random scribbles from a coffee-obsessed person residing in some random corner of the world (holding a cup of coffee) current tv favs: attack on titan (shingeki no kyojin), law & order: svu, empire, the handmaid's tale, safe, the brave i ship & write: rafael barba/olivia benson, levi ackerman/hanji zoe currently reading: haruki murakami, natsuo kirino, richard flanagan, daniel kahneman
OK, not *back* back but fjfhdksjgjdhhdj THAT CAMEO. I had to break my tumblr hiatus to scream about this. My baby (Barba) and my babies (Barson)!!
Seriously how good was that minute?? I'm so glad Barba hasn't gone off the boil and turned up as some evil, no morals defense lawyer (even though I did write him as one) who's also an alcoholic and/or drug addict. He's well-adjusted, still doing lawyer stuff and he looks fucking good. And they kept in touch!! He's still in her life!! The banter and smiles made that obvious. And there's a dinner date! MY SHIP IS STILL ALIVE AND SAILING.
My heart is so full right now. I was so angry about how Barba was written out but this almost makes up for it. Almost.
Oh and let me leave this snippet here. It's from https://www.gq.com/story/the-oral-history-of-law-and-order-svus-most-beloved-and-reviled-adas, a GQ article I found when I was googling news about Barba's return. Mariska is a Barson shipper and always will be. Bless!
And oh oh for my other ship that so often appears on my tumblr? LEVIHAN IS ALIVE TOO, Y'ALL.
Sooo I wrote something again...hahaha. I was writing the next chapter of only a heartbeat away (no, it’s not done yet...) and somehow diverted into writing a Christmas fic in the President/Bodyguard AU verse.
I think it’s kind of funny in the sense that it would have taken place, timeline wise, after the events of the yet-to-be-published chapter of my fic...but I am still hoping this works, in a way! It’s also kinda extremely fluffy :P
Anyway, have at it! :)
Link to fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21870835
Think I haven’t posted in a year almost...but life got away from me - it has been quite a tough year but things are looking calmer, and getting better. I’m permanently back in Melbourne and have made the decision not to take overseas assignments for the next 5 years. I hope all of you have been well! I am sure I missed a lot of fandom happenings.
On that note - I finally wrote the next chapter to the Barson Presidential AU - and it only took me a little over two years. *gets bricked* Basically, someone reviewed it on FF.net and I got all nostalgic rereading my story, and then inspiration just struck...so here it is, Chapter 9 of only a heartbeat away here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095795/chapters/51706972
It’s been...quite a trip writing for Barson again after close to a year (last wrote Barson for that weird Halloween fic - I still don’t know what went wrong with my brain), and even more trippy in picking up story I last wrote something for more than two years ago. But it’s a journey, and it makes me feel like I want to finish telling the story.
I did ramble some more at the end of the chapter, so have at it!
Rules: List 10 songs you’re currently into and tag 10 people to do the same.
1. Martin Garrix feat. Mike Yung - Dreamer
2. Lady Gaga - I’ll Never Love Again
3. m-flo - Piece of Me
4. 你会不会 (Will You or Won’t You) - 梁根荣 feat. 王霏霏 (Gen Neo feat. Fei)
5. Haru Haru - BIG BANG
6. Gut Feeling - Ella Mai feat. H.E.R
7. Cigarettes and Cush - Stormzy feat. Kehlani & Lily Allen
8. Fake Love - BTS
9. Tall Order - Linying
10. Rush - RIRI
My music tastes are soooo random - there’s literally a mix of everything across four languages hahaha (for what’s it worth, I don’t understand Japanese or Korean :P).
Tagging everyone! It’s been pretty cool seeing the fav music of others popping up on my dash.
Wrote a thing for @thebarsondaily‘s Halloween Fic-a-Thon and it is weird as fuck. But..it has been written, so have at it, and don’t kill me too badly for this.
one-shot; turn it all to ash
pairing: rafael barba/olivia benson, past elliot stabler/olivia benson
word count: 2482 words
note: Complete AU and there’s nothing even remotely SVU-ish about this. What can I say, my brain = whacked. Also, I wrote this in between transits, flights and train rides (Melbourne-Kuala Lumpur-Kaohsiung-Taipei-Hong Kong-Melbourne - it was been batshit crazy the last two weeks) so I kinda want to blame that, too. Anyway, have at it.
Link to fic on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16485026
Olivia’s hands were shaking as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to fasten a long, dangling earring. It took her three attempts before she could finally manage it. Placing her hands on her dressing table, she tried to even her breathing.
Hurry, Liv, hurry, she told herself. Time is ticking, time is running out.
She steadied her hand, and began to line her eyes with black eyeliner. Finishing her eye makeup, she then painted her lips a rich ruby red. Holding the final pièce de résistance – an elaborate mask fashioned with feathers, she took a deep breath, and placed the mask onto her face.
She would do anything for Rafael. Anything, and everything.
She stood outside the ritzy nightclub, clenching the front of her coat with one hand, seemingly unable to take that few steps forward. She stared at the heavy doors with eyes that were haunted, haunted with unwanted memories, of the person inside. And of what that was awaiting her, once she stepped through those doors.
But she had made her decision from the moment she retrieved the card and the mask from the hidden compartment in her drawer.
Squaring her shoulders, Olivia pushed the doors opened, and stepped into the club, fleetingly thinking that the lit interior of the establishment seeming even darker than the night beyond the doors.
She walked slowly, keeping her eyes trained ahead, scanning the room, trying to look past all the masks and costumes of the club’s patrons, trying to locate the one person that she had come to see. She caught the eye of a woman in a long red dress and a glittery gold mask, who smiled at her, head tilting suggestively. A shiver went down her spine, as she turned away, trying to calm herself, without much success.
She didn’t know how long she had been circling the room - it could be ten minutes, or it could be an hour – when she felt a hand on her bare arm. Turning around, she saw herself looking into unfamiliar blue eyes, staring at her behind a sinister yet elaborate werewolf mask.
“He’s waiting for you,” he said, nodding towards a heavy oak door, and she felt her heart sped up, skipping beats. Without acknowledging the stranger, she strode towards the door. Steeling herself to face what was about to come, she found herself involuntarily whispering a prayer, a forgotten phrase, and she nearly laughed at the absurdity of it.
She had no right to say any word of prayer.
Raising her hand, she was about to knock, and then she changed her mind. Dropping her hand, she pushed the doors opened, and walked into the room.
“Hello, Liv.”
He stood before her, leaning against his desk, a mocking smile on his lips. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Seeing him again, for the first time in almost seven years, had a certain effect on someone who had loved him before he strayed. He hadn’t changed much. He still looked the way he did, before he had left her. If there was any difference, it was his aura. He radiated a menacing darkness. A spiritual darkness. She knew that she was one of the few, that was not of them, who could sense it. Perhaps it was because she knew him too well. Or maybe it was because she had loved him once.
“Elliot,” Olivia managed to form his name, as he approached her, still smiling. He looked almost human, but they both knew he was no longer one. He raised his hand, and removed the mask from her face, resting the tips of his fingers against her cheek. She immediately flinched, almost as a reflex, and his eyes darkened considerably.
Dropping his hand, he spread out his arms in a mockery of welcoming gesture. “After seven years. Seven years without a word, Olivia. And here you are now.”
A shudder went through her. “You look well,” she said, trying to maintain eye contact. It was harder than she thought it would be, so much harder.
But she would do anything for Rafael.
“I’m very well indeed, Liv. As you can clearly see.” His lips curved again into another smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, didn’t even come close. His eyes used to light up with his smiles.
He knew she was afraid of him, and she knew he hated it. They used to be so close. Even before they became lovers, they were best friends. And then Elliot changed, and that had been the end of everything. His straying onto the other path had been their undoing; she didn’t want what he called The Gift. It wasn’t a gift to her, it was a curse, an eternal curse and damnation. But to him, it was a gift. And she wanted no part of it, so she left him.
For a while, she lived in fear, thinking that he might pursue her. But perhaps some remnant of his love for her had remained, and he had let her go.
Elliot leaned back against his oak desk, still eyeing her. “What can I do for you?” He asked, almost politely.
This was it, this was the moment. “It’s…Rafael,” she said, and then faltered.
His eyes flickered again, a light of hatred shining through. “Rafael Barba,” he said, his voice bitter with resentment. However, his slight smile at his next words almost sickened her. “He’s going to die.”
She blanched at the word ‘die’, desperation and grief tearing through her, causing her next words to come tumbling out. “You can save him.”
Elliot let out a bark of laughter, looking amused as he lighted a cigarette and began smoking. “You want me to save him? Do you even realise what you’re asking of me?”
“I do,” she forced her voice to remain steady. She did realise it, of course. It was all that she had realised from the moment she put on the mask.
“You hated me after I converted. Would it be any different for Rafael if he is one of us?”
“I don’t hate…” she began, and then stopped. Did she hate him? No, she loved him. She never hated him, but she could never understand his reasons for being one of the Damned.
Elliot carried on speaking, smoking as he spoke. “I know what you are thinking, Liv. My gift can save him, and you wanted him to be saved.” He blew a puff of smoke into the air, and looked at her steadily. “But I offered it to you once, and you said no. It’s a non-transferable offer.”
“Elliot…”
He sniffed, lifting his hand to stop her from talking, and stabbed out his cigarette. “I can’t help you. But thanks for dropping by,” he said, his sarcasm evident.
“Please, Elliot.” She hated this, hated that she had to beg him, but there was no other choice, no other path she could take. Everything that could be done has been done. There was nothing else, but this.
Elliot’s expression softened, and for a moment, she saw a semblance of the old Elliot, the one she had loved, the one that had been her best friend. “Liv, you know that there is nothing I can do for him. In order to convert, one has to be willing. Barba hates me. He will never accept help from me.” He walked towards the door, and opened it. “Go to him, Liv,” he said, without a trace of mockery. “He doesn’t have much time left.”
“Rafa…” she said, not moving, holding her head high. “…will accept help from me.”
Elliot’s eyes widened as her words hung between them, in air that crackled with tension and electricity. She was painfully aware of what she was doing. Elliot could have her, she only wanted to save the man she loved.
Because she would do anything for Rafael.
What happened in that dark room was a blur, she would not ever want to remember it. It was something she didn’t want to dwell on, something that she knew that if she did, she would regret for the rest of her days.
She slipped into the hospital unnoticed, the night security simply did not notice her. The lift was empty when she stepped into it, and she felt her mouth curved into a smile when she saw her faded reflection on the mirrored walls. So she still had a reflection for now. That was nice to know.
The nurses ignored the shadow that flickered and streaked down the cold, sterile hospital corridors. She hurried silently to Rafael’s room. His room was cold, the atmosphere ominous and stifling, and it was as quiet as a morgue except for the occasional beep of machines hooked to him.
She stood by his bed, watching his pale but peaceful face. He looked different to her, somewhat. Elliot told her that things would seem different through the eyes of one of the Damned. This was the first time she had truly looked at anything since she left the club.
She leaned closer to the man she loved, hearing his steady breathing. Closing her eyes, she did what Elliot told her to, and she locked her mind with Rafael’s, her heart thudding furiously.
Rafa. Rafa, I love you.
He stirred, and one of the machines bleeped. She concentrated on building the link, willing for his life force to be strong enough. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, he answered.
Liv? Where are you? Where am I?
And so, she told him. She told him of all that happened – she told him why he was lying on that cold bed, what happened when that bus rammed into his Uber. She told him of her desperation at what the doctors said. She told him of her visit to Elliot, to the club, her deal with the devil, the exchange of her soul for immortality. She told him the death of her mortality and the ordeal of being reborn as one of the Damned. And she told him, again and again, how much she loved him.
There was a long silence after she was done, and she feared for his life force, as she held on to the link.
Liv…is this what you want? Is this what you truly want?
Her breath caught in her throat, tears swimming in her eyes as she looked at his pale, pale face. Paler than hers.
Yes. Yes, it is. I cannot lose you, Rafa. I can never, ever lose you.
He paused, and she felt his life force faltering, the link between them weakening.
Come with me, she begged. Come with me. She touched his cheek, and it was cold. As cold as her immortal skin. Time was running out.
He sighed, a resigned sound. So be it. Take me then, Olivia.
Relief swept over her as she heard his words, and she bent over him, fangs bared to his throat. Rafael would be saved. They would have to live a cursed life, but they would be together. They would be together, and as long as she had him, that would be enough.
And then something happened.
She couldn’t do it.
You have to hurry, Liv. I can’t hold on any longer.
She realised that she was no longer the Olivia he knew, not anymore. She would never be that person again.
But she still loved him. She would do anything for Rafael. Anything.
But this.
She backed away, tears spilling over, her breath coming out in ragged sobs. She didn’t know that vampires could cry, she though they were without emotions. But her tears kept coming.
“Rafa,” she whispered. “Rafa, I love you. I love you so much.”
With that, she severed the link between them, and watched as the machines started beeping faster and eventually stopped. She watched, hidden, as nurses ran into the room and started useless procedures of revival and finally covered his beautiful face with a white sheet. As they left the room, she approached Rafael’s cold body, and pulled back the sheet.
He looked peaceful in death. Peace was something that she would never know again. Something in her broke, shattered completely, and she would never, ever be the same again.
“Goodbye,” she whispered, pressing a kiss onto his cold lips. “We will never meet again. Not in this lifetime, not in the next, not in this world.” They were going completely different places. Where Rafael’s soul would go, was no longer a place Olivia could enter.
She turned, and fled the hospital room.
She stood at the ledge of the hospital roof, her gown fluttering in the wind, where she could see almost nothing but dots and speckles that represented cars, and other people. Those who still lived. She wasn’t planning to jump; she doubted that the plunge could kill her.
What happened in that instant she was about to make him what she was? She closed her eyes, trying to calm the surge of thoughts in her head.
In the end, she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t subject the one she loved to this dark world that she was now part of. She could condemn herself, condemn herself to hellfire and eternal damnation, but she could not condemn Rafael. She could not bring herself to save him from Death and in return, gave him a fate that was worse than Death.
In her moment of confusion and desperation, she had allowed herself to think that she could change the future. She thought that Elliot could save Rafael. And there could be a happily ever after them, even if they would never walk in the light again.
There was little cause to go back to her former existence. The elements that spurned the life force of the former Olivia Benson no longer existed. Her salvation, her beloved and her life.
Her condemnation was completed; she was a creature of the night, cursed to roam the nights, endless nights until time stopped. She would live with the knowledge that she could not be saved from the depths of eternal hell.
As she looked up the heavens and stars above, wondering if she still had the right to do so, her last tears spilled out of her eyes. After tonight, there would be no more reason for her to cry, or to feel any sort of emotion. She focused on the stars, and wonder if Rafael’s soul was among them, wondering if he could see her.
She hoped not.
She stood up, and her mask fell from her hand, tumbling down to the street below, and with it, the final vestige of who she was. There would be a new life for her. She was bound to Elliot, her Creator, who would teach her how to live her new life. One of the Damned.
So let’s make a positive post. Please, reblog this post with ONE thing you love about Hanji. It will not change haters’ mind, but at least we will feel better.
Quick SVU rant where I am going to sound completely bitter and salty because I so totally am.
So I just watched the premiere of Season 20...and everything about Peter Stone just irks me to no end.
1. I am bitter that he already has a backstory when he’s only been around for slightly more than half a season. He has family issues, family tragedy, personal issues (sketchy personal life)...all of that is presented, and there is much potential for character development based on this, and he will probably get that character development. Basically he had all of this within like 12 episodes??? With Barba across 5 seasons, what did we get? A asshole best friend, partial, fragmented stories about his childhood/university/family, his grandmother/mother, and some stuff about his past re: his work (Ashtonja)...and??
2. This one really pissed me off to no end although I know I am being completely childish and bratty about this. So we have Olivia going Peter this and Peter that, and offering to be his friend blah blah blah blah...and it took them...4 seasons to have Olivia calling Barba by his first name?? I’m....sdkslgjsdfjsdkl arghhhhhh. And this brings me back to my angst and anger about all the Barson stuff they gave us in the beginning of season 19 only to throw all that unmentionable crap into our face with the way Barba exited. They could’ve done it so differently - for example, as I have always maintained, to have Barba off-screen as Olivia’s partner (since they did all that build up for season 19), and bring Raúl back for intermittent guest roles.
3. I nearly threw something at the TV screen when Stone stood up and did that buttoning coat thing before cross-examining. THAT HAS ALWAYS BEEN BARBA’S THING FFS.
I am STILL SO ANGSTY about Barba and Barba/Benson. Seriously, it seems like I am never getting over this.
On a side note, Peter Stone, despite everything they’re giving him...is still as interesting as watching paint dry.
It’s Saturday night (well, technically Sunday morning) and I am exhausted. I haven’t had dinner with my husband since last Sunday - in fact, the only meals we had together all week was breakfast on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday - and a very quick Friday lunch we managed to cobble our schedules together for.
I just came home - past midnight - and he’s already asleep because of stress of the difficult case he’s been dealing with for the past month.
Worst thing is, tomorrow will be another one of those days, as I have to speak at a conference, and I’ll be gone all day.
This week sucked so bad. One of the worst weeks of the year in terms of work difficulties, stress, dealing with stupid people, no personal time or life, nothing I did was for leisure. Except drinking copious amounts of coffee but as if that was purely for leisure.
I haven’t even caught up with AoT or SVU and to think I was pretty excited for my shows this time last week.
Goes to show that life is really never what you expected it to be.
Drabble written for @thebarsondaily, prompt: church; 300 words.
The first time she walked into the church was two days after he said goodbye, and then seemingly vanished.
Olivia had never really believed in God. The circumstances of her birth, her childhood, and everything else in between made it difficult for her to accept that there exists a higher being that was supposedly fair, loving and compassionate. Her world was too dark and too unjust for her to have that kind of faith.
But Barba, Barba was different. No matter how cynical or jaded he may have sounded at times about religion, Olivia knew his Catholic faith was an integral part of him. He believed.
Olivia had stood in front of the altar, staring at the cross in front of her. She didn’t know whether she had the right to be there, and to ask for anything. But if God truly loves all beings, including sinners and disbelievers, she thought perhaps, just perhaps, she may be heard.
“Please,” she had whispered, closing her eyes. “Heal him. Help him to forgive himself.”
Since then, it had become habitual for her to walk into the church, and prayed for him to find peace in forgiving himself.
She never prayed for him to come back to her. She hoped, she wished, but somehow, she could not find it in herself to put that into prayer. She had no expectations, she did not allow herself to expect anything; because the reason she was in church was for him, and not for herself.
It was on her twenty-third visit to church when she finally heard his voice behind her. She turned around to see him smiling tentatively at her, looking freer than he had been for the last few months. He looked…peaceful.
She returned his smile, and thought to herself, he’s here; he’s okay.
Someday, I’ll get over my angst and argghhh over that episode, however, today is not that day.
titsay
vaporwave
dededos
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
izzy806
stormborns
blakekathryn
