#maybe two co-*gunshots*

[watchyourbuck]

Buck really went from ‘aye fuck ur new friend’ to ‘yo I may have fucked your new friend’ & I think that’s neat

[drabblesandimagines]

Trunk

Leon Kennedy x female reader (BSAA) for this request Fluffy, bit of mild spice, bit of blood, mention of panic attack, swears

It was meant to be straightforward surveillance ahead of the main op. Monitor the drop – the metal suitcase fitted with a tracking chip and three fake virus vials – note any observations about the pick-up, then inform the rest of the Wolf Hound Squad who would track the co-ordinates to find the terrorists’ base of operations.

You had pouted a little at being sidelined from the main action, but Chris needed someone stealthy to keep an eye over the drop and, with a squeeze to your shoulder, your track record meant you were the prime candidate.

You’d set yourself up in the eaves of the abandoned warehouse that served as the drop-off point, armed with a pair of binoculars, an ear piece and a couple of guns, as always, for if anything went south...

..which it did the moment you detected movement from the south-east corner. It took a few attempts to get them in focus, but your heart sank when you recognized the figure – one Leon S Kennedy of the DSO rolling between abandoned shipping containers, honing in on the one you’d placed the metal suitcase in a few hours previously.

What the hell is he doing here?

You press down on your earpiece and it beeps once, opening the line to transmit. “Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Silence.

“Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Nothing – again. Maybe your current position has poor signal, but there’s no time to troubleshoot when squealing tyres echo around the structure, alerting you to the two black cars swerving in and heading to the shipping container in question.

The cars stop, their engines remaining idle and five well-built and well-dressed men depart – three from one, two from another.

Through your binoculars, you see Leon head straight for them, gun raised.

Shit.

--

You are jolted back into consciousness when your crown smacks on something hard, before being ricocheted back down to your nose cracking against something firm, groaning as you come to.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

The voice is familiar and rumbles through your chest with the horrible realization that you’re lying on top of someone. You try and scoot back, whacking your head again and a sinking feeling as you feel plastic digging into your wrists, keeping them bound behind you.

It all comes flooding back.

Numerous gunshots go off as you slide down the ladder back to the ground floor, half expecting to find Leon bleeding out or even dead on the concrete. Instead, he’s being heaved up by his armpits, unconscious, and pushed into the trunk of one of the cars, half in, half out as one of the heavy-set men commences a search, confiscating a multitude of weapons with a scoff.

You can’t see any other bodies, which is strange. Is Kennedy getting slow in his old age?

At the other car, a man with a blonde pony-tail is bent down, talking through the window to someone you can’t see. “Go on ahead with the package.”

The driver seems to protest, but ponytail shakes his head.

“We’ll take the rat elsewhere, have some fun… We’ll join you back at base after. Go.” He thumps the top of the car with his fist to emphasize his point.

The idling car now hits the gas with gusto, the tyres burning against the concrete before it skids out of sight.

The heavy-set man seems to have concluded his search of the unconscious agent by then, finishing with what looks to be Leon’s phone. He considers it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his shoe, the screen splintering and plastic cracking under his weight.

He then leans into the trunk before holding Leon’s arms behind his back and securing his wrists with what looks like a zip tie, before heaving up his legs and giving his ankles the same treatment.

You grit your teeth as you think – you don’t have much time. They’re not taking Leon to the HQ, so it’s not like you can catch up and let the rest of the squad know they’ve got a hostage.

The other car’s gone, one of the guys is distracted, if you just-

“Well, well…” There’s a gun pressed to the small of your back and your stomach sinks. You’d thought the two remaining were the ones you had in your eyesight, assuming three others had got back into the other car, but one seems to have been prowling. Fuck, you’re better than this usually. Are you and Kennedy both having an off day?

A thick forearm wraps around your throat in a headlock.

“Drop the gun.”

Before you can even think of how to get out of the hold, a knee is forced between your thighs, weakening your stance and preventing any sort of retaliation you might be able to achieve with your legs. The forearm tenses and cuts off all air, the order repeated and it is not until your grip on your gun goes limp, letting it drop to the floor that it relaxes, leaving you gasping for breath.

“We’ve already caught ourselves a rat this evening, suppose it makes sense we catch a mouse next.”

You try and throw your head back in desperation - if you break his nose he’ll definitely let go, but there’s not enough room and the arm around your throat squeezes again, but this time there is no relief, only a smug whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

 Everything went black.

You squint in the dark of what you assume is the car trunk – an eerie red glow emitting from the corners which you presume are the taillights – and your eyes slowly begin to adjust to find two icy blue ones staring up at you under familiar bangs. “Leon?” Your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s better than being dead.

“One and only. Gotta say, this is a surprise. Been a while.”

You try and roll off his chest entirely but it’s awkward and cramped. The trunk is not large enough to be accommodating two adults, let alone one as muscular as Leon. You manage to shift most of your weight off him, though your legs are somewhat still entangled, ankles crisscrossed together with the same zip tie treatment. You cough, trying to relieve the tightness in your throat. “What are you doing here? This is a BSAA op.”

“DSO had intel of a terrorist cell being supplied with virus samples.” He tries to shuffle back a little, take in your face after you lying atop of him unconscious for however long.

“It’s a fake – it’s our drop.”

“What?”

“I was doing surveillance to confirm they accepted the suitcase with the tracker – the rest of the pack is gonna intercept their base once co-ordinates are confirmed.”

You see him raise his eyebrow in the dim light. “Pack? Redfield still going by that wolf crap?”

 “Oh, because birds are so cool, right?” You retort, though you’re more annoyed at your situation than him.

“How’d they get you?”

“Does it matter?” You avoid the question, not wanting to tell him the real reason you’d got caught was because you’d been concerned seeing him being shoved into the trunk.

“We’ve gotta get out of these restraints. I can try and…” You trail off, your breath catching in your throat. You pull fruitlessly at the plastic holding your wrists, ignoring the sharp pain, and try and bring your knees up to your chest.

“Already tried, there’s not enough space.” Leon interjects. “Maybe if I was here solo…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mean to sound sarcastic, but with how you’re breathing it sounds more like a genuine apology. “I just thought it looked so fun when I saw you being kidnapped so I had to join in, you know?”

You’re breathing too heavy now, but it’s not getting down into your lungs. You’re not sure if it’s because your windpipe was crushed earlier, or that you’re on your side in an awkward position, or the fact that you’re stuffed in the trunk of a car with potentially limited oxygen.

Fuck.

“Hey.” Leon’s voice sounds foggy.

You shuffle as best you can, hoping a change in position might open up your airways, but it feels like as if the trunk is closing in around you.

“Hey. You good?”

“I…”

“You need to breathe deeper than that, okay?”

Deep down, in your logical mind, you know you do, but in the panic it’s just not happening, and your breaths grow only shallower. Your throat is too tight, the zip tie around your wrist and ankles is too tight, the space in here is too tight. Leon tenses his forearms behind his back for the umpteenth time, willing the plastic to break as he sees you falling further and further into distress. His words aren't getting through and he can't really touch you either, can't grab your hand or your shoulder and try and ground you for a moment to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry.” Leon throws his head forward and kisses you – not square on the lips, more at the corner of your open mouth, messy and awkward - but it’s enough to knock you out of hyperventilating as your scalp tingles.

“Breathe.” He orders, pulling back.

“You just-”

“Breathe. There’s plenty of oxygen in here – it’s not airtight. Breathe.”

You close your eyes and mouth and take a deep inhale through your nose, spluttering a little as you try to hold it. It takes a few cycles, Leon keeping silent as you gather your bearings, but eventually it steadies.

“Sorry.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just couldn’t think of how else to divert your focus.”

“No, it’s okay. Definitely worked.”

There’s an awkward silence before Leon shuffles ever so slightly.

“Promise you won’t tell Redfield? I’d rather not have my neck snapped.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You... You two aren’t a thing?”

“No.” Your brow furrows. “He’s my captain. My life’s already complicated enough fighting bioweapons without throwing in dating my superior.”

“Oh. I thought…” He shrugs as best as he can before you can see the infamous cocky grin. “Well, how about you and I grab dinner after this?”

“If there is an after this.” You try and swallow down the anxious feeling that’s crawling up from your stomach once more. “Being moved to a second location against your will is nev- Ugh!”

The car drives over a pothole but, thankfully, your head doesn’t collide with the top of the trunk. Leon groans as the impact threw him over onto his front before he mutters under his breath and starts to grind his hips.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think they missed a weapon.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up. “What?”

“A knife.”

“How’d they miss a knife?”

“Is that a complaint?” Leon scoffs.

“No, just seems a bit amateur hour. Can you reach it?”

“Not a chance, but, er…”, he clears his throat, “you might. We’re gonna have to try and adjust positions first, I’ll need your back to my chest.”

“Okay. Erm…” You scooch yourself forward with your hip and heel of your boot - easier said than done as the trunk grows narrower the further you go down, your knees bunching up towards your chest. “Like that?”

“Gimme a sec.” He responds through gritted teeth, trying to roll over again. Whatever make car this is, it’s not American – the trunk space is abysmal. Eventually, he manages it, shuffling himself forward until your fingers are pressed up against what feels like his chest.

“Hey!” He snaps with a poorly concealed laugh as your fingers twitch against the fabric. “That tickles.”

“Sorry – reflex. Where is it?”

“Well, put simply, my crotch.”

You give yourself a moment to let the words sink in.

“You keep a knife in your crotch? How have you not cut off your-?”

“It’s more a scalpel than a knife,” he cuts you off. “And it’s hidden away in the lining – in-built sheath – near the fly. Think you can find it?”

You close your eyes tight, thinking it might help you focus. Your thumb brushes up against something firm and you feel Leon tense behind you.

“Is that…?”

 “My jockstrap, thank you.” He clears his throat again. “Higher than that and more to the left.”

You try to follow his instructions, but it’s impossible to go any higher, unable to bend your elbows. “I don’t think I can. Can you shuffle down any?”

“Er…” He tries, shifting down an inch or so, his knees pressing into the back of yours in a spoon, his breath tickling your ear as he settles back down. “There. Bit to the left again.”

You close your eyes again, feeling the zip with your thumb and head to the left until you feel what feels like a thin tube.

“That?”

“Yep. Now, just try and bring it up and out. The blade’s at the bottom.”

That’s easier said than done as you press your thumbs either side of it and feel it move ever so slightly up. It’s a slow and steady process, not helped with the fact of how sweaty your palms are now getting with Leon pressed right up against you. “I think it’s nearly there. If the blade’s at the bottom, can you shuffle back? I don’t wanna slice you open.”

“You got a good grip?”

You swear you can hear the grin in his voice with that one.

“As good as I ever will.”

He scoots back a little, not as far as possible, but enough room so you can pull the scalpel implement up and twirl it around carefully in your grip so you can start to saw against the zip-tie.

“Got it.”

“Does it feel like it’s working?”

“Yeah. Just kinda awkwa-" There’s a stinging pain in your palm as the knife slices through and you hiss.

“What?”

“Got my palm.”

“Bad?”

“Had worse.” You bite your lip at the pain then, eyes squeezed shut again, trying to visualize what might be going on behind your back. Your movements are miniscule, a concern that that if you went any faster you’d slip in your enthusiasm and stab Leon.

It feels like hours when you finally feel the tension give and your wrists are free of the horrid plastic.  

“Got it. Just…” Mindful of your bleeding palm, you roll over with your good hand and lean up, pushing Leon face down so you can set to work on his wrists. It only takes a few confident saws, despite how slick your palm is with blood, before the agent groans and pulls his arms in front of him.

You pull your knees up to your chest and quickly slice through the restraints around your ankles, before handing the scalpel to Leon to do the same. His fingers pinch your other wrist instead, bringing your bleeding palm up close to his face to analyze in the dim light.

“Shit, that’s deep.”

“It’s fine,” you try and shake off his hold, but his grip remains firm.

“That’ll be the blood loss talking. Hold on.” He pulls up his shirt with his free hand and rips at the hem with his teeth, tearing off a rough strip, before he begins to wrap it around your palm in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“There.” He announces, tying it off with a tight knot. “Not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks.” You cradle it back against your stomach and hand him over the blade so he can finally cut through the zip-tie around his ankles. It seems just in time too, as the car begins to slow.

“How do you want to play this?”

“You sit tight, I deal with whoever opens the trunk… then we go for dinner.”

“You know I am not a sit tight kinda gal, right?”

“We’ve only got one knife.”

“One scalpel.” You correct.

“Exactly.” The car stops.

“Roll over, face the back.” He orders, taking control. “I’ll go the other way – they won’t be able to see our hands. When they lean in to haul me out…”

The dulled sound of the car doors opening leaves you with no choice but to turn away as instructed and your hand brushes up against Leon’s as you tuck them back behind your back. With the hand that’s not holding the scalpel, he grabs hold of your uninjured hand and squeezes your fingers in reassurance.

The trunk opens.

Leon is peering through his lashes, bangs over his eyes, as his captor comes into view, gun raised. He nudges Leon’s shoulder with the barrel, watching the agent’s head lull back before holstering his weapon and preparing to heave Leon out of the trunk.

And that’s when he takes his chance, scalpel in hand, straight into the jugular, his other hand nabbing the gun out of the holster as he twists himself up and out of the trunk before the man can hit the ground.

Before you can get up to join him, he slams the trunk back down. You curse, hearing back and forth gunshots before the trunk opens again a few minutes later, Leon stood there with an apologetic smile.

“Coast is clear. We’re down at the docks – I can’t believe I let myself get caught by these amateurs.”

“Well, I can’t believe you shut the trunk on me!” You shuffle forward using your good hand, relieved to be sitting upright at last, legs dangling out from the trunk.

“I’m sorry - I know most guys bring their dates flowers,” he pulls another confiscated gun out of his back pocket – must be his prize from the other guy – and offers it out to you, “but something tells me you’d accept this instead?”

You take it with a smirk and a retort too good to pass up on. “You’re really gunning for this dinner date, huh, Kennedy?”

He leans forward and pushes you back into the trunk with a kiss.

--

This is so, so silly but I had fun x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[sage-nebula]

Part of me wants to be like, "Felicia, Connol, Vander, and Silco were in the co-parenting equivalent of a polycule before the bridge incident." This makes sense at first, when you consider that Felicia said that she put Vander and Silco on the hook the second she told them that she was pregnant with Vi, and we see in the watercolor flashbacks later that Vander at the least used to watch the girls while Felicia and Connol were out. Given that Vander and Silco's relationship didn't fall apart until after the bridge incident, it stands to reason that Silco, too, would watch them.

But I can't square that with the fact that Silco was willing to kill both Vi and Powder the night of the incident at the cannery. He went up to Powder with the intention to stab her, and only chose not to when she tackle-hugged him and said that Vi had abandoned her (causing him to remember his own violent abandonment at Vander's hand). Later on, he still wants Vi dead, both when they encounter each other outside Vi and Powder's childhood home, and then finally at the cursed dinner party. Silco trying to shoot Vi was what triggered Jinx to shoot him. (Not that it was a conscious thought, on Jinx's part; she fired in the sound of the gunshot on instinct.)

If Silco had helped look after Vi and Powder prior to their parents' deaths, then he would have had to have known at the night of the cannery that they were Felicia's children. And if he knew that, and had a relationship with them prior to that, why was he so willing to kill them? The only reasoning I can think of is if he convinced himself that they'd been raised by Vander for enough years that they would see him as an enemy, too — that they would "betray" him, same as Vander. And to credit that line of thinking, Vi certainly set herself as his enemy after he captured and was going to kill Vander. (Understandably, but still.)

But that is me reaching for an explanation to try to square these two conflicting pieces of information together. Because Silco showed no hesitation at wanting to kill the children of his friend — and unlike with Vander, who strangled and tried to drown him, we're never told that he had a falling out with Felicia. Her death (and Connol's) was an accident; he threw the molotov cocktail at the enforcers, the riot broke out, and they were killed. He didn't want Felicia and Connol to die. He was trying to hurt the enforcers. Like Powder at the cannery, he was only trying to help.

So I don't understand why he was so willing to kill these kids that he must have had some affection for. Unless, as I said, he wrote them off because Vander was the one who took them in and raised them. He does, after all, call Vi "Vander's prodigy" when they encounter each other in s1e6, and his comments about how he had thought that she was "the prize" of her family indicates that he had paid some attention to them after the night on the bridge. So maybe that really is it, that he wrote them off as being too loyal to Vander, thinking that they would never see him as worth anything because of that.

But I wish we had an official answer, because man, this justification just doesn't feel strong enough.

(Side note: Part of me wonders if the reason why Powder tackle-hugged him is because she recognized him, if he did used to watch over her and Vi before their parents died. I would think any memories she would have of him would be weak, given how little she was when the bridge incident happened; as she says to Vi, what she remembers most about her mother was her scent. But that means that she does have some memories of their parents, and that's at around age 17, so it is possible that Powder, age 11 or so, recognized Silco, and that's why she hugged him instead of trying to run away when he approached her. Again, this is just guesswork / theorizing on my part, but I do wonder about that.)

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

"He is half of my soul, as the poets say"

Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader sees something on a job which got her realising life is too short

Warnings: angst, trauma, description of dead, english is not my native language

Word Count: 4.3k

The cold was slowly creeping up on you, and the sight before you could only mean one thing, you were dreaming, dreaming a nightmare.

The day started like every other, you all slept till noon and then George went to the Archive to collect information for your new case while Lucy, Lockwood and you prepared everything else.

The sun was already slowly setting and was turning everything around you into a dim light when you all met up with George. “Around sixty years ago, the house was owned by a young couple, Andrew and Mary Hoffman. They were brutally murdered by robbers.” George told the team as you entered said house.

The new owners had no connection to the killed couple, they weren’t even sure if it was one or two ghosts. They only reported that the living room and the second bedroom upstairs were colder than the rest of the house; two weeks ago at night, the rooms became so cold that the windows were freezing and they could see their own breath. This, plus a dreadful feeling, had brought the owners to Lockwood & Co. to get rid of their ghost problem.

You joined Lockwood & Co. half a year ago. Since then, your team had become your best friends, and you trusted them with your life. Of course, with Lockwood & Co. often times things took a turn that really nobody expected, but they had your back and you had theirs, so you knew that it didn’t matter what the night had in store, Lockwood & Co. would ace it.

With this in mind, you followed your team inside the kitchen. Like every good team, you knew your ins and outs, so you didn’t need to talk to know that it was your job to make tea while Lockwood searched for biscuits. You had like fifteen minutes before the darkness would settle upon East London, which was also enough time for a cup of tea and one or maybe two biscuits.

While you were busy preparing each cup of tea the way each member of Lockwood& Co. liked it, Lockwood found what he was looking for. And when he happily declared that the new owners had the good kind of biscuit, you couldn’t help but smile. Lockwood’s happiness always got you beaming, when he was happy, you were happy, probably because you were such good friends. At least that’s what you tell yourself when you were lying at night in your bed and couldn’t sleep because you were too busy thinking about how the laugh of your boss sounded or how his skin felt on yours when you accidentally touched at the kitchen table when you both were reaching for the same item. Maybe if you would stop for a moment and think about it, you would realise that you were head over heels in love with your boss and landlord, but for you denial was not just a river in Egypt.

“The police suspected Mary was killed first, they found her body in the living room. Andrew was found upstairs in the open door of the bedroom. They assumed, he heard the gunshot which killed Mary and wanted to see what happened”, George shared his grim research, and you pushed his cup over the counter to him. As thanks, he gave you a quick nod.

“So, we should split up”, Lockwood appeared next to you and cool like always he leaned against the kitchen counter. This was enough to make your heart skip a beat. It felt like every minute, it would just jump out of your ribcage.

“George and I, and you and Y/N, like always?”, asked Lucy sipping her tea.

Lucy was the best listener you ever met; Lockwood’s talent was great sight. You were like George; you got a bit of everything. You could see ghost, but no death-glow. You could hear the voices of visitors, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. Only your touch was better than average and saved you from the fate of a night watch kid. Sometimes when you touch something ghost infected, you could see, hear, and feel important moments of the ghost’s life. For you, these visions often felt like minutes, but it was only a few seconds.

But in Lockwood’s humble opinion, a few second were enough for you to get ghost-touched. For someone so reckless, he was terribly worried about your safety. Therefore, you got into more than one argument about this issue. If Lockwood had his way, you would sit back home, while your team was fighting ghost without you. But that was no life you wanted to live, and you made this clear. If Lockwood would ever force you to stay back at Portland Row, you would leave Lockwood and Co. This was the argument, which always won you the fight. When he couldn’t keep you safe by leaving you back home, Lockwood insisted, that on missions you always stayed by his side. He was the best swordsman of you four, so he was the best fit to protect you and himself from getting ghost-touched. You didn’t mind. It was nice to work close with Lockwood, when he wasn’t plunging himself head first into danger. But Lucy once claimed, with knowing smirk in her face, that he was doing it less, since you joined the agency.   

It was no surprise to everyone, that he agreed with Lucy, and before you knew it, you were standing in the living room. One look at your watch confirmed what you already felt, every minute the last light of the sun would disappear, and the night would begin. Unconsciously wrapping your jacket tighter around your frame, your fingers fiddled with your belt, trying to remove the thermometer.

You weren’t nervous-no- you weren’t more nervous than on any other mission. Of course, you didn’t know which kind of ghost you would encounter this night, but you were positive that you could handle it. To fail in front of Lockwood wasn’t an option.

Finally freeing the thermometer from your belt, you began to start tracking the temperature. This was your job, while Lockwood was kneeing in the middle of the room, probably examining the death-glow.

The closer you got to the fireplace, where the remains of a long-forgotten fire lay, the colder it became. When you came to a stop in front of the fireplace, your hair stood up, and you couldn’t help but tremble. Closing your eyes, you put your hand on the old stones of the fireplace, expecting them to be cold, but they were nicely warm.

“How odd”, you muttered, before you were hit by a vision.

The first you picked up was the warm, it was a stark contrast to the cold, you were feeling just seconds ago. You were still standing in the same spot in the same room, but beside the fireplace everything was different. The furniture and décor were an older style, bright sunlight shone through the window, and everything screamed home.

In the middle of the room, a couple were slow dancing to “Will You Love Me Tomorrow” from The Shirelles, they were laughing and the happiness they were emitting was luring you in. You couldn’t help but also smile, and for a moment you forget that this wasn’t real. As if you were under a spell, you watched the couple in awe and as he spun her around, you saw his face for the first time.

You inhaled sharp. This face in front of you, you would recognize everywhere. The man looked exactly like how you imagine Lockwood would look in maybe four or five years. He was dressed in the fashion of the 60s, and his eyes shined full of love. You could watch him like this forever.

Narrowing your eyes, you tried to get a better look at his dance partner. She had light brown hair and wore a pretty yellow dress. The pair did another turn, and you couldn’t believe your eyes. The woman in Lockwood’s arm were you. She was exactly looking like you. Maybe a few years older and a lot happier.

Lockwood was gazing at her like she was his world, and you would have given everything that your Lockwood would looking at you like he was looking at her. You would kill for it. As this thought plopped up in your head, the world around you shifted.

In one moment, everything around you were bright and warm in the next moment you stood in the dark lifeless living room and the cold rushed over you, like somebody emptied a bucket full of ice water over your head.

A bad taste in your mouth and a creeping feeling of dread was all the warning you got, but it was also all the warning you needed. Pulling out your rapier, you spun around to come face to face with the ghost of Mary Hoffmann. But what you saw let you freeze like a stone statue. You weren’t ghost-locked, you just couldn’t believe it. It was like looking into a mirror, just that the own reflection was dead.

Shortly the thought, that the ghost was playing with you, crossed your mind, but that was not how your visions worked. Mary looked exactly like she had in the vision; she was your Doppelgänger.

Tearing your eyes from the sight, you never wanted to see in your life, you looked to Lockwood. Normally Lockwood tried to look cool, calm, collected, but right now his eyes darted between you and the ghost, not believing what he saw.

Nobody of you were moving, the ghost looked at you and when your eyes locked you couldn’t even lift a finger. You could feel her sadness and her grieve. But under all there was anger, an anger you could understand all too well. Maybe you didn’t know how it felt to lose your own life, but you already felt the grieve and anger after you lost a loved one.

“Darling, please step back slowly”, Lockwood tried to sound calm, but you could see right through it. But his voice had always the same effect on you, it brought you back.

Removing your gaze from the ghost in front of you, your eyes met Lockwood’s. That was enough to stop the growing panic. He was here with you, nothing too bad would happen.

Clutching your rapier like your life depended on it, you followed Lockwood’s order. Slowly you took a step back, then another till your back hit the wooden shelf of the fireplace. All the time you watched the ghost cautious, waiting for it to attack you. But Mary only followed curious your movement until you touched the wood.

It was like you flipped a switch. In one moment, she was peaceful, in the next she wasn’t any more. With a high wail she lunged for you, and before you could react Lockwood was there, his rapier slicing through her. Ectoplasm splattered around, and a few drops hit your boots. And the ghost? She vanished but both of you were agents and knew that it was only a matter of time, that she would reappear. Time you could use to search for the source.

“Are you OK?”, Lockwood sounded concerned.

Like the liar you were, you sent him a small smile, “Sure.”

Of course, you weren’t OK, not after seeing this. But you were too professional, to let it affect your work. Therefore, you took a deep breath and tried to slow your thoughts. First came the work and when you survived the night, you could handle your feelings.

You weren’t new to this field, your experience told you, that it wasn’t a coincidence that Mary acted up as you touched the wood. Her source had to be close. A short look at Lockwood confirmed your suspicion.

“We should lay out the chains”, Lockwood suggested, and you nodded. Both of you knew, that there was no guarantee what would happen, if you touched the source and to find it you had to touch it. Also, there was the possibility, that the ghost was out to get you. Maybe it also realized that you both were a lookalike and now wanted to kill you for it.

“I grab them and Darling, remember no matter what happens, I have your back.”

While Lockwood laid out the chains, he insisted on doing it, you stood with raised rapier next to him, ready to fight off the ghost, if it would appear. But you both were lucky; Mary didn’t show up.

Now you stood inside the iron chains, slowly reaching out to touch the wood a second time. You could feel it, you were so close. Closing your eyes for better concentrating, you carefully let your hands wander over the shelf. When you touched to deep cuts in the wood, which awfully resembled the letters A and M, you knew, that you found it. But before you could inform Lockwood, another vision came crashing over you like a wave and pulled you under.

You were in the same room as in the last vision. But now it was night, and you were looking down the barrel of a gun. Her angst, your angst, was all consuming. Your whole body was shacking.

“Please”, her and at the same time also your voice, was not more than a whisper.

That was all you needed to realize, that in this vision you weren’t just watching her, you were her. And now you would learn how it felt like to die. A small tear ran down your cheek, and you didn’t know if it was Mary or you, who was crying.

Before you could beg again, the robber pulled the trigger. The pain you felt as the bullet priced your flesh was worse than anything you had experienced before. Falling to the floor, you wanted to scream, but the only sound which left your mouth was a quit whimper.

You could feel the warm blood rushing out of your body and starting to form a puddle beneath you. You were too young to die. You had so much you wanted to do, you had so many people you had so say goodbye to. You just couldn’t leave George, Lucy and him- oh you would miss him so much.

With the last of your strength, you tried pressing down on your wound. Burning hot pain shot through your body. But still your warm blood was running through your finger, and you were running out of time. Any breath could be your last one. Everything was cold and you were so tired. You would love nothing more, than to just close your eyes, so you did. Your lungs took their last breath, and then you died.

Just to suddenly standing next to Marys/ your dead body. There was only one thing worse than seeing your own ghost, and that was seeing your own lifeless body. By the sight in front of you, your blood was running cold, and you felt like throwing up.

“Darling, everything alright? What was this noise?”, you heard Lockwood’s voice from above. The robber exchanged looks before they followed his voice upstairs.

Knowing what was to come, your whole body went stiff.

No-no-no-no, that could not happen. You couldn’t let him die. Panicking, you searched for something, that could be used as a weapon, but when you tried to reach for the poker, your hand just went through. In this vision, you were the ghost, you couldn’t change anything.

You jumped when two shots rang out, another tear was running down your cheek. Damn, you knew that you didn’t want to see it, but you couldn’t help it.

Rushing up the stairs, there he was lying. His lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling; all sparks long gone from them. Your legs gave up under you and with a loud wail you felt to the floor. You were wrong earlier; the worst sight of your life was Lockwood’s dead body here in front of you. And you would never fully recover from it.

You were still crying ugly when you came back. When you said yes to this job, you really didn’t expect to get so traumatised. Your heart was beating so fast like you just ran a marathon. Trembling all over, you allowed yourself a quick look over your shoulder.

There he stood, with his back to you, he was facing the room. His rapier was resting in his hands, while he tried to look less tense than he was feeling. Relief flooded through you at the sight of him. It hasn’t been real, he was alive. You suppressed a loud sob and forced yourself to appear calm on the outside, even if there was a storm raging inside.

“I found the source, do you have a crowbar?”, hearing the sound of your voice, Lockwood turned around, which was a bad mistake.

Of course your luck just ran out and Mary decided, that this was the best moment to reappear again. Would it be a typical mission for Lockwood and Co. if something like this wouldn’t happen? You guessed not.

Seeing her appear right behind Lockwood, her arm outstretched, gave you a heart attack.       

They say when something terrible happens, you witness it in slow motion. But that wasn’t true for you. It always happened so fast.

“Watch out”, you yelled, while your hands worked hastily to pull out a salt bombe out of your jacket pocket. While Lockwood spun around and only escaped the ghost-touched by jumping back, you threw the bomb. It hit Mary right in the chest, and with a high-pitched wail she backed off.

“I will fend her off”, without warning, Lockwood threw with his free hand his crowbar to you. Luckily for you, you caught it.

To be completely honest, this was a shitty job. You hated it with all your bones. If it were up to you, this night couldn’t end fast enough.

So you took Lockwood’s crowbar and bought it down onto the shelf with all your anger bundled and a roar of frustration. Two hits were enough to cause the part of the wood with the initials to splinter.

Behind you, you heard Lockwood taunting the ghost to distract her from you. Because one thing for sure, Mary hated what you were doing to her source.

There was no reason for you to drag this out any longer. Therefore, you took your silver net and threw it over the little piece of wood, you broke off. In an instance, the chaos stopped.  

“Are you alri-”, Lockwood never got to finish his sentence, he got too distracted from the loud pounding footsteps, which were running down the stairs.

The next moment, Lucy appeared in the doorway.

“Thank god, you are alive”, with a relived sigh, she threw her arms around Lockwood. Confused, his eyebrows raised.

Would it be any other day, you might have become jealous at the sight in front of you- you could never hug Lockwood light this- but this job had been hell. You only felt tired, so tired.

“We were fighting against a ghost, which looked exactly like you”, Lucy added when she realised how confused Lockwood looked. You already put two and two together, thanks to your visions.

“And suddenly he just vanished, did you found both sources by any chance?”, George chimed in as he entered the room.

“Quite possible”, picking up the silver net, you were careful not expose the source.

“Here”, without further ado, you handed the net into George’s unexpected hand. You wanted nothing more to do with it.

Not waiting for his response, you pushed past him and rushed out of the house. You knew that it wasn’t your smartest move to just run out of a house in the middle of the night. But you still had your rapier and you needed fresh air.

Trembling all over, you took a deep breath. What the hell had been this shit show? And why had they looked exactly like Lockwood and you? You wanted to cry, but you hadn’t any tears left. Wiping your cheeks to remove the salty remains, you crumbled a little. You could still feel the warm blood on your hands, you could still see Lockwood lying dead in front of you.

But before you could collapse, you heard steps behind you. Turning your head, you saw Lockwood hurrying to you. Without saying anything, he pulled you in his warm embrace, and you melted under his touch. Laying your head against his chest, your hands griped his coat, like you were afraid he would leave you. You could hear his hearth racing, and you were sure, that your heart was beating even faster.

Like this, you stayed for what felt like forever. It seemed like both of you wanted to make sure, that what happened inside the house wasn’t more than a bad dream. As if you stayed long enough like this, you could undo what you had seen insight.

After a moment Lockwood broke the silence, “For a second I thought you were her and that you-”, right in the middle he stopped, and you looked up into his pained face.

This was the moment, that you realised, how close you were. You would just have to stand on your tiptoes and your lips would be brushing his. But you didn’t dare. What if he didn’t like you as much as you like him? Then you try to kiss him, ruining everything.

“I never felt such relief in my life when I saw you standing there”, pausing, Lockwood also seemed to realise in which position you both were. Blushing, he took a step back, and you wanted to scream.

“Darling, will you be OK after tonight?” Certainly not. Maybe you put a stop to the haunting, but for sure her memories will haunt you.           

To 85.66% you were sure, that after this night Lockwood told the rest of the team, that you both had fought against your lookalikes. You could see it in the pitiful glances they gave you.

The first days after the job, you mainly spend in your room. At the latest, when you didn’t protest when Lockwood suggested that you stay home for the next job, everyone knew that something was wrong with you.

Every night in your dreams, you and Lockwood died again and again. Every night you woke up heavily panting, and your bed was soaked with sweat. Rational, you knew that neither you nor Lockwood had died, but it had felt so real.

Even when the light was shining through your window, you felt the adrenalin pumping through your veins, ready to fight or flight. The worst part was, that you knew your fear wasn’t so wrong. As an agent, every job could be your last. A little slip up and you could be dead.

To distract yourself, you tried to think of reasons why Mary and Andrew Hoffman looked exactly like you and Lockwood.

One time you read, that every person had seven doppelgängers, but the probability that your lookalike married Lockwood’s was so low. There must be another explanation, you just knew it.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the knock on your door. Only when Lockwood entered your room, you got brought back.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”, you asked the first thing, that came into your mind, before he could say anything.

Taken by surprise, he came to an abrupt stop in the middle of your room.

“I-I- I mean”, he stuttered, and slowly a blush began creeping up his face. From the eloquent Lockwood you often watched was no sign to see.

“Are you thinking about them?”, he asked instead of answering your question. He didn’t even have to say their names for you to know who he was talking about.

“Yes, they got me thinking. How odd it is that both were our lookalikes?”

“And they married each other.” Lockwood’s brown eyes met yours and your heart stopped.

“Yes, and they married each other”, you repeated breathless, while Lockwood came closer.

“May I?”, before you knew it, he was sitting next to you on the bed. Only now did you realize he had swapped his fine suit for a simple grey jumper. If it was even possible, your heart started to beat even faster. Discreetly, you tried to wipe off your sweaty hands on your leggings.

Hoping to gain control over your own body again, you took a deep breath. “You didn’t answer my first question, do you believe in reincarnation?”

Nervously, you bit on your lips, and Lockwood’s eyes followed the movement before his eyes lingered.

While fidgeting with his hands, Lockwood cleared his throat. Never before you saw him so nervous.

“I would like to believe that my soul will always find yours, no matter when and where we are.”

He was looking anywhere but at you. Which was fine, totally fine, because you looked like an idiot.

Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Or was it just wishful thinking?

The last job has showed you, that the life could be awfully short, you could die any time. Sometime love was worth taking a risk on and if you knew one thing it was, that you loved the reckless idiot in front of you.

Gripping his jumper, you brought his lips down to yours. First, he wasn’t kissing back, and you were scared, that you did a big mistake. But then he returned the kiss, and you felt like flying.

Far too quickly you separated and breathless you gazed into each other eyes.

“I would also like to believe that my soul will always find yours.”    

[cybercl0ne]

A Duty to Owe // Ghost x Medic!female reader // One-shot // 18+

Summary: You're reunited with Ghost after he ends up in your care. 

TW: Angst at beginning, 18+, Swearing, names used: baby, good girl, love, etc., gunshot wound(s), p in v, potential impreg, unprotected sex. 

You were notified of another patient in a mild condition. Abruptly the staff only door blasted open with a frantic co-worker flashing their attention in your direction. 

“Y/n we need you, stat!” They yelped. You laid the freshly ground coffee on the table and sped off into the ER room, giving a reassuring nod to the frantic co-worker that sped off with you. 

“What’s the status?” You demanded, getting on your gloves as you entered the room. Not yet seeing the patient before you and the group. 

“Mild to critical. Tactical wounds, several.” The tech next to you added. 

“Any stray bullets?” You ask pulling up your surgical mask, scrambling for the respective tools. 

“One clean through, two other punctured lower arm and left abdomen.” 

You finally get a clean view at your patient. It was Simon. Simon “Ghost” Riley. You knew it was bound to happen one day. The infamous “Ghost” getting hit and in need of medical help. Although he probably was defiant to the bitter end of his consciousness.

“Alright let’s get to work, I need forceps.” You claim, taking a big sigh before readying yourself. 

Ghost stirred awake as you lifted his shirt to get a view at the healing process. 

“Well good morn’ to you to Y/n.” He gruffly stroked out. You didn’t realize how much it spooked you to hear his voice after being in his room multiple times with dead silence. 

“Like the view that much?” He teased, a small groan escaping his lips as you prodded at his wounds. 

Ignoring his small antic you continue to trail your cold fingers up and down his abdomen. Ghost shivers under your cold yet slim and gentle hands. His rough, war raged hands flew to his shirt, pulling it down to “end” your little examination. 

“Hey, stop being fussy. The only view I’m interested in is this bullet wound.” You counterfeit. You slapped his hand away, finally meeting face to face with him. You saw his eyes flash with fiery emotions. He always did love the attitude you struck him with. 

“You did a good job doc.” 

“Thanks Simon.” You slyly snuck in, smiling at him before looking back at his raw scratched up chest. He gruffed in disprovement. 

“Y’know I don’t want you calling me that.” He whispered, trying to sit up straight.

“And you don’t want me to check your clearly attention needed wounds. Pick one.” 

“Fucking minx..” he whispered, closing into your ear. You jumped, jumping up out of the seat that you pulled up next to him. 

“Simon!” You said flushed as you readjusted yourself. 

Simon just gave you a shit eating grin as his arms looped around your waist, pulling you in. 

“M’ sorry, ya big baby.” He continues as you slowly fall into his arms. 

“You gonna let me finish checking on my patient?” You ask condensing. You roll your eyes as you watch how ghost shrugs. 

“Maybe, depends. Is it me?” He teases. He finally let’s go reluctantly as you roll your chair back to you, this time focusing on his buff arm. 

“How’s Soap and the rest of the team.” You change the subject. You hadn’t seen them in forever and missed the way Końig would make jokes about your accent. And how Soap and you could stay up for hours talking about nothing. 

“There fine, but now that you mention soap..” he adds. 

“You should join us on base and field again.” 

“Ghost you know I don’t do that anymore.” You sulk. You remember the endless amount of people you couldn’t save, the eyes you’d look into watching them fade into the other side. 

“I know, just think about it. You can shoot like you got a damn head, your a fucking divine medic. And I- we need people like you on the team.” He tries to get you to look at him as he pampers you with praise. 

“Ghost I’m sorry your medics are shit but that’s not my problem. It’s different when your behind the scenes, cleaning up after the bloodshed.” You whined. It’s not that you didn’t miss everyone and lost your lust for saving people live, but you didn’t think you could mentally do it anymore. 

Ghost finds his hands to your waist again, knowing that normally he’d never get this close to other people. But you weren’t other people. You were special. 

“It’s been three years. Three fuckin’ years since I’ve seen you Y/n. I don’t wanna have to take another bullet to see you again.” You scoffed lightly. 

“Is that what you did. You risked your life to end up in here to see me?” 

“No, I just requested that you work on me.” He says, closing in, wanting to giggle at your worried and pouty face. 

You watched as his face fell closer to yours. You slowly felt yourself closing into him. “You know your impossible right?” You scoff, staring at his juicy lips. His mask just barely covering his nose. you went limp as Simon kissed you while laughing. You fell into the way your lips smacked so sensually against each other. He used his oversized hand to guide you onto him. 

“W-wait Si, we can’t…” you whimper into his mouth. He peeked his eyes open as he ignored your pleas, watching you try to fight against him. 

“Come on baby, scared someone’s gonna walk in? That never stopped you before.” You would’ve been lying if you said your heart didn’t do a somersault. You once again lost complaint and continued to kiss him while you straddled him.

“Don’t know how much I missed this, n’ you.” He added, unbuttoning your classy uniform. 

You grinded into his already bulky bulge feeling the way it’s veins made themselves visible from underneath his boxers. 

As sounds of you both kissing filled the room a sudden knock infiltrated the atmosphere. 

Shit. You both thought at the same time as you scrambled to button your shirt back, and Simon readjusting his all to obvious hard on. 

“Doctor Y/n? Are you here?��� One of your intern nurses asked timidly. 

“Y-yes, I’m here h-hang on a minute.” You spoke, trying to regain yourself. As you composed yourself you opened the door and talked with the nurse about diagnostics. 

As she left you faced your heated attention to Simon who was impatiently waiting for your return. 

“I’m asserting a week of bedrest.” You assign with your clipboard from the nurse.

“No can do sweetheart.” He shakes, clearly disapproving. 

“Well it’ll have to do because I don’t want you moving out of bed Simon Riley.” You put your hands on your hips, finalizing the decision.

“You won’t be getting any action for the rest of this week and some, so get comfortable.” You say patting his leg and motioning out of the room. 

“Aww, no goodnight kiss?” He teases on the way out. You calmly walk back and give him a smack on the forehead. 

“Goodnight Simon.” You wave with your back turned to him. He chuckles to himself as he rubs his forehead where your touch was. 

He also gently rubs his hard on that hadn’t gone away. 

You fill your eyes with papers as you feel your eyes getting annoyingly droopy. A sudden knock from your office door wakes you from your doze. 

“Mhm, come in.” You say, not looking at the door or the intruder. You instead focus your eyes between the computer full of assignments and papers of documents. 

When you finally look up, you see Simon sitting in the chair closest to you, waiting for you to notice him. 

“Thought I told you your on bedrest.” You prod, pointing at him with your inked out pen. 

“Don’t listen.” He simply put it, shrugging. He stood up, rounding the desk to fit behind you.

“You need sleep darling. You're really gonna need it.” He says, kissing your temple. 

You nod, deciding to listen to reason rather than fight on something you know you need. 

He gives you a flick to your temple as he walks out of your office as you scowl.

“Goodnight Y/n.” He smirks.

After a long week, you found yourself boarding with Ghost onto a plane, readying yourself for the mission. You’d recognized that it had been awhile since you were out of your element, only really remembering how to shoot on a dime. 

“Nervous Y/n?” Końig ask, looming in your direction while toying with his delay device. 

“Well you know I haven’t been in this environment for awhile.” You scratch. He gives you a reassured smile. 

“You’ll do great y/n.” Soap adds, taking no time to take up as much space next to you as possible. 

“As a prize after the mission you should let me take ya’ out to eat.” He slickly adds in. Ghost shoots daggers at Soap, clearing his throat to remind him of his presence. 

“Oh i'm sorry LT, did you want to say somethin’?” He flashes a grin towards Ghost. Ghost balls his hand in a fist where he sits. 

“Focus on the mission Johnny.” He coldly commands. 

“Just makin’ small talk LT.” he smacks his lips before turning to you asking you about a life update. 

You oblige and talk with interest as ghost stares deeply at you. Almost enough to want to trade places with Soap. He watches how your eyes shine with enthusiasm to help people. But that’s just who you were. Someone who had light, and wanted to radiate it to others. 

When it was time to deploy from the plane, the plane rumbled telling its passengers to jump.

You hastily double check your straps and wraps as you embarrassingly forgot how parachuting works in the last three years. You feel ghost wrap his arms around your leg, searching the work himself. He readjust some small parts, stretching and tightening your waist strap. 

“So handy Ghost.” Końig says as he observes how his hands linger on your body a little too long. 

“Y’know that ain’t it.” Ghost denies while you and Końig knew it was. 

“Yeah it’s not like that końig.” 

“You can lie to Soap guys but you can’t lie to me.” “Mexico guys.” He peeks at you two, sharing looks of clear disbelief. You both instantly remembered the steamy incident that happened between you both. You both were sure nobody had heard your pounded screams and desperate mewls but it was a lie since Końig was apparently living proof. 

Końig jumps out of the plane a little after having a smirk session with you two. 

“You ready?” Ghost nudges. You take a deep breath, nodding. Ghost grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him as he leaps from the still moving jet. 

You land on the moist ground, your nose filling with gunpowder and tropical humidity. You pushed up with a teammate. Scoping the area for the injured and enemy. 

A sudden explosion takes you by surprise as you pull your teammate who was running in that direction behind a rock. He starts stuttering, breathing heavily, and not being able to focus his eyes on you. 

“I-I..h-he.” The man babbled. You slapped him out of his provocative hyperventilation.

“Focus soldier! Your ok!” You shout over the instant gunfire and explosions over the city. 

Ghost pulls behind you two soon after, his gun smoking from usage.

“You guys alright?!” He shouts, you nod, focusing and drawing your gun out before shooting a guy that tried to push up to you. 

“Good girl!” He praises. You take cover as you hear a sniper try to take your head, just nearly missing by a hair. You draw your walk-ie talkie to announce a sniper on building 5. 

“On it!” Końig radios. You then hear a single shot and końig radio again. 

“Taken care of, you should be able to push up!” Końig replies. You thank him, logging off. 

You command the little team you traveled with to move up, you quickly moved with them, finding your own present in the process. You stab the intruder and move the body to make it your grounding place.

“UAV dropping!” Ghost screams over the radio motioning you and the straggler to move in toward the Churchyard. You run to the steps, seeing Soap protecting his flank as he gets stray bullets. 

You cover him, taking out some of the guys that knew his location. 

“Thanks Y/n!” Soap mentions to you as you push into the church. Soap follows while Ghost and the man you were with before took behind. 

Another explosion landed but this time it was landing right towards the church. You heard the small screech and listened to how close it was. 

“SOAP WAI-“ it was to late as your body was launched to the wall, of the courtyard. When you sat up it was all filled with smoke and you were covered in dead grass. You coughed franticly searching for something, anyone. You notice Ghost over in the small corner that he was blown to. You rush to him instantly, checking if he was stable. He chuckles and grabs your arm, telling you he’s alright as he tries to restabilize himself.

You flash your head and see Soap laying of the church steps. You rush towards him, as soon as you got to him fire started opening on you instantly. You hastily pull and lift Soap to safety inside of the confession booths. As you lay him down he smiles at you proving how he’s at least still alive. 

It’s not until Ghost rounds the corner that you notice your hurt. A bullet through the abdomen, shit. You turn away from Ghost, trying to assist Soap with your opposite side. 

“How bad is it doc?” Soap mumbles. 

“Y-you’ll be f-fine..” you shakily breathe out. They both look at you instantly with the same face. 

“You ok Lad?” Soap questions. You hide the wound, knowing that if Ghost finds out he’ll get himself killed. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“You got your gun on you Johnny?” He pats his side, showing his small yet effective pistol. 

“Never leave home without it.” He chuckles. You observe his leg where he was hit and see that at best it’s a minor sprain, with maybe some stray nails that stabbed his leg. You then see the giant gash that flew inside his leg. It was glass. You wanted to pull it out but instead decided against it so he doesn’t die from blood loss. 

You go to grab your radio only to notice how it’s not there. Double shit. “We have to go, Soap protect yourself until we get back!” You command. He nods as ghost and you motion to walk out of the room. You fall back to your knees as the sharp and unignorable pain forced you to sit. You started huffing hard, staring at your hand that covered the wound overflow with blood. 

“Shit!” Soap shouts. 

Ghost turns around, noticing how you weren’t behind him. 

“Fuck! Y/n!” He drops to the floor beside you, dropping his gun in the process. 

Soap returns fire to the enemies pushing into the debris filled building. 

“Don’t worry I can hold them off!” Soap calls, trying to calm Ghost. 

“Fuck sake Y/n!” He grumbles. You uncover your hand to show the wound, you look up at him and motion for your kit. 

“S…stop bleeding.” You whispered out, trying to wrap the white bandage around your waist. Ghost’s eyes shared nothing but pain for you as he scrambled to stop the bleeding. You felt your strength weakening as you fell limp in your arms, the burning halting progress. 

“No,no,no. Don’t leave me Y/n! Please don’t go! Stay awake love!” He screams. With your little strength you touch his hand that rested on your stomach.

“Ghost. Grab your gun…” he shook his head, defiant till the bitter end, or what felt like the end. You fully went limp, your heavy eyes closing to gain some sort of energy. 

“Bravo 07…Ghost what’s going on up there? What’s your status?” Końig calculated. 

Ghost grabbed his radio, “Końig! I need medical support now!” Ghost demanded.

“Medical support on the way!” Końig radios back. His voice more frantic. 

White noise filled ghost ears as he watched you and Soap getting lifted to urgent care. 

Ghost was making Końig dizzy as he paced the room back and forth. 

“Ghost she’ll make it. That girls tough as nails.” Końig tried to reason. Ghost was to busy ignoring Końig to think about reason, just thinking about how your limp body was straggled through the ER doors, eyes that didn’t even flutter. 

“God..oh god… this is all my fault.” Ghost sighs, finally sitting in one of the chairs that made him look bigger. 

“You know you can’t blame yourself.” Końig places his hand on ghost shoulder, sitting down next to him. 

“No Końig, it is. I pushed her to come to this wretched mission.” Końig sat in silence as he tried to think about a common answer. 

“How’s Soap?” Końig asked, trying to change the subject a little. 

“He’s alright.” Ghost sighs, standing up to pace again. 

Him and Końig sat in a penetrating silence. 

“Y’know when she gets out of this, take her somewhere nice. Treat her to dinner. Something fun.” Końig slouches. Ghost thinks for the first time tonight. ‘Somewhere outside of the field?’ Does such a thing happen? He sat in thought, it was short lived as he knew if you didn’t make it… he couldn’t even bear to think of warm thoughts yet.

“Ghost…she’s her own person, she accepted out of free will. Remember she’s not a child.” Końig said, standing up as Ghost did. 

You felt your body lifting in between limbo. It’s be light then heavy, shifting with the tide of the world. You woke up in a strange bed. It was extra strange as the bed was in the middle of a beach. You tried to remember what you were doing as you were in completely different clothes. That’s when you heard the faint sound of laughter. Simons laugh to be specific. You got up, your feet digging into the sand you walked on. 

“Stabilize her! I need another set of hands stat!” 

You ignore the faint ringing in your head and made your way to Simon. He was standing at the ocean's tip, letting his toes be swept in the shallow bits of the water. The sea was calm and collected as the tide shortened when getting to close to the sand. 

“We need blood transfusion! Grab the syringe. She’s losing blood by the minute!” 

“Simon?” You call out. Your voice echoed until it reached his ears, his doting eyes turned to you with a smile you’d only seen a number of times. 

“Com’ here.” He whispered. You obliged and stood beside him, turning to face him. 

“What is this place? What are we doing here?” You asked as he held your hand tightly. 

“Extracting the bullet now. Keep her breathing steady!” 

“Y/n. Y’know I love you very much.” Simon confessed. You continued to look at him, the waves getting stronger, roaring like your pounding heart. 

“…yeah…” you answered. You finally looked forward at the beach that stood before you both. 

“Can you see it, love? The sun blazes just right when you look at it here.” He claims as the crashing tides catch wilder. You try to focus on the words he’s saying but with the overwhelming sound of waves crashing and the constant lingering sound of beeping you couldn’t focus at all. 

“Si..do you hear that?” You said peeking around trying to find the source of the noise. You looked over to where Simon was, just to realize he’s not there. He was no longer holding your hand, doting on you with a loving look, he was nowhere. 

You fell to the ground as the beeping got harder to tune out. “S-Simon I-I’m scared.” You whispered as you curled into a ball on the sand. You felt a shelter build over you as Simon wrapped his body along yours. 

“Don’t be scared, just wake up, my love.” 

You looked up to see the crashing wave that was high enough to eat you whole, you watched as it swooped down to take you into its den. 

You closed your eyes one last time, this time only hearing the faint sound of beeping. 

“She’s alive, good job everyone.” 

The tired and weary surgeon takes a step out of the Emergency Department as Ghost dashes to the door that he’d been waiting for. 

“How is she? Is she ok? Is she alive?” Ghost asked so many questions that the surgeon didn’t bother trying to keep up. 

“Sir she’s alive. She’s stable and alive.” The surgeon confirms. Ghost looks at Końig and his face is full of relief. He can tell that Końig didn’t want to run the risk of having to drag a mourning and guilty Ghost home. 

Just as Ghost was about to rush off to find you, Soap wheeled in smiling. 

“Hey guys, miss me?” He peers. Końig rushes to Soap, excited and telling him how you were ok. 

“What room is she?” He asked. The surgeon blinked a couple of times before churning his throat. 

“You can’t see her right now sir, I’m afraid it’s against policy-“ 

“Ya’ think I give a fuck about your policy? If you won’t tell me what rooms she’s in I’ll just find it myself.” Ghost threatened. When he saw that the surgeon wasn’t budging he pushed past him and went on his search to find you. 

Końig and Soap lacked behind as they apologized for Ghost behavior, and trying to catch up to him as he kept speeding up. 

“So I guess this means the Lad is really off limits.” Soap sulks. 

“Yep, unless you want him to put you here.” Końig adds, pushing Soap down the hallway. 

You stirred away, stubbornly confined in a cocoon why the tight bedsheets. You felt a numbing pain as you tried to sit up. As you did you saw a blonde fluff laying at the end of your side. Simon rested against your legs, clearly worn out and asleep. It wasn’t long as he instantly shot up at the sudden amount of movement. 

“Good morning Ghost.” You smiled as you petted his fluffed hair. He looked at you in disbelief. You snickered at his reaction, Ghost reaching for water to give you. 

“Y/n I thought I’d lose you.” Ghost whispered as he clasped onto your face. You smiled loosely at him as you kissed his stubble face. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Simon Riley.” You kissed again. 

He laughed with guilt, but also overjoyed. 

His head hung low as you still held onto his face. You lifted it up making him meet you eye to eye. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, observing how his demeanor wasn’t cold but distant. 

“It’s all my fault. I made you go out there. You would have never gotten hurt if it weren’t for me!” He explained, dumping his heavy guilt on top of you. 

You clicked your tongue as you melted into his face. 

“Simon, it’s not your fault. I wanted to go on this mission, do you know how long I’ve wanted to see you all again? How much I wanted to see you?” 

“But-“ 

“Simon, it's not the first bullet I’ve eaten, and it certainly won’t be the last. What matters is that you can hold me without having to put me in a body bag.” You explain. You watch as he listens to your reason, smiling a gentle smile as he closes in peppering your face with comfort kisses. 

He pauses for a minute, taking you in. He slowly leans into your face heading for your lips that he’s wanted to taste since the beginning. 

You both melt into each other as you feel the emotion Ghost was implying. It wasn’t a kiss of pure lust, or plain sexual attraction, it was a kiss of fear and passion. The fear that he might lose you if he doesn’t kiss you, and the passion that burned inside him when he was around you. 

“Don’t ever leave me again you minx.” He whispered in your ear. You felt your heart flutter as you melted in his arms. You engulfed him in a deep hug, allowing his hands to travel to your waist.

Just as you two were about to get “handsy” a burst through the door knocked the semi romantic moment. 

“Końig and Soap!” You cheered. You were glad to see them both ok, as Soap wheeled to your bedside. 

“Hey doc. How ya feelin’” Soap questioned. 

“Better than I did a few hours ago.” You scratched your head, claiming. The square giggled as you sat with your feet hanging off the bed that Ghost and you were sitting on. 

After a few days you were discharged from the hospital, prescribed minor pain meds but other than that you were taken for leave at your job so now was the time for a vacation. You daydream of what you could do now that you had actual time off. 

You stepped out of the hospital, only to be met by Ghost. He had left to go back to base a few days ago so your face was puzzled when you saw him in casual clothes, his car pulled to the parking lot, and no one else around. 

“Hey Ghost. Didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you were on duty.” You question, still trying to see if Soap or Price was with him. 

Ghost sighed, nervous as hell and fidgety. 

“No. I asked for timed leave..” you smiled at him, making his heart flutter and finding himself even more nervous. 

“That’s good! Lord knows everyone on the team could use timed leave.” You joke. 

You motion to an opposite direction as Ghost grabs your arm without warning. You stare at him with patience as he loosens his grip. 

“Where are you goin’?” He asked curiously. 

“Home, I got a timed leave too. I don’t want to waste it at the hospital.” You joked again. 

You watched as Ghost cleared his throat, straightening himself for you. 

“Then hop in my car and waste your leave with me.” He finally spat. You felt your face growing with heat as you nodded, accepting and hopping in the car. 

You two made small talk on the way home, him talking about what meals he wanted to eat as they didn’t have them on base. You talked about back home and how you sort of missed your family. 

As the car rolled to a stop you realized that you both were at a restaurant. 

He let your side of the car out, watching you step out and in awe.

“You just wanted to take me out, huh?” You slyly ask, looking over at Ghost.

“You knew and you still teased me, fuckin’ hell.” He playfully who rolled his eyes, latching his arm to yours as you both went into bananbee’s. 

As he pulled into his driveway to his house you stepped out of the car to meet him at the front door. “Huh, I didn’t know there was a pin.” You talk to yourself as you fiddle with your shirt. 

He walks up shortly after, pulling out a set of keys and unlocking the door. As soon as you both entered he snuck down and started feasting on your lips. 

“S-Simon! At least let me take off my jacket!” You squealed as he hungrily kept smacking his lips against yours.

As a reply he just grunted, ripping the annoying jacket off your body. You bumped into the wall as his force on you was so strong. He broke the kiss, panting and wanting. 

“You're just gonna eat me like this?” You flirt. He snickers, grinning as he works to declothe his shirt. 

“So fuckin’ sweet.” He concluded, pinning you into the wall. You moaned under him as he nibbled and suckled at your precious neck. 

“To fucking good sweetheart.” He says, breathing you in. You find your hands traveling through his hair as he fights with your bra, watching your breast pool out, your nipples growing stiff and pointed as the air nipped at them. 

He wasted no time in latching his hungry mouth to one of your nipples, sucking and licking at them with hope that maybe you’d draw milk. 

You felt your lower half getting wetter at the constant attention this man was giving to your body. You felt how he hit every nerve on your chest, leaving his mark wherever he felt. 

You grinded into him, hoping the cause of friction would give Simon the memo. 

“Si…I want you. I want it so fucking bad.” You moan out. He stops to stare at your face, begging with neediness. 

“My fuckin’ baby want me that bad?” Ghost teases as he unbuckles his strap, letting his pants drop to the floor, freeing his oversized cock. 

You squirm to get out of your pants. Your pretty painties soaked to the touch. 

“All for me baby?” He grunts as he jerks himself towards your hip. You flex into him, your pussy clenching around nothing as his hand travels between your folds. 

“S-Simon your such a tease.” You hiss. He laughs, tapping his middle finger on your sobbing clit. You flinch as he taps, jerking into his hand as he relishes in you. 

He pops his finger out of your panties, drawing his fingers in his mouth to taste you. You see his eyes flutter and feel his cock twitch at the taste of you. You don’t hesitate to push your panties to the floor with the rest of your clothes as he grunts.

“Fuck baby… I gotta put it in.” “Sure you can handle me?” 

You grind roughly into his cock as a reply, only answering with straggling mewls. 

“So fuckin’ needy..” he whispers, grabbing his fat cock and stroking it aside your pussy. He lifts you up against the wall as he props you above his cock. You already felt your mind slipping as he lowered you onto him, his tip barely inside of you making you want to cum. 

He thrust deep inside you, bottoming out as you both shouted. You slured his name, your mind only thinking about getting fucked. 

“Good girl..my good girl.” He says as he starts pounding you against his wall. The rough pattern of his thrusting making you cock drunk. 

“Fuck baby.. I can see your stomach bulging. You look so cute with my cock inside of you.” You whimper as he kisses you roughly and with passion. The taste of you stil, faintly on his tongue. 

You feel the coil in your stomach lurk even tighter as you feel yourself giving into pleasure. 

“G-gonna…g-gonna cum Si!” You practically scream out. 

Ghost fastens his pace as you feel him twitch. 

“M-me to baby.. fuck! Cum with me baby!” He screams as he pounds you harder. You grasp onto his back, leaving scratches along it. 

He gets to his final thrust and unloads inside of you. You feel yourself give in and squeeze tight around him, cumming. 

“I can feel it.” You breathe out, feeling up and down your stomach from how much he came inside you. 

You felt his cock soften inside of you as cum started to drip down his cock. 

He grabbed your limp body, taking you into the bedroom with him still inside of you. 

Ghost gently pulled out of you, unplugging the supply of cum that he’d filled you with. You winced at the empty feeling it gave you. 

“Don’t worry baby. There’ll be plenty more times when I can plug you full of my cock.” He teased, kissing your lips softly. You snicker as you get up to go to the bathroom to wash up. After a while you find Ghost in bed waiting patiently for you. You crawl into bed beside him as he flicks on the tv. 

He wraps his arm around your waist as he spoons you, gently sliding his cock inside you again. You slowly fall asleep watching tv, Ghost notices and kisses you gently on the head before turning off the tv and falling asleep next to you. 

A/N: Hey guys! I hope this one is WAY better than the last Ghost one :} Also credit to @Valbrainrot on TikTok for giving me the idea. This one shot is based off of their account.

[chiefdirector]

Just Forget the World | Tony Dinozzo | NCIS

No. 21: Blood loss

Despite what many may think, it wasn't always easy to separate your professional and personal lives. It was something Tony had always struggled with as he constantly brought up his sexual escapades, or sexapades as he had once referred to them as, or other like stories to lighten the tension in the office. Sometimes he wished he could be more like Gibbs, it was almost as if the older man had a switch in his brain for each of his lives; he could toggle it on and off in an instant.

If he had learnt to differentiate then maybe he wouldn't be in this position. He could've have a happy life, taken a desk job somewhere in the agency and retired happy. He wouldn't have fallen in love with his co-worker. Tony laughed at that thought, there was no way he wasn't going to fall in love with her.

From the moment he saw her sitting at her desk nervously flipping through some files; she only a probie agent, that much was clear, but nothing else about her was. Not for the life of him, could Tony Dinozzo figure this woman out, it was only through trial, tribulation, and constant questioning (pestering would have been a better word) did he begin to unravel the mystery of Agent (L/N).

Eventually, her guard did fall, and she found herself just in love with Tony as he did her. It was almost as if fate had aligned to bring them together, but if fate had come together to to that then fate had a sick and twisted sense of humour. Or maybe it wasn't fate's doing, maybe it was karma who took her from Tony.

The gunshot had rung out quickly, Tony almost didn't hear it among the harmony of church bells that celebrated their matrimony.on instinct he had caught her and lowered her onto the ground, one hand supporting her and the other pushing pressure onto the wound as it seeped red onto her once pristine gown.

"Hey, hey. I've got you. It's gonna be okay?" Tony felt the words tumble out of his mouth, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself alongside his bride. "You're not going anywhere. I'm right here."

"Tony," She said, voice cracking as she barely spoke above a whisper.

He shushed her, adjusting her so all of her body weight was against him. Still keeping pressure on the wound, he took his free hand to gently move her face to align their eyes.

"I've got you baby. Gibbs is going to figure this out but we need to focus on you. Someone will be here soon, and then they're going to patch you up. You see? Everything will be okay?"

The noise of their guests panicking had long since died down into silence, not that Tony had noticed in the first place. McGee had called an ambulance before herding any civilians back to the cars. Ziva and Gibbs had sprinted after the shooter. It was only the two of them left in the room as they waited for help to arrive.

"It'll just be us but you need to stay awake," he gently shook her as her eyes began to flutter, "I'm sure Vance will approve us some time away. We can go anywhere and just forget the world. But you need to stay awake for that, baby."

Tony shook her again, this time she seemed a bit more alert as she reached for the hand which he had pressed against his side.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out. If the room wasn't as silent as it was, Tony wasn't sure if he would have heard her confession or not.

"What for?" He could have laughed at that, and in any other situation he would have. "You have nothing to be sorry for?"

"You know... this."

Before he could muster up a response, McGee burst through the doors once again, paramedics close on his heels. Carefully, Tony shifted her into his arms so he could place her onto the gurney the medics had brought. They barely spoke a word as they rushed her out of the room and towards the ambulance.

Tony watched as she disappeared through the doors, stood in the same spot as he was when he had watched her walk towards him, the only difference now was his tux was forever stained in her blood.

Hours could have passed and he wouldn't have noticed, it was only as McGee spoke did he snap back to his reality. "She'll be okay, Tony.'

But for the first time in a long, long time was he unsure. The only thing he knew was that if he had kept his personal life to himself then the love of his life wouldn't be bleeding out; if he kept his personal life to himself, her tomorrow would be guaranteed and not just a 'maybe.'

Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist

@ailesswhumptober @callsign-ember @happygirl-0408

[a-single-slice-of-toast]

Thinking bout Doumeki Parker from Eizouken

They’re like the Ash Ketchum of sound, gotta capture literally every sound ever no matter what.

Where’s the arc where Doumeki starts an competitive shooting club at school as a front to record real gunshots and other gun related sounds and Asakusa, the supportive girlfriend that she is, acts as co-president and info dumps to the student council about firearms in order to make the club seem legitimate and get their club budget established

But then the school tells them that there is no way they are letting students buy guns with school money so the two try to set up a field trip to America but the school won’t let them because they have not proven that their club actually does anything so Doumeki learns about rifle shooting and has to establish a team and a tournament to further legitimize the new club

And all this is happening while the Eizouken are in the middle of some big anime project so Doumeki has to juggle both clubs and regular school and home life and dating Asakusa and the anime ends up being heavily based on sounds so Doumeki is integral to its creation and the whole arc ends up being about Doumeki and them as a character and Doumeki and Asakusa kiss or something at some point because Doumidori is great and more people should consider it.

So yeah.

Also shoutout to @weddelledseals who makes amazing Eizouken and Doumidori art and inspired me to maybe write stuff about them

[bullet-prooflove]

TheWall! Series Part Six: Happy - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging:  @crazy4chickennuggets  @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @fanfic-n-tabulous @dreamlandcreations @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @purrrrfect @adaydreamaway08 @stressed-chas @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @msjava1972 @thanossexual @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @justreblogginfics @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @irishavengersassemble

Companion Series to:

Complicated - Bishop already knows your secret.

The Wall - Bishop comes home to find you covered in blood.

TheWall!Series:

Part One: Poker Night - Bishop's poker night is interrupted by gunshots.

Part Two: Ambush - Bishop finds out why you were at The Wall that night.

Part Three: Risk - Your dedication to the cause may be the death of you.

Part Four: Lucky - Bishop realises how lucky he is.

Part Five: Nighttime Tea (feat Neron Vargas) - Bishop comes home to find you sleeping.

For the first time in his life Bishop is happy, he realises that when he burns the toast on the Tuesday morning before your first rehab appointment. He’s trying to poke the button on the fire alarm with a brush handle when he looks up and sees you standing there. You’re leaning in the doorway, your good arm resting against the wood. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxer shorts, an amused smile on your face.

It's the most adorable fucking thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m bad at this.” He says gesturing towards the toast and then to the alarm.

The truth is domesticity doesn’t come naturally to him. Before you, he had been a solitary creature, fending for himself. He barely spent any time in his apartment and when he did it was to fuck or sleep. He doesn’t know how to take care of someone else, how to be with someone but he’s trying. He’s trying because he loves you and he thinks maybe it’s time to take things a little further.  

“You burned a little toast.” You shrug stepping into the kitchen. “I do it all the time.”

“No, I mean…” He trails off trying to find the words as he sets the brush back down in its place before opening the window above the sink to vent the smell. “… at being domestic.”

“You’re saying that like you think it’s a problem.” You say, flicking on the kettle before removing two mugs from your cupboard.

“I just think if we’re living together…”

The words slip out before he can stop them. The thing is you haven’t actually put a label on what’s happening right now. Initially he was staying over to look after you whilst you were recovering from your gunshot wound and now two months down the line it’s transitioned into something else.

“Is that you think what we’re doing?” You ask him.

He pauses for a second because truthfully this is not a conversation he envisioned having today. If he’s honest after Antonia he had never considered the possibility of co-habiting with someone again and now being here with you, it’s all he can think about. He struggles with vulnerability; he always has but with you he knows he’s safe. You’ve proved that to him over and over again during your courtship. He owes it to you to be upfront with his feelings.

“Yea…” He says, tilting his head to look down at you. “Don’t you?”

Your palms come to rest on his chest, smoothing over the muscles through his t-shirt before your left arm starts to falter. You sigh and he understands the frustration that crosses your features, you forget about the weakness sometimes. It’s taken you a while to come to terms with your new reality. Stitches says the physio will help but right now you’re simply taking your recovery a step at a time. He takes your hand in his, pressing your palm to his heart. You smile at the action, and he thinks this thing the two of you have it’s damn near perfect.

“I know this was only ever meant to be temporary, but I like having you here Obispo.” You say softly. “I just didn’t want to put any pressure on you.”

He’s skittish, he knows it. His track record speaks for itself but when it comes to you, he’s all in. He wants nights curled up in your soft sheets, lips brushing over your skin as he loves you the way that you deserve. He wants evenings, cooking dinner in the kitchen with the radio on. He wants mornings like this, doing stupid shit in the kitchen while he’s barely half awake.

“No pressure.” He tells you leaning in close, his nose trailing over yours. “I want this with you. These past few months… I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am right now.”

“Yea.” You tell him as your lips brush over his. “Me either.”

Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Want more Bishop? Read his masterlist here!

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[springsheep]

War of Faith Notes Ep. 29 - 32

Ep 29 -> Wei Ruolai in the execution grounds.

Wei Ruolai: Are you targeting Mr. Shen again??

Lin Qiaosong: Why are you doing this? Wei Ruolai: Then at that time, why did you join the dare-to-die corps? Lin Qiaosong: To protect the country! Wei Ruolai: I'm the same!

Shen Tunan rushes to save Wei Ruolai.

There's gunshots (someone is saving WRL?).

Shen Tunan: Congyun, drive forward! Wei Ruolai is in danger!! Huang Congyun: No sir, only your safety matters to me!

Shen Tunan jumps out of the car to save Ruolai, HCY follows.

Shen Tunan (when he sees the dead bodies): Ruolai is not there...

Niu Chunmiao and Shen Jinzhen are the shooters, saving WRL.

Shen Tunan saw Jinzhen(?).

(So, Wei Ruolai has no idea that Shen Tunan begged Mr. Yu to save him and that Shen Tunan risked his life to go to the execution grounds to save him.... WRL thanks Shen Jinzhen and Niu Chunmiao for saving him and agrees to go to Jiangxi Soviet).

Shen Tunan did, indeed see Jinzhen and he knows for sure she's a communist. He looks so hurt that she lied to him QAQ. Jinzhen denies everything, of course.

Shen Tunan: Thank you for saving Wei Ruolai.

Shen Jinzhen arranges for WRL and Niu Chunmiao to evacuate, but they missed each other fuck.

Hongfang shop is exposed and Mr. Xu blows up the place...

Shen Tunan and Shen Jinzhen's confrontation. (these two actors are so good damn the emotions are supercharged).

Wei Ruolai is caught by the Axe Gang:

Mr. Qian: You're a communist. Wei Ruolai: Well, technically, not yet. (he's such an innocent cutie pie i can't--) Mr. Qian: But in the future? Wei Ruolai: Uhh maybe uhh

Wei Ruolai and Niu Chunmiao are helped by the axe gang to leave.

Shen Tunan drives Shen Jinzhen (to run away?)

Ep 30 -> Shen Tunan drops of Shen Jinzhen in a gas station (lin qiaosong and his men are watching from the bushes).

Shen Tunan and Shen Jinzhen say their goodbyes.

Wei Ruolai's bus pass by and through the window Ruolai can see Shen Tunan and Shen Jinzhen hugging. AND GUESS WHAT Wei Ruolai's reaction is: Shen Xiansheng?!

His eyes are always automatically find his Xiansheng ah... tsk tsk

Shen Tunan leaves, and Lin Qiaosong and co attacke Shen Jinzhen. Shootout.

Wei Ruolai realizes there are people going to attack Shen Jinzhen and gets off the bus.

Shen Tunan hears gunshots and returns to save his sister (he's so cool damn it), he crashes the car into the gas station (the car explodes).

Shen Jinzhen is crying for her brother, Wei Ruolai and Niu Chunmiao have to drag her away. Shen Tunan is okay(?) I hope please please

Shen Jinzhen and Wei RUolai are crying (they're afraid Shen Tunan is dead).

Wei Ruolai: Xiansheng is a noble person, the heavens will protect him. Shen Jinzhen: I hope so.

Shen Jinzhen is crying because her brother was trying to protect her.

Poor Huang Congyun (I forgot this bro existed lol). He's worried and he's the one who tells Cishu that Shen Tunan is in the hospital, and that Shen Jinzhen and Wei RUolai are communists.

Shen Tunan is in the emergency room.

Aww Huang Congyun this precious boi is cryingggg (ignore the fact that hcy can be a jerk to wrl sometimes--)

ALSO, i'm seriously kinda shipping Su Cishu with Shen Jinzhen. I feel like her relationship with Shen Tunan is more... platonic?

Like, when she found out Shen Tunan was in the hospital, Su Cishu kept asking, what about Shen Jinzhen? Shen Jinzhen ne?? Shen Jinzhen?? Like, instead of asking about her husband (she is worried about him, ofc ) she's asking about Jinzhen...

Shen Tunan is in the hospital, his chances of waking up are slim.

Lin Qiaosong (to STN): I thought you were the smartest person I knew... I thought you were the most loyal to the Kuomintang... But turns out your sis is a Communist and you didn't notice? Are you stupid or blind? Wenbiao: Stupid and blind. Lin Qiaosong: ...

WRL, SJZ, and NCM travel together to Jiangxi Soviet.

Shen Tunan finally wakes up, chats with Su Cishu.

Shen Tunan: That's why I have to work harder for the country. Su Cishu: Mr. Song make you step down from you position... He also published your obituary...

Shen Tunan is angry and his head hurts. He goes home (from the hospital) and reunites with his daughter.

Huang Congyun and Chief Deng visit Shen Tunan.

WRL and co arrive in Jiangxi (they got caught but after verifying their identities they are welcomed there).

Niu Chunmiao's guy that she likes is dead, she's sad.

P.S. The ending song has changed.

Ep. 31 -> Wei Ruolai and co are in Jiangxi, Wei Ruolai returns to his dad.

Wei Ruolai works as a small accountant in his village (not working for the Red Army's bank, no)

Wei Ruolai has flashbacks of his time with Shen Tunan (his brain is making tiktok edits of his beloved Xiansheng).

Life in Jiangxi: WRL is an accountant and teaches a girl (fang ling) to count; Shen Jinzhen works in the military (shooting guns etc); Niu Chunmiao's dad teaches her self defense(?).

Fang Ling died. WRL reflects on stuff and has a stronger resolve to join the Communists.

WRL joins the Red Army bank.

WRL: Someone... made me write a report (on your bank) once.

So... previously Shen Tunan wrote an essay on the encirclement of communists. The chairman read it, approves, and wants to send Shen Tunan to Jiangxi (to intercept the ore transfer or something). Actually Shen Tunan promised his wife he will stop doing politics and their family can move to England, but now...

Chairman: I'm helping Shen Tunan meet his darling sooner ah

Su Cishu is (obviously) angry because Shen Tunan is leaving.

Shen Tunan: In this life I'm destined to offer my life to the nation. Su Cishu: But you are my nation!

The song is different again?

Ep 32 -> Shen Tunan in the ferry spots his wife and daughter.

Su Cishu: You've pledged your life to the country. I've pledged my life to you. (seriously thats so romantic).

Su Cishu: Home is where you are.

Wei Ruolai gets the newspaper with Shen Tunan's obituary and shows it to Shen Jinzhen, the two of them cry and have flashbacks of Shen Tunan.

Shen Tunan and his family and Huang Congyun are in Jiangxi, Lin Qiaosong also goes there. Shen Tunan changes his name to Tu Nanshen.

Shen Tunan starts implementing stricter rules to catch communists and fight them through the economic field.

Shen Tunan: working hard to make counterfeit money and make the Soviet Bank lose credibility Wei Ruolai: Working hard to restore credibility and save the bank.

You know, every time I think this show can't get any gayer (and i think fuck this will be boring becuz they'll just talk about money and war and stuff i don't understand) a new gay line (Shenlai) pops out and I'm struck by how fucking gay and fucking sweet Shenlai is. It just hits me out of the blue.

Wei Ruolai tells Shen Jinzhen about the fake notes and he tells her this is an economic war, must be the Kuomintang who did it. AND THEN HE SAYS:

Wei Ruolai: If only Xiansheng was here. Shen Jinzhen: If he were here, you might have a headache. Wei Ruolai: I'd rather have him here and be troubled by him instead.

I'D RATHER HAVE HIM HERE AND BE TROUBLED BY HIM INSTEAD.

Okay Wei Ruolai, we all know you love him. Damn.

[whumpslist]

A bunch of answers 5 and recap

Hi everyone,

With the summer season and the ending of many series, I’m finally catching up with old whumps’ lists, in particular:

* As already stated here, I’ve completed the final seasons of The Flash, Titans and Endeavor and updated the whumps lists; I’ve completed Carnival Row as well and it’s online;

* the lists from current, but not broadcasted at moment, series are all updated; The Blacklist’s tenth and final season is airing and updated to the last episode as well;

* I have to update the second season of Tale of the Nine-Tailed which is currently being aired under the name “1938″ as a prequel and I will binge watch it once fully broadcasted;

* I have done a whumpslist for the first season of Will Trent and the books by Karin Slaughter the TV show is based on, I'm still undecided whether to publish it or wait to complete them all. What would you prefer?;

* I’ve recently posted some new K-lists: Insider, Doctor Lawyer and updated Taxi Driver with the second season; I’ve also (FINALLY) completed the list for The K2, it will be posted in a couple of days; viceversa, it’s already online the whumpslist of Citadel but I really didn’t liked the show itself, many things were off...

As my plans for future binge watching and whumps’ lists:

* Tom Clancy's Jack Ryan new season will be released soon as the third season of The Witcher (I promise I have started to watch the second season of it and updating the list) which will be the last one I will do if it is true that Henry Cavill will no longer wear the clothes of Geralt of Rivia;

* I have The Musketeers list to complete (only a bunch of episodes left to review), and two seasons and half of The Last Ship;

* i have selected many K-dramas I want to watch this summer, I don’t know if any of them are worth of a whumpslist but I certainly hope so!

You can find all the lists and the links into the Whumpslist’s links Sheet here. Plus, I've made another sheet to include all my gifs, short clips and audios posted as Tumblr allows only a certain amount to links into a single post.

-- . .- -. .-- .... .. .-.. .

Meanwhile I’ve received many messages, I’ll gather the answers here.

Not sure if you've done this show yet, but, Queen of the South, it's on Netflix, has some great whump for character James Valdez 👌

Hi Anon, yes, I’ve seen some gifsets here and there but I’m not sure I would like the series itself. Still evaluating it.

Do you have a whumplist for Covert Affairs? Especially Auggie!

Maybe, @sharimae, but surely not in the foreseeable future, as I’ve already watched it back in the days.

Has the whump community gotten a hold of Lockwood and Co yet? if not y’all need to run to netflix rn!!!Anthony Lockwood is the PERFECT whumpee, but plenty goes around! not to mention there’s found family, hurt/comfort, angst, self sacrifice, tragic backstories, reckless boy with no self care, torture, electrocution, sword fights, ghosts can and will kill you (or put you into a coma), girl who can save the world and the boy who would die for her, gunshot wound, collapsing and needing to be supported, unconsciousness, powers are a burden… i could go on honestly

He’s cute, indeed, I’ll consider it.

brothers whump

Sorry, @s610ela, care to elaborate??

Hi!! I was wondering if you have any plan to continue the list for Jack Ryan? Thank you!

Hi there! As said above, I will certainly continue the list for this show.

Your Remington Steele gifs of 4x01 are an actual gift to the tiny Remington Steele fandom! Where did you get the episodes to use?! (If you don’t mind me asking lol)

Ah, my little me was SO in love with Remington Steele and enjoyed the sporadic whumps everytime they popped up! I made the gifs a while ago, I’m sorry I don’t remember where I retrieved the episode to do the gifset.

That’s all, folks!

[theboysbevibin]

Who the fuck decided to make another pinned?

Hey hey, we are The Boys. A bunch of jackasses navigating bills and a 9-5. Sometimes we post about it. Not much else to say. Main account is @signofthestriking.

We are not an endogenic system. If anything about our spirituality or our refusal to call ourselves traumagenic are too "endo" for you, you can suck my dick and maybe balls too. -Rat

Anything syscourse-related will be tagged with #ratman rants and #syscourse if you need to block them. Hopefully that won't be common.

Under the cut: Rent lowering gunshots, role call, label collection, and a userbox collection.

x

Rent lowering gunshots:

The two headmates with "quoted" names are using aliases. We will not be revealing their in-system names on this blog for cultural reasons

Trauma itself is NOT a piece of diagnostic criteria for DID (as per the DSM-V TR). The research surrounding DID and related dissociative disorders highlights an association with trauma, NOT a requirement. We simply do not know enough about these disorders to be claiming that trauma is the only possible origin. "You need trauma to be a system" is harmful misinformation that encourages the harassment and fakeclaiming of people with severely stigmatized mental disorders. If that's your only way of criticizing endogenic systems, you're not qualified to criticize them.

The concept of "non traumagenic plurality" is not new. "Endogenic" might be a relatively new word for it, but the concept itself is not. If rationalizing yourself as "multiple people in one body" is what makes sense to you, fine. If it's disrupting your daily life, though, it's time to either seek help or step away.

Criticizing the online system community, including the online endogenic community, is not exclusionist. This online community (like many others) can unfortunately damage a lot of young, developing minds with the state it's in right now. That's not wholly the fault of anti-endos or pro-endos.

"It's open practice" does not give you the right to use a bastardized word from Tibetan Buddhism to describe your headmates. Unless you're an experienced Tibetan Buddhist, stay away from terms like "tulpa" or "tulku". There are several other terms that are free for you to use.

Role call!

Jack Nox (Just Dance fableing, host), #rose of eternyx Saffron (DBZ AU fableing, host) #bitten hands "Snow" (DBZ AU fableing, host) #dutiful servant

Rat (co-host, facet, protector/persecutor) #eyes abounding Adrien (co-host, facet, factive) #friends forever

"Pink" (post-fictive, facet) Ash (post-fictive, facet, protector) Aspen (post-fictive, facet) Vinny (post-fictive, trauma holder, facet) Hera (post-fictive, protector, facet) Lilith (post-fictive, archivist and scribe, facet) #a scribe's thoughts Marcy (post-fictive, facet) Rose (post-fictive, facet, little) Fae (post-fictive, facet) Rev (post-fictive of Raditz, facet) Olera (post-fictive, stress holder, facet) Blue (post-fictive, facet)

Vegeta (DBZ soulbond) #royalty renounced Trunks Briefs (DBZ soulbond) #lilac and steel Son Gohan (DBZ AU soulbond) #spearhead Son Goku (DBZ soulbond) #hey! it's me Bulma Briefs (DBZ soulbond) #research log Tien Shinhan (DBZ soulbond) Piccolo (DBZ soulbond) Chi-Chi (DBZ soulbond) Krillin (DBZ soulbond) Yamcha (DBZ soulbond)

Terezi Pyrope (Homestuck soulbond) #tastes like cherries Gamzee Makara (Homestuck soulbond) #miracles all around Vriska Serket (Homestuck soulbond) #8 of dice Karkat Vantas (Homestuck soulbond) #righteous rage Nepeta Leijon (Homestuck soulbond) #teeth and claws Equius Zahakk (Homestuck soulbond) #blue blooded steed Dave Strider (Homestuck soulbond) #turning tables Eridan Ampora (Homestuck soulbond) #sharpshooter of the seas Kanaya Maryam (Homestuck soulbond) #not your darling Rose Lalonde (Homestuck soulbond) #notes from the grimoire Sollux Captor (Homestuck soulbond) #twin thoughts Aradia Megido (Homestuck soulbond)

Label collection

Mixed origins

Adaptive

Dreamway

Seelegenic/metagenic

Median

Chimera/hybrid

Soulbond

Fableing

x /

[e1igius]

[ calming ] sender tries to calm down receiver

there is always something wrong. the world for some reason , seemed to want to revolve around anger. the anger , resonated in veins , in souls , in the essence of mankind. it was exhausting , a never ending source of chaos and travesty. and yet here he was , standing still. hoping and praying at eventually the anger would be enough to make him want to continue down the path he had chosen. because something seemed to be wrong with him. and as hard as the texan tried , he had not been able to make himself enjoy his work for the past year or so. no , he had become rather quiet. only operating when it was required of him to maintain his current lifestyle which currently consisted of attending the gym , making food , watering the plants in his house , and sleep. little to no interaction with anyone that he had once considered a friend , as if he were trying to run away from the rage that had once consumed him.

he blames nothing for the change of course , not the whirlwind situationship with a firey red head , not the on again off again nonsense he'd engaged in with a federal agent , not the strained friendships he'd formed with people who knew nothing of his work but should have with how intimately they had known him. no the single point of failure in his revenge plan had been one person and one person alone , the same person who when they'd found themselves six feet under had absolutely destroyed huckleberry's entire world view and cause him to rebuild himself in their image. he missed ramirez. a small letter from a still-grieving mother had managed to reach him and after having spent a few weeks back with the immigrant ranchers , had set his entire reality on pause.

still , as much distance as he'd tried to create. sometimes there was still anger left in the relationships he had tried to throw away. one of which , that he couldn't seem to escape was a pretty little red head who once every few months always seemed to manage to get him riled up and at her door. this time it had been a simple text , a single word once used for [ safety ] , though as he had found himself heading over to her apartment , shotgun in one hand , he wasn't sure if this time it was being used as a warning or for attention. not that it mattered. she called , he answered. that's how their relationship was always meant to work. it takes one hit to break through the shitty lock on her new york city apartment , as if every liberal city didn't know how to keep their own homes safe.

it takes two seconds , for the man who's talking to frankie to have a shotgun barrel in his mouth with huck's entire bodyweight pinning him onto the floor. the apartment door swung open , creaking at the force with which it had bounced off of it's hinges to allow the blonde to break in. months of anger built up into one moment , blue eyes glazed over with a need to satiate the thirst. as much as he likes to think that he is in fact not all that into revenge anymore. the reality of the matter is. it is all he knows. and maybe , he's just trying to find an excuse to use it , without blaming everything on a dead man anymore...

small arms wrap around his shoulders as he hears her voice vaguely tell him some sort of instruction regarding the situation that he's put them all in. as if she's trying to break through some sort of daze , instilled by the unpaused primal nature that was to become him. it takes a moment... and by that , he's unsure if it had been a few seconds , or a few minutes , or a few hours. he just knows that eventually , whatever it was that was keeping the man under hima live lost the battle. as the gunshot was fired through the stranger's skull. heavy panting comes as he excitement from the moment washes through words now audiable. fully understanding the woman behind him , who has not given up on getting him to give her his full attention.

blue eyes lose their hazy nature , coming into focus as the killers hand makes contact with soft skin. ❝ sorry darlin'... did i startle you ? ❞

[candlecoo]

OKAY SO TO EXPLAIN A FEW CANON DIVERGENCIES [ manga spoilers ] i apologize it's so long and i'm rambling -

kurogiri - instead of dying and being turned into kurogiri, sero had passed by the fight that was going on, and by recognizing a younger version of his teachers [ aizawa / hizashi ], took oboro's place by pushing him out of the way of the villain. present day, oboro is alive and enjoys a life with his two best friends, though is obsessed with finding sero / thanking him, as he was believed to have crushed by debris after what he told police but no body was recovered. sero is given a teleportation quirk similar to what oboro was given, and is technically the league's new 'kurogiri' [ even wears a suit similar to what he wears ]

shigaraki - after dusting his entire family, young tenko is roaming the streets and bumps into sero who was on a trip outside. sero takes pity on him, and reluctantly brings him to the hideout and is placed under the role of tenko's caretaker. having attached himself to the boy, all for one gave him the new name 'tenko sero', but there's the alternate 'tomura sero' as well.

dabi - toya todoroki is discovered by sero hanta on sekoto peak in the middle of a training session, and the ever growing mental instability is obvious to sero, who offers to let toya use his quirk on sero to compensate for enji not training him. these secret meetings cause toya to grow closer to sero, and toya begins to see sero in a glorious light, obsessed with the idea of someone so unbothered by his quirk and eager to use it in a way that was both healthy but productive, and wishes his father were like that. on the day of shoto’s birth, toya is noticeably more angry and upset that day, so much so that he breaks down crying to sero after a particularly strong fire that took him a while to heal from. not allowing this to continue any longer, sero offers toya to come and live with him, which toya hesitates and runs away. sero doesn’t show up at sekoto peak for years after, and toya is upset by the abandonment, regretting not answering the question. however, at the age of thirteen where he arrives at sekoto and begins burning himself up, he remembers things taught to him by sero and begins trying and succeeding in quelling his flames, which awards him claps by sero, who had never abandoned the area and always popped up every so often to check up on him. breaking down crying once more, in pain from the burns he did end up getting, toya agrees to live with sero, and they disappear as the area begins burning. nothing is left of toya, and he is believed to have disappeared, or died. not wanting to be attached to his family, his father, any longer, he begs for sero’s last name, and is granted it by all for one. todoroki toya is dead, and sero toya is born.

himiko - this detail is still in progress, but i imagine that after the whole fiasco with her crush in middle school and her disappearance, she corners sero in an alleyway and starts draining him of his blood. a detail i was thinking of is that sero's blood is ,, not the best ?? like if it comes out his body it's toxic to drink and is somehow explosive ? but anyways, somehow, after ingesting his blood and beginning to fall ill, she falls unconscious and is taken by sero to the lair to be treated. fascinated by sero, and also the prospect of a new home where she won't be judged and is more or less welcome [ dabi and shigaraki aren't the welcoming bunch but they deal with it for sero - ], she invites herself to stay in the lair, and takes on sero's last name and labelling him as a sort of brotherly figure.

i was thinking that maybe sero had met midoriya / bakugo in their younger years during the opening scene of the anime, when they were in the park. but instead, i'm thinking they officially meet during an alternate usj arc, where towards the end of the battle, sero sacrifices himself [ to a few gunshot wounds ] to get tenko + co. out of there and is taken into custody by police, and is offered a place in ua's general department.

some other details i came up with were ;

whenever sero healed, he gained a noticable scar on his body, and he wears stuff [ long sleeves, long pants, turtlenecks ] that covers the entirety of him because he's self-conscious of the multitude of scars that built up over the years [ and also thinks people might stare and be disgusted ].

because of the timeleap, sero is legally a john-doe as there is nothing in police records that mentions someone by his name, no blood work, no family, nothing. his actual family is out there, and he would be genetically related to them, but they would only have their other children and not him [ my headcanon is that he has a mom, dad, and triplet younger siblings - 2 girls and a boy named sho ].

almost everyone knows him as sero, as he felt, after a while, his first name didn't matter, but eventually he tells someone it during a emotional moment. [ " ... hanta . sero hanta . that's my actual name. why i never said anything ? ahaha, ... well, after a while my first name didn't seem anything important. "]

he's older than literally everybody except all for one by a few thousand years [ not sure how old all for one is but imagine that plus 25, since that's around the age he died in the original timeline ]

for a while in the timeline he forgot why he was even thrust back in time, but it was the meeting with oboro that made him remember his purpose.

sero technically has three quirks ; his original tape quirk, teleportation, and regeneration / immortality. the last one doesn't count, and sero doesn't know what or who gave it to him. [ the reason for this was that i imagine the bnha god ! au version of himself heard his prayer and granted it, and that maybe the god versions of themselves oversaw the world - it's a weird au ]

i haven't figured a concrete reason on how he meets the canon cast / how he ends up in ua. it's either the alternate usj arc that i mentioned, or he was sent to participate in ua's entrance exam and become a part of ua to keep an eye on aoyama to make sure he didn't do anything stupid / get caught [ cause of the whole traitor thing ] .

sero will only die once the villains are defeated, he'll most likely live until his twenties like last time and die officially, but y'know - it'll be hard for him to defeat people he's grown to love and care about.

this is so long it's embarrassing, why can't i be anonymous :,). it's an au i really like and wanted to share, if i had drawing abilities i'd draw this out and send it to you.

[rey-jake-therapist]

My first Sherlock x OC fanfic excerpt

A couple of weeks ago, after I watched the four seasons of Sherlock for the second time, I said I wanted to write a Sherlock x OC fic. I wanted it to be set post The Final Problem, but I also wanted to explore Sherlock's backstory in my fic. I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea, that I had enough projects, yada yada... But you know how it is.

I started writing chapter 1 and I want to share a bit of it, because... honestly I don't know why. Anyway, first draft, unedited, you've been warned:

London, 221B Baker Street, 2017, six months after Sherringford.

Bang!

Martha Hudson had just put a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits on her table when the loud noise of a gunshot came from the flat above hers. Mrs Hudson welcomed the sound with a grunt and shouted as loudly as she could,

“Sherlock! Leave my damn wall alone!!”

John Watson scoffed; he and his daughter Rosie were briefly visiting his best friend Sherlock Holmes and his landlady, who used to be his as well from the time he was Sherlock’s flatmate, so they could see their goddaughter. Busy working and being a single dad, he hadn’t seen his friends once in weeks. Sherlock had assured his friend that he didn’t want him to stray from his parental obligations and that he would be fine staying on his own, but Sherlock had such a gift for lying and hiding his true feelings that John couldn’t help but be worried. 

“He hasn’t started using again, has he?” John asked. In his arms, Rosie wailed as if she shared her father’s concern for his best friend. 

“Oh, I don’t think so! But with Sherlock, dear, you never know,” Mrs Hudson replied with a plaintive voice. She then asked John to take Rosie in her arms for a hug.

“Does he eat, at least? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary? Does he seem generally happy, or, you know… Agitated?” John insisted softly. 

“What ‘ordinary’ are you talking about? There’s never an ordinary day with Sherlock, you of all people should know that! If you’re worried about him, why don’t you move back here with little Rosie? You obviously still love him dearly and I’m sure having you both close would cheer him up!” Mrs Hudson suggested, with a tone of voice that suggested she still hadn’t accepted the fact that John and Sherlock were never lovers to begin with. 

“Mrs Hudson,” John started as calmly as he could, “I love Sherlock a lot, that much is true; he’s my best friend. But I think you will admit that the proximity of a man who shoots in his wall when he's bored, and chases murderers who sometimes try to kill him in retaliation isn’t the best I can provide to my daughter. Not to mention that there are only two rooms in this apartment, where would Rosie sleep?” 

“Well, I agree that it would probably not be a healthy environment for a little girl… But maybe her presence would force Sherlock to calm down, you know? He’s so good with her already. As for the room, she could take yours, surely?”

“Oh yes, sure,” John was now trying to tone down his impatience as he asked snarkily, “and that would leave me with Sherlock's bedroom as the only option, I guess?”

“Well, remember you said that, not me. I was going to  suggest you replace the couch with a convertible, but you do you!” Mrs Hudson teased him. 

Rosie giggled, mostly amused by Mrs Hudson’s laughing face. John, however, just groaned in response and took Rosie off his friend’s arms, muttering that he wanted to see Sherlock now. 

John found his friend slumped on his armchair, the gun he had just used to shoot the wall still in his hand. As Sherlock didn’t seem to notice his and Rosie’s presences, John cleared his throat and knocked on the door, unwilling to disturb Sherlock's train of thoughts by making a too noisy entrance; when Sherlock was wandering through his mind palace, he hated being interrupted. 

But Sherlock immediately turned his gaze on them and seemed as surprised as he was delighted.

“John! Already back?” Sherlock greeted his former flatmate with a confused tone that seemed genuine. “You seemed so determined to get back to a normal and boring life. I thought I wouldn't get to see you for two weeks, at least…” 

John scoffed, his eyebrows arching. “We haven't been in touch for three weeks! Almost four actually,  Sherlock,” he responded, before adding, tongue in cheek, “oh, the nice feeling of knowing you have been missed… Could you please put the gun down? I’m not very comfortable letting Rosie wander around this apartment with you holding a gun.” 

Sherlock looked at his weapon as if he saw it for the first time, and did as John asked. “Three weeks? Where did all this time go? And more importantly: what did I do?” Sherlock wondered out loud, clearly perplexed. Suddenly, his attention drifted on Rosie, who was exploring the apartment as if she had never seen it before. “Hey, Watson! Come here and give a hug to Uncle Sherlock!” He called on the baby, who walked as fast as her little legs allowed her towards Sherlock, who grabbed her and took a silly voice to make her laugh. John smiled watching them, amused by his daughter’s delighted giggles. Sherlock wasn’t always the best company, but he had always been good with children. 

“You tell me! What have you been up to? Did you get any… Interesting case?”

Sherlock scoffed. “The closest thing I had to a good case was an old lady who was certain that her puddle had been abducted by aliens during the night. Or maybe you’d call the case of a missing teenager ‘interesting’? Surely you would. I found her two hours later, cozied up with the boyfriends no one knew she had. I’m bored, John, so bored I swear the only reason why I haven’t touched the stuff in my room is the promise I made to Molly.” He showed his arm adorned with three nicotine patches. “No drugs, no cigarettes… If boredom was mortal, this apartment would be my tomb,” he continued, looking grim.

“A promise to Molly is a very good reason, though!” John approved, instantly relieved to know Sherlock had stayed clean. “I’m a tiny bit jealous I must say, in five years you never made the effort to make such a promise to me, but oh well. The most important thing is that you don’t do any drugs.”

“I had no choice. Molly threatened to forbid me access to the morgue. Can you believe it?! She said I would never be allowed take anything to my apartment if she caught me using it again. Ever.”

John gave a long low whistle of admiration. “It’s brilliant!” He declared, before letting out a short chuckle as Sherlock glared at him. 

“It’s blackmail!” Sherlock whined, before adding, “but yes, I can concede it was pretty smart of her.”

“You know, you can also just admit her opinion means a great deal to you. You appreciate Molly, and you don’t want to disappoint her again. You could just say that,” John teased his friend. “You could also say the same about me, for that matter,” he thought.

“I have no problem admitting that,” Sherlock grumbled. “Molly almost unscrewed my head from my body the last time she was upset at me; of course I wouldn’t risk it happening again.”

John laughed in disbelief. It was true that Molly had slapped Sherlock hard during the Magnussen case, but he knew he had himself done much worse when he had violently taken his frustration on him and accused him of killing his wife. Yet Sherlock and him had carefully avoided the subject; there was only one time when John had properly apologized to Sherlock, before announcing that he was seeing a therapist again to help him with anger management as well as other things… Like the fact that he needed help to cope with the fact that he had almost died drowning in a well because of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes’ crazy sister Eurus, who also happened to be the woman he had emotionally cheated his wife on with. As Sherlock had admitted between clenched teeth that it was probably a good idea, John had attempted to convert his friend to therapy as well. Sherlock hadn’t outright rejected the idea that what Eurus had put him through hadn’t left him unscathed, but he claimed he was ‘mostly fine’ and would easily move on as long as he could keep working. 

Sherlock, who had let Rosie go after she had expressed with agitated moves that she wanted to be put down, let out a deep sigh of exasperation. “Do I have to murder someone myself to stop being bored?” He groaned; his eyes staring at the ceiling, he wasn't asking John. “Sally Donovan could at last tell you, ‘told you…”

[go0m13]

This is an Empires Ace Attorney AU ask

Could we have a lil summary of some of the cases??? For brainrot?

OOH SURE!! GRINS I'm less into empires but i still really enjoy the AU ehehe gonna put this under a read more because I'm gonna summarize a good amount of stuff

Case 1 - The Sunken Turnabout This is Jimmy's first case! The defendant is his sister Lizzie, (their designs and plot is more based on their season 1 selves and some season 1 exclusive characters also appear... also i never finished season 2) and Jimmy's co counsel is his mentor, Pixl Riffs. Pix is a fairly famous lawyer, but there are a lot of rumors surrounding him and his methods so some people are hesitant to trust him. This one is the one most based in season 2, as the victim is False Symmetry! She hit her head on the bottom of Lizzie's swim team's training pool and drowned, and it is believed that Lizzie had pushed her in during an argument about False falling behind in their practices. Also, Jimmy gets some suitably dark and spooky flashbacks because ✨ courtroom related traumaaaa ✨ it's eventually proven that the victim was not False but her twin sister! They were both swimmers, who competed for a spot on the olympic team. While False got on the team, her sister grew resentful of this and made her move when her sister broke her leg, cutting off her communication with the team and bribing her doctors to be able to replace her. After her leg healed, False confronted her sister about this and ended up pushing her into the pool where she became concussed and drowned. (I don't know their lore completely but I thought this would be fun ehehehe) Despite being proven innocent, the swim team ends up dissolving and Lizzie calls Joel, who is away on a business trip, telling him that she just lost her job. He decides to come home for emotional support and books a flight in a few days. Case 2 - Turnabout Beacon This is the "main case" I have the least thought out, so sorry about that! If anyone has any ideas I'd love to hear em. Pix goes to pick Joel up at the airport and brings him to their apartment, calling Jimmy and Lizzie so they could meet them there. When they arrive, they find that Pix has been killed and Joel is laying unconscious next to him. As Pix was killed by multiple gunshots, a neighbor overheard and called the police, accusing Joel of committing the crime as he was the only other person in the apartment at the time. This case is also the introduction to Scott and Shrub, two main characters! I feel like it'd be fairly similar to turnabout sisters, but I got no idea who the killer would be. Maybe one of the hermits? The downside of empires here is that the cast is small enough that a lot of characters end up not being from the series itself.

Case 3 - A Certified Turnabout

After getting to know Shrub better through the previous case, they decide to help Jimmy cheer up by introducing him to their friends and having everyone go out for lunch together. Because these characters can't have nice things, this obviously goes wrong. When going to pick up Katherine at her workplace, a flower shop, one of Katherine's coworkers is stabbed in the neck with Katherine's flower cutters and Katherine is accused of the crime. In the storage room for the shop, the true killer hid out and attacked the victim when she entered. After stabbing her in the neck, she heard Oli gasp and grabbed the body, holding the scissors and her hand and chasing him away to make it look like she was going to attack him too. I have an idea on who I want them to be, but I'm not too familiar on either of their content as I want this case to be more based on Afterlife SMP which included a few ccs who I'm unfamiliar with, including both of them. This case also has a moment like in turnabout samurai where Scott gets to help take down the killer! In the end, Katherine is acquitted and all is well. Shrub is also officially on Jimmy's side from now on and tries to help him whenever they can!

Case 4 - Turnabout Twins

This case is where stuff gets real. fWhip is murdered in the middle of the night in a closed library and the only one inside when it opens is Scott who is immediately arrested. Jimmy offers to defend him and initially is declined, but soon Scott decides to accept his offer as there's pretty much no one else that will help him. Lizzie and Joel both act as assistants here, same as in the last case. Lizzie is co counsel during the trial and I want Joel to be able to help with investigations in some other way. There's a lot more to the case and it gets into people's backstories a lot more from here on in!

While I'm not gonna divulge everything from here on out, I like to be vague ehehehe and I don't want this post to get too long, I will say I plan on 2 more cases and then the big finale one that delves deep into the backstories of Jimmy, Lizzie, Pix, Pearl, and characters introduced in that case (a lot of them are from the life series). The last 3 cases will also have a different prosecutor and Gem will get to help out as a sort of assistant for them as well! If you have any more questions I'd be happy to answer! :DD

[silvershewolf247]

The Game

The stag was beautiful. Glen had never gotten so close to one before. They only wondered why he wasn’t running off for a minute, before smelling copper. The poor thing had gotten caught in a bear trap. Glen pet the terrified animal, trying to soothe him. He leaned into their touch, seeming to be comforted by it. Glen tried to pry the cursed thing open, and cut open their hands. Glen felt sick to their stomach. They always hated the sight of blood. 

“Need some help there, Champ?” It was their father. Of course. They had been trying to get away from him and enjoy some of their time outside. Glen sighed, 

“Yes, someone left a trap here and this deer got stuck,” Glen said, straining as they tried to pry open the trap again.

“That is the intention of traps,” he said with a smirk. 

“This isn’t funny, he’s really hurt,” Glen responded. Their father leaned over, using his shotgun as support.

“Comedy comes from pain, at least, good comedy.” He punctuated his statement with a laugh. Glen cut their hands again. Dad got on his knees and held onto the springs of the trap. 

“Try it now,” he said. Glen did, and sure as shit, it opened. Glen pulled the deer's leg out of the trap and dad pulled his hands away quickly, as the trap snapped shut again. 

“Thanks,” Glen said with a small smile. Dad used the shotgun as support to pull himself back up. 

“Yeah, don’t thank me too much. Take a look at your little friend,” Dad said, using his shotgun to point at the deer. He limped for two steps before collapsing. His leg was bleeding more profusely now. 

“So, how are you going to put it out of its misery, ” their father asked. 

“What! No! I’m not doing that,” Glen said. 

“You’re just gonna let it suffer? Seems a bit cruel,” he said. 

“Maybe we can help him, wrap the leg up and feed him until he gets better,” Glen pleaded, “Please.” They grabbed their father’s free hand and wrapped it with their own. They looked up at him with desperate eyes. 

“Do you know what to feed a deer?” he asked. Glen let go of his hands. 

“Well, no, but….” Glen looked at the deer.

“Do you know how to stitch up a cut that hit the bone,”

“I don’t…” Glen looked at the ground.

“What about preventing infection, or do you just want it to suffer longer, so you can feel better?” Dad said, his mock concern quickly faded away and was replaced by a smug smile. He grabbed their chin and made them look him in the eyes.

“Either kill it, or leave it to suffer a slow death, there’s no third option here,” he finished releasing their chin. They both knew the answer before Glen could say a word. He put the gun in Glen’s hands, stood next to them, wrapped his arms around theirs and took aim. Glen tried to look away, but their father pulled their hair. 

“No champ, I want you to look at it,” he whispered in their ear. 

“I want you to see what every true hunter lives for. You saw it panic, and you saw it look in your eyes and beg for mercy. Now it knows there’s no escape. This is the end, and you have become a god to this animal. It’s giving its life to you. And all it asks for now, is to make it quick.”

Glen was quiet the entire walk home. Despite their father trying to talk to them. Whatever bullshit he was saying, Glen couldn’t hear it. The whole world was blank. The only thing they perceived was the path to the bathroom. Everything and one around them had disappeared. They could still hear the gunshots. They saw something different in the room as they walked into the bedroom, but didn’t process it. 

They spent a long time in the shower. Scrubbing themself raw and waiting for the world to come back to them. The water at their feet was a bright clear red. They stayed in there, until the water had gotten uncomfortably cold. Glen grabbed some bandages from the cabinet and wrapped their hands. They put on pajamas and brushed out their hair. Just wanting to lie down and disappear. 

They don’t know how long they were lying in their bed. The sun had set long ago. They were finally starting to come back to the world and the first thing they noticed was someone had taken down one of their paintings. Glen panicked and ran to their bag, digging through it desperately. Then what they were looking for appeared in front of them.

“Looking for something,” it was their father, dangling the amulet off his finger. Glen tried to grab it, but their father pulled it back into his hand quickly. 

“You went in my room. You went through my stuff. You promised you wouldn’t do that.” Glen said.

“And you promised you couldn’t find the amulet, yet her we are. Anyway, I didn’t go in your room,” he said.

“Then how did you find it?” Glen asked. 

“Why did you lie to me about having it?” he said.

“Because I didn’t want you to have it. It’s bad enough you and mom have taken Jennifer Tilly, Nica, and Andy’s lives. I’m not going to let you take anyone else’s,” Glen said. They tried to grab it again. Dad put it in his jacket pocket and used his free hand to grab Glen’s in a vice grip.

“I am your father. And you will treat me with respect and obedience. I have been nothing but respectful to you,” he said. His grip tightened and their hands started bleeding again.

“You locked me in the basement closet,” Glen said, trying to pull their hands away. 

“You locked yourself down there to avoid confrontation, you little coward,” he said. 

“Stop lying to me,” Glen said, and they kicked him in the shin. Their father only sighed in response.

“I haven’t lied to you once,” he lied. 

“You promised you wouldn’t go in my room,” Glen said. Their hands only bled more as they pulled away.

“I didn’t go into your room,” he said. 

“Then how did you find the amulet?” Glen asked.  

“I didn’t, Devon found it and gave it to me,” he said. He let go of Glen’s hands. Glen’s stomach dropped. The kid had been here. He had been here alone with dad. Glen had watched him like a hawk every second he was here to make sure their father didn’t hurt him. Not that they were sure what they would do if he tried to. They couldn’t even protect a deer from him. Tears pricked their eyes. 

“What did you do to him?” Glen asked, grabbing their father’s jacket, begging for mercy far too late. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked. 

“Don’t bullshit me, I know what you’re doing,” Glen said. As they pulled on his jacket, there hands left bloodstains on the coat.

“Do tell,” he implored. 

“You're getting close to him so you can kill him.” Glen said. Dad looked puzzled. 

“No, you’re way off, I don’t want Devon dead. If I did, I would have killed him by now. You think your weird staring at him was stopping me,” he said. He was wearing an amused smile. 

“By the way, you gotta stop doing that. You’re creeping the kid out, he thinks you're a killer, like your old man. As nice as that would be, aside from getting the amulet, it doesn’t help me much for him to distrust you,” he said. 

“Help you to do what?” Glen asked. They let go of his jacket. He straightened it out. 

“Keep him around,” he said. Glen gave them an inquisitive look. 

“As nice as it is to use Andy’s body, he won’t live forever. In twenty to forty years, I’ll need a new one. Devon reminds me a lot of him. So I keep Devon around. Keep fueling his hatred of me so he keeps hunting. Keep playing substitute dad for him so he trusts ‘Andy.’ Then when the time comes, he’ll come to me, one way or the other. Just like Andy,” he said. 

Glen looked horrified. 

“I won’t let that happen,” they said. Their father laughed and patted his pocket. He leaned closer to Glen.

“And how are you going to stop me?” With that, their father walked away, leaving Glen to sit in their horror. 

The two of them ate dinner separately that night. Glen avoided their father until he went to sleep. An hour after his door shut, Glen went up to it. They opened it and entered slowly and cautiously. Andy was sitting next to the bed. His arms resting on his knees.

“Hey kid,” he greeted Glen.  

“Andy…” Glen started. Andy put up his hand, signaling them to stop. 

“I already know,” he said. Glen walked next to them and fell to the floor next to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Glen said, before sobbing into his chest. 

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” he said, petting the back of their head in an attempt to soothe them.

The next morning, dad showed them his new wall decoration. A bleached deer skull.