#call is coming from within the house chief!

[angelic-writer]

"Good. Now where were we..."

The gang continued talking until a knock was heard on Mavis’ door. Turning around, he saw his father standing there.

“Hey, it’s almost 9. Time to shut everything down.”

“Alright, I gotta go. Talk to you guys tomorrow.”

Carter and Tyler both waved goodbye. Gavin, however, started to protest. “Aw, come on! Really? Why can’t we be on call just a little longer?”

“Sorry, Gavin. But those are the rules.” Tyler said, ending their usual argument with hanging up. With the call ending, Mavis, after making sure everything was saved on his computer, proceeded to shut everything down. Laptop, phone - He even checked with his dad to make sure the TV’s unplugged. With that done, the house fell silent. Mavis laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the day he had today.

Just this morning, he was wishing that he would have more than four people to talk to. And just like that, there the Flammia kids were, ready to learn the rules of their new life here. It’s like God has answered his prayers.

“Thank you, God.” He said towards the ceiling. “Thank you for giving me new friends.”

After a while, it was time for bed. Mavis knelt by his bedside for his nighttime prayer.

“Now I lay me down to sleep. The Lord I pray my soul to keep. Watch and guard me through the night, and wake me with your morning light. And if I die before I wake, the Lord I pray my soul to take.”

When the police pulled up to Tim’s house, it was silent. Like nobody had been in there for an eternity. Police Lieutenant Abel Adams got out of the car and walked to the door, his partner and brother, Cain in tow. He couldn’t help but notice that something felt wrong about this place. He knocked on the door. “Hello? Police. We're here on behalf of Ms. Lonnie."

Nothing. Cain glanced at the driveway. “That’s weird... I don’t see any cars.” He said.

"Shit..." Abel banged on the door. “Anyone there? Open up!” When nobody answered, he nodded to the officers on standby, signalling them to go for it. With a bit of work, they forced their way in. Looking around, everything was untouched. A thin layer of dust was coating the kitchen counters and table. One of the officers noticed that the TV was on, displaying static. He felt a bit of annoyance at someone not following the rules, although when he checked, he noticed that it was unplugged.

That’s weird. Why is the TV still on? Is it broken? Did the family not pay their bills on time?

“Merryn? You alright?” His partner asked him.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” He replied, running his hand through his hair to try and smooth the frayed ends. They both stared at the TV, the display of static never ending.

“Do you think we should tell the chief about this?” His partner asked.

“I don’t know. From what it looks like, it seems like the family didn’t pay their bill. But look.” Merryn pointed to the unplugged jack. “If it’s unplugged, why is it still on?”

Abel and Cain have went up the stairs and down the hallway, checking the rooms to make sure Tim is inside. A deep feeling of unsettlement was starting to form in his stomach. He hoped to God that it isn’t what he thought it is. That maybe it was a case of a kid being sick and the parents forgetting to call in. Unfortunately, it seemed like reality was all too happy to kick him in the teeth as Cain called out from the other room. “Hey Abel! You may wanna see this...” The unsettled feeling immediately turned to dread. He couldn’t unhear the slight waver in hie voice. He went into the room his brother was in and he was dismayed at the sight before them.

There he was. Tim Matthews was lying on his bed, bleeding from long, vertical cuts on his arms. From how deep the cuts were and the amount of blood he lost, Abel surmised that he must’ve bled out within a few minutes. His skin had already turned ghost white and his eyes were staring up at the ceiling, unblinking. There was no hope of any medical intervention for him.

He had hoped he hadn't been too late. That by some miracle, he was still alive, but only barely. He would be able to swoop in and save Tim's life. But sadly, life does not work like that. When you die, that's it. You're never coming back from it. You will be nothing more than a lifeless body, leaving behind your family and friends to grieve.

Abel stared at the kid, feeling like the world had stopped around him. What is he gonna tell his parents? What is he gonna tell Ms. Lonnie?

“Abel? You alright?” Cain asked, putting his hand on his shoulder. Abel nodded and, without breaking eye contact from the boy’s empty eyes, spoke into the radio. “Guys, we found him. We got a 10-56.”

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[witchygagirlwrites]

Kelly Severide x Reader x Matt Casey

Vibes based off Fix What You Didn't break by Nate Smith

Edit and request by @desimarie12

When you started at fifty one it was a temporary position. Someone to help out as a partner for Sylvie until someone permanent could be found. Matt and Kelly never knew they'd find the one person who could repair their hearts the day you came sweeping into the doors of the station house.

You were quiet at times you should be loud and loud when you should be quiet, unbearable at night because you barely slept, acted like you couldn't exist without music and drank more coffee than rescue squad combined. 

You could also talk everyone into a snowball fight at two in the morning. You made the best pancakes and somehow could guess everyone's favorite color within a few minutes of talking to them.  You picked up on people's moods and could figure out if they needed someone to vent to, help finding a solution or just a distraction from whatever was plaguing them at the moment.

The day Kelly started to fall was actually Shay’s birthday. You didn’t know what the day was or why everyone, including Matt, was even giving him such a wide berth. He’d locked himself in his quarters where he planned to stay until a call came in but then you came knocking. He hadn’t looked up the first time but you were nothing if not persistent.

When he finally stood and unlocked the door you walked past him and sat down on the edge of his desk “Do you want to talk about it?” he sat down in the chair about a foot from you and stared you down “About what exactly?” 

The smile you gave him was one you normally reserved for trying to calm patients but he could tell it was genuine nonetheless “Whatever it is that’s bothering you so much even Matt hasn’t hardly looked your way. Your shoulders and jaw are so tense my muscles are hurting looking at them and your eyes look so damn sad”

He didn't know what it was but staring into your eyes he couldn't keep that wall up no matter how hard he tried. He found himself telling you all about Shay. By the time he was done you were standing next to the chair with your arms around his shoulders and his head was leaned over on your stomach “I'm so sorry Kel. I can't imagine losing someone like that. I've never had anyone mean that much to me. Just remember those we love are never truly gone as long as we carry them in our hearts. Any time you want to talk about her, come and find me. I'll be glad to listen” 

He probably should've been embarrassed, falling apart like that. Not showing a stronger front but he couldn't find that emotion in himself. He felt better after talking to you, a little less broken. He had no idea how you managed to have that quality about you, a tornado of a thing but yet here you were calming those around you. The eye of the storm and helping to calm it down. 

“Thank you darlin” he whispered and saw a smirk slip onto your face “Darlin huh? Listen at you being all sweet. She must have been one hell of a woman to have that effect on you”

The day Matt started to fall was when all of you responded to a call with another station house. You were working triage as they bought victims out of a warehouse fire.

The way you handled yourself as you worked the tent was extraordinary. You were helping Sylvie along with the medics from the other house. Moving from patient to patient, offering them a kind smile and never showing any sign of exhaustion.

When he went in he could hear your voice across the radio, behind Chief Boden yelling at the other house's men. He had no clue what was going on so he and Kelly worked continuing to clear the floor they were on until Boden called for them to clear out.

When they made it out you were currently being held back by Cruz and Capp from arguing with the captain of the other house. “Woah. Why is my medic trying to kill you?” He asked and you stopped fighting to turn towards the sound of his voice “This asshole decided to tear a wall down when Boden told him not to and forced the flames back towards you and Severide. That's why the clear out had to be called”

He turned to the other captain “Why didn't you listen to my chief?” The other captain shrugged “You have to take risks every now and then Casey” then glanced towards Kelly “Ask your boyfriend. We all know his track record” 

“That's it!” You yelled and dove over Cruz’s shoulder and Matt barely caught you as Boden ordered the other captain off the scene.

He carried you over to the triage tent before sitting you down. You were still breathing heavy and glaring at the members of the other house “Assholes want to endanger my captain and lieutenant then act like it wasn't a big deal”

“Your captain and lieutenant?” He asked and you shrugged “Until Boden finds a permanent partner for Sylvie” a smile slipped onto his face “I don't know you're sounding like you belong here” and you grinned “Maybe I just have decided you two won't take care of yourselves so someone needs to”

Kelly and Matt stood in their kitchen across from each other at the counter, both silent drinking coffee. “Y/N's contract is up this month” Kelly broke the silence.

“We're not letting her leave are we?” Matt asked and Kelly shook his head “Not without an effort to get her to stay”

______________

The day they finally got up the nerve to ask you if there was any way you'd let the two of them take you out you surprised them with letting them know you were officially a permanent fixture of fifty one.

"What made you decide to stay?” Matt asked as the three of you walked by the waterfront. You looked between them then shrugged “Maybe I like my captain and lieutenant just a little bit”

You wouldn't let either of them get in their heads. If Matt pulled away from Kelly you were pulling him back and vice versa. If Benny came around making Kelly doubt himself you were there, reminding him how good of a man he truly was.

Neither of them knew what it was about you. Was it the fact that you were wild where they were calm and the calm where they were wild? Was it the fact that you could see through any facade they put up and pinpoint exactly what was going on in their heads at the moment? 

You were the light to lead them home no matter the storm and always shined bright. When you would curl up between them and make sure to be touching them both before falling asleep, when they'd find you the next morning wearing one of  their shirts and dancing around the kitchen while the coffee made. 

When they would see your eyes tracking them on a scene and how your shoulders relaxed when they walked out. When they would have their absolute worst days but then come home and you would curl up on the couch and ask them to watch a movie and that day would melt away?

Yeah. You didn't realize it but you saved them. With your love, your spirit and just the person you were. 

[carlos-tk]

when the chief came to carlos’ family home after gabriel’s funeral and told carlos how sorry he was about his ‘daddy’ and how he won’t rest until he finds the ‘son of a bitch that did this to your daddy’ paired with the condescending shoulder pat.. i knew he was guilty.. the way he said it was so gleeful and sinister and telling that i knew we had the person who did this right in plain sight

[earthtooz]

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.” 

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 

“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs. 

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  

“Which was?” 

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know���”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 

“I love you, Wriothesley.” 

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[wandasboy]

A Well-Deserved Break (part 2)

Older!Detective!Agnes x Younger!GN!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

DO NOT COPY OR PUBLISH MY WORKS. MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY

Summary: It had been a week since your last encounter with Agnes, you couldn’t stop thinking about her no matter how hard you tried.

Tags: Age gap, gn!reader, no use of y/n, pet names, flirting, suggestive themes, sexual content

Word Count: 1200+

A/N: Sorry it took so long! Also, I have never written smut before so bear with me. There will likely only be one more part.

It is finals week, and you have one more exam to study for. You had been hunched over your desk for most of the evening once classes were over and were beginning to feel how stiff your back and neck were. You decided it was time for a break. It’s winter, but you decide a walk would be nice, just to stretch and get your blood pumping. You pulled on the first coat you saw and walked outside. 

About 10 minutes into your walk, you began to curse yourself for leaving the house without gloves or a hat, or even a thicker coat. Being stubborn, you shoved your hands in your pockets and kept going, not wanting to waste your break. As you are shuffling along the sidewalk, you hear a car pull up to a stop next to you.

“Well look who we have here, what are you doing walking around outside this late?” Detective Agnes smirks at you and waves you over. 

You smile and walk closer to the passenger door. “Hi Chief, I’ve been studying for hours and wanted some fresh air.” 

She watched as you rubbed your hands together,  chilled from the cold breeze. “Pretty cold for a walk don’t you think, sweetheart? C’mon, hop in and get warm.” 

Your face is red and wind-burnt and you can’t feel the tips of your fingers. She unlocks the door and you step in. “Thank you,” you mumble while shivering. 

“So smart and yet you’re out here without gloves and a hat?” She clicks her tongue in feign disapproval. She reaches into the back and grabs an extra jacket, throwing it over your lap. 

You pull it up over your arms and around your shoulders. In doing so, you catch a hint of her sandalwood and amber cologne lingering on the collar. You breathe it in, relaxing into the passenger seat. 

She watches you in her peripherals, smiling to herself. Within minutes of pulling away, she gets a text which makes her huff in frustration. 

“Damnit, stupid officers can’t do a single thing on their own.” She turns to look at you, “Sorry baby, I have to stop at the station and fix this. Do you want me to drop you off at your place?”

You can tell she’s peeved by the tone in her voice. Her grip on the wheel had tightened and she had turned back to face the road. 

You had missed her since the last time you saw her. Although you had only been with her for a few minutes, you found yourself longing to spend more time with her. “Can I come with you?” 

Agnes drew a short breath at your question, surprised. She quickly regained her composure, “I don’t see why not.”

~~~

Upon arriving at the station, Agnes opens the door for you, leading you to her office. She sits in her chair to take a call. You watch her from your spot near the door, unsure what to do. You try not to pay too much attention to the way her legs are spread, how her fingers grip the phone, and how every time she raises her voice it sends chills down your spine. 

Instead of standing there awkwardly, you take the opportunity to look around her office. Her chair is pulled away from her desk, so you walk in front of her to look at the items on her desk. She has case files, sticky notes, a framed picture, and a few trinkets scattered on her desk. You pick up a half-solved rubik’s cube and begin to fidget with it. 

Agnes looks up, watching you move in front of her, looking and touching the many items she has on her desk. She continues her conversation (although it is more her yelling at the person on the other end.)

Focused on the rubik’s cube, you barely notice her stand up, grabbing a file in front of you. You feel her breath on your neck and you shiver. Your heart begins to race as her front is almost flush to your back. Getting the file she needed, she sits back down in her chair. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

You turn to watch her, seeing how focused she is (albeit irritated), how she exudes authority and confidence. Gathering courage, you decide to sit on her desk, facing her, while you wait. She suddenly looks up, watching you. Her eyes rake over you and you shrink under her stare. She yells at the guy on the phone then hangs up with a sigh. You look down at her coyly as she sits back, enjoying her view. 

“Such a pretty doll you are.” She smirks, watching how you react to her words. Without thinking, you lick your lips and shift on her desk. She suddenly stands up directly in front of you, quickly taking advantage of the slight spread of your legs, stepping between them. She places both hands on the desk on either side of you, leaning into your space. You gasp, feeling her up against you. She chuckles at your reaction and moves her mouth closer to your neck, whispering. 

“You like this don’t you, sitting here, acting innocent. Such a tease.” She nips at your ear and you let out a small moan and instinctively shift your hips. The action causes your core to brush against her front. 

She takes this opportunity to grab your hips and pull you closer. You yelp at her rough grip, which encourages her to grind you against her. You reach up and put your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself. “Mm, such pretty sounds.” She presses her lips to your neck, ghosting her lips slowly downward. She licks at your pulse point and you wrap a hand around her neck. She bucks her hips and slides one hand under your shirt. Before she gets further, there is a knock at the door. She pulls away from you and sighs. Someone yells, “goodnight chief” through the door and walks away. 

Agnes looks at her watch and then back up to you. “It’s pretty late, we should get you home.” 

You look at her, visibly frustrated. “But-”

“Another time, baby. C’mon.” She gives you her hand to help you down from her desk. She grabs her coat and takes your hand, leading you out of the station. The drive to your place is silent, the tension evident in the air. You wonder how she knows where you live, but don’t question her. Upon arriving, she turns to look at you. 

“Goodnight, doll,” she says leaning over to kiss your cheek. 

You feel your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. “Goodnight Detective,” you say with a small smile and get out, turning around to wave once you reach your door. 

Once you get inside, you lean against the door, letting out a deep breath. You close your eyes and try to stop your mind from racing. You decide to take a shower, hoping it will ease the butterflies in your stomach. After showering, you get in bed, knowing you’d be unable to focus on studying at this point. Lying in bed, your mind wanders, remembering the feeling of Agnes’ hands on you, her tongue tracing down your neck. You fall asleep, unable to ease the throb between your thighs.

~~~

Agnes drives back to her place, her mind replaying the events in her office. Upon getting home, she grabs a beer and sits on her couch, trying to distract herself from imagining having you all to herself, no interruptions… 

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Robert Tait at The Guardian:

Republicans are already laying the ground for rejecting the result of next week’s US presidential election in the event Donald Trump loses, with early lawsuits baselessly alleging fraud and polls from right-leaning groups that analysts say may be exaggerating his popularity and could be used by Trump to claim only cheating prevented him from returning to the White House.

The warnings – from Democrats and anti-Trump Republicans – come as Americans prepare to vote on Tuesday in the most consequential presidential contest in generations. Most polls show Trump running neck and neck with Kamala Harris, the vice-president and Democratic nominee, with the two candidates seemingly evenly matched in seven key swing states. But suspicions have been voiced over a spate of recent polls, mostly commissioned in battleground states from groups with Republican links, that mainly show Trump leading. The projection of surging Trump support as election day nears has drawn confident predictions from him and his supporters. “We’re leading big in the polls, all of the polls,” Trump told a rally in New Mexico on Thursday. “I can’t believe it’s a close race,” he told a separate rally in North Carolina, a swing state where polls show he and Harris are in a virtual dead heat.

An internal memo sent to Trump by his chief pollster is confirming that story to him, with Tony Fabrizio declaring the ex-president’s “position nationally and in every single battleground state is SIGNIFICANTLY better today than it was four years ago”. Pro-Trump influencers, too, have strengthened the impression of inevitable victory with social media posts citing anonymous White House officials predicting Harris’s defeat. “Biden is telling advisers the election is ‘dead and buried’ and called Harris an innate sucker,” the conspiracy theorist Jack Posobiec posted this week. GOP-aligned polling groups have released 37 polls in the final stretch of the campaign, according to a study by the New York Times, during a period when longstanding pollsters have been curtailing their voter surveys. All but seven showed a lead for Trump, in contrast to the findings of long-established non-partisan pollsters, which have shown a more mixed picture – often with Harris leading, albeit within error margins.

[...] Trump, who falsely claims that Joe Biden stole the 2020 election, is also paving the way for repeating the accusation via legal means. He told a rally in Pennsylvania that Democrats were “cheating” in the state, and on Wednesday his campaign took legal action against election officials in Bucks County, where voters waiting to submit early mail-in ballots were turned away because the deadline had expired. A judge later ordered the county to extend early voting by one day. There is no evidence of widespread cheating in elections in Pennsylvania or any other state, and mail-in ballots are in high demand in part because Trump himself has encouraged early voting. Suing to allege – without evidence – that there has been voting fraud is part of a well-worn pattern of Trump disputing election results that do not go his way. In the aftermath of the 2020 election, his team filed 60 lawsuits disputing the results, all of which were forcefully thrown out in court. Anti-Trump Republicans have expressed similar concerns to Democrats about Trump’s actions. Michael Steele, a former Republican national committee chair and Trump critic, told the New Republic that the GOP-commissioned polls were gamed to favour Trump. “You find different ways to weight the participants, and that changes the results you’re going to get,” he said. “They’re gamed on the back end so Maga can make the claim that the election was stolen.”

[...] Trump-leaning surveys have influenced the polling averages published by sites such as Real Clear Politics, which has incorporated the results into its projected electoral map on election night, forecasting a win for the former president. Elon Musk, Trump’s wealthiest backer and surrogate, posted the map to his 202 million followers on his own X platform, proclaiming: “The trend will continue.” Trump and Musk have also promoted online betting platforms, which have bolstered the impression of a surge for the Republican candidate stemming from hefty bets on him winning. A small number of high-value wagers from four accounts linked to a French national appeared to be responsible for $28m gambled on a Trump victory on the Polymarket platform, the New York Times reported.

Republicans prepping to be sore losers by rejecting the results if Donald Trump loses.

[beardedmrbean]

A Michigan man used an an all-terrain vehicle to run over and critically injure an 80-year-old man who was putting a Trump sign in his yard, in what police have described as a politically motivated attack.

The 22-year-old suspect in Sunday’s vehicle-ramming in the city of Hancock called police to confess before apparently taking his own life, authorities say.

Before targeting the elderly man, police say, the suspect vandalised two parked vehicles, smashing the windows of one that displayed a Trump sticker, and damaging the tyres of another that had a sticker supporting police.

The rampage took place just over a week after a 20-year-old would-be assassin attempted to kill Donald Trump at a political rally in Pennsylvania.

"The crimes reported in the city of Hancock appeared to be politically motivated, involving victims who displayed Trump election signs as well as law enforcement appreciated stickers and flags commonly referred to as 'thin blue line' paraphernalia," the Houghton County Sheriff's Office said in a statement.

The 80-year-old man was taken to hospital with critical injuries after being struck from behind by the suspect's ATV.

On Monday, police went to a nearby home after receiving a call from a person who said he wanted to "confess a crime involving an ATV driver within the last 24 hours" and asking police to come pick him up.

When officers arrived at the home, they found the suspect dead from what they believe was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

"What this has done to this community is pretty upsetting," Hancock Police Chief Tami Sleeman told the Detroit News. "Our concern is the safety of everybody here. Politics should not bring violence."

The police chief added that nobody else is believed to have played a role in the attack. Electronics have been seized from the man's home.

The FBI is involved in the investigation.

A spokesman for Donald Trump's likely Democratic opponent in November, Kamala Harris, as well as Michigan's Democratic Governor Gretchen Whitmer, each released statements condemning political violence, according to the New York Times.

The shooting of the Republican White House candidate spurred bipartisan calls to lower the temperature of political rhetoric in the run-up to November's election, but the results have been mixed.

Last Friday police in Jupiter, Florida, arrested Michael Wiseman, 68, on suspicion of making online threats towards Trump and his running mate, Ohio Senator JD Vance, and their families.

[sword-is-bored]

Remember me?

(Hello! I wrote this as a start of a sequel to my Fic A Breath of You

Link and (Y/n) are married <3)

"I'll be back before you know it." Link smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. I sighed and pulled him in for a hug. Finding it hard to feel any of him through the armor. He hugged back, holding me close. Our embrace was intimate and warm. I always got anxious when he left for the castle. I knew it was his duty, and it's been years. But... I still fear. I can't shake the anxious feeling within my heart. "I know." I murmured and looked up at him. He wore a gentle expression as I pulled myself off of him. He held out his hand, and I placed mine within it my ring glinting in the soft light. "As long as you wear this ring, I will always come back to you. Always." He promised. I nodded, a sad sigh escaping my lips

Link placed a finger under my chin, gently tilting my face up to look in his eyes. They were filled with love and kindness. He pulled me in, giving me a soft kiss. "Before you know it, (Y/n). Zelda wanted to see what's under the Castle. It shouldn't be anything but research, alright?" He whispered. I nodded, feeling his hands leave me. "Why don't you visit Impa? I heard she's giving the title of Chief to Paya. Go congratulate her. Support her, you know? Take Sky on a trip. So you don't have to be alone here. If I take longer than a day, I'll meet you back here. Alright, love?" He opened the door, tilting his head. I sighed and turned, looking at my traveling stuff hung up. "Yeah. I guess. I haven't seen Impa in a while." I mumbled.

Link gave a wink as he exited the door. "That's my girl. Go see them. I'll see you there, or here. Okay? Before you know it." He repeated and slowly shut the door. I sighed and listened to the sounds of him grabbing his horse, Malo, and taking him to ride away to the castle. I stood in our house, the sounds of emptiness filling me with dread. I sighed and walked up the stairs. I sat in our bed and laid back, already missing him. He was right. I should go see Impa. And Paya.

After another moment I pulled myself out of bed and gathered my traveling gear. I pulled on my things, taking Link's hood and wrapping it around myself. He wore it when tending to the animals so I could smell him on it. I smiled, grabbing my satchel and a weapon. And a bow, and I stole some arrows from Link's stash.

Technically since we were married now, it's my stash too.

I laughed at my own little joke. I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. Wow. I haven't worn this stuff since... the events. Since Link and I first moved in. We built our house to be cozy, and warm. A couch, a table and chairs. Our bed upstairs, with a vanity and some more things scattered here and there. For our wedding gift Link had a print of him and I painted in our wedding outfits. Flowers and white and he looked dazzling in the royal guard uniform. I loved it. Our horses were even in the picture behind us.

I turned to the door, opening it and looking left. Sky was happily munching on grass in the field beside our house. "You." I called out, finding her looking up at me tiredly. "We're going on an adventure." I smiled, pulling the door shut and walking over. She seemed to stare at what I was wearing and slowly walked away from me. "That's... you asshole. Get back here. Lazy whore." I muttered, walking behind the house to the shed. I opened the door, finding her reigns and saddle. I pulled them off their place, finding the saddle especially dusty. I brushed it off, walking over to Sky. She eyed me suspiciously, I smiled holding up the supplies. "I hope you're not too fat to wear this. Hylia knows all you do is sit and eat. I thought you used to be wild."

Sky snorted, turning to walk away again. "Don't you dare." I muttered, pulling out the reigns. I reached out and gently tugged at her halter. "I understand you haven't walked more than a few steps a day," That was a lie I took her out on rides weekly. "But, today you are looking pretty. We're going to see Impa." I said, reaching up to pull off the halter. I took the bit of her bridle and coaxed it into her mouth. Sky watched me with a glare, stubbornly going along with this. I smiled and gave her a pat. "I will give you all the apples we find. As soon as you start behaving." I hummed, putting the rest of the bridle on.

I gently tugged, making sure everything was secure. Sky, however, swung her head a bit faster than I expected when I tugged. I grunted and pulled back, so she didn't head but me. "You will be meat if you don't stop acting up." I muttered, tying her reigns to the fence. She snorted at me, as I placed the saddle pad on. I threw her saddle on top, reaching under her and pulling the straps tight. I continued to make sure she was travel ready and gave her reassuring pats. After the uncomfortable stuff was done, I untied her reigns and tossed them over her head. "That's my pretty girl, look at you." I whispered, petting her happily. Sky was not impressed, but I don't think there was much for her to complain about. I placed my foot in the stirrups and pulled myself up on her back. I situated myself on the saddle, patting her softly. "Good girl. Thank you." I said softly, steering her reigns towards the gate. We pushed out, and began making our way to Kakariko.

"(Y/n)!" Paya cheered, as I stepped through the doors of Impa's house. I giggled feeling her squeeze me into a tight hug. I gently wrapped my arms around her and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Paya, I heard Impa was giving you title of chief. Congratulations dear! You're going to do amazing." She grinned and blushed embarrassed. "Oh, yeah. That's what she says." She mumbled and backed away. I turned to my old friend and smiled. "Impa!" She opened her arms and I gave her a hug. "(Y/n), it's so good to see you. How are you? How's Link?" She asked, taking my hands. "Oh, I'm well. Link is too. He's on his way to the castle to help Zelda and her research."

Impa's eyes searched mine for a moment before relaxing. "Alright. I see why you're here now. Come, my dear. Let's go out and wander the town. Paya, you're in charge." Impa called. Paya squeaked out, scrambling for something. I laughed softly as the old woman led me outside. "You've prepped her for being leader so soon?" I asked softly. "Oh, yes. I'm old. I'm tired, and I don't want to lead anymore. I wish to relax and do what I want. You've been able to, so why don't I?" I laughed softly, allowing her to lead me around town. We spoke to the other townsfolk, everyone greeting me with a smile and open arms. I've gotten more hugs in the past years than I ever did. It's nice.

We toured around some more, Impa making conversation with everyone we met. I watched and night drew near. We returned to her home and sat in the living room. I undressed from my armor, leaving only a shirt I stole from Link and some comfy pants to rest in. This was heaven. Life was great. "Have you two been planning for children?" Impa asked after a long night of conversation. "Honestly," I murmured, leaning back on my hands. "I don't know. I've brought it up to Link, and we've been... you know." I blushed. "I think he wants to make sure Hyrule is completely safe before he wants to bring children into the world. I respect that. I would like some children though. Hopefully once he's done examining the castle, everything will be perfect." I said. Impa laughed and shook her head. "Of course. I understand. A warrior simply wants his children to grow up with peace. How noble of him. You're still young." She said, using quotation marks around that word.

I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I worry though." I said softly. "He has night terrors. Stress and trauma from everything he's been through. I've woken up to him screaming, and fighting the blankets. By the time I get him to calm down he's wide awake. Sometimes I'll wake up and find him standing in the living room with the master sword in hand. I know everything's still effected him, but I hope it begins to dwindle soon. I think he's coping with it better, though." I thought back to the first night I found him like that.

I woke up to his spot cold. I crawled out of bed, and he was marching downstairs. Like he was in a trance of some sort. "Link?" I had whispered, reaching out to tap his shoulder. His hand snapped up, grabbing my wrist. His eyes locked with mine and he seemed to break. Tears ran down his face and fear swirled in his eyes. I held him as he shook, crying into my shoulder.

"I worry if we have children, he'll be even more stressed. So I hope this will put him at ease." Impa nodded her head solemnly. "Yes. It's hard watching someone go through the after effects of a great ordeal. You're doing the best you can to support him. I know it." I smiled and nodded to myself. Link knows I've went through this as well. After reading my journal he took a long, long look at me. I was worried he'd be upset but instead he pulled me in to a hug and cried with me. Apologizing for everything I'd been through, and what I was put through.

"(Y/n), there's a huge herd of horses behind Kakariko. Would you like to go see them tomorrow? There's a beautiful stallion within them, and I think he'd really catch your eye." Impa suggested. I smiled, being pulled out of my sad thoughts. "Absolutely. I'd love to." With that, Impa helped me get my things together for bed and we slept. The silent house creaked in the night, but it seemed to lull me to sleep.

"Woah." I whispered, standing atop the hill of Kakariko. The city below me as I watched the herd of horses grazing. I smiled, standing tall and feeling the wind wrap around me. Suddenly, I heard soft whispers. I turned around, finding the Great Fairy fountain glittering. It seemed to beckon me. I wandered over, climbing up the petals and resting myself on the pad. Slowly, the fairy emerged. Cotera took a long look at me as she exited the fountain. "Why hello dear, why are you here?" She hummed, a sing song voice. I smiled and shrugged. "It's a beautiful place to relax, you've made it quite the home." I complimented. She let out a soft laugh, and it sounded almost sad. "Yes, well, I'm moving."

"Moving?" I asked abruptly, blinking quickly. She nodded slowly. "I sense a great evil. It's coming." She whispered fearfully. "Run child, save yourself." I shook my head, my eyes widening. "No." I cried out softly. "No, please you can't say that. Hyrule is at peace." He hands reached out and pushed me, suddenly I felt the ground rumble beneath me. Within a moment her bloom vanished, as did the rest of the fairies. I was falling, and the ground began to lift from beneath me. I screamed, tilting back with nothing to hold onto me. Suddenly I was caught between the sky and the ground. I watched as it lifted up, leaving me. Falling. One last scream escaped from my mouth.

"Link!"

Impa was close behind (Y/n), but not enough. She felt the rumbles and heard her scream. She climbed up the mountain as fast as she could. There, she found a darkness as the ground lifted. On the edge was (Y/n), laying crumbled on the ground. Unconscious. She ran over, pulling her away from the darkness. "Somebody help!" She screamed, her voice echoing through the hills. (Y/n)'s arm was the wrong way, obviously broken from trying to catch herself. She had blood oozing from the back of her head. "(Y/n), wake up." Impa whispered, shaking her body. Paya and a few other villagers had rushed to them. They saw (Y/n) and Impa, taking (Y/n) and helping Impa down the hill.

They laid her on a medical bed as they wrapped her arm and her head wound. She seemed to be breathing fine, but whatever happened knocked her out cold. "Grandma, what happened?" Paya asked softly. "(Y/n) was watching the horses, and then it looked like she went to visit the Great Fairy. I wasn't far behind, but then the ground began to rise and," Impa sucked in a breath. "I heard her scream. I've... never heard her scream like that." She whispered fearfully. "We have to find Link. We have to let him know (Y/n)'s been injured." Her arm was broken, and they thought some of her ribs might've as well. Her head... oh goddess her head. They worried. (Y/n) rested peacefully and Impa watched over her, with baited breath. A letter for Link was sent out to Purah, where Impa was informed Link and Zelda were missing.

"Link, your wife needs you." Impa whispered, holding (Y/n)'s good hand. (Y/n) woke up in the night, gasping for water. She was given it and immediately fell back into a slumber. Her eyes rolling back and her body slumping. After another day, she awoke. Confusion danced in her eyes, and she squinted around.

—

-

—

"Where am I?" I breathed out, my eyes fluttering as they adjusted to the sights around me. My chest hurt, my arm hurt and my head was hammering. I groaned, closing my eyes tightly. It felt like someone was taking a stick and slamming it into my skull. "(Y/n), you're awake." An old woman sitting beside my bed squeezed my shoulder. I looked at her, tilting my head. "You're in my house." The woman whispered. I looked at her with wide eyes, nodding slowly. "(Y/n)? You look pale." I leaned back, sucking in a breath. The urge to vomit was strong, but I knew I could hold it back. I was fine.

"Can... can I have something to write with?" I asked softly. "Of course. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" I nodded slowly. "Yes. I am." I clenched my right hand, feeling tingling building it's way up my wrist. "Goddess, what did I do to this hand?" I asked. The woman was searching for something for me, and came back with a book and a pen. "Did you injure it during your fall as well? We couldn't find anything broken. Just your nerve damage." I blinked, staring at my hand. A ring sat on my finger. "I... I'm... married? I have nerve damage? I fell?" I whispered to myself.

Where was I?

Who was that?

When... when did I get married?

She placed the book and pen in my lap. I nodded a thanks, taking it and using my bad arm to hold open the page. "(Y/n)?" The woman whispered. I refused to look at her. Shame washed through me. "I'm sorry... I don't know who you are." I said quietly. The woman seemed to still. "I see." She squeaked. She watched me for a moment before patting my arm. "It's alright, dear. Rest. We'll talk later." I nodded and stared down at the pages of the book. Empty. Blank.

Dear Journal,

Who am I?

"Paya." Impa hissed, grabbing her granddaughter's arm. "We need to talk." Paya turned to Impa. "What is it?" She asked softly. "Go inside and introduce yourself to (Y/n). She'll be less scared with someone who she thinks is her age." Impa urged. Paya made a face. "What are you talking about?" She asked. Impa shook her head, her grip tightening on Paya's arm. "Do what I say, now. As your grandmother, listen to me." Paya swallowed before opening the door to Impa's home, finding (Y/n) staring at the book in her lap.

—

-

—

"Hello there. I heard your name is (Y/n). I'm Paya, the leader of this village you're in. Kakariko." I stared at the girl who wandered in. She may be a bit younger than me, but she was comforting. "Oh. Okay." I murmured. "It's nice to meet you." Paya smiled softly and looked at my journal. "What are you writing there?" I looked at it and sighed. "I need to get my feelings out somehow. I... don't know anyone who I can talk to about my feelings. Am... do you know me?" I whispered. Paya looked at me carefully. "Maybe." She murmured. "Why?" I sighed and looked down at my journal. "I wake up, shirtless and wrapped in bandages. A strange woman beside me holding my hand, and a ring on my finger. My head is pounding, it hurts to sit up and... I can't remember anything. My head hurts so bad." I whispered.

Paya sat beside me, looking into my eyes. "I know a friend who went through something similar. That woman is Impa. She's my grandmother. She's a very kind and gentle woman, who helps anyone in need. We found you and figure you'd fallen. Taken a big hit too. We have a friend who would be more than willing to help you with your memory loss. He's suffered through it as well, and he's the kindest and most genuine man I know. He'll take you around Hyrule with him. It'll be an adventure. Does that sound like something you'd want?" Paya asked softly. I thought for a moment, slowly nodding. "I think I'd like that. What's his name?" I asked. "Link. His name is Link."

—

-

—

"She doesn't remember anything. Or anyone." Paya said shakily, stepping out of the house. She slowly broke down into tears in front of Impa. "Grandma, what are we going to do? How are we going to tell Link?" Paya whispered. Impa held her granddaughter, pain flowed through her. She began to cry as well, holding Paya close. "My dear... I don't know." She whispered. "I don't... know."

—

-

—

"Linky!" Purah gasped, seeing the man again for the first time. Link stood in front of her, his arm was different and he looked disheveled. She helped him, and before she set him out on the task of the four villages. "Your wife..." She whispered softly. "(Y/n).. there's been an accident." Link snapped his head to Purah.

"What?"

[goth-mami-writer]

💙Reserve💙~(pt.2)~

~(Au)Leon Kennedy × f!Reader drabble

~[Continued by request]

~{Find part 1 here} @exquisitelion

(Taking requests for new drabbles. Send me your ideas, and I'll tag you in the upload! 💙)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

《~ A week later.

It was early that morning when Leon received a call regarding a bust in progress for a crime ring across town. Some of the individuals involved were suspects in your case. He couldn't leave you at the house alone safely, so every time he left for a call, you played a ride-along in the backseat.

Unfortunately, every time this happened, you had no good warning, and had to come with no preparation.

Leon approached the horde of police cruisers that were circled around an open freighter in the dockyard. Agents for the bureau were confiscating the contents endlessly in large bags and totes, and there were men knelt to the gravel being questioned in handcuffs. But they were silent, unwilling to offer any information regarding their business or identities.

The chief of police approached Leon's side, asking him quietly if you were with him.

“Yeah, she's asleep in the cruiser.” Leon replied.

“Bring her.” His boss said with his head tilted to the people being detained in front of them,

“She might recognize someone here. That'll help us with info since they wanna clam up.”

Leon sighed, turning to head back to the car where he had you locked inside. Or so he thought. He cocked his head over to see that outside of his back passenger window hung your clear platform heels still strapped on your feet as you undoubtedly slept. Your ankles were crossed as they fell over the side of the car, and he sighed, watching other officers on their walkies give the sight a curious glance.

You'd just gotten off work, so he knew you were exhausted but leaving you to sleep alone at the house didn't sit well with him. He wanted to scold you for opening the window when he wanted the doors locked but he popped his head inside to rouse you awake softly,

“Can I ask a favor?”

You smiled in your sleep hearing that and murmured sleepily in a tease to encourage him to choose his words better,

“In front of everyone?...Hot.”

You reached your ankle up to rest atop his shoulder lewdly since he was leaned over into the cab, and the thought of your legs around him made him jump with a jitter of excitement. It was also embarrassment since there were others close by. But your long legs were one of the features he found the sexiest about you.

He chuckled and carefully put your legs back inside before opening the door. His palm meeting your thigh even momentarily made your skin crawl and your eyes opened. He leaned in the car to help you up from the backseat and you grumbled tiredly when he became face to face with you,

“You owe me breakfast for this.”

“You'll get whatever you want.” He assured you in a grunt as he pulled you forward.

Leon held the small of your back when you came to your feet. He walked you across the gravel lot and it felt endearing to be so protected beside him. You chuckled somewhat evilly as you followed close by behind him and replied before meeting the chief,

“Don't tell me that.”

~

That night, you heard Leon come home and he went straight to his bedroom that doubled as his office. You hated that he kept his work in his bedroom because it made him prone to not sleeping well. He'd get up all hours of the night to write something on his whiteboard or find a case note within one of his files.

He was working himself to death.

You made a meal downstairs, knowing the noise and the smell of food wouldn't even bother him. You made a small plate and brought it upstairs when it became almost midnight. You knocked on his door, letting him know you were coming in, but he stayed silent.

He sat with his MacBook in his lap at the foot of his bed, crouched on the floor in front of his rolling whiteboard. You sighed seeing all the case documents pinned to the dry-erase board, tiny scribbles of probably late night epiphanies surrounding each thumbtack and photograph.

This was insanity. He was working twenty four hours a day at this point and there was no way even a salary could be this rewarding.

“You've not eaten.” You told him, trying to entice him to at least come downstairs but he shook his head as it rested in his fingertips, telling you he was fine.

After setting down his plate, you came to lay in his bed for the first time. You had only been in this room a few times in the week past but never for this long. He turned his head slightly, only letting his eyes move to see you now spread on his duvets. Your red silk night slip trailed up your thigh as your knee stayed propped up and he softly bit the inside of his cheek to the sight. He wondered now if you wanted to keep him company, but right now, he just couldn't afford it.

“Le-” You said softly from atop his bed, calling him by his affectionate nickname,

“-you've been staring at the same thing for hours.”

“I'm missing something.” He muttered exhaustedly with his eyes glued to the board,

“I feel like it's right in front of me.”

He stood up, wincing to the pain in his back from sitting on hardwood and he continued to stare at that board that you wanted to roll into the hall and let fall down the stairs. Nothing would get solved with him running himself into the ground and you wished he knew it too.

“Killing yourself in exchange for a breakthrough isn't going to make the mayor lick your boots any harder, yanno?” You mentioned, turning your eyes in his direction as you faced his ceiling.

“It's not….just the mayor-” Leon groaned, rubbing his shoulder as it ached from sitting so long.

You were surprised by that comment. He always mentioned making the mayor of the city happy as being his number one goal. It seemed different now and your interest was piqued. But you remained at ease on his mattress, feeling as he sat beside you with a huff.

You rolled onto your stomach, growing closer to him on the bed as you asked from your curiosity that had grown,

“Then what else are you looking for? Because you've got quite the monkey on your back for a cop not even close to retiring, not yet at the peak of his career and not graced with a woman at home to warm his bed at night.”

Leon looked over, wondering if you'd made your punchline yet and you finished with a sigh as he gave that look when he was becoming unenthused.

“You're on the brink of a burnout, Leon. Take a break- I don't care if we just eat ice cream in our pajamas and talk shit. You need it.”

Leon half smiled, not quite ready to give in, then lied on the bed opposite to you. You watched as he covered his tired eyes with the heels of his palms most likely from his exhaustion. Quietly, you rose from the mattress and turned off his overhead light. Your steps were quiet as you traveled back to the bed with an idea in easing his frustration.

He felt you crawl back into the bed, but suddenly and careful, you sat now on top of him in the dark. He called out your name but all too late as you were determined now to do something about the world of stress he carried.

“Tell me how I can help you. Since you won't tell me why you're so strung out on working to death.” You whispered from above him and he squirmed feeling your warmth and weight on top of him once again. Something he missed after he'd had it once.

You planted your palms down on either side of his torso, leaning towards him in a way that ignited his many feelings of finally indulging in what it might feel like to touch you. Something he still wasn't committed to doing before this work was done. But he couldn't ignore this anymore. The want for you now gnawed at him more than this workload.

He rose slightly, propping up on his elbows as he looked up to you in the dark. Your hand gently petted his chest and he felt the fire in his belly that had been burning since the moment he first saw you. He sat up straight, keeping his eyes up as finally he let his hands touch you more intentional and slow when he wrapped your legs around him.

Your ankles locked behind him, and your face softened realizing that he wasn't holding back now. He was letting go slowly. He wet his lips as he held your waist against him, making you wrap your arms around him too when your heart raced in the thought of actually kissing him.

He held your chin, taking the last breath he needed to convince himself to do something this crazy. Your lips met almost unsurely, he stopped only for another second before he finally let himself close his eyes. You kissed him gently at first until his hands shook as they cupped around your curves from behind, gripping the roundness of your ass when he felt it under your slip.

Softly, you moaned as he poured more of himself into the embrace and your fingers tangled into his bedhead. His mouth was soft like petals on the inside of a flower and your heart felt soft too at their touch. You breathed heavily and felt as his mouth moved low, kissing under your jaw then lower to your neck.

He rested his forehead in the center of your chest, not willing to move forward because he knew he'd have you all night…. and into the morning. The desire was too strong. His breath was panting from the labor his heart was performing to beat so quickly. You held him against you to steady him, feeling yourself begin to shake now in a sense of amazement.

“I'm doing this for you-” He said in the quiet between you and the silence only met with both of your racing pulses,

“Fuck the city. Fuck the mayor- I just don't wanna sleep…. knowing there's someone out there waiting to put you next on their list. And I'm not gonna stop until they're cuffed or dead. Whichever's fastest.”

Your brow furrowed from the sincerity he had and you tried not to let your lip quiver. In your line of work, you were always thrown away after use. One face to the next and here you sat in the lap of someone wanting to save you again and again. You half smiled, nodding in understanding that if in fact you were falling in love with him before this, you had in fact fallen face first now.

He thought you must've been stuck on what to say before you brought your hands up to his face. Your thumbs brushed his cheek as you said murmured and soft,

“You're gonna have a lot more to worry about if you keep talking to me like that. Like how you're ever gonna peel me offa you after you nab this guy.”

“I think I could convince you.” Leon mentioned with a growing smile to finally participate in the back and forth of your playful banter as he looked to your lips again, growing needful for another kiss.

“Yeah?-” You asked before obliging him with a flirtatious wink as you leaned in to kiss him,

“You'll need a warrant, pig.”

He chuckled amidst your hurried kiss now, making you hum happily in the enjoyment of feeling his smile against your lips. He felt calmer already. Your kiss and your heat to warm him was like a heal-all. As you felt him level back to reality, you knew you wanted this always and it felt burned into you like a brand now.

You wondered in that moment, unbeknownst to him, if maybe you had the chance to be the woman warming his bed, awaiting his retirement - riding through the peak of his career. Because tonight felt like a taste. And there was no amount of money that could buy it. Even if you worked in that club as hard as he did in this room. 》

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Haunted: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: This is Hotch's first case back since being stabbed by Foyet. As much as he says he's fine, he's not and he's letting his emotions affect the case in a negative way.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"One need not be a chamber to be haunted, one need not to be a house. The brain has corridors surpassing material place." - Emily Dickinson

Spencer isn't used to not being able to do things on his own so helping him get ready for work is a challenge.

"Will you stay still?" you say and grab his pants. 

"I can do it. Give it to me."

"Spencer Walter Reid. Stop moving and let me help you."

He freezes at the mention of his middle name. No one knows it but you, apparently.

"How did you...?"

"I've seen your driver's license. Now sit down and give me your leg."

Spencer sits on the edge of the bed and stretches his bad leg out to you so you can pull his pants on. It's been a month of recovering from both Hotch and Spencer. This is going to be his first day back since getting out of the hospital, and you're not sure how this is gonna go. It could either go horribly wrong and he'll need to take more time off or he'll be back on his feet. Emily wanted to pick Hotch up and drive him to the airport even though he'd been cleared to drive on his own.

With no unit chief in the office, you have a few minutes to yourself so you and Spencer head to Penelope's office to hang with her until Hotch comes in. Spencer hobbles into her office and she pulls up a chair for him.

"Thank you."

"Does it hurt?"

"It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time."

You place your hands on his shoulders from behind and massage his muscles gently.

"Don't worry, I've been very good at distracting him." Penelope laughs as Spencer looks at you with a smile on his face. You lean down and kiss him Spiderman-style. It's becoming one of your favorite positions to kiss him. When you pull away, you rake your fingers through his hair. "When are you gonna let me braid your hair?"

"Never," he says playfully and pushes you off him. Penelope has a box of cookies on the table, and he reaches to grab one but she slaps his hand away and slaps the lid on it. "Hey!"

"These are for Hotch," she says and puts a bucket of lollipops on top of them.

"I get shot in the leg and I don't get any cookies? You know he's gonna hate the attention," Spencer says and grabs a lollipop.

"It's cookies, not cake."

"He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened," you state.

"Well, it doesn't mean we have to."

"I think maybe we should."

"I don't roll that way."

"I've been thinking about the entire time I've known Hotch, I don't think I've ever seen him blink," Spencer says.

"I know. It's weird."

"It's classic alpha male behavior."

"Do you think he stared down Foyet?" Penelope asks fearfully.

"Yes. I saw it. He didn't go down without a fight, that's for sure."

"Do you think he stared the whole time, like with each stab?"

"Yes."

"Is he okay?"

"I wouldn't be, but I'm a blinker," Spencer says, and you kiss the top of his head.

The door opens and JJ walks in with files in her hands.

"Spence, Y/N, there you two are. Grab your go bag."

"What's going on?"

"Turn on the news."

Penelope turns on one of the news channels that's talking about the most recent crime your team is going to investigate.

"Just after eight this morning, forty-year-old Darrin Call, a lifelong resident of Louisville, assaulted customers at the pharmacy on the corner of Main and Truxton Avenue. Eyewitnesses saw him walking east on Main Street minutes after the attack. He has not been seen since then. He was wearing a blue shirt, jeans, and a light-gray jacket. Within the hour, the Governor has called in all sources for a manhunt. Despite these statewide efforts, the suspect has eluded law enforcement. The body count is rising. Three are confirmed dead including an armed bank guard whose gun was used in the attack. Another two remain in critical condition. The assailant is still out there. We are going back to Eric Jennings who's been talking to residents of Louisville residents."

"We're going to Louisville."

"Alright. Bye, Pen."

You get up and escort Spencer out of her office over to his desk. You grab both yours and his bag since he can't carry his own and use his crutches, and you two head out with the team to the airplane. Spencer takes the couch to rest his leg while you take one of the chairs surrounding the small table.

"Our point person in Louisville is Lieutenant Kevin Mitchell," JJ says.

Just then, Hotch and Emily walk onto the plane, and you immediately feel anger coming off Hotch in waves. He has a stoic look on his face like always but the anger is stewing deep down inside him. It's a calm anger and it's all for Foyet.

"Good morning," Hotch greets.

"You look well, sir," Penelope says over video chat.

"Thank you. How long do you have that?" Hotch asks Spencer about his crutches.

"I'm not really sure. Welcome back."

"Thanks. Any other attacks?"

"No, not yet. Call's proven hard to track. He's never had a driver's license, so he's most likely still on foot or public transportation."

"No, he's not gonna take the bus. His face is everywhere," you shake your head.

"Has anyone found a stressor?"

"He just lost his job," Penelope explains. "He's worked at a factory since 1990 making appliances and not a single promotion."

"That's a long time to be bitter."

"Yeah, he's of the hermit variety. As far as I can tell, he's got no one. No wife, no kids, and no parents."

"Nothing to live for. Why hasn't he killed himself yet? Sprees usually end in suicide. If he's got nothing to live for, why hasn't he ended it?"

"He's not finished yet," Spencer answers Hotch. "We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim."

"The stock boy represents someone. We need to know who. Is he military?"

"No."

"He's lashing out for a reason. This guy's got anger, endless targets, and a gun. He's just getting started."

When the plane lands, you go off with Derek and Hotch to the crime scene at the pharmacy while Spencer and JJ head to the police station to get set up. Lieutenant Kevin Mitchell is waiting for them as soon as they walk in, and he's eager to get started. Before your team landed in Louisville, he created checkpoints on the state's lines at both the I-64 and I-65 and within a twenty-mile radius downtown. They think he's still on foot.

Take into consideration the average walking speed of two and a half miles per hour, and it's been just under three hours, then that adds up to an approximate eight-mile radius. First responders started a hard-target search of businesses and residences within that eight miles, and you're going to join them.

The lieutenant dug up all he could on Darrin Call but didn't find much. Me and Rossi are at his apartment so they might be able to find something the police couldn't. The strategy in all of this is to determine where he's headed next in order to stop him. Most spree killers are outwardly aggressive, and Darrin isn't that. He's defensive even if the video doesn't immediately show it.

You watch the video of Darrin over and over again until you see it. Darrin isn't aggressive until someone touches him. That's what set him off. It happens before he stabs someone. He hates being touched which is a trigger for him. 

He never meant to hurt these people, and he never went in there with a weapon. JJ is working with the media to inform them as soon as she possibly can. Darrin's apartment is a five-minute walking distance from the pharmacy but there is no sign at his apartment that he came back to wash off the blood, which means he's still bloody and walking around town like that.

Penelope says he doesn't have any family, so where is he going to go looking like that? He might be messy in the head and in his everyday life, but his apartment is really neat or maybe he's military or hospitalized which means he has the same routine every day.

However, today is different. He killed three people. Why did it change?

The energy left at the pharmacy is astounding. The energy is breaking off into different streams as if it's panicking. Darrin isn't right in the head and he is definitely going to hurt himself sooner rather than later. He's going to piss off the wrong person and get hurt.

"Hotch, he's losing his mind. His mind is tearing itself into pieces. This energy is being pulled apart." Hotch stares straight ahead without giving you any indication that he heard you. "Hotch, did you hear me?"

"Yeah," he nods and walks off.

Hotch isn't okay. Who would be after what he went through?

"Mr. Call was always so quiet. He's been coming here for years," a woman talking to Derek says.

She is the pharmacist responsible for giving out medications to people.

"Has he ever had a run-in with the stock boy?"

"I can't see why he would. John was new here. I waved him over. I didn't know what else to do. No one else was helping."

"He didn't turn violent until you gave him his prescription?" you ask.

"It wasn't his. It was somebody else's. I just wanted him to calm down."

"JJ's press conference is in five minutes," Hotch says when he joins the group.

"Hotch, we might have something else here. Why didn't you give him his own medication?" Derek asks the woman.

"He didn't have any refills left."

"For what?"

"Alprazolam, but he used to be on Thiothixene."

"He was on an antipsychotic?" Hotch asks.

"That's why I wanted him to calm down. He's been off his medications for about a month now."

"When were you gonna tell us this? He's armed and delusional. Who's his doctor?" Hotch asks angrily.

"I don't remember. My computer..."

You turn to see her computer had been damaged in the fight.

"Great," Hotch scoffs and walks off.

"I'm sorry."

You and Derek look at each other because Hotch is completely out of line for this.

"He's not listening to us. I've seen this kind of behavior before. He's not going to want to listen. Not until he catches Foyet." You two walk over to Hotch. "Hotch."

"Call JJ and tell her about the meds."

"This is not her fault and you know it."

"Morgan, he's in a psychotic break. It changes everything."

"Do you want to talk about this?"

"No! I want to find him!" Hotch sighs in frustration and pulls out his phone to call Penelope. "Garcia, he's been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't get his medical records yet, so--"

"Find them. Find everything."

"Yes, sir."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[little-too-late]

i. watch it take its shape

words: 2.4k

warnings: death/murder, mentions of blood, cringe writing

Time. It's a fragile, fickle thing. You could spend a millennium to try and make sense of its ever changing existence within itself, to unravel and change the fate that has long been written. But even then, it could never be enough to understand its complexity.

All there is to understand, what you've grown to come to terms with, is that time is unforgiving. It can muddle the most important parts of your being, bend and shape it into something beyond unrecognizable, no matter how dear you hold onto that part of yourself.

It will never be the same again, forever lost to time, no matter how much you beg it to be. Time is cruel; time eats all his children in the end.

He ate a hole in your being, a gaping emptiness that could never be filled no matter what you did. It taunted you, daring you to be rid of it, relishing in your sorrow as attempt after attempt failed.

You had surrendered to that emptiness long ago, finding shelter in the unrecognizable shell it left behind. No longer did it belong to the young girl who relished in the easier times, who carried love and kindness for the world around her, who could do no wrong.

All that you carried now was the perpetual anger for humanity and its cruel Maker who turned his back on his creations. Who were you to defend its people when even the Maker cared no longer?

You crept into the bandit's den undetected, silently dispatching its inhabitants as you ventured further into the cavern, looking for the item of interest that brought you here in the first place.

There were no hard feelings as you pulled your blade free from the fallen bandit, wiping the blood gathered on your blade on your pant leg, continuing forward as if you hadn't taken a life. You held no remorse for those who killed innocence, who took more than just their lives. It was only fair they ended up in the same pit they dug themselves.

Don't be mistaken, you were not pure of heart either. You've taken from the unsuspecting, used many's backwards thinking to your advantage ("no woman can do no harm"—these were your favorite to manipulate) on numerous occasions.

But that was all in a time before when you felt like it was the only way to get by. When you first arrived in Ru'uan, you had made the rash decision to leave your motherland behind with nothing but what you had on your back; not a single coin to your name.

It took little convincing to turn your back on your morals, especially with how angry you were at the world and yourself. You were vulnerable, malleable enough to be shaped by the shadows, and it was far too easy to fall into in the lifestyle when the city you found on your first arrival was a city known for its crime.

But even as you turned your back on your beliefs, performed deeds that your hands could never be washed free of, nothing you did came close to the things these lowlifes did in the dark. You did the world a favor be-ridding the filth.

You fiddle with a locked chest found in the chief bandit's room, wiggling a lockpick around until you hear that wonderful tune —click. The lock falls the ground, allowing you a peek at the valuables held inside.

Trinkets, odds and ends, that sort of thing. . . nothing that called for your attention. Except,

"There you are." You look over the supposed family heirloom, partially confused as to why they chose such a thing to pass down to their children's children. But then again, it's about the sentimental value the item holds, isn't it?

You shrug, placing the gewgaw into your traveling pack before leaving the bandit's den; satisfied. With the help of your steed, you quickly returned to the city to complete the job you were hired for.

There isn't much you could rave about but the city other than the fact its crime rate is astoundingly high, scaring most interested parties that dare to think about housing the empty lots within its walls.

Not a single body within those walls isn't already influenced by the right amount of coin, and it's because of this that no matter what the guards do to protect their city, crime always finds a way around it.

At least, most guards.

You pat your steed's side as you left him in the care of the stable's horse handler, reassuring him of your quick return with an apple. Only then, did you tune into the conversation between the guard on gate duty and a fresh face.

"Before I let you in, you must pay a visitor's tax." You turn your head at his words, eyes narrowing in vexation.

The woman he had stopped looked to him in confusion, rightly questioning his motivations. "The other cities I've visited didn't ask for a visitor's tax?"

"We aren't other cities, are we?" The guard condescendingly says, the woman recoiling on herself. "You want in?" She nods. "Then you must cooperate!" He finishes, holding out his grubby hand for the demanded coin.

An unwarranted heat spreads throughout your chest as you watched the woman give in to the guards quest, a smug grin forming on his face as she took out her coin pouch. Not only was he ignorant enough to believe he was going to collect his lousy coin, but he was moronic enough to leave his helm behind while on duty.

Any chatter around them came to a startled halt as an embarrassing shriek leaves the man, a tip of a blade staring right back at him, only a centimeter away from blinding his left-eye. "Have you not learned your lesson from the last you pulled this trick, guardsman?" You glare, showing no sign of lowering your weapon, "Or need I remind you?"

"Trick?" The woman echo's. You catch a glimpse of her in the corner of your eye, seemingly surprised how things were playing out in front of her. You click your tongue in annoyance, irritated by her feeble-minded and weak judgement. This city will tear her apart the moment she steps foot through those gates.

"Alright, alright! Keep your voices down, why don't you?" He takes a cautious step back, creating a distance between his eye and your blade. "I'll open the gates, so long as you don't mention this to the lord."

Coward.

"Trust me," you sheath your blade, "it won't be the lord who I'll be speaking with." The guard freezes, your vague words having him fearing for his life, leaving him in an excruciating silence as you entered the city.

Its occupants grew to understand what kind of person you were the moment you arrived through those gates; the qualities you held. It wouldn't be a surprise if you had certain connections to a certain name known throughout the city. "Wait!"

You paid no mind to the woman as she stumbled after you, her clumsy feet kicking up the rubble from beneath them as she matched your pace beside you. "Thank you for helping me back there." She smiles kindly, attempting to open a conversation with you—something you showed no interest in as you remained silent.

"You have an accent. It's nice!" Your brows pinch together at the unnecessary observation, her following question almost stopping you in your trek. "Where's it from?"

The tension in your jaw tightens as you involuntarily think back to the place you once called home, turning to her with an unkind look as you said, "Word of advice; if you cannot see a simple trick such as that one, you will never make it out in the world. Turn around and go home."

Guilt manages to sink its talons into you as you watched the shine in her eyes disappear, her eyes sadden as she turns them down to the ground. You could see it clear as day now. She was everything this city, the world, wasn't. Something it will only break down within time.

You weren't about to stick around and watch that happen. Not again. But, her eyes find that special glow once more, shocking you to a halt. "Oh, I know that now! But I came here looking to hire someone called the. . . Dark Wolf?" Your eye twitches at the name. "Someone from another city mentioned they were the best here and I was hoping if you could—where are you going?" 

Like you said, you weren't about to stick around. So, you did what you did best. You turned your back on her and left.

Past the Merchant's Market, over the bridge, led to more a secluded part of the city. Many avoided coming this way due to the belief it's where most of the darker deeds took place. And although true, for the most part, to others it's where one would come to seek anonymous help for tasks guards didn't dare take up.

No words were exchanged as you met with the person who had given you your recent job, all except for the item of interest and the promised coin. It's what you liked most about being a mercenary. It kept you busy; sane.

Your employer hums in approval as you returned the family heirloom to them, paying no mind to the smear of blood on it. He tosses a pouch of coin to you as he praises, "Didn't expect you to work so fast. Shouldn't have expected anything less from the Dark Wolf, herself."

You wish you could hunt down whoever started spreading that distasteful name around and personally see them to their end. "Pleasure doing business with you." You sourly mumbled as he left, tying the pouch to your waist when you hear movement behind you.

"You're the Dark Wolf?"

You flinch, turning to see the woman who you hoped you lost in the Merchant's Market, but here she was. "Were you following me this whole time?" You questioned, brows cinched at the weirdness of it all. How did you not notice her presence this whole time?

"You left in the middle of our conversation! I was hoping you'd point me in the direction of this 'Dark Wolf', but it turns out you're who I was looking for!" She exclaims, a grin on display. "Small world we live in, huh?”

A heavy sigh leaves past your lips, almost inclined to flat out decline whatever she had to offer, but something nagged at you to listen to what she had to say. "Well? What is it you want to hire me for?" Her eyes light up as she fished for her coin.

"An expedition of some sorts. Is this enough?" Your mouth parts as she presents you a hefty pouch of coin, your hand immediately pushing hers down as you hissed,

"You will get yourself killed flaunting that kind of coin around here!" Her mouth forms an 'o' at your warning, not even thinking about resisting as you grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the meet-point. You frantically looked about for prying eyes that might have been lurking around, eyes that would do anything for some coin (and that didn't exclude murdering the innocent).

"Sorry." She says, now in the comforts of the room you've rented out for when visits lasted longer than expected. Such as this one.

You sat her at the small table placed adjacent from the bed, messaging the spot between your eyes in attempt to relieve the headache forming. You can't believe you were actually considering accepting the job, but if you were to be fair, you would need a good reason not to. "Before I accept, I need more details about this expedition of yours."

She perks up, only really hearing 'I accept'. "What is the end goal?" She stills at your question, adverting her eyes as she thought up something to tell you. She worried if she told you the real truth, you'd see how pointless it was and lose interest in the job. But the truth was all she could speak. "I want to travel throughout Ru'uan in hopes to remember something, anything, from my past."

"Besides my name, I don't remember who I am." Your face draws a blank, leading her to believe you were readying to decline. "You—You said it from the start, I won't make it out there; not by myself! If you could just stick around for a week or two—"

"I accept."

". . . What?"

You clench your jaw, turning away from her shinning eyes. This time around, they didn't shine with happiness (maybe something in relation). No, they shined with tears of relief. Gratefulness. You can't look at her right now. "I said I accept. All I ask for is to receive the first half of the payment now and the rest when you see fit." You answered, packing your belongings for the lengthy trip.

She had watched you pack said things, her heart full as she sat in a stranger's room, who had accepted to help her despite a weird start between them.

"Aphmau."

You still, feeling a never-ending pit in your stomach gape open at the reveal of her name. You guess it was only a matter of time. "My name is Aphmau." She repeats, prompting you to introduce yourself. "What's yours?"

Swallowing down the hard pill, you continue to pack as you answer, "I don't share names."

Aphmau's face contours with confusion, unaware of the weight knowing a name holds for you. "Why's that?" She questions further, curiosity unsatisfied.

"Because with names, comes attachments; attachments you will lose in the end." Silence finds you both once more, your words offering Aphmau something to think about as you moved around the room, keeping yourself busy.

It was by these words that made it clear to Aphmau that there's something from your past that haunts you till this day. It forced you to become closed-off, creating a troubling distance between you and anyone you meet.

She knew it wouldn't be anytime soon you'd be willing to be open with her, but deep down she hoped out of the goodness of her heart, that one day you'd be comfortable enough to do so. Whether it be with her or someone you meet along the way; she wishes nothing nothing but the best.

[kfkr1ze]

Escape from S - Chapter 2

Characters — ✈︎ Renga, Ten, Kafka, Liguang, Yukikaze, Yachiyo

Location: HAMA House Living Room

Ten: (It may have taken until dawn, but that job was pretty good for a one time job. Aah, I’m so sleepy…)

Mm…

………

(Who’s here?)

Renga: W-Welcome back, Ten.

Ten: …Renga-san. Your face looks like you’ve been up all night. What are you doing here?

Renga: I was waiting for you…! I did fall asleep on the sofa at some point though.

……

Y’know, yesterday, your ex-girlfriends chased you out the store after you leftーー

Ten: Ah～ My bad for dragging you into my issues yesterday. Do you know what happened after they left?

Renga: No, that's…

Ten: I actually met up with them again after that〜 The 3 of us hit it off pretty well I’d say? We were up having so much fun that I ended up coming home pretty late.

Renga: ……!

Ten: (If I say that, then he can’t pry anymore, right?)

Theen, night〜. I’m gonna go to sleep since I didn’t get to last night, so don’t wake me up before afternoon hits please.

Renga: Ah…

Renga: ………

Location: HAMA House Tiger Room

Ten: (Sighs. He was waiting there for me like a earnest dog.)

(Well, it was easy for me to get around it, since he believes anything he hears…)

Ten: (My phone…? God, who’s calling at this time…?)

……Chief?

Yeah, I was sleeping just now…

Eh? The Morning Squad has to meet ASAP?

Location: HAMA House Meeting Space

Yachiyo: Hwawawawa… This is the start of a legend!

No, we already have one, but HAMA Tours is gonna make another legend!! I c-can’t help but get excitedddd!!!

Liguang: Hey, stop moving. You’re going to break something.

Kaede: If you headbang that much, you’re going to end up hurting your neck!

Yukikaze: Rather, the fact that he’s been going for 5 minutes… Yachiyo’s bones are actually pretty strong huh. That’s amazing.

Ten: Uh, I came because of the call but…　Everyone seems to be a bit excited? What happened?

Kafka: Ah, it seems everyone arrived.  Then, let’s get started with this discussion. 

Kaede: Ten-kun, you might not be surprised to hear this, but…

Morning Squad has been invited to appear on live TV!!!!

Ten: …Huh?

Yachiyo: Everyone was invited to appear on that super popular TV program, “Escape from S”ーーOr “Es・S” for short～!!

Ten: “Es・S” …It’s that thing isn’t it? That live program where you try to escape some searchers within the time limit to get some prize money, right?

Kafka: Correct. The main reason it’s so popular is because it has heated escape scenes and the mystery you get to solve is changed with each visit.

Even the “Normal Clear” is hard to achieve on its own, but there’s also a “True Clear” that you can achieve by completing a variety of missions. You already know about that too, right Ten?

Ten: Refresh my memory?

Kafka: The reward for a True Clear is the ability to produce a commercial for free and air it during the golden hour.

For HAMA’s future development, and for the sake of HAMA Tours as well, we have to do it, right? ♪

Yukikaze: Yes. I’ll do my best for both Chief, as well as Kafka and the others.

Liguang: …Sighs. I think it’s obvious that appearing on TV is a hassle, though.

Ten: (Ah, nice Ligaung-san. Keep talking about that please.)

Liguang: However, if the profit is worth that hassle, I can see why Oguro would want to go through with that plan.

Ten: (Oh my. Turns out I couldn’t rely on that. Even just being a Ward Mayor is a lot of exposure as is, so this would definitely be a pain.)

I mean, why were we even invited in the first place?

It’s not a program that’s known for being open to the public for performers, right? The rewards for the True Clear clearly aren't open for just anyone either.

Don’t tell me that the Pres has been pulling the strings for this plan?

Kafka: That’s wrong. This time, Renga was the one who suggested it.

Ten: Renga-san did?

Renga: ………

Ten: (Right right. I could see his depressing face staring at me from the corner of my eye this whole time. What’s up with that?)

Renga: Um, y’know, Ten!

I… s-saw you… last night…!

Ten: ………

(Hah?)

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[angel4astraea]

꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ft. . neuvillette, lil bit of furina ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ content warning(s). . smutty content below which includes spanking, degrading words, exhibitionism, masochism, d/s elements. ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ word count. . 1.35k ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ author's note. . i'm finally get into this! it's based on a previous post of mine ;)

it had been a busy day within the court room, many coming and going with their sentences and some out the doors scott-free. among the few that watched was neuvillette, the chief justice of fontaine. he was silent most times, only speaking when there was something that needed to be said. his brooding height and stone cold face had frightened off most workers but not you.

you were his little assistant, if you could call yourself that. you sat next to him during these long sessions of court, listening to pleads, shitty explanations and cockiness from those who stood on the ground below the balconies. though, past your job, you were his wife--not by choice though. a contract was filled by your father, who supplies precious metals and items to keep the city moving. it had been a few years since your unwanted marriage, and it had been a decent enough one. though, neuvillette held his private life in when talking to others, preferring to keep the little secrets and sights to himself.

a little secret had been hiding in your plush walls, a plug that no longer felt like it was stretching you like earlier when you begged him to let you be good and not wear it. but he insisted, saying it matched your formal attire. every once in a while, you'd shift in your seat, breath hitching and face flustered from the sensation. of course, he noted every reaction mentally, eyes glancing over at you a few times. after it got unbearable, the tears of frustration rested on your lower lashline, eyes pleading for him to do something. . anything. he made no attempt at moving or addressing the little issue, shrugging you off. that was until you grasped his hand and pulled it to your thighs. that was a big no-no.

neuvillette's eyes shifted to you, shooting a warning look your way. "be patient." he spoke lightly, yet sternly. his furrowed eyebrows soon relaxed as he looked back down at the subjects, focusing on their words once again. how much longer was this going to be? hopefully not long. the need for release after the bulbous ridge of the plug hit a patchy spot within, further frustrating you. his hand had returned the chair, ignoring you.

with a huff, you looked around and noticed no staff members were around. your fingers slowly inched towards the end of your skirt, fingertips stroking where your clit was hidden underneath the underwear you wore. the fabric felt damp against your skin, the uncomfortable feeling between your legs throbbing once again. though, you applied pressure, breath hitching. you hoped he hadn't noticed but neuvillette noticed everything. he was an observant man in general, piercing eyes staring at your movements. his nostrils flared in irritation, his other hand gripping the handle of his cane. you were screwed, so very screwed.

his eyes met yours, squinting. your fingers left your panties, resting on your lap now. that stare had sent a shiver down your spine, muscles tensing. uh oh.

neuvillette's gloved hands rested on his cane as he stood up from his seat. the trial was now finished but that didn't mean he was finished with giving punishments. his eyes narrowed in on you, jaw firm and clenched tightly. he had been fed up with your disobedience and finally, there was enough time to properly discipline you.

neuvillette however, had little patience left. when the audience below had all left their seats, leaving the opera house empty, that's when cane nudged your leg. "get up. lean over the balcony, i believe it's time for your trial." he crossed one leg over the other, hardened stare piercing into your flesh. ". .trial? but-" you stopped, mouth agape. silently, you stood from your seat and bent over the balcony, looking back at your husband. he furrowed his eyebrows softly, mouth downturned slightly. "look forwards." you did so, staring ahead at where furina was still sitting, head leaned on head left hand. your face turned red, eyes widening with surprise. the hydro archon is going to watch?

"do you accept the charges of inappropriate public conduct, mrs. name?" neuvillette's breath hit the back of your neck as he spoke, voice low and firm, just like how he would speak to anyone. your thighs squeezed together, the thrill of being caught by the public but also being observed by furina producing a rather timid response from you. "i do." you said quietly, eyes focusing on the balcony across from where you stood.

neuvillette stood up and sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other once again. "it is factual that you had disobeyed directions by a superior, is that correct?" he spoke, fingers wrapped around the handle of his cane. a moment went by before you spoke, "yes, your honour. however, given the-" your words were cut off by the tip of his cane lifting the edge of your skirt, peering at the wet spot left on your panties. "continue." he then lightly tapped your right thigh with the cane, returning to the hem of your skirt. "given the nature of the situation, perhaps it was justifiable?" you spread your legs less than an inch, feeling the cool wood and metal press against your covered cunt.

with a grunt, neuvillette removed the object, placing the end on the floor. "impossible conclusion." he began, "you know the laws of this nation, alongside the rules between man and wife. yet, you challenged them in front of not only myself, but the hydro archon and possibly the audience below." the oratrice's left side tilted heavily to the left, signifying that neuvillette's points were quite valid and strong. with a soft sigh, you bow your head down and think. "that is true, however, your honour, you have plugged me with the intent to tease. isn't it rational that i have acted such a way after hours?" the oratrice moved slightly to the right. good, your point was strong.

the man behind you was silent as he placed his hand on his chin in thought. then he cleared his throat and lifted his cane to press it against your covered core. "then explain why you couldn't ask properly at an appropriate time? as you know the guidelines, it does not excuse your public behaviour. anything else to say?" neuvillette pressed the butt of the cane into your core more, watching as your thighs shook and closed together. the plug had somehow nuzzled itself further, drawing a heavy breath from your chest. "nothing more, your honour."

"then let us receive the oratrice's decision." the opera's walls and ceiling flashed a blue colour, shining over the balcony and seats. the small piece of paper rose from an opening, neuvillette taking it out and reading aloud, "guilty."

your head lifted to look at furina. she wore a smug grin, the leg that was crossed over her other bouncing. it must've been quite a show for her since it was very rare that she got insight on his marriage to you.

"you know what must happen now, correct?" neuvillette spoke up, gesturing for you to remove both your skirt and panties. you nodded silently, undoing your skirt and sliding it down your legs, panties following suit. your sticky cunt still held the plug that was nuzzled in your walls but threatened to slip out at any moment. you clenched around it, attempting to keep it in as neuvillette's cane brushed your bum. "count."

the first strike of his cane hit your cheeks, leaving a line of pink and a stinging sensation on your skin. "one!" a satisfied hum came from the rather tall man behind you, arm raised to repeat the action. again and again, he swung the cane onto your cheeks, lines and welts of pink and red forming over time, slowly turning purple. by the time it hit thirty, his hands cupped your left bum cheek softly, content with his work.

"your sentencing is over, mon cherie."

"yet i believe our archon is still intrigued. shall we let her decide if justice was served this time?"

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich:: GOP strategy in its totality

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 18, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Sep 19, 2024

Today, at a White House reception in celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month, President Joe Biden said: "We don't demonize immigrants. We don't single them out for attacks. We don't believe they're poisoning the blood of the country. We're a nation of immigrants, and that's why we're so damn strong."

Biden’s celebration of the country’s heritage might have doubled as a celebration of the success of his approach to piloting the economy out of the ravages of the pandemic. Today the Fed cut interest rates a half a point, a dramatic cut indicating that it considers inflation to be under control. Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen has maintained that it would be possible to slow inflation without causing a recession—a so-called soft landing—and she appears to have been vindicated.

Federal Reserve chief Jerome Powell said: “The labor market is in solid condition, and our intention with our policy move today is to keep it there. You can say that about the whole economy: The US economy is in good shape. It’s growing at a solid pace, inflation is coming down. The labor market is at a strong pace. We want to keep it there. That’s what we’re doing.”

Powell, whom Trump first appointed to his position, said, “We do our work to serve all Americans. We’re not serving any politician, any political figure, any cause, any issue, nothing. It’s just maximum employment and price stability on behalf of all Americans.”

Powell was anticipating accusations from Trump that his cutting of rates was an attempt to benefit Harris before the election. Indeed, Jeff Stein of the Washington Post reported that Trump advisor Steven Moore called the move “jaw-dropping. There's no reason they couldn't do 25 now and 25 right after the election. Why not wait till then?” Moore added, "I'm not saying [the] reduction isn't justified—it may well be and they have more data than I do. But i just think, 'why now?’” Alabama senator Tommy Tuberville called the cut “shamelessly political.” 

The New Yorker’s Philip Gourevitch noted that “Trump has been begging officials worldwide not to do the right thing for years to help rig the election for him—no deal in Gaza, no defense of Ukraine, no Kremlin hostages release, no border deal, no continuing resolution, no interest rate cuts etc—just sabotage & subterfuge.”

That impulse to focus on regaining power rather than serving the country was at least part of what was behind Republican vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance’s lie about Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio. That story has gotten even darker as it turns out Vance and Trump received definitive assurances on September 9 that the rumor was false, but Trump ran with it in the presidential debate of September 10 anyway. Now, although it has been made very clear—including by Republican Ohio governor Mike DeWine—that the Haitian immigrants in Springfield are there legally, Vance told a reporter today that he personally considers the programs under which they came illegal, so he is still “going to call [a Haitian migrant] an illegal alien.”

The lies about those immigrants have so derailed the Springfield community with bomb threats and public safety concerns that when the Trump campaign suggested Trump was planning a visit there, the city’s Republican mayor, Rob Rue, backed by DeWine, threw cold water on the idea. “It would be an extreme strain on our resources. So it’d be fine with me if they decided not to make that visit,” Rue said. Nonetheless, tonight, Trump told a crowd in Long Island, New York, that he will go to Springfield within the next two weeks. 

The false allegation against Haitian immigrants has sparked outrage, but it has accomplished one thing for the campaign, anyway: it has gotten Trump at least to speak about immigration—which was the issue they planned to campaign on—rather than Hannibal Lecter, electric boats, and sharks, although he continues to insist that “everyone is agreeing that I won the Debate with Kamala.” Trump, Vance, and Republican lawmakers are now talking more about policies.

In the presidential debate of September 10, Trump admitted that after nine years of promising he would release a new and better healthcare plan than the Affordable Care Act in just a few weeks, all he really had were “concepts of a plan.” Vance has begun to explain to audiences that he intends to separate people into different insurance pools according to their health conditions and risk levels. That business model meant that insurers could refuse to insure people with pre-existing conditions, and overturning it was a key driver of the ACA.

Senate and House Republicans told Peter Sullivan of Axios that if they regain control of the government, they will work to get rid of the provision in the Inflation Reduction Act that permits the government to negotiate with pharmaceutical companies over drug prices. Negotiations on the first ten drugs, completed in August, will lower the cost of those drugs enough to save taxpayers $6 billion a year, while those enrolled in Medicare will save $1.5 billion in out-of-pocket expenses. 

Yesterday Trump promised New Yorkers that he would restore the state and local tax deduction (SALT) that he himself capped at $10,000 in his 2017 tax cuts. In part, the cap was designed to punish Democratic states that had high taxes and higher government services, but now he wants to appeal to voters in those same states. On CNBC, host Joe Kernan pointed out that this would blow up the deficit, but House speaker Mike Johnson said that the party would nonetheless consider such a measure because it would continue to stand behind less regulation and lower taxes.

In a conversation with Arkansas governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders, his former press secretary, Trump delivered another stream of consciousness commentary in which he appeared to suggest that he would lower food prices by cutting imports. Economics professor Justin Wolfers noted: “I'm exhausted even saying it, but blocking supply won't reduce prices, and it's not even close.” Sarah Longwell of The Bulwark added, “Tell me more about why you have to vote for Trump because of his ‘policies.’”

Trump has said he supports in vitro fertilization, or IVF, as have a number of Republican lawmakers, but today, 44 Republican senators once again blocked the Senate from passing a measure protecting it. The procedure is in danger from state laws establishing “fetal personhood,” which give a fertilized egg all the rights of a human being as established by the Fourteenth Amendment. That concept is in the 2024 Republican Party platform.

Trump has also demanded that Republicans in Congress shut down the government unless a continuing resolution to fund the government contains the so-called SAVE Act requiring people to show proof of citizenship when registering to vote. Speaker Johnson continues to suggest that undocumented immigrants vote in elections, but it is illegal for even documented noncitizens to do so, and Aaron Reichlin-Melnick of the nonprofit American Immigration Council notes that even the right-wing Heritage Foundation has found only 12 cases of such illegal voting in the past 40 years.

Johnson brought the continuing resolution bill with the SAVE Act up for a vote today. It failed by a vote of 202 to 220. If the House and then the Senate don’t pass a funding bill, the government will shut down on October 1.

Republican endorsements of the Harris-Walz ticket continue to pile up. On Monday, six-term representative Bob Inglis (R-SC) told the Charleston City Paper that “Donald Trump is a clear and present danger to the republic” and said he would vote for Harris. “If Donald Trump loses, that would be a good thing for the Republican Party,” Inglis said. “Because then we could have a Republican rethink and get a correction.” 

George W. Bush’s attorney general Alberto Gonzales, conservative columnist George Will, more than 230 former officials for presidents George H.W. Bush and George W. Bush, and 17 former staff members for Ronald Reagan have all recently added their names to the list of those supporting Harris. Today more than 100 Republican former members of Congress and national security officials who served in Republican administrations endorsed Harris, saying they “firmly oppose the election of Donald Trump.” They cited his chaotic governance, his praising of enemies and undermining allies, his politicizing the military and disparaging veterans, his susceptibility to manipulation by Russian president Vladimir Putin, and his attempt to overthrow democracy. They praised Harris for her consistent championing of “the rule of law, democracy, and our constitutional principles.” 

Yesterday, singer-songwriters Billie Eilish, who has 119 million followers on Instagram, and Finneas, who has 4.2 million, asked people to register and to vote for Harris and Walz. “Vote like your life depends on it,” Eilish said, “because it does.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Okay, so I had posted the idea of a D.E.B.S. AU with HenRen as the main characters and BuckTommy as the side couple, and I sort of wrote it? Idk if I'll put this up on AO3. I'm not sure if anyone but me wanted this. But, enjoy! 🥰

NOW YOU CAN READ IT ON AO3 TOO!

There is a secret test hidden within the SAT. This test does not measure a student’s aptitude at reading, writing, and arithmetic. It measures a student’s innate ability to lie, cheat, fight, and kill. Those who score well are recruited into a secret paramilitary academy. Some call them seductresses. Some call them spies. Fools call them innocent. They call themselves, D.E.B.S.

*****

“Attention! Emergency Alert!” blasted the voice of Chief Simpson as Hen Wilson, valedictorian of the prestigious, the infamous, the secretive D.E.B.S. program practically – okay, so maybe she fell out of her bed, “That means report right now! Right this second! You have no time to sleep, people! Go, go, go! And I mean now!”

Hen wouldn’t say that this was usually how she liked to wake up. However, she had become accustomed to the routine over her three years in the program.

“The world might be destroyed while you nap! I need you guys up! Let’s go! I want everybody up!”

It was almost background noise as her muscle memory got her into her uniform and began to pack her bags before she could even realize what she was doing. In the distance, Hen could vaguely hear a phone ringing, but that wasn’t her problem, probably.

She needed to prep for the day.

“Move it, move it! Everybody in the house!”

“Hen, it’s for you,” said Buck as he handed her the phone.

“What?” said Hen as she looked down at the screen to see her most recent ex, Eva Mathis, on the other end, “Eva? No. No! I’m not – I’m not talking about this anymore.”

Hen ended the call on their home phone, continuing to prepare for the day.

Hen had broken up with Eva. It had been a long time coming. Something wasn’t it. They didn’t mesh. Maybe at first, things were exciting and passionate, but there was something missing there.

Something joyful.

And Hen wasn’t sure if she could stay in a relationship that fell into turbulence way more often than it was solid. Hen couldn’t live like that anymore. She wanted something, well. Not easy. But she wanted someone who didn’t feel like oil and water. Someone who wanted more than this constant cycle of fighting then makeup sex.

Hen grabbed her backpack – only for Eva to call on Hen’s cell.

Hen picked up.

“Eva, seriously, it’s not a good time,” said Hen as she heard Simpson counting down from ten on the house speakers.

Hen ended the call on her cellphone as she slung her backpack over her shoulder… only for Eva to Facetime. Again. On Hen’s iPad of all things!

“When? When is a good time?” asked Eva desperately.

And Hen knew these were the signs. Of Eva getting Hen to let her crawl back to Hen. But Hen was finally breaking the cycle. She was saying no to this relationship. She had told Chimney she wasn’t going to do this anymore. She had told herself. She was finally going to strive for something else.

A healthier relationship.

“Stop calling,” said Hen as she ended the call once more.

“Hen!” yelled Buck from probably the foyer of the house Hen shared with three other D.E.B.S. – Buck, Eddie, and Chimney.

Shit.

Hen was probably the last ready. Being the best in her year didn’t mean she was the most punctual, unfortunately.

“I’m coming!” yelled Hen as – as her smart watch began ringing.

“After everything we’ve been through?” asked Eva, crying all the crocodile tears in the world as she lashed out, “I guess nobody’s good enough for Little Miss Perfect Score.”

“Goodbye, Eva,” said Hen as she ended the call on her phone and ran down the stairs.

“Three… two… one!” called Simpson over the speakers of Hen’s home just as she and the other agents made it out of their house.

They hopped into their car as Eddie got into the driver’s seat.

“We’re going to be late,” said Chimney.

“No, we’re not. I’ve got this,” said Eddie, the Chevelle speeding almost at mock speed.

Hen quickly put her seatbelt on as Eddie swerved through traffic; a school bus honking as they cut in front of them; people yelling as Eddie snaked through lanes and barely made lights.

This.

Felt like the right time to announce her new singlehood, right?

Why not?

“I broke up with Eva!” yelled Hen into the sounds of very angry traffic.

“What?” asked Buck from the back.

“I broke up with Eva!” yelled Hen even louder.

“Oh my god, why?” asked Eddie, who sounded more curious than brokenhearted by the news.

Maybe because it had taken so long for Hen to reach her last straw.

“She’s just – she’s not good for me. I want something more in life, you know?” said Hen as Eddie made a sharp right turn, barreling toward their campus, “Someone better.”

“Good,” said Chimney, “She was an ass.”

“Yeah, she kind of was,” agreed Buck.

“I just wasn’t in love with her,” said Hen, “I finally realized I wasn’t in love with her.”

“What?” called Buck from the back.

Eddie parked, all noise seeming to abruptly stop as Hen loudly pronounced, “I said, I want to be in love!”

And.

The whole campus was staring at her now.

Great.

They all got out of the Chevelle, making their way into the academy that they had come to know for the last three years.

D.E.B.S. Academy.

“Hen,” called Chief Simpson, gesturing for Hen and her fellow housemates to come over and into his office.

Chief Simpson had long since put up his grappling hook and night vision goggles, focusing on teaching the next generation of spies at the Academy, though, there were rumors that he had taken the job to accrue influence amongst the up-and-coming spies of tomorrow.

“We have a special guest with us,” said Chief Simpson as, via hologram, a woman known only as Councilwoman Ortiz appeared before them.

The name was merely a moniker. Councilwoman Ortiz had worn many a name as an undercover operative. She was supposedly one of the best of the best in terms of alumni from the Academy, But something felt – off about her. She seemed colder than Hen thought she would be. A little detached. Hen wondered if that was what all spies became, in the end.

Empty.

Do you want to be a spy?

The question whispered in the back of Hen’s mind once again. An unending question that seemed to loop. It used to be such a tiny voice, but it had grown louder by the year, by the month, by the day now.

Was this what Hen wanted?

Did Hen want to live in subterfuge for the rest of her life? Turn out like Ortiz?

“Councilwoman Ortiz,” said Hen, straightening up.

“She never comes down here,” said Buck excitedly.

“Agents,” said Ortiz.

“I just want to say what a pleasure it is to meet you,” said Chimney before Ortiz cut him off with the raising of her hand.

“No time for pleasantries,” said Ortiz as she turned her attention to Simpson, “A matter of some urgency has come to my attention. Karen Mars is back in the States.”

“Dios,” whispered Eddie, “Wait. Who?”

“Oh, shit,” said Buck.

“You’re kidding,” said Hen excitedly, “I’m writing my thesis on her!”

She really was. She was writing her term paper for her “Capes and Capers: Gender Reconstruction and the Criminal Mastermind” class on one Karen Mars. It was a hard topic to cover. There was only anecdotal evidence on Karen. No one had ever actually spoken to Karen and lived to tell the tale supposedly, but Hen was enraptured.

Transfixed.

So much so that she found herself losing nights in the sparse accounts on Karen Mars.

Technically, Hen’s thesis was on the hypothesis that as a woman operating in a male-dominated field, Karen felt the need to overcompensate by being exponentially bolder and more diabolical in her schemes than her established male counterparts, but the more Hen researched the woman, well, the less she felt like Hen had grounds to stand by that hypothesis.

There was something about Karen Mars.

And.

Hen had.

Okay, well, maybe Hen had a bit of a crush on Karen Mars.

Who wouldn’t? Karen Mars was a genius. She was one of the smartest, best villains out there. She was running circles around everyone, no matter what side.

Ortiz raised an eyebrow at Hen, as if… suspicious of Hen’s enthusiasm.

That didn’t feel particularly great.

“I expect to be kept in the loop on this one,” said Ortiz, looking straight at Hen.

Hen flinched.

“Let’s show some hustle,” continued Ortiz with a strained smile that didn’t reach her eyes before she allowed her hologram to dissipate.

“Wow,” said Chimney, not sounding all that impressed by Ortiz.

“I can’t believe she’s back,” said Hen, stunned.

“Who’s Karen Mars?” asked Eddie, a little out of the loop.

“Karen Mars,” said Buck dramatically, and okay, a little excitedly as Chief Simpson pulled out the stats on Karen Mars on his big screen, “Little is known about her backstory other than, after the dust settled in the decade-long feud between the Reynold Crime Syndicate and the Schaffers, it was Karen Mars who was there to collect the keys of the kingdom in the power vacuum. While connected to many illegal activities, her specialty is meteor theft. Space rocks, whether they fell from the sky or were brought back from the moon or – ”

“Mars,” said Hen with a smile.

“Yup! Mars!” said Buck, nodding his head vigorously.

“But isn’t she protected by, like, a loyal band of mercenaries,” Chimney pointed out, “Led by, uh. I think his name’s Tommy?”

“Tommy?” said Buck, as he stared at the photos displayed of the man and… was Hen seeing things?

Was Buck checking Tommy’s photos out?

“… Buck?” asked Hen, bringing Buck back to the conversation.

“Right! It is believed Karen Mars was behind the plot to sink Australia. Three attempts have been made to apprehend her. All failed,” said Buck, and he sounded more fascinated by Karen, maybe even impressed, than anything else, “She went underground and has not been seen or heard from since."

"Yikes,” said Eddie.

“That’s not even the bad part,” said Hen, knowing all this information already.

“What’s the bad part?” asked Eddie.

“No one has fought her and lived to tell about it,” said Buck, and it sounded like the conclusion of a ghost story.

“So, why do you think she’s back in town?” asked Chimney as he glanced between the group and Hen.

And.

Okay.

She could see it. Chimney gauging how Hen was feeling about this discussion. Which was ridiculous. Just because Hen was a little obsessed with the supervillain didn’t mean she was – she was going to be jealous about Karen visiting someone else in town.

Or.

That she wanted to be that person Karen was visiting or anything.

Not that.

Not that Hen would be against that. For. Uh. For thesis purposes, of course.

“Our intel suggests that she’s in town to meet this woman. Lucy Donato,” said Chief Simpson as he pulled up the criminal record of one Lucy Donato, “Master thief. Alleged ‘heart stealer’, if the dating profile she has up is factual. Freelance pilot for the worst of the worst.”

Hen.

Okay, there wasn’t really much Hen could say about Lucy Donato. She seemed cool. And she flew planes. And she stole hearts. And she had a great smile.

Hen could have a great smile too.

Scratch that, Hen did have a great smile. A fantastic smile.

Hen wasn’t annoyed that Karen was meeting up with Lucy.

“Find out what Lucy is up to. Strictly surveillance,” announced Chief Simpson, finally giving the four of them their mission, “Do not try to apprehend her yourselves. Hen, you’re in charge. Chimney, you’re second. And, D.E.B.S., be careful.”

And just like that, Chief Simpson disappeared; a hologram himself.

Hen found herself staring at the photos of Lucy Donato and Karen Mars up on the screen.

“What does a recluse criminal want with a freelance pilot?” asked Hen, the entire situation rubbing her the wrong way.

*****

Karen Mars stared at the information on Lucy Donato.

She seemed… nice enough.

Winning smile.

Great personality from the looks of it.

Criminal record as long as the Eiffel Tower.

Lucy Donato made sense for Karen. Lucy Donato wasn’t necessarily a bad idea for a first date in a long while, as far as dates went.

But it wasn’t as if Karen had asked to go on this date.

Tommy Kinard, the guy who got Karen this date in the first place, wandered over behind Karen, staring at the screen too.

“You’re scheduled meet, 2000 hours,” said Tommy helpfully, “Melton tipped us. Said she was available. She’s in from Prague. Relocating stateside.”

“A freelance pilot?” asked Karen, a little confused.

Tommy shrugged.

“I know a lot of pilots,” said Tommy, and Karen laughed.

Tommy Kinard was a wall of muscle, deadpan humor to make the gallows question themselves, and all teddy bear once Karen got to know him. She had picked him up after the army had spat him out whole just like the space program did to Karen due to Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and they had been best friends ever since.

Not that Karen had been asking her best friend to set her up on a blind date.

Karen sighed.

“Where’s the meet?” asked Karen.

“Les Deux Amours,” said Tommy, and Karen could hear the sparkles and rom-com in his tone, “Trendy, yet discreet.”

The man loved a good romance novel and it showed sometimes.

And Karen was staring that down right now.

Staring at this woman.

Who could possibly be her next girlfriend if Karen really wanted that.

And.

And.

And, Karen really did have better things to do. She shouldn’t be wasting her time on dates.

“Cancel it,” said Karen as she stood up and strode away.

“Why?” asked Tommy as he walked quickly to catch up with Karen, “It’s all set up.”

“I don’t do blind dates,” said Karen with a shrug.

Because.

Maybe she wasn’t ready for this. Maybe she wasn’t up to dipping a toe into the dating scene just yet.

“Well, it’s not a blind date if you know what they look like,” offered Tommy, and, okay, maybe he was right about that, but Karen still felt like this was a blind date.

“Tell her I’m not coming,” said Karen, actively running away from the very idea of this date, “Say – say I came down with something.”

Because.

Karen could put this off a little longer.

She didn’t need to go on a date just yet.

“Karen, it’s been two years,” said Tommy, “You have to get out there.”

“I am out there,” hedged Karen like a liar, “I went out with that drummer, the girl that talked loud.”

Karen hated her.

But she went out with her.

“You didn’t go out with her. We all went out together,” Tommy pointed out, which was true, but still, “Then, you lied and said you had food poisoning and you went home early.”

And Tommy didn’t mean this as you have to date.

Karen knew that.

But she still felt a little cornered as she countered defensively, “Yeah, well, she talked really loud, even when you were right next to her.”

Which was annoying. And Tommy nodded, agreeing, but Karen could see the but in his eyes. The worry that came from a good place.

And Karen liked that about her best friend, her top henchman, but still.

Still.

Karen felt antsy about this.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” Tommy said, calling Karen out rightfully; not unkindly; softer than how he might usually, even, “You’re trying to drown yourself in your little schemes to destroy the world, but you need to get over it. You were dumped.”

“I was not dumped,” Karen lied again, not wanting to think about that.

“You were dumped hard,” said Tommy, “And that sucks. You took time off to go to Antarctica.”

“Reykjavik,” she said, giving Tommy what he really wanted and turning to face his annoying, smiling face, and – okay, Karen was smiling a bit too, “It’s in Iceland.”

And that came out more as a whine than more information.

“But now it’s time to get back in the game, Karen,” said Tommy, “You’ve got a fun, easy breezy date tonight with a freelance pilot who likes walks on the beach – ”

Karen laughed.

“Really?”

“Yes. Really. Check her Villain & Me profile. You’re going on this nothing date. You’re going to get dressed in something fun and not think about sinking England into the ocean for a few hours and you’re gonna show up.”

Tommy placed his hands on Karen’s shoulders.

“Karen.”

Karen.

Karen nodded, agreeing.

She could go on a nothing date. Tommy had been there through thick and thin over the years for Karen, she could do this for Tommy.

“Fine,” Karen groaned as she nodded, “Okay, I’ll go. I’ll be there.”

“Just promise me you’ll be open. It doesn’t have to happen, but you know – be open to it.”

“Open to what?”

“Open to love.”

Karen.

Sighed.

And, okay, that wasn’t that big of an ask.

“Fine,” said Karen faux-begrudgingly, “I’ll be open to love.”

*****

Karen sat in the car, just… staring out at the restaurant.

“You can do this,” said Tommy, trying to pump up his best friend.

Because he was a good best-friend-slash-top-henchman. And Karen was not ready for this date.

“Why is it that I can hold the world hostage but I’m scared of going on a blind date?” asked Karen as she shifted in her seat.

“Because love is harder than crime,” Tommy said simply.

And.

Karen laughed.

“Yeah. Maybe it is,” said Karen, opening her car door anyway.

“It is. Now, knock them dead. But not really.”

“Sure,” said Karen.

Who.

Took a deep breath in.

Exhaled.

And.

Walked into Les Deux Amours. The place was filled with the baddest of the bad; villains out on date nights and anniversaries. Karen, a woman of many talents, zeroed in on her date.

Lucy Donato.

Waiting casually at their table.

Nervously, Karen made her way to Lucy.

Normal.

Come off.

As normal, Karen.

“Hi. Sorry I’m late. Got lost,” explained Karen as she sat down.

“No problem. I was early,” said Lucy, and Karen wasn’t sure if Lucy was being casual or a little too blunt with how she answered.

Karen wasn’t sure where she stood.

“I, uh. I’ll have the cod,” Karen tried, the waiter not making Karen any less awkward about this date, “And I’ll have the wine. Would – would you like the wine?”

“Another vodka shot,” said Lucy clearly, “Straight.”

“Uh. So… you’re a freelance pilot?”

“Yup.”

Okay.

“How – how does that work?” asked the literal rocket scientist.

Great.

Now Lucy was giving her a look before she chugged her entire vodka shot.

And.

Karen could just feel it in her bones.

This date wasn’t going to go well.

*****

“Wow, Karen Mars, she’s…” Hen started, staring at.

At Karen Mars.

She and her other D.E.B.S. were up in the scaffolding of the restaurant Les Deux Amours. Stakeouts usually proved to be boring.

But.

But Hen found herself transfixed on Karen Mars.

Karen.

Who might have been the most gorgeous woman Hen had ever seen? With beautiful braids, with the best figure, with a wonderful black pantsuit on that looked fantastic on her.

Karen.

Who was currently on what looked to be a date with a certain freelance pilot.

And.

Hen couldn’t seem to look away from it.

Well.

Maybe that was good for the mission. They were supposed to be on a stakeout.

“She’s what?” asked Chimney, because Hen never finished her sentence.

“Real,” breathed Hen, “I – I never thought I’d see her in person.

And.

Hen just kept staring at her.

“ – en? Hey, Hen?” asked Chimney as he bumped shoulders with Hen.

“Sorry, what?” asked Hen, barely managing to peel her eyes away from Karen Mars.

Karen Mars in the flesh.

Chimney.

Looked from Hen to Karen then back.

“Who’s your best friend?” asked Chimney.

“You’re my best friend,” Hen pointed out.

“What was the first thing you ever told me?” asked Chimney.

“‘That’s my bunk, bitch’,” said Hen fondly, remembering that first day.

They had just started. First years in their spy academy. And while Hen wasn’t sure even then if she wanted to be a spy, she knew she was born for it. She knew she would be the best. And she and Chimney?

They had clicked instantly.

Best friends ever since.

“Okay, after you said that,” said Chimney.

“We need to stick together,” said Hen.

Because.

D.E.B.S. Academy was hard. It was cruel. It could be downright vicious. And the only way to get through it was to have a good group of friends; a found family to have your back.

And Chimney really had become family.

All of them.

Chimney, Buck, Eddie – they were all Hen’s people.

“I’m not trying to, like, tell you what to do,” said Buck as he glanced from Hen to the date below them, “But from what I can tell, that date is not going well. And trust me, I’ve been on some really bad dates.”

Hen.

Quirked an eyebrow.

“What are you trying to tell me here?” asked Hen curiously as all her friends exchanged glances.

“It’s just – you’ve been talking about Karen Mars a lot today. You’ve kind of been gushing about her,” said Eddie helpfully, “Maybe – maybe she’s more than a subject of a thesis paper to you. And maybe – maybe that would be good.”

“To date a villain?” asked Hen.

“No one’s perfect,” said Chimney with a shrug, “And most of what she does is steal space rocks from asshole billionaires. She usually donates them to museums. You told us that.”

“I mean – I did,” said Hen, and she had basically infodumped everything she knew about Karen Mars to her friends on the way to their mission.

“Hey, uh. If you – if you talk to her, do you think you could see if her friend Tommy’s single?” asked Buck, and – okay.

Okay, that was new.

Hen had seen Buck looking at guys for a long time, but she had never seen him seek one out before. Hen smirked at that.

“Why do you want to know?” asked Hen way too innocently.

“For, uh. Reasons. Maybe I have a thesis on Tommy Kinard. You don’t know my term papers,” said Buck, and Hen laughed.

“I – I can’t just drop down there and get in the way of her failing blind date,” said Hen, because, yes, she could admit that it did look like a blind date going nowhere, “That’s not really how stakeouts work.”

“Screw the stakeout! We’ve got your back,” said Eddie.

“Yeah, who cares if we don’t do this right? Who cares if you’ve got this connection with some supposed evil scientist? Well? Maybe you should make the most of that,” agreed Buck, “Maybe it’s time to find that love you want!”

And.

That sounded a bit like a speech for both her and Buck.

But.

Hen was going to put a pin in that.

She was kind of having a crisis of her own at the moment.

“Yeah! And they have to be understanding if we fuck this up for true love, right?” said Chimney, grinning, “I mean – I’ve been listening to you talk about her for months. Something’s gotta give, right?”

And.

Something felt.

Felt maybe… planned here.

Hen.

Narrowed her eyes.

“What’s up with this, Chim?” asked Hen, “What are you not telling me?”

And Chimney looked as if he was debating what he should say.

And.

Well.

He seemed to fold.

“Okay. So, you know my friend? The pilot?” asked Chimney.

“…Tommy,” said Hen slowly, and.

And.

It couldn’t be the same Tommy, could it?

“Well, you know, I saved his life once and he owes me. And he had been talking about how Karen’s been having a lot of bad luck with love the last few years, and. Well. Lucy’s a red herring,” said Chimney, “The real date’s with you.”

“Me?” echoed Hen.

“Hen, I’ve never heard you so excited about someone since I’ve met you. And you told me you were splitting up with Eva for good,” said Chimney, “Of course with you.”

Eddie.

Had the most excited face from this new information.

“Like we’re living a telenovela,” whispered Eddie excitedly.

“Wait, you, uh. You know that Tommy guy, then?” asked Buck way too casually, “Is he – do you know if he’s, uh. Around?”

“I think he’s outside, actually – ” Chimney started to say, as –

As.

Buck.

Took off.

He slowly guided himself down, unharnessed himself, and casually walked out of the restaurant as if he hadn’t just dropped from the ceiling.

And maybe they all turned to the big windows that pointed to the street and saw Buck wandering outside before he made a beeline to a car.

And.

Knocked on the window of the car.

And.

Huh.

Was that Tommy stepping outside of the car? Leaning on his car as he – were they talking?

Okay, so Tommy Kinard and Buck were talking now.

Huh.

“And there he goes. Okay. Anyway,” said Chimney, turning back to Hen, “The ball’s in your court. Would you like to go down there and go on a date with one Karen Mars?”

“Is that why you told us all to dress fancy for this?” asked Eddie curiously.

And.

Yeah.

It was a little weird that they were all in suits for a stakeout, but Hen had assumed that was if they wanted to blend in at the restaurant. Hen supposed that was true to some extent, but more so to get Hen ready for her surprise date.

Hen hadn’t expected this.

She hadn’t even thought about the possibility.

But the more she knew about Karen, the more she – the more she wanted to get to know the woman.

Hen.

Nodded.

“Yeah,” said Hen finally, “I think I will go on a date with Karen Mars.”

Hen slowly guided herself down to the floor, unlatching herself from the pulley system and undoing the harness. Hen, okay, well, she tossed it all in a plant nearby.

Not like anyone was paying attention.

Hen walked up to the table and.

What was she supposed to say?

Hi. I’m your actual date. I’ve read way too much about you for a paper and kind of love you?

Lucy seemed to be in on the plan, though.

Lucy grinned, standing up as she said to Karen, “I’m going to be honest with you. I’m not the real date here. She is – meet Hen Wilson.”

And.

And Hen’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes met Karen’s.

Karen Mars.

Hen was meeting Karen Mars.

“H – hi,” said Hen as she took Lucy’s seat, “I’m Hen.”

Karen.

Looked a little stiff.

“All right,” said Karen as if she had decided she was going to be okay with this new wrinkle in her date, “You’ve got minutes to convince me this was a good idea.”

Hen.

Blinked.

“What?” asked Hen.

“I don’t usually have time for blind dates, but my favorite henchman has kicked me out of my lab for the night. It’s very inconvenient. I’m trying to push the boundaries of sinking and floating masses of land and I got to stop for, what? Trying to have a social life again? It’s ridiculous. Now, tell me about you. What do you do? What makes you love it?”

“Me?” asked Hen, starting to get her footing again, “It’s – it’s my turn?”

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Well, I thought you were just gonna be monologuing all night, the way you came in like that.”

Because.

That was a little blunt. A little too straight to the point. And maybe Hen deserved better than that. And she was sure Karen could be better than that.

“Excuse me? Like what?” asked Karen curiously.

“Like someone who doesn’t have time for anybody.”

“I don’t sound like that,” scoffed Karen.

“You’ve got minutes to convince me this is a good idea,” said Hen, immediately wondering if she was wrong about agreeing to this blind date.

Karen.

Exhaled nerves.

And.

Oh.

Okay.

Karen was nervous.

“I sound like that,” said Karen apologetically, “Let me start this over. Hi. I’m Karen.”

Karen extended her hand.

Hen smiled.

“Henrietta Wilson,” said Hen as she shook it, “But you can call me Hen.”

[shunin-gumis]

As Master Joe Wishes - Track 04

Seasonal Team Event - L4mps

My parts are coming up! Thank you TLWard for letting me work with you!

Location:  HAMA House - Lesson Room

Ryui: (I don’t give a shit if that damn bear is getting targeted. I don’t, but…) 

(Whatever Toi wants is what I want. I’ll grant any of his wishes, even if I have to go through hell and back for it…!)

Sakujiro: Ryui-san, you’re not bowing low enough! The most respectful bow is at a precise 45 degree angle, you must bend until you can see your feet clearly! 

Ryui: Ugh… 

Sakujiro: Keep going! 56, 57… 

Netaro: I can’t do this anymooore~

Toi: Me neither~

Nagi:  My lower back is already waving a white flag because Ryui won’t recite the commandments…. 

Ryui: Aaaaaahhh!! Fuck!! 

Sakujiro: Oh dear… I suppose I can offer you a short respite from your little “bowing” punishment. 

Nagi: Oof… 

Chief: I see now… So that’s why Sakujiro-san is giving you special training on servitude? 

Toi: I have a feeling this is gonna lead up to a dramatic and heartfelt scenario!

Netaro: Perhaps the Suspension Bridge effect will give birth to many many new couples! 

Netaro and Toi: Ooh~~~~! 

Nagi: Chief, this might get dangerous, so it’s best if you don’t get involved. This kinda work that involves the 3Es is better suited for someone like me… 

Yodaka: I believe they were, “𝓔mbrace without” looking out of place, “𝓔xposure to danger is OK”, and “𝓔asily counted on.”

Chief: Oh… To be honest, I’m extremely worried about you guys, but unfortunately, Kafka called me in earlier… I’ll need to leave for an overseas business trip tomorrow. 

Ryui: (He probably figured this was gonna be a dangerous job… I’d do the same if I could.)

Yodaka: Not only do we have the police, we even have Danny, the brawn of HAMA Tours, on our side. I’m sure it will be fine.

Daniel: You can bet I’m gonna apply for that worker’s insurance and paid leave after this.

Ryui: —There’s something I just don’t get.

Ryui: We were only asked to escort her, I don’t see why we gotta dress up as maids or butlers and blend in as the manor’s staff. 

Sakujiro: I must disagree.

Ryui: … Go on.

Sakujiro: It would be quite unnatural to have multiple unknown faces wandering about the manor out of the blue. 

Nagi: Um, then why can’t we act as security guards instead?

Sakujiro: We must not give away that Joe-sama is the treasure. Introducing security into the picture would only bring unwanted attention.

Netaro: Indeed… Having guards around would only rouse suspicion. 

Ryui: Tch… 

Sakujiro: I’m certain you understand the necessity of your roles. Now then, let us take a short recess. We shall continue your punishment from the 58th bow.

~~~

Sakujiro: I apologize for disturbing you all during your break time, but I have something that requires your attention.

Nagi: ? Sakujiro-san, you look pretty excited?

Sakujiro: Fufufu… Was I perhaps too obvious? Please, take a look at these.

Toi: Wow…! It’s a sketch of butler and maid uniforms! 

Sakujiro: The moment I heard that you would all be working at a manor for your next assignment, inspiration welled up within me. Should you find these designs acceptable, it would be an honor to sew them up for you. 

Yodaka: These iterations honor the classic designs of old. I think they’re splendid.

Toi: But, I’m a maid? Not a butler?

Sakujiro: I believe being a maid would suit you better.

Ryui: You got that right. But… The hell you putting me and Hachinoya in dresses for too…? 

Sakujiro: I believe being a maid would suit you better.

Netaro: Lookie!! Daa’s gonna be a maid too!

Nagi: Woah, I feel like that’s gonna show up in my dreams, somehow.

Daniel: Whatever… I’d rather wear a maid dress than have to bow down one more time… 

Ryui: An old man like you should know how to stand your fucking ground! There’s no way in HELL I’m wearing a dress! I’d rather bite my tongue and let it fucking bleed out!

Toi: Ah, if Ani-sama is biting his tongue off then I will too…!

Netaro: Count me in~

Nagi: That’s a lot of “Tongue-cut Sparrows”… *

Yodaka: With this response… I’m sorry to say, but we should probably shelve that idea… 

Sakujiro: Understood… Boohoo… 

~~~

Sakujiro: Good work, everyone. Please keep in mind what you learned today. I expect you to become the absolute most perfect servants.

Location: HAMA House 2nd floor

Ryui: (Ugh… My back’s stiff as a board…) 

Sakujiro: Ryui-san, a moment, please.

Ryui: What? I ain’t doing any more bows.

Sakujiro: No, I didn’t stop you for such a reason… I have something I need to share about Joe-sama.

Sakujiro: As I recall, Joe-sama was actually a present that the late madam Brunhild had received from her father at a tender age. 

Sakujiro: She must have been treasured greatly as a close companion.

Ryui: …..

Sakujiro: When a person senses that they are not being valued, that is when they experience true anger. The duty of a servant is to find the true meaning hidden within their master’s demands, and act accordingly.

Ryui: And? What’s your point?

Sakujiro: Please keep in mind that if you perform insincerely, the other person will know.

Ryui: Yeah yeah, thanks for the warning, or whatever. 

Sakujiro: ….. 

~~~

Location: Manor - Large Parlor

Hiramei: Good morning everyone! We’re counting on you all for this mission! 

Hiramei: Please try to act natural! Samejima-san and I will be checking in on you guys every once in a while!

Ryui: ( –Is what that guy said, but… )

Location:  Manor - Bedroom

Ryui: What was next again, making the bed? How’s it even getting messed up when there’s only a plushie in here… 

Ryui: –The fuck! The heck you loungin’ around for, old man?

Daniel: My back… it hurts… It’s as stiff as a board… Give me a break already… 

Ryui: That’s what you said last time when you were lazin’ about on the sofa! For fuck’s sake, you’re a lost cause—

*loud tumbling noises*

Ryui: … Who messed up this time… 

Location: Manor - Large Parlor

Joe: My goodness! What in the world happened for the room to get to this state!

Toi: Wha- The laundry room and corridor are totally covered in foam...!

Nagi: I’m sorry… It’s my first time using a washing machine like this, so I put in a random amount of detergent and clicked some random buttons, and this is how it ended up… 

Ryui: Ah… Hachinoya’s technology impairment rears its ugly head… 

Yodaka: Joe-sama, pardon us. We’ll clean this up right away, so please overlook this. Nagi, could you bring in the cleaning supplies?

Nagi: Joe-sama…I apologize for my carelessness… 

*loud tumbling noises*

Joe: W-What in the world is it this time!?

Location: Manor

Netaro: Hmm. I thought I could grow some fresh veggies for dinner, but I seem to have injected a cell-positive agent instead of a growth promotant… 

Tomato Monster: GRRR—!

Toi: Wah! There’s a cluster of man-eating tomatoes with fangs surrounding us!

Joe: The manner in which they gnash their sharp fangs is giving me a fright! I-I fear for my life!

Yodaka: Pardon us, we will promptly harvest them. Netaro, please bring a shovel and a trowel.

Netaro: Roger that! Joe-sama, sorry about this!

Ryui: (Damn, can’t believe Natsume could clean up this mess so fast… Glad we have him around.)

Ryui: By the way, why’s Joe been on Toi’s back this entire time? You’ve even got him using a baby sling… 

Toi: Hehe, I’m Joe’s nanny right now! Joe-sama, are you comfortable on my back?

Joe: As expected of my “nursemaid.” I am feeling quite comfortable indeed!

Toi: Ehehe~ I’m glad to hear that.

Ryui: (Well, it’s all good if Toi’s happy with it.)

Ryui: Joe, you better not work Toi too hard, got it?

Joe: …..

Joe: My, whyever could it be that you are the only one to show me such disrespect… 

Note:

Nagi is referring to an old Japanese fable "Shita-kiri Suzume" or "The Sparrow with the Slit Tongue"