#Hey I finally rendered Vulture :)

[achillean-knight]

So I have been designing....

[themusingsofafangirl]

Eye Contact (A Majima Goro Imagine)

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back with another piece here. I’m not sure if you like it. I just felt the need to write this piece since I’m so hooked into this Yakuza/RGG fandom (And I’m not even disappointed about it! IT’S ONAST TO BE IN THIS FANDOM). This one-shot does not adhere to any of the Yakuza/RGG canon timeline and obviously, as a work of fanfiction this is just my idea of what I want in my story. 

Prompt: So basically, as the daughter of Masaru Sera, named Miharu, you were with Madam Dojima having tea in the garden when the Mad Dog of Shimano caught your attention… Fandom: Yakuza / Ryu Ga Gotoku Pairing: (Fem) Reader X Majima

Type: One-Shot, SFW.

Word count: 1115

“It’s nice to have you back home Miharu,” said Madam Dojima as she sets her cup of tea on the table.

“Yes, a lot of things have changed while I’ve been gone, I see.” Miharu replies.

     Though deep down, nothing beats the feeling of relief and serenity breathing in the air of one’s own home country after living abroad for 7 years. The mother tongue you spoke that was foreign in the ears of your newfound friends overseas suddenly sounded normal amongst the crowd in the bustling streets of Harajuku the night your former high school friends decided to throw you a ‘Welcome Home’ party. Despite all this, you were also saddened at the fact that the vendor of your favourite Takoyaki stall has passed on and that it is no more. Even the club you used to snuck into as a teenager with your friends to party has closed down – rumoured to have been wrecked by loan-sharks and the owner has never been seen since.

       Bittersweet at all the newfound facts of your birthplace learned over the span of the few days after you’ve landed, your father, Masaru Sera asked you to accompany him to the Tojo headquarters which you just accepted because you really wanted to spend time with your father and learning a thing or two about the trade your family is in. While you would never attend the meetings, you usually stroll around the place and that was when you bumped into Madam Yayoi Dojima, widow of the infamous Sohei Dojima and invited you over to the gardens for a tea session.

      Whenever Madam Dojima was around, she always manages to leave you in awe with her poise and elegance – not to mention how beautifully she dons shimada hairstyle with the kimono. You respected her and she takes a liking towards you as well since you and her son Daigo have been childhood friends. Not much is known of Daigo’s whereabouts, which leaves Madam Dojima completely disheartened. You then diverted the conversation into more light-hearted topics such as your stay abroad.

“You know, there are days when I absolutely crave a warm bowl of homemade Gyudon just like the ones you used to make. While I could make them myself, there’s just missing ingredients that I can’t find there unlike here.” you said.

Madam Dojima smiled at the remark and said, “Well then, why not stop over my home one day and I’ll have it made specially for you. You know, just like those days when Daigo and you were still children.”

    Realising how the topic went back to Daigo, you pinched yourself beneath the table for your stupidity only to get startled by someone’s howling laughter from across the gardens you and Madam Dojima were at. Madam Dojima, startled yet still collected placed a hand over her chest after hearing such howl. There were voices of people not far from where the both of you are.

     You turned to try and locate the owner who made such ruckus in a peaceful place (but you also noted that being a daughter whose father is involve in the Yakuza; the leaders can come in all sorts of whack personalities. The weirdest one for you was Awano. But sadly, he died.)

     “Hmmph,” Madam Dojima said shaking her head and sighed displeasingly.

     “Who was that Madam?” you asked scrutinising your face showing discontent at the sudden disruption of tranquillity.

     “That, my child, is the patriarch to a family whom if the Tojo Clan is without, will not survive against the Omi Alliance. You should know who” She replied coyly.

      You were still trying to see who the man was and why on Earth would he crack a maniacal laughter like that. You only saw the top of head of the little crowd behind the bushes from where the both of you sat but once they came into view as they were about to exit the headquarters’ entrance, you noticed who the family Madam Dojima was talking about.

      Amidst the crowd of scrawny men – whom you assumed was the patriarch’s members, stood the patriarch himself in snakeskin designed jacket and leather pants.

      You only heard about him through your father and the stories he would sometimes share with you regarding the time he nearly died after being shot trying to save a blind lady who was hunted by the entire yakuza organisation like hungry vultures; yet you have never seen the man in person yourself.

Perhaps, today is my lucky day? You thought to yourself about finally getting to see the legendary Shimano no Kyoken in the flesh. Not that you want to ever interact with him, but you would prefer to just know how he looks like.

      The man in the snakeskin jacket stopped his tracks and then turned his gaze towards the gazebo where you both sat – as if he noticed the presence people besides his own men. You were surprised to see that he wore an eyepatch on his left eye. He bowed to the both of you and you saw that Madam Dojima did the same. You returned the formality and the next thing you know, you made eye contact with the Goro Majima himself. Rendered taken aback and nervous a bit, you turned to look elsewhere immediately and then to Madam Dojima again, pretending not to be affected by the accidental occurrence. You sure felt a chill in your bones and a slight shiver down your spine but you know that you will not being seeing him again. And you made sure of that deep down in yourself.

      You continued conversing with Madam Dojima as the Majima Family walked out of the headquarters. Hoping your father will be done with the meeting as well.

 ***

The drive back from the Tojo Headquarters was silent as he stared blankly at the view of the city. While he was proud of what he did today during the meeting, he was burning with curiosity; not that he usually cared. But there was something about the lady that sat beside Yayoi Dojima that makes him wonder.

      “Oi, Nishida,” he says.

      “A-ah, yes, Oyaji?” the driver behind the wheel timidly replied.

      “Say, did ya notice that there’s a woman sitting next to Mrs. Dojima just now?”

      “Y-yes, yes I noticed.” Nishida replied.

      “D’ya know who she is?” Majima asked as he scooted and prodded his head forward.

      “If I’m not wrong myself… she’s the 3rd Chairman’s daughter.”

      “Sera’s daughter huh?” Majima asked again.

      “Yup, Oyaji” Nishida replied.

      “’Aight. Shut yer trap and keep drivin’.” Majima said as he slumpped back against the car seat and continued pondering on that woman he saw in the garden.

****

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. I don’t know if I should just keep this as a one-shot or series xD. Anyways, my questions box is always open so feel free to submit ideas and questions~ Stay safe and stay hydrated friends!

[elderbwrry]

Even if he doesn’t say so - Chapter 4/?

Kylo/Hux/Poe Witcher AU

Chapter summary: Poe gets into a barfight - minor warnings for blood. (word count 2141)

Chapters 1, 2, 3 and on ao3

Kylo and Hux were on their way back to the tavern where Poe would be giving his latest performance...

They had spent all the afternoon consulting with the mayor of this backwater little town as to what services they could possibly render him. He was an odious man who didn't seem to know exactly what he was talking about, and prattled on for hours about werewolf sightings – Kylo was almost certain that the mayor's reports were only rumour – before changing tack to ask Hux a million pointless questions. It had taken so long that it was now almost night. The least he could have done, if all he wanted was to be able to say he'd met a mage and a Witcher, was compensate them for their time. Still, it had been fun to see how politely Hux could insult him.

There was a considerable noise coming from somewhere ahead of them on their path, and, as they rounded the corner, it became clear that the source was the tavern. The place was full to bursting, people crowding in the door and standing on tip toes to see in. The music which should have been flowing out of the place was instead replaced with shouts and jeering. Hux and Kylo figured out what was happening at virtually the same time, quickening their pace.

The place smelt of spilt beer and sweat, and the loud, human noise bit at Kylo's senses with an acidic tang between his eyes and at the back of his neck, making his fists curl. Hux shouldered his way forward, but the crush parted easily for them, creating ripples of, “It's the Witcher!”, “that horrid magician,” “mutant freaks.”

If everything had stopped when they arrived, the solid blow of flesh hitting flesh kickstarted it all again, sending forth another round of jeers as everyone turned back to the commotion at the centre of the room. The last layer of people peeled back, and the cause of it all was revealed.

Poe, his lute and doublet discarded somewhere, was squaring up, fists first, to another man who was both younger and larger than himself. The sleeves of Poe's shirt were rolled up to expose his forearms, the collar of that same shirt flapping open lower than usual, his knuckles of a shade suggesting that a number of blows had already been dealt. His hair was in disarray, sweat sheening his skin, and there was a bright red split freshly on his lip. It was... handsome. It made Kylo angry.

Growling, he took an abortive step towards Poe's adversary, only to be blocked by a surprisingly firm hand on his sternum. Hux.

“What is the meaning of this?” the mage asked the room icily.

“They're voicing their unwanted opinions,” Poe told them, and it was with such hostility that Kylo would scarcely believe it could come from him, if he didn't know that Poe had a righteous streak a mile wide.

“We don't take kindly to things like you coming to these parts,” someone said.

“Witchers and their murdering.”

“Mages and their sin.”

“We've heard the stories!” another added, and noises of assent scattered around the room.

Kylo had been in situations like this before. He'd been known to act badly in them. Rashly. Angrily. He cast his gaze around, and people seemed to shrink back from it. He could only imagine how he looked, pale skin, red scar, irises a sick, blank yellow, like a vulture. Finally, he found himself facing the man Poe had been fighting.

“Inhuman thing,” the man looked Kylo up and down with disgust and spat at his feet.

Kylo could have had the man in a choke-hold in a matter of seconds, but a determined blur shot forward, ducking under the fists the man's slackening stance had let weaken. Poe punched the man hard in the stomach, causing him to double over enough that Poe could then bring a knee up into his nose, letting loose a fountain of blood. The man yelled in pain, grabbing a hold of Poe's shoulder. Kylo had never intervened faster in his life, hitting away the man's arm and standing in his way.

“You need your pet monsters to save you, huh?” the man taunted even though he was clearly scared, or at least wary, his eyes flitting between Poe and his reinforcements, his speech clodded up with his nosebleed.

“Watch your damn words!” Poe shot back. “My friends are better men than you'll ever be.”

“Pussy.”

Kylo had to stop Poe's lurching attempt at an attack.

“Everyone out!” Hux ordered, his voice almost impossibly loud. People began to slink out of the door, but slowly enough that Kylo decided to take matters into his own hands and bundle Poe off in the direction of the stairs. He went with a few firm nudges, snatching his lute and doublet up from where they were stashed by the bar as he went. His tendons stood out where his grip on them was so tight.

“Go to the room,” Kylo hissed at him, lingering on the stairwell in case Hux needed backup.

It was quickly revealed to be a pointless consideration.

Hux already had backed Poe's assailant up against a wooden wall, the point of a dagger to his throat, his other hand glowing at his side. Kylo was almost certain that was the initial stages of a nasty hex, more than was required to intimidate some bigoted peasant.

“He started it-” the man was saying, and Hux was shaking his head with a sneer.

“That could not matter to me less. If I hear a single word from you I don't ask for, you will regret it. Do you know you laid hands on a lord?”

The man's throat bobbed. Of course he hadn't known Poe was nobility.

“In his kingdom,” Hux continued, turning the dagger so the edge was on the man's clavicle, “he is known as a good man. A righteous man. You angered- no, you infuriated a good man. Riled him up enough to do this.” Hux's tone changed, getting impossibly sharper. “I am not like him. I could raze this pathetic spit of matchsticks, if I wanted to. And you,” he dug the dagger in a little, skirting the man's jugular, “would be the one to blame, for harming someone I hold precious.” He let the threat sit for a moment before stepping back, the glow by his hand dissipating. “In fact, you had better check your house isn't already up in flames.”

The man made to scramble for the door.

“And next time,” the man paused, the hate in his eyes now significantly dwarfed by his fear as Hux spoke, “I suggest you remember that a mage's wrath is far worse than our sin.”

Kylo got up to the room before Hux could catch him watching on the stairwell.

Poe was pacing restlessly. When Kylo entered, he stopped, tapping his foot. “You should have let me beat the shit out of him.”

“You should have let me beat the shit out of him,” Kylo replied, his voice curling into a growl. To hear the way the townspeople spoke about himself wasn't unusual – he'd lashed out before, and it was one of the reasons he stayed out of towns as much as possible – but it was the first time he'd heard someone speak about Hux that way, and it was the first time Poe had come to blows that Kylo wasn't there to stop before he'd sustained damage. Crossing the room and lifting a hand to carefully tilt Poe's head to the side, examining the bruising on his jaw and temple, Kylo asked, “Did he hurt you?”

“Just bruises,” Poe replied, his teeth gritted more, Kylo suspected, from residual fury than from pain. No, that would hit later when the adrenaline dissipated. “Those things they were saying about you – fucking rude. And untrue.”

Kylo hummed some assent. “You both should be treated like royalty,” he muttered, thinking it only true; Poe wasroyalty of a self evident sort of virtue, and Hux was both powerful enough and well respected enough to demand that sort of praise.

Poe laid his fingers on Kylo's wrist. “And the things about you,” he insisted, his brow furrowing in a way that said he was concerned in a new direction. “You don't believe them, do you?”

The disbelief in Poe's voice made Kylo want to deny it. Luckily, Hux joining them in the room saved him from stumbling his way some verbal deflection.

“Did he hurt you?” Hux asked immediately.

“Just bruises,” Poe repeated as the mage approached, before protesting with a weak “Hey!” as his shirt was unceremoniously lifted by Hux to inspect him for more bruises, wincing as his surprised twist to the side made something twinge.

“What if he'd had the presence of mind to pull a knife?” Hux reprimanded him, noting with disapproving exactitude the red patches by Poe's ribs.

“Well he didn't, so it's fine.”

“That is not-” Hux cut himself off with an irritated sigh, heading to where Kylo's pack was by the table and picking through it without asking. “In the future, please remind yourself of your mortality before throwing yourself into something so foolish as a tavern brawl.”

“You sound like Leia.”

“I desperately hope not,” Hux replied drily, and, having found the vial he was looking for, returned to stand before Poe, looking over his bruises again. He popped open the vial – Kylo recognised it as one of his own healing potions, too strong for Poe just to drink – upturning it with his finger over the top, before dabbing the liquid onto the bruises.

Poe hissed at the contact. “Look, you can't expect me to just stand there while people insult you!”

“That is exactly what I expect-”

“Don't ask me to, Hux. I won't.” Poe's dark eyes flicked up to Kylo again, anguish creeping in to the set of his features. “Not when Kylo believes those things.”

Hux froze in what he was doing and straightened up, turning his own piercing eyes onto Kylo. “You do?” Voice as fine as wine, Kylo could detect in his tone notes of disapproval, mild shock, and, surprisingly, genuine pity.

Kylo had been standing there quietly until now, trying not to do anything to bring Poe back to that subject. “Well I...” he fumbled, casting around as if for an answer, pressure mounting as he could feel their attention trained on him, “I'm... it doesn't...” His eyes began to sting and – fuck that – he didn't. He didn't need to be pitied, by Hux, by Poe, by anyone else, no matter who they were to him. He knew what he was, and, though it made his blood boil to hear commoners who hadn't known half the fear and pain he had throw words around like they did, it only hurt so much because he worried they were right.

Poe was reaching out for his wrist again, and the contact made Kylo snatch his arm away and stalk over to the window with a snarled, “Just leave it.” He gripped the window sill and the wood of it creaked with the strain.

Three open-palmed bangs on the door, and the landlord hollered through to them, “I want you out! Out, you hear?”

A few more bangs had Kylo whirling round and snapping, “Fine, now fuck off!” Footsteps hesitatingly retreated, the landlord no doubt wondering whether they actually would go, but there was no way they would stay; there was an even chance Kylo would hit the next person who bothered them, and an only slightly less likely one of Poe doing the same.

“I'll fetch my things,” Hux said. They'd taken two rooms, and, as usual, Kylo and Poe were sharing while Hux got his own. “We should head north a mile or so,” he continued to lay out the reasoning for a sheltered spot he'd noticed, tending to the last of Poe's wounds.

He crooked a finger at Poe, who leaned forward a little. Hux dropped a little of the healing potion onto his thumb, and placed the pad of it tenderly onto the split on Poe's lip. It was just a moment, but though Hux was all business, Kylo noticed Poe's shoulders drop and his eyes flit to Hux's lips momentarily. When Hux removed his thumb the merest of seconds later and turned his attention to recapping the vial, Poe's tongue laved over the spot, which had already faded from red to pink under Hux's care.

The scene made Kylo want – he wanted to touch them, to patch the two of them up when they needed it, to look after them. He gripped the windowsill tighter. Next time, he'd be the one defending them.

[ot5ismyhome]

Bloodbound Chapter 21- Vulture

After Steve left, a car stopped in front of Rogers Innovative. Adrian Toomes got out of the car and walked into the building. The security guard stopped him at the entrance. Adrian tried to push past him but the guard resisted.

“Move or you will regret” he said. “Davis” he added looking at name batch on his shirt. His fangs descended and he growled at the guard to threaten him.

Davis shook his head dramatically as he bared his own fangs and smirked at Adrian. The two vampires took off fighting. Toomes delivered punches after punches but Davis was quick in deflecting it. He punched Toomes in his stomach which he retorted by kicking the Davis in his shins. When he went down, Toomes stomped his feet into his knees cracking the bone. Davis let out a howl in pain. Adrian continued towards the elevator. He got in and pressed the button for Steve’s floor.

Davis was lying on the floor in pain. He got his radio out and spoke into it. “Piper are you there?”

“Yes, you big dumb baby.”

“There is an intruder. Get the kids to safety”

Piper and Pietro had just entered Steve’s office. Piper alerted the others and led them to the private elevator in the office. They used it to reach the blood storage room behind the stairs which only few knew about. They ran across the lobby towards the exit. Piper saw Davis on the floor clutching his knee. She helped him stand up by taking most of his weight. She heard Wanda calling her name and looked up. She noticed that they were surrounded by five thugs from Rumlow’s clan.

“To the parking lot. NOW” Coulson shouted as the group moved away from the main entrance towards elevator. Toomes stepped out of the elevator and blocked their path.

“That leaves us no other option than to stand and fight” said Coulson as he took a gun from his shoulder holster and shot the five vampires in their head. “This will keep them down. They can’t heal unless the bullets are taken out.”

“I want one of that when we get back to base” Pietro commented.

Toomes ran towards them and Coulson fired his last bullet. It missed Toomes by just an inch and shattered the statue behind him. Before they reached the elevator, Adrian caught Pietro. He took a stake out of his coat and pressed the tip to Pietro’s chest. The others stood still calculating their move.

“Don’t think of anything. One wrong move the kid will turn to ash” he threatened.

“Okay… Okay we will do as you say” offered Wanda.

“Don’t worry. I will be fine” Pietro consoled her.

“Stop talking” Toomes strangled him with his free hand. He turned to the others, “Don’t try to stop me.”

The others didn’t move a muscle as Toomes took Pietro as hostage and walked out. He rendered Pietro unconscious with a hit to his head; pushed him into the trunk of his car and drove away.

Piper looked at the vampires lying on the floor. “Let’s move before more of Rumlow’s men come here.” She rubbed Wanda’s shoulder, “We will find Pietro.” Wanda nodded.

Davis was still whining in pain. Piper collected blood packets from the freezer and distributed it to Davis and Howard. Davis eagerly plunged his teeth into the packet and drank large gulps. He could feel him bones repairing. He will gain his strength back in no time.

“I don’t need it. You guys are hurt, you should have it.” declined Howard.

“Have it. There is enough for everyone and we need everyone to their full strength.”

Howard accepted the blood bag. While the three vampires were feeding, Wanda walked to the opposite side of the lobby and stood staring at the paintings on the wall. Coulson walked a bit further way from the group and called Steve. The call went directly to voicemail. He tried calling Tony but he was out of reach. Coulson sighed and looked at the others.

“Mr. Rogers is not picking the phone. Stark is out of reach” he announced.

“There is only one other person who could help us, if he wants to” Wanda said. The others looked at her expectantly. Wanda uttered two words, “Bucky Barnes.”

Davis face lit up in recognition. He pointed to the granite, “This dead guy.”

“Apparently he isn’t dead anymore. Things have changed in vampire town.”

“Why does he know more about us than us?” Davis looked puzzled.

“Job requirements” Coulson smiled. “I’m going to do one thing my mentor asked me not to” he added with a wince.

Coulson drove them to the outskirts of the city passing the inhabited houses. Even though there were no residents the neighbourhood looked to be a decent place.

“Where are we going?” questioned Howard looking out of the window. He had one hand around Wanda and the other was fidgeting the hem of his shirt.

“I think this is the place” replied Coulson nonchalantly.

Howard and Davis rolled their eyes but decided to keep shut. Finally, Coulson pulled out of a house and got out. The others followed him to the doorstep. Coulson rang the bell. A bald man, wearing an eye patch answered the door. Seeing Coulson, he sighed.

“You had one job” he spat. “What was it?”

“To never contact you again”

“Hey, you remember that” Fury replied with sarcasm dripping with every word. “You not only disobeyed a direct order, you bought five people with you”

“What? There is only-”

Without further explanation, Fury pulled a gun from under his coat and pointed directly at the tree opposite to the house.

“There is no escaping me. Come out” he barked.

*****

Sam had arrived at the terrace opposite to the Rogers Innovative to his spy post. He had expected to meet Bucky who had gone to spy on Steve and hadn’t reported back. When Sam tried to reach him, he was out of range. But seeing no struggle or anything out of ordinary at the post he resumed his duty. He hadn’t given much thought when Adrian Toomes went into the building. Sam knew he had to intervene when he heard the bullet sound followed by the blonde kid being dragged out. He made an attempt to follow Toomes’ car but missed it before he could get down from the roof. Few minutes later, he saw another car racing out of the building. He had decided to follow it.

On his way, Sam conveyed the situation to his friends. He followed the car to the outskirts of the city. Lincoln was the first to respond. He had managed to get hold of Bucky and they went to the Rogers Innovative to inspect the scene.

Everything was going fine, until Sam had got caught. He had thought of running away but the enhanced bullet that Lincoln found inside the skull of Rumlow’s men made him think twice. Sam lifted his hand above his head and walked out from behind the tree.

“Who is this dude?” Davis whispered to Howard who shrugged being as lost as Davis was.

Fury spoke, "Are you going to tell me what happened or are we waiting for four bad guys with guns?"

"It's more like bad guys with fangs." Coulson filled in on Fury what happened in the Rogers Innovative after Steve had left.

“This guy will take you to him” Fury said tilting his head towards Sam.

“At least lower the gun now, man” Sam winced dramatically.

“Now, everyone get out of my property” he said. He bent down and picked up the cat that was brushing against his legs. “Come on goose, we gotta pack now.” The cat meowed back in response. “Yeah, yeah I know. Just now we unpacked. Tell this to that knucklehead” with those words the man disappeared into his house.

“Yeah” Coulson shrugged. “That’s what he calls me when he gets over fond of me” he said his friends.

“It’s time to pay White Wolf a visit” Coulson said looking expectantly at Sam. Sam wouldn’t have wanted to associate himself with other’s problems but he wasn’t able to turn them down. The group drove to outer part of the city and stopped in an abandoned amusement park. Sam parked his bike and walked to the small security building; the others followed. He knocked the door.

A man opened the speakeasy grate, seeing Sam he opened the door. Normally, he wouldn’t have opened if anyone was accompanied by outsiders. But Sam is Barnes’ right-hand man. It’s better to let Barnes deal with it he thought.

Bucky arrived as soon as he heard about the group, waiting to see him. Seeing their state, he took them into his den.

He turned to Sam, “What’s going on? Why are they here?”

Coulson filled him on what happened after Steve left for hearing. Bucky pondered over his thoughts for quite some time but finally agreed to help.

…..

The van rolled into the factory which was located outside the city. Rumlow’s men dragged them out of the van and took them to the execution room. As they were pushed inside, they noticed that someone was already there. A chair was placed in the centre and a woman was tied to it.

“Natasha” Steve shouted seeing his friend. She lifted her head slowly and look at him. Her eyes looked tired and shallow and it was clear she hadn’t fed for long. A fresh cut was on her temple and blood ran down the side of her face dripping from it into her lap. There was a deep cut on her lips which was swollen. A gash ran across her right shoulder till her elbow. Her knuckles were soaked in blood and small bruised littered her arm. Steve mentally scolded himself for not organising a search party for her. She had been here for a day and he felt like it was his fault.

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Sonny Carisi / Fallen

Prompt: Sonny Carisi/Reader story about him falling for a single parent?

For the anon who requested this! I loved writing this story. Sonny is precious, especially with kids. I hope you all enjoy! 

Sorry not sorry, reusing this gif because its literally the most adorable thing ever. 

To say Dominick Carisi Jr. loved kids was a clear understatement. Whether it was babysitting the younger kids at a family party, or assisting a young mother struggling with her bags and a crying baby, or even when he was on the job, and there was a kid involved, Sonny was the first out the door. However, he had a secret. He was always afraid of when the time would come to actually have one of his own. He honestly didn’t know if he would make a good father, he’s been called abrasive, brash, and once he was even told he was incapable of being empathetic. And most of those times weren’t to his face. He wasn’t sure if his kid would even like him. And then there was his job…

He saw the dredges of humanity that walked in and out of his station each day, capable of the most heinous and unspeakable acts. And the sheer amount of children that walked with them were too many to bear. Hell, even one was one too many for Sonny. How would he protect his child from that world? Not bring it home with him? Not let it get to him? With the long hours and unpredictability…Sonny was never sure if he would make it as a father, which was why he was content dating. That was a far off decision he didn’t have to make at the moment. He only needed to worry about work.

“Carisi!” Rollins snapped her fingers in front of his face, and he snapped to attention as she grabbed her coat, giving him a weird look, “We gotta go,” 

A case, as expected. There was never a slow day at SVU. “Where?” Sonny scrambled to keep up, grabbing his jacket, and following after her. She grimly looked to him as he walked into the elevator beside her. 

“An elementary school,” 

Amanda filled Sonny in on the way: an elementary school student had accused their principal of sexual assault during a school assembly, in front of parents, teachers, and other students. It was less accused than more of a refusal to come anywhere near the principal during the assembly when it was time for her to receive an award. When they arrived it was about as organized as anyone would expect it to be: half-baked chaos. While officers tried to get anxious parents to move back as they counted kids, others tried to calm the raging public behind the yellow tape.  Not to mention the media circus that was happening a foot away. “Vultures,” One officer at the scene remarked to Sonny, and he only shook his head. As he glanced at them clamoring to get a good shot of the children and suspect, he couldn’t say he disagreed. 

They were escorted inside the school, lead to the teacher of the student in question. She was in the bathroom, trying to speak to the girl, Samantha, who had locked herself inside the stall. Sonny could hear her audible sobs even outside the bathroom. After the interview, even after he left for the day, he could still hear her sobs, gasping, painful, and heart wrenching. She was broken, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to fix it. He could only lock up the bastard who had done, but it didn’t erase the deeds he had done before. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he jolted up, head snapping up to spot your concerned face. “Class is over,” You explained, gesturing to the empty seats and empty podium where the professor had once stood. He scrambled to pack up his books, as you waited by the door for him. “After you,” You followed behind his lanky figure, falling in step beside him, and he noticed as you did, you stared at him. 

He forced a playful grin, “Is somethin’ on my face?” You narrowed your eyes. 

“What’s wrong, Sonny?” He opened his mouth, but you talked right over him. “Don’t deny it, I know Dominick Carisi Jr.’s smile, and that’s not it,” You bumped his shoulder playfully. As you used his full name, he felt the urge to grab your hand, engulfing it in his own, but he resisted the urge, glossing over it. 

He sighed, turning to your question, pushing open the door. “It was a difficult case today,” Your face scrunched up in worry, as it often did whenever he spoke about his job. Carisi noticed that you often bit your lip when he shared some details, he imagined if you ever took a job at SVU, you would eventually tear a hole through your lip. “I just want to get my mind off of it,” He shook his head, almost wishing he could shake his thoughts out of his head, but no such luck. “What are your plans for tonight? Do you wanna go get a drink?” 

You hesitated in answering, “I can’t, not tonight, but I can tomorrow,” You counter-offered, smiling. He couldn’t help but beam back. 

“Are you buying?” He raised an eyebrow, and you crossed your arms. 

“Maybe, if I can get a nightcap,” You winked, as he followed you down the subway, but a nagging thought remained: why couldn’t you do tonight? 

“Sonny, the answer is not A, it’s B,” You held up the Bar practice book to his face, only millimeters away. You both were curled up on his couch, side by side, your legs brushing against his, as the two of you worked from the same book. 

“Do I need to hold it closer?” He squinted at the book for a half-second, before pushing it away with a sigh. 

“I need a break,” He turned to you, gaze intense as the two you locked eyes for a moment. He felt himself move closer, and you mirrored this movement, the two of you an inch apart. He felt your breath hitch, but when your gaze went elsewhere, his eyes followed yours. It was 11 PM. 

“You’re going to get a long one, I have to get home,” You shut the book, packing up your stuff. He frowned, eyes carefully watching you as you packed up your things. 

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?” You looked up, shrugging. 

“Of course, is something wrong?” You pursed your lips, and Sonny thought about how many times he wanted to just tell you how he felt, hold you in his arms and lean in… but he needed to know something first. 

“Are you seeing someone?” He blurted out the words in his usual blunt and abrasive fashion, and half-expected you to brush his question off entirely with an annoyed “Carisi” as his squad did at times. 

You froze, looking up at him, “No, but why do you ask?” He approached you at that moment, throwing away any hint of doubt to the wind, instead, standing close to you, his hands cautiously reaching for your own. As your fingers intertwined, he gently pulled you close,  and he felt you move into his touch, and that was the confirmation he needed. He moved closer, his lips only a fraction of an inch from yours, when: 

“I have a son,” You blurted out. Sonny stopped, brow burrowed in confusion, as he stepped back once, as if to take in what you said. You didn’t let him speak as you continued, taking advantage of the silence. “His name is Sebastian, he’s five years old, I had him with my ex-boyfriend five years ago after we broke up. He’s still in contact, and has Sebastian on Tuesday and Thursday, and every other weekend. He also helps out more now that I’m taking classes and studying for the Bar, but we’re just friends,” Sonny processed this information, somehow rendered speechless. A million thoughts ran through his head, connecting the dots. It explained why you were busy on certain days and not on others, and why you had to be home by 11 PM so often. A son… “If you don’t want to be with me, I completely understand. A kid is a huge responsibility, and I don’t want to bring someone into my life who isn’t okay with him, because he is my life.” You looked so afraid, wringing your hands and biting your lip with twice as much force. 

“Hey, hey,” He put his hands on your shoulders, and you shivered from his touch. “I don’t care if you have a son, I’m just glad you finally told me. I was thinking that I was falling for a married woman,” He chuckled, shaking his head, relief flooding him. 

“You’re falling for me?” You repeated, and he didn’t hesitate this time, when he moved in, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pressing a kiss to your lips. Your arms reached up, wrapping carefully around his neck, pulling him closer. 

He broke the kiss for a moment, whispering a word against your lips: “Fallen,” 

“Be careful!” You called after your two boys (well one small boy and one extremely tall man) as they skated around the ice rink. Sonny held tightly to Sebastian’s tiny hands, showing him how to skate. It was Sonny’s idea to take him skating, after seeing a flyer for a toddler’s ice skating class. Knowing completely about skating while knowing 100% that you would fall about a million times made you hesitant to go, but Sonny insisted, and you were glad. Sebastian was laughing, and playing, and having a grand old time with Sonny. 

And that’s when Sebastian fell flat on his face.

You gasped, your heart flew out of your chest, as you jumped to your feet. You scanned the ice for any sign of blood, but he was already laughing again…because of Sonny. He had checked for any injury, but then placed the tyke on his shoulders and began skating around with him. You sat back down, unable to hide the smile on your face. 

After you tucked in one completely exhausted Sebastian, you left the room quietly, shutting the door behind you to find Sonny sitting on the couch waiting for you. He put his arm on the top of the couch, beckoning you over. You slid into place, his arm falling into place on your shoulders, as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Asleep?” 

“Out like a light,” You smiled, staring at him. “After all the fun he had with you, he won’t want you to leave,” After Sonny and you dated for about two months, you finally introduced him to your son. You were scared to put it simply. Things were going well with Sonny, you didn’t want to lose him. He loved kids, but the question was would he love yours? But your worries were quieted within a minute, as Sonny immediately clicked with Sebastian. In five minutes’ flat, the pair were running around the apartment, wreaking pure havoc. The two have been inseparable, especially today. He hadn’t let go of Sonny’s hand once. 

“Maybe I won’t,” He pressed a kiss to your lips, and you tilted your head, curious. “What if I moved in?” He saw your face change, and he brushed the idea off. “It was just an idea, if it’s too soon-”

“I want you to,” You told him, and a grin grew to the very corners of his eyes, “But, I still have to talk to Drew about it. Sebastian’s his son too, but it shouldn’t be a problem since the two of you are friendly,” Though the two were standoffish at first, they had grown to like each other over time. “But are you sure you want to move into this five year old house of horrors where it’s Go Diego Go! and Power Rangers all the time? Not to mention dealing with me all the time,” Sebastian was easy, he was a little angel, but there was a small part of you that worried Sonny would get sick of you. 

Sonny captured your lips in a kiss, pulling you on top of him, his hands running through your hair. He pulled away for a moment to take you in. “That’s a bonus,” He grinned mischievously, as you beamed back, rolling your eyes, before the same doubt crept back in. “Doll, remember I fell for you first, and I love you more now than I did then, you and Seb. I can’t imagine my life without you two,”  

Your eyes pricked at your eyes, as you leaned back down, “You may have fallen first, but I’ve never stopped.”