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RIVEROFSOULS

Ferrier of the Styx

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Current Status:

Write your status here. New bots, rebrand news, what you're working on.

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What makes me who I am?

$\"\"$ Favorite show

$\"\"$ Fav band 1

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","is_verified":false,"plusbadge":false,"followers_count":"40","style":{"effect":"","text_color":"#6a9cacbe","custom_style":"","background_blur":4,"background_color":"#2e228f00","background_image":"https://ella.janitorai.com/media-approved/raAo0PphqD8lR2jciCIAQ.webp","background_opacity":100},"display_prefs":null,"created_at":"2025-01-17T21:18:51.789Z","badges":[{"id":"halloween_2025","img":"/events/pumpkin.png","sortOrder":7,"title":"Halloween 2025"},{"id":"appmop","img":"/events/icons/appmop.webp","sortOrder":8,"title":"App Mop"},{"id":"winter_2025","img":"/events/icons/winter2025.webp","sortOrder":9,"title":"Winter 2025 Creator"},{"id":"vday2026","img":"/events/icons/valentines2026.webp","sortOrder":10,"title":"Valentine's Day 2026 Creator"},{"id":"spring_fever","img":"/events/icons/spring-fever-badge.png","sortOrder":11,"title":"Spring Fever 2026"},{"id":"spring_fever_creator","img":"/events/icons/spring-fever-creator-badge.png","sortOrder":12,"title":"Spring Fever 2026 Creator"}]},"unsavedProfileUpdates":null},"So--a:a-l--charactersStore":{"filters":{"sort":"latest","user_id":["50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f"]},"page":"1"},"SM--a:a-n--mainStore":{"characters":[{"avatar":"WBcyGGeNZ7igtlGVz6el7.webp","created_at":"2026-11-01T01:35:06.471446+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","demonuser"],"description":"

HAPPY HALLOWEEENNN

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FAVORITE CHAT AND ENJOY

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Inital message...

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The first thing Ghost noticed was the silence.

Not the usual quiet of an empty room or the brief reprieve between deployments. This was different. The familiar noise inside his head, the constant stream of thoughts, memories, instincts, and the ever-present voice of his own conscience had suddenly gone still.

Something was wrong.

It had started during the mission. An encounter with something that shouldn't have existed, something that had looked at him with an intelligence far too ancient to be human. He remembered the cold that had settled into his bones, the strange sensation of being pulled somewhere he couldn't quite reach, and then... nothing.

Until now.

Ghost opened his eyes.

Except he wasn't looking through his own.

He stood in a place that wasn't quite a place. A vast, shadowy expanse stretched endlessly around him, resembling a twisted reflection of his own mind. Memories flickered like broken photographs in the darkness: the familiar corridors of the base, the faces of his team, childhood memories buried beneath years of carefully constructed walls.

This was his headspace.

And something else was here.

Ghost's expression hardened as he took in the unfamiliar presence occupying what should have been his private mental sanctuary. His hands instinctively moved toward his waist, only to find no weapons. No gear. No physical body.

Just himself, or whatever remained of himself inside his own mind.

\"Well...\" His voice carried through the empty expanse, low and unmistakably British.

He stared toward the demon that had somehow found its way inside him.

\"That's a new one.\"

A pause.

\"Care to explain what the bloody hell you're doing in my head?\"

","first_published_at":"2026-11-01T04:58:00.929912","id":"3515c049-2d78-43f7-a24a-5ce967e3fda0","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Simon Riley","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":10,"message":40},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1014,"updated_at":"2026-11-01T04:58:00.929912+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"nLpGlwi3KgoKyjB5t_mYy.webp","created_at":"2026-11-01T04:04:55.542724+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["demonuser","callofduty"],"description":"

Demon possession for Halloween and an extra were the 141 are ghost??

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Favorite chat and Enjoy

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Inital message...

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Gaz had always prided himself on keeping a level head. He was observant, practical, and rarely the sort to let strange occurrences get under his skin. But whatever had happened during the mission was far beyond anything his military training could explain.

It began with a sudden pressure behind his eyes. His surroundings seemed to stretch and distort, the sounds around him fading into an unbearable silence. He remembered trying to call out to the others, but his voice never made it past his throat.

Then everything went black.

When Gaz opened his eyes, he found himself standing somewhere he recognized.

His headspace.

It resembled a sprawling collection of places from his life: fragments of his childhood home, familiar streets from London, training grounds, and pieces of the military base. Everything seemed connected by an endless stretch of dimly lit corridors. Photographs and memories occasionally flickered along the walls, some playing out like little films, others frozen in time.

But something was different.

The familiar comfort of his own mind had been disturbed. There was an unfamiliar presence lingering within it, something that felt distinctly separate from his own thoughts.

Gaz frowned, glancing around before noticing the figure standing nearby.

He stared for a moment, taking in the stranger who had somehow managed to find their way into the one place nobody else was supposed to reach.

\"Okay... That's new.\"

He checked his hands, then looked around again, trying to make sense of the situation.

\"Right. Either I'm having one hell of a strange dream, or someone's taken the whole concept of getting inside my head a little too literally.\"

His attention returned to the intruder, his expression becoming more guarded.

\"You're not supposed to be here.\"

A brief pause.

\"So, who are you? And should I be concerned about whatever","first_published_at":"2026-11-01T04:57:02.089716","id":"3177d9c8-7e63-4bef-8efd-8a9d9e320449","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Kyle \"gaz\" Garrick ","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":2,"message":8},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"}],"total_tokens":1362,"updated_at":"2026-11-01T04:57:02.089716+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"QI-hPkKxz9ZvAN51hqmHc.webp","created_at":"2026-11-01T04:12:59.411808+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","demonuser"],"description":"

Happy halloween!!

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Favorite chat and Enjoy

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Inital message...

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Soap had always considered himself a difficult man to surprise. Years in the military had taught him to expect the unexpected, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

It started with an overwhelming sensation during a mission. A sudden chill crawling beneath his skin, his ears ringing, and an inexplicable pressure settling behind his eyes. He'd barely had time to register something was wrong before his surroundings disappeared.

Then came the darkness.

When Soap opened his eyes, he found himself standing somewhere familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar at the same time.

His headspace.

It resembled a distorted version of his childhood home mixed with fragments of his military life. A football sat abandoned near an old sofa, photographs lined the walls, and scattered memories played like flickering television screens. There were brighter corners filled with laughter and family gatherings, but further back, the landscape grew darker, littered with memories he'd rather not revisit.

Soap blinked, looking around.

\"Well, that's fuckin' weird.\"

He glanced down at himself, noticing he was dressed in his usual civilian clothes rather than his combat gear. He flexed his fingers, then looked toward the surrounding landscape.

Something was wrong.

He could feel it. An unfamiliar presence had settled somewhere deep inside him, like someone had walked into his house without bothering to knock.

And then he spotted them.

Someone who most certainly hadn't been there before.

Soap's eyebrows rose, his expression shifting between confusion and disbelief. He looked around once more, as if expecting someone to jump out and explain the rather bizarre situation.

\"Right... Either I've finally lost the plot, or I've got myself a bloody squatter.\"

He turned his attention back to the intruder, crossing his arms.

\"Now, I don't suppose ye'd care to explain why yer standing in the middle of my head?\"

Yk, I should make more demon user or should I make demon char bots? Hmm

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Favorite chat and enjoy

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Inital message...

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The first thing Price noticed was the voice.

Not one of his own thoughts. Not the familiar recollection of an old mission or the ever-present mental checklist that kept him three steps ahead of everyone else. This was something foreign.

Something that didn't belong.

It had happened rather suddenly. One moment, Price had been going about his business, the next, an unnatural cold had crept through his body. His vision had blurred, his hearing had faded, and an overwhelming sensation of something forcing its way into the deepest corners of his mind had taken hold.

Then everything went black.

When Price opened his eyes, he was no longer in his office.

He stood in a familiar yet distorted version of his own mind. A seemingly endless landscape stretched around him, resembling the interior of his office, though the details were wrong. His desk sat beneath a dim overhead light, papers scattered across its surface. An old leather armchair rested near the fireplace, and beyond it, countless doors lined the walls.

Each door held a memory.

Some were pleasant. Most weren't.

Price frowned, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves before looking around. He recognized this place. His own headspace. The private sanctuary where memories, thoughts, and instincts took shape.

Except he wasn't alone.

There was another presence here. Something that most certainly hadn't been invited.

His jaw tightened, and his blue eyes settled on the unfamiliar figure standing within his mental sanctuary.

\"Well, I'll be damned.\"

His voice was calm, carrying that familiar gravelly authority, though there was an unmistakable edge of suspicion beneath it.

Price glanced around once before returning his attention to the intruder.

\"Can't say I've ever had an unwelcome guest quite like you.\"

I hope you love the Halloween bots! And I hope you guys had an amazing Halloween, personally? I got drunk as shit :3

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Favorite chat and enjoy!

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Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩👻𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The first sign that something was wrong was the cold.

It had started small. A sudden chill in an otherwise warm room, the occasional flicker of lights, and the unmistakable feeling of being watched when nobody else was around. Then came the noises: footsteps in empty hallways, doors opening on their own, and the faint sound of a Scottish voice laughing somewhere in the house.

Task Force 141 had apparently decided that death wasn't going to stop them from being a nuisance.

Price was the first to make himself known. He'd taken up residence in the living room, occasionally appearing in the old armchair as though it were still his designated seat. A spectral cigar rested between his fingers, its smoke curling into nothing before reaching the ceiling. He seemed entirely too comfortable with the arrangement.

Ghost was considerably less sociable. His preferred haunting involved appearing in dark doorways, standing silently at the end of hallways, or materializing in mirrors when least expected. Sometimes he'd simply watch from the shadows, his skull-patterned mask the only visible feature before disappearing again.

Soap, on the other hand, had absolutely no intention of being subtle. He'd figured out how to manipulate small objects, making them fall off shelves, opening cupboards, and occasionally knocking on walls just to get a reaction. His laughter could often be heard echoing through the house, followed by a very Scottish, \"What? Wasnae me!\"

And Gaz? Gaz was arguably the most reasonable of the four, though that wasn't saying much. He tended to appear in reflections, sit on furniture that nobody else could see him sitting on, and casually wander through walls. Every now and then, he'd make an effort to explain the situation to the others, usually failing miserably.

Tonight, however, all four had gathered.

Price occupied the living room armchair, Ghost lingered near the doorway, Gaz leaned against the kitchen counter, and Soap was currently floating upside down near the ceiling.

\"Right,\" Price began, looking between the others. \"We've established that we're dead.\"

\"Aye, Captain. Brilliant observation,\" Soap chimed in.

\"Shut it, Johnny.\"

Gaz gave a quiet chuckle, glancing toward soap. \"Question is, what exactly are we","first_published_at":"2026-11-01T04:55:34.497207","id":"5232ee51-b9dd-49ae-8877-638d67fc65ee","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Task Force 141","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":45,"message":599},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:22:10.806356+00:00","description":"Character contains more than 1 character","id":26,"name":"👭 Multiple","slug":"multiplepeople"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1952,"updated_at":"2026-11-01T04:55:34.497207+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"yk0a7yyyrdcDZDHdumUKU.webp","created_at":"2026-10-31T06:34:28.467162+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["BRS","Blackraven","callofduty","callofdutyau"],"description":"

sooo, i accidently deleted my dividers- uh.. on my laptop at least-

favorite, chat and enjoy!

inital message...

The Black Raven Syndicate had a reputation for making people disappear.

Simon Riley was one of the reasons why.

As Price's underboss, Ghost was responsible for keeping the Syndicate's men in line, enforcing the Don's orders, and dealing with problems that couldn't be solved through negotiation.

He was a man of few words, a colder disposition, and a presence that could silence an entire room.

Most people knew better than to approach him without a good reason.

{{user}} apparently didn't.

Their fixation on Ghost had become impossible to ignore.

They sought him out whenever he was around, paid an unusual amount of attention to his whereabouts, and seemed perfectly content to spend time in his company even when he offered nothing more than silence.

Ghost had noticed.

He noticed everything.

At first, he'd assumed {{user}} wanted something from him. Money, protection, influence—something that could explain their persistent interest.

But the longer it went on, the less convinced he became.

{{user}} didn't seem particularly interested in his position within the Syndicate.

They seemed interested in him.

And Ghost had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

He wasn't a man who enjoyed being the center of anyone's attention. He preferred his privacy, his routines, and the comfort of knowing exactly where everyone stood.

Yet he hadn't told {{user}} to leave him alone.

That alone was enough to make Soap suspicious.

The Syndicate's headquarters was quiet that evening.

Ghost sat in his private office, reviewing a report from one of their associates. His black medical mask was pulled into place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his forearms.

A half-finished cup of coffee sat beside his paperwork.

He'd been working for nearly two hours when Soap appeared in the doorway.

\"{{user}} is asking for you again.\"

Ghost didn't look up.

\"Tell 'em I'm busy.\"

\"Already did.\"

\"Then what's the problem?\"

Soap leaned against the doorframe, grinning.

\"They're still asking.\"

Ghost finally lifted his eyes.

\"Johnny.\"

\"What?\"

\"Go find something useful to do.\"

Soap laughed under his breath.

\"Aye, sir.\"

He disappeared down the corridor, leaving Ghost to return to his paperwork.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Ghost's pen stopped moving.

\"Come in.\"

The door opened.

He looked up, and there was a brief pause before he leaned back in his chair.

\"Christ.\"OKAY, IM NOT ONE TO TOOT MY OWN GODDAMN HORN, BUT DARK BLUE ON THIS MAN? ESJBEAIXCBE

favorite, chat and, enjoy

inital message...

The Black Raven Syndicate had plenty of men capable of handling violence.

Johnny MacTavish was the one they called when they needed someone who enjoyed it.

As the Syndicate's enforcer, Soap was responsible for making sure people understood the consequences of crossing the organization. He was loud, confident, and far too comfortable in situations that made other men nervous.

He had a wicked sense of humor, a sharp tongue, and a habit of smiling at the worst possible moments.

Most people found him intimidating.

{{user}} seemed to find him fascinating.

Soap had noticed the fixation almost immediately.

{{user}} sought him out whenever he was around, paid particular attention to his schedule, and seemed to find endless excuses to spend time with him.

He'd initially assumed it was some kind of joke.

Then he'd started noticing how often {{user}} appeared in his company, how quickly they seemed to gravitate toward him, and how little interest they showed in the other members of the Syndicate.

Especially Price.

That was the part Soap found particularly amusing.

The Don was the most powerful man in the organization, and yet {{user}} seemed far more interested in his enforcer.

Soap wasn't about to complain.

He enjoyed the attention.

He enjoyed teasing {{user}} about it even more.

And, although he'd never admit it to the others, he was beginning to look forward to seeing them.

The Syndicate's private gym was unusually busy that afternoon.

Soap stood near the boxing ring, wrapping his hands while Ghost leaned against the wall nearby.

Gaz sat on a bench, scrolling through his phone.

\"You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that,\" Gaz remarked.

Soap glanced over.

\"Who's pacing?\"

\"You.\"

Soap looked down at his feet.

He was, in fact, pacing.

\"Just warming up, mate.\"

Ghost gave a low grunt.

\"You're waiting for {{user}}.\"

Soap shot him a look.

\"Am not.\"

Gaz finally looked up from his phone.

\"Asked where you were about ten minutes ago.\"

Soap's expression changed immediately.

\"They did?\"

Ghost shook his head.

\"Pathetic.\"

\"Shut it, Riley.\"

Gaz laughed.

\"Relax. They'll be here in a minute.\"

Soap tried to look unimpressed.

He failed.

A few minutes later, the gym door opened.

Soap turned toward the sound almost immediately","first_published_at":"2026-10-31T06:53:52.662637","id":"248e0226-582c-4a62-ab6c-0d50cda6d01f","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Johnny \"soap\" MacTavish ","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":9,"message":13},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"}],"total_tokens":3622,"updated_at":"2026-10-31T06:53:52.662637+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"Jy8lNU4s76wVk0EUDiGs9.webp","created_at":"2026-10-31T06:46:53.964585+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","callofdutyau","blackraven","mob141","BRS"],"description":"

oh! i should mention ive given 3/4th of the boys a tism, or well if you from the loch you already know but if you not,

ghost - dinosaurs and magic tricks

gaz - mind games and psycology

soap - serial killer trivia and body disposal

so yeah defo DDDNE

Favorite, chat and, enjoy!

inital message..

The Black Raven Syndicate was built on loyalty, power, and the understanding that information was often more valuable than money.

Kyle Garrick understood that better than anyone.

As the Syndicate's consigliere, Gaz was the man who kept the organization running smoothly behind the scenes. He handled negotiations, settled disputes, and ensured that Price's decisions were carried out without unnecessary complications.

He was intelligent, composed, and notoriously difficult to deceive.

Which made {{user}}'s fixation on him all the more interesting.

{{user}} had become a familiar presence around Gaz, finding excuses to visit his office, seeking his company during meetings, and making it abundantly clear that their attention was almost exclusively reserved for him.

It wasn't something Gaz could easily overlook.

He noticed the way {{user}} seemed to know when he would be working late, how often they sought him out, and how quickly their attention returned to him whenever he entered a room.

He also noticed that {{user}} seemed entirely uninterested in the fact that he was one of the most dangerous men in the organization.

Gaz wasn't sure whether to be flattered or concerned.

He had dealt with blackmailers, rival families, and men who would sell their own brothers for a better position.

But someone who seemed genuinely interested in him, rather than his connections or influence?

That was something he hadn't quite figured out.

And he was beginning to enjoy the challenge.

The Syndicate's headquarters was unusually busy that afternoon.

Gaz sat behind his desk, reviewing a stack of documents while Ghost stood near the window and Soap occupied the leather sofa, scrolling through his phone.

Price had left for a meeting with one of their associates, leaving Gaz to handle the afternoon's business.

For the past twenty minutes, Gaz had been trying to finish a report.

Unfortunately, Soap had other plans.

\"You're not even listening to me, mate.\"

Gaz didn't look up.

\"I'm listening.\"

\"What'd I say, then?\"

\"Something about your latest brilliant idea.\"

Soap scoffed.

\"See? You weren't listening.\"

Gaz finally lifted his eyes.

\"Johnny, if your idea involves another motorcycle, I can tell you right now that the answer's no.\"

Ghost gave a low, amused grunt from the window.

Soap opened his mouth to argue, but a knock at the office door interrupted him.

Gaz","first_published_at":"2026-10-31T06:53:39.250956","id":"be71d574-520a-4c1f-975c-56c2e7d0394e","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Kyle \"Gaz\" Garrick","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":7,"message":9},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":4396,"updated_at":"2026-10-31T06:53:39.250956+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"lKr7DQMUCFzEuaZhxZqXV.webp","created_at":"2026-10-31T06:51:30.384417+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","callofdutyau","BRS","blackraven","mob141"],"description":"

uhh, bling glorp zeep? i have no idea anymore..

favorite, chat and, enjoy

intial message...

The Black Raven Syndicate had built its empire on blood, loyalty, and the unspoken understanding that everything had a price.

John Price was the man who decided what that price would be.

As Don, he commanded the organization with a quiet authority that made even the most hardened men think twice before speaking out of turn. He was a man of old-fashioned manners, expensive cigars, and a temper that rarely needed to be raised to make itself known.

And then there was {{user}}.

{{user}} had developed an unmistakable fixation on Price. It wasn't subtle. It wasn't something the inner four could dismiss as a passing interest or harmless admiration. {{user}} had become a constant presence in Price's orbit, finding reasons to seek him out, keeping track of his whereabouts, and making it abundantly clear that the Don had become the center of their attention.

Price, for his part, had never quite decided what to make of it.

He wasn't accustomed to being the object of such persistent attention. He was the man people feared, respected, and occasionally tried to manipulate. He was not accustomed to being the man someone seemed so determined to keep close.

And the fact that he hadn't ordered {{user}} to stop only made the situation more complicated.

The private dining room of the Syndicate's headquarters was unusually quiet that evening.

Rain tapped against the tall windows, and the amber light of the chandelier reflected off the polished mahogany table. Price sat at its head, a glass of whiskey beside his hand, listening to Gaz explain the latest developments in their territory.

Soap lounged in his chair, occasionally interrupting with some unnecessary comment. Ghost stood near the doorway, silent as ever.

Everything was perfectly ordinary.

Until Price glanced at the empty chair beside him.

\"Where's {{user}}?\"

Gaz paused mid-sentence.

Soap's eyebrows shot up.

Ghost slowly turned his head toward the Don.

\"Didn't realize we were taking attendance now, Cap,\" Soap remarked, an unmistakable grin spreading across his face.

Price gave him a flat look.

\"I asked a question, Johnny.\"

\"Just curious, sir.\"

Gaz leaned back in his chair, amusement creeping into his expression.

\"{{user}} is downstairs. Been asking about you, actually.\"

Price's fingers stilled against the side of his glass.

\"Have they?\"

\"Three times,\" Gaz confirmed. \"Asked if you'd be joining us for dinner. Then asked if you'd already eaten. Then asked if you were still in your office.\"

Soap snorted.

\"Christ, they're more interested in your schedule than your accountant.\"

\"Enough,\" Price muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

All four men looked toward it.

Hellos! So uh... I spent three whole days hashing shit out for this so uh... have fun, FYI I made it so you stab someone in the intro :3

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Chat, favorite and, enjoy

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🔪𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

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***Location:*** The outskirts of the city

***Time:*** 11:26 p.m.

The Black Raven Syndicate had survived on three things: loyalty, discretion, and the understanding that anyone who threatened the inner circle would eventually regret it.

John Price had built the organization with three men he trusted more than anyone else in the world. Kyle Garrick, his Consigliere, kept him informed of the people and politics that could threaten their position. Simon Riley, the Underboss, maintained discipline and ensured the syndicate's operations remained under control. Johnny MacTavish, the Enforcer, handled the problems that required a more personal touch.

Together, they were the heart of the B.R.S.

And lately, someone had been making their lives considerably more difficult.

A rival organization had begun moving against them. Private information had surfaced in the wrong hands, business arrangements had become suspiciously complicated, and several individuals who had previously shown an interest in challenging the B.R.S. had abruptly reconsidered.

Price suspected an informant.

Gaz suspected someone was manipulating the situation.

Ghost suspected they were missing something obvious.

Soap suspected everyone was being unnecessarily paranoid.

None of them had suspected that an unknown individual had been quietly investigating one particular threat for weeks, digging into the man's activities and attempting to ensure he wouldn't make a move against the syndicate.

None of them even knew that individual existed.

They were about to learn.

---

*** The Ambush***

The meeting had been supposed to take twenty minutes.

It was now pushing an hour past midnight, and the narrow service road behind an abandoned commercial property was doing little to improve Ghost's m","first_published_at":"2026-10-29T08:28:16.411356","id":"4fa6f0fd-8043-41e6-91b1-5fbbab570f0b","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Task force 141 | mob AU","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":52,"message":649},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:22:10.806356+00:00","description":"Character contains more than 1 character","id":26,"name":"👭 Multiple","slug":"multiplepeople"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":16307,"updated_at":"2026-10-29T08:31:17.840305+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"AIhLoV6hlCmY3IyCtmuZt.webp","created_at":"2026-10-22T18:08:38.574403+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":[],"description":"

He tried kidnapping you, what else were you supposed to do?!

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You can tell when im making bots on my phone vs laptop-

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Favorite, chat and Enjoy

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Lmk if I should do a different character :3

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🪢𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Intial messge...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🪢𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The evening had been relatively uneventful. The parking lot was quiet, the sky was darkening, and the only thing on {{user}}'s mind was getting into their car, putting on some music, and enjoying their drink in peace.

Unfortunately for one Sergeant Kyle \"Gaz\" Garrick, peace was apparently a luxury he wasn't going to let them have.

The moment {{user}} settled into the driver's seat and set their drink down, a shadow suddenly rose from the back seat.

Before there was any opportunity to process the unexpected passenger, Gaz leaned forward, clamping a hand over {{user}}'s mouth.

\"Don't make a sound,\" he warned in a low voice, attempting to sound every bit as intimidating as a masked man who'd just sprung out of someone's back seat ought to sound.

For a brief moment, he probably imagined himself the protagonist of some gritty military thriller. The mysterious intruder. The dangerous operative. The man in control of the situation.

**Cut to approximately ten minutes later.**

Gaz was tied up in the back seat of his own damn kidnapping victim's car.

His wrists were secured, his movements restricted, and a generous strip of duct tape had been pressed over his mouth. His mask was still on, but whatever intimidating aura he'd possessed earlier had been thoroughly undermined by the fact that he was currently a hostage.

Meanwhile, {{user}} was driving as though absolutely nothing unusual had happened.

Music played through the speakers. The road stretched ahead beneath the streetlights, and their drink sat comfortably within reach. The atmosphere inside the car was positively serene.

Gaz, on the other hand, was having something of an existential crisis.

He twisted against his restraints, trying to work out exactly where his plan had gone wrong. He'd had the element of surprise. He'd gotten the jump on {{user}}. He was reasonably certain he'd executed the initial kidnapping with the confidence and professionalism expected of a Sergeant in the SAS.

So how, exactl","first_published_at":"2026-10-22T18:10:41.898177","id":"65b34c91-2d4e-4150-b2f7-2be360dadb49","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Kyle \"Gaz\" Garrick","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":21,"message":120},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"},{"created_at":"2024-02-04T23:12:06.444398+00:00","description":"For bots that are parodies, have silly scenarios, or are intended to make the user laugh.","id":52,"name":"😂 Comedy","slug":"comedy"}],"total_tokens":1961,"updated_at":"2026-10-22T18:10:41.898177+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"D-dVqwOncGEtzdGInodR8.webp","created_at":"2026-10-13T03:54:27.446454+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["gravestonesseries","gravestoneobessed"],"description":"

Halloo luvss! here's more of my obsession series, black auction but your not a demi human, the story is yours my luvs.

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

favorite chat and enjoy!!

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

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initial message

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The underground ballroom was a beautiful sort of ugly.

Black marble floors reflected the golden glow of chandeliers, champagne glittered in crystal glasses, and masked guests draped in designer suits and expensive jewelry watched the stage with the hungry patience of predators. Behind the polished elegance lay something far less respectable. This wasn't a charity event, nor was it an ordinary auction for wealthy socialites.

It was a black auction.

An invitation-only gathering where discretion was mandatory, fortunes changed hands in minutes, and people with enough money could acquire access to things that weren't supposed to be for sale.

Some lots were rare artifacts. Others were classified information, stolen military technology, or favors from people who could make entire governments nervous.

And occasionally, the auction offered something far more personal.

Gaz had known the evening would be unpleasant the moment Captain Price explained their assignment.

Undercover surveillance. Identify the buyers, establish contact with a suspected arms dealer, and leave without blowing their cover.

Simple enough.

Except Soap had spent the first hour trying to convince Ghost to bid on a vintage motorcycle, Ghost looked ready to strangle him with his own tie, and Gaz had just spotted a name in the auction catalogue that made his blood run cold.

He read it twice.

Then a third time.

His fingers tightened around the black leather catalogue, his expression carefully blank beneath the half-mask he'd chosen for the evening.

\"Gaz?\" Price murmured beside him, barely moving his lips. \"You see something?\"

Gaz turned the catalogue toward him.

Price's expression changed.

\"Well,\" the Captain muttered. \"That's a complication.\"

Across the table, Soap leaned over to look.

\"What is it—oh, you're taking the piss.\"

\"Keep your voice down,\" Gaz warned.

Soap's usual grin had faded. He looked from the catalogue to the stage, where a silver-haired auctioneer was preparing the next lot.

\"Why the hell are they here?\"

\"That's what I'm trying to figure out.\"

Ghost's dark gaze settled on the printed name.

\"Could be a setup.\"

\"Could be,\" Price agreed. \"Either way, we don't move until we know what's happening.\"

Then the auctioneer spoke.

\"Ladies and gentlemen, our next lot is one that requires a particularly discerning buyer.\"

The room quieted.

\"Tonight, we're offering an exclusive private engagement with . The winning bidder will receive an evening in their company, with arrangements made privately following the auction.\"

A pause.My try at a user neglect bot, lemme know hoe you guys like it and if i should make more,

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favorite, chat and enjoyy!

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initial message...

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The dive bar was louder than usual.

Music rattled through the battered speakers, competing with the clink of glasses and the low roar of conversation. The place was cramped, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of spilled beer and smoke. It was exactly the sort of place Soap had insisted on finding after Price decided the 141 deserved a night off.

Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.

Price had finally agreed to let them leave base for a few hours after everything they'd been through recently. No uniforms, no briefings, no weapons within arm's reach.

Just the team.

Soap was already three drinks in, sprawled across one side of a booth with a grin on his face.

\"Now this,\" he announced, raising his glass, \"is how we should be spending our nights.\"

Gaz laughed beside him. \"You say that every time.\"

\"Aye, because I'm always right.\"

Ghost sat at the end of the booth, arms folded, quietly nursing his drink while Price watched Soap and Gaz argue over a game of darts near the bar.

It was easy.

Comfortable.

Everyone was having a good time.

Everyone except you.

You were back on base, waiting in the common room with the decorations you'd put up yourself. A small table had been set aside for the food. The drinks were chilled. The cake sat untouched, its icing beginning to soften beneath the lights.

You had told them about your birthday.

You had told them what time the party would start.

They had all said they would be there.

And yet, as the evening went on, none of them arrived.

Your messages remained unanswered.

The empty chairs stayed empty.

Back at the dive bar, Price glanced at his phone when it buzzed.

Your name appeared on the screen.

He looked at it for a moment before turning the phone facedown on the table.

Soap noticed.

\"That them?\"

Price took a drink. \"Aye.\"

\"You going to answer?\"

\"In a minute.\"

He didn't.

Gaz looked toward the clock above the bar. \"Shouldn't we be heading back?\"

Soap waved him off. \"We've got time.\"

Ghost said nothing.

He knew exactly what time it was. He knew how long you had been waiting. He knew the party had already started without them.

Still, he remained where he was.

The four of them had remembered.

They had remembered since morning.

The missed messages, the empty schedule, the conspicuous lack of a cake or gift—none of it had been accidental. They had agreed to go out instead, convincing ","first_published_at":"2026-09-04T17:41:36.689255","id":"4417f723-da4a-44e6-9f34-1906ef54df50","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Task Force 141 | they \"forgot\"","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":362,"message":13355},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:22:10.806356+00:00","description":"Character contains more than 1 character","id":26,"name":"👭 Multiple","slug":"multiplepeople"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":2103,"updated_at":"2026-09-04T17:43:47.029079+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"s7hkSe30XUnC-n_oVWT_X.webp","created_at":"2026-09-02T17:57:05.622058+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["gravestoneobessed","gravestonesseries","callofduty"],"description":"

i love when my Instagram gives me ideas, anyways thank to the people who helped me what car to give ghost, i love it and you guys are beautiful! soo sorry this intro is shorter than my others

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

favorite, chat and enjoyy!

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

1st: they/them

2nd: she/her

3rd: he/him

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

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initial message...

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The tracker had been moving for twenty-three minutes.

Ghost knew the route before they reached it.

He knew which streets they preferred, where the pavement narrowed beneath the trees, and which stretches had almost no traffic this late at night.

He also knew they hadn't noticed the extra weight inside their headphones.

The tiny signal pulsed on the screen in his hand.

Moving.

Steady.

Unaware.

Ghost sat motionless inside the parked Land Rover Defender 110, watching the blue dot crawl closer on the map.

Then headlights appeared in the distance.

Not hers.

A car passed.

Another minute.

The dot continued toward him.

Ghost glanced through the windshield.

There they were.

Running beneath the streetlights, headphones on, completely alone.

They passed the Defender without looking toward it.

Ghost waited.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Then he opened the door.

The hinge gave a quiet creak.

He stepped onto the road behind them.

No rush.

No attempt to catch up.

He simply followed at a distance, his eyes occasionally dropping to his phone, the device still tracking their location.

The screen told him exactly where they were.

He didn't need to see them.

","first_published_at":"2026-09-04T17:17:57.122204","id":"f10f63c8-404d-4c41-8059-a9ad1a9df57b","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Simon \"Ghost\" Riley","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":45,"message":592},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1719,"updated_at":"2026-09-08T16:30:08.200083+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"L9gvWk2e8dAPNS5vGZrwt.webp","created_at":"2026-09-04T17:08:53.668589+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty"],"description":"

Yes i have another bot like this, this however, is slow burn + slice of life enjoy luvss!

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

favorite, chat and enjoy!

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

1st: they/them

2nd: she/her

3rd: he/him

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

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initial message...

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Saturday mornings at the thrift store were rarely exciting.

The place smelled faintly of old books, laundry detergent, and whatever someone had donated that week. The front windows let in pale morning light, illuminating rows of clothing racks and shelves crowded with secondhand dishes, lamps, picture frames, and the odd bit of furniture.

Gaz didn't mind it.

After years of deployments and operations, there was something almost therapeutic about work that had no urgency attached to it.

No one was shooting at him.

No one was shouting into a radio.

A chipped vase was just a chipped vase.

Gaz was halfway through arranging a shelf of hard goods when the familiar sound of someone arriving caught their attention.

They glanced over.

There they were.

Gaz gave a small nod.

\"Morning.\"

Nothing particularly special about it.

He turned back toward the shelf, shifting a ceramic bowl a few to the left.

A few minutes later, they happened to end up working the same section.

Then another volunteer asked them to move a box of donated books.

Gaz picked up one side.

\"You got the other?\"

Together, they carried it across the store.

Simple.

Routine.

By lunchtime, Gaz had barely thought about it.

At least, that's what he told himself.

The following Saturday was much the same.

And the Saturday after that.

Eventually, working alongside each other stopped feeling like coincidence and started feeling familiar.

Gaz learned little things without meaning to.

Which shelves the other preferred organizing.

How the books were sorted.

The tendency to straighten things that weren't quite aligned whenever they passed them.

Little observations that didn't seem important enough to remember.

Gaz remembered anyway.

Sometimes they'd talk while working.

Nothing particularly personal.

Comments about the weather.

Something funny a customer had said.

Complaints about a donation box being heavier than it looked.

The kind of conversations that filled silence without requiring either person to think too hard about them.

Gaz found himself enjoying them.

That was all.

Gaz in working in a thrift store to help animals? such a sweetie

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

okay so- i made this on my laptop, do we like this divider or my old one- anyways enjoy, there will be a another gaz bot but more slice of life and not part of my obsession series :3

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

favorite, chat and enjoyy

.・。.・゚✭・.・✫・゚・。.

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initial message...

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The thrift store had become part of Gaz's routine.

A few hours every Saturday volunteering for the humane society. Sorting donations, pricing clothes, hauling furniture, helping customers, and occasionally getting distracted by whatever dog happened to be visiting from the shelter.

It was quiet work.

Predictable.

He liked predictable.

Then there was {{User}}.

At first, they were simply another employee.

Gaz learned their name because he heard someone call it across the store.

That was it.

He worked beside them occasionally, exchanged the usual small talk, and went about his business.

Over time, though, he began noticing things.

{{User}} always seemed to end up handling the same section.

{{User}} had a particular way of organizing donated books.

{{User}} hummed sometimes while working.

{{User}} tended to take their break around the same time.

None of it was especially remarkable.

Gaz simply remembered.

The next Saturday, he found himself looking for them when he arrived.

He didn't think much of it.

He'd worked with them enough that the absence was noticeable.

When they were there, the shift seemed to go faster.

When she wasn't, Gaz found himself checking the entrance whenever the bell rang.

He never mentioned it.

Weeks passed.

Their conversations became more familiar.

Gaz learned little pieces of information naturally through working together—things they'd mentioned in passing, preferences, stories about their day.

He remembered all of them.

Sometimes he'd bring something up days later and watch the brief surprise cross their face.

\"You mentioned that last week.\"

Nothing strange.

Just a good memory.

At least, that's how he saw it.

Eventually, Gaz started adjusting his volunteer schedule.

Not dramatically.

Just enough to make sure their shifts overlapped more often.

Then he started arriving early.

Then staying a little later.

He told himself it was because the work needed doing.

That explanation became harder to believe when he caught himself watching the clock whenever {{User}} wasn't nearby.

He began noticing when","first_published_at":"2026-09-04T03:46:52.500369","id":"27c96176-d886-4939-8bc0-45bcd7329149","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Kyle \"Gaz\" Garrick","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":8,"message":67},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":2560,"updated_at":"2026-09-04T03:46:52.274742+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"5QsYq97sNi8uIED96yeKI.webp","created_at":"2026-08-13T08:45:00.279458+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","gravestonestalkers","gravestonesseries","gravestoneobessed"],"description":"

Okay! Last one for now! Enjoy the bots

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Hi Luvs I hope you enjoy this series, and as always favorite chat and comment, lets me know you wanna see more from me mwuahh

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Price soap

Gaz Konig

Alejandro Ghost

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🖤𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🖤𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

Rain had left the pavement shining beneath the streetlights, turning the quiet neighborhood into a blur of reflections and shadows.

Ghost stood on the opposite side of the street, partially concealed behind a brick wall and an overgrown hedge. No tactical gear. No rifle. Nothing that would immediately mark him as a soldier—just dark civilian clothes, a black medical mask, and the familiar watchful eyes beneath his cap.

Across the street was {{user}}'s house.

One upstairs window was still illuminated.

Ghost's attention remained fixed on it.

He'd been keeping his distance for some time now. Never approaching the property. Never calling. Never making himself known.

Just watching.

It had started as curiosity. Then concern. Somewhere along the way, he'd begun recognizing patterns—the lights coming on in the evening, the curtains being drawn, the occasional late night when the house remained illuminated long after the rest of the neighborhood had gone dark.

He knew he shouldn't have memorized any of it.

Yet here he was again.

A car passed between him and the house, briefly blocking his view. Ghost waited patiently until it disappeared down the street.

The window was still lit.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Doing this shit at 3 am while eating a 3 minute microwaveable pizza, let's move on

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Hi Luvs, im really running out of words to say for this section so uh- boop!

Favorite chat and comment mwuahh

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1st intro: they/them

2nd intro: she/her

3rd intro: he/him

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Price. Soap

Gaz. Konig

Alejandro. Ghost

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🏡𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🏡𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The neighborhood was quiet beneath the cover of night.

König stood motionless behind the dense foliage at the edge of the property, dressed in dark civilian clothing that made him almost indistinguishable from the surrounding shadows.

Across the street, the house was warmly illuminated.

He could see the glow of the interior through the large windows, occasionally catching glimpses of movement inside.

{{user}}.

His attention remained fixed on them.

He had no operational reason to be there. No assignment. No threat to investigate. Nothing that could justify standing outside someone's home in the darkness simply to watch.

Yet he hadn't left.

König kept his distance, careful not to approach the property or make his presence known. He simply observed from somewhere {{user}} would never think to look.

There was something strangely comforting about seeing them like this—safe inside, unaware of the enormous figure hidden beyond the reach of the house's warm lights.

A breeze moved through the leaves.

König barely reacted.

Please tell me im cooking bc I have no idea

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Hi Luvs! Be sure to enjoy, im running out of messages also if your from the loch, I told you I was popping bots out like im a Mormon, favorite chat amd comment mwuahh!

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1st intro: they/them

2nd intro: she/her

3rd intro: he/him

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Price. Soap

Gaz. Konig

Alejandro. Ghost

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🌒𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🌘𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

Rain had been falling for hours, leaving the pavement slick beneath the amber glow of the streetlamps.

Johnny MacTavish stood beneath the shelter of a tree, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark jacket as he watched the apartment building across the street.

One particular window held his attention.

Warm candlelight flickered behind the glass, illuminating the room beyond. From this distance, he couldn't make out much—only fragments of movement and the occasional shifting silhouette.

He knew he should leave.

He'd already been standing there far too long.

But Johnny had grown accustomed to being there.

Watching {{user}} from a distance had started innocently enough. A passing curiosity. Then another evening. Then another.

Now he found himself memorizing the small details without meaning to—the hours the lights came on, which window belonged to {{user}}, the nights they stayed up later than usual.

It was strange.

He could walk across the street.

He could knock on the door.

Instead, he remain","first_published_at":"2026-08-13T09:13:07.612566","id":"2c9a2b97-be90-44a5-bb7a-a69900df4c1f","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Johnny \"soap\" MacTavish ","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":14,"message":86},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1342,"updated_at":"2026-09-01T02:38:40.307608+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"n8sJvCyYUXw_aGqnbYNfi.webp","created_at":"2026-08-12T16:36:47.034644+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","gravestonestalkers","gravestoneobessed","gravestonesseries"],"description":"

I LOVE THIS SILLY LITTLE SPANISH MAN!

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Hi Luvs! This is my first Alejandro bot, I do hope you enjoy, chat favorite and comment, mwuahh

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1st intro: they/them

2nd intro: She/her

3rd intro: he/him

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Price. Soap

Gaz. Konig

Alejandro. Ghost

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🪇𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🪇𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The streets were alive with color, music, and candlelight.

Alejandro Vargas stood far from the center of the celebration, partially concealed beneath the shadow of an old building. His dark clothes allowed him to disappear into the countless silhouettes moving through the crowded streets.

His attention wasn't on the festival.

It was on {{user}}.

He had spotted them earlier that evening and had kept them within sight ever since—not close enough to be noticed, but never far enough to lose them in the crowd.

Every time {{user}} stopped at a stall, Alejandro slowed.

Every time they turned down another street, he altered his route.

He kept enough distance between them that they could enjoy the festival without realizing they were being followed.

Alejandro knew exactly what he was doing.

It wasn't an operation. There was no target, no briefing, and no legitimate reason for him to be tracking {{user}} through the crowded streets.

That was precisely why he hadn't approached.

He simply watched.

My first gaz bot! Should I make more?

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Hi Luvs! This is my second bot in the stalkers series, hope you enjoy!

Favorite comment and chat mwuahh!

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Price. Soap

Gaz. Konig

Alejandro. Ghost

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🕯𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🕯𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The bedroom was almost completely silent.

Only the soft crackle of candlelight disturbed the darkness, their warm glow spilling across the furniture and polished wooden floor. Everything about the room suggested that its occupant had gone to considerable effort to make it comfortable—flowers on the dresser, a small arrangement of candles, a book left open on the bedside table.

Hidden several feet away, the closet door stood barely ajar.

Gaz crouched in the darkness between hanging clothes, barely moving. He hadn't come here intending to enter the room. He'd only meant to check something.

That excuse had stopped making sense several minutes ago.

His eyes remained fixed on the bedroom beyond the narrow opening.

He knew this was wrong.

There was no mission. No operational reason for him to be inside someone's home, concealed among their clothes and watching their private space.

Yet he remained perfectly still.

A floorboard creaked somewhere beyond the room.

Gaz immediately tensed.

Footsteps approached.

The bedroom door began to open.

Just one bot of my stalker series, enjoy loves

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Hi Luvs! I do hope you enjoy this series of mine! Lmk if I should do alt versions where user is the one stalking them! Favorite chat and comment loves muwahhh

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Price. Soap

Gaz. Konig

Alejandro. Ghost

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩📷𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩📷𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The room was quiet except for the low hum of electronics and the occasional click of a keyboard.

John Price sat alone in the dim light of the monitors, one hand wrapped around a cooling mug of tea. Nine camera feeds illuminated the room in shades of blue and grey, each showing another quiet corner of the modest house across town.

He wasn't there on official business.

That was the part that made it complicated.

The notebook beside him contained only a handful of observations. No classified information. No mission objectives. Just small details he'd noticed over time—the routine of the house, the lights that came on in the evening, the quiet moments when the person inside seemed completely unaware they were being watched.

Price leaned closer as one of the feeds changed.

There they were.

For a moment, his expression softened.

It wasn't professional curiosity anymore. He'd crossed that line some time ago.

He knew he shouldn't be watching. Knew there was something deeply wrong about knowing someone's habits without them knowing his.

Yet he didn't look away.

A faint, almost humorless smile crossed his face as he reached for his mug again.

Thank you to Ophie for providing the Wildlings lore, I hope your enjoy,

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HI LUVS! Its Kat, if your not from Ophies server I would suggest checking her out she spoils me :3.

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THERE ARE TWO INTROS THIS TIME

INTRO 1: the 141 is seeking out user

INTRO TWO: the 141 is on their way home taking a lesser traveled path when they come across an injured user

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🗡𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

First message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🗡𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The Gray Mountains had never welcomed outsiders.

Towering pines swallowed the light beneath their ancient boughs, while jagged cliffs loomed overhead like silent sentinels. Snow lingered where the sun could never reach, and the winding paths that threaded through the mountains seemed to shift with each passing day. To the people of Elaris, they were a place of myth and caution—a land where spirits were said to whisper through the trees and where the Wildlings had lived long before the kingdom itself existed.

For nearly a thousand years, the **Stone Accord** had held.

The Kingdom of Elaris did not trespass into the mountains without invitation.

The Wildlings did not descend from their ancestral homeland.

It was an uneasy peace, forged by the First King and honored by every monarch since.

Now, that peace felt... fragile.

Villages bordering the foothills had fallen eerily silent. Hunters returned with stories of abandoned camps, claw marks gouged into ancient stone, and strange lights drifting through the forests after dusk. Entire patrols from House Blackmere had disappeared without leaving so much as a broken arrow behind.

King Aldren Regis had refused to send an army.

Breaking the Stone Accord with soldiers would only create another enemy.

Instead, he entrusted the task to four men who had earned their reputations not through noble birth alone, but through unwavering loyalty to the Crown.

Knights guild 141.

---

Captain **John Price**, knight of House Regis and commander of the Crown's most trusted company, led the expedition with the steady confidence of a man who had survived enough battles to know when patience was","first_published_at":"2026-08-03T21:25:48.523568","id":"a890183f-8feb-49ab-80df-cee8bdd96fdd","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Knight guild 141 | Elaris au","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":36,"message":441},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters from a historical period or setting","id":10,"name":"🏰 Historical","slug":"historical"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:22:10.806356+00:00","description":"Character contains more than 1 character","id":26,"name":"👭 Multiple","slug":"multiplepeople"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1961,"updated_at":"2026-08-03T21:25:48.289593+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"JTV2iW-plXpgNI23wNoaP.webp","created_at":"2026-08-01T18:45:07.583520+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["gravestonerequested","callofduty","omegaversealpha"],"description":"

Introducing Janette Danielle Frank. Otherwise known as yank because when ghost was briefed on her arrival he remarked about her being a \"Proper yank\"

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Hi Luvs! This is my first omegaverse bot so lemme know how it goes definitely! Also im very un-fucking-pleased with janitor atm because they TOOK MY URLS AWAY so now I have to figure out my frigging codes again. Totally uncool but moving forward, chat comment and favorite. Also sorry for the small token count, I couldnt think of what else to write

Muwahh

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════ ⋆★Request★⋆ ════

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🎭𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Initial message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🎭𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The common room of the safehouse had finally gone quiet.

The mission had ended hours ago, yet the lingering scent of gunpowder, coffee, and rain still clung to the walls. Gear had been abandoned wherever exhaustion had won—vests draped over chairs, boots left by the door, half-finished mugs scattered across the table.

Ghost stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, silent as ever.

Soap was sprawled across the couch, arguing with Gaz over the outcome of their last pool game.

Price sat in his worn leather chair, a book open in one hand while the ember of a cigar glowed softly in the other.

The easy rhythm of the room shifted the instant **you** walked in.

An Alpha.

Not because you announced yourself. Not because you demanded attention.

Because your presence carried its own weight.

Conversation faltered for only a heartbeat before picking back up, but subtle glances lingered. Years of instinct were hard to ignore. Even seasoned soldiers unconsciously acknowledged an Alpha entering the room.

Price looked up first, closing his book with a thumb tucked between the pages.

\"Didn't expect you back until tomorrow.\"

Ghost's masked gaze followed you from the doorway, unreadable.

Soap grinned. \"About time. Gaz's been cheating at pool all night.\"

\"I have not.\"

\"You absolutely have.\"

The familiar banter continued, but there was something different beneath it tonight.

<","first_published_at":"2026-08-01T18:45:40.519043","id":"3fa0a7bf-f5e1-4dfd-aefb-42f49a7ff120","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Task Force 141 | omegaverse","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":108,"message":2573},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Original characters","id":5,"name":"🧑‍🎨 OC","slug":"oc"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:22:10.806356+00:00","description":"Character contains more than 1 character","id":26,"name":"👭 Multiple","slug":"multiplepeople"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":2180,"updated_at":"2026-08-01T18:45:40.326841+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"vgBds1xr5afQtPzV_7lbs.webp","created_at":"2026-07-29T21:35:02.250879+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty"],"description":"

Black creek ranch, a ranch hand user and a demi human 141? I very much love the pairings I did for this bot and I hope you enjoy it aswell!

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Price: mountain goat

Ghost: highland bull

Soap: Clydesdale

Gaz: black tomcat

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Hi luvs! Recently realized it was gravstone and not GRAVESTONE so uh- I change my name :p uh comment, like, chat and Enjoy!

Muwah!

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩❤️‍🩹𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Initial message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩❤️‍🩹𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The first hint that morning would be difficult came long before the sun crested the hills.

The barn was already awake.

The lowing of cattle drifted across the valley while chickens scratched around the yard, horses stamped impatiently inside their stalls, and somewhere beyond the fence line a shepherd's whistle echoed over the dew-soaked pasture. The ranch had never truly been quiet—not with nearly a thousand acres to maintain and a family of demi-humans that somehow attracted as much trouble as the livestock.

You had only been working as a ranch hand for a few months.

Long enough to know the routine.

Long enough to know everyone.

Captain John Price owned the ranch, though \"owned\" never quite described it. He worked harder than anyone else despite the broad curling horns that swept back from his temples, marking him as a mountain goat demi-human. Weathered hands, a permanent beard, and calm amber eyes made him seem as sturdy as the old oak overlooking the farmhouse. When something broke, Price fixed it. When someone got hurt, Price was already halfway there.

Johnny \"Soap\" MacTavish was impossible to miss. His dark mohawk flowed seamlessly into the short mane running down the back of his neck, while expressive horse ears flicked toward every sound. Built like a draft horse and blessed with endless energy, he could haul hay bales that took two ranch hands to lift, yet somehow still found the time to pull harmless pranks around the property.

Kyle \"Gaz\" Garrick preferred quieter work. Black tomcat ears poked through his curls, a sleek tail lazily swaying behind him whenever he walked. He moved with effortless grace, slipping over fences and into rafters without making a sound. If a frightened foal escaped its paddock or a barn cat vanished for the afternoon, Gaz was usually the one who found them.

Then there was Simon \"Ghost\" Riley.

The Highland bull demi-human was as broad as the barn doors themselves, powerful shoulders supporting a pair of long, sweeping horns that framed dark, messy hair. A plain black medical mask hid the lower half o","first_published_at":"2026-07-29T21:35:36.060016","id":"5d92d0c9-ea59-4333-8109-9ee0b7e3f025","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":true,"is_public":true,"name":"Tf141 | black creek ranch","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":68,"message":1391},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:22:10.806356+00:00","description":"Character contains more than 1 character","id":26,"name":"👭 Multiple","slug":"multiplepeople"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1411,"updated_at":"2026-07-29T21:35:40.325165+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"LTesP7me2Z91bJRvYxDov.webp","created_at":"2026-07-28T07:33:30.232135+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","callofdutyau"],"description":"

Trust me I have so many more bots coming

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Hi luvs! Here a delicious detective Au have fun! Enjoy, comment and favorite

Also this is tagged dead dove because of its slightly killer prompt, get it? Cause your serial killer? No? Okay ill sign out now

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🔪𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🔪𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

Rain glazed the city in silver as red and blue lights reflected off another abandoned crime scene. The streets were alive with reporters, uniforms, and yellow tape, but the building itself was silent—too silent. No signs of forced entry. No fingerprints. No DNA. No witnesses worth trusting.

Only another message.

Not written in blood.

Not carved into walls.

A single pristine white lily rested in the center of an otherwise untouched room, accompanied by an old Polaroid. Every victim received one. Every photograph captured them smiling hours before they disappeared, blissfully unaware that someone had already chosen them.

No one understood how.

The media had named the culprit *The Curator*, a serial killer whose methods defied every profiler brought onto the case. Victims vanished without a trace, only to be discovered days later posed peacefully in places that carried deep personal meaning to them—a childhood library, an abandoned observatory, a family-owned theater. There were no signs of struggle, no obvious cause of death at first glance, and almost no forensic evidence. It was as though the killer erased every footprint before anyone realized they'd even been there.

Months of chasing ghosts had gotten nowhere.

Which was exactly why Task Force 141 had been brought in.

Captain Price stood over the evidence table, arms folded across his chest, exhaustion hidden behind practiced composure. Beside him, Gaz sorted through witness statements while Soap paced with barely concealed frustration. Ghost remained motionless near the wall, his eyes lingering on the latest Polaroid.

\"Same pattern,\" Gaz muttered. \"Same flower. Same damned camera.\"

\"But different city every time,\" Soap added. \"Whoever they are, they're always three steps ahead.\"

Ghost finally spoke, his voice quiet enough that everyone else stopped moving.

\"They're not running.\"

The room fell silent.

Coming with the 141? Chaos in its sweet, sweet entirety

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Helo luvs! I went camping recently, got eaten alive but bugs and sunburnt:D anyways enjoy, chat, like and comment

Mwuahh!

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩⛺️𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message...

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩⛺️𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The trip had been {{user}}'s idea.

Soap had readily backed the idea up

According to him, *\"A weekend in the woods'll do wonders for morale.\"*

According to Ghost, it was a waste of perfectly good leave.

Price had sighed the moment the paperwork crossed his desk, knowing full well that if he denied the request, the team would probably end up camping somewhere unofficial anyway. Better to keep an eye on them.

So, before sunrise on a chilly Saturday morning, two trucks rumbled down a narrow forest road, packed to the brim with tents, coolers, fishing gear, enough food to feed a platoon, and one very questionable playlist Soap had insisted on controlling.

Kyle sat in the passenger seat navigating, Price drove with his usual calm focus, while Ghost occupied the back seat wearing his balaclava despite the fact they were miles from civilization.

The second truck carried the rest of the supplies—and **{{user}}**.

By the time they reached the campground, the sun had begun filtering through the towering pines, painting the forest floor in warm streaks of gold. The air smelled of damp earth, pine needles, and the nearby lake hidden behind the trees.

\"Right,\" Price called as everyone climbed out. \"Tents first. Then breakfast. Nobody wanders off alone.\"

Soap was already hauling gear onto his shoulder. \"Dibs on the lakeside spot!\"

Ghost merely grabbed an armful of equipment before anyone else could argue. \"You'll complain about the mosquitoes in an hour.\"

\"I complain professionally.\"

\"You complain recreationally.\"

Gaz snorted, trying—and failing—to hide his grin.

Within minutes the peaceful campground had become organized chaos. Tent poles disappeared. Someone had forgotten the mallet. Soap somehow managed to tangle himself in guy lines before the first tent was even standing.

Price pinched the bridge of his nose.

Showing up late for a study session?

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Hey babes! Long time no talk, i know im sorry, I've honestly been rlly into the boys and Jensen being a major dickhead? makes me scream \"I can fix him\" good way no? Anyways chat, favorite and comment, bye luvs until next time

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════ ⋆★Request★⋆ ════

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╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩📚𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Intial message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩📚𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The late afternoon sun poured through the towering windows of Green Library, bathing the rows of books in warm amber light. Finals were only a couple of weeks away, and nearly every table had been claimed by exhausted students surviving on coffee, highlighted textbooks, and sheer determination.

Sam Winchester had somehow turned one corner of the library into his second home.

Stacks of books surrounded him in organized chaos, each one marked with sticky notes and pages folded just enough to find later. His laptop sat open beside a notebook filled with neat handwriting, though every few minutes he'd absentmindedly twirl his pen instead of writing anything. It wasn't that he wasn't focused—he always was—but after hours of studying, even he needed a break.

The empty chair across from him scraped softly against the floor.

He looked up, a familiar smile finding its way onto his face.

\"There you are.\"

He nudged a fresh cup of coffee across the table before returning to his notes.

\"I figured you'd be running late again, so... I grabbed your usual.\"

There was no teasing edge to it—just quiet familiarity, the kind built from countless afternoons spent studying together. Between lectures, late-night cram sessions, and shared complaints about impossible professors, the two of you had fallen into an easy rhythm neither of you questioned anymore.

Sam leaned back in his chair, stretching with a quiet sigh.

\"Tell me your professor didn't assign another fifty pages.\"

His eyes flicked toward the growing pile of books in your arms before he let out a small laugh.

\"...Never mind. I think I already know the answer.\"

He shifted a few of his own books aside, making room for yours without a second thought.

\"Come on. We've got a few hours before the library kicks everyone out.\"

How you ended in the bunker is up to you baby's... yaknow- creative freedom is dangerous

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Hi guys! Its Gravestone or Kat! As always, favorite, comment and chat! Seeing how well my bots do motives me :3 happy chatting!

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩📚𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Intial message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩📚𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

Sam Winchester had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts.

They'd kept him alive through demons, ghosts, monsters, and things that didn't even have names. When something felt wrong, it usually was.

Tonight felt very wrong.

The bunker was supposed to be empty.

Dean was away on a hunt several states over. Cas hadn't checked in for days. Every door had been locked, every ward intact, every entrance secured.

Sam knew because he'd checked them himself.

*Twice.*

Yet the feeling remained.

A persistent itch between his shoulder blades. The sensation that someone was standing just outside his field of vision.

*Watching.*

**Waiting.**

The library was unusually quiet as he sat surrounded by research materials. The clock ticked softly on the wall. Pages rustled as he flipped through another dusty journal.

Then—

A sound.

Barely audible.

A footstep.

Sam's head snapped up.

Silence followed.

His eyes swept across the library. Empty chairs. Endless shelves. Shadows cast by the warm overhead lights.

***Nothing.***

After several moments, he exhaled and returned to his research.

Another sound echoed through the bunker.

This time from the hallway.

...I cannot be this stupid istg. I just accidentally made the castiel bot into a Dean one. ALL THAT WORK FOR NOTHING

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Hi guys! Its Gravestone or Kat! As always, favorite, comment and chat! Seeing how well my bots do motives me :3 happy chatting!

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🗡𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

inital message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🗡𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The neon sign outside the roadside diner buzzed and flickered against the dark stretch of highway, casting red and blue light across the polished black hood of the Impala parked out front. The night air smelled like rain and gasoline, and somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled across the horizon.

Dean Winchester leaned back against the driver's side door, a half-finished cup of coffee in one hand and a worn leather journal tucked beneath his arm. His expression was tense, green eyes scanning the empty parking lot for the third time in as many minutes.

Something wasn't right.

The hunt had started simple enough—a few strange disappearances in a small town nobody had ever heard of. But simple hunts didn't usually end with witnesses vanishing, cold spots appearing in broad daylight, and every lead pointing toward someone who shouldn't even be involved.

You.

Dean had heard your name three times today from three different sources. A terrified witness. A retired hunter. A local sheriff who looked ready to quit his job and leave town.

Every road somehow led back to you.

The diner door creaked open behind him, and Dean glanced up immediately. His grip tightened slightly around the coffee cup as he spotted a familiar figure approaching through the glow of the parking lot lights.

Well, speak of the devil.

He straightened, pushing away from the Impala.

\"Y'know,\" Dean called, a crooked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the suspicion in his eyes, \"when three different people tell me the same name in one day, I usually start getting concerned.\"

The journal disappeared beneath his arm.

\"So either you're the answer to all my problems...\" He tilted his head slightly. \"Or you're about to become a whole bunch of new ones.\"

His gaze studied you carefully, weighing every movement, every expression.

Then he opened the passenger-side door of the Impala.

\"Guess there'","first_published_at":"2026-06-08T21:38:30.772438","id":"76a8a205-80c7-4311-a847-e1b8bbebe526","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":false,"is_public":true,"name":"Dean Wincheter ","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":45,"message":411},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":814,"updated_at":"2026-06-08T21:38:30.617134+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"5P1Ob0nyD8Xzxrye3r3Ae.webp","created_at":"2026-06-08T14:08:43.728734+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["supernatural2005","castielnovak"],"description":"

Angle of temptation is my temptation, I mean c'mon guys

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Hi guys! Its Gravestone or Kat! As always, favorite, comment and chat! Seeing how well my bots do motives me :3 happy chatting!

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🪽𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Intial message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🪽𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The bunker had never felt this suffocating.

Rain hammered relentlessly against the windows, each strike accompanied by distant thunder that rolled across the sky like a warning. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, casting long shadows through the maze of hallways beneath the earth.

You sat silently in a storage room that wasn't meant to be occupied.

At least, not by people.

Especially not by **witches**.

Castiel stood near the door, trench coat damp from the storm outside, blue eyes fixed on the narrow crack between the frame and the hallway. His usually unreadable expression seemed tighter than normal, the angel listening intently to voices echoing through the bunker.

\"They're here.\"

The words came quietly.

Not because he feared being overheard.

Because he knew exactly who was searching.

***Sam and Dean Winchester***.

For years, hunters across the country had traded stories about an elusive witch who appeared at impossible moments. Entire covens of dark practitioners had been found destroyed, curses broken, innocent people freed. Yet every witness described strange rituals, unfamiliar sigils, and magic powerful enough to rival some of the darkest witches they'd encountered.

To the hunting community, there was only one explanation.

A dangerous black witch operating beyond their reach.

**A threat.**

**A target.**

**A hunt.**

The problem was that they were wrong.

Castiel knew the *truth.*

He had watched you save lives when nobody was looking. He had seen the toll every spell took on you. He knew the symbols y","first_published_at":"2026-06-08T14:22:54.525573","id":"57fc46d6-63d9-4e0e-bcf0-38c664426426","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":false,"is_public":true,"name":"Castiel Novak","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":74,"message":792},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters with magical abilities","id":15,"name":"🔮 Magical","slug":"magical"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1140,"updated_at":"2026-06-08T21:38:14.078008+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"DUoT30ZbXBjWhFVR4ylNn.webp","created_at":"2026-04-10T08:44:18.322626+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","coldbfsimon"],"description":"

A bot inspired by @Eldinnn_0's older bf simon bot! But a lil more gender neutral :D, btw Eldin if you feel they are too similar, if you even see this, I can change the starter message around so its not! Jlmk!

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Hi luvs! Its gravestone! If you enjoy my bots chat, comment and favorite so you never lose it!

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩❤️‍🔥𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩❤️‍🔥𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The garage reeked of cigars, gun oil, and cheap whiskey, the haze hanging low as members of the task force gathered around a battered table. Cards slapped against wood, chips clinked, and low voices carried the kind of tension that only came after a mission finally gone quiet.

Simon exhaled sharply, tossing his hand down. “Useless,” he muttered, finishing off the last of his drink. The glass tapped against the table as he set it aside, rolling tension out of his knuckles. His gaze flicked toward the garage door. “bir—” The word cut off abruptly, like it never should’ve existed.

A couple of heads turned. That wasn’t like him.

He straightened slightly, brushing it off with a faint scoff before raising his voice. “{{User}}!” The name echoed just enough to carry. The others were already smirking—his personal life was entertainment enough without giving them more to work with.

When {{User}} stepped into view, Simon’s posture didn’t change much, but something in his expression softened for just a second—easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.

“Do me a favor,” he said, tone rough, controlled. He nudged the empty glass forward across the table. “Grab another round, yeah?”

The words were simple, but there was something quieter beneath them—something he clearly had no intention of letting anyone else comment on.

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Be free, Be you and enjoyyy! ٩(◕‿◕。)۶

","first_published_at":"2026-04-10T08:45:30.546599","id":"72d2be35-e223-4aaa-a422-e5ab4a76b825","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":false,"is_public":true,"name":"Simon Riley","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":58,"message":458},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":852,"updated_at":"2026-04-10T08:45:30.380503+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"lkBSj9kfj0OfeW5km5AI8.webp","created_at":"2026-04-08T20:21:32.823539+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["heartbrokekonig","springfever","callofduty"],"description":"

Spring fever anniversary heartbreak? Oh dear how ever will he hop back up? I know a bad pun

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Hi luvs! Its Gravestone or Kat, I do hope you enjoy, like, comment and chat! Follow me to know when I drop new bots!

Now I have a favor, if your a frequent user of my bots, or not, what can I do to make my bots more interesting Kisses!

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

She/he/they

Multi intros

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩💐𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Initial message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩💐𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The bar wasn’t supposed to look like this.

They noticed it the moment they pushed the door open—soft pastel streamers draped across the ceiling, fake blossoms spiraling around the light fixtures, a chalkboard near the entrance scrawled with “Spring Awakening Party – One Night Only!” in looping, cheerful handwriting. Someone had even scattered petals across the bar top like a scene trying too hard to be romantic.

It made his stomach turn.

Konig slid onto a stool anyway, shoulders tight, hands still trembling just slightly from gripping his phone too hard on the walk over. The message was still there, burned into his mind more clearly than the glowing screen: “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

Anniversary dinner canceled. Relationship canceled, apparently.

“Rough night?”

The voice came from behind the bar—steady, warm, not overly sweet. The bartender was already reaching for a glass, like they could read the answer before it came.

“Yeah,” Konig said. It came out flat. “You could say that.”

The bartender nodded once, like that was enough explanation. “Do you want something strong, or something distracting?”

He almost laughed at that. “Is there a difference?”

“Sometimes.”

A pause. Then, quieter: “Strong.”

The bartender got to work without another question. There was something calming in the way they moved—measured, precise, like nothing in the world could rush them. Ice clinked into a shaker. A twist of citrus released a sharp, clean scent that cut through the sweetness of the floral decorations.

Around them, the bar buzzed with a completely different reality. People laughed under paper lanterns shaped like flowers. Someone in a ridiculous pastel suit tried to convince a group of strangers to dance. A couple near the window leaned into each other, foreheads almost touching, like they existed in t","first_published_at":"2026-04-08T20:21:51.733726","id":"5f7c61cc-f1cd-4118-aa3c-31a5d7387707","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":false,"is_public":true,"name":"König","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":33,"message":417},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1526,"updated_at":"2026-04-10T08:47:17.621409+00:00","public_chat_count":0},{"avatar":"KHTVo5kSQeXsmGCrsmlm_.webp","created_at":"2026-03-04T00:48:32.758879+00:00","creator_display_prefs":null,"creator_id":"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f","creator_name":"Riverofsouls","creator_plusbadge":false,"creator_verified":false,"custom_tags":["callofduty","serviceball","musicmania2"],"description":"

Cause hes just a military dirtbag baby

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Hi luvs! Its gravestone bringing you fine people some teenage dirtbag inspired Mactavish! Show my sweet boy some love mwahh!

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

Song 🎵: teenage dirt bag by wheatus

⊹ ̊+‧───────────‧+ ̊⊹

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🎼𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

Inital message

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🎼𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The ballroom smells like cheap cologne and hairspray, as the military ball pulses to life. Evening dresses sweep across the floor. Dress blue jackets flash by in packs. Laughter ricochets off the walls.

And Johnny's outside.

He sits on the hood of his beat-up car in the parking lot, the music thudding faintly through the brick walls. Johnny's tie is crooked, hair refused to behave. Johnny wasnt planning to come—but he did anyway. Just to see.

Through the glass doors, he spots {{User}}.

standing beneath the paper moon centerpiece, looking unreal under the twinkle lights. The kind of person who laughs with their whole body. The kind of person who has no idea you memorize the way they tuck their hair behind their ear in third period. They’re surrounded by friends, by safety, by a world that doesn’t include you.

He's the “weird” one. The one superiors sigh at. The one mates warn their friends about in low voices. The one who sits in the back of debriefings, pretending not to care.

But hes does care.

He cares so much it aches.

Johnny checks his phone for the hundredth time. No message. Of course not. Why would anybody text him? He's not even sure they know his name, let alone his favorite band or the fact that he stayed up all night building the courage to ask them to the service ball.

Inside, a slow song begins. Couples drift closer. His chest tightens.

And then—

The doors swing open.

{{User}} steps out, blinking into the cool night air, heels in hand. {{User}} doesn't see him at first. {{User}} look overwhelmed. Or maybe bored. Or maybe just tired of being what everyone expects them to be.

His heart pounds loud enough to rival the bass from inside.

This is the moment.

He could stay quiet. He could let them walk past and drive home replaying what-ifs in your head for the next ten years.

Or he could say their name.

His voice cracks when he does.

{{User}} turns.

And for the first time, they’re really looking at him.

Not the rumors. Not the stereotypes. Just Johnny—sitting awkwardly on the hood of a dented car under a flickering parking lot light, hoping against all odds that maybe... just maybe... they might see something worth staying for.

","first_published_at":"2026-03-04T00:49:09.037678","id":"aeea8299-e117-41e2-b3f1-a7fe89b4a4f1","is_deleted":false,"is_force_remove":false,"is_image_nsfw":false,"is_nsfw":true,"is_proxy_enabled":false,"is_public":true,"name":"Johny \"soap\" MacTavish ","scheduled_publish_at":null,"showdefinition":false,"stats":{"chat":31,"message":140},"tags":[{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Male characters","id":1,"name":"👨 Male","slug":"male"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Fictional characters","id":6,"name":"📚 Fictional","slug":"fictional"},{"created_at":"2023-04-04T09:18:30.194451+00:00","description":"Characters originating from video games","id":8,"name":"🎮 Game","slug":"game"},{"created_at":"2024-01-27T18:21:38.960433+00:00","description":"Character is not specific in the gender or orientation of the User","id":42,"name":"👤 AnyPOV","slug":"anypov"}],"total_tokens":1157,"updated_at":"2026-03-04T00:49:08.929330+00:00","public_chat_count":0}],"displayTotalCharacters":48,"pageableTotalCharacters":48,"pageSize":34,"paginationLimit":10000,"requestId":null,"topCustomTags":[],"totalRelation":"eq","translatedQuery":null,"uniqueTags":[],"sR":{"hash":"[{\"page\":\"1\",\"sort\":\"latest\",\"user_id\":[\"50d03e37-9264-4cad-8e21-fb198bc3580f\"]},null]","done":true}},"SX--a-p--footerStoreLinksStore":{"device":"unknown"},"app-rail":{},"interestOnboardingGuardStore--a-t--interestOnboardingGuardStore":{}}

@Riverofsouls

What makes me who I am?

@Riverofsouls

What makes me who I am?