#i think i was the only person that attended the funeral that knew where it was from

[sickuma]

ORPHIC (2) — A Simon Riley fic.

❱ This is the last part of HIRAETH ! I don't want to drag it any longer than this. It's so much fun writing this and exploring more words to add to my vocab! Everyone's been nice (except when they give me their therapy bills) I love you guys srsly, You make writing so much more fun <3

I should have gotten this done HOURS ago, but I had to do stuff and just finished working out T-T but hey, writing block isn't killing me rn.

ꜝ？This fic may contain heavy topics such as death, depression and melt-downs, if any of those are not to your liking. Please do so exit the fic. Angst warning!

➴ SYNOPSIS — Ghost mourns of what's lost; reminiscing of the memories, apologizing, begging for you to hear his desperation for your presence as he sat Infront of your tombstone.

QUERENCIA — (n.) A place from which a one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.

“Relationships in the military,”

He spoke, pausing to stare at your eyes. Searching for hesitance,

“They tend to be tragic.”

“But we’ll be together, no?”

“look , kid, it's not as easy as it sounds—”

“Do you feel the same way?”

You cut him off, not giving him the chance to speak. Catching ‘the’ simon ghost riley off guard, “Yes.” he breathes out.

“Then I don't see the problem, lieutenant, I love you, you love me. That's what barney said.”

He stares at the void, remembering yet again another memory he kept special in his heart. He wondered if you had not pursued him at that exact moment. Would he still feel the raw pain that plagued his heart now? Would it still hurt all the same?

If you hadn't stubbornly shown him how determined and real your love for him was, would he still be in this position, dreading every day that comes knowing the person he needs the most was taken from him.

throwing his gear onto the side. Making his way back to his quarters without giving anyone a second glance,

Ever since you've been gone, the base has been awfully tense. The rest understood his situation, trying their best to be there for him, all while attending to their own duties. The past few weeks had been the hardest, They could tell Ghost had been on edge.

He’d only speak to them if it's necessary, otherwise he’d be kept to himself. As if the past had repeated itself, there appeared a gap between his friends and him. He was mourning, and he plans to keep mourning,

If that means having you on his mind,

Then he’ll mourn forever.

“Ghost?”

Price’s eyes widened at the sight of Ghost, 

It’s the first month since you've passed away and the rest of the team planned to pay you a visit to show respect and also let you know how missed you are, not just by them, but also by Ghost who seemed to have shut his whole world out.

He saw how Ghost shown a tough facade when he would hear him call for her,

At night, when everyone slept, Ghost cried and wept for you to come back. Begging aimlessly for your return,

Begging endlessly to feel your arms around him again.

Price didn't expect him to be joining them. He hadn't been. The team visited your resting place a couple of times before, he’d invite him but he’ll make up reasons not to go. Price figured he still hasn't accepted that's where your body lays,

The ride to their destination felt almost eerie, the tension leading the hour long drive. Nobody dared to speak, not a single word.

Ghost’s mind resides elsewhere, watching the scenery they drove past. Chest heaving up and down as he struggles to fathom that he’d finally visit you, 

No—he was more occupied with thinking about how it’s only been a month.

It felt longer than that. It felt longer than his training days. He felt more exhausted, more agitated, and more angry. He resents every breathing thing he comes across to,

He knew it sounded cruel, but why do they deserve to live and you don't? You have been the kindest, and yet you were taken first. He couldn't understand,

As a soldier he’d lost multiple comrades, having to face funerals—visit the cemetery, and deal with death itself. Though yours felt unreal,

It felt as if his bones were crushed. He knew how pathetic it seemed, clinging onto someone who's never coming back, but he'd rather cling onto the past if it means having to hold you close to his heart forever, where you belonged.

、 

Everyone got out of the car,

Everyone but him.

Price sighed, not planning to pry. If his breath felt shallow just by being here, he could only imagine what Ghost felt at this moment, considering it was his first time to ever be here.

A few minutes passed, and the three sat quietly at first until soap had cracked a dad joke, lifting the atmosphere just a little bit. They spoke as if you were there, sitting with them, price would constantly glace at Ghost, who sat quietly in the car. He wondered what ran through his mind.

“We should give him his own time to talk to [name].” Price groaned as he stretched when he stood up, the two following closely behind him. “He needs this.”

Ghosts' eyes caught them approaching. He felt his stomach sink. He knew he planned to wait until they finished before he took his turn as he expected himself to break down and shed tears. He didn't want them to see that. And yet he still felt his heart beat faster when they came back,

Price threw him a small smile, a smile of empathy.

As if that's his cue, he jumped out of the car. Taking slow strides towards ‘your’ direction. He never thought he could ever despise a cemetery so much in his life,

The only thing he could think of was the way you laid down there, away from his grasp.

No matter how slow he walks, he soon finds himself in front of ‘you’, oh well—a stone that only proved to him that you're gone. “Have you been waiting?”

He couldn't believe it,

He was talking to a mere stone.

But he’ll take what he can get.

“Wake up.” he stared down with an expressionless face, “enough laziness, [name]. Get up from there.”

“You can have all of the shirts you want from me, you can pluck my eyebrows, do it, you can get a puppy. Anything you want just— just wake up.”

His voice betrayed him the more he spoke, 

The longer he looked at the stone, the way he kept reading the credentials written on it, the more it felt real. Every passing second is just another evidence of your disappearance,

“You always call me mean,”

He swallowed,

“Yet you're the one who left first.” his cold gaze softened, the more he looked at the ground. Under the ground where your body laid.

Where the body of his lover slept eternally.

“How do I find you now? Now that I'm stuck here?”

He recollects his promise, the promise to reunite in your next life. It all pierced through him. He’s a soldier, yet he finds himself worrying about the most ridiculous thing. What if you'd reincarnate before he passed?

What if you leave him behind again,

What if this time you find someone else to love?

What will he be then?

“Remember when you'd go on tangents about how fascinating reincarnation and universes are? I believe you now, okay? So— so wait for me.”

He sat down, quietly enjoying the breeze. He couldn't deny the pain of the piercing ache that developed in his chest. It never really went away. He would simply distract himself.

“I find it hard to sleep again, love.”

“The bed feels colder without you in it. Do i sound cheesy? Do not make fun of me. I want to be honest. Maybe doing that would lessen the overbearing hurt in my chest. It’s just—it’s only been a month since youre gone and im already a fucking mess. I mean, look at me,”

He chuckled,

“I look rough, dont i?” he sighed, “would you still find my eyes pretty even when i tire them out by crying?”

He looked away, observing the serenity of the cemetery. He wondered how many souls wandered around, and if yours were one, and if you stood close to him.

“I feel—just terrible. When I woke up, I thought I'd finally lose it, well I did. I caused price trouble, you'd have scolded me. I really did it this time, pushing everyone away as if you'd come back to tell me off. That's not ever happening, and that's what hurts the most.” 

He spoke slowly, yet he felt out of breath.

“It feels suffocating—you know? To live without you.”

“I don't know why I woke up, I wished I didn't. Maybe then I'd be with you.”

“It’s scary, [name], so scary.” he whispered, the rasp of his voice sounding more evident. “I have no certainty if we’ll see each other again; and I need nothing more than to hold—to feel you again. To hear your voice, to take in your scent. If I have to give everything up for that, I will.”

“Anything just to have you back to me.”

He stared at the words engraved on the tomb,

“but if i have to wait decades or centuries—i will—without hesitance, without a blink, i will. For you, I'll keep being patient.”

“That's how worthy you are [name]. So wait for me please, no matter how long it takes for me to find you again, please wait.”

He spoke lowly, but certainly, no matter where you are, he hoped you'd recognize him, hoping you’d recognize his eyes you loved so much,

“Even if it means i'll have to die again and again, i’ll keep searching for you until we’re back home until i can hear your voice call my name again.”

“Wait for me, [name].”

Hoping you’d recognize your Simon.

、 

Somewhere along the memories,

、 

Somewhere along the universe,

、 

Somewhere along life and death,

、 

Somewhere along—

、 

“Simon.”

“Pardon?” he looked at you, puzzled expression written all over his face. “Whatd you just say?”

“My simon.”

We're home.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #ghost angst #ghost x you #ghost riley #ghost call of duty #cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon riley angst #mw2 x reader #ghost imagine #ghost simon riley #cod simon riley #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost fluff #call of duty #call of duty ww2

[lyomeii]

me, you and him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: yandere themes, death, spoilers from the entire manhwa, manipulation, reader is implied to be taller than jiwon, someone drug the reader in the first timeline and much more.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Hello may I request a yandere kang jiwon x reader (romantic) where reader was a childhood friend of jiwon and reader is the one always saved from bullies but she died from a accident( sumin poisoned reader) and when jiwon recairneted she decided to save reader while saving reader she fell in love(read obsessed) with reader! Bonus yandere yoo jihyuk who is obsessed with reader from high school Have a great day!^^

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: first request for marry my husband!!!!! 100% excited when writing it and i did have my fun while finished. hope u guys like it too.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jiwon remembers how her young days were quite full of problems. mother left her and father to another man, dad work twice as hard and soomin, someone who she thought to be a friend, betrayed her and killed her with her husband.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a life as bad like that was definitely one the main reason why she came back to the past, jiwon has to fixed everything and of course, to save the only person that was truly at her side, you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ someone at school who grow up next to her and soomin, yet you only care about her than everyone else. gifting her little presents almost everyday, giving your jacket during rain and cold weather. those sweet moments passed unnoticed by jiwon, how stupid she was to not choose you? why she ended with min hwan instead?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ those sweet moments she spend with you were unique, she introduced you to her work team and you befriend many of them quickly, even her supervisor, jihyuk seems to like you, he smiled seeing you! he never smiled to anyone. yet there was someone who didn’t like that at all.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ soomin hated the fact she never got your attention, you always prefer jiwon over her! and if she and min hwan wanted to become rich with jiwon’s money, then she have to dispose you faster as possible.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ one day, soomin called you over to the office, saying that jiwon wants to drink the coffee from your coffee shop and as expected, you got almost immediately to the office with a few coffee cups in hand. there, soomin put a drug on your drink while you distribute the others for everyone else.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ there was no effect immediately, she isn’t that dumb to make a mistake like that. you began feeling ill after your parents take a visit to met the coworkers of yours, baek eun-ho. they loved the boy so much and were glad to someone like him help you around, all of them looked so proud of you for having a business that none of them saw your pale face immediately.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ as your body fall over the ground, eun-no called the emergency, but it was too late. you died there and everyone you knew attended the funeral of yours. your parents were devastated about your death, they cried the entire day as jiwon hugged them and tried her best to console them.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ she thought to be a tragic event, but during her final moments of living originally, jiwon heard soomin’s whispering how pleasuring was to poisoning you with that drink. “ poor [name]. always had your side and yet, you fail to see how I ended their life with a drop of poison~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when she comes back ten years in the past, jiwon has the plan to end her relationship with min hwan, expose soomin and save you. she can’t do the same mistake again, she needs you at her side and was a fool to not see how precious you are to her.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ as her plan goes on, jiwon hits on you. she takes you out to many places, such malls, bakery shores and art galleries. her hazel eyes enjoy watching you smile when you experience something new, those are moments she wants to keep in heart forever.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the office knows how important you are to jiwon, some think that the two of you are dating and she doesn’t correct them, after all, she broken up with her cheating husband and has someone like you at her side, so everyone see the two of you as a perfect couple, well almost everyone.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ jihyuk is the only one who knows the true. he came back in time too and has knowledge that you died years later by poisoning, he attended you funereal and cries over your death.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you don’t remember him, maybe by the fact he was older and in another class, yet you were know by the entire school. everyone knew you as sunshine back then, someone who was willing to help anytime, a smile on your face and by the many times you share your delicious food with everyone who asked.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the day you gave him a piece of cake was the day his heart beat faster. jihyuk wanted to talk with after it, but seeing you between jiwon and soomin made him being more careful. he knew that both women had feelings for you, however your attention was solely focus on the first one.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when you died, jihyuk hold back his tears during the funeral and kept himself in the cold manner everyone always saw him. he couldn’t believe, how someone like you could die in a cruel way? he hadn’t no proof, but felt that soomin and min hwan had something do with your death.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ when he came back in time, jihyuk saw another chance to make you his and not let you die either. he become quite closer to you, visiting your coffee shop to talk about everything that came in his mind and surprisingly, you remembered him from high school.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “ oh wait! i remember you. you were the boy who loved eating my homemade cakes and sweeties!”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he wanted to disappear that moment, but when you gift him a piece of cake with a smile on the face, jihyuk eat it and his cheek went red. he didn’t manage to hide it, become a little joke of your.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ did he actually mind it? no. but seeing how much your attitude become when joking about the little blush of his cheeks makes his day, not to mention the moments he manages to hold your hand for mere seconds. jihyuk can’t wait to feel your touch again.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ yet he is no fool to know that jiwon is after you too. her eyes become lively whatever you are next to her, he heard the many rumors that you began dating her after the broke up from her former fiancé. when asked why you don’t correct anyone about the rumor, you just brush off, saying that everyone always speaks about it, but know that jiwon is only a friend of yours.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ that’s mean he still has a chance to make him yours. jihyuk isn’t letting her having you, he knows how much important you are to jiwon, however he can’t lose you again. someone or something gave him another chance to fix it and this time, he won’t let you go no matter how, especially with jiwon, he won’t let her have you.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere female #yandere manhwa #manhwa x reader #kang jiwon x reader #yandere kang jiwon #kang jiwon #kang ji won #marry my husband #marry my husband x reader #yandere marry my husband #yoo jihyuk x reader #yandere yoo jihyuk #yoo jihyuk

[faulty-writes]

hi! do you think you could do a iida x f!reader where they’re the daughter of sir nighteye, and when he eventually dies they go after chisaki for revenge but iida talks them out of it, and uses his experience with stain to convince them.

sorry if this is too specific, i just really like ur writing, especially the iida ones!

[ Hello dear anon. Apologies that this took longer than anticipated. I ended up having to split this into two parts. So no worries, the second part will be published as soon as I am able. But I hope you enjoy this. I like the aspect of Sir Nighteye having a daughter and her having to deal with his passing. ]

He took EVERYTHING from you and left only an empty void where your heart once resided. It felt like a violent storm drowned you in a suffocating ocean of sadness after your father, Sir Nighteye, died. But this wasn’t as bad as the suffocating worry that your friends surrounded you with.

Since Toshinori had a personal history with your father, he tried to comfort you after this unfortunate event, but you chose to isolate yourself instead. Despite your father’s passing, you knew he would be disappointed that you distanced yourself from everyone, including the man he idolized.

If you got around to cleaning the countless All Might items, he had accumulated over the years, it would be a nightmare. It was bad enough that you had to attend and deliver a eulogy at his funeral. During your speech, you choked on your words and sobbed in front of everyone until Tenya, your closest friend, politely ended it.

After that, he guided you to a private location where you cried into his chest for what seemed like hours. It’s hard to recall if you thanked him for that, but the whole event was a blur. With time, the tragic feeling of sadness gradually changed into anger as you got used to living without your father.

Wait…no that’s not quite right. Anger wasn’t the right word to describe it. The bloodthirsty need for vengeance was more accurate. Yup. You may ask, against whom? Overhaul, otherwise known as Kai Chisaki, caused your father’s demise.

And in your vengeful mindset, you laid out a plan that would, hopefully, confront him and avenge your father’s death. Once you did, you believed it would honor his memory because it would rewrite how he died in vain.

It was evident that your dark cloud of thought followed you to school the following morning, since your classmates’ raised eyebrows, and looked shocked, or just plain concerned when they saw you or passed you in the hallway.

“Ribbit, I know Y/n is still upset over what happened. But she hasn’t talked to anyone about it since,” Tsuyu said, and Eijirou nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, crossing his arms. “I’m worried about her. She’s giving off an aura scarier than Bakugou right now,” the angry blond growled.

“What the hell did you just say!?” He demanded, rising from his seat before grabbing Eijirou by the front of his uniform. Tsuyu ignored them, while Tenya tried to get their attention. “I insist you refrain from engaging in physical aggravation during class hours!” He snapped, chopping his hand through the air.

“Class hasn’t even started yet, damn four-eyes!” Katsuki snapped in response, making Tenya sigh. He believed that Katsuki was certainly rude, and it was unlikely that he’d ever gain the patience to practice proper social manners.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm his frustration when Tsuyu spoke again. “Maybe you should talk to her Iida,” she suggested. “You’re her closest friend, right?” Her question was followed by a look of curiosity, and he returned that curious expression while clasping his chin, contemplating.

“I suppose that is correct,” he replied before looking your way. You were slumped over at your desk with your arms resting against its surface. “I am afraid that while I have been attempting to provide comfort for Y/n over the weeks since the death of her father, I have been rather unsuccessful.” He hated admitting that.

“I assumed that she required space and time so as to not further aggravate her emotional state,” he explained before taking a deep breath. “But perhaps a direct approach is needed,” he looked at Tsuyu and walked past Katsuki and Eijirou who paused and observed where he was heading.

“He’s going to talk to Y/n?” Eijirou asked, looking at Tsuyu and Katsuki huffed before dropping his hands to his sides. “Just what the hell does four-eyes think he’ll accomplish by doing that?” he questioned, crossing his arms as he continued to watch.

As Tenya approached, he noticed you mumbling to yourself. Your words, however, were indistinguishable. He stood there for a moment, curious if you noticed him. However, you seemed rather oblivious, so he cleared his throat, hoping to catch your attention.

This didn’t work. “Very well,” he stated, “pardon my reach.” He laid his hand on your shoulder and proceeded to shake you. “Hm?!” Your eyes widened, and your muttering stopped. You clenched your jaw, and turned your head, prepared to snap at whoever was disturbing your not murderous and vengeful thoughts about Chisaki.

However, you latched onto your lip when you saw who it was. “Oh,” a small wave of panic washed over you. Had he heard what you were muttering? If that was the case, you needed to play it cool or dumb. However, it wasn’t easy to fool Tenya, especially since his incident with Mei at the Sports Festival.

You glanced away while rubbing your neck. Here goes nothing. “Oh hey, Iida,” you replied, ignoring how your stomach churned and twisted into knots. As a hero student, you hated feeling nervous, although, given the negative emotions you had been experiencing lately, this feeling was more than welcome.

You frowned and focused on Tenya again. It was scary, in a way, to think that he probably knew more about how you felt than anyone else. Yes, you pushed everyone who attempted to comfort you away and although your actions were justified due to the recent tragedy that occurred, Tenya was persistent.

It was a wonder what he’d think if you told him that the tiny voice of reason in your head seemed to vanish whenever your thoughts switched to Chisaki, and hatred engulfed your heart. He narrowed his eyes, gazing at you with concern.

“Are you…well?” He asked. “Well?” You repeated, your eyes glossing over and your gaze turning toward the front of the classroom. “Yes…I am well,” you replied, but your voice lacked emotion, and that alarmed him even more.

He had been rather concerned about your well-being and state of mind after your father’s death. When Tensei was greatly injured, he experienced such emotional turmoil that he almost lost his sense of heroism and logic.

He would hate to see you go down the same path, even though you claimed to be fine. Yet, when you turned to look at him, he noticed something in your eyes, and it made his stomach turn. He swallowed heavily but decided to address it later.

“I see,” he took a step back and pressed a hand against his chest. “Are you…certain you are feeling well?” He questioned, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He did not want to believe that you would lie to him. However, he also knew there was a chance that you didn’t even know how you were feeling now.

Emotions were quite hard to explain at times and traumatic events tended to cause one to feel “numb” and as such, a lack of emotion followed, and made it difficult for one to truly grasp just how they felt. He supposed you were also going through the various stages of grief, which too was understandable.

Your whole life changed overnight, and yet the world continued to turn. Forcing you to abide by its rules when all you desired was a break, a mere moment to recollect yourself. Yet, this did not happen. He knew how frustrating that was.

Perhaps that is why his words were of no use to you now and he was better suited to continue to play the role of support. That was quite efficient in most cases because it allowed the individual the space they so required while at the same time, knowing that there was someone there to reach out to when needed.

“Yes,” you replied. Once again, your voice was barely audible. It was almost as though someone was pulling a string and speaking for you. A single recorded phrase that meant nothing and although he did not like it, he had to accept it. At least for the moment.

He nodded. “Very well, I am certain you already know that I will always be present if you require any assistance or perhaps…someone to lend an ear and discuss the ailments you are experiencing,” he stated, chopping his hand rhythmically through the air.

“Yes,” you replied, staring blankly at the front of the classroom again. He curled his lips and shook his head in uncertainty. Nevertheless, he turned around and walked back to Tsuyu and Eijirou, who were now joined by Shoto and Izuku.

“H-hey Iida,” Izuku greeted cheerfully. “Hello,” he replied, grasping his chin, and tapping it with his finger. Tenya ignored how they exchanged glances and the silence that filled the air was broken when Eijirou snapped, “Well!?” Izuku was startled by his outburst while Shoto raised his eyebrow.

Tenya glanced at him. “What happened with Y/n!? Is she okay?!” He urged, and Shoto turned to Izuku. “Y/n?” he questioned, and Izuku shrugged, uncertain of the conversation taking place. Tsuyu walked over and laid her hand on Eijirou’s back, making him recoil before looking at her from over his shoulder.

“Oh heh, sorry,” he replied. He got emotional and sometimes let it go to his head. “We’re all concerned about Y/n,” she explained, glancing at Izuku and Shoto. “It’s going to be a while before she’s okay again. I know she must miss Sir Nighteye.” All of them did.

“Ribbit, but I’ve noticed something off-putting about Y/n lately too,” something that wasn’t sadness nor anger, but an entirely different emotion she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Hm,” she tapped her lips before looking at Tenya.

“Actually…” she said. Maybe she could describe the emotion she saw in you after all. “The way she’s acting reminds me of Iida,” she commented. “Pardon?” Tenya replied, perhaps the most confused among his friends. “Don’t you remember, Iida?” she asked. “After your brother was injured,” she clarified.  

Izuku frowned. “Y-yeah, I remember that T-Todoroki-kun and I w-went after you,” or rather it was a matter of lucky circumstance that they happened to be in the same area as Tenya at the time. “We…defeated The H-Hero Killer together…” he continued, “and a-after…Iida admitted that…” His hands curled into fists.

He had a hard time remembering the emotional impact of that day. Shoto, noticing his friend’s distressed state, placed a hand on his shoulder. He wasn’t much for physical affection, but since making friends at Yuuei, he learned how to provide comfort.

Izuku turned to him, but Shoto’s eyes shifted to Tenya. “Iida went after Stain like a fool,” he said, never one to sugarcoat anything. Although he seemed unaware of the awkward tension he had created. “You let your anger cloud your judgment…I let it cloud my judgment too,” he admitted.

Thinking back to how he used to be, so angry and closed off to the world. He was truly thankful to his friends for helping him escape his shell. Eijirou’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened as if he had seen the most horrific sight. “Wait…” He paused, making sure he understood everything.

“Are you suggesting that Y/n might…” he shuttered to think about it, but nobody expected someone as rational as Tenya to do what he did either. All eyes turned to him, and quite frankly, he was at a loss for words. “Well, I…” he straightened his posture and pushed his glasses up, looking in your direction perplexed.

“I am not certain…” although given your insistence that you were fine, you may still be in denial about what happened or hiding your true emotions just as he did. “Talking to her hadn’t helped provide you with a clue?” Shoto asked, now making everyone look at him.

Eijirou chuckled and laid his hand on Shoto’s shoulder. This made him tremble in response and look at the redhead as if he insulted his ancestry. “I think you’re being too blunt,” he stated, making Shoto knit his eyebrows. “Blunt?” He repeated but Tsuyu spoke up. “Todoroki-kun makes a good point,” she said.

“Then again, nobody knew what Iida wanted to do until it was too late,” she tapped her chin a few times, letting her eyes linger on you. “Maybe we need to observe her,” she suggested, making Eijirou raise his eyebrow. “Observe her? What do you mean, like keep an eye on her?” she nodded.

“What do you think Iida?” She asked, noticing he was frowning. “I am not certain that is the best strategy as it may invade the barriers of privacy,” he stated, chopping his hand lightly through the air. “However, perhaps that is the only option we have left…” he concluded.

“S-so how can w-we do it?” Izuku peeped up. Eijirou grinned. “Yeah! We have to be stealthy, right?” He asked, turning to Shoto who wore a blank expression as he thought. “I don’t think we need to spy,” he said a minute later. “Just keep an eye on her like Tsuyu suggested,” he noted.

“It doesn’t mean we need to watch her all the time. We just need to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself or wander somewhere alone,” he clarified. “Oh, okay,” Eijirou said. “So, give her space but talk to her when we think she’s doing something suspicious?” In a way, it still seemed dishonest.

“Perhaps that is best,” Tenya said, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder if, like him, there was a chance you’d wander off when you suspected no one was watching you. Regardless, it was his job along with your mutual friends to prevent you from walking down a dark path from which there was no return.

“All right, everyone in your seats,” Shota stated as he walked through the door. “Yes sir!” Tenya immediately said, scrambling to get to his seat just as his friends did. While he normally paid attention in class, he found his gaze drifting to you.

You looked intensely focused on your thoughts instead of the lesson Mr. Aizawa was currently teaching. He might be pleased to know he was right. Within your mind, you devised several plans to confront Chisaki. These were the ideas you scribbled down in your notebook.

You assumed that nobody would look at it especially given your unique situation. Yuuei insisted you have sessions with the lifestyle guidance counselor, Ryo Inui also known as the Hunting Dog Hero: Hound Dog. Usually, these sessions are one hour long on selected days of the week. Today was one of those days.

As to not disturb your afternoon hero training too much, the sessions took place during lunch. Ryo usually kept quiet, to your surprise, during the first 25 minutes of the session to give you time to eat. The remaining time was used to talk about how you were feeling, and how you were dealing with the loss of your father.

But you told him what you told everyone else: that you were fine. Of course, he didn’t buy that. “One day you’ll have to face how you feel!” He growled at you. Oh, if only he knew what you were about to do. “If you can’t handle that, come to us!” You hated it when he gave this speech, even if he had a valid point to make.

“You rely on us heroes to protect you even from yourselves!” You knew he meant well but letting someone else handle your demons just seemed wrong. Although that could be your stubborn and determined attitude speaking. Your father taught you how to be cold and calculated in a sense, and to do nothing short of your best.

Yet maybe that played into your naive plan regarding what you wished to do to Chisaki. Nevertheless, the session ended without you learning or improving. Your rushed footsteps echoed down the hallway as you exited your classroom and headed to Gym Gamma.

You had some regret not taking your hero costume with you to your session with Ryo, but it didn’t matter now. You carried it with one hand while your other was wrapped around the strap of your backpack which hung off your shoulder. As you turned the hallway corner, you stumbled back and fell to the floor with a thud.

The suitcase containing your hero costume flew and bounced on the floor a few times. It then hit the opposite wall near an empty classroom. Your backpack contents spilled out, littering the floor. You sat up, hissing softly.

“Ouch…” you muttered before someone stepped in front of you. “Apologies,” when you looked up, Tenya stared back at you. He was dressed in his hero suit, apart from the helmet that normally concealed his face.

“Hm?” When he realized he had run into you, he leaned onto one knee and glanced at you from head to toe. “Are you injured? Forgive me, I was not anticipating someone coming around the corner at the accelerated speed you were going,” he explained.

“Yeah well…” You glanced away, irritated. “I’m not injured…” you muttered. “Then may I assist you in gathering your things?” He asked, referring to the contents of your backpack. You sighed and slowly sat on your knees.

“Yeah, I guess,” you replied, picking up the first few items within reach. Tenya walked around and picked up one of the textbooks. He handed it to you before grabbing the notebook you were writing in earlier that morning.

After placing the textbook in your backpack, you grabbed said notebook. However, it slipped between your fingers when Tenya handed it to you and landed on the floor again. Your vengeful ideas were scribbled across its pages and were now laid open for the world to see.

You cursed yourself for hesitating because that allowed Tenya to pick up the notebook and curiously look at what you had written down. Your heart pounded and you could only helplessly watch his eyebrows knit together.

“Pardon but-” You jumped to your feet and snatched it from him. He looked shocked by your behavior. “W-what are you even doing here!?” You demanded, clenching the notebook to your chest, and glaring at him. He blinked a few times, and you noticed a suspicious look in his eye.

“I…was merely assisting an injured classmate to Recovery Girl,” he replied. You huffed “Good for you,” in response before frantically picking up the rest of your things. You shoved them into your backpack and grabbed the metal suitcase containing your hero suit.

“Y/n?” Tenya asked, watching the spectacle with serious concern. However, he remained silent as you raced down the hallway. This was despite his urge to exclaim that running in hallways was prohibited. Little did he know your cheeks burned red.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ Out of all the things he could have seen. Well, maybe you could just…make some excuse if he asked about them. Something along the lines of getting your emotions out on paper. Yeah, that sounded fine. Writing was a form of coping, right?

Although you weren’t certain how much of that Tenya would buy, the way he looked at you the rest of the day only indicated that his suspicions were high. You tried to ignore it to the best of your ability and avoided him when you could.

You knew that might come back to bite you, but you didn’t care because there were more important things to do. Like conducting research regarding Chisaki’s whereabouts. Luckily, it was easy to fool Principal Nezu and the rest of your teachers.

Simply, you told them that you needed time for yourself and felt overwhelmed by your emotions. You couldn’t be disturbed while doing research. Although you felt some remorse for using your father’s death as an excuse to do your vengeful research, it would be worth it.

They granted you a week off without consequence. The only condition was that you had to stay within Yuuei student housing grounds and continue your regularly scheduled sessions with Hound Dog. A small price to pay, not that you were going anywhere, not yet at least.

Although the student dorm was a bit eerie during the day because of the dead silence with the occasional creaks and cracks of the building settling, you tried not to let this disturb you as you started your week-long research. Of course, your friends were concerned when they noticed you were absent from class.

In addition, you rarely left your room during the evening. However, none were more concerned than Tenya. Frankly, he couldn’t help but think back to the strange writing you had in your notebook. It wasn’t that hard to figure out that those writings and your current behavior were connected.

“A-are you sure about this I-Iida?” Izuku asked. “Yeah, I mean she could just be trying to express herself. Nothing’s more manly than taking control of your emotions!” Eijirou declared with a smile while Tsuyu thought quietly.

“I’m most certain the writing within her notebook was not merely a method to cope with her emotions,” he replied sternly. “Are you sure?” Eijirou asked before Tsuyu spoke up. “Ribbit, well if Iida is right then Y/n needs our help,” she concluded.

“Well, if there’s something wrong and she’s going to go through with what she wrote, I agree,” Eijirou said. Izuku clenched his jaw, his features twisted with uncertainty. “B-but we…we can’t just f-force help onto h-her…” he stated before glancing away, trying to devise a reasonable solution in his head.

“W-what if they try to…l-leave? They haven’t even b-been in class lately a-and…” he frowned. He hated thinking you would do something sneaky like him, Shoto, Tenya, Eijirou, and Momo had when The League kidnapped Katsuki.

Leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone and running around the city in disguises wasn’t the nicest or smartest thing they could have done. Not to mention how they neglected Tsuyu’s feelings on the matter. However, at least they patched things up and Eijirou and her were closer than ever.

All eyes seemed to linger on the ground. More than likely, they were all thinking the same thing Izuku was. “Maybe…we can ask Yaoyorozu for help?” Tsuyu suggested, naturally catching everyone’s attention. “May I ask you to elaborate on your suggestion?” Tenya replied, and Eijirou nodded.

“Yeah, why ask Yaoyorozu for help?” he asked. “I’m sure she can figure out a way to keep track of Y/n without us interfering,” she explained. “Huh…” Eijirou thought about her words, glancing at Izuku who seemed concerned about the idea of asking Momo for help while Tenya sighed.

“Perhaps it would be beneficial to use alternative methods to ensure we don’t worsen Y/n’s already fragile condition,” he said before looking at Tsuyu. “Do you believe Momo could provide such a solution?” Tsuyu smiled, the tip of her tongue sticking out from between her lips.

She nodded in response to Tenya’s question and with some hesitance, the four of them sought her out. “I’m honored that you’d ask for my help,” Yaoyorozu said, placing a hand on her chest. “But I don’t know what I can do,” she said, tapping her lips a few times.

“Y/n is entitled to a little privacy and time alone to sort out her feelings. I can’t imagine what she’s going through,” she said with a frown. “That’s exactly why we need your help!” Eijirou exclaimed, curling his hands into fists.

Yaoyorozu looked at him, her eyebrow raised. “Come on, there must be something you can do,” he said while Tsuyu laid a comforting hand on his back. “Iida is mostly concerned about what he found in Y/n’s notebook,” she explained. “Her notebook?” She asked, looking at Tenya perplexed.

“I’m not certain if the writings found in her notebook were a coping mechanism that assisted her in organizing her complex array of emotions or perhaps…plans she wishes to enact,” he explained. Silence lingered in the air shortly after. Eijirou looked at Izuku before walking toward Yaoyorozu.

“Whatever it is, Iida is right to be concerned. We all are!” He stated, determination shining in his eyes before grabbing Yaoyorozu’s hands. She looked shocked by this action, almost as if it were foreign. He leaned forward, locking eyes with her.

“He’s doing the right thing by bringing this to our attention. Even if Y/n doesn’t want our help, we need to prevent her from making a big mistake,” he said, tightening his grip on her hands. “So please,” he brought her hands against his chest where his heart pounded erratically.

“Will you help us?” He asked. “Mm…” she glanced away, thinking for a moment. “Alright,” she said, standing up. “I think I have a solution,” extending her arm, it glowed a faint blue hue before several oval-shaped devices fell onto the floor, each one clinking as they piled on top of one another.

“Huh?” Eijirou looked at the devices, clearly confused about what they were while Tenya picked one up, examining it closely. “These are motion devices,” Yaoyorozu explained before a larger, more rectangular device manifested from her arm. She quickly grasped it before it hit the floor.

“Here,” she said, holding it out to Tenya. He looked perplexed but took it, nonetheless. She smiled proudly and placed a hand on her hip. “That will alert you when the motion sensors are set off, but it may be impossible to tell what sets them off,” she explained.

“Still, I know it will help with your request,” Tenya enclosed his hand around the device. “Thank you very much for your assistance. I am most certain this will help indeed,” he replied, smiling at Yaoyorozu. She returned it and looked at Eijirou, Tsuyu, and Izuku.

“I believe we should find appropriate locations for these motion devices,” Tenya said, kneeling to gather them in his hand. “R-right!” Izuku replied, helping him pick them up while Eijirou laid his hand on Yaoyorozu’s shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks! We owe you one!” He grinned like a madman showing off his pointy-shark-like teeth and while that may unsettle some, she nodded. “Glad I could help,” she said, “especially if Y/n needs it.” A frown came to her face. “I hope they’re alright.” It was evident she was just as worried as everyone else.

Following this, Tenya carefully considered the proper locations for the motion devices. He believed the most beneficial locations were the front steps of the Class A dormitory, the entrance to the nearby forest, and along the road to Yuuei High. Yes, these particular spots would also be triggered throughout the day.

However, there was more likelihood that, if by chance you would leave, you’d do it at night. The days following were some of Tenya’s most emotionally heightened. He was constantly on edge, waiting for something to happen.

When night came, he always woke up to the sound of the motion devices going off. However, every time he hurried outside, he found that something else triggered it. Like an animal curiously passing by in the dead of night.

While his friends lost hope or doubted that the writings Tenya described in your notebook were malicious, something told him that was not the case. Perhaps one could call it intuition, but he could not accept that those writings were merely emotional expressions.

He believed they were motives. Plans you wished to take into action, and he would not rest until he caught you in the act or prevented you from doing it. So, he continued to wait, and the following night, he was jolted out of his sleep when the device went off as it had done many times before.

He hitched his breath, immediately grabbing his glasses. Despite being in his sleepwear, he slipped on a light jacket, put on his jogging shoes, and left his sleeping cap on his bed. The last thing he grabbed was the device that had jolted him awake and went to your room.

He noticed that your door was left ajar. “Mm…” Despite respecting the inner sanctum of another’s living space, he placed his hand on the doorframe and peered into your room. Even with the lights shut off, he noticed that your bed was undone, and you were nowhere to be found.

He also noticed that the dresser drawers were open, almost as if you rushed to gather clothing before disappearing. His grip tightened on the doorframe, his nails digging into it briefly before he ran down the hallway. He knew his frantic steps might alert his classmates and wake them from their sleep.

However, he did not care, there was a more pressing matter at hand. This was, of course, finding you and possibly stopping whatever horrific act you wished to commit. He had to find you before it was too late. He had to save you.

He pushed past the front door of the student dorm and hurried down the stairs as the cool night air evaporated his breath. He looked back and forth along the road that surrounded the student campus, and his heart sank when he realized you were nowhere in sight.

Silence fell over him, accompanied by the cries of owls and the chirping of insects in the distance. Then he extended one leg out in front of him, bending it at the knee and extending the opposite leg behind him. His calves shifted and six small engines appeared that sparked to life with a loud rumble.

A deafening silence fell over the world around him as his eyes focused forward. He was about to take off to search the surrounding areas where he had placed the motion devices as he had done countless times before. The only difference was that he was certain you had left the premises this time.

While it could have been easy enough to assume you had merely woken up in the middle of the night to have a snack or use the restroom, it appeared you had taken provisions. This was enough to convince him you were out here.

His engines backfired temporarily when a hand grabbed his shoulder, surprising him and breaking his concentration. “Wow, heh, sorry Iida,” Eijirou said, flashing him a smile. “We were wondering if you’d be out here,” Tsuyu chimed in, coming to stand next to Eijirou. Tenya knit his eyebrows.

“Well, heh,” Eijirou rubbed the back of his head, “you kind of woke everyone up with your rushed footsteps…and Izuku wanted to know what happened,” he explained, nervously. Tsuyu nodded. “When he noticed you weren’t in your room, he searched the dorm, ribbit.”

She then shrugged. “I figured you’d gone after Y/n or something else that triggered the motion sensors,” she explained, pressing one finger to her chin. “Yeah, but we didn’t want you to search alone anymore or go after Y/n by yourself, considering how determined you can get sometimes,” Eijirou said before looking around.

“I was just preparing to track her down,” Tenya explained, almost sounding irritated that he had been interrupted despite knowing his friends meant well. “We’ll help then!” He declared and ignored Tenya’s raised eyebrow.

“I am not certain that is the most beneficial-” Eijirou grabbed onto his shoulders, shaking him. “Which way do you want us to go?!” He asked frantically, and yet again Tenya looked at him with a raised eyebrow before a sigh passed his lips. He felt annoyed but knew that, perhaps, the more help he got the better.

Then again, this was a delicate situation and if more than one person approached you, there was a chance you’d become hostile. That is why he needed to ensure that he found you first. But regardless, he nodded. “Very well,” he said, clasping his chin in thought.

“Perhaps Tsuyu can provide assistance in searching behind the campus. I will search the area up ahead,” he stated, motioning with his hand. “Right, I’ll go this way!” Eijirou exclaimed before running in the opposite direction. In Tenya’s mind, he wondered if they’d get in trouble.

The teachers keep a close eye on the student housing, but surely, they’d understand this situation if Tenya explained it to them. “Good luck on your search Iida,” Tsuyu said before hopping off the ground at a great distance. He watched her soar through the air and turned to see Eijirou looking back and forth a long way down the path.

He trusted that they would do the right thing if they happened upon you but now wasn’t the time to sit and contemplate that. Once again, he got into position, and without delay he was gone in a flash, leaving nothing but lingering gray smoke behind.

The world blurred around him as he sped by, yet it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. The piercing wind against his body felt like a thousand tiny cuts across his exposed flesh, but he didn’t care. Like a true hero, the only thing he focused on in this moment was you.

Near the wooded area, opposite the student dormitory, he slowed his pace and leaned over. Placing his hands on his knees, he panted softly and wiped the sweat from his face. His chest felt heavy, and perhaps that was the weight of responsibility he felt.

He needed to find you, but how? There were endless possibilities as to which direction and path you had taken. Even with his friends searching the area, what was the likelihood that they’d find you before the sun rose? His soft panting continued, and the cool air around him made his moistened skin sting.

The feeling of doubt was beginning to linger in the back of his mind when he felt something vibrate in his pocket. “Hm,” he paused and leaned up before pulling out the device. He looked at it perplexed as it continued to vibrate in his hand.

He pondered for a moment if this was merely another false alarm and that an animal had triggered one of the many motion sensors that were scattered about the area. However, as he lifted his head and glanced into the distance, he noted the trees that made up the nearby forest.

He couldn’t recall at this moment if he had placed a motion sensor in the location he was currently in, but perhaps this was a sign. He swallowed thickly and placed the device back into his pocket before his engines reeved again and he took off for the forest.

The ground underneath him seemed to change in density, its surface turning thicker and more slippery. Perhaps that was due to the mud that accumulated in the area, and he had to slow his pace the closer he got to the entrance of the forest to not slip and fall. He would despise being covered in mud.

Taking a deep breath, he ignored the pounding of his heart in his chest as he cautiously walked up to the first set of trees and noticed a small square device resting against the base of one of the said trees. When he got closer, the device in his pocket vibrated once more.

“Hm,” he clasped his chin and looked at the ground. Although it was dark, the moon allowed him just enough light to be able to make out footprints that led into the forest. “Mm,” he frowned and slowly kneeled to examine them closer.

It was impossible to tell if these were your footprints or perhaps someone else’s, but either way time was ticking away, and seconds were precious now. It was evident that there was a chance you had deviated from the path and instead, took refuge in the forest.

If that were true, then not only were you in danger of getting lost but potential animals could cause harm to you as well. Regardless, if there was a sliver of a chance that you had attempted to hide yourself in the greenery, he needed to take it.

With that in mind, he headed to the forest. He cautiously glanced around and despite the darkened sky looming above him, the small amount of light provided by the moon helped outline the trees and the path that nestled between them.

[ Part II ]

#tenya x female reader #iida x fem!reader #iida x female reader #tenya ida x reader #iida x y/n #tenya x reader #tenya x you #tenya iida x reader #iida x reader #tenya x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #faulty writes: tenya iida: 23 #faulty writes: tenya iida: legacy of sir nighteye: short series: 23 #faulty writes: tenya iida: 24 #faulty writes: tenya iida: legacy of sir nighteye: short series

[welivetodream]

Camilla Macaulay: the twist villain that never was.

(ps: this is just a headcanon and personal opinion, nothing serious!)

Out of all the characters in TSH, Camilla to me seemed the most enigmatic, more than even Henry Winter. There's something about her that I cannot understand. I couldn't trust her when I was reading TSH for the first time, I thought she was going to be the mastermind behind it all.

Why? Isn't Camilla the nicest of all of them? So was Charles, and look at what happened to him. The twins gave me the ick a lot of the times, especially during re-reads where I could see the early hints of the incest reveal and the abuse. It could have been completely believable, if Camilla, behind the scenes was the one causing the drama all along.

1. Richard's rose coloured lens: since the story is told from his point of view, it's understandable if he decided to leave some details, changed the story or was oblivious to some things he didn't want to remember or think about. He had the most bias for Camilla, she was his crush. And we often look at our crushes with rose tinted glasses and often hide their flaws and mistakes. Richard shows bias towards the Greek class even before he was in it and his infatuation with Camilla could be the reason why we don't get any bad details about her throughout the story.

2. Motives: while Bunny did get murdered for blackmailing and trying to betray the Greek class. Only Camilla had other motives to cause distress among the others. Particularly, Charles. We know he was extremely possessive with her and has caused her emotional and physical abuse (there's background info we get at times about the twins having broken objects in the house and other times where Charles is possessive of Camilla). I don't think she truly loves Henry, it's more that being with him gives her the protection and safety she needs. She has shown some kind of liking to Francis, they seem good friends and have kissed two times (I call it gay solidarity). She plays with Richard's heart a lot, kissing him when no one is looking and making him think he has a chance when he clearly doesn't. Camilla is overshadowed by the guys in her friend group; getting the "only girl treatment". Bunny is always trying to get under her nerves and is misogynistic towards her. Charles is controlling and abusive (her own brother). Henry is cold and sociopathic, as well as someone you can't trust ("I call it redistribution of matter"). Richard is a simp. Francis is there.

3. What could have happened: Camilla, tired of the way her life is tied to Charles, Henry and Richard and their feelings towards her forcing her into a corner with no choice of her own. As well as, mentally scared from the murder of the farmer, decides to end all of the misfortunes in her life. Instead of Henry making the plans, it's Camilla in this version of the story that decides to kill Bunny both to get rid of him from her life as well as to hide the first murder. But she does this from the shadows. And the person that discovers her plan is Francis, since they have a relatively good relationship, it's possible he wouldn't spill her plans and stay quiet. She gaslights Henry into believing he ended up killing Bunny (let's say he went through with the poisonous mushrooms but instead Camilla gave Bunny actual posion)

When Charles goes into his villain arc, Camilla uses Henry as a shield to keep him away. And in the final scene, instead of Henry shooting himself, Charles ends up shooting him and Camilla shoots Charles as an act of revenge. She then threatens Richard that if he says a word about this (both Bunny and Charles's murder) then he would die too, she does that to seal her secret; she knows Richard has a big mouth and might betray her and spares Francis, since he already knew and is trustable. Camilla cleans her fingerprints from the gun and puts it in Charles's hand in order to frame it as a murder-suicide. Camilla attends their funerals and gives an alibi in front of the police that her, Richard and Francis were in the country house during the murder-suicide and then testified that Charles and Henry were the ones who were involved in the two murders and were holding them hostage with that information, clearing the three of them from the murders. Then she finally leaves for a better life. (Maybe the epilogue would be about Francis telling Richard about Camilla's behind-the-scenes story, showcasing the aftermath and what they are doing in the present)

4. Character arc: making Camilla crucial to the plot and a twist villain would give so much to her character. Her mysterious nature, absence from the main plot and lack of impact at the start of the story could be explained by her secretly planning their downfalls and her escape. Instead of her being the object of affection for the three guys and being the typical "girl that ruins the friendships between guy friends", she is the hidden mastermind with her own motives, personality and story. She was the only one who didn't change in the second part. But in this version of the story, she is the one who drives it's entire narrative.

Let her be manipulative, a liar, a gaslighter. Let her show the wrath of female rage.

When the twins were introduced in white clothing, looking like angels. Maybe they were wolves in sheep's clothing. Both of the twins. Not just Charles but Camilla too. They were creepy, eerie, and strange. They hid their true personalities behind southern hospitality and beautiful features.

"Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it"

After all, the best characters are the grey ones.

#dark academia #the secret history #chaotic academia #donna tartt #tsh #henry winter #richard papen #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #francis abernathy #bunny concoran

[ohtobeleah]

Father, Son & The Holy Shit // Jake Seresin

Prologue: [Father, Son & Suck My Dick Seresin.] At a funeral that couldn’t have come soon enough, you relive what could possibly be described as the most devastating tragedy of your entire life. Jake Hangman Seresin.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x Bradshaw!reader. Age Gap. Funeral gathering. Angst! Dark & Mature themes. 18+ Minors do not engage.

Author Note: Thankyou @seresinsaint for encouraging me to be a little fucked up.

-> Masterlist

You never thought this day would come. In your mind, it was ten years overdue. Tens years long long overdue. But even though you’d been praying for this day to come—willing it into existence, it still felt so surreal. 

Commander Jake Hangman Seresin was dead. And you couldn’t wait for the soil to set so you could dance on top of his grave. 

There was not an ounce of you that felt a single bit of remorse. But regardless, you trailed behind your father, now Admiral Bradley Rooster Bradshaw. Chief of naval operations and chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. 

“Where’s dad?” Tilly, your ten year old asked softly as she looked up at you and asked as politely as she possibly could. Dressed in a black dress that matched your own, she was the spitting image of you. Only she had those sinful emerald eyes. 

You could tell your dad was on the lookout for him too, knowing that it had been just shy of three years since the two of you were in a room together. He was usually the middle man, the mediator in all this. Today was going to be interesting. 

“He’s around here somewhere baby.” You paused in your stride as you made it to the bottom of the hill at Wayne Richards Memorial Cemetery. You couldn’t do this, you thought you could but you just couldn’t. “Dad—“ You choked out and Rooster turned on his heels to see how not okay you were. “Can you take Tilly up to Kian please? I—I just need a minute.” He didn’t need to ask if you were alright, he knew you weren’t—but this day wasn’t about you. 

It was about Jake Seresin. 

“Come on Tilly girl, let's give your mum some space for five, your Dads gonna want you to stamp grandpa’s wings in.” Nothing about that sentence was fucking normal. Nothing about your family dynamic was fucking normal. But you let your dad, Rooster—lead your daughter up the grassy hill towards the funeral gathering. 

Turns out Commander Seresin was a pretty loved guy. But that love didn’t run through your veins. No way no how. The only reason you agreed to attend was to see it for yourself. That he was dead and buried and couldn’t mess your life up anymore than he already had. You had so much going for yourself, you were a good person with a bright future. 

Except for the past ten years you’d been in and out of rehabilitation and AA meetings that it all just fell through your fingertips. You were, however, a good mother. 

“Fuck this.” You sighed and you lit a cigarette, holding it between your lips as you flicked your lighter and lit a flame that soon enough, ignited the cancer stick you prayed would give you some sort of incurable disease that would ultimately take you out of this hell. Knowing your luck you’d live a long and fruitful life—oh how god placed his strongest battles on his weakest soldiers shoulders. 

“Those things’ll kill you, you know.” You heard a familiar voice creeping up behind you as you stood at the bottom of the hill, watching car after car attend the funeral of a man that ruined your fucking life. 

They’d never know. 

“Unfortunately, I’m not that lucky.” You sighed as you blew a plume of smoke up and away from the face of a man you knew hated your very existence. He gestured for the cigarette between your fingers, reluctantly you handed it to him. Thinking he was going to take a puff. 

Kian Seresin brought the cigarette up to his lips, turned to look at you—before he dropped it to the grass below and crushed it with his shoe. A shoe that was damn near as black as your soul. 

“Ass—“ 

“Tilly doesn’t need you full of carcinogens.” He hissed. Placing his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. You simply took another cigarette from your purse and lit it all the same. “Y/n—“ You kept eye contact the entire time. “For fuck sake.” Kian sighed, he hated you smoking—always had. 

“Free country Kian.” You shrugged. “How you holding up anyway?” You didn’t care. You hadn’t cared about Kian in years, the same way he didn’t care about you. For Tilly you remained passive. You co-parented enough to make it believable that the two of you could stand together alone in a room without blowing each other’s brains out. But that’s exactly why you didn’t spend time together. 

Because you both would. 

“As well as I can be.” He replied. You knew it was coming. He always had a need to remind you. It was his thing, your therapist told you that it was a coping mechanism—to throw all the blame on you. “You know, for a guy who’s girlfriend fucked his dad.” Ah. Yep. There it was. 

“Good one, never heard that one before.” You snapped back. Walking with Kian up towards where he’d lay his father to rest. “I thought you of all people would be pretty chuffed he kicked the bucket.” 

“I am.” Kian replied as he played with his suit jacket. “Guy cost me more money in therapy than he could ever repay.” That was probably the one thing the two of you ever agreed upon. “But uh, even after all these years I still stay up thinking about it.” You knew what Kian was referring to because the same thing kept you up. It had kept you up for ten years and would keep you up for a lifetime more. “Do you think he knew?” 

“I think he liked to think he knew for sure, but I don’t think we’ll ever find out.” None of this was fair. Your life could be defined into two categories. Pre the Seresins and post the Seresins. Only there would never be a day where you were free of them. You’d be forever tied to the Seresin family. Your daughter Tilly stood to inherit a hell of a lot of money and assets in the wake of Jake's death. “Only the worms know now.” 

For two people who couldn’t stand one another—you and Kian always did a pretty good job keeping up appearances. You both knew eyes were always on the pair of you, so that’s exactly why you’d both agreed it was best to not see each other. It was for the benefit of your daughter. 

“Dad!” Tilly cooed as she ran up to you and Kian, he crouched and placed a single knee into the grass as he held her tight. “I’ve missed you—“ She nuzzled into his shoulder and for a moment Bradley remembered what it was like when you were that young—when your mother would meet him at the doc post deployment and you’d come running up to him. 

“I missed you too, Bugalugs.” Kian mumbled back as he held his daughter, or rather, assumed daughter. The timeline was that blurred the two of you would never really know for sure: 

If Tilly Bug Seresin was Jake Seresins daughter or if she was in fact Kians. 

Regardless—Kian loved her as his own. He always hoped she was. 

“Kian—“ Bradley shook Kians hand with a firm grip, he always had a soft spot for the kid in all of this. “Sorry this family gathering couldn’t be under more positive circumstances.” Without a beat, Kian had you wishing you hadn’t taken a drag of your cigarette when you had. 

“Nothing more positive than donating garbage back to Mother Earth, Admiral.” He didn’t miss a single beat. Rooster was just as taken aback as you were—the dig at her grandfather went straight over Tilly’s head. “Shall we?” He smiled your way. Pressing a hand to the small of your back as you coughed and tried to regain your composure. 

This was going to be a long, but overdue, funeral.

Just like you thought it would be, it was. You sat with your ex, the hopeful father of your daughter and his family that never knew just how messed up things had gotten. Your dad, Admiral Bradshaw stood at attention with the rest of the Dagger Squad that had been like a found family to Jake. You recognised all of them. They couldn’t look at you. They knew. They all knew and as they looked at your daughter as she stamped the wings into Jake's coffin they wanted to just die. 

“Aim!” You held your breath for the gun fire that followed soon after. “Fire!” 

“Aim!” Jake didn’t deserve this honorable send off. “Fire!” But he was loved, oh so loved by his family and friends and colleagues alike. 

“Aim!” You were probably the only person in attendance that wished this day had come sooner. “Fire!” But you settled for today. 

“I’d like to invite Commander Seresins family to say their final goodbyes—“ It was the moment you had been waiting for. The reason you had told your dad you’d come to the funeral. To have the last laugh. One by one you watched members of the Seresin family, including your daughter and her dad say their goodbyes. They dropped a mix of white and yellow chrysanthemums onto the top of the casket you’d dreamed about viewing. One by one your turn was nearing, in the moment you almost choked up—but you’d waited ten years for this moment, you weren’t going to waste it. 

As you placed a single flower on top of Jake Hangman Seresin coffin, you smirked just enough to stifle a maniacal laugh. Leaning in, you kissed the top of the coffin and whispered just loud enough that you would be the only person living to hear the last words ever spoken to Jake Seresin. The piece of shit he was. 

“You aren’t even good enough for the worms—“ You paused, this was it. Your final goodbye. You felt a weight lifting from your shoulder as you looked to the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin for what felt like the first time in ten years. “Fuck you, Seresin.” You tapped the wings your daughter had smacked into the coffin. 

“Rot in hell.” 

***~***~***~**~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#father son & the holy shit // jake seresin #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake smut #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin

[wildpeachfarm]

As someone who was in an abusive relationship for years I want to tell people that almost no one is irredeemable. I thought so as well for a long time, but then had a sudden change in view due to my absusive ex. And this is not to defend Wilbur, I couldn't care less for that guy as I never was a fan, but for people who tell abusers to kill themselves.

I was with my abuser for 5 years, he started being abusive after one year in our relationship. The reason I escaped said relationship was due to a good friends sudden passing and him mocking me for mourning and trying to stop myself from attending the funeral. It was like a kick in the face of 'You need to get away from here', after being manipulated into staying in the relationship for years.

Anyway, I escaped and started a new live away from my abuser. Six years down the road I found him on social media and saw him being engaged with another person. Due to my past I immediately contacted the person to warn them before actually marrying.

Just a day later I got an answer which changed a lot in how I see people. The new partner of my ex KNEW about hist past. Apparently he had told them about it a few months into the relationship. And they told me that my ex, a few weeks after I ended the relationship, started to go to therapy after family and friends kinda forced him to.

And thanks to said therapy he now understands what he did was wrong and has not returned to his abusive way in years. The new partner also said that, should he ever try it, they will leave immediately and only return when he aknowledges what he did. Apparently he still goes to therapy regularly and has been doing wonderful and has admitted that he had treated me wrong but couldn't face me due to knowing how much he hurt me.

So yeah. Abusive people CAN change as long as they have people who help them along the way and as long as they understand what they did was wrong and seek professional help. I don't think Wilbur is irredeemable when it comes to being abusive and I understand when other victims of DA see it differently, but I also understand when some people hope that he actually goes to therapy and, at some point, actually apologizes for what he did to Shelby. I can see a future where he, as a better person, can at least return to doing music and people being able to listen to it without feeling horrible for doing so.

Thank you for this anon, I think this is some great insight and I appreciate you sharing :)

#ask #anon #anti drummyache tag

[rockofeye]

A death rite in Haitian Vodou

Here is a rare look at the publicly viewable portion of desounay/desounen, which is the first rite after a houngan, manbo, or other vodouizan passes. Unfortunately, this was a rite done on behalf of the death of a very well known and well respected houngan in Jacmel, Haiti who died unexpectedly this morning. This is difficult to watch, with lots of crying and expressions of grief.

The video begins with the procession, which has likely started at the home of the houngan (Woodson Antoine, ki di Gwètòde Plenipontansyè), where he passed, and is leading into the temple where Houngan Sonson was initiated. The procession ends as the rest of the desounay is completed behind closed doors. After, folks who have arrived gather to hear Houngan Woodson's papa kanzo speak, and then the videographer shares the news that Houngan Woodson has passed and shares what details were available; that he has been in ceremony just hours earlier with many of the people present, had not been well and had many health issues, had been encouraged to go to the hospital, and then went home, where he passed due to breathing difficulties. By the time an ambulance was found, he had already gone. The videographer compares desounay to the Catholic rite of extreme unction, which is aimed at allowing someone sick to pass to eternity with the blessings of their God and forgiven of their sins. Desounay is a little different than that, as it is only completed after death.

The desounay is completed as soon as possible after death is realized; this is the first ceremony that begins to separate our various soul pieces to go where they must so that we, our lwa, and our descendants can have peace after we pass. It is preferable that this ceremony is done before the body is taken from the home to the morgue or funeral home. In this case, you can see how quickly it was put together; it is happening very early in the morning, pre-9AM, and folks have clearly come directly from ceremony or their homes in a rush, you can see that they have put their white clothes on over other clothes or black and purple clothes from the Gede ceremonies they were attending. This has happened so quickly that there has not been time to prepare the temple or really even the community; Houngan Woodson was extremely well known in Jacmel and in Haiti at large due to his position as gwètò and not everyone was able to come in the moment to share in the grief. His bowoum and traditional internment will undoubtedly be huge.

This is a huge loss. While Haitian Vodou professes no central authority figure(s), a gwètò is a sort of regional coordinator that takes on the responsibility of watching over the community/communities in his or her region. A gwètò might mediate disputes, help a new temple start up, and represent the region throughout the country. Houngan Woodson took his position seriously and attended just about every ceremony in the area, even if he could only go for awhile. I personally benefitted from his intercession when there were local issues my husband needed help with, and I knew Houngan Woodson to be a kind, thoughtful, and caring individual who was always pleased to see me and hear how I was.

This has been a very introspective Gede season for me; Gede has had me sitting and reflecting on things that I will write about soon. What I have thought about today in thinking about this particular death is that access to healthcare is a liberation issue. While only Bondye knows our time and we ask to only be taken at our right time, had Haiti had more equitable access to both emergency medical care in that someone could have called for help and Houngan Woodson could have gone to a hospital that was staffed and had medical equipment, and regular healthcare that could have provided ongoing support for his medical issues as we know in many other parts of the world, perhaps his death could have been avoided. If liberation was fully realized in Haiti, deaths from things we take for granted as minor annoyances, like asthma, strep throat, high blood sugar, and similar, would be a thing of the past.

Woukoukou, yon gwo pyebwa te tonbe. May Houngan Woodson awaken in the company of his ancestors and his lwa in Alada, and may his friends, family, and loved ones find comfort in his memory.

#vodou #haitian vodou #desounay #desounen #death rites #Youtube

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Nineteen.

Another chapter and wishes of a very happy Friday to my beautiful audience! :D

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen

Words - 3,763

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

4am. It was not a time Emma was used to seeing, unless she was up late being railed into a new shape by Guero, or enjoying the pleasures of partying. She knew Lee would be even less impressed, with how much she thrived upon a good night’s sleep. 

The very lady was waiting outside as they came out, Gilly yawning in the passenger seat. With their bags dumped in the back of her Escalade and Axl dropped next door for a stay with his uncle Tyrone (who proclaimed ‘imma spoil the dude to death, man!’) they climbed in, still half asleep. Since Emma had no passport or ID yet, Lee, Gilly and Guero were sharing the driving, just over three hours each to make the ten-and-a-half-hour journey rather than flying. 

“I feel bad, that we can’t fly and it’s because of me,” she huffed, Lee hitting the freeway, the engine roaring as the six hundred and eighty-two horses beneath the hood all charged to gallop. 

“How come you ain’t got that sorted yet?” Gilly asked, Emma sipping from her bottle of cherry Coke, burping quietly.  

“Because of a point Guero made,” she began, tightening the lid and placing it in her lap. “Since I’ve been a missing person, there’s obviously still a file open on me, one which will be closed when I show up. I’d likely have to be interviewed by the police over where I’ve been and who with for so long as well, too many questions would be asked.  

“If I ratted on Rocco, my worry about being snatched would turn into a worry about being shot in the head. I was going to go down the new identity route and buy fake documents, but depending on how all of this goes, I may not need to.” 

Lee looked at her in the rearview mirror, winking with a smile. “Here’s hoping, sugar.” She then paused before noting something glaring in similarity about the way all four had chosen to dress. “I can’t help but fuckin’ notice, I love the way all four of us try to look a little less like the tattooed reprobates that we are and instead, end up looking like the goddamned Addam’s Family.” 

Every single person within the car was donned in black, all of them beginning to laugh when they noticed that their attempt at semi-smartness had them appearing as if they were attending a funeral. 

“Goths R Us, man,” Gilly snorted with amusement, beginning to whistle the theme tune to the aforementioned family movie, Emma giving the double finger click at the required point, too.   

“Well, I gotta say it, sunshine. You suit being a redhead,” Lee then spoke, turning to look at her, thinking how pretty her bestie looked in the long, red wig with tumbling waves.  

“Doesn’t she, though?” Guero chimed, winking at Emma. “Maybe a little too much. Goddamn women, pulling some Jessica fucking Rabbit magic on a man." 

"What is it about you guys and that woman?" Lee cried, moving her car to the middle lane to overtake a slow-moving vehicle ahead. "She's a fuckin’ drawing!" 

"Yeah, and I'd nail her until I erased her, I swear to god," he chirped, Gilly busting into hysterics. 

"Same, bro. I'd fuck her until her colours ran!" Everyone fell apart in fits of laughter, Lee thinking that already it was more than worth her 3am start and missing her precious sleep for the sheer entertainment value alone. She wasn’t the only one glad of it, the comic relief provided by her boyfriend and Gilly just the thing Emma needed to take her mind off the fact that with every mile that passed, she was nearing the man she feared most.  

By the seven-hour point, Guero returned to her side in the back while Gilly took his turn behind the wheel, her nerves were palpable. Looking out of the window while gnawing on the side of her thumb, she saw a hand reach for hers in her peripherals, turning to watch Guero softly shake his head with a faint smile.  

“You’re stressing.” Pulling her hand away from her mouth, he grasped it in his, shifting over a little closer and wrapping his arm around her. “You gotta stop. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”  

“Easy to say that,” she muttered, leaning into him. 

“Yeah, it fucking is,” he snorted, kissing her head. “Cuz’ I’ll fucking finish him if he lays a finger on you, and you know this.” His hand tightened its grip on hers, his nostrils flaring a little. The rage towards Rocco still swirled just as tempestuously as ever, along with his already short fuse.  

He softened a little then, realising she likely didn’t need to hear it, or worry about him being able to hang onto his fiery temper. “I get it, you feeling nervous. It’ll be alright, though.”  

Nervous was somewhat of an understatement, Emma feeling like she wanted to throw up as Gilly parked outside the hotel just over three hours later.  

“So, what I’m thinking is that after talking to Obispo, these guys seemed to be enjoying everything the resort had to offer. Squash, golfing, casino, etc,” Lee began, after the guys had gone to check in. “Which means that I can hang around in the bar, keep an eye on the comings and goings of ‘em. Except, fuck. I don’t know what he fuckin’ looks like.”  

Emma pulled out her phone, calling up Google. As with a lot of notable members of the mafia, Vincent’s face was very easily accessible. Clicking on his mugshot from an arrest after a large shoot out he’d been arrested for his part in around a decade ago, she turned the screen. “Like that, but a little aged. He’s very distinctive.”  

Lee had already taken a good look at the hotel layout, scanning the pictures and seeing that from the large bar and restaurant area, the front desk and entrance was visible. She was entirely happy to play barfly with Gilly while Emma hid in her room. “Alright, and there’s my visual. He looks... intense.” 

That was one way to describe a man who had once chopped off someone’s feet and fed them to Diavolo, his Akita. “He is, he’s very formidable.” Her voice was small, the quietness of her tone reminding Lee of her demeanour back when they’d first met, minus the shaking and the stuttered words.  

Reaching for Emma’s hand, she cocked her head. “It’s fuckin’ gonna be fine. You forget I’m ex-military. I know how to run a fuckin’ smooth operation, sunshine.” She winked, Emma feeling at ease, squeezing her hand back before the arrival of Gilly and Guero parted them, hopping out of the car.  

“Lobby is all clear from anyone of the Italian American persuasion,” Gilly spoke, swinging his rucksack over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” Taking Guero’s hand, she gripped it tightly, adjusting her sunglasses before beginning to walk. She felt as if she had a serpent writhing around in her guts, some cold, spiny creature that thrashed angrily, her heartbeat escalating, expecting him to pop up at any moment and snatch her again. 

Heading in through the glass doors that slid open with a silky glide, her eyes were everywhere beneath her oversized aviators, Guero pulling her to the right, past the front desk and through to the safety of the ground floor hallway. Immediately, she felt herself unravel a little.  

“Okay, we’ll see you guys at some point, I guess. I will call with details from my little stakeout,” Lee spoke, she and Gilly continuing down the hall as Guero opened the door to their room. 

As soon as she was inside, she felt the creeping sensation at her back abate, yet she was a nervous mess, riddled with anxiety, wanting to go straight into her medication bottle and swallow back a couple of doses to calm herself. Taking more than her standard dose tended to have the opposite effect, though.  

Reaching for Guero, she wrapped herself around him, burying her face against the side of his neck. Safe person. Safe person scent. It transported her back to a time where he was the only person she’d trusted while in the thick of her anxious duress, but for that moment her body refused to comply with the logic her brain was desperately trying to convey.  

“Breathe, baby. It’s okay.” he told her, hands stroking her back, feeling her chest rising and falling rapidly against his, her heart pounding hard. He closed his eyes, arms tightening around her, a tide of anger rising within him. She’d worked so hard in the last near eleven months to recover, and now there she was again, trembling and frightened.  

The urge to go and wait outside of Rocco’s room and bypass the plan completely, to shoot him in the head as soon as he laid eyes on the vile, abusive, child trafficking, raping sack of shit who’d once again reduced his sweetheart to a nervous wreck was almost all encompassing. He knew though that would land them in the kind of trouble none of them would survive, taking out a mafia boss without the agreement of those who served under him.  

He couldn’t even imagine an alternative to Calabrese condoning the hit, or being told that the Romano family would handle it internally, should he be in complete agreement with the proposal they were bringing to him. None of them could live unless he died, and Emma? She’d be returned to Staten Island, with nobody to save her.  

The thought of being dead and her alone in the world had been on his mind so much, he’d even considered fleeing with her to Mexico, should things not go in the favour of the Mayans. He loved his club, but he wouldn’t be a sitting duck, waiting for the weight of the mafia to crush them.  

He believed in standing to fight, and his loyalty to the club tugged strongly at him, but he was smart enough not to remain on a sinking ship if he saw water beginning to pour in. He had not come to such a conclusion easily, either. His simple desire to survive outweighed anything else, now that it potentially could come down to that.   

Realising he was spiralling into his own thoughts, he shook himself from it all, being present for her, as he needed to be before anything else. Holding her close had begun to calm her, Emma finally straightening to kiss him, resting her forehead to his.  

“And I’m calmer now.” Her thumbs stroked over the flecks of stubble dotting his cheeks. “Thanks for always been so steadying when I need you to be.” 

Smiling, he kissed her again. “You’re welcome, and good. I fucking hate seeing you like that, all cuz’ of him.”  

Sucking in a breath over her teeth, she drew her shoulders up, the weight of her sigh tugging them down again. She hated feeling like that, too, everything rushing to the surface once more. “Let’s pray he isn’t going to be around much longer to do it, huh?”  

It went without saying, he thought. 

They hung around in the room for a few hours, Lee calling at just before seven, informing Emma that the mob guys had all just arrived in the bar for a drink, before being told by one of the staff that their cars were ready. With it looking like they were heading out elsewhere for the night, she was safe to go and eat dinner in the restaurant, a prospect that made her feel nervous, but that she participated in all the same. She changed into a long, tight grey dress, having to fend off Guero before they left. 

“What’s the matter with you?” she laughed upon sitting at the table, Lee virtually vibrating in her seat opposite. “You look a little jazzed, buddy.” 

“Been on the fuckin’ coffee all afternoon! Changed to sparkly water about halfway through, but I didn’t wanna get loaded propping up the bar and I think choosing to be caffeinated might’ve been a little bit of a fuckin’ mistake!” 

Gilly snorted with laughter, shaking his head. “Dude, I told you to get decaf.” 

“Can’t ever do that, fuckin’ decaf is bullshit! I’ll be fine, they gotta pool here and I brought my swimsuit. I’ll go swim it off, do some lengths, get all the energy out, y’know?”  

Her very wide-eyed demeanour had them in soft fits, Lee’s hand shaking upon her beer glass, making her food order at a hundred miles an hour to the entertained looking waiter.  

“And I gotta deal with this all night.” Gilly laughed, receiving an elbow from the hopped-up lady herself. She seemed to calm a little for eating, a firm but polite no given when the waiter asked them if they wanted coffee once they’d finished, calling it an evening at 10pm. Well, Lee and Gilly stayed up to see if Vincent returned back at a decent hour, but Emma and Guero headed straight back to their room. 

Opening the door for her, he gestured that she should enter first. “There, you get me being a gentleman just once, before I turn straight animal.” He smacked her ass, kicking the door shut, Emma removing her boots and socks. 

“Love, you’re always straight animal,” she purred, winking at him. He snaked his arms around her, moving her hair, softly biting the side of her neck with a playful growl. Those nibbles turned to kisses, hands pawing at her. Grasping his hoodie, she pulled it over his head, her nails gently raking down his chest as his mouth met hers, manoeuvring to the bed, pushing him onto it.  

“I have to take this off, my head is like a furnace.” Pulling off the wig, she unclipped her hair and let it tumble loose, messy waves framing her face, Guero sitting up to watch keenly as she began to lower her dress. The way his eyebrows rose significantly at the reveal of her black, diamond mesh underwear tugged at the corners of her mouth. 

“Wow. Get the fuck on me, right now.”  

Ahh, the desired effect.  

“Is that what you want, hmm?” 

His eyes swept her with desire, his cock beginning to harden at just the sight of her, nodding in response to her words. 

“Yeah, I know what you want,” she spoke, coming to sit astride him, pushing her fingers into his mouth, her nipples hard against his chest through the thin mesh of her bra. “You want to pin me down and fuck my tight little pussy until I gush all over your cock, don’t you? Mmm, I love it when you get me so wet that it starts running over my thighs, when you hold me down and pound me so hard, I get dizzy. Yeah, I love it like that.” She ran her tongue up the side of his neck, her hips beginning to gyrate, grinding herself against the big erection she felt tenting his jeans.  

He groaned barbarously around the suck upon her fingers, his teeth clamping in a hard bite, Emma pulling them from between his gorgeous lips before her mouth locked to his. Their kisses rained sensuality and steamy heat, Guero lying back on the bed, the feel of pristine hotel linens sumptuous against his bare back, hands travelling all over her as he moaned against her tongue.  

If there was a sweeter way to kill time, he was yet to experience it.  

Moving beneath her, his body topped hers, pressing her into the bed as his hands slid to make short work of her underwear, sitting up only to shed the remainder of his clothes before his mouth was on hers once more. He kissed her with all the love and heated desire he felt for her, hand trailing down her thigh as he shifted his weight a little, fingers skimming over the sumptuously dewy petals of her cunt. 

That first touch had her arching off the bed, her back bending like a crescent moon, her moan rich and full bodied, his thick, clever fingers spreading her wetness around, settling upon her clit and beginning to circle. His touch was so perfect, Emma mewling softly as she felt her core ache, his breaths heavy against her neck as he moved to kiss her elegant throat, a soft groan rumbling his as he pushed two fingers into her.   

“Oh god, you’re so fucking wet for me already.” He rumbled, his mouth finding hers, kissing her with all the heat of a furnace, those keen fingers seeking out her sweet spots. Focused rotations forced soft little exclamations from her, Guero drinking them down like wine as his lips locked with hers. “Yeah, that feel good, baby?” 

She couldn’t even form words, delight tumbling through her, merely uttering a soft little moan as her head fell back on the bed, his fingers entering, rotating, dragging back, moving his thumb to her clit to stroke it in perfect rhythm. It always boosted his ego a little, seeing how easily he could make her sail into bliss with just two fingers. 

It didn’t take long for him to kiss a sizzling path down her body, his mouth craving to be quenched with what drenched his fingers, removing them, sucking her wetness from them with a hungry grunt. He pushed her legs wider so she splayed for him, delving his tongue right into her folds, the syrupy wet of her pussy drenching his mouth.   

His tongue dragged her eagerly, long licks from her glossy opening to her clit making her very bones shudder in ecstasy, Guero groaning, watching her body undulate before him. The rolling heat of his tongue pressed flat as it circled her clit, sending waves of bliss through her, her little whimpers filling the air, his hands gripped at her waist as he felt her puddling against his tongue.  

She looked down, watching him do it, gasping, her fingers raking through his hair. “You look so fucking hot with a mouthful of my pussy.” 

He grinned against her, sucking on her clit. “And you look the same while you’re getting it ate, mamas.” He winked, closing his eyes, groaning as he took a mouthful of her, loving the feeling of her thighs skimming against his face as she writhed. 

He sucked upon her like ripe fruit, his groans deep, like boulders rolling over one another, the heat radiating up her spine as she panted, watching him tipping her further into mindlessness before her eyes closed and her head fell back. The flickers of the very tip of his tongue working in speed over her clit were too much, but not enough, her body shaking in response of being so lit up. It felt like an ice storm meeting magma, her body gleaming for him, Guero pushing his fingers back within her heat, burrowing deep. 

Placing a suck upon her clit, his cheeks hollowed, the pressure gentle at first, fingers circling her walls, entering her then with rapidity, that suck intensifying until he had her crying out softly. His hunger to devour had him tearing his fingers from her, covering her entire slit in the thirsty suck of his mouth, grunting against her folds as his tongue laved her incessantly.   

Reaching for his jeans, he undid them, sliding them and his boxers down, kicking himself out of them with impatience, the need to be within her rocketing through him. His heart thundered in his chest as anticipation skittered over him, kissing his way back to her mouth, lips meeting hers in a hot mesh of filthy indulgence, his words matching.   

“Wanna spread those gorgeous legs and let me fuck you, huh? Is that what you want, for me to bury my big dick right up deep in this pretty little pussy, huh blue eyes?” Those words fuelled the epicentre of her bonfire, Emma nodding, their kisses scorching as he moved between her legs and glided into her, her walls tensing on his shaft, dragging a groan from the depths of him. He sat back on his heels, taking root in her, his eyes watching the sight of it, his cock sinking in and out, her wetness bathing him thickly. 

He fell to her then, the blinding need to chase the fire roaring through his veins consuming him, his flames catching at her edges as she wrapped her legs around him, their mouths meeting messily.   

“Oh god,” she gasped, clasping his face, seduced further by the look of dark lust pooling his near black eyes. “Fuck me, yeah, that’s it. Oh, fuck me!”   

And he did, pounding into her relentlessly, hitting her so deep, shocks skittered through her. He slowed then, wanting to make it last longer than the rampant charge his arousal was dictating, pulling himself back, thrusting a little shallower, almost retreating, slipping back deeply. His head dipped, sucking her nipples in turn, tongue circling them with a hungry grunt, his hands stroking paths of blissful heat up and down her thighs as his cock hit her deep, deep, deep.   

“Mmmm, fuck. You look so goddamn pretty, spread all around my dick. Got me so fucking drenched, beautiful.” he groaned, sitting back up again, the sight so steeped in erotic heat, he had to close his eyes for a moment, those tingles pulsing too rapidly, the desire to chase his release held fast, slowing, long lashes parting again as he stared down at her. “That feel good, huh?” 

“Oh, you’re fucking amazing!” she cried out, her body jolting when he brought his thumb to her clit, tight circles spreading glimmers through her, pleasure melting down her spine and puddling at her cunt, covering him further in her dew. She raised herself up on her elbows, her hips shunting against each of his thrusts, fucking him back with purpose as she let her gaze fall to watch it.  

He reached beneath her chin, making her focus on him, his forehead resting to hers as he stared at her with so much love, her heart felt full to burst. Stroking his face, she felt like she could see her entire future in the dark sparkle of his lust blown pupils, nuzzling him, whispering her love, sharing kisses steeped in sweet, yet burning heat.  

Her heart jolted suddenly with the weight of it, the realisation of exactly what she would lose if Vincent didn’t agree. He had to, because there was no way she would willingly or easily part from Guero now she’d finally found him. 

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guero x ofc #guero smut #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #mayans mc season 5

[lunar-years]

Holy shit, reading that anon (Jamie is son-shaped to Ted, but Ted is not father-shaped to Jamie) and your answer (how and why Ted fails Jamie every single time) I realized just how much, on the other hand, Jamie and Roy GET each other.

Roy gives Jamie direct instructions on how to become better and win his praise, not only with the training and diet regimen in S3, but back in S2 when Roy comes up with a literal signal, to tell Jamie exactly what to do and when. That's what Jamie responds best to, what he'd been seeking all throughout S2, and somehow Roy just knew.

And Jamie, he never pushes Roy to speak when he senses something is wrong. What he does is, he offers himself up first, honestly and openly, expecting nothing in return, but creating such a supportive environment that Roy naturally starts to open up (ironically, very similar to Ted's approach to Roy lmao).

In Amsterdam he knew that Roy was just taking his negative emotions out on him, and instead of challenging him, Jamie just went along with it, apologizing for being a dick first, sharing his memories of Amsterdam (good and bad), and finally calling Roy out lightly ("you're just taking it out on me"), in passing. And it did not make Roy defensive because until that point Jamie had offered Roy so much of himself, that instead of closing up, Roy naturally let go and was finally honest, with himself and with Jamie (if briefly).

I mean, Jamie taught Roy to ride a bike "for grandad!" but that wasn't enough, he still apologized for being a dick when he made fun of him. Our boy has become so emotionally mature 😭 (ep 12 doesn't exist, thank you very much)

These bitches get each other in a way no other character does. Even Keeley, as much as the fandom likes to ignore all her flaws and paint her as perfect, had serious communication issues with Roy, where she did not respect his privacy (airing dirty laundry in front of his literal boss and colleagues), and pushed him to talk when it came to something very delicate (the funeral and death in general). And Roy was the one to apologize, which made me very upset (particularly in the first instance).

I honestly can't see something like that happening with Roy and Jamie.

Fingers crossed for a spinoff, but even if it never becomes a canon romantic ship, Roy & Jamie would work extremely well in a Ted & Beard dynamic.

They just belong with each other.

(again, ep 12 where Beard leaves Ted's side and Ted doesn't even attend Beard's wedding doesn't exist ☺)

you're sooo correct. Jamie and Roy innately understand one another <3 Amsterdam is the perfect example of this because Jamie absolutely knows Roy is using him to air out his negative emotions, but Roy also knows Jamie's hyper-positivity is masking something else. They both have the right read on one another there, I think, and they both have the patience to draw the other out until they're ready to talk!

And the scene where they finally open up to one another is just soooo good from start to finish. Like, not only does Roy handle Jamie's tragic backstory reveal perfectly (i cannot say that enough, because god he does a really great job there), but then he finally opens up about what's bothering him, too! And I think because we focus so much on how majorly vulnerable it was of Jamie to tell Roy his red light district story, we don't ever talk enough about how majorly vulnerable Roy let himself be afterwards, too. Like, I think after Jamie dropped something so traumatic, it would have been particularly easy for Roy to have dismissed his own stuff as like, 'well I can't hardly say what's bothering me is just that the ex I broke up with has moved on and it's upsetting me. Not after he just dropped that, can I?' Like, especially given Roy's personality, I think his first instinct there was probably to minimize his own feelings and to dismiss his problems with Keeley as being so trivial and irrelevant compared to Jamie's Real Problems, and then to not talk about it at all and quietly simmer. So it's a true sign of just how much he trusts Jamie (as well as feels bad for using him as his punching bag all day) that he doesn't do any of that but instead properly opens up to him for the first time. And then Jamie realizes how monumental that is right away, and he's not dismissive either!!

Another scene I've been thinking about is the one where Jamie tells Phoebe that Isaac is his best friend and not Roy. Because like, on the one hand it's obviously mostly playful ribbing meant to rile up Roy (because Roy is quite obviously his actual best friend at that point). But I think there's also that underlying understanding from Jamie that Roy struggles with admitting how much he cares and loves people and he struggles to put a name to his feelings, etc. Jamie understands that, and he's okay with that, so I think his joke there is also his way of saying like, it's okay if you can't label this quite yet, whatever's between us - best friends or something else - it's okay if you're not ready for that. It's his way of giving Roy an out if he needs it. (this could also be bogus and me reading too much into everything lmao but like!!! something to consider)

Everything to me <33

#Roy absolutely needed to apologize to Keeley at the funeral though he was definitely being a dick #also i don't think royjamie would be like miraculously devoid of problems because they definitely would have plenty of their own #but i do agree that roy's problems with jamie would look different than the problems he had with keeley #royjamie #ted lasso #asks #roy kent #jamie tartt

[unfriendlyamazon]

restaurant au (wheeler sibs)

rewatching the bear thinking about my au idea where joey inherits his father's restaurant i don't really have things hammered out just yet but i did find some test pieces i wrote exploring joey and serenity's relationship to each other (and their trauma)

read it tell me if you like it might make me feel motivated to write more

Joey pressed his head against the window of Serenity’s car as they crawled through the streets of Domino. The old neighborhood left an unpleasant broiling in his stomach, a nostalgia that soured like milk. It’d been years since he’d been here, even longer for Serenity. The last time she’d seen this place, she’d been driven away in the backseat of a car as the two cried out fitful goodbyes.

Joey had already re-acquainted himself with his childhood stomping grounds. He’d come back the week before to clean out his dad’s rathole apartment and go through the mess of papers and receipts crammed into odd corners and underneath stale pizza boxes. He’d died right outside, too drunk to walk, and he’d tripped on the stairs before bashing his head into the sidewalk. The police had told Joey he’d died on the way to the hospital, saving everyone a lot of time. Joey was still listed as his emergency contact. The thought had burrowed between his lungs, making it hard to breathe. Five years without so much as a phone call, and Joey was still the only person he’d had.

A week of digging through the old man’s life. A week of trash bags and old photos and empty beer cans. A week wondering what he was even doing here. And then he’d found it, stuck into a stack of personal paperwork that had been crammed into a desk drawer so tight it’d barely opened. The address had been a familiar one, and the streets leading up to it even more so. Serenity pulled up to the curb outside and put the car in park. She didn’t turn it off. Her hands stayed on the steering wheel like the Uber driver onto her next gig.

Joey leveled his head to peer out the window. The place had changed enough. The corners had different stores on them, and the billboards were changed. They’d redone the sidewalk outside, and now it was coffee shops and microbrews. The small shop front stuck out like a sore thumb. It had been boarded up for years, so long the cardboard was peeling back, showing corners of the faded wall and dirty countertops inside. It was a restaurant. It had been a restaurant. Years and years and years ago. It’d been theirs.

Serenity didn’t take her hands off the steering wheel. She breathed in and out intentionally.

“It looks pretty bad,” Joey said.

She shook her head with a strained laugh. “I didn’t think it’d look good, Joey.”

He unbuckled his seat belt. “Are you coming inside?”

She looked for the first time. Serenity had been quiet through this whole process. He didn’t ask her to clean the apartment with her, or attend any funeral. She’d been empathetic and sorry since he first called her from New York, but she hadn’t been sad. As far as Serenity was concerned, she didn’t have a father, didn’t have to worry over one, didn’t have to shoulder any trauma from one. But they’d both been here. They’d both reached their little hands over the counter or played in the back office behind the kitchen. There’d been happy memories too. It was the first crack she’d shown on her face, the first tremor in her lips. She stared at the store front like it was a haunted house.

“You don’t have to,” Joey said.

“No,” she said and cut the car off. “No, I said I would.”

“You don’t have to,” he repeated.

“We’re already here, Joey,” she said and opened the car door.

The lights didn’t work inside. Flipping the switches didn’t do a goddamn thing. Joey doubted anyone had paid the electricity bill for years. Even in the dim space, with decades between the last time they’d been inside, Joey knew the way through the kitchen. He followed the line past the prep stations, around where the grill had been, where a sink full of dirty dishwater still sat stagnant. An alcove of lockers sat on one side, and a small door led to the back office. Ancient grease caked the walls and the stainless steel. The front wasn’t much better off. Dust covered everything. The vinyl seats were torn with stuffing eaten out of it. Bugs moved in his wake. Plenty of creatures had probably made their home here. Serenity’s phone cast blue light across the graying walls, leaving stark shadows around her.

“This place is a dump,” she said, scrolling through something on her phone. “I can’t believe it’s still here. You’d think the city would shut it down.”

“I bet he got letters about it.” Joey kicked one of the stools at the service counter. The scraping sound echoed over the tile. Sunlight peeked in through the cardboard on the windows.

“The rent in this neighborhood is crazy now.” She flashed the Zillow listings she was looking through. “Maybe someone would actually buy it.”

“Yeah.” He breathed out, eyes scanning the decay and rot. The dust made the place feel oppressive, and his chest tightened. “I bet someone’s been waiting to snatch it up.”

“I can’t believe it’s still here,” Serenity said again. She glanced up from her phone, and then her eyes went down again.

“It’s a mess,” Joey said and turned back around.

“It always was. You remember when we played here as kids?”

“I remember throwing raw hamburger meat at cars,” Joey said.

She laughed, slapping a hand over her mouth. “We did do that! I totally forgot. No wonder I’m a vegetarian now.”

“And they’d stuff us with fries to keep us quiet.”

“We were little brats.”

They moved back into the kitchen, using the phone light to navigate to the office. Their laughter echoed off the aged equipment. More paperwork was stuffed into more drawers. Joey’d never accuse his old man of being organized. Ledgers were kept with a language all their own.

“Did he ever let you work the line?” Serenity asked.

Joey shook his head as he opened a folder of what looked like overdue bills. Large red letters stared angrily up at him.

“I never worked the restaurant here,” he said.

“But it’s kind of where you got your start.” Serenity glanced at the empty kitchen. “You didn’t go to culinary school for no reason.”

“I didn’t go to sling burgers.” He tossed aside the folder and picked up another one. Names were side by side with numbers. Wages owed, he figured out. He doubted anyone had been receiving regular checks.

“It was really cool to see you in New York,” she said. “The whole meal I kept thinking, my big brother made this. I thought for sure they were gonna turn us away at the door too.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t that fancy.”

“It was pretty fancy! Tristan wore a jacket.”

“He did that to impress you,” Joey said with a grin.

“Nah, he was worried the whole time we weren’t ritzy enough for your new friends.” She smiled fondly at him. “You finally made it to the big leagues.”

Joey was grateful for the shine of her flashlight, that he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. He opened the bottom drawer, and a heavy bottle clunked against the filing cabinet. He pulled it out, and the clear vodka reflected blue light. Half the bottle had been drank. The levity left the room at once, like all the air had been sucked out. Serenity turned her head away. Joey held it fisted in his hand, and for a brief moment he imagined cracking it against the desk so it shattered apart, spilling vodka and glass all over the floor. Instead he set it on the table and stood up from the chair.

“I don’t think there’s anything left here,” he said.

Serenity didn’t say anything, and he felt that weight pushing his lungs apart. He shouldn’t have asked her to come with him, but he didn’t think he could face it alone. The good times hurt worse than the bad sometimes. Happy memories wrapped his head in barbed wire. It wasn’t something he’d ever wanted his baby sister to feel, and yet he’d dragged her through the trenches with him.

And then she said, “Do you think there are any glasses?”

Joey rubbed his eyes. The glare of the phone was getting to him. “I dunno.”

“I know they usually sell this stuff off, but I bet there’s something. Bring the bottle.”

He followed her around as she opened every door and cabinet she could find. Eventually she managed two tupperware containers, rinsed with the water that shuddered out of the faucets. Clean enough for the both of them, they settled at the counter. Serenity sat so her feet rested on the stool, and she poured them each a shot.

“It’s been a fucked up week,” she said.

Joey didn’t respond. She hadn’t been the one digging through literal garbage. Avoiding drinking when working in restaurants was nearly impossible, though he did his best. But it had been a fucked up week, and standing in the wreckage of his childhood, Joey downed the shot in one go. Serenity shot hers back and poured them both another one.

“Did mom say anything?” Joey asked. He’d been dreading the question, but now seemed as good a time as any.

Serenity downed a second shot and squeezed her eyes shut. “Not really. And what’s she supposed to say anyway? ‘Sorry that abusive piece of shit died’?”

“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” Joey said.

“No.” She swished the bottle. “I told her you were in town.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“She was gonna know anyway. I thought maybe she’d call you, or I dunno.”

Joey tossed back the second shot. The burn didn’t do anything to lighten the weight in his chest. “I don’t expect her to do any of that.”

“I just want…” She trailed off, tipping the bottle into her cup again. Joey took the bottle from her and poured some in his. “Do you ever think things could be different? We could be different?”

“Yes,” he said. “Constantly. All the time.”

Her lips quirked up in a smile. “I was so proud of you when you went off to school. Not even ‘cause you thought you wouldn’t go. You found something you loved to do. That’s more than most people.”

“What about you?”

She laughed. “No one loves being an accountant, Joey. I picked a safe job and a safe career.”

“That’s more than most people have,” he said. “It’s not like I love waking up every day not sure where I’m gonna be.”

“But you’re where you’re supposed to be. You’re at this restaurant–”

“I’m not going back to New York,” he said.

Serenity’s mouth snapped shut. She wobbled a little bit as the alcohol hit. He didn’t bother pouring another shot as he tipped the bottle back into his throat.

“But you–” She peered at him like a puzzle she was figuring out. “You’re at a Michelin star restaurant. You’re doing what you love.”

“I don’t love it there,” Joey said. It was the first time he’d explained his reasoning out loud. The words had rattled around in his brain for months, and now he had to put them in order. “You gotta understand what it’s like in the restaurant business, Serenity. Every day you wake up at the crack of dawn and put your heart and soul into something that hates you. Every day is eighteen hour shifts where your chef screams at you and holds you to the fire because you’re not doing something absolutely perfect. Every day is blood and sweat and tears and for what? A restaurant I don’t give a fuck about? It’s not about the food for them. It’s not about feeding people. It’s keeping that fucking star and making sure people know it. You can only tweezer so many sprigs of mint onto an aperitif before you start to feel like an asshole.”

“So what?” she said. “You’re just going to abandon your whole life up there?”

He sunk his head down onto the counter. It smelled like mold and rat shit. “What life? I got nobody there. You’re here. Tristan is here. Everyone there is so fucking full of themselves there’s no room for anybody else. I wake up, I work, and I get just enough sleep to keep myself from going crazy.”

“But you worked for this. You put yourself through school. You made it.”

“Yeah, well.” He closed his eyes. Underneath the grime and grease, he could imagine for a second what this place used to be. “Not everything is what we dreamed.”

She went silent. He didn’t know how long it stretched between them. The vodka burned in his stomach, rising up like acid reflux. He wished for the hundredth time since getting the news about his dad that he could cry about this whole thing. It’d be easier just to be sad and not relieved, and then sad again over the worst chapters of his life closing. Sometimes it was easier just to take the pain of it.

“I thought,” Serenity said slowly, “you were happy, at least.”

“Are you?” he asked.

She grabbed the bottle from him and swigged it. He nodded. It was answer enough.

“I try thinking of the last time I was happy,” Joey said. “Is it fucked up if the answer is here?”

Serenity laughed. “Yes!”

“You remember this place too.”

“We were babies, Joey.” She shook her head. “And it was before shit got really bad. This place is just…”

They looked around at it. Empty, dirty, it felt like a void. But the sunlight peeked through, and it streaked bright light across the dingy ceiling, making it look alive.

“It’s got good bones,” Joey said. “Nice front of house, in a busy area. Someone’ll snatch it up.”

“It’d take an industrial crew to get this place clean,” Serenity said with a sigh.

“Most of the equipment’s sold off too.” He swirled the vodka in its bottle. “But that’s an easy fix. I still know some people around here.”

“They’d probably bulldoze it anyway,” she said. “They’d be paying for the lot.”

“Yeah.” Joey thought as he took another shot. The melancholy was stirred in the gears of his mind as they started to churn. “Yeah. It’d be a shame to see the space go to waste. A little clean up, some new equipment, it’d be a good bistro spot.”

“It doesn’t–” She looked at him. “Joey, it’s not gonna matter. We’re selling it.”

“Why?” he asked. He stood from his chair, spreading his arms out. “People would kill for a spot like this.”

“So let ‘em pay,” she said. “Joey, I think you’re drunk.”

“Probably.” The buzz went straight to his head, but he could see it. Not how it used to be, but how it could be. “Don’t think of it as some shitty burger joint. We could pull out the booths and the seating nice. Those windows are huge, you’d be able to see onto the street. Nice ambiance. Keep the counter seating here, it’d be great for lunch or a bar.”

Serenity laughed. “It’s not happening! This place is a dump, Joey, it always has been.”

“Then back of house,” he barrelled on. “Remodel would be easy, it’s already all emptied out. Efficient work spaces, minimum time between spaces. Windows, people love to see the chefs. And the food–”

“What would be the food?” she asked. “Burgers?”

He shook his head. “Karaage, probably. I used to eat that all the time when I was working. Maybe izakaya style. Friendly, welcoming. Not too full of itself.”

“Japanese, then.” Serenity nodded. “You really want to do a sake bar?”

“No,” he said with a laugh. “I’m just tossing out ideas.”

“Joey, I know you’re spiraling or whatever, but coming back here isn’t really moving forward.” She ran a hand through her hair with a huff. “Maybe you should take some time. You can crash on my couch. Once we sell the place, you’ll have some money to start something else.”

“I just think there’s something here,” he said.

“Fine, okay,” she said. “Let’s say we don’t sell it. How are you gonna get the money to fix it up? Restaurants cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. They take real work. You’re going to have to get new equipment, staff it, pay people, pay vendors.”

“I’ve got connects. I can beg, lie, cheat, and steal. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.” He took his sister’s hands, squeezing tight. “Give me at least a little bit of time. I wanna see what this place can be.”

“You said you were tired of not knowing where you’re gonna be,” she said. “Joey, this is all risk. There’s nothing here that’s worth it.”

“What about you?” he said. “What about me?”

They looked at each other, two kids again, holding on tight. Serenity shook her head and picked up the bottle again.

“The place is yours,” she said. “I don’t want it, and I can live without selling it. I just don’t want you getting caught up in something to torture yourself. It’s okay, you know? You don’t have to be stuck here.”

“What if I wanna be?” Joey asked.

She downed the drink and coughed out a laugh. “Then you got bigger problems than the both of us. But I’m your sister. I love you. I don’t want you doing anything alone.”

He threw his arms around her and squeezed her tight. She laughed again, hugging him back. They rocked back and forth for a minute. The vodka was definitely affecting them. And Joey loved nothing more than to do something stupid.

“Okay,” Serenity said. “I’m done breathing in mold. Can we go to a real restaurant now? I would die for some hot wings.”

“Alright, alright.” He released her. “Let’s go.”

They locked the door behind them and stepped into the sunlight, a little rocky on their feet. Joey knew Serenity would give him a bigger fight when they sobered up, but the idea had wormed its way into his skull. His brain was on fire. He felt the same way he always did when making a life changing decision that should leave him buried in the dirt.

He felt alive.

#many things subject to change #i just want to get into some wheeler sibs!! #and of course the other bit i wrote is kaijou #not really an au of the bear but definitely inspired by it #joey wheeler #jounouchi katsuya #serenity wheeler #shizuka kawaii #au #i have so many au ideas that probably won't ever actually be written out #but i did start doing research for this lol #restaurant au

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Feanor’s Funeral in an Organised Crime AU (1920s England)

He would have hated this, the droning voice of the priest speaking the blessings he’d scoff at, the stifling stench of incense hanging in the air of the even more stifling chapel they’d found, with some difficulty he gathered, it seems few places wished a tombstone carrying such a name on their sacred ground, to lie one such as his brother beside the devout, as if his cold flesh could taint the damp earth about him. As if there was any difference between them now, as if that quiet, motionless thing in that box was still Feanor Curufinwë.

In the end Nerdanel had intervened and arranged the sermon with an old friend of her father’s as a favour, in a remote parish far from London where his name held more weight. She would not be here today, she’d told Anairë so when she was giving them the directions. There were precious few there today, though if desired they could have filled a cathedral with those paying respects to their former boss and condolences to their new one, here he and his siblings with their children slipped into a pew at the back with the only other attendants being his sons and grandson with one or two personal friends of the deceased.

In what could have been years as easily as moments they were beneath a line of yew trees, the sunlight streaking through the branches to cast shadows along the neat rows of stone, the gravediggers had left leaving only the family alone at the grave. The grave of his dead brother. Feanor. It should have been impossible, it had been for how could such a thing happen to one who’s every whim changed the course of so many lives, who seemed the sun with all other’s merely stuck in his orbit.

And somehow he was now just gone. He would never know if one day he could have made him care for him, if Feanor would always have hated him regardless of what he did or if he’d missed his chance to finally get what he’d craved from his childhood.

‘You have some nerve showing up here,’ Curufin glowered while striding towards him, almost as if rearing for a fight, handing his child off to Maglor with little ceremony. Maglor thrusted Celebrimbor at Caranthir before hurrying after him. A good de escalation tactic certainly, if Curufin was rearing for a fight chances are Caranthir was also, best to preemptively restrict his involvement.

‘Did you expect me to not turn up for my brother’s funeral?’ he spoke neutrally, not wishing to provoke his nephew.

‘He’s dead because of you. If you hadn’t decided you knew better than him and led that split we would have had many times the manpower we had that day, it’s your fucking fault, you have no right, no right!’ Curufin stalked right up to his face, voice raised and Maglor had to move to grip his wrist back. No matter where this went none wanted to come to blows over Feanor’s grave.

‘Do I not have a right to grieve my own family? My brother just died and you’re acting like I’m making a move on your territory.’ He began to feel that cold firm anger but restrained it in a way none of his family could evidently, keeping his tone measured but not particularly well masked.

Caranthir cut in while still rocking his nephew soothingly to his chest ‘Half brother. You have another and two sisters still who care far more for your company. A mother willing to comfort you through your mourning. We will never have another father.’

Curufin looked ready to speak again but Maedhros stilled him with a hand settled on his shoulder and his slow and weary voice. ‘Fingolfin, I think it would be best if you left.’

He opened his mouth to speak again, to reprimand his nephew for taking the side of one so obviously filled with spite when Fingon appeared at his side and whispered in his ear.

‘It’s not worth it father. You should let them mourn, come back tomorrow.’ Fingon’s resigned gaze never left Maedhros as he spoke.

Finarfin however took his other arm before he could think of a response and gently but firmly guided him away. ‘Give them their privacy. They’re still young and they just lost their father after all,’ his brother had a sometimes infuriating tendency to always sound reasonable even when proposing that they were somehow intruding by being at the grave of the man who, despite recent events, had been their family as much as anyone’s.

He’d just opened his mouth to reprimand his siblings for just giving up on seeing off their own flesh and blood and suggest that he was in the wrong when Findis spoke sharply, the tone eerily like their mother’s (who perhaps unsurprisingly had not accompanied them) making it clear that this was one of the rare occasions in which she wished to remind them that the position of most senior member of this family did not in fact rest with Fingolfin as it did in matters of business.

‘Oh for goodness sake Nolofinwë, how can you ignore so plainly what is in front of you? This is not some play for power, I’m sure few of them genuinely blame you for his passing, it’s not about you and everyone else knows it! They mean to weep. Why do you think they did not make an event out of this, invite the entire gang of them, they want to be able to sob over the grave of their father without it being attached to business. And you, though once you were family, are now simply business to them. And they do not want you to see them cry. So just- leave the children be.’

The children. At the end of the day that was what they would always be wasn’t it? No matter how much blood was on their hands, how many trembled and cursed as the entered a room. He remembered his son’s face, splattered with blood that was neither his own nor that of the lowest of the low that on occasion stained Fingolfin’s own hands. The blood of mostly innocents, who dared to stand in the way of his brother in his rampage of grief. Yet he’d kissed that same forehead the next day, as Fingon mourned the loss of himself and those he’d slaughtered hopefully more than that of his….. friendship with Feanor’s son but it was hard to be sure what made him shake so.

He could have been filled with disgust, would have been at any other most likely, yet he’d wiped that repulsive blood off his son’s skin with a damp cloth ever so gently while he was in too much shock to do so himself. So Anaire didn’t see him like that because he knew that she would never be able to see him another way again if she had (she’d been told of course but she hadn’t seen).

While this was certainly not true for his nephews it also wasn’t something to be dismissed that when he saw Maedhros he couldn’t help but be reminded of the child that had practically glowed at being able to chat away at someone for hours about his favourite novels (always ridiculously precocious choices of course, he was still Maedhros). He’d ruffled up their hair, slipped them sweets, some of them had helped Anaire in the kitchen at dinners or with the little ones.

He remembered thinking that Maedhros was the most trustworthy person to hand a crying baby to, a man who had merely weeks later gained a reputation of brutality that spread throughout the city, leaving graveyards in his wake. Yet he still felt pity when he saw him helplessly put his arm around his not yet grown brothers in a desperate attempt to shield them from their grief when it should have been a parent doing so.

When he himself should have been comforted through such a bereavement at the young age of twenty four, who in regular circumstances would simply be starting out his career not already holding most of the wealth and power of the city in the palm of his solitary hand. He would not be in any role other than that of the protector, always in control, even after he retired for the night, no doubt to the house his father had purchased only months earlier for them to build a home in and attempt to fill the void Finwe and Nerdanel had left.

He snapped out of his shock when he saw Curufin slump against Celegorm with the unmistakable shaking shoulders; he turned sharply away in shame and the gate creaked as he left his brother once again.

#silmarillion #tolkien #maedhros #caranthir #Fingolfin #mafia au #historical au #Curufin #feanor #fingon #finarfin #findis #celebrimbor

[archduchessofnowhere]

i just want one ONE adaptation where sisi wears her iconic mourning gown, is it too much to ask for?!?!?

Hi! I think you mean this one right?

I agree, I can't believe it hasn't made it to any adaptation yet. I'd love to see what it looks like in action! In fact, I'd love if any of these adaptations showed the "mourning culture" that existed at the Habsburg court, because I personally find it fascinating and it would show one of the ways life at court could be restrictive.

I've seen people commenting on how this somewhat creepy (but fabulous, imo) dress is a result of Elisabeth's personal "eccentric" tastes, and that is just not true. This was a conventional mourning dress. The reason why so many of the empress' dresses that survived are black is because there was a mandatory mourning period at court every time a relative died. And the Habsburg family was HUGE, so they were constantly in and out of mourning (just in 1867 at least five relatives died). The mourning period depended on the rank and proximity of the deceased person, but in cases of "deep grief" it lasted three months in which women could only wear black, with no accessories, and had to be fully veiled in public. You can see this dressing code at Franz Josef's funeral, which Empress Zita attended fully veiled in black:

Unsurprisingly, some people at court found this strict dressing code bothersome, especially when they were in mourning for a distant relative they barely knew. The British governess of Archduchess Erzsi, Rudolf's daughter, complained about this to a friend in a letter dated May 10, 1897, when they had to do mourning for Elisabeth's sister Sophie Charlotte:

Three weeks quite black, and three weeks black and grey, for the Duchess of Alençon. Is it not trying just as one has got one's summer things? I always make up my mind to buy no more coloured clothes, but hats and bonnets — one cannot be always in black.

And not just the governess, Erzsi herself was unhappy to wear hot mourning clothing during summer for a great-aunt she had little if no contact at all:

We had, a few days after our arrival [at Laxemburg], the questionable pleasure of a visit from the Archduke Louis Victor, the youngest brother of the Emperor. He was a confirmed gossip and repeated everything he saw and heard to the Emperor. In this instance we were particularly annoyed, as the weather being so hot and the Archduchess hating her mourning for the Duchess d'Alençon, we had allowed her to put it off when just amongst ourselves. But the Archduke would spare no one who offended, not even a little fatherless girl, were she to violate the least particle of the strict Austrian etiquette.

There wasn't a way around the mourning dressing code, as Erzsi discovered: you just had to do it, no matter the heat, or if you even knew the deceased person.

#sorry for the ramble! i just wish the mourning etiquette was shown more in the adaptations #instead of the nonsensical ''the empress can only wear a pair of shoes once'' #empress elisabeth of austria #archduchess elisabeth marie of austria #empress zita of austria #house of habsburg #fashion #asks

[zhongrin]

Rin rin, I got this idea when thinking of some imagines. So how about this?

You die.

Yes, you died.

And who is arranging your funeral? Well, of course, it's none other than the Wangsheng funeral parlor consultant, a.k.a your husband, Zhongli. The funeral hall is impeccable, Zhongli spared no expense when it comes to his spouse's funeral. Hu Tao is nothing but solemn as she tended to the funeral procession. Rare and exotic flowers from every corner of Teyvat, fragrant candles, expensive incense, and a beautifully crafted casket where your body was laid.

Zhongli already spent half of his fortune, his hard-earned mora, just to fund your funeral. He would have spent more, if not all, but Hu Tao stopped him from doing so. According to Liyuean custom, an elder should never show respect to someone younger, and since you died young, Zhongli would be lying if he said he was not hurt by the fact that you have to be buried in silence.

As the consultant gazed upon your body, he would've thought you were merely sleeping if not for the casket, Zhongli, your husband, the love of your life, the one you swore to spend an entire lifetime with, couldn't take his eyes away from his wife. Though in some cases, he would've broken a taboo about touching a dead person's body, but he doesn't care, this was his spouse we're talking about. And the funeral attendees couldn't help but feel pity at the sight of a husband losing his beloved wife.

"My dear, are you at peace up there in the heavens?" He whispered, using the back of his fingers to caress your pale cheeks.

"You have loved me until the end of your life," Zhongli grasped one of your folded hands, not minding the flowers faltering in your hold, placing a heartbroken kiss on the back of your hand, "Allow me to fulfill my end of the contract. I shall love you until my life perished."

The funeral attendants have finally left one by one until only a few stayed, including Zhongli and Hu Tao, the funeral director. Both of them had a silent conversation, Hu Tao knew that her employee wished to be the last to leave to pay respects, at least that is what Zhongli showed on the surface. The truth is, he doesn't want to leave, he wants to embrace you for as long as he could before you would be taken away from him. But, he can't. As much as painful that is, Zhongli has to accept reality.

...what's this? Did your hand just twitched? Oh!? Was that the colors returning to your once pale visage? No, that was just his imaginations. His mind playing tricks on him since he couldn't soothe his broken heart. Perhaps, the erosion will too eradicate his immortal soul so he could be reunited with you in the next world--

...wait, was that a scream? Why are the attendees screaming? Ah, so that's why.

You woke up.

It feels like you were having a long, long slumber. Your body may be tired but you still mustered the strength to rise and sit on the-- wait, why are you sitting inside a casket? That's not important, right now. What's more important is the first thing that you saw is the face of your husband-- oh wait, he looks mortified... and were those tears in his eyes?

"Lǎogōng, why are you crying?" Gently, you asked, wiping his tears with the sleeve of your burial robes, made from silk and the finest fabrics. Thank the archons more than half of the people left, if not, they would've seen the respectable gentleman known as Zhongli collapsing to his knees, half-wailing as he embraced you, thanking whatever higher being that brought you back from the dead that's a story for another day. Poor him, the staved off grief he felt because of your supposed death came pouring out at last. Even Hu Tao was speechless

But what came next out of your mouth was, "Alright, who's paying for my funeral?"

Hu Tao's face turned pale.

---

"So, technically, I am alive, right? I'm not dead, so can I get a refund?"

"No." Hu Tao deadpanned.

"A discount, maybe?"

"NO!"

Yeah, Zhongli tried to convince you to let it go since he already paid Hu Tao a whole ass mora for your funeral, but you decided to bitch about it because YOUR HUSBAND'S SPENDING IS OUT OF CONTROL, he wasted half of ya'll savings, Childe got dragged into it too.

Childe: Say sike right now

And no, Hu Tao isn't going to let go a big chunk of this month's income. Zhongli paid fair and square. Besides, that money is going back to him anyways some of it, maybe? in the form of his monthly wage.

Zhongli's lucky that you love him, he got away with only a bonk on his head

But, he couldn't help but smile. He doesn't regret spending the mora one bit. In fact, it's a bargain, he thought. Your life for half the price of his savings? It's free real estate /j 🤭

Just don't be surprised if half of Liyue Harbour pissed their pants when they saw your dead ass sliding down the neighborhood.

I'm sorry I tricked you to reading angst when it's actually crackhead content

For anyone asking how you came back to life... go figure, ehe~♡

HELLO????? NOHR?????? I NEED YOUR WRITING BLOG STAT OH MY GOD???? *grabby hands* URL PLEASE 🤲🏻

oh no zhongli’s silent grief and immense love in this are making me tear up… my bby. my beloved. my love. my darling. wo de xiang gong. wahhhhhhskdjsldjlsd

coincidentally, i am writing two others ‘reader is dead’ fics… is this some kind of a sign….. 👀

i just want to say 1) sorry for hoarding this ask i just needed to reread it like a hundred times before releasing this to the world, and 2) thank you for sending this in because i’ve been in a writing rut recently, but this made me write a little something! i hope you win all your 50/50s, your wanted character comes home at you within 10 pulls, and your genshin f/o visits you in your dream. take care, and don’t forget to drink water, eat your meals, and take breaks!!!

also i hope you like the little something i wrote in relation to this delicious delectable masterpiece <3

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: nohrenvia #hu tao pls even just a 10% discount will do cmon help yo home girl out- #sister am i not a vvip of your parlor can't you just do me a favor just this once-

[theblogtini]

I agree with your take on her comments as well. I think its why I'm so interested in the reaction thus far to his book. She's been so so quiet, much more than she has during really any other important time frame since she's been married. So to me, it begs the question, was it planned or is it a reaction to the reaction? Looking back, i think its fair to say that the leaks about pushing things back are her not necessarily him. (I don't think he was unaware of the leaks happening, but based on his book I think he justified it in his head as tit for tat with his family) I also think Harry was fully committed to this where as meghan saw the signs that things may not go to plan. So if meghan did "wake up" after the queen passed does she think that the queen gave them the most protection? and now that Charles was in charge it would be much harder for things to go back? Were those leaks trying to gain sympathy for harry before he blew it up? (she must have read the book and watched the show). I'm not yet at the divorce theory simply because i think the latest round of "leaks" is her reaction to THE reaction. Meaning she didn't anticipate even this level of kick back and running jokes. It also doesn't seem as though harry really cares about the coronation in the same way meghan does. Charles put out their publicly that harry won't have the same role as meghan, that had to have pissed off harry. So why go?

Honestly, I think she realized they messed up back in June during the Jubilee. They were relegated to watching everything from a window. The entire family attended the concert together and they were nowhere to be found. And during the jubilee (as with any big royal moment) the popularity of the entire family was soaring WITHOUT the Sussexes.

Meghan had been looking at the rankings since she entered the family as "look, everyone loves ME, I'm the one keeping them afloat" and when she realized that not only did she have no positive impact on it, but that it was doing better without her AND that her personal rankings were plummeting on both sides of the pond I think she realized how badly she had miscalculated.

I also genuinely believe that part of the silence and the backtracking is that they have no deals coming in. Without more deals to sign they're going to eventually run out of money... she NEVER anticipated that. I'm pretty sure that she thought that no matter what happened they'd at least have speaking engagements that they could charge millions of dollars for to fall back on - but that never happened. I think the biggest one they signed was for $400k and it was right at the VERY beginning.

They thought that they would be absolutely fine without the royal family - better off without it, even - and at the time of the Jubilee they (or at least she) realized that unless they can get back in the family's good graces they are fucked.

And she knew that with the docuseries and book coming up there was NO WAY they'd be back in their good graces. That's why she started backtracking with The Cut interview and then the "year of reconciliation" leaks. Those came from Scobie which means we could all bet good money that it was DIRECTLY from Meghan. And that's why Harry kept saying in his interviews (even though its sounded FUCKING ABSURD due to the content of the book) that he wanted to reconcile with his family, that he loved them, that he had no intention of hurting them... he was basically publicly apologizing and asking them to take him back without straight up saying "I'm sorry, please take us back" on international TV.

The silence now isn't a reaction to the book reaction - it's a reaction to the jubilee, to the funeral, to the docuseries, and to the book. Silence is the ONLY recourse she has right now because saying or doing anything (barring an outright public apology) is going to dig them further into a hole and they literally, financially, probably can't afford that.

[purrpickle]

I ramble in this, a lot, but hear me out: I've seen a few people surprised at Ava's reaction to coming back and finding Mother Superion deceased, but think about it - this is the first time Ava's seen someone she knows (and cares for) dead, instead of being 'gone'.

Her mother - Ava was told she was dead when she woke up after the accident. Just told, never shown proof nor able to attend a funeral of any kind. I'm sure she ached for ages that it was all a mistake and her mother would come back and take her away from the orphanage if she waited long enough.

Lilith - Ava saw her impaled, of course, but didn't actually see her die as she was pulled into the other dimension while still breathing. No body, nothing physical to force her to come to terms with Lilith sacrificing herself for her. It probably didn't help that Lilith ended up coming back, either.

Mary - Lilith pulled them away while Mary was still fighting, before it happened. And Ava held out hope for months, wanting her to be alive, just missing. Then, again, just like her mother, there was nothing concrete or real to show her when she was told she was lost. Mary was just gone.

(Child) Michael - Ava saw him when she went to ARQ-Tech, firstly through a window and then at least once in person, and obviously she heard of his disappearance through the Arc afterwards. It wouldn't be hard to extrapolate that the little boy she'd tried to rescue upon seeing was dead, just like Lilith had been. Out of sight, but I bet you not out of Ava's mind.

Even Shannon - Ava met her as somewhat a ghost of a memory, but was deceased herself when she actually died. Though it probably wouldn't have registered at the time to see her pass, and though Ava carries the proof of her dying (both literally and figuratively), she's still only aware it happened after she was gone and away.

(This is not to also go into the times where Ava lost people from her life emotionally, if not by death, also not in front of her eyes, like JC and Father Vincent, but it does bear mentioning.)

My point is, of course Ava has seen dead bodies by now, and even caused a few herself (Sister Francis, for example), but this was the first time she actually saw the body of someone she knew.

Think about it. Mother Superion was the first person who Ava loved actually dead in front of her. She wasn't just being told about her death and forced to accept it.

Mother Superion was many things to Ava - someone she wanted, needed, in her life, someone who she had grown to look up to and value, someone to depend on who fought for her and at her side and filled a hole Sister Francis never could/would/should after losing her mother, and so much more - and that shock, the actual physical evidence of seeing her body after many she hadn't... I'm not surprised at all how Ava responded.

This was her first truly tangible loss. The first time she was forced to not have any hope. Not to mention, Ava knew death, where it (didn't) lead to, and she hadn't even been there for Mother Superion to help her through it, either. So, Ava finally coming into the room, exhausted after her fight with Lilith and not expecting it at all until she registers Beatrice bent over Mother Superion's body... Seeing it, with someone so important to her, Ava was lost and blindsided and broken.

Ava reverted to being a child getting to curl into her mother figure in death as she never got to do with her own mother, or anyone else.

And it made me cry.

#warrior nun #ava silva #mother superion #warrior nun spoilers #oh i just deep dived #with a lot of seeing going on #but oh well #hope i got my point across #*sobs* #*realized and corrected that it was her mother killed in the crash #and not her parents #boo #what i get for not watching the first season in a while

[sunflowersoldat]

All is Fair ~ Deuce

Chapter 28: Deuce

Previous Chapter

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under pressure?

Series Warnings: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Emotional trauma. Bad language words.

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: approx. 2.2K

A/N: Um hi! It has been a while, but I think I am finally ready for this story to come to its end. It will have two drabbles that take place after this chapter planned then it will finally be over. It's been a really long journey, and I love this series, it has been bittersweet to write these last few parts. I digress, I hope you enjoy this chapter and have enjoyed the series!

It had been months, the city was still recovering. Thor’s funeral had been a city-wide event, no one knew what he’d actually done. The newspapers blamed the myth of the Ace of Spades. They had a damn statue made in Thor’s honor, for god's sake. Steve couldn’t stand the sight of it, it made his stomach churn to even think about it.

This whole city hates the one person who’d saved them all.

Tony’s funeral was more intimate, not only were they mourning Tony, but Pepper and the rest of the family still thought you were dead. They would never know the truth, you would never get to see your niece grow up, to have the chance at a future you’d always wanted.

Now as he made his way to Zemo’s office, his heart squeezed in his chest, the last time he was here, walking these halls, you were standing by his side. The spot next to him remained silent and cold, the casino floor was already full of people. 

Women tried to pull his attention, to stop him with their manicured claws and pouty lips; they weren’t you. He didn’t give them a thought or a second glance as he pushed his way to Zemo’s office.

The man was standing in front of his window, hands clasped behind his back as he stared out at the city below his feet. 

Steve closed the door softly, but the resounding click thundered through him. Zemo didn’t turn as he spoke, 

“You look like shit, Rogers.”

Steve didn’t have it in him to smile or bite back, his brows only rose as he took a seat in the plush red chair in front of Zemo’s desk. His eyes were heavy, it had been months since he’d had a good night's rest. Blinking slowly as Zemo turned to finally look at him, the man's face full of empathy, he’d understood what it was like to have his whole world taken from him. To know his family was alive somewhere he couldn't reach and now Steve knew his pain, not a single whisper from you, for all he knew you could be dead somewhere. When they’d found Thor in Loki’s mansion, the blood had been yours too, there was no telling if you'd bled out somewhere or if you'd made it to freedom.

Steve guessed his thoughts could be read on his face because Zemo sighed, his face becoming solemn, “Get out of New York Steve. Go see the world…”

Steve only shook his head, everyone seemed to think it was you not being in New York that bothered him, but it didn’t matter, nowhere would be enough if you weren't by his side. He could be miserable here or in a palace in France, miserable was miserable.

Zemo had walked closer to stand between Steve and his desk, a small envelope in his hands, “Fine if you won't do it for your own well being, do it as a favor to me.”

He dropped the envelope onto Steve’s lap, “I need you to attend an event in my stead, obviously I am too indisposed here to leave. Yelena still requires my assistance taking over Thor’s territories, Pepper will need an ally trying to keep the streets clean…” he trailed off as Steve’s hand closed around the envelope.

“Where?” The only words that Steve could muster from his soul. If he could throw himself into work, maybe he could relax.

Zemo’s brows rose, “London. A contact with a few friends in the southern hemisphere will be there.”

Steve opened the envelope slowly, pulling out two tickets to a Gala. “Who is the second ticket for?” Steve grimmaced when he realized he would need to be dressed to the nines for the event, but the sooner he could go there and get it over with the sooner he could come home and be left the hell alone.

“Take a friend with you. I’m sure there are plenty of women out on the casino floor willing—”

Steve nearly retched at the thought, nearly snarled as he looked back to the man before him, “Barnes is plenty of company.” The words were clipped, harsh, Steve didn’t care if the man noted the disrespect and venom laced in his words.

If the man cared, he didn’t react, Zemo only shrugged, “Better than going alone…” he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I’ll see you in a few days Steve.”

Rising from his seat, Steve nodded, but his thoughts were already far from here, the walk back to his vehicle where Bucky waited was merely a dream.

—

The glittering lights and chaos of too many conversations happening at once mingling with the classical music, stroked his impending headache. 

It had been a long while since he made an appearance at a gala, well, the last one had been at your museum. The second time you had met, memories of that night flooded his vision. The way you’d fallen apart on your desk for him, that was the beginning, he’d realized too late; the first step into the dangerous game.

Beside him Bucky nudged his arm with his elbow, motioning to a man on the second floor balcony. His falcon mask glittering in the lights, Zemo’s contact for the evening that he and Bucky were to meet with.

—

Bucky was still trying to understand how Zemo had convinced Steve to leave New York, let alone coming to a high profile event in London. He watched Steve’s every move, the man hadn’t been himself for a very long time and his trust in Bucky hadn’t exactly been healed. Bucky thought it must have meant something since he had chosen him to join Steve at this event, but the man hardly spoke a word to Bucky. 

He had to remind himself that Steve had hardly said anything to anyone since you disappeared, but every day that passed caused Bucky more worry. He couldn’t fathom losing Steve, even if the man had forgiven him, Bucky hadn’t forgiven himself, and Steve thought that was punishment enough. He thought about you all the time, how despite what he’d done to you, you still risked your neck to save them, to save him. He didn’t flatter himself with the thought, you hadn’t done it because you liked him, no, you had saved him and spared him for Steve. 

He thought about the poker game that day in the mansion, the genuineness of your smile. He knew all that time deep down, when he hated you, tortured you, attempted to kill you, something inside him tried to shake him from his darkness. If you had genuinely wanted them dead, they would have been, long before they ever realized who and what you were. It was too little too late now, he wished he could tell you though, apologize, even if the apology would mean nothing, you deserved to hear it.

As they neared the contact he turned to meet them, his curly brown hair caressing the edges of his mask, “Mr. Rogers? Mr. Barnes?”

The english accent pulled at the string of familiarity in Bucky’s mind, but he needn’t rack his brain, the man removed his mask, a wide smile splitting his lips; Steven Grant?

Both Steve and Bucky had decided not to wear masks, they hadn’t thought they would be recognized so far from home, and didn't expect to see a familiar face.

Steven shook both men’s hands, his gaze falling behind them, smile faltering, “Where is Ms. Carbonell?”

Bucky’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t get the chance to reply, Steven’s body went rigid, eyes glazing over, before blinking furiously, like he was trying to see clearly. The voice that followed was one Bucky had heard plenty of times, it wasn’t directed to him, but to Steve.

“Rogers. Excuse Steven, he doesn’t know…” 

His voice sent a shiver down Bucky’s spine. Jake Lockely was a force to be reckoned with, one Bucky had hoped he wouldn’t hear in a dark alley, but he spoke to Steve in a soft hushed tone, one full of…understanding?

Steve didn’t reply so Jake continued, “I knew he had sent the invitation, but I never thought anyone would attend, since…” A shadow passed over Jake’s eyes, but was gone in the next blink, “Zemo does have a contact here, you should meet with her at the bar, she knows to look for you now. She would be a helpful ally to have,” Jake grimaced, fighting something internally. “She will be the only other person dressed as an Egyptian deity, but be careful, she is as dangerous as she is beautiful.” he grunted again, “Now go before Steven returns, best not to raise questions you can not answer.”

Steve shuddered next to Bucky, he hadn’t noticed the man’s breathing quicken, “Jake?”

The two mens’ gazes locked, but Lockley shook his head solemnly, before turning from them and stalking away, his phone in hand, then back in his pocket before going ridgid again.

—

Steve hadn’t been prepared to see Steven here and wasn't expecting to speak to Jake. No matter that he knew the man had the identity disorder, but it didn’t get easier each time he watched him switch. He hated the bubble of hope that swelled in his chest when he heard Jake's voice, didn’t like the way his insides soured when he admitted he hadn’t seen or spoken to you either. Hope was a dangerous thing, no amount of torture or pain would ever amount to what hope could do.

“I’ll never get used to that, pal.” 

On the barstool beside him, Bucky shuddered, taking a swig of the beer he had ordered. Steve only shook his head in reply, signaling for the bartender to bring him a drink. 

“What I don’t understand is why Zemo had that invitation and tickets, if they were meant for Ace–”

“Is this seat taken?” 

Both men turn their gazes to the female now on the other side of Bucky, a beautiful redhead with a black lace mask. Bucky shook his head, sparing a glance at Steve. Steve chuckled, “We’ll wait for the contact, maybe she’ll have answers. In the meantime,” he nodded to the redhead, “Have fun, Buck.”

A wide smile curved his friend’s lips before he turned away, chatting with the girl. Their laughter squeezed something in his chest, but a sense of relief washed over him. 

Steve had started on his second drink when a second redheaded female sauntered over to Bucky joining in their conversation, she stole glances at Steve, but he ignored her. His attention ripped from the trio behind him when a female wearing the mask of a jackal split the crowd. Hair like molten gold, her black silk dress hugged every curve, but covered her completely. The black and gold mask hiding all but her eyes, the gold and black contacts keeping her identity hidden. 

Steve wasn’t big on Egyptian culture, but he knew the god Anubis when he saw him, well in this case her. She didn’t speak to him, but turned toward the exit, he rose from his seat to follow. He didn’t speak to Bucky, Zemo wouldn’t send him here to die and if he had, at this point Steve would welcome it.

—

Bucky had been chatting with the two women for some time, Dot and Gail were a much needed reprieve from the past year. His fun with them was cut short when a powerful woman approached him through the crowd, the gold detailing of her mask standing out against her umber skin. Her rich accent cutting off the giggles of both the women beside him, 

“Mr. Barnes, I am ‘Bast’. I believe we have a mutual friend.” She motioned upstairs towards Jake, now Steven who was chatting with a group of investors and philanthropists. 

Bucky straightened, her words sobering him almost immediately. With a wave of her hand Dot and Gail melted back into the crowd. She lifted her head in Steve’s direction, “Seems he won't be joining us…”

Bucky whirled around to see the seat where Steve once sat, completely empty, the ice in his drink melted, leaving the napkin beneath drenched. Panic gripped him as he scanned the crowd, the woman code named Bast, stepped around him plucking a small piece of paper from Steve’s stool.

Not paper.

The familiar matte black rectangle was a playing card.

He couldn’t stop the laugh that shoved its way from his throat as he took the card from Bast. Relief and… joy bloomed in his chest, a smile splitting his lips as he looked back at her, “No. I guess he won't be.”

The message was for him, one only he would understand, still smiling he followed Bast to their meeting, pocketing the card. 

The matte card didn't have the ace he had expected in its center, but a golden jester, the words James Barnes in gold foil written in two diagonal corners. 

The wild card.

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you @buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog @austynparksandpizza @capson-of-coul @betareader7 @vicmc624 @bigphattygyal @calwitch @buckysteveloki-me @curlyladylazarus111 @talesofadragon @trudy-shams

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel au #marvel #bucky #avengers #steve and bucky #captain america #all is fair in... #all is fair au #mafia!steve rogers #mob! steve rogers #mafia au #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #nomad steve #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x y/n #mafia!bucky #assassin reader #assassin!reader #avengers au #marvel fanfiction #steve x reader #captain rogers #captain america x reader #mafia!steve #fem reader