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allmoshnobrain · 2 days

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Hello

So i was thinking of 16 and 3 with 80s jason

this was such a fun request to write and i'm honestly in love with jason on this. hope you enjoy reading it, love <3

from this prompt list │requests are open! send yours here

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

jason newsted x reader │ word count: 3,1k

"I'm gonna kiss you. Cool?" he asked, and you blushed, giving a shy nod. "Man, didn't the guys you've been with ever kiss you?" "Not that much," you confessed, and he let out a chuckle. "You need to pick your partners better." "Quit giving me a lecture and just do it," you retorted, and he laughed before leaning in to press his lips softly against yours.

✦ warnings and tags: NSFW!!!, jason newsted x female!reader, +18, language, mxf sex, protected sex (yay), oral sex, friends with benefits, pre-metallica jason (early 80s), reader is inexperienced but not a virgin

The soft hum of the ceiling fan filled your bedroom as it valiantly battled the stifling summer heat with a gentle breeze. You sighed, tearing your eyes away from the open magazine and glancing over at your best friend sprawled out on your rug, absorbed in your Atari video game.

You and Jason had been buddies since high school. You actually met him through your brother - they were in a band together for a bit before your brother bailed to help out your dad with the family business. But even after that, Jason just became a regular fixture around your place.

It was pretty common for the two of you to hang out in your room all day, reading comics, watching movies, or playing games together. Jason was a solid friend - he was chill, funny, and always looked out for you. It felt like he was practically part of the family by now. Your parents and your brother loved having him around, and you couldn't deny you felt the same way.

"What's with the sigh?" Jason asked, and you blinked, glancing down at him to see he'd paused his game, resting his arms on your mattress as he peered up at you, a mop of brown curls framing his face.

"What sigh?" you frowned, and he rolled his eyes.

"You just sighed. The upset kind of sigh," he explained, and you raised an eyebrow. Yeah, maybe after years of hanging out, Jason could read you like a book. It wasn't exactly news, but it still caught you off guard sometimes, how effortlessly tuned in he could be.

"It's nothing," you replied, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. You blushed, shifting your gaze back to your magazine.

"Come on," he nudged your arm, and you huffed, glancing back at him. "I can tell when you're upset. What's up?"

"I'm not upset," you retorted. "Just... Ugh, fine. You remember that guy Flint?"

"That jerk Flint Jones?" Jason snorted, and you chuckled.

"Yeah, well, we went on a date yesterday."

"Damn, sweetheart," he laughed. "No wonder you're feeling some kinda way."

"Oh, shut up," you playfully nudged his head with your foot, and he snorted, grabbing your ankle and moving your foot away from his head. "He's hot, okay? But it's all surface. We went back to his van afterwards and... Well, it was terrible."

"Did he hurt you or anything? You want me to kick his ass?" he asked, suddenly serious, and you laughed.

"Unless you think he deserves a beatdown for having the smallest dick ever," you replied, and Jason snorted, blushing. "Nah, it's all good. It's just the same old story, you know? He just wanted a quick fuck, but he was all about himself. So I bounced," you paused, frowning. "...And then he had the nerve to call me today just to say I’m a bitch."

"Wait till your brother finds out about this," Jason whispered, menacingly.

"Oh, hell no, you're not telling him. I don't need my brother getting all up in my business. As far as he's concerned, I'm still as innocent as they come," you chuckled, then grimaced. "I mean, it's not that far off. I've only been with three guys, but every time it's like, why did I even bother?"

"It was that terrible, huh?" he asked, gently, propping his chin in his hand, and you nodded.

"Sorry. Too much information?" you grinned, a bit shyly, and he returned the smile.

"Not at all. You know you can tell me anything. Even about your awful sex li... Ow!" he laughed as you swiftly left your sitting position to kneel down, giving his head a playful shove before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Shut up, Newsted. Just 'cause you're getting lucky doesn't mean you can rag on my sex life."

"Who said I'm getting lucky?" he chuckled, blushing a bit, and you rolled your eyes.

"Are you serious? I don't know what you did to her, but my friend Carol won't shut up about how amazing your night was. Like I wanted to hear all the details!" you exclaimed. Jason laughed.

“I could show you what I did to her,” he blurted out. You froze, raising your eyebrows at him. "Uh, I mean... You said you've never had a good fuck, so I thought maybe I could..." Jason trailed off, his words stumbling out awkwardly. "I just thought... Maybe if you had a decent one... Okay, forget it, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's cool," you replied hastily. Sure, you hadn't exactly fantasized about getting down with Jason, but you couldn't deny he had his charms, muscular arms and toned body matching the most beautiful wavy hair, blue eyes and a warm smile. Plus, you were sick of your own lackluster experiences and the hassle of trying to score in this town. There was just one hitch: you didn't want things to get weird between you two. Your friendship was cool, the coolest kind there was — you could count on Jason for everything, and he could count on you as well. You didn’t want this to change. “It’s just… Won’t that make things awkward?”

“It doesn’t have to. We’re friends, right?” Jason answered, shifting to sit beside you on the bed with a soft grunt. "I mean, if you're gonna dive into this, might as well do it with someone you trust. Better than messing around with Flint Jones," he joked, and you laughed along.

"You're such a dummy," you teased, feeling your cheeks warm as he inched closer, his hand finding its way to your cheek. “What the hell are you doing, Newsted?”

"I'm gonna kiss you. Cool?" he asked, and you blushed, giving a shy nod. "Man, didn't the guys you've been with ever kiss you?"

"Not that much," you confessed, and he let out a chuckle.

"You need to pick your partners better."

"Quit giving me a lecture and just do it," you retorted, and he laughed before leaning in to press his lips softly against yours.

The kiss started gentle, a bit awkward at first, but you soon started to ease into it, feeling Jason's lips soft against yours. His scent, so familiar, surrounded you as he pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist. You found yourself leaning in, one hand resting on his thigh, letting out a little sigh as he nibbled on your lower lip.

“It's sweltering in here," you muttered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, saying it more as an excuse to take a small breather. Jason chuckled softly.

"I got you," he grinned, pulling your shirt off. You blushed, heart racing as his eyes roamed over your body, then meeting yours. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you replied, biting your lip. "Yeah, keep going."

He grunted, nudging you to lie back as he settled on top of you. You trailed your fingers along his stomach, tugging at his shirt to get it off. Your cheeks flushed as he leaned in, planting soft kisses along your jawline, working his way up to your ear, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

“Gonna teach you what a good fuck feels like,” he murmured, his voice gravelly as he pressed himself against you, his hardness meeting that warm spot between your legs. You sucked in a sharp breath, gripping his hair. "Feels good?" he asked softly, lips trailing along your neck before returning to yours, his body pressing against yours. You nodded, meeting his gaze, cheeks heating up; Jason had never looked at you like this before, his eyes full of desire as he watched the way you opened your mouth slightly, small sighs of pleasure escaping your lips as you felt the pressure of his hard cock against you.

"Jase..." you whispered, reaching for his pants zipper, but he groaned, swiftly grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head. You let out a little whimper of protest, but he chuckled softly.

"Take it easy," he smiled. "Got a few tricks up my sleeve to show you first."

"Like what?" you breathed, and he grinned before letting go of your wrists, sliding his hands down to your back to unhook your bra. You couldn't help but sigh, feeling your cheeks heat up as he traced circles around one of your nipples with his finger, teasing it until it stiffened. He gave it a gentle pinch, and you couldn't hold back a soft moan.

"Has anyone ever touched your boobs like this?" he murmured, planting a soft kiss on one of them, and you shook your head no. He licked his fingertips to give them a little lubrication before teasing your nipple again, giving it gentle pinches and pulls. With a grunt, he took the other into his mouth, and you couldn't help but moan as he sucked on it, his tongue swirling around your nipple while he massaged the other with his hand. "Gonna make sure you know how amazing it can feel, babe."

"Oh," you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair as you instinctively moved your hips upwards, feeling a rush of pleasure and excitement. He pulled back briefly before latching onto your other nipple, teasing and squeezing the one he had just left wet and sensitive. Your eyes fluttered shut, breath coming in uneven bursts as you pulled him in closer. He continued to suck on your breast gently, leaving a little love mark as he unbuttoned your pants.

Your whole body tingled as he stripped off your pants and panties in one swift move. This was a whole different new experience for you; sure, Jason had caught glimpses of you in a bikini before, but being fully exposed like this was a first. Your cheeks flushed hot as he took in your naked form with a low hum, reaching out to grab your waist.

"You're so damn hot," he whispered, his own cheeks tinted with a flush. You sighed contently as he parted your thighs, his fingers exploring the warmth between them. A sharp moan escaped your lips as he teased your sensitive area, circling your wet entrance with his fingertips. "You're soaking wet, babe," he grunted, and you couldn't help but moan in response. He looked up at you. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah," you whispered, closing your eyes with a moan as he slid two fingers inside you, curling them gently. "Oh, Jase..."

"So damn warm and wet," he muttered, looking captivated by your reaction as he positioned himself between your legs, his warm breath against your clit. “I really wanna eat you out… Can I?”

"Yes, please," you whimpered, hips instinctively moving with his fingers as he curled them inside you once more. He chuckled, placing a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before diving down to your clit. A sharp moan escaped your lips as you felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue against your sensitive bud. "Jason..."

"Hmm?" he grinned up at you, his fingers working magic inside you. "You're squeezing around my fingers, babe... Feels good?"

"Feels amazing," you agreed, cheeks flushing. He went back to your clit, licking it in slow circles, and you couldn't help but moan, gripping his hair. A small gasp escaped you when he sucked on it, hips moving with his rhythm as you pulled him closer. He held onto your thigh, keeping you in place as he continued with increasing intensity, sending waves of pleasure through your whole body. "Jason," you gasped, eyes shutting tight as he kept his fingers moving inside you, pleasure building with every stroke. He pulled back momentarily, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs.

"It's alright, babe," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I've got you. Just let it out..."

You whimpered, tugging at his arm until he was back on top of you. He kissed you deeply, his tongue moving with yours as he slid his fingers away, focusing on massaging your clit in slow circles. You melted in his kiss, pressing yourself against him as you felt your climax building, each wave crashing over you until you were moaning louder and louder, your whole body trembling under his touch.

"That's it, baby," Jason murmured, sliding his fingers back inside you and hitting that spot that made you cry out in ecstasy, your walls clenching around him. "Just let it all out... I've got you, honey."

"Jase, please..." you sobbed, burying your face in his neck as you attempted to push his hand away. "It's too intense, I can't..."

“It’s okay,” he whispered, planting soft kisses on your hair while easing his hand's movements. You let out a shaky sigh, still tingling from the pleasure as you came down from your high. He chuckled, brushing your hair back from your face, his body warm and sweaty against yours. "You enjoyed that?"

"Hell yeah," you replied weakly, and he laughed.

"You wanna keep going?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Just need a sec to catch my breath, please," you whispered, and he chuckled before getting up. You watched as he peeled off his pants and underwear, blushing when you caught sight of his arousal. He grabbed his wallet from your nightstand, pulling out a condom before taking hold of his cock with his free hand.

"Wanna learn how to put this on?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"I'm not that clueless, Jason. I know how to do it," you replied, sitting on the bed.

"Well, you wanna lend a hand, then?" he asked, and you nodded, cheeks flushing. You took the condom from him, tearing open the package. There was a moment of hesitation before you took hold of him, running your thumb over the tip and spreading the pre-cum over his swollen head. He let out a grunt.

“Want me to suck you off first?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved your hand slowly. He let out a soft moan.

"I'd love it, but let's save it for another time," he replied, his voice husky. You blushed, the thought of a next time sending butterflies through your stomach. "Today's all about you, alright? Just wanna make you feel good."

"Well, you're killing it so far," you grinned, and he chuckled. You slid the condom on him, then leaned back on the bed, spreading your legs. Jason looked at you, stroking himself slowly with a sigh before getting back on top of you.

"There's still so much I wanna teach you," he whispered in your ear, and you let out a soft moan. "Loads of ways to make you lose it for me... You have no idea how sweet you taste."

"No one's ever talked to me like that before," you whispered, heart racing as you blushed. He grunted, planting soft kisses on your neck.

"Their loss," he replied before easing himself into you with a slow, steady movement. You let out a loud moan, clinging to him as you opened your legs wider to take him in deeper. He kissed your jaw, fully inside you now, your bodies hot and sweaty against each other. "You good?"

"I'm good," you whispered, and he let out a soft grunt before starting to move slowly. You buried your face in his neck, moaning as you felt him stretching you out, hitting all those sweet spots inside you. It was intoxicating, the mix of gentle ache and intense pleasure, far beyond anything you'd felt with anyone else. Your pussy throbbed, extra sensitive after your last orgasm, and Jason moaned your name, pulling you closer.

You curled your toes, lips seeking his out eagerly, knowing you wouldn't hold out much longer, the tension in your belly rising fast. Jason kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he tangled his hand in your hair, your lips moving together in a frenzy of soft moans and gentle bites. You were completely lost in him, in the sensation of him thrusting into you, picking up speed as you gave in to the pleasure of each other's touch.

"Jase... I'm gonna cum again," you moaned, and Jason grunted, his thrusts getting harder as he used one hand to play with your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts with quick motions.

You let out a sharp moan, feeling his hot, ragged breath against your skin as he showered you with soft kisses, driving your hips forward to deepen the connection. It was too much; your climax finally crashed over you, tears of pleasure rolling down your cheek as you held onto him tightly, your body clenching around him. Jason groaned, his movements becoming wilder as he was carried over the edge by the intensity of your release. He buried his face in your neck, fingers gripping your hair as his body trembled, delivering a few final thrusts before collapsing on top of you with a shaky sigh.

You closed your eyes, giggling as he peppered your jaw and then your lips with kisses. He slipped out of you, and you scooted over to make room for him to sit beside you. You watched as he disposed of the condom and headed to your bathroom. He was back in no time, his naked form gleaming with sweat, face flushed as he ran his hand through his hair.

"What's got you smiling?" he asked, a small grin playing on his lips. He settled down on the bed, running his hand over your thigh.

"That was amazing, Jase," you said, and he chuckled, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss.

"You feeling weird now or are we cool?" he asked, a touch of concern in his voice. You smiled softly.

"We're good. We could be friends with benefits, right? I hear some folks actually pull that off."

"Yeah," he smiled at you, twirling a strand of your hair on his fingers. "So, does that mean we're gonna do this again sometime?"

"You were the one talking about all the lessons you had in store for me," you teased, and he chuckled softly.

"Okay. It's a deal, then," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief, making you giggle. "But hey, we better get dressed before your brother or your folks come back home. Pretty sure they wouldn't be too thrilled to find out how we spent our afternoon."

You burst into laughter, sitting up on the bed and rummaging for your clothes. As you watched Jason get dressed, a grin spread across your face, thinking about how rough it would be to go back to those crappy dates after experiencing how amazing it felt to be with him.

You couldn't wait to see what else he had to teach you.

#metallica #metallica imagines #metallica headcannons #jason newsted #jason newsted headcannons #jason newsted x reader #jason newsted x you #jason newsted smut #metallica x reader #metallica x you #jason newsted fanfiction #metallica fanfiction #ada writes fanfiction

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red-write-hand · 6 months

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oh to be tommy's pretty secretary who had brown fluffy hair that he plays with as I sit by his feet while he works. oh to be tommy's secret male lover who tommy worships in the dead of night. oh to be the bartender at the Garrison; all the drunk Blinders flirting with me, too drunk to realize they are hitting on a very pretty boy. oh to be the childhood friend of the shelby siblings and having john and tommy fight over me while my straight cover is ada (plus I'm her straight cover too). oh to riding tommy's thigh, trying to get myself off while he works, while he doesn't pay a sliver of attention to the prince falling to pieces on his leg. oh to be bent over tommy's desk while he pounds into me while i cover my mouth so our secret will never be found out.

#my...uh...thoughts #cal goes on a rant #welcome back to cal has some ~thoughts~#tommy shelby x male reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #i have no energy to actually write this so have this instead #yes ada is also gay #what are you going to do about it?#🤨

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bettythemouse · 11 months

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Tommy Shelby Headcannon

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first writing post on my new account, any advice or criticism is greatly appreciated, please let me know what you think!

He sees you for the first time:

• Tommy seeing you for the first time would distract him greatly

• He’d be drinking at the Garrison, watching Arthur and John make drunken fools of themselves

• He’d go out for a smoke alone after a while, to catch his breath and concentrate on his thoughts

• And you?

• You’d be outside in the cold, smoking a cigarette of your own just a few meters away

• You wouldn’t dare go to the Garrison alone, despite how much you’d wanted a drink

• But Tommy would take the cig from his mouth, exhale, look around a bit

• and lay his eyes on you

• you

• Who were you?

• Suddenly all the plots and schemes and money stopped in his mind. He was distracted. Heavily distracted. Had he been talking with someone before seeing you, he would’ve shut up

• You didn’t see him yet. Even if you had, he stood without light in his face so you wouldn’t have recognised him or even realised who he was looking at

• But Tommy could see your face. He could see every detail, the mole on your cheek, the cupid shaped lip, the slight scowl on your face when ash blew onto your coat. And he was completely mesmerised

• You finished your cigarette, threw it to the ground and stamped on it. Cleared your throat and got ready to continue your walk-

• “Oh!”

• “My apologies.”

• “No, no, it was my fault, I couldn’t see where I was going.”

• You had unexpectedly bumped into someone. You couldn’t see them but you could tell they were male

• And polite

• You smiled at them, despite not fully being able to see their face and continued on your way, a little embarrassed

• And Tommy watched you. Watched you trail off into the night. And although he couldn’t see your face anymore, he was still mesmerised.

• And he knew

• Somehow

• That he’d see you again

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yurozo · 2 months

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the wolf and the lamb (leon x reader)

chapter two, a mouse trapped in bloodied claws:

synopsis: a seed of doubt begins to take bloom in your chest, watching ada slowly succumb to the infection. before you can react, you run into the agent that's meant to take away everything you've ever known. (ao3)

a/n: leon's finally here baby! let me know what y'all think

word count: 3.5k

Nothing seems truly alive here, in this crumbling village just past the borders of Spain. There is only the quiet, occasionally interrupted by the grumbling of villagers below you that fill the air’s emptiness. A flood of bustling footsteps marching in unison temporarily breaks the silence. The sound echoes throughout, a rattling thump, until it fades into nothingness. Weapons carved from homogeneity, born into a persistent numbness to their existence before. You almost envy the simplicity of their existence, repeating the same domestic rituals with dragging feet and half-garbled sentences.

Wesker told you to start at the village, wait until she makes herself known, and keep your eye on anyone who might try and interfere. The woman in red is trustworthy enough for him, but the whispering of another actor in his grand design is too loud to ignore, a man determined to bring down everything he holds dear. To take you away from him, his precious masterpiece, and turn you into a weaker thing. Thus, you were cast from your iron podium, nothing more than a spectator to his and the woman’s scheme unless the moment called for it.

For such a critical factor of his ineffable plan, it is painstakingly boring .

You whisper ramblings to the open air to no answer, a meek attempt to quell the rising boredom that slowly lulls you to sleep. A monologue to an absent god, if anyone even existed up there. Sitting at the bell tower’s highest level allows you to see everything happening, but it’s far away from the action. Occasionally, your eyes wander over to the bull mulling about in its pen, and you wonder how its blood would feel between your fingers.

You close your eyes, if only for a moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the daydream. Your mind supplies images of your hands digging inside your own chest, gripping the tendons and flesh holding the fragile organ together. Your fingers struggle to squeeze the organ in a futile attempt to keep it still.

The sound of a scream breaks your reverie, along with the livelier bustle of villagers as they file out of their desolate houses. You watch them drag a screaming man to the middle of the square, his blood mixing into the dirt.

A flash of blue. A uniform.

There’s this aching feeling in your chest, your heart hammering itself against your ribcage like angry fists on a concrete wall.

The man wails as the nails are hammered into his limbs, pinning his body to a crudely made cross. His screams fill the emptiness moments later as the fire licks upwards and consumes him entirely. You hear his final words– a desperate cry to the sky above. It’s enough of a show to entertain you, for the time being, until you can catch wind of your real target.

Who is pointedly still not here for some reason.

You hear a knife being unsheathed and the sick crunch of bone when you realize the show is only beginning. Crawling to the edge of the bell tower’s ledge, you watch a man gingerly place the body of one of the village women out of sight before swiping at an herb to shove it in his pocket. The other villagers spot him moments later, rushing toward him with relentless anger. That aching silence is once again shattered by the unrelenting sound of gunshots.

You watch the fight ensue, chin resting in your palm, momentarily sated by the entertainment of seeing the villagers fall one by one. The man is clearly experienced, obvious in the practiced elegance with which he handles his weapon, but still young– if the momentary stiffness in his shoulders every time a villager prepares to fight is anything to go by. The hoard seems never-ending, and as time ticks by, the man is clearly starting to reach the limits of his energy. This sophisticated dance of bullets and blood is nearing its conclusion, and you’ll be damned if you let those blubbering subordinates get a one-up.

If what Wesker said about this agent is true, it will be you who gets the glory of the kill.

Your foot shoots out and kicks the bell, the sound reverberating in your ears. The ringing is enough to signal to the horde that their momentary goal is completed, leading the stragglers to wander off towards the tower. They saunter off with glazed eyes, leaving the man standing in complete bewilderment. Before you can hop off the ledge, you hear him mutter something to himself, and you can only huff in passing amusement.

A second later, you see a streak of red shoot past you, disappearing among the houses before you can react. The game is beginning.

–

The woman in red, for the little that you trust her, is at least a more entertaining watch. She’s incredibly skilled, precise in each shot with a steadfastness that almost scares you. Every attack is perfectly timed, each movement without a wasted breath. There’s a reason why Wesker chose her– she’s efficient, deadly, and clearly knows better than to ask questions. Some unbidden part of you admires it, how easily she can follow orders without giving into any desire for more . She flourishes in this institution with a grace you could never achieve while still being able to retain an inherent virtue that you envy.

Despite your obedience, despite this binding attachment to Wesker, a part of you always wondered if there was more to this. More than the lab, than the cell, than this inescapable position at the heel of his foot. Perhaps if you were better, if you obeyed every command without a moment’s hesitation, maybe he would make you more than just a conveyer of his whim. Maybe you could be more like her, unattached and cool in the face of everything.

Someone like her is who he would always prefer. You knew that.

Your earpiece crackles as you hide yourself behind a chimney.

“Update.” Wesker’s voice rings through your ear, a touch of annoyance in his tone. He’s upset about something, and a part of you cowers at being the target of his ire. “We’ve lost Luis’ signal in the forest. I’ve sent Ada to track his last known location.”

“Understood.” You sigh, eyes flicking down to where Ada racing away on her grappling hook. “I’ll make sure to follow and keep you updated.

Wesker is uncharacteristically silent on the other end, only the faint sound of breathing audible over the earpiece. “Any sign of the man?”

Your heart stutters in your chest and slows to an eventual halt. He knows. A part of him must know, aware of this growing seed of doubt in your chest. “Caught him once in the village. He seems skilled.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Wesker snaps, the noise squealing in your ear. You wince.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You try to take a steadying breath as you step off the roof, your boots crunching in the dirt below. Despite every movement accomplished in Wesker’s name, it always ends with you begging in forgiveness– kneeling at his boot and pleading for another chance. “I don’t think he’ll be a threat."

–

Something instinctually doesn’t trust Luis. There’s this aching disdain towards his position as a researcher that unsettles you, something core in his existence that boils this pit in your gut. You wonder is he shares the same affection towards his construction as the man who created you, or if he’s acting out of regret for all that he’s created. You wonder if the answer would change anything.

Even if you’ve never met the man, you can’t help but wonder if his life is really all that worth saving. He made the Plagas, turned these humans into these weaker things that are doomed for extinction. Something stronger will only come around and put them out of their terrible misery.

Ada stumbles back to the village below you, clutching the side of her chest with a wince. A momentary instant of weakness there, this human part of her that seeps through her stone exterior. She stumbles forward, her head folded down.

There’s something wrong .

You hear the gunshot before you can see what she’s aiming at. There’s just enough time to hide behind a stone wall, knees folded into the harsh gravel. With a harsh breath, you peek your head out just enough to see into the square without exposing yourself fully. Ada is shooting into the open air, launching herself at nothing in particular. She must be seeing something you’re not, mind clouded by something you can’t put a name on.

It isn’t until you see the cloaked figure of a bioweapon behind her that everything clicks into place. This sick feeling of disappointment twists in your chest. You crumple behind the stone, pressing your earpiece once with a sigh.

“Update.” You whisper into the mic, voice quiet so as to not attract Ada’s attention. You’re not even sure if she can hear you over the gunshots, but you can’t risk Wesker’s anger.

His voice cuts in a moment later. “Speak.”

“Something isn’t right.” The gunshots falter, the click of an empty magazine clear through the village, and you hear her groan in pain. “She’s infected. Looks to be early stages.”

Wesker heaves a deep sigh, his voice clipping in annoyance. “Compromised?”

You peek over the wall once more, watching her inspect the handgun with great focus and mutter something to herself. “Most likely. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Fix it.” The earpiece crackles before finally falling silent.

The silence gnaws at this softer part of you, one hidden beneath tears of calloused skin. For someone trusted enough to be given such a significant responsibility in his project, for someone who navigates Wesker’s design without uncertainty, Ada is thrown away like nothing. Part of you wants to believe that this is a necessary evil, this ability to know which pieces in the game to sacrifice for the greater good.

If a greater good exists in this circumstance. The thought of more people like you wandering the same land you occupy, teeth bared at all the weaker things who are unfortunate enough to be in its proximity. You wonder what would happen to you in those circumstances, if Wesker would remove the dagger or simply let the skin grow around it.

Ada crumples to the ground, weeping silently in pain. Wesker would have been disappointed at such a blatant sign of weakness, would have held a gun to her head and ended the pain as swiftly as he could. That’s what he valued most: strength. The strength to survive every circumstance and the strength to take out the faulty pawns when they could no longer move across the board. The sight of Ada slowly succumbing to the infection and clutching at the gashes in her arms would have been enough reason to toss her away with the rest of them.

You remember the tubes of littered corpses in the lab, forever stuck in this stasis of not-quite-really-living. It would have been a waste of her, you think, of her physical prowess reduced to this barely living corpse. You silently rise to your feet and walk into the closest building, careful to stay out of her sight. It would have been easy to tear her apart when she’s distracted and injured; soft flesh is nothing to sharpen and aged claws. Her back is facing you– half the work is done already.

Something stops you, something much stronger than your desperate need to obey.

There was no satisfaction in killing someone half-dead already, and that terribly soft part of you rises to the surface.

You suppose the infection would take her one way or the other.

–

The Ganados are an easy enough target for distraction. Slashing through bone feels easy– natural, even. This animalistic instinct to end this sad existence they’ve carved out for themselves overtakes you, and it’s not long until their blood is pooling around your feet. It’s the better alternative to thinking about your momentary weakness, that hesitation to follow orders from the only person who ever cared about you. Disobeying Wesker is not an action that comes without consequences. It is a darkness veiled over you that festers guilt like a mold.

He gave you strength, and this is the payment you give in return. He built you from nothing, meticulously stitched parts of you back together until you became something more than some sniveling weak child. He tore every soft part of you and replaced it with metal and bone and helped you when the pain pulled at each fiber of your being.

And yet, you hesitated. All because you wondered if he would love you still with the soft parts intact. If he would throw you away if something stronger took your place.

You hear the door swing open as you rip into the last Ganado’s chest, hands dripping with its ichor. There’s barely time to react before you hear a loud shot and feel a bullet tearing its way into your shoulder. The pain is only momentary, a slight distraction from the intruder who had the nerve to shoot you.

You turn your head– a small, barely noticeable movement. Your features begin to catch in the light as you step forward, firm muscles and vein-riddled skin splattered with blood. A flash of blue fills your vision before it trains on the pistol aimed directly between your eyes, white knuckles hovering over the trigger. You see his eyes fall to your hands, at the still-pulsating heart clutched desperately within bloodied, sharp claws.

“The hell are you?�� The man snaps, taking a step back. His eyes flit up to your shoulder, where the flesh is rapidly stitching itself back together. It’s clear that your appearance takes him aback: the matted hair, sharp eyes, and veins bulging out of scarred skin. Every part of it is unnatural, like something fighting to break its way out. A woman poised and bred to kill.

His eyes eventually wander back down to your hands, to the blood dripping down unceremoniously onto the floor. Your head tilts slightly, but his expression doesn’t change, still stern and serious.

You recognize what he’s doing: sizing you up, seeing where he lies on this hierarchy of predator and prey.

You smell his fear and know his answer.

Prey.

That delicious scent of fear reminds you of someone, although you can’t quite place who. It doesn’t really matter; you can only focus on the way it permeates every sense and sharpens that instinct to devour. There’s something different about him– this thrill to destroy seems amplified a thousand times over. It’s been so long since you tasted it: bioweapons aren’t truly controlled by survival instincts, simply throwing themselves at their goal with reckless abandon to their own life. This is different, this is someone in a shitty situation with everything to lose. Its taste is magnified by some other feeling you can’t name, but it’s fucking delicious.

You can only smile at the man’s realization, this sharp and crooked action that feels entirely unnatural. He takes another step back. You step forward in response.

His eyes are flickering across your face, searching for something. Perhaps some kind of sign, a hint of humanity or empathy behind those pitch-black eyes. He finds only a forest fire of rage, restrained only by your obedience and lightened by curiosity.

“Leave.” Your voice cuts through the dense air between you, fully turning towards him. A part of you hopes that he will pay heed and run for it. There was always something about the chase, the unpredictability of someone skilled enough to keep it difficult, that always had your heart pounding in your chest. This could be the recompense for your unforgivable sin, bringing back the head of the agent that threatened Wesker’s mission. It was easier to kill someone willing to fight back and sharp enough to bite than one scrambling and pleading for a chance to live.

“Like hell I will.” The man scoffs, straightening his back. A meager attempt at confidence, you think, like a stray cat backed into a corner with its fur straight.

You grin. “Final warning.”

His body visibly tenses, adrenaline pumping through his veins. You can almost admire his steadfastness, the way he doesn’t cower in front of you but only tightens his finger on the trigger. He’s strong despite his age. Despite his soft flesh and beating heart that could be easily torn to shreds.

“I’m not leaving until I know what-” He pauses, a slight tremble in his hands. “ -who you really are.”

His statement confuses you, if only for a second. There’s a flicker of curiosity blooming in your chest at the man who still refuses to shoot her again. Being fearful of a beast coiling around your chest is one thing; asking for its name is another. Most of your targets never hesitate in their responses, either attacking in a scant attempt at continuance or folding when they realize they’re outmatched. This man does neither. He stands his ground and stalls. His decision lies in this void of ambiguity– questions the dog baring its teeth.

He doesn’t seem happy with your lack of an answer. “Who are you?”

“Does it matter?” You finally answer, tilting your head playfully at him like a cat toying with a half-dead mouse.

“It matters to me.” He breathes out, his lips pursed in thought. “A fucking sentient bioweapon. Just my shitty luck.”

If only he knew. If he could understand this weight thrust upon you as a beast of burden, doomed to live in an eternal position of obedience. Where softness is weakness, to be tender-hearted in your world is to resign yourself to death without a chance of fighting back. It means your final words will forever be an echoing and dying bark.

“Something like that.” Is all you can answer.

“Great.” He chokes out a nervous laugh, gritting his teeth in frustration. His fingers tighten on the pistol. “Another one of you, let out of the lab for God knows what reason.”

Your chest stings at the comment and hardens your expression. “Sounds like you have experience.”

“I’ve seen my fair share.” There’s a faraway look, if only for a moment, as if he’s reminiscing on something far lost to him. You had that look once, too, many ages ago, when there was something other in your chest than wrath and sinew. “You don’t look like any I’ve seen.”

You watch the slight tremor in his hands, a giveaway to the fear hidden beneath that stony facade. There’s no doubt in his experience, you’ve witnessed the adept way he handled the ones in the village. A second nature almost, not too dissimilar to yours.

“There’s no one else like me.” Your lips curl into a sharp grin, all devilish sharp teeth. For now , at least.

“That I don’t doubt.” He pauses for a moment, lowering the gun a fraction. “You going to make me kill you?”

“You shot first. I believe it’s my move.” You take a slow step towards him, a fluid and practiced motion of intimidation. “Shall I give you a headstart?”

“Whatever the hell you’re planning, I want no part of it.” He takes another shaky step backward, pressing himself against the front door. “I’m here for the girl, and that’s it.”

A beat. You freeze, brows furrowed in confusion. “Girl?”

Your hesitance clearly doesn’t convince him; his eyes narrowed, and his mouth turned into a frown. “Don’t bullshit me. The president’s daughter. Tell me where the hell she is, or I’ll shoot you again.”

You decide against telling him that it would be futile and would only succeed in momentarily slowing you down. Wesker claimed he was there to throw a cog into his grand design, to take you away and tear you apart like they do the others, not save some girl . Maybe Wesker had plans for her. The very thought of it makes you sick, thinking of him replicating you onto some lesser thing.

“You’re not here for me?” You take a step back, your voice faltering slightly. Wesker couldn’t be wrong. He wouldn’t lie to you. This agent is here to rip you away from your life and dismantle this precarious control you’ve carved out for yourself.

He scoffs. “I don’t even know who the hell you are.”

He should. There was only one of you. You were Wesker’s grand design, not something to be copied onto those who couldn’t handle the weight of this burden. You couldn’t be lumped into a circle with these lesser beings that only existed as a testing ground. No one else would understand this terrible strength you were given– they were the losing dogs in this ring of power, and you and Wesker were the winning dogs.

Before you can answer him, you throw a flash grenade onto the ground and disappear from sight.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy/reader #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 4 #re4r #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfiction #albert wesker #ada wong #bioweapon reader babey!!!#yuro's writings

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alvivaarts · 3 months

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Genuinely Correct Simulation Swarm Quotes

aka, an excuse for me to post funny little lines and zingers as I get over my writer's block

Don't let this fool you though, this entire fic is marginally more sad.

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 7 months

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Option 1 (CoD) Characters Included:

König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves (+ some headcanons including the Shadows)

Option 2 (RE) Characters Included:

Leon Kennedy (RE4 Remake to be specific but RE2 makes a sneak peek), Carlos Oliveira, Jill Valentine, Ada Wong

A/n: these are all current wips (works in progresses) of mine and they're all going to be posted soon, I just need motivation and I need a decision on which one is coming out first. (Still working on that godforsaken long-ass Ellie Williams x Reader AU Series)

Link to Knight!Ellie post (Knight!Abby will exist within the same universe)

#cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod headcanons #konig x reader #horangi x reader #keegan russ x reader #philip graves x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #carlos oliveria x reader #jill valentine x reader #ada wong x reader #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson x reader #the last of us fanfiction #resident evil fanfiction #call of duty fanfiction #Aethelwyne Lia writes

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starlessskies94 · 3 months

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Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: JoelMiller x OC

Note: For some reason this one was rather difficult for me to write and I'm still not 100% happy with it. However I hope it doesn't disappoint because I don't want to obsess too much to the point of causing myself writers block so I'm posting, moving on and hoping for the best. *Trigger warning- description of a panic attack*

Chapter Twenty Eight

He felt numb. His heart ached, smashing to pieces like every window in the room. Shattered glass littered the floor around him, broken bricks leaving dents in the floor from where they’d been thrown. His hands were trembling so much that he hadn’t even noticed they were bleeding. It had been over an hour since they’d driven away with Ada and Joel still hadn’t any idea what to do. He could follow their trail but knew he’d be outnumbered. He could head off in the opposite direction and hopefully meet Tommy at the radio tower, but the longer he left Ada the more risk she’d have of being tortured or worse. He was running out time.

He needed to make a decision. He swore that he’d keep her safe. That those bastards wouldn’t touch her and he’d failed. Just as he’d failed to stop Ellie and Tommy from getting hurt back in Jackson.

Just as he’d failed to save Sarah.

He was weak, broken. Collapsing under the weight of it. Dropping to his knees, chest tight and suffocating. He pulled at the neckline of his shirt in a feeble attempt to force the air back into his struggling lungs. His breaths were ragged and short. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Feet and hands tingle as his vision is blurred and dizzy. He couldn’t do this. Not anymore. What was the point of fighting? The point of possessing so much strength if he couldn’t even protect the people he loved.

He was falling and this time he could see no way out.

Dark shapes rush into his vision, as hands grab onto the front of his jacket. “Joel…easy; deep breaths. In and out…” the voice sounded a thousand miles away. “Joel, look at me.” The voice said again. “What’s wrong with him?” Another voice asked in distress. The question was answered though hell if Joel knew what was said. “Joel…can you hear me?” That voice, he knew that voice, for the longest time he didn’t think he’d ever hear it again. He took a deep breath and held it for a second or two before letting it go. Repeating the process several times as his vision began to clear and his chest settled from the rapid palpitations hammering through flesh and bone. “Ellie?” he croaked. “Yeah it’s me. Just breathe slow like Tommy said okay? You’re alright.”

He felt the knot in his chest loosen at the sight of her and Tommy. His brother, kneeling on one side of him and Ellie on the other.

“Hey, you good?” Tommy asked tentatively. Joel just nodded his head and took another deep breath. “Yeah I’m good, thanks.” He said, patting him on his shoulder. Tommy smiled as relief flooded his face. Letting his weight take him as he sat fully beside Joel.

“Anytime. It’s good to see you alive, big brother.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Both brothers paused at the question. Joel looked across at Ellie, the tension thick between them. Was she still angry at him? Did she still hate him? She didn’t look mad. If anything she looked worried. Just like she had when he’d found himself impaled back at the university. Scared. Concerned. Fragile. Looking into those large eyes staring at him now, it was like she was fourteen again. Except she wasn’t. Not anymore. She’d grown up. All grown up. And Joel had missed most of it. He gave a ghost of a smile and took a chance.

“I’m good, kiddo. Don’t you worry about me.” He dismissed, in that way that he always did. But he froze when he saw Ellie’s eyes widen at his words. Shit. Had he said the wrong thing? He seemed to have a habit of doing that around Ellie. But her brows lost their crease; her face falling pale. Eyes welling with tears. A small broken gasp escaping her chapped lips.

“Wait, you…called me kiddo…you know who I am?” He almost cried himself hearing how broken she sounded asking the question.

Oh baby girl. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.

“Course’ I do, could never forget you.” He chuckled in spite of himself. His heart ached at the warmth that filled her gaze at him. He was caught off guard when she flung herself at him in a hug. It felt like coming home. The only thing missing was Ada. He squeezed her tightly; not wanting to let go. This had been something he’d thought gone. And he’d be damned if he ever let her go ever again.

“Oh hey… it’s okay. I’m okay.” They both knew he wasn’t just talking about his injuries. His memory loss. Their broken relationship. It was about everything. Ellie had said herself that she’d wanted to try to forgive him. Maybe now they had this second chance to fix things; she find it in her heart to really do that. And even if she couldn’t, Joel was just grateful she wanted anything to do with him at all. He’d take what he could get. Even if it was just this. Just this one small minute made up for the two years of silence and pain.

It was quickly broken by Tommy rising to his feet and surveying the damage that surrounded them.

“What the hell happened here Joel?” He asked in concern. It was hard not to be. The infected littering the ground, the bullet holes plastered into the walls and doors. It was evident there had been a fight and struggle of some sort here. Joel tried not to look over at the blood stains that marked the sidewalk. Ada’s blood. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried not to dwell on the events flashing through his mind once again.

“She’s gone…those bastards took her. I wanted to stop them but she wouldn’t let me.” He saw them both pale at the news and tried to keep his composure as he explained.

They sat with him as he told them all that had happened that morning. What he and Ada had figured out between them and their plan to find them and decide how to move forward. He saw the darkness in Ellie’s eyes as he told them what they’d done to her mother before dragging her away. Her expression was stone-like and harsh. He recognised the hatred and anger in her eyes as he had seen in his own; the only difference was; he hated seeing it in Ellie. It tormented him as he followed them back to the theater they’d apparently been staying in. There was still tension in the air. Joel felt like he was drowning in it; his head swaying like a limp tree in a harsh wind. And it wasn’t the after effects of his panic attack.

He watched Ellie up ahead; seemingly leading the way. She strode with purpose, confidence. She’d grown so much in the last two years. Damn he’d missed so much. It had been hard not being part of her life for all that time. Especially because Ada had tried her hardest to bridge the divide between them again. But every time the teen pushed back. Now Joel wasn’t sure where he stood. She’d hugged him like she missed him. The concern in her features had seemed sincere. And Tommy had said that she had been the first one of the group to pack her stuff when they’d planned to head out to look for him.

As they made their way back through the town; Joel followed as they led him towards the old building. However he paused when he felt the pair flinch at a corner. Ellie pulled out her gun as did Tommy. They both seemed in sync with each other as they split up and flanked opposite sides and moved along the side of the building's walls, Joel followed suit. Instincts perhaps a little rusty but still there; and positioned himself with his back to the wall as they moved further forward advancing towards the door.

A man from what he could make out was trying rather harshly to wrench the handle of the large door. His hood was up making it difficult to see the intruder's face. Ellie darted forward with her gun trained on him, finger already on the trigger and ready to shoot. The fact that she didn’t hesitate bothered Joel, he didn’t like seeing her so unfazed by the possibility of killing. “Don’t fucking move.” She spat. The man froze, raising his hands in surrender. “Turn around slowly.” the man did as she said. But the moment he turned, all weapons were instantly withdrawn as Ellie sighed in relief.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She asked. Jesse dropped his arms in a bout of relief at seeing his friends. “I wanted to help you guys find Joel…” He stopped short as Tommy cleared his throat, catching the young man’s attention. “But…Uh…I see you guys already found him…” Ellie held back a small laugh as she exhaled through her nose, “Hello Sir, glad to see you’re okay.” He uttered awkwardly, Joel just smiled politely. “Thank you son. I appreciate your wanting to help.” Jesse nodded, trying to hide the pride that beamed in his chest from the given praise. Ellie knew Jesse had always respected Joel greatly and his opinion meant more than he’d ever admit. “How the hell did you find us?” Tommy asked. Jesse just shrugged with a smirk; “You guys were not easy to track but I had a good teacher.” The younger Miller scoffed jovially at the comment, “Kiss ass.” “What are you talking about? I meant Maria.”

Joel snorted as Tommy’s face fell. “Walked right into that one didn’t you.” His brother just scoffed sarcastically “Yeah well, I’m sure we all got plenty to catch up on. So we should probably head inside.”

Ellie wasted no time and quickly ushered everyone inside the theater. Dina rushing to the door when she heard their footsteps. She was taken aback when she saw both Joel and Jesse walking through into the lobby. Ellie tried not to react when she rushed towards Jesse, grabbing him in a hug. The two hurry inside sharing hushed whispers as they go. The redhead walks on past them and heads for the back room, Joel watching her as she goes. He turns to ask Tommy if he’s missed something going on but his brother just replies with a knowing look and follows after Ellie.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stares at the map of the town laid out on the large table that sits in the center of the room. Voices fade in and out of focus as she’s lost in her own thoughts.

“Ellie?...Ellie…” A voice calls, catching her attention as she glances up to see every face looking at her. It had been a few hours since they’d come back. Had some well deserved food and restocked on supplies before gathering in the back room to plan their next move to rescue her mother. But so far she’d paid no attention to any of it. Her mind had been processing a million things at once. To get back one parent, only to then lose the other was too much for her. To hear what those fuckers had done to her mother made her blood boil to the point of almost exploding. But she knew she had to be smart if they were going to get her back. If they were going to get home.

She turned towards Tommy as he called for attention again. “Sorry…run that by me again.” She said a little too rushed. But thankfully Tommy didn’t question it. Dina took the moment of silence to turn up the radio by the side of the room as the frequency crackled to life. She’d managed to fix it in the time she’d spent alone, explaining to the group it was a loose connection that had been easily rectified. She moved back towards the map and pulled out a marker as she pinpointed different spots for everyone to see.

“Okay…so, the numbers are locations. See? The radio tower? That’s six. And there’s a lot of chatter coming out of two, so I’m assuming that’s their home base.” She explained. “What about the hospital? I’m pretty sure they're based there too.” Tommy asked. Dina took a second to glance over the map before pointing to the other side of town. “There? I think. Thirteen maybe? I have heard some orders being sent out from there. But it’s not much to go on.” The man deflated at the information, silence falling on the group. “I’ve watched them for the last few days, they take day and night shifts. Reckon it’d be easier to move at night when the groups are smaller.” Joel suggested, as Ellie nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea but we still have no leads on where they’ve taken mom.” They shared a look, both worried for wife and mother. Jesse glanced at Dina and Tommy; the three sharing the same thought. If anyone was going to find Ada…it was those two. Just as the younger Miller moved to speak up, the radio once again crackled to life.

‘Fatality reported in Nine. Repeat fatality in Nine. Over. This is thirteen responding. What’s the situation? Over. This is Nine. One of our own was killed by the lone female prisoner. Prisoner is now detained. Requesting further orders. Over.’

“Female prisoner?” Jesse questioned. Joel and Ellie wasted no time in jumping to action. “They’re talking about Ada. Quick Dina, which location is nine?” Joel asked. “Uh…I’m not sure. It could be one of two possible places. One is here…” She pointed to the map stating the downtown area. “The courthouse…and the other is here…” She moved her hand to the other side of the map. “At the town hall. But they’re at opposite ends of each other and I don’t know for sure which it is.” He nodded. “Okay, then we split up. Tommy, you and Jesse head for the town hall and Ellie and I can make our way downtown to the courthouse. Dina could you stay here and keep a track of their movements on the radio.” “Of course.” She smiled. The others wasted no time in packing up once again, making their move towards the door and heading out. Tommy gave Joel a pat on his shoulder before leaving, telling him to stay safe. His older brother returned the words in turn before watching him and Jesse head out. He waited patiently by the door for Ellie to catch up, giving her the time she needed to say goodbye to Dina.

He wouldn’t push this time. If she needed space, he would give her that. When she finally emerged from the back room she walked past him without a word and he tried not to take it personally. It would take time to be like they were again. Joel knew that. If he wanted her trust back, he’d have to earn it.

#writing #the last of us #joel and ellie #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams #joel miller #personal #starlessskies writes #tlou #fanfiction #Joel Miller x oc #Joel x Ada

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starseaweed · 1 month

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Part two is here! It was originally just one big block of text that I’ve split into smaller sections, and this comes directly after the first piece so the previous part is very necessary for understanding what’s happening!

~ Despite his habits, Loud continued to survive, and so Mono and Six kept following him. Making sure to always stay out of sight, while getting to see many things. Monsters, like a large Adult that marched forward with boots even louder than Loud. And more not-Adults, two that died, and one that stayed with Loud for a little while.

Six had pointed at Loud and the one that stayed, comparing the pair to themselves. She seemed to think she was like the other not-adult, a woman with dark glasses and a cool temperament. Nose wrinkled under his bag, Mono had shaken his head. The woman had saved Loud from the Adults, just like how Mono saved Six many times. Until Loud saved the woman, hurting himself in the process.

Six had folded her arms and smirked, but Mono was more concerned for their guide. They needed to keep moving, and Loud was their way forward. Without him, they had no defense against the twisted Adults that came by. If he wasn’t going to move, they had to just continue on without him.

He seemed soundly asleep, at least for now. His body slumped and unmoving against the wall where the glasses woman had carefully laid him. Mono, still debating what to do, failed to notice Six approaching Loud. She kicked him once to see if he was still alive.

Turning around, Mono saw her standing right next to Loud’s boot and panicked. “Oi…!” What are you doing?! Six gestured. “…ahh.” He has weapons we can use.

Spreading his arms wide and pointing, Mono indicated, He’s still alive. Then he tilted his head. How would we use his weapons?! You can barely hold one of those round things! “Fight.” She crossed her arms. He has lots of weapons. I’ll find something.

With that, she started poking around the unconscious not-Adult, and Mono sighed. Well, he had been wanting to pocket one of the keys Loud had held onto, plus the not-adult seemed firmly asleep. Shaking himself, Mono clambered out of the vent he’d been hiding in, and nervously paced up to Loud. Though the glasses woman had bandaged his wound, it still looked pretty serious. Maybe this would be fine, after all?

As his partner started pulling out the ammunition from Loud’s weaponry, Mono started digging through numerous oversized pockets. He pulled out bundles of plants, spare ammunition, a knife… But where was the key? Staring up at the imposing not-Adult’s figure, Mono inhaled, and clambered on top of him. “Oi!” Six gasped. Are you crazy? He grunted in response as he peeled open a satchel. This was your idea! A little “Ah.” escaped his lips when he finally found the key.

Grabbing a weapon similar to the round exploding one she liked, Six did her best to motion while her arms were full. “Hey!” You got the stupid key. Let’s go!

“Okay.” I’m going, I’m going! Mono huffed, realizing that the fancy key wouldn’t fit under his coat like the others. He’d just have to carry it with both hands. As he slipped his way down Loud’s sleeping form, he kept a tight hold of it, right up until he dropped back to the floor.

The key clattered, and he bit his tongue. With a groan, Loud shifted, his arm almost knocking into Mono. “Ah!” Holding her new weapon tight, Six turned around. You dummy! Mono fumbled with the key for a second, before picking it up and dashing in her direction. He could hear Loud mumbling something, before the not-Adult sucked in a breath.

“Ada?” ~

What do you think? I wanted to have Mono and Six communicating, but that clashes with the original games’ lack of dialogue. The heavy silence is a big part of the atmosphere, and the children had no one to teach them proper language, so they use mostly non-verbal ques! First | Next

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thekingwhereitallends · 2 months

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I decided to write a one shot, turns out there was too much plot so i had to make it a double chapter, the hardest part is when you don't plan on having two characters develop an intimate bond but then you figure out that it'll be not just a wasted opportunity to flesh out characters but also rubs the story of a crucial dramatic tension.

As obsessed as i am with angst and tragedy, there is an issue i deal with as a writer (and i know that many people suffer from this damn thing) and that is you grow to cherish your characters.

Have you been so mad at a mangaka or comic book author for doing your fave characters dirty? Yes. So upset and desperate that you are willing to challenge yourself and have things go according to your plan, in your own ideal alternate universe.

I was writing this mitsusara one shot (called tsukuyomi x amaterasu) i published here. I wasn't really thinking of Mitsuki caring about Ada that much, perhaps only sympathizing with her for her opposing feelings withing the heart. But then i reached where i realized Mitsuki misses a motive and without it, people will be like "this boy is just a stereotypical jealous boyfriend" while in reality that is far from truth.

In two of flashbacks, two very short moments was all that it took to impress all the readers who left a comment (i constantly ask them to tell me what they think of different aspects of the story since i am the most stoic critic and look for ways to perfect myself). At the last phase of the fanfic when i was almost finished with everything, i began to summarize it from the beginning to end to visualize and feel the story with every single cell in my body just to be sitting like this:

Jesus christ Ada's moments with Mitsuki hit me much harder than i expected. I can't even imagine Mitsuki exist without Ada as she becomes one of biggest fuels that motivate him to indescripable heights.

What i'm saying is not that all characters have to be involved with another, just that sometimes you have to expand your vision and see the chemistry berween two of your sweet babies. You won't regret it, believe me.

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akuma-tenshi · 3 months

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i love coa bc i can make luchino diruse say fuck and nobody's allowed to say anything abt it bc we don't know much about emergency transport luchi's characterisation

#rambling #not gonna tag bc it's just a single mention #i may actually post the full thing later on #but i'm writing this mildly sleep-deprived so it may also never see the light of day #writing #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #fanfic #for context ada just stole his gun and threatened to shoot him #you get no context for why she did so #just know everyone's in a bit of a tight situation rn

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rohansdisciple · 10 months

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ADA FIC IS DROPPING AT 5PM EST TIME TOMORROW 🧏🏾‍♀️‼️

updates i’m the re blogs <33 !

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allmoshnobrain · 8 months

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─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

How would dating early 80's James Hetfield be like?

A headcanon list by yours truly

☆ When you two first crossed paths, you were convinced he didn’t like you because he had this super serious vibe whenever you were around, but then you'd catch him being all chill with his friends. Little did you know, he was just super shy and totally into you.

☆ You started noticing these adorable little hints and signs he dropped. There'd be a sneaky touch on the arm that sent shivers down your spine, or those hugs that lasted just a teensy bit longer than the norm. He was head over heels for you, and those tiny gestures were his way of showing it because he was too insecure to be direct about it.

☆ Even when you two officially started dating, he wasn't exactly a poet with words in public. He preferred the language of touch; his hand holding yours, casually resting on your waist, or draping an arm around your shoulders. His silent declarations of love were all about physical touch.

☆ He also loves cuddling so much 😭 He's got an insatiable appetite for affection, especially when it comes to snuggling up. You'd catch him burying his nose in your hair, taking in that sweet scent of yours while wrapped up in each other's arms. He just loves your smell and the warm feel of your skin against his.

☆ From the moment you became his girlfriend, he made it his personal mission to make you giggle with the most absurd, random antics ever. He's a one-man circus of silliness, just to see that beautiful smile light up your face. All of that because your laughter is his absolute favorite soundtrack in the world.

☆ He's all about sharing interests. It's like he's on a quest to become your personal expert in all the things you adore. And he's not just stopping there; he's all about roping you into his world too! You're practically a VIP guest at the band's rehearsals because he's got to share how much he loves it with you.

☆ He's totally smitten when you sneakily snag his t-shirts. It's like a secret turn-on for him when you wake up in the morning, rocking just his oversized tee and nothing else after a night together.

☆ In bed, you both started a bit shy and inexperienced, but soon found out that you enjoy trying all sorts of positions, toys, etc. Because of that, you imagined he'd be more submissive, but he gradually discovers how much he enjoys dominating you 💖

#i should be writing my wip but i've been thinking about this #he's got such goofy boyfriend energy #fav boy ever #i have different headcanons for different eras of james but early 80s is my absolute fave #metallica #metallica imagines #metallica headcanon #james hetfield #james hetfield headcanon #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield x you #james hetfield smut #metallica x reader #metallica x you #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica fanfiction #ada writes fanfiction

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stardustwritings · 11 months

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Requests are open and I have to be real you can literally just send me a name and a name alone at this point i’m going through so much writers block.

I’ll write for pretty much anyone in resident evil. Please 🙏

#stardust writings #resident evil #resident evil x reader #x reader #scenarios #leon kennedy #ada wong #chris redfield #jill valentine #piers nivans #rebecca chambers #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil requests #sherry birkin #jake muller #lady dimitrescu #please god request i’m out of ideas

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obviousanon · 11 months

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New chapter of Forgiveness From Your Judge, Jury, and Executioner (Go Ahead and Meet Your Maker) Get y'all's food.

Preview:

"I'm... Ugh, what the fuck..." Leon rubs at his face, examining his hands right after, dismissive of Luis' question, "Where's Ashley? Where's my dog?"

Luis raises an eyebrow. Maybe Leon's memory wasn't all cracked up as he might've assumed. "Oye señor, did you hit your head? This isn't 2004."

Leon scowls, shoving at his arm softly to keep some distance between them, "No... No, she's here, where is she?"

The Agent lifts his torso to sit up again, this time Luis doesn't stop him, the Agent throwing off his blanket hastily. He watches as Leon pats around his body in search of what Luis assumes was his gear, having already been stripped from his body when they were saving his life. Luis' eyebrows scrunch up.

"What do you mean Ashley's here?" Luis tempts fate to ask, his heart pounding.

Leon bites the inside of his cheek, letting his legs slip off the edge to sit properly, searching for his words. Luis kneels at his side, carefully judging his movements.

"We're on a mission together."

#serennedy #luis serra #leon kennedy #resident evil #fan fic #my fic #fanfiction #fic writing #resident evil fic #ada wong #ashley graham

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hb-writes · 1 year

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Remember Before?

Summary: It’s 1921 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. Clara is whisked away to London for the weekend to stay with Ada and Freddie while Tommy deals with one of Arthur's unpredictable moods. Unbeknownst to the rest of the family, Clara had witnessed the altercation between Tommy and Arthur that had prompted Tommy to send his sister away. With a bit of time and space set between Clara and what she's seen (and with Ada's prompting) Clara starts to confide in her sister only to realize that perhaps it's better to keep some things to herself. Better for the rest of them, at least.

Request (anon): Parental prompt number 34, please. I will leave it open to you but maybe something with Ada/Polly and Clara :)

Characters: Ada Shelby (Thorne) and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: Angst, Lots of talk about Arthur and Tommy, Mental Health Issues, Family Dynamics.

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there. Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

Ada chewed on her lip as she studied her younger sister across the room. Clara was quite clearly lost in thought, and painfully so. Not a bit of her appeared to be present to either space or time.

“Darling, is something wrong?” Ada asked, her curiosity and concern finally winning out after a quarter hour of near-constant observation.

It was a bit of a rhetorical question seeing as Ada already knew that something was wrong. She even had a feeling of exactly what it might be—Tommy and Polly had told her that Arthur was having one of his moods.

The weekend visit with Ada and Freddie—something Clara often had to bag after—had been presented to the girl as a lucky coincidence. Tommy had a convenient bit of business to address in London on Saturday morning and Ada had already been planning a day trip to Birmingham the following Tuesday so Karl could see his cousins.

Clara hadn't questioned the particulars when Tommy said he would bring her down on Saturday to stay for the weekend. Well, she had not questioned it aloud, anyway, but Ada could sense that her sister had been acting different. She had been toying with something in her mind for the whole visit.

She hadn't given Ada and Freddie any trouble, but the truth was she hadn't given them much of anything at all. She'd played with Karl, but Clara hadn't wanted to go out for any walks. She hadn't wanted to play any of the usual card games Freddie indulged her with. In fact, Freddie had barely been able to draw a smile from Clara's lips.

And though Clara had been insistent that she wanted to do some reading, Ada was nearly certain that the page of Clara’s book hadn’t shifted since she sat down. She’d done far more staring out the window and observing the carpets than she had read. Whatever was so interesting at the end of Clara's gaze, Ada couldn’t seem to locate it herself.

Clara wasn’t necessarily disturbing her sister by acting this way. She was quiet and considerate, but the clear distraction had succeeded in distracting Ada from her own work. The pile of overdue correspondence she’d hoped to get through while Karl was upstairs napping and Freddie was out running errands had gone completely untouched.

“You’ve been quiet all day,” Ada said, the words coming out nearly as a complaint.

Clara remained that way—silent, and unresponsive to her sister’s observation.

Ada pushed her chair back from the small table, allowing the feet of her chair to groan as they slid across the floor. Ada flinched as it sounded through the quiet of the flat, but Clara showed no indication of hearing it.

Thankfully, Karl hadn’t seemed to hear it from down the hall, either. He was likely too tired, seeing as he had been playing with Clara all morning and still recovering for the bug he'd caught.

Ada sighed as she smoothed her skirts and tried again. “It’s time for some tea, I think. Shall I fetch the biscuits as well?”

Ada’s words elicited no response from her sister—no proper recognition or acknowledgement that Ada had even spoken—just the idle movement of Clara's finger across the edges of her book—back and forth, back and forth.

Ada’s frustration won out.

“Clara!” Ada hissed.

Clara’s eyes snapped to her sister. She was startled by Ada’s standing so close—just a few steps away with her hands on her hips. Clara could’ve sworn her sister was still sitting at the table sorting her mail.

“Did you hear me?”

Clara tried to remember if she'd heard Ada say anything, but as Ada had suspected, Clara had been lost in thought. Her body was in London, sat in the small room Ada and Freddie had outfitted as a sitting room, but her mind was in Birmingham, vacillating between her memories of the past few days and what she suspected was happening at the present. Clara stared back at Ada with wide, vacant eyes. If her sister had been talking to her, Clara realized she hadn’t heard a thing.

Ada shook her head. “I said it’s time for tea. Would you like biscuits or—?”

“Whatever you think is best,” Clara cut Ada off before she could offer anything else. Clara didn’t care and she couldn’t bear making a decision.

Ordinarily, Ada would have relished in Clara relinquishing control over the dominion of sweets at tea time, but just now Ada was left feeling rather concerned by such a statement coming from her younger sister. They'd bought biscuits and cake specifically because Clara had been sent their way. Even though Tommy had made it out like Clara didn’t know why she was out Birmingham, Ada had had a sneaking suspicion that her sister knew more than she let on. Clara often did.

And it wasn’t like Tommy to forget that about Clara, but Ada supposed he was concerning himself with other things—other siblings. He didn’t have the time or space to be worried about Clara, especially when she wasn’t causing trouble or raising any real concerns herself. Maybe that was another reason why he sent her to Ada, to do the sisterly sifting and soothing via offering sweets and fun and distraction, but Clara wasn’t making it easy to reassure her since she wasn't actually voicing any concerns.

Ada supposed her sister usually didn’t. It was rarely that easy. Clara was a Shelby after all, and surely that meant things couldn’t just be simple. But Ada still held a bit of hope that there was a simple explanation for Clara’s disposition—something she wouldn’t have to drag and scrape out of the girl in the painful way typically required when Clara had something troubling on her mind, clinging to her secrets as if voicing them were to mean certain death.

“Clara, sweetheart,” Ada said, shifting her weight and crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you ill? Perhaps you’ve caught Karl’s sickness?”

The boy had been laid up for the better part of a week. He was on the mend now—he’d certainly been happy and well enough to demand his aunt play with him at every available moment since her arrival, but just a few days ago, he’d been in the throes of a delirious fever, all confusion and fatigue and flushed cheeks. Ada closed the distance between her and Clara, pressing her hand to Clara’s forehead and feeling for a fever. There was no difference between Clara’s skin and Ada’s own.

“I’m fine, Ada.” Clara pushed her sister’s hand away.

“You’re not,” Ada answered. “What is it spinning around that head of yours?”

Clara took a breath, the swell of it lifting her chest and shoulders before she sighed, all of her seeming to deflate as the air left her. She pressed her bookmark between the unread pages before closing the book and setting it aside. Her hand lingered on the cover, almost as if she was regretting putting it away. Clara closed her eyes as she spoke, somehow not seeing Ada's face making it a bit easier to get out.

“Remember how it used to be?” she said. “How Arthur was…before the war? Remember before all the—” Clara stopped herself from describing it. The drink. The drugs. The fighting. There was more. She knew there was more even if she didn't know all of the particulars, and was purposely kept from knowing them. But even for the bits she did know, Clara found that she didn’t want to say the words. She couldn’t. “Well, just back when he used to be happy and…”

Clara stopped herself again. She stopped herself before she revealed too much. Clara could sense she was on the verge of saying something about Arthur that she would never be able to take back, something she wasn't even certain of herself. She just knew that something between her and Arthur had changed. Some part of her opinion and feeling toward him had changed, some nervousness had started creeping up in Clara that she couldn't quite explain, or at least, Clara didn't think she wanted to explain it. She didn’t even think she could explain it without telling on herself.

Explaining why she felt something different would mean explaining what she'd seen and how she'd seen it. It would mean explaining that she'd seen Arthur and Tommy fighting. It would mean explaining why she had been out on the roof in the early hours of the morning. It would mean explaining why she'd kept it to herself all these days.

It wasn't as if she'd never seen her brothers yell and fight, but she'd never seen it quite so intense between Arthur and Tommy. She’d never seen Arthur so uncontrollable and yet so determined to hurt himself and then Tommy. She’d never seen it like that. In the end, Tommy had been able to subdue Arthur, to calm him, but Clara had been scared as she watched, holding her breath as Tommy struggled with Arthur's hands around his throat, all of the struggle a bit hard to see clearly in the hazy light of the back courtyard.

Even though, Clara hadn't technically done anything wrong, she hadn’t told anyone what she’d seen.

That night, she’d stayed quiet and still on the roof, making sure her brother's didn't sense her presence and climbing back through her window only when Tommy had succeeded in calming Arthur and guiding him back towards his own home. Clara had pretended to be asleep by the time Tommy was back and she hadn’t said a word about it since, holding it all on her own. Part of it was Clara was scared by what she’d seen. Part of her was scared of what she figured was happening now. And part of her was scared of the trouble she’d be in if anyone knew she had been out of the house at that time of night, spying on her brothers of all things. She was scared about that growing nervousness she felt towards Arthur, too—questioning what he was capable of and even more so what he wasn’t capable of controlling in himself. That all scared Clara more than anything—the sudden sense of doubt and fear toward someone who she usually thought of with a certain sense of comfort in mind.

Ada sighed as Clara’s words drifted away. She sighed. Ada held a bit of anguish in her heart for the state of things with Arthur, of course, but Ada felt more so for the sister sitting in front of her now.

“ Oh, love.”

Clara had learned so much in such a short amount of time. She was clever and observant, but she was still caught somewhere between knowing and understanding and accepting. Ada felt herself a bit more mature than Clara in that area, an assumption made based on the fact that she was over ten years Clara's senior. It was just the sort of misguided assumption adults tended to make in order to preserve their sense of safety and surety in the world.

Ada didn’t know what else there really was to say. Arthur had been prone to his moods and the drinking and the fighting and the drugs for long before Clara was born. He’d been just as messed up before the war, even back when they were kids, but Clara had been spared much of that knowledge and proof of that for years. She and Finn both had been distanced from it, distracted and shielded from the worst of it by Tommy and Polly and John—and even Ada’s—intervention.

Tommy was still doing it even now. It was why he’d left Clara in London—to shield her and distract her while he got to the business of bringing Arthur back to himself…or away from himself. Ada wasn’t rightly sure which it was.

Ada had been distanced from it, too, by virtue of being in London while Arthur was still in Birmingham and by holding the assumption that the issue wasn't too serious. Tommy would handle it. And she hated that part of herself was happy for someone else to have that responsibility. Ada loved each of her brothers, she truly did. Growing up, Arthur had always made her laugh and smile. He’d been protective without being so intense as Tommy could be. But in other ways, Arthur had been more intense than any of them. Arthur had it in him to be far scarier than any of them because he could be unpredictable. Relationships with Arthur could be volatile. He could be sweet and gentle—that was the Arthur Ada wanted to believe was the true Arthur—but he could be rather difficult, too.

And because of that, Ada was happy to be in London. She was happy to leave the fine managing of Arthur to Tommy. Because that was what it was—managing. Arthur was a grown man, the eldest brother, but he couldn’t always manage himself. Or at least, it didn’t seem he could without reaching for a bottle or a vial. Maybe that piece was the impact of the war—the desperate way that men seemed to need those things in order to get through.

Arthur had always had a touch of trouble, though, and even before the war, he’d been inclined to the bottle.

Clara just hadn’t been privy to it for most of her life. Ada was quite certain that her sister was still only barely privy to it now, but Clara had seen more than Ada knew. She was observant and even if she didn’t quite understand it all, Clara understood enough.

“Whatever Arthur's going through, it'll be alright," Ada said. "Tommy has it handled."

It was a well-worn explanation, something Ada said almost as a reflex, the family myth that they all clung to as if it kept them all living and breathing—as if Tommy’s influence kept them all that way, kept them safe.

Clara wanted to believe it. She wanted to trust that Tommy could right things as he’d done the morning after Arthur drank himself into unconsciousness or the time they bought the Garrison to bring Arthur out of Flanders Blues. Somehow, Tommy had always managed to pull Arthur through.

The entire family seemed so sure that Tommy could and would take care of it all. They waved each concern off with surprising casualness. “Tommy will take care of it,” they always said, but Tommy was only a man. He was only their brother. And that seemed even more true now Clara had seen how Arthur could be. She’d seen him nearly hurt Tommy in their struggle out in the back courtyard.

Clara knew now that Arthur's highs were as bad as the lows. She knew the violence could be quick as a switch. He could turn it either in or out. It was destructive either way.

“Polly said he reminds her of our father sometimes,” Clara offered, setting her fears by someone else’s words. It felt safer that way.

“But our Arthur’s got a softer heart,” she added.

Ada stiffened at the mention of their father. “Polly shouldn’t be saying anything of the sort.”

Clara was used to being shut down that way when it came to the taboo subjects—anything that made the rest of them uncomfortable or nervous. There was always a quick, almost casual reminder that Tommy would take care of it and some sort of admonishment for whoever had dared to speak about something with Clara. Clara understood the script well enough by now. She also knew when she could push.

“Is it true?” she asked.

Polly had closed the conversation when Clara asked what her aunt had meant that Arthur was like their father. She’d been given no more detail and sent away. She’d been told not to worry about it and Clara had the distinct feeling that Polly regretted her words, almost as if her aunt had forgotten who she was talking to when she said it.

Clara pressed again when Ada remained quiet. “Is Arthur like—”

“I don’t know, Clara,” Ada snapped, her words somehow sharp and thoroughly tired at the same time.

Ada didn’t know much about their father and the ways he was, not really. She’d known about Arthur’s edges—the rough and the smooth one. Ada had been with Arthur for her most of life, but Ada didn’t know her father’s edges. She didn’t know her father much at all. He hadn’t been around often and when he had been, there had always been a brother there ensuring she kept a distance, shielding her and getting her out of the way. Ada barely knew her father any more than the twins did and her mind associated her father’s visits more with strategic games of hide and seek, and walks along the Cut with her brothers than anything to do with the actual man.

“Maybe,” Ada offered, “But Arthur’s got us and he…” Ada searched for the words she wanted to be true even if there was something—fear, maybe, or just plain uncertainty—nudging her to suggest otherwise. “Arthur is…he’s…Arthur’s different,” Ada said more firmly as she sought out the memories that were easier, the ones that reminded Ada of all the ways Arthur was different from their father—memories of the times he’d made her laugh, memories of how he was with the kids. “Remember when he…”

Clara nodded, staring just above Ada’s shoulder as her sister spoke, her focus on something out the window rather than whatever her sister was saying. Clara remembered the moment Ada was recalling, but she tuned out most of her sister’s words. Only minutes ago, Clara had been ready to share her fears with her sister. She had wanted Ada’s understanding and comfort, but Clara had an alternative strategy now, something she remembered using before, though it hadn't been as deliberate of a decision those other times.

Clara was only thirteen, but she was already considering the merit of keeping things to herself, of agreeing even when she thought someone wasn’t entirely correct, of keeping her pain close in order to spare her loved ones more hurt. Clara decided right then that she was correct to not confide in her sister, just as she’d been right in keeping her thoughts from Tommy and Polly, too. Somewhere in Clara’s mind, it clicked that her true feelings weren’t something any of them were really interested in. Her questions and concerns weren’t congruent with ideas they all had clung to for so long. The platitudes that soothed them, didn't soothe Clara, but she sensed that no good would come from pointing that out. It was easier to simply follow their lead. It was easier to bury her doubts.

As Ada continued reminiscing, some part of Clara's relationship with her sister closed off a bit. She smiled and nodded along with her sister’s soft recollections, but Clara wasn't fully present to Ada. She couldn't be. She was boxing away her concerns, trying to seal the stubborn package away by shrouding it with the thoughts the others seemed to find comforting—Tommy will fix it.

She forced herself to ignore the voice that seemed to ask 'but who will fix Tommy?'

“Ada?” Clara asked, immediately stilling her sister’s meandering words. “Remember what I said before?”

Ada swallowed at her sister’s interruption, the apprehension clear in her features as she tried to determine which part of the conversation they would be revisiting. The tension lingered for mere seconds before Clara confirmed Ada had nothing to fear. Clara wasn’t interested in talking any more about Arthur or their father or what Tommy was capable of fixing.

Clara had simply changed her mind about the biscuits. Ada let out a soft snort as she smiled at Clara. She was more than happy to oblige her sister in revisiting that particular request. Ada was soothed by it even. Clara smiling and wanting biscuits fit a certain script. It helped Ada believe that all she’d said to soothe Clara's woes had worked. It helped her believe it was true.

Arthur was different.

Tommy would fix it.

And through a combination of biscuits and sisterly connection, Clara would be fixed, too.

Ada wasn't right. Nothing had been fixed, but Clara had already decided that her sister needed the comfort of the myth more than Clara needed the comfort of sharing the truth.

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

#peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #ada shelby #ada thorne #ada & clara #shelby!sister #shelby sister #clara shelby #little lady blinder #raise a glass to llb #i hurt my own feelings writing this one

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