#he lived he served then he died 🫡 then he lived again

[seefasters]

there's this joke about phoenix having a reputation of an incredible lawyer despite only being one for 3 years but like. guy literally solved a 15 year old murder on the last day it could possibly be solved with only two pieces of evidence remaining. even if we don't count his insane win streak that alone should have earned him the reputation of a fucking genius

[kitkatscabinet]

Step into my parlour, said the spider

Stepbro! Simon x reader

Warnings: this one’s kind of deranged. Simon is a fucked up little freak. I mean it when I say this is dark, read with discretion. Implications of murder, and non-con

Word count: 1.5k

Once again 141 server bringing out the worst in me, @chxrryghost @cooliofango see you guys in hell 🫡

Before you, life was a series of dull greys and monochromes, there was no warmth, just cold never-ending darkness that persisted in the form of his father's abuse. That didn’t matter now though, because nothing before you mattered.

Simon is nine years old when the angel (you) starts to live with them, he’s got no clue how his deadbeat of a father managed to finagle another woman into marrying him but he pays little mind to his new step-mum when he has you. 

You’re five years older than him, but you’re not like Tommy or dad at all. You’re kind and you tuck him into bed and give him cuddles and kisses that make him feel all fuzzy inside. You take him to the park and protect him from his dad. You try to hide the dark bruises that litter your skin, a consequence of shielding him, but Simon’s not so naive. 

He grows up hiding in your shadow, falling deeper and deeper into an obsessively deranged love for his saviour, the only person who loves him and treats him kindly. He seethes silently, waiting for the moment he’s big enough to protect you instead. 

By the time you’re sixteen, your mother has split, leaving you behind though you reassure Simon that you’d never have left him anyway. His father’s been out of a job for a while and you’ve been running yourself ragged to support Simon and Tommy. Tommy the bastard that he is doesn't appreciate the work you do and Simon is once again forced to grit his teeth and seethe as he watches you come home every evening like a zombie. Some mornings you don’t even make it to the bed to fall asleep, though Simon’s always waiting, dragging you under the covers before burrowing his way into your side. 

You let yourself get degraded by filthy men that slap your ass and call you names just for a measly tip. You’re one of the prettiest people on the planet which, unfortunately, attracts a lot of attention from the disgusting dregs of society. Boys your age and older, far too old to even consider glancing your way. The few brave enough to hover are always quickly scared off by Simon’s intense glares, and he preens when you pat his hair in thanks.

His dad notices too and Simon comes home from school one afternoon to find the man on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck as you struggle beneath him. A plate shatters over his dad's head and it’s not until Simon is on the floor and his old man is red in face, screaming at him that Simon realises what he’s done. 

You’re screaming and you shove his dad from behind, scooping Simon into your arms with adrenaline-fuelled strength you wouldn’t normally possess and are locking you and him in your shared room. Barricading the door and squishing Simon against you as your breath rattles. 

You fall asleep with Simon nestled against your chest, none the wiser to how his blood chants with the fervour of a thousand men, mine, mine, mine.

The universe finally seems to give you a break after that, his dad leaves the both of you alone and not long after your 18th birthday you get a cushy, well-paying job as a secretary for some hot-shot lawyer. Though Simon gets a little upset when you spend all your money on him, new clothes, new books for school, a GameBoy, whatever he wants. 

Best of all, his dad dies. The alcohol and drugs finally taking their toll on his body. (It’s not until a few years later that he’ll realise you were entirely too calm when the police came knocking. Serving them tea as you pretended to be shocked about the news.)

You get custody of him and Tommy and you move them into a much nicer neighbourhood. Though Simon’s not happy at having his own room and often sneaks back into your bed, knowing that you’ll simply sigh and open your arms for him, letting him snuggle against your chest. 

Simon should’ve known better, should’ve known that his happiness wouldn’t last. It’s not even a year into what you called the start of his new life that he comes home one afternoon from school to find you sobbing into your hands, hair and outfit dishevelled. Though you refuse to give him the details of what happened he manages to put two and two together from the state of your being and the knowledge that you’ve been fired. 

You take up waitressing again but it’s not enough. He’s not sure who ends up reporting it but a few days before his 14th birthday Simon gets taken away from you, no matter how much he kicks and screams. He tries to run away a few times but he’s always found and dragged away from you again. 

You move away not long after, having been offered a once-in-a-lifetime scholarship. Simon tries to understand as you explain through tears, kissing his forehead for the last time. He knows it’s selfish of him to feel betrayed but he can’t help it. Can’t accept that you’re leaving him. He doesn’t cry, instead, he immediately starts plotting. This is just a minor bump in the road, he’ll spend every waking moment until he’s eighteen perfecting his skills and plans and then nothing will keep you apart ever again. 

Time passes by excruciatingly slow, the only positive is that he’d finally grown even further, and had sprouted in height and musculature so much that he fears you might not recognise him. It takes him another extra year to find you, but when he’s twenty-three, with military resources at his disposal he finally, finally sees you again in person. 

You’re still the picture of perfection, clothes hugging your form so tantalisingly that Simon feels his cock throb in the confines of his pants just from seeing you. He steps forward, weaving through the crowd of the market only to stop in his tracks when a man wraps his arms around your midsection. Instead of rebuffing the touch you lean back and smile against him and Simon feels as if the Earth has been pulled from his feet. 

How could you do this to him?

He’s waited so faithfully for you all these years and you’ve replaced him? He watches as you kiss the interloper with a smile and Simon clenches his fists in fury so harshly his palms bleed. How many men had you let into your bed? How long did it take for you to forget him?

The plan’s changed. You’ve forced him into this. It’s not his fault that he’s had to plant cameras throughout your house. It’s not his fault that you’re so tantalising it forces him to break into your house, stealing your used panties to help get himself off. It’s not his fault you force him to learn you and your boyfriend’s schedule and it’s not his fault your scumbag partner doesn’t take his carefully worded hint to leave you. 

Your boyfriend is dead. Unfortunate, but needs must. Simon watches you sob into your pillow, hard as a rock as he imagines licking the tears from your cheeks and decides he can’t wait any longer. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t even notice Simon is in your house, you don’t notice until he swings the bedroom door open and you look up with a scream. He supposes he must make something of a terrifying sight, he’s a large man, and his face is covered by his trademark skull balaclava.

Simon allows you a few seconds to scramble around in panic before he crosses the distance, trapping your back to his chest and groaning as he humps into your ass. You scream, hitting at his arms as the tears start to flow anew and Simon throws you down on the mattress, weighing you down with his bulk. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this” you beg with teary eyes that do nothing but fuel his arousal. He does take pity on you though, restraining your wrists with his right hand and using his left to tug off his mask. He watches as your eyes gradually widen, elation filling his chest as recognition fills them. 

“Simon?” your voice wobbles and his name has never sounded better. Groaning, he rests his forehead against your collarbone, taking calming breaths to stop from cumming then and there. It’s okay though, he’s got all the time in the world now. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together, you’ll never be apart again.

[cynicalone94]

In Memoriam

On a day that carries so much weight for Jay, the people he love look for a way to carry some of the load.

Happy Memorial Day, Jay! Thank you for your service! And to all veterans the same. 🫡

Read on AO3 here.

He’s been quiet all week.

Which isn’t that unusual. Jay isn’t exactly a loud person and the difference between content quiet and troubled quiet is subtle.

It had taken Hailey some time back when they’d first met to learn what to look for. And to be honest, it had been made easier by the turmoil that had been burning through him at the time.

Because when things had lifted, when therapy had finally helped him find some peace, even his quiet happiness had been the loudest thing in most rooms for a while.

But this quiet isn’t happy, isn’t even content.

The source is obvious, Memorial Day is only a few days away, a day that she knows carries an incredible weight for him. Carries countless painful reminders.

But the solution is much less so.

She doesn’t know how to support him, how to convince him to let her see his pain, let alone to help him carry it.

She can’t go to the cemetery with him, the majority of the brothers that he’d lost are buried in Arlington and it’s too late to get the time off for a trip to Washington.

Not to mention she knows the cemetery will be impossibly crowded for the weekend and that falling in with a sea of thousands of people won’t be what he needs.

Will be the farthest thing from helpful.

Which rules out dozens of ceremonies, memorials and celebrations to be held in Chicago as well.

Worse yet, even with the holiday weekend, Intelligence is on call and with summer temperatures already starting to rile up the criminal elements of the city it’s practically guaranteed that the team will be working.

Adam and Kim are planning a barbecue Saturday evening, just something small for the team that can easily be canceled or rescheduled if a case gets in the way.

And she knows, from a conversation back when they were just partners, that he doesn’t mind the fact that Memorial Day is synonymous with barbecues and pool parties.

“That’s what we fought for.” he’d told her, looking away. “What they died for. For people to live their lives, to be happy.”

But she could tell that he wishes more people could spare a few moments in the heart of that happiness to remember the men and women who had died to secure it.

Which gives her a shadow of an idea.

By some mercy, Saturday dawns without a case and Jay watches with tired confusion as she moves around the kitchen, gathering the picnic that she’d prepared.

She hands him his jacket, slinging her backpack over her own and he finally reaches out, grabbing her hand and pulling her close.

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” he asks, a hint of his usual half smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.

“Trust me?” she asks, hand coming up to cradle the side of his face.

“Always.” he says softly, leaning into her hand. They stand there together for a moment before she tugs his hand, leading him out of the apartment.

She sees the moment during the drive where he realizes where she’s taking him. Holds her breath as he tries to process it, waiting to see if he’s okay with it.

She parks her jeep, killing the engine and then turns to face him, blown away yet again by the depth of love in his eyes.

“Hailey.” he breathes, mouth moving soundlessly as he searches for words.

“I’m here.” she tells him. “I know I don’t understand this, can’t understand this, but I’m here and I love you.”

He glances out the window and she bites her lip.

“We don’t have to.” she tells him. “I just thought-”

“I love you.” he cuts her off. “Thank you.”

They climb out of the jeep, walking hand in hand over to the small memorial.

The boots, rifle and helmet are set in bronze. The memorial is dedicated to Conner T. Lowry, a marine who’d been killed in Afghanistan in 2012, but the granite base is also inscribed to ‘all of our US Armed Forces who serve in war and peace.’

She hopes it will help him feel closer to the brothers that he’s lost.

She loosens her hold on his hand as they approach but he just holds tighter, glancing over his shoulder.

“I’m here.” she repeats softly.

He drops to one knee in front of the monument, hand coming up to rest atop the helmet and his head bowing.

She kneels next to him, her arm around his shoulders and her head pressed against his.

There are no words, nothing for either of them to say as they kneel there together for a long time.

Jay’s eyes are filled with tears when he finally rises, turning to hug her tightly and pressing his face into her hair.

He steps back, taking hold of her hands and studying her face.

“Thank you.” he whispers.

Then he clears his throat and steps aside, nodding to someone and she turns to see another man quietly waiting his turn.

She offers the man a smile, glancing up at Jay and then taking the lead as they make their way into the park.

They find a quiet spot in the park and she takes off her backpack, pulling out the picnic blanket and spreading it across the grass.

Jay sprawls out across the blanket, staring up at the sky.

“This is nice.” he says after a moment. “Quiet.”

“I didn’t figure you’d want anything loud, or flashy.” she says, forgoing the food for the moment to lie next to him, intertwining their fingers.

His head rolls toward hers, eyes soft.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Their morning trip to the park had been something akin to perfection, allowing him a quiet moment to mourn his brothers without making it the focus of the day.

And afterward he’d felt at peace, the tormenting memories of his past held at bay enough to even enjoy the barbecue that evening.

To laugh with the others as Makayla flits from place to place, resplendent in her tutu and fairy wings.

As the sky starts to darken, Hailey gathers the team, passing beers around.

“There’s been a lot of things for us to enjoy today.” she says, smiling around at them. “Family, friends, good food, and more. And that’s okay because in some ways, that is what today is about. It’s about remembering the men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf. A sacrifice that they made so that we could live our lives with the people we love, so we could be happy and free. So this, barbecues and picnics, they honor that sacrifice. But we should also take a moment to remember.”

She raises the beer in her hand.

“To the ones who didn’t make it home.”

The rest of the team echoes her toast, raising their beers.

She waits a beat and then nods to Adam who distracts everyone by asking if anyone wants ice cream.

Jay waits until everyone’s attention is diverted before taking her hand, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

“You’re incredible.” he whispers.

“You deserve it.” she promises him. “You deserve everything.”

“It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God such men lived.” - George S. Patton

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