as possible.

Her panties were positively sticking onto her right now, but, for once, she knew that the situation was affecting him just as much.

Since she was still on his lap she felt him growing hard in his joggers.

The feeling of his lips moving in sync against hers was like the flame of a candle slowly drawing closer to her skin, becoming every second more intense.

She felt a tingle coursing through her spine, for the entire kiss.

A shiver of anticipation ran through her body when his hand slowly slid down her throat but an unexpected knock on the door interrupted the both of them.

He jumped away from her as fast as lightning as if her lips had burned him.

Iris threw him her sweater so he could cover himself and she covered herself with the blanket.

"Come in" she said, her voice quivering.

It was a nurse, she wanted to check if everything was alright and when she saw Jake her smile widened.

His charm was working on her too.

"Oh I am sorry Dr. Kiszka, I didn't know you were here this late." She told him, embarrassed.

Iris decided to speak first, despite the deep blush covering her cheeks.

"It's entirely my fault if he is here. I thought something was wrong with my leg, I was in pain and worried and I called him. He was so kind to come and check on me even if it's this late" she lied, trying her best to be believable.

"Isn't it Doctor?" She didn't know why but she addressed him like that instead of using Jake, like he had asked her to on the first day they met.

His eyes darkened just a little bit and his grip on her sweater in front of his crotch tightened imperceptibly, but she noticed and bit her lip.

"It was nothing. She is alright, I will leave soon" she heard him say to the nurse. His voice was just a little bit shaky.

And then she left, saying goodnight.

The moment the door closed, Iris sighed.

"That was close" she muttered.

She didn't notice him approaching.

"We should stop this while we can, I am afraid she will say something to Doctor Allen. I don't want to be the reason he fires you." Iris told him, heartbroken, but thinking about the importance of his job first.

He came closer, placed his hands by her hips on the bed and observed her with a sad expression in his eyes.

He looked heartbroken, too, but agreed with her.

"I think you are right, I am not his favourite here, so I bet he would use anything he can against me." Jake said while running a hand through his hair, defeated.

Then he came even closer, and whispered into her ear, his lips brushing intently on her skin.

"But if you dare calling me doctor again, I won't be responsible for my actions, is it clear?" His tone made goosebumps rise on her skin and he smirked, noticing.

Iris almost let a feeble "I am sorry" slip but, when his smoldering eyes met hers, she bit her bottom lip.

He sighed and untucked it from her teeth with his thumb.

"You'll be the death of me." He whispered.

For a second, she thought he was going to kiss her again but then his eyes mirrored the sad expression in hers.

Iris really didn't want to be the reason why he lost his job.

"It's better if we stop things while we can, I am sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you, it's entirely my fault." He whispered, sadly.

"It's not entirely your fault, I asked you to" she retorted, embarrassed, but he continued.

"You were feeling down and I took advantage of the situation, I shouldn't have." Jake said adamantly, blaming himself for everything that had happened that evening.

Iris tried to remark that it wasn't true but he shushed her, with his pointer finger on her lips.

"Please don't make this even harder. Let's pretend this never happened." He said with a pained tone.

His lips connected with her forehead in a chaste kiss that had her heart swell and her eyes water.

She tried to be strong and she squeezed his hands in hers, but a little tear escaped, nonetheless.

"Jake" she whispered.

His eyes met hers, worried and sad.

It was torture seeing him like that.

"I… I wanted to tell you that I am extremely grateful to have met you. Without you…I would have never made it. So thank you" Iris managed to say, her voice was so shaky she was surprised that he understood what she was saying.

She saw his eyes start to water too, but when he spoke, his voice was so steady.

"Don't say that like it's the last time we are seeing each other, darling. We have many months of rehabilitation ahead of us." He winked and she laughed, drying her tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

"You mean a lot to me Iris, you have no idea." He finally said.

Then he gathered his guitar, told her to keep the chocolates, kissed her on the cheek and left.

That night Iris didn't sleep a wink, every time she tried to close her eyes, the feeling of his lips on hers haunted her.

At 4 am, she grabbed her phone and wrote him a text.

Then decided against it and deleted it.

She couldn't know that he was experiencing the same struggles as her in his own bed.

~

During her last week of hospital, he acted as if that night never happened.

Iris was a bit angry about it, but, at the same time, the rational part of her brain was grateful for it.

She really didn't want to be the cause he lost his job, it was better this way.

On her last day in the hospital, she was very happy and so he was.

During their two hours of rehabilitation together, they revised some exercises and then chatted a lot like two friends, as if nothing happened.

But Iris couldn't deny what she felt when his hands touched her body.

He reduced her to a shivering, stuttering and blushing mess and he noticed it very well.

He was pleased to observe the deep effect he kept having on her.

"This is the address of my rehabilitation studio. Is there someone who can take you or do you need me to come to your house, or else, do you need me to come and bring you myself?" He said kindly, untying his hair, to keep his hands busy and avoid stupid choices, for once.

She noticed that his studio was very close to her house.

Perfect.

"Your studio is very close to my flat. So I think that for the first weeks my mother can take me, but I think that I will be able to walk there." She told him.

He smiled at her, that heartstopping smile that enraptured her the first time she saw him.

"Wonderful! So I will see you on Monday afternoon at my studio. I am very happy with what we achieved here, I was very impressed by how hard working you are. I am very proud of you, Iris." He told her truthfully.

She couldn't help it, she grasped his shoulders and hugged him tightly.

He was quick to wrap his strong arms around her, squeezing her and enveloping her in his usual warmth.

Eventually, she had to let him go, but he didn't go away. He grabbed her bag and escorted her to the hospital hall where her mother was waiting for her.

Iris waved him goodbye and he winked at her making her blush and giggle like a schoolgirl.

______________________________

A/N: Don't worry, this is not the end. Next chapter will be 🔥🔥, I promise.

______________________________

Taglist: @why-ami-on-here @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @jessicafg03 @sparrowofthedawnsworld @doodle417

[seiko-yume]

Bishop headcanons

This is a long post, so I'll cut it here for anyone who isn't interested.

EDIT: added Narinder since he's technically a bishop too, and I have a few more HCs for him that I didn't make during the time of the Narinder and Lamb HCs.

Leshy

Physical age is stuck in his early 20's

Absolutely minuscule in size compared to the other bishops and followers (Shorter than Heket and Lamb)

Likes to put his hands in a raptor formation

Hates being touched in any manner (ex: being pet, or picked up)

Experiences sensory overload more often than before becoming a follower due to his heightened sense of smell and hearing when he went blind.

Burrows underground when he feels discomfort, or on the verge of a meltdown.

Vegan, cannot digest meat or any animal food product.

Enjoys gardening, even though he can't see. He likes the different smells and textures of plants.

Extremely quick to resort to violence in disagreements with other followers.

Goes apeshit over rain (he really likes rain)

Heket

VERY subtly petty, and knows exactly what'll make you tick.

Can crack open an ostrich egg in one punch

Will absolutely hold her own on a crusade, without being turned into a demon.

Learned sign language from the Lamb, since speaking causes her pain.

Transgender MtF

Food-motivated, loves to cook. Developed from a famine-causing goddess to hating seeing any follower go hungry.

The only one in the Old Faith family without any kind of food allergy, or dietary restriction.

Heavyset build. Height is similar to Narinder's

Sleeps long hours, and is late to nearly every sermon.

Exclusively T4T due to bad experience with transphobic people.

Physical age is stuck at 25

Loves bathing and soaking in water.

Narinder

Middle child syndrome (gets forgotten by the other bishops, but is legally allowed to bonk them for it.)

While chained, his legs were broken to prevent him from escaping easily. They weren't able to heal correctly. He currently uses forearm crutches, or a cane to get around.

Second tallest next to Shamura

Very thin build from naturally high metabolism. Heket tries to feed him more, but his body just turns it all into pure rage instead of fat.

Demiboy. Uses both he/him and she/her pronouns.

Lactose intolerant, but eats dairy-based dessert anyways. Constantly has IBS from this and can fill an outhouse halfway. Followers beg him to stop eating dairy (he doesn't and earned the "Poopshitter" nickname from Lamb.)

Severe allergy to fish and shellfish.

Likes to do makeup, and is actually really artsy with it.

Had an emo phase (and still is)

Severe guilt and self-loathing around his siblings. Feelings of guilt are especially intense around Shamura. Shamura tries their best every day to show him that they forgive him.

Gets stuck in a tree at least twice a week

Kalamar

The most dramatic of cult drama-queens. There's a new crisis happening with him every week.

Got a septum piercing after learning he couldn't reattach his amputated (pierced) ears.

Refuses to learn sign language, despite being deaf. He's exceptionally well at reading lips, however.

Monologues about how handsome, and beautiful his temple was, usually to himself because he doesn't realize that other members had walked away.

Accidentally discovered Narinder had a deadly allergy to seafood while Nari was a kitten. (He had to babysit him, and fed him fish stew because he thought cats liked fish.)

Doesn't like to do assigned work in the cult, but enjoys forging weapons and jewelry.

Very picky eater. Almost everything makes him sick. No known food allergies, but is known to be intolerant to meat, fish, dairy, certain vegetables, mushrooms, most fruits, and bread. He usually eats cauliflower soup to stay on the safe side.

Had several near-death experiences due to illness as a child.

Very lithe and underweight. Tentacles give the illusion of being heavier than average.

Physical age is stuck at 33.

Shamura

Severe migraines and memory problems.

Tries to dissent against the Lamb due to often forgetting the entire chunk of their life from Narinder's betrayal to dying at the hands of the Lamb.

Has crying fits upon recalling parts of their life they forgot, and fears the next time they'll forget.

Clings to the other siblings, needing constant physical reassurance they're still alive. They're unable to sleep alone.

Had to re-learn basic motor skills including how to speak when they were first indoctrinated.

Knits and crochets in their spare time.

Likes to watch dance circles, but avoids any activity that might cause a migraine.

Allergic to camellia flowers. Avoids farming and seeking the medbay when sick.

Taller than Narinder (HC Narinder is the tallest member before his siblings were indoctrinated)

AFAB

Has always yearned to become a parent during the time they were a god, but could never bear any children due to being infertile. When they found several infant gods, they couldn’t help but take them under their wing.

Physical age is stuck at 40

[bradenthompson]

The Starfield Experience II: The Freestar Rangers

While it's still fresh on my mind, it's time for episode 2 of my Starfield maiden voyage. Last time, I joined with the Crimson Fleet and got my sneaky fingies on a cool 200,000 credits. On this excursion, however, me and my first crewmate Mathis were honest men with no bounty. And we were gonna perform our community service by way of frontier justice.

"But captain," you say, a puzzled look fixed tight on your brow, "I thought you were playing an evil character." Don't you worry. I'm every bit as unhinged as I was in my pirating days. Because dialogue always gives me some completely bloodthirsty options, which I promise to choose every time. Crooked cop time babyyyyyy

De-escalation Tactics

We arrived in the town of Akila City (game is very loose with the distinction between Cities and Towns) just in time for a classic scripted Bethesda moment. We all remember walking into Solitude for the first time and seeing that guy on the chopping block. We all tried to save him, and all our level seven characters were lacerated on the spot. A storytelling crutch? Probably, but there's no reason it can't be effective. Plenty immersive to walk into a new settlement and already see some shit going down.

Just that type of shit was going down in Akila, as soon as me and Mathis got boots on the ground. Local bandits were holding up the bank, had taken hostages, and the rangers were outside trying in vain to negotiate. A tense situation indeed. Maybe two ruthless pirates who had just shot down a civilian ship on the way here can help.

I'd been pumping some skill points in speech, by now. Failed persuasion checks were getting on my nerves, but successful checks were making me feel cool. That and, on my brief trip to Neon, I had picked up a very goofy looking future suit that gave a passive 10% persuasion success. This is all to say I talked the bank robbers out the building, not a hostage lost.

While I was in town (Akila has some great music) I tried repainting my ship, thinking the Crimson Fleet colors would cause Mathis and I some problems out in space. How stupid of me to think the game would account for that sort of thing. You can land on Planet Police State with a ship painted the way only pirate ships are painted and nobody cares. Clue #1 that I could get away with a lot, within this faction system.

And speaking of factions, my success with the GalBank situation got me on the path to getting deputized.

I See You, Space Cowboy

First I had to talk to ranger Emma Wilcox, in the very cool space saloon. She wanted me to complete just one job before they considered letting me join up. Overachiever that I decided to be, sporadically, I took all four jobs the ranger kiosk had at the time, thinking I'd really impress by clearing the board. Rescued a hostage, took out a gang of spacers--real basic rng quests. The one where I had to kill a Crimson Fleet captain was funny. Mathis didn't like me doing that very much, despite us both quitting at the end of that questline. But as long as he stayed on the ship while I went out and split some wigs, he didn't mind. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, I suppose, but this begs another question: why can't I take criminals alive? Spoiler alert, but the rangers are gonna urge me to resolve problems without violence later. This peaceful justice creed does not extend to the rng quests. Okay.

But after completing all four and hitting myself bc no shit that doesn't make a difference, Wilcox saw potential in me and took me up to the marshal. Or who I have to assume is the marshal. That's Daniel Blake, pictured above, who gave me a dorky vest and a very cool pistol.

In hindsight, there's very little warmup to the questline's main problem. I was immediately sent off with ranger Wilcox to a farm that would prove to be the first victim of the overarching villain. There's this gang out in the canyon trying to 'wrassle away their farmland, say no more, we march down and make confetti outta 'em. The ship they flew in on was recently stolen from a company called HopeTech, which became our next destination.

Look Guys, Bezos did make it to space

We land at Hopetown, which I wanna imagine has a larger quest associated with it, but then again maybe that's what I'm doing right now. Seems to be one of the more intensely designed settlements in the game. We're essentially in a company town. Everyone here works for Hopetech, lives on a planet where the only thing around is their job, and carries an eerie devotion to the company and its founder. This is Ron Hope. He talks like an Oblivion NPC, which is to say too slow, and I earmarked him for death real early.

So I tell him about one of his stolen ships, he already knows, he wants me to keep it on the DL since it'd tarnish his brand if people knew ships could be stolen off the assembly line, yada yada. The conversation I was having with him here and now wasn't super important. What was important was introducing Hope as a character so him maybe/maybe not being evil later doesn't feel like it's outta nowhere. Well fuck me for knowing how these stories work, but of course he did it. I don't even know what 'it' is, as of right now, but I know it was him. Why else would we be meeting him so early? The butler did it.

We're off to Neon next, where I understand most stolen ships wind up. A player may deduce this on their own through normal gameplay; if you're one to plunder ships and sell them off, Neon is one of the places to do this. Either that or critically thinking. Neon's the only city that abjectly sucks, according to context clues. In case I wouldn't know, I'm told explicitly to head to Neon.

I head to Neon. With quickness, because now I know how fast travel works (tip: you can select objective markers while you're out in space and, should it be a system you've already been to, you'll fast travel without opening the map). Meeting up with a fellow ranger whose name I forget but--spoiler alert--it doesn't matter, I'm led to mechanic Billy Clayton, whose name I remember for some reason. He wants to help us but is currently having a Bethesda Moment (we need to do something for him first). That thing we have to do is clear up an outstanding debt with a loan shark. Alone, I march to the warehouse said loan shark operates from, don't even open up a dialogue, immediately spray the office with bullets, and return to Billy. Good news, Billy! Debt problem's been fixed!

Thankful, he points us in the direction of a noted ship thief named Grace. She's a brick wall. Won't give up nothing bc she ain't scared of the fuzz. That is until I pass a persuasion check and she immediately buckles under the pressure. Persuasion skill continues to be totally absurd. But for our efforts, she hands us an encrypted slate that, should we be able to crack the encryption, will lead us to her contractors.

The* Plot* Thickens*

It's not that I didn't know what was going on. Rather, by this point, I was certain the game would never trust me to figure things out on my own. I double-checked: there's in-universe museums that spells out a lot of the lore. Some of which being pertinent to reveals later in this questline. Odds are slim most players would be brushing up on Starfield history of their own volition, and look, I get it. Really, I prefer getting this sort of shit through questlines. But by this point I was feeling a sort of... monotony? I'm gonna be told what to do and where to go regardless of whether or not I intuit these things myself. There's little incentive to do anything but precisely what the quest givers tell me. Speaking of...

That ranger on Neon whose name I forget tells me there's someone on Akila who may be able to crack the slate. His name is Alex Shadid and, dude, I liked him a lot. On sight. He's socially awkward, dreams of being the type of person who goes clubbing on Neon which is cute, and he's good with computers. Alex was my first and really my only pick for a second crewmate, when this questline finished up.

I pass the slate off to Alex and report back to Daniel Blake. Based on clues in my previous field work, Daniel is running with the theory that the crew responsible for this ship theft (stealing one ship and harassing one farmer is still the impetus of the entire story) is one called the First. A company of veterans from the Colony War now doing mercenary work out in the stars. Daniel used to serve with them, and knows of two supposed members: Maya Cruz and Marco. Maya's our first target, as someone matching her description just booked an emergency surgery and extended stay on a space station hospital called The Clinic. Off to the clinic, then!

Two quick things before I divulge this super exciting Maya Cruz quest:

>Whenever I speak to Daniel Blake, while there's no outwardly "evil" dialogue choices to make, there's good cop/bad cop options. Do you want clean justice or do you wanna repaint the walls of your ship in the blood of outlaws? I always picked the most violent things to say to Daniel. Always some version of "I'm going down there and making orphans of all their children!" and at no point does the Sheriff think I may be a problem. He, nor anyone in the rangers, ever thinks less of me for being completely unhinged and hostile.

>I've been dabbling in the ship builder and, hey, Todd: why can't my ship have wings? Been all over looking for wing parts and there's not a one. I consulted reddit, damn you. Don't try none of that "uh but but but atmosphere" bullshit. This is not a realistic space sim, we ain't Kerbals here (that game DID have wings!!!!). Before launch, I was dreaming of what my ship would look like, and it always had wings. Let me add wings. If you do DLC that adds more ship parts, deliver me my wings plz thx.

Oh, and the Maya Cruz quest is pretty boring. There's one interesting moment where you gain access to her private hospital room and find the surgeon dead on the ground, but after that it's flying off to a derelict planet and trouncing about in a cave up to a very lame encounter with Maya, who says something or other about whatever bullshit idk. I shot her.

Polo.

Thankfully, the hunt for Marco has some teeth. There's a ranger at a remote club called the Red Mile. It's a real rough place (everywhere in Starfield is a real rough place, Red Mile, can I get ya to try harder).

The ranger in question is Autumn Macmillan. She's a Starfield NPC, so she's immediately callous and rude. I'm mean right back, so ig it evens out. She doesn't know where Marco is, but suspects the club's owner, Mei Devine, does. To get to her, we have to provide the club with some entertainment. The titular Red Mile is a dangerous gauntlet that wasn't all that dangerous bc I'm doing this at an above average level. So I run the Red Mile no sweat, Mei is pleased, tells me where Marco's ship is currently parked.

Before I leave, Autumn runs up to be and actually apologizes for being an ass earlier. I was also an ass but don't have the option of apologizing. Game unconditionally sides with me. Okay, I'll take it. Me and Autumn are cool from then on out, and I zip off to meet up with Marco.

It's now, at the top of the questline's last third, that things get interesting. I was ready for a dogfight, hearing that Marco is hiding out on his spaceship, but no. He's parked on some obscure planet and willing to have a chat. Sounds like he wants me to know something important?

That important thing is rangers are dweebs and being a mercenary is awesome. He's even ready to give me the location of de capo di tutti i capi on the condition we let him go. Since I'm ready for the story to keep chugging along regardless of my actions, I massacre his entire ship and get the final location anyway. Hardly knew ye.

With the combined slates of Grace, Maya Cruz, and now Marco, Alex Shadid has the information necessary to triangulate the location of the First. Daniel Blake orders me to head down there and raise hell. Well, not in those exact words, but it's a Bethesda game. Of course it's gonna be a fight.

The Black Rifle Coffee Company

Well ain't my predictions all fucky.

Thought for sure, with all these ranger characters I was meeting and the precedent set by the Crimson Fleet story, that all the rangers were gonna back me up in this final raid. Nope! Going it alone. Not even a ranger. Still just a deputy. But whatever, I still got my main man Mathis.

We buy some more guns and touch down on Arcturus II. Mathis and I step out, enter the large doors of an abandoned mech factory, and are greeted by the intercom voice of First boss Paxton Hull. He lays out his motivation, and I'm curious whether this was intended as a serious morality check.

In essence, the First are, as stated earlier, veterans of the Colony War. Their main point of anger is an event in the final moments of the war they were about to secure total victory for the Freestar Collective before both sides declared a truce. They're still mad about this. I'm supposed to be sympathetic to their position (maybe) as forgotten "heroes" of the war, despite their primary motivation being "well one time we killed a thousand civilians but we wanted to kill a million."

I wasn't so hot on these guys. Even as an evil character. They reminded me too much of Operative Culture. Yk, those guys who did (or maybe pretend to have done) military service and, perhaps as a means of coping with a lot of abject atrocities the US army commits, circle the wagons and perceive all violence as justifiable. Y'know who I'm talking about. Their pro-gun beliefs are based in a nonsense John Wick fantasy, or adjacently related "wolves, sheep, and sheep dogs" bullshit. Am I wrong to project this on the First, here? I don't think so. They get no sympathy from me, the guy who shoots people if it progresses the quest slightly faster. Their grudge is based in not "winning" the war by their own fucked up definition.

My character sure is one to talk but, in fairness, Mathis and I were gonna light this place up regardless of any sympathy for the First. Which we did! It's quite the gunfight. Lotta NPCs. I haven't spent a credit on ammo since.

We shoot out way to Paxton who, in a funny bit of characterization, can't help but be impressed by our ability to mow down his whole organization. He knows he's toast but wants to die fighting. Before doing so, however, he passes off a slate. The contract for stealing the ship from HopeTech (yeah, one stolen ship is still the main thing here) was ordered by none other than--

Oh, no kidding

It was Ron Hope all along! I have Mathis kill Paxton (just want him to feel involved) before throwing the bitch (spaceship) in reverse back to Hopetown. Marching right inside, we catch Ron Hope in the middle of praising a low-level mechanic for something or other. Uh-uh-uh, not gonna work on me. I KNOW you did... hold on, lemme remember. You... oh yeah. You SWITCH THE SAMPLES orchestrated your own ship theft in order to...

I'll be honest, I kinda needed Hope to explain why he's the baddie. Yes the ship theft was an inside job, but to what end I wasn't sure. If I have it correct, Ron let the First steal the ship so he would also look like a victim, which would throw us off the scent of him, and please follow along, selling farmers bad fertilizer that would demolish their farmland but leave behind soil that had a lot of otherwise useful minerals. He would then chase these farmers off their land and develop it into HopeTech... something or other. I'm not saying it's badly written. I'm sure it lines up with the lore and everything. But man, I was waiting for that [attack] prompt to pop in somethin' brutal.

But I am given a choice: take twenty-thousand credits worth of hush money, arrest him without violence, or kill him on the spot. How the other two options shake out, I can't say, because obviously I chose killing his ass dead. And his security escort! That employee he was praising earlier had mixed feelings about this. Our ensuing conversation when something like this:

mechanic: Ron Hope is dead!

me: he sucks and deserved to die

mechanic: I guess?

me: yeah

mechanic: okay bye

Now to go explain this all to Daniel Blake. Hoping he takes the whole "I killed Rom Hope" thing well, since Hope was a sitting member of the Freestar Collective's top brass. A ranger killing him would be very, very bad.

It matters very little

Sure, Daniel was pretty annoyed that Hope is dead, but I did have the slate Hope made ordering the First to steal the ship, among other things, so I killed him without consequence. I'm even promoted.

Deputy in a stupid vest no more! I'm now a Freestar Ranger in full, ready and able to take exactly zero ranger missions from this point onward. I'm given a cool spacesuit, a rifle I'm not gonna use bc I don't have any skill points in rifles, and a badge I cannot equip. Only look at in my inventory. But I am a ranger! I am a ranger! I am a ranger!

I'm shocked to find Alex Shadid cannot join my crew. Not that he isn't allowed. He's just not available to be recruited. Excuse me, I thought his introduction of "hi my name is Alex Shadid and I've never been to space in my life but oh I would just love to see the stars" was setting me up the ball. But no. And no other rangers at Akila are recruitable either. But that doesn't mean no rangers are...

Turns out, back at the Red Mile, Autumn is more than happy to hop on my ship. Yup, my second crew member is a ranger who thinks I'm dirt. Except now all her canned dialogue is eerily polite. But I say fuck it. Hop on my ship, Autumn, and let's never go back to the Red Mile again. Everyone is very mean there.

It's now me, Mathis, and Autumn, on my--oh yeah, I nearly forgot. My other reward for becoming a ranger was a brand new, probably overpowered for this point in the game, spaceship. Capacity for five crewmates. Best of all?

ITS GOT WINGS.

In Conclusion

While I can't say I was ever grabbed by the narrative, the moment to moment gameplay of the Freestar Rangers questline proved very fun. Lots of dudes to shoot, if that's your thing. It's got some engaging setpieces, takes you to a satisfying number of locations in the name of feeling big, but that's not without plenty of disappointments. The "villain" of it all feels unsubstantial, and really the whole story feels disconnected from the larger world of the game. It's got plenty to do with the Lore and all that, but at no point did it ever feel bigger than running errands. Crimson Fleet managed a far better climax in comparison, awful space battle notwithstanding. But the idea of Autumn being on my crew is funny enough to consider this a satisfying use of my Starfield time.

Next up, corporate espionage or: my god the stealth in this game kinda sucks.