#it means vendetta needs time to be served

[sinnerista]

E comunque la vendetta è un piatto che va servito freddo

[ghosty-writes-23]

Just Can't Let Him Go. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: NSFW Content, Needy!Leon, Desperate Sex, CONSENT IS KEY, Cheating (With Y/n), Sweet Ending, !WRAP IT, BEFORE YOU TAP IT!, Unprotected Sex, Soft!Dom!Leon, P in V, Creampie, Eating Out, Slight Anal, Spit Kink, Slight Choking, Praise, Aftercare.

Pairing: Vendetta!Leon + Mistress!Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature.

Summary: “I Know I Need To Put A Stop To This Before Its Too Late, But I Can’t He Makes Me Weak.”

Leon knew coming here was a mistake, he just needed to get back onto his motorbike and leave, to not be sitting outside your apartment at night waiting for you to reply to his message, to not be hoping you will open your apartment door and welcome him with open arms. He knew this was wrong to crave the touch and affection from one person while being with another, but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed you like oxygen even if it meant going behind his girlfriend’s back.

Word Count: 4.4k

Ghosty's Notes: Hello my lovelies, yes I have finally done it, I have written Vendetta!Leon finally, I know I have been promising it for months and I am sorry that it has taken this long to get around too, but I do hope you find it worth it, this is probley some of the filthiest smut I have written in a long time, so please enjoy.

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Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

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Tonight, you were finally enjoying a cozy night in after last night’s nightmare of a shift at the bar you work at, you hated spending your night’s serving asshole customers, unnecessary flirty comments or remarks from drunken men and woman trying to get in your pants or a free drink, minor’s trying to buy alcohol with clearly fake ID’s and the list goes on, from catching couples fucking in the bathrooms to breaking up fight’s that break out in the bar and having to get the police involved, these are never fun when you have to clean up the mess afterwards, who knew cleaning up blood would be such a mission.

But even with all the negatives you have for your work place, there are some positives like the friends you have made there, a boss that isn’t a complete prick and let’s you have free drinks when your working your shift just as long as they aren’t alcoholic ones.

Some of the customers can be sweethearts like a regular you have that comes in every Friday night just before closing and like’s to give the staff any left over food from his takeaway store that didn’t sell, but he didn’t want to throw it out. You and your work besties are always grateful and take it with a smile and give him a discount on his drinks since it was only fair.

You were sitting on your couch panting your finger nails while the opening credits to Buffy The Vampire Slayer season two started playing, you were humming along to the theme song and trying to focus on not getting black nail polish all over your hand.

It always annoyed you that you needed to do more then one coat to get the desired darkness that you liked, but you carefully applied the polish and waited for it to dry, which took forever. You planned on having a self-care night with painting your nails and doing a face mask that you will have to dig around in your bathroom to find.

Your friend Claire was always tell you needed to take some you time and relax, so she gave you a little self-care pack with some face masks, eyes patches that felt like slimy jelly in your hands and made you cringe at the texture, but she seemed so excited for you to try, so for her you would try and use some of the things she had gifted.

When the first coat of nail polish finally dried you went to grab the little brush handle to start the second coat when your phone buzzed, indicating a new message which made you frown because who would be messaging you this late, reaching over the table you grabbed your phone and unlocked it and went to look at the message.

Leon: I miss you Y/n…

You froze as you stared at the message on your phone screen, your heart rate picked up slightly as conflicting feelings and emotions started swelling in both your head and heart. You and Leon have a complicated friendship if that’s what you could call it.

You and Leon meet many years ago while you were working in a hotel bar, one of his missions went longer than anticipated and he stayed at the hotel you were working at and came down to the hotel bar just before you were closing.

He looked exhausted but not the kind that sleep could fix so you decided to keep the bar open for a little bit longer, so he could have his drink in peace and you could take your time closing the bar down for the night.

But one thing you couldn’t have predicted about that night was being bent over the bar counter and being railed with his gloved hand around your throat as he used your body like his own personal stress relief toy, you had never been fucked like that ever before, he made you see stars.

The following morning you had to sneak out of his hotel room, even after he tried to ‘convince’ you come back to bed with neck kisses and soft growls and as much as you wanted to stay in bed with him, you had to go to work downstairs or you would be fired.

You had showered at gotten to work only for your boss of the hotel bar calling you into her office and pulling up CCTV footage of you and Leon in the bar last night, you remember all the color draining from your face and trying to figure out an excuses you could make, but she just smirked at you and gave you a warning but also high fived you for finally getting laid.

She was one of the best bosses you had while working there, she was roughly around the same age as you and was the boss of the whole hotel’s daughter so she let some people get away with small things every now and then, but when you left to go to the job you currently have the city It broke your heart, because you would miss her a lot but you would always stay in contact and try and see each other when you could. It made you remember that time you told her Leon had a girlfriend.

*Flashback*

You and Iris were sitting in your apartment sipping on wine glasses and catching up, it has been months since you last seen her, you had missed her dearly. “So, wait let me get this straight, Leon as in the guy that gave you the most mind-blowing sex of your life, has a girlfriend.” Iris says before she took a sip of her whine, just then sentence made you want to curl up into a ball and hide forever. “he doesn’t call her his girlfriend, more like friends with benefits, but she see’s him as her boyfriend.” You tried to explain it to her the way Leon has explained it to you a few nights ago. “Still if he is involved with somebody else then he shouldn’t be trying to get into your pants.” Iris said before she sets her glass down on the coffee table and grabs your hands.

“Y/n honey, just because he is good for your hole, doesn’t mean he is good for your soul.” Iris says with a straight face, causing a very heated blush to come onto your face at her crude words. “IRIS.” You say with a soft embarrassed squeal in your voice. “You know I’m right.” Iris says matter of factily and deep down you knew she was right, going down this road would only lead to disappointment and heartbreak but that doesn’t stop you from melting every time he calls you darling, doll or his good girl, or the pure bliss you feel when you feel his muscular arms wrap around you making you feel safe.

*End of Flashback.*

Shaking your head you focused on the present, you still hadn’t replied to the message leaving it on read, you know what you needed to do, to ignore the message or even delete it and pretend it doesn’t even exist no matter how much it hurts your heart. This was wrong on so many levels, yes Leon didn’t love his girlfriend and it only seemed to be a situationship that they both benefited from and it’s not like they in an actual relationship but that didn’t stop you from feeling any less guilty, you wanted so badly to put an end to this before somebody got really hurt but deep down you knew he made you weak he always had, ever since he purred you were his doll as he took you from behind, you heart had never same since that night.

Leon: I know you said last time was the last time, but please Yn I need you even if it’s only just for tonight, she isn’t you, she doesn’t understand me the way you do, Please doll.

Y/n: Leon…

You didn’t know what to reply with, it has been months since you last saw him, all you could manage to send was his name because you knew deep down what was going to happen, you would welcome him into your apartment with open arms and open legs, you would let him ravish your body any way he wanted, marking you his until the bruises and bite marks faded a few days later, it made you feel weak and pathetic but you couldn’t help yourself, you loved him even if you weren’t meant too.

Y/n: I’ll leave the front door unlocked.

Leon: Just left the DSO, on my way now, be there in 10 minutes.

You sighed softy as you threw your phone onto the couch before placing your hands over your face, guilt was bubbling in your stomach, but so were butterflies. After tonight you had to put a stop to this no just for your sake but also Leon’s before things got to deep and complicated. Soon you heard the familiar rumble of a motorbike causing your heart to pick up and your thighs to clench subconsciously

When you heard you apartment door open you ran over to Leon in a hurried pace, your feet carrying your body towards him, Leon’s bag fell to the ground with a heavy thud before he opened his arms to catch you, your legs wrapping around his thin torso as his muscular arms wrapped around your body holding you securely to his body, you guys fit together like puzzle pieces, two halves of a whole, Leon has caught you effortlessly, his large gloved hands held you by your ass as he walked into your apartment and then pressed you against the front door.

Your mouths crashed together in a hunger and desperate filled kiss, your tongues intertwining and lapping at each other’s as your bodies grinded against each other’s. Moans and groans leaving both of your lips. Leon pulled away only for a few seconds, his forehead resting on yours as his blue eyes meet yours, desperation, hunger, lust and warmth clouded his eyes, his warm breath was hitting your face, you could see the tips of his ears were red.

“I need to be inside you doll.” He groaned softly, there was a soft growl in his voice that made you clench around nothing. “Condom?” you say softly, you knew you had some upstairs but something told you weren’t going to be making it upstairs. “Don’t have one on me this time sweetheart.” Leon says with a frustrated groan, you knew he had just gotten back from a mission, you didn’t think he would be taking a condom with him.

Biting your lip you knew the other option, you had gotten tested not that long ago and knew you were clean, you made it a priority that you get checked at least every 2 weeks to 4 weeks or whenever you sleep with somebody different, because you can’t be sure sometimes. Looking up at Leon he nodded his head. “I’m clean as well, got tested last week.” He tells you and you nod your head, you knew the risks of not using a condom, but you took your birth control this morning and you trusted Leon.

“Okay.” You say to him and he nodded his head and helped you out of your shorts and panties, they fell down your ankles pooling on the floor, you kept you hoodie on as Leon opened his pants, he got them half way down his thighs before he was grinding against you, you could feel his soft length grinding against you, causing you to bite your bottom lip soft sounds leaving your lips.

“Please Leon.” You soft whined as you tightened your arms around his neck as you pressed your body closer to his, there was no distance between your bodies, you could feel his warm breath on your neck panting softly, the scent of his cologne, gunpowder filled your nose it was a scent that brought you a sense of comfort and warmth, as well as made your body feel hot and bothered.

“I know doll, I know.” Leon says against your neck as he adjusted his position, soon Leon spat on his hand and used his saliva as lubricant as he gave his cock a few pumps before he brought it to your entrance, he tapped his tip a few times causing sweet whines to leave your lips before he pressed his hips forward causing his length slide inside smoothly causing sweet whines and cries to leave your lips as he filled you up, you could feel him growing inside you stretching you could perfectly.

One of his gloved hands came up to the door behind your head, to balance himself and use his other hand on your ass to keep you in place as he began to thrust at a steady but slow pace, burying his face in your neck, his stubble scratching the soft skin of your neck and shoulder but in this moment you didn’t care, all thoughts left your mind as you focused on the pleasure this man was giving you.

“Fuck, been waiting for long on for this.” Leon groans in your ear as you feel his grip on your ass tightens slightly, his gloved fingers digging into the soft flesh knowing there will be a bruise there tomorrow, you could feel his cock twitch as he kneaded your ass as he thrusted into you rhythmically, sweet moans and cries fell from your lips uncontrollably as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, you leaned back against the door as you tightened your legs around his waist.

You could hear the door creak and rattle with every thrust, you felt Leon pick up the pace slightly, the tip of his cock hitting that sweetspot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, you felt his hand that was on the door was now in your hair, tugging your head back slightly exposing your throat, you could feel his lips and teeth attack the soft skin, leaving marks on your skin that you will have to cover up tomorrow before you go into work. Sweat started to cover your body, your hair was sticking to your forehead, your body becoming slick.

“Leon.” You babbled his name out as you could feel your thighs behind to shake, you knew you were close, your body felt as if it was tightening, at the sounds of your cries Leon steady up his thrusts, he was now pounding into you could hear his grunts and praises.

“I know sweetheart, cum for me.” Leon grunted against your neck that his teeth were currently sunken into, soon he buried himself to the hilt inside you, that pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name with a loud whine and dug your nails into his shoulder as you felt your body come undone around him.

He soon followed and you felt his cock twitch inside you before he filled you up, causing pleasure to ripple though your body causing you to mew softly. You both stay like this for a few minutes, both breathing heavily and waiting for the trembling of your body to stop, but there was a smile on your lips. But soon you were lifted up and taken to your couch, where you were laid over the arm chair, you could feel Leon’s cum dripping down your thighs making a mess and your cheek flush bright red, you needed to clean yourself up.

Looking over your shoulder at Leon, you could see him admiring the sight of you bent over the couch arm, watching his cum run down your thighs, you saw him kneel down between your legs from behind, then he took off his gloves and put them on the ground before you felt his fingers run up the back of your thighs, your combined juices coating his fingers before he caught them up to his mouth and clean them a growl leaving his lips causing you to clench around nothing.

“You’re going to make such a pretty mess for me doll.” Leon says gruffy as you felt his hungry eyes on your puffy pussy. You felt him move the bottom of your hoodie up to the middle of your waist, leaving your behind exposed to him and the cool breeze. “Look at you, so perfect and dirty just for me.” He praises you causing a soft embarrassed whine to leave your lips before without warning he dived in, burying his face in between your thighs from behind feasting on you like a starving man.

A sharp hitch pitched moan leaves your lips as you pushed your hips into the couch, you buried your face into one of your couch pillows as you could hear the wet and sucking noises coming from behind you could hear Leon grunting also animalistically behind you devouring you, He carefully spread your legs more and buried face deeper, his tongue gently lapping at your sensitive bud, before taking it in between his lips and suckled softly.

“Leon.” His name fell from your lips in a hitch pitch slur, your brain was so hazy and blissed out that you couldn’t focus on anything expect him and the pleasure that was flowing through your body. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you.” Leon groaned against your pussy as you started to grind on his nose, as you were moving your hips you felt his thumb gently tease your asshole, before he slowly pushed it in.

You tensed at first since it was your first time having something back there, but slowly you adjusted your hands where now gripping the pillow your face was buried in as you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. You could feel another orgasm approaching, your slick was now running down your thighs as Leon’s mouth and fingers worked you, as if he knew your body like the back of his hand.

“That’s its baby, cum all over my face, I wanna drink every drop.” Leon growled against your pussy encouraging you as he increased the intensity of his ministrations. You couldn’t hold on anymore your body feeling as if it was on fire as it trembled under his touch, you squeezed your eyes shut as your body came undone but then you felt it, a gush left your body causing a squeak like moan to leave your lips as your body spasmed.

You felt his grip on your thighs tighten slightly as well as a soft suckling noise, you reached your hand back and tried to push his head away. “to sensitive.” You whined softly before you felt his fingers intertwin with your as he placed one last kiss on your pussy and ass before he got up.

“told you I would make a mess of you.” Leon says with a deep chuckle then you felt his hand around your neck, the same one that was just inside you a couple seconds ago, you could see the front of his shirt was drench in your juice’s causing an embarrassed blush to color your cheeks.

You looked up at him, your eyes glazed over with a hazy and dazed look of lust before you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, you felt a drop of his saliva drop on your tounge and you swallowed it immediately, you could taste yourself which caused your cheeks to burn brighter and a grin to come onto his face as he slightly tightened his grip on your neck.

“Such a good girl, always taking everything, I give you.” Leon praises you, his voice low and husky before he leans down and captures your lips in a gentle kiss, that made your heart leap into your chest.

Soon Leon helped you to your feet, he put his arm around your waist to keep you steady as your legs were like jelly and shaking, you both made your way to your bathroom upstairs. “Do you want to shower together or separately.” Leon asks as he guides you into the bathroom and places you on the toilet seat, before going over to your shower and turning on the hot tap. “Together.” You said not trusting your legs to be able to keep you steady in the shower, Leon nodded his head and walked over to you and gently tugged your hoodie off and placed it on the sink before he started to strip himself.

You could see new wounds and scars on his body, but you don’t say anything, you knew his work was private or he couldn’t say anything, but you knew his work drained him both physically, mentally and emotionally and that is what made you worry the most.

Stepping inside the now warm shower water you both felt out a hum as the warm water cascaded over your bodies, relieving the knots and tight muscles in both your bodies, Leon wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closely to his body. Leaning against his body you went up on your tippy toes and pressed and gentle kiss to his lips, this wasn’t sexually driven or rough as before but more tender and softer as if you were trying to savor this moment of soft intimacy in your own little bubble.

Leon returned the kiss also immediately, his callous hands running down your curves before they settled on your ass and give it a small squeeze. “this.” He mumbles against your lips as he gave you soft pecks. “this is why I can’t let you go.” he whispers softly before his blue eyes meet yours. “You’re not just sex to me y/n, but something more.” He says as he cradles your head in his hands before his lips meet yours again in a soft and passionate kiss.

“but we can’t keep sneaking around Leon, it isn’t fair to your girlfriend, even if you’re in a relationship or situationship it still isn’t fair on her.” You say as you gently pressed on his bare chest breaking the kiss softly. “I know.” He admits quietly as he rested his forehead on yours, his damp hair was pressing against your forehead and for a moment you forgot that you were in the shower as his eyes looked into yours, you could see the guilt in them but also a look you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“you know how I feel about you y/n, I’ll figure something out somehow I promise.” Leon promises you as he places a kiss on the top of your head, despite the uncertainty and guilt hanging over them, all you wanted to do was be closer to Leon, he made you feel a way that no other man has ever made you before, he makes your heart flutter and skip a beat with just a look, his arms feel like home, making you feel safe and protected when they are around you, but you knew things were going to be easy for either of you.

After your shower and putting both of your clothes into your washing machine, you were laying on your bed just in a pair of panties, your hair was still a little damp but you knew it would dry overnight, only your bedside table lamp was on giving your bedroom a more relaxed vibe as you could hear the rain outside hitting your windows.

Leon came in a couple moments later, only wearing a pair of briefs, lucky he had left some of his clothes from last time he was here, He soon joined you on the bed and pulled you closely to bare chest as his hand started to run through your dam hair, causing a soft hum to leave your lips.

“Beautiful.” You heard Leon mumble before he leaned capturing your lips in a soft and passionate kiss, like you shared in the shower, you hummed softly against his lips and kissed him back the same, your hands resting on his bare chest, your eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself be lost in this man that you know has capture your heart despite everything.

The dim lighting in the room and the rain outside gave your bedroom an almost intimate and sensual atmosphere as you moved closer to Leon, straddling one of his thick thighs, you could feel the emotions in the kiss, the unsaid words you couldn’t say out loud, the promises and hope. You both explored each other’s mouths languidly, taking the time to savor the taste and feel of each other, not knowing when the next time you would be able to see each other.

You felt him break a hand up and gently stroke your cheek with his thumb as he broke the kiss, he rested his forehead on yours, gazing into your eyes with warmth and adoration. “I love you y/n so damn much.” He confesses softly, his tone was tinged with desperation and longing, as if it was a slient plea for you to always be his and only his.

Reaching up you intertwined your fingers with the hand that was on his cheek and leaned up and softly kissed him, you didn’t say the three words back to him but your actions showed it, slowly you pulled away causing a groan to leave his lips as he tried to chase after your lips, but you place one of your fingers on his lips.

“If your serious about this then leave her, I’m sick and tired of sneaking around behind everybody’s back and feeling as if I am walking on eggshells.” You say to Leon hoping he would understand where you were coming from, you felt him lean forward and soft peck your lips as he gave the soft flesh of your ass a small squeeze.

“I promise I will y/n, you’re the only one I want.” He mumbled against your lips as if he was sealing a promise, you didn’t know what the future held for the both of you, but you knew if Leon kept to his promise then you wouldn’t let him slip through your fingers not again.

“Okay.” You say to him as a smile came across your lips. “Okay.” He repeated back to you echoing your sentiment, he pulled you closer so now there was no space between you as you laid on top of him, you settle in for the night, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm ambiance over your entwined bodies. Even if this was to only last just for tonight you were going to savor every single moment until the sun raised in the morning…

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©Ghosty-writes-23, 2024. all rights reserved. !I DO NOT! consent to translations or replications or reproduction of my work on any other social media platforms and or make AI Bots without my explict consent and permission.

[kdramastrix]

I have. Something to talk about and its very very VERY important.

We know that last scene of TDJ where its just PEAK yearning but can we PLEASE appreciate the micro-expressions that passed over both Yohan & Gaon's faces when they faced each other DIRECTLY after a MONTH (if im not wrong) of that whole blowing up fiasco + Yohan's arrest before that??????? Because my GOD.

So we see Gaon call Yohan by his Full Government Name™ (which wasn't very wise for a declared dead enemy of the state who is ALSO wanted but we'll let it pass for romanticisms' sake) and look at his face. His face is one of a scared man. He's not hesitant but he is afraid of how Yohan views him after what transpired between them.

In turn, Yohan looks back and well.

He is also somewhat apprehensive. They're both testing each other & the waters they're in. Although Yohan doesn't have a revenge vendetta shackling him down anymore, Gaon, on the other hand, has tremendous stuff to unpack. They're carefully, if not gently, evaluating the distance between them.

And then, Yohan gives a clear sign that he holds nothing against Gaon. An open arm, an open invitation. To join him? Maybe. To decide what to do with them? Perhaps. It's vague but it's also clear that Yohan is done manipulating Gaon & that he has left the ball in Gaon's court.

Then come the positive changes. With Yohan's green signal, Gaon is somewhat relieved but also incredibly guilt-ridden. I think these frames speak for themselves.

The wet smile & the eye crinkles. He is so relieved to be in Yohan's good graces but also just looking at Yohan be his ever glowing self after serving his life's purpose.

Yohan. My dearest Yohan. Look at him. He's equally heart-broken to be seeing Gaon like this, to be leaving him behind but that little nod he does???? Like he's made a decision that he needs to stick with for the betterment of Gaon???? That's what truly gets me. It's so clear the distance between them is hurting him but he also knows that it's necessary to give Gaon space & time, to unravel & to explore things on his own. Perhaps another assumption on his part because who truly knows what Gaon wants except Gaon himself?

Then it's a brief look exchanged. As he turns, giving Gaon one last reassuring smile as he turns and leaves behind one of the most important people to him.

And gaon watches. Look at his micro-expressions here. Look at his breathing. His sagging shoulders. His eyes. His wet smile. His balled hands. His tiny nods.

He also thinks this is necessary but you can so clearly see its taking every bit of nerve & fiber in him to stay rooted to his place & not chase after Yohan. He's DELIBERATELY not taking a single step towards Yohan. He thinks he doesn't deserve to chase after him, that hes content to see Yohan: alive, well and so utterly free. That's all that matters.

I would genuinely like to appreciate both jinyoung and jisung for their acting bcs they NAILED the raw emotions needed for this absolutely stunning yet gut wrenching scene. It's so difficult to convey such complex emotions through such little means yet they did it to PERFECTION. They both gave their characters LIFE. And for that i will always be grateful bcs i dont think anyone else could've done Kang Yohan and Kim Gaon the way they did.

[mandalhoerian]

leon kennedy + love languages analysis

It’s in Leon’s job description to help and serve, he’s always out there chasing bioweapons and their makers to save others or doing the bidding of his higher-ups — it’s all in the name of the right thing and out of his strong sense of justice. It doesn’t matter if he’s in an overbearing mission breathing down his neck in utmost priority, he will stop and try his best to help out a random citizen as you can see in RE6. He does also state in RE2 remake that helping people in need was why he chose his occupation, be it in his emo era too, Leon just can’t look away from innocent bystanders. Accepting to look for Claire’s brother when he just met her that night, and also the inability to leave Ada alone in the maze of the sewer he has no idea how to solve the puzzle to, and agreeing to whatever Helena wanted to show him when he was so suspicious of her because she was distraught and clearly in need of something are just some examples of this. 

He helps however he can, whenever he can; he also expresses great concern for the wellbeing of others before his own as it’s his main drive in life. Leon’s a man of duty and selfless in nature, the only time he’s done anything for himself was when he wanted to chase the trail of bioweapons in Eastern Slav Republic instead of pulling back like he was ordered to, and even that was work.   

Therefore we can say acts of service is his primary love language, so much so you would want him to take a break from it. 

Leon really doesn’t look after himself. 

His go-to self-destruction method is to indulge in alcohol to deal with his problems and drink away his feelings instead of seeking help. Maybe he doesn’t believe in getting help in his field of work (nobody has gone through what he has, and seen what he’s seen, and maybe he doesn’t want to bother people with any of it), but he does shut himself off and ignores his problems — doesn’t ask for help, at all. 

In Damnation, he pushes Hunnigan away when she tries to explain the situation to him and nonchalantly dissolves the conversation when she’s afraid he’s going to take off. In Vendetta, he’d rather fight Chris and put on a sarcastic demeanor than to express vulnerability when he clearly needs someone to be his confidant. He doesn’t want to share his burden, but will relentlessly pressure you to share yours.  

With his significant other, he would want to take on the weight of whatever’s on you regardless — from mundane things around the house like cleaning, fixing things, preparing breakfast so you can sleep a little bit more and being a great giver in bed to grander gestures like taking a bullet for you and becoming mean to you in order to keep you away from harm’s way (like he did with Claire at the end of Infinite Darkness, he lost his friendship with her but it kept her safe). Leon will go above and beyond to make life better and easier for you, but he is obsessed with your safety first and foremost. 

However, you will have problems with getting him to open up like I mentioned previously, he deals with his problems on his own and he won’t want to trouble you with whatever he’s going through at the moment — with the plus of his job being mostly confidential, it’s a struggle to help him when the most of his suffering comes from the loss and trauma that comes with it. 

It makes him emotional that you help in other areas though, when you clean up his place at times he is away for a long time, when you make a homemade meal cooked just for him, or when you offer to give him shoulder massages seeing as he’s extremely tired. He isn’t used to being taken care of, and part of him feels guilty, but he’s so appreciative and happy someone cares for him this much. 

Leon moves around quite often and is rarely at his place of residence, so he doesn’t spend a lot of time at home. Therefore, even when his place screams how fat his salary is from the outside, his house is not a home, it doesn’t have a lot in it and is basically empty like a ghost is living in it. And again, with being an agent comes the practicality of not having a lot on you so you can be more flexible, but it’s almost as if it reflects how little he thinks of his life and has nothing to leave behind if he dies on duty.  

He even has two default outfits, first is anything he can throw on himself (preferably jeans) with a leather jacket and the second is the agent outfit, which is just a suit (button-up shirts grew on him over the years.) He isn’t someone who treats himself aside from alcohol and he doesn’t care much for luxuries — the only materialistic things that could excite him were a bike and a bazooka, and both were found by him randomly and were tools to help him in action. 

What he chooses to own, though, are high in quality. His RE4 outfit has Schott’s Classic B-3 Sheepskin Leather Bomber Jacket is $1495 USD. He also drove to Racoon City in a Jeep that he had to abandon. Being rich makes you this carefree, huh? 

He has a lot more than he can spend, therefore I believe he would happily spend it on his significant other. Leon would be the type of guy who buys something out of nowhere because it reminded him of you, or that he saw you looking at it, maybe it was a chocolate bar, or maybe some random scented candle you thought looked sick. He loves seeing you surprised and delighted, and thinking of your space having the traces of him makes him happy — makes him feel the bond is more concrete and tangible. He’s a giver, so it’s only natural he gives presents too. 

Now, receiving gifts from you is another level of joy for him. Leon wouldn’t have thought he cared much about things like that but the thought. The idea of you thinking this much of him and putting your heart into it, there’s something intimate in it that has him feeling so important. Owning things you gave him has a special place in his heart, and he will take great care of them. Maybe he still has the wrapper of some ribbon from a package in his drawer, who’s to say? It’s the carnal desire to hold onto the proof of your existence, perhaps. 

Leon has absolutely no time at all for himself, and in his days off, they keep pulling him back for some unexpected emergency. His schedule is unpredictable. In RE4, he does say “Story of my life,” when Hunnigan reminds him that he’s on duty right now after he flirts with her. Then later, he reminds her that it was them who pulled him out of furlough for this when she tells him to fall back on his Eastern Slav Republic mission. Leon rarely gets any break from bioweapon fighting and over the years, the exhaustion has taken a toll on him, the only constant is chaos in his life, he scarcely can spare any mundane moments to his acquaintances as he barely has any time for himself. 

Quality time though, as he lacks so much of it, is something he yearns for deep down. I mean, hello, the way he wanted that dinner with Claire in Infinite Darkness? He really really wanted her company, and to catch up with her. He asked Shenmei as well. It's a crime that nobody accepted his requests, someone go get dinner with him right now.

It’s because he can’t spend time with people that he wants it so badly in the first place. That’s where he is also self-destructive and it’s a double-edged sword. He seeks company of flirtations because he’s lonely, yet he won’t pursue anything serious. He’s scared of committing to someone since it won’t work due to complications and the distance, it’ll get messy. 

He even deprives himself of friendships and is unwilling to let anyone get too close. Leon is an isolationist, yet he needs people in his life to process his trauma and grief and bully him about his drinking habits but keeps denying himself the company. 

And then there’s the fear of losing that person. He doesn’t spend any time getting close to people, he treasures the companions he has, but everybody is at an arm’s length. He already reacts so negatively to the deaths of allies he barely got to know briefly — Ada messed him up real good, too. How do you think he feels imagining what he could have had with her? He wants stability and settling, but Ada is anything but that. He chases every interaction to be longer, seeks her company just for their meeting to be stretched even by minutes. Leon gets attached so easily, and he deprives himself of time with them out of being scared by it. One part of him must be comfortable in his love for her because it’ll never become a reality, because she’ll never take him up to it, he’d rather take the suffering than the happiness. 

But quality time also is so important to him because it’s in these times of ordinary domesticity that he can find normalness outside the crazy undead shit he has to deal with. It helps him recharge and he craves having this to come back to. 

He would feel so guilty about not being able to be with his significant other, he could even forget important days and miss important moments of your life and he wouldn’t even know most of the time because he’s just so occupied and in survival mode for a while after he comes back. You would have to be understanding of his situation and forgiving, too, it’s not up to him whatever he gets called in for, and because you wouldn’t know what it was, it’s a great deal of practicing patience, and that’s why it’s hard being in a relationship with Leon. Hell, it’s the base reason why couples break up; the guy is inattentive and negligent and the girl breaks it off in the end. In this scenario, zombies are involved. 

You can only get the peaceful moments inbetween with him. And it has to be enough, and believe that he hates going away as much as you do and more.    

Leon hates being praised. He dislikes being heralded as some legend for getting out of Racoon City alive and his experiences ultimately leading him to rescuing the president’s daughter only to be elevated in praise more. 

He was just at the wrong place at the right time. He got lucky, ended up trailing behind Ada who was competent at what she did and reached the root of the problem just because he happened to run into her — it wasn’t him, it was just stars aligning. Pure coincidence. 

Leon sometimes thinks he didn’t deserve making it out, but he did anyway, and now this life of his belongs to a purpose, the purpose. 

He’s just doing his job. One shouldn’t be applauded for doing their job. 

Compliments make him uncomfortable and it’s the easiest way to make him clamp up on a conversation, he’ll vehemently deny whatever it is and change the subject. It looks like Leon’s being humble (he is), but there’s a deeper reason with an underlying imposter syndrome going on in the back of his mind. He just doesn’t feel worthy some days. 

Affirmations on the other hand also don’t come easy, he’s in one of the most coldly professional fields and it’s strictly business, and he is emotionally constipated and deeply traumatized, therefore there’s a lot he doesn’t say and he doesn’t know how to say, and he is bad at telling you what he wants. He’s good at sass and banter, but ask him to tell you about his nightmares and he’ll just hug you and go back to sleep. 

Leon isn’t used to expressing affection through words either, and prefers to show it instead. You’ll know he loves you even if he doesn’t say it outright. But with his significant other, though, he’ll do his best to learn to be more affectionate with words to you to show his appreciation — just prepare for shy and awkward Leon. The soft side of him comes out this way, he’ll hesitantly ask you to stay and he’ll look so young doing it that it’ll melt your heart.   

Leon is one touch-starved poor bastard. 

Here’s the reason why: he’s a pretty lonely guy but he’d rather indulge in the warmth of a person than letting them in. Solitude is a personal preference of his, and it leads him to seeking out temporary companionship to feed this part of his. Meaningless one-night stands are a go-to of his, as they mean no deeper connection but all the skin to skin contact and the soothing heat beside him. If he’s lucky, his partner would pet his head during the deed, or caress his face, now those are the treat. 

If he could just let go and the perfect opportunity arose, he would just lie in the arms of his significant other for hours being hugged by them, enveloped in the coziness, head empty and fuzzy. Those would be the perfect naps he needed, because wow does this guy not sleep well.    

It would be a first for him to get affectionate touches coming with a friendship as well, it’s been a lifetime since he let himself be that way with someone, it’s not easy to get him to be chummy and lighthearted with you in that aspect. He’s a well-mannered guy too, so he’s the type to keep a respectable distance even when he’s being playful. Half-hugs, back pats and handshakes are the best you’re going to get as his friend, and they don’t happen often.   

The clinginess blooms well into the relationship after Leon gets comfortable with exploring that childish, neglected part of his. He would adore hugs, hand-holding, reaching out to grab you casually while sitting next to you in the confines of your private space, you would feel his love through him seeking you out for comfort voluntarily and lowering his serious exterior to be relaxed around you. His utmost weakness is you playing with his hair and tracing his face with your fingers, because he goes out like a light almost immediately.  

Leon also won't be rough with you physically while bonking so don't expect playfighting and do not hit him while joking around, he gets thrown around and hurt so much as it is (the amount of being strangled by tyrants and plagas? no, he's not into choking), and he tends to be extremely tender and sweet. Though you might discover a pretty interesting side of him if you decide to be assertive and take care of him in bed, you might just get addicted to how shy he could get.

[header template credits]

[breakingbranchesbella]

Self-Indulgence; A Criminal Minds Multi-Fandom Fic

Also found on Wattpad, Quotev, and Ao3 under the name BreakingBranches.

CHAPTER 1 - Loose End

Season 1. Episode 15. Unfinished Business. 

  IT'S NO SECRET that the younger you are, the longer time seems to go. Once you reach your fourties' a decade feels like a fever dream. Cassandra was still a little far from that mark. She was still only twenty-six. Twenty-six and she had wasted eight years of her developmental life personally deteriorating her own psyche. Only to be spat out by the big green machine. Now, eight years wasn't a decade, but it was certainly a long time to spend running towards no light at the end of the tunnel. 

  The tunnel had ended. The light still wasn't there. 

  Cassandra wasn't suffering, not really. She wasn't stuck in an endless torture of her own mind. She had passed her evaluation. She had been cleared for the field. Twice now, given she was sitting in the stuffiest office possible with the worst fluorescence known to man. Maybe the second worst, and she would only know this from the memories that this little scene brought back. Except in these recounts, she was on the other side of the desk. 

  "Miss Lorayne, we ask that you answer these next few questions to the best of your ability. Do you understand what I mean by that?" 

  "I do."

————————————

  There was an incessant buzzing in Cassie's pocket. At first, ignoring it had been her go-to solution. That hadn't worked. It still rang on. Over and over. And over again. Nothing but a frighteningly stimulating reminder of why she was here. Sometimes another person's kindness only serves to make you feel more helpless. Cassie had gone from a problem solver to a statistic in just twenty-five seconds. A few months later she was back to her protector role. The only difference was that this role didn't require her to move around every few months. Currently she was stationed in Quantico, Virginia. Sure, she had been given the warning that her days of freedom were seldom with this job. That traveling was still very much a constant, so much so they needed a personal jet. Having a house was just a new sort of feeling. Not a good one. Not a bad one either. 

  From police to FBI, oh how the mighty had fallen. Everyone had their opinion of each other in that part of the world. CIA, FBI, homeland security, the military, and all the way down to beat cops just trying to fill a quota. They all had their specific issues with one another. Sometimes it reached a point where the individual only cared because it was mob mentality. Cassie had her reservations, but she also had to have a job. Work till' you die, the American dream. 

  Physically, she was beyond qualified. Mentally, she met the requirements. Socially? That was going to be a fickle bridge to cross. One she was about to meet much sooner than she would have liked. 

  Today wasn't supposed to be her first day on the job, the role of a profiler and investigative specialist for the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Much to her chagrin, it was going to be beyond easy. They had been assigned a case early in the morning, a Sunday. She wasn't given the full details, former serial killer, something about resurfacing. Something about an old vendetta. Something about a former agent who had spent the later half of his life obsessing over a lost case. Something, something, it was always something. Initially, Cassie was to be formally introduced to the team in a timely manner, in which it was supposed to negate any sour feelings or potential problems. Though since the jet was about to take off, she was unceremoniously given a pat on the shoulder, and a general gist of what she was up against. 

  However there wasn't enough time to prepare her for the mixed bag of people she was about to meet. Not entirely in a negative perspective, it all trailed back to her own social issues. She was easier to describe than them, and that was more often than not five simple words. 

'Hard to get along with' 

  The muscled figure stepped onto the plane, inching her way through the first enclosed space. Once she was on the other side of the thin door she was met with six faces. Only one was vaguely familiar, the other five were total strangers. It wasn't hard to place vague description to the silent confused figures before her. Nerdy, jock, kind, snappy, old. That's about the most she processed. There was obviously a lot more that had been described to her, but looking at them now she decided to just boil it down to the bare minimum.  

  "Lorayne." 

  "Hotchner." Cassie stuck a hand out to shake his own. A firm grip meeting an even harder. Calloused fingers met better kept ones. He still had a wedding band on his finger, that was probably the only reason his skincare routine was better. Not that she had any to compete with.  

  Cassie had met agent Aaron Hotchner before. He was working on a case that bounced back and forth between military and federal jurisdiction. She was stationed in America at the time, a fateful meeting that didn't seem all that important so many years ago. Today she was unable to tell if she was thankful for it or not. 

  Green tinted eyes met hazel ones. The stare was neither aggressive nor polite. It was just that; a look. "How is Haley?" Hotch's wedding band was warm, he'd been white knuckling his fist all morning. At first she thought it might have been her arrival that sparked the odd tension in the plane, however when a seventh figure emerged from the back end, she realized she shouldered the blame pretty evenly. It didn't take an analyst to pick out he didn't belong here. He wasn't horribly anxious, but he rubbed the nail head of his pinky against his ring finger. He was angry about something. Most likely the liaison she was told would be joining the team temporarily. This was his old case. He'd have to feel some sort of guilt, nervousness, or pressure over this. After all in some way of describing it, it was his fault this guy was still out there. You'd never hear Cassie admitting such a thing out-loud. 

  Hotch's response about his spouse was interrupted by another voice. A heavy voice, it was filled with confusion. "Hotch?" Aaron turned, Derek was almost out of his seat now. His skin crinkled as his nose scrunched. A half a sneer. "Right, sorry." Aaron took a step to the side, he'd gesture over towards Cassie. 

  "This is the new agent, introductions were supposed to be more formal but..." Cassie could see the way he fought himself to not look towards the odd man out. She piped up. "Liberté, egalité, fraternité." Her pronunciation wasn't that far off. It sounded practiced. It was. "French revolution?" The skinny kid's brows knitted. His train of thought was derailed by the ever consistent Derek. "We all know that one. What the hell does it have to do with this though?" 

  Cassie shrugged, awkwardly rubbing her chin against her shoulder as she did so. "Something about sticking it to the man. I was supposed to start Monday, but they weren't entirely sure when the team would return. You're as upset about this meeting as I am." The atmosphere was honestly much kinder than most situations she had been in. But she was out of her element, a fish out of water. Here everyone seemed casual, when her normal was the very opposite. All eyes were on her. It took her another moment to understand why. Thankfully with the change in pace she didn't have to meet every confused gaze with a stiff position. She was allowed to be as informal as possible. Still, impressions mattered.

  "Cassandra Lorayne, Cassie, Cass, I don't have much of a preference." Tan fingers flexed against her sides. Without her manual of squaring her shoulders, planting her feet together, and raising an arm to her forehead, she didn't know what to do. Aaron was nice enough to pick up the slack. He'd point with all five fingers towards each member. "Jason Gideon, Elle Greenaway, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, and Max Ryan. Ryan was a part of the initial case eighteen years ago." At each call of their name the member would give some sort of wave or awkward smile, as if the pointing wasn't enough of an indicator. 

  The air about them gave away the notion that they weren't entirely aware of her indoctrination to the team. Cassie doubted it was sprung on them, but the concept was probably only batted around before more important things stole their attention away. Aaron had known for a while, he was the only one lacking any sort of surprise. 

  A few moments of people watching later and the jet was already taking off. Nobody sat properly, instead they'd shift their positions to sit around a clunky laptop that Derek was opening up. Dark fingers pads clacked against buttons, a small ringtone, and there was a woman on the other end. She had blonde hair and a very personal choice of fashion sense. "Talk to me sweetheart." Noone on the jet besides Max batted an eye at his nickname for the woman. Reid caught Cassie's confusion. A cautious smile paired with a tilt of her head led him to notifying her with two fingers half raised. "Penelope Garcia, our technical analyst." Cassie nodded. "Your oracle, yeah?" She'd murmur back to him. He didn't quite catch the reference. She didn't get a chance to explain it.

  "Philly PD confirmed that Carla Bromwell's been dead less than twelve hours. She was forty-seven years old." Hotch and Morgan glanced between each other. "That's odd." 

  "Their age range is older." 

  Elle cut in. "Why would the victimology change?" 

  "That's not the only odd thing, she was found tied with flex-cuffs, not ropes." Everyone was a puzzled as the next person. "That's all I have for you, PD is waiting for you at the crime scene." Morgan just nodded and waved her off with another unprofessional comment. "Thank you baby girl." 

  It wasn't easy to tell whether Cassandra's perplexed expression was due to the new information, or Morgan's choice words for his coworkers. Reid would once again offer some lighting. "It's sort of their thing." It wasn't a very good answer, but a relation like that, one that hadn't violated any rules yet, wasn't something she was able to comment too much on as the newbie. Instead she'd take the high road and sit back with a thick file of the former case findings. Unlike most others on the jet, she didn't spend her time researching other murderers and serial killers. It wasn't from a lack of care, more the opposite. Her former job hadn't been much different, albeit more physical. But she tired from surrounding herself with the worst humanity had to offer. She'd seen both sides of the spectrum, but the most heinous interactions often crossed her desk. If she had put any free time into it, she would have taken the plunge several years ago. 

  Instead of a refresher, this was her first time seeing the details. She'd have to put a good amount of effort into reading up on it. Everyone else was familiar enough. The seasoned veteran of this particular killer didn't seem to keen on the help, which only created another barrier.

  He wasn't stupid, and if Cassie could hear the way her newfound coworkers spoke about him, so could he. It wasn't anything unprofessional just voiced concerns. Cassie wondered if she had listened any longer when those same concerns would be made about herself. She didn't have the time to worry about some other's perception. The folder was thick, it smelled like freshly printed paper. Old records had been tracked down and republished, it beat searching up the initial documents. 

  She'd read over the whole thing twice before flipping back to the first police report and actually thinking about the words in front of her. By all accounts this new method of killing didn't seem to connect the previous offender. If it wasn't for the letter, nobody would have known. Which meant it was someone who wanted to do this, not someone who couldn't stop themselves. Which, Cassie had never found to be an accurate description of a murderer. She knew other profilers would classify that sort of person as an unwilling victim of their own urges. She liked to classify them as dead. But this was FBI, not the lawless land of the military. Blue jeans pressed against the back of leather seat covers, repositioning herself at the previous train of thought. 

  Why had he changed? It wasn't of his own accord, couldn't possibly be. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. Her tongue caught between her teeth, sounding off a sort of clicking noise.

————————————

  Carla Bromwell's home was filled to the brim. The news reporters and curious passerby's were enough to give Cassie a headache. The amount of detectives inside was another issue. She'd split off from the two most comforting figures to take a look at the body. Gideon and Elle were headed to the room as well. "Agents Gideon, Greenaway, and Lorayne." The department detective raised a brow, but he wasn't given time to push the subject matter when Max came into the room.  

  "I was wondering when you'd show up." 

  Cassie didn't listen to the rest of their conversation. She might have been interrupting something when she spoke. "It's been processed?" A simple nod was all that she'd need. Kneeling down near the body, Cassie would carefully move her wrists and neck. The photos were an obvious indication that this was a different methodology. Elle took over, repeating Cassie's steps. Maybe it was out of distrust. Maybe it was out of morbid curiosity. "There's no bruising." 

  "The note said 'no fight'." Cassie tilted her gaze up towards Elle. Who was currently distracted with something else. From the looks of it, one could only assume it was whatever Max had said. Bad first impressions, but Cassie was struggling to really care about how the older man felt about all of this. Her scrutiny wasn't solely just from blaming him, more so his attitude. She didn't like it. Which wasn't actually saying much given she didn't like a lot of things. 

  Gideon broke the tense silence. "The wound is extensive, it's violent, he's escalating." Elle went on a sort of goose hunt after that. Not that Cassie would have done any differently, but she just wouldn't have said it out-loud. Her ability to work with others wasn't nonexistent, yet it did need an update to the manual. 

  "Elle's good at this sort of thing Max." 

  "Never said she wasn't." 

  Leveraging herself with the nightstand, she'd use an arm to stand up and take a step back so Max could look at the body himself. There wasn't anything else the could learn from it without the forensics report. Ryan pressed a padded finger against the woman's clothes. "I haven't felt like this around a dead body in a long time." 

  Cassie didn't need to hear anymore. He was taking it too personally. The former MP was no saint, she had her fair share of cases that she wore too openly on her sleeve. She had grown since then, to some extent. And in the areas that she hadn't, she kept hidden.

  As she was stepping out, Reid, Hotch, Elle, and Morgan were all coming back. Hotchner had a paper in his gloved hands. It didn't take a genius to guess what it was. 

  "In order for the light to shine so brightly, the darkness must be present." Max had taken the note, intent on reading it with his own eyes. The note offered two more context clues, a quote from Max's book, and the promise of a gift in two days. It was all an attempt at riling the former agent up. The unsub was targeting him specifically. Either a grotesque fascination or the perfect means of getting him worked up. An on edge agent is an agent who can't do his job. It was working. 

  They weren't going to find anymore than that. The behavioral team led themselves outside, only to be greeted by more angry reporters and microphones in their face. Cassie weaved through the crowd and dodged into the closest car available to her. A black sedan with tinted windows, a rental, something for the team to use. The department was the next agreed upon stop, from there everyone had done just about the same as her. 

  Unluckily enough she had managed to pick the one vehicle that Morgan was driving. The leather smelt of some bad cleaning agent and the air was humid inside the van. Getting comfortable seemed impossible so she'd opted for the self meditating movements of pressing down overgrown cuticles with her thumb. 

  "So," 

  She turned her head, her eyes lagging behind in the motion of facing him. 

  "So?" 

  "First day." 

   The car stalled to stop. Someone was taking too long to turn. 

  "Yep." 

  "That's all? No questions, comments, concerns? No issues?"

  Cassie's light brown brows furrowed. "Should there be?" 

  "No." 

  "Then, no." 

   There was silence again. The conversation was over. 

  "But," 

   Until it wasn't. 

   "Most aren't as enthusiastic to touch a body on their first day." 

  "CSI had already done what they needed to. I didn't see anything wrong with it." 

  Morgan let out an odd half-laugh, half-cough. "Again, I meant as enthusiastic." He'd tilt his head to the side, still facing forward as he spoke. His eyes never left the road ahead, but he made up for that with other movements. Every time he spoke his right pointer and middle finger would spread off of the wheel and point to who knows what. His right thumb tapped against the leather cover. 

  "I wasn't enthusiastic." 

  Her nose would crease with the rest of her face. An extended proof of her dissatisfaction over the comment, as if the quick change in tone wasn't enough. 

  "It was the first thing you did." 

  "But it's not my first time." 

  She watched as his bottom lip tucked under his front teeth. 

  "What did you do before joining the BAU?" 

  "You don't know?" 

  "I wouldn't ask if I did." 

  "This. Homicide investigation. We were all profilers, and detectives, and the law." 

  "Military?" 

  "Yeah. Aaron didn't say anything?" 

  "Didn't get the time to." 

  "Right." 

  There was no more talking after that. Further into the city streets Morgan would trade his hand motions for a thin pursing of his lips. Traffic was entertaining enough to drop any other questions he had. Or, Cassie just wasn't.

  There was no time wasted between parking the rental and meeting with the other timely members of the unit. They made their way inside the sand colored building and pretty quickly they had the entire department working with them. Cassie would take a few steps towards the back, as though she were yet another officer these agents were preaching to. It wasn't only due to her new rank on the totem pole with the team. She was also a little jarred by how quickly they where to adhere to policy and comply. Then again, this was the bureaucratic process, not the militaristic. 

  Hotch lead the beginning of the profile, as he went on the others bounced off of him. They were a real unit. Real as hers used to be. Most likely better. 

  "Over the last two decades, our killer has changed. The age of his victims is more notable." 

  The head detective on the case shrugged his shoulders. "The keystone killer is older, his victims are older too. So?" 

  "Most killers have specific fantasies they act out through their violence. These people fall under an identifiable few categories. He liked young brunettes." 

  "And that means?" 

  Back to the BAU members, they worked fairly seamlessly. There was no indication of a turn, however nobody attempted to speak over the younger Dr. when he chimed in. A commentary on Ted Bundy. Cassie only hoped he was brought up due to his known name, and not some weird fascination. Reid would go on to explain even Bundy had a type, a type that when he started to neglect, lead to his ultimate capture. In the same vain, it lead to more violence. 

  Gideon raised both palms at an angle. "It could be a sign that he's devolving." As though there was some invisible speaking baton being passed between the group, their statements moved from one to another. First with Morgan. "Which could mean he's about to slip up. Though, the devolution theory is just that, a theory, we can't rely on it." 

  "If he is in a frenzy," Hotch interjected, taking the mantle of the conversation again. "We can't tell how fast he'll continue to devolve." 

  "Or how many more victims he'll take before he's finished." Gideon curled his mouth inward. 

  "So, in order to keep that number as low as we can, we need to go over everything. Everything we learned eighteen years ago, everything we got today." 

  The oldest of the BAU leaned back against a whiteboard covered wall. He steepled his fingers together. "We'll start with the older profile, Max," The latter turned away, shaking his head and waving the former off. Gideon sent a look towards Hotch, who cast it over to Cassie. Her eyes went wide, then they scrunched up. Russet colored lips pursed before a curtly nod was offered. 

  "Right the..." She thought, frowned, then continued speaking. "We're looking for a man in his forties now, white. He's thoughtful, meticulous. His former means of killing suggests a law enforcement or military background. Most likely he's stayed in the same area all of his life." Had she been speaking too much? She passed the proverbial stick with a look of confusion. Tossing it's invisible form into the air and hoping for the best.

  Elle would come to the rescue. Then Morgan, then Reid, and back to Hotch for a closing statement. Gideon had meandered off after Max. At least, that was the most likely scenario. She couldn't really see the stern faced agent walking off just because he didn't want to present in front of the class anymore. 

  If he had, she wouldn't have judged. Her own presentation of the profile left a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't used to this way of phrasing it. It felt clunky, unnecessary. She looked for evidence and facts, not probability. A profile wasn't unheard of in her investigative unit, but it wasn't relied on in the way it was here. Psychology was one thing, making up a killer in your mind was another. She was still skeptical. Openly so when she had been interviewed for the position. They felt her stance was a fresh look. She felt it was a pity situation. 

  After wrapping up the main idea, Hotch gestured for the team to follow him to a carved out space for them. The blinds were up, leaving the goings on inside of the room visible to everyone. Cassie didn't mind. The openness felt fresh. The sun could peak in through the windows. Her old office had been without windows, the light fixtures were bleary, the paint job reminiscent of a filing cabinet covered in dust. She much preferred it here. 

  She appreciated the two whiteboards. Even if it made the room more cramped, it allowed the youngest of the group to visualize his musings. In her past, she would have just strewn papers about her desk and hoped for the best. That seemed viable here too, but with so many members it might have gotten overwhelming. She glanced down at the wooden fixture. It already was.  

  "We should focus on the differences between the crimes, what's he doing that's new?" Hotch breezed past the group, yet another Manila folder in his hands.

  Elle, Hotch, and Morgan opted to sit around the table. Reid stood, phasing in and out of his own little world when the conversation required it. Gideon was beside him, he put more of his eggs in the basket of the exchange. The self-certified genius was good at balancing them between the two. Cassie was comfortable standing as well, just on the other side of the room. "The victim was hit in the head, so that's one." Derek leaned back against his seat. "The note mentioned she didn't put up a fight, so why feel the need to hit her? To show dominance?" 

  Hotch shook his head. It didn't make sense. "He never needed to before." Elle thrummed her fingers along a photo of the crime scene. "But a hit like that wouldn't just scare her, it would knock her out." 

  "—To control her better." The head of the group finished.  

  Cassie's gaze flicked between each speaker, landing on Gideon as he found interest in the abyss. He stared towards a photo, but his head seemed somewhere else. "He switched from a knot, his signature, to flex-cufs." 

  "They're easier, it saved him time." Morgan kept his eyes on Gideon. He'd turn his head over his shoulders to catch Cassie's eye when he finished speaking. 

  "No, no, it's not that. The knot was intimate. It wasn't about the ease of immobilizing her. He chose a completely unnecessary approach." 

  "Maybe we should just forget about this, seriously. It's not helping us to go over what others already knew. Let's pretend he's a new offender." 

  The glass was cool against her arms, she'd trade her hands for her biceps when pushing off of the wall to step forward. A little brazenly, she let a few fingers fall to the head of Morgan's chair, pressing down and holding on as a sort of cane for her posture. "That's the problem, he's still the same person he was. We can't mull over what happened in the past, but we can certainly compare it to the future. He went from intimate, slow, methodical killings. He played out his fantasy with full physical control. So he traded it, for what? A smack to the head and a heavy lidded girl. He can't watch himself take the life from her eyes anymore. Where's the 'fun' in that." Cassie sucked in a breath through her teeth during her commentary. She let it go quickly as she ended. 

  "What I'm saying is—" 

  "—Guys, I have a name." All eyes moved from Cassie to Reid. She lifted her hand off of Morgan's chair and crossed her arms. Her hip dropped at an angle and she balanced more weight on her left leg. 

  "Nibrahs? What is that?" Reid bit the inner left part of his cheek at Elle's question. "It's backwards, S. Harbin. He was an original suspect." 

  "It's not him."  

  Max had finally made his entrance. He brushed off the conclusion, claiming Scott Harbin, S., had been in jail for stabbing someone. Sentenced thirty years, which meant there was no way it was him.

  "Unless he's out on parole." 

  Max didn't seem to keen on the notion. "He's a pervert and a small time thief, he steals undergarments. I interviewed him, twice, he's no killer." There were a few exchanged looks. Morgan picked up his phone and nodded in Hotch's direction, who returned it with a nod of his own. "I'm going to call Garcia, see if she can find anything about him." 

  Max raised his voice, adamant that they were being lead down a dead end. A second wave of looks. Silence. Morgan left. 

  "Jason why are we here?" 

  "Hm?" 

  "Are we here to catch him, or just prove to Max he knows more than us?" 

  Nobody answered, because the only one who could had left. The four remaining didn't have a chance to pick up where Cassie had left off. Derek came back in with a shit-eating grin and a notecard with scribbles on it. 

  "We've got an address for Scott Harbin. He was paroled three months ago, missed his last hearing." 

  "That makes him a wanted man." Elle was already out of her seat, pulling her brown jacket over her shoulders. 

  Leaving the station house required a bit more than a few rental and squad cars. Priorities were higher, everyone was banking on the fact that this was supposed to be their guy. A killer to be put away. It still felt too easy. However, a dead end still pointed you to a different direction. They'd be negligent not to take it. No matter what was about to meet them on the other side. 

————————————

  They'd been banking on the fact that this was their Keystone Killer, SWAT was going to be involved one way or another. It took a few extra moments to get their group in the door after the men in black. They took a more defensive stance and let the first three members of the BAU past. Elle and Cassie were at the forefront, the presence sent a silent figure to dart from behind a cabinet. 

  "Don't move— Hey!" 

  Elle practically vaulted past Cassie towards the man, grabbing him by his shoulder and sending a swift kick to the back of his leg. He stumbled over and she applied her weight to his back to apprehend him. "Are you Scott Harbin?" Cassie felt a hand on her shoulder, and instinctively she moved out of the way. Max looked down at the man being detained. "That's him." 

  "Nice to see you too Ryan." He'd smile up from his cuffed position. Cassie's brows met in the space between her eyes and tilted upwards. "You missed a parole hearing." Gideon commented. It was just an excuse, they had no reason to be here. They had no real evidence. A lawyer could dismiss his name in the riddle easily. But, an excuse bought them time and a search warrant. 

  The agents wandered through his home, picking up what they could just based on his arrangements. He was organized, neat, obsessively so. He needed constant control over every aspect of his life. It made a good argument. Cassie didn't like the feeling of it, though. She stood in front of him, her hands resting on her hips. Her expression gave a lot more away than just a train of thought. She bounced from theory to theory. Moss colored iris' scanned his form. Even going so far as to move behind him from where he sat in the arm of his couch. She couldn't see any injury to his hands. Nothing of note about his posture or physical capabilities. He moved his fingers back and forth, a squeezing motion, an attempt at self soothing. She didn't think this was the guy. As much of a creep as he was. 

  He looked out of the corner of his eye at her. "You finished checking me out?" Cassie locked eyes with him, nothing but disinterest on her face. She wasn't going to say anything, even if she was she wouldn't have had the chance. Elle made her way over, almost gesturing for Cassie to take a position behind her. The two were about the same height, maybe Elle had an inch or two on her. Cass was a little better built physically. Not a hulking mass of muscle, but you could see the beginning of a tone through her short sleeved shirt. She'd take the offer anyway and step around the two. Elle was leaning over in Scott's face, her eyes wide with something beyond disinterest. Fury maybe. "Did she upset you? Make you angry? What? You're fantasizing about hurting her, me? No, no you wouldn't do that. What's the matter Harbin, can't handle a woman who isn't afraid of you?" 

  Scott licked his lips. A sign of enjoyment, a sign of stress, it wasn't enough to tell just from the movement alone. Agitated, probably. 

  Gideon pulled Elle aside. Cassie didn't want to listen. She moved on from the room and up the stairs to the second floor of the home. A few SWAT agents still roamed, but she mostly watched as Morgan and Hotch moved back and forth. They stopped in the entrance of a room for a second. She waited, too many cooks in the kitchen. She wasn't needed anywhere right now. 

  "We need some help in here! Get an ambulance, now!" Morgan's voice was like an alarm bell ringing, everyone throughout the home heard it. Someone called out a response and raced down the steps past her. She was moving with similar urgency in the opposite direction. She was tall enough to see over their hunched forms, Hotchner and Morgan crouched near a woman. Her mouth had been taped shut, her feet tied at the ankles. She was wrapped in some sort of plastic. Awkwardly, Cassie shouldered Morgan to push him out of the way. She wormed herself between the two and pulled out a knife from her back pocket. Carefully she tilted the sharper side of the blade up towards the ceiling and worked it under the plastic. It took a bit of leveraging and gentle 'It's okay, you're okay, its okay' to get the knife to pierce the solution. Once she had it torn enough she moved to pull a blanket off of the bed above them. Hotch helped to cover the exposed woman as Cassie cut, leaving no room for any extended embarrassment. 

  The woman wasn't harmed besides a few bruises on her hips and thighs. That was good enough for Cassie. Once she finished peeling back the last of what was on top, she switched positions with Hotchner and pressed a hand against the woman's cheek. There were too many sounds, too many questions, too many voices, Cassie only focused on the lady's sobs. She did her best to murmur those same former phrases over and over again.

  What felt like far too long of a time later, EMTs came into the room and pushed the three aside. Hotch left the building first, his cellphone indicating his attention was needed elsewhere are the moment. Morgan got out of their way, heading down the steps to reconvene with Gideon, Elle, and Max. Cassie stayed, she stayed until they were putting the victim on a stretcher and carrying her down the steps. She helped at the transfer point, holding the right corner of the stretcher near her head. She hadn't repeated her mantras in a while, the EMTs had picked up the slack for her. Once they could begin to wheel her out, the profiler let them go. 

  Philly PD wanted to be the ones to make the arrest. It looked better to the news reporters already gathering outside. Cass could only hope they had enough sense to not photograph the victim as she was being taken away, but she wasn't ignorant. 

  "It doesn't make any sense, he was a small time creep." Max let out a breath as he spoke. Gideon blinked. "He fits your profile, the age, the background, the obsessive traits." 

  "Still—" 

  "Guys." Cass pulled a slip of paper out of the wipers of one of the rental cars. "It's.. for you," She passed it to Max.

Isn't Scott an inelegant monster. He harbors no light. He is pure evil. Balance is what produces mercy. You'll be reminded of my mercy tomorrow. 

K.K.

  "We didn't get him?" Everyone had started to gather now. The pause was enough to spark concern. Morgan spoke first, Gideon answered. Max was too stuck in his head, going over everything yet again. He was reliving the chase from eighteen years ago. It wasn't pretty. "He's not the one we're looking for. Form a six block perimeter, we have to have seen him." 

  But they hadn't. Nobody had. He had been right outside, waiting for the exact moment the police would file in like ducks after their mother. He had slipped off without anyone the wiser. The atmosphere on the way back was bleak. Everyone shared a similar sentiment of frustration. Cassie couldn't feel proud of her observations from earlier, it had only served to get off the sick freak who was orchestrating all of this. It sentenced another victim to a worse fate. The BAU's methods made her feel stagnant, like she had no more control over what was about to happen than a leaf did over the way the winds blow. 

  "That's got to be a first for the BAU, a killer leading us to another." Hotch commented as the made their way back to the little room they were given for mediation. "No, we all know they make the best profilers, it's how they find their own victims. It's how they think they can get away with it." The oldest would correct.

  "So we're starting over. Run by it again, what do we know about the Keystone Killer?" 

 "He's not dead, or in jail." 

 "He likes playing with us, he's treating it like a game where he's controlling all of the pieces." Elle raised her head as she spoke. Then Morgan, then Reid. 

 "He strangled seven women in the late eighties, stopped for eighteen years, then picked it back up again. Only this time he chose to suffocate them. Ten percent of violent crimes are carried out through strangulation, it only takes eleven pounds to incapacitate a person. Hanging on for a minute longer and that person will never recover." The skinny kid's ramblings weren't bad. Cassie could admire them for what they were worth. He was smart. Probably smarter than she'd ever be. The only difference was he learned his facts through textbook, and she earned hers through practice. 

  "But, he suffocated his latest victim. It's actually more passive than strangulation. What Lorayne was saying earlier, he can't feel the life leave the body." Aaron reaffirmed. 

  "But why? Why, why, why? Why change his MO, it suggests a blitz attack, yet in the past he walks right into his victim's homes without so much as a struggle." 

  Cassie's face lit up, her expression almost elongating in a moment of realization. She had never finished her train of thought from before. They had been so distracted with Scott Harbin that she had just forgotten nobody else was thinking the same as she was. 

  "We keep talking about this as though he's doing it on purpose, but what if it's not. What if something happened that stopped him. A sole loss of confidence isn't enough for such a drastic change. He lost his confidence in his own abilities, not his means of killing. A few years ago I was on a case that involved a serial murderer, similarly to this guy's MO. Maybe a little less showy— in any case, he started to slip up when he changed. And he only changed because he had been in a supply moving accident. Lost all control of his dominate hand. Couldn't kill the way he wanted to. He found another way, but it was sloppy, witnesses were around, we caught him." 

  Morgan leaned against the wall where Cassie had once stood. "So it's an injury?" 

  "Or a stroke." Hotch looked to Reid, who shrugged his shoulders in response. 

  "Either one, there will have to be some sort of medical records, right?" Derek didn't really agree with Gideon. "Alright, so an accident after nineteen eighty-eight in Philidelphia, that doesn't lower our suspect pool by much at all." 

  "It's too many hospital records." Spencer finally answered. 

  "Call Garcia anyways, see what she can find." Pointing towards the exit, Gideon gestured to Morgan. 

  It took a few minutes for Morgan to return, he had a slanted smile. Not good, not bad. "There's a lot of records to go through. Garcia's having them sent over now." 

  Hotch moved towards the fax machine as it sounded off, indicating the first few pages. "Let's get started then." He'd grab a couple, pass them around, and repeat until everyone had a handful. Cassie still didn't sit with her pile, she'd let it sit off on the top of a cabinet next to her while she looked through whatever her current file was. 

  Morgan tossed down a few papers, a frown on his dark lips. "We're looking for a guy in his twenties, is that too early for a stroke?" 

  "I still think it's a possibility. We're looking for a fair amount of loss of mobility." Aaron didn't look up from his stack. Reid did however, happily explaining the statistics around strokes. Something or other, Cassie brushed it off with a laugh that sounded more from her nose than it did her mouth. 

  "Hm?" 

  Reid was staring at her now. So was Hotch and Morgan. She shook her head, biting the inner flesh of her cheek as she did so. They all went back to their own files.  

  Twenty-five minutes in and it felt a little hopeless. The records Garcia had given didn't narrow it down at all. Sure a few names were marked off, but then again too many to count were added. "This is taking too long. Just for a moment let's rule out strokes, what's something else that could have happened?" Cassie mimicked Morgan's earlier frustrated motion and tossed her papers down. 

  "A car accident would have to be filed in police records, especially if it resulted in injury, right?" Spencer tried to pick up where she was leaving off. Gideon and Max nodded. 

  "Back then we profiled him to have some sort of American-made sedan." 

  "Alright, then why don't I call Garcia back, have her cross reference sedan accidents with Philly PD records. That should narrow it down significantly with what we've established." 

  "It's a long shot." Ryan seemed on the verge of rolling his eyes at Morgan, a slip of a few words from Cassie halted that means of response. "It's better than nothing." 

  For the third time that day, Morgan would return from his little 'chat' with Garcia. Only this time he seemed a lot more proud of himself. "'Think I've got something; Walter Kern, fits our age range, military background. ROTC, Air Force, his accident happened right outside of Bromwell's address." 

  He passed the already printed document around. Cassie skimmed over it. He certainly looked like the type. "In his accident he lost mobility of his right side due to spinal cord and nerve damage." Veiny hands rolled up dove-white sleeves as he spoke. 

  Cassie watched as the invisible stick returned to the playing field. It was Hotch's turn. "He installed home alarms with, guess who, Scott Harbin." 

  She sought to grab it before it was taken by someone else. "That's how he could walk right in to his victim's home without issue." And as quickly as she had it, it was taken by Elle. Tapping her pencil against the paper, she'd flick it back and forth with her ring finger. "He got his major in criminology. Shows to how he was able to evade law enforcement." 

  And from Elle to Gideon, "Do we have an address?" 

  "575 Wight Street Southeast Philadelphia. Got you, you son of a bitch." 

  That was probably the first time Max had smiled in the day that Cass had known him. There was no time to mull over it, once again the team was up and moving. SWAT was hesitant, they had failed to catch him the first time, leniency wasn't on their side. Neither was the press. 

 Cass was stuck with Morgan again, Reid too, though he kept to himself in the back of the car. 

  "You were right." 

  Again she was stolen from her thoughts by the brawny driver. 

  "Is that shocking?" 

  "Well, not when you phrase it like that. I was trying to compliment you, you know." 

  "Oh."

  "That's it?" 

  "No, I was trying to think of something to reference that you would understand." 

  "Like?" 

  "A philosophical quote, nothing good came to mind. That's not exactly my thing." 

  Reid was about to say something and Morgan had that look in his eyes through the rear view mirror, something that screamed break-check. Reid no longer had anything to say. 

  "What is your thing then." 

  "Nothing really. Oh, I guess something along the lines of I'm the Chandler to your Phoebe, though that's a bit of a stretch. I only watched a few— Nevermind." 

  Morgan gave a dumbfounded look, but didn't press the issue. There were bigger problems than whatever Cassie got up to in her limited free-time.  

  Gideon and Max took the lead on the entry of the home this time. It was almost deserved.

  They knocked once. 

  No answer. 

  Twice. 

  No answer. 

  It was bordering on three when the door finally swung open. A woman in her later fourties' answered, she had short brown hair and a tired face. Makeup, jewelry, her clothes were ironed. Cassie's nose crinkled. 

  "This is agent Ryan with the FBI, we need to speak with your husband." The woman quickly looked away. She was sheepish, confused. She'd stutter out a response to Gideon. "He's not here." 

  "Do you know where he is?" 

  "Well, I," 

  "Why don't you let us inside?" 

  She stuttered, again, failing to form any coherent sentence. She'd nod anyways and the team followed inside. His wife said something about volunteering at a community center. Gideon notified Hotch, to which Cassie gently pressed her fingers to his raised elbow. He looked at her, doe-like eyes squinting in confusion. She took a step back and mumbled. "Don't send everyone there. He's still intent on giving us that 'gift'." Jason looked her up and down once, then complied without saying anything in response to her. 

  Max had let the reason they were there slip, the murders, the seven victims. 

  "I'm going to have to ask you to leave, please." She didn't take very kindly to the notion. Then again no good person would. "What you're suggesting is absurd, and," 

  "—I don't think you believe that Mrs. Kern." Cassie took a step closer to the woman. She was taller than her. Height helped in most cases she had been on before. 

  "Excuse me?" 

  "I don't think you believe that your husband has nothing to do with this. You're dressed awfully nice, he likes you that way doesn't he. Modest, untouchable. Though, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that last part isn't true." 

  "Lorayne," Gideon warned. She should have listened, should have stopped talking. This was her first day, her first case, she had everything to lose. And yet so did an innocent girl. 

  "I'm guessing he has a space in the house, a room, an area, a closet, a chest youre not supposed to touch. Don't look inside of, don't even think about. If you did, Walter would get angry, wouldn't he?" 

  The wife took a step back. Cassie took a step forward. She looked anywhere but the agent's face. "He has a photo-room, but he only worries that I'll mess up his pictures. That's all." 

 "Eighteen years ago you noticed your husband fell into a depression, it seemed like it would never end. Maybe he was more irritable. You were thankful on one hand, he couldn't hit you if he wanted to. But he wasn't the same. Just a few days ago he returned back to his old self, for better and for worse." 

  "How do... no, what does it mean? Did he..?" Cass blew a quick puff of air out of her nose and stepped off to the side. She had said all she needed to. 

  "We need to see that room Mrs. Kern." She didn't miss the way Gideon followed her with a grim expression as he spoke. 

  SWAT was the first to clear the cellar on the left side of their home. It was cold, but well kept even from a quick glance at the stairway. Heading further into it lead to a room covered in photos, newspapers, anything relating to the case. He had a copy of the book Max had written about his experiences as an agent. He was a textbook stalker. Countless photos of past and present victims framed the steel-toned stone. 

  Reid flipped through a scrapbook looking binder. A collection of his killings, a story. There was a chapter missing, like he had referenced in his notes before. He wasn't finished, he had only killed Carla now because he had planned to kill her before. His accident had stopped him. It explained the extended depression. His fix wasn't just the killings, it was the perfection behind them. The consistent evasion, the methodology. 

  "Who's in the latest chapter then?" 

  "Sylvia Gooden." 

  Gideon stepped back into the room, he looked down at the image of the woman. "Hotch confirmed Walter left the community center an hour ago. We need Gooden's address." 

  Thankfully, for as much as a memorabilia fanatic he was, he included everything there was about these women. Including addresses. 

  The team was on the new sight as fast as possible, SWAT and Philly PD were right on their heels. It didn't take longer than a handful of seconds for them to be suited up and ready. Gideon confirmed Walter's vehicle was a block down the street. Preparations to go in were moving fast. Max raised his voice so the crowd of people could hear him. 

  "I want him taken in alive." 

  Which as fun as that sentiment was, it wasn't always a good one. They didn't have a clue what state they'd find Kern or Gooden in. Her life may come down to his. And while rotting in prison before his sentence was earned was the best possible outcome, Max needed to grapple with the fact he might not see satisfaction. 

  The blur of guns and combat boots breezed through the main doorway. Clearing each room was impertinent, and so was following the screams they could hear from Sylvia above. Gideon lead, followed by Morgan, Max, and Cass. Gideon trained his gun eye level before pushing open the door. There must have been eight voices, all yelling some different version of the same thing; 'Don't Move.'  

  Morgan detained Kern. He'd purposefully bash his side off of a full length mirror. A feasible accident excuse would work just fine. Cass made out the hand off to Max from behind her. Kern spoke of the former agent like some star crossed lover. She tried not to pay too much attention to it. 

  Currently calloused fingers were preoccupied in removing the plastic from Sylvia's face. She brushed her thumb against the older woman's forehead, checking to make sure the blood that was leaking was also clotting. It had already started to dry, she hadn't been hit too badly. Most likely because she had struggled too much for Kern's liking. 

  "Shh.. shh.. it's okay, you're okay. My name is Cassandra Lorayne, alright Miss Gooden? You're not hurt anywhere else, right?" 

  The blonde woman shook her head. Her body was trembling. She was sweating, her skin was clammy. It was taking her a bit longer to get the words out of her sob choked throat. Cassie didn't rush her. She'd repeat what she had done with the previous victim hours earlier. A gentle seesawing motion of her knife and the flex-cuffs were off.

  "Breathe with me Miss Gooden." 

  She was sitting up now, her shoulders heaving with another heavy cry. Cassie moved from her kneeling position to sit beside her. She pulled the woman closer and sheltered her within her arms. "You're okay, it's over now, you're okay." And she'd repeat those words for as long as she could. As long as it took for them to feel real. 

————————————

   Cassie was still getting accustomed to the whole private jet thing. It felt too classy, even if half the participants aboard had already slipped off their shoes and curled up under a blanket. Sometime she'd have to find wherever that stash of linens was. Though, for now, she was preparing herself for an earful. Gideon was moving from his seat to her end of the plane. He was at least kind enough to ensure the only one listening was Elle. To which Cassie couldn't mind too much, she felt a sort of solidarity in their methods, so hopefully the other brunette wouldn't be too abrasive in the aftermath of her scolding. 

  "You really think he beat her?" 

  "What?" 

  She had always been told to never play poker. Which was a sad comment given she was actually great at the game, just not great at her expressions. She could hold out in situations that called for a stern, unwavering face. But right here, right now, she was too wound up to keep her feelings to herself. Crinkled features gave a pretty good indication that she was absolutely taken aback. 

  "I asked a question Lorayne." 

  "Err, honestly? No. She didn't give away all of the signs, just some. Some is enough to incite a thought, and a thought is enough to be a fear. Even if he hadn't, she had rationalized that he could. Or, would, if she crossed a certain line." 

  "Alright." 

  "Alright?" 

  Gideon turned to sit down, he was done with the conversation. She'd outstretch a hand to say something else, but recoiled and changed her mind. 

  JJ had an open seat across from her, and Cassie would find comfort in the openness that followed.  

  "Have any of you been told about the time that Gideon was tricked into. . ." 

  So, this was her new home. For lack of a better phrase. It would take some time to fit in, and more effort still. Though, Cassie was able to let go of her fear for just a moment. It was the first time that day she had stopped thinking about the past, and hoped for the future. 

 ———————————— 

Date Posted: 04/24/24  

Not Yet Proofread, too lazy :(.

Next Chapter: 05/02/24

[sunoflegend]

💬 memory... GO

”… and, according to my sources, the Autobots have discovered a very viable energon deposit. Since going off course and veering directly for Prime didn't work very well last time, what I would suggest is... are you even listening?"

Two sets of pedes clink against the Nemesis’ hallways, one being the heavy, sound footsteps of none other than the Decepticons first in command, and those of his.. wavering second in command a short distance behind, following along with a datapad in her servos. Her expression reeks of annoyance. Tensions within high command have been on the rise lately, and her willingness to hide her disdain for those - or rather, the one - above her has only dwindled. Why does she even bother giving these reports, her insight on military strategy if he just charges off and does what he wants anyways? Sure, he might be Decepitcon leader, but that doesn't mean he can just.. disregard her strategy in favor of what he wants! They're trying to run a rebellion here, not his personal vendetta.

His helm glances over to her, the same resentment mirrored back towards her.

"No - I tend to stop once you start your insults."

Such a statement only makes her glare intensify and her resolve harden. Energon was important right now, dammit, and she'd make him see that.

"It's not an insult, it's the truth! We aren't going to win this war if you don't listen to me when I say we need to focus on what's actually important, not your petty squabbles with Prime-"

His pedesteps stop, as do hers shortly after. Maybe.. maybe she could've stood to mince her words just a little more there. That resentment has evolved into fully fledged fury, and his optics burn with it; volatile and all consuming. Her wings angle themselves downwards on instinct - an attempt to make herself seem smaller, remorseful; despite the fact they both know that isn't true. A hand reaches and places itself on her shoulder, gripping just tightly enough to sink into her plating. She makes a show of keeping a straight face as he pulls her closer, looking her directly in the optics with a simmering rage.

"I am the one in charge here - it would serve you best to remember that."

The threat hidden in his growl is not at all subtle. She's pushed away shortly after, a moments pause where he simply stares before continuing his previous path. She's left standing, a few stray glances and talks behind the servo from the bots around, with no progress made. Why does she even bother. All she gets for it is a few new dents to go to Knockout with and a datapad full of plans that don't matter.

[classiqals]

this was nothing new for the experienced egyptian spy. in fact, as he settled down into the chair with both arms on it's rest, leaning comfortably against the back sitting tall, kamal took note how this interrogation room was far nicer than some he'd experienced before. the fluttering heartrate contained in his chest was exactly why he loved his job; this is what thrills are made of. @theopulenthq

Hello, can you please tell me your name, country, && what role you provide your court?

" yes sir, i am kamal hattem, i serve the abdul crown in their royal guard, specifically assigned to the safety of sultana ferah. i have held this station in court for the past three years. " earned through falsified papers, but this of course, was left unmentioned.

And who do you believe to be your closest allies, either nations or individuals? Do you trust your allies?

" truthfully, it is not necessarily my place to decide who my allies may be. i am given orders, such as to accompany the sultana here, and i carry them out. trust is above my pay grade. " for a moment, kamal held his breath, unsure if the answer would be accepted. the interrogator scribbled down a note, and then continued, and kamal's eyebrows raised in slight surprise at how easy this was.

Ah, yes, I see... how about your enemies, then. Who do you not align yourself with, and why?

" anyone who stands to oppose sultana ferah, i suppose. " a one-shouldered shrug accompanied the nonchalant words. the nonchalance and blind devotion was a practiced mask.

Interesting. Do you have a personal vendetta against any of the courts, or even individuals, here?

there it was. kamal felt tension grow between his shoulder blades, now that their eyes met, and he was asked a question of personal nature. every lie needed some truth; so kamal focused on his friends in court, those he may have to pretend he held no bond with. " i cannot... " kamal gave off the impression he was thinking seriously about it. " ... say that i do, actually. none that i believe would have involvement in the recent violence. "

What are your thoughts on the mysterious deaths in so many royal families?

" it is all very sad, and i feel fortunate that the family i serve was not directly targeted, but we feel persia's loss as if it were our own. " a pause, and kamal's expression changed to genuine concern. " left unchecked, i fear the terror would have ruled us all. perhaps that is meant to the point. the attacks did seem... random. " and he knew how it looked; how easy it would be to shift blame to sultan rostam's unique position, sitting head over persia and standing to potentially gain so much in turkey in the event of tragedy to the current ruler... but kamal hoped it would not come to that.

How do you feel about the system of monarchy as a whole?

this took kamal by surprise, and he nearly broke character to laugh. " i never really thought of myself in the position to consider such things. with any system, i believe that... " how was he to know what to say here? the interrogator revealed nothing in their eyes. " there are things that could improve, but who am i to say so? "

So, what would be your best theory as to what is going on, then?

now he understood. " so you think the attacks have something to do with unrest among the opinion towards monarchy? " silence met his question, and kamal swallowed. " i mean, it is a good theory, and better than anything i could have come up. "

Thank you for your time. Is there anything else you'd like to add, anything else that would be useful to the investigation?

now was the chance to win standing for his court, and his own place, within the mughal empire. it almost hurt to do so - the flash of blue eyes coming to mind, a mysterious smile, and kamal steeled himself. " i was asked an interesting question at the ball, regarding an enquiry from sultan rostam about their brothers travel plans. perhaps his answers would be more revealing than mine, as he seems to be conducting a more personal investigation. " standing, kamal gave a respectful half bow, eager to leave and prepare a report for his spymaster. " if you have any more questions, you know where to find me. "

[dcccivcr]

Hello, can you please tell me your name, country, && what role you provide your court?

"Ji Xinyuan," the man answers, after a moment of hesitation. Better not to bother an inconsequential member of the court with his formal name that he will not use. Ji Fei. I, Ji Fei— six years, but it still feels like talking about a stranger. "I proudly serve the nation of China as a bodyguard for the imperial family — these days, I am tasked with her highness Qing Kai-ming's safety."

And who do you believe to be your closest allies, either nations or individuals? Do you trust your allies?

"My allegiance is to His Imperial Majesty first, and his family second," a simple response, accompanied by the slightest quirk of an eyebrow, the expression of someone who is torn between surprise and offense. A quiet gesture that clearly seems to question the intelligence of the questioner. "A sword does not need to trust the hand that wields it." A light frown follows — offense it is, then.

Ah, yes, I see... how about your enemies, then. Who do you not align yourself with, and why?

"As I said—" Xinyuan explains, calmly now. As if he needs to use simpler terms to accommodate the other. A mask, an act. He is the faithful hound of the Chinese court, all blind loyalty with no goals or morals of his own, honor traced only by how well he serves his master.

Does his obstinacy make him sound suspicious? Then, all the better. He is ready and willing to go down with the Qing dynasty if need be. Especially if they happen to be discovered as culprits, or accomplices of the deaths. What a sublime honor would martyrdom be, even if his name — Toshihisa, he thinks, with pride and nostalgia alike — is forever buried and forgotten, as long as his sworn duty goes fulfilled.

"I do not concern myself with politics. I learn the names and faces of the individuals I may encounter beforehand, as it is my job to be educated, but that is the end of it. My enemy is whoever brings harm to the honorable family I serve and, trust me, sir, if I knew of anyone intending to do so, they would not live long enough to make their attempt."

Interesting. Do you have a personal vendetta against any of the courts, or even individuals, here?

A person comes to mind — Lady Yamamoto. But whatever feelings he used to harbor towards her are entirely meaningless now. He should let them go. "No." However, the eldest of the Emperor's stepchildren could rot, as far as he is concerned.

What are your thoughts on the mysterious deaths in so many royal families?

"I do not believe they happened by chance, but neither do any of us, right? That is why we are here, to cooperate in finding a culprit." Are they, though? Of all the kingdoms, their host is by far the most suspicious to Xinyuan. The mocking gala, the gathering of royalty in their own home, this farce of an interrogatory as if they were entitled to lead an investigation that barely concerns them, having suffered no losses themselves. The possibility of exerting pressure over East and West alike. He does not trust the Mughal Empire.

How do you feel about the system of monarchy as a whole?

"Huángdì," he says, as if his questioner should know its meaning. "Heaven provides a wise and capable leader for us who live below for a reason." A Mandate that can be lost as easily as it is earned — the deceased rulers might just have been unfit for their roles —, but that was not the belief he was educated in. Removing their ruler — the Japanese Emperor and his wife, he could not care less about the others — was an abomination, that he hoped to see soon punished.

So, what would be your best theory as to what is going on, then?

"Organized assassins, hired hands— I do not know. But whoever the serpents are, they must share one single body."

Thank you for your time. Is there anything else you'd like to add, anything else that would be useful to the investigation?

No. "If there is any news — anything that could endanger my lady or her family — I would like to know," he sentences, standing up, then bending into a bow deeper than necessary. "Thank you for your commitment."

[underfell-brittle-bright]

Introduction And Warnings

Dead Dove Do Not Eat: It has what it says on the tin/ things are occasionally morally dubious without karma, instant karma, or obvious karma.

Specific Warnings:

Vendetta. Yes, he is his own warning, and anything with him in it will be tagged with tw vendetta, since he single-handedly is the reason for a great deal of these warnings. Moving on. War violence, nationalism, swearing, alcoholism, underage drinking, guns and other weapons, instruments of torture, racism, sexism, homophobia, themes of rape.

---

This is a world meant to be explored through dialogue. You will know as much as you explore, and redundant questions will be accepted, especially questions on a character's opinion. Tastes and attitudes shift.

---

In this world, Monsters are cursed with cowardice in the midst of The Human/Monster World War. Many are willing to fight for glory, but abandon those in need of protection if the means to help places them at risk of embarrassment.

Today, Monsterkind is divided between The Mountain and The Surface. Most Monsters live below the ground, relatively safe from artillery shells and bombs. They live each day only for themselves in 1940s American style cities within The Mountain. On the Surface, however, Monsters live in steel-clad military bases and see the expanse of Earth through turret lenses and crosshairs, never caring to enjoy the sights, even when it'll be the last thing they see.

---

You are allowed to ask any character, as long as you know their name. You are allowed to give gifts and physically interact with characters-- but the characters have the right to ignore, reject, and accept interactions at their own in-character discretion.

For asks with a combination of characters from different Worlds (example: Underfell Bright Sans and Underswap Beam Grillby), ask @undertalebrittle. It is the home of the Brittle Void.

---

Revealed Roster:

Frisk (Tack)

A short human boy with a shorter temper-- doesn't accept others talking down to him or his friends and family. Doesn't shy away from fights often. Has troubles with learning in school and wants to take over his family's cobbler business one day, just like his dad did. "MY PAWPAW DIED FOR THIS COUNTRY! I DON'T CARE IF HE'S "INVINCIBLE"! If he wants to hurt me or mine, then I'll break every dumb bone in his B O D Y."

Sans (Roller)

A sensitive mural painter and part-time construction worker. A bit shy, but friendly. Often watches over Vendetta, trying to control whatever damage he does. Collects pressed flowers and is a tortured artist. Unsure of himself. Responsible for keeping Vendetta in line and burying his brother's missteps. "Oh no, that's not good--"

Papyrus (Vendetta)

A violent military man who despises Humanity for being inferior to Monsters. He holds strength above all, and enjoys tearing people apart. Respects rank and follows orders-- in his own way. Collects trophies from those who cross him and enjoys flaunting them. Nigh-invulnerable, he enjoys making others uncomfortable by eating glass and bathing in lava. Living with his brother on the direct order of King Asgore. Blatantly racist and sexist. Collects severed ears. "LEND ME YOUR EARS, HUMAN! I HAVE VERY IMPORTANT THINGS I'M GOING TO DO WITH THEM!"

Muffet (Vintage)

A nomadic merchant who serves as her group's appraiser. She considers herself to be necessary, and occasionally pushes her chores off on those who let her. Her group travels the Surface and makes frequent deals with both Humans and Monsters. Plays the fiddle when she feels like it, and not before. A free spirit who hoards gems and precious metals for "future use". "Oh no, what a tragedy... Anyway."

---

Undertale Brittle by @kyne-grotto

Underfell Brittle/Bright by @kyne-grotto

(or Grotto-kay on DeviantArt, where most of the context already is.)

[iironwreath]

Sooth [Nepenthe]

“You’re picking at your food, bluebell,” Nepenthe said.

Azul blinked, coming to. Her spoon was perilously close to slipping from her fingers. “Huh?”

Nepenthe gestured to Azul’s bowl—she’d prepared her favourite surface dish, a stew made from mushrooms and the boiled spit of a horizonback turtle. The mushrooms were easy to come by and plentiful, but horizonback turtles cost a leg to import, with Dumaran being so removed from the surface. Azul normally savoured it, but she’d been pushing chunks of mushroom around since Nepenthe had served her.

Vierna sat across from Nepenthe and their daughter made up the head of the table, creating the three sides of a triangle. Vierna paused as well, laying her spoon aside.

“Something on your mind?” Nepenthe asked. “I can get you something else if you don’t want it.”

“Oh, I—“ Azul scooped a spoonful of broth and let it drip back into the bowl. “You know how Sister Athalia has an aunt? Do I have any extended family? Aunts or uncles? Grandparents?”

Nepenthe’s gaze flicked to her wife. Vierna’s lips thinned.

“The Children of Malice is our family,” Nepenthe said, unsure how much to divulge. While answers could sate, they could also beget more questions and Nepenthe didn’t want Azul to go searching. “Blood relations aren’t everything.”

“I know that, but I’m just curious, because if they were living here, I’d know about them already, right?”

Nepenthe slowly lowered her silverware, her appetite withering. “I can’t speak for your mother, but in sooth, you do have aunts, uncles, and grandparents on my side. They live on the surface.”

“Oh? Where?”

Nepenthe crushed her molars together, anger flaring—not at her daughter, but the memory of her family and how they’d wrenched away from each other. “I can tell you, bluebell, but you have to promise me not to seek them out without understanding the risks. They worship the Luxon.”

A collective shudder passed over the table.

Azul quickly shook her head. “I promise. That means it’s a place to avoid, right?”

“Not exactly. It’s the Many Hosts of Igrathad. It’s not that they’re all bad, it’s just that my family fell victim to the Dynasty’s proselytizing. Not everyone in Igrathad did.” Her family was unique—most of the townspeople had no interest in the Luxon or the Dynasty's affairs.

Nepenthe didn’t often ruminate about where she would be if her family hadn’t thrown themselves at the Luxon. She liked to think she still would have ended up by Lolth’s side, but her path to the Spider Queen was partially paved by her personal vendetta against the Dynasty.

Azul nodded, intent now, bracing against the table.

“My family was quite large. So, you have grandparents and four aunts and uncles on my side, if they’re alive.” 

“Each?”

“No, altogether. Two aunts, two uncles.” Nepenthe gave Vierna another glance, her feelings kindling warmer, with hope. “Maybe it’s not too late to give them a visit and see if they’d be interested in joining our side.”

Vierna's expression wrinkled. “I would say it depends on what’s happened since you left.”

“It’s been some time,” Nepenthe agreed. She smiled at Azul. “I’ll keep them in mind next I’m on the surface, if I have the time. But remember, you don’t need them when your real family is here.”

Azul swung her gaze onto her mother, bright-eyed and expectant. “What about you, mother?”

Vierna twitched, a shadow passing over her face. Nepenthe watched her chew over what to share, like she had—sorting through the memories that inevitably floated up.

“I wouldn’t spare them your thoughts, love,” Vierna said coolly. She picked up her spoon. “I doubt any of them are left alive.”

[bookofmirth]

Sorry, but I don’t agree with “TBH I think that Nesta still has work to do because a few actions don't make up for a lifetime of cruelty.”

Mostly on the basis that we don’t know what their history is. We can’t judge her “lifetime” based on 4 chapters of the book. Especially when SJM is so inconsistent about her storylines (like the whole Feyre can’t read thing).

I think your referring mostly to the fact that Nesta needs to atone for what she has said to Feyre, but their relationship is conflicting and far from being abusive.

And I don’t think what Nesta has done up until this point has been “a few actions” she has repeatedly risked her life for her family, and saved Feyre and her unborn child. She went to a high lords meeting and told them that it was because of Feyre that she even lives. She was ready to sacrifice herself in war. And that scene at Feyre’s (almost) deathbed too. I mean, what more actions is needed to “atone”.

And she’s only 24/25 so what lifetime of cruelty does she have under her belt. What can we glean from the few chapters we have been given that Nesta had always been set in this cruelty campaign against Feyre? Certainly not against Elain.

SJM has said that Feyre isn’t perfect and has made mistakes (mistakes that we haven’t seen but exist in their shared past) I don’t see it as fair to suggest that Nesta needs to do more than she already has for Feyre. Short of risking her life and defending her family, what else is there?

Above all, Feyre has said in ACOFAS, Nesta has more than made up for everything and that she’s already forgiven her. So really, it’s certain half of the fandom (and Rhysand) that hasn’t.

I’m genuinely curious, do you think Elain has anything to atone for? Or are her actions enough that she she has balanced the scale?

At the beginning of acotar, the sisters’ relationship was well established. Feyre wasn’t coming home shocked to find Nesta a changed person, so it’s reasonable to assume that her behavior had been going on for long enough that Feyre knew exactly what to expect. It wasn’t a vendetta against feyre specifically, or anyone specifically. It’s how Nesta handled her feelings, which takes me back to my point that Nesta needed to look inward for healing, not point fingers at other people.

I addressed my comment about atoning in another ask but to clarify further - Nesta has done important, useful, helpful things when the shit hit the fan. There is no disputing that. Just to reiterate, in my opinion, the important thing moving forward is that she doesnt resort to pushing people away again (when we know she doesn’t actually want to do that!)

I don’t understand why people keep saying Nesta is 24. Or calling her a girl. That’s a whole ass adult where I come from. Nesta was around 22-23 when the series started. A lot of these issues began much earlier, when she was a teenager, but… she’s still an adult. I don’t think it does her much credit to infantilize her character in order to excuse her behavior. She can vote, and drink, and rent a car in the US. She could be married for a few years, be a parent a couple times over. (You didn’t call her a girl anon, obviously, I’m just commenting on things I’ve seen in the fandom.)

Re: Elain, that’s the difference I was referring to before. Elain doesn’t look to intentionally hurt people with her words or actions, so I wouldn’t talk about her journey in the same way I would Nesta’s. Elain has some accounting to do, which imo she is. She apologized to Feyre already and acknowledged that they should have done more to help her. Your ask actually made me wonder if that’s why she’s doing what she currently does - cooking and serving food at her home, rather than relying on servants to do it. Helping other people rebuild their gardens after the war. Either way, Elain’s story is not going to be about reconciling with how she has behaved towards other people in the way that Nesta’s was. That’s not to say she’s been perfect, but she didn’t go about trying to hurt people. Her journey is different.

[voluptuarian]

Lovecraftian video games as a whole have their issues but I've never come out of one angry-- meanwhile I've had that experience repeatedly with movie adaptations.

I think part of it is so many of them are super hyped and then disappointing, whereas people seem to be more honest about games and give more genuine ideas of their quality. But another fucking element is how movie adaptations have decided sexually menacing women is the core element of Lovecraft plot for some reason?? (Even recent ones like Deep Ones which is from 2021 is a Rosemary's Baby situation??) So you'll end up going into something you've heard nothing but high praise for and come out not only disappointed at the gap between what you were sold and what you actually got but with a bad taste in your mouth from unnecessarily sexual peril aimed at women characters if not outright sexism (this was my experience with Regenerator, although I would actually have enjoyed that if it weren't for the callousness of the sexism).

But by far the worse one is Dagon. I watched it bc I heard so many reviews that were like "this doesn't have a big budget but it's probably the best Lovecraft adaptation ever" (which like, that doesn't mean much but whatever) and despite having seen it months ago I still regularly feel mad about it 🤣 it's just 0 stars, the characters are shallow and kind of unlikable, the cosmic horror elements are there but they don't feel right, the fear of hybridization is much more akin to fear of disabled people with the mc chased through the city by what amounts to a freakshow that made me uncomfortable in a way I hope was unintended, it's full of added unnecessary lurid nastiness that doesn't match Lovecraft's tone or horror style and doesn't even really make sense (why are we skinning people? And why alive?? And we dont even do anything with the skins apparently? Beyond "ooh they're nasty and gross" what does it accomplish for the plot? Why did this woman need her arms ripped off, especially since the whole reason she was here is to get pregnant and now she's going to bleed out?? It doesn't have any real logic, it doesn't make internal sense, it doesn't add anything, and it's not in the spirit of the material being adapted, it's just schlock and nasty??) And the women serve literally no purpose other than as sexual targets. Even the priestess, who's probably the most developed character only exists to simultaneously seduce and repel the mc with her body. (I did like her design and her her little ceremonial outfit, and thought her situation of being powerful but trapped was interesting-- basically the entirety of good things I have to say about this movie 😂) But even that could have been an interesting way of signifying the fear/attraction of transformation if every other woman wasn't also there to get sexually assaulted and exploited! (Also, and I'm being petty here, the fucking constant rain didn't add to the atmosphere, it was just annoying and made it harder to see.) Like there was basically nothing about this movie that I liked, thought was well done, or honored or enhanced the source material and so much that I deeply disliked about it. In fact it offended me on an artistic level. And all that after seeing so much good press-- I now have like a personal vendetta against this movie.

I don't know why if felt gripped with the need to trash this movie right now, but in summary don't believe the reviews, it's not worth your time.

[twcbelts]

@fromalegacy​​     roman   gets    some   jd   brat,    i    mean   becks. 

eyes    of    fire   ignite   bright   like    funeral    pyres   which   burn   the   bodies    of    her   very   enemies    as     gaze    finds    the    tribal    chief.     It   takes   everything   in   her   not   to   scoff,    scowl.    of    course,    the   double   champion   always   had    a    bone   to   pick,   a   chip   on   her   shoulder    when    it   came   to   him;   but   this   wasn’t   about   personal   vendettas   or   anything    of    the   sort.    she     wasn’t   here   to   settle   a   score,    but   rather   prepare   for   what   was   to    come   next.  her   match    was   right   before   his,    standing   backstage    as    she   waits    with    anxious   anticipation   for   her   match,    one   of   her   first   solo   matches   representing   the   judgement   day.  

 finn    would    be     escorting    her   out,    but   for   now,   he   was   giving   her   the   space   needed   to   prepare.    would    being   in   his   presence     serve   as   canon   fodder?   she    could   only   hope.     she    tries    so    hard   to   bite   her   tongue;    the   one   time   she   really   needed   to   behave.     “    .    .    .         uh,    ‘scuse   me   lad.   need    to    get    by   ya   f’r  a   second,   “    voice   is    flat,   without   affect    in    the   slightest.   It   had   to   be   this   way;   otherwise,   it’d   be   spewed    like   venom   and   surely   the   irish    woman    would   display   the    brute    anger    kept   trapped   within.   index    finger   points   at   rack   of    jackets   behind   him    before   maneuvering    around   him.    slowly,   digits   begin    to   rifle   through   the   collection.    

[more-than-a-princess]

@cantillat asked: “has anyone ever taken care of you?” from Shirou, and he doesn't mean as in being served by someone...

A Court of Thorns and Roses starters - Accepting one more!

Frankly, Sonia didn't even care who blabbed to him as to where to find her. She had an entire castle as her home, albeit one with barred-up windows (for her safety) and a wine cellar (for her sanity, though others debated that point). There were plenty of places for the queen to hide, at least when her schedule was light and her freedom was nothing much to speak of. At least as a child, the bars hadn't been needed: now, they were necessary in keeping would-be assassins out, driven by greed or personal vendetta against the Queen of Novoselic and everything she'd done to tear her country, and the world, apart.

It was the fact that, for the first time in weeks, she'd managed to render her mind blissfully blank, with the help of a sauvignon blanc at two in the afternoon and a cushioned window seat in a lesser-used drawing room. It had been set right before she'd returned home from Jabberwock Island, but Novoselic Castle wasn't the center of business and social activity it had once been: the new Parliament saw to the former and the latter...well, what room was there for frivolities when plenty of people were still without permanent housing and a steady income?

Thus, there was no real harm in the room being a place of respite for Sonia. If just for the fact there was a wine refrigerator built into the antique cabinetry nearly ten years prior. The view of the Castle's expansive back garden, with the lake and the Abbey in the distance, also added to its comfort. She could raise a glass to her mother and father every day as a means of apology, and on her continuing quest to drown out their screams in her head. It mostly just helped the lingering pain in her shoulder, as if she needed a constant reminder: the scar from her bullet wound nearly a year prior was reminder enough.

"What do you mean," She asked blandly, unfolding her legs from her chest from where she'd previously sat, curled up in her wool shift dress, her modest leather pumps having been kicked off to the side, laying haphazardly on the floor. Clearly the staff hadn't come by to try and tidy up, not while Sonia occupied the room. "Is this not being taken care of, Shirou?"

Sarcasm had come with age: time and experience nearly ending the world had given her once purely sweet tone a bit of a bite. She waved her hand towards the rest of the room's splendor in emphasis. Maybe not the extra precautions to keep others out and the queen in, but the gilded gold furnishings and as much of the antiques that could be restored after her despair-induced bloodbath had been set on display, giving everyone in the castle a reminder of the traditions they used to once uphold and all the good the Royal Family had done for Novoselic and the world. 

Something Sonia tended to doubt nowadays as she took another sip of her wine. Was it glass three? Or four or five? There was a bit left in the bottle, so it likely wasn't five, but she didn't feel it necessary to keep track. Not after she'd woken up from the Neo World Program to a reality worse than the program's killing game. She sighed, setting the glass on a nearby table.

"But if you're asking 'Did anyone ever ask you how you're feeling today, or hugged you when you were sad,' then no, not since I was old enough to write the alphabet and perform simple sums. Childhood, in a place like this, is both fleeting and enduring at the same time: you are expected to provide an example for the nation as soon as you're able to walk, and yet the prospect of sending the heir to the throne to an actual school is incomprehensible until they become teenagers."

A pause. It likely wasn't the clear answer he expected, but then again, she'd never been what anyone expected and Sonia saw no good reason to start now. She'd been a disappointment since she was born, in ways she couldn't control. She further flourished in becoming a disappointment in new ways as she grew up, with her complete lack of relevant skills and interests important to ladies in the Royal Family. Well, she was the only one left now.

"What is the point you're trying to make in this?"

[captainmaplesblog]

Life of Lea Volume 3 Chapter 7: Head-on Confrontation

“Speaking of that…why did she do that? And how did she pull it off?” Lea asked.

“Honestly I don’t know, she just came home with the Vendetta spellbook” Daisy replies.

“We should ask her then, right?” Sergean suggests. 

“Let’s do it tomorrow…it’s late” Daisy replies with a yawn.

“Fair point I’ll tell my parents about the updates,” Lea says as she texts her mom.

“Good, I’ll bring you pjs” Daisy replies as she goes to the second room.

A groaning sound came out of the room after Daisy knocked on the door. The door then opens to reveal a sleepy Edward.

“I’m…sleeping…” Edward mumbles in his dragon onesie. 

Lea quietly takes a picture and sends it to Vanessa. Sergean shakes his head as Edward gets Sergean and Lea's onesies. 

“How many do you have?” Lea asks curiously.

“None of your goddamn business” Edward replies as he flips them off before going back to bed.

Daisy shakes her head as she closes the door for him before giving the onesies to Lea and Sergean.

“Lea, you get the guest room, Sergean you sleep on the couch” Daisy exclaims.

“That’s fair” Sergean replies as Lea looks at the onesie confused.

“Uh, I’ve never worn one of these…what’s the protocol? Do you wear just your undies or a shirt? Or are you going to be naked? I heard that you can get hot in this” Lea thought to herself.

Daisy then takes Lea to the guest room that was upstairs.

“Good night, Lea” Daisy exclaims as she looks like she is ready to go back to sleep.

“Night Daisy” Lea replies before going into the guest room.

The next morning, Sergean went to the guest room to wake Lea up. He came into the room to see Lea curled up in bed in the fiddle position.

“The need for safe sleep position…Lea…what feelings are you hiding?” Sergean thinks to himself as he looks at Lea with concern. 

He gently shakes her to wake her up. Lea slowly turned to look at him as she woke up.

“Morning Lea, you sleep ok?” Sergean asks.

“Yea just fine…” Lea grumbled as she awakened with a headache.

“Alright then let’s get going then” Sergean replies. 

Lea groans as she slowly gets up and follows him to the kitchen. Daisy looks at them curiously before getting Lea some Tylenol. 

“Thank you…” Lea mutters as she takes the Tylenol with some water. 

Edward yawns lightly as he has his face against the table as he has his onesie hood covering his face.

“Edward, please sit up straight you're getting your drool on the table” Daisy exclaims.

Edward grumbles as he sits up with a slouch.

“Not a morning person either, same here my dude,” Lea thought to herself as she served herself breakfast.

Edward served herself breakfast leaving his drool puddle on the table. 

“Clean up your drool puddle, Edward” Lea says a bit in disgust.

Edward makes grumbling sounds as he grabs a napkin to clean up his drool puddle.

“Thank you, Lea I didn’t want to clean that up again, anyways I called Mimi this morning and they went to Mimi and Nick’s house to sleepover since they have plenty of room, we’ll confront her when we go over there” Daisy exclaims.

“Fair and where do they live?” Lea asks curiously.

“They live in the Nature region, down the forest from where Mimi, Glendora, and Max grew up Daisy replied.

“She hasn’t visited that house for a long time, huh?” Lea asks with an odd sad tone.

“No, she hasn’t dared to do so yet…I mean it’s been 3 years but I think she just wants to get justice for her parents and family” Daisy replies.

“That’s understandable” Sergean implied as he looked at Lea curiously. 

“Then would she choose to live near that house? Is it because the area is safe or she’s healed enough to live in the same community?” Lea thought to herself. 

They then get ready and leave to go over to Mimi and Nick’s house in the Nature Region. Lea checks her phone to see how Vanessa is doing, only to see a reaction text for the photo of Edward. 

“Everything ok, Lea?” Sergean asks her.

“Peachy let’s just get this over with” Lea replied.

Daisy had already knocked on the front door as they waited for someone to let them in. Cloud then appears at the window before going to get Dad. Dad eventually comes with Cloud and opens the door.

“Welcome back,” Dad says with a tired smile on his face.

“Oh, it’s you guys, sorry for almost barking at you” Cloud exclaims shyly.

“It’s fine, you’re still getting used to being human” Daisy replies as they come inside. 

“Are you still color blind as a human?” Lea asks Cloud.

“I don’t know what you mean” Cloud replies confused.

They then meet up with the others in the kitchen to have and finish breakfast. Mom gets up from her chair goes to Lea and hugs her gently.

“Thank you for coming back safe,” Mom says as she hugs Lea, then Sergean, and then Daisy.

Lea and Sergean nod as Daisy brings over Kitty and Sparrow on the cloud wagon. Mimi goes up to them as her brown hair bounces with each footstep. 

“While you both are here, you both will behave until we take you both to the police for casting a chaos spell on the townsfolk of Fri Town,” Mimi says with a stern and annoyed tone.

“Oh of course best of behavior, Madam Sour Puss” Kitty replies.

“Yes, yes nothing for the best” Sparrow says with a snarky tone.

Daisy then lets them free as they fall face-planted on the floor.

“O-Ow” Kitty mutters as his crown has fallen to the floor with them.

“You okay, buddy?” Sparrow asks him with a slightly concerned voice. 

“Yea I’m okay and you?” Kitty asks with slight concern.

“I’m fine and thanks for saving me” Sparrow as they helped each other up. 

Daisy then takes Lea, Sergean, and Mimi to a guest room. Mimi looks at Daisy confused and yet curious about why she brought them to the room. 

“What’s up, Daisy? Was there something you wanted to talk about?” Mimi asks. 

“Yes, we want to know why the Bad Apples’ Spellbook is connected to your parents’ murder” Daisy replied.

“Well…remember how when Rosetta got arrested the first time and her spellbook was being well kept? Turns out my parents were studying it so they unbound the ceil so it would be rendered useless” Mimi exclaims. 

“Really? And how did find out about that being in their research?” Sergean asks curiously. 

“When going through their stuff to keep or donate, I found boxes of copies of their research” Mimi replied. 

“Ah- well, that makes sense” Sergean exclaims.

“And let me guess you gave those boxes to the police, right?” Daisy asks.

“Yes, I did” Mimi replies as her stomach growls.

“And where did you get the right to take the book?” Lea asks curiously.

“Uh, may we finish this conversation after breakfast? I am hungry” Mimi replies.

“Ah- yeah sorry go ahead and eat, Mimi” Daisy implies. 

Mimi nods as she goes back to the kitchen. Lea, Sergean, and Daisy go to the kitchen along with Mimi. Lea took her seat beside Mom as she quietly thought to herself before grabbing some pieces of bacon to nibble on.

“Everything ok, Lea?” Mom asks her curiously. 

“Yea just brainstorming,” Lea says as she half-lies to her.

“Oh? Will you let me see your drawing afterward?” Mom asks as she tries to read Lea’s body language.

“Sure, I’ll show you once it’s all done” Lea replies with a soft smile which was a first for their new friends to see.

Once everyone was done having breakfast, Mimi and Nick cleaned the dishes while the others relaxed in the living room. Lea, Sergean, and Daisy helped them so they could continue their conversation with Mimi.

“So, what did you find out from Kitty and Sparrow?” Nick asks curiously.

“Well, that’s best left answering with the whole group, right?” Mimi implies as she looks at Lea, Sergean, and Daisy.

“Fair we can share with the group” Daisy replies as Lea and Sergean nod in agreement.

Afterward, they went to the living room and sat with the group.

“So, what did you there find out together?” Mom asked them curiously. 

“Well once we got to Fri Town, we made clones of ourselves and searched for Kitty and Sparrow to find only Sparrow in the town’s center in a disguise spell, then after we caught him, we had him take us to the portal that he came out of with Kitty” Lea replies as she explained the first part.

“Then once we got out of the portal, we used Sparrow as a decoy to get Kitty out, and then after Lea pinned him to the ground with a dropkick, we started our integration for Kitty to bring Mimi’s motivations into question when he brought up the spellbook of the Vendetta’s being taken being connected to the murder of Mimi’s parents” Sergean continues.

“Which is why we returned with to discuss” Daisy implies as she finishes their explanation.

Everyone turned to look at each other as they gave Mimi, Kitty, and Sparrow glances.

“Mimi, would you like to explain yourself on this connection that Kitty brought up?” Nick asked her as he gently held her hand to reassure her of whatever she was going to say.

“Well, you see when Rosetta got arrested the first time, her spellbook was being well kept by my parents since they were studying it so that the book could be unbonded and be rendered useless” Mimi explains.

“Interesting, please continue, Mimi” Mom implies as she took mental notes.

“Then when it came to going through their belongings to keep, donate, or throw away, I found boxes filled with copies of their research, then after turning those in to the police, I realized that their research would give the Bad Apples a reason to…well cause them to bring my parents…you know,” Mimi says as she finishes in a soft tone.

“Then why did I overhear Daisy saying why did you take that damn book?” Kitty asked Mimi.

“So that’s-” Lea says before Sergean covers her mouth.

“Ahem…anyways…I wasn’t holding the actual book, just one of the copies of the research” Mimi explains. 

“So, in a way, she was holding that book, honestly” Daisy replies with a sigh. 

“Ah-…now that makes more sense, I am sorry for accusing you,” Kitty says with a gentle pouting expression. 

“Yes, we are sorry for doing so” Sparrow adds apologetically. 

“A petty apology but alright I accept both of your apologies” Mimi replies just as sarcastically. 

“So, what is our next move?” Alyssa asks as she yawns in her seat.

“To go over to the police station in the Warrior Dimension, so we can ask for permission to go over their research to see if my parents were something that the Bad Apples would do a crime over” Mimi explains.

“Are we bringing your siblings with us for this part of the investigation?” Lea implies.

“Ah-” Mimi pauses before she finishes her sentence, “Yeah I’ll go call them and have them join us,” She says as she goes over to get her phone.

“Good call, Lea,” Nick says as he gently pets her head with praise.

“You're welcome, Nick” Lea replies happily.

Cloud looked at Lea curiously before turning into his dog form and going over to Nick and Lea before he started to be for head pats.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Mimi was texting Glendora and Max before waiting for their responses. Her phone vibrates after 5 minutes, Max was the first to respond first. 

“Sure, we will be there soon, Glendora is still eating at the moment” Max texted. 

“Still eating, wait a moment, Mimi” Glendora texted after Max.

“How long then?” Mimi texted them back.

“6 minutes should be a good guess” Max texted back.

“Ah alright then” Mimi texted back before going to the others.

“So, are they on their way?” Nick asks her as he turns to look at her.      

“Yeah they’ll be here in 6 minutes, Glendora is finishing her food her food” Mimi replies as she sits down beside him on the couch. 

“Alright then” Nick replies as he leans in to give her a gentle kiss on the cheek as he wraps his arm around her.

[every-dayiwakeup]

Steve gently takes Billy's broad shoulders, and the blonde just melts, like the ice cream Steve serves ungrateful brats (the ones he doesn't babysit).

"You're so easy," he observes as Billy lets himself become one with his carpet.

"You callin' me a slut, Harrington?" Billy purrs slow and sweet, his mouth quirking into a sorry attempt of regressing to his familiar scowl.

Try as he might, if he was trying to appear threatening, he wasn't succeeding.

Not at his current state; sprawled out under Steve with a dazed look in his eyes, his hair frizzed and sticking up in several different places, a lazy smile effortlessly spreading across his face.

Spending more time in the sun peppered his round cheeks and button nose with more freckles.

Steve snorts, shaking his head. His ponytail swats Billy, who swats back, hissing in surprise. This makes Steve's chuckle evolve into a full on laugh.

"Whatcha laughin' at?" Billy demands, squinting at him.

"You."

Billy turns red at that. "Well Harrington you ain't a pretty sight either-"

"It's not about how you look, jeez!" Steve assures him, and Billy huffs under him, yanking his chest hair.

The whole situation is just so outlandish, the pain only makes Steve laugh harder. "I just... can't believe anyone could ever be scared of you.You're literally so cute!"

He pokes the soft strip of exposed flesh covering Billy's abs, and the blonde yowls, blushing up to the tips of his ears. "'M not cute, dickhead."

"You are. I mean... you're pretty, too," Steve finds himself saying awkwardly. As if Hargrove doesn't have a big enough ego already.

"Shuddup," Billy mumbles. "Not cute."

"You repeating it doesn't make it any less true." Steve squishes his cheeks together, and Billy flips him the bird.

"My God, you're like a fucking cat. Wonder what happens if I do this?" Steve tickles the extra chub under Billy's chin, and a soft mewl is heard from the younger boy. "Face it Hargrove, you're as cute as a button."

"If you tell anyone..."

"Easy, Kitty," Steve snickers, poking his tummy again. Soft.

Both actions earns Steve a well earned sock to the jaw. The punch is a bit pitiful, but it's clear Billy is either very sensitive to touch... or maybe it's just that one part of his body that's sensitive.

Steve licks his lips as lewd thoughts play out in his swimming head. To be fair, whenever he was with Billy, he never stopped thinking questionable, sinful thoughts.

And then Billy barfs all over Steve. A grimace on his face, he says, "If you continue to think I'm cute covered in vomit, Harrington, I implore you to get help."

"Why'd ya...? And on me?"

"Because someone wearing socks with sandles makes me sick. What do you think, Steve?"

"That you have a vendetta against my chest hair?"

Billy proceeds looks at him like he's a cat about to spit up a hair ball out of sheer spite.

And perhaps Steve does need help, because all that he's thinking is, "Oh my God, he called me Steve!"

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