#I have some major plot bunnies from some of these

[case-of-traxits]

No True Pair Writing Prompts

So, for anyone unfamiliar, No True Pair is a community over on Dreamwidth that features fanwork prompts. From their community profile:

no_true_pair is, loosely, a mad-libs-style challenge. You make a list of characters, a set of prompts is posted that uses all the characters in different combinations, and you create works using those characters. For example, if your list contained Darth Vader and Mickey Mouse as numbers 2 and 4, there could be a prompt like "2 & 4 go out for coffee" or "4 invites 2 out for dinner, except..." and you'd write Darth Vader and Mickey Mouse going out for coffee, or Mickey Mouse inviting Darth Vader out for dinner and then going from there.

Now, if this sounds interesting to you because you like writing prompts, awesome! I made a spreadsheet of all the prompts available so far (383 prompts available so far, excluding round 10, which was a "by popular demand" rerun of older prompts). The community is super awesome and has an AO3 collection, so if you're interested, you should absolutely give it a whirl! I'm going to explain how it works here.

The Spreadsheet

(The section header is linked to the sheet if you're looking for it)

The first page of the spreadsheet is the instruction sheet. It includes links to everything and explanations of how the community works. You can see the prompts by clicking the "tabs" down there across the bottom.

If you have a Google Account and you want to play, you should go to "File" and "Make a Copy" to save a copy of it to your own Google Drive so that you can edit the lists. (See below screenshot.)

If you do not have a Google Account, no worries! You can go to "File" and "Download" the sheet to save a local copy that you can use. (See below screenshot.)

Once you've done that, go to one of the tabs at the bottom to pick a round. I'm going to use Round 8 in this example.

The Round Sheets

The round sheets look like this. You have a section at the top for your character list, and then the prompts are in the bottom.

You make a list of characters.

And then the prompts will auto-populate with their names.

And you can pick whatever you like to go forth and write! Now, obviously, I'm an FF7 writer, but you can do any fandom for this community. Or OCs! They're very welcoming.

Once again, you can find the spreadsheet here if you're interested!

GO FORTH AND WRITE, EVERYONE!

[ymechi]

The hidden creator

I had a plot bunny idea

TW: usual cult stuff, hints of yandere

-gn reader (I tried making it gender-neutral if there is a comment that is off please tell me and I will fix it)

EDIT: 14/11/2023 (changed some wording and other stuff nothing major)

Creator Reader Pov:

-You were just a regular person who one day woke up in Teyvat out of all places

-You realized you still had all your game features and figured it was one of the perks of being isekaied like in other isekai stories

-The whole thing is weird and why you were here, you had no idea

-After the novelty wears off you take some time mourning the loss of your previous life and the people you knew

-After that you try to get a semblance of a normal life like getting a job and trying to be independent

-Despite having a game system you do not want to be an adventurer or learn how to fight it's not for you

-You were previously an average civilian and raised as one it would be hard to become a fighter now

-Instead you gravitated towards creating things, you found an apprentice position in a clockwork shop in Fontaine

-It is fun and you get to tinker with gears and clocks, learning how various machines work and how to create your own items

-overall you are content

-Except weird people occasionally come by the shop you work at including the Iudex of Fontaine which had both you and the shopkeeper sweating the first few times

-Yet the man who insisted you call him by his name Neuvilette is really polite and nice to talk to, soon you warmed up to him

-You could not help the feeling as if you knew him from before, as if you forgot something, you were unusually fond of him.

-Your other "clients" if you could call them that were more intimidating, you had no idea what they were doing in this shop and it scared you

-The Fatui Harbringers occasionally stopped by the shop to buy a trinket or two before leaving, it honestly scared you and the thaught of running away to another nation had crossed your mind once or twice yet you liked your job and your boss and you made some good friends here so it was hard to leave

-Overall you were doing okay

-Except it seems the people here almost in a cult-like manner worship a creator that was never in the game lore

-It is said they resided in Celestia and not many people actually got to see them, not that it mattered for a nobody like you

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tsaritsa Pov:

-The Tsaritsa knew their so called creator was fake

-She knew she had to get rid of the fake creator as they and Celestia had caused irreparable damage

-Even if she had to stain her hands

-One day it happened something shifted in the earth, air, water- no the whole of Teyvat

-It happened so softly like a small snowflake landing on the ground

-She was hypnotized as if a siren was beckoning her she found you.

-You were their true creator

-You were wearing apprenticeship clothes tinkering with something in your hands and deeply concentrated

-She wondered if that is how you created the universe with careful and steady hands guiding and shaping it to your will.

-She wanted to take you away from this. . . small shop, yet she knew begrudgingly you were safe here, if anyone were to find out a sliver of your existence. . .

-You were safer hidden among mortals

-It left a bitter taste in her mouth

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Neuvilette Pov

-It just happened one day, out of the blue, he could feel it in the shift of the waters

-The way Furina shifted and turned her head unable to sit still confirmed he was not the only one feeling this

-Something happened and he had no idea what exactly happened

-There was this familiar presence this comforting feeling, ancient old instincts waking up

-He followed it without thought until he came upon an in inconspicuous clockwork shop

-He was confused but did not hesitate to step inside

-Then he saw you and everything clicked

-It was you his creator his universe his everything

-You were back

-It seems in this incarnation you were just a human

-That was fine he was oaky with that as long as you were here

-His heart ached seeing you

-He wanted to hug and ask you to never leave again to always stay by his side, for you to comfort him after what had happened and console him

-He should take you way somewhere safer somewhere better not here-

-But weren't you safer hiding among mortals, a part of his mind whispered, no one would suspect you being here even the fake (he cursed them) would not think of finding you here, if he brought you back with him it would create more attention on you

-Attention that would cause you trouble

-He left with defeat on his steps

-It was later he would met the Tsaritsa and a deal was struck

-All for your sake

[lividstar]

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤSLY FOX, DUMB BUNNY

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤChapter One

៚ wc: 37k

៚ fluff, heavy angst, wooyoung x secret agent!reader, slowburn, ???s to lovers, mutual pining, designated codenames for plot purposes

៚ warnings: heavy violence, usage of weapons, mentions of murder, dark themes in general

៚ playlist !

៚ Leading a life filled with secrets was never bound to be easy. From the moment you stepped into the world of espionage, you knew by then that there would be no chance to rewind the minutes once you decided to stand firm with your decision—you knew it came at a huge cost of needing to detach yourself from those you held connections with in order to ensure they wouldn’t accidentally be dragged into the dangers your entire existence in itself consisted of, but you had been taught better than to back down. And it wasn’t exactly like it was a hard task to complete, anyway, as you never had any problems with still being all by yourself even in an age where billions of people occupied the world in the first place. Unfortunately, life comes in a package deal with a surge of twists, and in your case, Jung Wooyoung, the presence that accompanies you almost everyday during your job as a librarian within the “normal” half of your life, was the twist in question. Who would’ve failed to guess you weren’t the only person in the universe who had major secrets to keep? Both you and Wooyoung himself, apparently.

a/n: i’m still on a break but i figured i’d publish this since it’s been sitting on my drafts for weeks lol (your codename is a shortened version of “sylvilagus genus,” a.k.a the scientific term for a cottontail rabbit) this will have a part 2!

Mastering the art of multitasking can be achieved in a vast sea of ways that all differ from one another. One could say watching a movie while finishing homework could count as a valid form of juggling two tasks with one hand. Multitasking could also come in the form of getting ready for a late night out while arguing with your partner through the phone. Some would even argue that opening different computer tabs at once should also be up in the list. Simply put, there’s no fixed context to it—it’s subjective, and you have all the freedom to interpret it in a way that helps you sleep.

In your case, however, mastering the art of multitasking was a journey certainly not as easy as the combinations of activities mentioned above.

Your journey into the world of espionage began in the most unlikely of places: a dusty, old bookshop in a forgotten corner of the city. It was there, amidst the stacks of ancient tomes and forgotten manuscripts, that you first met the man who would change your life forever. He was a retired agent, masquerading as the shop’s owner, and he saw something in you that no one else had—a keen mind, a sharp eye for detail, and an insatiable curiosity. He became your mentor, teaching you the secrets of his trade. Under his guidance, you learned the art of surveillance, the intricacies of disguise, and the delicate skill of deciphering codes. It was a rigorous training regimen, filled with sleepless nights and countless challenges, but you thrived on it. Your determination and resilience set you apart, and before long, you were recruited into the organization.

Balancing your dual life was no easy feat. By day, you immersed yourself in the quiet, orderly world of the library, where your meticulous nature and problem-solving skills earned you the respect of your colleagues and patrons. You thrived in the tranquility of the stacks, finding solace in the knowledge contained within the pages of the books you so carefully curated.

By night, however, you navigated a world of shadows and deception. The training you had undergone was relentless. Physical conditioning, combat training, advanced technology—every aspect of your life was geared towards making you the perfect operative. You were taught to be adaptable, to think on your feet, and to always be three steps ahead of your adversaries.

Your rise through the ranks was swift. Your keen intellect and unerring instincts made you an invaluable asset to the organization. You had a natural talent for uncovering hidden truths and solving puzzles that left others baffled. Your missions took you to the far corners of the globe, from the loud streets of Tokyo to the ancient ruins of Rome, each assignment more challenging than the last.

But with every success came a deeper entanglement in the web of espionage. The impact on your personal life was profound. Relationships became strained as you struggled to maintain your cover. The constant danger and secrecy took a toll on you, leaving you isolated and wary of those around you. Yet, despite the sacrifices, you remained committed to your cause, driven by a sense of duty and a desire to protect the world’s treasures from falling into the wrong hands.

The library became both your sanctuary and your camouflage. You mastered the art of compartmentalizing your life, slipping seamlessly between your two identities. Your colleagues marveled at your efficiency and dedication, unaware of the adrenaline-fueled nights you spent in pursuit of justice.

Each day, you donned the mask of a librarian, but beneath that calm exterior lay a formidable operative, always ready for the next mission. The juxtaposition of your two lives was stark, yet you found a strange harmony in the duality. The quiet moments in the library allowed you to recharge and refocus, while the thrill of espionage kept your skills sharp and your mind agile.

As you sat at your desk, a cup of tea steaming beside you and a stack of books waiting to be shelved, you couldn’t help but reflect on the path that had brought you here. From the dusty bookshop to the heart of a covert spy organization, your journey has been anything but ordinary. Just then, while you’re busy typing away on your computer, the door to the library swings open, the gentle chime signaling the arrival of a customer. Looking up from your screen, a warm smile immediately finds its way to your face when you recognize the visitor.

Jung Wooyoung.

From the start, Wooyoung had always loved frequenting the library. The elderly librarian whose place you took before she retired had often spoken of him. She was a sweet old woman, and according to her, Wooyoung had been visiting the library ever since he was a little boy. Over the years, she had grown fond of him, so much so that even as she packed her things to leave, she told you to take care of him and always ensure he left the library with a smile on his face. It was endearing, in a way. She had also mentioned that Wooyoung was a very sweet boy, filled with optimism and never seen without a smile. You’d been skeptical of this before you started working as the librarian, but upon meeting him, you quickly realized she was right.

Wooyoung was genuinely sweet. The first time he entered the library under your watch, he was visibly shocked to see you at the registrar instead of the familiar old librarian who had watched him grow up. When he approached the counter to return the books he had borrowed the previous week, you could see the unspoken question in his eyes, the hesitation to ask about her, afraid of offending you somehow. Sensing his unease, you took the initiative to explain. “She had to go out of town to stay with her daughter because this library doesn’t provide enough money for her to pay rent,” you had said in a neutral yet soft tone, remembering how his eyes had clouded with sadness.

Feeling a strange need to cheer him up, you had added, “Before she left, she told me many stories about you. She said you were a really sweet boy, and that once I start working here, I should always make sure you leave the library with a smile on your face. She seemed to have been very fond of you.” You could still picture the way his eyes sparkled with surprise and delight as he gasped, “Really?” You had simply nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile. Over time, you grew fond of his presence as well. Your days seemed a little incomplete when he didn’t visit the library. There was something comforting about his regular appearances, a sense of normalcy in your otherwise dual life.

“Hey, Wooyoung. It’s been a while,” you greeted him with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee.

Wooyoung walked towards the registrar, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy these days.”

Curiosity piqued, you wondered what had kept him so occupied, but you chose not to pry, figuring it was probably a matter that demands privacy. “It’s nice to have you back.”

“Really? I was beginning to think you were growing tired of seeing my face every day,” he joked lightly, eliciting a muffled, short laugh from you.

“I beg to differ. If anything, a shift at work doesn’t quite make it to the shelf of good days unless you pay the library a visit,” you said, diverting your attention from the computer to the books he had placed on the counter. “The History of Art?”

“Thought I’d check out something new,” he shrugged, causing the loose collar of his knitted sweater to slip off his shoulder a little.

“Always exploring, aren’t you?” you remarked, scanning the books into the system. “Did anything in particular catch your interest in art history?”

He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You could say I’m looking for inspiration.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Inspiration for what?” Wooyoung leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s a secret.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Alright, keep your secrets. Just make sure to return the books on time.”

“I always do,” he replied, flashing you a playful wink.

As Wooyoung made his way to his usual spot by the window, you couldn’t help but watch him for a moment longer. There was something about him that drew you in, a charisma that was hard to resist. And yet, there was also an air of mystery around him, something that made you curious and kept you guessing.

Another endearing trait of Wooyoung was that despite his sweet demeanor, he had a teasing side that surfaced on rare occasions—like right now. It was one of those fascinating nuances that kept you intrigued by him. There were many layers to Wooyoung’s personality, and each one seemed more captivating than the last. Sometimes, you found yourself wondering if there were even more depths to him that you had yet to discover. You weren’t exactly close friends with him, after all. Sure, the two of you enjoyed spending a few minutes engaging in conversations, but they were mostly centered around the books he borrowed and returned. Your interactions were limited to the confines of the library. Beyond its walls, you knew little about him. You didn’t have his number, didn’t know his favorite coffee shop, or even what he did on weekends. Were you acquaintances? One could say that. Were you friends? That was a more complicated question.

The ambiguity of your relationship often left you pondering. On one hand, it felt like there was a budding friendship forming, built on shared moments of literary discussion and mutual respect. On the other hand, there was a clear boundary that neither of you had crossed, a line that kept your lives distinctly separate. Perhaps it was better this way. Your life was already a chaotic blend of librarian by day and spy by night. Adding Wooyoung into the mix didn’t seem wise. Because of that, you often had to remind yourself that you weren’t just a mere librarian. Your nights were filled with missions and dangers that he couldn’t even begin to imagine. Bringing Wooyoung into your world would only complicate things further, potentially putting his life on the line. It was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

Sometimes, as you watched him immerse himself in a new book or share a light-hearted joke, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to know him outside of the library. To share a coffee, a laugh, maybe even a secret or two. But then reality would set in, reminding you of the double life you led and the responsibilities that came with it. Perhaps you two were meant to stay like this, connected within the safe, quiet haven of the library but living entirely separate lives outside its walls. It was a delicate balance, one that allowed you to enjoy his company without the complications that deeper involvement would surely bring.

In the quiet moments, as you reshelved books or sipped your coffee while watching him from a distance, you found a strange comfort in the simplicity of your interactions. They were uncomplicated, free from the burdens of your other life. And maybe that was enough. For now, you were content with the way things were—connected in the library, yet worlds apart outside of it.

While you’re busy working, your invisible in-ear device—designed solely for your organization to contact you and deliver news without blowing your cover—beeps. A voice mail from one of the higher-ups begins to play. “Agent Sylvil, this is Director Han. There’s a meeting scheduled for tonight at 2100 hours. We need you to head to the headquarters as soon as possible. There have been some developments that require your immediate attention. Do not be late.”

The stern and authoritative voice of Director Han successfully drags you out of your thoughts. The voicemail serves as a very direct and firm reminder of why exactly you can’t let Wooyoung into your world. You let out a sigh, the weight of your duties pressing down on you, and look up from your computer. There, just a few tables and aisles away, sits Wooyoung. To your surprise, you find him already looking at you. His expression is unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place. Before you can muster a smile, he quickly averts his gaze, focusing intently on the book laid out in front of him on the desk.

You check the time. Three hours before your shift ends and three hours before you have to go to the headquarters. The clock seems to tick louder, each second a reminder of your impending duties. You reach for your mug, only to be surprised by its unexpected lightness. You hadn’t even noticed you had already drunk all of your coffee, too consumed by your swirling thoughts. Sighing, you place the empty mug down and rub your temples. The simplicity of your interactions with Wooyoung had a comforting allure, a stark contrast to the complexity of your covert life. But moments like this voicemail snap you back to reality, emphasizing the clear line that must be maintained between your librarian persona and your identity as a spy.

You glance at Wooyoung one last time. He’s engrossed in his book, completely unaware of the clandestine world you navigate outside the library. Part of you envies his ignorance, the peaceful simplicity of a life not bound by secrets and danger. As the minutes tick by, you try to refocus on your work. Yet, the knowledge of the meeting and what it could entail lingers at the back of your mind, an insistent reminder of the life you lead when the library doors close. You can’t afford distractions, and certainly not ones that come with a charming smile and a newfound penchant for art history.

Time passes before you even realize it. Wooyoung had left just a couple of minutes ago, and now it was time to close the library. Thankfully, there were no longer any patrons in the place, making it easier for you to wrap things up. You methodically gather your belongings, lock the doors, and roll down the metal shutter to secure the entrance.

Once everything is in order, you make your way to the headquarters, located deep in a deserted alleyway that no one would suspect. As you approach the unassuming brick wall, you press a hidden button concealed within a loose brick. The wall slides open silently, revealing a sleek, high-tech entrance. You step inside, greeted by a sterile corridor illuminated by dim, bluish lights. As you walk, sensors scan your biometric data, confirming your identity. The walls shimmer momentarily before displaying a welcome message on a holographic screen. You continue down the hallway until you reach a large metal door. It opens automatically as you approach, revealing an elevator.

Entering the elevator, you press your hand against a glass panel. A soft voice confirms, “Identity verified. Welcome, Agent Sylvil.” The elevator descends rapidly, and you feel a slight shift in gravity before it comes to a smooth stop. The door then slides open. Inside, the headquarters hums with activity. Agents bustle about, attending to their tasks with a precision borne of rigorous training. The air is thick with the scent of coffee and the faint hum of advanced machinery. You navigate through the labyrinthine hallways to the meeting room, arriving just as the clock ticks to 2100 hours. You sigh in relief; at least you are right on time.

The meeting room is stark and minimalist, dominated by a large, interactive screen on one wall. The table is already set with a holographic projector and various data pads. You take a seat, maintaining a neutral expression as the Director, the highest-ranking officer in your organization, greets you.

“Agent Sylvil,” she begins, “thank you for coming on such short notice.” You take a seat, maintaining a neutral expression as she starts to brief you on a new rising threat hidden in the shadows. “Our security patrol has reported the appearance of a new thief on the scene.”

You shift slightly in your seat, intrigued but careful to remain composed. “So far, we’ve managed to gather only a few pieces of information,” Director Han says, her tone grim. “This thief is a young man, around your age, and has been given the codename ‘Crimson Fox’ as a patrol member had described him to us as a stealthy, cunning being. Despite our best efforts, we’ve been unable to track him or gather any substantial intel, which is highly unusual for our operations.”

Your curiosity is piqued now. “And what makes him so different from the others we’ve dealt with?” you ask, leaning forward.

Director Han taps the air, and a screen projects in front of you, displaying the image of a priceless painting by an obscure Renaissance artist named “The Midnight Watch.”

“What about this?” you inquired, needing further context as to why she was showing you this painting in particular.

“Based on the analysis made by Director Kang, the Crimson Fox is most likely eyeing this artifact as his target,” she continues, “and because of this, we’re assigning you the mission to capture the Crimson Fox and prevent him from getting his hands on this artifact at all costs.”

You study the projected screen, reading a particular statement that says this painting is highly guarded. You then click on the arrow button on the right to read the other pages containing further information. “It says here that this painting does not hold any significant form of value,” you point out, turning to Director Han. “Shouldn’t this mission be passed down to an agent of a lower rank?”

“Do not question your duties,” she interjects, coming off a little too defensive than necessary, making your eyebrows slightly furrow in confusion. Noticing the expression on your face, she clears her throat, composing herself.

“Well, we cannot pass this down to a less experienced agent because the Crimson Fox is not like any of the thieves you’ve encountered before. His methods are untraceable,” she admits. “He leaves no clues behind. Our tech team has been working around the clock to find any digital footprints, but so far, they’ve come up empty-handed. His skills are... unprecedented.”

You nod slowly, processing the information. “Hence why you believe I’m the best person for this mission?” you ask, needing to hear it from her directly.

Director Han’s gaze is intense as she looks at you. “Precisely. If you complete this mission successfully, you will be promoted to a higher-up position. If you fail, the consequences won’t fall solely on you—but rather on the entire organization. A professional criminal on the loose is unacceptable.”

She pauses for a moment, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. “We believe you are the only one capable of catching him. Your track record speaks for itself, and your unique skill set makes you the ideal candidate.”

You take a deep breath. “I understand,” you say firmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him in.”

Director Han nods approvingly. “Good. We’ve gathered all the intel we could on the Crimson Fox, although it’s not much. You’ll find the files in your personal database. Study them thoroughly. We need you to be ready for anything.” She taps a few buttons on the console, and the screen shifts to display a detailed map of the Crimson Fox’s recent sightings. “These are the sites of his recent activities. Notice the pattern?”

You squint at the map, recognizing the strategic positioning of each move of his. “He’s traveling in a circle, gradually tightening the radius around... here,” you point to a central location.

“Precisely,” the Director confirms. “That’s why we need to act fast before he gets his hands on The Midnight Watch.”

You rise from your seat, nodding at Director Han with a firm gaze. “Consider it done.”

When you leave the meeting room, you tap the high-tech wristwatch you wear, which then automatically transforms your attire from the pencil skirt and white dress shirt you wore for work at the library into your high-tech suit. The suit itself is a marvel of modern engineering, designed specifically for covert operations. Made from a lightweight, flexible material known as nanotex, it adapts to your body’s movements, providing both comfort and protection. The outer layer is reinforced with a graphene mesh that can deflect small-caliber bullets and absorb impacts, while the inner layer is equipped with temperature-regulating technology to keep you comfortable in any environment.

Embedded within the suit are a series of micro-circuits that allow for advanced functionalities. A holographic interface on your left forearm can project a variety of tools, from a digital map to hacking devices. The gloves are equipped with micro-suction technology, enabling you to scale vertical surfaces with ease. Your boots contain silent thrusters for controlled leaps and soft landings, ensuring your movements remain undetected. The suit’s most impressive feature, however, is its adaptive camouflage, which can mimic the colors and textures of your surroundings, rendering you nearly invisible in low-light conditions.

You head back to the elevator, this time to leave the headquarters, and when you emerge back on the surface, you’re met by the cold, chilly evening air. You glance up at the moon, taking a moment to center yourself before slipping on the mask that conceals your identity. The mask is crafted from a similar nanotex material as the suit and is fitted with an advanced HUD (heads-up display) that provides real-time data on your surroundings. It also features voice modulation to disguise your voice, and a built-in rebreather allows for up to an hour of air supply in case of emergency. The mask’s exterior is matte black, designed to absorb light and avoid detection, with a sleek, streamlined shape that conforms to your facial structure.

You shoot a grappling device, known as a grapnel gun, into the air. It’s equipped with a high-tensile cable and a powerful winch, allowing you to ascend quickly and quietly to the top of a tall building. The device anchors itself into the wall, and with a quick flick of your wrist, you are pulled up, your body rising effortlessly into the night sky. Stealthily, you jump and move in swift, agile motions across the rooftops, blending into the cityscape as you head towards the museum that houses The Midnight Watch.

Upon reaching the museum, you find an entrance through an open window on the roof. You move with careful precision, avoiding the beams of light from the security cameras and the paths of patrolling guards. Your suit’s camouflage feature helps you blend into the shadows, making you nearly invisible. Just as the data earlier described, the museum is heavily guarded. The question of why it’s so heavily protected lingers in your mind, adding to the mystery.

Finding a vantage point on the roof, you settle into the shadows, your form melding seamlessly with the darkness. You scan the area, eyes sharp for any sign of movement. Just then, you catch a glimpse of another figure moving swiftly on the ground, approaching the museum from the opposite side. The fluidity of their movements, the confident strides—it can only be one person. Just as you predicted.

The Crimson Fox.

You watch him effortlessly maneuver through the red laser security beams, his movements so fluid and precise that it almost seems like a choreographed dance. It’s not every day you encounter a thief as skilled as he is—it’s almost as if he moves just like you, with the same blend of agility and precision. Carefully, you shift to a different position, your eyes never leaving him as he edges closer to the painting. Timing it perfectly as he flips in the air, you press a button on your suit, launching a high-tech tracking dart. The dart, sleek and nearly invisible, is designed to embed itself in the target and transmit their location back to your suit’s HUD in real time.

Much to your surprise, he catches it mid-air with his fingers, an impressive feat that makes your eyes widen momentarily. When he lands, just before he can turn his head to pinpoint where the dart came from, you swiftly and silently drop down from your perch, avoiding the lasers with practiced ease. You move in circles, attempting to distract him. He mirrors your movements, staying just a millisecond behind you. The dance of shadows and swift movements continues, each of you testing the other’s limits. You leap into the air, aiming to tackle him, but he’s quick, instantly jumping to another spot, leaving you to land where he had just been.

“You’re pretty good, huh?” he says, his voice deep and sultry. “Too bad you’re not good enough.”

He throws a decoy object into the air, your eyes widening in surprise. You run to the wall, using it as a springboard to propel yourself into the air, catching the object just before it hits a laser. When you turn, you see the Crimson Fox already on the other side of the room, making his way to the museum’s exit hall with the painting in hand. He flashes you a playful wink through his mask before making a run for it. You let out a soft groan of frustration, quickly maneuvering through the lasers to match his pace. Your movements are precise, calculated, but so are his. The chase is on.

Your suit’s augmented reality system projects a map of the museum, highlighting potential exits and security points. You see him head for the nearest exit and you take a shortcut through a series of narrow corridors, hoping to cut him off. As you race through the labyrinthine hallways, your mind races, analyzing his possible routes and strategies.

Bursting out into the main hall, you spot him just a few meters ahead, his figure sleek and confident. You pick up speed, your boots’ silent thrusters giving you an extra burst. Just as he reaches for the door, you leap forward, tackling him to the ground. The painting slips from his grasp, sliding across the marble floor. He rolls with the impact, attempting to pin you, but you’re faster. You twist out of his hold, springing to your feet and blocking his path to the painting. For a moment, the two of you stand there, eyes locked in a silent challenge. “You’re not getting away from me,” you state, your voice firm.

His lips curve into a smirk beneath his mask. “We’ll see about that.”

In a flurry of motion, the fight resumes. He’s fast, but so are you. Each strike and counter-strike is a blur, a testament to both your skills. He lunges forward, aiming a punch at your midsection, but you sidestep just in time, bringing your elbow down toward his back. He twists away, grinning beneath his mask.

“Is that all you’ve got, Agent?” he taunts, his voice laced with mockery.

You remain silent, your expression calm and composed. You know better than to rise to his bait. Instead, you focus on your breathing, your movements, waiting for the perfect moment. He circles you, his eyes gleaming with amusement and challenge.

“Aww, come on, don’t be so cold,” he continues, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I thought we were having fun.”

He throws a high kick toward your head, but you duck under it, countering with a swift jab to his ribs. He grunts, stepping back but quickly recovering. He swipes at your legs with a low kick, attempting to unbalance you. You jump, spinning mid-air to deliver a kick to his chest. He blocks it, but the force pushes him back a step.

“Not bad,” he admits, still smirking. “You’ll have to do better than that, though.”

You narrow your eyes, deciding to up the ante. You feint a punch to his face, and when he moves to block, you pivot, delivering a knee to his stomach. He doubles over slightly, but his reflexes are sharp. He grabs your leg, twisting you off balance. You roll with the motion, using the momentum to bring your other leg around in a sweeping kick that catches him off guard. He stumbles, and you seize the opportunity, launching a rapid series of punches. He blocks most of them, but you manage to land a solid hit to his jaw. He staggers, but then a glint of something mischievous flashes in his eyes.

“You’re pretty impressive,” he breathes, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “But let’s see how you’ll turn this in your favor.”

With that, he pulls out a small, round device from his belt and throws it to the ground. A thick cloud of smoke erupts, enveloping you both. Your vision blurs, the acrid scent stinging your eyes and nose. You cough, trying to clear your senses as you hear his footsteps moving through the haze.

“You think a little smoke will stop me?” you call out, your voice steady despite the irritation in your throat.

“Oh, I don’t expect it to stop you,” his voice echoes back, sly and teasing. “Just slow you down.”

You focus, listening intently. Through the smoke, you catch a faint outline of his figure. You dart forward, aiming for where you think he’ll be. Your fist meets air, but then you feel a presence behind you. You spin around, just in time to block a strike aimed at your back. The two of you exchange blows in the smoke, each trying to gain the upper hand. “Getting tired?” he mocks, his breath hot against your ear as he tries to grapple you. “Hardly,” you reply, your tone icy and controlled.

You twist out of his grasp, elbowing him in the ribs and then landing a punch to his side. He grunts, but you can tell he’s still smirking under that mask. You can almost feel his amusement, his enjoyment of the challenge you present.

As the smoke begins to dissipate, you both emerge from the cloud, circling each other once more. You see a flicker of calculation in his eyes, and you know he’s planning his next move. You brace yourself, ready for whatever trick he has up his sleeve. He lunges again, but this time you’re prepared. You catch his arm, twisting it behind his back and kicking his legs out from under him. He falls to the ground, but he rolls quickly, springing back to his feet with an agility that impresses you despite yourself.

“Seems your little organization knew what they were doing when they decided to send you to catch me,” he says, genuinely this time, his voice breathless but still edged with that mocking tone. “A pity that you won’t be able to succeed, though.”

He reaches for another device, but you’re quicker. You knock it out of his hand, sending it skittering across the floor. He curses under his breath, and for a moment, his playful demeanor drops, replaced by something more serious, more dangerous. The two of you lock eyes, and you can see the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken promise that this isn’t over. He makes a feint to the left, and you move to block, but he spins to the right, his hand darting out to grab the painting. Just as he snatches it, you react, sending a high-tech bullet from your suit, aiming to disable him. But he catches it mid-air, his reflexes astonishing.

“See ya.”

He gives you a quick, mocking salute before disappearing into the shadows, leaving you standing there, hands balled into fists as you seethe with anger.

Just then, you hear footsteps from a fair distance. Quick on your feet, you scale the walls and slip through a shortcut exit just before the security guards catch up. You leap off from the mansion, using your grapnel to swing between buildings. The cityscape blurs around you as you deftly maneuver, finally settling on a rooftop to update the organization.

You tap your in-ear monitor, and it beeps twice, signaling it's ready to record the voice mail. “Agent Sylvil reporting. The Crimson Fox has secured the Midnight Watch and managed to evade capture. His skills are exceptional. I recommend arranging a meeting with the director board to discuss further strategies. Director Han’s assessment was accurate; this mission requires precise and advanced handling.”

Finishing the recording, you send the message. Then, you sit on the rooftop, reflecting on the night’s events. It’s your first encounter with the Crimson Fox, but given his swift escape, you know it definitely won’t be the last. His movements were fluid, his tactics ingenious, and his demeanor… he was infuriatingly confident. As much as his arrogance grated on your nerves, you can’t deny the spark of excitement it ignited. It’s rare to find an adversary who truly challenges you, and the Crimson Fox did just that. His mocking words and playful manner suggested he barely saw you as a threat, which both angered and intrigued you.

You replay the fight in your mind, analyzing each move, each counter. His agility, his quick thinking, his ability to catch your high-tech bullet mid-air—he was indeed a formidable opponent. The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline of the fight, it all reminded you why you chose this life. For all its dangers and secrets, it was moments like these that made it worth it. The cold evening air settles around you, the city below buzzing with life unaware of the silent battles fought above. You take a deep breath, centering yourself. The next encounter with the Crimson Fox will be different. Now that you’ve experienced his capabilities firsthand, you’re more determined than ever to capture him.

The moon casts a silver glow on the rooftop as you stand, your silhouette blending with the night. You glance at the cityscape, your mind already planning the next steps. The mission has just begun, and you’re ready for the challenge. With a final look at the city, you engage your grapnel and swing into the night on your way back to the headquarters, your thoughts focused on the elusive thief and the thrill of the hunt.

Soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the director board. The room is dimly lit, with a long mahogany table at the center. Holographic screens line the walls, displaying various data points and live feeds from different missions around the globe. You take a deep breath, readying yourself for the detailed debriefing. “Good evening,” you begin, your voice calm and composed. “Thank you for convening on such short notice and understanding the urgency of the matter at hand.”

Director Han nods, her eyes fixed on you. “Agent Sylvil, please proceed with your report.”

You activate the holographic projector in the center of the table, which springs to life with a 3D representation of the museum. “As per the mission parameters, I infiltrated the museum housing The Midnight Watch. The Crimson Fox, as predicted, made an appearance.”

The directors listen with utmost attention, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. “What were his methods?” Director Kang asks, his brow furrowed.

“Impressive,” you admit. “He bypassed the security lasers with an ease that suggests extensive training. His movements were calculated, almost as if he anticipated every countermeasure in place.” You replay a section of the surveillance footage, highlighting the Crimson Fox’s agility and precision as he evades the laser beams.

Director Liu interjects, “What can you tell us about his physical capabilities?”

“Exceptional reflexes and strength,” you reply. “During our confrontation, he caught a high-tech bullet I fired at him mid-air, and he moved with a speed that matched my own. We engaged in close combat, where his skills were evident.”

You take a deep breath, ready to recount the encounter with precision. “The fight was intense, a true test of both our abilities. It began with me tackling him down on the ground, but he was quick on his feet to slip out of my grasp.”

The directors lean in, listening intently. “He anticipated my next move, sidestepping just in time to avoid a follow-up strike. His agility is remarkable. As I pivoted to face him, he used a spinning kick aimed at my head, but I ducked and swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground, but he recovered almost instantly, rolling away and springing back to his feet.”

You pause, replaying the vivid memories in your mind. “We exchanged a series of blows—punches, kicks, blocks, you name it. Each move was met with a counter. His fighting style is unconventional, incorporating elements of various martial arts, which made it difficult to predict. He doesn’t adhere to a single discipline, which kept me on my toes.”

Director Han nods, gesturing for you to continue. “What about his defensive maneuvers?” she pushes further while spinning a pen in her hand, trying to ground the feeling of being on edge consuming her.

“He’s incredibly adaptive,” you explain. “When I attempted a grappling technique, aiming to subdue him, he twisted his body with an almost serpentine flexibility, breaking free from my hold. He then countered with a palm strike to my sternum, knocking me back a few steps. His strikes were precise, targeting vulnerable points with pinpoint accuracy.”

Director Kang interjects, “And how did you manage to gain the upper hand?”

“I capitalized on his momentary lapse in focus,” you reply. “After a particularly aggressive exchange, he hesitated for a fraction of a second—perhaps assessing his next move. I seized that moment to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to his side, sending him staggering. He stumbled, clearly winded, and that’s when I thought I had him.”

You pause, the memory still fresh. “But he’s resourceful. Before I could press my advantage, he reached into his belt and pulled out a small device—a smoke bomb. He threw it to the ground, and within seconds, a thick cloud of smoke enveloped us. I tried to locate him, but the visibility was almost zero.”

The directors furrow their brows as you continue. “The fight continued within the smoke. I could barely see him, but I could hear his movements. He used the smoke to his advantage, striking from unexpected angles. I had to rely on my other senses, listening for the slightest sound, feeling the air shift with his movements.”

You lean forward, emphasizing the intensity of the moment. “He came at me from the side, delivering a quick succession of punches. I managed to block most of them, but one caught my shoulder, pushing me back. I retaliated with a low sweep, hoping to trip him, but he jumped over my leg and countered with a kick aimed at my head.”

Director Liu looks concerned. “And you were fighting blind?”

“Essentially, yes,” you confirm. “But so was he, to some extent. It became a test of reflexes and instincts. I landed a solid hit to his midsection, forcing him to stumble back, but he quickly recovered. He moved with an eerie precision, almost as if he could see through the smoke.”

“At one point, I managed to land another solid strike, knocking him off balance. He was momentarily disoriented, and I moved in to finish it. But he was one step ahead of me, and so he escaped by disappearing into the shadows before I could initiate my next move,” you conclude.

Director Kang speaks up, “His use of the smoke bomb indicates he was prepared for a prolonged fight. This suggests he knew he might encounter resistance and planned accordingly.”

“Indeed,” you agree. “His preparation and adaptability make him a formidable opponent. He’s not just skilled in combat but also in tactical evasion. This was not a random act of theft—he’s calculated and strategic in his approach.”

Director Han taps her fingers on the table thoughtfully. “What about his demeanor? Any psychological insights?”

You pause, recalling the encounter. “Mocking and confident. He seems to enjoy the thrill of the chase, using sarcasm and taunts to unnerve his opponents. He referred to our skills as ‘not good enough’ and even threw a decoy object to distract me while he made his escape.”

Director Kang leans back in his chair, contemplating. “So, he’s not just skilled but also psychologically manipulative. This makes him a more dangerous adversary.”

“Agreed,” you nod. “He managed to secure The Midnight Watch and evade capture. His confidence suggests he has faced numerous challenges and emerged victorious.”

Director Liu turns to you, her expression serious. “Agent Sylvil, how do you propose we proceed?”

You take a deep breath. “Given his capabilities, we need a multi-faceted approach. Increased surveillance on potential targets, advanced countermeasures tailored to his techniques, and psychological profiling to predict his next move. Additionally, I recommend setting traps designed specifically to counter his known strategies.”

The directors nod, absorbing your suggestions. Director Han speaks up, “We’ll allocate additional resources to this mission. It’s clear that the Crimson Fox is not an ordinary thief.”

Director Kang adds, “We should also consider the possibility of a mole within our ranks. His knowledge of the museum’s security was too precise to be a coincidence.”

The meeting continues, with each director contributing their insights and strategies. They discuss deploying additional agents, enhancing technological defenses, and setting up surveillance in key locations. The holographic screens flicker with data as plans are formulated.

After an extensive discussion, Director Han turns to you. “Agent Sylvil, this mission is now your top priority. We trust your expertise and judgment to bring the Crimson Fox to justice.”

You straighten your posture, a sense of determination filling you. “Understood. I will not let him slip through our fingers again.”

With that, the meeting adjourns. The directors disperse, leaving you to finalize the details of the new strategies. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, the weight of the mission settling on your shoulders. As you leave the meeting room, you take a moment to gather your thoughts before deciding to head to the tech experts’ department, mind already racing with plans and the need for advanced equipment to catch the elusive Crimson Fox. Once you arrive at a secure door, you swipe your ID card, and the door slides open with a soft hiss, revealing the hub of innovation where the brightest minds in the organization work tirelessly.

Inside, the atmosphere is one of focused intensity. Technicians and engineers huddle over holographic interfaces, 3D printers whirr as they produce prototype components, and large screens display streams of data from ongoing missions. You spot Dr. Yoo, the head of the tech department, a sharp-eyed woman with a mind as quick as her hands. “Agent Sylvil,” Dr. Yoo greets you with a nod, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of the urgency you must feel. “What brings you here?”

“Dr. Yoo,” you begin, “I need your team’s help. The Crimson Fox is unlike any adversary we’ve faced. His skills are exceptional, and our current surveillance capabilities aren’t enough. I need enhancements in surveillance tech, innovative traps, and some upgrades to my suit and weaponry.”

Dr. Yoo’s eyes gleam with interest. “Ah, yes. Director Han had informed me of your mission beforehand. Surveillance enhancements, you say? We can certainly help with that.” She leads you to a workstation where several screens display live feeds from various parts of the city. “We’ve been developing a new type of drone—silent, virtually invisible to the naked eye, and equipped with AI-driven tracking algorithms. These drones can patrol a set perimeter, identify unusual patterns, and follow targets without being detected.”

She types a few commands, and a small, sleek drone materializes on a platform beside her. “We call it the ‘Ghost Falcon.’ It can relay real-time data back to your wrist device, providing you with constant updates on the target’s location and movements.”

“Next, for trapping mechanisms,” Dr. Yoo continues, walking over to another section of the lab, “we've been working on deployable traps that can be used in urban environments. These include smart tripwires that can be set up quickly and remotely activated, and adhesive gel bombs that can immobilize a target upon contact.”

She gestures to a table where various gadgets are laid out. “These are our latest models. The tripwires are nearly invisible and can send an alert to your wrist device when triggered. The adhesive gel bombs can be thrown or launched from a distance, endangering anyone within its range.”

“Now, let’s talk about your suit.” Dr. Yoo pulls up a holographic model of your current suit, spinning it in the air with a swipe. “I propose we upgrade your suit with enhanced plating—lightweight but incredibly strong, along with new functions.”

She points to the wrist section of the hologram. “We’ll also integrate advanced tech into your gloves. These can now emit an electromagnetic pulse to disable electronic devices temporarily, which could come in handy if the Crimson Fox uses tech against you.”

“And for weaponry,” Dr. Yoo says, moving to a locked cabinet, “we have some new additions. Here’s a high-frequency stun baton, designed to incapacitate without permanent damage. It has an extendable reach, allowing you to engage from a safe distance.”

She unlocks the cabinet, revealing a sleek, compact crossbow. “This is a micro-crossbow, firing tranquilizer darts with pinpoint accuracy. It’s silent and effective, perfect for stealth operations.”

You straighten yourself, feeling a renewed sense of readiness. “Thank you, Dr. Yoo. These upgrades will make a significant difference.”

Dr. Yoo nods, her expression serious. “We’re all counting on you, Agent Sylvil. Catching the Crimson Fox is crucial.”

After finalizing your discussions with the tech experts, you make your way to the elevator. The high-tech suit clings to your form, feeling like a second skin. As you descend, you press a sequence of buttons on your wristwatch. The suit begins to morph, retracting seamlessly into the wristwatch. The material shifts and transforms, layer by layer, until it becomes the familiar fabric of your pencil skirt and white dress shirt. By the time the elevator doors open to the surface, you appear as the diligent librarian once more, ready to blend into the mundane world outside. The cold evening air greets you, a stark contrast to the high-tech environment you just left. You draw a deep breath, allowing the exhaustion to surface as you make your way home.

The walk home feels interminable. Each step is heavy, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you. Your muscles protest, a dull ache from the intense physical exertion of your encounter with the Crimson Fox. Your mind races with thoughts of strategies and the upgrades to your equipment. Streetlights cast long shadows, and the city’s hum is a distant background noise as you finally reach your apartment building. The familiar sight brings a small sense of relief, a sanctuary from the day’s demands.

As soon as you step inside your apartment, the weight of the day seems to lift slightly. You drop your bag from your shoulder, the thud it makes as it hits the floor symbolizing the shedding of your burdens. You pick it back up and hang it on the rack by the door, a habit that brings a sense of order to the chaos of your life. Slipping off your heels, you place them neatly on the shoe rack, taking a moment to appreciate the simple comfort of being barefoot.

You move through your apartment, each step bringing you closer to the sanctuary of your room. The familiar surroundings offer a sense of comfort. Your room is a haven, a place where you can let down your guard. You take off your glasses, placing them carefully on your bedside table. The act of changing into comfortable clothes feels like removing a layer of tension. In the bathroom, you splash cool water on your face, the sensation refreshing and grounding. Finally, you collapse onto your bed, sinking into the mattress with a deep sigh, the weight of the day slipping away.

Lying on your bed, you stare at the ceiling, your mind replaying the events of the day in vivid detail. The meeting with the directors, each face etched with concern and determination, lingers at the forefront of your thoughts. The weight of their expectations had been palpable, each word and directive underscoring the gravity of the mission. Director Han’s gaze and the gravity in her tone emphasized the importance of capturing the Crimson Fox. As you recalled your encounter, the room had been silent, each director hanging on your every word. The fight had been more than a mere physical confrontation; it was a battle of wits, a dance of strategy and skill.

The discussions with the tech department replay in your mind as well. Their enthusiasm and expertise were evident as they explained the new modifications and enhancements they would integrate into your suit. Each upgrade was meticulously designed, aimed at giving you the edge needed to outmaneuver the Crimson Fox. The advanced surveillance systems, the innovative traps, and the weapon enhancements—all crafted to ensure your success. You could still hear the excitement in their voices, their confidence in their technology bolstering your resolve. They believed in you, and that belief was a powerful motivator.

But most of all, the encounter with the Crimson Fox dominates your thoughts. Every detail is etched into your memory: the way he moved, the confidence in his stride, the playful yet calculating glint in his eyes. His skills were astonishing, each move calculated and precise, as if he had been doing this for years. Yet he was a new thief on the scene, his methods untraceable, his origins unknown. His confidence, his playful demeanor—it was unnerving and intriguing. He had treated the confrontation like a game, his taunts laced with mockery and challenge. It was almost as if he knew he was untouchable, as if he thrived on the thrill of the chase.

You find yourself replaying the fight in your mind, analyzing each move, each tactic. His agility, his quick reflexes, the way he anticipated your actions—it all points to extensive training and experience. But where did he come from? How did he develop such skills? The mystery of his identity gnaws at you, a puzzle that refuses to be solved. You can still feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the intensity of the fight, the close calls, and the moment when he slipped through your grasp.

Who was he? The question echoes in your mind, refusing to be silenced. Capturing him is no longer just about completing your mission or earning a promotion. It’s about understanding him, uncovering the mystery behind the mask. Each taunt, each move he made seemed to be a clue, a piece of a larger puzzle. You realize that this chase is only the beginning of a much larger game, a game that you are determined to win. His motives remain unclear. Why target “The Midnight Watch”? The painting, while appearing to be valuable, seemed an unusual choice for such a high-profile thief.

His confidence, his playful demeanor—there was something almost familiar about it, a nagging sensation at the back of your mind. It was as if you had encountered this kind of adversary before, someone who enjoyed the thrill of the game as much as the spoils. Yet, despite his confidence and skill, he had shown respect in his own way, acknowledging your abilities, even if through taunts and challenges. It was a strange dynamic, one that you couldn’t quite place. Was he testing you? Pushing you to see how far you could go?

You turn over, closing your eyes after setting an alarm for work tomorrow. Plans and strategies swirl in your mind, interwoven with the enigmatic figure of the Crimson Fox. His skills, his words, his smirk—they all replay in your mind as you drift off to sleep.

—

The blaring sound of your alarm rouses you from sleep, and you groan softly as sunlight filters through the curtains, striking your face. You sit up slowly, yawning and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Glancing at your phone, you see that you still have an hour before the library opens. Determined to start your day right, you stretch and stand, moving to fix your bed, smoothing out the sheets and fluffing the pillows until everything is neatly in place.

Heading to the bathroom, you begin your morning routine. First, you splash cold water on your face, waking yourself up fully. Then, you wash your face with a gentle cleanser, massaging it into your skin before rinsing it off with warm water. After patting your face dry with a soft towel, you apply a refreshing toner, followed by a light moisturizer to keep your skin hydrated. You then hop into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you lather shampoo into your hair, rinse, and follow with a conditioner. After washing your body with a fragrant body wash, you rinse off and step out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel.

Once you finish drying off, you brush your teeth thoroughly, ensuring they are clean and fresh. You run a comb through your hair, detangling any knots, and then blow-dry it until it falls into a smooth, manageable style. Returning to your bedroom, you open your closet and run your hand along the rack, considering your options for the day.

You settle on a chic yet professional outfit that perfectly balances style and sophistication. You choose a tailored, knee-length pencil skirt in a deep navy blue, which hugs your figure while maintaining a professional appearance. Paired with it, you opt for a crisp white blouse with subtle ruffle detailing along the neckline and cuffs, adding a touch of femininity and elegance. Over the blouse, you wear a fitted blazer in a matching navy blue, cinched at the waist with a slim belt. The outfit is completed with a pair of sleek black heels, adding a bit of height and polish to your look. Underneath the sleeve of your blazer, you securely fasten your high-tech wristwatch, ensuring it's discreetly hidden but easily accessible.

You sit down at your vanity, turning on the lighted mirror to begin fixing yourself up. Once you’re satisfied with your facial look, you move on to your hair, deciding on a sophisticated yet simple style. After a final check in the mirror, you stand and give yourself one last glance in the full-length mirror, ensuring everything is in place.

Grabbing your bag, you head to the entrance, slipping into your black heels and making sure they are comfortable. You hang your bag over your shoulder and step out, locking the door behind you. The cool morning air greets you as you begin your usual walk to the library. The streets are still quiet, the hustle and bustle of the day yet to begin.

You arrive at the library, pulling up the metal shutter and inserting your keys into the door, the familiar click bringing a small measure of comfort as you step inside. The familiar scent of books and the quiet ambiance welcome you, and you take a deep breath, feeling a sense of calmness as you prepare for the day ahead. You turn on the lights, arrange the new arrivals on the display, and make sure everything is in order before opening the doors to the public. Once you’re finished, you head to the door to flip the sign from “Closed” to “Open,” walking back to the registrar afterwards. You then sit down, ready to immerse yourself in the tasks at hand.

A steady stream of patrons then eventually begin to fill the space, each one on a mission to either borrow new books or return their previous selections. The sound of footsteps, hushed conversations, and the rustling of pages creates a symphony of activity that fills the otherwise quiet room. You find yourself at the center of it all, seated behind the front desk, diligently managing the influx of customers.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard as you enter return dates and update records in the computer system. The scanner beeps rhythmically as you process each book, ensuring every title is properly logged back into the library’s inventory. Every now and then, a patron asks for recommendations or assistance finding a particular book, and you offer them a warm smile and helpful advice. The hours seem to blend together in a blur of transactions and interactions.

The morning passes quickly, the library bustling with activity. You barely have time to notice the growing stack of returned books piling up beside your desk. Just as you reach for another book to scan, a familiar voice breaks through the din, pulling you from your focused trance.

“Hey there.”

You tear your eyes away from the computer screen and manage a small smile upon recognizing the speaker. “Oh, hey, Wooyoung.” His presence is a welcome distraction, and you notice the book he places on the counter—“The History of Art,” the same one he borrowed before.

“Finished reading it already? You’re pretty fast,” you muse, engaging in small talk as you take the book and begin the process of returning it to the system. You scan the barcode, ensuring the book is properly checked back in and available for other patrons.

“Yep. Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Wooyoung replies, leaning casually against the counter, pulling down the sleeves of his hoodie slightly—why does he always choose to wear such items of clothing despite the blazing weather?

You chuckle softly. “This book must have been really useful for you, huh?” You glance at the computer screen as the system confirms the book’s return, then move to type in some additional notes.

For a moment, there’s a comfortable silence between you, filled only by the clicking of your keyboard. You can feel Wooyoung’s gaze on you, and although it’s not directly in your line of sight, his attention is palpable. Keeping your eyes on the computer, you address the unspoken question. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat, seeming slightly flustered. “I just... you look pretty tired?”

Your eyebrows lift in surprise at his comment, and you tilt your head curiously. “Do I?” You open the desk drawer and pull out a small hand mirror, angling it to inspect your reflection. Indeed, there are faint dark circles under your eyes, subtle but noticeable upon closer inspection. “Huh.”

Wooyoung shifts slightly, his concern genuine despite his earlier teasing tone. “Yeah, just a bit. Rough night?”

You nod slightly, placing the mirror back in the drawer. “You could say that. Just some work stuff keeping me up.”

He offers a sympathetic smile. “Well, don’t push yourself too hard. You need rest too, you know.”

You smile back, appreciating his concern. “Thanks, Wooyoung. I’ll try to take it easy.”

As the conversation lulls, you finish updating the system with the returned book and place it on the cart to be reshelved later. Wooyoung lingers for a moment longer, seemingly hesitant to leave.

“So, are you borrowing anything new today?” you ask, shifting the topic back to the library’s purpose.

He seems to snap out of his thoughts and grins. “Actually, yes. I was thinking of diving into something different this time. Any recommendations?”

You stand, gesturing for him to follow you. “Sure, let’s see what we can find.” As you walk through the aisles, you turn to Wooyoung, genuinely curious about his reading preferences. He’s busy looking around, so when he fails to notice you stopping in your tracks, his chest bumps into your shoulder blades, and he hisses lightly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Your eyebrows shoot up in concern, and just as you’re about to hold your hand forward to touch his chest, you quickly retract it, realizing you might make him uncomfortable. It seems as if you’re both on the same page, as he immediately took a step back.

“Don’t mind it,” he waves you off. “Were you gonna ask me something?” he inquires, hoping to steer away from what just happened. Thankfully, you had the same intention as well, so you go along with his flow.

“I was gonna ask if there’s any topic or genre you’re particularly interested in lately?” You tilt your head as you wait for his answer, eager to find the perfect recommendations for him.

Wooyoung scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Actually, I’ve been fascinated by the history of rare and valuable artifacts recently. Especially those from ancient civilizations.”

You raise an eyebrow in surprise. It’s a rather specific and intriguing interest. “Oh, great choice. I’ve got a few recommendations for that.” You smile, leading him toward the section dedicated to ancient artifacts and their histories.

You proceed to guide Wooyoung through the aisle dedicated to ancient artifacts, pulling out a book titled “Lost Treasures of the Ancient World” and handing it to him. “This one covers a variety of artifacts from different civilizations, including their historical significance and the stories behind their discoveries,” you explain, flipping through the pages to show him illustrations of ancient relics.

Wooyoung’s eyes light up with interest as he examines the pages. “Wow, look at this!” he whisper-shouts, pointing to a detailed map of archaeological sites. “I didn’t realize there were so many different ancient civilizations with their own treasures.”

You nod, smiling. “This book also discusses how these treasures were unearthed and the challenges faced by archaeologists.”

“That must be an adventure in itself,” Wooyoung remarks with a grin. “Imagine digging up an ancient tomb and finding treasures untouched for thousands of years.”

You proceed to pull out another book from the shelves, titled “The Secrets of Ancient Egypt: From Pharaohs to Treasure Hunters.” You lend him the book, explaining its coverage soon after. “This delves into the world of Egyptian artifacts, their mystical significance, and the pharaohs who were entombed with them.”

Wooyoung’s gaze is fixed on a page depicting hieroglyphics. “Egyptian mythology sure is fascinating,” he muses, tracing the symbols with his finger. “It’s like a window into a world where gods and mortals coexisted.”

You smile, enjoying his enthusiasm. “I can’t say I don’t agree. The mysteries of the pyramids and the rituals surrounding mummification are endlessly captivating.”

As you reach for “The Tools of the Ancients: Craftsmanship and Innovation,” you explain, “This book explores the tools and techniques used by ancient civilizations to create these masterpieces.” You show him illustrations of ancient tools and artifacts, discussing their ingenious designs.

Wooyoung’s curiosity is piqued. “You know, things like this always makes me wonder how they achieved such precision without modern technology,” he muses, examining the diagrams closely. “Their craftsmanship was truly ahead of its time.”

As you discuss each book, you can’t help but notice how animated Wooyoung becomes. His genuine curiosity and passion for ancient history are evident in his questions and comments, and you find yourself enjoying the conversation as much as he does.

“Have you always been interested in ancient artifacts?” You turn to him, genuinely curious about his newfound passion.

He smiles, setting down the last book. “Not always,” he admits with a chuckle. “But recently, I’ve found myself drawn to the stories behind these artifacts. They’re like puzzle pieces that unlock secrets from the past.”

You nod in agreement. “It’s incredible how each artifact has its own story to tell, connecting us to our ancestors and their way of life. It’s like uncovering hidden secrets from a forgotten world.”

The moment lingers, a shared understanding passing between you as you find yourself staring into his eyes perhaps a little longer than you’re supposed to. But then you blink, breaking the spell, and turn back to the books. “Well, I think you’re all set with these,” you say warmly, gesturing to the stack he’s accumulated. “I hope you find them as fascinating as I do.”

“I’m sure I will,” he replies sincerely. “Thanks again for your help. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you say, smiling warmly. “Let me know if you need anything else,” you tell him, and he gives you a nod before heading towards the checkout desk with his books, soon then leaving the library.

Returning to the registrar desk, you settle back into your routine. You begin by sorting through the stack of returned books, scanning each one into the computer system to update their status. You take a moment to check the condition of each book, making sure none of them need repairs or special attention before placing them on the cart for reshelving. Next, you turn your attention to the online catalog, processing requests from patrons who have reserved books. You locate the requested items on the shelves behind the desk, scan them out, and prepare them for pickup. Each step requires careful attention to detail, ensuring that every book is accounted for and properly logged in the system.

While you’re engrossed in your work, your invisible in-ear monitor suddenly beeps softly, indicating a new voicemail. Dr. Yoo’s voice then comes through clearly, though only you can hear it. “Agent Sylvil, the tech team has successfully infiltrated the security cameras around the city. We’re now gathering all available footage of the Crimson Fox. I’ll update you with any significant findings as soon as we have them. Stay alert and be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”

When the message finishes, you find yourself lost in thought, momentarily blanking out while keeping your eyes on your computer’s screen. The usual hum of the library fades into the background as you process Dr. Yoo’s update. You look outside the door, met with the sight of the city, and begin wondering if the security camera footage will be of any help. The Crimson Fox’s elusive nature and your recent encounter with him make you skeptical. Given how vigilant he was, it's safe to assume he’s smart enough to avoid being caught on security cameras. But still, you hope for the best-case scenario while also calculating the worst.

You let out a quiet sigh. The city is a vast web of streets and buildings, each with its own secrets. If the tech team can pinpoint his movements, it could provide the breakthrough you need. But the Crimson Fox is no ordinary thief; his agility and skills make him a formidable opponent. He’s proven to be a master of evasion, and underestimating him would be a mistake.

You then redirect your attention to your duties. You start by organizing the returned books, scanning each one into the system. The rhythmic beep of the scanner helps ground you in the present. Each book, once scanned, is carefully examined for any damage before being placed on a cart for reshelving.

Your mind continues to race with thoughts of the Crimson Fox as you process the books. You can’t help but wonder about his next move. What artifact will he target next? What’s his endgame? These questions swirl in your mind, adding a layer of intrigue to your day. As you print out a list of overdue books, your thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of a young student at the desk. He looks nervous, clutching a piece of paper. “Excuse me, can you help me find this book for my project?” he asks, nervously fiddling with the paper in his hands.

“Of course,” you reply with a warm smile, taking the paper from him. “Let’s see what you need.” The request momentarily distracts you from your thoughts about the Crimson Fox, and you guide the student to the appropriate section, helping him locate the reference book he needs.

Returning to the desk, you draft reminder emails for patrons with overdue books. Each email is crafted with care, politely reminding them to return their borrowed items and offering assistance if they need to renew their loans. You take a moment to analyze the circulation statistics, noting which genres are most popular this month and which sections might need restocking.

You take a brief moment to stretch and sip some water. As you glance around the library, you feel a sense of pride in maintaining this peaceful, orderly environment. However, the tech team's success in accessing the city’s security cameras keeps your thoughts anchored to your mission. The possibility of tracking the Crimson Fox through the footage gives you hope, despite the challenges.

Refreshed from your quick break, you dive back into your duties. You stand up from your chair, leaving the counter and taking the cart with you as you begin reshelving the books. You start with the fiction section, carefully placing each book back in its designated spot, making sure the spines are perfectly aligned. You run your fingers along the shelves, ensuring no books are out of order. Moving on to non-fiction, you double-check the Dewey Decimal System numbers, adjusting any misplaced titles. Each book finds its home, from biographies to history volumes.

You take your time with the children’s section, making sure the colorful picture books are easily accessible for little hands. You arrange them neatly, occasionally straightening the whimsical displays. The library feels like an extension of yourself, every detail meticulously managed. Once you finished, you head back to the registrar, resuming your work. The steady rhythm of scanning and processing books returns. Patrons come and go, each interaction brief but pleasant. You answer questions, provide recommendations, and handle transactions with practiced ease.

The day passes by like a blur, and now it’s time for you to close the library. You shut down your computer, standing up and leaving the counter. Thankfully, there are no longer any people around, so you are free to clean and close up the library without worrying about offending anyone by announcing closing hours. You start tidying up the tables, collecting stray books and magazines left behind. You wipe down surfaces, ensuring everything is spotless. Chairs are pushed back under tables, and scattered newspapers are neatly stacked. You walk through the aisles one last time, straightening books and making sure everything is in order.

When you’re done, you head back to the reception desk, taking your bag and pulling out the keys. You step outside, locking the door and pulling down the metal shutter, securing the library for the night. With the library closed, you head to the headquarters, needing to talk to Dr. Yoo for updates regarding the city’s surveillance cameras and any footage of the Crimson Fox. The walk to the headquarters is brisk, your mind focused on the mission ahead.

Once you arrive, you go straight to the tech lab. Dr. Yoo notices your presence immediately and makes her way to you. “Agent Sylvil,” she greets you with a nod.

“Dr. Yoo,” you respond. “Any updates on the surveillance cameras?”

“Follow me,” she says, leading you to the surveillance monitoring room. The walls are lined with multiple screens, each displaying footage from various cameras across the city.

She points to one of the screens. “Unfortunately, he was only caught on this camera, and it was just for a millisecond.” You lean in closer, studying the footage. The image is fleeting, barely a blur of movement. “Impressive,” you murmur, noting how he managed to evade capture on almost every camera.

Dr. Yoo nods. “We did, however, identify a pattern. The footage indicates he’s frequenting an area known for housing valuable artifacts. We’re cross-referencing his movements with known high-value targets in the vicinity.”

You consider this information, thinking back to his skill and precision during your last encounter. “Good work,” you say. “Let’s focus on that area. Enhance surveillance and see if we can predict his next move.”

Dr. Yoo agrees, already making notes. “We’ll get on it right away. I’ll keep you updated with any new developments.”

As you head home, your mind keeps circling back to the surveillance footage. Dr. Yoo had advised patience, emphasizing the importance of gathering more intel before making a move. But the idea of waiting gnaws at you. The thrill of a direct confrontation, the challenge of outsmarting the Crimson Fox, calls to you with an irresistible pull.

Walking down the path to where you live, you make a snap decision. Doing a full 180, you tap your wristwatch, feeling the familiar hum as your attire shifts into your high-tech suit. Your pencil skirt and blouse are replaced by sleek, reinforced material designed for agility and protection. Without hesitation, you break into a run, heading towards the location where the Crimson Fox was last seen. Your gut tells you that he’s there, and you trust your instincts.

Arriving at the vicinity, you find the area shrouded in darkness. The moon provides the only light, casting an eerie glow on the deserted streets. The blackout could be a coincidence, but you know better. The Crimson Fox is meticulous. This power outage is likely part of his plan to operate undetected.

You proceed cautiously, every sense on high alert. Suddenly, you detect a slight motion behind you. Your training kicks in, and you react swiftly. Spinning around, you catch sight of him just as he reaches out to strike. You grab his hand, using his momentum to flip him over and slam him onto the ground. Your knees pin his arms, your hands securing his neck.

A strained laugh escapes him. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. Missed me?” His voice is mocking, yet there’s a hint of admiration beneath the bravado.

“Does it ever dawn to you how infuriating you are?” you reply, tightening your grip on his neck. “And to answer your question, not particularly—but I do intend to make sure I’m the last thing you’ll remember before you get knocked out.”

His eyes gleam with amusement even as he struggles to breathe. “Confident, aren’t you? Let’s see if you can back it up.”

He reaches for a rock nearby, aiming to strike your head. You react instantly, intercepting his hand and preventing the blow. Using the distraction, he shifts his weight, pushing you off balance. You roll to the side, springing to your feet with practiced ease. He’s up as well, a sly smile on his lips as he brushes himself off.

“You’re quick, I’ll give you that,” he says, circling you warily.

“And you’re annoyingly persistent,” you retort, matching his movements.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s a gift.”

The tension between you is palpable, each of you waiting for the other to make a move. He lunges first, aiming a high kick at your head. You duck and counter with a swift punch to his ribs. He twists away, his foot lashing out to sweep your legs. You jump, landing a kick to his shoulder that sends him staggering back.

“Is that all you can give me, Agent?” he taunts, recovering quickly.

“It wouldn’t be, had you been given a dead or alive bounty hanging over your head,” you reply, your tone ice-cold. You launch into a series of rapid strikes, each one aimed with precision. He blocks most, but you manage to land a few solid hits.

“I think you just don’t want to hurt me,” he whispers in your ear from behind, attempting to strangle you, but you’re quicker than the speed of light to duck down and sweep him off his feet.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d gladly leave nothing of you but your blood on the floor if you weren’t so important.” You take a step back, an eye twitching over that stupid confident look in his eyes you could see through his mask. The two of you continue to move in a deadly dance, each anticipating the other’s moves with uncanny accuracy.

“You know, you’re making this more fun than I expected,” he admits, dodging a particularly vicious punch.

“Do you ever stop talking? I’m not here for your entertainment,” you snap, delivering a powerful kick that he barely deflects.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, grinning. The fight intensifies, each of you pushing your limits. The Crimson Fox’s strikes are swift and calculated, but you match his every move with precision and strength. In the midst of the clash, he chuckles, his breath coming in short bursts.

“I wasn’t expecting you to strike so soon, honestly,” he admits, dodging a high kick aimed at his head. “Aren’t agents like you supposed to prioritize patience and analysis over rash actions?”

You block his punch and counter with a swift jab to his ribs, your expression stoic. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He laughs, sidestepping your next attack. “A bit touchy, aren’t we? Don’t you think that attitude is a bit unethical for a top secret agent—”

You cut him off with a solid punch to his jaw, the force of the blow snapping his head to the side, and you hear the sound of blood dripping down the ground. You don’t give him a moment to recover, immediately gripping the collar of his suit to bring him close to you. “Project your stereotypes onto me one more time and I’ll knock your teeth so far down your throat you’ll be flossing with your intestines.”

He shakes his head, a wry smile forming on his lips as he straightens up and pushes you off of him. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

You don’t respond, focusing instead on your next move. He feints to the left, and you’re ready, delivering a kick that he barely dodges. He’s finding you more than just a worthy adversary; he’s genuinely intrigued.

“Most people would be intimidated by now,” he remarks, catching your leg and twisting, trying to throw you off balance.

You roll with the motion, using it to your advantage as you flip back to your feet. “Most people aren’t me.”

He chuckles, clearly amused. “Yeah?”

The two of you continue your fierce exchange, the night air filled with the sounds of your combat. He’s fast, but you’re faster, your movements fluid and precise. Despite his mocking demeanor, you can see the respect growing in his eyes. The fight between you and the Crimson Fox continues with an intensity that fills the darkened area. You push yourself to dominate, leveraging every skill you’ve honed over the years. He matches you move for move, but you sense a shift—he’s beginning to tire, and you’re gaining the upper hand.

You catch him off guard by grabbing his wrist and twisting it before forcing him to the ground, his amusement only fueling your resolve. With practiced precision, you pin him down, his hands restrained beneath your knee. As you draw a dagger from your suit's concealed pocket, you pull his head back by his hair, and he tilts his head behind with all his strength to look into your eyes.

“You think you’ve got me pinned, don’t you?” he grunts, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and frustration. “But this game isn’t over until I say it is.”

“You’re not calling the shots here. I am,” you reply, your voice a steely whisper. The sight of blood seeping from beneath his mask and dripping onto the ground doesn’t faze you.

“You’re just as relentless as they say, aren’t you? Always chasing, never stopping to think,” he continues, trying to get under your skin.

“Save your breath,” you say, pressing down harder. “You’ll need it for when you’re behind bars.”

Just then, the power returns, flooding the area with light. The sudden brightness reveals the surroundings, and you both feel the shift. The Crimson Fox tenses beneath you, his surprise evident. It’s clear he didn’t see this coming, either. Realizing the cameras could be operational and your cover could be blown, you act quickly. You release him and leap to your feet, and he does the same.

“This isn’t over,” you state, your voice low and stoic, eyes filled with a fiery gaze.

He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Sure hope it isn’t.” With that, he melds into the shadows, disappearing down a different route.

You waste no time in escaping the now well-lit area, aware of the surveillance cameras and the implications of being seen. These cameras are not just ordinary security measures; they are infiltrated by your organization, and it wouldn’t be a bad thing in different circumstances, but the catch is that you’re not supposed to be going off to do your duties without informing the director board beforehand. If they catch wind of this unsanctioned operation, there would be serious repercussions.

As you make your way back, your thoughts churn. The Crimson Fox might be right—this was a rash decision. You acted on instinct, driven by the desire to catch him before he could commit another theft. But it’s definitely not a regrettable one. You learned a lot from this encounter: his fighting style, his resilience, and most importantly, that even he can be taken by surprise.

—

You wake up at dawn, the room still shrouded in darkness. A persistent beeping pulls you from sleep. Groggily, you reach for your phone, thinking you set your work alarm too early. It takes a moment before you realize the sound is not coming from your phone but from your wristwatch. You tap it, and a holographic screen flickers to life, displaying Director Han. Her expression is anything but pleasant. She looks mad, even.

“Agent,” she says curtly, “report to headquarters immediately. There are important matters we need to discuss.” Your stomach drops.

They know about last night.

You get up from your bed, a mix of dread and defiance coursing through you. You acted without orders, but you gained valuable information and prevented a theft. Surely, that counts for something.

With a sigh, you begin your morning routine far earlier than intended. You wash your face, take a shower, brush your teeth, and change into your professional attire. For today, you chose to wear a crimson red dress shirt along with a knee-length black pencil skirt, pairing it with black stockings and heels of the same color. Once you’re fully prepared, you make your way to headquarters, the early morning chill biting at your skin.

Upon arrival, a fellow agent greets you, informing you that the director board is waiting in the meeting room. The director board? You expected only Director Han. This is bigger than you thought.

You enter the room, and the atmosphere is tense. The directors look unhappy, their eyes fixed on you. Clearing your throat, you decide to cut straight to the point. “What’s the matter?”

Director Kang taps a button at the center of the table, projecting a holographic screen that shows a millisecond of footage—of you, running away, caught by the surveillance camera where you fought the Crimson Fox.

“What’s this?” Director Kang asks, though his tone implies he already knows the answer.

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Director Liu joins in, her voice cold. “Do you not understand the gravity of your actions? What you did was a blatant violation of protocol. I believe you aren’t aware of the gravity of your actions.”

You suppress a groan. Seriously?

“Then enlighten me, Director,” you deadpan, maintaining a stoic facade despite your sarcasm.

Director Kang leans forward, steepling his fingers. “Our handbook clearly states in Section 4, Paragraph 12, that ‘agents must obtain explicit authorization from a superior before engaging in field operations.’ You acted independently, without orders.”

Director Liu chimes in, “This isn’t just a minor infraction. It’s a severe breach of our protocol. You compromised the integrity of our operations.”

Director Han adds, “Following the chain of command ensures that all actions are coordinated and that risks are minimized. By going rogue, you jeopardized not just the mission, but also your safety and the safety of others.”

You know respect is vital in your line of work, but you also know you need to stand up for yourself when faced with unjust criticism. Keeping your tone professional yet harsh, you defend your actions. “Forgive me if I appear hostile,” you state, trying to keep your voice even, “but I don’t see the problem at all. If I hadn’t acted, the Crimson Fox would have another artifact within his grasp right now.”

Director Han’s eyes narrow. “It’s not about the result, Agent. It’s about the process. You broke the rules, and that cannot be tolerated.”

“I followed my instincts because time was of the essence. The Crimson Fox is a highly skilled thief. Every second counts when dealing with him. Waiting for orders could have cost us the artifact.”

Director Liu shakes her head. “This isn’t about instincts. It’s about discipline and order. We have protocols for a reason.”

“And you have agents for a reason. What did those protocols achieve last night, exactly?” you retort. “A near loss of a valuable artifact. My actions, though unorthodox, were effective. I stopped him. I gained information. Is that not what we’re here to do?”

Director Kang leans forward, his expression stern. “This is not a debate, Agent. You acted outside your authority, and that’s unacceptable.”

You meet his gaze without flinching. “What’s unacceptable is prioritizing rules over results. We’re here to protect and to prevent crime. I did exactly that. If that means bending the rules to catch a thief, then so be it.” The room falls silent, tension hanging thick in the air. You can see their frustration, but you also see a hint of grudging respect. They may not admit it, but they know you have a point.

Director Han finally speaks, her tone measured. “We understand your perspective, but there will be consequences for your actions. We cannot have agents acting on their own accord.”

You nod, accepting the inevitable. “Understood, Director. But I stand by what I did. And given the chance, I’d do it again.”

Leaving the meeting room, you feel a mix of relief and lingering defiance. Maybe the Crimson Fox was right—this was a rash decision. But it’s definitely not a regrettable one. You acted on instinct, you took a risk, and it paid off. You prevented a theft and gained insight into your elusive adversary. Still, you can’t help but be clouded with frustration over their words. Why were they so defensive about wanting you to act only when they tell you to, and not on your own accord? The whole situation felt stifling, and it gnawed at you. Starting off your day on a bad note was definitely not the way to go; you didn’t want to carry more stress with you.

Deciding to clear your head, you leave the headquarters and head to the library. There are still a few hours left before you have to open it, but you figured you’d find a way to ease yourself there. The familiar scent of books and the quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the place always had a calming effect on you. Once you reach the library and head inside, you place your bag on the desk of your registrar and head through the aisles to see if there were any books you could read to pass the time. The rows of neatly shelved books stand as a comforting reminder of the worlds and stories they hold within.

You settle on a fantasy book titled “Pirate King,” its cover adorned with a design that promises you an escape from reality. Heading back to the registrar, you sit down and begin reading. The words transport you to a different world, a place where your current frustrations seem distant and insignificant.

Eight pages in, your earlier wake-up call catches up to you, and you feel sleepiness creeping back. After all, you weren’t supposed to start your day so early. The “meeting” felt like a colossal waste of time, and the exhaustion tugs at your eyelids. Deciding to close the book, you then place it gently on the desk. You retrieve your phone from your bag and set an alarm for 8 am.

Once it’s done, you lay your head down on the table, resting on your arms. The hard surface of the desk is surprisingly comforting as you let the warmth of your own body lull you into a sense of security.

As sleep begins to consume you, the last thoughts in your mind are of the day’s tasks ahead. But for now, in this small moment of peace, you allow yourself to drift off, letting go of the morning’s stress and the frustration that came with it before the day truly begins.

The alarm beeps two hours later, and you wake up instantly, reaching for the hand mirror in the drawer to check your appearance. Satisfied that you still look presentable, you get up and walk to the door, flipping the “Closed” sign to “Open” before returning to the registrar. You begin your work, and although you feel a bit lighter, the frustration from the morning lingers.

You don’t realize how consumed you are by your thoughts until the door chime signals your first customer. Quickly, you wipe the frustration from your face, replacing it with a warm smile. “Good morning, how can I help you today?”

The patron asks for help finding a specific book, and you guide them to the correct aisle, making small talk along the way. Once they’re settled, you return to your desk and dive back into your tasks, trying to use work as a distraction. Cataloging returns, reshelving books, assisting more patrons—it all helps keep your mind off the morning’s events, but the underlying frustration still simmers.

Hours pass, and it’s now near evening. The library’s peaceful atmosphere helps somewhat, but the lingering tension remains. As you sort through a stack of books to be shelved, your thoughts drift to Wooyoung. His energy and playful demeanor always have a way of lifting your spirits, so you wonder why he hasn’t shown up today, of all days when you could really use one of his random questions or amusing anecdotes.

You pause, staring at the book in your hand without really seeing it. Wooyoung’s absence feels more pronounced today, amplifying the frustration you've been trying to suppress. His visits, though often unexpected, have become a part of your routine that you look forward to. His knack for starting light-hearted conversations could have been the perfect remedy for your current mood. With a sigh, you shelve the book and move on to the next one, trying to shake off the melancholy thoughts.

Before closing the library during the after-hours of your job and heading out, you decide to bring the fantasy book you started earlier, Pirate King, with you. Though you only managed to read eight pages before sleep consumed you entirely, the story had already hooked you, and you were eager to continue. A good book was precisely what you needed to escape the stress that had been weighing you down.

Instead of heading straight home, you decide to visit a nearby river—a place you’ve been meaning to explore for a while. Work and missions always seemed to get in the way, but today, with no missions assigned (likely part of the directors’ “punishment” for your unauthorized actions last night), you finally have the opportunity.

Upon reaching the river, you find a serene spot with a bench overlooking the water. The gentle sounds of the flowing river and the rustling leaves create a calming atmosphere. You sit down, placing your bag beside you, and pull out Pirate King. As you open the book and start reading, the world around you fades, and you let yourself get lost in the story of Captain Arahn and his crew’s daring quest for the “Endless Aurora.” The stress from earlier begins to melt away with each turn of the page. The vivid descriptions of pirate adventures and the protagonist’s daring exploits transport you to another world, providing a much-needed escape from the frustrations of reality. The tranquility of the river combined with the captivating narrative of Pirate King helps you unwind. You savor the moments of peace, knowing that they are rare in your line of work.

While you’re getting engrossed in a specific part of the story where the Captain Ahran’s crew, the Black Phoenix, encounters the mysterious Sea Witch who holds a key to the “Endless Aurora,” a familiar voice speaks up from behind the bench.

“Pirate King, huh?”

Before you even turn your head, a small smile forms on your face—you know exactly who it is.

“Hey, Wooyoung,” you greet him, moving your bag to the other side of the bench and patting the now free spot beside you. He’s more than happy to oblige, his face lighting up with that characteristic, endearing enthusiasm. You close the book and place it on your lap, turning your attention to him. However, you immediately notice a bandage stapled over the side of his mouth. He catches your expression and waves you off nonchalantly before you could bring it up.

“Oh, this? Just a little accident while helping my uncle with some construction work. Nothing to worry about, really,” he says with a grin that suggests he’s more proud of the minor injury than concerned.

You don’t pry further. “So, you know Pirate King?” you ask instead, and he enthusiastically nods his head.

“Yeah! That one’s actually one of the very first books I read when I first started visiting the library, back when you weren’t working there yet,” he explains, a fond expression on his face.

You pick up the book from your lap, examining it—it does look pretty worn. “It’s one of the old books, huh? Makes sense.” You hum, placing it back on your lap. “Do you have a thing for fantasy books?” you tilt your head, waiting for his answer. He smiles and nods, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He then reveals that he actually read that book here when he was just a kid and that since then, he’s always imagined what his life would be like if he were a fantasy character.

“What did you want to be back then?” you push further, genuinely curious.

He leans back, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Just like the characters, I’ve always wanted to be a pirate, going on adventures, sailing the seas, hunting for treasures,” he shares with enthusiasm.

You chuckle, imagining a young Wooyoung running around, pretending to be a pirate. “What was your ‘fantasy name’?” you ask.

His eyes gleam with excitement as he responds. “Captain Stormbreaker! I imagined myself as this legendary pirate, feared and respected across all the seas. My ship was called the Tempest’s Fury, and my crew was the best there ever was. We’d find hidden treasures, outsmart rival pirates, and face mythical sea monsters.”

You laugh, enjoying the vivid picture he paints. “Captain Stormbreaker, huh? That sounds pretty impressive. Did you have a backstory for him?”

Wooyoung nods eagerly. “Of course! Captain Stormbreaker was an orphan raised by a secret society of sailors who taught him everything about the sea and combat. He swore to protect the oceans from those who sought to exploit them and to uncover the secrets of the world’s greatest treasures. Every adventure was a step closer to finding his true destiny.”

You smile, feeling your stress melt away as you listen to his animated storytelling. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he says with a wide grin. “It was my favorite daydream growing up. And who knows, maybe one day I’ll find a way to make it a reality, even if it’s just in spirit.”

You nod, touched by his infectious enthusiasm. “Well, Captain Stormbreaker, I’m honored to be in your presence. Maybe one day, you’ll have to take me on one of your adventures.”

He laughs, a twinkle in his eye. “Deal. And who knows, maybe you have a hidden pirate persona too?”

You chuckle, the idea intriguing you. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

He pursues the idea, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Now that we’re at it, have you ever thought of having a pirate persona or a fantasy persona in general?”

You smile, touched by his boundless imagination. He seems like such a free spirit, and there’s a sense of freedom within him that you can’t help but admire. “I’ve never really thought of it,” you say with a shrug, playing along. “But now that you mention it, I’m quite curious—what persona would you construct for me, if given the chance?”

Wooyoung’s face lights up with excitement. “Oh, that’s easy! You’d be the enigmatic ‘Captain Shadowstrike’—a master strategist and fearless leader, known for your sharp wit and unparalleled combat skills. Your ship would be called the Nightfall, a sleek, fast vessel designed for stealth and precision.”

You laugh softly, the name and description fitting surprisingly well. “Captain Shadowstrike, huh? I like the sound of that. Tell me more.” You tuck a couple strands of your hair behind your ear when the evening breeze hits your face, waiting for his answer.

He puts his index finger on his chin, fully immersed in his tale. “Captain Shadowstrike was once part of a royal navy but turned rogue after discovering corruption within the ranks. You’d use your insider knowledge to stay one step ahead of both the law and rival pirates. Your crew would be a mix of skilled outcasts, each with their own unique talents, fiercely loyal to you.”

“And what would be my mission?” You lean forward, placing your palm flat down on the cold surface of the wooden bench, genuinely curious now.

“To uncover the lost city of Seloria,” Wooyoung says without hesitation. “Legend has it that Seloria holds treasures beyond imagination and secrets that could change the world. But it’s also guarded by ancient traps and mythical creatures, making it the ultimate challenge for any pirate.”

You raise an eyebrow, impressed by the depth of his story. “Sounds like quite an adventure. And what about you? Would Captain Stormbreaker and Captain Shadowstrike be allies or rivals?”

He grins, the playful glint in his eyes returning. “Definitely allies. We’d join forces to take on the biggest challenges and split the treasures. Imagine the legends that would be told about our exploits!”

You nod, feeling a sense of a new depth within your connection with Wooyoung brimming. “Well, Captain Stormbreaker, it looks like we make a formidable team.”

Wooyoung’s smile is infectious. “Two pirates teaming up to cause havoc catered to their own liking, call that Bonnie and Clyde in a different universe.”

He then shifts the conversation once both your laughters die down, a question that’s been on his mind for the past few minutes now surfacing. “What brings you here, anyway?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

You let out a soft sigh, looking towards the river, where the moon’s dim light shone in its reflection. “Today didn’t exactly go well.” You shrug, pursing your lips.

A look of concern flashes in his eyes, but he tries to lighten the mood. “Probably a good idea I didn’t stop by the library today then. I might’ve made your day worse with my endless nagging.”

Although you know he’s joking, you shake your head and look him in the eyes. “I was waiting for you to show up, actually.”

He blinks, momentarily taken aback. “Really? You were?”

You nod, feeling a bit vulnerable but honest. “Yeah. Your energy is contagious. It would have been nice to have a distraction from everything that happened.”

Wooyoung’s expression softens, and he leans back on the bench, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’m glad I ran into you here, then. If I can help distract you from a bad day, that’s the least I can do.”

You smile at his sincerity. “You always seem to lift my spirits, Wooyoung—and oftentimes, you’re blissfully unaware of it. It’s one of your many talents.”

He grins, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Well, if cheering you up means talking about pirate adventures and imagining ourselves as legendary captains, then I’m more than happy to oblige.” You both laugh, and the conversation flows naturally, easing the tension of the day.

You look at the book in your lap again and ask, “Do you have any favorite character from Pirate King in particular?”

Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking to the book and then back to you. “I do, but I might drop a few spoiler bombs here and there. Are you sure you want to hear about it?” He asks, looking a bit sheepish.

You wave him off with a smile. “I don’t mind at all. I’d be more than happy to listen to you. Go ahead.”

Relieved, Wooyoung’s eyes light up, and he shifts excitedly on the bench. “Well, my favorite is definitely Captain Arahn! He’s the best character in the entire series for me,” he says, enthusiasm bubbling over. “I mean, first off, he’s the youngest captain to ever sail the seas, and he’s got this whole rebellious yet noble vibe going on. He’s incredibly smart and always a step ahead of his enemies, which is just so cool. There was this part where he outsmarted the entire Navy fleet with just a handful of his crew, and it was so epic!”

He continues, gesturing animatedly. “And his backstory! It’s so tragic yet inspiring. Losing his family at a young age and then rising from nothing to become the most feared and respected pirate captain—it’s just so compelling. Plus, his relationship with his crew is amazing. He’s not just their leader; he’s their friend and confidant. The way he treats everyone with respect and values their opinions, it’s no wonder they’re so loyal to him.”

You can’t help but smile as Wooyoung geeks out, his passion infectious. “And don’t get me started on his combat skills! He’s not just a brilliant strategist but also a formidable fighter. He had a duel with an Admiral named Valen, and it was one of the most intense scenes ever. His dual-wielding technique is so unique, and the way he incorporates acrobatics into his fighting style is just... wow.”

Wooyoung pauses for breath, his eyes sparkling. “And then there’s his softer side, the way he cares for the less fortunate and always fights for justice, even though he’s labeled an outlaw. That one scene where he saves the village from the corrupt governor really shows his true character. He’s the perfect mix of tough and tender, which makes him so relatable and admirable.”

You find yourself in a trance, a fond expression on your face as you listen to him with full attention. Wooyoung’s words flow endlessly, painting a vivid picture of Captain Arahn and why he resonates so deeply with him. His excitement is palpable, and you can see how much this character means to him.

“And the symbolism!” Wooyoung continues, his voice lowering a bit as he leans closer. “Captain Arahn’s ship, The Phoenix, represents rebirth and resilience. Every time it seems like they’re done for, they rise from the ashes stronger than before. It’s such a powerful metaphor for his life and his journey. And those moments of introspection he has while staring out at the sea, questioning his decisions and pondering his future—those are some of my favorite parts. They add so much depth to his character.”

He finally stops, a little out of breath, and looks at you with a wide smile. “Sorry, I get carried away when I talk about Pirate King. It’s just such an incredible story.”

You shake your head, your smile warm and genuine. “No, no. There’s nothing to apologize for. I love hearing you talk about it. Your passion is infectious, and it’s clear how much Captain Arahn means to you. It’s nice.”

Wooyoung beams, looking pleased and slightly bashful. “Thanks. I’m glad I could share it with you.”

As the night progresses, you find yourself lost in conversation with Wooyoung, his infectious energy gradually lifting the weight off your shoulders. It isn’t until he pauses, a wide smile on his face as you laugh, that you realize how much better you feel.

“Is there something on my face?” you ask, reaching for the small mirror in your bag. Before you can open it, Wooyoung gently grabs your wrist, shaking his head.

“No, it’s just... happiness looks good on you.”

His words catch you off guard, sending a warm, unexpected surge through your veins somewhere deep in the confines of your soul. Speechless, you don’t trust your words enough to speak for you, so respond with a genuine smile, which he mirrors with delight. Maybe Pirate King will become your go-to read from now on—not just for the tough days, but for the good ones, too.

—

You find yourself seated in the austere meeting room once again, facing the stern visages of the director board. They’ve called an urgent meeting to discuss the latest developments regarding the Crimson Fox. Apparently, they’ve managed to gather some critical intel: his next target is known. The artifact in question is an ancient, seemingly mundane item—an old, weathered compass without any apparent monetary value. Yet, the directors treat it as if it's the most crucial object in existence.

As Director Kang finishes outlining the basic details, confusion stirs within you. Two questions loom large: Why would the Crimson Fox target such an unremarkable artifact? And why does the director board seem far more driven to stop him this time compared to other, more valuable heists?

Unable to contain your curiosity, you speak up. “Do we have any information on why the Crimson Fox has chosen this particular artifact as his next target?”

Director Han meets your gaze but offers no satisfying answer. “We don’t have any specific details on his motives,” she says curtly, avoiding your eyes.

You frown, sensing there’s more to this than they’re letting on. “And why is this artifact so important to us? It seems to be treated with an unusual amount of importance compared to previous discussions about highly valuable items.”

The room falls silent, tension palpable in the air. Director Kang clears his throat and begins his explanation. “This compass,” he starts, holding up an image of the artifact on the holographic display, “is no ordinary navigational tool. It dates back to the early 15th century and is believed to have belonged to Admiral Zheng He, the famous Chinese explorer. While its monetary value might seem insignificant compared to other artifacts we’ve dealt with, its historical and strategic importance cannot be overstated.”

He taps the display, and a series of documents and old maps appear. “The compass was reputedly used during Zheng He’s voyages across the Indian Ocean and as far as the east coast of Africa. More importantly, it's said to be imbued with magnetic properties unlike any modern compass. These unique properties have puzzled historians and scientists alike, as they hint at a potentially advanced understanding of geomagnetism long before it was formally studied.”

He continues, “The compass itself doesn’t just represent historical significance; it’s believed to contain a map—hidden within its construction—that leads to one of Zheng He’s lost treasure fleets. If this map is real and falls into the wrong hands, it could lead to untold wealth and power. The geopolitical ramifications alone are enormous, and we're running out of time.”

Director Liu interjects, her tone serious. “We have reason to believe that the Crimson Fox has discovered this secret. His previous heists—seemingly random—were actually part of a pattern leading him to this very compass. He’s pieced together enough of the puzzle to make this his next target.”

Their explanations raise more questions than it answers, but you decide to press on. “But why the urgency? You’re saying time is running out—what exactly do you mean by that?”

Director Kang’s gaze sharpens, his tone growing more insistent. “The Crimson Fox is planning to strike tonight. We’ve intercepted enough chatter to know his timeline. This is why we need to act quickly. The organization will provide you with backup for this mission.”

You blink, taken aback. “Backup? Why now, of all times? Why do you think I need assistance?”

Director Han interjects with a vague, non-committal answer. “It’s to ensure your safety. The stakes are higher with this artifact, and we can’t afford to let him succeed.”

Their responses only deepen your skepticism, but you sense that pushing for more information would be futile. Leaning back in your seat, you decide to give them the benefit of the doubt, at least for now. “Alright, what’s the plan for tonight?”

Director Kang leans forward, his fingers steepled. “We have a detailed strategy in place. You will be the lead operative, with Agents Kim and Park as your immediate support. The warehouse where the compass is held has been fortified, and we’ve coordinated with local law enforcement to set up a perimeter. Your task is to intercept and apprehend the Crimson Fox before he can escape with the artifact.”

Director Liu adds, “We’ve also placed discreet surveillance around the area. Our tech team will be monitoring the feeds and providing real-time updates. We need you to stay sharp and rely on your instincts. This is a critical mission, and failure is not an option.”

You nod, absorbing the information. The pressure is palpable, but you steel yourself for the task ahead. “Understood. I’ll be ready.”

The directors give their final instructions, and you leave the meeting room, your mind still clouded with frustration and doubt. Why is this compass so important? What aren’t they telling you? As you head out of the headquarters, you decide to put these questions aside for now. There’s a mission to prepare for, and you need to be at your best.

Looking at how important this compass seems to be for the director board, you spend the next few hours in the headquarters’ high-tech training room, ensuring you’ll be at your best later. The room is equipped with state-of-the-art equipment designed to push agents to their limits.

You start with a series of warm-up exercises, focusing on flexibility and agility. Dynamic stretches ease the tension in your muscles, followed by a few rounds of shadowboxing to get your blood pumping. Moving on to the obstacle course, you navigate through various challenges designed to test your speed, coordination, and problem-solving skills. Each segment mimics potential real-world scenarios: crawling under laser grids, scaling walls, and maneuvering through a maze filled with holographic enemies that simulate combat situations. Next, you head to the combat simulator. The room transforms, projecting a virtual environment around you. You engage in hand-to-hand combat with AI opponents, each programmed with different fighting styles. Sweat drips down your forehead as you dodge, block, and strike, honing your reflexes and precision.

After the intense session, you shift to the firing range. You pick up a variety of weapons, from standard issue pistols to more specialized firearms, practicing your aim and control. Each target is a representation of a potential threat, some stationary and others moving unpredictably. You focus on accuracy and speed, each shot echoing through the room. Finally, you conclude with a cooldown routine. Gentle stretches and controlled breathing help your body recover, ensuring you’re in peak condition for the mission ahead. Satisfied with your preparations, you decide to call it a day and head to the headquarters’ lounge to take a breather.

In the lounge, you throw your head back, hanging it off the couch while closing your eyes. Just then, you feel the spot beside you sink down, and your eyes shoot open, only to see a fellow agent of yours sitting down while drinking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper.

“Yeosang,” you straighten up in your seat, greeting him. The said man looks up from his newspaper, putting the coffee down on the lounge table as he turns to you, greeting you with a small smile on his face.

Kang Yeosang was the only fellow agent of yours you were close with—your bond forming one night two years ago when you had to be his personal assistant when he was new to ins and outs of being a secret agent. Long ago, you kept a promise to yourself not to let yourself warm up to any agents in this organization because you never know when you’ll lose them, and you don’t have it in you to suffer with grief countless times. But as soon as you felt an energy of warmth and naivety radiating from Yeosang as if he was someone who would not find a problem with letting people walk all over him as long as it benefited them—somehow, you made it a personal mission to keep him under your watch and teach him to be as strong as possible. You know how cruel this workspace and this world in general is, and you don’t want him to be harmed by that.

“Heard they were sending backup with you for your mission later,” he muses, and you immediately groan softly in response.

“Don’t remind me. It would’ve been better if you were one of the agents they assigned to accompany me—or if they hadn’t decided to send backup my way at all,” you slump your shoulders. It’s not that you don’t want to work with others, but you have a tendency of being hard-headed and reckless when you’re on the scene, and you know you’ll hardly be able to protect anyone that comes along with you for the danger you attract. It’s not that you hate your fellow agents—you just don’t want to drag them into the different level of danger you’re standing in compared to them.

“I still don’t get why they refuse to assign us to missions together.” He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “You tell me,” you deadpan, shrugging.

“How’s the cat-and-mouse game with the Crimson Fox going, anyway?” he turns to you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

You then tell him all about it. Ever since you were able to train him to his finest shape, the director board transferred him to a different department, so you haven’t been able to hang out as much. Agents were also strictly forbidden to spend time together outside of their jobs—which you think is a very weird rule—so you always make sure to make the most out of moments like this with Yeosang.

“It’s been... complicated,” you admit. “The Crimson Fox is slippery, always a step ahead. But it appears we finally have a solid lead on his next target,” you cut your words off momentarily to lean closer, whispering in his ear, “the board’s acting a little shady about it, though.”

Yeosang listens intently as you describe the old compass and the board’s intense focus on it. “That does sound strange,” he agrees. “Why would they be so concerned about a seemingly worthless artifact?”

You shake your head. “That’s the mystery. There’s something about this compass they’re not telling me. It feels like there’s a bigger picture I’m missing.”

Yeosang frowns, deep in thought. “Be careful out there. If they’re sending backup, it means they’re expecting something significant.”

You nod, appreciating his concern. “I will. Thanks, Yeosang. I’ll try to keep you updated, even if it’s just through official channels.”

Just then, the speakers installed throughout the headquarters ring, and Director Han’s voice booms through them. “Agent Sylvil. Your presence is needed in the meeting room immediately.”

Sighing, you turn to Yeosang, lips pursed. “Well, I guess it’s time.”

He pats your shoulder, giving you an encouraging smile. “Take care out there. You’ve got this.” You ruffle his hair in response, standing up and heading straight to the meeting room. As you enter, you find many of your fellow agents already gathered, armed and ready. A dozen of them, each one looking determined and focused.

Director Han steps forward and begins to speak, her voice firm and authoritative. “Agents, tonight’s mission is critical. The Crimson Fox’s target is the ancient compass, and we cannot allow him to acquire it. Here’s the plan: We will deploy in two teams. Team Utopia, led by Agent Kim, will secure the perimeter and establish surveillance points. Team Aurora, led by Agent Park, will be the primary assault force and will engage the Crimson Fox directly if necessary.”

She pauses, looking around the room to ensure everyone is following. “Our mode of transport for this mission will be motorcycles. This will allow for quick maneuverability and a fast response time. Each team will have a designated route to the target location. Stay in constant communication and be prepared for anything.”

Director Han then turns to you. “Agent, your role is crucial. You’ll be providing overwatch and will have the autonomy to move as you see fit. We trust your judgment to intervene at the right moment. Remember, the goal is to secure the artifact and, if possible, capture the Crimson Fox. Any questions?”

No one speaks up, the air thick with anticipation. “Alright then. Gear up and move out.”

You and the other agents head to the garage, where sleek black motorcycles await. You mount your bike, choosing to stay behind the others to keep an eye on them. The engines roar to life, and soon, you’re speeding through the city streets, the wind whipping past you. The ride is swift, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you approach the target location. Upon arrival, you quietly separate yourself from the other agents without them noticing, slipping into the shadows to position yourself strategically.

The moonlight casts eerie shadows over the old, abandoned warehouse where the ancient compass is hidden. The 12 agents form a perimeter, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of the Crimson Fox. The night is still, the only sound being the distant hum of the city.

Suddenly, a figure drops from the rafters with feline grace, landing silently in the middle of the room. The Crimson Fox straightens up, his lips curling into a mocking smile. His eyes glint with amusement as he takes in the sight of the armed agents surrounding him.

“Oh, wow,” he drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “An entire squad just for little old me? I’m flattered.” He pauses, his gaze flicking around the room. “But where’s my favorite nemesis? Why didn’t they send her alone instead? Surely that would be more worth my time.”

The agents glance around, noticing your absence. Their in-ear monitors beep, and your voice comes through. “I’ll be in the shadows to strike when he least expects it. Keep your guard up at all times—this is no ordinary thief you’re facing.”

The Crimson Fox notices the change in their demeanor, even without seeing the monitors. A wicked smile spreads across his face. “So she’s here, huh? Good. This should be interesting.”

The agents tighten their grips on their weapons, readying themselves for the confrontation. You remain hidden, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The tension in the air is palpable, the night shrouded in a veil of impending conflict. Agent Kim, leading Team Utopia, steps forward. “Give up. There’s no way out of this.”

The Crimson Fox laughs, a low, menacing sound. “Oh, I think I’ll manage.” With a sudden burst of speed, he darts forward, his movements a blur. He disarms Agent Park with a swift kick, sending his weapon skittering across the floor.

“Aurora, tighten formation.” you command, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “Utopia, flank him from the sides.” The agents move quickly, trying to encircle the Crimson Fox, but he is relentless. He spins, his fists and feet striking out with deadly precision. One agent goes down, then another, each one taken out with frightening efficiency.

“Is this the best you can do?” he taunts, delivering a spinning back kick to Agent Park’s midsection, sending him sprawling. “Don’t disappoint me now.”

“Aurora, regroup near the crates,” you order, directing them to a safer position. "Utopia, he’s heading your way.”

“Got it!” Agent Kim responds, signaling his team to reposition. They move swiftly, trying to outmaneuver the Crimson Fox. The fight is chaotic, the agents struggling to keep up with the Crimson Fox’s lightning-fast attacks. He seems to be everywhere at once, his movements a blur of dark red and black. He taunts them mercilessly, his voice a constant stream of mocking comments.

“Come on, you can do better than this!” he jeers, dodging a punch and retaliating with a swift elbow to the jaw. “Where’s your spirit, your drive? Did you leave it at home?”

You watch the scene unfold, your mind racing. “Agent Kim, he’s heading for the northwest corner. Cut him off.”

“On it!” Agent Kim replies, his team sprinting to intercept the Crimson Fox. The agents close in, their determination unwavering despite the odds. The Crimson Fox, however, remains one step ahead. He leaps onto a stack of crates, using the high ground to his advantage. From his elevated position, he delivers a powerful kick, sending another agent flying.

“Are you watching this?” he calls out to you, his voice dripping with derision. “Is this really the best your precious organization can offer?”

Your hands tighten into fists. “Utopia, distract him from the front. Aurora, prepare to flank.” The agents execute your orders, Aurora engaging the Crimson Fox head-on while Utopia moves to surround him. The fight intensifies, punches and kicks flying in every direction. The Crimson Fox parries each attack with ease, his movements fluid and precise.

“Nice try,” he sneers, catching Agent Park's arm and twisting it painfully. “But you’ll need more than that to catch me.”

Agent Park lunges forward, attempting to tackle the Crimson Fox, but he sidesteps smoothly, delivering a knee to his stomach. “Too slow!” he laughs, throwing him aside.

“Utopia, hit him from the left,” you instruct, your eyes never leaving the Crimson Fox. The agents comply, but the Crimson Fox anticipates their move. He ducks low, sweeping his leg out and knocking two agents off their feet. “Predictable,” he mutters, his gaze flicking upwards. “Come on, Agent. I know you’re out there.”

You grit your teeth, knowing you have to stay hidden for now. “Aurora, push him towards the back wall. Utopia, be ready to cut him off.” The agents press forward, forcing the Crimson Fox to retreat towards the back of the warehouse. He glances around, a calculating look in his eyes. “Interesting strategy,” he muses, blocking a punch from Agent Kim and countering with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “But it won’t work.”

Agent Kim regains his footing, charging at the Crimson Fox. “We’ve got you now!”

The Crimson Fox smirks, catching his arm and flipping him over his shoulder with effortless strength. “Do you, though?” He looks directly into the shadows where you're hidden. "I know you're waiting for the right moment, Agent. But how many more of your friends will fall before you act?"

Your heart races, knowing he’s trying to provoke you. “Hold your positions,” you instruct the agents. “He’s trying to bait us.”

Agent Kim narrows his eyes, his breathing heavy but determined. “We won’t let you win, Crimson Fox.”

The Crimson Fox chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, I already have.” He moves with blinding speed, taking down another agent with a swift combination of strikes. “And you know it.”

The fight continues, the agents growing weary but refusing to back down. The Crimson Fox remains relentless, his taunts never ceasing. “You should have stayed home,” he sneers, delivering a powerful kick to Agent Park’s chest. “This was a losing battle from the start.”

You watch, frustration boiling within you. “Aurora, fall back to the east side. Utopia, cover them.” The agents regroup, their resolve unwavering despite their injuries. They reposition, trying to find an opening, but the Crimson Fox’s defenses are impenetrable.

“Why do you fight for them?” he questions, his voice a mocking whisper as he catches Agent Kim's fist and twists it painfully. “Do you really believe in their cause?”

Agent Kim grits his teeth, refusing to yield. “We fight for justice.”

The Crimson Fox laughs, a cold, hollow sound. “Justice? How quaint.” He releases Kim with a shove, turning his attention to the others. “You are all pawns in a game you have yet to know of.”

You take a deep breath, your eyes locked onto the Crimson Fox, who is circling the agents like a predator. His confidence is palpable, a smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the scene. “What’s the plan, Agent? Are you going to save them at the last minute?”

You remain silent, watching from your vantage point on the ceiling, waiting for the perfect opportunity. The Crimson Fox’s eyes narrow, sensing the tension in the air. “Well? I'm waiting.”

The agents spring into action at your signal, converging on the Crimson Fox from all sides. He meets them head-on, his movements a blur of calculated strikes and swift dodges. Agent Park’s lunges first, aiming for a disabling blow, but the Crimson Fox sidesteps effortlessly, delivering a crushing elbow to his ribs. He crumples to the ground, gasping for breath.

“These are the agents that are supposed to take me down?” the Crimson Fox taunts, his voice dripping with disdain.

Agent Kim tries to catch him off guard with a low sweep, but the Crimson Fox leaps over her leg, landing a brutal kick to his shoulder that sends him sprawling. He doesn’t give him a chance to recover, following up with a series of rapid punches that leave him dazed and bleeding.

“Stay together,” you command through the comms, your voice tense. “Don’t let him isolate you.”

The agents regroup, their faces set with determination despite their injuries. They attempt a coordinated attack, moving in unison to trap the Crimson Fox, but he’s always one step ahead. He disarms Agent Park with a quick twist of his wrist, then slams him into a nearby wall with a force that leaves cracks in the concrete.

“Pathetic,” the Crimson Fox sneers, glancing around at the fallen agents. “You should have brought more.”

Agent Park, struggling to his feet, charges again. The Crimson Fox catches his fist mid-swing, twisting his arm behind his back and slamming him to the ground. He doesn’t get up this time.

“When’s your leader planning on coming out?" the Crimson Fox calls out, his voice echoing through the warehouse. “Or does she want to just stay in the shadows and let you all crumble?”

You watch helplessly as Agent after Agent falls. The Crimson Fox’s taunts grow more vicious, each victory fueling his arrogance. “This is almost too easy. Do you really think you can stop me?”

Agent Kim manages to land a glancing blow to his jaw, but the Crimson Fox’s retaliatory strike is swift and punishing. He grabs him by the collar and throws him into a stack of crates, the impact knocking him unconscious.

“Aurora, pull back—” you instruct, but it's too late. The Crimson Fox is relentless, cutting down the agents with brutal efficiency. His movements are a deadly dance, each strike perfectly timed and devastatingly effective.

“Come on, Agent,” he mocks, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “Are you just going to let them die?”

Agent Park makes one last desperate attempt, but the Crimson Fox sidesteps, delivering a bone-crushing kick to his knee. He collapses with a cry of pain, clutching his leg.

The warehouse falls silent except for the labored breathing of the wounded. The Crimson Fox stands amid the fallen agents, his chest heaving from exertion but his confidence unshaken. “Is that it?”

You feel a surge of anger and frustration. The agents lie scattered around the warehouse, unconscious and severely wounded. The Crimson Fox’s eyes scan the room, searching for you.

“I know you’re here,” he says, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

You wait for the perfect moment, then launch yourself from your hiding spot on the ceiling, tackling him from behind. Your kick sends him nearly falling to the ground, but he manages to steady himself just in time.

“Finally decided to join the party, did you?” he taunts, turning to face you, a gleam of surprise and annoyance in his eyes.

You don’t respond, keeping your focus solely on him. The weight of the fallen agents presses on you, fueling your determination. “This ends now,” you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The Crimson Fox laughs, a cold, mocking sound. “I don’t think so.”

The fight begins in earnest. You lunge at the Crimson Fox, your movements precise and calculated. You strike first, landing a solid hit on his jaw. He stumbles back, surprised by your speed and strength.

“Can’t you do any better?” you taunt, pressing your advantage.

The Crimson Fox regains his footing, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You think you’re special because you knocked me back a bit?” he sneers. “Your friends didn’t fare so well.”

Ignoring his taunts, you unleash a flurry of punches and kicks, each one driving him further back. For a moment, you feel a surge of confidence—you have the upper hand. But as the fight drags on, his words start to seep into your mind.

“Look at them,” he says, gesturing to the fallen agents. “All of them thought they could beat me. They thought you would save them.”

You grit your teeth, trying to block out his words, but the pained expressions on the faces of your fellow agents remain in your line of sight. Each glance at their unconscious bodies weakens your resolve.

“You’re so dedicated to your job,” the Crimson Fox continues, dodging your next strike with ease. “So dedicated you sacrificed their lives to get it done. You’re making it more obvious that you want to catch me not because you have to, but because that’s the only thing that’ll reassure you that you’re still good enough.”

“Shut up,” you growl, trying to regain your focus. But the words sting, hitting closer to home than you'd like to admit.

“You let them fight me without your aid, thinking they could handle it. Look at where they are now—broken and bleeding because of your arrogance.”

His relentless taunting chips away at your concentration. The memory of your fallen comrades’ faith in you and your failure to protect them plays over and over in your mind. Your attacks become sloppy, your defense weakens. He starts to gain the upper hand, his strikes landing with increasing accuracy and power.

“You think you can handle this on your own? Pathetic. They were counting on you, and you failed them.”

“Open that mouth of yours one more and I’ll make sure you’ll have no voice to speak for you by the end of the night,” you say through ragged breaths, but the doubt in your voice is unmistakable. He doesn’t listen to you, choosing to continue driving you on edge. “You were their last hope, and you let them down.” He laughs, his voice a poisonous whisper.

“You let them die.”

The last shred of your focus crumbles. You swing at him, desperate to silence his mocking voice, but he dodges easily, moving behind you in a flash. You feel a sharp, sudden pain at the back of your neck as he hits a nerve. Your vision blurs, darkness creeping in at the edges. “No,” you whisper, but it’s too late. The world goes black, and you collapse to the ground, unconscious.

When you wake up a short while later, the first thing you notice is the cold, hard chair pressing against your back. The tight ropes wrapped around your torso dig into your skin, restricting your movement. You struggle, the chair creaking beneath you, but the bindings hold firm. Your mouth is gagged with a bandana, muffling any sound you try to make. Frustration and anger bubble up inside you as you recall the events leading to your capture. Your mind races, replaying the moment the Crimson Fox struck you down. You should have been better. You should have saved your team.

Out of the shadows, the Crimson Fox emerges, his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. He walks toward you with a casual, almost leisurely pace, his eyes never leaving yours. Despite the mask still covering the rest of your face, he can see the fury and humiliation in your eyes.

“Look who’s awake,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery. “Comfortable?”

You try to stay calm and composed, but the sight of him makes your blood boil. You strain against the ropes, the chair creaking louder, but it’s no use. The gag stifles your attempts to speak, turning your words into frustrated, muffled sounds, making the Crimson Fox laugh. He crouches in front of you, close enough that you can see the amusement in his eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look.” He rolls his eyes. “You brought this upon yourself.”

You glare at him, your eyes burning with defiance. He scoffs, clearly entertained by your futile struggle. “You thought you could catch me, didn’t you?” he says, shaking his head. “Such arrogance. Did you really think you were good enough for that?” He stands up, pacing around you. “You know, I was expecting more from you. I’ve heard so much about your skills and your dedication. But now that I’m seeing you like this... I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”

You try to shout something, but the gag turns your words into unintelligible noise. The Crimson Fox laughs, clearly enjoying your helplessness. “Hmm? What’s that? Trying to say something?” He leans in closer, his voice a whisper. “You look so vulnerable right now. So weak. It's almost... endearing.”

He steps back, tilting his head as he looks at you. “Tell me something,” he says, his tone more thoughtful now. “Have you ever doubted your cause? Ever wondered if the side you’re fighting for is truly the right one?”

You frown, trying to understand his angle. He chuckles softly. “Ah, I see it in your eyes. That flicker of doubt. You’ve always been so dedicated to your job, so sure of your purpose. But have you ever stopped to question it?”

He starts speaking in riddles, his words twisting and turning. “Not everything is as it seems. Sometimes, the lines between right and wrong blur. Heroes and villains, they’re often two sides of the same coin. Haven’t you ever considered that?”

Your eyes narrow, and he smirks. “You think you’re fighting for justice, for the greater good. But what if the very people you work for are hiding the truth from you? What if you’re just a piece of a bigger puzzle?”

He crouches down again, closer this time. “You see, they’re not as noble as you think. They have secrets, dark ones. And you’re blindly following their orders, thinking you’re making a difference. But are you?”

His words worm their way into your mind, sowing seeds of doubt. “You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that. But dedication without question, without understanding, is just another form of blindness.”

“Think about it. Reflect on your cause,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of mockery and genuine challenge. He leans forward, hooking a finger under the bandana wrapped around your mouth, and pulls it down. “Because sometimes, the world is not always as it seems.”

As the gag falls away, he’s back to taunting you. “So, Agent, feeling a bit more talkative now?” You meet his gaze with a fiery glare, blood from a split lip pooling in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you spit the blood onto his face. He’s taken aback for a moment, wiping it off with a disgusted sneer. But then he scoffs, a dark laugh bubbling up from his chest.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” he says, clearly amused. “I admire your spirit. It’s a shame it’s so misdirected.”

“You think tying me up proves anything?” you retort, eyes burning with anger. “It just shows how terrified you are of facing me head-on.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying the banter. “Terrified? No, no. I’m just smart. Smarter than your entire organization, it seems.”

“You hide behind tricks and deception,” you snap. “Real strength doesn’t need such cowardice.”

He wipes the remaining blood from his face, looking at you with a mix of admiration and disdain. “Real strength? Like the strength your agents showed? Oh, wait, they’re all unconscious.”

You grit your teeth, the sight of your fallen comrades still fresh in your mind. “You won’t get away with this. You think this is over?” you challenge, keeping your voice firm despite your resolve crumbling. “This is just the beginning. I will hunt you down, no matter where you hide.”

He smirks, clearly entertained by your defiance. “Big words for someone in your position. Now that you can use that mouth of yours, tell me, why are you so dedicated to catching me? What is it you’re really fighting for? You’ve always claimed you’re fighting for… justice,” he mocks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And yet, your ‘justice’ left your comrades bleeding and broken.”

“They knew the risks,” you reply, refusing to let him see any doubt. “We all did. And we’re willing to pay the price to stop you.”

"Such dedication," he muses, almost to himself. “Haven’t you ever wondered if you’re fighting for the right side?”

You narrow your eyes, refusing to let his words shake you. “Save your philosophical musings for someone who cares. I know what’s right, and it’s not you.”

“We’ll see,” he says, standing up straight and looking down at you. “We’ll see how long that conviction lasts.”

He leans in closer, his voice a low whisper. “Remember, Agent, the truth is often hidden in plain sight. Keep your eyes open.”

He leaps out of the window by the roof of the warehouse, a mocking farewell echoing back to you. As soon as he’s out of sight, you struggle against the ropes binding you. Although he left you untouched while you were unconscious, he had been smart enough to ensure you were restricted from using your suit’s full capabilities. Every movement sends sharp aches through your body, the ropes digging into your skin.

Just then, you notice a small red button blinking in the corner of the room. Squinting, you recognize it as a surveillance camera. Had it been shut down the entire time? The fact that it’s only working now, after the Crimson Fox left, could only mean one thing—he saw this coming. He knew what was going to happen and had prepared meticulously. As you continue to struggle, your in-ear monitor beeps, signaling an incoming call. Director Han’s voice comes through, urgent and tense.

“Agent, the Crimson Fox knew of our plan beforehand. He managed to shut down all cameras so we couldn’t supervise you and your team.”

You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling up. “Director Han, I need immediate assistance at the warehouse. My fellow agents are severely wounded.”

“Yes, I can see you from the camera in the separate room you’re in,” Director Han responds. “We’re mobilizing a team now. Hang tight.”

“Prioritize the agents first,” you urge, your voice firm despite the pain. “They need medical attention immediately. I can manage, but they can't.”

The call ends, leaving you in silence once more. Your mind races, guilt gnawing at you. The sight of your comrades lying unconscious, wounded by the Crimson Fox, flashes through your mind. You should have done more. You should have been faster, smarter.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours, each second marked by the pulse of the red light on the camera. Finally, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching, hurried and heavy. The door bursts open, and medical personnel rush in, followed by a team of agents. Before they even get to ask about your condition, you cut them off, urgency in your voice. “What’s the status of the other agents?”

“They’re injured but stable. The medics are with them now,” one of the agents informs you.

“Good. Hurry up and cut these ropes. They need help more than I do,” you command, your tone brooking no argument. As soon as you’re free from the ropes’ grasp, you try to stand up quickly but a sharp pain shoots through your body, making you hiss. The agents rush to assist, attempting to place your arm over their shoulders for support, but you wave them off. “Go back to the others and prioritize their care,” you insist.

The agents exchange uncertain glances, clearly concerned. You usually avoid using your position as the highest-level secret agent to assert authority, but this is different. “That’s an order,” you state firmly. “Now go.”

Reluctantly, they comply, hurrying back to where the other agents are. Left alone in the room, you take a moment to steady yourself, looking up at the window where the Crimson Fox made his escape. A sigh escapes your lips, and you begin to move, each step sending waves of pain through your body. Your hand clutches your torso, pressing against the spot where the Crimson Fox had landed a particularly hard punch. You cough, a pool of blood splattering the floor, and groan in pain. But you know your fellow agents have gone through worse. They’re more hurt than you are. Summoning every ounce of strength, you follow after the medics who had just left. When you reach the area of the warehouse where the Crimson Fox had easily knocked out your team, the sight that greets you fills you with guilt. Agents are being aided or carried away on stretchers, their injuries severe. Medics work swiftly, tending to wounds and stabilizing the unconscious. You stand there, watching the scene unfold, guilt gnawing at you.

Were you really good enough? Were you really good enough if you let this happen? The question lingers in your mind, the faces of your fallen comrades haunting you. Each pained expression, each wound, is a testament to the stakes of your mission and the high price of failure. You feel a weight settling over you, heavier than any physical injury. The responsibility, the burden of leadership, and the doubt of your own abilities press down on you, almost suffocating. You’re supposed to be their shield, their leader. And you had failed.

Back at headquarters, you’re the only agent still conscious after the fight, the sole presence in the meeting room with the directors. The silence feels deafening as you stare into the void, numbness enveloping you. You attempt to distract yourself from the harrowing events, but it’s futile. Director Liu’s sharp call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts, and you clear your throat, mumbling an apology. She then begins the debriefing. “When you and the other agents were being escorted back to headquarters, the investigative team went to the warehouse to locate the artifact. The location was provided to them by the director board. Surprisingly, it was still there.”

You’re supposed to feel relieved, to have the weight lifted off your shoulders, but instead, a sense of doubt and suspicion creeps in. Why didn’t the Crimson Fox steal it? Was stealing it even his intention in the first place? And how did the director board know the exact location of the artifact inside the warehouse? Their voices of celebration are hollow in your ears. You speak up, your tone devoid of enthusiasm, lacking its usual professionalism.

“Was it worth it?”

The directors turn to you, confusion etched on their faces. “What do you mean?” Director Kang asks.

“Was it worth sacrificing the lives of our agents for an artifact?” Your words hang in the air, heavy with accusation. You’re not only targeting them but also yourself—your recklessness, your selfishness.

Director Kang chuckles awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood. “This is exactly what agents are for. They take risks for justice, for the greater good.”

“They didn’t want to nearly die, though, did they?” you retort, your eyes fixed on the table. Not because you’re afraid of meeting their gaze, but because you don’t want to see your reflection in their eyes—the reflection of a fool, of failure. “You know the risks imposed by the Crimson Fox, I know them—but those agents you sent? They didn’t. They didn’t risk their lives for justice; you put their lives on the line without letting them know what they were getting into beforehand. You said it yourself—I’m the only person capable of handling this mission. And yet you sent them anyway.”

Director Han brushes you off, her tone dismissive. “I don’t quite understand why you’re being so emotional. This is unlikely coming from you, Agent. If you’re so concerned about them, then why didn’t you do your best to protect them? They wouldn’t have been wounded if you just taught yourself to be less selfish and reckless, no? Quit the emotional turmoil. The compass is now in our hands, and that’s the only thing that matters. You’re dismissed.”

The finality in her words stings. You rise from your seat, feeling the weight of their gazes on your back as you turn to leave the room. The doubts and guilt gnaw at you, refusing to let go. You know that while the compass may be secured, the cost was too high. Director Liu calls out your name before adding, “Given the circumstances, it’s highly unlikely that the Crimson Fox will strike again anytime soon. For now, the mission will be put on hold.”

You nod, absorbing their words. But the relief they seem to feel only deepens your inner turmoil. Dismissed, you walk out of the meeting room, your steps heavy with guilt. As you walk through the halls of the headquarters, you pass by the infirmary. Through the transparent doors, you see all of your fellow agents who were with you on the mission, lying on hospital beds, their injuries a stark reminder of the night’s failure. A tear slips down your cheek as you tear your gaze away and continue walking.

This was exactly your biggest fear. You didn’t mind being sent on dangerous missions, didn’t mind losing a limb for what it was worth, didn’t mind dying by the hands of a criminal—but inflicting harm on your colleagues because of your rash decisions was something that would always haunt you. They were hurt, not just because of the Crimson Fox, but because of you.

You weren’t a fool to trust them, but you were a fool to not foresee the consequences of your orders. Agents send concerned looks your way as you pass through the hall, but you use every fiber in your body to try to ignore them. Passing by the lounge, you catch sight of Yeosang. Just as he’s about to approach you, you quicken your steps to the elevator leading out of the headquarters.

Each step on your way home feels dreadful. Once you finally arrive home, you can’t even muster the strength to go to your bedroom. The moment you close your house’s door, you press your back against it, sliding down as sobs wrack your body. You cry endlessly, not even allowing yourself a moment to breathe. The guilt, the doubt, the haunting images of your fallen comrades—all of it overwhelms you, leaving you feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

Were you truly good enough for this? Was tonight really as much of a success as the directors were making it out to be? Was not having to be on the scene for about a week really something to celebrate? Sure, they shouldn’t have sent those agents to begin with, but you should’ve thought more rationally, too. The words the Crimson Fox spat rang endlessly in your mind.

“You think you’re fighting for justice, for the greater good. But what if the people you work for are hiding the truth from you? What if you’re just a pawn in their game? You see, they’re not as noble as you think. They have secrets, dark ones. And you’re blindly following their orders, thinking you’re making a difference. But are you?”

As you sit there, the implications of his words gnaw at you. What if the directors were hiding something? Their dismissive attitude towards your injured colleagues, their relentless pursuit of the seemingly insignificant artifact, and their lack of transparency—all of it began to form a troubling picture. The directors didn’t seem to care about your fellow agents that were wounded. They only cared about the artifact and the mission. The thought unsettled you, planting a seed of doubt in your mind about the true nature of the organization you were so dedicated to.

And then you remember what he said that hit you the most.

“You know, I was expecting more from you. I’ve heard so much about your skills, your dedication. But now that I see you like this... I’m disappointed.”

Disappointed.

Were you really worth holding your title if you couldn’t even catch a thief your level? Were you really as good as you were made out to be, or had you just never found your match all along—until now?

You begin to question everything. The confidence you once had in your abilities feels shattered. The Crimson Fox had not only outsmarted you but had also tainted you with a sense of doubt about the very organization you served. You wonder if you’ve been blind to the darker aspects of the agency, too focused on your missions to see the bigger picture. You sit there, questioning your place in all of this. Were you really making a difference, or were you, like he had said, just another pawn in a game you didn't fully understand?

—

The next few days were nothing short of dread for you. The library, once your sanctuary and source of normalcy in your chaotic life, now felt like a chore. Each book you shelved, each patron you assisted, only reminded you of the emptiness gnawing at your core. You tried to convince yourself that you were unaware of the reason, but deep down, you knew it all too well.

Wooyoung hadn’t visited the library since the night of the mission to stop the Crimson Fox from getting his hands on the compass—the night that started this numbness. His absence left a void, a missing puzzle piece in your life. You had always found solace in his presence, a beacon guiding you back to the right path when your mind was a storm. But now, in your time of need, he was nowhere to be found. Even now, as you assisted a patron in finding a book that suited their interests, your thoughts drifted to Wooyoung. Where was he? What was he doing? Why hadn’t he come to see you? Was he thinking about you, too? You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the patron gently tugging the sleeve of your blouse.

“Excuse me, miss. Could you tell me more about this book?” the patron asked, holding up a novel.

You blinked, bringing yourself back to the present. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, clearing your throat. You began explaining the book’s plot and themes, managing a weak smile as the patron thanked you and walked away. Left alone in the aisle, you found yourself staring blankly at the shelves, drowning in your thoughts. Time seemed to blur. You didn’t know how long you had been standing there until a familiar voice broke through your haze.

“Oh, there you are! I was wondering where you—” Wooyoung’s cheerful tone trailed off as he saw the expression on your face.

You turned to him, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He quickly closed the distance between you and entered the aisle you were standing in, his concern evident. “Hey, are you okay?”

His words were the final push, breaking down the fragile walls you had built around your emotions. Without a second thought, you let yourself fall into his arms, burying your face in his shoulder. The dam broke, and you sobbed uncontrollably, your body shaking with the force of your emotions.

Wooyoung held you tightly, his hand gently stroking your back. “It’s okay, it’s okay, alright?” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered spirit. “I’m here. Just let it out.”

The comfort of his embrace was overwhelming. You clung to him as if he were your lifeline, the tears flowing freely now. The pain, guilt, and doubt you had been holding back poured out in waves. He didn’t rush you or press for answers, simply standing there, offering silent support.

Wooyoung led you to a secluded area of the library, away from prying eyes. He found a quiet corner with a small table and sat you down, choosing to sit beside you instead of across. The soft, ambient light filtered through the high windows, casting gentle shadows around you both. His presence was comforting, a steady anchor in your turbulent sea of emotions.

Without a word, he began rubbing gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing. He seemed to instinctively know that you weren’t ready to talk, that you needed a moment to collect yourself. The library was silent except for the soft rustle of pages and distant whispers, providing a tranquil backdrop to your chaotic thoughts. You kept your eyes down on the table, focusing on the grain of the wood as you tried to steady your breathing.

After a while, when the storm of your emotions had calmed to a manageable level, you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Wooyoung blinked, clearly puzzled by your apology. “Hey, no, don’t say that. You have nothing to apologize for,” he said gently, but you waved him off before he could continue.

“I didn’t mean to just suddenly have an outburst like that,” you explained, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.

“It’s normal,” he reassured you, his tone soothing. “It’s okay to let it out. It happens to everyone.” He paused, gauging your reaction. When he saw that you weren’t ready to dwell on your breakdown any further, he quickly shifted the conversation, his next statement catching you off guard.

“I think roadman vampires would be pretty sick.”

The sudden statement startled you out of your melancholic state. You looked at him with an unreadable expression, as if he had just blurted out the most absurd combination of words to ever exist. “Sorry, what?” you asked, incredulous.

“I mean, think about it,” Wooyoung continued, undeterred. “Picture me this: you’re walking down the street, right? It’s dark, a bit sketchy. Suddenly, this roadman vampire rolls up on you, tracksuit and all, but instead of asking for drugs or some cash, he’s like, ‘Bruv, spare us a pint of your blood?’”

You stared at him, still trying to process the bizarre turn the conversation had taken. “Are you serious right now? What, like, ‘Oi mate, got any O negative?’”

"Yeah! And instead of carrying knives, they carry little blood bags strapped to their belts—and their hoodies have those fake vampire teeth printed on them. ‘Bloodsucker’ written in bold letters across their backs.”

You couldn’t help but be caught off guard. The mental image he painted was so ridiculous that you found yourself struggling to hold back a laugh. “No, seriously! Imagine the street lingo mixed with vampire lore. ‘I’ll suck ya blood, fam’ becomes their catchphrase.”

That did it. You broke into a short fit of laughter, struggling to keep your voice down in order not to disturb the other patrons. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but this time from amusement rather than sorrow.

“What do you think?” he urges, insistent on pushing further with his agenda.

“I think you’ve officially lost your mind,” you said between giggles, shaking your head. Silence engulfs both of you—a comfortable one at that, while Wooyoung seems to still be imagining the scenario of randomly stumbling upon a roadman vampire. Just then, three words came out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I missed you.”

The library around you seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with the weight of your admission. Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your confession. You hurriedly straightened up in your seat, trying to backtrack, your cheeks warming with embarrassment.

“I mean, it’s just, you know, you have this infectious enthusiasm and—”

“You did?” Wooyoung interrupted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and hope. “You missed me?”

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, searching for any sign of judgment or discomfort. There was none. Just a flicker of something warm and genuine in his eyes that made you feel oddly vulnerable. “I... I did,” you admitted quietly, unable to look away from him.

A smile slowly spread across Wooyoung's face, softening his features. “Well, tell you what, I missed you too,” he confessed, his voice gentle. “It felt strange not having you around.”

A rush of relief flooded through you, mingling with a hint of disbelief. You had expected awkwardness or perhaps a polite deflection, not this genuine reciprocation.

“You did? Like, really, really did?” you echoed his words, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of playful skepticism.

Wooyoung chuckled, his smile widening. “Yeah, I really, really did.”

His genuine response eased the tension between you, and you found yourself relaxing in his presence. The heaviness of the past few days seemed to lift slightly, replaced by a warmth you hadn’t felt in a while. “You know,” Wooyoung continued, his tone light but sincere, “you’re an amazing person. Strong, dedicated, caring. You might not always see yourself that way, but trust me when I say that’s how you look in my eyes.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected praise. “You think so?” You tilt your head.

“Know so.”

He then continued, “And, you know, if you ever need someone to distract you by reading the entire Hotel Transylvania script in roadman slang, I’m your guy.”

“You’re my guy?” you teased, unable to resist poking fun at Wooyoung's unintentional slip.

“I mean, um, you know, for when you’re going through a tough time or just want to hang out. Not in that way, or, like, I mean, if you—” Wooyoung stumbled over his words, cheeks flushing slightly.

You cut him off with a laugh. “I know what you mean, Woo. I was just messing around.” The nickname slipped out effortlessly, and you didn’t even notice it, but Wooyoung felt his heart skip a beat.

After your playful banter, you stood up, straightening the light crinkles on your blouse. Wooyoung looked at you curiously. “Where are you going?”

You smiled amusedly at him. “You know I’m the librarian here, right?”

Wooyoung chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, yeah, right.”

Before you could head back to your station at the registrar, you turned back to him. “Thanks for making me feel better, Wooyoung.”

As you started to walk away, Wooyoung stood up abruptly, catching up to you. “Wait.” He gently grabbed your wrist, and you turned to him with a surprised look. “Yeah?”

He stumbled over his words for a moment before blurting out, “I was thinking... maybe I could take you out to dinner tonight. Just to lift off the rest of your burdens and have a good time together. My treat.”

Silence fell between you for a couple of seconds, and Wooyoung appeared nervous, waiting for your response. You smiled at him, unable to resist teasing a little. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

The joke was meant to lighten the mood, but as Wooyoung shyly chuckled, your eyes widened in slight surprise. He was.

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“I’d love to, Woo,” you interrupted, your smile growing wider at the genuine delight on his face.

“Really? I mean, cool, cool. Yeah, cool,” Wooyoung tried to play it off casually, but his eyes betrayed his excitement.

You returned to the counter to continue your work, aware of Wooyoung stealing glances at you from his seat nearby. Each time your eyes met, he would quickly look away, making you chuckle softly to yourself.

When your shift finally ended, Wooyoung’s enthusiasm was almost palpable, though he tried to mask it with nonchalance. It was endearing to see how he eagerly offered to handle the closing duties. He started tidying up the library, insisting you just sit back and relax. He even took your bag, slinging it over his shoulder with a playful smile.

Once you were outside, as you locked the doors with your keys, Wooyoung reached up to pull down the metal shutter. You stopped him by gently holding his wrist. “I can handle it,” you said with a smile.

He looked at you, his eyes warm. “I know you can, but I want to help.”

Caught off guard by his sincerity, you let go of his wrist and watched as he effortlessly brought down the shutter. It was a simple gesture, but it made you feel cared for in a way you hadn’t expected. As the two of you walked down the quiet street, you couldn't help but ask, “So, where are you taking me?”

Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “That’s a surprise. Just trust me.”

You chuckled, deciding to play along. The comfortable silence that settled between you was filled with a sense of ease and familiarity. You took the opportunity to glance at him, noticing the effort he had put into his appearance tonight. He looked especially dashing, dressed in a black turtleneck and well-fitted pants, exuding a charm that was hard to ignore.

“So, this is why you’re all dressed up, huh?” you teased, a hint of a smile on your lips.

He looked slightly bashful but met your gaze with a grin. “Well, I had to make a good impression.”

You laughed, feeling a lightness in your chest that had been absent for days. The weight of your earlier troubles seemed to lift, if only for a moment, as you walked beside Wooyoung. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as you walked, you found yourself feeling increasingly at ease. Wooyoung kept the conversation light, sharing amusing stories and anecdotes from his recent trip. His animated storytelling and genuine enthusiasm made you smile and laugh, easing the lingering tension in your mind.

When you finally arrived at the restaurant, you were pleasantly surprised. It was a cozy, intimate place with a warm ambiance. Wooyoung held the door open for you, and you feel a sense of anticipation. As you and Wooyoung entered the cozy restaurant, a waiter greeted you both with a warm smile. “Ah, what a lovely couple! Please, follow me to your table,” he said, turning to lead you through the intimate setting before you had a chance to correct him.

The waiter led you to a table in a quiet corner, and you noted the reserved sign with a small, appreciative smile. Once seated across from each other, you looked at Wooyoung with playful skepticism. “So, you reserved a table for the lovely couple, huh?”

Wooyoung quickly waved his hands defensively. “I swear, I didn’t tell him we were a couple or anything like that!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, Woo. I’m just playing around.”

You both placed your orders, and as you waited for your food, the conversation naturally turned to his recent trip due to you asking him about it. While he was recalling fragments of moments from it, a particular memory appeared in his mind.

“Oh, you know, one day, we were painting this huge section and suddenly a storm rolled in. We had to scramble to cover everything and ended up drenched. We were laughing so hard by the end of it. It was a mess, but a fun one,” he said, his eyes twinkling with the memory. “It was pretty hilarious. We spent the next day fixing everything that got messed up, but it was worth it. The mural turned out amazing, and Yunho was really happy with it.”

“Sounds like you had a great time,” you said, feeling more relaxed as you listened to his stories.

“I really did! Enough about me, though,” Wooyoung said suddenly, leaning forward. “I want to know more about you.”

You blinked, a bit taken aback. “Huh?”

“You know so much about me, but I know almost nothing about you,” he pointed out, his expression earnest.

It struck you that he was right. “You... want to know more about... me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, smiling warmly.

You hesitated for a moment, considering how to navigate this without revealing too much. “Well, there’s not much to tell. I’ve always been more of a listener than a talker,” you began cautiously.

He tilted his head, encouraging you to continue. “Come on, there has to be something. Hobbies? Favorite books? Something you’ve always wanted to do?”

You began pondering, trying to gather your thoughts. “Well, let’s see... I guess I’ve always been a bit of a bookworm. I love getting lost in stories, exploring different worlds, and seeing life from different perspectives. That’s partly why I enjoy working at the library so much. It’s like being surrounded by endless possibilities.”

Wooyoung nodded, his eyes fixed on you with genuine interest. “I can totally see that. You always seem so at home there, like it’s your sanctuary.”

“It really is,” you agreed with a small smile. “I find comfort in its silence, the smell of books, and the sense of order. It’s a nice contrast to how chaotic life can get sometimes.”

“Do you have a favorite book?” Wooyoung asked, leaning in slightly.

You thought for a moment, a smile forming on your lips. “It’s hard to pick just one, but if I had to choose, it would probably be ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. I love the wit and intelligence of the characters, and the way the story critiques social norms.”

Wooyoung’s eyes lit up with interest. “That’s a great choice. I’ve heard a lot about it, but I’ve never actually read it. What do you like most about it?”

“It’s so many things,” you began, your excitement growing. “The main character, Elizabeth Bennet, is such a strong, independent woman, especially for her time. She’s smart, witty, and not afraid to speak her mind. And Mr. Darcy, well, he’s complex. At first, he seems arrogant and aloof, but as the story progresses, you see that he’s actually very kind and caring. Their dynamic is fascinating to me, and what I love most is their banter. The dialogue between them is so sharp and clever. They challenge each other, and through that, they grow as individuals. It’s not just a love story; it’s about personal growth and overcoming prejudices. Oh, not to mention, Elizabeth’s my favorite character from the book, too.”

Wooyoung pressed on further, his interest piqued. “What specifically draws you to her?”

“She’s such a remarkable character,” you said, your voice taking on a more reflective tone. “Elizabeth is not just intelligent and witty; she’s also incredibly perceptive and resilient. She navigates the rigid social structures of her time with a kind of grace and strength that’s really inspiring. She doesn’t let society dictate her choices, especially when it comes to marriage, which was a huge deal back then.”

Wooyoung nodded, clearly engrossed. “She sounds like someone worth admiring.”

“She really is,” you agreed. “What I find most compelling is her growth throughout the novel. She starts off with a lot of preconceived notions about people, particularly Darcy. But as the story progresses, she learns to look beyond her first impressions and recognizes her own faults and prejudices. It’s a humbling journey that makes her all the more relatable and admirable.”

“You see a lot of yourself in her, don’t you?” Wooyoung said, a gentle understanding in his eyes.

You paused, feeling a wave of vulnerability. “Yeah, I do. Elizabeth’s courage to speak her mind, her refusal to settle for anything less than what she deserves, and her ability to learn and grow from her mistakes... it all resonates with me deeply. I admire her character so much, and sometimes, I try to channel a bit of her strength in my own life.”

Wooyoung’s smile was warm and encouraging. “I think you’ve got a lot of that strength already. It’s clear just from talking to you.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling a rush of gratitude. “It’s nice to talk about these things with someone who genuinely listens.”

“I’m really glad you shared that with me,” he said softly. “I can see why Elizabeth Bennet is your favorite. You’re really passionate about this book,” Wooyoung observed, his smile widening.

“I guess I am,” you admitted with a laugh. “I’ve read it so many times, and each time, I find something new to appreciate. Like how she subtly critiques the societal expectations placed on women, or how she portrays the complexity of human relationships. It’s brilliant.”

“Maybe I should give it a read sometime.” He stared above the ceiling and back into your eyes, a genuine haze wrapping itself around his eyes.

“You should,” you encouraged. “It’s more than just a romance novel. It’s a commentary on society, class, and the human condition. And it’s so well-written. Her use of irony and satire is masterful.”

“You’ve convinced me,” Wooyoung replied with a grin. “I’ll start reading that someday in the near future.”

“I think you’ll really enjoy it,” you said, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction. “And if you ever want to discuss it, I’m always here.”

“Deal,” he said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I’m looking forward to it.”

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself opening up more and more. Wooyoung’s genuine interest and warm presence made it easy to share parts of yourself you usually kept hidden. You talked about your love for music, your fondness for rainy days, and even your tendency to get lost in thought while daydreaming.

“You know, it’s really nice getting to know you like this,” Wooyoung said after a while. “You’re even more interesting than I already knew you were.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. “It’s nice getting to know you too.”

As the date continued, you found yourself increasingly caught up in Wooyoung’s stories and laughter. He regaled you with tales from his college days, his animated expressions and infectious enthusiasm pulling you into his world. The way his eyes lit up with each memory, turning into joyful crescents as he laughed, made it hard not to get lost in the moment.

It was beautiful—he was beautiful.

But amidst the warmth and ease, a nagging doubt then began to creep into your mind. Was it really wise to let your feelings for Wooyoung develop, knowing the secret life you led? You were a spy, a covert operative whose existence was built on deception and danger. The thought of letting someone in, of allowing yourself to grow close to another person while harboring such a monumental secret, seemed almost reckless. Would it be safe to live under the roof of a house built in lies, knowing it is bound to fall?

Your thoughts wandered to the precarious balance you maintained every day. Your life was a constant dance on the edge of peril, where one wrong move could lead to complete catastrophe. Could you really afford to bring someone into that world, to risk their safety and well-being? The rational part of your mind screamed that it was impossible, that a relationship built on lies and half-truths could never truly flourish.

Yet, as Wooyoung shared a particularly hilarious memory involving a college prank gone wrong, you found yourself laughing along with him, the sound echoing warmly between you. His genuine joy, the way he seemed to find light in every situation, was like a stark contrast to your troubled thoughts. For a moment, the weight of your life lifted, replaced by the simple pleasure of being with him.

You watched him closely, taking in the way his eyes sparkled, his mouth curving into a grin that seemed to light up the entire room with ease. In that instant, all your worries and doubts seemed to fade into the background. It was as if his laughter had the power to push away the shadows that constantly loomed over you. You’d spent so much of your life calculating risks, planning every move with meticulous care. But here, with Wooyoung, it felt different. It felt right to let your guard down, if only for a little while, and enjoy the moments of happiness he brought into your life.

For once, it felt right to be wrong.

As his laughter subsided and he took a sip of his drink, you found yourself smiling more genuinely than you had in a long time. There was something about him that made you want to take that leap, to embrace the uncertainty and see where it led. You could hear the voice of reason in the back of your mind, cautioning you against it, but your heart was pushing you to choose to ignore it. Maybe this path was fraught with risks and uncertainties, but you were willing to take the chance. For now, you would let yourself be swept up in the joy and warmth that Wooyoung brought into your life. And maybe if you search hard enough, you could find a way to balance the shadows and the light, the secrets and the truths, in a way that allows you to truly live.

—

For the next few days, your life began to take on a new rhythm. Mornings once filled with solitude were now punctuated by Wooyoung’s cheerful presence. Each day, he would visit the library, transforming what used to be a quiet, routine part of your life into something vibrant and new. You had always seen the library as your sanctuary, a place where you could retreat from the chaos you’re bound to. But now, it was becoming a place where you felt truly alive, thanks to Wooyoung. You spent hours together, sharing stories, laughter, and a growing sense of connection. You learned that his sense of humor was more playful than what he’d let you on, often surprising you with his quirky questions and offbeat observations. He seemed to take genuine joy in making you laugh, and you found yourself looking forward to his visits more and more. It was during one of these conversations that you had mentioned, almost offhandedly, that you often skipped breakfast. It was just a passing comment, a small detail about your hectic mornings, but Wooyoung had latched onto it with surprising earnestness.

The next day, he showed up with a warm breakfast sandwich and a coffee, setting them on your desk with a grin. “You can’t start your day on an empty stomach,” he had said, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and concern. It became a ritual after that, his daily offerings of breakfast a tangible reminder of his thoughtfulness. Over time, the simple gesture began to chip away at the walls you had built around yourself. You found yourself growing softer, more open, and warmer towards him, as if the barriers you had erected to protect yourself were finally starting to crumble.

As the days passed, you discovered more facets of Wooyoung’s personality. He had a quiet depth to him, a sensitivity that contrasted with his often boisterous demeanor. He spoke about his passions, his dreams, and his past with a sincerity that was both endearing and disarming. You found yourself sharing more about your own life, albeit carefully avoiding any details about your work as a secret agent. Still, in the moments you spent together, you felt a connection that was both profound and unsettling. You knew that you were treading dangerous ground, allowing yourself to care for someone when your life was so precariously balanced.

But then, reality intruded. The brief respite you had enjoyed came to an abrupt end as you found yourself back in the headquarters, in the sterile, impersonal confines of the meeting room. The transition from the warmth of Wooyoung's company to the cold efficiency of your workplace was jarring. Director Han greeted you with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, her tone deceptively casual as she welcomed you back.

“Did you spend your break time to its fullest?” she asked, her voice smooth and untroubled. It was ironic, almost infuriating, that she could speak to you so casually after the way she had dismissed the well-being of your fellow agents weeks ago. Her apparent indifference to their suffering had been a bitter pill to swallow, but you had learned not to expect anything different from the director board. You forced a positive response, careful not to reveal the real reason your break had been enjoyable.

“I did,” you replied, keeping your voice steady and professional.

“Good,” she continued. “Because from now on, no distractions shall be allowed to enter your line of sight.”

You narrowed your eyes, sensing the gravity of what was to come. “Why is that?” Your eyebrows furrowed lightly.

Director Liu stepped forward, her expression grim. “The Crimson Fox has his eyes on a new artifact,” she said, her voice laden with significance. “And this mystical property is of utmost importance. Its value surpasses anything he has targeted before.”

You crossed your arms, skepticism evident in your posture. “Mystical properties? Are we basing our mission on legends now?” you began, your voice rising with incredulity. “Forgive me, Director, but you have to admit, this sounds like a wild goose chase. First, it’s an old painting, then a compass, and now this? Why are we placing such high value on what seem to be random artifacts?”

Director Liu’s expression remained stoic, but you pressed on. “You’re coming off as suspiciously secretive. There’s a lack of transparency here, and I’m not comfortable with it. If there’s something about this artifact that’s critical, I need to know. Otherwise, I can’t accept this mission.”

The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. The directors exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Director Kang spoke up, his tone conciliatory.

“The artifact in question is not just a relic. It’s a key component in a much larger puzzle, one that we’ve been trying to piece together for years. Its significance lies not only in its historical value but in its potential to unlock other, more powerful artifacts.”

You considered his words, your mind racing. “And you expect the Crimson Fox to know this? To understand its true value?”

Director Han nodded. “He’s always been one step ahead, understanding the deeper connections between these items. We believe he has access to information that we do not.”

You sighed, the pieces slowly falling into place. “Alright, but if you want me to risk my life for this, I need full disclosure. No more secrets.”

Director Liu’s eyes softened slightly. “You have our word. We’ll provide you with all the information we have.”

With that assurance, you shifted gears. “What are the risks involved in this mission?”

Director Kang’s expression grew serious. “The risks are considerable. The artifact is being kept in a high-security facility with state-of-the-art defenses. But the Crimson Fox has proven time and again that he can circumvent such measures. There’s also the risk of collateral damage. We can’t afford another incident like the last mission.”

You nodded, the memory of the previous mission's failure still fresh. “And you’re not planning on accompanying me with other agents again, are you? You know what happened last time.”

Director Han shook her head. “No. This time, you’ll be going alone. We can’t risk another failure.”

You hummed in thought. Well, at least they’re aware of the damage they caused. “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him.”

Director Han’s smile was approving. “That’s the spirit we need. Now, let’s discuss the specifics.” Then, they began to outline the details of the operation, and you listened intently, asking pointed questions and clarifying key points.

“The artifact is housed in the Armitage Museum,” Director Kang started. “It’s a high-security facility with several layers of defense. Surveillance cameras, motion detectors, laser grids, and a rotating guard schedule.”

You leaned forward, absorbing the information. “What about the artifact’s location within the museum? Is it in a display case or a secured vault?”

“It’s in a secured vault in the basement,” Director Liu replied. “The vault itself has a biometric lock system, requiring both fingerprint and retinal scans.”

“Whose biometrics?” you asked, your mind already working on possible infiltration methods. “The museum director and head of security,” Director Han answered. “We have gathered some intel on their schedules, but gaining access to them will be tricky.”

“How exactly do you expect me to bypass all these security measures?” you questioned, your tone sharp. “And what about backup plans in case things go south?”

“We have a tech team working on a device to temporarily disable the security systems,” Director Kang said. “It will give you a window of approximately ten minutes to get in and out. As for backup plans, a secondary team will be on standby outside the museum, ready to intervene if necessary.”

You frowned. “Ten minutes isn’t much time. What if the Crimson Fox has already infiltrated the museum by then?”

“That’s a risk we have to take,” Director Liu admitted. “But our intel suggests he hasn’t made his move yet. He seems to be waiting for the right moment.”

“And you believe that moment is imminent?” you pressed, wanting to be sure.

Director Han nodded. “All signs point to it. We can’t afford to wait any longer.”

You took a deep breath, considering the gravity of the situation. “What about the museum’s guard schedule? Any gaps or vulnerabilities?”

Director Kang pulled up a digital layout of the museum, highlighting key areas. “The guards rotate every four hours. The weakest point is during the shift change, which happens at 2 AM. There’s a brief period of about ten minutes where the new shift is settling in and the old shift is wrapping up.”

You nodded, making mental notes. “So, we time our infiltration during the shift change. What about the museum director and head of security? Are they on-site during that time?”

“The head of security is on-site, but the museum director leaves around midnight,” Director Liu said. “We’ll need to find a way to access the director’s biometric data before he leaves.”

You pursed your lips, nodding slowly. “Alright. What about the Crimson Fox? Any recent intel on his whereabouts or movements?”

“We believe he’s been laying low, preparing for this heist," Director Liu replied. "But we have no concrete information on his exact location.”

“Great,” you muttered to yourself sarcastically. “So, we’re going in blind, hoping he doesn’t show up at the worst possible moment.”

“It’s a calculated risk,” Director Kang said, his tone firm. “But we have confidence in your abilities.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. ��I’ll do it. But if things go sideways, I’m not taking the fall for this.”

“Understood,” Director Han said. “We’ll provide you with all the support you need." The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the upcoming mission settling over you. Despite the tension, you felt a familiar sense of determination. You had faced dangerous missions before, and you would face this one with the same resolve. As the meeting concluded, you gathered your materials and prepared to leave. The mission would take place tomorrow night, giving you just enough time to make the necessary preparations. You knew the risks were high, but you also knew that you were the best person for the job.

The day of the mission came quicker than you had expected, and today, you decided to spend your entire day in the headquarters training room. It had been a while since your last appearance on the scene, and you didn’t want to get too comfortable—especially not now, with Wooyoung unknowingly making you softer. As you warmed up, your muscles responded with a familiar ease, the rhythm of your movements a comforting reminder of the life you had chosen. This was your world, where precision and control reigned supreme. You moved to the climbing rig, scaling its heights with practiced agility. But then, unexpectedly, your hand slipped on a rung, and you plummeted to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. The impact jolted through you, making you hiss in pain. It was unfamiliar—usually, you never messed up like this.

Gritting your teeth, you pushed yourself back up. You couldn't afford to falter now, not with such a critical mission looming. But as you continued your training, your mind kept drifting to Wooyoung. His smile, his laugh, the way he looked at you with those bright, sincere eyes. You wondered, if you hadn't been dragged into the world of espionage, would you have been able to live a normal life with him? Would you have met him under different circumstances, where you were just a normal librarian without any lies to cover up? Would you be sitting across from him at a café, holding his hand instead of a training handlebar? In another reality, would your days be filled with mundane joys and quiet moments, rather than the constant threat of danger and deceit?

You tried to shake it off, but the questions persisted, echoing through your mind. Each time you lost focus, your balance wavered, and frustration mounted. You kicked the wall in anger, the sound reverberating through the empty training room. Sinking to the ground, you ran your hands through your hair, feeling the weight of your double life pressing down on you.

You got too carried away.

The line between your professional life and your personal desires blurred, leaving you vulnerable in a way you hadn’t anticipated. The stakes were too high for distractions, but the more you tried to push thoughts of Wooyoung aside, the more insistent they became. What would it be like to wake up each day without the looming specter of danger? To simply enjoy a quiet breakfast with him, without the burden of secrets hanging over your head? You imagined lazy Sunday mornings, his arm draped over your shoulders as you both laughed at something trivial on TV. The normalcy of it all seemed almost unattainable, a distant dream compared to the harsh reality you faced.

Your training session deteriorated into a series of missteps and missed cues. Each failure added to your frustration, culminating in a moment of sheer exasperation. You kicked the wall again, harder this time, before collapsing against it, breathing heavily. The training room, once a place of focus and discipline, now felt suffocating. You let your thoughts wander freely, for just a moment longer. Perhaps in a different life, Wooyoung would be waiting for you at home, a comforting presence after a long day. Maybe you would have shared stories about your days, him talking about his friends and his life, while you shared anecdotes from the library. The mundane yet beautiful simplicity of it all was both a solace and a torment.

But this was your reality. You were a secret agent, and tonight, you had a mission to complete. The risks were too great, and the stakes too high, to indulge in fantasies of what could have been. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the ground, determination hardening your resolve. You couldn’t afford to let your emotions get the best of you. Not now. Not when the Crimson Fox was still out there, waiting for the right moment to strike. You had a job to do, and no matter how much you wished for a different life, this was the path you had chosen.

Standing up, you squared your shoulders and resumed your training with renewed focus. The thoughts of Wooyoung lingered, but you forced them to the back of your mind. There would be time to sort through your feelings later. For now, you needed to be at your best. The hours ticked by, each one bringing you closer to the mission.

After concluding your training session, you decide to make a quick stop at the bathroom to wash your face and clean yourself up. The training session had left you sweaty and disheveled, and you needed a moment to compose yourself. As you walk down the corridor, you pass by the storage room where they kept broken training equipment. The door is slightly ajar, and you catch the sound of hushed whispers. Curiosity piqued, you slow your pace, straining to hear the conversation. One voice is male, the other female, both speaking in low tones that suggest secrecy.

“Are you sure this is the right time for it?” the male voice asks, sounding nervous.

“We don’t have a choice,” the female voice replies, more assertive. “Everything’s in place. We need to act before it’s too late.”

“But what if someone finds out? The consequences—”

“Keep your voice down,” she hisses. “No one can know. Especially not her.” Your heart skips a beat. Who were they talking about? And what was this plan they were so secretive about? Your mind races with possibilities, but you know better than to jump to conclusions without more information.

Just then, you hear footsteps approaching from a distance. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, you quickly move away from the storage room and head to the bathroom. Once inside, you lean against the sink, letting the cold water wash over your face as you process what you just heard. Why were they talking about that? What could they be planning? And who were they referring to when they said “her”? You know the headquarters well enough to recognize that not everyone can be trusted, but this conversation feels particularly sinister.

As you dry your face, your thoughts swirl with suspicion. You couldn't afford to ignore this. But confronting them directly without evidence could jeopardize everything. You needed to tread carefully and keep an eye out for any further signs of shady activity. Finishing up, you take a deep breath and straighten your posture. With your mind now sharpened by both the day’s training and this unexpected encounter, you make your way to the briefing room, ready to face the mission ahead. But in the back of your mind, the conversation lingers, a shadow that you can't shake off—yet you force them into the back of your mind, as there’s a mission to be done, and distractions could be fatal. The director board goes over their initial plan, and you sense they are putting more effort into this than the last few attempts to capture the Crimson Fox.

You arrive at the museum entrance, immediately checking the security cameras by the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you saw that all of them were broken, yet the sight inside the museum was what surprised you even more. The security guards were all lying unconscious on the floor, every security system is disabled, and the lights were off. The only illumination comes from the dim glow of the moon passing through the windows. You move cautiously, noting that every guard and system is down, which is unprecedented.

When you reach the large room housing the vault where the artifact is kept, you’re surprised to find the vault open, yet the artifact is still inside. You take your first step towards it when you sense a presence above. You quickly turn and grab the foot aiming for your face before it can make contact.

“Agent,” he starts, his voice smooth and mocking. “How nice to see you again.”

“You seem to have gone through a lot of trouble to get here tonight,” you note, glancing at the unconscious guards. “What’s your endgame?”

The Crimson Fox chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “My endgame? I think you already know. But the real question is, what’s yours?”

“Saving the artifact from your hands,” you retort, tightening your grip on his foot before releasing it, forcing him to backflip away from you.

He lands gracefully, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “And why do you care so much about this artifact? Do you even know what it truly is?”

“I know it’s important to the organization,” you reply, keeping your voice firm. “Important to the organization,” he echoes, a hint of derision in his tone. “But why? Have you ever asked yourself that? Why would they value something that, to everyone else, seems insignificant?”

You hesitate, and he catches it. “You’re starting to wonder, aren’t you?” he continues, stepping closer. “Starting to see the cracks in the façade. Tell me, why would they go to such lengths to protect this? What are they hiding?”

His words leave you pondering, but you refuse to show it. “You talk a lot for someone who’s about to lose.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, his tone almost playful. “But deep down, you know I’m right. You’ve seen enough to question them. To doubt.”

“Why do you care what I think?” you taunt, genuinely curious now. “Why are you trying so hard to make me doubt them?”

“Because,” he says, his voice softening just a fraction yet still deceiving, “I see potential in you. It’s just… misdirected.”

His words make you pause. “You don’t know me.”

“Maybe not,” he admits. “But I know enough. And I know you’re not blind. You can see the truth if you look hard enough.”

“And what truth is that?” you challenge, your heart pounding. He smiles, but it’s devoid of positivity. He then responds, “That’s for you to find out. But first, you have to want to know.”

“Do you?”

His question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. You’re at a crossroads, and you know it. The choice you make now could change everything. You stare at him, your mind racing. He’s given you a choice, a chance to see things differently. And for the first time, you’re not sure which path to take.

The fight then begins, and unlike the other battles you had with him that were more reckless, more about testing which of you was more skilled, this one felt different. There was an intensity, but also a strange harmony to your movements. Each strike, each block, each dodge—everything flowed seamlessly as if you were engaged in a violent dance, perfectly in sync.

It was a depiction of brutal beauty, a choreography of combat. Every step was calculated, every move met with a precise counter. The sound of your bodies colliding, the whisper of fabric, the heavy breaths—it all combined into a symphony of motion and energy. It was as if time slowed down, the world narrowing to just the two of you, locked in a battle that was as much about understanding as it was about defeating.

He lunged at you with a swift kick, and you dodged with a grace that matched his own, retaliating with a high kick that he barely managed to block. You spun, he ducked, you struck again, he parried. The fight was a dance where your movements entwined in a deadly ballet. There were no words exchanged, just the raw, primal communication of bodies in motion, testing each other’s limits.

Finally, you saw an opening. With a swift move, you caught him off guard, pinning him to the ground on his back. Knees on either side of his torso, you held both of his arms above his head with one hand, the other drawing a dagger from your pocket. You used it to lift up his mask and remove it.

The sight that met you filled you with utmost shock and a mixture of everything all at once.

“Wooyoung...?”

🪞— lividstar.

[cheriewony]

boo, you whore — huh yunjin

genre; smut, smut with plot

pairing; mean girl!yunjin x fem!reader

warnings; mean yunjin, degredation, size kink, strapon use, cunnilingus, face sitting, voyeurism, mentions of filming

note; this is a repost from my old blog (cheriejen) i honestly loved writing this request, want jen to call me a whore and rail me senseless ♡ - would you guys like a pt 2? i was thinking of doing a foursome with the plastics-

minors ++ men, dni

huh yunjin seemed to have spawned her wretched way into this world with a silver spoon in her mouth, wearing perilously tall jimmy choos and a matching pink birkin. this hadn't changed much in university. you had thought that after the horrid interactions the two of you had had back in high school, university was going to be a fresh start.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

whilst yunjin's friends-since-birth miyawaki sakura and kim chaewon were studying elsewhere, she had been able to make a new trio of plastics quickly enough. yu jimin had been connected to yunjin's hip since she had stepped onto campus. she was the life of the party- organising mixers, socials and parties like this very halloween one. jang wonyoung, a fashion major and the titled prettiest girl on campus, had been an obvious choice as the final piece in the highly-respected trio.

just like she had cornered you in the cafeteria in her short little tennis skirts in high school, here she was, in a short pink slip dress that was hardly covering her hot pink lingerie, her glittery lip gloss smudged from an intense makeout session she'd just had with the captain of the university football team. oh, and the bunny ears that had been propped onto her college-blonde hair, almost like an afterthought.

you had learnt that college halloween parties were an excuse to dress slutty the hard way- after showing up, fake blood, teeth and warts as frankenstein's wife to your first halloween party in your freshman year. today, you were wearing the same veil you had to your first party, instead paired with a white front-tie corset, the shortest skirt in your closet and a wash of dewy tint on your lips.

yunjin's lip curled into that smirk she always had in front of you. despite years of witnessing her lip curl in that manner, you still couldn't really understand what it meant. disgust? irritation? amusement?

"who would've thought a little suck up like you would be at one of my parties?"

you hesitated to correct her. this technically wasn't her party- after all, it had been karina who had thrown the party. your lips remained shut; any party huh yunjin actually showed up too soon became her party.

your hesitation was interrupted by yunjin's perfectly manicured hand fastening around your wrist. she ends up tugging you along with one hand, the other hand sneaking another small tray of filled red solo cups on it, continuing to weave neatly through the throngs of drunken young adults before pushing you into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door behind you two.

she can only smile over at your flushed face, how your lips had pursed into pants after clumsily rushing into the bathroom behind her. yunjin props herself onto the bathroom counter top, draining one of the solo cups in one, squealing aloud once she finished.

"actually grew yourself some tits, huh?" she questions, that cheshire-cat grin still tugging at her lips. she steps forward to tug the bow holding the from of your top together loose.

part of you instinctively shielded your now bare skin, cheeks stained red as yunjin chuckled over at you.

"no bra? what a slut."

your cheeks could only get warmer at her words as she pushed you to settle onto the bathroom counter, moving to stand between your legs, lifting your skirt up to get a view of the lacy pink panties you were wearing. she smirked at the sticky patch that was beginning to form between your legs.

"what a fucking whore."

the next view was something you never expected; huh yunjin, propped on her knees as she pushed your panties aside and began to lap at your dripping cunt, playboy bunny ears askew on her halo of blonde hair.

your were obsessed with her. anyone would be with how her tongue teased your clit, drawing long licks against your sweet pussy. all you could do was moan, tugging at wads of blonde hair to force you closer, only causing her to bite at your inner thighs.

"do you know how much that stylist cost me? don't you fucking dare."

so you don't, your hands fiddling with your tits instead, rubbing the nub of your nipple to make your eyes roll, tongue propped out of your mouth as yunjin continued to lap at your pretty pussy. as soon as your legs begin to roll alongside her licks, she pulls away, lips shining with your wetness.

"it's that easy to get you to cum? fucking slut, bet you've thought about this for so long? what a creep-"

she moves to the side, removing her own clothes, only revealing more perfect curves. she was venus and you were under her spell as she moved out of view to put something on. by the time she arrived back in front of you, you were salivating. the strap on was huge. and glittery pink. obvi.

you immediately drop to your knees, eager to lap and suck at the tip of the dildo but yunjin only scoffs in disgust.

"i don't want your foul mouth anywhere near this. lie down."

and you did. she forces you to lay down as she aligns the pink dildo with your entrance, lubing it down with your own wetness. she slowly pushes in, the two of your moans sync. her hands find purchase on your hips before moving faster, ignoring any of your whines or demands.

"listen here bitch. i make the rules here. all i want to hear from you are those dirty little moans-"

your eyes become glassy, almost doll-like as she does as she pleases, grunting almost animalistically as her thrusts get more incoherent and shaky, your gummy walls tightening around her.

"f-fuck- keep taking me, don't make me stop-"

your whines are pornographic at this point, making your own hips move alongside her thrusts, your thumb teasing your clit as you reach your high. as if a puppeteer had dropped your strings, you collapse onto yunjin, hands gripping past her tits to rest on her shoulders.

yunjin groans in disgust, pushing your weak frame flat onto the counter before taking out her phone, beginning to film your twitching self, your pussy still quivering around her pink cock. you try to cover your face, which clearly doesn't please yunjin one bit. she pulls out in frustration, and grabs her stuff before glaring at you.

"boo, you whore."

@ cheriewony © 2024 | do not copy, repost or translate without the permission of the author

[bonny-kookoo]

The Library. 📚

Here is where you can find all Oneshots and Series' considered finished. While some of these might receive some minor updates, the main story of these works has been completed.

Some of these works have masterlists and do receive occasional updates, but can be read as a completed story if on this list!

Stories that are marked as about to be finished are only one major update away from concluding.

This list will be updated regularly, and reblogged if something has changed!

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──💗── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

📘= Oneshot || 📚= Series || 📖 = About to be finished

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

📚 Good Girl [Jungkook x Reader, non-Idol AU]

This story's plot has been finished for quite some time now- so there's not much to say here. It was my first major series and my main 'breakthrough' into story writing, and while I have mixed feelings about it, I still have a fond feeling for it.

📚 Alcoria [Alien!Jungkook x Human!Reader]

While this story was meant to take a different route at some point, it is basically finished, and will really only receive minor updates in the future, if any at all. My first Alien-story, and it shows haha.

📘 All Smut-Shots [NSFW-Oneshots]

All of these stories are Oneshots and can be enjoyed all by themselves. The main plot is finished for all of them.

📚 Evocation [Dragon!Jungkook x Dragon!Reader]

Dragon fic set in a modern fantasy AU. Finished, will occasionally receive drabbles, if requested, but nothing major anymore.

📚 Lock Me Up [Detective!Yoongi x Cat hybrid!Reader]

This story's main plot has been concluded. Some minor drabbles might be written, but nothing groundbreaking.

📘 Night Vision [Alien!Jungkook x Human!Reader]

The first main part can entirely be enjoyed on it's own without missing any major things. Drabbles might still be added to add more context, but the main story is complete.

📚 Dearly Beloved [Soft Yandere!Jungkook x Reader]

In which you've got a crush on your coworker- and a stalker problem.

📘 (Oh My) Bunny-Baby [Bunny!Jungkook x Bunny!Reader]

In which Jungkook had long lost hope to find someone sweet as you.

📚 Unstable [Alien!Jungkook x Reader]

Wrong place, wrong time, right person.

📘 Intrinsic [Alien!Jungkook x Reader]

In which you were just supposed to help integrate him.

📚 Timestamps Drabbles

Time inspired drabbles.

📘 Cherry Candy [tattoo artist!Jungkook x Reader]

In which he wants more than just a taste.

📘/📚 Finish Line [Racer!Jungkook x Reader]

In which Jungkook always kisses you twice, because once is never enough.

📚 Stereotypes [Omega!Jungkook x Omega!Reader]

In which Stereotypes aren't always true.

📚 Moonlit [Wolf!Jungkook x Wolf!Reader]

In which you hate alphas, but Jungkook might be different.

📚 Lacrymaria Olor [Alien!Jungkook x Reader]

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

In which you catch the eye of the Alien King himself.

📚 Take Care [Doctor!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader]

In which saves you in more ways than one.

Additional Oneshots can be found in my Old Masterlist. The Link can be found in my pinned post. This list will receive regular updates, so please check in at a later date to find more content.

[s1llydr3amscape]

Day 5 : Canon Divergence @vanweek2024

Finally talking abt one of my fnaf AU's !!! I try to keep it brief but I cannot simplify for the life off me so yeah have some yapping!! Lots of major stuff and in-between events are not in here but that's what asks are for :] This one is pretty long so buckle up cuz here we go!!!

This au is basically just me taking the fnaf characters and putting them in my oc world!! It started ever since the first FNAF game came out but this story plot started out with Glitchtrap and a few other characters working at an office and shenanigans ensue. When in reality it's a setup because they actually end up killing people and selling off their flesh and pretending that it's organic meat in the market (Like mlp cupcakes + rainbow factory because those were pivotal to my development)

Vanny and all the other workers in a way where technically revived by Glitchtrap as rabbits (Or was already rabbits) making them indebted to Glitchtrap. They can't leave, they have to obey him. Reasons for Glitchtrap needing and starting this business venture is because he needs blood to keep this body I mean his new body alive (Me explaining why they'd have stitching) Because originally Glitchtrap was an entity who took the body of a deceased yellow rabbit and fixed it up enough (like in fnaf sl but this time he just found a fresh corpse) It's rotting the body is failing at this rate, he's going to decay way too fast and he wants to live. (Turning into the black goop like in princess quest)

He paraded as this joyful figure but that's far from the truth obviously. Originally before fnaf sb the body he stole was the father of my own blonde rabbit oc who was dead set on stopping Glitchtrap to let his father's body lay to rest. Even though his father was cruel and left him and his brothers alone, that's the least he can do. He chose to free his body from being mangled worse than it already is because he's a good person I mean better than his father ever was. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it more for himself sometimes.

However, since fnaf sb came out and the movie. I feel like Vanny fits this role better. So yeah to recap Vanny's dad died and Glitchtrap stole his body and made it his own. Vanny knows this later on but she too died in the same vain. Hence, why she ends up having her soul indebted to Glitch as well being the first few workers under him.

At first, she thought she was in hell she's supposed to be dead but she's not and her dad is still here? And he's still the same as ever yet something's not right. He just seems to be acting strange yet it's all too familiar for her.

Vanny ended up posing as a security guard for this residential area. She was tasked to basically infiltrate and blend in so that Glitchtrap had a new source of produce you could say Yet, even after all this Vanny still ended up befriending the Glamrocks. They cared and comforted her even after she wouldn't tell them her sorrows. They were real friends in a way. 

They're nice. In a way.

It felt nice to have friends after moving from area to area to avoid suspicion and ended up making friends. Yet Glitchtrap took this as a sign that she did this for him. Everything she did for herself is for him after all right. Lowering their suspicion on her by being friendly and outgoing, she’s thinking ahead for him. What a good daughter. Making them easier targets if someone were to ever happen to one of these lovely residents. They wouldn't question Vanny now would they! She's just their friendly neighborhood bunny

Her first target was Glamrock Bonnie. It was swift and quick but he put up a fight. Managing to damage one of Vanny’s eyes. The others don't know what happened as the camera feed was seemingly coincidentally cut. Vanny almost didn't make it out and had to leave the body there dead, managing to hide the evidence that she even laid a hand on him. Making it seem like he had fallen down the stairs after a robber tried to mug him. During his funeral, Vanny couldn't even be bothered to look down as he was getting buried. She stood there staring.

She did this.

She was being used as a trojan horse by Glitchtrap to get his supply. She still befriended the others. She shared moments of joy and laughter with them and yet she couldn't help but stare as he was lowered. Glamrock Freddy came to her and cried. This bustling hunk of sunshine weeped at her mercy. She tried comforting him but it left her bittersweet knowing she did this to someone who was nice to her. You’d think she’d be numb at this point but she’s not. 

She never was.

She ended up trying to push them away as the months began to pass. No longer making rounds when she knew they were at home. Deliberately avoiding going to social events and basically just trying to get this job done with. Even when she was doing her rounds and caught sight of the others she answered them rudely or just told them that she was too busy for dilly-dallying.

Roxy tried offering to give her a ride on her bike when she did her rounds but Vanny declined. Chica tried inviting her for lunch but Vanny declined. Freddy tried inviting her over for karaoke but Vanny. Even Monty tried inviting her over to play golf but Vanny declined. 

She's trying to make them hate her. She can't let her dad take them away from her too. She can't. Never again. So she's trying desperately to get them off of his scope so that they wouldn't end up as one of her victims packaged for eating. 

As long as they hate her as long as they don't want anything to do with her they'd be safe. They have to. They don’t need her.

It ended up working for a bit. But Glitchtrap is never satisfied. He never is. Suddenly neighbor after neighbor ended up mysteriously disappearing from this apartment complex. It was more common to see people move in than out and it was happening rapidly.

The residents have asked their landlord for higher security or that they'd move out as even families started going missing. Yet nothing changed. Not a peep gets out here. 

Until one day, Vanny was tasked to kill Freddy. A test by Glitchtrap and she couldn't do it. She tried begging for it to be someone else, anyone but her friend but he didn't like that his worker was testing his patience and took over.

There in the dead of night Vanny broke into Freddy's home. It was a sloppy job. Yet she strutted along. Holding onto the knife with such vigor. Just when she opened the door to his bedroom and tried to take the plunge. She slashed at a child's cheek.

What?

And in that brief moment Vanny regained control and had to face her bearings getting a migraine by the possession by Glitchtrap. She didn't know what was happening until it was too late and the kid fled outside. 

Great.

Basically fnaf sb happened but Freddy was at the pharmacy buying meds leaving Gregory (rabbit) home alone for a few minutes. Vanny, being puppeteered at the time by Glitchtrap, broke in intent on killing Freddy but ended up getting Gregory. Vanny and Glitchtrap didn't and doesn't know Gregory was there or who he was. This was because when Vanny tried to cut off the glamrocks Freddy ended up adopting this kid he found. Hence, why neither party seemed to know about the other because it was quite literally very recent. 

But yeah gist off the AU for now!!! Some parts are being rewritten and whatnot with the ruin DLC and book stuff but yeah!!! Short intro of the AU!!!

Headcanons / Lore :

-Vanny was blonde but ever since her resurrection her furs been turning white unknown if it's because she's technically undead or from stress (I like to think like from blonde bunny with green eyes into those white rabbits with red eyes)

-The workers are some canon fnaf characters and ocs

-Glitchtrap can't mind control Vanny all the time cuz he has other workers he needs to monitor and control, basically spanning a wide network. So he uses fear mongering tactics to get her to obey while he's away.

-Glitchtrap needs the flesh because his body is rotting and he needs pieces constantly to replace it. He only went after rabbits at first but due to his rapid decaying (turning into Burntrap as the story progresses) he went after anything that breathed and lived. I can’t decide if at the end of the story he should turn into Mimic where he’s just a walking skeleton or if he should just permanently die like in the Burntrap ending

-Vanny when she came back had many bald patches on her body after being stitched apart. She's trying to grow out her fur to hide what happened. Just to regain her sense of self. Yet things never change and so she ends up shaving it all off becoming bald like in security breach :[

-She knows that's not her dad but she's still scared of him even though he's much more different than how he was before. Maybe it's the unconditional love of a daughter for her father. Or she doesn’t know what a good parental figure is.

-Glitchtrap originally looked like the black goop version from princess quest, always ever changing, never the same as a being born of malice and hatred. He wanted to be a person like everyone else instead of a blob to be free of it all to start anew but he can't. Unless he acquired a body.

-His workers are only alive after he modified them, giving them life again by giving a part of himself inside off them kinda like a soul contract. Permanent scars literally. (How the enemies in Princess Quest look like rabbit people)

-Workers get sent around areas with dense populations and well acquires inventory from there. Glitchtrap gets money selling the flesh claiming it to be from regular animals. With the money he uses it to keep his body intact and alive. This is to explain how he turns into Burntrap becoming green and nasty.

-Each worker is associated with a smell. Vanny is onion. Glitchtrap is lemongrass. If you look at the sketch Scraptrap’s is garlic. If you’re asking why I did this it is because I just think it’s funny.

-There's more but I feel like I've talked enough!! Currently doing more writing to add ruin into this and trying to do a 2024 redesign for this AU!!! Including Vanny I need to make her more nasty and rotten <33333 

-Also be warned I love bittersweet endings if you fancy this AU

Her stitching and pupils keep switching sides because I couldn't decide 😭 Too embarrassed to show everyone elses design because the start off the story is goofy and the tonal whiplash is killing me. Scraptrap and Glitchtrap cameo tho!!. never realised how squished I made the heads.

I removed the blood due to the fact because being grabbed at the back off your head by an abusive family member still just as scary I should know

[allmyhomieshatelawns]

Heyo I was seized by plot bunnies, so have a little DCXDP! Note, this IS heavily inspired by @phantomfen 's ao3 work https://archiveofourown.org/works/57152017

I highly recommend reading that, but this isn't connected, just inspired. This snippet is also inspired by the song "The Tale of The Shadow" by Sail North. I hope you enjoy!

This is Dead on Main because they're my favorite~

The Shadow:

The wooden boards groaned underneath my weight, as I paced in front of the boat I had purchased. I had finally done it. Bruce wasn't going to be happy, but when was he ever happy with what I did? I shook my head, straightening up as I heard several pairs of booted feet. Turning, I saw a gaggle of hardened sailors making their way down the docks towards me.

My own boat bobbed happily in the water next to me. It was smaller than anything that would normally carry cargo. I just hoped we weren't seen as a new rival pirate company. Bruce already dealt with the majority of them, but they always kept breaking out of jail and reclaiming their territory. The idea to claim it for myself was tempting, but that could come after I had found my prize.

For as long as I could remember, Alfred had put me to bed with a variety of stories. Above and beyond my favorite, besides anything set in the regency era, was the tale of The Shadow. A spectral ship, empty of any Captain or crew, but supposedly full of treasure, waiting for the right Captain to claim her. The only person said to be on the ship was some deck boy strung up to be thrown overboard. It wasn't known what the boy could have done to earn eternity on a damned ship, but I hoped I wouldn't find out.

Alfred couldn't tell me where the treasure had come from, but he did tell me of the many times someone tried to claim The Shadow for themselves, but each time, something would go wrong. The weather would turn, the crew would mutiny, a kraken would come and swallow their ship, the ship would come alive and kill the crew, the story would change but stay the same. No one was able to claim her.

The very idea sent me swooning. Tim and Dick both told me not to bother trying to look. Damian thought I was an idiot for believing the ship existed at all. With our nighttime activities of defending Gotham from gangs, pirates, and worse, I didn't know where they got the audacity to be such blatant hypocrites. If someone like Deadman could exist, then so too could The Shadow.

"Ready to go, Captain Jason?" A man I had hired on as First Mate stepped up beside me, a grin twisting his rugged features. He was unshaven, wearing sturdy clothing meant for hard labor. His hair was short and rusty brown, his eyes were a dull green, watering a bit. He slouched, turning to glance back at the men as they loaded themselves on, and began the process of getting the ship ready to sail.

My grin was sharper than his, and I hopped across the gap, landing on the top deck of the ship. Turning back to him, I gestured the man to follow. We toured the ship, and I made sure everything was flowing as it should. I had made sure to do my research on how ships ran, especially old ones, since the legend of The Shadow was as old as seafaring itself, maybe older. I knew how to sail a modern ship as well as, as many of the older versions of ships as I could sink my teeth into. I was ass at canoe, though I had no idea why. Kayaking was fine, and so was a little speed boat, but not a canoe. I kept getting flipped.

…

We cast out to sea, radio on and scanning for any unusual traffic. We were equipped to fish, and that's technically what we would be doing the most of. There was no telling how long it would take to find The Shadow, but I had made a map of where it had been sighted, color-coded by decade. We would find that ship, and I would… I would shove it in Bruce's face to stop doubting me. I would have finally proven myself to him, and he wouldn't have any choice but to pay attention!

Weeks passed, slowly sailing to each spot The Shadow had been spotted. We would occasionally put to port to speak with the ones whom had made the report. The crew was a little irritated with how long that method would take, so currently we were sailing out for our next destination, a series of sightings in the middle of the Atlantic.

"Captain! A storm's on the horizon!" One of the crew called from the crow's nest, sounding really worried.

"Size of the clouds?" I called back, already striding to the back deck to pull out my spyglass and get a better look. We had yet to see a storm yet, but it was sometimes said The Shadow would use them to travel, seemingly popping up once the storm passed and scaring the shit out of people.

"Too big! This storm'll tear us apart!" He called back, the nervous strings of his voice ringing out and alerting the rest of the crew that something wasn't right.

"Captain?" First Mate stepped up, hand reaching out for the spyglass. I handed it over easily, watching him as he held it up to his eye and looked through carefully. Pulling the lens from his eye, he glanced at me, giving a sharp nod.

"This is the best sign we've gotten so far." He announced, getting cheers from the crew. Shouldn't I be the one making that kind of announcement? Oh well. "With any luck, The Shadow is amongst those clouds! The treasure is close!"

The crew crowed in excitement, pumping their fists in the air. I dismissed them back to work, not liking some of the looks they would throw me when they thought I wouldn't notice. This crew wasn't my best idea, but it was almost over, I could almost taste the treasure on the air. We would split our shares, and be on our way.

…

Ocean spray blew into the air, flung across achingly familiar wooden planks. I glided across the damp wood, watching the ocean thrown around by my storm. The Shadow slipped across the water, my awareness brushing across something new. The souls wrapped around my throat like pearls shuddered at the foreign feeling, their rest disturbed. Interest piqued my mind however, the beauty of the ocean was unending, but then, so was the loneliness.

It had been a while since someone and tried to take what wasn't their's. My treasure had been safe for generations at this point. It had been so long, I thought the last person to know of my existence had finally died. I shouldn't have been so hopeful though, humans are too tenacious. They think they can just come aboard my ship, and hurt my charges. Maybe this can be the last time I have to defend. Maybe I can leave them with a lesson so harsh, no one else comes looking for me and mine. Maybe I could even keep a few of them for myself.

The wind I had been using to propel myself forward, ceased. I watched, flitting between portholes, flickering behind rigging, swarming the sails, as a boat drew closer. It teemed with people. They so badly wish to join my collection. I fingered my pearls, body clacking whenever I moved. The strings dangled across the ground, creating an eerie symphony.

Orders were shouted across the deck of the nearing ship. One voice stuck out from the rest. A young man with black hair stood at the helm, calling orders. A wild grin was on his face. Despite the distance I could see every detail. This young man looked as if he had found the thing he had been searching his entire life for. The way that emotion lit up his face was almost enough to make me blush.

This young man wanted me this badly? No one had come to purposefully seek me out in so long. Where maybe my heart was at one point, fluttered with emotion. Maybe this one. Maybe I could keep this one.

The boat was now close enough for them to clearly see my deck. Silence reigned as they all stared. Activity exploded, the Captain bursting forward. He stared at The Shadow, my ship, eyes sparkling and wide, his mouth hung open and everything. Tears sparked in the corners of his eyes, and he scrubbed them away quickly.

"This is it boys!" The Captain called, grabbing a rope and swinging over to me. His feet thunked on the wood, the first step made on this ship since…

Thunder filled the air as every boot landed on the deck. I flinched, hiding beneath the deck and staring up at them from between the floorboards. It had been so long since the souls around me were in a body. I fingered my string of pearls, the sound of the clattering drawing the attention of several of the sailors. They crossed themselves, glancing around nervously. I had to stifle a giggle. They had sealed their fate by coming after my charges, no amount of prayer could save them now.

My attention moved to the Captain, appearing in his shadow, watching him.

"At last… I've heard more stories about this magnificent beast than I can remember. The captaincy is within my grasp. It's right here." He murmured to himself, inspecting different areas of The Shadow. He opened doors, peaking in at empty rooms, followed closely by a few members of the crew. One of them had a knife in his hand, unsheathed, like he was going to kill the captain.

I frowned at the idea. That wouldn't be ideal. I could speak to a soul I had collected sure, but it was much easier if they had a body to move with. I tossed my head in exasperation, holding back a giggle as more of the vile sailors crossed themselves at the rattling clack that accompanied my every motion.

Pearls dripped down my body, strung across like a tight net. Each pearl was a soul I had collected on the seven seas. I kept them safe from those who might wish them harm. Here, with me, they could sail until time expired, feeling nothing but joy at the freedom bestowed to them. Being able to wander the earth, one with the oceans they had so loved? What more could a sailor want? They felt no hunger, no thirst, nor heat nor cold. I would take them around the world, even beneath the waves sometimes, to see magnificent wrecks.

I hadn't caused all of them.

The captain was stroking the wood of the bannister he leaned against. His thumb was gentle.

"I can't believe it. The Shadow is real, and looks as beautiful as if she had just come off the lot." He grinned, head tilting back to expose his neck. His eyes closed, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't need anything else. I can die happy now, just having found The Shadow." He pulled away from the wood, hands going into his pockets.

"Captain! We've searched most of the hold already, it's just full of moldy rocks and bad water!" One of the sailors stomped up to the Captain, a scowl on his face.

The Captain raised an eyebrow, looking the slightly shorter man up and down. "And? We've definitely found the right ship. What do I care about treasure? You'll still get paid what I promised." The Captain waved away the sailor, running his hands over another section of railing. He was approaching the helm, staring at it like it could answer every question he had ever had.

I wasn't sure how to react to him not caring about the treasure though. No one who sought out my ship knew that I was guarding it. Everyone wanted to find and take the treasure for themselves. The crew didn't seem to like that the captain didn't care about the treasure.

My mind whirled with possibilities as the crew began to tear through the ship, trying to find me. This Captain might really be someone worth keeping around. At least for a little while. I could always collect him after I finished with the crew. It would be nice to have a soul here independent of me. Then I would know his decisions were his own. Not to mention, I can't just let him leave after finding me, and I don’t think his crew will let him leave either. I grinned at the idea that these sailors were now all mine.

The Captain touched the helm, awe on his face.

I plunged into the woodwork of the ship, stretching my senses out through every piece of rigging. Snapping out, I grabbed every throat, wringing them like so much laundry. The crew were dead before a sound could be uttered. Another string of pearls clacked into being, wrapped around my body.

The captain was staring at me, his eyes a startling blue. I hadn't seen a person with such blue eyes before. They were almost as beautifully blue as the ocean in all her moods. They would be perfect to add to my collection of the most precious objects I could find.

In a flash, I revealed myself, watching as the Captain's beautiful eyes widened, showing even more shades of blue within their depths. There was nothing for it, I was utterly besotted. I had to have them. My hand reached out, cupping his face. The man was taller than me, but it didn't mean much when my feet didn't have to touch the floor.

"You–! You're not tangled in rigging! You're the treasure!" The Captain gasped, one hand covering his mouth, while the other carefully reached forward. It was if I hadn't just killed his entire crew before his eyes.

My own hands reached out, I cupped his face, feeling the strong jawline beneath my palms. It was so strange to be touching living flesh. The Shadow had already absorbed the bodies and nutrients of the men, their bodies no longer hanging from the rigging. I hadn't touched skin in so long…

The Captain began to scream, reaching up to try and shove me away. His eyes were so pretty, they would look better as the centerpiece for my favorite necklace. The pearls on that necklace had long gone dormant, but the souls inside had been important. Probably. How long since they last spoke to me? I pushed the thought away, wiping my hand across the empty sockets of my new Captain.

The wounds healed, and the man stopped screaming, his hands slowly lowering.

"Much better. Ahhhh, these are so pretty!" I exclaimed, wanting him to know I hadn't just thrown them out. "It's been so long since someone sought me out. Even longer since I had a Captain… it seems like that was what you were hoping for?" I asked, floating around my Captain, giggling as he spun around to my clacking.

"I…" He wet his bottom lip, head tilting this way and that, probably trying to follow me. "I've dreamt about being the captain of this ship for as long as I can remember." He was even telling the truth, rare that. The emotions bleeding from him were a desperate yearning I hadn't felt in ages. Usually I would only feel them from the terrified sailors that would flee before my storm.

My grin stretched too wide, but that was okay. He couldn't see it anyway. I looped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my flat chest to his own. The sound of the pearls rang across the ship.

"Welcome then, my Captain. Where are we going?" I asked, eager to find the first place I hadn't decided on.

Captain looked like I had dangled something precious in front of his face, only to snatch it away again. He scowled, trying to shove me off. I just clung tighter, phasing through his scrabbling hands so I didn't go anywhere. My grin turned to a bit of a snarl.

"You wanted to be my Captain, didn't you? Did you think there would be no price to pay? Now tell me. Where are we going?" I nuzzled into my Captain's throat, not wanting to scare him too much. It had been millennia since I had been human myself (was I ever actually human? Or did I imagine that?), so I would have to be patient with my Captain. Maybe I wasn't speaking his language?

Captain choked on air, but had stopped trying to push me away. His heart rate had spiked, rushing faster through his body as I stayed snuggled up to him.

This was going to be the start of a beautiful partnership.

[olderthannetfic]

This NaNoWriMo stuff with AI is largely unsurprising to me. I don't know how many people have gone beyond reading the viral clipped out bit about classism and ableism, but there was a follow up statement on that, in which they claim to take a very neutral stance. That their initial intent was apparently trying to curtail harassment of those who are using AI and they at least apologized for their confusing and unthoughtful wording of their original statement. Which seems legitimate enough to me. I'm sure they are sorry, considering the swift and unforgiving backlash they received. What I find kind of bizarre about this whole thing is, like, if you are running an event surrounding writing and making guidelines for what is and isn't okay in general-- then wouldn't it be a perfectly reasonable addition, to set out some level of encouraged practices for how one should or shouldn't use AI for during said event. Guidelines that are encouraged, that follow what everyone believes to be the spirit of the event (sitting down and actually writing a little every day for a month) would seem like a perfectly reasonable thing to do, to me. Like, am I off base here? With the rise in AI this seems like the natural progression. Even if only in spirit, not allowing generated works specifically seems like it would be a completely understandable guideline that keeps the event fair to those trying to do it the way it's meant to be done. And if you wanted to be neutral about it, it could be presented alongside a more lax policy around using AI to say, generate a plot bunny when experiencing writers block or create names for places/characters. People have been using tools like that for ages so there's precedent to allow "thoughtful" use of AI for these purposes. Anything at all, even if it can't be completely enforced, seems like it would have been better. The random endorsement of AI for people in certain circumstances from their follow up statement, and how it can be life changing, if one were to take their meaning in the most charitable way possible, does not feel like it's on topic here. Like, all this effort to be "neutral" on their part is not really coming across that way it's all just so damn clumsy. I try to always assume positive intent, not attributing to maliciousness (such as capital gain at the expense of creatives, which is one of the major problems with AI generated work) what can be better explained by ignorance, but even taking all that they've said in such a fashion, it largely feels like they didn't want people arguing about AI but also didn't want to have to make rules around AI that they would then have to, even if only in spirit, enforce. I can sort of understand that, considering it would be (most likely) impossible for them to differentiate between generated work and stuff that was written by a person. But again. They could have just said that it wouldn't be possible for them to police AI usage, blah blah blah, honor system (which again is already part of how NaNo works-- an honor system) but that targeted harassment campaigns of individuals for any reason would not be allowed within these spaces, up to and including suspected use of AI. Like there were so many different ways this could have been approached to accomplish what their stated goal was. Without??? Accidentally taking a very strange and not well thought out direct stance on AI that they later had to halfway walk back and apologize for. I don't think NaNoWriMo ever intended the message to be "We allow AI generated works now" (unless there's something I missed) -- That's not explicitly something they said, but rather the at large and reactionary interpretation of it. Now, I just have to wonder, what the hell happened to their September update post from last week, that was apparently addressing other issues. One thing I'll say for this whole mess, is it's at least amusing to watch the absurdity of their slow motion collapse hitting the speedrun stage toward total implosion. The org has had major internal problems for years now.

--

Honestly, I think the reaction is at least as much about longstanding issues with the organization as about people's fears of AI. Poorly thought out corporate idiocy feels in-character.

[xmoonlitxdreamx]

Misc tweets from priv + supplementary rambles abt venture's status in the franchise & fandom (these arent character analyses unfortunately its more like my frustration w the venture hate i see on twitter & my criticizm toward blizzard)

Re: "venture wasnt designed for skins" argument or sth:

^Also my additional thoughts related to "venture wasnt designed for skins": what does it mean for a character to be designed for skins? Were any of the ow1 characters "designed for skins" or were they designed in an attempt to push the characterization and storylines they had planned for these characters? Should blizzard even be making characters that are "designed for skins"?

I understand that blizz wants to make money but in my opinion designing a character specifically for the purpose of the ease of making marketable skins is a rather lazy and ingenuine approach to character design. If that's what blizz wants to do they should just make a dress up doll game or something, idk. If this franchise wants to act like it has a plot and dynamic characters, blizz need to allow its team to design characters with that in mind and not with the primary intent of selling skins.

What i also mean is this "character was designed for the skins" approach didnt seem to be as present in their old business model for ow1, and I & others are frustrated that theyve moved toward this approach more and more for ow2. Yes they have their reasons for this w the f2p business model in ow2 (or whatever, i dont play so i dont fully understand). I personally think these reasons are not sufficient and if blizz wants to have any sort of integrity with their franchise they ought to take a more earnest approach to how they design and release characters/skins.

(Also this is not a criticism of ppl who like juno or kiriko or whoever, im criticizing blizzard and their business choices/current approach to character design; and to some degree, im criticizing people who support blizzard's business choices/current approach to character design.)

(Also i like skins!!!!!!! A lot!!!!!!!!!!! I just think they should be secondary to the actual canon character design.........)

Re: people calling venture ugly/a "thing"

I actually have a rough standee sketch for them, mayb ill finish it sometime. Forgot abt adding them to the bunny set too... was think abt making a maid/butler design for them as well but idk yet. Idk im not great at drawing them & i dont think the hate they get is the majority but i still feel bad a trans character gets this kind of hate & it'd be nice to get some positive energy out there. "orz

Re: ppl comparing venture to the female cast members

The female ow cast & female character design is a whole other topic im not equipped to talk about coherently rn but idk this franchise and fandom is exhausting sometimes lmfao.....

Anyway that's all ive got. Kind of a rant-y rambly unorganized post.....! But idk been on my mind. 😑

[partywithponies]

There seem to be some serious crossed wires in the BBC Ghosts fandom right now. No-one who's mad about the people criticising the finale even seem to understand what the people criticising it are even criticising, and are claiming people are just mad they didn't get the ending they wanted, or that people just don't like sad endings.

While meanwhile everyone criticising it that I've seen isn't criticising the major plot points, they're criticising the writing, the fact it was rushed, the fact the episode was weirdly paced and not very funny and felt tonally different from a normal episode, and the fact that no matter how much logical sense the decisions made make in universe, it's incredibly clunky writing to have two episodes with entirely different conclusions one right afer the other. It's gonna be SO jarring when future people watch the show and go immediately from one episode to the next with no gap.

Don't like sad endings??? Me?? You think I, the six idiots fandom's number one Bunny and the Bull fan, don't like sad endings? If anything it wasn't sad enough. I wanted death and devastation. I love tragedy. I love weeping and heartache. I love seeing characters die onscreen. But I would've accepted any ending, as long as I thought it was well written. And I simply didn't. I didn’t hate it or think it was the worst thing ever or that it ruined the whole show, I just thought it wasn't a very well written or well made episode.

And that's okay. It's okay for people to like it. It's okay for people to absolutely love it. And it's okay for people to not like it. And it's okay for people to absolutely hate it. But right now people seem to be responding to arguments people aren't making and ignoring the arguments that people are.

[urfavoritegirlkisser]

"Someone Gets Hurt" - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Tags: Fem!reader, jealous!reader, you and abby are like on again off again, manipulative!reader, reader is gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girl bossing, implied abby x Ellie, nothing happens with that it's mainly for the plot, girls kissing YIPEE!, pet names like baby and honey, lightly proof read

a/n: in honor of one of my favorite musicals being released in theaters, you all get a mean girls au where the reader is basically regina, abby is aaron, and ellie is cady. Highly recommend you listen to "Someone Gets Hurt" from the cast album to get the vibe.

It’s Halloween and you’re at a house party hosted by your ex, Abby Anderson. 

You watch the new girl, Ellie, who you’ve taken under your wing, mainly to make sure she doesn’t stomp on the work you’ve put in to become the reigning power over the student body of your high school. 

She is currently checking out Abby who is in a chugging contest with the other softball players. It makes you roll your eyes and scoff to yourself in disgust. Still, the lingering stare Ellie gives her makes you fume, so you put on your most convincing smile and walk over.

“I heard you have a crush on Abby Anderson” You say, seemingly coming from nowhere as Ellie jumps a little in fright, eyes skimming over your skimpy bunny costume.

Ellie registers what you said and curses under her breath, “Uh…yeah, I do” she stammers a little under your gaze, which boosts your ego even more.

You’ll be honest, the fact that Ellie was going after your ex girlfriend twisted the jealousy in your stomach, a deep fear of this new girl taking your place as queen bee of the school.

You decided to have some fun

“I think you guys would make the cutest couple” you say sweetly, lying through your teeth

Ellie blushes even harder as she looks over at Abby who is sitting on the couch, “Really, I mean I heard you two were a thing so if you aren’t comfortable-”

You interrupt her, “Oh it’s fine, I could even talk to her for you if you’d like?” you say as innocently as possible

“You’d do that?” she says in surprise, which makes you laugh at how gullible she is

“It’s what friends are for…right?” You say with a smile before making your way over to Abby.

You stand in front of her, “I have to talk to you” you say which finally gets her attention as she slowly trails her eyes up your body before looking into your eyes, she smirks and leans back into the couch while putting her hands behind her head.

You take a moment to appreciate her muscular arms before listening to her response.

“I thought we were done talking after you dumped me this past summer” she says with an annoyed voice which you simply chuckle at.

You sit yourself in her lap and while she seems annoyed at first, you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist, “So, I heard that the new girl Ellie has a major crush on you”

You expect her to scoff, or roll her eyes, or something to that effect. What you don’t expect is Abby smiling softly to herself as a blush spreads across her cheeks, “Really? She does?” Abby says in an almost timid voice while keeping her gaze on Ellie.

Oh hell no

Your smirk drops for a moment before you recover and decide to pull out the big guns, you make yourself tear up and sniffle a little while looking away so you can pull some convincing crocodile tears to your eyes.

Abby pulls her attention away from Ellie immediately and lifts your chin gently, “Whoa, what’s wrong?” she asks in a concerned voice

You look up at her through your lashes, really milking this, “I just didn’t think this would be so hard for me” you say through fake sobs, “Just…promise me you won’t break her heart the way you did mine” you say as you get up and start to walk away

“Wait, baby, come here” Abby says and you feel her grab your wrist gently to turn you around.

Bingo

You smirk wickedly for a moment before putting your hurt facade back up as you face her again, “I just feel like you only dated me to make yourself look good” you say while placing a hand on her chest near her heart, “I truly love you Abby, but I was so afraid you’d find someone better than me and leave”

Abby sighs and places one of her hands over yours, intertwining your fingers, “I loved you too, and still do, I could neverfind anyone that could even come close to you” she says in a soft voice that makes you smile as your plan works.

You smile coyly and brush your hand down her arm, taking in her costume before looking up at her again, “You know…I think you have got to be the hottest zombie softball player I have ever seen.”

Abby smirks down at you, “Well considering I’m the only one, I’d say I have an unfair advantage” she says while wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close

She looks over your costume and speaks in a low voice as her face gets closer to yours, her breath fanning softly over your face, “I’ve seen about five girls wearing the same as you, but none of them can even compare honey” she says and you can feel her lips almost brush against yours.

You smile and pull her in fully, your lips pressing together in a heated exchange from months worth of tension since the summer.

When you pull away and look past Abby’s shoulder, you manage to catch the smallest glimpse of Ellie running out the door, and you smile to yourself.

an: I hope you enjoyed!! This is my first time writing for Abby so hopefully it isn't terrible lol, now go drink some water you girl kissers

[kimpossibly]

THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART FOUR: aurora

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, drugs, minor injuries, blood, very suggestive content, implied sex (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HIIIIIIII HI HI HI HELLO AND WELCOME TO THE FOURTH AND FINAL INSTALLMENT OF THE CHAIN! I'm so sorry this took me ten million years to write, it was really hard both time-wise and emotionally, as you'll see later...but HERE IT IS!!!!! This little story has gotten so much love since I posted the first part and it is absolutely insane. I'm almost at 800 followers now, compared to the 300-and-something I had before. It is absolutely crazy how this little plot bunny turned into something that you all really love. I'm glad that this story has brought you guys joy, and I hope I can do that one last time. So, here you go! Part four of The Chain!

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a life threatening illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

AURORA (1977-1978)

EDDIE: It started with little things, you know? The drip before the dam breaks. She would have these moments of...of absentmindedness. She'd say "I think I'm going to wear the red sweater at tonight's gig." And I'd say, "I love that one." And she'd say. "Me too." And then she'd pause, and go back to whatever the hell she was doing ― strumming on the guitar, packing for tour ― and all of a sudden she'd say, "Oh, Ed, I'm going to wear the red sweater at the show tonight." I thought maybe she was telling a joke, but she'd look up at me, waiting for a response. So I'd say, "Baby, you just told me that." And she'd say, "I did?" And I'd say, "You did." And then she'd pause again, thinking. And then she'd shrug and just say, "Oh." Oh. Like it didn't even matter that she'd just said the same thing twice and forgotten she'd even said it in the first place. I don't blame her for it. I mean, she was like the opposite of a hypochondriac. She could stitch you up when you got hurt, but she thought she was indestructible. It was all I could do to get her to see that everyone has a breaking point. Everyone has that point that they can't come back from. And I didn't know it then, but she'd already crossed it.

KAREN: The first time it happened ― the first time we really started to realize that something was up ― was during a rehearsal. I think...I think we might've been recording, actually.

Aurora was coming along better than any of them thought it was. The songs were recorded in six days. The band was in the middle of the fourth day, mid-recording of "Kill You To Try," when the drums came to a sudden halt at the song's peak.

And Billy, whose only goal was getting the album recorded so that he and Teddy could take over on the mixing, was on the verge of losing his mind.

It took him a moment to realize the drums had faded away until they were completely gone. The rhythmic guitar faded next, next the bass, and then Billy caught up, his voice breaking off and his headphones pulled away from his ears.

He turned around, an angry knot forming between his brows. "Y/n?" he said impatiently. When there was no answer, he said it again. "Y/n."

She was staring straight forward, arms fallen limp to her sides, a blank look on her face. Her eyes fluttered rapidly, more half-blinks than full stops.

Karen, who was closest to her at the keyboard, walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "Honey, are you all right?"

And then it stopped. Y/n blinked one last time and her eyes went still. She looked around at all of them, a crease forming between her brows. "What?" she asked, looking back at their stares. "What did I do?"

DAISY: We just...we didn't know what to say.

"You zoned out, dude." Warren replied.

"I did?" she asked. There were nods. "Oh. Sorry."

They went back to recording then, mostly at Billy's insistence, but Eddie couldn't help watching Y/n through the corner of his eye for the rest of the day. She seemed fine enough for the most part, but he couldn't get rid of the sneaking suspicion that something was very, very wrong.

"Okay...okay. Mom, go, I don't need Dr. Medina getting mad at me. I'll call you in the morning. I hope the surgery goes well. Be the best damn nurse the world has ever seen. Okay, bye. Love you."

Y/n hung up the phone and jumped over the top of the couch, lying down and laying her head in Eddie's lap. Everyone else had left the house in Laurel Canyon by now, making them its only two residents. It was quieter than it was before, sometimes unsettlingly so, but they liked it. With the band becoming more and more chaotic, they both needed the quiet. Plus, they could make out in the kitchen without worrying about anyone walking in on them. That was a definite plus.

Eddie stared off into space for a moment, absentmindedly running a hand through Y/n's hair. "You ever think about getting married?"

Y/n sat up, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Getting married. Out of the blue. Just like Camila and Billy."

Y/n stuttered, "Camila and Billy have been together since, like, the beginning of time. We've only been together for...we can't..."

She trailed off, and Eddie's face fell. He covered it up with a shrug. "No, it's fine."

"Eddie, hey."

"No, no it's fine, I get it," he said, getting up from the couch. Yes, it was a risky thing to say. And he hadn't exactly known what to expect, but it definitely wasn't that.

Y/n got up to gently grab his wrist, stopping him in place. "Eddie, Eddie," she said gently as he reluctantly turned. He looked somewhat dejected ― it hurt her to see, so she put on her sweetest smile as she laced her fingers behind his neck. "Camila and Billy got married at three in the morning because she got knocked up. That's not me. That's not us."

He said nothing, but his features softened just the slightest bit.

"It can't be out of the blue, okay? Call me old fashioned, but I want the planning. The pretty cathedral, the stupid vows, the white dress...I want it all. And being in a rock band doesn't really coincide with that, yeah?"

Eddie just rolled his eyes at that, but there was a slight grin on his face as he did so. "Come here," she muttered, pulling him closer and hugging him tightly. He held her back, his chin resting atop her head like she'd fly away if he didn't try hard enough.

"Give me some time. We have a world tour coming up, but after that..." she trailed off with a smile. "That sound okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Eddie responded with a shit-eating grin. Now it was Y/n's turn to roll her eyes and push him away, smiling.

"Why are you in such a rush to get tied down? Aren't rockstars pretty flighty people?"

"I'll let you know you when I see one," Eddie said, and pulled her in to kiss her.

Billy and Daisy were nowhere to be seen. Daisy Jones & The Six's World Tour of Aurora was set to begin in less than a month, and their main attraction was missing from rehearsal. The rest of the band sat around like sitting ducks, fiddling with their instruments like they had no purpose. Well, right then, it was like they didn't. Without Billy or Daisy...practice almost wasn't worth it.

And eventually, Eddie had had it. "Okay," he said, standing up, "this is bullshit. Just because Billy and Daisy aren't here, we have to sit with our thumbs up our asses?"

Warren paused. "Yeah, basically."

Eddie shook his head, giving a bitter laugh. "Yeah, fuck that. Up."

He slung his guitar over his shoulder as they all reluctantly got up, groaning in exasperation. Y/n took her seat behind the drums, Karen got behind the keys, and Warren picked up his guitar. And Eddie headed for the mic, causing a few confused glances between the other band members.

"Hey, Ed?" Y/n called. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? We're going to rehearse."

"Yeah, but...you're not going to sing, are you?" Graham said.

Y/n threw a drumstick at him. "Dude."

Warren and Karen held back laughter. Eddie looked around the room, eyebrows raised. "Fine. Anyone else want to volunteer?" he asked. "Please, someone else take over."

No one moved to take his place. Eddie nodded. "That's what I thought. Okay, let's start with Regret Me."

"You're going to sing Daisy's part?" Y/n said, eyebrows raised.

"Nope," Eddie responded. "You are."

Y/n froze. For a moment she thought that might've been a joke.

KAREN: She looked like a deer in headlights. I knew Eddie wouldn't ask me, probably because he was still a little scared of me. But Y/n always hated being front and center. She looked like she was going to be sick.

Eddie beckoned her forward. She looked at the others for help, but all she got in return was wide-eyed looks and desperate shrugs. She looked back at Eddie. "N-No! I-I have to do the drums!"

"Teddy can play the drums. Right, Teddy?"

Caught off-guard, Teddy pressed the speaker button. "Um, sure?"

As Teddy came from the booth into the studio, Eddie walked over to where Y/n sat behind the drums. She had shrunk down as if to hide herself. She stared up at Eddie as though he were about to lead her to the slaughter. "What the fuck are you doing?" she said in a harsh whisper. "I'll kill you, you know. The second we get home, I'm taking the bat and crushing your fucking kneecaps."

Eddie just laughed as he took her hand to guide her to the mic with him. "I know you can do this," he muttered, quiet enough so that only she could hear, "I've heard you sing it."

"In the shower."

"Still counts."

She resisted the urge to slap him right then, looking around at the rest of the band. "If any one of you ever bring this up ever again―"

"Yeah, yeah, save the death threats," Warren said. "Can we all just shut up and rehearse?"

"Oh, now you have a sense of urgency." Y/n muttered.

After one final look around, Graham counted them in, and the song began. And Y/n who had no instrument to play, only stood a solid foot away from the mic, her heart beating so quickly that she could feel it in her skull. Eddie gently took her hand to pull her closer. When he opened his mouth to sing, hers stayed shut.

"You regret me and I regret you," he sang alone. "Except I don't care what you're feeling and I don't need your reprove."

He squeezed her hand, trying to encourage her with only his eyes. And then, quietly, she joined in on the next line.

"I'm a slippage in the system with a natural gift, how I move," he found himself starting to sing through a smile, "So go ahead and regret me but I'm beating you to it, dude."

The chorus was approaching, making Y/n feeling more and more like she was going to throw up. The logical part of her knew that she wouldn't burst into flame if her voice cracked. But the other part? The other part of her wanted to punch Eddie in the face for ever bringing her within a five foot radius of this mic.

"You regret me and I regret you!"

WARREN: They had that chemistry that Billy and Daisy had, but it felt more…lived in. Daisy and Billy were like two pieces of flint that you’d knock together. Sparks would fly and hey, maybe something would catch on fire. Eddie and Y/n were like a bonfire. Controlled. And, if you stood a good enough distance away, you could see how nice it was. It wasn’t as exciting, but it sure was good enough to take the place of the real thing.

She gained confidence the more that she sang. Whether it was the fact that her voice held on or the fact that she got to stand so close to Eddie, she didn't know, but she felt okay.

"Go ahead and regret me, but I'm beating you to it, dude." Y/n finished the song with a smile at Eddie, her face flushed. It took her a moment to realize that the room around her was silent.

Her smile fell. "What?"

"Nothing," Graham said. "That was great. Um...what about Honeycomb?"

Everyone nodded in agreement, going back to their instrument. Eddie pulled Y/n to his side, pressing a kiss to her head. "Told ya."

She suppressed a smile. "Shut up."

EDDIE: The lead up to the tour, I think. That was when things got really weird. She was tired all the time, no matter how much sleep she got. I mean, yeah, we were recording an album and getting ready for a world tour, but it wasn't like normal. We'd come home and she'd go straight to be, sleep until the morning, wake up, and an hour later she'd be yawning again. For a while I thought she might've just been tired of me [laughs].

"Y/n, come on. Time to get up," Eddie said quietly, crouching beside their bed to be at her eye level. Her eyes blinked open reluctantly and she groaned, rolling over.

"My head is killing me."

"I'll get you some Advil."

"No, no, I got it," she said, and then proceeded to lay in bed, eyes shut, curled under the blankets.

After a few moments, Eddie spoke. "Y/n?"

"Five more minutes."

He laughed quietly. "Come here," he said, sliding one arm under her back and one under her legs, scooping her up into his arms.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders gratefully, burying her head in his neck. "Wow, you're so strong," she said with a little giggle.

"Yeah, yeah. I can still throw you down the stairs."

"Ooh, I'm counting on it."

They went to rehearsal―where, luckily, Daisy and Billy were already located―and got to work. Eddie kept an eye on Y/n out of the corner of his eye. Her headache had worsened on the drive there despite her taking more pain pills than was probably necessary. She played just fine, but she cringed ever so often at the punctuated hit of a hi-hat. He thought about taking her off the drums for a bit and putting Teddy in her place, but she'd just get angry at him.

In the middle of Let Me Down Easy, the drums stopped suddenly, drum sticks clattering to the floor. Everyone looked up to see Y/n sprinting out of the room, a hand clamped over her mouth. Eddie froze. Karen was the first to move, running after her to make sure she was all right.

They all stood in silence for a minute or two, unsure of how to proceed. Karen came back, running a hand through her hair. "She just got sick. She's fine now, but I think we should give her a minute."

"What, does she have the flu or something?" Graham asked.

"Maybe she's pregnant," Camila suggested. Everyone turned to look at her at once. She blinked. "What?"

Eddie left the room then, feeling like he was about to be sick himself. The bathroom door was ajar when he got there. Y/n was sitting on the floor when he walked in, knees tucked to her chest, her head propped up by one palm.

"Hi," she croaked.

"Hi. You okay?" he asked, sitting beside her.

"Fucking fabulous," she replied with a slight grin.

He smiled and kissed her forehead, wrapping an arm around her. "D'you think that maybe it's time you see a doctor? I mean, the headache, you're tired all the time, and now this?"

"No, no," she waved her hand to brush that away. "I get like this sometimes. It's like allergies. It's whatever. I'll ask my mom on the phone later. She's never failed me."

Eddie nodded, going silent for a moment. "Are you maybe...do you think you might be pregnant?"

"No, I'm―" Y/n began, then cut herself off. She paused for a moment, thinking. Then she turned back to Eddie, eyes wide. "Um."

Cut to the two of them in the bathroom at midnight, Eddie pacing and Y/n staring at a little pregnancy test on the counter. It had taken them nearly half a dozen drug stores to find a regular pregnancy test, not to mention the fact that they grew more and more panicked with every second that passed.

"What if―"

"Nope, no," Eddie cut her off, "We are not playing the What If game right now. Whatever happens happens, and we'll deal with it."

Y/n nodded, pursing her lips. "But, what if―"

"Y/n, no."

After a few minutes of anxious silence, Y/n exclaimed. "Look, I see a line!"

Eddie quit his pacing to rush to her side, looking down at the test. "What does that mean?"

"Two lines means I'm pregnant."

"There's only one."

"I know that, Eddie."

"Well, what does that mean?"

And then they were scrambling for the box, looking for the instructions they worried they might've accidentally tossed out. Once the box assured them that one line meant Y/n was definitely not pregnant, they both let out a sigh of relief, Y/n slumping over the counter in exhausted victory. "I feel like we should take several rounds of shots right now."

Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist. "Thank God, I was about to call Karen's priest."

She laughed, feeling giddy.

"Would it have been the worst thing In the world, though?" he asked.

Y/n turned her head to look up at him. "Sweetheart, we're about to leave for a world tour. The timing isn't exactly ideal," she paused. "But no, it wouldn't have been the worst thing ever. I mean, I would have a lot to explain to my extremely Catholic grandparents, but no, I wouldn't be entirely devastated."

Eddie couldn't stop a smile that spread out of her sight. "First you want to marry me and now you want to have my children? God, are you obsessed with me or something?"

She gasped in mock offense, tearing herself from her grip and glaring at him. "You precocious son of a bitch."

"Careful, you might accidentally turn me on."

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him for a moment. Then, quick as a flash, she turned and ran to the bedroom. Eddie chased after her, their screams of laughter floating up through the ceiling as he slammed the door behind them.

AURORA WORLD TOUR (1978-1979)

WARREN: Tour life was crazy, man. It always had been, but that one was insane. Daisy and Billy had it out in Rolling Stone, and everyone wanted to see their little shitshow. I'm not saying that their blowup was what rocketed us to the top...but it fuckin' was. Drama, man. The people eat it up.

Daisy Jones & The Six was the shit. Everywhere they went, massive crowds followed. Record sales were at an all-time high. Everyone knew the band. They were on top of the world.

Eddie thought every day about taking a knee and proposing to Y/n. In the middle of a show, even. He'd do it in the dead of night. They never tired of each other, no matter how long they were together. They were attached at the hip until they were forced away, which, now that they were on tour together, wasn't often.

They had made a routine. Wake up, rehearse with the band for a couple hours, and then go walk around whatever city they were in. Then they'd play the show, go to a party, and go back to their hotel room. They clung to each other through all of it. Eddie wasn't quite sure what the terms of common law marriage were, but he was sure that they would meet all of them. But he'd wait until the tour was over, just like she said. And then he'd marry her. That much he knew.

When they got to Chicago around early July, it was set to be their biggest show of the tour.

KAREN: Tensions were high. I don't think the two of them noticed, or they were too in love to care.

They stood backstage, the sounds of the crowd growing louder and louder as more people arrived.

Camila turned to wish her good luck with a smile, but it quickly faded. "Oh, honey, your nose."

Y/n frowned, then felt a drip. She swiped her thumb underneath her nose and it came away slick with blood. "Oh," she muttered, "oops."

"Are you alright?" she asked in a very mom-way.

"Yeah, feeling okay," Y/n nodded. "Goodnight, Julia."

Camila rocked her daughter, "Say bye-bye, Julia."

Julia lifted a hand and made a grabby motion in farewell. Y/n giggled and did the same back, still holding her nose. "Bye, Squishy," she said, poking one of Julia's little dimples. The girl giggled and clung to her mom, disappearing out of sight.

She staunched the blood as best she could once she found tissues, stashing bloody tissues in her bag rather than the trash can so as not to worry anyone. She swiped on some glitter anywhere that would catch the light. Eddie came in as she was tying her hair up. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder.

The moment her eyes closed, she got this feeling like she wanted nothing more than to let them stay closed, to drift away into sleep right there. She was tired. There were thousands of screaming people out there waiting for her, and all she could think about was getting to sleep as soon as possible.

"Maybe this tour is it," she muttered into Eddie's shoulder.

"What?"

She paused, trying to form a thought into words. "After this. I don't know if I can do it again."

They pulled apart and Y/n saw a crease between Eddie's brows. "What makes you say that?"

Before she got a moment to figure out what exactly made her come to that conclusion, she was being pulled forward onto the stage by Warren. The crowd came to a deafening roar as they appeared, and Y/n waved and smiled like she had done a hundred times, taking her place behind the drums.

They all picked up their instruments, and then Billy turned and gave Y/n the nod. The first drum hit of 'Aurora' rang out, and the show began.

EDDIE: The show was great. We all played great, the crowd was great, it was all...[pauses] it was great.

The set was coming to a close. They had played through nearly the entirety of the album, throwing in some older songs of theirs. But the crowd had ceaselessly been chanting for one song in particular, one that had purposely been left off the setlist for the entirety of the tour: Look At Us Now.

Everyone looked around at each other, then at Billy. He glanced back at them as if asking permission. They each gave a nod, and Daisy turned back to the mic. "Who wants to hear Honeycomb?"

The screams of the crowd that followed were enough to answer that question. Billy looked back at all of them again. "You know what to do."

Billy picked up an acoustic guitar from the side of the stage and came back. He tapped his foot a couple times to set the pace, and then he began to play.

The crowd sang every word with them, for them at times. And Y/n selfishly thought she had the best seat in the house. From the back of the stage, she could see it all. The crowd, the band, and everything in between. How could she let this go? This tour couldn't be the end of it all. She decided right then that she wouldn't let it. Not when there were views like this in the world and she was one of the few that got to see it.

And in an instant, it all went haywire.

Daisy and Billy were so caught up in the song for a moment that they both failed to notice as the drums grew more and more muddled until they stopped all together. Drum sticks clattered to the ground, heads snapping in their direction. Thousands of eyes saw as Y/n slumped out of her seat, collapsing on the ground beside the drums.

Instruments were dropped haphazardly as everyone on that stage stopped what they were doing to rush to the drum set. Rod left his spot in the wings to see for himself as Y/n laid stiff on the ground, seizing.

What followed was a rush of colors and light, of ambulances and ceilings, none of which she could really see or understand. But Eddie could. Eddie saw and understood all of it. And that, possibly, was the worst part.

Y/n woke up not long after, feeling as though she had just woken up from restless sleep. She asked quick questions, which were answered in short, quick words by Billy and Camila. Who she really wanted to speak to was Eddie, but he was laser focused on whatever needed to happen next. All he could do was hold her hand and squeeze back.

By the time she was in her hospital bed, she was convinced that she was perfectly fine. The part she was most upset about was ending the concert early―which, she assured them, would not happen again.

"After I get treated for whatever this is, I can come back, right? Rod?"

"Calm down, kid. You just had a seizure. Give yourself some time to be overdramatic before you get back on the road," he said with a slight chuckle.

"Miss L/n, have you ever had a history of epileptic seizures?" the nurse in the room asked. Y/n shook her head, and the nurse gave a nod. "I'll be right back with the doctor."

She left, and Warren suddenly gave a shiver. "Fucking hate hospitals."

Y/n shrugged. "I basically grew up in one."

"Ah, so that's why you're...you."

Several people had to dodge as Y/n hurled a pillow at him. Then, realizing it was the only one she had, she pouted. "Give it back."

"Oh, this pillow? The one you threw at me?" Warren said, being annoying as usual. "No way, sister. This is my property now. Bequeathed to me by your sorry arm muscles."

"I'll beat you up as soon as I get out of this bed."

"Sure you will, honey."

The door to her room opened and the doctor stepped in. He was tall, older, and graying a bit at the ends. "Hi there," he greeted. "I'm Doctor Lawrence."

Y/n waved, and he suddenly seemed to realize how many people were in the room. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid only family are allowed in here," he said.

Y/n immediately grabbed Eddie by the wrist. "He's my husband!" she said. Everyone quieted. "And they're my brothers," she looked at Billy and Graham, "sister-in-laws," she glanced over at Camila and Karen, "he's my cousin," she nodded to Warren, "and he's my weird uncle," she said, looking at Rod. Then she looked back at the doctor. "They're my family."

The doctor didn't believe a word she'd said. But after a moment of silence, he nodded to the group. "You can stay."

Y/n sighed in relief, lacing her fingers with Eddie's. If anything were to happen that night, she'd rather have him by her side.

Doctor Lawrence asked her a couple menial questions, then rambled a bit about what exactly seizures are (which, of course, she already knew) and suggested a CT scan to better understand what was going on. She agreed.

The next few hours were rather boring. Silences were punctuated with pain, as Y/n grew to realize how stiff her neck was. Her arms and legs were sore, but that, she assumed, was from the seizure.

"It's too bright in here," she commented when she was returned to her room. "Can I turn the lights down a little?"

People milled about. Camila had to go to be with Julia and the twins. Graham and Karen got coffee. Warren and Rod sat around her hospital room, competing to see who had the crazier stories (the winner, of course, was Rod). Eddie sat beside Y/n on the hospital bed the entire time, talking to her as she came in and out of consciousness

One of the times her eyes blinked open, she frowned, looking around in confusion. "Where the hell am I?"

Eddie paused. "You're in the hospital, Y/n."

Her eyes widened. "Why?"

"You...you had a seizure."

"Oh," she said. He felt her flex her fingers in his. "My hands feel weird. I can't feel your hand."

Eddie began to panic. She was treating every new horrible thing as though it were a new science fact she had just learned. "Y/n, what―"

Doctor Lawrence returned then, Karen and Graham trailing behind him. Billy returned not soon after. The only one not pale and freaked out was Y/n, who seemed content braiding small strands of her hair.

"The CT scan came back. She has a severe case of encephalitis."

Everyone looked around, most of them either hearing that word for the first time or not knowing what it is. Y/n did. "How? Meningitis?"

"Hard to say. It probably started out as a virus, something that triggered a strong autoimmune response."

"Can I take an antiviral to treat it?"

"Sorry, can someone explain what the fuck you're saying?" Warren finally asked.

Y/n sighed, letting go of her third braid. "My brain is inflamed, and it's swelling. It's pressing on my brain stem and it caused the seizure."

"That sounds...bad?" Graham said.

"Yeah, but it can be treated," Y/n said with a shrug. "I'll need to take antivirals for a bit, right?"

The doctor paused. "Yes, you would for a less severe case."

Her eyes narrowed. "So, what do I do for my case?"

He went silent. Y/n froze. Everyone looked to the doctor, who seemed unsure of how to continue. "I'm sorry."

Y/n understood what he was saying. She felt her sore muscles stiffen up again, this time from panic. "You're saying there's nothing? Do I just have it let it go away on its own, or...?"

"A case this advanced won't go away on its own."

"Well, if it won't go away on its own and we can't treat it, then...then what?" she asked, her voice becoming more panicked. "What do I do? Tell me what to do, I'll do it."

Lawrence just shook his head again. "I'm so sorry. I'll give you all a minute to figure out how you want to proceed."

He left then, and everyone was silent.

"Y/n," Eddie said, his voice quiet and careful, "what does that mean?"

She was staring at the blanket over her legs, eyes blank. "Can someone please get my mom on the phone please?" she asked quietly.

"Y/n, what does it mean?"

"It can't be treated. It's not going to go away on its own, it'll just get worse," she said in a quiet, calculated voice, like she was reading from a textbook. "It'll put more and more pressure on my brain stem. And the brain stem regulates circulation and breathing, so..."

Karen let out a sob, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth. Y/n couldn't bear to look up at the faces around her, because she knew she'd see a reflection of exactly what she was feeling right then: hopelessness.

It meant that she was already gone.

"Someone get my mom on the phone. Please."

The night that followed was awful. Camila returned, having finally found someone to watch Julia and the twins. Y/n had watched as Billy told her the news. She teared up, tears streaming down her face within minutes. But she shoved them away as she walked into the room to give Y/n a hug. She chatted about how Julia missed her. She did a good job of keeping the conversation off of the obvious. Y/n was glad for it.

Eddie ended up beside Y/n on her bed. She curled into his side, floating in and out of consciousness. She seized twice more, once just past one in the morning, once after the sun had just started to come up.

Her mom arrived on a flight from Pittsburgh at two. The first time Y/n cried was when she saw her walk into the room.

The morning brought some sense of comfort. Karen and Billy went out to get coffee and bagels for everyone. They all sat around and talked about something other than music, which they hadn't done as a group in years, maybe in forever.

Y/n glanced up at Eddie at some point during the conversation and noticed that he had a strange look on his face. "What?" she asked, nudging him.

Eddie looked down at her, a million thoughts in his head at once, all of which combined to form one coherent sentence.

EDDIE: I told her right then and there that I wanted to marry her. I didn't care how much time she had left. I wanted to call her my wife.

KAREN: When I looked at Y/n, I could just tell...he didn't have to say it twice.

GRAHAM: It all happened so fast from there. Karen called the minister that had done Camila and Billy's wedding ― once we told him the circumstances, he was pretty quick to agree to officiate. That guy was metal, man. He'd done two last-minute weddings for a rock band within two years. Show me another priest who could brag about that. Not that priests brag, right? Jesus was humble and shit. But you know what I mean.

CAMILA: Eddie left to get a tux. He said he wanted to do his part, even if Y/n was wearing a hospital gown.

EDDIE: I think I said something really cheesy about how, if she could look that good in a hospital bed, then I could at least do my best to look the part of a groom. She loved it.

KAREN: Graham went with him, for "style advice," is how I think he phrased it. Really I think he just went to make sure he had someone there with him. None of us really wanted to leave Eddie alone.

GRAHAM: I think we got the first one that fit. He wore it as we left the place. Eddie wasn't screwing around. He was giddy the whole time. He would go dead silent for a few minutes and then talk my ear off for another few. All in all, I think we were gone for maybe forty-five minutes. An hour, tops. We didn't know...we didn't realize they couldn't call us if something happened.

KAREN: It happened so fast. She was so excited, she was talking so quickly I could barely understand her. But she was beaming at us the whole time. You couldn't help but be happy for her.

BILLY: Twenty minutes after they left, she asked for something. Ice chips, I think. The nurses gave them to her all the time, she was kind of addicted. She asked if we could get her some, and Karen said something stupid like, "I'd get you a private jet if you asked for it." And she laughed and said "Don't tell me that ― I might ask, just to see you sweat."

DAISY: Billy left the room to get her some ice and then...I'm no doctor, I can't tell you exactly what happened.

CAMILA: She started seizing up again, so Karen and I tried to put her on her side, but she started fighting us. Like, smacking us away whenever we tried to touch her. I don't know if it was her or...[Pause] something other than her. That's the kind of thing that keeps me up, you know? She was so happy to get married. So happy. But when she hit us away...it was almost like she knew exactly what she was doing.

KAREN: The doctors came in and shooed us back out into the waiting room. Camila didn't want to let go. Neither did I. They practically had to pull us off of her. Billy found us out there, still holding the ice chips, and Camila just started bawling. She didn't say anything, but I think he could piece together what it was that'd happened.

DAISY: Karen sat down. Billy stayed up with Camila, holding her while the ice in the cup started melting down to water. We couldn't have been out there more than ten minutes when the doctor came out. The look she gave us...we just knew. We knew.

BILLY: Camila was almost screaming. Karen left; we didn't ask where she was going. All of a sudden, it was like...like the first time I ever took a punch. You know, you've heard about getting in a fight and taking a hit so hard it makes your head spin. And then there's the first time it really happens to you, when you take your first punch. And there's this brief moment in between the hit and the pain. You know it's coming, but there's that delay before it gets you. In a second, you get the air knocked out of you, and then...[Shakes head] and then it hits you. It didn't feel like losing a friend, either. I lost a sister.

KAREN: I was just completely blindsided. I walked out, not really knowing where I was going. I felt like I was going to puke, and I didn't want to do that in front of everyone. I think we all forgot, you know, that Graham and Eddie were out...

CAMILA: I remember looking over Billy's shoulder, seeing the car drive back up and Eddie stepped out in the tux. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands, talking a mile a minute, and I just...[Chokes up] I couldn't tell him.

BILLY: He walked into the room, and he saw her, and...God, he just...he pulled out this little box from his pocket. He took her hand, opened the box, and put the ring on her finger. He kissed her on the forehead, and then he left.

KAREN: Camila was his first love, yeah. But Y/n? She was the love of his life, man. He had something people would die for, kill for. And the minute he realized it, the minute he realized what he had, the universe snatched it away from him. Life is un-fucking-fair, man. Always has been and always will be.

CAMILA: God, he really loved her. He really did.

When Eddie got the call, he was surprised to hear that she wanted to speak to him directly. Even more so, he was surprised to hear that someone wanted to write a book about the band. He had always been a firm believer in leaving the past in the past, but she was persistent. Plus, he couldn't say no. Not to her.

They met in a park near the coast. They chatted about life, what she was doing, what he was doing, and it was the general consensus that all was good and well.

"So, where should I start?" he asked as she hit record on the camera.

Julia stepped back from the camera. "Just...tell me about Y/n."

He paused, caught off-guard. And then, he smiled. "This might be a while."

EDDIE: It's not all bad anymore. I got time with her. I'll always wish I had more, but the time I got...it was great. It was the best time I've ever had. But I was able to move on, meet someone new. I think about her every day, and I always will, you know? A person like Y/n...that doesn't leave you. And Jesus Christ am I grateful for that. Julia...I'm really glad you're doing this. Your Aunt Y/n would've loved it.

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[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

~*~

1. A) Itmf fics where wwx is actually a servant. B) Or has a specialized skill that is not cultivation related, possibly one he's known for?

1A)

The Myrmidon by Basingstoke (E, 33k, wangxian, NHS/WWX, LXC/JGY, major character death, graphic depictions of violence, underage, WWX raised as a servant, spiritual weapons, gusu summer camp, Flirting, they're young, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Behavior, War, WIP) sadly this is probably never going to be finished, but the WIP is great on the concept of wwx actually being raised as a servant to the jiang household

~*~

2. Itmf any fics that readers of this lovely blog absolutely adore. Their favorite fic, and please tell us why! :D Did it have beautiful writing? A plot you think about even ages later? Introduce a new idea or change ur mind about a rare pair? Was it a tearjerker, or make you laugh till you cried? Did it make you warm and fuzzy to read, or scare the bajeezis out of you? Let us know! :D

The Bunnies and The Roomba: A Love Story by Nikki373 (T, 6k, wangxian, modern, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Siblings, Siblings Try and Are Trying, College/University, 1 if by phone; 2 if by text; 3 if by mouth, Kisses, Romance, Falling In Love, LXC is the eternal captain of the good ship Wangxian) I adore The Bunnies and the Roomba by Nikki373. It's a hilarious and sweet story that I believe is hugely under-appreciated.

The Fifth Type of Non-Contact Force by Caixx (Not Rated, 83k, WangXian, Modern AU, High School, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Fluff and Humor, Actually Somewhat Canon, Mutual Pining, Horny Teenagers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Non-Graphic Smut) this fic has been on my mind a lot lately!!! i love the yearning and exploring the complexities of their relationship in this setting. i also just love the way the author's prose

ruined me with your regard by laallomri (T, 46k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Introspection, Epistolary, it is not all letters but there are quite a lot of letters, Discussion of Canon Events, Pining) there's so much lyricism and elegance and emotion and I keep going back to it every time I need it.

Keep Holding On by abCEE (M, 316k, JYL & WWX & JC, wangxian, canon divergence, demonic cultivator JYL, YLLZ JYL, yunmeng siblings dynamics, role reversal, ghost general WQ, sunshot campaign, angst w/ happy ending, established relationship, accidental baby acquisation, PTSD) I’ve always LOVED roleswap AUs, and this one is the most in-depth one for mdzs. I’ve always loved reading WWX in JYL’s role just because I have the inner need to see him doted on and loved like she is, and this has all of that. Even past that, everyone in this fic is very fleshed out and all of the arcs still follow the og mdzs timeline, but have just enough divergence so it’s fresh!

~*~

3. Itmf wwx and wicked musical crossovers. Esp anything that uses/has the vibes of the song "no good deed goes unpunished"

it's not *technically* a fic, but I think the asker would enjoy this song parody

~*~

4. pretty sure this answered this before, but i couldnt find it for the life of me. im looking for fics where jiang cheng (usually its him) makes wwx be forgotten or erased from the timeline and things just go downhill from there. if its bashing or at least not friendly to the other characters its preferably

The Way It Wasn’t by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

5. hello and thank you for all that you do. i was hoping you could help me with the itmf post and share some fics of wei wuxian’s core getting restored, perhaps with a focus on dual cultivation being the cause of it? and if none come to mind then what other fics handle the restoration of wei wuxian’s core well and stand out?

🔒 Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 117k, WIP, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

these colours fade for you only by doodlebutt (T, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Golden Core Transfer, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, …eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Mutual Pining, like really unreasonable amounts of pining, Slow Burn)

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence) WWX meditates his core back, not realising he's actually taking his own core back from JC

Golden Core Reveal / Golden Core Fix-It Comp

~*~

6. Hello Mods! 😃 for ITMF I was wondering if there are any fics that

A) have LXC be angry at JGY for everything that happened/he did, or just let LXC be angry at JGY

B) do something with WWX being the Yunmeng jiang head-disciple, like focusing in on that or it being a plot point or something like that

C) show JYL and WWX being close and spending time just with each other, - I can't really find any where get to do that without JC being there and while I like Yunmeng trio I would like to see them have a bond independent of him

thanks! 😃 and have a great day!

6A)

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) in 12 moons and a fortnight verse, there's this lovely scene (and I belive it also is recurring addressed through the series to various degrees of lxc dealing with how he feels about jgy and what jgy had done) where lxc *spoiler alert* has a rebellious breakdown and starts slashing up the Lan rules with his sword *end spoiler*

There's a fic that I can't find yet, its short (tagged angst) where lxc hurts himself with his sword in guanyin temple as leverage so jgy doesn't hurt wwx. he's either angry or cold toward him iirc

6B)

Check out "First Disciple WWX" under The Untamed fandom here

Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) (Link in 6A) literally the opening premise of 12 moons and a fortnight is based around the training that wwx received as the first disciple. He was always intended to be jc's second in command - who could even lead the sect in his absence or injury etc

🔒 Heart's Courage by RighteousInAdversity (T, 19k, wangxian, WWX & WQ, NMJ & WWX, WWX & Yunmeng Jiang Disciples, WWX & WN, Lotus Pier, Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, Golden Core Destruction | Golden Core Melting, WWX has a Golden Core, Genius WWX, Jiāng Family Critical, not Jiang family friendly, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, BAMF WWX, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon JC Characteristics, Jiang Family Has A Redemption Arc, WWX Still Leaves Lotus Pier, not YZY friendly, Bad Parent YZY, not JC Friendly, As for JFM and JYL, not Bashing exactly, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia)

6C)

it's a long road but we're not alone by Stratisphyre (M, 62k, wangxian, JYL & WWX, LWJ & LJY, LJY & LSZ & JL & OYZZ, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Parenthood, Grief/Mourning, Family Feels, Reunions, Golden Core Reveal, Getting Together)

Atlas by Folderol (T, 2k, JYL & WWX, JYL & YZY, JYL & SL, JC & JYL & WWX, Child Neglect, Metaphors for living life with a cultivation disability)

~*~

7. Hi!! for itmf, could i ask for ppl's fave canon dynamics authors? (self-recs very welcome!!) i was advised to avoid untagged E-rated fics but then i feel like i'm missing some great fics, so i'd love some help! thank you!! 🙏🏽💙

hi! i asked for 7, and i didn't wanna over-explain, but since it was asked, maybe you could add this to the itmf to clarify, if it's not a bother? 😅 thank you

i do mean top lwj and bottom wwx (only because sometimes the other dynamic can get a little ooc, which is fine, put the blorbos in situations! but not what i'm looking for currently), but /also/ canon dynamics for me means exploring while keeping their personalities: lwj being mean and bitey and awkward, but respectful when it counts, wwx being bratty but confident and enthusiastic. both dom & helpless waif wwx are interesting headcanons rather than canon to me. (also cnc/breeding kink r nice but not obligatory ofc adskjkfs)

tl;dr basically i've been 4+ years in this lovely fandom, and i feel im still not done appreciating the thoughtful way mxtx writes the characters and their dynamics, literally none of her MCs or MLs can be called 'typical' in BL standards

these authors do mostly tag their works but to be sure: 🔒kizukatana, diamondbruise, and saltyfeathers are some of my faves

~*~

8. i’m in the mood for fic where wwx is a talisman genius! @efavs

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 712k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) This is absolutely *the* fic about WWX being a talisman genius

🔒 Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 117k, WIP, wangxian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

💖 Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) his main invention is an array but talismans too

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9. For itmf, does anyone have any recs where folks treat wwx gently? Thanks!

🔒 Instead by apathyinreverie (T, 27k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, like self-indulgently so, by way of dark(er) gusu lan, manipulative elders, but in a good way, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, of sorts, not Jiang friendly, not really gusu lan friendly either, not particularly friendly towards anyone really, aside from wangxian of course, Cultivation World Critical, Sunshot Campaign, Fluff, Politics, Courting Rituals, possibly implied mpreg, Genius WWX, Talismans, No demonic cultivation, but wwx is still the lynchpin of the war, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ) (link in #11) depending on your definition, instead (in #11) counts for #9 as well?

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10. ITMF fics where jiangs are actually a family. Like not that they're only fam in name and are living together like in canon.

The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX & JYL, modern, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, LWJ is a confused rabbit owner, nielan are married, nhs is: xoxo gossip girl, Custody Arrangements, engagement, Confused WWX, WWX voice: if i'm the one with the kid why are you suing ME for child support?, LWJ kills his own love life in the worst way, Happy Ending)

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11. Hi! For itmf, does anyone know of any fics where JC and LWJ find WWX in Burial Mounds after Wen Chao throws him in there but before WWX learns to conduct resentful energy? Like, they scoop him up and rush him to healers and WWX never goes down the single plank bridge?

🔒 Instead by apathyinreverie (T, 27k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, like self-indulgently so, by way of dark(er) gusu lan, manipulative elders, but in a good way, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, of sorts, not Jiang friendly, not really gusu lan friendly either, not particularly friendly towards anyone really, aside from wangxian of course, Cultivation World Critical, Sunshot Campaign, Fluff, Politics, Courting Rituals, possibly implied mpreg, Genius WWX, Talismans, No demonic cultivation, but wwx is still the lynchpin of the war, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ)

Hope Dangling by a String by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives, angst w happy ending, hurt/comfort, psychic bond, telepathy, communication, emotional/psychological abuse, jiang family feels, lan family feels, canon-typical violence, canon-typical politics, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing) I'm not sure if this counts or not for 11. Lwj saved wwx just a few days after he's thrown in the burial grounds, but wwx still learns demonic cultivation. He's never alone though, and has support from lwj and his family

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12. Hi!! Is there any fic where Wy is indeed Jfm's illegitimate son?

leading tone by silencemostofall (G, 32k, WangXian, Modern AU, Soulmates, with a lil twist, Eventual Happy Ending, lesbian wq rights, Music, Orchestra, platonic and romantic pining)

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13. For your next itmf I’d like to find fics that focus on wwx’s kindness. It can be any setting except a/b/o. I just want to read stories where we see his kindness and generosity shining through.

Thanks for all your help.

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14. Are there any fics in which wangxian are in military? @constellationdks

囍 | a ghost wedding by sweetlolixo (E, 11k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Ghost wedding, Pining LWJ, Ghost Groom LWJ, Corpsefucking in the most romantic way possible, Angst with a Happy Ending, Non-Explicit Sex, Love at First Sight) probably not quite what OP wants, but LWJ is technically military in this fic

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15. Explicit ITMF! I recently reread the incense burner extra and I would just love to read some more stories where wwx is already soft and open without prep because of their everyday! Thank you lovely mods and reccers (novel dynamics only please!)

To Know, To Be Known series by cqlorphan (E, 38k, wangxian, Cock Warming, Multiple Orgasms, Marathon Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aftercare, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, let LWJ get railed agenda, LWJ Learns Some Things about himself, sex tears, gratuitous use of names, Begging, Kink Discovery, Post-Canon, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Switching, Light Bondage, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Let wwx get tied up but also let lwj railed, Repressed LWJ, and his journey to sexual abandon aided by, Inventor WWX, Cock Rings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Dildos, Rimming, Edging) a treat really this entire series, mentions of u what u asked for AND lwj being soft and open w/o prep as a bonus

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16. hello! are there any fic recs or lists about a Lan Sizhui Sect Heir? thank you! @mexicantransman

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17. Does anyone know of any WangXian Sentinel/Guide aus? Sentinels are kind of like superhumans with heightened physical senses, and Guides are like empaths and/or mind readers. The two usually bond with and balance each other.

Hyperprosexia by malkinmalkout (E, 192k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Sentinels & Guides, Sentinel WWX, Guide LWJ, Empath LWJ, Slow Burn, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, WWX POV, LWJ POV, Tags Contain Spoilers, Telepathy, Marriage, outsider pov, they have a kid, Telepathic Sex, Rough Sex, public exhibition, breath play, Rimming)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[project-sekai-facts]

Sorry if this spoils you um... TSUKASA FOCUS!! What are your thoughts on what might happen? Based on the event description and then bunny plush being w tsukasa in the untrained.. im inclined to think because he's been cast as a minor role, he's kind of. like. What if i cant cause many smiles because of where i am.. and then meikos like you silly goose. you're the brightest star in someones universe and the bunny is there to remind him . AUGHH. AUGH

dw daichan already spoiled it on the stream last month lmao. Oh this event looks so interesting and frankly!! it's perfect for tsukasa's character arc!!! sorry about the excess of exclamation marks i'm excited about the possibility that people might finally understand him after this event and finally free me from writing analysis posts about him haha.

him being a minor part is literally what he needs to improve his acting. he's always either the lead or a major character, taking a step back is like another slap of realism for him and honestly, it might even be better for him than the challenges he's faced before when he struggled with lead roles. because he can't always be the lead, that just isn't a possibility. no matter how good an actor is they will not be the lead in everything they star in. he's pushed his limits to get lead roles before (Torpe, Rio, also the secondary lead Bartlett), so i think approaching a minor role is going to be a whole new experience for him.

I'm especially interested in the fact he's tasked with making the character feel real because we all know what that means: some good old fashioned Tsukasa unpacking his emotions. we don't know yet exactly what this minor character is doing, so i can't really make any guesses as to what is meant to feel real about it since we don't know their motivations and conflicts yet, but i get the feeling it will play into the fact that Tsukasa got the minor role, like how Rio played into his weaknesses and Torpe connected to his younger self.

As I said, Tsukasa is pretty much always the lead or some significant role. In this scenario as well when what he’s trying to do is improve his acting, such a minor role could feel like nothing. I think those feelings (be it annoyance or disappointment or whatever it may be in the story) are somehow going to play a part in how he has to make such a minor character feel real.

Also I think one of the aspects Tsukasa struggles with most is understanding the characters he plays. With Torpe he couldn’t relate to him and therefore struggled to play the role because he couldn’t get his head around how the character should act. With Rio he struggled too, and tried to replicate some of the character’s struggles in real life to help him try and get into the mindset of the character. But those two were MCs, a minor character with three lines is a whole different story because they don’t have an arc. However, all characters in a good story will have some sort of motive and you will be able to tell what that is from only a few lines. Good dialogue should be able to tell you a lot about a character. I think that’s what Tsukasa is going to learn in this event. Minor characters are not irrelevant even if they don’t contribute to any major plot points. All the characters in the world of that story are real people with individual lives and thoughts and feelings.

And to steer this away from me talking too much about screenwriting I think a minor role as you pointed out could be a hit to his desire to make people smile. Because who cares about a character with three lines? The hero makes people smile, not a forgettable background guy. The forgettable background guy won’t mean anything to anyone, he won’t make anyone smile, and he’s not a star.

Also the preview and title I think will play into these insecurities and lessons. He can’t be the lead every time, he can’t always be the big star of the show. However he can make a small role into a highlight, and even if he isn’t the frontman, there will always be people who will view him as the star of the show regardless, like Saki (Usa-chan) and WxS, and he can at least make them smile.

[brokenhardies]

DESCENDANTS PLOT BUNNIES

so i was inspired by @daughter-of-melpomene to make some official summaries of my descendants plot bunnies/story concepts! its mainly linked to the brat series, but also has a pair of stories that have been living in my head for a while

Keziah, daughter of Emperor Kuzco and Empress Melina, Carlos ship, Isabel Merced FC. The protagonist of the brat series, member of the Auradon High Drama Club and a loudmouth gossip with a flair for the dramatics. Due to being next in line for the throne - and not wanting a similar situation to what happened to Kuzco to happen - Melina begged Adam to bring Keziah into Auradon, in spite of her lineage not being recognised there. Keziah sees the VKs arrival into Auradon as a great way to get more members into the fledgling drama club, and winds up picking Carlos completely by coincidence mostly due to him being the one to bump into her first. Later, due to her minor knowledge on potions thanks to Yzma, she recognises that the VKs have basically drugged Ben, but chooses to keep it a secret to keep Carlos safe (not realising that she has a major crush on him and he has a similar one on her)

Kendra, daughter of Kenai and Nita, Anna Lambe FC. A member of the Auradon High Drama Club and Keziah's best friend - mostly due to both feeling like outcasts to the culture of Auradon due to coming from outside of the area. Kendra was accepted into Auradon as a compromise from King Beast, after Kenai and Nita discovered that Kenai's brother Denahi was going to be sent to the Isle of the Lost as punishment for trying to kill Kenai - basically Kendra was brought to Auradon in order to keep Denahi from being classified as a villain. Kendra is - by technicality - a 'bear-shifter', being able to transform at will if she needs be thanks to the influence of the Great Spirits on her family line, but has enhanced speed and strength in her humanoid form and can communicate with animals, a trait that works quite well with her job working at the rescue shelter that Duke comes from. Kendra's also an activist, constantly running into problems that she wants to fix, and is one of the main voices trying to get other VKs off of the Isle of the Lost due to her own experience nearly losing her uncle

Neveah Maldonia, daughter of Tiana and Naveen, Kiana Maderia FC. Brought to Auradon on a 'princess' scholarship from New Orleans, Kiana is a member of the Auradon High Drama Club and is close friends with Keziah and Kendra. She's often the voice of reason between Keziah's overdramatic nature and Kendra's stubbornness, however, she can be a bit of a workaholic, much like her mom. She's well aware that she was mostly brought in due to her dad's role as prince of Maldonia - which she isn't due to him basically giving up the throne to his 6 year old younger brother to live in New Orleans with Tiana - so she makes up for it by working her ass off, doing multiple extracurriculars, and even being cool with Keziah bringing in a VK to the Drama Club as she treats it like a 'rehabilitation program' that will be good on her resume. She's also really good at baking, and tends to bring in treats for the club - which was how Keziah pretty much bribed Carlos to stick around

Hadley Hearts, daughter of the Queen of Hearts, Mal ship, Madison Davenport FC. Older sister of Red and eldest daughter of the Queen of Hearts, Hadley was brought to the Isle as punishment by her mother for not wanting to become Queen of Wonderland. Much like her sister, Hadley is rebellious and free-spirited, wanting to get a chance away from her mother to become stronger and more independent, minus her mother's smothering nature. While on the Isle, Hadley befriended Uma and Mal, actually dating Mal for a few years until they had a nasty break up that also involved Harry Hook. When Mal returns to the Isle in order to save Ben from Uma's crew, Hadley's feelings for Mal start to come bubbling back to the surface, in spite of the fact that she and Ben are 'on a break'. They get back together, with Ben instead getting with Uma between Descendants 2 and 3

Ruby Hood, daughter of Robin Hood, Evie ship, Luca Hollestelle FC. Originally from the Sherwood Forest, Ruby and her parents were forcibly moved from their fey home to Auradon when she was a child after Belle and Beast were married. In spite of feeling displaced from her original home, Ruby befriended Ben and the pair became quite close, with Ruby acting as Ben's bodyguard and confidant in the lead-up to his coronation. She's very mature and kind-hearted, with a love for animals and mischief, often throwing little, harmless pranks in order to pass the time, and frequently getting away with them due to Ben vouching for her. Unfortunately, this hits a slight snag when she meets Evie, and because her way of showing love is relentless pranking, she tries to get Chad 'out of the picture' by humiliating him, which many blame on Evie due to her being a VK. They eventually start dating, mostly due to Evie publicly calling out Chad for using her for her intelligence instead of actually being in love with her, and them getting together at the coronation

Taglist

@darth-caillic​ @sterling-writes​ @divatoxx​ @reirvival​ @arrthurpendragon​ @foxesandmagic @eddysocs @superspookyjanelle (want to be added or removed? send an ask or a dm!)

[literarybaby]

challengers inspired rp plots!

hi everyone! i am not sure if i am alone in this but i have been having deep, deep challengers brainrot. so i thought i would take the opportunity to share some tennis-themed/challengers-inspired plot bunnies with you. with a couple of these, i’ve had the absolute pleasure of playing out or at least, brainstorming with some of my current writing partners.

all titles are from the soundtrack - ty trent r & divider is by @cafekitsune

some of these have more darker and mature themes, but can be adapted to work at any level. all of these can be adapted to work with any pairing as well. and probably sport — if you squint. 

if you’re interested, feel free to reach out about any of these if you'd like to write together.

also feel free to take them and make them your own! enjoy!

𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘

muse a is a young rising star in tennis (think tashi in the first half of the movie). they are on everyone’s radar as the one to go down in history and join the ranks of the past greats. adidas already has them in a campaign. and soon, they’re probably going to turn their whole family into millionaires. however, during a game, they suffer a traumatic and freak injury which looks like it will derail their entire career. muse a is devastated as everything they’ve ever wanted or worked for will come to an end. enter muse b — an older, successful surgeon — who decides to help a depressed and lost muse a. fixing broken body parts is part of their job and they are able to do so easily. even kinder, they support muse a through their recovery and physical therapy. unbeknownst to muse a and everyone in their lives, muse b has been grooming them — giving them treatment beyond what a medical professional should offer. this leads to muse a entering into a relationship with muse b where the power dynamic is totally whack. with muse a recovering and being back on their game, they feel they totally owe it all to muse b’s god hands and want to pay them back with any means necessary. 

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 / 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

muse a and muse b are the perfect tennis doubles tennis partners. so much so, they have corny nicknames like fire and ice. they are best friends, practice partners, and have long shared history. optional: muse a can be more a technically perfect player and muse b is pure, raw talent. unbeknownst to muse b, muse a has been hopelessly in love with them the entire time but is in the closet/in denial. when muse b starts to cluelessly date someone (optional: muse c if you want mumu), muse a is jealous and their friendship slowly starts to deteriorate with muse b frustrated and confused why this is happening. skip a few years, muse a and muse b find themselves on opposite sides of the net as the biggest rivals in tennis. years of resentment, avoidance, and pressure have culminated in this moment. should they repair their relationship? will they ever talk about it? maybe there’s still a chance or will someone end up hurt again?

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐗 𝟏𝟎

muse a is an older and seasoned tennis veteran. truthfully, they aren’t as good as they used to be and are on the verge of retirement. they decide that this tournament(possibly set at wimbledon?)will be their last and they’ll retire after regardless of the outcome. but during, they meet the young muse b — someone spunky and maybe they have a bad temper like john mcenroe — but they’re not like anyone else muse a has ever met. they challenge them. they intrigue them. however, this romance comes at the worst time as muse b desperately wants to win the tournament and this is a bit of a distraction. so should muse a and muse b embrace the distraction and get caught up in the whirlwind of things, despite knowing love means absolutely nothing in tennis. 

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑

muse a is a down-on-their-luck tennis player. they’re definitely not a ranked player or really famous at all, but this is all they know. they’re still good, and believe they have in them to win a grand slam or a major tournament, despite their age and more importantly, their financial situation. sometimes they are sleeping in their car if they can’t afford a motel on tour, but sometimes, they get even more desperate — which is how they found muse b, on tinder, swiping right on literally everyone until they get a match. muse b thinks they’re going on a date with a professional athlete but little do they know, muse a is flat broke and is only with them for a hot meal and a warm bed. should muse b figure this out? or maybe as they go on the date, both muses feel a connection — does that mean muse a will come clean with their intentions? or will muse b be saddled with supporting muse a’s broke ass? 

𝐋’𝐎𝐄𝐔𝐅

muse a is a young and naive tennis player from a small town/country. they come from a nice, wholesome family. being a professional athlete was sort of by chance too, so they have absolutely know idea how to navigate the pressurized world of fame and fortune. fortunatelyor unfortunately, they get help from muse b — a cut-throat, smart, and cunning sports agent. muse b is able to set muse a up with an fancy apartment, good sponsorship deals, hefty contracts, and soon become the voice of reason for muse a. muse b is determined to guide muse a to the big star lights and away from their country mouse past. it gets to the point where muse a can’t do anything without muse b. will muse a ever get away from muse b? or will muse b abuse their power? could involve isolating them from their family, controlling their spending, and even baby-trapping them.

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐑

muse a is retired professional tennis player and decides become a instructor at a fancy, schmancy country club. they decided to take this job not because for the love of the sport, but to further themselves as the club is crawling with unsuspecting rich people with good connections just waiting to be made. muse a meets muse b, a naive, rich kid who takes tennis lessons. they get on really well and decide to bring muse a to meet their family. through a series of carefully crafted lies, muse a and b get closer and closer until they’re in a relationship. muse b starts asking their parents to get muse a better job, better clothes, and ultimately, a better life. but what happens when someone or something from muse a’s past comes rearing its ugly head and threatens to expose and break this carefully plotted dream life? does muse a confess to muse b, or does muse b dump them? or is muse a crazy enough to keep lying to keep muse b and their perfect new life theirs for good?

"𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖"

muse a is a professional tennis player who seems like they have the perfect life. they’re winning, rich, have a partner who is possibly their coach, and even a child. little does everyone know, it’s not all roses on the inside. their partner is cheating on them and it’s really throwing off all the other parts of their life — especially their game. so they decide to cheat too, with muse b — someone who isn’t part of this crazy tennis world. immediately, it’s steamy and exciting having an affair. it really jumpstarts muse a’s attitude and they start winning again. when muse a’s partner (could even be a muse c) finds out, they could hardly care less and is happy that something is finally getting muse a motivated again. but muse b isn’t satisfied with just being a secret, not when they play such a pivotal role in muse a’s life. maybe they decide to expose muse a and their partner? or maybe they threaten to leave? or maybe they try to navigate this as a threesome?

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐓

muse a is a successful, professional tennis player. they’re winning tournaments. they’re living their best life on the ATP/WTA tour. being on the road is great but is a bit lonely sometimes despite all the cool sponsorship parties and galas. dating is too hard too, as it’s difficult to stay connected within all these time zones and from all these far away places. instead, they use an expensive celebrity escort service and meet muse b. muse b can quell the sting of loneliness on the road and it’s low commitment — only calling them up when they’re in town. however, this last time leads to muse b getting pregnant accidentally. now muse a has to decide if they want to step up to the plate and be a parent, and if they do, how do they explain how they met their partner to the press?bonus points ifmuse bhas slept with other tennis players and their services are not a well-kept secret.