#´ ･ . ✶muse; 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘤𝘦 ⦅ agent twilight ⦆

[moonsmultimusings]

what's your literary archetype? ☾

the magician.

well, aren't you detached from reality. i don't mean in a delusional sense, i mean you purposefully distance yourself from everything and everyone. you have people you're close to, of course, but they're always kept at arms length. you're incredibly driven though, achieving your goals is extremely important to you. you feel trapped in the life you have now, it's not enough for you. you need more, always more. you are so hungry, and if you’re not careful, you’ll only end up consuming yourself.

tagged by: @braveryhearted tagging: @shadowedresolve, @ahogedetective, @system0n, @musingmemories, and anyone who wants to steal!

[moonsmultimusings]

@musingmemories sent: ❛ if you don't let me help you… i can't… i won't stick around to watch you die. ❜ from Yor to Loid (Angsty Sentence Starters) ☾

It had been a long mission already. Twilight wasn't someone who failed to carry out a mission often. Ever, even. He wouldn't have survived this long in the business if he made a habit of failing to complete the tasks he was assigned. Yet this case was special. They'd finally gathered enough information on the infamous Thorn Princess to track her next target. It was meant to be a mission to take down an assassin who had been targeting important Westalian officials, threatening the peace between the nations. Ideally, they could bring her in alive and use whatever information she had to learn more about those she worked for.

Yet things hadn't gone that simple. He'd intended to wait in hiding for her to reach her target, and dive in at the last moment to save the man. Or, rather, the decoy planted in its place. When he'd spotted the assassin's face, cast in the silver glow through the window… He couldn't bring himself to do it. Prepared as he was, he couldn't allow himself to jump in. He'd felt… frozen. And when she realized that she'd been attacking a mere vestige of a human, she'd started to search.

He'd put up a fight when she found him. Disguised as an employee, he did what he could to hold her off. But fighting hand to hand wasn't his specialty. Planning was. Sure, he was a good shot, and he knew enough to disarm most. But a professional assassin, fighting with her most proficient weapon? She'd barrelled over him, no thanks to his heart beating in his ears and an unfamiliar sense of dread tearing at him. What was he supposed to do?

The decision was made for him. After a slash to his abdomen, he had no choice. To prevent any further damage, anything that may be more fatal, he had to remove his disguise. She'd seemed as shocked as he'd been to see him, and in the interim, his legs gave way. Why wouldn't she be shocked? He clutched a hand to his side, wincing at the sting. Even with the adrenaline in his veins, it stung. It had to be deep. How deep, he couldn't say. The light was too low, and the red soaking into his clothes obscured any angle to better view the wound.

She still knelt by his side to offer him help, and he attempted to roll himself over. “I'm fine-” he attempted to insist, but the motion only aggravated the wound. “You need to get out of here,” he hissed, his tone low. He couldn't kill her, but he found no comfort in the idea that she'd be arrested either. She ought to be. It would make his job easier, but… it wasn't something he could think that logically about. He didn't want it to be her. She should be at home with Bond and Anya, and this shouldn't have happened at all. Or maybe… he should've been aware enough that he wouldn't be blindsighted by this.

And still, she wanted to help him. “I've been lying to you too, Yor. From the start. Why would you help me now?” She had every right to express the anger that he couldn't find right now and to leave him here. Bleeding out was probably the best way a spy could go. Better than being tortured for answers. He forced himself to sit up and carefully pull off his jacket. He could try to wrap the wound himself, but he doubted it would do much. “You don't need to stick around. Go home and get Anya… Move somewhere. Don't tell anyone where. Change your names, too.” It hardly occurred to him in the moment that revealing himself like this may put Anya in danger. Yor wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. That was what he sincerely believed.

[moonsmultimusings]

It was important to convey everything quickly and quietly. This was the way of a spy. There was no time to mince words. Yor needed to get out of here, and fast. The sooner she left, the more likely she was to make a proper escape. While the odds were already low, they only sank lower with each minute she hesitated. He was well aware of how these things worked. Those who took their time were far easier to capture, left more footprints. While he made an effort to convey this to her as quickly as he could, she resisted.

The first reason she cited was Anya. Wasn't that all the more reason to leave him here? The agency would have no use for him if he failed to carry out a mission. Twilight's position was secure only as long as he was able to see things through. Not even one failure was acceptable, as he was immensely lucky this one didn't end in him being captured and tortured for information. The best death one in his line of work could hope for was to bleed out quietly, under the cover of darkness, alone.

Yet Yor insisted. Anya needed him. She needed him, as she began, though she cut herself off. Not that he could blame her for giving up on this sentiment early. He'd just confessed to lying to her from the start. Even if she believed him to be more of a genuine father figure than he was, surely that would dampen their relationship, to find out he'd been so free in deceiving her. That he needed to be. “She's the reason why you need to run,” he insisted.

It was a problem he'd been becoming more aware of with time, that he was attached to his adoptive daughter. That he cared about her more than he ought to, knowing that this was an inevitability. That he would either die and leave her, or be forced to leave her behind after the mission was complete. But he didn't want her to be alone if he were to die, and if they were to catch Yor. He couldn't expect Franky not to move onto other jobs, nor that anyone from the agency would adopt her in his stead. If Yuri found out Twilight's identity, she was sure to be brought in for questioning. Relentless as they were, he doubted the SSS would take mercy on her because she was a child. That thought frightened him more than anything else right now.

She didn't seem to be listening. She mumbled a few apologies, and before he could think to counter the gesture, he was hoisted over her shoulder. “Wait-! Ghh—” he grimaced. No doubt his blood would run down her shoulder at this angle. It certainly wasn't too comfortable, but she took off running nonetheless. He had been trained enough that he knew ways out of this sort of position. Yet there were no physical remedies for this situation that wouldn't involve either greatly wounding his carrier, or pulling off a move he wasn't currently able to with his abdomen as it was.

“I can't go to the hospital,” he protested, keeping his tone low. It was far too dangerous. It would raise too many questions at the agency, and at his cover job there. “Yor-san, if we're seen together, they'll kill both of us… Anya is going to… lose both of us if you try to take care of me. Please. Leave me somewhere and go.” Speaking was a bit of a chore when he was dealing with the stress of being carried in this way, his tone bogged down by suppressing any semblance of pain as best he could. It was only semi-successful.

« @moonsmultimusings »

Locations. Targets. Phone calls. It had gotten to a point where hearing one ring made Yor’s heart almost leap out of her chest anxiously outside of work when simply shopping or taking a stroll alone or with her family. All the bloodshed she’d spilled had started to take its toll, every wound healed and scarred ached with the memories of earning them, and her body count weighed heavily on slender shoulders.

Maybe this will be the last one was a broken promise to herself every accepted mission, returning home to the warmth of a pink-haired girl’s radiant smile and feeling like she was failing her somehow. Anya made Yor feel safe, with such gentleness it made her feel… tainted coming home after committing such violent crimes with sullied hands that tucked her into bed. Terrifying to think how one slip up and Miss Anya could find out her dark past and preset, changing how she looked at her forevermore. A light at the end of a dark tunnel she came home to, made possible by the one man she felt the same about facing: Loid Forger.

Eyes of sea glass seemingly looked right through Yor whenever she returned home, inquiring if she was alright when she did her best to mask it all so he wouldn't notice... but he was astute in her agony from a bullet wound in her ass most recently and did everything he could to turn her bad mood around. If Yor could play that date all over again, after being healed, she wouldn't have felt like she'd wasted all of Loid's time during their rare opportunity spent together. A re-do, a proper date... another admittance of real feelings that'd started to stir. How real she wanted this all to be.

This mission was another chance robbed, a phone call requested directly for her and her expertise, the Thorn Princess the perfect assassin to carry out this task swiftly, efficiently, and clean. Yet another she considered to be the last, playing out the entire conversation in her head to have with her boss afterward in all the upmost respect, stress and anxiety stressing her out but still managing to swiftly carry out cutting people down along the way with flawless precision. Spotting her target, Yor saw him as a golden opportunity, to prove her civil duties could come to an end with this last criminal taken down and making their streets safe again.

But he was good.

Evasive, agile, the feeling of metal slicing through skin sang through the vibrations of her weapon, and Yor felt almost giddy this job would be done quickly so she could go home. The final chapter of her dark history... one Miss Anya would never need to know about. The finishing blow and... he ripped his face off?! Trying to keep her stoic expression, Yor had convinced herself in the split second lull she could just shut her eyes and finish him off in a mercy kill if that were the case... when she stared into familiar eyes, heart plummeting to the ground where he sat staring up at her from the end of her thorn. How she didn't want to utter his name, to speak the truth that would make this all a reality. But it slipped involuntarily. "Loid-san..." She couldn't leave, wouldn't. This sealed her fate - she would retire from The Garden because she'd never wanted her two worlds to collide, and this was the end result.

She was done.

He'd been lying to her. From the start. Confessions flew whilst telling her to escape and get back to "Anya-san..." Clarity in the name rang through Yor's mind like a bell, cutting through the fog. "She's the reason why you need to let me help you, Loid-san! She needs you! I need y..." Oh... she couldn't very well say that, now could she? How could she... after slicing through him, lying to him, and being made to kill him? Without bothering to wait for any additional protests, Yor whispered apologies and hoisted Loid over shoulders, taking off with as much gentle sprinting as she could. But she couldn't bring him home, now could she? Not without causing panic with Miss Anya. "Where can we go, Loid-san? The hospital? I can't let Anya-san see you like this... and you need medical attention!"