#spooks’ ocs

[mythspooks]

The Six Weavers!

(Left to right) they are Reyna, Mikel, Will, Marrie, Saryu, and Arlan

Close-ups below

[anbaisai]

My friend (@/6o6o9o9 on Twitter) made me the incredible doodle below ⬇ after hearing about my disastrous pulls for Nightmare Suit Jamil, so I couldn't resist drawing my own version of it-

Unfortunately her punches are useless against this jerk smh, it barely hurts and he's just amused 💢 (also it is so unfair he looks so damn good in that fit the twst devs knew what they were doing)

[bloodycoffins]

[purple-raspberries]

Barnaby, we’ve talked about this.

Boundries.

Do not pick up people without asking. No, I don’t care how grabable their waist is!

[jackdaw-cod]

🔥 Crazy pressure n’that conference room, Harley. Y’alright?

(he jolted, whipping his gaze over to find garrison’s.)

jesus- yeah, i’m all good.

(he muttered, taking a slow drag from the cigarette held between his fingers. a cheaper brand - everything else was fucking expensive enough as is.)

yourself?

[avionvadion]

Eleanora and Skully's New Years outfits!

Skully started part-timing before January hit, I think, since he can't just rely on Eleanora's allowance from her new dads all the time. Trey is an occasional part-timer (because I really love his outfit here and he's one of my bois) so he gets dragged into the New Years fuss, especially since Skully does need help with certain things as he's still learning about modern day. There's a lot he doesn't know, but severely needs the money since his daddy, the Halloween King, is, uh... long-since dead.

Honestly probably where Eleanora gets all the money she needs to buy Fellow decent clothes in town (which is how El and Kalim end up getting abducted and meeting Zaahira, hehehehehe) since Sam brings her in to act as damage control so his intimidating lottery crew don't scare customers away. Gidel typically stays with Fellow in Ramshackle (since Fellow comes back at the start of January) but is so used to Skully and El being around that he ends up missing them and drags Fellow to the Mystery Shop to visit. Grim is at Heartslabyul so someone can keep an eye on him.

The hilarity of Malleus simultaneously being the reason Sam hired Eleanora but also being the reason that she has to greet customers from outside in the cold...

Sam, upon recruiting Eleanora: "Just smile and wave, and invite the customers in! Lure them into a false sense of security so the scary little imps inside can intimidate them into buying things."

El: "....Isn't that coercion?"

Sam: "I call it... good business!"

Malleus:

Sam: "Also you have to stay outside so a certain little imp doesn't get distracted."

Malleus, raising a brow, mildly offended:

El: "..."

Sam: "You get to sit in a chair? And I'll bring you hot cocoa every now and then. The fur shawl you have should help keep you warm, too. I'll even toss in an umbrella so the snow doesn't fall on you! Won't you help out your good ol' pal, Sam?"

El: "I'm getting paid for this, right?"

Sam: "Yup. Same as the Little Imps."

El: "...Okay, yeah. Sure! Sounds good."

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 4 (Part 2)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

Hopechase leaves on patrol by herself, not thinking properly and forgetting that the woods haven't been fed. She sees a Woodcrawler. And IT sees HER. Hopechase runs. Fast. DONT LEAVE ME

(Hopechase, warrior, female, 86 moons) (Woodcrawler, a mockery of life, ageless) (Rootgrove, ?????, Lightfoot, can you see me. i have become something else)

---

Hopechase couldn't breathe.

Her ears were ringing as blood coursed through her entire body.

She could see, but it was all a shaking blur. All she could sense was the familiar smell of ForestClan's camp, and the tall rock she had seen her leaders stand on. Birchstar. Lakestar. Redstar. Apprentices. New warriors. The focal point of their society.

Camp? Camp. Yes. She was in camp. Her senses started to return to her. The muffled voices of fear and concern around her faded into existence as everyone's pelts suddenly melded into shape.

"Hopechase? What's wrong?"

"Are you alright?"

"Dad - what's wrong with her?"

"Warblerkit, listen to whatever Windfur and Redstar tell you right now. OK?"

"Are you being followed?"

That last one was Windfur. She hated that question. Hated it, hated it. He always asked that. What she hated the most was that she didn't know. She didn't dare look back. The second the leaves in the bushes rustled, the world fell into all-engulfing silence. Long, spindling legs crawled into sight, like weavers threading the air - slowly, gently, with the precision of an owl's talons.

It had no eyes.

But it still saw her.

"Hopechase?"

Hopechase's hackles flattened as a clear, cutting voice pierced through the haze of her mind. Her eyes focused on a bright, white pelt that radiated through the green and brown forest.

"Hopechase, you're alright. You're in camp. You're with clanmates. You're safe."

Iciclepool. It was Iciclepool.

She was wearing a brave mask as she stepped closer towards Hopechase. Iciclepool couldn't hide her fear.

"Hopechase. What happened?"

The adrenaline in Hopechase's veins started to slow. For a brief moment, terror's claws released the molly's heart, and Hopechase seized that moment to fight back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She took in every scent of comfort and safety in that breath - her clanmates, the sap on the pine trees, the mud and stones, the small cooking fire, the water boiling in a clay pot. She flexed her claws. The grass uprooted itself beneath them. She was alive.

"Woodcrawler," she finally spoke. "I...saw a Woodcrawler. I ran."

Many voices chimed in at once, but Redstar's quickly boomed above the rest as she took her place beside Iciclepool. "Where, and did it follow you?"

"I didn't check," Hopechase said. Her body and voice found their footing as she remembered how to act in an emergency. "Close the gates, now."

"Is anyone out on patrol?" Redstar hissed.

"No. I didn't even know Hopechase was - "

People's voices started overlapping again as the blend of chaos began.

"I'm declaring a lockdown. Iciclepool, Talonpaw, Morningpaw - you three go help Windfur carry Olive to my den right now."

"Barleywave, get your tail up here and pull the other gate rope!" Cloudthunder hissed.

"Yeah yeah, keep your fur on, I'm - WARBLERKIT! What did Redstar just say about lockdown?!"

"Come on Warblerkit, we..."

"NO! Not fair! Dad comes too!"

Hopechase jumped up one of the tall pine trees that the clan's sliding gate was tied to, climbing past Barleywave and telling him curtly, "Go, attend to your kit. I'll do it."

Barleywave's tail flicked with annoyance before he crawled back down, and Cloudthunder looked at the dark grey molly with gratitude.

"Thanks, Hope," Cloudthunder uttered between her teeth as she pulled the bulrush rope off of its handle. Hopechase did the same, slowly bringing the gate of sturdy logs and long branches to a thud. Their camp entrance was now blocked, and their walls were securely surrounded by barricades pine logs, stone and sharpened sticks stolen by Twolegs in their greenleaf place. These walls are what allowed them to survive for countless seasons.

Everyone moved up into Redstar's den, retreating until their backs were as far back against the walls as they could. Iciclepool stood at the den's entrance, looking over the clearing, while Redstar alone stood on top of ForestClan's gate, her ears twitching and her eyes darting. No cat spoke a single word. Even Warblerkit sensed the gravity of the situation, and resigned to hiding under Barleywave's chest fur.

Time crawled as cats waited with held breaths and focused stares. Olive, the newest member of the Clan, glanced at them expectantly. The sheer air of fear prevented her from asking any questions, but they still sat on her tongue.

Hopechase watched Iciclepool wordlessly communicate with Redstar across the clearing as the two kept their vigil. A swaying of the tail every five minutes. A high-pitched chirrup every ten.

By the thirty minute mark, Redstar made a low-pitched, rumbling meow. ForestClan released a collective breath of relief. They were not safe yet. But it seemed the Woodcrawler did not follow Hopechase.

By the time the hour had passed, Redstar announced that the lockdown was over, and that cats could return to their regular duties - but to stay alert and to avoid the paths taken by Hopechase for the next quarter moon. Life breathed into camp once more. Olive finally asked her lingering questions, with a patient Cloudthunder answering her. Windfur received help to escort Olive back to the nursery, and Warblerkit and Shiverkit bombarded Barleywave and Iciclepool with questions, their furs still standing on end.

Hopechase, meanwhile, felt wrong.

She sat in the middle of camp, staring at the fresh kill pile. She ought to grab food and start cooking meals. She...she was supposed to be on kitchen duty with Morningpaw. She was supposed to show her how to remove pelts from their prey. She promised Barleywave she'd do it, because he playfully said he was always no good at it. She even laughed and agreed with him. But she couldn't bring her paws to just pick something from the pile.

She wasn't normally this shaken by Woodcrawler sightings. She was old. She'd seen worse. But she'd also had faith, her entire life, that the world had to be inherently good. Redstar gave her the honor title 'Hopechase' when Lakestar was finally dethroned. For her constant optimism, and faith in her Clan. Even when many cats left ForestClan when Lakestar finally died, even when despair was the only thing in sight, she believed that even in death, things would be okay.

So why now?

"Hopechase."

The dark grey molly turned her head and saw Iciclepool staring at her. The deputy tilted her head and gave her a look of gentle concern. She sat next to her, her fur brushing gently against hers. Iciclepool placed her tail on Hopechase's shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"Aw, are you worried about little old me?" Hopechase said with a forced purr. Clearly, Iciclepool saw through her on that one.

"Hopechase, it's okay if you're shaken."

"Shaken? No, silly. I'm going to teach Morningpaw how to skin pelts. I'm trying to pick out something," Hopechase insisted.

"Ah yes, because you take more than five minutes staring at the fresh-kill pile as a part of that process. Hope, come on, please be honest with me," Iciclepool meowed, her tail brushing against her clanmate's back gently.

Hopechase still kept a forced smile on her face. "Alright, alright. Maybe the adrenaline wasn't good on my bones. You're right that I'm tired - but I do have a promise to keep."

"Then let me take over."

"I thought you were going to spend time with Shiverkit tonight?"

"She can watch Morningpaw and I. She enjoys staring at cats when they do something new," Iciclepool said with a purr. "Those bright blue eyes of hers are always inquisitive. You should see the amount of questions Windfur is plagued with. The poor boy is inundated."

Hopechase felt her heart beat warmly as she spoke about her kit. Iciclepool was so much more like how she remembered her when they were younger - attentive and loving. Iciclepool remembered every little thing she liked about you, and always let others know. It was her greatest ambition in life to be a mother. If fates were different, maybe Iciclepool would've made a great queen and teacher. She knew Iciclepool always had eyes for Cliffstep alone, and she couldn't blame her - he was a thoughtful, empathetic tom, with similar ambitions to Iciclepool's. His death had destroyed her, and permanently changed her for moons. Hopechase was always worried that she'd never get to see her old self again - but she started to see cracks of it more recently, and her heart swelled every time she saw them. The more she thought about Iciclepool, the better she felt. But she knew the deputy wouldn't allow her to rest on that distraction.

"Hopechase, please. Let me take over the lesson today. I don't want to make it an order, but I will if you don't go to your nest," Iciclepool insisted. By the look in her eyes, Hopechase knew that she wasn't going to be swayed by anything else. The older molly sighed, and got to her feet.

"Alright, alright. I can't say no to our lovely deputy."

Iciclepool's whiskers twitched in amused affection. "Get some good rest."

As Hopechase padded away and slinked into the warriors' den, the light comfort that Iciclepool gave her faded. She felt the weight in her heart sink as the world around her loomed. As she curled up in her nest and stared at the wall, her thoughts swarmed like gnats.

Someone hadn't fed the woods in five moons.

The Clan knew that Redstar was trying. She kept leaving at night and returning in the morning. Her eyes were getting more and more sunken, and her fur was getting kinks. Her silence upon entering camp every morning spoke every word that was needed.

Hopechase buried her face in her bedding. Her lips curled and she suppressed the hiss in her throat.

Olive was pregnant. Everyone knew that now, and no one spoke their fears. The woods were not fair. They were opportunistic. If someone doesn’t sacrifice themselves, it’ll be Olive’s kits, or Warblerkit, or Shiverkit. It will take whichever clanmate is deemed the easiest to catch. It was always the greatest tragedy of ForestClan - that kits were extremely vulnerable to the woods. The only time kits were safe, is if the woods were fed recently.

She should’ve fed the woods.

She was the eldest cat in the clan. Every other cat in the clan was young and lively, with their entire futures ahead of them. And kits - it wasn't fair that so many of them didn't get the chance to truly live. She lived a good life, didn't she? Dying wasn't so bad, right? StarClan was waiting to save her soul. Her family was waiting for her. She could finally see her mother and father again. She could listen to her uncle Rootgrove's stories again, and her brother Icypaw - oh, Icypaw - she missed her littermate. She couldn't remember his face anymore. That hurt her.

She didn't...she didn't have any regrets, right? So why? Why did she just doom the children of her clan?

Hopechase quivered like a kit in leafbare, failing to suppress the sorrow in her chest. She buried her face in moss and pelts, and muzzled her wails, desperately pleading that no cat would walk in. They couldn't - they just couldn't see her like this. She was Hopechase now, and had been for months. Not Lightfoot. Hopechase. The pursuer of hope. She brought her clan hope.

Today, she just went out to bring them food. She brought them back suffering instead.

Why didn’t she just feed the woods?

---

< PREVIOUS | NEXT >

[smokbeast]

fang looks biteable (affectionately) but I feel like if I tried I would be murdered

he’s a sweetheart when he can be but it’s best not to bite him, but soma well make sure he’s sweet for others.

[spookebee]

🦇HUNGER FRENZY RAFFLE LETS GO🦇

*this is a vtm community event only!*

THE RAFFLE WILL END WHEN I REACH MY GOAL OF 300 FOLLOWERS !

. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ Rules✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

1. Must be following me at the time of raffle event

2. Fill out Google Form for x1 entry **THIS IS A MUST**

3. You are eligible for a second entry if you reblog with art of your character. **MAX OF X1 EXTRA ENTRY**

4. Draw will end when I reach my following Goal of 300 followers.

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScUMw0ODJk1_U8yPpxrcvERabsPMNd8dL2FJV4wCmvnuK0FEw/viewform?usp=preview

. 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ PRIZES ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

*I WILL HAVE PRESET YCH POSES AT THE TIME OF WINNERS BEING ANNOUNCED, WINNER WILL CHOOSE BETWEEN CHOICES GIVEN.*

🦇 1ST PLACE: (YCH) FULL BODY RENDER

🦇2ND PLACE: (YCH) HALF BODY BUST

🦇3RD PLACE: (YCH) ICON

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

good luck to everyone !! If you have any questions please send them my way via the comments or through DMS!

[fizzyxcustard]

Covert Eyes (25)

Prologue| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, smut, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery, abduction, hostage situation, PTSD, torture mention.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy is now working for MI-5, after being recruited by Ros. But will her involvement with Lucas cause even more problems and heartbreak?

When Amy's parents get involved, how will things pan out for Amy and Lucas?

Official soundtrack list:  here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. People who don't engage are gradually being removed from my tag list.

This fic does have an ending in sight...finally. :)

Feedback, comments and suggestions are always very valuable. My messages and ask box (including anons!) are open.

Thank you so much to those of you who have remained with me through this journey writing this story, and while we are very close to the end of this story, it's not the end of Lucas and Amy! ;)

Morning sickness began, or at least got stronger; Amy couldn’t quite tell. Most mornings that Amy had got up in the last month and she had felt nauseous, probably due to her anxiety spikes, and not just the hormones beginning to surge.  

On the day that Amy was due to meet with Ros and she could barely keep any food in her stomach. Two rounds of toast had been immediately thrown back up. Three days later would be Amy’s booking appointment, where she would speak to a doctor or midwife face to face and begin the process of booking her first scan.

Amy was shaking in the bathroom, unable to control the emotions that were flooding her. She couldn’t face the mirror and turned away, feeling the tears begin to fall. They had been relentless the last six weeks. And after she had been faced with three positive pregnancy tests and then been pushed away again by Lucas, that huge, gaping hole in her gut had grown exponentially. It was overpowering her now, rendering her broken. 

Nights were the worst. Amy was left alone with nothing but her thoughts, and she would always think of Lucas. She replayed the memories of when he tickled her under the bedclothes, when he would come behind her in the kitchen and wind his arms around her, the feel of his hand in hers, the smell of his cologne, the sound of his voice. Every night and she prayed he would contact her, but he didn’t. Her texts and WhatsApp remained empty of any new messages from Lucas North. 

Even her dreams reflected her deep longing for him, and the emptiness that was dragging her down, pulling her into a black sea of nothingness. Upon waking she would remember shards of her dreams in which she was calling for him, crying out, begging. And when she woke, she would feel tears clinging to her cheeks. 

Ros waited for Amy in a Costa, which was in the city centre of Coventry. She slipped away towards the back of the shop and waited. It wasn’t long before she saw Amy’s familiar figure step into the building. 

Amy stopped, scanned the sea of heads and then nodded as she caught Ros’ gaze. 

“What would you like? I’ll get it,” Ros offered with a faint smile. 

“Just a cup of tea, please. I need to keep it a little more bland. I’ve been really sick the last day or two,” Amy said. 

Ros didn’t answer, but instead walked to the counter and placed her order. 

Amy sat down, being temporarily taken back to the café she frequented with Lucas. The place where it all began just over a year ago. It would be their one year anniversary the following week if they had still remained together. The night when Amy had fully let him in, the beginning of their rocky relationship.

Amy watched Ros order their drinks. Why did these people sacrifice everything in their lives just for the sake of a job? What was it about MI5 that was so special? They had given up their normal lives, friends, family, for this job. Lucas thought he could have a normal life, but that had all turned out to be false. No one had a normal life. The long list of casualties on the job proved that. Amy had heard about many of them. Surveillance operatives who had found themselves in deeper shit than they could have ever imagined. 

A tightness was growing in Amy’s chest now, that sensation which had been a friend of hers since Lucas left her life. She woke up with it every morning now, sometimes accompanied with a tension headache and a sense of dread at facing a new day. 

“What should I do?” Amy asked simply, as Ros placed the drinks down on the table. “Lucas is adamant that my parents are right, and has told me he’ll come to the scans and birth but won’t be with me. How can I get through to him?” 

Ros sighed and began opening a sachet of sugar. “Lucas is stubborn at the best of times. But if you want to be together enough then you’ll do it. Lucas wants you safe, and neither of us can argue with that.” 

“I’m not worth the fight for him.” 

“No, it’s not that at all,” Ros said, shaking her head for emphasis. “I’ve known him about three years now, and never saw him as content as when he was with you. He finally seemed at peace with himself. You really bring out the best in him, and he adores you. Never think anything less than that. Lucas never does anything by half measure, especially when it comes to you.” 

Amy looked down into her lap and felt the tears come again. “I wish he would let me make up my own mind. He’s always making decisions for me.” 

“I know, and I’ve told him that. By your parents and Lucas protecting you, they’re suffocating you. We’ve all got to make our own way in life sooner or later. I’ve made enough of my own choices in life, some good and some bad. I know full well that this job comes with risk to those you love. I lost someone I loved through it.” 

“I’m so sorry, Ros. I had no idea,” Amy replied. 

Ros smiled at Amy. “You didn’t know him, but you’ve probably heard his name mentioned. Adam Carter. Things wouldn’t have worked out between us. I always knew that. The job kept us apart, but he died on the job, same as his wife, Fiona. MI5 will either make or break you, Amy. But either way, once you’re in, you don’t leave. You and Lucas are truly devoted to each other, and you deserve happiness.” 

***

“You’re approximately twelve weeks,” the midwife told Amy. “Baby is growing well. Seems quite active.” 

Then Amy heard it: the first actual sound of her baby’s heartbeat. Amy smiled, staring at the screen, looking at the moving mass. Sharon held Amy’s hand, watching her daughter’s face as it lit up for the first time in six weeks since being home in Coventry. 

“I estimate your due date approximately the last week of August.” The midwife wiped the gel from Amy’s stomach and paused the image on the screen, printing the scan. “I’ll book you for your next scan, and hopefully then we can determine the sex of the baby, if you want to know.” 

Amy smiled. “I’d love to know. I always had it planned out in my head that if I had children, I’d want to know. It helps me get to know them better.” 

The midwife, a middle-aged lady with short greying hair and glasses, smiled. “That’s nice,” she said simply. 

Amy looked away and sighed. Of course the midwife wouldn’t be as interested; she saw dozens of pregnant women every day, and no doubt they all sounded like a broken record to her. 

Would Lucas want to know the sex of their child? He should have been here, but Amy couldn’t stand the idea of him being half in and half out, having to see him at scans but not being able to go home with him. Everything at the moment was a mixture of emotion, and it was confusing. One minute she was sad, the next angry. The grief of an ended relationship, and the anger of Lucas making the decision he had, alternated frequently, like a whirlwind. 

In the car and Amy sat in the passenger seat, her thumb trailing the curve of the baby’s head. “Should I send a copy to Lucas?” she asked absently. 

“I still think it’s best he has no part in this,” Sharon hissed. “We’ll all pull together as a family, we always do.” 

***

Time passed, weeks turning into months. 

Amy felt the tension and anxiety lessen, as the nausea got worse by her fifth month, and then eased again. The fluttering sensations began, something she knew was inevitable as the baby grew. Her stomach was becoming harder and more prominent, resting a little heavier on the waist of her trousers. 

Ros still remained in touch, having formally put Amy on early maternity leave after two months of sick leave. She had done all she could to keep the position open for Amy and also enable money to continue coming in, so she at least had something to live off. 

Lucas was silent. Sometimes his deafening silence brought her to tears in the middle of the night as she lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, praying he would be back beside her one day. She tried to imagine what the baby would look like, giving it Lucas’ grey blue eyes. But thinking on the baby’s appearance, always caused her to break down again. 

***

Over a hundred miles away, in London, Lucas sat at the dining room table. He stared at the wall, the lifeless atmosphere of the place seeping into every fibre of his being. Three and a half months now he had lived by himself, haunted by Amy. Every inch of the place reminded him of her. After all, it was her flat originally. Living with her had been bliss; he would kiss her on his way out of the door, or at the main door to their office as they travelled in, pining for the end of the day when he would see her again. 

Lucas walked slowly into the kitchen and looked out of the window, into the communal garden. It was growing dusk, with longer days moving in as the weeks passed quickly through spring. He thought of Amy, imagining her sitting in the garden, holding a baby on her lap, reading her old battered copy of The Hobbit, with a warm sun high in the sky. He had given her the ultimate gift, the one thing she had wanted for a while now, but he couldn’t enjoy it with her. Lucas knew she would be an amazing mother; doting, kind, eager to play and re-live her own childhood through their little one. 

Work seemed to be the only thing that got Lucas through each day, making him soldier on in this empty existence. It felt like being back in prison. Rather than being locked in a cell, he was locked in loneliness within his own mind. Memories of Amy were all around him. Would he ever be able to let go? The more he pondered on that fact, the more he knew the answer. The years Lucas had spent with Elizabeta had revolved around their work as operatives, and upon his return to the UK from Russia, their temporary ties were still work-based, her being his handler. The months with Sarah were, again, work-based. Everything revolved around MI5. Amy was so different. Their relationship had been built away from work, despite work being the thing that was constantly pushing them toward breaking point. Their love for each other was almost innocent, pure. It didn’t revolve around necessity. 

One way to numb the pain was alcohol. In the last few weeks and Lucas had welcomed whiskey and vodka into his life on a more permanent basis. The bedside table housed half empty bottles. 

Lucas even made himself feel the pain of showers, turning on the fast jet of water so he could be taken back to his days of torture in Lushanka. Re-live the waterboarding, where ice cold water was thrown over him as he begged for mercy and tried desperately to hold onto the information the Russians so badly wanted. He deserved the pain and the anguish. Beneath the water he shivered and wept, waiting and wishing for everything to end. Then maybe upon his deathbed, he could at least see her one last time in his moments of euphoria. 

That night and he sat on the edge of the bed, downing whiskey from the bottle. He rubbed his stubbled chin and stared aimlessly through the gloom. 

Amy was so ready to fight for you and you just let her go. 

But she needs to be protected. Her and the baby. 

You want her and she wants you. Fuck what her parents think. 

The arguments raged. Back and forth the voices went, turning into whispers the more that Lucas drank from the bottle. 

Tears trickled down Lucas’ cheek as he picked up his phone, and for the first time in months, he sent a single message to Amy. The alcohol had worn his inhibitions right down. 

I love you. 

***

Amy stared at the message, unable to comprehend that Lucas had actually sent her something. He’d been silent now for months, so she had taken this as her sign to leave him be and go through her pregnancy alone. The timestamp on the message was 2:04am. Messages in the dead of night were always a cry for help in some way. She whispered his name, still feeling stunned and not sure what to do. 

A few hours passed and Amy still wondered what on earth to do with the message from Lucas. She’d looked back at the message multiple times, making sure that she wasn’t imagining it all. But it was still there. Three simple, desperate words. 

An incoming call came from Ros. 

“Hi, Ros. Is everything okay?” Amy asked, trying to force a cheerful tone. 

“I wish I could say it was,” she replied. “Lucas didn’t turn up for work this morning, and has been coming in smelling of drink. Amy, he’s not doing well. He needs you.” 

Amy sighed and swallowed hard. “He’s stubborn, Ros. No matter what I say and do, he won’t let me come back. You know he won’t.” 

“Something tells me not this time.” 

A short time later and Amy was staring at a letter she had left on her parents’ dining table. She had explained that she needed to go back to London and was taking the next available train out to London Euston. Amy knew her parents would go absolutely ballistic, especially her mum. But there was no way she could let Lucas remain alone and suffer. 

Lucas had suffered enough in his life and all Amy wanted was to see him find peace, wherever and whoever he found that with. He deserved peace; after all, he put his life on the line daily to protect the UK public. Of course he deserved some peace. She wanted to embrace him, comfort him, just be there and hold him during his dark hours. 

On the train an hour later and Amy flicked through her purse, checking that she had enough cash to get her across London to her old flat. But as she rummaged in the coin compartment, she felt something long against her fingers. It was her original flat keys; two of them held together on a ring. One got her through the front door into the lobby area, and the other got her into the flat itself. Why had she kept them all this time? Was it because she always knew she would one day be going back? 

The flashing of buildings and landscape somehow soothed her, while a teenage girl of around sixteen years of age sat next to Amy, flicking through Instagram, and occasionally posing in her front facing camera. 

The closer she got to London and the more she could feel the fluttering in her belly, which was now showing. 

For a second, she placed her hand on her bump and smiled. 

We’re going to see your daddy. 

Apprehension and excitement both rose inside Amy. She had missed Lucas more than she could ever express, and while on the underground and then walking the street, getting closer to the flat, she could feel her anxiety taking hold. 

The last time she had been in London and it had been cold, but now it was mild, a sure sign of spring. It was just after six in the evening when she made it to her old building and looked at the familiar sight. Sadness rose in her chest and she thought back on the day she had moved in, nervous at the prospect of a new beginning. Now she had another new beginning on the horizon, one that involved a new person, a new life. 

Amy let herself into the main front entrance of the building, and then walked down the corridor to flat number three. With a deep breath, she knocked, waiting for a response. 

***

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[nyoxt]

Saw posts about oc kiss week floating around, which reminded that I promptly failed to do anything for it even though some people gave me the green light to smooch their OCs with my OCs And I tried to identify problems that stopped me last year, and one of them is definitely a decision paralysis, so this time I'll try to fix...that. By providing options.

You know the drill- send an ask with your OC you want to be smooched, pick my OC (either Ram or young Mutt), gib me the number, wait and hope I'll manage to sketch it this time :D

[harryinramshackle]

Get yourself a man like Chris Keaton (4 arms included)

He gives bi wife energy by cringe and the lizards, bro is my only cishet oc and he's the biggest ally you'll find

tag list (for me to copy paste lmao): @ramshacklerumble @thehollowwriter @summerspook @scint1llat3 @skriblee-ksk

@cyanide-latte @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @oya-oya-okay @viperbunnies @jadelover69

@twsted-void @lallopsyou (lmk/dm if you wanna be added)

[kaisumisucreations]

kinda relating to last post, heres some art i made of my bug dragon critter thing. i originally drew these a while ago but never posted/kept tweaking them

[bittertoxicity]

OOOoooOOoooo! 👻

Happy Halloween from the lovely blossom himself Boris~🎃🍬🤖🕸️🐈‍⬛💀👻🍭

[invinciblerodent]

well, that felt.....

worse.

that felt distinctly worse.

at least when I saved Minrathous as a Shadow Dragon, I had Lucanis to direct my character's anger onto (in the "I saved my home; where the fuck does he get off blaming me for making the exact decision he would have made" sort of way), but Neve and the Viper both being more tired and understanding, rather than pissed, and them diffusing even Tarquin's accusations to protect Rook.... that honestly makes me feel like a thousand times shittier than angrily/guiltily blasting through the Blight boils in the canals (with Lucanis nowhere in sight) did.

........... upside, at least my boy looked positively dashing the whole way through, and he got to yell at Solas again, that's at least something

[vaintrdraws]

happy Halloween guys I saw the chance to cover my little creature in blood and took it

the outfit is based off of the movie Maxxxine let's talk about it pls pls pls I love her