#agent marigold au

[minecraftfan11onscratch]

@icryink’s Cringetober 2023

Day 26: All Edge, No Point]

The initial idea was to draw how Myla looks like in Agent Marigold's "Thanatophobia" scenario but, eventually opted for a post-story doodle!

Myla is just... wondering if she's still who she thought she used to be after all that happened.

[heres-to-all-that-is-mine]

Thanks for the reminders! Heeeere’s your scheduled Double Agent AU scribble :)

;)

[eightmakesonebraincell]

[fic rec mlist] member x reader | hyung line

main mlist | prev (ot8) | next (member-specific cont)

only general themes and tags are listed - please read through the author's specific tags and warnings

both sfw and nsfw fics are included. minors please dni with nsfw fics and respect the age restrictions put into place by the writers (suggestive, smut, and trigger warnings are highlighted in red)

🩶 favourites

white love | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: iceprince!hongjoong x fireprincess!reader, fantasy, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 24k

there seems to be an eternal winter set in wonderland caused by the ice prince hongjoong, and you- the fire princess who has been laying low for a while- set out to end it. what you don’t expect is to find him freezing to death trapped in a tower, and as you save him, you find out that the mages in wonderland are uprising to end the original bloodline- titled prince and princesses. creating a small team with your childhood friend seonghwa and a water mage yunho, you and hongjoong fight against the threat to your life while uncovering secrets and finding unexpected friends and love.

horizon | @pxedpiper

genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, trigger warnings

length: 22/22 chapters [completed] - 79.0k

once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

feverish | @hwaightme

genre: fluff, sickfic

length: oneshot - 2.4k

as you come down with a cold, hongjoong is right there to lift you back up again, be it with soup, song, presence, or all at once.

nighthawks | @the7thcrow

genre: designer!hongjoong x writer!reader, angst, fluff, meet-cute

length: 5.9k

you share a night, a cigarette, and a sobering conversation with a beautiful stranger. a glimpse of normality for you troubled nighthawks.

marigold | @yoongiseesawmp3

genre: fratboy!hongjoong, fluff, smut

length: oneshot - 12.7k

your best friend and the bane of your existence is probably the love of your life, and you’re not sure how to tell him. your mutual friend seonghwa knows about your true feelings for hongjoong, and he does everything in his power to get you two together. one halloween party, one rainy car ride and one emotional rollercoaster later, you finally get a taste of what you’ve been waiting so long for. 

project d | @setsugekka

pairing: hongjoong x reader, yunho x reader

genre: street racing au, ex!hongjoong, angst, smut, trigger warnings

length: oneshot - 20.5k

with a nice enough guy who’s just a little too rough around the edges for your parents liking, and a best friend who put you up to him (albeit a tad unknowingly), surely things can’t possibly get more complicated for the local illegal street racing squad. except, between racing for pink slips and bragging rights, there’s emperors leader, jeong yunho.

daisies | @the7thcrow

genre: summer camp au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 11.0k

one last trip. that was what you wanted. to let yourself dream of your childhood sweetheart one final time, before closing that chapter of your life forever. however, the last thing you expected was for him to actually be there.

bodyguard | @baekhvuns

genre: mafia!au, romcom, angst, smut

length: oneshot - 37.8k

in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

one day at a time | @sorryimananti-romantic 🩶

pairing: seonghwa x reader, yunho x reader

genre: soldier!au, fluff, angst, suggestive, trigger warnings

loving seonghwa was like loving the moon. loving yunho was like loving the sun. the story of how you fell in love with seonghwa, one of the king’s trusted agent, married him, had a daughter and then lost him forever- and how you fell in love with yunho- also the king’s trusted agent, seonghwa’s best friend, a loving father to your daughter, and a husband who gave you enough space to grieve seonghwa, and enough time to make you fall in love with him.

length: oneshot - 18.5k

pov: you're a stereotype in an 80s classic | @atozfic 🩶

genre: strangers/enemies to lovers, highschool!au, badboy!au, angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 22.2k

a look into the life of six students who find themselves stuck in detention… for the entire school year.

this world | @hwaightme 🩶

genre: biker!seonghwa, fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, action, smut

length: oneshot - 16.2k

caught between the past and present, you search for a new beginning in night city as a mechanic at outlaw customs. how will a fateful encounter with seonghwa, the leader of the blue birds, help you feel alive?

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes | @chaseatinydream

genre: badboy!au, fluff

length: twoshot - 9.8k

by the intervention of fate (namely choi san), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed.

pirate!seonghwa | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 13k

nil author synopsis

i'll be with you | @cheollipop

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 1.6k

a long, dreadful day at work calls for a hot shower and sleep, perhaps a few hours of crying as well. what you don't account for, however, is the man who wouldn't let you go through that alone.

royal library | @nczennie

genre: royalty!au, angst, fluff, smut

length: oneshot - 10.1k

you turn to look at seonghwa, “thank you for keeping my secret,” you smile at him and he returns it, quickly standing to bow, “of course, your highness. your secret is safe with me”.

addicting kitten | @tenelkadjowrites

genre: smut

length: 6/6 chapters [completed] - 34.3k

when your car breaks down and your phone is dead, you are stranded alone on the way home. however, when seonghwa, the intimidating figure you see at the club often, comes by and offers you a ride, you cannot help but feel as if you might be walking into the lion’s den.

playing with fire | @ateezmakemeweep 🩶

genre: sugardaddy!hwa, fluff, angst, smut

length: 5/5 chapters [completed] - 121k

when your scholarship falls through during the last semester of your college career, you were, admittedly, on edge.  overwhelmed by the prospect of delaying your graduation to save up thousands of dollars or work a second job or, per the suggestion of your roommate, sell pictures of your feet.  you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father.  that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year.  but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of. 

lights out | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: neighbour!yunho, angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 7k

nil author synopsis

promise | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: prince!yunho x princess!reader, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, suggestive

length: oneshot - 23k

‘i’ll be a friend to you, if nothing more’ is the promise yunho, prince of wonderland makes when you, the princess of eden find yourself in an arranged marriage with him to avoid war. however, war approaches and eden sides with the enemy. will you and yunho stick with each other? will you find love in this arranged marriage?

one day at a time | @sorryimananti-romantic 🩶

pairing: seonghwa x reader, yunho x reader

genre: soldier!au, fluff, angst, suggestive, trigger warnings

length: oneshot - 18.5k

loving seonghwa was like loving the moon. loving yunho was like loving the sun. the story of how you fell in love with seonghwa, one of the king’s trusted agent, married him, had a daughter and then lost him forever- and how you fell in love with yunho- also the king’s trusted agent, seonghwa’s best friend, a loving father to your daughter, and a husband who gave you enough space to grieve seonghwa, and enough time to make you fall in love with him.

come fly with me | @hwaightme

genre: pilot!yunho, fluff, angst, slice of life

length: oneshot - 9.0k

aerophobia - the fear of flying. and clearly, something that your boss has no idea exists. while you curse the universe and the metal bird, your handsome seatmate ponders if it is possible to redirect this flight, from gwangju, to your heart.

convenience store chances | @ohmyamor

genre: exbf!yunho, fluff, comfort, trigger warnings

length: oneshot - 2.5k

it’s the typical story of right person, wrong time. but maybe an unfortunate situation might turn the wrong time into the right time.

you're enough | @cheollipop

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 2.0k

with the soft scent of baby wipes following him, yunho helped you stand back up to face the storm within your mind.

out of the woods | @sluttywoozi

genre: rom com, friends to lovers, fluff, smut

length: 3/3 chapters [completed] - 9.2k

you’ve been driving yunho nuts lately and he just can’t figure out why. he hates being annoyed with his friends, so he’s been avoiding you. it’s difficult to stay away when you’re locked together in a cabin with seven of your closest friends, though.

complete relaxation package | @beahae

genre: massage therapist!yunho, smut

length: oneshot - 4.8k

you’ve been neglecting your self-care for a while now so you decide to treat yourself to a massage. you deserve it! you didn’t realize the guy you booked would be so attractive though.

lovers in the night | @atzfilm

genre: sugar daddy!yunho, exes to lovers, fluff, angst, smut

length: oneshot - 11.3k

just out of your college with a freshly printed degree, you set out for a job that would fit your somewhat high standards. after a brief scroll through a sugar daddy website and a meeting set-up, you sit across from the one man you didn't expect to see — jeong yunho, your ex-boyfriend and apparently, a millionaire looking for someone to spoil.

[newly added] your hand | @smileysuh

genre: tattooist!yunho, smut

length: oneshot - 6.6k

it’s a classic parlor love story: big tattoo man finds new receptionist cute, but he can’t talk to her until something totally avoidable happens that brings them together out of his own sheer stupidity- that kind of shindig ;) 

prince!yeosang x servant!reader | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 4k

nil author synopsis

badboy!yeosang | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: angst, fluff, smut

length: oneshot - 18k

nil author synopsis

ideal woman | @the7thcrow

genre: gang!au, romance, angst, suggestive

length: oneshot - 10.5k

at the only bar in town where the lines drawn between different gangs becomes blurry, you spot your intellectual rival involved in one of the biggest underground organizations the city has to offer. responsible for the recent heist on your warehouse, as well as the death of multiple of your gang’s own members, he’s understandably considered someone that you should not be talking to. you buy him a drink.

the most lonely creature | @atzfilm

genre: serpent!yeosang, fantasy, fluff, angst, smut

length: oneshot - 35.9k

finding a yeouiju in the forest brings terrors unlike you've ever seen– in the shape of a water god

siren | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: siren!yeosang, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 27.8k

yeosang is a siren and you're a siren-hunter. he may have lost his voice and you may be immune to a siren's call, but he has you bewitched anyway. on your journey together to find the sirens who killed your parents and took his voice, you make new friends, find yourself cursed and turning into a siren, and fall for yeosang. he proves time and time again that he's not the monster you thought all sirens to be as he helps you come to terms with yourself and find the person who cursed you.

last updated: 24 march 2024

[rosietrace]

「 Target Acquired 」

⊱────────────────────⊰

Central Character(s) ; 『 Camilla Marigold, “Gorgon” 』 | 『 Mitch Reiss, “Regressor” 』

Others ; “Thomas Cresswell”, Background Character™ /j

Mentioned ; Victoria Shard | Jiyoon Lockhart |

Pairing(s) ; Camilla & Mitch

AU ; Secret Agents

【 All Ocs belong to their respective owners and will be credited at the end. 】

Synopsis: “No one has to know.”

Warning(s): attempted SA that gets interrupted, potentially ooc, character death, ambiguous relationship (?)

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

⊱────────────────────⊰

⊱────────────────────⊰

“Are your eyes set on the target?”

A scoff, on the other end of the intercom. Mitch was ready to speak again, before Camilla finally replied after a momentary silence.

“What do you take me for?” she questioned, walking through the crowd of guests; seamlessly sneaking her way into the building.

“Overestimation,” Mitch shot back. Sitting atop a building not too far from the one Camilla was in, he used the scope of his sniper rifle to keep his sights on her. “You can be too confident.”

“I'm not!” Camilla snapped, speaking her truth a little too loudly. After a few questioning looks from the other guests, she cleared her throat.

Point proven, Mitch thought silently, choosing not to voice his thoughts; who knows how Camilla would react if he did.

“Just-” She began making adjustments to her earpiece, masked to look like a single golden ear cuff.

“Tell me about the target.”

Mitch raised an eyebrow, even when he was well aware that she wouldn't have been able to see it. “You didn’t listen to the debrief?”

“You think I listen to Victoria?” Camilla chortled, her hand lining the walls to place hidden cameras in between the painted over imperfections.

“Calling the Chairman by her first name.” He wasn't even the least bit surprised. What was there to be surprised about?

Camilla rolled her eyes, not replying to him— she'd rather not look like a crazy person for appearing to conversing with herself, thank you very much.

Annoyed as he could possibly be… Mitch still exposited as much as he could remember from the details given by the Chairman— wealth, power, connections.

“Thomas Cresswell. Known gamesman, presumed black sheep of an old money family with roots to the aristocracy; and a real… charmer.”

Mitch remembered what he could; the details that were given, the description of the man's appearance, and the way the Chairman crossed her office. Heels clicking against the smooth floor's surface, circling a table carrying a chess set of black obsidian and white agate encrusted pieces.

But on the topic of description of appearance…

“Dark brown hair. Cherry wood brown, green eyes,” Mitch kept his description short. Concise. Sharp. “Tall and slightly lean, but a bit broader on the shoulders.”

Gliding around the room in the most impractical stilettos possible, Camilla placed listening devices and hidden cameras in different — not so noticeable — areas of the room.

Under the table, in the hidden cracks of the light yellow walls pretending to be platinum gold; and that wasn't even getting into all the times she's snuck some into the articles of clothing of guests she'd bump into.

Several garbled, frantic and scripted apologies later, Camilla had placed listening devices in a number of guest's clothing.

Credit where credit was due… Mitch could at least see that she wasn't incompetent.

While not incompetent, inconspicuous was something Camilla was not.

No matter the persistent efforts of the disguise department, she wanted the attention and the spectacle that came with her lack of conspicuousness; her choice of clothing reflecting that insistence.

Deep, emerald green of presumably designer silks; heart shaped neckline with a bodice akin to a halter; a shawl of white fur, and slits at either side of her legs, reaching all the way up to the midsection of her thighs.

Camilla lived for spectacle, and she was everything an intelligence gatherer shouldn't be— Attention grabbing.

Mitch scowled, his sights set on keeping its focus on Camilla. He didn't hate her… but it was hard to say if he liked her or not, either.

Simultaneously good, he thought to himself, and bad at her job.

“If you're done taking the scenic route… it'd be best if you start looking for our target.”

She took in every detail of the room in her line of sight, no stone would be left unturned; there was no rest for the wicked.

“Necessity is the number of invention,” Camilla quoted, golden hair shining against the light of the crystal chandeliers hanging above, “there but for the Grace of God go I; patience is but a virtue.”

Hardly impressed, Mitch responded, “The usage of proverbs is unnecessary.”

“That's what you want to think.”

“This is an operation. Not a lesson in English literature.”

Camilla mouthed what he said mockingly, flapping her hand around and using her deepest register of voice. Far too dedicated in mocking him, Camilla was.

Not too long after, Camilla let out a yawn, emphasizing the boredom she so wanted Mitch to hear for the remainder of this operation.

“Could the target come any sooner? I have a masseuse waiting for me at the spa…”

This woman… “Worry less about your appointment and more at the operation at hand.”

She grumbled. “Seems like you make it part of your routine to have a stick up your ass, you killjoy…”

“What was that?” Mitch challenged.

He felt the feigning of innocence in a smile he couldn't even see. “Nothing.”

“Just keep to your station, Mitch,” Camilla's voice was inconsistently low, irrigated. “You're acting like I'd sabotage this operation just for existing too loudly…”

“With the way you present yourself, I wouldn't be too shocked.”

She was going to throttle him when this was all said and done.

Looking for Cresswell was, unsurprisingly, a lot more work than Camilla had originally bargained for. It felt like the man knew his every move was being watched, listened to. That he was keeping Camilla and Mitch on their toes while they tried having surveillance on him.

It frustrated Camilla almost as much as it displeased Mitch.

“You know what— Why don't you come down here? A girl needs a little help, you know.” Camilla could survey a room and tell Mitch the target was secure, ripe for the picking; she couldn't survey an entire banquet venue.

Mitch felt his eyes narrow. A subconscious decision, on his part. Every ounce of his body told him that she didn't need his help, that she was playing a role in an intricately designed mask— the way she's always been.

… But there was also the part of him that could partially understand her inner frustrations.

“You don't need my help—”

“And what if I do?”

Is that another tease? Another lie? Mitch couldn't tell. When it came to a woman like Camilla, there was no telling what went on in her mind.

Uncharacteristically, the other end of the intercom was deathly silence. So sullen that all Mitch could hear was the sound of her breathing; eventually cursing at himself after imagining her breathing in and out of her chest.

Then there was a sigh. And Camilla's voice returned.

“Fine, then. No rest for the wicked.”

⊱───────────────⊰

“Found Cresswell.”

Camilla might've made an ‘effort’ in keeping her voice low, but it definitely didn't feel well-established. The sheer inconsistency made Mitch grit his teeth.

She went around the room, cozying up to a number of guests and getting them comfortable enough to get them to answer anything about Cresswell. Even with all the listening devices and hidden cameras throughout the room; Camilla believed it didn't hurt to take some extra measures.

Find Cresswell, take him someplace in the sights of Mitch's scope, and neutralize him. No matter how much Camilla wanted to question Victoria for wanting Cresswell alive, she couldn't go against the words of her Chairman.

Right before Cresswell could take his leave from the circle of guests he'd been cozying up to, Camilla had seamlessly hooked her arm around his.

“Why hello,” a charismatic intonation emitted from the way Cresswell had greeted Camilla's unexpected presence.

She smiled as sweetly as she was capable of, even if it hurt her cheeks. “Hi… Thomas Cresswell, yes?”

“So you've heard of me?”

“You could say that. I've heard quite a bit.”

“Well, well…” for someone who just became acquainted by an individual invading in his personal space, Cresswell acted in stride.

Making a vague wave to a nearby waiter, Cresswell took two glasses of champagne from the tray and handed one of those glasses to Camilla.

Wanting to play her part authentically, Camilla took a sip. She squirmed at the taste, but didn't make too exaggerated of a face. Not in front of Cresswell.

Speaking of Cresswell, Camilla — and Mitch — took notice that his arm had wrapped itself comfortably around the small of her back.

Camilla didn't seem to mind, but Mitch… he felt a wave of unease wash over him.

For reasons his feelings couldn't quite explain, he didn't like the way Cresswell kept his colleague close. Too close.

Camilla, ever the actress worthy of an award winning trophy, looked pleasantly neutral over the sudden brush of contact. Perhaps it was better that Mitch didn't go down and intercept them— she was doing her job, why stop her?

Because it felt wrong, he began thinking, because it could send the operation off kilter.

Because Cresswell shouldn't be as close as he currently was.

Not that Mitch could do anything about it. Not from this distance, and not even if he went down there himself and intercepted whatever flirtatious back and forth they were having.

It wasn't his business on how Camilla felt about Thomas Cresswell’s charms.

⊱───────────────⊰

Camilla successfully brought Cresswell up to the rooftop of the building, looking out at the city.

From Mitch's line of sight, Cresswell still kept his hand at the small of Camilla's back. He felt his hands tighten around his sniper.

Jiyoon would've asked a multitude of questions. Maybe, maybe not; all Mitch knew that he was being unfavorable tonight. Uncharacteristic.

Unlike himself; and above all, making him uncomfortable with his current feelings. Like he was wearing skin that didn't belong to him, skin that was too loose— or too tight.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” He heard Camilla engage in more smalltalk with Cresswell from the intercom.

A brief pause came, and the two were rewarded for the patience in the silence that followed. “Yes,” Cresswell said in a drawl. “Most certainly…”

Mitch stopped. He heard it, heard the sudden hitch of Camilla's breath. And through the scope of his gun, he could see why.

Cresswell's hand wasn't at her back, not anymore. It lingered there, yes, but it lowered— and now it went to her hips.

Lower it went. From her hips, to the upper area of her thighs.

And Mitch knew where Cresswell's hands were heading for. It was wrong, disgustingly wrong.

So why wasn't Camilla retaliating? A question Mitch asked over and over again in the back of his mind.

Camilla didn't retaliate. She didn't try and stop Cresswell. She only stood, idly by, letting it happen with a wide-eyed stare directed at nothing at the ground below her.

“But…” the bastard had the audacity to keep running his mouth, now standing tortuously close to Camilla, his free hand holding her in place; his lips close to her face. “I have something more beautiful, right here.”

If Mitch didn't know any better, he would've thought she was unaffected by the way Cresswell's hands wandered. But that look…

Shoot him, a sudden thought came to mind. It repeated, over, and over, and over.

Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him…

Mitch's grip on his gun tightened, an indecisiveness taking over his entire being. Body, soul, mind; all three fighting on what he should make of the current predicament Camilla was in.

But one thing's for certain— both his head, and his heart, told him to shoot.

That's what he did in the end. He pulled the trigger.

The initial plan was to tranquilize Cresswell from a distance; and once he was unconscious, they would've taken his unconscious body back to headquarters for interrogation with the Chairman.

However… Mitch, blind with nothing but the desire to stop Cresswell from doing what he was doing to Camilla — and any young women he'd get caught up with in the future — had made a last minute switch.

From tranquilizer, to silenced bullets.

Even from his distance, his line of sight was clear as the day that hadn't quite met them yet.

He'd blown a bullet between Cresswell's dark green irises, bits of his blood splattering onto Camilla.

Camilla stood stiffly, unmoving and unblinking even with the splats of blood on her face. And uncaringly, she ran a hand through her hair, and wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“... Mitch.”

“Yes?” Mitch answered, faster than he usually would have.

There a beat that passed before Camilla spoke again, maybe two. “... Get over here, we need to dispose of the body.”

The Chairman is going to be furious, was — more likely than not — a thought that lingered through both of their heads.

Unfortunately, that was going to be a problem for them in the future; they'll deal with that when they get back to the headquarters and Victoria, as well as Victoria's assistant, and Jiyoon, will be asking questions on why Cresswell wasn't with them.

Mitch made it to Camilla's side in record time, the sniper rifle used to pull the trigger between Cresswell's eyes strapped to his back.

At it again, he thought while examining Camilla. The blood on her face, the futile attempts at cleaning up, the lack of care on her face… she was pretending there's nothing wrong.

“Hey,” Mitch called out to her, a softness in his tone. Acting as if they didn't just throw Thomas Cresswell's limp body into the incinerator.

She stared blankly at him. Completely unlike her at all. “What?”

“Are…” Mitch didn't know how else to ask but to say it straight.

“Are you okay?”

Are we okay? He asked in the back of his mind, a small thought he quickly brushed off under his personal mental rug.

Camilla stared at him for an abnormally long time. Ever since they became partners for any and every operations assigned to them, she grew the questionable habit of staring at Mitch for extended periods of time.

But they never lasted as long as right now. From the corner of his eye, Mitch also saw her hand try to… reach out.

She then tucked her hands behind her back, seemingly catching her own wrist after a quick clear of her throat.

“I'm fine,” she tried to assure Mitch of that, quote on quote, ‘fact’. “More than fine, actually. What we should be worried about is the situation with Cresswell—”

“I don't care about Cresswell, right now.”

It only took one step on Mitch's part for their faces to soon be inches apart. Gently, his hands found their way to Camilla's shoulders, grasping at them.

“Cresswell isn't going to be a problem.” Mitch seemed far too sure about that. Perhaps even more for his own good. “The Chairman won't be a problem. Neither will her assistant, or Jiyoon, or any of her other executives.”

He stared at her — or rather, their eyes stared into each other; eyes blazing in righteous intensity that made Camilla's other hand place itself on Mitch's forearm.

Despite all the protests in his mind, he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers. And despite herself, she too, did the same for him.

And they both whispered. A mantra, a promise. A secret they'll both keep and bring to their graves.

“No one has to know.”

⊱────────────────────⊰

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Mitch Reiss — @authoruio

Camilla Marigold — Me 😈

Victoria Shard — Also Me 😈

Jiyoon Lockhart — @/authoruio

|| @starry-night-rose || @jasdiary || @nem0-nee || @fumikomiyasaki || @sakuramidnight15 || @twsted-princess || @hallowed-delights / @terrovaniadorm || @mystery-skulls-ghost || @absolutelyobsessedkiya / @twistedsongstressofstarz || @valse-a-mille-temps ||

[mysticarts]

Final thoughts (A Lackadaisy sequel au oneshot)

TW: RED COLOR PENICL THATS SUPPOSED TO BE BLOOD

You know, Carmen didn't like death.

In fact, Carmen despised death. Death took away things that where so important to her

Her mother, her plants, her hope. Death took all of those things from her. that's what Carmen thought, at least

So when Carmen survived a horrid beat down from marigold agents, withering on the ground in pain as Nia hurriedly tried to get Carmen up.... she couldn't get up.

Carmen didn't know why her body wasn't getting up. She needed to get up. She needed to calm down Nia.

When Carmen turned her head to the side, seeing Nia so distraught scared Carmen. Was her injuries that bad? Cause her body just felt numb.

"Come on, Mom! Get up......we're going to go to Luci....." Nia begged, her voice distraught as she put Carmen's arm over her shoulder and lifted Carmen up.

Blood was pouring down Carmen's face, but sadly it was her blood. Carmen, despite being in so much pain, still kept that bright smile she always had.

"Okay.....okay.....I'm okay Nia...." Carmen reassured, With Nia looking at her like she was insane, but nodding her head.

"Yeah.....You're going to be okay...." Nia agreed as she hurriedly walked down the streets with Carmen leaning on her.

Carmen didn't know why, but flashbacks, of her whole life, flashed in her eyes. And she knew at that moment.....that Death was going to take her. And her body accepted it.

Carmen hated death. She despised it. But this was life.

And you can't beat life.

I felt silly so I did this

Feel free to ask questions!

[frodothefair]

Modern day AU where the Fellowship are CIA operatives, Frodo and Sam sneak into Chernobyl to disable a thing, and Gollum is a radioactive mutant.

I actually kind of want to develop this. It’ll be a post-quest healing story, like Flowers of Mordor, except in the modern day.

Frodo joins the CIA and continues Bilbo’s work, and Bilbo retires to a remote tropical island.

Frodo and Bilbo have a mansion in LA. Sam is from a small conservative town west of LA, and works his way through college as their gardener. He witnesses something he should not have, so is recruited into the CIA as well.

Frodo’s skillset as an operative is that he is small (this is the real world, so he’s human, but petite much like Elijah Wood), can collapse parts of his body and contort himself, has good fine motor skills, is tech-savvy, and knows Russian, Ukranian and a couple of other languages. He has different code names depending on what nationality he is pretending to be - Fyodor Sumkin (Russian) or Fyodor Torba (Ukranian). He's also Theodore Sacquet if he needs to code French, but he does not do those as often.

Sam needs to learn Ukranian and Russian for the quest, so they put him in a room for 14 months and he emerges completely fluent in both. (This is an actual thing they do to agents).

“If anyone asks, we’re on a camping trip!” – “In Chernobyl????!!!”

Merry and Pippin are nepo-kids. Also CIA agents but are a constant liability.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli are agents who are actually good at what they do. Legolas really is a one-man air raid defense system. Aragorn gets a major promotion at the end.

Frodo sees some shit on the quest and comes back forever changed. He retires – as does Sam. Frodo proceeds to throw decadent parties at his estate and indulge in all manner of vices.

“Mr. Frodo, this isn’t you!”

Frodo’s ring sickness is radiation sickness, and PTSD.

Sam has a cute cinnamon roll of a younger sister named Marigold. She is a scholarship student at USC and wants to be a doctor. She comes to stay with them for the summer while doing an internship.

May be continued. Tag: lotr cia au

[starstrucksfnuniverse]

The hyperfixation is back in full swing... time for more headcanons :)

-8-Ball and Scratch both have black hair, although 8-Ball has one streak of white from stress. Sig's natural hair color is black as well, but he dyes it white

-The llama tattoo Brutus has on the back of his head came from him losing a bet several years ago. He has plenty of money to get it removed if he wanted, but doesn't see a point. In his eyes it makes him look more intimidating

-Adding on to an earlier headcanon of mine, Skye and Tina always cut their hair at the same time. Tina likes having her hair short, but if Skye ever wanted to go back to long then she would as well

-There is some sort of beef constantly going on between Midas and Tina (because their personalities are so different), but there's nobody in EGO that he actually hates. He just keeps his distance from others so that he doesn't get attached (too late. He already is)

-Catalyst sees Fade as her son/little brother figure. She was really the only person left who understood what he was going through with his rift powers, and it fell on her to teach him how to control them. While working together, he also helps to work with her on the fear of heights she gained after the Device

-Everybody is unnerved being around Hazard. She's just... not right. Everybody knows she's a clone of somebody else, and a violent one at that. It's not her fault she was created that way, but she doesn't seem eager to change either

-Toxin is definitely one of the more evil characters of this AU, but the one thing she will never do is hurt her children. She can't do anything if Chaos Agent messes with them, but if someone else does? That's her next lab experiment

-Skye was an orphan who was taken in by the Agency when she was 8. Whenever she had nightmares she would go seek out either Maya or 8-Ball and stay with them for the rest of the night. After Meowscles was born (he's only 6), she would go to him instead

-Jules' favorite color is pink, Sig's favorite color is blue, Chic's favorite color is purple (diversity win! All of them are bi)

-Marigold is just Midas from another dimension, and her version of the Yacht is still called the Marigold (self-love)

-Pretty much all of the Agency's younger gen came from some sort of bad background or childhood. However, they all eventually end up with some sort of good parental figure, and (most) get to live happily ever after <3

-Cameo and Ocean tried to host a karaoke night one time. Never again

[wyntersecret-a]

Main muse

Landon Bartholomew Wynter. journalist. het. fc: penn badgley 30-34 main. 32-36 film. 22-26 college. nights poet verse. beast boi verse. vamp verse. paranormal investigator verse. royal au. twin au.

Secondary Muse

Lance Tyberius Wynter. architect. het. fc: penn badgley 30-34 twin au.

Hub + Connection Muses

Veronica Allen. model. 33. bi. fc: teyonah parris

Daniel Baker. adult flm star. 32. gay. fc: david anders - @stvrlyte

Dawn Black. adult film star. former model. 31. gay. fc: kristen stewart

Kurt Burrows. historian & genealogist. 33. bi. fc: andrew west unknown half brother of Landon Wynter

Claudia Chen. actress. 32. het. fc: gemma chan

Lavinia Cortez. horror host. producer of toxic talk. actress. 27. bi. fc: sofia carson

Esmeralda Domingo. executive of diamond casino. 33. bi. fc: shay mitchell default gf of Landon in non ship verses

Emeline Entwistle. actress. 31. het. fc: blake lively

Tobias Fairchild. producer. majestic studios. 38. bi. fc: ed speleers

Holland Frost. dr of tech sciences, robotics & dna engineering. frost synthetics. 46. bi. fc: sarah paulson

Harold Graves. psychiatrist. 41. demi. fc: hugh dancy. Landon Wynter's therapist

Natalie Hill. lipstick gossip. tabloid journalist. 31. bi. fc: zoe kravitz former best friend of Jade Winthrope.

Susan Horowitz. ruby casino. businesswoman. 31. bi. fc: carlson young

Ophelia Keal. aspiring actress. socialite. 26. het. fc: tilly keeper

Mark Lansing. news anchor. film agent (hollywood verse only) 31. het. fc: chace crawford

Gloria Mancini. assistant exec. lipstick gossip. 30. het. fc: dakota johnson close friend of Natalie Hill

Cassandra Porter. boutique fresh cosmetics. influencer. yt beauty guru. 36. bi. fc: zazie beetz

Maxwell Rainier. town council. Rainier Farm. 54. bi. fc: michael sheen. father of Marley Jane Rainier Cypress Falls Resident @xwildheart

Miranda Royce. fashion designer. 29. bi. fc: nicola peltz daughter of Holland Frost - @godccmplex

Marigold Sinclaire. failed starlet. waitress. 34. bicurious. fc: amanda seyfried - american money plot @xwildheart

Brooke Stevens. kroq radio station. 24. bi. fc: joey king Cypress Falls Resident

Brett Sutton. radio dj. true crime podcaster. 31. bi. fc: jack quaid

Maya Tran. production assistant. cosmic vault. 35-40. bi. fc: maggie q

Jade Winthrope. forensic tech. 30. het. fc: shailene woodley

Florence Anton Wynter. novelist. freelance web writer. 56. bi. fc: michelle gomez

Request Muses

Joe Goldberg. bookstore manager. 31. het. fc: penn badgley - canon divergent in areas

Camilla Luna. oceanographer. ocean ways institute. 28. fc: lindsey morgan fiancée of Lance Wynter in twin au. (all interactions take place prior to her accidental drowning )

Hub & Connection muses are for established importance to Landon in his particular verses and/or have established things with other writers. Request muses are low activity but would love to see interaction. Only one is a canon but I write it my way and diverge. The other is deceased but still available for prior plots involving Lance.

[wyntertales]

CAST OF CHARACTERS :: MUSES EXISTING IN UNIVERSE

Lavinia G. Cortez. 28-32. horror television hostess. actress. fc: sofia carson connection: friend/colleague of Landon B. Wynter :: film universe

Esmeralda C. Domingo. 30-34. diamond casino manager. fc: shay mitchell connection: friend/default love interest of Landon B. Wynter :: most universes importance: original canon connection of Landon

Emeline P. Entwistle. 30-34. actress. fc: blake lively connection: canon ex girlfriend of Landon B. Wynter :: all universes importance: original canon backstory connection of Landon

Tobias S. Fairchild. 37. producer for majestic studios. fc: ed speelers connection: rival/colleague of Landon B. Wynter :: film universe

Harold E. Graves. 41-45. psychiatrist. fc: hugh dancy connection: therapist of Landon B. Wynter :: film universe; therapist of Lance T. Wynter :: twin universe importance: muse 1st created in 2015 & adapted/returned for new use

Natalie Hill. 31-35. tabloid reporter. lipstick gossip magazine. fc: zoe kravitz connection: frenemy. colleague. at Crimson Media

Susan Horowitz. 31. ruby casino. socialite. fc: carlson young connection: former high school & college friend-enemy :: main + various aus depending on plot importance: original canon backstory connection of Landon

Jackson N. Hunter. 38. detective. fc: andrew garfield connection: American Money universe. available for interaction outside this depending on plot

Ophelia Keal. 26-29. actress. fc: tilly keeper connection: colleague/costar at Cosmic Vault Productions :: film universe

Mark J. Lansing. 30-34. news anchor. film agent. fc: chace crawford connection: canon best friend of Landon B. Wynter :: most universes importance: original canon backstory connection of Landon

Camilla Luna. 31. oceanographer. fc: lindsey morgan connection: deceased fiancée of Lance Wynter :: twin universe importance: original canon backstory connection to Lance / available only in plots pre-death / not available for shipping

Marigold D. Sinclaire. 32. failed actress. waitress. fc: amanda seyfried connection: American Money universe. selective for interaction outside this depending on plot

Brett R. Sutton. 30-34. radio dj. true crime podcaster. fc: jack quaid connection: canon best friend of Landon B. Wynter ::  most universes

Michelle O. Woodward. art director. fc: jessica chastain connection: default fiancée of Lance Wynter  :: twin universe importance: not available for shipping

Florence L. Anton-Wynter. 52-55. mystery novelist. fc: michelle gomez connection: mother of Landon B. Wynter :: all verses/currently only around in beast + film boi verses & twin universe

PRIVATE MUSES:

Aiden Lucas Wynter. 22. college student. photographer. fc: felix mallard connection: son of Eloise Gray & Landon Wynter :: Eldon ship universe

Benjamin James Wynter. 21. college student. street artist. fc: christopher briney connection: son of Eloise Gray & Landon Wynter :: Eldon ship universe

exclusive to Landon + Eloise ( ELDON ) ship universe for @itsagraywcrld

TBD: muses not currently involved but will appear plots permitted + by timeline

Veronica Allen. 33. model. fc: teyonah parris connection: ex of Landon B. Wynter :: film universe

Claudia Chen. 33-37. actress. fc: gemma chan connection: nyu friend + original documentary crew member of Landon B. Wynter

Gloria Mancini. 32. media editor. lipstick gossip. fc: dakota johnson connection: friend + colleague of Natalie Hill :: all verses

Maya Tran. 35. assistant + executive of productions. fc: maggie q connection: assistant of Landon B. Wynter :: film universe

[nanamismoonchild]

→chapter 2: taking ass and kicking names 

→ pairing: demon! ot7 bts x rebel!poc OC named Afternoon

→ genre/au: science fiction, dystopian au, thriller, smut, fluff, angst, enemieis to lovers, enemies to friends.

→ chapter summary: A little looksy loo at the Facility, a brief mention of afternoon’s past, and maybe some ass-kicking

→ rating: 18+  

→wc: 5.7k

→warnings: mention of torture, mention of death, misuse of authority, sword-fighting, mention of bruising, please let me know if i missed something

→  author’s note:  thank you to @hesperantha​ for betaing for me. please. im going to hire you, you made this chapter so much better. I’ve seen a bunch of people do this but this fic relies heavily on comments and asks! 

if you would like to be tagged for this fic, please send an ask or comment below!  Or you know, dig a tunnel into my home. 

The file weighed heavy in her hands, shaking more as each second passed while  she thought about her answer. Saying no would cause problems. 

Insubordination  was an automatic expulsion from the Facility.  Chief could easily report Afternoon as a rogue agent and the higher ups within the Facility couldn’t  care less about what happened to Afternoon or any individual agent. They wouldn’t send her to Disturbia but they would send her back into the unruly streets of Plais. It would only be a matter of time before she was caught by them.

Saying yes was the easiest choice and the safest.  It would ensure she continued to be the hunter, not the hunted..  If she said yes, she could have time to plan everything and have the resources of the Facility on her side. Her team would give her the motivation that was needed to infiltrate Disturbia and save their two friends. She’d need it.  

She knew Chief would force her to carry out this mission one way or another. Whether it was by force or by choice, Afternoon would have to go. The will to save people that weren’t just part of her team but  her friends was overwhelming. 

Afternoon took a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling heavily. it. Her team waited in anticipation for her answer. Chief sat behind her desk, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She knew what Afternoon’s answer was going to be. 

“Yes,” Afternoon finally said flatly.  She heard her teammates’ collective gasp. 

“Good, you’ll leave-”

“When I  say so,” interrupted Afternoon. She met Chief’s gaze, shoulders back, and hoped her voice wouldn’t tremble.   “Sending me into Disturbia is one thing, but sending me in there with no preparation will only get me killed. And then neither of us will be able to save Lilith and Marigold.”

Chief’s eyes flashed, and Afternoon thought she saw a hint of a crimson around her irises. Must’ve been her imagination. 

“Afternoon, this mission requires you to take immediate action. How long are you saying you need to prepare?”

“Long enough to make sure I do the job right.  Lilith and Marigold are capable of keeping themselves alive for a couple of weeks.”

“You get three days, Afternoon.”

“A week.”

“Five days.”

“Two weeks.”

Aliah pinched her team leader as she saw Chief’s hands twitch. “Afternoon will take five days! And only inquire about more if she needs it.”

Afternoon nodded in thanks to her co-captain. 

Chief folded her arms across her chest and was silent. The only sound in the room was the steady hum of the fan in the corner of the room near the window.  

Afternoon glanced out the window at the purples and oranges painted across the sky. The sunset usually made her happy--a signifier that she had survived the day and gave her hope that she would survive the next as well. This time, though, she couldn't ignore the growing dread in the pit of her belly.

“Five days it is,” Chief finally stated. “No more and no less. You have full use of the resources that the Facility has. Money, weapons, food. It is all at your beck and call.”

“That was the plan anyway. You didn’t think I was going to hell on Earth with the clothes on my back did you?”

“That’s how Lilith and Marigold went. So why not you?”

“They were captured with their equipment. I know for certain that their gear wasn’t taken away. Disturbia wouldn’t be what it is if no one had protection.”

Chief swore under her breath, but backed down. “Your main goal is to bring my girls back. I don’t care if you escape or not. If they come back alive  and tell me,you sacrificed yourself for them, I’d dance on your grave.”

Afternoon's hand seemed to raise of its own accord. Unbidden, the folder flew through the air toward Chief's head.  The important papers that had laid out the details of the ill-willed mission flew around the room, whichTaylor would later say reminded them of paper airplanes.  

Team Ace gasped as their normally cool-headed leader crawled across the short desk and snatched their Chief by her collar. For a brief second, Aliah thought she saw both of their eyes flash a deep purple. 

Afternoon growled, “Let’s get three things clear.  First, I am not your puppet.  Second, I am doing this of my own accord, not yours. I am choosing to save Lilith and Marigold and bring them back to Team Ace. And third, I plan to come back and whoop your sorry ass in front of your daughters for disregarding the policies of the Facility. You used your mind-control on my team members and injured two of them. I have lost respect for you, Chief.”

And with that, she swept out of the room, an aura of anger trailing after her, leaving her team members in utter shock.  

The Facility was stationed in an old university that had been abandoned by its students, faculty, and staff during The First Year.  

The administration building, which was located to the north of the campus, housed the Chief’s quarters along with the meeting halls. The Facility’s founders were said to be in there as well. However, according to Taylor, they were never around. 

Behind the administration building was the mess hall, which was just one of the many dining halls that students had once used. It was rare for anyone to eat there now, since the Facility had decided to use some of its considerable resources to incorporate mini-cafeterias into each of the dorms. Instead, the mess hall was mainly used for announcements for all of the teams.

A walk and a half down the hill was the library and the various buildings that previously housed the colleges. They were used to teach the kids who hadn’t finished high school and those who were selected to receive special training or were tapped for leadership trained here. 

There were three dorms in the south of the campus, each housing multiple teams. There was the  biggest dorm, The One Hundred, the closest to everything dorm: The Middle,  and the smallest was The Three Hundred which is where Afternoon and her team live.. The old faculty of the university had thought it was amusing.  Floors were occupied by different teams.  The One Hundred could easily hold forty teams, The Middle held thirty, and The One Hundred was only able to hold ten.  Eighty teams of eight people made up six hundred and forty agents of the Facility, all of whom were “rescued”off of the streets or enticed by a so-called reward the Facility would give them. 

To the east, across from the railroad track, was the recreation center. The Facility’s recruits preferred to call it the combat gym.  This is where the teams sparred with each other. Simply stepping into the gym meant you had to be on guard. People were usually hiding by the doors, ready to swipe an unsuspecting person. 

 It was where Afternoon was headed after the unfortunate meeting with Chief. 

She needed to blow off the anger by beating up a poor rookie who knew no better than to challenge her.  Was it the best way to deal with her confusing emotions? Probably not.  But, if she was going to Disturbia, she might as well get as much practice in as she could.  

Rock music by some band that had disbanded long ago blared through the speakers on the walls.  

The first floor was mostly for people who wanted to chill and do a couple of squats or yoga. However, Afternoon had been a victim of becoming a pretzel when she let her guard down once. She avoided the area, so she kept going. 

The second floor was a typical gym. Rollers, dumbbells, kettlebells and balls, treadmills, bikes and other equipment  littered the floors in an organized chaos. Afternoon had seen someone almost get crushed by an exercise ball. 

Her preferred floor was the third floor. It was primarily used for practice with swords–one of Afternoon’s favorite weapons to yield. The room was the size of a basketball court and was layered with blue foam floor mats.  The windows were covered by blackout curtains, which made the room darker than what it should have been when handling dangerous weapons. 

However, it was part of their training as agents of the Facility. Their main goal was to infiltrate Disturbia. And Disturbia was midnight in a forest form. 

There were already a couple of teams inside the building waiting to unleash the day’s stress on some poor unfortunate soul. Afternoon nodded to a few of them even though in just a few minutes, they would become nothing but objects at the end of her sword. 

Walking towards the back of the room, she opened the closet door that stored the weaponry. Falchions, sabers, claymores, katanas, and some Afternoon didn’t know the name of were for her choosing.  Her favorite, though, was the double bladed sword. They were barely bigger than daggers, perfect for two-handed combat in close quarters. With them, Afternoon could could dance around two opponents and slice her way through an enemy line. 

Grabbing one for each hand, she closed the closet door with her foot. She gripped the fine cloth that kept the swords together and gave them a twirl one at a time. 

Perfect. 

Sam, the lookout and paramedic for the third floor, blew his whistle. He was a tall, lanky blond man. He wore a crisp white shirt and khakis with too many pockets. His smile refused to wane even as the bulkiest of the agents stood in front of him. He made eye contact with each person as they all filed into the space, green eyes lingering on each face for at least a second or two.

“Alright, peeps. You already know the rules, but for the Facility’s sake I’ll repeat them,” he took out a piece of paper from one of the many pockets decorating his khaki’s. “Number one: your blades are all rubber. So there shouldn’t be any killing,” he says jokingly with a smile on his face. “Number two: if your opponent is downed, move on.  Continuing to hit them will result in a foul and you will be put on dish duty for the week. Number three: remember that Disturbia waits for us all, so have fun while you can, but remember this is how you will fend for yourself.” He put it away after that happy note and smiled brightly at the agents in front of him. “Good luck out there. And newbies–” 

“What. Sam?” An unfamiliar voice rose over the crowd as one of the rookies called out. “We just want to get out there and kick ass!” “I know you do,” he laughed. “I was just going to say watch out for Afternoon. She has her babies with her.” His green eyes found Afternoon’s brown ones and shone with glee. “ You may begin. ”

“Who the hell is Afternoon and who the hell names their child Afternoon ?” The rookie kept going.

Afternoon kicked their knee, sending them to the ground. Then she spun her left hand’s sword and flicked it across his back. Had the sword been metal, his back would’ve been sliced to smithereens. The rubber would just leave him with a nasty bruise on his back and an even worse one on his ego. 

“I am Afternoon! And my momma named me after her favorite time of the day.” 

She heard a wild scream from behind her and used the sword in her right hand to stab backwards. A yelp and a thud made her smile. 

She spun around, keeping her arms elongated, thwarting any more sneak attacks.  A brave rookie tried to jerk their claymore lazily in her direction. It was a weapon designed for close quarters combat, and the heftiness was obviously disagreeing with them. They were barely able to pick it up after that so-called jab.

She glided over to them and swept her right hand upright, sending her opponent reeling back. 

“You broke my nose!”

“A lot more would have been broken had it not been for this rubber, rookie.”

She turned to face an older agent, Sarah, Sam’s twin sister. The same blonde hair and green eyes. Like Sam, she wore a smile that would stay there until she died.  Unlike Sam, though, she was sculpted muscle.  And the muscles were real and useful.  

“Afternoon! How was your afternoon?” She laughed at her joke. 

“Very funny,” Afternoon began to circle around Sarah.  Her weak spots were usually hard to spot. But she had them. “But it was shitty thanks to Chief.”

“What’d Chief do?” 

Sarah pulled something out of her pocket, a wicked  blade that Afternoon silently thanked was rubber. 

“Gave me an impossible mission but I couldn’t say no.”

Lunging herself at Sarah wouldn’t be a smart move. The blade that Sarah  used was meant for close combat and was easy to maneuver unlike her twin blades. However, Afternoon had the advantage of having two weapons, which would (hopefully) get her another hit in. 

She swiped at the blonde who easily jumped back, and used the weight of the swords to launch herself for another attack.  

Sarah round-about kicked Afternoon into one of the walls. Pain ricocheted up the left side of her body. 

“You can always say no to the missions. The Facility works through consent, you know this.” 

Afternoon shook her head as she planned her next move.  “Not this time.”

“Hm,” Sarah fingered the blade in her hands. “Mind telling the class what it is then?”

“Classified.” 

Deciding that she had no choice but to get into close range, she threw her left sword to the ground and rushed at Sarah and tackled the older girl to the ground. Sarah must have been anticipating it though, since she managed to send Afternoon flying back into the wall. 

She thought she heard something crack this time. 

“Damn!”

Sarah laughed and came over to help Afternoon.  “You’ll never beat me, Noon.”

Afternoon grunted, holding her arm close. “One of these days, Sarah.”

The fight between the two girls had lasted no more than a simple conversation. It was the longest Afternoon had ever held her ground against Sarah.

By the time Sam had called the fight officially over, Afternoon had been healed and given a “you’ll get it next time” pat on the back.  Sarah had completely wiped the floor with everyone, but Afternoon held to the pride that she lasted the longest. One of the guys that was seated next to her in the infirmary had his head almost knocked off. 

Sam sashayed into the room with his sister by his side. She looked like his personal bodyguard.  Not an inch of sweat was on her forehead. 

“Alright, champs. You all got beat to oblivion. But you did your best.”

Afternoon counted down the seconds before he launched into his regular speech. 

“But, rookies, the field is going to be worse. The enemies won’t have rubber or plastic swords. They might not even have swords. Our goal at the Facility is… what?”

“Take control of what we lost,” everyone said. 

“Exactly. And the only way to do this is with everyone prepared. What I saw out there was terrible and I will be letting your chiefs know that every single one of you will need extra training. So be prepared to see your schedules get a lot more hectic. Got it?”

“Got it,” everyone said.  

“Good. Now go eat dinner!”

The infirmary filled with a mild chaos as everyone filed out of the room.  Afternoon wished she had waited for her team, so they could have all walked back to the dorm together.  They had more than likely gone to another sparring class. 

Instead, she had to walk alone with her thoughts.  It was fine though. The night was warm and the walk wasn’t a long one. 

Besides, she needed to think. What would she do in five days? What did she need? Who did she need? If she knew her teammates well enough, they had snatched up the folder she had thrown, gathered all the papers, and read through it.  They would know that she could bring one person with her. But who exactly would it be?

Her stomach growled and she forced herself to move quicker. She hadn’t eaten all day, and the energy for the fight had only been a result of her anger at Chief.  Her thoughts went back to when she thought her leader’s eyes had changed colors. 

Crimson. 

Her only knowledge of eyes changing colors was with one of them. And he wasn’t allowed to set foot on this campus. Not without alerting everyone.  But Afternoon knew better. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. And if he wanted to use her respectable leader, then he very much would if it meant getting under her skin. 

“Shit.”

If it was him, then she just fell into his trap.  Hook, line, and sinker.  She should have known, but now it was too late. Besides, she needed to save her teammates and friends. 

“Afternoon! Where did you go?” Aliah was barreling towards her. Behind her was Taylor, Aria, and Holly. Jack was probably already stuffing his face. 

“Went to the rec. Got my ass beat by Sarah again.”

Taylor giggled, “You’re never gonna win that fight are you?” “Of course she’s not. Sarah always converses with her and Afternoon falls for it every single time.”

“Aria, shut up. And I’ll have you know that I lasted an entire conversation this time, boo.”

Holly joined in with Taylor’s laughing, making Afternoon’s cheeks warm.  

“Y’all leave the poor girl alone,” Aliah chastised. “Besides, she needed it after the bullshit Chief put her through.”

“I needed an ass-whooping?” She asked playfully.

Aliah simply smiled and patted her captain on the back.  “Let’s go eat. We gots a lot to chat about don’t we?”

The cafeteria was large enough for twenty round tables that could sit eight. Yellow walls and white lights greeted them as they made their way into the building. Their cafeteria was filled with the chatter of their dorm mates.  The smell of french fries and burgers wafted through Afternoon’s nose and she couldn’t wait to get a bite of a veggie burger loaded with everything on it. Her stomach began to growl harder and louder as she made her way closer.  

The group gets in line and feels their plates to the brim before finding a place to sit. Their usual table was near the exit to the elevators (courtesy of Aria who loved having a quick escape to her room).  Jack was already sitting down with two burgers on his tray.  

“Lucky bastard,” Holly remarked disapprovingly. 

Jack must’ve heard her since he said, “I got my ass kicked early so I could get the first pick.”

Afternoon nearly swallowed her whole plate and chugged down her soda. Stress and skipping two meals had made her hungrier than a horse. 

“Girl, if you don’t slow down-”

“Gonna get another plate. I’ll be back.” 

“I knew this was going to happen,” Holly said. Her accent and the food in her mouth making it sound like she was saying “Aif knewf dist twas goanna to hawwen.”

“Same,” Taylor handed their burger over to Jack, who accepted it gleefully. They hated burgers, but adored fries so their plate was loaded with extra portions from everyone

Afternoon rolled her eyes and went to make herself another plate.  However, Aliah wasn’t budging.

“You’re going to be sick if you eat another plate so soon. So sit down and let it settle.”

Afternoon grumbled but sat down. She may have been Captain, but Aliah was co-captain. And she had been picked for a reason.  

“We read through your file. We think you should reconsider your answer.” 

Oh. She wasn’t prepared for that. 

“Why?”

“It’s dangerous. You might not come back. And then Marigold and Lilith will be damned right along with you,” Aria huffed. She wasn’t one to curse. 

“Yes, it is dangerous, but I made a decision-”

“Without us,” interrupted Jack. He  wiped his mouth clean before continuing, “You made a decision without your team.”

“We know you can take one of us with you,” Holly pointed out. 

Afternoon felt a terrible churning deep in her belly as the food she'd eaten so quickly threatened to revolt. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of dinner, in a cafeteria full of other teams. 

“I’m not taking any of you with me. Like you said, it’s dangerous and-”

Cries of “What the hell and “What the fuck” rose from her team. It attracted the attention of a nearby team named Team Bee, one of the members actually getting up and coming over to their table to assist.  Just her luck. It was Leah. The one person who she was going to have to consult for this mission. 

Leah was a short Latina with wide dove-gray eyes and a delicate build,  but everyone quickly learned she wasn’t to be trifled with. She was quick-witted and used her small frame to get into the smallest of places.  She kept her hair short and her clothes plain. She was her team’s best covert operations agent. If they needed her to disappear in and out quickly, then she could be. 

“What’s with all the yelling, folks? Afternoon, you need help?” Leah asked, assuming position.

“No, Leah,” she kept her head down, feeling a headache coming along. “They’re just upset about a mission.”

“What’s the mission? Perhaps I can help.”

A flashback to a time where she and Leah were on an impromptu team flooded through Afternoon’s thoughts. It almost made her smile. 

“Actually, Leah, sit down. We need to fill you in.”

  After telling Leah the experience with Chief and the contents of the files, Leah sat back and stared at Afternoon, who was doing the same to her. Her brown eyes met Leah’s gray ones. 

“Wow.”

“Wow is correct.”

“You really have to go back there?” Aliah’s eyes roamed back and forth between them. “What do you mean by ‘go back’”

“I was the one who recruited Afternoon to become an agent of the Facility. I saw her one day out on the street, hiding behind a trash can. I knew who she was instantly. Now she’s just a few years older…and a few years wiser…”

It was the First Year. The year they had come up from below the Earth and decided they wanted to take over. They became the law of the land. Judge, jury, executioner.  They loaded those who didn’t agree with them into vans and sent them to their own version of Hell.

Disturbia. A forest so deep and so dark that you could lose sight of yourself there. But it’s not just a forest.  It’s a  jail in the form of abandoned woods filled with horror. They don’t kill you. That would be too easy. 

They make you work for your survival. They make it hard. They make it rough. 

Afternoon was only ten when she and her parents were loaded into a van one day. Away from the home she had grown up in.  Her parents had committed an act of treason. They had protested against this new government. 

As soon as she arrived, they were separated by people who couldn’t care less about the tears falling down her face as she reached for her mom and dad desperately. 

She was placed in a run-down cottage with other kids around her age and some much older. The cottage was supposed to only housed about six people at the most. Afternoon had a feeling there was more than that. The living room was filled with bunk beds and mats. Afternoon had to squeeze her way through the hallway to get to the bathroom. The bathroom was, thankfully, clean and well taken care of. It had cold running water that she used to clean her face and wash her hands. The toilet seemed to be working too. 

Across from the bathroom was a small kitchen-a stove, a fridge, and one countertop. Noodle packs were sitting on the floor in crates. A girl barely older than Afternoon was watching over a large pot of boiling water.

She introduced herself as Leah, wand turned out to be thirteen but so short Afternoon had mistaken her to be around her age. .  She had been there months before Afternoon arrived and told the girl a few things she knew as she cooked noodles to feed everyone. 

She pointed out where the guards like to watch over them. Taught them their names and their abilities. 

“Don’t ever say their names aloud. They are demons. And demons go where demons are called.”

Afternoon made sure to remember that. 

Leah introduced her to some of the other kids in the living room as they handed out bowls.  There were fifteen children in all. All without parents. Taken away by monsters that wanted pure dominance. 

It made her angry. 

“We’re going to bust out of here soon. And we’re going to need you.”

“What about our parents?” Leah patted Afternoon’s afro. “We don’t think of them anymore.”

“Why not, Leah? We’re going to need as much people power if we want to escape. You said it yourself!”

The other kids smiled sadly at Afternoon. She hated it. The smiles felt like pity. 

“Afternoon, there are things here that I hope you never find out,” Leah started. “And what happens to parents is one of those things.”

Afternoon was afraid to ask what happened. Her emotions were already all over the place from being separated. From the joy she had lost. From the love she she missed already. 

Leah walked her over to a bed and laid her on it. 

“Sleep. And then we’re getting you right back out of here. OK? You don’t need to worry.”

“Shouldn’t I know the plan now?” “You’re pretty damn smart, pequeño.” 

“Yeah, I am. Now tell me the plan,” Afternoon demanded as she fluffed her pillow–it was as hard as rock. 

Leah had been there longer and clearly knew the ropes already, but it was obvious that she and Afternoon were on the same page in terms of wanting to take action, neither one of them content to be left to their fate.

The group of parentless kids each told their parts of the plan. Afternoon soon found out that they were planning on a riot. 

“Where are you going to get a bunch of people to even riot? There’s only ten of you, plus me, which makes eleven.  That’s not exactly a distraction.”

Lee Jimin answered her question. He was one of the kids who had been here for a year.  

“Some of us aren’t leaving. I won’t. Spent too much time here, and I know newbies are still going to be coming whether we escape or not. Someone has to be here to teach them the ropes.”

“That’s bullshit!” Leah pinched Afternoon’s cheeks. “Language!”

Jimin smiled sadly at the little girl. “She’s right though. It is bullshit. But if it gets kids like you out of here and back into the world, then I don’t mind.”

  After some gentle (and not so gentle) coaxing, Afternoon settled under the scratchy blanket they had given her and fell asleep.  She dreamed of her mother’s warm arms and her dad’s chocolate chip cookies. She didn’t know if she would ever see them again. 

When she woke up, it was the same as it was before she fell asleep. Dark and cold. Uninviting.  Her mom had named her after her favorite time of the day. When the sun had settled in the sky and was preparing for the evening. The middle of the day where your day could turn around for the best or the worst. 

The other kids were already gone, probably preparing for their parts of the plan. They had let her sleep in. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Leah sang as she handed Afternoon a granola bar. 

She took it and unwrapped it, eating as she spoke. “Is it really waking up if the sun didn’t come up?”

“The sun never rises or sets here. We only have the moon, and even that can be an enemy,” Leah sighed. “That’s why we gotta get you small ones-” “I’m not small!” “You are to them.” Afternoon finished off her granola, a little sad that her breakfast was so meek. “Are they really demons?” Leah nodded, taking Afternoon’s wrapper and throwing it into a small pile of trash near the door.  Afternoon took the time to really look at Leah. Even though only a few years separated them in age, Leah seemed infinitely older.  Since Afternoon had gotten here, she was always frowning. Always in thought.

“Well. I’ll give you a moment to get yourself together. The sink has running water, so you can clean your face. And there’s some clean clothes in the drawer. I’ll be back in a few. I hope you’re prepared for the shitshow.”

  She wasn’t prepared. There were screams. Everywhere. They had been running for what seemed like hours. Most of the kids had given up earlier. It was only due to Leah and Jimin that she was able to carry on. 

They were close to their escape–Afternoon could feel it on her tongue. 

But they were close, too. 

She could hear them muttering amongst themselves. Trees rustled as they breezed by. They were going to catch up with the group. And who knew what would happen to them if they were caught. 

It was at this moment that Afternoon knew what to do. She had only been here for a day whereas most of the children had been here for the year. Afternoon didn’t have anywhere to go without her parents. And her parents were still here. She could feel it in her soul. 

She broke out of the group and ran in a different direction. She sped through the trees, getting a few scratches from branches and a couple of leaves in her mouth. Nothing was going to deter her. 

She could hear Leah and Jimin yell for her. She prayed they wouldn’t come after her.  

Please escape. I’ll see you guys soon. 

She ran until  she came across a clearing. The moonlight cast an eerie glow in the center of the field.  The grass was still as if it were anticipating Afternoon’s move. Or as if it sensed what she was going to do.  

Afternoon remembered what Leah had told her in the kitchen. 

“You call one of their names. They all come.”

She took a deep breath and steeled herself before calling their names. She couldn’t change her mind now. The fate of the others rested on her shoulders. And she’d be damned if the other kids couldn’t make it out. 

She screamed as loud as her lungs would allow her. “Kim Namjoon!”

Nothing happened for several moments. But then, the hairs on the back of her neck started to rise. Her skin started to itch. And her body froze.

She could no longer flex her fingers or even blink.

Fear rose within her, but she tamped it down with the comfort that the others would escape.  

It was only a pregnant second before she saw them. 

They were young, handsome men. Men her mom would have swooned at, and men her dad would have cracked a beer open with.

Right now…right now their eyes were set on her big, innocent brown ones.

Taking the stairs had never made Afternoon so grateful. She was able to be rid of the awkwardness that would have come with the elevator ride to their floor.  

Her body was tired and her emotions were frayed. Thinking back to that fateful day had left her feeling hollow. 

The hallway to her room seemed to stretch into a thousand miles. 

“Afternoon!” Aliah yelled out. 

“Not now, Aliah,” she huffed out.

The rest of her team were quiet. They had known their leader was strong, but to hear she had braved Disturbia…Respect for her had risen.  

Holly raced in front of Afternoon and blocked her from continuing, despite being the smallest member of the team. 

“Stop.” Her Scottish accent made it cute. 

Taylor and Jack stood next to her. Taylor picked at their nails while saying, “You know we love you, right?”

“Yes. But apparently, you don’t love me enough to get the hell out of my way.”

Jack rolled his eyes. Aliah and Aria made their way around her too, so that her incomplete team without Marigold and Lilith  stood in front of her. Their eyes trained on hers. 

Afternoon expected to see some sort of pity  but detected none. 

Aliah spoke, “Afternoon, we’ve known each other for years. We trained together as rookies. We sleep in the same room, for fuck’s sake.”

“I know I didn’t tell you. It’s not exactly something you tell people.”

“Yes it is,” Aria exclaimed. “You’re the Facility’s greatest asset. And-”

“First of all, I’m no one’s asset. I’m not a tool.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What she meant, Afternoon,” Jack started, cutting his eyes towards Aria. “We don’t deserve you as our team leader.”

An audience was gathering on the stairs behind them. 

“Can we take this to me and Aliah’s room?”

“Nah, I’m tired. Jack and I are going to get some shut-eye,” Taylor yawned. 

“We are?” “Yes.”

Taylor dragged poor Jack by the ear and started off to their room. Aria and Holly followed suit, leaving Aliah and Afternoon alone in front of their door. 

“Why’d they change their minds so quickly?”

Aliah shrugged and opened the door to their room.  The smell of Aliah’s essential oils permeated the air. It was set on an hourly mist so they’d always come into a room smelling of lavender or morning dew. 

Afternoon fell onto her bed, not bothering to take off her suit and boots. That would be tomorrow's problem. 

“Good thing tomorrow afternoon is laundry day for our floor. Those sheets are gonna be stanky as hell,” commented Aliah dryly. 

“You’re right, but I don’t care.”

Afternoon felt Aliah’s eyes on her back, so she turned over to face her friend. 

“What?”

“You’re going to take me.”

If Afternoon hadn’t been as tired as she felt, she would have sat up. Instead, she dragged a pillow under head and nodded. Her eyes were slowly closing. 

“I’ll sleep on it and let you know tomorrow.”

Her body relaxed and she fell asleep under Aliah’s watchful but caring gaze. 

HERE IS ZE POLL! 

[mctwilight-mcd]

BOOM! I did art in 2021! I didn’t just watch TV for a year!

Happy new year! 

Template by AsterianMonarch on DeviantArt.

Full versions and descriptions for art below the cut.

January: Human version of my Agent 3, Laura. There’s a little something else going on too, but that’s a secret, for now 😉.

                                                        ~ ~ ~

February: A piece I did called “Trapped”. It depicts an octarian soldier in their non-sanitized and sanitized forms. The text on the left reads “Trapped in a body”, with the right continuing the sentence with, “You can’t control”. The layering on this was HARD. (yes I am aware I spelled ‘trapped’ wrong)

                                                      ~ ~ ~

March: It’s my pfp! I posted this on here too. Search on my ‘#my art’ tag and scroll to the bottom. 

                                                      ~ ~ ~

April: Agent 4 Day art! My 4′s name is Sophie. She’s over 20 in this photo so she’s wearing her wedding ring and her mask has it’s colouring. It’s also my own design for the armor. I also have this one up here.

Here’s the link to the post.

                                                      ~ ~ ~

May: Bun Buddies!!! Made this after I changed the design for Ahato in my au.

Here’s the link to the post.

                                                      ~ ~ ~

June: Pride art of my Agent 3, Laura, and my Agent 4, Sophie. Drew the original in Jan but redrew it since my style got better.

Here’s the link to the post.

                                                      ~ ~ ~

July: Yang’s Birthday drawing. I love Bumbleby. I am obsessed. Anywaysssssssss...

Here’s the link 

                                                       ~ ~ ~

August: Rwby oc/Bumbleby fan child. Her name is Bee (I know, ironic right? don’t worry it’s a nickname.) Didn’t do much that month so have a bee. The colouring on this was hardddddddddddddd.

                                                       ~ ~ ~

September: It’s my birthday jig. I was born in the evening on September 21st. This song was made for me. Lil’ b-day gift to myself.

Post. Here. This is it.

                                                        ~ ~ ~

October: This is a wip. I’m redrawing a scene from the Rwby ep. Strings (S8E3) with my own characters. You will recognise Bee, the other one is named Marigold. The full version has Petal in the middle. The other two haven’t been drawn yet.

                                                         ~ ~ ~

November: Say hello to Marigold. A very sweet lady who is 6ft tall without heels. She and Bee are dating and are on the same team. Petal, Marigold, Chiara (Bee’s real name) and Noel. Team PMCN! (Pumpkin). But here’s Mari in full colour. This was also a pain.

                                                         ~ ~ ~

December: My piece for the Hypnothesis Discord’s Holliday Art Collab. I can’t show the full thing, but here’s my part. It’s blurry because Tumblr can’t deal with the super high resolution. 

ALRIGHT!!! WE’RE DONE!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

[minecraftfan11onscratch]

Ref of my Sona for an AU I've worked on for quite a while, but might've forgor to share here. ^v^'

(for context, Jerr and Crafter are the Sonas of two of my friends)

More elaboration about the AU itself is under the cut!

The marigold was chosen as her TCF codename thanks to some of the flower's symbolisms - optimism and joy, but also grief and despair.

Her pen and sketchbook, during the AU's events, were the things laced with Anti-Trollge protein to combat the Trollge anomalies. She draws constructs to finish them and/or weaken them to be contained.

She starts off the AU's main plot as her usual self - socially awkward but hopelessly idealistic. She helps Smiler pass on to a better place and, afterward, assumes that Legion is gonna give up the same way if she tries to befriend him. Nope, it doesn't work like that. Legion essentially plays along with Myla's plan just to, in the final stretch, stomp and spit on her heart, through Trollge-fying her family and blaming her for it.

This is a WIP-ish detail, but, Myla was inspired to join the TCF by another artist - a painter - who later became a Trollge.

[heres-to-all-that-is-mine]

You got it boss! o7

Now I’m still contemplating whether I wanna make a story out of it so I’ll try to keep storybeat spoilers to a minimum, but! Here’s a summary of the concept behind it.

John Juniper, world famous actor, possibly the most skilled actor in the world (if you ask him), likes getting attention. He’ll never admit it, of course, but it’s so blatantly true it might as well have been written on his forehead. So, of course, when Zor - someone with great power, the head of Zoraxis, global mega-corporation (not that he knows that, at first. They introduce themself only as “a big fan,” and one with deep pockets to boot judging from their donations. He doesn’t really need money, of course, but…) - begins to pay special attention to him, he’s delighted!

And then they come to him with a job offer. A task worthy of his skills, they say, fit only for the greatest actor in the world, a role for the ages! Usually, he’s not one for sweet-talking (a lie, but he won’t admit that), but then, once he affirms his interest (what? He’s curious!), something much, much bigger begins to unravel before his eyes… something alluring.

You see, they tell him, Zoraxis isn’t just a powerful corporation. It’s also a very powerful criminal organisation. (But they don’t start with that, of course. They start with a story, one so fantastical he wonders if maybe they’re really just one of his nuttier fans, or simply a liar, or this is a very strange movie pitch. But they have proof.)

They need him, they tell him, the Greatest Actor in the World, for a momentous task. (And boy, doesn’t that go to his head?)

They need him to infiltrate the Agency, and bring it down from within.

John, drunk on the thought of the infamy it’d get him, the challenge, the glory, the power, accepts.

John Juniper goes mysteriously missing later that year, to the devastation of the world (and one support agent in particular). Some time later, James Marigold is brought on at the Agency as a new recruit.

[andallthatmishigas]

I had a thought yesterday that, now that I'm calming down from my stressful day, I want to explore a little bit.

Downton Abbey but everyone lives AU. Not everyone, but just Sybil and Matthew. What happens if those two survive?

Sybil lives. She gets to be a mother. Cora doesn't have to scream and cry over the loss of her baby. Robert is not shunned for causing Sybil's death. Sybil and Tom most likely wouldn't name their child after Sybil in that case. But maybe they would? Maybe Tom would want to name their daughter after her mother, since so many men name their sons after themselves. So maybe they do decide to call her Sybbie.

I think they would stay at Downton for a little while. Sybil needs to recover and she is so happy to be with her family and to see her parents absolutely over the moon in love with their first grandchild. Maybe Tom starts to settle a little more, not only seeing his wife so at ease with this slightly new way of things but how wonderful it is to have the baby so loved. But eventually, I do think they would move on. Perhaps to America. Though maybe Sybil is the one who realizes that they are not at home there. They do alright, but she finds herself listless and lonely. She has a purpose as a wife and mother, and she has more freedom in America to be outspoken and involved. But there is no community. No family. No help. She can't pursue the things that she wants because she has to be the one to take care of everything while Tom works. And he sees the light in her start to fade. And so...back to Downton!

Matthew lives. He gets to be a father to George. He works with Robert to transform the estate. Things are wonderful. He and Mary are so happy. Maybe they have a couple more kids.

But what of Mary? Without having to rally after Matthew's death to take his place in managing the estate for George's sake, does she just turn into her grandmother? Does she just have her babies and host teas and continue on as she always has? After all, there is no reason for her to change. Nothing to require her to try new things or take on more responsibility. Maybe she is able to use her happiness to create a better bond with Edith, maybe she can be there to help her sister through the Michael Gregson situation, through dealing with the Marigold saga. If Mary had been the one Edith turned to instead of Rosamund, I think it would have turned out so much better. For one thing, Mary would tell Cora because of her Mama could help her carry the body of her dead foreign lover, she can certainly handle Edith being pregnant out of wedlock. And the nonsense with the poor Drewes would have never happened.

But if Matthew lives, would Tom become the agent? Would Matthew have hired someone else while Tom was in America, and if not, would the job be waiting for Tom when he got back?

And if Sybil lives, how does that affect everyone else? No Miss Bunting means no schooling for Daisy, which means Molesley doesn't become a teacher. But also if Matthew lives, Molesley still has his job as a valet. Though how cute would that be, Robert's valet is married to Mary's maid. Cora's maid is in love with Matthew's valet. Makes travel all the nicer.

This post is already far longer than anyone needs but it just fascinates me how many of the things that we see on the show and how many major things affect upstairs and downstairs because of the absolute tragedies of losing Sybil and Matthew. And there's no way of knowing how things would have turned out if we all had been spared that pain. (No Henry, to be sure, and thus no Caroline and no Branson and Talbot Motors! But!! Matthew and Sybil! lol)

Anyway that's enough. I'd love others' thoughts if you've got any.

[rosietrace]

「 Gentle Sinner 」

⊱────────────────────⊰

Central Character ; 『 Victoria Shard, “The Queen” 』 | 『 Noriko Dolion, “Justice’s loyal servant” 』

Others ; Mitch Reiss | Camilla Marigold | Himitsu | Felicitas Leya | Haruka

Mentioned ; Thomas Cresswell (†)

Pairing(s) ; Victoria & Noriko

AU : Secret Agents

【 All Ocs belong to their respective owners and will be credited at the end. 】

Synopsis: “There is no sweeter innocence, then our gentle sin.”

Warning(s): connects with 「 Target Acquired 」 but it isn't required to read before reading this, slightly established relationship (Nororia), the Cresswells hate to see a girlboss winning (don't start wearing red to a funeral, kids), contains characters from Etteilla, potentially ooc, Mercie I'm sorry but Noriko does NOT talk much 😭

【 IMPORTANT NOTE: The characters of “Haruka” and “Himitsu” are by @/geminiiviolets and @/authoruio, and both are currently unreleased. Some details will remain vague until their eventual release. 】

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

⊱────────────────────⊰

⊱────────────────────⊰

“Cresswell was meant to be brought in alive.”

To say Victoria Shard, the queen of the kingdom they called their agency who ruled with an iron fist, was angry… was an understatement.

Noriko kept quiet. It wasn't within their rights to barge in and speak up while agents Mitch and Camilla were being scolded. They kept silent, their head slightly lowered while they guarded the doors from outside of their mistress’ office.

Though the words were muffled, Noriko could still hear them loud and clear as the ring of a bell.

“Killing Cresswell was a necessity,” defended Mitch. Noriko pictured him standing in front of Camilla, shielding her from Victoria's verbal ammunition.

“Tranquilization would've been as reasonable of an option, Reiss. Killing him, not so much.”

“Victoria, please,” pleaded Camilla, “Mitch knows what he did went against orders—”

“Does he?” There was a challenge in Victoria's voice, as if she found Camilla's words hard to believe. A melody of authority and command that brought whatever words the other two were going to say to utter silence.

A heavy sigh left Victoria's lips. “If you just tell me the reason—”

“I'm afraid we cannot.” Mitch felt far too sure of his answer. Noriko pitied him for it.

Noriko pictured Victoria with a clenched jaw, her teeth grinding together as her patience hung by a dangerously thin thread. “And you, Reiss, have no right to question my authority.”

Their argument continued for, as Noriko checked with his watch, for more than half an hour. Righteous fury filled Victoria's voice. And Noriko could hear the distinct sound of the slam of her hands against her desk.

“Out.” She commanded. “Both of you, out. By next week, I expect an explanation, and if I don't get that from either of you, you'll both be suspended until I say you aren't.”

Camilla left the office first, her eyes on the ground with laser-focus. Mitch looked less ashamed and more frustrated. He made an effort in hiding it, but there was no hiding any emotions when it came to Noriko or Victoria.

Himitsu brushed past the two of them. Her expression was puzzling, but she didn't question much until after Victoria allowed her and Noriko to enter.

Himitsu closed the double doors behind her. “What… exactly happened?” The question was more a formality than anything else. Noriko knew that Himitsu knew. Nothing went under the nose of Victoria's secretary.

Victoria sat on a chair behind her desk, legs crossed with her elbows on the chair's arms. She did Himitsu the courtesy of answering her question. “Agents Reiss and Marigold went against orders. That's all.”

Noriko shook their head. “Unfortunately so…”

“Now that Cresswell is dead, we'll need another source of intel,” Victoria released a soft, exasperated sigh. Her hand went to the side of her forehead, eyebrows knitted together.

Himitsu hummed in contemplation. “Right… right…”

All three occupants of the room kept silent. Not only in contemplation, but to allow Victoria to ease whatever nerves Mitch and Camilla had gotten on.

Noriko found it unreasonable with how uncooperative Mitch was, in particular; why hold back information on why he killed Cresswell, when it went against everything Victoria advised them to do?

In Noriko's mind, he believed Victoria to be a saint— merciful for giving Camilla, and especially Mitch, a chance to redeem themselves for their misguidance within a week.

Their long moment of quiet had fallen short when a knock on the doors came. Out of habit, Noriko went into a battle-ready stance, a habit Haruka had mocked them for time and time again.

Victoria didn't allow a second to pass before she said, “Come in.”

The doors opened, revealing Felicitas; one of the many, many operatives that assisted in the cover-ups — at least, in the legal side of things — when certain operations went south.

The night Cresswell died and the news reached Victoria, Felicitas was one of the first to be summoned to cover up any leads that could reveal the truth of his disappearance.

“Ah,” Victoria's expression was somewhat at ease now, far more pleasant looking than when Mitch and Camilla were in the office. “Felicitas.”

With her hands behind her back in a perfect imitation of a soldier answering to their sergeant, Felicitas cleared her throat.

“All traces of potential leads to Cresswell's death have been, as of last night, covered up,” she stated. “Anything we've missed will be thoroughly handled under whatever your requests may be, ma'am.”

The Chairwoman leaned back against her metaphorical throne. “Excellent,” she declared. Noriko was at least glad that there wasn't any visible tension in the way she moved.

“Continue to cover up any leads. And advise Jiyoon to come up with a cover story she could slip to the press.”

Felicitas nodded in understanding. “Of course.” There was no questioning the word of the Chairman, Noriko thought.

A beat passed before Felicitas spoke up again. “... There is also the matter of Cresswell's family, ma'am.”

Those words alone seemed to bring back the tension in Victoria's body with a vengeance. “What of his family?”

“If I may,” Himitsu finally chimed in, raising a finger. Victoria stared blankly at her before she gestured to her to continue. The floor is yours, the wave of her hand seemed to say.

“Thomas Cresswell's family is currently under the impression that he is, in fact, dead.” Noriko grimaced at the words that left Himitsu’s mouth, beginning to feel as tense as Victoria.

“Even if we cover up the facts, they're still going to give the media a chance to gobble up their opinions on his sudden disappearance. I'm afraid that the chances of them believing he left overseas are very slim.”

That is a conundrum, Noriko thought to themselves. But after that, they thought, but hopefully it's one My Lady is capable of solving.

Victoria was decidedly quiet once Himitsu relayed the information to her. Noriko counted seven minutes before she spoke in reply. “Give them an assurance.”

At first, Noriko was puzzled. All until Victoria continued to elaborate.

“Thomas Cresswell is a man with a flair for the dramatic, and as I've informed agent Reiss, he is ‘the black sheep’ of his family.” Victoria gave Felicitas a look that made the latter straighten up just a little bit more. “Assuming Felicitas and her team have been thorough enough in covering things up… we'll need to give them some false assurance.”

“Of what kind?” Himitsu queried.

Victoria shrugged. “Anything that can provide them the message that their son is alive and well, but wants the world to believe he's dead.”

“Besides,” the Chairwoman picked up a diamond encrusted chess piece— the black queen. “The media loves conspiracy. For now, let's let them have what they want.”

Cresswell might've been a man of great charisma, but what the media loves to do is to make assumptions. With his sudden disappearance, they'll believe that he'd gone through something so tortured and horrific to his senses that he believed that death was his only option left.

They could allow the world to believe Thomas Cresswell was dead. All they needed to do was to cover up the circumstances behind said death.

Ultimately, Jiyoon wouldn't have too hard of a job to come up with a cover story to anonymously slip to the press. Probably.

“The Cresswell family is holding a funeral in his honor.” Felicitas tuned back in.

Noriko gave Victoria a look, asking for permission before they could speak. Finally, they said, “Then perhaps it would be best to give the family our condolences.”

Their words made Victoria snort, her lips curling into a smirk.

“Then we must attend under the assumption that Jiyoon is good enough at her job to not leave tracks that lead to us, Nori.”

⊱───────────────⊰

Thomas Cresswell's funeral hardly felt like a funeral, let alone looked like one. To Noriko, it brought to mind a formal event for the rich and popular— more a fashion show than a funeral service.

Victoria's personal bodyguard took extra precautions in case certain less than agreeable situations were to play out; such as calling on a number of operatives to ensure the safety of their Chairwoman.

It didn't seem like it, but the funeral was crawling with intelligence operators. All there to do their jobs, keep their boss safe, and add fuel to the Cresswell fire.

“The Cresswell matriarch’s holding court.” Murmured Haruka, his arms slightly crossed with his head cocked to one side.

Noriko's eyebrow raised. “And what of her husband?”

“Word has it, the Cresswell patriarch isn't doing so well after his heir's death.” Haruka let out a small, dismissive shrug. “That's what Himitsu relayed to us, though.”

Cutting the chit-chat to the side, Haruka's eyes flattened to slits. “And aren't you supposed to be guarding the Chairman?” He couldn't fight the slight scoff.

Noriko resisted the tempting urge to roll their eyes, but just barely. “She’s not far…” they muttered, their eyes wandering to where Victoria was.

The Chairman of the agency and the Cresswell matriarch were more or less having a silent sword match on who was holding court.

The latter made their efforts clear, now surrounded by a sea of high-ranking officials giving their condolences— most of which genuinely believed that Cresswell had disappeared, and not dead as the man's family believed.

But there was no denying the attention the Chairman attracted at every turn. For Noriko, it was hardly surprising— to him, Victoria exuded spectacle, even when she dressed modestly.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the reason why she was attracting so much attention. While true that Victoria put in the work to appear more modest and not look like she received an invitation to the Met gala, the red of her well-tailored opera gloves and scarlet ribboned hat spoke ill-intent.

The bright color wasn't easy to miss. It was a vibrant shade, and you couldn't miss Victoria in the crowd even if you tried; where everyone else wore nothing but black and white, she wore her puffed sleeved dress with glistening white pearls and red gloves.

As she gave Mrs. Cresswell her condolences, the message behind her choice of clothing was clearer than the crystal decor of the garden.

That wasn't to say that eyes weren't on Noriko, either. By being her bodyguard, Noriko had as much of a target on his back as Victoria did— and that wasn't even going in to mention the matching red gloves they wore to coordinate with her.

They watched as Victoria separated from the crowd of people around Mrs. Cresswell, and readily opened the parasol in their hands to shield her porcelain skin from the blinding sunlight. Even when her hat was big enough to do that work for them.

“Was it wise to wear red on this lovely afternoon?” Noriko hoped the low tone of their voice wasn't too condescending.

Victoria didn't take offense to the question. “The Shards and the Cresswells were never friendly with each other, anyways. I can handle another controversy.”

To keep the inner workings of the agency out of the reach of the media, the Shards — Victoria's family from whom she inherited the role of Chairman — lived under the guise of an old money family.

Which… if Noriko wanted to get technical about it, they were. Like all old money families, the media loved to spin stories of possible family secrets; only they weren't aware that the family they're hounding with attention had been in charge of an organization of intelligence operatives since the ‘30s.

Nevertheless, that wasn't what Noriko was worried about. They clutched the parasol just a tiny bit tighter. “... The press will put you under scrutiny, again.”

“Let them,” was Victoria's immediate response. “My family's always been under controversy. What I'm doing today is nothing compared to what my grandmother or her grandmother before her had done.”

Yet the fact still remains, Noriko's amber hues softened, their gaze fixed on the sapphire irises of the woman they devoted themselves to. that isn't going to stop me from worrying about you.

Their promenade ended with them straying from the funeral service, and into the rose maze of the Cresswell estate.

Admittedly, they were probably lost. They came across a marble gazebo along the way, and Victoria chose that opportunity to sit there, gesturing for Noriko to do the same.

Reluctantly, they did the same. Alas, Victoria's bodyguard couldn't help but feel slightly flushed just from sitting beside her in an area where most people wouldn't find them.

Now that the two of them were alone, Victoria breathed out heavily, her head letting itself rest on Noriko's shoulder. Their hand met hers, both intertwined.

It was unbecoming. An imbalance in their dynamic. But it felt right. Being with Victoria, their hands intertwined like this, felt right.

Then again, everything with Victoria felt that way.

“You worry about me too much, Nori,” her voice was soft. No longer a melody of authority, but rather a siren song Noriko could never tire from.

“I feel that my worries are valid…” they murmured back. “You, my lady… you have a target on your back.”

“The masses may not know you as the Chairman, but your enemies do. Danger follows you at every turn, and I'm not just protecting you as your bodyguard anymore.”

That, Victoria couldn't argue with. “No,” she agreed with a small shake of her head. Her free hand went to the side of their face. “Not anymore.”

Noriko leaned into her touch, the way they always did. There was nothing sweeter of any sort of romantic innocence, than the gentle sin of loving someone who couldn't openly love back.

Victoria had her faults. Striving for perfection from those who do not seek it, manipulating people— sometimes they deserved it, other times not so much.

But to Noriko, their view of her would never change. The moment their lips met, and nothing else felt comparable to it.

“This is wrong,” Noriko whispered, their words nothing but muffled out as Victoria's lips met theirs again, and again, and again. “So wrong.”

“So why does it feel so right?” Asked Victoria, as if she wrung out the question from Noriko's mind, pulling away for only a moment before bringing herself back into Noriko's embrace.

There were so many things wrong with her. So many things wrong with him, for seeing her — flaws and all — and loving her anyway.

The love, the devotion, the loyalty Noriko had for Victoria. It was all-consuming. All-encompassing. Destructive.

But it was perfect. And that was always going to be enough for them. And for her.

⊱────────────────────⊰

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Victoria Shard — Me 😈

Noriko Dolion — @terrovaniadorm / @hallowed-delights

Mitch Reiss — @authoruio

Camilla Marigold — Also Me 😈

Himitsu — Also @/authoruio

Haruka — @geminiiviolets

Felicitas Leya — Also x2 @/authoruio

| @starry-night-rose | @jasdiary | @nem0-nee | @fumikomiyasaki | @sakuramidnight15 | @twsted-princess | @mystery-skulls-ghost | @absolutelyobsessedkiya / @twistedsongstressofstarz | @valse-a-mille-temps |

⊱────────────────────⊰

[wanderingalicewrites]

I'll ask one from each category if that's alright: David, Purple Violets and Marigolds, and Endtimes.

Sure! Thanks for asking!!

David is an old fic I’m re-writing (slowly) since I want to go back to it, but looking at writing I did that long ago (almost eight years now) makes me cringe. It’s a pre-movie AU for Star Trek:AOS. A Kirk/Spock fic in which Jim is a single parent working at Starfleet Academy, and he and Spock fall into their inevitable orbit around each other. It deals with Jim doing his best to be a good dad, lots of angst between him and Spock, and Bones being a fantastic best friend. Plus a few away missions, and dealing with the ghosts in both of their pasts.

Purple Violets and Marigolds is one I’m not sure I’ll actually finish. It’s a twist on the Hanahaki Disease trope (which has always intrigued me, while also being a little icky because, good lord, imagine the guilt if you’re one of the people who don’t return someone’s true love). Instead of being a human thing or about unrequited love, it’s a punishment specifically for demons that fall in love. Flowers grow around their metaphysical hearts, until the roots choke them and they die. Most demons have their hearts removed when they realize they’ve fallen in love, where they’re kept safe in a room guarded by Beelzebub and Dagon, until such time as someone loves the demon enough to retrieve the heart and replace it with their own. Only then will the flowers fade away. Crowley, of course, doesn’t want to give up his heart (and thus his love and memories of Aziraphale), and hides what’s happening until it’s nearly too late.

Endtimes, which desperately needs a different name, is a novella-length story I started back in 2013 about a young woman who serves as a secret service agent to the president. The Zombie Apocalypse happens, and she has to get the president and her family to a secret bunker in the mountains. It involves a car chase, a dashing and beautiful helicopter pilot, a nursing student who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and an actual decent human being of a president. I got a good ways through it before I lost my ability to write there for a couple years, and I want to actually finish the damn thing now that I can.