#i had forgotten about them and added them last minute lmaoo
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i feel i've been neglecting them.... so more re-animator family stuff!!!
#dedicated to the few people who enjoy this#happy pride#my art#reanimator#bride of reanimator#dan cain#herbert west#the bride#danbert#family au#++ about the windows in dan's room#i had forgotten about them and added them last minute lmaoo
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MATT CASEY
Ex-military
Requested: yes (by anonymous)
Prompts: none
Warning(s): none
Word count: 1.1K
Author’s note: Wrote this in one go and I feel like its absolute RUBBISH! Sorry for the long wait hopefully it’s okay. I’d give it a 6 out of 10 just for the lack of adjectives!
p.s Don't make fun of me my friends I tried really hard to make this disarming thing seem legit! You can obviously tell I’m not cop material lmaoo.
Requests for One Chicago are closed! Click here to see for which shows/movies the requests are open!
~
"How on earth did he even manage to get there?" you mumble, drilling into the suspect with your eyes. The only thing that was currently keeping him from dropping 100 feet to his death were the ropes and the firefighter next to him that was making sure he got down as graciously as possible. Even though he did not deserve it whatsoever.
Wallace Boden glanced back at you, pulling his hands into the air. "Don't ask me officer."
You shook your head with a sigh, clutching the ends of your vest tighter with your hands if that was even possible. Your eyes came together as you squinted them to look past the sun, wanting now more than ever to have a pair of sunglasses on your face. Your partner, Jay Halstead, was leaning against a black SUV, arms crossed over his chest and a pair of sunglasses on his handsome face. He watched the scene unfold before him and unlike you, the sun didn’t seem to faze him.
The street has been closed off, as expected in a case like this one. The unit had come heavily prepared 10 minutes ago, only to find the suspect hanging from a broken window being held up by nothing but his own pants. But he did look surprisingly peaceful as the Captain of truck 81 carried him down to the ground.
Creating order was your job and so you stepped outside the human shield of officers to help the Captain. "I'm here to take him off your shoulders, Cap."
Matt visibly smiled, chucking the man in front of him to take off his ropes. "By all means detective."
The next few seconds passed in a blur, barely even giving you time to assess the situation properly. Somehow somewhere, a gun was pulled out in the man's quick haste to escape. Pointing it to the unarmed Captain was his shot out of there.
Or so he thought.
It wasn't that you were thinking, more so that the amount of experience you had was what kicked in and brought you to action. The speed with which you had jumped in with to disarm the man only came from familiarity, and not from the rank. You grabbed the slide of the gun, clutching it tightly and obstructing the slide from cycling into a shot. The peacefulness he had carried with him was now long gone as he started to trash around, attempting to remove your grip and have full control of the gun again.
You didn't have it and instead pulled your elbow into his face until you heard, rather than felt, a sickening snap of bones. Your leg flew in right after, sending him hurling to the ground.
With the gun now in your possession, you allowed yourself to breathe. Tossing the gun from one hand to another like it was a toy, you turned to the stunned Captain. With a swift move of your hand, the magazine flew out and the gun was officially rendered useless.
"You aright, Cap?" You asked with a smirk, glancing at his chest that was raising and falling rapidly as puffs of air escaped his lugs.
Matt gave you a thumbs up, letting out the last panicked breath. "I don't know how you guys deal with this every day. You-"
"I have experience. But it was still a risky thing for me to do, I apologize."
Matt's eyes widened, "No, no it's alright. You definitely looked like you knew what you were doing."
You smiled, flattered in a way. "The military does that to you."
By now, the man was swarmed with detectives, and you didn't feel the need to interject, instead choosing the moment to walk the Captain to his truck. "You were in the military?"
"Mhmm," you mused, “That's where I learned how to do that."
You didn't even really know what name to call your little stunt. "Although I'm not anymore…in the military. Obviously. I mean, I -"
A heavy silence settled over you when you finally decided to stop rambling, thicker than the one surrounding the mass of police.
You felt incredibly awkward at that moment. Never knowing how to start a conversation with men, especially ones as handsome as Matt wasn't fairly uncommon for you. You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, showing him just how real you were without even knowing it.
People whistled when they saw what you did, expected you to be bold and confident because of it.
You weren't.
It intrigued him, and so he smiled, showing you his gleaming teeth. "Well, I think what you did back there was mind-blowing."
"Really? You really think so?"
Somehow getting a compliment from him was more than enough. Not even Voight's words will fill you up with pride like Matt's did just now. For whatever reason unfamiliar to you.
"I guess I owe you now," said Matt suddenly. Just as you were about to shake your head dismissively did, he stopped in his tracks, making you do the same too. "How about I return the favor with a drink?"
You pretended to think about it for a second, your toes curling in your combat boots as you did so, "Yeah sure. I'd like that."
The two of you exchanged details, scheduling your meet to be the following Saturday at Molly's.
You joined your unit with a skip in your steps and heart that was threatening to jump out. "What's with the smile?"
It was Jay who sneakily joined you by the car, looking at you with a knowing gaze in his blue eyes. The sunglasses hung on his dark red shirt, now forgotten due to the shade from the building. "I have a date!"
"With whom?" He asked, eyes just a bit wider than usual.
"Captain Casey."
Jay wiggled his eyebrows at, whistling proudly and bringing out his fist for you. You placed your own fist against his victoriously. "Atta girl."
"I know right?" You agreed dreamily, "All because I risked my life to get that gun away from him."
"I don't wanna be that person," Kevin Atwater came up to you with a frown, "But I think being ex-military has something to with all this."
"What do you mean?" You asked him.
"Oh, you know what I mean."
Kevin turned on his heels and stalked away after that, leaving you dazed and confused. "I seriously don't. What's he on about?"
Jay chuckled, slapping your shoulder teasingly. "Atwater thinks being ex-military helps you get noticed."
"Does it?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
Realization shook you a little to late. Jay had already walked away by the time it happened, although his broad shoulders were still very much visibly to you. You glared at them and exclaimed after him, "There was chemistry before I did anything! I felt it!"
You did feel it, and so did the captain.
MASTERLIST
~
Here is the link to my tag list masterpost! If you want to be added to one of my existing tag lists (or perhaps new ones) let me know! :)
Tags (general): @fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102 @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @theravenclawmarauder @httphiddlestan @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre @abimoon @sofiasamps @princxss-fia @thirstykpophoe ; (One Chicago): @lorenakaspersen ; (Chicago P.D.): @scarletsoldierrr
#matt casey#matt casey imagine#matt casey fanfiction#matt casey x reader#matt casey one shot#matt casey masterlist#Chicago Fire#chicago fire fanfiction#chicago fire imagine#chicago fire fanfictio#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire one shot#Chicago PD#chicago pd fanfiction#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd x reader
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What Makes Petals Red
I gave the Hanahaki AU a whirl way back when, and I didn’t realize I never posted it lmaoo. If you wanna read more of my stuff, then check here.
It wasn’t all that strange for her to be sweeping up petals in the aftermath of a wedding. They came in all shapes and sizes, their colors ranging from the purest of whites to the richest of reds, only to be scattered to the most peculiar of places and crushed under the heels of the guests as they left.
Some would have landed along the aisle, blessing the bride as she stepped into a future where she would never stand alone, while some would have settled on the seats, thrown by an overly enthusiastic flower girl that likely dreamed of being a bride herself. Some would have fallen from the arrangements that adorned the venue, having lasted as long as they could without their roots to sustain them, while some would have been victims of a curious guest, cast aside once their curiosity had been sated.
Some of the petals would be found in a haphazard pile - always near the back seats, in one corner of the hall, away from view. Petals she’d clean up from that area of the venue were always coated with a strange glaze, staining them with a thick, deep red and filling the air with a sharp, ferric scent.
Whenever she spotted petals like those, she would pause, silently wishing for even the slightest bit of peace for the heart left forever broken by the ceremony, and then she would continue with her job, sweeping up those odd petals and throwing them away with the rest of the garbage.
It wasn’t all that strange.
It wasn’t all that strange to find traces of the Flower Disease at a wedding.
The seasons she spent assisting her aunt with the family’s wedding organizing services had numbed her to the symptoms of the Flower Disease. The sight of red splattered across crushed petals, the scent of iron lingering in the air, the sound of laboured breaths in the distance - they might have once alarmed her, but nowadays, they were simply part of the business. There were no questions left to be asked.
Except sometimes, she couldn’t help but wonder.
When faced with a woman on her knees, crying her heart out while petals and blood escaped her lips with every sob. When faced with a man staining both the walls and the floor red with every punch of frustration and plea of desperation. When faced with an elder nearing the end of their days and yet still seeing the reminder of their hopeless affection each time their weakened lungs threatened to give out.
Sometimes, she couldn’t help but wonder why a broken heart would attend such an event, why anyone would watch a ceremony that only proved their unrequited feelings, why a person would subject themselves to that much suffering, why red would stain those petals-- But those moments of wonder were fleeting, and she never came to understand.
Frankly, she never hoped to understand.
It was easier that way.
A moment’s pity was all she could afford, and then she was onto the next assignment her aunt gave her. Only, the next wedding for them to plan was a special one.
The King of Hearts was to be married to Alice the Second, and the Queen of Hearts himself was going to oversee all aspects of the ceremony. From the flowers, to the food, to the music, to the seating - Jonah Clemence had a say in it, and although her aunt had been in the business long enough to know how to deal with such… personalities, she didn’t nearly have enough patience nor self-control. The couple themselves were pleasant people, but any decision that needed to be made would no doubt sprout a debate between the Queen and herself.
It then came to a point that working with him made progress impossible, and both she and her aunt agreed that, for the sake of the wedding’s success, she needed to take a step back. She gladly did so, relieved to be rid of the migraine-inducing Queen, but her newfound peace was short-lived. Not a day after she resigned from the assignment, Jonah Clemence marched into her aunt’s office, demanding that she be reinstated.
She vehemently refused, but then the Queen launched into the clumsiest, most roundabout speech about how much he trusted her judgement, and appreciated her input, and admired her verve, and all other sorts of sweet - yet utterly embarrassing - things, and she had never been so flustered in her entire life. By the end of it, they were both red with embarrassment, and she was certain both their hearts were hammering in their chests, a small voice in the back of her mind wishing it was for the same reasons.
After a declaration like that, she couldn’t possibly refuse, not that she wanted to anymore, and she came to see him in a new light. Jonah Clemence was still annoying, but tolerable. He still challenged her every decision, but it wasn’t out of malice or distrust like she had initially assumed. It was only out of the pure, simple want for two dear people in his life to have the wedding they deserve, and she was determined to make it happen, not just for the couple, but also for the person so fervently supporting them.
Days, weeks and months of planning, and the Queen of Hearts was always present for everything. He had turned into such a common presence that it almost felt… lonely walking the streets of Cradle without hearing him comment on a flower shop’s arrangements, or a restaurant’s menu, or a clothing brand’s aesthetic. She’d find herself counting the minutes before she could see him again, enjoying every second she was with him, dreading the hours when he was away, and as the date of the wedding drew nearer, she realized she didn’t want to spend her days without him beside her.
She realized she had fallen in love, and she swore that once the King of Hearts’ wedding was over, she’d tell him how she felt, but when the ceremony ended and all the guests had moved out into the Garden for the reception, she spotted a trail those odd petals again - crushed and bloodied, purposefully kicked to the side in a poor attempt to hide them.
Immediately, she picked up a broom to dispose of them. She had promised the Queen of Hearts that nothing would ruin this day for the King and his wife, and leaving such a tragic sight like those stained petals in plain view would simply not do. So, she swept them away as she usually would, only, she didn’t find a haphazard pile at the end of the trail.
It was Jonah Clemence, crouched down with tears streaming down his face, blood trickling from his lips and hands holding onto crushed petals.
“Jonah?” she quietly called out, his name escaping her before she could think of what to say. The Queen froze at the sound of her voice, but whatever fear or shame he might have felt was forgotten as another coughing fit racked his body. Quickly, she pulled out a handkerchief from her skirts and dropped to her knees so she could wipe away the tears and the blood from his face, all the while whispering gentle words to soothe him.
“You did your best, Jonah,” she quietly told him as she began using the sleeves of her own dress, her handkerchief not nearly enough to contain his grief. “I’m certain you did your best.”
“All I wanted… was, was for them to be happy. The both of them,” he stammered in between stifled sobs and bursts of petals. “If they found happiness, I was… I-I was certain I would be happy as well, but… but why aren’t I?”
Watching him crumble like all those that came before him, she could feel her eyes prickle with her own tears for she knew full well that his affections were a lost cause, and with how helpless his situation was, the only thing she could offer was a shoulder to cry on. She had never hoped to understand the reasons as to why broken hearts still attended weddings, but with him in her arms, she realized it could only be love.
Love-- Not the kind of love that had one wanting their beloved for themselves, but the kind of love that had one wanting their beloved to be happy.
Pure.
Selfless.
Tragic.
“I’m sorry, Jonah,” she whispered, pulling the stubborn man into an embrace, not caring for the tears and blood that would stain her dress, ignoring the ice that crept up her own heart. “You deserve happiness. You deserve so much love and joy and I’m so, so sorry it had to be this way.”
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that, on the floor in each other’s arms, with her running a hand up and down his back in an effort to soothe him while she herself fought to keep all her raging emotions in check. They only parted when someone came looking for the Queen of Hearts, and she did the best she could to make him presentable once more. He was still coughing up petals, but he was in a much better state than he was several minutes ago.
“Thank you,” he told her, quiet and sincere, as he held both her hands in his. “I apologize for letting you see me in such a disgraceful state, and ruining your dress, but… thank you for staying with me.” Gently, he squeezed her hands, and a warm expression graced his features. His eyes were red and swollen from the tears, but the smile he wore was nothing short of radiant. “I wish for your own happiness, as well…”
She managed a chuckle. “Didn’t you once say my ‘uncouth behaviour’ would scare every man I meet?”
“Only those that don’t deserve you,” he cheekily added, giving her hands one last reassuring squeeze before letting go. “Although if you do come across a man who doesn’t fear you, I would have to meet him myself. I can’t trust your judgement when it’s clouded by your emotions.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “In other words, you need to check if he’s good enough for me.” If she had heard those words before the wedding, it would have sent her heart somersaulting, but now, there was only a dull throb and a bitter taste in her mouth.
Rather than a usual roundabout reply, he just simply smiled. “I truly wish you all the best.”
She offered him a smile of her own, praying that it didn’t betray her. “And I, you.” She allowed herself a moment to savour the warm moment before gently pushing her hands against his chest. “Now go on, go. How dare you keep the King of Hearts waiting.”
“What about you?”
“I just need to finish up here, and I’ll be out shortly.”
“I suppose saving you a seat wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
With a shake of her head, she snorted. “I’d appreciate it if you’d do me that favor.” Satisfied with her response, the Queen of Hearts stalked out of the hall and joined the rest of the crowd.
Once alone, she picked up the broom again and attempted to finish disposing of the stained petals that littered the ground, only for something to catch in her throat and forcing her to cough into her palm. When she pulled her hand away, she found petals coated with her own blood. She stared at them for a long while before tossing them with the rest of the petals that needed to be disposed.
For her to be sweeping up petals like those in the aftermath of a wedding...
It wasn’t all that strange.
#ikemen revolution#ikerev#fanfiction#jonah clemence#lancelot kingsley#ikerev oc#angst#hanahaki au#but like really weak hanahaki au#what's this?#an ikerev fanfic? after 789218 years?#I really tried to think of a character for this#but no one from the main folks fit so#*insert random oc*#and since I can't really call it Hanahaki in what's supposed to be a copy of 19th century london#let's go with Flower Disease#had half the mind to call this piece Red Wedding#but the real question is#is this implied JonahxAlice#or is this implied JonaLot#ikevamp has consumed my life and there are ships I need to row myself
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