#i think its funny that ada is so far behind him

[theonlyadawong]

ada and leon in the sewers

[spookymystery67]

I Wish I Could Walk In Heels

AN: Almost a 3,000 word chapter! May not be a lot, but believe me, that is an accomplished for me at the moment lmao. I hope you all enjoy this one, and I thank you for the patience. Enjoy!

Chapter 26:

“We got everything you need.” Ada said, straight to business once you, her, and Luis all met up after finishing your assigned tasks.

Luis took the items handed over to him and smiled. “Good, and I got exactly what you want.” He took a vial out of his pocket and presented it to Ada. You leaned forward to take a closer look at the object.

The Amber.

Ada placed her hand on the vial, but immediately withdrew and held her head in pain as soon as she made contact. You looked at her face closely in concern and noted that the symptoms of the parasite looked worse and far more obvious then they had been.

Luis immediately backed away with the Amber still in hand. “Oh, that's not good. The parasite is reacting to the Amber.” 

“So that's the Amber.” Ada's grimace of pain turned into a small, unamused, smile. “That looks like something Wesker would want.”

You held out your arm for her to gain her balance back, which she took gratefully, giving you a small squeeze in thanks. 

Luis shoved the Amber back onto his pocket and quickly ran over to a large crate to place his kit onto it. He got to work, tinkering with the ingredients as Ada tried to walk off the head pain the parasite caused. But she just ended up just leaning against the wall and waiting for Luis to be done.

“It's funny.” You started, purposely trailing off to gain her attention. Her confusion at your statement was slightly amusing to you.

“What's funny?” She wondered weakly as you leaned beside her.

“The Amber. I think it's funny that such a small, seemingly insignificant thing could potentially be a weapon of mass destruction. Well, if it is in the wrong hands.”

And you knew for sure that Wesker is definitely considered the wrong hands. 

“You have a weird sense of humor.” Ada's lips twitched from her own snarky response, before once again pulling back into a grimace as her head throbbed in pain.

“Well, not funny. I guess funny isn't the right word…” Your brows furrowed as you tried to think of another word for it. “Ironic? Irritating? Fucking ridiculous-”

She huffed a small laugh, interrupting you. “I know what you meant before. I'm just giving you a hard time.”

“Nice to know you feel okay enough to do so.” You laughed. Luis is finally done with his science stuff and turns to the both of you.

“This will knock out the parasite. But only for a time. Are you ready?” Luis explains, walking over to Ada with a syringe needle. 

“A tu salud.” He fake cheered, before sticking the syringe in her neck, giving her a dose of the temporary medicine. She winced as he did so, and you just held her hand in reassurance.

“Just remember, it's not a cure. We still need to find a way to get that thing out of you.” Luis reminded you both. You looked over Ada for any sign that she is better, but the dark veins along her face are as prominent as ever.

Suddenly, Ada grimaced and gasped. “It's coming.” 

Luis and you immediately looked behind to see the large bug man slowly stalking toward you all. Luis quickly dropped the syringe and helped you guide a pained Ada away from the approaching creature.

“I don't understand! It should be working by now!” Luis exclaimed in confusion. 

“Maybe it is delayed?” You suggested, glancing over your shoulder at the bug man. 

Its appearance still sickens you.

Ada shoved him away and you right after, leaning against the ledged wall. “Take the Amber and go. Once the parasite is sedated, you can give me back that damn stone.” She ordered Luis, before glancing at you and nodding her head in your direction. “and take her with you.”

With wide eyes, your mouth hangs open in disbelief. “What!? Hell no! Absolutely not!” 

Luis wasn't having it either. “I can't leave you here, not like this!” He argued.

She put her hand up, gasping in pain. ���Spare me, I'll be fine. You got another promise to keep, Luis.” She faced you. “Listen Y/n, I can't fight this thing while also worrying about you right now. Get out of here and keep an eye on Luis and the Amber. Please.” 

“Not happening! Not again.” You argued.

She sighed, facing the man who stood beside you when she decided she would get nowhere arguing with you. “Luis, get her out of here. And keep her safe.”

Luis looked back as the creature stalked closer, then to you, before reluctantly nodding in understanding. “Alright. But you come find me… as soon as you're done here.”

Ada let out a weak laugh and nodded in agreement.

“Let's go, Sénorita.” Luis tightly grabbed your arm and dragged you away, knowing you wouldn't be leaving here without a fight.

“Luis, no! Get the hell off of me! I can't leave Ada! Luis!” You attempted to pull out of his grasp, but he simply huffed and picked you up by your waist and rearranged you into a hold that would allow him to get you away from the scene quickly, as Ada had requested.

You huffed and yelled, extremely pissed off that you couldn't get out of Luis's tight grasp. You needed to get back and help Ada. But he would not let go.

“Sénorita, please! I wouldn't be doing this if Ada didn't think it was for the best. She'll be fine.” Luis said. This was an attempt to calm you as he took you further and further away. It didn't really work. And you could tell that your constant struggling was beginning to get on his nerves a little as it continued. But yet, you persisted.

Six years of training and you can't get out of his hold? Well, you could think of a couple of ways to escape. But all of them required an injury or two on his part. You may be angry, but you didn't want to hurt your friend. And that was really holding you back.

“Luis, please let me go. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” You threatened, though it came out very weak and not as serious sounding as you had hoped it would.

He seemed to have caught on to your bluff. But still, he does his best to make you see reason. “I'm sure you would, but Y/n…” He placed you down and put his hands on your shoulders, simultaneously keeping you from running off and making you focus on him. “Ada told me to keep you safe. And she told you to keep an eye on me. And who's technically the boss here?”

Wesker, was the name your smart ass mouth wanted to say. Though you decided against it. 

Besides, Wesker is currently not here on this mission with you all. And the boss on said mission sure as hell wasn't you and Luis. “Ada.” 

He nodded, “Right! And I'm not going to argue with her if she is certain about something. She said she can handle it, and I believe her. Don't you?” 

You hesitated. You know Ada can handle herself. And you supposed you could understand her wanting all possible distractions gone while she is in such a vulnerable state. The fact was, you are a possible distraction to her. 

You have to trust Ada with this.

“Yes. She can handle it.” You sighed, before nodding to the general direction Luis was heading before you stopped him. “I suppose we should get that medicine to Leon, huh?”

“Yes! Great! Let's go.” Luis responded with a grin.

As Luis walked in front of you to lead the way, you glanced over your shoulder to where you had left Ada. As much as you wanted to take this opportunity to run back to Ada, you didn't. Ada can handle this. You know she can.

With that last thought, you followed Luis. Knowing that eventually you and Ada will reunite soon.

—

Leon looked confused and surprised when the elevator door opened and he saw you and Luis standing just outside of it. He had just recovered from one of the side effects of the parasite when the ride had ended and the door opened. His eyes darted between you and Luis. You waved.

Luis just smirked and lightly shook a box filled with the medicine he made. “I'll make it cheap for you.” 

Luis gave Leon the medicine. Afterwards, your small group all sat in silence as you waited for it to take effect. 

“Feeling better?” Luis asked as he fiddled with his lighter.

“Yeah. Seems like it works.” Leon replied.

“Bad news? All we've done is buy you some time. The suppressors’ effects will wear off all too soon.” Luis informed him. Leon contemplated this as he stared at the other suppressant made for Ashley held in his hand.

Leon faced you, “Weren't you with Ada?” 

“I was. We had to seperate for a little while.” You shrugged nonchalantly before joking, “Figured I would hang out with Luis for a bit.” Leon hummed and nodded.

“And…how did you two meet?” Leon asked skeptically.

You glanced at Luis, unsure if you both should tell Leon the full truth. That you met him because he had once been a scientist working for Umbrella who you had to find to get the Amber. You felt like it was a story that wasn't yours to tell.

Luis decided to answer for you, “Oh you know, through the chaos of it all. Now, are you ready to go? No time to waste.”

“Are you well enough to go on?” You questioned, making sure he was for sure ready to leave.

Leon agreed that it was time to go. With a nod, he responded. “Don't worry about me. Ashley is the priority.” 

Luis clicked his lighter shut while you stood up from your crossed legged position on the hard ground. You gave up on being as clean as you could hours ago.

“In that case, we know what we have to do.” He picked up a yellow pipe and held it as if he was holding a shotgun. “Then come, Sancho Panza! Let us rescue the Princess Dulcinea!” He yelled heroically as you followed behind.

Leon walked past him, taking the pipe out of his hands as he did. “You're going to hurt yourself.” He deadpanned, dropping the pipe to the ground.

“Hey! That was my lance!” Luis dejectedly exclaimed. 

You walked around him with a small, amused, laugh. “Come on, Luis.” 

Luis sighed and ran to your side. “Okay, we hurry! I get it!”

“Why help me though? What's in it for you?” Leon asked Luis from ahead of you.

“No need to be suspicious! I said I'd help you, didn't I?” 

Leon climbed up a yellow ladder. “Little hard for me to put my faith in someone who used to work for Umbrella.”

“So you heard, huh?” Luis sighed. “Umbrella's done for. You don't need to worry about them anymore.” 

“You didn't answer my question. What are you after?” Leon repeated.

“I just want to feel good about myself. Make amends. Or something like that.” He admitted, somewhat sadly. 

You gently nudged his arm for his attention,  giving him a supportive smile once you had it. He gave a grin back, happy that you were supportive of him and his goal. That you weren't mad at him for having worked for Umbrella in the past and that you weren't angry with him for taking you away from Ada. 

You understood how he feels. He regrets his past, and now he wants to make it up to himself and to others. You fully supported that and would help him best you can while you were here.

As you went down the path Leon led, your little group was blocked off by some villagers in the way, forcing you to fight them off. When the fight ended, Leon had come up with the plan to clear up the blocked path by blowing up the mine shaft with dynamite. 

“¡Dios mio! Give me a heads up next time!” A startled Luis exclaimed as Leon ran ahead again.

“You handle yourself pretty well… you sure you're just a researcher?” Leon asked Luis.

“I'm just an average guy who happens to be quite the ladies man.” Luis shrugged.

“That statement gave me deja vu.” You grinned, thinking about a similar statement he made a while ago.

Luis grinned in response, remembering the same conversation you both had back at the church. Before he was kidnapped of course.

Leon led you to a vent cover, before crouching and pulling at it to open. When that didn't work, he stood and delivered a very impressive and powerful kick, successfully opening it and allowing you all access to the other room. 

“Damn. Leon's got moves now.” You lightly teased.

He huffed and hid the smirk that tugged at his mouth, before glancing at Luis. Luis backed up and gestured to the opening, “After you, I insist.” 

Leon immediately turned away and crouched at the hole. “Such a gentleman.” He deadpanned, unimpressed.

Before he could jump through, the face of a giant appeared suddenly with a roar and scared the hell out of all of you. Leon quickly attempted to back away, but was quickly grabbed by the giant.

Luis and you immediately took a hold of Leon's hands and attempted to get him out of the giant's hold. Sadly, you were both dragged out along with him. 

You slammed to the ground beside Luis with a grunt, quickly rolling onto your back to see Leon was still within the giant's grasp. Luis took out his pistol and immediately shot the giant, making it drop Leon to the ground. You scrambled to your feet and grabbed your gun, putting as much space between you and the giant as possible. One swat of its hand and you are done.

“Now you owe me!” Luis yelled.

“Luis, heads up!” Leon warned with a shout. 

Luis looked up and immediately scrambled out of the way, seeing a second giant stomp onto the spot he once stood.

You stand beside Leon and Luis, who were still on the floor from where they fell. “Well shit.”

“Now we're even.” Snarked Leon. 

“Is it always like this with you?” Luis asked as both the men stood up and prepared for the upcoming fight.  

“How do we do this?” You wondered, wanting to know the game plan to defeat the two giants.

“Uh, Luis and I distract and attack, you look for any weaknesses from a distance and go from there.” Leon said, knowing you are handy with a gun. Which only became more and more true over the last six years. 

In fact, you preferred shooting from a distance over close combat. Especially in this scenario.

“Fine by me.” You answered with a nod. You checked your gun ammo, thinking you should be fine with the amount you've collected over the span of the mission.

One of the giants had armor on that was hard to get through with just bullets, so you quickly decided to go for the unarmoured one. Shooting for the face and the large parasite on the back that practically screamed “weakness”.

Eventually, you and Leon managed to get the one giant down. Now all that's left was the armored giant. But Leon quickly realized the same problem you did.

“Shit! Can't get through the armor.” Leon cursed.

“Wouldn't it be nice if we had a grenade launcher again?” You huffed.

He nodded, moving to the switch to the hot melted metal pool, opening it for a moment before it closed again. “Maybe we can use this.”

“Sorry, keep our friend busy for me!” Luis yelled from somewhere, clearly having an idea. You just kept your eyes on the giant. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Leon questioned. But Luis did not answer. He looked over at you in disbelief.

“I guess we keep it busy!” You shrugged, shooting any bit of face and skin free of armor as best you can. Not that it did much. You both just did your best to get it to stand over the hot metal grate to see if you can drop it in.

“Leon! Over here!” Luis yelled from a catwalk above. When you got the giant within jumping distance, he jumped onto the giant's back quickly, placing dynamite on its back, before jumping back off again. Now all we have to do is shoot to activate the dynamite and see if we can get its armor off.

“Heh, got a little present just for you! Shoot it!” He yelled.

Without hesitance, you and Leon aimed for the dynamite and shot it. It exploded and the parasite was now free and shootable.

Luis whistled, “Beautiful! Just as planned. Now let's finish this guy off!” 

With the power of teamwork, you eventually got the giant to fall through the hot metal pool, finally finishing off the fight. You almost felt bad for it. It had to have been a painful death.

“Ouch.” You winced.

“Try not to think about it.” Leon suggested. You nodded and gathered around another vent with him and Luis. Luis was boosted through by Leon and he opened the door by the other side. 

With that, you exited the makeshift battle arena. Happy that the fight was over.

[mikarchive2]

books i read in march 2023 📚

( trying the read more thing for the first time ever cause this is so long hope it works 💖 )

1. the hurting kind by ada limón - ★★★★★ - goddamn it, i really cant decide between four and five stars here . but at the end of the day, even though i cant say i loved every single poem, the collection as a whole is so full of life and defiant grace i just cant resist rounding up . ada limón has to be one of the best nature poets ive read so far ( cant wait to reread some of these poems outside when spring begins to feel like spring ), and also one of the few who can truly make this blunt and direct writing style work . if i were to talk about every poem i enjoyed, id be here all day but shout out to foaling season specifically that one hit me almost physically

2 + 3. the sandman: the kindly ones ( vol. 9 ) + the sandman: the wake ( vol. 10 ) by neil gaiman - all the stars in space . to me - if i loved it less, i might be able to talk about it more . shrimp emotions dont even begin to describe everything these last two volumes make me feel . i say this all the time though + there is not much else i can say without spoiling things, so . i dont know . just read it . the one thing i want everyone to take from this blog is that they should read it

4. panics by barbara molinard - ★★★★ - i think i found this thanks to lees ( stephaniesays1968 ) storygraph ... one of the instances in which the story behind how something was written is almost more interesting than the writing itself . barbara molinard was known for destroying her work and this is the only book she ever published - and being aware of that does make the stories even more haunting . or haunted perhaps . very madwoman in the attic, very surrealistic, recommending this to those who enjoy kafka and shirley jackson

favourites: the plane from santa rosa, the fathers apartment, untitled ( isolated fragments, liberty ), taxi, the sponge, im alone and its night, the vault

5. serious concerns by wendy cope - ★ - i expected this collection to have roughly the same energy as the famous orange poem, but instead it was just very ... english wine mom after her fourth divorce . though undeniably witty, occasionally funny and even somewhat subversive, the ever-present vibe of cynical pragmatism made it completely unenjoyable for me . however, wendy copes wikipedia page claims that her later collections are different so perhaps i just started in the wrong place ? i wouldnt want to discourage anyone from giving this collection or author a try, but personally i simply dont share her sense of humor

6. contemplation by franz kafka - ★★★ - i spontaneously picked up the czech translation during a slow day at work and ... well, it sure helped pass the time ! i have no idea how i feel about kafkas fiction to be honest - on the one hand he is so much more than the sadboy people tend to reduce him to and there is certain joie de vivre in his writing, on the other hand i find his style ... dry . ( saying that feels like a crime ) this was a pretty hit-or-miss collection for me, but i feel more motivated to read more of his work now, so . a win is a win

favourites: the sudden walk, excursion into the mountains, passers-by, on the tram, clothes, rejection, reflections for gentlemen-jockeys, the street window

7. howls moving castle by diana wynne jones - ★★★★ - this was so whimsical and chaotic and just bursting with creativity . way more down-to-earth than i expected, but it was almost healing to see these really flawed characters loved and happy . im so excited to watch the movie now, unlike everyone else i didnt feel much for book howl ( i just kept thinking he needs a fancam set to womanizer ) but perhaps i will fall for his movie version ? we will see . im very intrigued by diana wynne jones' style, it made the story seem as if it was writing itself ... cant wait to read more ! and recommend her work to every child i run into

up next: i said this last month, but i need to read my silly little college textbooks for real this time, so i should take a little break from this weird marathon reading i seem to be doing . anyway i hope to slowly get thru weavers, scribes, and kings by amanda h. podany ( finally ! nonfiction ! ) and um . well . there is still the prequel to the sandman . and a few spin-offs that seem interesting . and i downloaded stardust the other day because i love actively making my parasocial relationships worse . i should disclose that im horrible at planning though, so chances are i will just read ten completely random books again instead of any of these . love and light

[mnovenia]

H-7 then H-5 till I meet you again 광광!!

I just feel like crying, and the song said: amugodo duryowon mara! I'm not afraid of anything that will come my way. Reflecting back since Bali Camp, so much has changed, every areas of my life seem ALIVE, CLOSER TO GOD, VERY PERSONAL, INTIMATE, FULL OF TRUST, FUN, EASY, LIGHT, NO WORRY that what I can say. And God gave me bonus by putting some sort of Godly magical romance too, that I still praying for and willing to believe and surrender to God.

And I witness how God works, He didn't stop working even when I forgot to pray about, when I think someone might not do it seriously, when I think it might just be a wishful thinking. Even now I still not sure about many thing, but one thing I sure of, my life will change forever once GwangHui comes to Bali, which is in 5 days. Really?

Hmm, I said to him today, can't believe I get to say see you soon. Well our communication is quite intense these days as we're counting down the days. Visa, my own misunderstanding, housing, phone, prayer with pastors, etc. He said: nuna im nervous, i'm going to meet Ps Paul tonight. Nuna it's 7 days left. Nuna I'll call you, Buchangnim OoOoOoOo etc.. The funniest thing is when I'm trying to ensure his room @ Tintin: out of 53rooms available there was only 1 room available 205 which next to mine (NOWAY), I asked again, ok 217 will be available on Jan 2nd, oo perfect I said, numberwise its a bit far from mine. Till I checked myself, the room is behind me -__- which means he can see all my laundries and we can have some sort of romeo & juliet relationship (sumpah ya ini impian gw dr smp bisa sbeelah2an di drama korea ky ChunYang, Business Proposal & smua yg kebetulan lainnya -___-). Trus ga lama kemudian sih ada room 223, then I think ok let's make video & make GH choose, but before I did it, someone took the room already. So I told Bella which one is better? Next to mine or behind me? She called me rightaway giggling. OMG this is just so funny.

Well I think what I know is, both me and him we're completely on the same path. We're focus on what God wants us to do in life, we don't go to the left or right but straight according to His words, what we care the most is expanding God's kingdom and be a witness of how God words, be obedient to His command even it doesn't make sense to the world, we both has dream of having Godly family but in the meantime we're working our best to fill our days with ensuring young people to be Jesus' disciples, enjoying God's grace, covenant and promises, we trust God will provide for us in job and financial, we're willing to learn each others' language/cultere/differences/age gap with respect and carefulness to not hurt and make stupid decisions. And what I'm trying to remember clearly here is: if being in relationship with him bring glory to God, if it what God wants and intend us to do, if it shapes us to become more like Jesus and selfless, if it becomes our testimony of how God works in our waiting, if we're capable to be example of building Godly family, then I know it will worth to be pursued. Not only for my own romantic fulfilment, not for filling my pride and own benefit, not because of korean syndrome, not because I want to rush thing as I get older, not because that temporary fling and childish cling, but just because of God's grace, His mercy, His will not mine, so here I state on the 2nd to last day of 2023, NOT MY WILL GOD BUT YOURS :)

And for you Gwang Hui, thank you for appear in my life, thank you for such joy and precious time we spent, for pursuing and being obedient of what God put in your heart, for listening to me and communicate with me while being careful and weird sometimes in my opinion. Thank you for showing what faith looks like in your silence but your action speak louder than any man I ever met. Since the first time to tell me about staying in bali over our trip to GL, when you told your dad when I was in Korea, when you told your relatives during chuseok time, when you handed your resignation letter, when you waited till your time to disciples your Sun is over, when you told me about your last day of work, your willingness to learn Bhs Indonesia, visa, applying to BIH, learn about choir, cafe, korean dermatologist, coming to Indonesia Service, setting up meetings with your Pastor before making any decision, your finance plan, your honesty and transparency with me, for telling me about your days, I RESPECT YOU, A LOT KIM GWANG HUI :) and I can't wait to adventure this journey, another exciting chapter in our lives that God provides, to witness together what God will do through us. May God lead us, protect us, make His will be done GREATLY through us and our ministry. I can not wait to see you again :)

[sweetcoffeebean]

Fluff & Smut Fic

welp it do be another leon fic that i wrote between the hours of 12 am and 4 am

i believe the longest i’ve written??? which is spicy. this one however features an OC, although not by name. characteristics are mentioned and her personality and backstory, but that’s it. please feel free to immerse yourself and treat it as a leon/reader fic. and if you get the chance, it’s also posted on archiveofourown if you’d like to leave a comment or kudos <3

Another morning comes, where she steps into the quiet kitchen and opens the blinds to the window above the sink, letting in the early rays of light that shine over the countertops and negate the need for the kitchen light. It’s a quiet morning, 7:04 AM on the dot, according to the time on the stove. The silence is welcoming, after too many mornings of action and terror that had plagued her and her love over the years, the likes of which made her forget the rising sun was ever warm and inviting like it was as it spilled into the silent kitchen.

Turning on the coffee pot, she watches as the caffeine slowly drips its way down into a proper morning drink, the scent of it quickly filling the room. She reaches for the mugs in the cabinet just above the pot, the quiet clinks of porcelain on porcelain echoing together, another sign of a peaceful morning. It always hit her hard as she thought about the years before, and how something so normal and commonplace always surprised her when she was in the midst of it. So many people woke up to mornings like this each day, no doubt dreading a long work day or simply going through the motions without a second thought. To her, and to her love, this was paradise. This was what they craved, something they fought for without even realizing it over the fight for peace and the safety of the world’s people.

Only once the coffee had finished brewing and she was pouring it out, did she hear the sound of feet shuffling towards the kitchen. Looking over her shoulder, she sees the man she had grown to love with her entire being over the years.. The man she fought beside, the man she had supported and who supported her through every trial and tribulation.. One of the very few people who knew exactly the horrors she had experienced, and vice versa. Face was unshaven, a five ‘o clock shadow adorning his handsome features, coupled with the dirty blond hair she’d run her fingers through a countless amount of times. Leon barely had his eyes open as he came straight for the counter, straight for her, and wrapped both arms around her waist while she let herself relax against his muscular frame.

“Morning, sweetheart… still getting up so damn early..?” He lets his chin rest on her shoulder, arms staying slightly slack around her waist so she’s still able to move as she tilts the coffee pot, watching as she slowly fills both mugs.

“Old habits are hard to break… but who’s to say we can’t just lay back in bed after we have some coffee? And maybe food. Food would be lovely.”

Leon laughs at her words, knowing full well she would be hungry in the morning as she always was after waking up. She feels the way he brings one arm up, and pushes back her hair off to one side of her body, revealing her neck to him. Next comes the feeling of familiar lips, kissing along her skin languidly… once, twice. A third time over a fading pink mark he had left the night before.

With a soft giggle, she brings one hand up to gently caress his cheek, her soft skin a contrast to the rough stubble on his face. It’s another moment she feared she wouldn’t get to have when they were in the middle of fighting the living dead and those that created them. When they were running for their lives, being shot at, being thrown around like ragdolls. And now here they both are, in a room where the only noise they hear is the sound of their bodies shifting against each other and the dulled sound of birds chirping from the trees outside.

“We deserve to have a day where we just do a whole lot of nothing. I do have to run to the store, though.. But I shouldn’t be gone more than 20 minutes.” She lifts her mug to her lips, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a small sip.

Leon lets go of her waist and moves to pick up the other mug she had poured, not bothering to blow on it the way she did and simply drank it as if it were only warm. Whether or not he did it to show off, or he was simply used to quickly downing a hot drink while he had the chance, was a mystery.

“You’re not in a rush to go, though. Right? We can worry about that later.” As he spoke, he leaned back against the counter, that fringe of hair falling near his right eye as it always did, the signature hairstyle he refused to ever get rid of. Even with his hair being unbrushed, it still fell normally to frame his face as if he had already mostly styled it for the day.

“Mhm… no rush. I want to enjoy the morning with you.” As she speaks, she sets down her mug and looks into his eyes… a beautiful blue like hers, but deeper. Darker when the light wasn’t shining into them.

It was always damn near impossible not to smile when she saw his face, even after all of the years that have passed. All of the years of heartache, fighting to survive, fighting to communicate during it all… it wasn’t easy by any measure. It wasn’t the perfect relationship either, there were personal matters to deal with on both of their ends, on their own and with each other. Ada Wong was a sore topic for a while, it took a lot of time and communication to get Leon to work through what he had going on with her in his mind. That was a point of contention, even she had trouble dealing with it at the time. And on the flip side, Leon being there to help her soften and truly open up to him, to trust him with her heart and let him see the real, unabashed sides of her. To help her learn she was meant to be loved, and she didn’t have to always rely on only herself as she had done for years before.

As she steps forward, Leon leans in towards her, both in sync as they knew what the other wanted from a simple look. Placing a hand on her hip, he gently brings her in closer as she places a hand on his chest, both leaning into each other for a kiss. Soft at first, their kiss is held for only a moment before they pull away, faces still close enough that with a subtle movement their noses would brush together.

Despite what many would think… Leon wore his heart on his sleeve. He was always compassionate, caring, and with a sense of justice like no other. While he may seem stoic and tough in many situations, if you actually talked to him… he could be surprisingly honest and earnest. In moments like these, those parts of him glowed so brightly it was blinding. Never did she think she would feel love radiating off of a man before, not like this. And not towards her.

For so many years, she knew she was a good person. She was kind, she always wanted to help, she did everything she could to help people. Not unlike Leon, really. But she kept herself hidden, spoke about herself and her life yet never told anyone anything of substance that related to her true self, her real feelings. Vulnerability was not something she learned over her years growing up, well into adulthood. Be kind, but not a pushover. Help those in need find a balance between independence and depending on others in times of necessity, but never help herself do the same. There was no such thing as a time of need for dependency to her. Things that applied to others did not apply to her, she was the exception of what she taught others. And because of that, she made peace with knowing she wouldn’t be able to find someone who would genuinely love her… who would ever get the chance to love her. Who she would ever actually be able to open up to. Who can fall for a woman hidden behind so many closed doors, she may as well not exist at all?

And how funny life is, for her to find a man who didn’t think love was an option for him, either. His work had become his life, there was no time for love and affection, for getting to know another person at all. His job being far too dangerous, friends and lovers would be a liability. It almost felt selfish to get too close to people knowing it could make them targets. For a long time, fighting and monsters was all he knew. She helped him see beyond that, to a life where he could wake up in the morning and kiss the love of his life up against the kitchen counter at 7:13 in the morning.

The sun warmed their skin as the light shone on them, both smiling softly as their gazes remained locked.

“I’ll be needing some more of that, you know…” Leon brings both hands up to her hips now, holding her in place.

“Oh…? You mean more coffee? I can pour you some more if one mug isn’t enough.” Her words with that wry smile on her face makes him laugh, making him give a small shake of his head. He pulls her closer, body pressed against body.

“More of this. More of you.”

With those final words, he wraps both arms around her waist, as she drapes her arms over his shoulders to hold him close, lips meeting in the middle again. Their bodies shifted until she stood with his leg between her own, and lips began to part and press together over and over. The sound of their kisses filled the silence of the room, even more so as his tongue slipped in to meet her own, causing a soft moan to reverberate within her throat.

Hands began to wander as one of his dipped below the hem of her shirt, calloused fingers caressing over her stomach as it moved higher and higher, lifting up her shirt with it. As he reached her ribs, just below her chest, the kisses paused as a breathy chuckle escaped his lips.

“Glad you didn’t bother putting on a bra yet.” His fingertips grazed below the curves of her breasts, teasing her.

“Mm… I wasn’t in the mood to… I don’t need one at home, do I?” She speaks softly as she leans in, placing a kiss just below his ear, then another along the side of his neck.

With a slight shiver quickly moving down his spine, Leon finally brings a hand up to properly cup her chest, one thumb brushing over her nipple. Her warm breath grazed his neck, an exhale of pleasure brought out only by a simple touch of his. With that, he spoke in a low tone of voice: “Absolutely not.”

Already, Leon could feel the blood rushing to his cock. It didn’t take much for her to bring that out of him, the curves of her body alone brought so many thoughts to his mind he could hardly stand it. She stood there, beautiful as ever in his arms, knowing that he had permission to run his hands all over her body and bring out the most delicious noises she could make. He remembered their time just the night before, only a few hours ago. When she was laying on their bed, naked, with her legs spread and beckoning for him to take her. Yet another thing that he gets to do with her that makes him forget all about the world outside of their home. The DSO, the government, the villains, the BOW’s… none of them existed in these moments.

Leon could feel the heat between her own legs pressing against his thigh, and while he may still only have just woken up, that has no effect on his strength and determination for her body. His hands reached down to grip both of her thighs, and with a brief little ‘hmph’ he lifted her up as if she hardly weighed a thing, placing her onto the countertop. The shorts she wore only covered part of her thighs, while the rest was bare and felt the cold sting of the marble countertop below her. Only a moment after he heard her mumble the word ‘cold’ did he place his hands onto her inner thighs, gently shifting them apart and responding with, “I’ll warm you up just the way you like…”

Her heart rate picked up now, as he leaned back in to kiss her, far more passionately than he had before… but still not quite as aggressively as they had kissed that night. It was still morning, after all. Part of the kitchen was still dim as the sun had yet to rise quite enough to blanket the entire room with light, much of the world beyond their window still waking up. Even they were still waking up, to a degree. It was something she absolutely loved… something exciting that they rarely ever got to do. Sleepy morning sex.

Sleepy morning sex, now taking place in their kitchen instead of their bed.

And lucky for her, Leon was already half naked. He had walked in wearing only his boxer briefs that morning, having no need to get dressed beyond that when he was staying in their house. Even she wasn’t wearing much, just a pair of underwear, shorts, and a simple t-shirt so on the off chance someone in the far distance glanced over into their windows, they wouldn’t get a free show.

His shirtlessness meant that she did not have to wait to run her fingers over his chest, feeling the taut muscles he’d built up over the years and then having the opportunity to simply look at the man who she gripped onto so tightly when he was slamming into her at top speed, edging so close to orgasm. He drove her crazy, and she drove him crazy right back.

Crazy enough that with her on the counter, rather than coming up to kiss her again, he leaned down to kiss along her inner thighs. Again, he kissed over a few fading pink marks left on her skin… sucking gently on unmarked spots to create new ones. Slowly he made his way up higher, and once he reached the apex of her thighs, he placed his hands along the waistband of her shorts.

“Lift your hips for me, baby.”

There was no hesitation as she obliged, placing her hands to her sides in order to lift herself up, allowing him the access he needed to slide her clothing off and toss it onto the kitchen floor. Leon watched her as she let her legs hang off the counter, thighs still spread apart to give him access to her already wet pussy. Her breath had already begun to pick up, he could see the rise and fall of her chest as she laid herself bare to him, a dusting of redness rising on her cheeks.

Coming forward, Leon grips her outer thighs and leans in, kissing along her skin again… unable to stop himself from teasing.

“This is new… looks like I’m the one that gets to eat first this morning.” The smirk on his lips was absolutely terrible, and she had already parted her lips to say his name, to scold him for making such a silly comment when she was spreading herself for him and trying not to lose her control. The words never came out of her mouth beyond saying the first half of his name, however, as he brought one of his hands forward and slowly dragged his middle finger up from her entrance, all the way up to brush against her clit and spread that wetness he had caused in just a matter of minutes.

Her head lolled backwards as her toes curled for just a moment, her pussy sensitive right from the start as she thought about what they were just getting up to. A soft, brief moan escaped her lips.. Only to be replaced by a sharper moan and exhale of breath, when he brought his head down, spreading her apart and immediately bringing his tongue down onto her clit.

“Leon… shit…” The words slipped out seemingly beyond her control as she shivered, looking down to see that dirty blond head of hair nestled between her legs, feeling that masterful tongue licking up and down, running in circles around her clit and tasting every inch of her. Biting her lip, she watched as his eyes gazed up at her, deep blue eyes that focused solely on her.. And even those teased her, too. Just from the look he gave her… he knew exactly what he was doing. He knew she was melting for him, that he knew every single sensitive spot she had on her body and he knew just how to play with each one.

The feeling of his rough, unshaven face against the softest, most sensitive part of her body adds an entirely new sensation that now has her toes curled indefinitely. Her thighs began to squeeze together, pressing him tighter against her body as he continued to use his tongue to pleasure her, lapping at her as if she was the greatest tasting thing he’d ever experienced. She may just be so, in actuality.

Leon knew she was getting close already, just by the way her body wracked when he reached her clit… and so he no longer focused on anything else. Keeping a tight grip on her thighs, he changed his motions as he alternated between sucking on her and flicking her with his tongue, causing her moans to truly fill the room at this point. Her body shook, hands came down to tangle in his hair… and when the waves of pleasure washed over her, she arched her back and let her head fall backwards, letting out a long drawn out, “Fuuuuccck…..!”

Not once did he stop, not when he could see that her orgasm continued to wrack her body, making her shiver over and over when it reached its peak, came slightly down, and hit her with another peak all over again. Hungrily he helped her ride out her orgasm, and only once her body began to go limp and relaxed did he finally pull back away, quickly swiping the back of his finger over his bottom lip as he brought his gaze back up to her face.

Dazed and content, she smiled as she saw the look on his face, accomplished and satisfied. Unable to help it, she let out a little giggle.

“That was incredible, honey…”

Standing up properly, he leans in and gently cradles the back of her head, fingers gently weaving into her long hair as he leaned in and kissed her cheek, then the corner of her lips. “And it’s not over yet…”

She lets her body come forward, and he watches as she slides herself off the counter onto wobbly legs, her hands coming down to the hem of his boxer-briefs. Already she could see the large bulge that had formed, and knew that he had to be absolutely suffocating with keeping those on. Pulling at the hem, she brought his underwear out and down, freeing his cock and watching as precum instantly came to the tip. Her gentle fingers come down to wrap around him, giving him three long strokes as he closes his eyes and exhales, one hand coming to rest on her lower back and keep her close to him. After only a moment, his blue eyes opened and focused on hers again.

“I can’t wait for you anymore… no foreplay for me.” And she lets out the tiniest yelp of surprise and happiness when he places both hands on her ass, pulling her in for a hard kiss.

Bringing his lips to her ear, his hot breath brushes against her as his words are spoken: “I need to be inside of you. Now.”

Nothing else needs to be said to her with that. While she may have only just orgasmed, it meant nothing. She was ready to go again immediately, feeling as if something was entirely missing now that she’s horny and seeing that absolutely starving look in his eyes.

And while he had half expected her to hop onto the counter again… she decided to go with a position they don’t get to do as often, given that they both value seeing each other’s faces in their throes of passion. Sometimes it was nice to spice things up, and she’d been wanting to do this one for a while.

Leon watches as she takes off her shirt, and turns around. His eyes are completely glued to her as she keeps her feet firmly planted on the ground… and leans over the counter, her upper body now laying on it with her ass out to him, legs slightly spread. From this angle, while he couldn’t see her face… he could absolutely see everything else.

He does get to meet her gaze again however, as she turns to look back at him over her shoulder. And while she’d always been a sweet, very mature woman… she could get absolutely dirty. Keeping his eyes locked to hers, she gives him the dreamiest of smiles, paired with her pleading words:

“I want you to fuck me from behind, Leon. Please…”

As if any man would be able to say no to her like that. His stunning girlfriend, again spread wide for him.. But now he could admire the curve of her back, the way her legs looked as they gently stretched to keep herself planted on the floor, and the way her long, black hair fell over her shoulders and onto the counter where her arms were crossed beneath her head for cushioning.

Words are breathlessly spoken as he moves forward, both hands on her ass not only to keep her steady but to spread her just slightly further apart, lifting her ass and giving him every bit of access he needed for his hardened cock.

“As if I could ever say no to you.”

And with those assertive words, Leon lines himself up with her pussy, something he’d done so many times it was absolutely second nature to him. Moving forward, he lets out a low, quiet groan of pleasure as he feels himself slide inside of her, slowly filling her up until he reaches as deep as he can go. That familiar warmth and wetness, her body felt as if she was made for him… and of course, she felt as if his body was made for her, too. Gently she digs her nails into her arms, biting her lip as he simply rested inside of her for the moment, allowing her the time to get used to him being inside again, as if he hadn’t been in her just hours before.

It’s only once he sees her turn to look over her shoulder at him again, seeing those pretty blue eyes of hers begging without words for him to move, that he slides himself back out again. Leon keeps his hands on her hips now, holding her in place as he thrusts himself back in, unable to keep the moan from escaping his own mouth. While he may not be the loudest in bed, he was surely not shy with the moans and groans that do come out of him.

Picking up the pace, the sound of skin on skin melded with the moans of ecstasy released by them both as Leon continued to fill her to the brim, getting to a point where he refused to pull out of her more than halfway, choosing instead to keep a faster pace and slam into her over and over again. Soon she feels him rest more weight on her, one hand coming down to press onto her clit, causing a much louder gasp from her, a gasp that quickly changed to a shaky whimper of pleasure when he used three fingers at once to rub circles on her clit.

It isn’t long before she begs for more, for him to go faster…. Until he hears those words that always bring him over the edge.

“Leon, please… make me cum…!”

Leon nearly becomes blinded by his own rapture, groaning the word ‘fuck’ desperately under his breath as he holds her steady, holds her close.. Making sure that she never strays far from his thrusts as his dick drove her to the brink all over again, just like he did last night.

He felt it, it built up so fast every time he felt her walls constrict around him, squeezing his cock and driving him insane with the tightness she enveloped him with over and over again. There was nothing else he could do, no more holding himself back as he finally lets out a desperate groan and long exhale, only slightly muffled by her own cries of an orgasm taking over her body all over again, causing her to shake and shiver just as it had before when he ate her out.

Not only did she cum, but he came even harder. She felt it as he unloaded into her, hot and thick cum completely filling her from the inside and nearly making her eyes roll into the back of her head. Never did she let anyone cum inside of her before… only Leon has ever been allowed that privilege. And it was a privilege he never took for granted.

It took a solid few minutes for their orgasms to finally subside, the waves turning to an overwhelming feeling of warmth that remained evenly across their bodies, inside and out. Both bodies turned to jelly as Leon slowly slipped out of her, watching as his cock moved back and he could see his cum beginning to drip out of her. He had to admit, he came pretty hard for what was essentially an early morning quickie. That sleepy morning sex sure as hell woke them both up.

Slowly, she stood back up to face him, taking it easy as her back shifted and returned to a comfortable posture. Without fail, he came forward and hugged her, holding her up against his body so she didn’t have to worry about using strength that had been sapped from her after two back to back orgasms.

“Bet you’re starving now, huh? You were already hungry to begin with.” Leon says with a chuckle in his voice, leaning in to kiss her forehead after the words had been spoken.

An exhausted but contented laugh spills from her own lips as her head tilts, resting against his shoulder and allowing herself to simply be held and loved the way he always did after sex.

“Mhm… but that was all worth it. We earned ourselves a big breakfast and a hot bath together afterwards.”

The smiles remained on both of their lips, even more so as he leaned down to whisper right into her ear: “I love you.”

And as her arms snaked around his body, she hugged him showing how he truly was the most precious person in the world to her. Never would she let him think otherwise.

“I love you too, Leon.”

[qvid-pro-qvo]

a southern education

rafael barba x female!reader. a series of moments during cases leads barba to learn a common turn of phrase from you, a detective on the squad.

word count: 4559

rating: teen, for endless teasing and the kind of contempt only the south can offer (canon-typical mentions of rape and violence, but frankly a whole lot of fluff, too, as well as an additional warning for the author knowing nothing about how law work besides what law and order tells me). 

-

It was like a different world, when you and Rollins got to chatting.

It was the way your accents got thicker, the way your laughter seemed to echo. There was always an inside joke, always a tease before you got paired off with Fin and Rollins inevitably found Sonny once again, words dripping with something sugary sweet as the two of you parted ways. The others didn’t get it, what you two would get so riled up about, but with you and her, it was like two peas in a pod.

It was just the South in the two of you. And yes, the capital ‘S’ was justified.

The South. Muggy nights and wretched summers and air thick with humidity and the mosquitoes that didn’t even give you a chance. Cicadas yelling as soon as the sun set and sitting out on porches drinking your beer or tooth-achingly sweet tea. Tipping hats and holding doors open and taking your sweet time. It made New York feel that much smaller, just two Southern girls trying to make it.

There were the shitty parts, too. There were the parts that make you and Rollins come to New York in the first place – the realization that women would never make it like men do, the suffocation of trying to fit into a box not made for you. So New York was far from home, but for good reason, and sometimes all of the South you need was hearing Rollins say y’all just as much as you.

Like now, for instance.

The newest case was a weird one, for sure, but at the center of it all was a young boy in the crossfire. Caught between his adoptive parents and the criminal enterprises his biological father was involved with. The squad was waiting for some food, and you, Barba, Carisi, and Amanda were all sitting around the wooden table, using the chairs to move from section of evidence to section of evidence.

“Poor guy just wanted a good home,” you said, looking at one of the pictures of him. It was a sweet photo, and you sighed before pushing the folder away from you. You moved to stand from the table. “Bless his heart.”

It came out of you without thinking, your voice somber, solemn. Rollins just nodded, because she got the gist, but Carisi just turned to look at you like you just grew devil’s horns.

“What does that mean?”

You looked up from the picture and met Carisi’s eyes. His brows were furrowed, and there seemed to be something tense in his shoulders.

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking amongst them. Barba was raising his brow, but his gaze was fixated on his notepad, his pen in his fingers as he scribbled something. “It’s just a saying.”

“Well, because Amanda says it to me sometimes,” Carisi said, and there was a twist to his lips, one you wanted to chuckle at. He looked so… solemn. “And usually she’s being sarcastic. I just don’t think what they did to this little boy is funny, that’s all.”

You glanced back at Amanda, and the two of you shared a look, smiling in that way you shared. She was hiding it behind her hand, and you turned back to the two men, ready to placate.

“Neither do I.” When I was saying that, I meant… that’s really sad, for him, and… y’know. Poor thing. Poor guy.” You lifted your hands, pointing to the picture. “I wasn’t being sarcastic, this kid is… he’s in a shitty situation. It’s kind of a catch-all. It’s about the intention behind it.”

“It’s a Southern thing,” Amanda finished, shrugging a bit. “It just means what you want it to mean.”

That seemed to soothe Carisi’s troubled soul enough, and you smiled at him before lifting completely from your chair, moving to get some more coffee. You asked the table if they wanted anything, and the only response was Barba lifting with you, and the two of you walked towards the coffee maker.

You didn’t mind the lawyer. Sure, the ADA wasn’t always your thing – after all, working with him could feel like you just ran a marathon – but Barba was good at his job and treated you all well.

Plus, if you happened to know your favorite combination of suit, tie, and pocket square that he wore, that was between you and God.

“I could’ve just gotten you something if you wanted, Barba,” you told him. “I know you like your coffee, even the bad stuff here.”

His smile was small, but it felt real enough, and you gave him a returning one, trying to ignore the thrill you got from the way he looked at you.

“You always add too much sugar,” he admitted, and you just rolled your eyes, smirking.

“And you always add too little, so. Maybe one day we’ll meet in the middle.” His little chuckle was cute, and you leaned against the little bar, glancing out the breakroom to where Carisi and Rollins were. “Today I won’t touch it, how ‘bout that?”

“I appreciate it.” He too glanced over to the other room, and you watched as Amanda seemed to explain something to Sonny, her hands circling a little as Sonny just shook his head at her. “So, blessing your heart? A common thing?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you laughed, pouring a couple of cups and sliding one over to him to do as he wished. He just picked it up and sipped at it, the monster, but you added three sugars and stirred it plenty. “Trust me, sympathy isn’t always its message, but like I said. It can mean a little bit of everything.”

Barba just laughed again, shaking his head. “It seems innocuous enough. You’re telling me old women can weaponize blessing someone?”

That made your mouth twitch up, and you finished stirring your coffee with a flick of the plastic straw. With a little smile at him, you reached forward, turning him, getting close. You narrowed your eyes, pursing your lips a little. A once-over, eyes calculating, and he just stared, wide-eyed and brows creeping towards his hairline as you let out a little sound, putting all the condescension into it. And if your accent was a bit strong, well. You let it play.

“Oh, bless your heart. You just don’t understand. The South doesn’t pull punches.”

Your eyes didn’t break from his for a moment, and then you let out a little snort, shaking your head, moving past him. He seemed more than a little confused, and when you looked back he was just watching you, watching the way you walked toward the roundtable once more. You chuckled a little again, gesturing with your head towards Amanda and Carisi. 

“Oh, Northerners. Come on, Mr. Barba. No more blessing hearts today. I have a feeling this’ll be continuing education.”

-

You stood in Liv’s office a few weeks later, the two interrogation rooms on either side of you. In one, the victim, the other, the perp. A classic he-said, she-said, and you found yourself lingering on the perp’s side, watching as Carisi and Fin interrogated him. Their voices came through a little staticky, but you caught every word, your mouth twisting into disgust as you watched him spin a tale of woe.

“I did not do it,” he cried out, and his entire being reeked privilege. It was so easy to watch him pull every card out of the book, and watch the two detectives stand by, unimpressed. If he thought his charm and his smile would woo them, he was sorely mistaken.

“Look, you wanna know the truth, kid?” Carisi said, leaning back in his seat as Fin leaned against the window. Almost as if he knew you were standing by, watching. “We don’t give a rat’s ass who your father is, we don’t give a damn about your GPA. All we care about is what happened that night. So tell us what really happened now, and we won’t have to drag you out of your classes with our lights going.”

You huffed out a laugh at Carisi’s statement, which earned you a fellow lurker. Barba, there next to you. He normally didn’t get the cases this early, but with something like this he liked to hear everything from the beginning.

“Anything of value from him?” he asked, and you shook your head, turning to face him, one eye still on the interrogation.

“Nah, he’s just spinning his wheels. He thinks Daddy’s money can get him out of this bind, like every other one. Hasn’t caught the memo that we’re not that easy.”

Barba smirked, shaking his head. He turned to you, and his gaze lingered on your face, making you straighten a bit as he glanced back to the glass. “We certainly aren’t, detective. You’ll let me know the details later?”

Your brow raised. “Yeah, I can come by, if this isn’t something you’re gonna pass off to Callier. Course, I can fill her in, too.” It’d become an unofficial part of your job description, relaying the updates of the investigations to the D.A.s office when needed, trading off with Carisi. Mainly because the two of you liked going to see the counselor the most, for… different reasons.

Barba’s nod was short, and then he started migrating to the other side, where Liv and Rollins were in talking with the girl.

Suddenly, the whiny voice of the perp caught your attention.

“You can’t do this! My father won’t stand for it, do you hear me?”

Your nose wrinkled, and your little scoff was sharp enough to make Barba turn back, stop in his tracks. “Oh, bless his heart. He just doesn’t get it, does he?”

There was a warm chuckle from the other side of the room that made it your turn to look over, and you watched as Rafael Barba ducked his head, a hand lifting to cover his mouth as he did his best to look innocent.

“What’s so funny, Barba?”

When he glanced your way, the hand on his mouth lifted in surrender, the other sliding into his pocket. “Nothing. I just… think this is part of that continuing education you were talking about, detective.”

Your previous conversation came back to you, all of a sudden, and you watched as he chuckled again and pushed towards the interview room to watch Amanda and Liv.

“Trust me, you haven’t heard the last of it, yet,” you told him, and when he glanced over his shoulder he was smirking.

“I hope not.”

It was your eyes on him now, and you found yourself grinning and ducking your head before it became full-on staring, a warm feeling on your cheeks as Carisi and Fin came back into Liv’s office. You found yourself chuckling to yourself for the rest of the day, thinking about the way he looked while he smiled, at the way he laughed.

You wouldn’t mind seeing that smile more often, you decided.

Wouldn’t mind one bit.

-

The SVU squad room didn’t always leave you with smiles, of course. It was a lot of heartbreak, a lot of pain that circulated through interrogation rooms and interview sessions. A lot of sorrow, sitting in courtrooms and watching strong, powerful victims testify against their assailants.

A lot of pain. But… friends were a bright spot.

And slowly, Barba was becoming that, too.

Your role as the inbetweener was essentially official. More often than not you were accompanying Liv to One Hogan Place, the two of you in his office and trying to talk him into something (and him usually trying to talk the two of you out). A lot of times, you went on your own, making it just you and him standing on either side of his desk, discussing what could and could not be done in the eyes of the law.

It was still work, at that point, too. Because you could give him the details without skipping the important facts, could give it to him straight without hemming and hawing. You could defend your fellow detectives without taking it personally, knowing when wrongs were wrong and when to push.

And if those conversations started stretching longer, and if you found yourself lingering in his offices more and more, well. Amanda had permission to tease you about it in private.

But only in private.

In public, she could only send sly looks, looks you stubbornly avoided by meeting others’ gazes or looking down at your laptop.

Like in that moment, when Barba’s gaze met yours in his office, and the little nod he offered seemed enough to make your heart pound. A glance at Amanda, with her laugh behind her hand and head shaking, told you all you needed to know about how gone you were.

“Detective?”

Your gaze shot back to Rafael. This time his gaze wasn’t one of equals, but one of concern, his head tilted almost a little. And in that moment, you realized that he was asking you a question, that he had been nodding at you to answer…

“Sorry, sorry,” you scrambled, blinking a few times, trying to ignore the way Amanda kicked you under the small round table. “What was the question?”

“You’re the one who visited Miss Stevens last,” he said, pushing from his desk to stand up tall, walk towards you and your friend. “What’s your take?”

The interaction with your witness came back to you, and you grimaced a little at the thought of her taking the stand.

“Bless her heart,” you said, on instinct, shaking your head as you thought about her answers to the simple questions you asked her.

“That bad, huh?” the blonde said with a wince, and you nodded, sighing.

“Unfortunately.”

“What?” Barba’s brow raised with his question, and you realized that while Amanda got the gist, you were leaving the counselor in the dust for once.

Well. How to explain… politely…

You bit your lower lip a moment before speaking. “Miss Stevens is very… kind,” you offered, shrugging, “but her attention span is not the… greatest. A little… naïve, is the word I’d use, I guess.”

After a moment, Barba looked to Amanda, who just smiled sweetly. “I think what Y/N is implying is that, after talking with her, she realized that… uh.”

Nothing from Barba, who just looked between the two of you.

“Is what?”

It wasn’t worth the games anymore, even though the confusion on Barba’s face was hilarious. You turned to nod at Amanda, before leaning back in your chair, sighing.

“She’s, frankly, as dumb as a doornail.” When Southern politeness didn’t work, the next step was brutal honesty. “Which shouldn’t matter, but you put her up there –”

“And any defense attorney worth their salt would have her saying whatever they wanted her to,” Amanda finished. You reached over to pat her hand in thanks, and she just grinned at you, the two of you turning to the lawyer simultaneously. He didn’t answer immediately, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of you. 

“If you prep her really well,” you offered to him, “there’s a chance. But it has to be… really well.” You and your fellow detective stood, and as she moved to the door you just shrugged at the attorney.

“And you have doubt in my abilities to prep well?” Barba shot back, and you grinned at him. For the moment, Amanda was gone, just you and him and some verbal flirting to finish off the day.

You lingered in the doorway, and ignored the sound of Amanda’s foot tapping on the carpet. “I have doubt in her abilities to listen well.”

He just chuckled, shaking his head and letting out a breath. Whatever it took to finish a case. “All right. Well. I’ll figure it out. Thank you, for the extra lesson today. Three ways to use a phrase is… more than I was expecting.”

You chuckled, shaking your head at him, before an idea sprung to mind that made you pause before you turned out of the room.  

“Want me to call her in tomorrow? Bring her down to the precinct?” When he seemed to hestitate, you pushed a little. “She might be more comfortable with me there, and she’s already been to the precinct in one of our interview rooms. Might be best to introduce you at someplace she’s… familiar?”

Maybe you were hallucinating, but Amanda might as well have been on Mars. Because the smile Barba gave? It had to be all for you.

The case ended up finishing strong. Or, almost finishing. The tail end of the case found the two of you jogging out of the courthouse into a rush of cool fall winds, your noses going numb at the feeling as the sun started to set over the skyline.

“She did well,” you praised, hunching your shoulders against the cold. “Should never have doubted you.”

“Couldn’t have done it without New York’s finest,” he admitted, and when you glanced at him the only way to describe it was… mirth.

“Damn straight, counselor.”

Your steps were in time. No other detectives, no other lawyers, just the two of you making your way down to the street and relishing in the feeling of a well-fought battle.

“All that’s left is the jury,” you hummed. “Waiting’s always the hardest part.” 

“We could go grab a drink,” he offered with a little shrug. “Kill some of that time?” 

It was sudden, out of the blue. A moment that you were sure you imagined. “What?” you asked, turning to face him. You expected him to be staring out to the street, or up at the sky, but he was just staring at you, smirk ever-present and adding some sweet seduction to the offer.

“A drink. You, and me.”  

You tried to ignore that butterflies that suddenly took roost in your stomach, and the way your hand hastily went to your hair to make sure the wind wasn’t messing with it too much. “The case isn’t over yet, Barba. Are you sure you want to risk it?”

After a glance around the front steps, he stepped closer to you, smiling. He was wearing that bronze-colored wool coat, and you resisted the urge to reach a hand out, brush off imaginary lint. When he smiled, it was like his eyes lit up, the browns in the coat making the greens shine bright. 

“Then after the case,” he amended. “Once it’s over. Nothing to risk.”

He was serious. He wanted a drink. With you. You had to blink a few times, ducking your gaze to laugh. Amanda would get a kick out of this. Would probably also say that she told you so. “Hope you didn’t just push our luck saying that out loud,” you teased, but his smile didn’t waver when you met his eyes once more. 

“I mean it.”

It was that moment, you supposed. That moment when you looked at him and realized the counselor was looking at you the same way you knew you looked at him.

He was looking at you, and he was smiling, and you couldn’t get enough.

When you nodded, it was short, a little shy, your head ducking again as you pulled your own coat tighter around yourself, your hand tucking your scarf in to keep out the chill.

“Yeah, counselor,” you said. “I’d like that a lot, actually.” 

Then, because you couldn’t help it, you reached forward anyway, let your hand brush something off of his shoulder, flattened out the collar and let your fingers catch on the material. Smiled, as you looked at him.

“It’s a date.” 

-

You loved watching your boyfriend in his element. Because before almost anything else, Rafael Barba was a lawyer. And a damn good one.

The victims, plural, shared some vicious horror stories when they came into the squad room, some stories that they were brave enough to repeat on the stand. Rafael walked them through it, led them to places where they could share all of the details, and prepped them well for the defense’s return volley.

And considering that it was Buchanan, the victory was all the sweeter, especially since the perp was a scumbag who hadn’t wiped the smug look off of his face the whole trial.

Until today, of course. Rafael did his job, and you got the joy of catching his wink as he moved back to his seat, the perp’s words fumbling in his throat as Rafael trapped him in one lie after another. It was like music to your ears, and the sight of Buchanan putting his head in one had was visually just as sweet. 

“It isn’t over yet,” Rafael told you, meeting you at the doors once the jurors filed away, but you just shook your head.

“Not like you to be humble,” you laughed. “Come on, handsome. You know it was a good day.”

You relished in the way his eyes scanned you, the sight of the smirk on his face, the relaxed set of his shoulders.

“Let’s not jinx it. Just. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

You just chuckled, offered a brush of your shoulders to tide the two of you over, and together you started moving out of the courtroom. Only to be stopped by Buchanan, of course, whose voice made your spine stiffen.

“Just a moment, counselor.”

The two of you turned in sync, Buchanan meeting up with you right outside before the hallway. As the three of you stepped out of court, the tension you always felt between the two lawyers seemed heightened. Buchanan’s usual relaxed attitude was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow hestitation as he stepped towards the representative of the people.

“Well, that was quick,” Rafael sighed, and you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“I want to discuss your offer. Rape Three, on both counts.” 

Rafael’s scoff was sharp.

“After what happened in that courtroom, I think we both know the deal has changed,” Barba shot back, raising a brow at the man in front of him. You couldn’t help the smirk on your face, glancing down to your shoes as Rafael talked to him. “Both counts of Rape Two, served consecutively, and I’ll consider only adding sexual misconduct for the Queens cases if he pleads guilty.”

“You call that a deal?” Buchanan scoffed, and your man just shrugged. “That’s barely a discount.”

Rafael didn’t back down, though, glancing towards the empty pews. “It’s better than two counts of Rape One, which we both know that jury is going to heavily consider. You had your chance for a better deal. It’s my final offer.”

The aghast look on Buchanan’s face was priceless. “Kicking me while I’m down,” Buchanan sneered, and you glanced up in time to see him direct his words at you. “Can you believe this guy? Punishing me for having an off day once in a while.”

It made your skin crawl. You hated the way he looked at you, and you found yourself lifting your chin to meet his gaze head-on.

“Well, bless your heart, Mr. Buchanan,” you told him, oozing fake saccharine from every pore. “Lord knows we all have bad days.” Your smile was tight, and he had the gall to return it.

“Look at that, Barba,” Buchanan said, nodding at you like your words actually meant something. “I think you should take a lesson from the detective here. No one likes a sore winner. Show a little courtesy, for me and my client.”

“My offer is final. Take it or leave it.”

Buchanan’s smile was tight, and he shook his head at the A.D.A. before turning away. “We’ll discuss it later today.”

“Is that a yes?” Barba called after him, and Buchanan visibly sighed, dropping his chin.

“I need to confer with my client,” he called back, and he turned a corner, vanishing in the maze that was the courthouse.

You shivered as he turned the corner, hating that you even thought about smiling at him.

“Suddenly decide to play nice with defense attorneys, cariño?” Rafael asked, his tone light as he watched all of your hatred finally show. You could tell he was teasing, that he knew the taste of your tone as well as any other.

“That, darlin’, was a good ol’ Southern fuck you,” you ground out, and Rafael’s hand lifted to rest on your back, turning you towards the elevator. You glanced toward him, as the two of you walked, and there was something like admiration on his face, a little smile that nowadays made you warm because you knew it was all for you.

“I don’t think anyone else gets you this riled up,” he teased lightly, and your eyes rolled even as your chin lifted. The doors opened, and the two of you were the only ones who got on. “And believe it or not, I could tell just what sentiment you were trying to get across.” When the elevator door closed his hands went to your shoulders, squeezing a little, fingers rubbing into the junction at your neck to work the muscle there.

“But I don’t think Buchanan did,” you laughed, the tension Buchanan always put in your shoulders leaking away as he continued to touch you, pulling you close for a kiss on your cheek before the doors slid open again.

“Eres una bendición,” he whispered to you, walking behind you as the two of you got off, and you turned to smile at him, raising a brow when he used a word you didn’t recognize. He just shook his head, threw a wink your way. “Meet me at my office?”

You chuckled a little, waving your hand, already missing the feeling of his fingers on your skin. “After work, of course.”

“Of course, counselor.”

-

(The sign of a good education was always that the student could put the lessons into practice. And Rafael was nothing but a good student. So in the end, it was meant to happen, and you were just lucky enough to witness it.

A night late night in his office, different paperwork wars being waged. An occasional tease from his desk thrown to your position on his couch, where you had set up shop.

Eventually though, the night wound down as it always did. The two of you sharing the couch, shoes off and feet tangled in the middle as he scribbled where he needed you, and your fingers typed away on your laptop.

The exhaustion was starting to get to you both though, and after your eyes crossed and blurred for the third time, you had to click save and close your laptop.

“I think I’m tapping out,” you groaned, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “Any longer and I’ll go blind from the blue light.”

“Not even midnight, cariño. Don’t tell me you’re giving up now,” Rafael teased, and you kicked his calf at the comment, eyes closing as you settled in, feeling the warmth of him on your legs.

“Unlike someone, I was sitting in a car to watch an apartment at dawn, so I think I have a good excuse.”

“Well, bless your heart,” he returned with a little verve, and your eyes shot open. Widened, as you sat up to stare.

It didn’t sound right in his mouth. His own New Yorker tone, his quick lawyer beat, it made it feel all jumbled up. Not enough oomph to really get the point across. But even as painfully wrong as it was, he said it, and that was what made your mouth stretch into a grin, made you scoot a little closer to him as he flipped through his own file, your laptop set (perhaps a little precariously) on the arm.

“What did you just say, counselor?”

It hit him the moment after you asked. Confusion washing over his features, and then realization, followed by something that looked a little like astonishment.

Maybe horror, but you didn’t hold that against him.

“Rafael,” you laughed. “I think your lessons in the South have ended, and I am the best teacher.”)

[alafthesimp]

Im scared of Happiness and he Terrifies me

“Happy birthday Chuuya”

The shorter male turned around to find the brunet wearing his usual trench coat standing a few meters away from where he sat.

"How did you know i was here?"

"I just followed my heart and look it brought me to the right place. You're funny chuuya, you make it sound like its hard for me to find you." he teased. Chuuya hates hearing that voice. Specially when he makes his sweet lies sound sincere.

"Oi mackerel quit foolin! The ADA wont be pleased if they find out their honorary member is meeting up with a PM executive behind their backs. Go back, dont ruin my mood."

"Im not here as an ADA member Chuuya." His calm breathy voice. All toxic to Chuuya's ears.

"And why would they mind when im just here to meet my old partner and a friend? I dont think they will."

Calling out his name as if they're still the same. As if its still like their old days, where they can still muck around the PM headquarters, the slum alleys,the countless hideouts, simply when the entire Yakohama city was their playground. After Dazai disappeared that night Chuuya's hatred towards him only grew bitter. Was it the betrayal to their committed organization or was it something else? He himself is not sure about it.

"Well Im still a mafia. We were partners back in the time when you were in the PM. Now that you've left there's no reason for us to..........Listen Dazai You decided to move on from your past so its better if you leave the old memories behind. Forget that you know me, forget that we had anything to do with each other." Realization was quick to kick in Chuuya. He spoke way too much than he should've. That scammer must have planned something. He cant let Dazai play him like that.

"Tch why am i telling you all this. Just leave already."

"You're exceptionally in a good mood today. I thought I'd be beaten up to death the moment I show up here."

"Im close to doing that."

"Awh Chuuya how nice of you to warn me like that! But i dont mind taking a few hits from you today. Since its your birthday!"

Chuuya's world halted for a moment. "He remembers?"

"SHUT TF UP!" Chuuya threw a punch but it never landed on Dazai's skin. Dazai successfully doged the punch. He was swift to grab his wrist and locked it behind his back.

"You're slow today chibi. Having mercy on me?"

Chuuya glared at him, his blue eyes shining under the setting sun. If exposed to a poet imagine all the beautiful wordplay it would trigger in their heart. The eyes of someone who's deadly but yet so human. His Chuuya never fails to surprise him with a new side his personality.

"Your eyes are still the same. But why do I see fear in your eyes? Is Terror himself terrified of Something?"

"STOP WITH THAT NONSENSE DAZAI!" With another push Chuuya freed himself from the other's grip. He should have left earlier rather than waiting for bandaged guy to leave him alone. The longer the conversation will last between them the more exposed he will ne infront of his former partner. Who manages to read him like an open book. The one he wrote himself. Least of what he wants right now.

"I thought we could have a civil conversation for once but no you're annoying as ever."

"THATS MY LINE GOD DAMNIT!"

"uh æ æ. You could've just accepted my birthday greeting for you. That way things wouldn't have elastated so far."

"Dont make me regret things."

"You regret so many things,Chuuya. Your face says that you do."

"THEN STOP FREAKING LOOKING AT IT YOU BASTARD!" this time his punch landed perfectly on the taller's cheek. Slightly bruising it red.

"Ouch that hurt."

"AS IT SHOULD! Dont analyze things the way you want, Dazai. Your tricks wont work on me."

"But they have, Always. You cant deny that on my face."

"FINE IM LEAVING! I wasted both my time and energy here arguing with you."

"Chuuya, I came here just to wish you and I didn't plan on arguing. Its more likely to be you,who held me back by picking up a fight." He sang out.

His words had Chuuya thinking. Did he unintentionally try to make Dazai stay by his side and is that why he provoked him? And regret? He regrets nothing? What was he implying to?What Dazai said could be deciphered in many ways, meanings and all of them would make sense somehow.

Chuuya wants to cry out of frustration. Thats how he always feels everytime he's around Dazai. Pushed to the edge of his emotions, anger, annoyance, frustration, hatred all combined drives him insane. He absolutely hates that, his own emotions make him feel helpless. A strong person like him can be played so easily by this certain someone who outsmarts him everytime.

"Silence speaks louder than words." Dazai smirked in between his words. He walked to the clif and sat down looking at the sun slowly setting down in the red sky.

"And stop resisting Chuuya. Your small brain cant process all the things you're probably thinking right now. Dont put pressure on it."

"Stop talking."

"What? We meet after so many days and you shut me up like that. Such a mean thing to do to be honest. Now that you've calmed down a bit can i ask you something?"

"If i deny will it stop you?"

"No."

"Then just do it dammit." Chuuya has a bad feeling about this but if he reacts the situation is most likely to get worse.

"Okay okay. So The Nakahara Chuuya I've known for all these years, the only thing he fears is...... being close to happiness. Which is valid. Cause he has enough experiences and reasons to feel that way. But now out of all times why do I sense that same fear your eyes again? Specially now...."

Chuuya can never answer that question. No way he's going to tell him he's scared of being happy cause he cant predict what waits for him after that. Happiness comes at a great cost, this is something he had learned. In the most brutal ways if one's being truthful. Everytime he had felt happiness or anything remotely close to that, soon it was snatched away from him. His friends, his brother, Sheep and Dazai.......He can look death right in its eyes but happiness actually terrifies him.

He clutched his gloved hands. Stood up but right when he was about to walk away he felt a strong grip on his wrist again.

"You can stay here. I'll leave you alone by yourself to collect your thoughts. Enjoy your time here. Dont get into fights and return back home safely!"

"Its none of your business."

"Ive saved your life multiple times so ofcourse your life, its my business!"

"That makes no sense."

"Whatever you say, Chuuya. You're alive so far because of me and me...why i am alive inspite of wanting to die so bad is...... You'll find it out in the future someday. For now I'll take my leave, I've got my answer anyways. Jja~ Goodbye."

"What? DAZAI-"

"Nee Chuuya I've indeed moved on from my past but even after choosing separate paths you cant simply get rid of me!” And he left saying that. Chuuya watched him walk away. At the end he still sounded like a brat teasing him but what Dazai said filled him similar feelings from the past and again he was scared. He raised his hand to fix his hat only for his finger to brush against something soft. Which felt like a flower petal.

He took the hat off and found a red Tsubaki(Red camellias) delicately tugged inside his Fedora ribbon. 

“When did he put it here?” Chuuya searched for Dazai but he was nowhere in his sight.

“Dazai you sly bastard!” he cursed under his breath holding the flower close to his chest.

THE END

This is my first time writing something for skk. And im really happy that its on Chuuya’s birthday. I saw this post and it inspired me to turn it into a one shot. I wrote this in a couple hours which is very unlikely to be me. its not very well detailed but i like it this way. ill leave the surroundings to your imaginations, but for me its just a simple high place in the yakohama city, from where they can see the sun set. Feel free to share your opinions on this with me.

Link to the original post that inspired this : https://zekrommoo7.tumblr.com/post/649815270177882112/dazai-happy-birthday-chuuya-chuuya-get

And again HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYA 

[australiancarisi]

Rafael Barba ~ Just Some...

Sometimes Rafael gets insecure and when he does he speaks his mind words: 2178 This has literally been sitting in my drafts half-finished since march oops

“Why hello Mr ADA to what do I owe the pleasure so bright and early?” You smiled up at Rafael from your desk. It had just gone 10, rarely did Rafael come to the precinct before noon. It had been a few days since you had seen Rafael, he had been in court and the squad had recently had an influx of cases. You looked your boyfriend up and down, god he looked good today. He always looks good but today.... extra good.

“Looking for Liv” Rafael mumbled before looking around at the empty precinct “where is everyone?”

“Fin and Nick have gone to the victim's old high school, Dodds and Carisi are getting all the doctor's examination details and Liv and Rollins... I think talking to the vic’s family but I’m not too sure” you shrugged

“Why are you here then?” he asked. You frowned for a second taking your boyfriend in. He was acting strange. The normally cocky Cuban, who, when given an empty precinct, would normally jump at the chance to flirt and kiss you at work, just stood against Carisi’s desk with his hands in his pockets looking anything but cocky.

“Paperwork” you said holding up the files “I’m too far behind apparently” you rolled your eyes “you okay?”

“Yeah fine” Rafael shrugged “get Liv to call me when she in”

“Will do” you frowned as Rafael turned on his heels and walked away. In the nearly 3 years that you had been dating Rafael that was not how he acted with you, not even in the first year of you guys dating when you were still hiding it from everyone.

You and Rafael started dating just under a year after you joined SVU. You came from major crimes after SVU had a high profile case that you had helped them on. They were understaffed at the time so Liv asked your lieutenant if you could help out more. After a month of working with SVU, you knew it was where you belong. You fit in well with the team despite being a relatively young detective, you liked that you were able to help people and make a difference. It felt like you belonged there. Everything was great, except for one thing. You and Rafael did not get along. He saw things clearly in black and white whereas you saw grey. You bent the rules, so much so that they would nearly snap in half Rafael would say, and he didn’t like that. The two of you would fight and argue like cats and dogs. It wasn’t until you were put on his detail after he revealed that he was getting death threats did the two of you start to feel sparks.

You and Sonny were given the night shift after Rafael gave a guy his home address on the steps of the courthouse that day.

“I mean seriously who does that?” You grumbled as you heard Rafael get in the shower “I don’t want to be here!”

“Suck it up doll face” Sonny grinned at you

“I had leftover Thai food in my fridge! I’ve been looking forward to it all day!” You huffed like a child “if he wants to be stupid enough to give out his address that’s on him”

“Come on y/n we can’t just let him get murdered. Who else would put up with your crazy ideas?” Sonny laughed taking a seat on the couch.

“Put up with? Your kidding right? He shuts down all my ideas”

“That’s because they are usually nearly illegal”

“Exactly nearly illegal not actually illegal” Sonny was about to reply when his phone rang. You got comfy on the couch as he walked away to answer.

“I’ve gotta go” Sonny said grabbing the suit jacket that he had hung over the back of one of the chairs when he had walked in.

“Everything okay?” You frowned

“It’s Bella. She fell down some stairs and hit her heard. Knocked herself out” Sonny said

“Oh my god, Sonny go” you said basically pushing him out the door

“Are you going to be okay on your own?” Sonny asked

“We’ll be fine and at the first sign of trouble I'll call for back up I promise”

“Okay... I’ll let you know what happens” Sonny said before racing out the door. When the door closed behind him you took a moment to look around the apartment. It was just how you expected it to look. Not that you ever pictured Rafael’s apartment... it was relatively big for a New York apartment, open and airy with dark wood floors and bookcase upon bookcases. You moved around the apartment to have a closer look at things. The place really looked like a display home. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. There wasn’t any real sign of living besides the files Rafael had out of the table when he walked in and the single photo of him and who you assumed were his mother and grandmother. They all had the same eyes. You kept looking around Rafael’s apartment. You pulled out a law book and started flicking through it.

“I’m pretty sure being a part of my protective detail isn’t to look through my stuff” you jumped at Rafael’s voice.

You spent the night at Barba’s, despite the constant complaining from him. It took the squad about a week to find and arrest the people threatening Barba. Catching them, however, didn’t stop you from telling Barba what an idiot he was in the first place. The two of you bickered back and forth for months until it built up and burst when Barba cupped your face and kissed you late one night in his office while you were arguing about a case. That kiss led to taking him back to your place.

After a couple months of fooling around together, the two of you decided to actually pursue a relationship. It was actually after Rafael got jealous after a case. He and the squad went out to a bar to celebrate. You’re young, the youngest on the squad and there were a lot of people throwing themselves at you. Rafael was not happy with that. You disclosed 2 months after officially getting together after Nick accidentally walked in on the two of you in Rafael’s office.

Over a couple of hours, everyone had made their way back to the precinct. You’d finally caught up on enough paperwork to be able to get in on the current case. You tired texting Rafael throughout the day but got no response. Which was weird. Rafael always responded to your messages no matter who he was with unless he was in court but you knew he wasn’t. The squad were sitting around throwing out theories and evidence on the case, which unfortunately wasn’t much at all.

“So basically what you are saying is we have nothing” Fin sighed “We need a warrant to search the teacher's house”

“Barba is not going to get us a warrant based on this” Sonny said pointing to the whiteboard

“Not us but maybe....” Amanda trailed off as she turned her attention to you

“Normally I would agree but not today” you frowned at your phone, still no response

“What have you done this time?” Mike smirked as you grabbed a nearby piece of paper and threw it at him

“Nothing! He was here earlier looking for Liv. Did you talk to him?” You asked

“He wanted to go over some motions the defence in the Merlot case were filing” Liv said

“Did he seem normal to you?”

“As normal as Barba can be” Nick laughed earning high fives from Amanda and Mike, two which you threw paper at them as well. Liv shrugged and the conversation went back to the case at hand.

After another couple of hours and you finally had enough evidence to get a warrant. Mike threw the file down on your table. 

“Why me?” You asked 

“Just to make sure we actually get the warrant, get the warrant and then you can clock off for the day” Mike smirked “No funny business while you’re still on the clock” 

“Seriously how are you a Sargent?” You rolled your eyes before picking up your phone “Hey Carmen... Need to come down and talk him into getting us a warrant just wanna check he’s free...huh...no he didn’t...okay thanks” 

“Everything good?” Sonny asked 

“Yeah all good” you smiled packing up your stuff and picking up the file “I’ll let you guys know if I can convince him to try and get us the warrant” 

You left the precinct and headed straight to Rafael’s place. The two of you spent most nights at either his place or yours, more often his because it was closer to both the courthouse and the precinct then yours and the fact that Rafael usually worked later than you. You’d have to go and pull him out of his office. 

But not tonight. 

Carmen informed you that Rafael had left the office an hour before you called. This wasn’t like Rafael. Leaving work early... Not responding to messages... something was up. 

You quietly opened the door to Rafael’s apartment using the spare key Rafael had given you. Rafael was sitting in his armchair, scotch in hand. The apartment was eerily quiet. 

“Hey Raf” You said breaking the silence. He didn’t respond, didn’t even look at you. “Hey... Rafi... are you okay?” 

“Of course why wouldn’t I be?” Rafael asked taking a sip of his drink, still never looking at you. You sighed and threw your stuff down. 

“Rafael, what is going on?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I haven’t seen you outside of the courthouse or precinct in days and you are giving me nothing” you said “So I repeat what is going on?” 

“I saw you the other day on the steps of the courthouse” Rafael said after a moment of silence. You frowned trying to think back. “with that beat cop” 

“... Officer Jackson? the rookie? the new guy at our precinct?” You asked

“Your precinct” he corrected “and yes... you looked... cosy” 

“... Rafael... are you jealous? Seriously? of some kid?” You asked. Rafael had a jealous streak, it was the reason you got together because he couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. He was overprotective as well. He hated having to watch you go on stings and into interrogations with violent men or having to watch you flirt with them. 

“You say some kid as if you weren’t in his shoes not too long ago” Rafael mumbled. It was something that was joked about a bit between you and the squad, the fact that there was a bit of an age gap between you and Rafael. It never bothered you and Rafael though. 

“Rafi... really?” You asked him,. He just shrugged and took another sip of scotch. “So you saw me with another cop and now you’re being a moody teenager?” 

“He’s young, a cop. You were laughing...smiling...” Rafael sighed “I just don’t get it... Out of everyone you picked me and that surprises me cause I was alway last inline” 

“Not my line” you smiled

“That’s why I’m overprotective of you” Rafael said finally looking you in the eye placing the scotch on the coffee table next to him. “I have something... someone that I don’t deserve and I don’t want to lose it” 

“Rafi” you whispered. You slowly moved closer to him hoping that he would let you in. When he didn’t object you sat in his lap. You wrapped an arm around him, running your fingers through the back of his hair. 

“Sometimes it still hits me...” Rafael whispered “Like why me? Why does she want to spend the rest of her with me?” 

“Rafi, why wouldn’t I? You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy. A soul mate, a best friend. You are everything to me Rafi” You said “I love you Rafi, you and only you” 

“You deserve so much more than me”

“Why? Why do you think that?” 

“Because I’m just some fat Cuban kid from the Bronx. Who had a crappy dad, who couldn’t look after himself I always had to have Eddie or Alex fix my problems” 

“Just some... Rafael, you are a lawyer, not just any lawyer but a Harvard educated lawyer. You are a respected New York City ADA... You might not see how amazing you are but I do” 

“You deserve-” 

“I get to decide what I deserve” You cut him off “and I deserve you. I love you. I love you more than anything and no young rookie is gonna ever take me from you” 

“Thank you” Rafael sighed. You leant down and kissed him 

“Now a hot defence lawyer well....” you smirked at him causing him to laugh 

“I love you” Rafael kissed your hand that wasn’t in his hair. 

“Don’t forget it” you grinned at him “Now the actual reason I’m here we need a warrant for.......”

[holdin-out-for-a-hero]

Rookie (Leon Kennedy X Reader) Chapter 10/?

Words: 2631

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry it took so long! I had the draft written for over a month before I got around to editing it

You looked down at the Licker's body before you; Its blood and tissue stained your clothes and the floor below. Disgusting. Although the sight before you was truly revolting, you took an audible sign of relief. They're better dead and gross then alive and slightly less gross. Killing the lickers wasn't easy, it required a lot of planning and a rather dramatic gesturing argument with Leon. Your plan was to call them over, and take one out each. Leon wasn't too happy to see those things again, but without a plan of his own, he gave in.

"You're a good shot." He said, still breathless from the adrenaline rush.

"I know," A small smile formed on your lips

"Like a REALLY good shot." he exclaimed "You killed that thing mid-air!"

"My father taught me," the smile on your lips fell away. You missed your dad. And everyone else, too. But this was not the time, you thought.

Leon stepped over both of the carcasses and then waited for you. You took a large step over the first carcass, but then your foot slipped in the pool of blood. Leon tried to catch you, but failed. Instead of falling onto the tile floor, though, you fell face first onto the second licker's corpse. A fate truly worse than death.

"Are you ok?" Leon asked, helping you up. Feeling the blood and goop on your face, you immediately felt like throwing up and crying. Leon wiped away the gore with his gloved hand as you tried hard to swallow what was coming up your throat.

"Do me a favor and shoot me," You said. He chuckled. "I'm not kidding."

"After we get that sample" he held your wrist and the two of you started walking down the hall. Those words stung, though you realize they shouldn’t have. Leon just couldn’t stop thinking about Ada, could he?

"She's really got a hold you, huh?" You remarked under your breath. Leon turned to you.

"This is for the government. This is so raccoon city never happens again. You know it’s the truth.” His words echoed though the hall, they stung as well.

"Never mind, forget I said it."

The two of you walked in an uncomfortable silence, around a corner, and down another hall.

"Would you feel better if I let you kiss me too?" Leon spoke up, that devious grin on his lips.

"No!"

You eventually found the nap room. And yes, it was a literal nap room. The right side of the room had a few pods built into the walls for sleeping. Most of them were open, except for one. A decaying hand dangled out of the only closed pod, dripping blood onto the floor. Was this the person who never checked out of the nap room, Wayne Li?

Leon slowly opened the pod because he too was curious (and he was running low on bullets and really hoped this person had a few with them). The body slumped out of the pod, falling face first on the floor and making a sickening splat sound. You couldn't look at it, not after the noise it just made, so you looked into the pod instead. There, you found a journal. Flipping through a few pages, you confirmed your suspicions. This was Wayne Li, and apparently he had a god complex. Man, scientists are really big headed, you thought. Was it wrong to insult the dead like that? Probably.

"Yes!" Leon whispered.

You looked over. He pried a gun from the dead man's hand and a package of bullets from the lab coat pocket. You noted how wrong this looked, two people stealing loot from dead bodies. And two cops, no less. It's funny how a zombie apocalypse can completely change your values. Then you noticed the blue flashing chip on his wristband. A security chip, high clearance, no doubt. So you took that too.

The two of you continued through the lab, entering a large, central area. It had a bridge that led to an elevator and a platform that you assumed would activate the bridges to the other parts of the lab. You looked down below the bridge, darkness shrouded the bottom, if there even was one. A fall from there would definitely be deadly, you though. But now is not the time for your fear of heights.

"Ada said it's in the west area," Leon said, you looked up at him. “You’re holding onto that rail pretty tight.” That was when you noticed your white knuckles.

Leon held his hand out to you and his eyes met yours. Slowly, you uncurled your fingers from the rail and grabbed his hand. He smiled at you, leading you across the bridge and to the platform. He needs to stop being so nice and cute all the time, you thought, because you could tell you were falling for him fast.

Leon scanned Ada’s wristband against the sensor, but unfortunately the security level wasn't high enough for the West area. He scanned it against the other sensor, and it unlocked the East area. Hopefully you'd find a higher clearance chip somewhere in the East area.

The two of you walked to the very back of the lab and scanned your wristband against the door's sensor. You were not prepared for what was inside. As the double doors slid away, all you could see was green. Though most of the foliage was behind a glass, it looked as though it was pouring out of any crack it could find, leaving stray vines hanging from the ceiling and coming up through the floor. Then you saw it, how could you have missed it? Right in the middle of the room, a man in a hazmat suit was pressed up against the cracked glass by whatever plant was overtaking the lab. A purple light flashed from the man's wrist. Your heart sunk. As much as you didn't want to retrieve the wristband from that death trap, there was no other chip: you had already checked the rest of the lab.

You looked over to Leon, and he to you.

"Well, you know what that means," he chuckled nervously. You groaned.

"Could this night get any worse?" You asked. Yes, it could. And it would.

You and Leon fought your way into the chamber with a can of gasoline and a lighter you found. Then you realized you couldn't reach the guy with the wristband, so you fooled around with some of the lab stuff and accidentally sprayed pesticides into the entire chamber. Luckily that solved your problem, and the corpse fell to the floor of the chamber. All the while, you were collecting emails and records from the computers around the lab. And now, with the wristband and a newfound fear of bushes, you headed towards the west area.

You held your wristband up to the door, and it buzzed open. This side of the lab, or at least what you had seen of it, was way different from the first side. There was a sanitation station at the entrance along with a cart full of hazmat suits. You could tell that whatever was in this side of the lab was probably not something you’d want to mess with.

You were right. The west side of the lab was far more interesting that the East, and not in a good way. The files you found on the computers detailed the disturbing experiments carried out on real human beings, and pods on the wall held some of their “successes,” which were mutated mounds of flesh and body parts. This, you knew, would haunt your nightmares for a long time.

The two of you reached the back of the lab, where one vial was left in a large centrifuge. Leon picked it out of the container. He observed the label, noticing the large letter G.

"That was easy," he said, looking back to you.

"Don't speak too soon, I have a bad feeling about this," you replied. As if on cue, the intercoms played a message:

"Attention: Unauthorized removal of a level 4 virus detected. Facility lockdown initiated. Self destruct sequence will begin when lockdown is complete."

Leon's heart sank when he heard the message. Of course this would happen, because nothing was gonna be easy in raccoon city. In fact, nothing has been easy all night. He questioned whether the universe wanted him to make it out alive since so many curveballs have come his way.

"Let's find Ada!" He said to you as he ran down the hall. You followed behind, trying to keep pace with him. You entered another platform room that led to the other side of the lab, running across the metal and praying to God you would be fast enough. You were so close to the next door, getting closer, and closer.

Then the ceiling behind you fell in. And a familiar face rose from the dust. Or rather, what was left of his mutating face. Birkin.

"You again," Leon clenched his jaw, glaring back at the creature that just wouldn't die. He raised his gun. Then the door behind him beeped open

"Move. He's mine!" A woman's voice yelled. You looked around. It was Annette. She limped in front of Leon, holding out a strange gun of her own. "This has to end."

She shot him. Not with a bullet, but a strange acid or serum. Whatever it was, it had Birkin writing on the ground in pain.

"What's going on?" Leon said, but it fell on deaf ears. Annette took another step forward towards the creature.

"Sorry William, you gave me no choice," She said to it. The creature stopped moving, and Leon walked around the creature with his gun trained on it. You walked behind him, pulling out your own in the process. When Leon was content it wouldn't be getting up any time soon, he squatted to take a better look at the monster in front of him.

"You called this thing 'William,' why?"

Annette didn't acknowledge him. She shook her head, looking down.

"It shouldn't have ended like this," she whispered.

"Shouldn't have ended like what?" You spoke up.

"It's Umbrella's fault, this whole mess!" She seethed. You don't know if she was answering your question or not, she didn't seem like she was listening.

"You're Umbrella too." Leon said.

"Yeah, and YOU made this virus," you added.

"William and I made the virus, but we never meant for this to happen!" He voice cracked as she yelled and you notice the tears running down her face.

There was a pause in the conversation. Annette's fierce eyes burned into your soul as she tried to control her ragged breathing. This took you by surprise, because in your first interaction with her, she didn't act very human. But now, you could feel her guilt, and you could feel her loss. Whoever William was, he was important to her.

"Tell us everything that happened— every detail," Leon said calmly and firmly. He definitely had the mannerisms of a cop, you thought. She took a couple deep breaths, and began to speak.

"The government was onto Umbrella, they have been for a while now," she paused, putting together her thoughts, "William was going to turn G in to the government for immunity. Umbrella heard about it and sent their special ops team in to take him down. When they raided the lab, I knew what they were there for, so I ran to find William," she choked down a sob, "I was too late, they had shot him and he had just injected himself with G.”

"So this is your fault? You created this monstrosity?" Leon accused.

"We made the G-Virus, but we never intended for this to happen!" She replied in a venomous tone.

You were listening to them argue, when you saw something out of the corner of your eye. Something moved, something in William's direction. It took you a second to piece together what was happening, it was a second too long.

"You could spin it anyway you want, you're still responsible,"

The monster rose, grabbing Annette with its clawed hand. He squeezed her tight, as she struggled to get out of his grasp. Then, he threw her against the opposite door. Her body crumpled to the ground.

The creature turned, looking at you with its many eyes. Then, it lunged at you, trying to grab you too. You screamed as you fell backwards into the floor, your abdomen grazed by it's claws. Your stomach burned as you felt your shirt grow wet, you looked down to see the tear that traveled from your bra to top of your pants.

"Y/N, get out of the way!" Leon yelled. Then you saw its claws coming at you again. You backed away as quickly as you could, though the shock of your wound kicked in, making it hard to focus on anything but the searing pain.

"Over here you ugly bastard!" Leon yelled, trying to get William away from you.

Anette slowly got up from the ground, holding her bloody side. Using all the strength she had, she trudged over to a control panel and pressed a button.

"He can't get away," she said to herself.

Suddenly, red flashed through the room and the platform you were on descended to the bottom of the lab. The lights, the pain, and the panic disoriented you.

But then you saw Leon. He was using the last of his shotgun shells to take down the monster, to keep it away from you. And then you realized:

You had feelings for him.

You had only known him for a night, but what had happened—and is still happening— in that night would surely keep you bonded for life. Maybe it was an adrenaline-fueled infatuation, you didn't care. You knew how you felt.

The platform was floor lever now, so you stepped off, one hand clutching your bleeding stomach and one hand wielding your gun.

Whatever it was, it was getting too close to Leon for your liking.

"Hey ugly! Over hee-ere!" You yelled in a sing-song voice. The creature turned around, stomping over towards you. Thank God you were a good shot.

"What are you doing?!" Leon yelled.

"I'm not letting it hurt you!" You yelled back.

"But that's what I was doing for you!"

Then you thought of a plan.

"Leon, divide and conquer!" You yelled.

So the two of you bombarded the creature on both sides, filling him with bullets and trying to light him on fire with your gasoline and lighter. Don't get me wrong, though, this was not a fair fight. William was fast and had inhuman strength He tore equipment from the ground to throw at the two of of you like it was nothing. You were also at a disadvantage with your injury, making your pace slower. Still, somehow the two of you remained unscathed. And by the grace of God, you defeated it. As you watched Williams body crumble to the floor, you made a note to go to church again after all this was over.

"You still in one piece? How’s your stomach?” Leon asked, walking past William and over to you.

"It’s just a scratch,” you replied, looking down at your would. The bleeding had stopped, and it looked like it was already scabbing up.

Leon grinned at you, still breathing heavily. That stupid smile of his. Perhaps it was best that you never got to work with him, because you knew if you had seen that smile at the precinct, you would have fallen helplessly in love. You could even hear Marvin yelling at you for it.

“Then lets get going”

[nightofthewerehunty]

So I’ve forgotten how to use tumblr on my iPad and I can’t do the cut for a read more. Sorry, guys. But here’s my Peaky Blinders fanfiction on the relationship between Thomas and Ada. I’ve given the link to AO3 above so use that if you’d like to comment. Cheers!

Rot

When she’s feeling unkind towards herself, she thinks there’s a rot somewhere hidden, festering and spreading through her veins. Soon it’ll reach her heart. Or maybe that’s where it was hidden. Where it started, her black heart. Ada would know if she ever payed attention to that particular organ. Kidneys? Sure, have a look. Liver? Yes please, she needs it to drink. But her heart? Well, does it matter where the rot came from once it gets there? Ada doesn’t think so. And she feels it, burning and burning and burning away inside her chest until its all she can do not to cut out the charred organ herself. She thinks of Freddie, not out of love which may seem cruel, but out of curiosity. Would the infection have spread if he was alive? If she was a romantic, which she’s not, she’d have said that she doesn’t have a heart to infect. Buried it long ago with her husband, and then again with her morals, and then again with Grace so maybe Freddie’s death started something but it was something that would have happened even if he lived. Taken a little longer, maybe, but happened all the same. When she’s feeling kind towards herself, she gives the rot a name; she calls it Thomas.

Ada spends her life reading the moods of Thomas Michael Shelby and she’s perfected it after the war. She’s learned to hear the unspoken in his words. The threats behind his whims. It’s business, Ada. That’s what she tells herself and that’s what he says. It’s all just business. Legal. Illegal. On the books or off. It doesn’t matter. It’s just business. But that was before Grace, before the Russians. Tom’s different now and all her hard work of understanding him is thrown to fucking shit. How can she hear his unspoken words if he doesn’t fucking talk anymore? It’s all just lists now. Pieces of paper she has to burn when she’s through and it takes everything inside her not to chuck Tommy into the flames with his small written words. Did you get my list, Ada? Did you make your list, Ada? Have Arthur and John got their fucking lists, Ada? And Pol says he’s grieving, to give him time and he’ll be back. Back with the family where he belongs and Ada thinks while Polly drinks that Tom’s never belonged anywhere. At least, not after France. Not after the mud and the blood and the fucking bleak midwinter that the brothers always reference as if she doesn’t know what it means. As if it was something far removed from her. As if she wouldn’t be losing her entire fucking family if the bleak midwinter where to rear its bloodied, muddied head.

Ada knows about grief. She’s studied it her whole life. First with her mother and then with her father. Then Freddie and that took more than she cares to remember to make it out the other side. But she had Karl and that was important. Tommy has Charles and that’s good, but what Tommy needed was Grace. Ada won’t speak to love on another’s behalf, but if she was forced to, she’d say that Tommy belonged with Grace. And if she was drunk, like proper drunk and asked, she may even say it was Grace who lifted Tom out of the mud and the tunnels and the blood. Then Polly would roll her eyes while sipping her whiskey and Ada would remind her that she’d already said she didn’t want to talk about love while she fills her glass back to the top again. Back to the top, Ada thinks and swirls the contents of her glass. Tommy’s always trying to get back to the top. Top of the business. Top of the family. Top of the earth and tunnels and mud and fucking everything else he was before he was buried in France.

“What if you don’t get back?” She finds herself asking him one evening after too much wine and too many cigarettes and then a few more whiskeys to remind herself why the wine was too much.

“Back where?” He says after a pause to light his cigarette and he stares. His eyes catch the light of his flame and the gold of his whiskey, and for one moment, for one short, tiny, little fucking moment, he appears as a man. Just a man with his vices.

“I don’t know, Tommy. Wherever it is you need to get back to.”

Thomas puts out his cigarette with force; it’s his favorite thing to do when he doesn’t like the direction of a conversation. When it feels out of his control. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Thorne,” he says and his contempt rolls off his tongue into her ears. She’s not Ada tonight. She’s a stranger sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. And if she wasn’t so angry at being shut out, she might revel in the idea that she understands him again. That he’s back to speaking words and not writing them.

“What I mean is, Mr. Shelby,” she spits, “will it be worth it? All this? All you’ve done?” Ada watches the questions roll off Tommy’s face as he reaches for his cigarettes again. He slips one between his lips with an upward tilt of his mouth; it’s the sorta expression he wears when he finds things funny.

“I don’t know, Ms. Shelby.” So she’s back to being a Shelby now. Tommy always did like it when she fought back. That’s our Ada, he’d say when she’d come home with her bloody lips from her scraps by the cut. What poor soul crossed you today, he’d joke as if he didn’t know the reason for her bruises. As if they could pretend in that one childish moment that they weren’t scum. The lowest of the low. Poor and Gypsy and fatherless and motherless. Our Ada, he’d say as if they didn’t all spend every fucking second of their lives outside their home fighting because the world picked the fight first. “Is it worth it?” Tommy muses while he lights the tip of his smoke and stands. “You tell me,” he says and walks to the cabinet to pour himself another drink. “Those furs, that wine, your home in London. Is it worth it, Ada?”

“I’m not talking about me, Thomas,” she says angrily while sloshing some whiskey from her glass. She wasn’t expecting him to ease back into his gentle threats as soon as he began speaking again. But that’s her fault. Tommy’s a cornered beast. She knows that. Grief can make an animal still but it’ll never defang it.

“And what are you talking about, eh?” He asks louder than her outburst without turning away from his liquor cabinet. “You talking about business?”

“Fuck the business, Tom! For fucks sake!” She yells. “When was the last time you saw Charlie? You spend ten minutes with him every morning and night, that’s it,” Ada takes a pause to sigh and sip her drink. Tommy won’t look at her. He sinks his head down to rest by his glass. “He asks for you, Tom. And that’s so important right now, that he’s asking for you.” He raises his head to down his whiskey. She’s pissed him off; she can tell by the slam of his glass and the jerky motion of him refilling it. She’s too close to saying what Tommy won’t allow to be said. Grace may be dead, but God help you if you acknowledge it.

“And what does it matter to you? Eh?” He stalks towards her and points, his full glass held in front of him as if it were a bayonet at the end of his loaded words. “What is it you fucking want, Ada?” The hardness of his face makes her tense more than his volume. And then she understands his words and they pierce her skin like little needles all over. The words travel up her veins and through her blood. There it is, she thinks. The fucking rot. That he really believes this to be a transaction. That Ada would ever use his pain like that. “Please fucking tell me,” he continues, “so’s I can give it to you and you can get out of my FUCKING HOUSE.”

“I’m here because you asked me to watch your son while you were away, you fucking asshole!” She’s had too much whiskey to handle Tommy unhinged. She’ll just make it worse, she knows that. She should stop talking, go to bed, but she’s so angry and it’s that fucking infection. That rot spreading out through her heart. Tommy’s a curse, she thinks. “I tell you there’s a child up there asking for his father and the first thing you think is ‘what’s my angle?’ It’s love, Tommy. And children need it.”

“Don’t fucking tell me how to raise my son, Ada.” He lowers himself down with his words and she finds herself inches from Tommy’s wide-eyed rage. “I love him,” he says, “And I would do fucking anything for him so don’t fuckin’ talk to me about love.”

Now she needs to be quiet. Tom’s one of those wire-trapped rooms he talks about from France. And right now, in this exact moment, he’s handed her the wire cutters. Ada knows to stay still in these situations but the whiskey, or maybe it’s the wine, makes her clumsy.

“She’d want you to spend time with him,” she says and she can see the explosion in his eyes before he turns and throws his glass at the wall. She found the fucking grenade alright. Tripped right over it. He grabs her chin with his now free hand and Ada thinks about the days when he just wrote fucking lists. How could she be so naive as to think talking with him was better?

“She’d want a lot of things, Ada, so many fucking things. And the first thing she’d want would be to not be fuckin’ dead.” She’s aware of the pressure from Tom’s fingers but it doesn’t bother her as much as the difference between Tommy’s face and his voice. He’s so pale and still with his wet and red-rimmed eyes. He barely moves his lips while speaking and he looks hollow. Looks dead. But his voice shakes over every word, every syllable. She can feel the grief and anger settle between the centimeters that separate their faces. He’s losing to it. Or maybe he lost long ago and she never wanted to admit it. Tommy tightens his grip on her. “So don’t sit in my fuckin’ house, drinking my fuckin’ whiskey and tell me what Grace would want.” The second he spits out the words, he pushes her face back and lets go of her chin, but it takes days for Ada to forgot the feeling of his fingers digging into her jaw.

There’s so much to do in London and Ada needs to feel alive. Being surround by death her whole life, she thinks she deserves it. And todays version of life is in a pub with a man and lots and lots of gin. He’s a foreigner, an American, which is better for her since he doesn’t know what her last name means.

“Your drink, Ms. Shelby,” the barkeep says while setting her gin and tonic in front of her. He spares the American a nod and moves on.

“He didn’t ask you to pay,” notes the yet unnamed man.

“Got a tab,” Ada shrugs. “But more importantly, have you got a room?” The American returns her flirtatious smile.

“Of course,” he says,”Would you like to see it?”

The act is enjoyable enough and the American, named Frank she’d learned, is a generous lover, but once it’s done, she just wants to be home. Take a bath, have some tea, maybe read a little and then go to bed. She tells herself it’s late, and it is, but she knows that’s not why she wants to go. Poor Ada, she thinks. Wants so bad to feel alive but gets tired of it after only four hours.

“I’m here until Thursday,” says Frank. “Will I see you again?”

“Doubt it,” Ada says while fixing her stockings, “But you’re a good man. You’ll be alright.”

She turns the key to her door and steps into her home already warmed by a fire. She hadn’t done that. Cautious now and wishing she’d let Arthur give her that gun Monday, she sets her purse on the table near the door. For’s protection, he’d tried to tell her. Just in case, but ya don’t need to worry, Ada. We got men out there, he’d said, we’ll keep ya safe. Safe, she thinks now as she creeps down her hallway. She’ll never be fucking safe, not with family like hers. Not with her last name - either of them.

“Whose there?” She calls out before she gets closer to the drawing room.

“Hello to you too, Ada,” comes Tom’s reply. He stands by the fireplace, a glass of Ada’s whiskey already in his hands and a smoke hanging from his stern-set lips.

“Fucking Christ, Tommy,” she snaps while pulling off her gloves and tossing them onto the chair. “I locked the door. You said there weren’t anymore spare keys.”

“I lied,” he says, “Where’s Karl?”

“With Pol, but you already knew that seeing as how you know everything.” She hasn’t spoken to Tommy since she set off the bomb back at his place. That was almost three weeks ago.

“I know you wouldn’t take the gun from Arthur,” he says after a sip of his drink. Ada walks over to pour one for herself and snatches the offered cigarette from Tommy’s outstretched hand. “It makes me uneasy, Ada,” he continues, “You out there, unarmed.” He motions towards the outside with his drink.

“He says you’ve got men watching the house.” She stops to drink and smoke.

“We do,” he agrees and clears his throat, “But it still makes me uneasy.”

“Imagine that,” she scoffs, “Thomas fuckin’ Shelby, uneasy.” She turns from him to sit on the couch. She’s too tired for this. To decipher the meaning behind his words.

“Yeah,” he nods, “It makes me uneasy. You walking around unarmed, meeting with foreigners, going back to their hotels.” So that’s what this is, she thinks. He’s not uneasy. He’s mad. But Ada’s mad too. Fucking enraged, actually. The audacity of Tommy, thinking he can come into her home and wait up for her like she’s some fucking child who snuck out the house.

“Why don’t you just say what it is you want to say, Tommy,” she says. “Because if it wasn’t a foreigner, it be some man from London, or some poor soul from Birmingham. Or maybe it’s that I was out at pub? You think that improper now, is that it?”

“You usually stay out this late, Ada?” He asks without answering any of her questions.

“No,” she bites out. He nods and turns from the fireplace to sit in the chair across from her. He sets his drink on the table between them and leans back in his seat. So self assured. So fucking full of himself in her home at two in the fuckin’ morning. She hates him and with that hatred she feels the heat of that festering rot closing in around her heart, making its beats wild and bucking like a untamed stallion chained in her chest.

“That’s good,” he says. “Good it’s not a habit for you to be stepping out with American men named Frank until two in the morning.”

“Oh my god,” she sighs while she hangs her head low into her hands. “He’s not important, Tom. He’s here on holiday. He doesn’t know shit.”

“I know,” he says after a pause and sip. “I know a lot about Frank as it is. I know he arrived Sunday. He’s leaving Thursday. And he’s got a room down at the Richmond.” He stops to clear his throat and put out his cigarette. “He’s a banker,” he continues, “Works with Fryman’s Investors. Divorced. His ex-wife lives in Vienna with her bohemian lover. The bohemian’s a painter.” She can feel him watching her. Seeing if she’ll react to his words. She doesn’t want to look up. To see the smug expression he’s wearing. She’s so fucking tired, so fucking tired of this. And of him.

“I can do what I want, Tom,” she says, “I can see who I want, and I can fuck who I want.”

“Can you?”

She jerks her head up at his question. “Yeah, I fuckin’ can,” she says while staring into his cloudy blue eyes. If their not clear, his eyes that is, it means he’s drunker than he acts. Damn the Shelby men and their fucking alcohol tolerance. How long had he been drinking her whiskey waiting for her to get home? “So is that it, then? Are we done now? Can I go to bed like I wanted to when I got back to my fucking house?” She finishes her words with the last of the whiskey in her in glass. Tommy shifts in his seat to bring out his cigarette holder and lighter before he stands and grabs the whiskey off the mantle. He fills his glass, then Ada’s, and he sits back down while straightening out his jacket like a fucking king.

“No, we’re not done,” he says and lights up a smoke. “There’s some business.”

“I don’t give a fuck about business, Tom!” She snaps. “I want to go to bed.”

“There’s some business that you need to know about,” he continues as if she never spoke. “It’ll affect the family, and that includes you, no matter how much you fight it.” He points at her with his cigarette. “So from now, stay away from London pubs. Stay away from foreigners. And get back home before ten.”

“I’m not a child, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” He says sharply as he leans forward, “Then stop fuckin’ acting like one.”

She wants to cry. Not because what he says hurts; that doesn’t matter anymore. Ada wants to cry because she’s not allowed to have anything. Her home? That’s Tommy’s and the endless supply of spare keys he seems to have is proof enough of that. Her whiskey? Paid for by the Shelby Brothers Limited. Her time? Well, there’s a curfew in effect for that and watchdogs to enforce it. And now, her body. The last bit of herself she foolishly thought she owned. Tommy’ll decide who she can give it to, and if she’s being honest with herself, although honesty has always hurt Ada, she’s never really believed it belonged to her anyway. His grip on her heart tightens and tightens and tightens until the stallion bucking away inside her breaks under his slip lead. Tommy’s always had a way with horses and apparently that extends to the fucking metaphorical one she invented to justify the wild beats in her chest.

“It’s not fair,” she says, “It’s not right. You can’t control people like this, Tom. You just can’t.”

“Everyone else is following the same rules, Ada.” He breathes out smoke with his words. “And they don’t seem to have a problem following them.”

“Because who can say no to Thomas Shelby?” She shakes her head, and downs her whiskey, and reaches for another cigarette. She needs something in her hands or she’ll be tempted to lay them on Tommy. To make him feel every blow to her ego he’s ever dealt.

“No, because when I tell them to do something,” he says, “They know it’s for their own good. They know it’s for a good fucking reason.” He leans over to fill her glass again. From her bottle. Sitting in her chair and still ruling over every aspect of her small, little life.

“A good reason? Yeah, I bet you’re just fuckin’ full of them, Tommy.”

“Ada.”

“Fuck off, Tom!” She says loudly and drunkenly. If he keeps pushing her, she’ll let go. Just let the gin and the whiskey do the talking. God, how she wishes she would. Someone has too. Someone has to fucking stop him before he breaks everything. Before he breaks her. “I have to be up early,” She says, “I have to get Karl from Polly in the morning. Just let me go to bed, Tommy, please.” It’s the alcohol in her that lets slip the please. She’d never beg sober.

“Alright,” he says as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s alright, Ada. We’ll talk again. Soon.” She doesn’t follow him to the door. She just waits to her the click of the lock before she lets loose her tears.

II.

The restrictions are lifted soon enough when the business is resolved, but Ada can’t stop thinking about it; the chokehold she felt that night. She can’t stay here. She’ll go raving fuckin’ mad. She tries to remember herself. The woman who fell in love with Freddie Thorne. The woman who stood in no-man’s land between two of the stupidest groups of men she’d ever witnessed. Where’d she gone? Ada begins looking for her. In her lipsticks. In her perfumes. In her silk robes. Where could she be, the old Ada? She doesn’t allow herself to consider the worst; that the old Ada died. Succumbed to the infection called Thomas Shelby. She hears Karl waking in the other room and she stands from her kitchen table, silk flowing behind her as she walks through the cold hall towards her son. Sometimes, she feels afraid to love him. Karl’s all she has that’s rightfully hers. And if she acknowledges it, if she makes her claim, she knows Tommy’ll make his. He’s part of the family, Ada, she can already hear him saying it. Ada opens the door to Karl’s bedroom, and her son turns his beautiful, little face towards his mother.

“Good morning, my love,” she says softly and crosses the room to sit on his bed. She smoothes the soft hairs of his head and leans in to kiss his temple. Thomas will never have her son, she thinks with her lips pressed against Karl’s skin. She pulls back and smiles with wet eyes. “Let’s get you some breakfast, yeah?” she says while prodding the boy from his bed. Her son’s a Thorne, not a fucking Shelby, and if Tom ever tries to take Karl from her then God help him. She’ll take his fucking eyes. And it’s with that thought she realizes she knows where to look for the old Ada.

Of course, she still lets Karl see his cousins. It’d be cruel to deny the children like that. Kids are kept far away from the business anyway and that’s all the interaction Tommy gives Ada nowadays. So she gets confused when Tom stays sitting after she gives the name of the Bolshevik agitator. Then he mentions the position in Boston and while he describes it, she knows that he knows how fucking scared she is. And being the gracious man he is, he offers a different continent and a whole fucking ocean to protect her son from him. She knows it’s the closest she’ll ever get to a promise from Tom. Her son’s a Thorne, would say the ocean separating them from him. It’s also the closest she’ll get to acknowledgment from Tommy about his treatment towards her. It means he knows about the slip lead, the infection, and the fucking rot she’s tried so hard to keep hidden. Thomas fucking Shelby knows everything and still nothing matters to him.

She gets closer to Lizzie then she ever thought she would. Ada tries hard to not judge others, but Lizzie’s reputation had stood between them so long that she forgot. And it’s not until late one evening at the Shelby Brothers Limited almost four hours after close that Ada realizes she thinks of Lizzie as a friend. She watches the tall, dark haired beauty pour herself a drink and she sees the tired lines running through Lizzie’s face and the way her body struggles to keep her hand from shaking while she pours.

“You alright there, Lizzie?” Ada asks.

“Yeah,” Lizzie chuckles, “I’m alright.” Ada knows that line. Says it herself about five times a week.

“Is it Tom then?”

Lizzie chokes on her drink but Ada can tell it’s a laugh. “Is it that obvious?” Lizzie asks while wiping her mouth. “Of course it is,” she continues, “It’s fuckin’ stamped on my forehead.” She walks back over to where Ada sits and sinks into the chair next to her. “It’s my fault, really,” she says and takes the cigarette offered to her from Ada. “You know, I thought,” she pauses to light her smoke, “Working here, getting paid as secretary and not a whore. I thought it’d make me feel better. So it’s funny, really, how much worse I feel.”

Ada wants to tell Lizzie that she’s not a whore. Not anymore. But she can’t. The words get choked up in her throat and make her want to gag. Because they’re not true, are they? And Lizzie’s past might make it easier for the reformed street-walker to accept Tommy’s treatment. To take his words and actions as the paid wounds they are. And maybe that’s what Ada hates most about him. That he makes her, his sister, feel like a common fucking whore. Every bit of her up for sale.

“Well, you know Tom,” Ada says as she stands and pours herself another glass of whiskey. She holds the bottle out for Lizzie and the beauty leans forward to take it from her hands. “Everything has its price,” she says with a swig from her drink, “And God knows he’s got the money to pay for it.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Lizzie says while holding out her glass with a shake of her head. Ada clinks the glasses together and smiles.

“You’re not alone,” she says softly, “Not anymore.”

“It was simpler when he just wanted to fuck,” Lizzie muses then she looks up at Ada with a slight blush. “Sorry,” she continues, “I know he’s your brother.”

“Me? Related to Thomas Shelby?” Ada asks. “That’ll be the fuckin’ day.” She finishes the brown liquor in her glass and puts out of her smoke. Then she considers Lizzie’s words and she finds herself asking a question before she’s had time to think about asking it. “He doesn’t fuck you?”

Lizzie stops mid-sip to bring her eyes back from their distance and look to Ada. She swallows and sets her glass on the desk in front of them. “No,” she says, “Tom’s been seeking other women these days. Never the same one. Never more than once.” Ada nods as if the information fits into some sorta puzzle she didn’t know she was solving. “They all look the same though,” Lizzie continues, “And I don’t say it meanly, but they all look the fuckin’ same.”

“Like Grace?” Ada asks as she grabs another cigarette and lights it.

“No,” Lizzie says as she pours herself more whiskey. She caps the bottle and pushes it away from her. “No, Ada,” she sighs, “Not like her. None of them look like Grace.”

Ada tucks her conversation with Lizzie away into the cobwebbed corners of her mind. Then she forgets about it and it stays tucked away there for all of about three weeks until she goes to visit John and Esme. It’s a lively household. Makes makes her home feel haunted by comparison. If it’s not the children, running around and yelling at the top of their lungs, it’s Esme and John themselves screaming. And for all the yelling and noise that can be heard at their home, she knows it’s a happy one. They both have tempers, she won’t lie about that, and they both have too much pride. Ada’s been between enough fights of theirs to know that. But they love each other. And she bets Thomas didn’t see that coming when he forced them to get married. But isn’t love always Tommy’s weakness? She sits in the parlor of John’s home and listens to Esme loudly tell him that she didn’t want company tonight. That’s fine, thinks Ada. She doesn’t want to be here either. But Shelby business can’t wait, can it?

“Did you want some tea?” Esme asks with narrowed eyes as she sits herself across from Ada.

“No,” she answers as she takes off her gloves. “But I’ll have some whiskey if you’re pouring.”

“We’re always fuckin’ pourin’ round here,” Esme mutters as she grabs two glasses and a bottle off the mantle. “John’ll be down soon.”

“Okay,” Ada nods as she looks around and then she feels compelled to add, “It’s not just John, you know? Who I’m here to see.”

“Sorry for not jumpin’ for joy at seeing Tommy’s favorite lapdog,” Esme says as she takes a healthy gulp from her glass. Ada sighs and drinks her whiskey. She used to be close with Esme. She’s not really sure where the relationship went sour, but it probably has something to do with the rot. Ada’s missed a lot of things trying to fight the infection. At least the Gypsy will still drink in her presence. “So what were you doing there then?” Esme asks.

“Doing what where?” Ada says and fishes her cigarette holder out of her pocket.

“At the Ritz,” Esme continues, “My cousin says she saw you. Walkin’ arm in arm with Thomas after midnight.”

“I haven’t been to the fuckin’ Ritz,” Ada says. “Tell you cousin to get some fuckin’ glasses, yeah?”

Esme shrugs as if her earlier words didn’t mean anything. “I’m just tellin’ you,” she says, “So’s you can be more cautious in the future. Eyes out there everywhere.” Ada stops before she lights her smoke. She doesn’t understand.

“I’m not lying,” is the only thing Ada can think to say. “I wasn’t at the Ritz.” John walks into the room as she finishes her sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell, Esme,” he says as he grabs a glass from above the fireplace and walks towards the bottle on the table. “I told you it wasn’t Ada,”

“Right,” his wife agrees, “And now I asked her myself so I believe you. Both of you.” Esme stands and finishes her drink. “I trust my ‘usband to tell me whatever it is you got to say so I’ll be leavin’ now.”

“Yeah, fuck off,” John calls over his shoulder as he pours himself a whiskey. “Fuckin’ hell,’’ he mutters.

“Still in the honeymoon period, eh, John?” Ada can’t help but tease.

“Fuckin’ honeymoons,” he says while shaking his head. “You know, we haven’t taken it yet? Our fuckin’ honeymoon. And every time I ask her where she wants to go, she says she wants to go the fuckin’ pastures. Like I want a honeymoon spent in horse shit. Can stay in Small Heath for that.” He tips the contents of his glass down his throat and turns towards Ada. “So what’s he got to say then?” He slams his glass on the table and wipes his mouth. “Another fuckin’ list?” John asks as he holds out his hand.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “It’s another fucking list.” Ada shifts in her seat to bring out the folded piece of paper from her pocket for John.

“Great,” he says as he snatches it from her hand. “I was startin’ to worry, you know? Hadn’t gotten one in the last eight fuckin’ hours.”

“He’s trying his best, John,” and even Ada doesn’t believe the words she says.

“Yeah, I know,” John says as he swipes at his nose. She figures their sibling bond is the only thing that stops him from pushing the lie. He pulls a cigarette out his pocket and sits in the chair Esme left empty. “I believe you,” he offers as he lights his smoke and for one moment Ada thinks John might be stupid. “That it wasn’t you at the Ritz, that is,” he continues, “Not the other fuckin’ thing.” He motions towards Tommy’s list with his words. There it is, Ada smiles to herself. You can’t bullshit John and it’s good to know that hasn’t changed. He reaches for the bottle to pour another drink and sinks back into his chair with his full glass. He looks beyond strained. More like defeated. Not that it’s unexpected given the circumstances, but John’s usually faster to bounce back from Tommy’s callousness. But it’s been going on for nearly four months now so she can’t really blame him. His vest is crumpled under his jacket and it brings out the little boy hiding in his features. Ada knows if Arthur saw him like this, he’d slap his back. Come on now, he’d say. Things to do, Johnboy, ya know how it is. But it shouldn’t be like that, should it? It’s wrong, what Tommy asks of his family. Our Johnboy, she thinks and puts out her cigarette. Boy is right; he’s got too much youth left to let Tommy beat it out of him like this.

“But she did look like you,” he says and his words spark that tucked away memory of her conversation with Lizzie. “And it’s not the first time it’s happened.” He looks to the side as he speaks and lights the almost forgotten cigarette in his hand. “I wasn’t gonna say nothin’ but Esme.” He stops and sniffs before he gulps half the whiskey in his glass. “Well, she’s little rough, I know,” he continues, “but she’s a good woman.” John stops again with a sigh. He shifts in his seat and takes a long drag from his smoke as if he needs to consider his words carefully. As if what he’s got to say is something Ada won’t want to hear and he’s need to figure out how to frame it first. God bless him, she thinks. John may be able to see through bullshit, but he sure as hell can’t hide his. “It worries her,” he says, “that’s all,” and that he ends up on those words after all his seemingly careful deliberation bothers her. How odd. How honest. How like her Johnboy. Ada doesn’t know what to say so she drinks instead.

Regardless of her current standing with Esme, Ada respects her. The woman has intuition and the backbone to defend it. Esme reminds her of Polly sometimes and she wonders if that’s how Pol might’ve been while young. Headstrong, loud, and drunk, but full of the world’s secrets. Ada sits by Polly’s desk at the Shelby Brothers Limited late one evening and watches the older woman write in shorthand, her pen moving like wildfire across the paper.

“What?” Asks Polly.

“Nothing,” Ada shrugs. Pol stops writing and looks up at her. “Really, it’s nothing, Pol,” Ada says. The older woman stares at her a moment too long before she looks back down at her paper and begins her furious writing again.

“Sure,” Polly says, “It’s always nothing, isn’t it?” Ada rolls her eyes at Polly’s words. “This whole family is full of nothing.”

“Don’t take your anger out on me, Pol,” she sighs. “Whatever he’s done now, it’s not my fault.”

“Who said anything about me being angry?” The older woman snaps as she slams down her pen. “And why should I be angry? It’s doesn’t have anything to do with me. Nothing does, nowadays.” She opens her cigarette case and pulls out a long, black smoke before tapping it on the desk. Polly lights her smoke while narrowing her eyes at the flame then flicks the smoldering match to the ashtray. “So you’ve thought about Boston?”

“Yeah,” Ada says after a pause to light her own cigarette, “I think it’ll be good.”

“It’ll be a lotta work,” says Pol, “But that might be what you need right now. God knows a bored Shelby is a curse on the world.” Ada thinks about reminding Polly that she’s a Thorne now, but the words take too much effort so she lets them stay resting under her tongue. Her Aunt has her eyes closed with her head leaned back against the top of the chair. If Ada’s going to ask what she wants to, what she came here to ask, it should be now. While Pol is resting and unawares.

“Has Esme talked with you?” Ada asks.

“Oh god, why?” Asks Polly as she sits up straight in her chair and puts out her cigarette. “It’s not the count, is it?” she continues while standing and turning towards the back room containing the safe. “I swear, the women these boys bring into our home.”

“No,” Ada says before Pol can leave the room. “It wouldn’t be about business.”

Polly stops with her back facing Ada. “Should we have a drink?” She asks while turning towards the draw hiding the always present bottle. “Feels like this is a conversation where we’ll want one.” She pours two glasses of whiskey without waiting for Ada’s reply. Then the older woman walks back to her desk and holds out the glass for her niece before sitting back down. “So what would this talk with Esme be about?” Polly asks after a sip.

“Well, if you haven’t had it yet, you can’t tell me, can you?” Says Ada.

“I thought I was asking you,” says Pol as she slips out another black cigarette to sit between between her lips and then lights it. She sits quietly with her eyes focused in the distance and Ada can see her mind running through all the possibilities. “What’d John do this time?” Polly finally asks.

“Nothing,” Ada chuckles, “At least not yet, anyway.”

“Right, so it’s not about business and it’s not about John,” Polly muses and traces her fingers over her lips. Running more scenarios, Ada thinks to herself with a smile. Then her eyes shift back to Ada’s and Pol drops her hand from her face while setting her glass down on the desk. “Is it Tom?”

Just as Ada is about to nod, she sees a figure in the corner of her eye, watching them both from the doorway; an ember at the tip of his smoke illuminates the face in the dark. “Tommy! Christ!” Ada cries.

“Oh god, is it that bad?” Polly asks while seemingly unaware that the topic of their conversation stands behind her in the doorway. As if his name somehow summoned him like devil he is. He moves silently into the room like a fucking ghost.

“Hello, Pol,” he says but his eyes stay steady on Ada. Polly gasps and puts her hand to her chest.

“Oh fuck,” she sighs and moves her hand from her chest up to her temple. “Lost about five years just now and I don’t have them to lose, I’ll have you know.”

“Have I interrupted something?” He asks as he sits in the empty chair next to Polly and across from Ada. His sister drinks from her whiskey and looks away from Tom’s eyes.

“You did,” says Polly, “but when have you ever cared?” She stamps out her smoke with her words. “So what are you doing here?” She continues. “Arthur said you wouldn’t be in until noon tomorrow.”

“Arthur doesn’t know everything, Pol,” Tommy says and Ada stands to refill her glass. “I’ll have one,” he adds and clears his throat. Ada looks up at the ceiling willing God to give her the strength she needs not to throw the bottle at Tommy’s head before she grabs another glass and fills it. She sets the bottle down harder then she means to and Tom raises his eyebrow at the sound.

“Sorry,” says Ada and hands him his drink before sitting back in her seat.

Polly shifts her eyes back and forth between the two siblings. “Right,” she says, and Ada knows her aunt’s trying to read the unspoken in the room. Well good fucking luck, Ada thinks. Lately, even she doesn’t know what Tommy’s not saying.

“Well, continue your conversation then,” he says before he takes a sip of his drink and fixes his jacket. “What does Esme need to talk with you about?”

“I don’t know,” replies Polly. Ada can feel the older woman carefully measuring out her words. “We’ve only just established it’s not about business, John, or you,” she continues.

“You’ve established that, have you?” Tom asks while staring at Ada. Her pulse quickens under his eyes and she reaches for another cigarette. “I wonder what it could be then,” he continues, “Sounded important, from the way Ada said it.”

Ada’s heart leaps an entire beat and she takes a gulp of her drink. He’d heard her. He’d heard the whole fucking thing. Does he already know? Did John tell him? It doesn’t seem like something John would share with Tommy, but maybe he didn’t have to. Tom’s smart. He could figure it out on his own. Then Ada has a thought and she feels herself grow cold as she considers it. What if he hasn’t been trying to hide it? She replays John’s words now. But she did look like you, he’d said, and it’s not the first time it’s happened. Jesus Christ. The whiskey in her stomach makes a jump for her throat but Ada catches it with a small gulp of air.

“You alright, Ada?” Tommy asks and she nods as she leans forward to light her cigarette off his offered flame. She’s thankful she didn’t have to light it herself or else the shaking of her hand would have been made clear.

“It’s just women’s talk, Tom,” Ada says while avoiding his eyes and leaning back in her chair. “It wouldn’t interest you.”

“This is an equal opportunity enterprise, as you both know,” he says. “What makes you think I’m not interested?”

“She just wants to Pol to do her gypsy witchcraft,” Ada says while pointing at Polly with her smoke and she feels her aunt watching her as she speaks. “Tell her the sex of the baby and other mystical unknowns.” Please God, catch on Aunt Pol, Ada thinks. She can’t calm the beats of her heart, not with the infection so close, so hot and burning.

“Of course she does,” Polly says firmly. “Who else would she go to? Doctors?” She laughs with her words and her laughter soothes a bit of Ada’s heart. Her Aunt Polly is such a clever woman. “Those men in white coats wouldn’t recognize a woman’s body if it wasn’t stretched out beneath them.” And even Tommy cracks a smile at Polly’s words.

“I’m here for the ledgers,” he says in answer to Polly’s question asked long ago and puts out his cigarette. Polly nods and gathers the stack together. “I want to look over them before my meeting in the morning,” he says after finishing the whiskey in his glass. He stands and accepts the books that Pol holds out for him. “You leaving, Ada?” He continues while towering over his sister. “I’ll give you ride.”

“I’ll just get a cab, Tom.”

“It’s safer,” he says, “riding with me. Come on, let’s go.” He walks towards the door and holds it open without waiting for her reply. Polly watches Ada with wide eyes as her niece stuffs her cigarettes back into her purse and stands. Her clever Aunt, Ada finds herself thinking again. Of course Polly’s worried too. How could she not be when Tom doesn’t even try to disguise it?

[goingsllightlymad]

Blinded By Your Light - Part 6. On Changing.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Y/N is the definition of ordinary. Studying at a medical school as far as she can get from her rainy hometown of Birmingham, she never expected to be shipped off the Flanders when the war was at it’s peak. Much less to meet a handsome young patient with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes she had seen in her life who as fate would have it would fall into her lap.

Wordcount: 6415 (I’m busy as hell with studying so I decided to publish the chapter I was writing as two shorter parts, this is the first so calm down that the ending’s pretty shit, I am going to resolve it with the next chapter and it’s allllllll gonna be chill). 

Warnings: poorly written ANGST. You’re all gonna hate hate me for this one, looking directly at you @captivatedbycillianmurphy.

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And so the months came and went through the grey streets of Small Heath like the shadow of some endless night, ebbing and flowing with the tides of time, and for the first time in your life the world did not change at all. Only the warmer days warned you that this long winter could not last forever, and all of a sudden it was over and the days were longer, bright with the flowers that came to the bakery door every morning. You gave them with the bread as you made your rounds past houses where every day the memories came creeping back, softer and sweeter and there was no pain here anymore. And in the evenings there was dancing in the upstairs rooms of the pub, you and Ada and a million dresses laid around the chairs and bed and mirror as you spun and dipped into the ecstatic dream of freedom. You were a child again, and all the world was yours once more and he was not a part of it anymore and that was just fine.

It would be a lie to say that you did not think of him, but it was only in the late nights when it was just you and your candle, looking out over the buildings at the trains as they wound away, a path you didn't take and would spend forever wondering what might have happened if you had. And when the spring fell away to summer you saw again the sunsets on the city that pulled you to the rooftop so many times before, wide-eyes wondering at the world you had not seen, ghosts of former lovers hanging onto your sleeve as you spread your arms like wings to fly away and knew you never could. Never would, because for the first time you could see no world but here outside your windows, and it suited you just fine.

And there was you and Ada, and you and Polly, and sometimes you and John, sitting and having tea in the summer sunlight, chasing round the market in your shawls and coats and painting in your mind all the colours of the apples and carrots and plums like they meant everything in the world to you. No blood, not even in those nights when you could hear the guns ringing through the darkened streets and wondered almost where Small Heath ended and your tortured mind began, the memories of a war half-left behind and somehow never left. You were safe and you were happy, and everything was going to be just fine.

Polly was opening up to you more and more as the winter melted away; by summer she was your mother, clasping your hands in hers and telling you to be wise and brave and sure of all you did, and all your stories were hers to read and note and read again whenever she saw your face and it was strangely comforting to see her everyday the same, even when she knew. She knew you, knew all you did and all you had done, and every time she looked at you there was no fear at all, and you wished for nothing more. Ada had become a friend and then a sister, she came to you at night when she could not bear to be alone with all the gunshots pounding out from their street and you both knew you'd never ask, never force her to tell what was best left unspoken, out of sight and out of mind. And there were the days when you returned to the church and there was John with your father in the little kitchen where the sun never seemed to reach all the way through the window, and you could not remember laughing as much as you did in those afternoons alone together when there was no world at all outside of your window and nothing at all between you and him.

And soon July was ending, and you were sitting in the Garrison as usual, only now the sunlight was warm and calming on your face, streaming in in glorious waterfalls of melted gold through the front windows and bathing you in soft yellow glow. The room was silent, as it often was these days as the three girls sat thoughtfully, staring into your teacups and smiling softly, lethargically. These long summer days brought hot nights, the town shimmering in balmy heat and all the world  a little crazier. There were fights in the evenings, hot blood on hot stone. Each night you hurried home a little earlier to find your away from the bubbling anger of the Garrison, where blood boiled by the bar. There was a storm brewing in the distance, dark and ominous as the clouds of cold autumn rain that hovered now in the early mornings, watchful as the eyes of God, and summer had lasted too long.

At the sound of the door flung open, all three heads jerked up, the comfortable silence shattering instantly as the room was filled with heavy footsteps, the screech of the door where the oil had dried up in the heat of days gone by. Into the room there came a crowd of men in sharp grey suits and the familiar flat-cap, brims glittering and you really meant to ask what there was about it that made you so uneasy.

"And make sure it's done by tomorrow, mind. We're not exactly rolling in spare time."

And there he was, the crowd clearing around him and all you saw was him in front of you, beautiful as the moment you had left and he was so beautiful it took your breath away. And you thought you might cry, your eyes fixed on him and your cup of tea dropped back into its saucer on the table, and then his eyes met yours and suddenly he knew.

"Go." he waved a hand and the men went, just like that, and Ada reached out to touch your arm and you held her hand tight, holding her in place because if you were left here, alone once more with him as though no time had passed at all, you weren't entirely sure what you'd do.

"Tommy," it slipped out of your mouth, a whisper so weak he might not have heard it, but he did and his eyes were so cold. His face hard as stone and crueller still than that cold winter spent without him and without even his letters, promised as they were. The way he looked at you, you thought you might never have met him at all, for in those brilliant blue eyes there was an icy hatred you had never seen before, cold as the grave and unfeeling as he stared you down, willing you to speak or willing you to leave, you knew not which. Looking on at him in the hope of a sign, something small to tell you that this was indeed the same man who had kissed you on the train station, promised you a lifetime you knew he could not give, it tore you apart to know that you did not recognise this man at all.

"(Y/N)." he spoke finally, voice flat and disinterested as if you were just another business proposal that he had no care to consider, the least wonderful thing he had seen all day. He remembered you - for a moment you had wondered if any of this had ever been real, if he simply did not know you at all, and in a way this was so much worse. He knew you, and even you could tell from his detached expression that he did not love you. "I wasn't expecting you."

"Yeah, I gathered." through the agonising sadness that was pounding in your head and in your heart and ripping you into pieces there came a rush of bitterness, anger because hadn't he said that he would write to you until he could find you again, and wasn't he here in front of you now, a little taller and a whole lot crueller than the last time you had met? You let your hand slip out of Ada's and she and Polly stood quietly and disappeared into the backrooms. It was only you and him now, along with all the universe in between.

"So where've yer been?"

"In the hospital. Some of us couldn't leave." you muttered, breaking eye contact and taking in the pub, suddenly aware that where you had been waiting for this one moment since the moment he had left, now you would rather be anywhere on earth but here with him. This was anything but the sweet reunion you had dreamed it to be in all those lonely nights in the hospital and the days when you couldn't help but see his face in every beautiful thing around, and he was anything but the sweet man you had fallen so in love with in those days when you could almost forget that love was there at all, so hateful was the world behind you.

"And now you're back. Funny how the world turns out." he sounded so much like his aunt had, that first day when she was so far from you, reading you like you could fall apart before her, your deepest secrets spilling unto her watchful eyes, and you wondered could he see himself written upon your aching soul the way you could feel it each night, eating you alive? And if you never learned from him, waited for him forever and became only the shreds of how his love had left you on that dreadful day on the platform, would he see that too? Or were you now too far away for him to find you, as you feared he was to you.

"I'm not back for you." but yes you were, and both of you knew it. Your footsteps would always lead you back to him, unknowing as you were as you followed blindly into the pits of destiny's shame. You were here for him, and if you stayed you'd do that for him too. "You'd know if you'd written."

"And why would I do that?"

And there it was, the great and terrible blow that sent you reeling, his voice so harsh it cut into you with all the force his love had never borne for you. You laughed bitterly, and when you looked at him again all you saw was the cold and broken body of a man who had once loved and now could love no more. He never wrote, he never loved, was there anything this man could do? A kinder girl than you might have pitied him, but after everything you had done in these last years you were so much more than kind. You were proud, and you were furious.

"Because there was a part of me that was so sure you loved me." your voice broke at that, and you prayed he wouldn't notice. He did, of course he did, he was Thomas Shelby and he noticed everything he could use to his own gain and suddenly you were realising that, but only after you had become yet another ploy he had slipped into his hands so easily. He had smiled at you and you used to feel special, but now you only felt like prey. You had been sure he loved you, just like you were sure that summer would come once the winter melted away, and that the sun would rise each morning and chase away the night, the simple certainties of nature, but now all you knew was that this winter was going to last a very long time, and the sun would be a long time rising. Outside the Garrison window the sun had passed behind a cloud; the room was quiet and grey, the colour gone away.

"Don't be ridiculous." he grinned like his aunt, cold and cruel and utterly malicious, but there was no softness behind his eyes like you had caught in hers, and it made you shiver despite the warmth of the days. This was not the man you knew, but this was the man you had always feared he might become, for this was the man that you had seen a million times before in the faces as they returned from the war, older now and irrevocably changed.

"More ridiculous than running away and never having the fucking nerve to write so much as one letter to explain?!" your voice was higher, louder than you had expected, thick with furious emotion that threatened to overwhelm you as you stood so close to him, throwing your hands up as you shouted. You took a moment to breathe, in then out, then turned to him slowly, words appearing in your head already steady and emotionless, the worst things you could think and you knew you had to say them now or else you'd see them every time you closed your eyes, taunting and true. "You know, I thought you were a fool, but I never took you to be a coward."

He straightened, squaring up and his jaw locking, and in that moment the last shred of the man you had loved finally fell away, and in the man it left behind you wondered how many people he had killed. He had that easy malice that made you think he'd lost count. "Watch it."

"Or what? Far as I've gathered, you don't care about me at all. Don't see why we should change that, now should we?" you were taunting him now, stepping closer to hiss it against the hot skin of his throat and you could still see the faint lines of scars you'd dressed, out of place as though they were not his past at all, stolen words from someone else's love-story and wasted in his tale of woe. Tommy Shelby was a poet, Thomas Shelby a murderer.

"You shouldn't be here." he gritted his teeth, breathing out through his nose and biting back the anger that was burning through his face and fists and every cell in his body. You were so close he could almost taste the soft, sweet perfume you had always used in those empty days in the hospital when you were the only thing keeping him from going insane, his saving grace and now you were before him and against him and you had never hated him so much before.

"Oh really? And where, pray tell, should I be? Sticking it out in an empty hospital after the war has fucking ended in the hopes that you would write so much as once?!" you tried not to cry, tried not to scream as it hit you all over again that you had stayed there, long after you could have left, could have been done with all the blood and all the torture you put up with for him. War was hell and you had walked through it gladly, past turning back, past reason, because once he'd asked you to and now he only left you there to burn. You stepped back, pushing him hard with one hand and he caught you by the wrist, holding you in place, feeling your heart beating strong and fast and knowing you were real.

"It's not fucking safe here." he muttered under his breath and you wrenched your hand away, turning around and grinning like a madman, all your anger, all the rage that had been boiling in you for all these months alone finally rushing up through your head and into your mouth, thick and sour and burning like the hot summer sun inside you.

"I was in a fucking war! Don't you fucking dare tell me what's safe and what isn't!" now you were screaming, shoving him and swearing like the rest of the house couldn't hear you, or simply didn't matter. All that was gone now, only you and him and how much you could hurt him before he would push back. You couldn't help but think of when you'd loved him endlessly, you and him and, far away, the nurses knowing nothing, and now there was only hate.  

"Oh you were in the war, were you?!" and he was angry, angrier than you had seen him, even in those days when vengeful fate was crushing his broken body in the hospital bed a million miles away. He was burning, the fire behind his eyes brighter than you had ever seen it before, and you wondered if he had ever loved so furiously, so strong it brought the gods to tears and how beautiful he might have been if he had had a heart at all. "Funny, as far as I could see you were just some middle-class university girl playing at doctors and pretending she wasn't just kidding herself she was actually important to someone!"

And then the silence, the awful waiting as you looked at him, tried not to cry as the tears welled in your eyes and he had never been so lovely as he was when you could not see him at all. In the blur of all the pain he sent your way, you could almost kid yourself he was the man you'd thought he'd been. But he was ruthless, he was cold, and you saw it in his eyes that all those medals, all the stories, had made a sense you'd never seen before. The war was won by men like him and all the awful things they did.

"Get out." you could not find the voice within you that you had had before, only the hoarse whisper that shook and broke with that sad hate that you thought would last forever.

"It's my fucking pub!" he threw up his hands. You stood still another moment, breathing deep and shaking with the rage that coursed through you, livid as the summer heat and bright as all those nights alone when you wondered if you would ever see him again. You almost wished you hadn't.

"If I ever see you again, I'll fucking kill you, Thomas Shelby." You reached for the frame of the open door, looking out into the street as you heard him laugh, insidious and dreadful as the winter creeping in, behind you in the pub. Your voice was steady, your words heavy with a truth that both of you could see, and there was not a part of you that doubted that you would, you really would. This town had got to you, and you were not like you were before. Things were so very different. You couldn't help but take one last look at him, praying that he could see what he had made of you and knowing he had eyes only for himself.

"If you think I'm coming after you then you're very much mistaken, (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." and there was that emptiness in his eyes that made you think you weren't going to see him again, and you were just fine with that.

"So dark and brooding. You know, I think I might have loved you for that. But now? Right now I just think you're pathetic. Someday you'll come home and there'll be no one there anymore.  And I think you're fucking terrified. Come after me or don't, just know I won't be waiting." the last words dropped to a choked sob, a curse upon him and upon this whole damned town, pull you together as it was always made to do. Your uncle once told you that when you loved someone, really loved them, every road would lead you back to them, and now all you wanted to do was set fire to every last brick until the whole city went up in flames. If your fate was written, so help you you would find the book and not rest until you had pulled each last word from its cruel pages.

As you stormed out of the Garrison, teeth gritted to try and stifle the tears that pricked at your eyes, you slammed into someone. Apologising and trying to make them out through teary eyes, all you could see was a smudge of blonde hair, a slim figure and a pretty green dress. You rolled your eyes and slid past her. You had spent too long in the neighbourhood to ask her what she was doing here. You thought you'd rather not know.

You didn't entirely know where your footsteps were leading you - not to the church, with its false pity and God still falser, the secrets in the crypts that whispered to you your life was empty, loveless. Nor to the bakery, with your aunt's loving arms and the hatred you would leave at the door. You didn't want to leave it; you wanted to feel it coursing in your blood, hot and true like nothing you had felt for months. It was only when your world came whirling in a rush that you knew it turned at all, and it was only when your heart was pulsing to explode that you know it beat at all. All these months, thinking you were barely alive, but now you knew. You were, and you would remain forever, very much alive and very vengeful indeed.

________________________________________________________________________________

Without knowing it entirely, your footsteps lead instead to the Cut, the abandoned warehouses where you had used to hide in years gone by, waiting excitedly for your aunt and uncle as they came home from work in the early evening, baskets of bread and sweets for you as you ran out into their arms. Sitting on the riverbank, looking down into the distorted reflection of your face upon the water, you wondered if you could close your eyes and have it all gone. You had never asked for this, you had never wanted this. Boys, men, the endless heat of this godforsaken city, a grim horizon that you had never seen looming before you, and now here you were at the ends of the world as you knew it and you had nowhere left to go. Leave the town and leave it all unfinished the way you swore you never would again, or stay and fight and know that nothing would ever be quite as good as it was in that other, sweeter, eternity.

The water-line was low, and you slipped off your shoes and stockings, dipping your legs into the river as you shook your hair out of its plait and breathed out. It was calm here, calmer than anything else in this tumultuous city where every silence carried a hundred thousand words you couldn't begin to understand. France was simple, but France was far away, and you knew there was more than just a sea between you now.

You weren't going to cry - not here, not in front of all the world you could not see, waiting in the dockyards because work never stopped in this city of dust and ashes. Instead you threw a stone at the gentle grey water, felt the cool splash against your burning skin, tried to breathe when screaming came so easy, blinked and blinked again as your vision swam in watery uncertainty, felt the emotion draining out of you and fading away into the heat all around. You weren't prepared for this, any of this.

It was childish to expect that nothing would have changed, that you would come back and everything would be the way he had promised it would be from the window of the train as it carried him away. War was nothing more than a bleak and empty promise by men who knew no better way to kid themselves that they would be just fine, and his words could do no better. But what were you meant to do when he was there and he had been so beautiful, and now all you felt was shame. You hated him for everything he said and did, hated him for leaving and for coming back and for being there at all, but most of all you hated yourself for doing what you did. You knew even then that if love were ever real in this land of hate and death, then that was and would ever be the closest you would come.

Wrapped in your fantasies of love and life left behind, you didn't notice the footsteps behind you until they had stopped beside you on the muddy riverbank, the hem of the floral dress swirling in the gentle breeze.

"Rough day." the soft voice you knew, the voice that had got you into this mess because you didn't know when to walk away. There was a time to be brave and a time to call it quits, and you had missed that point a long time ago.

"Jesus Ada, give me some warning." you murmured, more to yourself than to her as she sat beside you. You'd known she would come after you - the whole town must know by now, a million voices in the streets with your name on everyone's lips and suddenly you knew what a fool you'd been to try and keep it secret. This was the last thing that was truly yours and now they knew, now the things you'd carried with you like the last chance you might someday get out of here, spilling out into the river as you grabbed at memories of the way he'd kissed you as he'd left you, the way he'd loved you when you'd thought he really did. This was the worst thing that could happen, and this was the way you dealt with it. You didn't think you had the life within you to run away again.

"I was worried about yer." she was looking at you, but you couldn't quite brig yourself to meet her eyes. Beautiful eyes, so deep and brown, nothing like her brother's at all. She didn't look liker her brother: she looked kind. She looked like she cared, and you knew that was the most dangerous thing of all.

"The whole world is worried about me." You sighed slowly, gazing out across the river at the bird wheeling around the tired beams of the warehouses not so far away. You were tired, tired of secrets and tired of your tiny little life, so big until right now. You'd spent so long thinking you'd never be big enough to fill the aching void of all the lives that you could live, and now the walls were pressing in and suddenly you were big and bad and filled with righteous anger. You were tired of Shelby's and tired of Birmingham and tired of the world beyond the grimy walls because nothing you could ever do would shout louder than the fact that even when you ran away you had never left at all. Everything you did was kept within this damned neighbourhood, and you thought it wasn't any wonder they murdered as they did, because here was Earth and here was Hell, and Heaven was not there at all.

You chuckled bitterly, tears stinging at the back of your eyes, hot with summer rage and the aching in your hands that longed to hit him for what he had done to you and longed for the justice that would come after. The man you loved, he would kill you for sure, for these were men who ruled a world of blood and death and your sweet Tommy was their god. You curled you hand into a tight fist around the smooth rock you held, and threw it into the water just to watch it sink.

"I didn't know." Ada's quiet voice shook you, brought you to her as it always did, and you turned to face her, to see the pity as it overwhelmed her pretty face. She pitied you, the child of pain and fate, she had seen what she had seen and she pitied you most of all, and for all these dreadful things you cried at least for that. What beautiful sins had her brother done that made her so unhappy, made him so damn cold?

"Because I never told you." you shook your head at her. You never told her, you never told a soul, because this was yours and yours alone. Yours to dream and yours to cherish, the one last thing about this goddamn town that no one else could know, the most beautiful moments of your whole life because sometimes you could close your eyes and pretend that he didn't exist at all, that it was all inside your head and the world would never have to know. No one would ever have to know.

"I wish yer'd told me. I could've-" she took your hands desperately, clasping them between her own and begging you, scanning you over like she had never known you at all. You wondered if she really blamed you for never telling her about you, about her brother. She didn't, she wouldn't; she had her secrets and you had yours and the rest of the world had its own, and no one seemed to know anyone these days. Not really, not anymore.

"The damage is done. There's nothing left to say." you slipped your hands out of her hands, smiled at her sadly as she grasped at words to say. There were no words to say, you'd said them all. Your words were crashing in the main room of the Garrison, filling the air until there was not air to breathe, and here the world was empty and you thought she might just catch a glimpse of your darkest soul if she looked hard enough, if she were looking hard enough. With shaking hands you took a cigarette out of your pocket, lit it and took a deep pull and passed it to her, lighting another for yourself.

"You 'aven't said anything at all." she pressed, and you knew she wanted to know a little more, and you also knew she deserved to know a lot more, but truly you weren't ready. She deserved the truth but no one got the truth, not when lies were so much more beautiful and so much more kind. The truth was only for those who had the wealth and confidence to not care what the truth was at all, for soldiers in the trenches and for politicians in their stony towers. It was 1919 and the truth was obsolete.

"I don't think I ever will." your voice was dreamy, and your heart far away. You thought you might have dropped it somewhere in the river that last morning, poured it into your coffee and left it there in the square as his face was already fading. What need had you of a heart if he would not let you love him as you did, if he tore it out and left you bleeding every time he looked your way with those cold dead eyes you loved more than life. There were no words to describe Tommy Shelby, and no feelings with which to do him justice, and even now your petty anger paled before him. It was like shooting at the tides and trying to stop them coming back and back and back to pull you out to sea. At this you drew your legs up out of the water, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around yourself, a little colder than before, despite the bright heat of the morning, a little less certain. You turned away again and blew a trail of soft, sad smoke over the water, and for a long moment there was only the silence of the river and the secrets in between.

"You loved him, didn't yer." It was quiet, almost not there at all, and you caught it through the lull of the water like the whisper of some dream slipping past you as you woke, and like a dream it stopped you in your thoughts, wrapping around your throat and keeping you from saying what you wanted to say. No, of course not. A summer fling, but it had lasted so much more than just one summer. A handful of months, a short eternity, and you thought you might have loved him all your life if you had only known his name. Certainly you had loved him since the moment he had smiled at you, the moment you had seen his eyes, the moment you had left him. You had fallen in love with him a million times, and you had loved him a little more every time.

"Who can ever say. I went to war, Ada. I did what soldiers do. I do what I do to keep myself alive." He kept you sane every single day, he saved you every time you saw his face. He had saved so many, and you had let him save you too, and that was all there was to say. And suddenly you were wondering if all the others fell so sweet, all those pretty girls and angels who he'd write to every day, he promised. You wondered how many knew he never would, and if it made any difference to them. You wished more than anything that you could be the sort of girl who kissed and never told, who could turn around and walk away with all your heart inside of your chest instead of leaving little shattered pieces along the way. Memories of you and him that you thought you must have dreamed up in your lonely mind, because you knew at least he didn't love you know.

"Are you alive?" she frowned at you and you really didn't know what to say. You'd stopped being alive a long time ago, and Tommy Shelby had absolutely nothing to do with it. They used to tell you that it was all some grim lottery, that some would die and some would live and some would spend the rest of their life dying, but no one survived this bloody war, only the horses. Who lived, who died, and everyone died and such was the world and such was the war and such would it always be. There'd be another war and more people would die and you would go on breathing and you'd like it a little less every day, because that was the way you did things when you were only made to die and all the world lived on alone.

"Are you?" you quipped back and put out your cigarette on the jagged stone that jutted out over the river, a road of stone but mostly dirt, tied with blood that ran like veins down the streets, the silvery threads of Tommy Shelby's spiderweb of crime. You turned to her and saw her breathe in and out - how nice to say that she was human when all you were was this tangled mass of broken bones and no soul left at all - and rested your hand on her shoulder to take in all the pallid skin, the emptiness behind. You felt the need to feel every inch of her and know that she was not a name like that sad boy you'd tried to love, she was yours, forever and ever and always, and she wasn't going anywhere.  

"Doesn't matter about me right now, does it." she took a piece of your hair and twirled it in her fingers, leaning your forehead against hers and sighing against your skin, so close that you could taste the sweet perfume on her neck and the smoke that lingered on her tongue, like waking up beside her and knowing she was yours. "I should've told yer. Might've saved us all this trouble."

"It's not your job to keep your brothers in line, Ada." you placed your hand over hers, You were right: it wasn't her job. It was her job to find a nice boy, an honest boy with no blood on his hands, and fall in love with him and get married and get away from here, because no one else seemed to do that here. Something about her told you that she would be the first to have all this and more, and something else told you that she already had. Not for the first time you had the unmistakable feeling that there was so much in her you didn't know. "I appreciate the effort, but I made this mistake. I think I have to figure this one out myself."

"I'm here." she squeezed your hand, twining her fingers with yours and bringing your hand down to your lap. She pulled away a little to look into your eyes, send you a sympathetic gaze that meant nothing more than she would be here when all the world had burned away and nothing else was certain, because she knew that you would do the same, no matter what you did, no matter what her brother had done.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." you grinned lopsidedly at her, taking the chance to stand up and pull her up beside you, smoothing down her dress and leading you down the alleyway with a hand on the small of your back.

"At least let me bring you to the Garrison. Meet the rest of the family, make sure there 'en't any other nasty surprises, eh?" she gave you those big brown eyes that she knew made you melt, and you sighed dramatically, already knowing that you would give in.

"Fine. Just a drink, mind. Think I've 'ad enough of boys for just about the rest of my life." you rubbed your eyes wearily, half to make her laugh and the other half to make her look away from the bright tears that had not quite gone away since the moment you sat down, brushing them away quickly as if you thought she couldn't see them. She caught your hand, swinging it in hers and pressing a short kiss against the back laughingly. Check one, see you cry. You realised that it had been the first time. You realised how drastically okay it felt. 

And there she went ahead of you, and your hand was in her hand, and it was enough to make any pretty girl forget the world of Tommy Shelby, but not you. Not you. 

Taglist: 

@actorinfluence @captivatedbycillianmurphy @stressedandbandobessed7771

[hypermanga]

Alive again (Thranduil x reader)

Requested by: @anilynsworld

Request:  Hi, I read several of your fics written from requests and I decided to try requesting one. I would be really thankful if you Please, yes. I would like a Thranduil x Reader one, A new young female elf arrives in Mirkwood and wishes hospitality from the King. She's immediately presented to the King who deeply falls in love wiht her at first sight. She has long golden blond hair, wavy. Light pink doe eyes, freckles, luscious pink lips. She's thin yet she has generous curves.

Word count: 1385

~~~

You wandered Mirkwood aimlessly, your feet aching and begging for some rest.

What time was it?

What day was it?

Were you near the palace?

You couldn't tell any of those things, only that your head was spinning and it felt as if you were going to collapse at any second.

The image of your comrades, well, your past comrades formed in front of you, saluting as if nothing had happened, the pack of orcs had not attacked you while you were dining nor had killed them all except for you.

Their ghosts were to hunt you for a long time, that was for sure, and thanks to the hallucinations, the impact of their deaths was far from disappearing. Crumbling down to the floor, you started crying, begging for help to whoever was to stumble upon your figure.

Waking up from your fainting state, you pushed your blonde hair out of the way, only to see a path "Wha? That wasn't here before" You mumbled, picking up your bag in the process "Please, lead me somewhere safe" With this silent pray falling from your lips, you started the newfound way.

The castle came to view minutes later, although it could have been perfectly hours, again time perception was something that wasn't very accurate in these woods. It stood high with pride, the waterfalls echoing in the background, and its water creating marvelous patterns. It was definitely quite a sight to see.

The guards that were on the gate turned their heads to you, no expression in their faces "State your business" One of them told you, making you wince at the cold tone "My group was killed off by a pack of orcs...I seek shelter from the king" You showed them your ears, which gave away your race, trying to spark some sympathy. After a small talk, it seemed one of the guards had a little bit of humanity and opened the door "You will be presented to the king immediately, then he shall decide of your fate" Thanking them quietly, you walked inside.

If the castle was beautiful on the outside, the inside was just breathtaking: light emanated from different windows, creating wells of light on the different platforms that were connected by stairs.

You were so breath taken from it that you didn't notice the set of stairs that directed you to the king, making you stumble rather clumsily. In. Front. Of. The. King.

How graceful (Y/N)!

"She was wandering outside of the main gate, my lord" One of the guards stated, "She says she needs shelter" Looking up from your fallen state, your eyes fell upon the king.

His presence invaded the whole room, exuding a magnificence only a king could display; but his face showed boredom, lack of emotion "Yes my King: the group I was in was ambushed by a pack of orcs...I was the lone survivor by sheer luck, and I've been wandering these woods since" Bowing, you retold the terrible events "I will do anything! I will be a maid, a stable woman or even the fighting dummy!" Pleading, you tried to not look at the icy stare of the king, thanking your hair which shielded you from it.

Silence fell upon the room, creating a tense ambient, especially for you, you didn't know if you were going to be able to survive if you were to be kicked out of the palace.

Thranduil gazed down at the she-elf that was brought up by the guards, studying her features, or what he could make out: long and wavy blond hair accompanied by a rather clumsy behavior.

But what surprised him the most were your eyes, which had a pink hue to it that made them rather hypnotizing: when they had rested upon his face he had felt a spark, a spark that had not been there for such a long time that it was almost foreign to him.

"I will give you shelter, in exchange of you working for me in the palace as one of the maids. I want absolute perfection, you’re walking on thin ice, the maids will guide you through the learning process" He wanted you to be afraid of him, he didn't want any feelings, especially those of love at first sight, but as you smiled him back, thanking him again for his choice, he felt his heart burst from his chest.

~~~~~ Time skip to some months later ~~~~~~

Thranduil felt alive once again. Since his wife had perished, there weren’t those many moments to cherish, yet you’d brought with you a sense of happiness to the kingdom, and to him of course. 

He’d made some conversation with you at every chance he had, sometimes taking you away from your duties just to talk in the gardens for a while, which you had to thank him for, as it was nice to have somebody to talk to. After some of these talks you’d seen past his façade, and saw him for what he really was: a leader that what he really wanted the best for his people.

It was something bizarre, but what topped it off were the comments the other maids dropped purposely behind your back.

"(Y/N) is sure gaining the affection of the king"

"I want to know her seduction secrets"

"Do you think she may have gotten in bed with him?"

You knew that there was no more than the intention to talk or ask you for advice, but still, it hurt that the ones you spent the most time with thought of you this way despite you being nice and polite to all of them.

As you readied yourself for another busy day, your head wandered to what the king's criteria had been for choosing your safety. 

Had it all been sheer luck? It couldn't have been that easy, and even though you were walking on thin ice, you had to ask it personally to the king.

"Ah, (Y/N) " You nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve "I am deeply sorry for abandoning my duties, Aran, but I have a question that needs to be answered" "Inquisitive, are we? Go on" He motioned, eyeing your face "My lord, why did you want to keep me? I am deeply grateful, but I believed it would have taken much more than just the information of the guards to let me in" Because you didn't think you would have the courage to meet his eyes, you didn't notice he had risen from his throne, his robes trailing behind.

"Meet me in the balcony during the Feast of Starlight " He tilted your chin up with one of his slim fingers, closing most of the distance in between you so much he could see each and every one of the freckles that adorned your face "And then you will get all the answers you may need" Blushing madly, you quickly nodded, running off the throne room.

After this particular encounter, your head was all over the place: what was up with his behavior, his closeness to you, and that head tilting? 

Sure, Thranduil was an attractive elf, but why would he set his eyes in some commoner? 

Guess you'd have to wait for the Feast.

~~~~~~~~~~~ Cue to the Ball ~~~~~~~~~~

Standing in a floor-length gown in front of a mirror was something you hadn't imagined for you in a lifetime. Well, not even yesterday, when you thought you would be working alongside your "polite" and not nosy at all companions.

There had been a letter in your bed, stating that you were to be another guest at the feast, requested by the King himself. You were flattered, to say the least, but mostly nervous.

What were you to expect from Thranduil? After all those meetups and walks, it felt different to be around him: first you wouldn’t even glance at him, in fear that it was a test, but as he opened up about his past, it really felt as if you’d built a bond with the king and maybe perhaps something more that you wouldn’t dare to recognize. 

The Feast was an event you had only heard of, being part of it felt surreal. Descending the stairs, your dress hugging your figure perfectly, you gulped unsure of what composture or etiquette was the proper one to not make a fool of oneself, but all the thoughts faded away when you noticed that most of the gazes had landed on you.

The first you noticed was Tauriel , who offered you a smile, encouraging to go on. Most of the other faces were unrecognizable, just Legolas, who was his usual composed self  "Ada" Motioning for the stairs, you saw Thranduil quickly turn, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and his lips parting in delight.

He approached you, holding his hand out to you “ My lord “ You wanted to bow down, but he stopped you “By all means, call me Thranduil” He smiled, earning one from you in return before he accompanied you to the dancefloor, ignoring all the jealousy that twinkled in the eyes of the other maids.

He had presented you to high elves, introducing you as his Royal Advisor, which had caught you off-guard the first couple of times he’d said it, earning a shake on your shoulders courtesy of Thranduil. For a moment it seemed as he didn’t have any troubling memories, he looked genuinely happy, which made you happy too.

After dancing with a couple of elves who had asked, you decided to retire for the balcony. What needed to be asked, had to be asked now, at risk of forgetting of it if Thranduil asked for a dance.

“Now, what is it that has been troubling you, dear?” “Well...It’s just” You tried to measure the words that were to come out “As I once stated, I don’t understand why would you want me, an outsider from who you don’t know anything except what your guards told. I am still deeply thankful for your decision, but I still can’t put my finger on it”  He looked intently in your eyes before he broke into a warm smile “Did I say something funny?” Now you were truly confused, and somewhat embarrassed “Do you see all these stars?” He started, making you look up to the star-filled sky. It looked absolutely stunning “All this peace... This happiness... That's how I feel every time I see you" 

Your cheeks had a pink hue, matching your dress and eyes “But I thought-” “Hush, little one, let me explain” He continued, just as sweetly “Before I met you, I thought I would never fall in love again. But the day you stumbled at, well, my feet” He made you chuckle, remembering the scene you’d caused “I was willing to take the risk of letting you in because you made me feel alive, something I had not felt in quite a long time” His hand rested upon your cheek “And for that, I’m deeply thankful, Meleth nin” He closed the distance between you in a sweet kiss, just as the sky made all the stars shine bright.

---

I really hope you liked it, and sorry for the delay @anilynsworld , but I had a bit of a writer’s block, also I apologize if Thranduil is a little bit OOC, I’d never written anything with him before so it was a new experience. Anyways, Hope you enjoyed it <3

MASTERLIST

Requests are open!

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (CH.11)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight  Chris/Jill. Rated M for eventual smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 11: The Silver Wolf

Claire paid the taxi driver and got out. She paused long enough on the curb to look around the busy streets of downtown Raccoon City. Traffic was heavy. It was rush hour time and everyone was heading home for the evening. Because of the short winter days, daylight was already succumbing to oncoming nightfall. It had been a bit warmer today with the sun showing itself, but Claire knew once it set, the temperature would drop to freezing fast. She bundled up in her parka and headed south down the sidewalk.

Crowded bodies filled the walkways, some walking south, others walking north or crossing the street when the light was red. She ignored the calls of the people around her, the sloshing of melting snow under tires, and the honking horns of rolling traffic. Carolers sang nearby and a Santa Claus rang a bell outside a store for donations. Most of this went right over Claire, her mind a maelstrom of thoughts and worries. She wondered what she would have to do next.

The younger Redfield had left a note for her brother claiming she had left to go babysit and would be home later this evening and would call if she had any problems. She only hoped that she would actually be able to return home tonight and that the blackmailing STARS Captain didn’t plan on keeping her longer than intended…or getting her killed.

Claire turned off from the sidewalk and entered a parking lot for a strip mall. She didn’t pay much attention to the stores. One was a clothing outlet and another was a bakery. The college student crossed the parking lot, heading for the row of bare landscaping trees in the center. About halfway there, the low rumbling of a car creeped up behind her. She tensed and quickly recognized the glossy, sleek luxury car. She halted, glaring at the tinted windows. Oh, how she didn’t want to do this…

With one last look around her surroundings, Claire opened the passenger door and entered the car. Inside, she was greeted with warmth from the heater, and the smell of leather and faint cologne. Clenching her jaw, she looked to the driver’s seat and unsurprisingly was greeted with a familiar leer.

“Miss Redfield, it’s dangerous to get into a stranger’s vehicle.” Wesker was still dressed in his STARS uniform and must’ve just got off from his shift. Chris would’ve just ended his as well.

Her glare didn’t falter. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that you can follow directions. And punctual.

That irked her. “So?”

He wasn’t fazed by her tone, merely more amused. “Good work on the note, dear heart. And the splendid cover story of babysitting for William. You’re a clever one indeed. A woman after my own heart.”

“What heart?” she growled.

His dark smirk only grew.

She didn’t want to know how he knew the specifics. It didn’t matter anyway. It just confirmed that she was indeed trapped in his web, forever under his control. At least until a window of opportunity presented itself to her. She hadn’t given up yet. Redfields don’t quit…

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with. What are you making me do this time?”

A familiar chime rang out. Wesker, still parked in the lot, pulled out his pager, a smirk growing on his face. “You’ll see, my dear.”

She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Actually, yes, she could. After a long, boring phone call from Colonel Sergei asking for a status report on her “investigation”, Ada was summoned to NEST by Wesker. She didn’t mind dealing with him or William, they were both fun and interesting in their own ways, especially together. It was Annette that she didn’t want to get involved with. The woman had it out for Ada and put a damper on her mood any chance she got.

As soon as she made it to the visitor’s entrance to NEST, the agent was frisked down by security and forced to go through not only a decontamination spray but a programmed security scan by a computer. Needless to say, some of her gadgets were taken away. Miffed, Ada griped at security personnel as she waited for Annette to arrive and escort her. Why couldn’t it have been William? He’s a lot more fun…

“Hey! That isn’t a toy,” Ada snapped, watching a guard play with her lipstick. “You want your head blown off? Jesus.”

“With all these weapons, how are we to know you aren’t planning to assassinate Dr. Birkin?” another guard asked.

“Oh, totally. I was summoned here by Albert and that would be such a genius move on my part.” Her biting sarcasm was one of her more underrated virtues...sarcasm was a virtue, right? At least in her book. Better than having none, too.

“We’re just doing what we were instructed to do, Miss Wong,” the female greeter said with a nervous smile. “We’re sorry for the inconvenience.”

“You cannot always expect to get a red carpet arrival, Miss Wong.”

That voice. There she was. The wicked witch. Ada smiled sweetly and turned around to face the Queen of NEST.

Annette smirked sourly. “Waving around your passes from Lord Spencer and Colonel Sergei? They have no power here. This is my husband’s domain.”

“Annette, so good to see you again. Could you please take me to William? Kinda have to. Albert’s…insistence.”

Annette slowly nodded, her eyes flicking over to the security guards who had Ada’s confiscated items. “She is to get all of her supplies back when she departs. Handle them with the utmost care, she is a guest. We do have one other guest coming that will need to be searched, and he has a signed note of what needs to stay on him. Page me when he arrives.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Annette motioned to Ada after getting a visitor’s ID wristband for her. “Follow me.”

“Yay...”

The two women traversed NEST using their ID wristbands. Ada immediately noticed they were not going anywhere near William’s laboratory. They bypassed the underground facility and went into the sewers, using catwalks and following marked paths.

“Gonna take me out with the trash?” Ada quipped.

“Maybe one of these days.”

“What’s your problem with me anyway?”

Annette side-glanced her with a frown. “You’re a mole. I don’t trust you. I don’t care what Albert says.”

“Aw c’mon, Annie. Live a little.”

“Don’t call me that.”

They took a concrete tunnel that had multiple turns and doors, and Annette brought them to a red door. Ada hadn’t seen any other people, but knew they weren’t that far from NEST or the waste treatment plant.

The female Dr. Birkin rapped on the door. “Will, honey, it’s me.”

The door gave a hollow click, unlocked, and then opened. The King of NEST allowed them entry and closed and locked the door behind them. The room was a conference room of some kind. A long table surrounded with chairs took up most of it. An unused projector hung above, with one wall draped with a white screen. The table was clean except for a cup of coffee, a closed briefcase, a laptop, and a file with its contents of papers spread out by one chair. There were a few video feeds on one wall showing hallways and tunnels to and from NEST and the waste treatment facility. Attached to the conference room through a doorway was another room sporting a kitchen and vending machines.

“Ada, what a pleasant surprise,” William greeted sweetly, but soon noticed the glare from his wife and cleared his throat. “Please sit. Coffee?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I’ll just get my instructions and be on my way. Albert said it was time sensitive.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

“You sound funny, Will. You got a cold or something?”

“Yes,” William answered as he shifted through the briefcase on the table, “But I created an immune boost overnight and took it a few hours ago and feel much better!”

Ada smiled. What a nerd…an ingenious, ruthless nerd…but still…

“Ahh, here we are,” William stated, pulling an envelope and handing it to the agent. “Have fun with that…”

“Thanks, hun,” she replied with a purr, deliberately smiling flirtatiously and ignoring Annette’s lightning eyes. “I’ll take my leave. Don’t worry, Annie. I know the way out. Ciao.”

William gawked as he waved her goodbye, but soon took notice of Annette’s lightning eyes now directed at him. “What?!”

Ada chuckled to herself as she swung the door shut behind her, leaving henpecked William defenseless with his wife.

William flipped through his notes, backtracking and confirming the results displayed on his laptop. He paused long enough to take a drink of his lukewarm coffee. He didn’t react to it, having been used to drinking coffee at all temperatures. His foot tapped restlessly as he worked. Annette should’ve been back by now, although William wasn’t sure if maybe he missed an important detail to her ranting earlier when he had tuned her out.

Ada this, Ada that, Albert this and that, blah blah blah. But there was something about Sherry’s Christmas present, fruit cake, a meeting with John at the Spencer estate, and…? Hmm, surely it wasn’t anything important.

The Umbrella Chief of Research paused long enough to actually think about it. He was in the private briefing room of the neighboring waste facility next door from NEST, waiting for Albert and Claire. Ada had been gone a couple of hours already with her assignment. So then what was taking his wife so long from going over the Plant 43 report?

Wait…didn’t she say something about another person showing up here to meet with Albert?

That’s what it was! But who was it? He really had picked the wrong time to zone out from Anne’s constant chatter.

Oh, look at that! Subjects 132 and 109 were a close enough match that G was able to reproduce flawlessly! And at a 23 percent time increase over Subjects 76 and 55! My genetics research is never wrong!

William rapped away on his laptop keys ecstatically until a knock sounded at the door behind him. Oh, right. Annette. That had to be her.

“Will, honey? It’s me.”

Indeed it was, and it was the code that everything was safe. William scooted his chair back and rose. He went over to the door and unlocked it. When he opened it, he remained in the doorway to see who this “other person” was that was supposed to meet with Albert.

He took one look and laughed. “Are you shitting me? Go away.”

Despite his wife’s protest, William went to shut the door in their faces, but a boot came in the threshold and stopped the door dead. William tried to shove, but the mercenary easily pushed the door open, making the G-Virus creator slide with the door like he weighed nothing.

“Fine…I guess I’ll let you in,” Will growled.

“I see you haven’t changed, comrade.”

“Uh, that’s Doctor Birkin to you.”

Nikolai Zinoviev smirked and looked at Anne. “Your husband. He’s like little angry puppy around me always. All bark, no bite, yeah?”

Annette sighed, half-rolling her eyes. “Please, Mr. Zinoviev. Don’t get him started.”

William crossed his arms with a huff. “I don’t need to bite. I’ve got people to do that for me.”

The mercenary’s smirk didn’t falter, and William grew even more miffed. What in the world did Albert need this jerk for? They all knew he was best buds with Sergei. His code name was “Silver Wolf” if William recalled, and he was a sergeant in the Colonel’s Umbrella Biohazard Countermeasure Service. A joke regiment, as far as he was concerned.

“Oh, right. Like comrade Wesker? I’m curious what you would do without him around, Doctor Birkin.”

“Brains always beats brawn, Nikky.”

The UBCS sergeant snatched William by the shirt and picked him up off the floor. “Well, it’s good thing I have both, no? And comrade Wesker, he has both, yeah? You, on other hand, just very big brain and mouth, and puny body.”

As they glared at each other, Annette pulled a pistol from her lab coat and tapped it on her thigh in plain sight of the two men. “Release my husband, Mr. Zinoviev.”

The Russian mercenary softly chuckled. “I am only having little fun. Everyone knows it is death wish to touch hair on his head.” He dropped William and patted him on the shoulder. “Ease up, Dr. Birkin. I am friend to you today.”

“Coffee, Mr. Zinoviev?” Annette asked when William and Nikolai sat down across from each other at the table.

“I accept your gracious offer. Thank you, Mrs. Birkin.”

“She’s also Dr. Birkin,” William said with a glare.

He looked away from the mercenary just long enough to page Wesker. He should have ended his shift at the RPD by now and would be picking up Claire.

“My apologies.”

Annette slipped into the other room to make their “guest’s” beverage. When she returned, she handed Nikolai his cup and sat down next to her husband. The silence that settled was stuffy and uncomfortable, but William and Nikolai only glared at each other.

Anne sighed. “Will, it’s not like you to be so quiet.”

“I don’t trust him.”

Nikolai’s lips slightly rose on one side, but he didn’t react much more than that. He looked the same since William saw him last. Still the short silver hair and steely dark gray eyes. He wasn’t dressed in his UBCS uniform though, just civilian clothes with a light jacket.

“He’s a friend of Albert’s, honey. All of his friends are shady assholes.”

“You’re definitely right about tha-hey!”

Annette smiled playfully his way before her pager beeped in her coat. She pulled it out and looked at the message. “There’s Li. He’s got a problem with the newest batch of MA-125 embryos. I’ll go handle it. Albert better get here soon. You and I have so much to catch up on.”

“He should be on his way, dear.”

His wife glared at the silent Russian mercenary. “Mr. Zinoviev, it would be in your best interest to listen to my husband and to keep yourself from antagonizing him. This is a warning.”

Nikolai looked to Annette as she rose from her seat, and the two kept each other’s gaze for a long, tense moment. The UBCS sergeant nodded with a polite smile. “Of course, Dr. Birkin. I’ll be on my best behavior. After all,” he turned his crafty eyes back to the Golgotha creator. “I wouldn’t want to piss off “big brother.”

Annette left the briefing room. William felt trapped and exposed at the same time. The silence ate at him once more. Nikolai looked around the room for a moment but soon his eyes landed back on William and stayed. The Chief of Research fidgeted in his seat, uneasy. He picked up his pencil and played with it, thinking.

I swear to God, Al, if you took a detour to stick your dick in the Redfield girl, I’m gonna kick your ass.

A long bout of silence longer, and William couldn’t take it anymore. He had to talk.

“So…I never asked before…How did you and Albert meet?”

Nikolai shrugged. “A few years ago, he and his sister arrived to Rockfort Island on business to deal with Ashford and his associates. An internal affair investigation led by the Umbrella Intelligence Division. At time, my rivalry with particular Umbrella Special Service agent, codenamed HUNK, had landed-

“HUNK? What kind of codename is that supposed to be?” Nikolai wasn’t amused about being interrupted and when he opened his mouth to continue, William just interrupted him again. “Is he really a hunk?”

The Russian mercenary sighed, agitated. “It had landed me in hot water to put mildly. It had nothing to do with them, but Wesker still pulled strings to lift charges and actually got me promoted afterward. So now we help each other from time to time.”

William wiggled his pencil in boredom to make it look like it was made of rubber. “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve known Albert since we were kids! We were both raised under James Marcus as his proteges.”

The UBCS sergeant rolled his eyes. “I know. Say…didn’t Dr. Marcus die under “mysterious” circumstances?” he grinned.

The G-Virus creator snorted. “No! He died under completely normal circumstances. Poor old bastard. He was like a dad to me.”

Watching him die at my feet was one of the best days of my life and I cannot wait for the same to happen with Spencer.

Nikolai chuckled. “Yeah, sure.”

“Y’know, what does that tell you about your friendship with ‘ol Serggy? He obviously left you hanging in your time of need in that wretched place. Al would never do that to me. Just saying…”

“Conflict of interests, comrade,” Nikolai stated evenly, slightly narrowing his eyes. “He wasn’t allowed to.” The UBCS sergeant soon relaxed, shrugging. “Besides, Sergei and I are close enough friends to understand that we can and will sell each other out if right opportunity presents itself. Especially on his end. Same with Wesker and myself. What fantasy are you living in that Wesker isn’t using you, comrade? You’re obviously using him…protection mostly, as I have feeling you’d be dead already otherwise. Your arrogance and ambitions stem directly from fact that you know “big brother” protects you. Otherwise, you are coward.” Nikolai leered his way. “Just saying…”

William bristled but visually only offered a half-smirk. “Of course we use each other. I didn’t say that we didn’t, Nikky. But unlike your loyalty to your old friend Sergei, ours cannot be bought. It’s more of a “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine” sort of situation...without any actual scratching.”

Nikolai laughed hollowly. “Anything can be bought, Dr. Birkin. Anything. You of all people know that. You blackmail this city for your own agendas. You don’t look it, but I know you’ve killed just as many people as Wesker has…sold them out, back-stabbed them, or even used them in experiments. Quit kidding self. You and Wesker are no different. The right offer just hasn’t been made.”

Albert had once told him that Nikolai had the potential to become more of a threat than Sergei. And now he knew why. He saw things differently than the Colonel. And his mind worked like Al’s in more ways than one.

William glared at the UBCS sergeant hard, bitter. Nikolai kept his gaze with his own sharp eyes, a sneer lurking on his lips. William subconsciously clenched the pencil in his hand hard. But nothing could be said between the two men before the door to the briefing room swung open. William should have looked, in case it was danger, as Annette had obviously forgotten to lock it again, but he and Nikolai didn’t move. That is, until a distinct voice broke them from their fuming trance. The subtleties of the tone told him that his partner was slightly annoyed, but anyone else would have just heard the business-like resonance.

“Nikolai. You and me. Let’s talk.”

William smugly smirked and waved goodbye with his fingers as Nikolai rose from his chair. Unaffected by neither Wesker’s tone or William’s snide, the Russian mercenary snorted and left the table.

“Good talking, Nikky!”

“William.”

The Golgotha creator hunkered and innocently looked his best friend’s way. He didn’t miss the glare meant for him behind the shades, but he motioned to the beautiful girl at his side. “Look after Miss Redfield. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Sure, pal.”

When Nikolai stopped to look at Claire, grey eyes both quite interested and wary, William didn’t miss the curl in Albert’s lip as he stepped in between them, motioning to the door. Nikolai took the hint immediately and left the room without looking back. The look Wesker gave Claire before following him out may have looked harmless enough, but William knew what it really meant. He gave the Redfield girl a gentle smile, offering her a seat next to him. After all, she didn’t realize that Albert was never going to let her go.

She relaxed a little when it was just the two of them and sat down with him.

“Coffee, my dear?” he asked. William didn’t like most people and never had concern over their lives or feelings. There were only a select few he genuinely cared for in his busy life, the rest was only an act, if he even bothered with it at all. But he found himself growing fond of Claire more and more, though wasn’t sure whether it was over Claire herself or the fact that his partner was unhealthily obsessed with her.

With a surrendering sigh, her forehead connected with the table and it made him smile. Both, definitely both.

Claire ignored William’s whistling tune as he made her a cup of coffee in the side room. When she heard the ceramic mug hit the tabletop, she raised her face off the table to see the fresh brew steaming nearby. She quietly took it with a quick nod of thanks to the eccentric researcher.

As she quietly blew her lips over the rim, her eyes carefully examined the room she was in. It was a conference room of some kind way down here in the sewers near the big, creepy Umbrella facility. She noticed the variety of things William had by his chair: a briefcase, a closed laptop, and a closed file with some pages poking out messily.

She took a sip, her eyes finally hovering on the door. “Who was that silver-haired guy?”

William, antsy, shifted nearly constantly in his chair next to her. Wesker wasn’t kidding. The guy was a fiend of restlessness. “Huh?” She must have jerked him from his own thoughts. “Oh, Nikolai? He’s an asshole, don’t worry about him.”

“Do you know why Wesker brought me here?”

“Yes,” William answered, and patted the briefcase sitting on the table near him. “All in here. But I’ll let him go over it with you. I’m out as soon as he gets back.”

Claire grabbed his arm hard, instinctively putting pressure where Chris had taught her for self-defense. “Don’t leave me alone with him!”

“Ow! Retract the claws, sweetheart! You’ll be fine! He doesn’t bite…all the time.”

She glared his way and squeezed harder.

“Ow, I was just joking! Why are you redheads so mean to me?!”

Claire let him go with a huff. She fumed to herself while William rubbed his arm, pouting. Once she calmed down, she looked at him. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I just…want out of this.”

William sighed. “No harm, no foul. And I understand. Unfortunately, that is between you and Al. I can’t help you with that. But he likes you enough…just do what he says and get it over with. Like I said before, he’s giving you a chance that he's never given anyone.”

Claire lowered her eyes to her hot coffee. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

They were both quiet for a long moment, and then William gently offered a change in subject. “My daughter adores you. She raved about you nonstop the other day.”

Claire smiled. “Sherry was a doll. It was a real treat meeting her.”

William grinned proudly. “She’s super smart, like her parents. And real self-sufficient.”

“She seemed lonely to me.”

William frowned. “Yeah…our lives are kinda hectic. Our work keeps us away most of the time. She has a hard time making friends, and well, Anne and I just never got around to giving her a sibling. And her godfather doesn’t have any children for her to play with. We tried pets, but that was a no-go. Dogs take too much work and Anne is allergic to cats. I got a baby alligator for her one time though.” William hesitated, thinking hard while tapping his chin. “What happened to that thing?”

“Do you and Annette not have other family? Parents, siblings? No cousins for Sherry to play with?”

The Umbrella researcher flinched, but he did so in a way that Claire barely caught it. “Nah. Anne’s parents and older sister don’t talk to her and don’t live here. Me? I was an orphan. Umbrella has programs that help orphans and foster children into new homes to put it simply. I was taken in by a man named James. Went to a private school. Even though I was a one-of-a-kind child prodigy, I…got bullied a lot. Was there for about a year until James took in Albert as well. We were in the same boat, so to speak…orphans with nowhere else to go.” Will half-smiled as he thought back to those memories, and Claire sensed sadness there. “Al wasn’t very friendly at first. I mean, he’s never really been friendly to anyone except me and that took quite some time. Poor kid had been through hell. I was his punching bag for a bit, but mostly he kept to himself. I tried everything to be his friend, but that just made things worse. We fought a lot. One day I accidentally destroyed a project of his. I tried to rebuild it with what I had on hand and...well...it didn’t turn out so great. So, I’m expecting the usual knuckle sandwich he likes to feed me when he shows up, but he doesn’t. He just...laughs. I actually made the little bastard laugh! After that, we were instant best friends, brothers. I never had to worry about bullies again. We raced through school and college, as we were both prodigies. But we also went through absolute hell together. Umbrella offered us positions in research and development of medicines. And the rest is history.”

Claire took in the story, moved in a way she never thought to expect. She had known from Sherry that Wesker was a researcher as well, but now she wanted to know what made him become Captain of the Special Tactics and Rescue Service, of all things. “So, if Wesker was a researcher like you, why isn’t he one now? Why become a cop?”

“He’s still a researcher part-time...among other things.” Will cleared his throat. “And let’s just say Al became a cop because he has a strong sense of justice and wishes to help people.”

“Help people?” Claire snorted loudly. “Yeah, right.”

“Trust me, if you start down that rabbit hole, you’ll wind up dead fast. Best to just let it go, cupcake.”

Point taken. She was sure Wesker’s motives in law enforcement weren’t for anything good. Claire decided to change the subject, wondering what else she could dig for. “So, what happened to James?”

William’s eyes fell down and away. “Oh…he, uh, passed away. ‘Bout a decade ago. Anne, Sherry, and Albert are the only family I’ve got.”

The college student could tell that he was deliberately keeping parts out, but didn’t press it. She took a drink of her coffee, studying him. “You said Wesker went through hell. What happened to him? And what about his sister? He told me he had one.”

“An older sister by one year. Albert didn’t find out about her until later. Eh, a complicated matter, really. As for what happened to him, it isn’t for me to say. But it wasn’t nice.”

Claire only grew more curious and found herself feeling a tiny bit sad over what could’ve possibly happened to Wesker and William both. Obviously, certain events throughout their lives had turned them into the people they were today. She wanted to know. More clues proving that Wesker wasn’t just some power-hungry psychopath. There was a reason he was the way he was and he did the things he did. Everything he did had a purpose. And all of his goals seemed to point to power and control.

Claire wondered if maybe something happened to Wesker out of his control when he was young that damaged him. Or maybe she was just giving him too much credit.

The younger Redfield let it go. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll never feel sorry for him after what he’s done.”

William half-smirked. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel that way. Just saying what happened. I love Al like a brother, but he is a monster. A brotherly monster, so to speak! A monster created through circumstances out of his control and he never let it go. And, well, I’m no different. Albert’s always been treated as a weapon or a tool...what they created was something far worse that can never be ruled again. You know what they always say in those comics? Heroes aren’t born, they’re made. The same applies to villains. But the thing about good and evil and all the gray in between, Claire, is that it’s a matter of perspective.”

So, she was right after all. There was more to him than met the eye...

I am no longer the ruled...I am the ruler…

Claire was quiet, taking in the genius researcher’s philosophy. She really didn’t know what to say to it, but her chance was soon lost when she heard the room’s door open. The air immediately changed, and she didn’t even have to look to know that it was Wesker who had returned. She was surprised to see that his silver-haired companion was nowhere in sight. But where Claire had instantly glared his way as he slowly approached them, taking off his sunglasses, William instantly brightened with a lopsided grin.

“Did you have a nice chat with ‘ol Nikky? He sure is a grouch. No sense of humor at all!”

She would have relaxed from William’s usual boast of teasing and humor had Wesker not been eyeing her closely since entering the room. Without the shades, his stare was even more unnerving than usual - even though Claire couldn’t help but to admit that he did have captivating eyes.

The younger Redfield’s heart jumped to her throat the second he gave her a devious smile, but thankfully his eyes soon left her. She almost staggered and felt like collapsing when the pressure that she had felt from his scrutiny fell off her like a crushing weight. Her stomach felt funny from the sudden and unexpected adrenaline rush. Lightheaded, she stayed quiet while Wesker offered William his most sarcastic smirk.

“What’s wrong, Will? Don’t like sharing my attention?”

Will scoffed and waved his old friend off waggishly. “Me? Jealous? Hell no. I’m way more charming than he is. Funnier, too. And better looking, just for the record!”

The chuckle Wesker produced was gentler than usual. “Obviously, there is no competition.”

Wesker placed his hands on Claire’s shoulders. She flinched in her seat, shivering as his cool fingers kneaded her skin in an unmistakably possessive manner that was meant to intimidate her and assert his dominance over the situation - and her.

Fucking creep! Claire couldn’t help but curse him silently as she stiffened under his unexpected touch. But she soon noticed that her own body started betraying her beneath his massaging.

“Was our lovely assistant here any hassle for you?”

She braced, as though his fingers would turn into claws and tear into her, hands forming into fists in her lap as she stared hard at William. He tapped a pencil he was holding on the table, gaping at them for a moment, and Claire was sure he was indifferent to her internal suffering.

“Oh, no trouble at all. Pleasant company as always, Al. Without a punch to my attractive face, I might add.”

“Good.”

Claire glared at him, but the eccentric researcher suddenly sneaked a tiny smile and winked at her in an excessively conspiratorial manner. He grabbed the briefcase near him and slid it across the table to the seat on her other side without breaking eye contact with her. Wesker let her go and moved over to the briefcase and the younger Redfield just about collapsed in relief. She released a shaky breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

William stood up with an over-dramatic stretch. He picked up his closed laptop and folder and slipped them under his arm. “Well, I better get back to the lab. I’ve got cells from “you know what” to go over with faulty ribosome and polypeptide structures that need analysis.” He pushed in his chair and lazily saluted Claire. “Always a pleasure, Claire. Be good.”

He didn’t even have a chance to take one step towards the exit before Wesker grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him back. “Whaaaaat?” he groaned like an indignant teenager.

Wesker’s smirk was a malicious kind of playful. “Will, my dear friend, did you not hear? Claire is babysitting Sherry for you.”

William laughed. “Sherry hasn’t needed an actual babysitter in almost three years! I mean except for you, Uncle Alby!”

Wesker snickered and then suddenly punched Will in the gut hard enough to make him lurch and yelp, though he wheezed a laugh. “Fuck, ow!”

Claire jumped to her feet. “Jesus! Why the hell do you hurt him if he’s your friend?!”

William, grimacing, waved her off, still wheezing snickers. “S’all good. It’s how he shows affection.”

Once William got his breath back, he shoved Wesker away from him and straightened his lab coat. “So…I take it the babysitting thing is the cover-up with her brother? Clever!”

“You should pay her for it, Will. Make it look legitimate.”

William glared at Wesker. “You pay her! All I got is the grocery allowance! Besides, she’s your “project”. Not mine!”

Claire quickly grew annoyed. “I don’t want any blood money from anyone, let alone you two assholes.”

“Hey, my grocery allowance is not blood money. I keep that in an entirely different account, thank you very much.”

“All I want to do is finish this and get my freedom. Can we move on, please?” Claire groused.

“You heard the lady, Al,” William said with a shrug. “Get to it! I gotta get back to work.”

The eccentric researcher took his leave while rubbing the sore spot in his stomach. When the door shut and Claire was left alone with Wesker, the atmosphere seemed to electrify. She stared at the door, regretting having hurried William out the door. Wesker’s imposing presence silently seemed to push all the air out of the room as he walked around her backside, his hand skimming along her back. She desperately swallowed the effects it had on her, though she couldn’t stop the goosebumps from sprouting on her skin.

“Well, dearheart,” he murmured finally. “Time to get to work...we have much to discuss and plan. No time like the present...”

He wrapped his arm firmly around her shoulder then, pulling her closer than she was comfortable with. He turned her to the table, where the briefcase contents were now out on the table. One look and Claire had a really, really bad feeling…She was about to get in way over her head…

[hide-in-imagination]

“An Unexpected Return”- OneShot

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I’M BACK FROM THE DEAD!  🙌🏻 🙌🏻 🙌🏻 🙌🏻 🙌🏻 🙌🏻 🙌🏻

I never thought I’d write Nico’s POV but, oh well, a prompt is a prompt  🤷🏻‍♀️ Kudos to whoever came out with this idea because I don’t remember who it was and I can’t find the ask 😂

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Nico stood outside the Jam & Roller with sparkling eyes and a huge smile on his face. The place hadn’t changed a bit, at least from the outside. He breathed a long, contented sigh, thinking about all the moments he had lived inside those walls, all the people he had met, how much he had missed them and Buenos Aires. He almost couldn’t believe he was there again. He was finally back.

He had barely stopped by his hotel room to drop his bags before he was out the door, grabbing a cab and heading directly to where he was now. Even if the exterior was the same, he knew things had changed. None of his friends worked there anymore, they went to a bigger rink when anyone wanted to skate, and all of them had found bigger stages for themselves than the small one of the Jam & Roller. The building had become too small for all the stars that had been born there, but every once in a while, they all liked to hang in the place where all had started.

Nico knew some of the guys would be there that day because he had spoken to Pedro. He had wanted to surprise everyone, but it would’ve been hard to find them all without at least some help, so Pedro had been the only one he had talked to in advanced and informed that he was coming back. Pedro had always been his best friend after all, even while he was away. Of course, he had met new people in New York and made new friends, but he had kept in touch with everyone from the Roller in at least some degree. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t drift apart some bit with some of them, that was just how life worked, but never Pedro. They may have been born from different parents, but that guy was his brother, nothing would ever change that.  

Finally, he shook himself out of his reminiscing and walked inside. Some furniture had been changed, there were new paintings on the walls, but overall, the Jam & Roller remained the same.

He only needed to take a couple steps into the cafeteria for him to see them. Sat around a table on the right, were Pedro, Matteo and Ramiro. The three were drinking and talking avidly. Ramiro had his hair shorter than Nico had ever seen it, but otherwise he looked pretty much the same. Matteo had a beard now, which, of course, he had seen in photos, but it was almost weird to see it in real life. He had met him before he could grow any facial hair.

God, time really flies.

Pedro was the first to notice him since he had been waiting for him. He made a sign to the others to look in his direction. A second later, Matteo and Ramiro were staring at him wide-eyed and jumping to their feet.

“NICOOO!”

After that everything was hugs, questions, ‘I missed yous’ and a lot of smiles and laughs. They sat in the cafeteria like they used to do every day at some faraway point in their lives, and Nico felt wave after wave of nostalgia hit him, followed by happiness of being back to the one place that always felt like home.

They spent some time catching up with Ramiro’s and Matteo’s life while they asked about Nico’s time in New York. They all agreed to not go too into it right there though since they wanted everyone reunited to hear the stories. At the idea of gathering everyone later that day, Nico asked:

“Where’s Simón? I’ve missed that guy. I can’t wait to see him.”

Everyone seemed to think about it. 

“Mmm, he must be—” Matteo started.

“In his apartment,” Pedro interrupted him. He retrieved a keyring from the pocket of his jeans. “Here, he gave me a key in case of emergencies. I’ll lend it to you so you can surprise him.”

Matteo and Ramiro looked at Pedro weirdly. Pedro didn’t seem to notice as he took out one of the keys from his keyring. Once free, he handed it to Nico.

“Simón’s got his own place now?” Nico asked as he received the key. That was news to him.  

“Actually—” Matteo started, only to be interrupted by Pedro again.

“Yeah, a little while back. We may be a band but, we didn’t need to be together 24/7. We all got our own places now.” Pedro took out his phone and started typing. “There. I sent you the address.”

“Cool.” Nico smiled from ear to ear and sighed. “God, I’m so happy to see all of you. I can’t wait to see Simón’s face!”

“Oh, he’ll be surprised for sure,” Ramiro commented with a funny tone before taking a sip from his drink. Matteo laughed under his breath but didn’t say anything. Nico ignored that, too excited from the prospect of seeing his friend again to notice. He said his goodbyes to the guys, promising to see them all later, and went his way.

-------------- 

Nico turned the key and opened the door of Simón’s apartment as quietly as he could. Of course, there was the chance that Simón was in the living room and therefore he would immediately see him, but if not, Nico didn’t want to ruin the surprise by making too much noise.

He wasn’t in the living room, turns out, and for the looks of it, he wasn’t in the kitchen either. Nico took a moment to appreciate the place. It was big with a shiny wood floor, casually decorated, nothing too fancy except for a huge TV in front of the black leather couch. Nico was a little surprised by how clean and tidy everything looked. He had been half expecting to see dirty clothes and music sheets spread around everywhere, but the place looked good as new. Well, to be fair, Simón had never been the messiest of the three when they lived together in the loft, but Nico still wasn’t expecting to see his apartment look so pristine.

Maybe his room is a disaster and he only cleans here for appearance’s sake.

Smiling at the idea, he walked to what he assumed was the bedroom since he could see the bathroom with its door open at the end of the hall on his left. The closed door next to it, he gathered, had to be were Simón was.

He bit his lip to try not to laugh as he softly turned the knob and pulled the door open. It had been a while since he did something mischievous like this and he almost felt childish for it but, whatever, he could afford to act childish once in a while.

The moment he opened wide enough to look inside though, he lost the smile. 

Simón was indeed there, yes. The issue was that he was shirtless, pants-less, with just some black boxers covering his ass as far as Nico could tell. That alone was nothing new, he had seen him like that before. The real issue was that Simón was not alone. He was sitting in bed with… Ámbar, yes, that was Ámbar, on top of him straddling his hips. She wasn’t wearing more than two pieces of underwear and Nico definitely hadn’t seen her like that before.

The reason it had taken a moment to recognize her was because they were sucking each other’s faces so fervently that it was hard to distinguish one from the other.  

As if that hadn’t been graphic enough, Simón had his hands on Ámbar’s hips, guiding her movements down as he thrusted up. What was coming out of Ámbar’s throat were definitely moans.

What came out of Nico’s throat was definitely a panicked shriek.

“OH MY GOD!”

The couple jumped and snapped their heads towards him. In a flash, Ámbar was under the covers while Simón placed a pillow on his lap and screamed at him at the top of his lungs.

“NICO, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“I’M SORRY—”

“—YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO—”

“—I’M SO SORRY—”

“—SOMEONE’S BEDROOM LIKE THAT—"

“—PEDRO GAVE ME A KEY—”

“—WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM—”

“—I DIDN’T KNOW, I SWEAR I DIDN’T KNOW—"

“—WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING HEre… Oh my god.”

Suddenly, the fight abandoned Simón and he stared at Nico open-mouthed.

“You’re here. Nico, you’re— NICO!”

Simón stood up and hugged him excitedly before placing his hands on his shoulders.  

“Oh my god! When did you arrive?! Why didn’t you tell me anything?! We could’ve gone pick you up at the airport or organize a party for you.” He hugged him again. “God, I’ve missed you so much!”

From the bed, Ámbar cleared her throat pointedly. “For as much as I’m happy for you, could you perhaps have this reunion outside?”  

Simón let go of Nico and turned to her. “Of course, my love. Sorry.”

He guided Nico outside the bedroom and closed the door behind them.  

“Seriously, what are you doing here? Vacations?”

“Actually, I’m here to stay.”

“Really?!” Simón exclaimed with a grin before his expression turned to confusion. “But wait, I thought you were gonna stay there even if things with Ada didn’t work.”

Nico shrugged. “That was the plan, but then I got an offer for a music deal here in Argentina, so, here I am.”  

“That’s so great, I’m so happy for you!” Simón hugged him again. “It’s so great to have you back. I’ve seriously missed you, we’ve all missed you.”

Nico gave him a funny look.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re very happy to see me,” he said, moving his eyes down and then back at his face.

Simón lost his smile, visibly flustered. He punched Nico in the arm.

“You freaking ill-timed idiot. That’s on you, and you own me big time,” he pointed with his finger. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think Ámbar would be here.”

Simón frowned. “Why wouldn’t she be here? We live together.”

Nico blinked.

“You—” Suddenly, every piece fell into place inside his head. “That son of a bitch, he didn’t tell me that! Now I know why Matteo and Ramiro thought it was so funny.”

“Pedro sent you?”

“Yeah. That bastard. He must have known what I’d find.” Nico was mad for haven fallen in his game so innocently. He’d definitely make him pay for it later.

Slowly, Nico’s frown turned into a wicked smirk. “…Who would’ve thought Simoncito would be like that, huh?”

“Don’t start,” Simón said, but Nico definitely wasn’t about to miss the chance to tease him, even if just a little.

“Should I tell her about how you used to talk about her in your sleep?”

“Don’t you dare,” was Simón instant response. “… Although,” he reconsidered, “she probably knows by now.”

“I do!” Came Ámbar’s voice from inside the bedroom.

Simón stepped next to the door and talked back to her.

“Love, if you’re listening, does that mean you’re decent now?”

“Yeah, just a second.”

Some moments later, Ámbar walked out of the bedroom wearing a red plaid shirt that seemed too big for her (probably Simon’s) and a jeans skirt. She had managed to make her hair look straight out of a hair salon while Simón’s still looked like a bird’s nest.  

“Nico, hi, so good to have you back,” she greeted him with a smile.

Then she slapped him in the arm. Hard.

“Never walk in again like that or I swear you’re going to regret it, understood?”  

Nico gulped under her threatening look and rubbed his poor arm that had received two hits in the last five minutes. “Of course, Ámbar. Sorry.” He looked at Simón. “I see she’s still feisty.”

Simón laughed and passed one arm around Ámbar’s waist. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said and kissed the side of her head.  The way he looked at her and the look she gave him in return somehow seemed more intimate than what he had walked into before.

So that’s what love is supposed to look like, Nico thought with a little ache in his heart. He hoped one day he’d find that with someone.

He cleared his throat and smiled. “Anyway, I just wanted to come by and say hi. I’m gonna go now, but we should totally do something later.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Simón perked up. “Let’s see the details via text, okay?” He walked Nico to the door and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “See you, brother!” 

“See you!” Nico said back with a grin. He looked behind Simón. “You too, Ámbar.”

“Until later,” she said with a wave.  

Nico turned and heard the door close behind him. He went back outside and decided to head back to his hotel. 

On the way there, he tried not to think about whether the couple had continued what they had been doing or not. A part of him would feel bad if they didn’t, but a bigger part of him just wanted to erase the whole notion of his friend having sex out of his brain.

----------------

It was later that day, during an improvised welcome party they threw for him at the Benson mansion, that Nico scolded Pedro for giving him Simón’s and Ámbar’s key without telling him anything. 

All Pedro did was stare at him.  

“If I have to be traumatized, so do you,” he said.  

The dark, life-less look on his friend’s face made Nico wonder just what he had seen.

He decided to never speak about the subject ever again.

...

..

.

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In case you were wondering, this was the prompt:  “ What would happen if Nico comes back and he is like "I miss Simón. Where is he?" And Ramiro, Matteo and Pedro just look at each other for three second then turn toward Nico, give him the key of the apartment and tells him the address. So Nico walk in the house and thinks "He must be sleeping" So he walks in the bedroom and he just find Simón and Ámbar half-naked making out, ready to do other things. What happens next is your choice (I'm all for Simón screaming and throwing him out)”

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[misstinfoilhat]

Whumptober 2019 #15: Trembling/Adrenaline- Bungou Stray Dogs

I am seriously out of ideas. As I start to write this, I still have no idea what is going to be written on this page once I'm done.

(And now that it's done, I'm still not sure what this is. This was just me writing without any purpose, having no idea where it would go. I think you can see a pretty clear shift in the story- yay Hypomania!)  If anybody has any requests, something they want to see, just a small scenario somewhere in some story, please don't hesitate to leave it in a comment/message (depending on where you read this). I really need something to work off of, because I'm empty. Something angsty, fluffy, funny, gory- whatever. I would like to keep writing Dazai-centric things for this, though. Today's prompt was supposed to be 'scars'. I am going to write that- but I'm not able to right now. I'm going to pick it up later. Instead, it's this mix between a prompt from the past and the future! (Even though they’re both technically from the past since I’m behind af.) 

Whumpvember! -----

Some days, Dazai was able to take all he had lost with stride. It was in the past, a finished chapter that didn't need revisiting. There was nothing to do with it- what was written, was written.

Other days, days like today... that just wasn't an option.

Because these days, he felt haunted. As if the many ghosts from his past suddenly came up beside him and sucker-punched him in the gut, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air and trying to stagger back to his feet on his own.

Currently sitting on top of the tallest skyscraper in Yokohama, he let his feet dangle over the edge as he watched the city down there, moving on with their life without him. 

They couldn't see him- didn't even know he existed up here. And he, he had no idea who they were.

Like ants, he imagined that he crushed them with the soles of his shoes, dipping them playfully in the air far above everyone, squishing them one by one- none ever the wiser.

He didn't care about these people. They didn't care about him. He hadn't even known that they existed until a few minutes ago. And they, wouldn't know that he ever existed at all before he plunged down, smashing onto the sidewalk in front of them like a watermelon.

Well, if he did. He wasn't sure anymore.

Sneaking up here, that had been the plan. But now, he wasn't sure if it would be the painless suicide that didn't inconvenience anyone that he wanted.

He had seen enough skulls crush to know that it was quite difficult to digest the first couple of times.

Filling his lungs with air and breathing it out slowly, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine a world where he wasn't used to seeing heads explode, while simultaneously realizing that he didn't want to be the reason another child woke up in panic, reliving the moment a stranger's body pulverized on the pavement in front of them for the rest of their life.

So, no. He wasn't going to jump. Not right now, at least. Maybe tomorrow, during school hours. There would be less children around to witness it then.

Except, the ADA had a mission tomorrow.

...phew, good thing he didn't die today, or else, his death would really be an inconvenience for everybody.

Especially Atsushi. It was the first mission where he had been given the lead- they were going to execute the tiger boy's game plan.

Dazai hummed humorously, thinking about the worry knitted between the kid's eyebrows, and the small drop of sweat trailing down his face when they got the mission and he was appointed to take the lead.

His strategy was... fine. It was no 'Shame and toad', or 'Footsteps of heat and haze', but it was... fine... totally fine.

...as long as he was there to do some patch-work, of course.

Dazai laid back, resting his head on his arms while looking up at the night sky. The clear, dark blue nothingness, filled with the small, pretty twinkling balls of luminous gas with nuclear fusion reactions in their cores.

...Also called stars.

Ten thousand year old lights shone above him, radiating from orbs that could live up to a billion years... and here, he was lying on the roof of a tall building, wanting to end his life after only twenty-two.

...mourning the life of people who were unable to live past much more than that. People who hadn't been ready to die. Good people. People he wished he could bring back.

He huffed out a bitter scoff, shifting and dragging his hands across his face wearily.

It was late, the wind was picking up and it was getting cold. His mind was going places it wasn't supposed to, so he should probably get back to the dorms.

Listlessly, he hosed himself up to a sitting position, retracting his feet from the edge and started to get up.

As he placed his weight on his heels, his left foot slipped on the ledge.

In a moment of confusion, he tilted slightly to the side, instinctively grabbing urgently for something to hold onto. The slight tilt of the roof didn't help at all. His inside contorted into a tight knot as he felt his back glide off the edge.

The world was moving in slow motion. He knew his only way to save himself from this all too ironic death would be if he somehow was able to grab onto the small edges of the rooftop.

What happened next only lasted for a couple of seconds, all though it felt like much longer.

Twisting his body slightly, he was able to grab onto the edge with his right arm, but the suddenly added burden of his body weight immediately jerked his shoulder out of its socket. A blinding, shooting pain traveled to the tips of his fingers that threatened to give out.

Dazai grit his teeth in agony and shut his eyes closed, forcing the hurt back with pure willpower, determined to get back up.

He kinda wished he had informed Atsushi about some of the holes in his plan- just... in case.

With the very last of his strength, he pushed his feet against the wall, using the momentum to fling his left arm up with no other option than having blind faith in his ability to catch a hold of anything.

A small sigh of relief forced its way through his body as he felt his hand touch the cool steel of the roof tiles. Scrambling his legs, trying his best not to slip, he was able to climb, painstakingly slowly, back up.

His heart was racing and he panted heavily, crawling a safe distance away from the slippery side, settling on his back while gripping his injured shoulder tightly.

His whole body was trembling from the rush of adrenaline, and he knew he had to get down from there and (reluctantly admitting to himself that he also had to) visit Yosano to help him set the shoulder back. Usually when he tried to do it himself, he would screw up so many times that he eventually ended up passing out- Mori had dislocated his shoulder and made him try to set it back so many times (it was a good way of breaking out of hand cuffs or tight ropes), that he was almost used to it by now.

He knew he would be able to do it eventually, but just the thought made him gravitate towards the edge again...

Carefully, he coerced himself up to a seated position, a bit impressed with the arm that was now hanging limply by its side, and that it had been able to hold his weight at all after the initial injury. Right now, he had no contact with it, which was usually how it went.

He had heard about things like this, when your body would go above and beyond to survive in near-death situations... Oh, how his body must have had betrayed him for all these years...

Before he could slip back to old habits, he turned and headed for the fire escape he had come up.

Climbing the caged ladder with only one arm was difficult, but manageable. For a while.

About half-way (why had he picked the tallest building in all of Yokohama?), the adrenaline was starting to wear off, and his shoulder began to throb violently. His left arm and legs were getting tired. But, he wasn't stopping. That would only result in his limbs stiffening, and that would only make it harder.

So, he kept descending the ladder at a steady pace, until finally, he stepped on the last step.

It was a 2,5 meters drop from the ladder to the ground. Dazai moaned in exasperation, and (finally) let himself fall.

He hit the pavement bellow with a small thud. Such an anti-climactic ending to his venture on the skyscraper- but at least there weren't any traumatized children around.

Scowling up at the ladder, he rubbed his back wearily and gathered himself at his feet, limping his way back towards the Agency.

--------

“What in the world...?” Yosano uttered dumbfounded, as Dazai dragged himself into the Agency, only a little late. Her words caused a chain reaction. A mixture of perfectly groomed, or disheveled bed-haired heads peeked towards the entry, where Dazai stood, leaning heavily to the wall.

Honestly, Dazai had no idea that it was going to take that long to get back- or that it had been so late in the first place. He hadn't been able to get home for a shower or a change of clothes, before he had to be at work.

His coat was dirty, the knees of his pants ripped and his hair a mess. He looked suspiciously pale, and his breathing was labored like he was in great discomfort.

“Morning...” he mumbled hoarsely, grimacing at how small his voice sounded. It obviously didn't help with the seven pairs of eyes (eight pairs, if you counted Kunikida's glasses) that looked concerned at him.

Before he was able to try and explain himself, Yosano had a tight grip around his healthy arm, which admittedly was sore and stiff after the long climb, and dragged him off towards the infirmary.

------

An hour later, Dazai reappeared at the office with his arm in a sling. Yosano had taken a look at him as he got up from her table of horrors with a small giggle, telling him it was almost nice to see him back in his signature look. 

High as a kite on pain killers, he decided that she was mean and didn't deserve an answer except for a tongue, childishly sticking out and blowing raspberries towards her.

“How are you doing, Dazai-san?” Atsushi asked worriedly. The group were all leaning over the same table, probably going over today's mission a final time.

Dazai set up a wide grin and strode over with featherlike steps, except for the occasional hobble as his backside made reminded him that asphalt didn’t cushion your fall very well.

“I'm great,” he beamed and shook the orange pill bottle he had received from the doctor. “Yosano-sensei is being generous with the funny-pills today.”

“...Right,” Kunikida answered with a frown, while Dazai wormed his way under Ranpo's arm, jiggling the bottle in front of his face and murmuring tauntingly, “And you can't have any of my candy either,” -to which Ranpo pushed him gently away.

“So, what mess did you get yourself into this time?” Kunikida asked gravely, choosing to ignore his partner's foolishness.

The bandaged idiot jerked his head up quickly, watching the bespectacled man intently.

“Oh, I was just going to kill myself, but then, I almost died!” he exclaimed wide-eyed.

Stupified expressions glared at him for a long moment. Atsushi blinked repeatedly until Kunikida cleared his throat to get everyone's attention back to their work.

“So... We'll enter through exit C at the back- where Tanizaki will be waiting to let us in...”

Dazai made his way over to the blonde man and grabbed his shirt tightly, wide orbs glaring deeply into his eyes with a seriousness rarely seen in the slender man.

“Didn't you hear me? I was going to jump, and then I didn't, but then I slipped, and, and...”

Kunikida sighed deeply, calmly placing his hand on Dazai's tight grip, firmly prying his fingers open.

“Yes, we all heard you. You were going to kill yourself, and you almost made it. Now, you should go back to the dorms and sleep this... buzz off, so we can get ready...”

“What? No! I'm coming with you. And I wasn't going to kill myself- I mean, I was, but I wasn't, because I was coming here!” Dazai smiled, nodding vigorously, looking around the room for support.

Atsushi immediately averted his gaze, unable to look into the wide doe-eyes as the light in them eventually would go out, when he realized that they had reworked the whole plan around him not being included.

Apparently, Dazai couldn't find any support from any of the others either. His voice had quieted down considerably when he asked, one final time with just a small glimpse of hope still left in it, “Right?”

“I'm sorry, Dazai-san,” Atsushi said, reluctantly peeking back up at him, as he stood dejectedly in front of Kunikida.

“B-but, no! I was... I was gonna jump, I would have jumped... But I wanted to see my little orphan's debut as team leader!”

“Your little...?” Atsushi uttered, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, like... like Oda said,” Dazai trailed off, lowering his gaze to the floor and shook his head lightly in his haze.

The spectators exchanged bewildered looks.

With a weary rise and fall of his shoulders, Atsushi breathed out tiredly and walked over to Dazai, who was mumbling something about 'footsteps of heat and haze', and placed a light arm across his elder's back and started to walk him towards the exit.

“Come, we should get you home,” he explained and tried for a smile to tell him that it was all okay and nothing to worry about.

“B-but, the mission-” Dazai tried to argue feebly, but kept walking in the direction Atsushi was taking him anyway, trying to look back at the lowered gazes, refusing to look at him.

“Don't worry about it, we'll be fine for a couple of hours-”

“But-”

“-I can make you some food, we can play a game if you're up for it-”

“...What?” Dazai suddenly halted to a stop.

Atsushi stopped too, looking up at his mentor and smiling reassuringly.

“We're going to have to send Yosano if you can't go, and someone needs to look after you... My ability isn't necessary for this, it's fine.”

“No...” Dazai proclaimed, lightly shocked. “No, this... this isn't how it's supposed to be. It's your big day, and... and I'm supposed to look after you, and instead, you're looking after me and it’s all upside down!”

Atsushi chuckled nervously, patting Dazai's uninjured shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “It's okay.”

“No, it's not. I- I didn't jump last night because I wanted to be there with you on this mission. It's a big day, and... I ruined it... I messed everything up for you by being stupid and broken and...”

He shook his head bitterly, finally looking at the boy. “...and I don't deserve it. You're so pure and...good, and... I'm... not. I'm horrible.”

Dazai's guilt-ridden and genuinely distraught look made the white-haired boy's heart twist painfully in his chest. He had no idea this meant so much to him. Had no idea he did. 

Dazai was just this silly, carefree person at the Agency (albeit with a burning death-wish), who could come up with flawless tactics in the blink of an eye and was supposed to be unbreakable.

Somehow, he wondered if this was how normal children felt when they first realized that there was no Santa Claus.

“Stop that,” Atsushi said finally. “Y-you... You already look after me. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. I would have starved, or the mafia would've sold me on the black market!”

He was getting some stealth to his voice now, and it looked like Dazai was listening, so he continued.

“You gave me a place to stay, a job. Literally the shirt on my back! You gave me a reason to live... A reason to fight... Sitting out one measly mission isn't going to cancel that out... You can't nullify everything,” he closed with a small smirk.

Dazai chuckled a little too, taking in a deep breath and straightened his back, finding some encouragement in those words- that Atsushi wasn't mad at him, but it didn't mean that he hadn't screwed up royalty.

“Fine,” he sighed, letting Atsushi steady him lightly across the parking lot towards the dorms. He threw his working arm lazily over the younger's shoulder and ruffled his hair vigorously.

Atsushi easily leaned into the light-hearted show of affection, feeling a fuzzy warm feeling melting away the heavy ice that had overwhelmed his heart moments before.

Dazai kept his arm around Atsushi as they crossed the large space. It wasn't until they finally passed the small gate that gave them access to the dormitories, that he spoke again.

“So... death by black market, huh?”

[girlobsessed21]

The 100 - 6x04: The face behind the glass review and predictions.

Before we get into the specifics, I’m a little scared of the rehashing of old narratives that comes to surface in this episode especially. Not sure how I feel about all the parallels. In my trailer analysis, I did point out the fact that it does not seem that much different than previous seasons: There are no good guys, we kill them so that we can live and blah, blah, blah. Even so, I’m interested and invested to see what types of unique twists and turns this story will throw at us. Jason Rothenberg, you better not disappoint.

The face behind the glass written by Charmaine DeGrate and directed by Tim Scanlan, who is known for directing the sex scenes on the show. Dead giveaway. Not my favorite so far, but a lot of things happened that has me excited for the rest of the season.

Is there a better way to open an episode than Diyoza joking with her unborn child? It’s no secret she’s in my top 5 favorite characters and keeps climbing the charts. So, the Sanctumites offer her a deal: Save Rose and we’ll take care of your baby, which she takes, to offer her child a life and it’s something to do other than trying to survive. But in known Diyoza fashion on condition of a gun and a bike. 

Then, Simone begs Russel to cancel naming day on account of spies inside the compund. They’ve already been deprived of three primes (Kaylee’s family) and Rose. Pushing them towards extinction at an alarming rate and it once again becomes obvious that Clarke will become Josephine, yet I’m now intrigued by Madi. The cultish way in which these people worship the primes are uncanny and wayward. But then again all cults are weird. I don’t believe in the divinity of the primes either.

Russel disagrees by saying: “If we cancel, Gabriel wins.” Last week I thought that Gabriel will be brought back to life in one of the hosts, but I think there’s something else going on there. It’s clear now that Gabriel and his children are against the revival of the primes, bringing about the question: How has he survived all these years?

Priya and Jordan share some sweet intimate moments where he tells her he feels guilty for becoming another taunting face behind the glass. Which was necessary to show he’s still grieving his parents even while having fun. Her referral to this line later before she becomes a prime is crucial though, meaning there might be a possibility for her to come back.

The four pillars of Sanctum: Repent, Renew, Rejoice, Rebirth. Accentuating rebirth very literally. We know from episode two that Russel Lightbourne does not believe in God, but by killing a person for no reason other than so that someone you love can live is playing god in the cruelest way imaginable.

Embracing their traditions, Clarke decides to repent for her sins. She tries to apologize to Raven who won’t have any of it and compares her to Octavia. For me, the biggest difference between Clarke and Octavia is the remorse she feels. She knows what she did was wrong and she��s trying to make up for it. Therefore she deserves forgiveness. I wonder how Raven will react to Clarke’s death? 

Gabriel? Who the f#@k are Gabriel and his children?

As I said earlier, the old man is definitely Gabriel. We don’t know if he’s dead or alive. It can’t be that he lives within a computer because then his existence would be known. 

My guess is the split within Sanctum came recently (using the term loosely). Gabriel had to be one of the 12 primes since he came with them and his blood was also altered. Meaning his conscience was also transferred into a host. He was against the hostile takeover of innocent bodies and decided to rebel by saving the hosts. 

If this happened sixty odd years ago, Gabriel could still be alive somewhere (perhaps in hiding due to a failed conviction) and old. Very, very old. I’m not sure whether his followers are literally his children or just those that have sided with him, but either way, they want to continue his cause. Which they’ve clearly lost sight of. Save the hosts, don’t kill them.

Or this anomaly they mentioned somehow extends life, only it’s dangerous. Who knows, I’m a bit boggled here.

Xavier purposefully left his bag out to save Octavia and Rose. I’m sure I’ve seen this before. Right, Lincoln kidnapped her and saved her simultaneously. I know this is such a retelling of their story, but I loved Linctavia and thus cannot help boarding this ship.

Another season one throwback to Bellamy and Charlotte. But I think I’ve voiced my concerns about these. Poor, poor Rose. That scene was heartbreaking. 

Boy oh boy Bellarke and their romances

Clarke apologizes to Bellamy and states her reasons even though Bellamy has already forgiven her because he would be a hypocrite not to. And they share what has now become known as a Bellarke hug since it’s all these idiots can ever do.

Clarke hooks up with Cillian (who turns out to be the spy) within two seconds, now I’m not sure about you, but I rolled my eyes. Oh, cute, Clarke has yet another lover added to her long list of previous ones. Finn, Niyalah, Lexa, and Bellamy always on the side. I’m glad it’s a guy though to showcase that she is indeed bisexual and not gay. Bisexuality really needs some appreciation.

No one can tell if Bellamy was only upset with the party as he stated or Clarke having fun with some random dude. Most will say it’s the former and it probably is, yet it’s filmed in a different way. Why did they put him in this scene in the first place? 

When he sees her having fun, he smiles, he’s happy for her. Then the doctor’s all over her and all of a sudden his attitude changes. I don’t want to read too much into it since I had to watch it like six times to draw this conclusion.

He’s hurt and grieving over a lot of things, especially his sister and then he witnesses his “platonic soulmate” in the arms of another man. She’s always known exactly how to get him to open up, what to say to make him feel better and even though he knows he’s not allowed to feel that way, he’s jealous, he realizes he still needs her. 

And that spurs the single tear and his fight with Echo. He even spares another glance over his shoulder when she asks what’s wrong. Or was that just random? Because once he’s calmed down he apologizes to his girlfriend and comforts her when she tells him her backstory after six years of being lied to.

I felt for Echo, her life wasn’t easy, but none of their lives were. Honestly, I just can’t find Becho’s connection. Even though I try, because at some point we have to accept the fact that this is possibly a long term pairing. I’ve made my peace, I’ll ignore them. Give Echo an individual storyline and I might just start liking her more. 

A Red Queen and a terrorist walk into a bar

First of all, I have to show my gratitude for the glimpses of Octavia’s humanity. She’s in there and she’s slowly swimming to the top. That thorned rose is blossoming once again, thank you, Bellamy, for your part in this.

This is a weapon of mass destruction if I’ve ever seen one. A pregnant terrorist and a former evil queen. Yes, this is what I’m talking about. I might just write fanfiction about it.

“The devils of earth become the heroes of Sanctum.” They’re set out to kill Gabriel, but I doubt that will occur. From all I’ve heard, he’s good. Enhanced by Cillian’s words: “There are two sides to every story.” So, they will most likely join forces against Sanctum in some way. Hopefully not blowing up another planet. Please do something interesting here.

Josephine!Clarke

Okay, my first take on Josephine Ada Lightbourne was very wrong. To me, she seemed smart, funny and confident. Now she looks like the devil in disguise (No pun intended.) 

Reverting back to my earlier assumption about Delilah/Priya. It’s evident that Delilah no longer exists within her body which sets Jordan on edge. But that small statement along with knowing the mind of the host is erased but the brain is unharmed propels me to believe they can come back. Somehow. Hopefully.

Simone says, “I’ll prep for insertion, you clear the host.” Did that mean Clarke’s mind might be stored in some device too? They must have a way of extracting consciousness to transfer it to a host. Thus Clarke Griffin’s mind will be backed up somewhere as well. Not for too long before it’s disposed of, I’m sure.

Come on Madi (Lexa and Becca), Bellamy, Abby, Jordan, Raven, Murphy. You have to figure this out and bring her back before its too late. I refuse to believe Princess Clarke is dead. If she is, my mind is blown in a bullet to the brain kind of way. 

One scenario is that Josephine will have to give forth a ruse of being Clarke and willingly accept the “honor” of becoming a prime. She’s been indulging in all their other conventions, why not this one, right? But Jordan now knows what happened to Delilah, so they will try to stop her. Most likely Madi or Bellamy will notice a difference within her.

The dangerous alternative will be for Josephine to simply embrace her new host by saying they brought her to life after Cillian murdered her. Sanctumites, you have no idea how much Clarke’s people care about her. This might even sway those currently mad at her for an investigation.

A few last things

Russel does feel bad about what he’s doing, but so did Dante Wallace.

Raven and Wick (Sorry the other mechanic) what is that? Five minutes after Shaw’s death. Or was it only the motorcycle. Why does this show give us seedlings of relationships that will have no chance of growing?

Is Shadeheda Cadogen and what will he bring to the table?

Madi tasting her first cookie was awesome!

I missed Murphy this episode. His presence is required at all times.

What will happen to Niylah on the ship? And when will Indra make her appearance?

Will Russel and Simone find out that Abby knows how to create nightblood? 

Let me know what you think.