#my art comes with homework lol
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its-not-a-pen · 11 months ago
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—Terracotta—
Ok so I visited xi'an during my trip back to china (3 months ago?), and this idea popped into my head during the 9h train ride back to shangdong. I am of course 100% projecting my own love of the terracotta army onto Qin Shi Huang, in reality he did not care for this pit of mud statues depicting lowly commoners. In fact, no one ever bothered to write about it and they were lost to history until 1974 when some farmers digging a well stumbled upon them. But it's exactly the reason I'm so fascinated by them. QSH's tomb has not been excavated, and although I have a running joke about cracking it open--mercury vapors be damned--none of the riches inside will ever enchant me as much as the chance to see the face of a person who lived during this time.
Notes under the cut:
#1
the title Qin Shi Huangdi means "First Emperor of Qin" and was given to QSH by later historians. He actually called himself the Shi Huangdi, "First Emperor", and that is the title I've gone with here.
in English the other kingdoms are translated as "states" (i guess to avoid confusion?) but in chinese they are very much kingdoms.
The terracotta warriors used thousands of craftsmen, many of whom were slaves from conquered kingdoms. From a storytelling perspective I thought it would be more streamlined if there were two main artisans who reported directly to QSH.
QSH's clothes are based on the overly complicated courtly regalia. which has 12 symbols that only the emperor is allowed to wear
Notice how this hat is ROUND at the front??? Well I CERTAINLY DIDN'T. HAD TO REDRAW IT!!!!!
the stripped shirt is based on this Chu woman figurine. Clothes were fairly unisex during this time and I thought it was a nice fit.
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#2
Paperwork: writing was done on books made of bamboo slips. Anecdotally, QSH had an impressive work ethic and would read 100 bills every night.
Bronze Goose lamp: ok this is actually a Han dynasty lamp pls forgive me. I saw this bad boy at the xi'an history museum and it's bewitched me body and soul. The goose neck is hollow and connects to a reservoir of water in the belly, which minimizes smoke and cools the lamp.
QSH is remembered as a brutal tyrant and brilliant statesman, but I wanted to present a more human version of him here. Bored, tired and drowning in work he refuses to delegate. His new empire is balanced as precariously as everything else on his desk.
#3
The attendants standing behind him are holding little wood tablets called hu for taking notes. Their brushes are tucked into their hats/hair, inspired by Han dynasty custom. (You'll see me using Han stuff a lot. Their cultures were very similar to Qin, since it was only a few hundred years apart).
So I had a slight breakdown trying to find the correct hats for the eunuchs, and ended up redrawing everything the night I was due to publish. Closest thing I could come up with was a reference to a round-style Han Dynasty hat which evolved into this square Jin hat. Yes, this is a cry for help .
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#4
the wheeled platform is 100% made up, I tried to come up with a plausible way of getting a bunch of figurines into the palace.
#5 & #6
Painted terracotta soldier
How were the terracotta warriors made
The General: Fun fact, I got to see this guy in person!
#7
The Epic Wide Shot was inspired by some Tang Dynasty terracotta figures I saw at the xi'an museum!
#8
THIS KNEELING ARCHER. ARGGGGG. He use to be my favourite guy. I even went into the pit and drew him IN PERSON. the archers inexplicably have their hair buns on the OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE HEAD. So because of him, I DREW ALL THE HAIR BUNS WRONG!!!! REDRAW!!!! PAIN AND SUFFERING!!!!
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#10
Qin was famous for it's very long, thin swords. They were more useful as status symbols than actual weapons, as QSH knows from personal experience…
#11
QSH'S Tomb hasn't been excavated yet, but high levels of mercury have been detected in the soil, making the historical accounts of quite plausible.
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bright-and-burning · 2 months ago
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sorry 4 reverting to constantly posting abt the inherent weirdness of my data science job i hope u still love me <3
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harryspet · 2 months ago
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Bimbo reader maybe / kinda like hostage situation where she is in a cabin with him and she has Stockholm syndrome 🥹
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[warnings] dark!daddy!rafe x bimbo!little!reader, this takes place in a cabin though i realize now i don't even mention it lol, DUBCON, stockholm syndrome, implied kidnapping
18+ MDNI
“Have you been good today, hmm?”
Eagerly, you nodded, gazing up at your captor with hopeful eyes. You had been diligent, completing every task on the list he had assigned and waiting patiently for his return. Today was special, he had promised that, as a reward, he would finally let you out of your room.
“I have been, Daddy, I promise,” You answered obediently. You rose from your desk, crossing your bedroom, and handing him your homework, “Look, I did all my worksheets.”
“I see, get down on your knees baby while Daddy looks these over.”
You smiled weakly, holding onto his legs to steady yourself as you lowered yourself to the ground in front of him. You looked up at his figure, strong and imposing, and instinctively your hands found the button of his jeans. 
You recalled the effort you had put in throughout the day: matching baby animals with their mothers, coloring vibrant butterflies from Africa, tracing the alphabet with charming illustrations, and rhyming words by pairing pictures of objects that sounded alike. Each task was completed with care in sparkling pink ink, while you wore a plaid skirt that barely covered your white underwear.
Rafe was kind to let your mind be occupied while he was away. It kept you mentally stimulated. A little girl like you shouldn’t have to concern herself with adult matters, but there was still so much to learn.
“You did such a good job, baby. Tell Daddy something you learned.”
Unzipping his pants, you freed his cock from his jeans. Wrapping your hands around the thick base of him, Rafe’s lips parted and he gave you a look of wanting, of anticipation, “Uh, uhm, something I learned ….oh!” Something came to your mind just as you brought your lips closer to his tip, “I learned about patterns. Patterns repeat in a certain way. Like red-blue-red-blue, that’s a pattern!”
Strong hands caressed your cheek as beautiful blue eyes stared down at you, “What a smart little bunny. You make Daddy so hard, baby,” He groaned huskily as your mouth filled with spit and you took his tip inside your mouth, “Fuck, that’s a good girl.”
It wasn’t your favorite thing to do with Rafe. Prying your mouth open often made your jaw ache and the taste …you didn’t love the taste. However, Rafe would get mad if you didn’t swallow. . Over time, you had perfected the art of swallowing him and forcing a smile through the discomfort. It wasn’t pleasant, but you had learned that keeping him happy meant he would finish quickly.
“I love that fucking mouth,” Rafe grunted as you swirled your tongue around him. You pumped him with your hands as your mouth focused on his moth sensitive area, “Smart little bunny. So good at sucking my cock.”
Rafe had a habit of talking to himself while you were with him, and you had come to accept it as part of the routine. He preferred to grab your head and push himself deeper when he was close, which was the only way he wanted to finish. That’s when you often found yourself struggling to catch your breath, with tears usually welling up in your eyes as you waited for him to let you breathe again. When he finally did, you felt a wave of relief and focused on maintaining a composed appearance. You tried to stifle your coughs and gave him a look that conveyed your gratitude.
“Good girl,” He’d usually say as he rubbed himself across your lips, tapping himself against your cheeks as he made a mess of you, “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Daddy, for letting me suck your cock.”
“You’re welcome, bunny.”
“Does that mean I-I can leave my room today?”
Rafe nodded his head as he concealed himself again, looking down at you as he zipped his pants, “You’re just so excited, aren’t you?”
You nodded your head quickly, practically bouncing in place, “Yes, yes, I’m super–really excited!”
“You want up?” He held his hands out to you, a comforting gesture. You placed your hands in his and Rafe helped you to your feet before lifting you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and he carried you towards the door. 
You were smart to always obey your Daddy.
+
hope you enjoyed!
rafe cameron masterlist
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lovelettersforthedamned · 5 months ago
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The Winner
✰ stanford!art donaldson x stanford!f!reader
✰ word count : 1.0k
✰ summary : you never get tired of being art donaldson's girl, especially when you get to reward him for his win later that night.
✰ warnings: kissing, allusions to smut, minors dni, 18+, tashi erasure (i'm sorry), art is happy LOL.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
main m.list ⋆ art donaldson m.list
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⋆ gif by @supersoldierslover
Your professor’s monotone voice was the cherry on top of your already long day. Scheduling back-to-back lectures right before Art’s game days wasn’t ideal, but you made it work. You’re grateful to not play a sport while also engaging in academics. There have been countless nights spent in the library with Art, going over his notes because his practice in the afternoon tends to run late, pushing his homework time to the late hours of the night. 
With your head resting on your hand, another yawn is pulled from your body. A buzz from your back pocket jolts you awake, causing an embarrassing heat to flood your face. Quietly, you reach for your phone and check the message that almost gave you a heart attack. 
artie <3: I saved you a spot! My bag should be on the seat, and there’s a snack in there for you. 
You smile at the text. 
you: I’ll be out of class soon! I love you, superstar. 
artie <3: I love you!
And with the clock striking six thirty in the afternoon, you jump out of your seat and rush to the courts. Determination is written across your face as you frantically rush to the spot Art had saved for you that’s right at the front. Sure enough, a granola bar is inside his bag. 
It only takes a few minutes before Art makes his entrance on the court, his eyes automatically searching for you. Even after months of dating, spotting him made your heart race. He’s so captivating in the way he moves, especially when he plays. 
But even as he’s approaching you, you’re stuck in a daze. “Hi, pretty girl,” his voice carries a smile through it, something you’ve always appreciated. You lean over the fence and give him a kiss, his hand coming to the side of your face as if he wants to pull you impossibly closer to his touch. 
Taking his other hand in yours, you can feel that his palm is slightly clammy, “Are you nervous? You shouldn’t be.” 
He huffed a laugh and looked down because his ‘tough guy’ act didn’t slide past you. “I’m always nervous when you watch me play,” he admits, a rosy blush fluttering over his cheeks. 
You squeeze his hand once, an unspoken form of reassurement. “Don’t be,” you smile, “I’m your number one fan.” You joke, but not really.
With one last kiss, he leaves to play the game you’ve watched him perfect for the past few years. And though he’s hitting the ball to his opponent, you can’t help but focus on your boyfriend. The muscles in his arm flex with each movement as the sweat drips down his forehead, causing him to pull the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the perspiration away. Giving you, and the girls behind you, a perfect view of the cut of his abdomen leading down to the waistband of his shorts. 
Of course, you knew Art was attractive, and pair that with him being the best man on the team, he’s bound to receive attention. At first, the constant gawks and inappropriate comments towards him made your blood boil. You couldn’t stand the sight of the girls throwing themselves at your boyfriend, but now, you’ve learned to use them to your advantage. 
Before dating Art, there was no way you would purposely put yourself out there. Going to parties and bars wasn’t your favorite way to spend Friday nights, but now, you’re forced to embrace the spotlight just by being associated with Stanford's star tennis player. 
Art always has you by his side, an arm snaked around your waist as he greets friends at social gatherings. It took a while to get used to, but you wouldn’t have it any other way with Art by your side. 
Leaning back in your seat, you enjoy the Spring sun as you watch Art’s match unfold. And with the girls behind you giggling at your boyfriend, you smile. You smile because you know you’ve won.
⋆⋆⋆⋆
With Art’s opponent hitting the ball out, that was the match; an easy victory for Stanford. You rise to your feet and smile while applauding. Slinging Art’s bag over your shoulder, you unapologetically flaunt the embroidered stitching writing, ‘DONALDSON’ towards the girls behind you before walking off. 
You make your way to the exit of the locker room as you wait for Art to appear. You make casual conversation with the people around you, mostly friends and family of the other players, when some of them start to come out. Slowly, but surely, you see the mess of dirty blond hair push open the door, a smirk coming to your lips. 
He puts his classic red hat on backward before engulfing you in a hug, picking you up off of your feet, and spinning you in a circle. You giggle as you find your footing on the pavement below you, “See? There's no need to be nervous when I watch. You crushed it, baby.” 
“Maybe you’re my good luck charm,” he suggests, pulling away before he grabs your hand, leading the both of you to his dorm—a stupid boyish smile on his face. 
You brush off the feeling of his cock pressed into your thigh as he spun you as you let him lead you to his place, “Is this you subtly asking that I come to every single one of your matches?” 
“Hmm,” that smile never faded from his mouth, “maybe?” 
“Are you going to prove to me why I should? Or are you going to keep subtly flirting with me until I’m the one that has to beg for you to fuck me?” 
Your question surprises him and causes him to quicken his pace as you laugh behind him. He’s dragging you to his room, and you won’t stop him. Not after his big victory, he deserves to feel good tonight. 
⋆ author's note: ANOTHER ART FIC BECAUSE I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF HIM!!!! thank you for all the love on the last few art fics!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog this work if you loved it!! ok, ily byeeee!!!
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kendyzzlewp · 5 months ago
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The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON
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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.
tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol
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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”
Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.
“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”
His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”
Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”
“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”
Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“
You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.
“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”
You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.
“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”
Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.
“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”
A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.
They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.
“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”
You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”
Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.
Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”
He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”
Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.
“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”
Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”
“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.
Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”
Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”
The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.
“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.
He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”
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thebearer · 1 year ago
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Omg Imagine meeting Lip at college and you are majoring in education, and you only know each other through math or something you need help with. You could just befriend him at first because he is a WHORE phase lol.
Idk your dribbles make me think that Lip and his wife have a strong friendship that blossomed to romance after Lip figures his shit out , and she got knocked up very early on lol.
📢ALSO LIP WILL BE SO MUCH WORSE THEN CARMY WHEN HE FINDS OUT YOU ARE PREGNANT BC KAREN TRAUMAAAAAAAAAAA 📢
"Hey," You stride next to Lip, looping the free strap of your backpack on. "What are you doin' tonight?"
"Uh, kinda busy." Lip hummed, brows creasing lightly when he looked over at you.
"With your professor?" You gave him a pointed look, a devious smile spreading across your lips when he scoffed.
"Yeah. You got plans with yours?" Lip countered.
You rolled your eyes. "Please. I'm not that desperate for a grade." You quipped. "Speaking of, I was going to ask if you were free tonight, because I am going to fail this math test on Wednesday."
"Yeah? And what do you need me for?" Lip grinned, pushing the door open for you. It was so casual, friendly- it made your heart flutter.
"Stop." You shook your head at him. "C'mon, I really need your help. I do your critical theory homework all the time to impress your sexy professor lady, so you owe me."
"Yeah, I guess. I'll, uh, I'll stop by after my last. I gotta check with Youens, make sure I got my shit done. Then I can come help you study." Lip nodded casually.
"Ugh, thank you." You sighed, bumping him playfully with your shoulder. "I swear, I'm not teaching math ever. I don't understand why I'm in the hardest math class for elementary ed."
"I mean, they probably want their teachers to be halfway smart." Lip shrugged. "Well, maybe not at the shit hole school I went to, but, uh, the good schools."
You snorted. "Yeah? Well, regardless, I'm not teaching math. I'll hold down the language arts, or the history, maybe the science if I have to. But math? Out of the question."
"Not even long division, huh?" Lip grinned.
"To be completely honest with you, I don't think I know how to do long division." You giggled. "I can barely do short division."
Many Years Later
"Lip!" You called, your voice carrying out to the garage, where your husband was "working on the car" (which really meant sneaking a cigarette).
"Yeah?" Lip hummed, walking into the house. Freddie sat at the kitchen table, a tiny frown on his features that mimicked yours perfectly. It made Lip's heart melt.
"Let Daddy see the problem, baby. He's better at math than me." You ran a hand over Freddie's curls sweetly, moving so Lip could take your spot.
Freddie had gotten Lip's freakish ability to do math. He was only six, but doing multiplication and long division already in his advanced groups.
"Lemme see, bud." Lip turned the paper towards him, scanning the problem. "Ah, ok, so you're not carrying the number here." Lip pointed to the problem, explaining it to your tiny son.
Your heart swelled, picking Jude up and hoisting him on your hip, trying to finish loading the dishwasher.
"Always thought your were jokin'." Lip hummed, gently squeezing your ass so you blushed, leaning to kiss the toddler on his head.
"About what?" You raised a brow.
"The long division thing." Lip laughed lightly. You gave him a confused look. "Y'know, when you said you wouldn't teach math and all that."
"Oh," You rolled your eyes playfully. "No, I wasn't. Why do you think I teach language arts now? Can't do all that numbers stuff like you."
Lip smirked, taking the dish from you and putting it in the rack. "How do you even remember that?" You cock your head to the side.
"What?"
"That I said that." You giggle. "That was, like, a million years ago."
"Because," Lip shrugged. "I was in love with you."
"No, you weren't." You blushed, dodging Jude's grabbing hands towards your hair. "You had your Mrs. Robinson."
Lip rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but, you were like my best friend." He said boyishly. Your heart melted. "Still are, but then, I just... I didn't want to fuck it up, ya know?"
"Watch it." You glared at him lightly, though it wasn't very convincing. "That's sweet. I was, like, very much so in love with you too, for the record."
"Yeah?" Lip grinned. You nodded, laughing when he kissed you sweetly over Jude's head. "Kinda had an idea."
"Really? What gave it away? The wedding or the kids?" You said sarcastically.
"No, it was the night that I had to pick you up from that dive bar downtown, and, uh, you were so drunk-"
"-Alright, Gallagher-"
"-And you kept telling me how much you loved me-"
You glared at him. "Jude, Daddy is being mean to me. Can you believe that?" You cooed, frowning exaggeratedly at your son. Jude just babbled, trying to grab at your hair again.
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lividstar · 5 months ago
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‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤSLY FOX, DUMB BUNNY
‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤChapter One
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៚ wc: 37k
៚ fluff, heavy angst, wooyoung x secret agent!reader, slowburn, ???s to lovers, mutual pining, designated codenames for plot purposes
៚ warnings: heavy violence, usage of weapons, mentions of murder, dark themes in general
៚ playlist !
៚ Leading a life filled with secrets was never bound to be easy. From the moment you stepped into the world of espionage, you knew by then that there would be no chance to rewind the minutes once you decided to stand firm with your decision—you knew it came at a huge cost of needing to detach yourself from those you held connections with in order to ensure they wouldn’t accidentally be dragged into the dangers your entire existence in itself consisted of, but you had been taught better than to back down. And it wasn’t exactly like it was a hard task to complete, anyway, as you never had any problems with still being all by yourself even in an age where billions of people occupied the world in the first place. Unfortunately, life comes in a package deal with a surge of twists, and in your case, Jung Wooyoung, the presence that accompanies you almost everyday during your job as a librarian within the “normal” half of your life, was the twist in question. Who would’ve failed to guess you weren’t the only person in the universe who had major secrets to keep? Both you and Wooyoung himself, apparently.
a/n: i’m still on a break but i figured i’d publish this since it’s been sitting on my drafts for weeks lol (your codename is a shortened version of “sylvilagus genus,” a.k.a the scientific term for a cottontail rabbit) this will have a part 2!
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Mastering the art of multitasking can be achieved in a vast sea of ways that all differ from one another. One could say watching a movie while finishing homework could count as a valid form of juggling two tasks with one hand. Multitasking could also come in the form of getting ready for a late night out while arguing with your partner through the phone. Some would even argue that opening different computer tabs at once should also be up in the list. Simply put, there’s no fixed context to it—it’s subjective, and you have all the freedom to interpret it in a way that helps you sleep.
In your case, however, mastering the art of multitasking was a journey certainly not as easy as the combinations of activities mentioned above.
Your journey into the world of espionage began in the most unlikely of places: a dusty, old bookshop in a forgotten corner of the city. It was there, amidst the stacks of ancient tomes and forgotten manuscripts, that you first met the man who would change your life forever. He was a retired agent, masquerading as the shop’s owner, and he saw something in you that no one else had—a keen mind, a sharp eye for detail, and an insatiable curiosity. He became your mentor, teaching you the secrets of his trade. Under his guidance, you learned the art of surveillance, the intricacies of disguise, and the delicate skill of deciphering codes. It was a rigorous training regimen, filled with sleepless nights and countless challenges, but you thrived on it. Your determination and resilience set you apart, and before long, you were recruited into the organization.
Balancing your dual life was no easy feat. By day, you immersed yourself in the quiet, orderly world of the library, where your meticulous nature and problem-solving skills earned you the respect of your colleagues and patrons. You thrived in the tranquility of the stacks, finding solace in the knowledge contained within the pages of the books you so carefully curated.
By night, however, you navigated a world of shadows and deception. The training you had undergone was relentless. Physical conditioning, combat training, advanced technology—every aspect of your life was geared towards making you the perfect operative. You were taught to be adaptable, to think on your feet, and to always be three steps ahead of your adversaries.
Your rise through the ranks was swift. Your keen intellect and unerring instincts made you an invaluable asset to the organization. You had a natural talent for uncovering hidden truths and solving puzzles that left others baffled. Your missions took you to the far corners of the globe, from the loud streets of Tokyo to the ancient ruins of Rome, each assignment more challenging than the last.
But with every success came a deeper entanglement in the web of espionage. The impact on your personal life was profound. Relationships became strained as you struggled to maintain your cover. The constant danger and secrecy took a toll on you, leaving you isolated and wary of those around you. Yet, despite the sacrifices, you remained committed to your cause, driven by a sense of duty and a desire to protect the world’s treasures from falling into the wrong hands.
The library became both your sanctuary and your camouflage. You mastered the art of compartmentalizing your life, slipping seamlessly between your two identities. Your colleagues marveled at your efficiency and dedication, unaware of the adrenaline-fueled nights you spent in pursuit of justice.
Each day, you donned the mask of a librarian, but beneath that calm exterior lay a formidable operative, always ready for the next mission. The juxtaposition of your two lives was stark, yet you found a strange harmony in the duality. The quiet moments in the library allowed you to recharge and refocus, while the thrill of espionage kept your skills sharp and your mind agile.
As you sat at your desk, a cup of tea steaming beside you and a stack of books waiting to be shelved, you couldn’t help but reflect on the path that had brought you here. From the dusty bookshop to the heart of a covert spy organization, your journey has been anything but ordinary. Just then, while you’re busy typing away on your computer, the door to the library swings open, the gentle chime signaling the arrival of a customer. Looking up from your screen, a warm smile immediately finds its way to your face when you recognize the visitor.
Jung Wooyoung.
From the start, Wooyoung had always loved frequenting the library. The elderly librarian whose place you took before she retired had often spoken of him. She was a sweet old woman, and according to her, Wooyoung had been visiting the library ever since he was a little boy. Over the years, she had grown fond of him, so much so that even as she packed her things to leave, she told you to take care of him and always ensure he left the library with a smile on his face. It was endearing, in a way. She had also mentioned that Wooyoung was a very sweet boy, filled with optimism and never seen without a smile. You’d been skeptical of this before you started working as the librarian, but upon meeting him, you quickly realized she was right.
Wooyoung was genuinely sweet. The first time he entered the library under your watch, he was visibly shocked to see you at the registrar instead of the familiar old librarian who had watched him grow up. When he approached the counter to return the books he had borrowed the previous week, you could see the unspoken question in his eyes, the hesitation to ask about her, afraid of offending you somehow. Sensing his unease, you took the initiative to explain. “She had to go out of town to stay with her daughter because this library doesn’t provide enough money for her to pay rent,” you had said in a neutral yet soft tone, remembering how his eyes had clouded with sadness.
Feeling a strange need to cheer him up, you had added, “Before she left, she told me many stories about you. She said you were a really sweet boy, and that once I start working here, I should always make sure you leave the library with a smile on your face. She seemed to have been very fond of you.” You could still picture the way his eyes sparkled with surprise and delight as he gasped, “Really?” You had simply nodded, offering him a small, reassuring smile. Over time, you grew fond of his presence as well. Your days seemed a little incomplete when he didn’t visit the library. There was something comforting about his regular appearances, a sense of normalcy in your otherwise dual life.
“Hey, Wooyoung. It’s been a while,” you greeted him with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee.
Wooyoung walked towards the registrar, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy these days.”
Curiosity piqued, you wondered what had kept him so occupied, but you chose not to pry, figuring it was probably a matter that demands privacy. “It’s nice to have you back.”
“Really? I was beginning to think you were growing tired of seeing my face every day,” he joked lightly, eliciting a muffled, short laugh from you.
“I beg to differ. If anything, a shift at work doesn’t quite make it to the shelf of good days unless you pay the library a visit,” you said, diverting your attention from the computer to the books he had placed on the counter. “The History of Art?”
“Thought I’d check out something new,” he shrugged, causing the loose collar of his knitted sweater to slip off his shoulder a little.
“Always exploring, aren’t you?” you remarked, scanning the books into the system. “Did anything in particular catch your interest in art history?”
He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You could say I’m looking for inspiration.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Inspiration for what?” Wooyoung leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s a secret.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Alright, keep your secrets. Just make sure to return the books on time.”
“I always do,” he replied, flashing you a playful wink.
As Wooyoung made his way to his usual spot by the window, you couldn’t help but watch him for a moment longer. There was something about him that drew you in, a charisma that was hard to resist. And yet, there was also an air of mystery around him, something that made you curious and kept you guessing.
Another endearing trait of Wooyoung was that despite his sweet demeanor, he had a teasing side that surfaced on rare occasions—like right now. It was one of those fascinating nuances that kept you intrigued by him. There were many layers to Wooyoung’s personality, and each one seemed more captivating than the last. Sometimes, you found yourself wondering if there were even more depths to him that you had yet to discover. You weren’t exactly close friends with him, after all. Sure, the two of you enjoyed spending a few minutes engaging in conversations, but they were mostly centered around the books he borrowed and returned. Your interactions were limited to the confines of the library. Beyond its walls, you knew little about him. You didn’t have his number, didn’t know his favorite coffee shop, or even what he did on weekends. Were you acquaintances? One could say that. Were you friends? That was a more complicated question.
The ambiguity of your relationship often left you pondering. On one hand, it felt like there was a budding friendship forming, built on shared moments of literary discussion and mutual respect. On the other hand, there was a clear boundary that neither of you had crossed, a line that kept your lives distinctly separate. Perhaps it was better this way. Your life was already a chaotic blend of librarian by day and spy by night. Adding Wooyoung into the mix didn’t seem wise. Because of that, you often had to remind yourself that you weren’t just a mere librarian. Your nights were filled with missions and dangers that he couldn’t even begin to imagine. Bringing Wooyoung into your world would only complicate things further, potentially putting his life on the line. It was a risk you weren’t willing to take.
Sometimes, as you watched him immerse himself in a new book or share a light-hearted joke, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to know him outside of the library. To share a coffee, a laugh, maybe even a secret or two. But then reality would set in, reminding you of the double life you led and the responsibilities that came with it. Perhaps you two were meant to stay like this, connected within the safe, quiet haven of the library but living entirely separate lives outside its walls. It was a delicate balance, one that allowed you to enjoy his company without the complications that deeper involvement would surely bring.
In the quiet moments, as you reshelved books or sipped your coffee while watching him from a distance, you found a strange comfort in the simplicity of your interactions. They were uncomplicated, free from the burdens of your other life. And maybe that was enough. For now, you were content with the way things were—connected in the library, yet worlds apart outside of it.
While you’re busy working, your invisible in-ear device—designed solely for your organization to contact you and deliver news without blowing your cover—beeps. A voice mail from one of the higher-ups begins to play. “Agent Sylvil, this is Director Han. There’s a meeting scheduled for tonight at 2100 hours. We need you to head to the headquarters as soon as possible. There have been some developments that require your immediate attention. Do not be late.”
The stern and authoritative voice of Director Han successfully drags you out of your thoughts. The voicemail serves as a very direct and firm reminder of why exactly you can’t let Wooyoung into your world. You let out a sigh, the weight of your duties pressing down on you, and look up from your computer. There, just a few tables and aisles away, sits Wooyoung. To your surprise, you find him already looking at you. His expression is unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place. Before you can muster a smile, he quickly averts his gaze, focusing intently on the book laid out in front of him on the desk.
You check the time. Three hours before your shift ends and three hours before you have to go to the headquarters. The clock seems to tick louder, each second a reminder of your impending duties. You reach for your mug, only to be surprised by its unexpected lightness. You hadn’t even noticed you had already drunk all of your coffee, too consumed by your swirling thoughts. Sighing, you place the empty mug down and rub your temples. The simplicity of your interactions with Wooyoung had a comforting allure, a stark contrast to the complexity of your covert life. But moments like this voicemail snap you back to reality, emphasizing the clear line that must be maintained between your librarian persona and your identity as a spy.
You glance at Wooyoung one last time. He’s engrossed in his book, completely unaware of the clandestine world you navigate outside the library. Part of you envies his ignorance, the peaceful simplicity of a life not bound by secrets and danger. As the minutes tick by, you try to refocus on your work. Yet, the knowledge of the meeting and what it could entail lingers at the back of your mind, an insistent reminder of the life you lead when the library doors close. You can’t afford distractions, and certainly not ones that come with a charming smile and a newfound penchant for art history.
Time passes before you even realize it. Wooyoung had left just a couple of minutes ago, and now it was time to close the library. Thankfully, there were no longer any patrons in the place, making it easier for you to wrap things up. You methodically gather your belongings, lock the doors, and roll down the metal shutter to secure the entrance.
Once everything is in order, you make your way to the headquarters, located deep in a deserted alleyway that no one would suspect. As you approach the unassuming brick wall, you press a hidden button concealed within a loose brick. The wall slides open silently, revealing a sleek, high-tech entrance. You step inside, greeted by a sterile corridor illuminated by dim, bluish lights. As you walk, sensors scan your biometric data, confirming your identity. The walls shimmer momentarily before displaying a welcome message on a holographic screen. You continue down the hallway until you reach a large metal door. It opens automatically as you approach, revealing an elevator.
Entering the elevator, you press your hand against a glass panel. A soft voice confirms, “Identity verified. Welcome, Agent Sylvil.” The elevator descends rapidly, and you feel a slight shift in gravity before it comes to a smooth stop. The door then slides open. Inside, the headquarters hums with activity. Agents bustle about, attending to their tasks with a precision borne of rigorous training. The air is thick with the scent of coffee and the faint hum of advanced machinery. You navigate through the labyrinthine hallways to the meeting room, arriving just as the clock ticks to 2100 hours. You sigh in relief; at least you are right on time.
The meeting room is stark and minimalist, dominated by a large, interactive screen on one wall. The table is already set with a holographic projector and various data pads. You take a seat, maintaining a neutral expression as the Director, the highest-ranking officer in your organization, greets you.
“Agent Sylvil,” she begins, “thank you for coming on such short notice.” You take a seat, maintaining a neutral expression as she starts to brief you on a new rising threat hidden in the shadows. “Our security patrol has reported the appearance of a new thief on the scene.”
You shift slightly in your seat, intrigued but careful to remain composed. “So far, we’ve managed to gather only a few pieces of information,” Director Han says, her tone grim. “This thief is a young man, around your age, and has been given the codename ‘Crimson Fox’ as a patrol member had described him to us as a stealthy, cunning being. Despite our best efforts, we’ve been unable to track him or gather any substantial intel, which is highly unusual for our operations.”
Your curiosity is piqued now. “And what makes him so different from the others we’ve dealt with?” you ask, leaning forward.
Director Han taps the air, and a screen projects in front of you, displaying the image of a priceless painting by an obscure Renaissance artist named “The Midnight Watch.”
“What about this?” you inquired, needing further context as to why she was showing you this painting in particular.
“Based on the analysis made by Director Kang, the Crimson Fox is most likely eyeing this artifact as his target,” she continues, “and because of this, we’re assigning you the mission to capture the Crimson Fox and prevent him from getting his hands on this artifact at all costs.”
You study the projected screen, reading a particular statement that says this painting is highly guarded. You then click on the arrow button on the right to read the other pages containing further information. “It says here that this painting does not hold any significant form of value,” you point out, turning to Director Han. “Shouldn’t this mission be passed down to an agent of a lower rank?”
“Do not question your duties,” she interjects, coming off a little too defensive than necessary, making your eyebrows slightly furrow in confusion. Noticing the expression on your face, she clears her throat, composing herself.
“Well, we cannot pass this down to a less experienced agent because the Crimson Fox is not like any of the thieves you’ve encountered before. His methods are untraceable,” she admits. “He leaves no clues behind. Our tech team has been working around the clock to find any digital footprints, but so far, they’ve come up empty-handed. His skills are... unprecedented.”
You nod slowly, processing the information. “Hence why you believe I’m the best person for this mission?” you ask, needing to hear it from her directly.
Director Han’s gaze is intense as she looks at you. “Precisely. If you complete this mission successfully, you will be promoted to a higher-up position. If you fail, the consequences won’t fall solely on you—but rather on the entire organization. A professional criminal on the loose is unacceptable.”
She pauses for a moment, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. “We believe you are the only one capable of catching him. Your track record speaks for itself, and your unique skill set makes you the ideal candidate.”
You take a deep breath. “I understand,” you say firmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him in.”
Director Han nods approvingly. “Good. We’ve gathered all the intel we could on the Crimson Fox, although it’s not much. You’ll find the files in your personal database. Study them thoroughly. We need you to be ready for anything.” She taps a few buttons on the console, and the screen shifts to display a detailed map of the Crimson Fox’s recent sightings. “These are the sites of his recent activities. Notice the pattern?”
You squint at the map, recognizing the strategic positioning of each move of his. “He’s traveling in a circle, gradually tightening the radius around... here,” you point to a central location.
“Precisely,” the Director confirms. “That’s why we need to act fast before he gets his hands on The Midnight Watch.”
You rise from your seat, nodding at Director Han with a firm gaze. “Consider it done.”
When you leave the meeting room, you tap the high-tech wristwatch you wear, which then automatically transforms your attire from the pencil skirt and white dress shirt you wore for work at the library into your high-tech suit. The suit itself is a marvel of modern engineering, designed specifically for covert operations. Made from a lightweight, flexible material known as nanotex, it adapts to your body’s movements, providing both comfort and protection. The outer layer is reinforced with a graphene mesh that can deflect small-caliber bullets and absorb impacts, while the inner layer is equipped with temperature-regulating technology to keep you comfortable in any environment.
Embedded within the suit are a series of micro-circuits that allow for advanced functionalities. A holographic interface on your left forearm can project a variety of tools, from a digital map to hacking devices. The gloves are equipped with micro-suction technology, enabling you to scale vertical surfaces with ease. Your boots contain silent thrusters for controlled leaps and soft landings, ensuring your movements remain undetected. The suit’s most impressive feature, however, is its adaptive camouflage, which can mimic the colors and textures of your surroundings, rendering you nearly invisible in low-light conditions.
You head back to the elevator, this time to leave the headquarters, and when you emerge back on the surface, you’re met by the cold, chilly evening air. You glance up at the moon, taking a moment to center yourself before slipping on the mask that conceals your identity. The mask is crafted from a similar nanotex material as the suit and is fitted with an advanced HUD (heads-up display) that provides real-time data on your surroundings. It also features voice modulation to disguise your voice, and a built-in rebreather allows for up to an hour of air supply in case of emergency. The mask’s exterior is matte black, designed to absorb light and avoid detection, with a sleek, streamlined shape that conforms to your facial structure.
You shoot a grappling device, known as a grapnel gun, into the air. It’s equipped with a high-tensile cable and a powerful winch, allowing you to ascend quickly and quietly to the top of a tall building. The device anchors itself into the wall, and with a quick flick of your wrist, you are pulled up, your body rising effortlessly into the night sky. Stealthily, you jump and move in swift, agile motions across the rooftops, blending into the cityscape as you head towards the museum that houses The Midnight Watch.
Upon reaching the museum, you find an entrance through an open window on the roof. You move with careful precision, avoiding the beams of light from the security cameras and the paths of patrolling guards. Your suit’s camouflage feature helps you blend into the shadows, making you nearly invisible. Just as the data earlier described, the museum is heavily guarded. The question of why it’s so heavily protected lingers in your mind, adding to the mystery.
Finding a vantage point on the roof, you settle into the shadows, your form melding seamlessly with the darkness. You scan the area, eyes sharp for any sign of movement. Just then, you catch a glimpse of another figure moving swiftly on the ground, approaching the museum from the opposite side. The fluidity of their movements, the confident strides—it can only be one person. Just as you predicted.
The Crimson Fox.
You watch him effortlessly maneuver through the red laser security beams, his movements so fluid and precise that it almost seems like a choreographed dance. It’s not every day you encounter a thief as skilled as he is—it’s almost as if he moves just like you, with the same blend of agility and precision. Carefully, you shift to a different position, your eyes never leaving him as he edges closer to the painting. Timing it perfectly as he flips in the air, you press a button on your suit, launching a high-tech tracking dart. The dart, sleek and nearly invisible, is designed to embed itself in the target and transmit their location back to your suit’s HUD in real time.
Much to your surprise, he catches it mid-air with his fingers, an impressive feat that makes your eyes widen momentarily. When he lands, just before he can turn his head to pinpoint where the dart came from, you swiftly and silently drop down from your perch, avoiding the lasers with practiced ease. You move in circles, attempting to distract him. He mirrors your movements, staying just a millisecond behind you. The dance of shadows and swift movements continues, each of you testing the other’s limits. You leap into the air, aiming to tackle him, but he’s quick, instantly jumping to another spot, leaving you to land where he had just been.
“You’re pretty good, huh?” he says, his voice deep and sultry. “Too bad you’re not good enough.”
He throws a decoy object into the air, your eyes widening in surprise. You run to the wall, using it as a springboard to propel yourself into the air, catching the object just before it hits a laser. When you turn, you see the Crimson Fox already on the other side of the room, making his way to the museum’s exit hall with the painting in hand. He flashes you a playful wink through his mask before making a run for it. You let out a soft groan of frustration, quickly maneuvering through the lasers to match his pace. Your movements are precise, calculated, but so are his. The chase is on.
Your suit’s augmented reality system projects a map of the museum, highlighting potential exits and security points. You see him head for the nearest exit and you take a shortcut through a series of narrow corridors, hoping to cut him off. As you race through the labyrinthine hallways, your mind races, analyzing his possible routes and strategies.
Bursting out into the main hall, you spot him just a few meters ahead, his figure sleek and confident. You pick up speed, your boots’ silent thrusters giving you an extra burst. Just as he reaches for the door, you leap forward, tackling him to the ground. The painting slips from his grasp, sliding across the marble floor. He rolls with the impact, attempting to pin you, but you’re faster. You twist out of his hold, springing to your feet and blocking his path to the painting. For a moment, the two of you stand there, eyes locked in a silent challenge. “You’re not getting away from me,” you state, your voice firm.
His lips curve into a smirk beneath his mask. “We’ll see about that.”
In a flurry of motion, the fight resumes. He’s fast, but so are you. Each strike and counter-strike is a blur, a testament to both your skills. He lunges forward, aiming a punch at your midsection, but you sidestep just in time, bringing your elbow down toward his back. He twists away, grinning beneath his mask.
“Is that all you’ve got, Agent?” he taunts, his voice laced with mockery.
You remain silent, your expression calm and composed. You know better than to rise to his bait. Instead, you focus on your breathing, your movements, waiting for the perfect moment. He circles you, his eyes gleaming with amusement and challenge.
“Aww, come on, don’t be so cold,” he continues, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I thought we were having fun.”
He throws a high kick toward your head, but you duck under it, countering with a swift jab to his ribs. He grunts, stepping back but quickly recovering. He swipes at your legs with a low kick, attempting to unbalance you. You jump, spinning mid-air to deliver a kick to his chest. He blocks it, but the force pushes him back a step.
“Not bad,” he admits, still smirking. “You’ll have to do better than that, though.”
You narrow your eyes, deciding to up the ante. You feint a punch to his face, and when he moves to block, you pivot, delivering a knee to his stomach. He doubles over slightly, but his reflexes are sharp. He grabs your leg, twisting you off balance. You roll with the motion, using the momentum to bring your other leg around in a sweeping kick that catches him off guard. He stumbles, and you seize the opportunity, launching a rapid series of punches. He blocks most of them, but you manage to land a solid hit to his jaw. He staggers, but then a glint of something mischievous flashes in his eyes.
“You’re pretty impressive,” he breathes, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “But let’s see how you’ll turn this in your favor.”
With that, he pulls out a small, round device from his belt and throws it to the ground. A thick cloud of smoke erupts, enveloping you both. Your vision blurs, the acrid scent stinging your eyes and nose. You cough, trying to clear your senses as you hear his footsteps moving through the haze.
“You think a little smoke will stop me?” you call out, your voice steady despite the irritation in your throat.
“Oh, I don’t expect it to stop you,” his voice echoes back, sly and teasing. “Just slow you down.”
You focus, listening intently. Through the smoke, you catch a faint outline of his figure. You dart forward, aiming for where you think he’ll be. Your fist meets air, but then you feel a presence behind you. You spin around, just in time to block a strike aimed at your back. The two of you exchange blows in the smoke, each trying to gain the upper hand. “Getting tired?” he mocks, his breath hot against your ear as he tries to grapple you. “Hardly,” you reply, your tone icy and controlled.
You twist out of his grasp, elbowing him in the ribs and then landing a punch to his side. He grunts, but you can tell he’s still smirking under that mask. You can almost feel his amusement, his enjoyment of the challenge you present.
As the smoke begins to dissipate, you both emerge from the cloud, circling each other once more. You see a flicker of calculation in his eyes, and you know he’s planning his next move. You brace yourself, ready for whatever trick he has up his sleeve. He lunges again, but this time you’re prepared. You catch his arm, twisting it behind his back and kicking his legs out from under him. He falls to the ground, but he rolls quickly, springing back to his feet with an agility that impresses you despite yourself.
“Seems your little organization knew what they were doing when they decided to send you to catch me,” he says, genuinely this time, his voice breathless but still edged with that mocking tone. “A pity that you won’t be able to succeed, though.”
He reaches for another device, but you’re quicker. You knock it out of his hand, sending it skittering across the floor. He curses under his breath, and for a moment, his playful demeanor drops, replaced by something more serious, more dangerous. The two of you lock eyes, and you can see the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken promise that this isn’t over. He makes a feint to the left, and you move to block, but he spins to the right, his hand darting out to grab the painting. Just as he snatches it, you react, sending a high-tech bullet from your suit, aiming to disable him. But he catches it mid-air, his reflexes astonishing.
“See ya.”
He gives you a quick, mocking salute before disappearing into the shadows, leaving you standing there, hands balled into fists as you seethe with anger.
Just then, you hear footsteps from a fair distance. Quick on your feet, you scale the walls and slip through a shortcut exit just before the security guards catch up. You leap off from the mansion, using your grapnel to swing between buildings. The cityscape blurs around you as you deftly maneuver, finally settling on a rooftop to update the organization.
You tap your in-ear monitor, and it beeps twice, signaling it's ready to record the voice mail. “Agent Sylvil reporting. The Crimson Fox has secured the Midnight Watch and managed to evade capture. His skills are exceptional. I recommend arranging a meeting with the director board to discuss further strategies. Director Han’s assessment was accurate; this mission requires precise and advanced handling.”
Finishing the recording, you send the message. Then, you sit on the rooftop, reflecting on the night’s events. It’s your first encounter with the Crimson Fox, but given his swift escape, you know it definitely won’t be the last. His movements were fluid, his tactics ingenious, and his demeanor… he was infuriatingly confident. As much as his arrogance grated on your nerves, you can’t deny the spark of excitement it ignited. It’s rare to find an adversary who truly challenges you, and the Crimson Fox did just that. His mocking words and playful manner suggested he barely saw you as a threat, which both angered and intrigued you.
You replay the fight in your mind, analyzing each move, each counter. His agility, his quick thinking, his ability to catch your high-tech bullet mid-air—he was indeed a formidable opponent. The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline of the fight, it all reminded you why you chose this life. For all its dangers and secrets, it was moments like these that made it worth it. The cold evening air settles around you, the city below buzzing with life unaware of the silent battles fought above. You take a deep breath, centering yourself. The next encounter with the Crimson Fox will be different. Now that you’ve experienced his capabilities firsthand, you’re more determined than ever to capture him.
The moon casts a silver glow on the rooftop as you stand, your silhouette blending with the night. You glance at the cityscape, your mind already planning the next steps. The mission has just begun, and you’re ready for the challenge. With a final look at the city, you engage your grapnel and swing into the night on your way back to the headquarters, your thoughts focused on the elusive thief and the thrill of the hunt.
Soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the director board. The room is dimly lit, with a long mahogany table at the center. Holographic screens line the walls, displaying various data points and live feeds from different missions around the globe. You take a deep breath, readying yourself for the detailed debriefing. “Good evening,” you begin, your voice calm and composed. “Thank you for convening on such short notice and understanding the urgency of the matter at hand.”
Director Han nods, her eyes fixed on you. “Agent Sylvil, please proceed with your report.”
You activate the holographic projector in the center of the table, which springs to life with a 3D representation of the museum. “As per the mission parameters, I infiltrated the museum housing The Midnight Watch. The Crimson Fox, as predicted, made an appearance.”
The directors listen with utmost attention, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. “What were his methods?” Director Kang asks, his brow furrowed.
“Impressive,” you admit. “He bypassed the security lasers with an ease that suggests extensive training. His movements were calculated, almost as if he anticipated every countermeasure in place.” You replay a section of the surveillance footage, highlighting the Crimson Fox’s agility and precision as he evades the laser beams.
Director Liu interjects, “What can you tell us about his physical capabilities?”
“Exceptional reflexes and strength,” you reply. “During our confrontation, he caught a high-tech bullet I fired at him mid-air, and he moved with a speed that matched my own. We engaged in close combat, where his skills were evident.”
You take a deep breath, ready to recount the encounter with precision. “The fight was intense, a true test of both our abilities. It began with me tackling him down on the ground, but he was quick on his feet to slip out of my grasp.”
The directors lean in, listening intently. “He anticipated my next move, sidestepping just in time to avoid a follow-up strike. His agility is remarkable. As I pivoted to face him, he used a spinning kick aimed at my head, but I ducked and swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground, but he recovered almost instantly, rolling away and springing back to his feet.”
You pause, replaying the vivid memories in your mind. “We exchanged a series of blows—punches, kicks, blocks, you name it. Each move was met with a counter. His fighting style is unconventional, incorporating elements of various martial arts, which made it difficult to predict. He doesn’t adhere to a single discipline, which kept me on my toes.”
Director Han nods, gesturing for you to continue. “What about his defensive maneuvers?” she pushes further while spinning a pen in her hand, trying to ground the feeling of being on edge consuming her.
“He’s incredibly adaptive,” you explain. “When I attempted a grappling technique, aiming to subdue him, he twisted his body with an almost serpentine flexibility, breaking free from my hold. He then countered with a palm strike to my sternum, knocking me back a few steps. His strikes were precise, targeting vulnerable points with pinpoint accuracy.”
Director Kang interjects, “And how did you manage to gain the upper hand?”
“I capitalized on his momentary lapse in focus,” you reply. “After a particularly aggressive exchange, he hesitated for a fraction of a second—perhaps assessing his next move. I seized that moment to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to his side, sending him staggering. He stumbled, clearly winded, and that’s when I thought I had him.”
You pause, the memory still fresh. “But he’s resourceful. Before I could press my advantage, he reached into his belt and pulled out a small device—a smoke bomb. He threw it to the ground, and within seconds, a thick cloud of smoke enveloped us. I tried to locate him, but the visibility was almost zero.”
The directors furrow their brows as you continue. “The fight continued within the smoke. I could barely see him, but I could hear his movements. He used the smoke to his advantage, striking from unexpected angles. I had to rely on my other senses, listening for the slightest sound, feeling the air shift with his movements.”
You lean forward, emphasizing the intensity of the moment. “He came at me from the side, delivering a quick succession of punches. I managed to block most of them, but one caught my shoulder, pushing me back. I retaliated with a low sweep, hoping to trip him, but he jumped over my leg and countered with a kick aimed at my head.”
Director Liu looks concerned. “And you were fighting blind?”
“Essentially, yes,” you confirm. “But so was he, to some extent. It became a test of reflexes and instincts. I landed a solid hit to his midsection, forcing him to stumble back, but he quickly recovered. He moved with an eerie precision, almost as if he could see through the smoke.”
“At one point, I managed to land another solid strike, knocking him off balance. He was momentarily disoriented, and I moved in to finish it. But he was one step ahead of me, and so he escaped by disappearing into the shadows before I could initiate my next move,” you conclude.
Director Kang speaks up, “His use of the smoke bomb indicates he was prepared for a prolonged fight. This suggests he knew he might encounter resistance and planned accordingly.”
“Indeed,” you agree. “His preparation and adaptability make him a formidable opponent. He’s not just skilled in combat but also in tactical evasion. This was not a random act of theft—he’s calculated and strategic in his approach.”
Director Han taps her fingers on the table thoughtfully. “What about his demeanor? Any psychological insights?”
You pause, recalling the encounter. “Mocking and confident. He seems to enjoy the thrill of the chase, using sarcasm and taunts to unnerve his opponents. He referred to our skills as ‘not good enough’ and even threw a decoy object to distract me while he made his escape.”
Director Kang leans back in his chair, contemplating. “So, he’s not just skilled but also psychologically manipulative. This makes him a more dangerous adversary.”
“Agreed,” you nod. “He managed to secure The Midnight Watch and evade capture. His confidence suggests he has faced numerous challenges and emerged victorious.”
Director Liu turns to you, her expression serious. “Agent Sylvil, how do you propose we proceed?”
You take a deep breath. “Given his capabilities, we need a multi-faceted approach. Increased surveillance on potential targets, advanced countermeasures tailored to his techniques, and psychological profiling to predict his next move. Additionally, I recommend setting traps designed specifically to counter his known strategies.”
The directors nod, absorbing your suggestions. Director Han speaks up, “We’ll allocate additional resources to this mission. It’s clear that the Crimson Fox is not an ordinary thief.”
Director Kang adds, “We should also consider the possibility of a mole within our ranks. His knowledge of the museum’s security was too precise to be a coincidence.”
The meeting continues, with each director contributing their insights and strategies. They discuss deploying additional agents, enhancing technological defenses, and setting up surveillance in key locations. The holographic screens flicker with data as plans are formulated.
After an extensive discussion, Director Han turns to you. “Agent Sylvil, this mission is now your top priority. We trust your expertise and judgment to bring the Crimson Fox to justice.”
You straighten your posture, a sense of determination filling you. “Understood. I will not let him slip through our fingers again.”
With that, the meeting adjourns. The directors disperse, leaving you to finalize the details of the new strategies. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, the weight of the mission settling on your shoulders. As you leave the meeting room, you take a moment to gather your thoughts before deciding to head to the tech experts’ department, mind already racing with plans and the need for advanced equipment to catch the elusive Crimson Fox. Once you arrive at a secure door, you swipe your ID card, and the door slides open with a soft hiss, revealing the hub of innovation where the brightest minds in the organization work tirelessly.
Inside, the atmosphere is one of focused intensity. Technicians and engineers huddle over holographic interfaces, 3D printers whirr as they produce prototype components, and large screens display streams of data from ongoing missions. You spot Dr. Yoo, the head of the tech department, a sharp-eyed woman with a mind as quick as her hands. “Agent Sylvil,” Dr. Yoo greets you with a nod, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of the urgency you must feel. “What brings you here?”
“Dr. Yoo,” you begin, “I need your team’s help. The Crimson Fox is unlike any adversary we’ve faced. His skills are exceptional, and our current surveillance capabilities aren’t enough. I need enhancements in surveillance tech, innovative traps, and some upgrades to my suit and weaponry.”
Dr. Yoo’s eyes gleam with interest. “Ah, yes. Director Han had informed me of your mission beforehand. Surveillance enhancements, you say? We can certainly help with that.” She leads you to a workstation where several screens display live feeds from various parts of the city. “We’ve been developing a new type of drone—silent, virtually invisible to the naked eye, and equipped with AI-driven tracking algorithms. These drones can patrol a set perimeter, identify unusual patterns, and follow targets without being detected.”
She types a few commands, and a small, sleek drone materializes on a platform beside her. “We call it the ��Ghost Falcon.’ It can relay real-time data back to your wrist device, providing you with constant updates on the target’s location and movements.”
“Next, for trapping mechanisms,” Dr. Yoo continues, walking over to another section of the lab, “we've been working on deployable traps that can be used in urban environments. These include smart tripwires that can be set up quickly and remotely activated, and adhesive gel bombs that can immobilize a target upon contact.”
She gestures to a table where various gadgets are laid out. “These are our latest models. The tripwires are nearly invisible and can send an alert to your wrist device when triggered. The adhesive gel bombs can be thrown or launched from a distance, endangering anyone within its range.”
“Now, let’s talk about your suit.” Dr. Yoo pulls up a holographic model of your current suit, spinning it in the air with a swipe. “I propose we upgrade your suit with enhanced plating—lightweight but incredibly strong, along with new functions.”
She points to the wrist section of the hologram. “We’ll also integrate advanced tech into your gloves. These can now emit an electromagnetic pulse to disable electronic devices temporarily, which could come in handy if the Crimson Fox uses tech against you.”
“And for weaponry,” Dr. Yoo says, moving to a locked cabinet, “we have some new additions. Here’s a high-frequency stun baton, designed to incapacitate without permanent damage. It has an extendable reach, allowing you to engage from a safe distance.”
She unlocks the cabinet, revealing a sleek, compact crossbow. “This is a micro-crossbow, firing tranquilizer darts with pinpoint accuracy. It’s silent and effective, perfect for stealth operations.”
You straighten yourself, feeling a renewed sense of readiness. “Thank you, Dr. Yoo. These upgrades will make a significant difference.”
Dr. Yoo nods, her expression serious. “We’re all counting on you, Agent Sylvil. Catching the Crimson Fox is crucial.”
After finalizing your discussions with the tech experts, you make your way to the elevator. The high-tech suit clings to your form, feeling like a second skin. As you descend, you press a sequence of buttons on your wristwatch. The suit begins to morph, retracting seamlessly into the wristwatch. The material shifts and transforms, layer by layer, until it becomes the familiar fabric of your pencil skirt and white dress shirt. By the time the elevator doors open to the surface, you appear as the diligent librarian once more, ready to blend into the mundane world outside. The cold evening air greets you, a stark contrast to the high-tech environment you just left. You draw a deep breath, allowing the exhaustion to surface as you make your way home.
The walk home feels interminable. Each step is heavy, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you. Your muscles protest, a dull ache from the intense physical exertion of your encounter with the Crimson Fox. Your mind races with thoughts of strategies and the upgrades to your equipment. Streetlights cast long shadows, and the city’s hum is a distant background noise as you finally reach your apartment building. The familiar sight brings a small sense of relief, a sanctuary from the day’s demands.
As soon as you step inside your apartment, the weight of the day seems to lift slightly. You drop your bag from your shoulder, the thud it makes as it hits the floor symbolizing the shedding of your burdens. You pick it back up and hang it on the rack by the door, a habit that brings a sense of order to the chaos of your life. Slipping off your heels, you place them neatly on the shoe rack, taking a moment to appreciate the simple comfort of being barefoot.
You move through your apartment, each step bringing you closer to the sanctuary of your room. The familiar surroundings offer a sense of comfort. Your room is a haven, a place where you can let down your guard. You take off your glasses, placing them carefully on your bedside table. The act of changing into comfortable clothes feels like removing a layer of tension. In the bathroom, you splash cool water on your face, the sensation refreshing and grounding. Finally, you collapse onto your bed, sinking into the mattress with a deep sigh, the weight of the day slipping away.
Lying on your bed, you stare at the ceiling, your mind replaying the events of the day in vivid detail. The meeting with the directors, each face etched with concern and determination, lingers at the forefront of your thoughts. The weight of their expectations had been palpable, each word and directive underscoring the gravity of the mission. Director Han’s gaze and the gravity in her tone emphasized the importance of capturing the Crimson Fox. As you recalled your encounter, the room had been silent, each director hanging on your every word. The fight had been more than a mere physical confrontation; it was a battle of wits, a dance of strategy and skill.
The discussions with the tech department replay in your mind as well. Their enthusiasm and expertise were evident as they explained the new modifications and enhancements they would integrate into your suit. Each upgrade was meticulously designed, aimed at giving you the edge needed to outmaneuver the Crimson Fox. The advanced surveillance systems, the innovative traps, and the weapon enhancements—all crafted to ensure your success. You could still hear the excitement in their voices, their confidence in their technology bolstering your resolve. They believed in you, and that belief was a powerful motivator.
But most of all, the encounter with the Crimson Fox dominates your thoughts. Every detail is etched into your memory: the way he moved, the confidence in his stride, the playful yet calculating glint in his eyes. His skills were astonishing, each move calculated and precise, as if he had been doing this for years. Yet he was a new thief on the scene, his methods untraceable, his origins unknown. His confidence, his playful demeanor—it was unnerving and intriguing. He had treated the confrontation like a game, his taunts laced with mockery and challenge. It was almost as if he knew he was untouchable, as if he thrived on the thrill of the chase.
You find yourself replaying the fight in your mind, analyzing each move, each tactic. His agility, his quick reflexes, the way he anticipated your actions—it all points to extensive training and experience. But where did he come from? How did he develop such skills? The mystery of his identity gnaws at you, a puzzle that refuses to be solved. You can still feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the intensity of the fight, the close calls, and the moment when he slipped through your grasp.
Who was he? The question echoes in your mind, refusing to be silenced. Capturing him is no longer just about completing your mission or earning a promotion. It’s about understanding him, uncovering the mystery behind the mask. Each taunt, each move he made seemed to be a clue, a piece of a larger puzzle. You realize that this chase is only the beginning of a much larger game, a game that you are determined to win. His motives remain unclear. Why target “The Midnight Watch”? The painting, while appearing to be valuable, seemed an unusual choice for such a high-profile thief.
His confidence, his playful demeanor—there was something almost familiar about it, a nagging sensation at the back of your mind. It was as if you had encountered this kind of adversary before, someone who enjoyed the thrill of the game as much as the spoils. Yet, despite his confidence and skill, he had shown respect in his own way, acknowledging your abilities, even if through taunts and challenges. It was a strange dynamic, one that you couldn’t quite place. Was he testing you? Pushing you to see how far you could go?
You turn over, closing your eyes after setting an alarm for work tomorrow. Plans and strategies swirl in your mind, interwoven with the enigmatic figure of the Crimson Fox. His skills, his words, his smirk—they all replay in your mind as you drift off to sleep.
The blaring sound of your alarm rouses you from sleep, and you groan softly as sunlight filters through the curtains, striking your face. You sit up slowly, yawning and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Glancing at your phone, you see that you still have an hour before the library opens. Determined to start your day right, you stretch and stand, moving to fix your bed, smoothing out the sheets and fluffing the pillows until everything is neatly in place.
Heading to the bathroom, you begin your morning routine. First, you splash cold water on your face, waking yourself up fully. Then, you wash your face with a gentle cleanser, massaging it into your skin before rinsing it off with warm water. After patting your face dry with a soft towel, you apply a refreshing toner, followed by a light moisturizer to keep your skin hydrated. You then hop into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you lather shampoo into your hair, rinse, and follow with a conditioner. After washing your body with a fragrant body wash, you rinse off and step out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel.
Once you finish drying off, you brush your teeth thoroughly, ensuring they are clean and fresh. You run a comb through your hair, detangling any knots, and then blow-dry it until it falls into a smooth, manageable style. Returning to your bedroom, you open your closet and run your hand along the rack, considering your options for the day.
You settle on a chic yet professional outfit that perfectly balances style and sophistication. You choose a tailored, knee-length pencil skirt in a deep navy blue, which hugs your figure while maintaining a professional appearance. Paired with it, you opt for a crisp white blouse with subtle ruffle detailing along the neckline and cuffs, adding a touch of femininity and elegance. Over the blouse, you wear a fitted blazer in a matching navy blue, cinched at the waist with a slim belt. The outfit is completed with a pair of sleek black heels, adding a bit of height and polish to your look. Underneath the sleeve of your blazer, you securely fasten your high-tech wristwatch, ensuring it's discreetly hidden but easily accessible.
You sit down at your vanity, turning on the lighted mirror to begin fixing yourself up. Once you’re satisfied with your facial look, you move on to your hair, deciding on a sophisticated yet simple style. After a final check in the mirror, you stand and give yourself one last glance in the full-length mirror, ensuring everything is in place.
Grabbing your bag, you head to the entrance, slipping into your black heels and making sure they are comfortable. You hang your bag over your shoulder and step out, locking the door behind you. The cool morning air greets you as you begin your usual walk to the library. The streets are still quiet, the hustle and bustle of the day yet to begin.
You arrive at the library, pulling up the metal shutter and inserting your keys into the door, the familiar click bringing a small measure of comfort as you step inside. The familiar scent of books and the quiet ambiance welcome you, and you take a deep breath, feeling a sense of calmness as you prepare for the day ahead. You turn on the lights, arrange the new arrivals on the display, and make sure everything is in order before opening the doors to the public. Once you’re finished, you head to the door to flip the sign from “Closed” to “Open,” walking back to the registrar afterwards. You then sit down, ready to immerse yourself in the tasks at hand.
A steady stream of patrons then eventually begin to fill the space, each one on a mission to either borrow new books or return their previous selections. The sound of footsteps, hushed conversations, and the rustling of pages creates a symphony of activity that fills the otherwise quiet room. You find yourself at the center of it all, seated behind the front desk, diligently managing the influx of customers.
Your fingers fly over the keyboard as you enter return dates and update records in the computer system. The scanner beeps rhythmically as you process each book, ensuring every title is properly logged back into the library’s inventory. Every now and then, a patron asks for recommendations or assistance finding a particular book, and you offer them a warm smile and helpful advice. The hours seem to blend together in a blur of transactions and interactions.
The morning passes quickly, the library bustling with activity. You barely have time to notice the growing stack of returned books piling up beside your desk. Just as you reach for another book to scan, a familiar voice breaks through the din, pulling you from your focused trance.
“Hey there.”
You tear your eyes away from the computer screen and manage a small smile upon recognizing the speaker. “Oh, hey, Wooyoung.” His presence is a welcome distraction, and you notice the book he places on the counter—“The History of Art,” the same one he borrowed before.
“Finished reading it already? You’re pretty fast,” you muse, engaging in small talk as you take the book and begin the process of returning it to the system. You scan the barcode, ensuring the book is properly checked back in and available for other patrons.
“Yep. Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Wooyoung replies, leaning casually against the counter, pulling down the sleeves of his hoodie slightly—why does he always choose to wear such items of clothing despite the blazing weather?
You chuckle softly. “This book must have been really useful for you, huh?” You glance at the computer screen as the system confirms the book’s return, then move to type in some additional notes.
For a moment, there’s a comfortable silence between you, filled only by the clicking of your keyboard. You can feel Wooyoung’s gaze on you, and although it’s not directly in your line of sight, his attention is palpable. Keeping your eyes on the computer, you address the unspoken question. “Is something the matter?”
“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat, seeming slightly flustered. “I just... you look pretty tired?”
Your eyebrows lift in surprise at his comment, and you tilt your head curiously. “Do I?” You open the desk drawer and pull out a small hand mirror, angling it to inspect your reflection. Indeed, there are faint dark circles under your eyes, subtle but noticeable upon closer inspection. “Huh.”
Wooyoung shifts slightly, his concern genuine despite his earlier teasing tone. “Yeah, just a bit. Rough night?”
You nod slightly, placing the mirror back in the drawer. “You could say that. Just some work stuff keeping me up.”
He offers a sympathetic smile. “Well, don’t push yourself too hard. You need rest too, you know.”
You smile back, appreciating his concern. “Thanks, Wooyoung. I’ll try to take it easy.”
As the conversation lulls, you finish updating the system with the returned book and place it on the cart to be reshelved later. Wooyoung lingers for a moment longer, seemingly hesitant to leave.
“So, are you borrowing anything new today?” you ask, shifting the topic back to the library’s purpose.
He seems to snap out of his thoughts and grins. “Actually, yes. I was thinking of diving into something different this time. Any recommendations?”
You stand, gesturing for him to follow you. “Sure, let’s see what we can find.” As you walk through the aisles, you turn to Wooyoung, genuinely curious about his reading preferences. He’s busy looking around, so when he fails to notice you stopping in your tracks, his chest bumps into your shoulder blades, and he hisses lightly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Your eyebrows shoot up in concern, and just as you’re about to hold your hand forward to touch his chest, you quickly retract it, realizing you might make him uncomfortable. It seems as if you’re both on the same page, as he immediately took a step back.
“Don’t mind it,” he waves you off. “Were you gonna ask me something?” he inquires, hoping to steer away from what just happened. Thankfully, you had the same intention as well, so you go along with his flow.
“I was gonna ask if there’s any topic or genre you’re particularly interested in lately?” You tilt your head as you wait for his answer, eager to find the perfect recommendations for him.
Wooyoung scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Actually, I’ve been fascinated by the history of rare and valuable artifacts recently. Especially those from ancient civilizations.”
You raise an eyebrow in surprise. It’s a rather specific and intriguing interest. “Oh, great choice. I’ve got a few recommendations for that.” You smile, leading him toward the section dedicated to ancient artifacts and their histories.
You proceed to guide Wooyoung through the aisle dedicated to ancient artifacts, pulling out a book titled “Lost Treasures of the Ancient World” and handing it to him. “This one covers a variety of artifacts from different civilizations, including their historical significance and the stories behind their discoveries,” you explain, flipping through the pages to show him illustrations of ancient relics.
Wooyoung’s eyes light up with interest as he examines the pages. “Wow, look at this!” he whisper-shouts, pointing to a detailed map of archaeological sites. “I didn’t realize there were so many different ancient civilizations with their own treasures.”
You nod, smiling. “This book also discusses how these treasures were unearthed and the challenges faced by archaeologists.”
“That must be an adventure in itself,” Wooyoung remarks with a grin. “Imagine digging up an ancient tomb and finding treasures untouched for thousands of years.”
You proceed to pull out another book from the shelves, titled “The Secrets of Ancient Egypt: From Pharaohs to Treasure Hunters.” You lend him the book, explaining its coverage soon after. “This delves into the world of Egyptian artifacts, their mystical significance, and the pharaohs who were entombed with them.”
Wooyoung’s gaze is fixed on a page depicting hieroglyphics. “Egyptian mythology sure is fascinating,” he muses, tracing the symbols with his finger. “It’s like a window into a world where gods and mortals coexisted.”
You smile, enjoying his enthusiasm. “I can’t say I don’t agree. The mysteries of the pyramids and the rituals surrounding mummification are endlessly captivating.”
As you reach for “The Tools of the Ancients: Craftsmanship and Innovation,” you explain, “This book explores the tools and techniques used by ancient civilizations to create these masterpieces.” You show him illustrations of ancient tools and artifacts, discussing their ingenious designs.
Wooyoung’s curiosity is piqued. “You know, things like this always makes me wonder how they achieved such precision without modern technology,” he muses, examining the diagrams closely. “Their craftsmanship was truly ahead of its time.”
As you discuss each book, you can’t help but notice how animated Wooyoung becomes. His genuine curiosity and passion for ancient history are evident in his questions and comments, and you find yourself enjoying the conversation as much as he does.
“Have you always been interested in ancient artifacts?” You turn to him, genuinely curious about his newfound passion.
He smiles, setting down the last book. “Not always,” he admits with a chuckle. “But recently, I’ve found myself drawn to the stories behind these artifacts. They’re like puzzle pieces that unlock secrets from the past.”
You nod in agreement. “It’s incredible how each artifact has its own story to tell, connecting us to our ancestors and their way of life. It’s like uncovering hidden secrets from a forgotten world.”
The moment lingers, a shared understanding passing between you as you find yourself staring into his eyes perhaps a little longer than you’re supposed to. But then you blink, breaking the spell, and turn back to the books. “Well, I think you’re all set with these,” you say warmly, gesturing to the stack he’s accumulated. “I hope you find them as fascinating as I do.”
“I’m sure I will,” he replies sincerely. “Thanks again for your help. I really appreciate it.”
“It’s my pleasure,” you say, smiling warmly. “Let me know if you need anything else,” you tell him, and he gives you a nod before heading towards the checkout desk with his books, soon then leaving the library.
Returning to the registrar desk, you settle back into your routine. You begin by sorting through the stack of returned books, scanning each one into the computer system to update their status. You take a moment to check the condition of each book, making sure none of them need repairs or special attention before placing them on the cart for reshelving. Next, you turn your attention to the online catalog, processing requests from patrons who have reserved books. You locate the requested items on the shelves behind the desk, scan them out, and prepare them for pickup. Each step requires careful attention to detail, ensuring that every book is accounted for and properly logged in the system.
While you’re engrossed in your work, your invisible in-ear monitor suddenly beeps softly, indicating a new voicemail. Dr. Yoo’s voice then comes through clearly, though only you can hear it. “Agent Sylvil, the tech team has successfully infiltrated the security cameras around the city. We’re now gathering all available footage of the Crimson Fox. I’ll update you with any significant findings as soon as we have them. Stay alert and be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
When the message finishes, you find yourself lost in thought, momentarily blanking out while keeping your eyes on your computer’s screen. The usual hum of the library fades into the background as you process Dr. Yoo’s update. You look outside the door, met with the sight of the city, and begin wondering if the security camera footage will be of any help. The Crimson Fox’s elusive nature and your recent encounter with him make you skeptical. Given how vigilant he was, it's safe to assume he’s smart enough to avoid being caught on security cameras. But still, you hope for the best-case scenario while also calculating the worst.
You let out a quiet sigh. The city is a vast web of streets and buildings, each with its own secrets. If the tech team can pinpoint his movements, it could provide the breakthrough you need. But the Crimson Fox is no ordinary thief; his agility and skills make him a formidable opponent. He’s proven to be a master of evasion, and underestimating him would be a mistake.
You then redirect your attention to your duties. You start by organizing the returned books, scanning each one into the system. The rhythmic beep of the scanner helps ground you in the present. Each book, once scanned, is carefully examined for any damage before being placed on a cart for reshelving.
Your mind continues to race with thoughts of the Crimson Fox as you process the books. You can’t help but wonder about his next move. What artifact will he target next? What’s his endgame? These questions swirl in your mind, adding a layer of intrigue to your day. As you print out a list of overdue books, your thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of a young student at the desk. He looks nervous, clutching a piece of paper. “Excuse me, can you help me find this book for my project?” he asks, nervously fiddling with the paper in his hands.
“Of course,” you reply with a warm smile, taking the paper from him. “Let’s see what you need.” The request momentarily distracts you from your thoughts about the Crimson Fox, and you guide the student to the appropriate section, helping him locate the reference book he needs.
Returning to the desk, you draft reminder emails for patrons with overdue books. Each email is crafted with care, politely reminding them to return their borrowed items and offering assistance if they need to renew their loans. You take a moment to analyze the circulation statistics, noting which genres are most popular this month and which sections might need restocking.
You take a brief moment to stretch and sip some water. As you glance around the library, you feel a sense of pride in maintaining this peaceful, orderly environment. However, the tech team's success in accessing the city’s security cameras keeps your thoughts anchored to your mission. The possibility of tracking the Crimson Fox through the footage gives you hope, despite the challenges.
Refreshed from your quick break, you dive back into your duties. You stand up from your chair, leaving the counter and taking the cart with you as you begin reshelving the books. You start with the fiction section, carefully placing each book back in its designated spot, making sure the spines are perfectly aligned. You run your fingers along the shelves, ensuring no books are out of order. Moving on to non-fiction, you double-check the Dewey Decimal System numbers, adjusting any misplaced titles. Each book finds its home, from biographies to history volumes.
You take your time with the children’s section, making sure the colorful picture books are easily accessible for little hands. You arrange them neatly, occasionally straightening the whimsical displays. The library feels like an extension of yourself, every detail meticulously managed. Once you finished, you head back to the registrar, resuming your work. The steady rhythm of scanning and processing books returns. Patrons come and go, each interaction brief but pleasant. You answer questions, provide recommendations, and handle transactions with practiced ease.
The day passes by like a blur, and now it’s time for you to close the library. You shut down your computer, standing up and leaving the counter. Thankfully, there are no longer any people around, so you are free to clean and close up the library without worrying about offending anyone by announcing closing hours. You start tidying up the tables, collecting stray books and magazines left behind. You wipe down surfaces, ensuring everything is spotless. Chairs are pushed back under tables, and scattered newspapers are neatly stacked. You walk through the aisles one last time, straightening books and making sure everything is in order.
When you’re done, you head back to the reception desk, taking your bag and pulling out the keys. You step outside, locking the door and pulling down the metal shutter, securing the library for the night. With the library closed, you head to the headquarters, needing to talk to Dr. Yoo for updates regarding the city’s surveillance cameras and any footage of the Crimson Fox. The walk to the headquarters is brisk, your mind focused on the mission ahead.
Once you arrive, you go straight to the tech lab. Dr. Yoo notices your presence immediately and makes her way to you. “Agent Sylvil,” she greets you with a nod.
“Dr. Yoo,” you respond. “Any updates on the surveillance cameras?”
“Follow me,” she says, leading you to the surveillance monitoring room. The walls are lined with multiple screens, each displaying footage from various cameras across the city.
She points to one of the screens. “Unfortunately, he was only caught on this camera, and it was just for a millisecond.” You lean in closer, studying the footage. The image is fleeting, barely a blur of movement. “Impressive,” you murmur, noting how he managed to evade capture on almost every camera.
Dr. Yoo nods. “We did, however, identify a pattern. The footage indicates he’s frequenting an area known for housing valuable artifacts. We’re cross-referencing his movements with known high-value targets in the vicinity.”
You consider this information, thinking back to his skill and precision during your last encounter. “Good work,” you say. “Let’s focus on that area. Enhance surveillance and see if we can predict his next move.”
Dr. Yoo agrees, already making notes. “We’ll get on it right away. I’ll keep you updated with any new developments.”
As you head home, your mind keeps circling back to the surveillance footage. Dr. Yoo had advised patience, emphasizing the importance of gathering more intel before making a move. But the idea of waiting gnaws at you. The thrill of a direct confrontation, the challenge of outsmarting the Crimson Fox, calls to you with an irresistible pull.
Walking down the path to where you live, you make a snap decision. Doing a full 180, you tap your wristwatch, feeling the familiar hum as your attire shifts into your high-tech suit. Your pencil skirt and blouse are replaced by sleek, reinforced material designed for agility and protection. Without hesitation, you break into a run, heading towards the location where the Crimson Fox was last seen. Your gut tells you that he’s there, and you trust your instincts.
Arriving at the vicinity, you find the area shrouded in darkness. The moon provides the only light, casting an eerie glow on the deserted streets. The blackout could be a coincidence, but you know better. The Crimson Fox is meticulous. This power outage is likely part of his plan to operate undetected.
You proceed cautiously, every sense on high alert. Suddenly, you detect a slight motion behind you. Your training kicks in, and you react swiftly. Spinning around, you catch sight of him just as he reaches out to strike. You grab his hand, using his momentum to flip him over and slam him onto the ground. Your knees pin his arms, your hands securing his neck.
A strained laugh escapes him. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon. Missed me?” His voice is mocking, yet there’s a hint of admiration beneath the bravado.
“Does it ever dawn to you how infuriating you are?” you reply, tightening your grip on his neck. “And to answer your question, not particularly—but I do intend to make sure I’m the last thing you’ll remember before you get knocked out.”
His eyes gleam with amusement even as he struggles to breathe. “Confident, aren’t you? Let’s see if you can back it up.”
He reaches for a rock nearby, aiming to strike your head. You react instantly, intercepting his hand and preventing the blow. Using the distraction, he shifts his weight, pushing you off balance. You roll to the side, springing to your feet with practiced ease. He’s up as well, a sly smile on his lips as he brushes himself off.
“You’re quick, I’ll give you that,” he says, circling you warily.
“And you’re annoyingly persistent,” you retort, matching his movements.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s a gift.”
The tension between you is palpable, each of you waiting for the other to make a move. He lunges first, aiming a high kick at your head. You duck and counter with a swift punch to his ribs. He twists away, his foot lashing out to sweep your legs. You jump, landing a kick to his shoulder that sends him staggering back.
“Is that all you can give me, Agent?” he taunts, recovering quickly.
“It wouldn’t be, had you been given a dead or alive bounty hanging over your head,” you reply, your tone ice-cold. You launch into a series of rapid strikes, each one aimed with precision. He blocks most, but you manage to land a few solid hits.
“I think you just don’t want to hurt me,” he whispers in your ear from behind, attempting to strangle you, but you’re quicker than the speed of light to duck down and sweep him off his feet.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’d gladly leave nothing of you but your blood on the floor if you weren’t so important.” You take a step back, an eye twitching over that stupid confident look in his eyes you could see through his mask. The two of you continue to move in a deadly dance, each anticipating the other’s moves with uncanny accuracy.
“You know, you’re making this more fun than I expected,” he admits, dodging a particularly vicious punch.
“Do you ever stop talking? I’m not here for your entertainment,” you snap, delivering a powerful kick that he barely deflects.
“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, grinning. The fight intensifies, each of you pushing your limits. The Crimson Fox’s strikes are swift and calculated, but you match his every move with precision and strength. In the midst of the clash, he chuckles, his breath coming in short bursts.
“I wasn’t expecting you to strike so soon, honestly,” he admits, dodging a high kick aimed at his head. “Aren’t agents like you supposed to prioritize patience and analysis over rash actions?”
You block his punch and counter with a swift jab to his ribs, your expression stoic. “You don’t know anything about me.”
He laughs, sidestepping your next attack. “A bit touchy, aren’t we? Don’t you think that attitude is a bit unethical for a top secret agent—”
You cut him off with a solid punch to his jaw, the force of the blow snapping his head to the side, and you hear the sound of blood dripping down the ground. You don’t give him a moment to recover, immediately gripping the collar of his suit to bring him close to you. “Project your stereotypes onto me one more time and I’ll knock your teeth so far down your throat you’ll be flossing with your intestines.”
He shakes his head, a wry smile forming on his lips as he straightens up and pushes you off of him. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
You don’t respond, focusing instead on your next move. He feints to the left, and you’re ready, delivering a kick that he barely dodges. He’s finding you more than just a worthy adversary; he’s genuinely intrigued.
“Most people would be intimidated by now,” he remarks, catching your leg and twisting, trying to throw you off balance.
You roll with the motion, using it to your advantage as you flip back to your feet. “Most people aren’t me.”
He chuckles, clearly amused. “Yeah?”
The two of you continue your fierce exchange, the night air filled with the sounds of your combat. He’s fast, but you’re faster, your movements fluid and precise. Despite his mocking demeanor, you can see the respect growing in his eyes. The fight between you and the Crimson Fox continues with an intensity that fills the darkened area. You push yourself to dominate, leveraging every skill you’ve honed over the years. He matches you move for move, but you sense a shift—he’s beginning to tire, and you’re gaining the upper hand.
You catch him off guard by grabbing his wrist and twisting it before forcing him to the ground, his amusement only fueling your resolve. With practiced precision, you pin him down, his hands restrained beneath your knee. As you draw a dagger from your suit's concealed pocket, you pull his head back by his hair, and he tilts his head behind with all his strength to look into your eyes.
“You think you’ve got me pinned, don’t you?” he grunts, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and frustration. “But this game isn’t over until I say it is.”
“You’re not calling the shots here. I am,” you reply, your voice a steely whisper. The sight of blood seeping from beneath his mask and dripping onto the ground doesn’t faze you.
“You’re just as relentless as they say, aren’t you? Always chasing, never stopping to think,” he continues, trying to get under your skin.
“Save your breath,” you say, pressing down harder. “You’ll need it for when you’re behind bars.”
Just then, the power returns, flooding the area with light. The sudden brightness reveals the surroundings, and you both feel the shift. The Crimson Fox tenses beneath you, his surprise evident. It’s clear he didn’t see this coming, either. Realizing the cameras could be operational and your cover could be blown, you act quickly. You release him and leap to your feet, and he does the same.
“This isn’t over,” you state, your voice low and stoic, eyes filled with a fiery gaze.
He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Sure hope it isn’t.” With that, he melds into the shadows, disappearing down a different route.
You waste no time in escaping the now well-lit area, aware of the surveillance cameras and the implications of being seen. These cameras are not just ordinary security measures; they are infiltrated by your organization, and it wouldn’t be a bad thing in different circumstances, but the catch is that you’re not supposed to be going off to do your duties without informing the director board beforehand. If they catch wind of this unsanctioned operation, there would be serious repercussions.
As you make your way back, your thoughts churn. The Crimson Fox might be right—this was a rash decision. You acted on instinct, driven by the desire to catch him before he could commit another theft. But it’s definitely not a regrettable one. You learned a lot from this encounter: his fighting style, his resilience, and most importantly, that even he can be taken by surprise.
You wake up at dawn, the room still shrouded in darkness. A persistent beeping pulls you from sleep. Groggily, you reach for your phone, thinking you set your work alarm too early. It takes a moment before you realize the sound is not coming from your phone but from your wristwatch. You tap it, and a holographic screen flickers to life, displaying Director Han. Her expression is anything but pleasant. She looks mad, even.
“Agent,” she says curtly, “report to headquarters immediately. There are important matters we need to discuss.” Your stomach drops.
They know about last night.
You get up from your bed, a mix of dread and defiance coursing through you. You acted without orders, but you gained valuable information and prevented a theft. Surely, that counts for something.
With a sigh, you begin your morning routine far earlier than intended. You wash your face, take a shower, brush your teeth, and change into your professional attire. For today, you chose to wear a crimson red dress shirt along with a knee-length black pencil skirt, pairing it with black stockings and heels of the same color. Once you’re fully prepared, you make your way to headquarters, the early morning chill biting at your skin.
Upon arrival, a fellow agent greets you, informing you that the director board is waiting in the meeting room. The director board? You expected only Director Han. This is bigger than you thought.
You enter the room, and the atmosphere is tense. The directors look unhappy, their eyes fixed on you. Clearing your throat, you decide to cut straight to the point. “What’s the matter?”
Director Kang taps a button at the center of the table, projecting a holographic screen that shows a millisecond of footage—of you, running away, caught by the surveillance camera where you fought the Crimson Fox.
“What’s this?” Director Kang asks, though his tone implies he already knows the answer.
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” you reply, crossing your arms.
Director Liu joins in, her voice cold. “Do you not understand the gravity of your actions? What you did was a blatant violation of protocol. I believe you aren’t aware of the gravity of your actions.”
You suppress a groan. Seriously?
“Then enlighten me, Director,” you deadpan, maintaining a stoic facade despite your sarcasm.
Director Kang leans forward, steepling his fingers. “Our handbook clearly states in Section 4, Paragraph 12, that ‘agents must obtain explicit authorization from a superior before engaging in field operations.’ You acted independently, without orders.”
Director Liu chimes in, “This isn’t just a minor infraction. It’s a severe breach of our protocol. You compromised the integrity of our operations.”
Director Han adds, “Following the chain of command ensures that all actions are coordinated and that risks are minimized. By going rogue, you jeopardized not just the mission, but also your safety and the safety of others.”
You know respect is vital in your line of work, but you also know you need to stand up for yourself when faced with unjust criticism. Keeping your tone professional yet harsh, you defend your actions. “Forgive me if I appear hostile,” you state, trying to keep your voice even, “but I don’t see the problem at all. If I hadn’t acted, the Crimson Fox would have another artifact within his grasp right now.”
Director Han’s eyes narrow. “It’s not about the result, Agent. It’s about the process. You broke the rules, and that cannot be tolerated.”
“I followed my instincts because time was of the essence. The Crimson Fox is a highly skilled thief. Every second counts when dealing with him. Waiting for orders could have cost us the artifact.”
Director Liu shakes her head. “This isn’t about instincts. It’s about discipline and order. We have protocols for a reason.”
“And you have agents for a reason. What did those protocols achieve last night, exactly?” you retort. “A near loss of a valuable artifact. My actions, though unorthodox, were effective. I stopped him. I gained information. Is that not what we’re here to do?”
Director Kang leans forward, his expression stern. “This is not a debate, Agent. You acted outside your authority, and that’s unacceptable.”
You meet his gaze without flinching. “What’s unacceptable is prioritizing rules over results. We’re here to protect and to prevent crime. I did exactly that. If that means bending the rules to catch a thief, then so be it.” The room falls silent, tension hanging thick in the air. You can see their frustration, but you also see a hint of grudging respect. They may not admit it, but they know you have a point.
Director Han finally speaks, her tone measured. “We understand your perspective, but there will be consequences for your actions. We cannot have agents acting on their own accord.”
You nod, accepting the inevitable. “Understood, Director. But I stand by what I did. And given the chance, I’d do it again.”
Leaving the meeting room, you feel a mix of relief and lingering defiance. Maybe the Crimson Fox was right—this was a rash decision. But it’s definitely not a regrettable one. You acted on instinct, you took a risk, and it paid off. You prevented a theft and gained insight into your elusive adversary. Still, you can’t help but be clouded with frustration over their words. Why were they so defensive about wanting you to act only when they tell you to, and not on your own accord? The whole situation felt stifling, and it gnawed at you. Starting off your day on a bad note was definitely not the way to go; you didn’t want to carry more stress with you.
Deciding to clear your head, you leave the headquarters and head to the library. There are still a few hours left before you have to open it, but you figured you’d find a way to ease yourself there. The familiar scent of books and the quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the place always had a calming effect on you. Once you reach the library and head inside, you place your bag on the desk of your registrar and head through the aisles to see if there were any books you could read to pass the time. The rows of neatly shelved books stand as a comforting reminder of the worlds and stories they hold within.
You settle on a fantasy book titled “Pirate King,” its cover adorned with a design that promises you an escape from reality. Heading back to the registrar, you sit down and begin reading. The words transport you to a different world, a place where your current frustrations seem distant and insignificant.
Eight pages in, your earlier wake-up call catches up to you, and you feel sleepiness creeping back. After all, you weren’t supposed to start your day so early. The “meeting” felt like a colossal waste of time, and the exhaustion tugs at your eyelids. Deciding to close the book, you then place it gently on the desk. You retrieve your phone from your bag and set an alarm for 8 am.
Once it’s done, you lay your head down on the table, resting on your arms. The hard surface of the desk is surprisingly comforting as you let the warmth of your own body lull you into a sense of security.
As sleep begins to consume you, the last thoughts in your mind are of the day’s tasks ahead. But for now, in this small moment of peace, you allow yourself to drift off, letting go of the morning’s stress and the frustration that came with it before the day truly begins.
The alarm beeps two hours later, and you wake up instantly, reaching for the hand mirror in the drawer to check your appearance. Satisfied that you still look presentable, you get up and walk to the door, flipping the “Closed” sign to “Open” before returning to the registrar. You begin your work, and although you feel a bit lighter, the frustration from the morning lingers.
You don’t realize how consumed you are by your thoughts until the door chime signals your first customer. Quickly, you wipe the frustration from your face, replacing it with a warm smile. “Good morning, how can I help you today?”
The patron asks for help finding a specific book, and you guide them to the correct aisle, making small talk along the way. Once they’re settled, you return to your desk and dive back into your tasks, trying to use work as a distraction. Cataloging returns, reshelving books, assisting more patrons—it all helps keep your mind off the morning’s events, but the underlying frustration still simmers.
Hours pass, and it’s now near evening. The library’s peaceful atmosphere helps somewhat, but the lingering tension remains. As you sort through a stack of books to be shelved, your thoughts drift to Wooyoung. His energy and playful demeanor always have a way of lifting your spirits, so you wonder why he hasn’t shown up today, of all days when you could really use one of his random questions or amusing anecdotes.
You pause, staring at the book in your hand without really seeing it. Wooyoung’s absence feels more pronounced today, amplifying the frustration you've been trying to suppress. His visits, though often unexpected, have become a part of your routine that you look forward to. His knack for starting light-hearted conversations could have been the perfect remedy for your current mood. With a sigh, you shelve the book and move on to the next one, trying to shake off the melancholy thoughts.
Before closing the library during the after-hours of your job and heading out, you decide to bring the fantasy book you started earlier, Pirate King, with you. Though you only managed to read eight pages before sleep consumed you entirely, the story had already hooked you, and you were eager to continue. A good book was precisely what you needed to escape the stress that had been weighing you down.
Instead of heading straight home, you decide to visit a nearby river—a place you’ve been meaning to explore for a while. Work and missions always seemed to get in the way, but today, with no missions assigned (likely part of the directors’ “punishment” for your unauthorized actions last night), you finally have the opportunity.
Upon reaching the river, you find a serene spot with a bench overlooking the water. The gentle sounds of the flowing river and the rustling leaves create a calming atmosphere. You sit down, placing your bag beside you, and pull out Pirate King. As you open the book and start reading, the world around you fades, and you let yourself get lost in the story of Captain Arahn and his crew’s daring quest for the “Endless Aurora.” The stress from earlier begins to melt away with each turn of the page. The vivid descriptions of pirate adventures and the protagonist’s daring exploits transport you to another world, providing a much-needed escape from the frustrations of reality. The tranquility of the river combined with the captivating narrative of Pirate King helps you unwind. You savor the moments of peace, knowing that they are rare in your line of work.
While you’re getting engrossed in a specific part of the story where the Captain Ahran’s crew, the Black Phoenix, encounters the mysterious Sea Witch who holds a key to the “Endless Aurora,” a familiar voice speaks up from behind the bench.
“Pirate King, huh?”
Before you even turn your head, a small smile forms on your face—you know exactly who it is.
“Hey, Wooyoung,” you greet him, moving your bag to the other side of the bench and patting the now free spot beside you. He’s more than happy to oblige, his face lighting up with that characteristic, endearing enthusiasm. You close the book and place it on your lap, turning your attention to him. However, you immediately notice a bandage stapled over the side of his mouth. He catches your expression and waves you off nonchalantly before you could bring it up.
“Oh, this? Just a little accident while helping my uncle with some construction work. Nothing to worry about, really,” he says with a grin that suggests he’s more proud of the minor injury than concerned.
You don’t pry further. “So, you know Pirate King?” you ask instead, and he enthusiastically nods his head.
“Yeah! That one’s actually one of the very first books I read when I first started visiting the library, back when you weren’t working there yet,” he explains, a fond expression on his face.
You pick up the book from your lap, examining it—it does look pretty worn. “It’s one of the old books, huh? Makes sense.” You hum, placing it back on your lap. “Do you have a thing for fantasy books?” you tilt your head, waiting for his answer. He smiles and nods, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He then reveals that he actually read that book here when he was just a kid and that since then, he’s always imagined what his life would be like if he were a fantasy character.
“What did you want to be back then?” you push further, genuinely curious.
He leans back, a dreamy look in his eyes. “Just like the characters, I’ve always wanted to be a pirate, going on adventures, sailing the seas, hunting for treasures,” he shares with enthusiasm.
You chuckle, imagining a young Wooyoung running around, pretending to be a pirate. “What was your ‘fantasy name’?” you ask.
His eyes gleam with excitement as he responds. “Captain Stormbreaker! I imagined myself as this legendary pirate, feared and respected across all the seas. My ship was called the Tempest’s Fury, and my crew was the best there ever was. We’d find hidden treasures, outsmart rival pirates, and face mythical sea monsters.”
You laugh, enjoying the vivid picture he paints. “Captain Stormbreaker, huh? That sounds pretty impressive. Did you have a backstory for him?”
Wooyoung nods eagerly. “Of course! Captain Stormbreaker was an orphan raised by a secret society of sailors who taught him everything about the sea and combat. He swore to protect the oceans from those who sought to exploit them and to uncover the secrets of the world’s greatest treasures. Every adventure was a step closer to finding his true destiny.”
You smile, feeling your stress melt away as you listen to his animated storytelling. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“Absolutely,” he says with a wide grin. “It was my favorite daydream growing up. And who knows, maybe one day I’ll find a way to make it a reality, even if it’s just in spirit.”
You nod, touched by his infectious enthusiasm. “Well, Captain Stormbreaker, I’m honored to be in your presence. Maybe one day, you’ll have to take me on one of your adventures.”
He laughs, a twinkle in his eye. “Deal. And who knows, maybe you have a hidden pirate persona too?”
You chuckle, the idea intriguing you. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
He pursues the idea, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Now that we’re at it, have you ever thought of having a pirate persona or a fantasy persona in general?”
You smile, touched by his boundless imagination. He seems like such a free spirit, and there’s a sense of freedom within him that you can’t help but admire. “I’ve never really thought of it,” you say with a shrug, playing along. “But now that you mention it, I’m quite curious—what persona would you construct for me, if given the chance?”
Wooyoung’s face lights up with excitement. “Oh, that’s easy! You’d be the enigmatic ‘Captain Shadowstrike’—a master strategist and fearless leader, known for your sharp wit and unparalleled combat skills. Your ship would be called the Nightfall, a sleek, fast vessel designed for stealth and precision.”
You laugh softly, the name and description fitting surprisingly well. “Captain Shadowstrike, huh? I like the sound of that. Tell me more.” You tuck a couple strands of your hair behind your ear when the evening breeze hits your face, waiting for his answer.
He puts his index finger on his chin, fully immersed in his tale. “Captain Shadowstrike was once part of a royal navy but turned rogue after discovering corruption within the ranks. You’d use your insider knowledge to stay one step ahead of both the law and rival pirates. Your crew would be a mix of skilled outcasts, each with their own unique talents, fiercely loyal to you.”
“And what would be my mission?” You lean forward, placing your palm flat down on the cold surface of the wooden bench, genuinely curious now.
“To uncover the lost city of Seloria,” Wooyoung says without hesitation. “Legend has it that Seloria holds treasures beyond imagination and secrets that could change the world. But it’s also guarded by ancient traps and mythical creatures, making it the ultimate challenge for any pirate.”
You raise an eyebrow, impressed by the depth of his story. “Sounds like quite an adventure. And what about you? Would Captain Stormbreaker and Captain Shadowstrike be allies or rivals?”
He grins, the playful glint in his eyes returning. “Definitely allies. We’d join forces to take on the biggest challenges and split the treasures. Imagine the legends that would be told about our exploits!”
You nod, feeling a sense of a new depth within your connection with Wooyoung brimming. “Well, Captain Stormbreaker, it looks like we make a formidable team.”
Wooyoung’s smile is infectious. “Two pirates teaming up to cause havoc catered to their own liking, call that Bonnie and Clyde in a different universe.”
He then shifts the conversation once both your laughters die down, a question that’s been on his mind for the past few minutes now surfacing. “What brings you here, anyway?” he asks with genuine curiosity.
You let out a soft sigh, looking towards the river, where the moon’s dim light shone in its reflection. “Today didn’t exactly go well.” You shrug, pursing your lips.
A look of concern flashes in his eyes, but he tries to lighten the mood. “Probably a good idea I didn’t stop by the library today then. I might’ve made your day worse with my endless nagging.”
Although you know he’s joking, you shake your head and look him in the eyes. “I was waiting for you to show up, actually.”
He blinks, momentarily taken aback. “Really? You were?”
You nod, feeling a bit vulnerable but honest. “Yeah. Your energy is contagious. It would have been nice to have a distraction from everything that happened.”
Wooyoung’s expression softens, and he leans back on the bench, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I’m glad I ran into you here, then. If I can help distract you from a bad day, that’s the least I can do.”
You smile at his sincerity. “You always seem to lift my spirits, Wooyoung—and oftentimes, you’re blissfully unaware of it. It’s one of your many talents.”
He grins, his usual playful demeanor returning. “Well, if cheering you up means talking about pirate adventures and imagining ourselves as legendary captains, then I’m more than happy to oblige.” You both laugh, and the conversation flows naturally, easing the tension of the day.
You look at the book in your lap again and ask, “Do you have any favorite character from Pirate King in particular?”
Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking to the book and then back to you. “I do, but I might drop a few spoiler bombs here and there. Are you sure you want to hear about it?” He asks, looking a bit sheepish.
You wave him off with a smile. “I don’t mind at all. I’d be more than happy to listen to you. Go ahead.”
Relieved, Wooyoung’s eyes light up, and he shifts excitedly on the bench. “Well, my favorite is definitely Captain Arahn! He’s the best character in the entire series for me,” he says, enthusiasm bubbling over. “I mean, first off, he’s the youngest captain to ever sail the seas, and he’s got this whole rebellious yet noble vibe going on. He’s incredibly smart and always a step ahead of his enemies, which is just so cool. There was this part where he outsmarted the entire Navy fleet with just a handful of his crew, and it was so epic!”
He continues, gesturing animatedly. “And his backstory! It’s so tragic yet inspiring. Losing his family at a young age and then rising from nothing to become the most feared and respected pirate captain—it’s just so compelling. Plus, his relationship with his crew is amazing. He’s not just their leader; he’s their friend and confidant. The way he treats everyone with respect and values their opinions, it’s no wonder they’re so loyal to him.”
You can’t help but smile as Wooyoung geeks out, his passion infectious. “And don’t get me started on his combat skills! He’s not just a brilliant strategist but also a formidable fighter. He had a duel with an Admiral named Valen, and it was one of the most intense scenes ever. His dual-wielding technique is so unique, and the way he incorporates acrobatics into his fighting style is just... wow.”
Wooyoung pauses for breath, his eyes sparkling. “And then there’s his softer side, the way he cares for the less fortunate and always fights for justice, even though he’s labeled an outlaw. That one scene where he saves the village from the corrupt governor really shows his true character. He’s the perfect mix of tough and tender, which makes him so relatable and admirable.”
You find yourself in a trance, a fond expression on your face as you listen to him with full attention. Wooyoung’s words flow endlessly, painting a vivid picture of Captain Arahn and why he resonates so deeply with him. His excitement is palpable, and you can see how much this character means to him.
“And the symbolism!” Wooyoung continues, his voice lowering a bit as he leans closer. “Captain Arahn’s ship, The Phoenix, represents rebirth and resilience. Every time it seems like they’re done for, they rise from the ashes stronger than before. It’s such a powerful metaphor for his life and his journey. And those moments of introspection he has while staring out at the sea, questioning his decisions and pondering his future—those are some of my favorite parts. They add so much depth to his character.”
He finally stops, a little out of breath, and looks at you with a wide smile. “Sorry, I get carried away when I talk about Pirate King. It’s just such an incredible story.”
You shake your head, your smile warm and genuine. “No, no. There’s nothing to apologize for. I love hearing you talk about it. Your passion is infectious, and it’s clear how much Captain Arahn means to you. It’s nice.”
Wooyoung beams, looking pleased and slightly bashful. “Thanks. I’m glad I could share it with you.”
As the night progresses, you find yourself lost in conversation with Wooyoung, his infectious energy gradually lifting the weight off your shoulders. It isn’t until he pauses, a wide smile on his face as you laugh, that you realize how much better you feel.
“Is there something on my face?” you ask, reaching for the small mirror in your bag. Before you can open it, Wooyoung gently grabs your wrist, shaking his head.
“No, it’s just... happiness looks good on you.”
His words catch you off guard, sending a warm, unexpected surge through your veins somewhere deep in the confines of your soul. Speechless, you don’t trust your words enough to speak for you, so respond with a genuine smile, which he mirrors with delight. Maybe Pirate King will become your go-to read from now on—not just for the tough days, but for the good ones, too.
You find yourself seated in the austere meeting room once again, facing the stern visages of the director board. They’ve called an urgent meeting to discuss the latest developments regarding the Crimson Fox. Apparently, they’ve managed to gather some critical intel: his next target is known. The artifact in question is an ancient, seemingly mundane item—an old, weathered compass without any apparent monetary value. Yet, the directors treat it as if it's the most crucial object in existence.
As Director Kang finishes outlining the basic details, confusion stirs within you. Two questions loom large: Why would the Crimson Fox target such an unremarkable artifact? And why does the director board seem far more driven to stop him this time compared to other, more valuable heists?
Unable to contain your curiosity, you speak up. “Do we have any information on why the Crimson Fox has chosen this particular artifact as his next target?”
Director Han meets your gaze but offers no satisfying answer. “We don’t have any specific details on his motives,” she says curtly, avoiding your eyes.
You frown, sensing there’s more to this than they’re letting on. “And why is this artifact so important to us? It seems to be treated with an unusual amount of importance compared to previous discussions about highly valuable items.”
The room falls silent, tension palpable in the air. Director Kang clears his throat and begins his explanation. “This compass,” he starts, holding up an image of the artifact on the holographic display, “is no ordinary navigational tool. It dates back to the early 15th century and is believed to have belonged to Admiral Zheng He, the famous Chinese explorer. While its monetary value might seem insignificant compared to other artifacts we’ve dealt with, its historical and strategic importance cannot be overstated.”
He taps the display, and a series of documents and old maps appear. “The compass was reputedly used during Zheng He’s voyages across the Indian Ocean and as far as the east coast of Africa. More importantly, it's said to be imbued with magnetic properties unlike any modern compass. These unique properties have puzzled historians and scientists alike, as they hint at a potentially advanced understanding of geomagnetism long before it was formally studied.”
He continues, “The compass itself doesn’t just represent historical significance; it’s believed to contain a map—hidden within its construction—that leads to one of Zheng He’s lost treasure fleets. If this map is real and falls into the wrong hands, it could lead to untold wealth and power. The geopolitical ramifications alone are enormous, and we're running out of time.”
Director Liu interjects, her tone serious. “We have reason to believe that the Crimson Fox has discovered this secret. His previous heists—seemingly random—were actually part of a pattern leading him to this very compass. He’s pieced together enough of the puzzle to make this his next target.”
Their explanations raise more questions than it answers, but you decide to press on. “But why the urgency? You’re saying time is running out—what exactly do you mean by that?”
Director Kang’s gaze sharpens, his tone growing more insistent. “The Crimson Fox is planning to strike tonight. We’ve intercepted enough chatter to know his timeline. This is why we need to act quickly. The organization will provide you with backup for this mission.”
You blink, taken aback. “Backup? Why now, of all times? Why do you think I need assistance?”
Director Han interjects with a vague, non-committal answer. “It’s to ensure your safety. The stakes are higher with this artifact, and we can’t afford to let him succeed.”
Their responses only deepen your skepticism, but you sense that pushing for more information would be futile. Leaning back in your seat, you decide to give them the benefit of the doubt, at least for now. “Alright, what’s the plan for tonight?”
Director Kang leans forward, his fingers steepled. “We have a detailed strategy in place. You will be the lead operative, with Agents Kim and Park as your immediate support. The warehouse where the compass is held has been fortified, and we’ve coordinated with local law enforcement to set up a perimeter. Your task is to intercept and apprehend the Crimson Fox before he can escape with the artifact.”
Director Liu adds, “We’ve also placed discreet surveillance around the area. Our tech team will be monitoring the feeds and providing real-time updates. We need you to stay sharp and rely on your instincts. This is a critical mission, and failure is not an option.”
You nod, absorbing the information. The pressure is palpable, but you steel yourself for the task ahead. “Understood. I’ll be ready.”
The directors give their final instructions, and you leave the meeting room, your mind still clouded with frustration and doubt. Why is this compass so important? What aren’t they telling you? As you head out of the headquarters, you decide to put these questions aside for now. There’s a mission to prepare for, and you need to be at your best.
Looking at how important this compass seems to be for the director board, you spend the next few hours in the headquarters’ high-tech training room, ensuring you’ll be at your best later. The room is equipped with state-of-the-art equipment designed to push agents to their limits.
You start with a series of warm-up exercises, focusing on flexibility and agility. Dynamic stretches ease the tension in your muscles, followed by a few rounds of shadowboxing to get your blood pumping. Moving on to the obstacle course, you navigate through various challenges designed to test your speed, coordination, and problem-solving skills. Each segment mimics potential real-world scenarios: crawling under laser grids, scaling walls, and maneuvering through a maze filled with holographic enemies that simulate combat situations. Next, you head to the combat simulator. The room transforms, projecting a virtual environment around you. You engage in hand-to-hand combat with AI opponents, each programmed with different fighting styles. Sweat drips down your forehead as you dodge, block, and strike, honing your reflexes and precision.
After the intense session, you shift to the firing range. You pick up a variety of weapons, from standard issue pistols to more specialized firearms, practicing your aim and control. Each target is a representation of a potential threat, some stationary and others moving unpredictably. You focus on accuracy and speed, each shot echoing through the room. Finally, you conclude with a cooldown routine. Gentle stretches and controlled breathing help your body recover, ensuring you’re in peak condition for the mission ahead. Satisfied with your preparations, you decide to call it a day and head to the headquarters’ lounge to take a breather.
In the lounge, you throw your head back, hanging it off the couch while closing your eyes. Just then, you feel the spot beside you sink down, and your eyes shoot open, only to see a fellow agent of yours sitting down while drinking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper.
“Yeosang,” you straighten up in your seat, greeting him. The said man looks up from his newspaper, putting the coffee down on the lounge table as he turns to you, greeting you with a small smile on his face.
Kang Yeosang was the only fellow agent of yours you were close with—your bond forming one night two years ago when you had to be his personal assistant when he was new to ins and outs of being a secret agent. Long ago, you kept a promise to yourself not to let yourself warm up to any agents in this organization because you never know when you’ll lose them, and you don’t have it in you to suffer with grief countless times. But as soon as you felt an energy of warmth and naivety radiating from Yeosang as if he was someone who would not find a problem with letting people walk all over him as long as it benefited them—somehow, you made it a personal mission to keep him under your watch and teach him to be as strong as possible. You know how cruel this workspace and this world in general is, and you don’t want him to be harmed by that.
“Heard they were sending backup with you for your mission later,” he muses, and you immediately groan softly in response.
“Don’t remind me. It would’ve been better if you were one of the agents they assigned to accompany me—or if they hadn’t decided to send backup my way at all,” you slump your shoulders. It’s not that you don’t want to work with others, but you have a tendency of being hard-headed and reckless when you’re on the scene, and you know you’ll hardly be able to protect anyone that comes along with you for the danger you attract. It’s not that you hate your fellow agents—you just don’t want to drag them into the different level of danger you’re standing in compared to them.
“I still don’t get why they refuse to assign us to missions together.” He sighs, leaning back on the couch. “You tell me,” you deadpan, shrugging.
“How’s the cat-and-mouse game with the Crimson Fox going, anyway?” he turns to you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
You then tell him all about it. Ever since you were able to train him to his finest shape, the director board transferred him to a different department, so you haven’t been able to hang out as much. Agents were also strictly forbidden to spend time together outside of their jobs—which you think is a very weird rule—so you always make sure to make the most out of moments like this with Yeosang.
“It’s been... complicated,” you admit. “The Crimson Fox is slippery, always a step ahead. But it appears we finally have a solid lead on his next target,” you cut your words off momentarily to lean closer, whispering in his ear, “the board’s acting a little shady about it, though.”
Yeosang listens intently as you describe the old compass and the board’s intense focus on it. “That does sound strange,” he agrees. “Why would they be so concerned about a seemingly worthless artifact?”
You shake your head. “That’s the mystery. There’s something about this compass they’re not telling me. It feels like there’s a bigger picture I’m missing.”
Yeosang frowns, deep in thought. “Be careful out there. If they’re sending backup, it means they’re expecting something significant.”
You nod, appreciating his concern. “I will. Thanks, Yeosang. I’ll try to keep you updated, even if it’s just through official channels.”
Just then, the speakers installed throughout the headquarters ring, and Director Han’s voice booms through them. “Agent Sylvil. Your presence is needed in the meeting room immediately.”
Sighing, you turn to Yeosang, lips pursed. “Well, I guess it’s time.”
He pats your shoulder, giving you an encouraging smile. “Take care out there. You’ve got this.” You ruffle his hair in response, standing up and heading straight to the meeting room. As you enter, you find many of your fellow agents already gathered, armed and ready. A dozen of them, each one looking determined and focused.
Director Han steps forward and begins to speak, her voice firm and authoritative. “Agents, tonight’s mission is critical. The Crimson Fox’s target is the ancient compass, and we cannot allow him to acquire it. Here’s the plan: We will deploy in two teams. Team Utopia, led by Agent Kim, will secure the perimeter and establish surveillance points. Team Aurora, led by Agent Park, will be the primary assault force and will engage the Crimson Fox directly if necessary.”
She pauses, looking around the room to ensure everyone is following. “Our mode of transport for this mission will be motorcycles. This will allow for quick maneuverability and a fast response time. Each team will have a designated route to the target location. Stay in constant communication and be prepared for anything.”
Director Han then turns to you. “Agent, your role is crucial. You’ll be providing overwatch and will have the autonomy to move as you see fit. We trust your judgment to intervene at the right moment. Remember, the goal is to secure the artifact and, if possible, capture the Crimson Fox. Any questions?”
No one speaks up, the air thick with anticipation. “Alright then. Gear up and move out.”
You and the other agents head to the garage, where sleek black motorcycles await. You mount your bike, choosing to stay behind the others to keep an eye on them. The engines roar to life, and soon, you’re speeding through the city streets, the wind whipping past you. The ride is swift, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you approach the target location. Upon arrival, you quietly separate yourself from the other agents without them noticing, slipping into the shadows to position yourself strategically.
The moonlight casts eerie shadows over the old, abandoned warehouse where the ancient compass is hidden. The 12 agents form a perimeter, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of the Crimson Fox. The night is still, the only sound being the distant hum of the city.
Suddenly, a figure drops from the rafters with feline grace, landing silently in the middle of the room. The Crimson Fox straightens up, his lips curling into a mocking smile. His eyes glint with amusement as he takes in the sight of the armed agents surrounding him.
“Oh, wow,” he drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “An entire squad just for little old me? I’m flattered.” He pauses, his gaze flicking around the room. “But where’s my favorite nemesis? Why didn’t they send her alone instead? Surely that would be more worth my time.”
The agents glance around, noticing your absence. Their in-ear monitors beep, and your voice comes through. “I’ll be in the shadows to strike when he least expects it. Keep your guard up at all times—this is no ordinary thief you’re facing.”
The Crimson Fox notices the change in their demeanor, even without seeing the monitors. A wicked smile spreads across his face. “So she’s here, huh? Good. This should be interesting.”
The agents tighten their grips on their weapons, readying themselves for the confrontation. You remain hidden, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The tension in the air is palpable, the night shrouded in a veil of impending conflict. Agent Kim, leading Team Utopia, steps forward. “Give up. There’s no way out of this.”
The Crimson Fox laughs, a low, menacing sound. “Oh, I think I’ll manage.” With a sudden burst of speed, he darts forward, his movements a blur. He disarms Agent Park with a swift kick, sending his weapon skittering across the floor.
“Aurora, tighten formation.” you command, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. “Utopia, flank him from the sides.” The agents move quickly, trying to encircle the Crimson Fox, but he is relentless. He spins, his fists and feet striking out with deadly precision. One agent goes down, then another, each one taken out with frightening efficiency.
“Is this the best you can do?” he taunts, delivering a spinning back kick to Agent Park’s midsection, sending him sprawling. “Don’t disappoint me now.”
“Aurora, regroup near the crates,” you order, directing them to a safer position. "Utopia, he’s heading your way.”
“Got it!” Agent Kim responds, signaling his team to reposition. They move swiftly, trying to outmaneuver the Crimson Fox. The fight is chaotic, the agents struggling to keep up with the Crimson Fox’s lightning-fast attacks. He seems to be everywhere at once, his movements a blur of dark red and black. He taunts them mercilessly, his voice a constant stream of mocking comments.
“Come on, you can do better than this!” he jeers, dodging a punch and retaliating with a swift elbow to the jaw. “Where’s your spirit, your drive? Did you leave it at home?”
You watch the scene unfold, your mind racing. “Agent Kim, he’s heading for the northwest corner. Cut him off.”
“On it!” Agent Kim replies, his team sprinting to intercept the Crimson Fox. The agents close in, their determination unwavering despite the odds. The Crimson Fox, however, remains one step ahead. He leaps onto a stack of crates, using the high ground to his advantage. From his elevated position, he delivers a powerful kick, sending another agent flying.
“Are you watching this?” he calls out to you, his voice dripping with derision. “Is this really the best your precious organization can offer?”
Your hands tighten into fists. “Utopia, distract him from the front. Aurora, prepare to flank.” The agents execute your orders, Aurora engaging the Crimson Fox head-on while Utopia moves to surround him. The fight intensifies, punches and kicks flying in every direction. The Crimson Fox parries each attack with ease, his movements fluid and precise.
“Nice try,” he sneers, catching Agent Park's arm and twisting it painfully. “But you’ll need more than that to catch me.”
Agent Park lunges forward, attempting to tackle the Crimson Fox, but he sidesteps smoothly, delivering a knee to his stomach. “Too slow!” he laughs, throwing him aside.
“Utopia, hit him from the left,” you instruct, your eyes never leaving the Crimson Fox. The agents comply, but the Crimson Fox anticipates their move. He ducks low, sweeping his leg out and knocking two agents off their feet. “Predictable,” he mutters, his gaze flicking upwards. “Come on, Agent. I know you’re out there.”
You grit your teeth, knowing you have to stay hidden for now. “Aurora, push him towards the back wall. Utopia, be ready to cut him off.” The agents press forward, forcing the Crimson Fox to retreat towards the back of the warehouse. He glances around, a calculating look in his eyes. “Interesting strategy,” he muses, blocking a punch from Agent Kim and countering with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “But it won’t work.”
Agent Kim regains his footing, charging at the Crimson Fox. “We’ve got you now!”
The Crimson Fox smirks, catching his arm and flipping him over his shoulder with effortless strength. “Do you, though?” He looks directly into the shadows where you're hidden. "I know you're waiting for the right moment, Agent. But how many more of your friends will fall before you act?"
Your heart races, knowing he’s trying to provoke you. “Hold your positions,” you instruct the agents. “He’s trying to bait us.”
Agent Kim narrows his eyes, his breathing heavy but determined. “We won’t let you win, Crimson Fox.”
The Crimson Fox chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, I already have.” He moves with blinding speed, taking down another agent with a swift combination of strikes. “And you know it.”
The fight continues, the agents growing weary but refusing to back down. The Crimson Fox remains relentless, his taunts never ceasing. “You should have stayed home,” he sneers, delivering a powerful kick to Agent Park’s chest. “This was a losing battle from the start.”
You watch, frustration boiling within you. “Aurora, fall back to the east side. Utopia, cover them.” The agents regroup, their resolve unwavering despite their injuries. They reposition, trying to find an opening, but the Crimson Fox’s defenses are impenetrable.
“Why do you fight for them?” he questions, his voice a mocking whisper as he catches Agent Kim's fist and twists it painfully. “Do you really believe in their cause?”
Agent Kim grits his teeth, refusing to yield. “We fight for justice.”
The Crimson Fox laughs, a cold, hollow sound. “Justice? How quaint.” He releases Kim with a shove, turning his attention to the others. “You are all pawns in a game you have yet to know of.”
You take a deep breath, your eyes locked onto the Crimson Fox, who is circling the agents like a predator. His confidence is palpable, a smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the scene. “What’s the plan, Agent? Are you going to save them at the last minute?”
You remain silent, watching from your vantage point on the ceiling, waiting for the perfect opportunity. The Crimson Fox’s eyes narrow, sensing the tension in the air. “Well? I'm waiting.”
The agents spring into action at your signal, converging on the Crimson Fox from all sides. He meets them head-on, his movements a blur of calculated strikes and swift dodges. Agent Park’s lunges first, aiming for a disabling blow, but the Crimson Fox sidesteps effortlessly, delivering a crushing elbow to his ribs. He crumples to the ground, gasping for breath.
“These are the agents that are supposed to take me down?” the Crimson Fox taunts, his voice dripping with disdain.
Agent Kim tries to catch him off guard with a low sweep, but the Crimson Fox leaps over her leg, landing a brutal kick to his shoulder that sends him sprawling. He doesn’t give him a chance to recover, following up with a series of rapid punches that leave him dazed and bleeding.
“Stay together,” you command through the comms, your voice tense. “Don’t let him isolate you.”
The agents regroup, their faces set with determination despite their injuries. They attempt a coordinated attack, moving in unison to trap the Crimson Fox, but he’s always one step ahead. He disarms Agent Park with a quick twist of his wrist, then slams him into a nearby wall with a force that leaves cracks in the concrete.
“Pathetic,” the Crimson Fox sneers, glancing around at the fallen agents. “You should have brought more.”
Agent Park, struggling to his feet, charges again. The Crimson Fox catches his fist mid-swing, twisting his arm behind his back and slamming him to the ground. He doesn’t get up this time.
“When’s your leader planning on coming out?" the Crimson Fox calls out, his voice echoing through the warehouse. “Or does she want to just stay in the shadows and let you all crumble?”
You watch helplessly as Agent after Agent falls. The Crimson Fox’s taunts grow more vicious, each victory fueling his arrogance. “This is almost too easy. Do you really think you can stop me?”
Agent Kim manages to land a glancing blow to his jaw, but the Crimson Fox’s retaliatory strike is swift and punishing. He grabs him by the collar and throws him into a stack of crates, the impact knocking him unconscious.
“Aurora, pull back—” you instruct, but it's too late. The Crimson Fox is relentless, cutting down the agents with brutal efficiency. His movements are a deadly dance, each strike perfectly timed and devastatingly effective.
“Come on, Agent,” he mocks, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “Are you just going to let them die?”
Agent Park makes one last desperate attempt, but the Crimson Fox sidesteps, delivering a bone-crushing kick to his knee. He collapses with a cry of pain, clutching his leg.
The warehouse falls silent except for the labored breathing of the wounded. The Crimson Fox stands amid the fallen agents, his chest heaving from exertion but his confidence unshaken. “Is that it?”
You feel a surge of anger and frustration. The agents lie scattered around the warehouse, unconscious and severely wounded. The Crimson Fox’s eyes scan the room, searching for you.
“I know you’re here,” he says, a wicked smile spreading across his face. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
You wait for the perfect moment, then launch yourself from your hiding spot on the ceiling, tackling him from behind. Your kick sends him nearly falling to the ground, but he manages to steady himself just in time.
“Finally decided to join the party, did you?” he taunts, turning to face you, a gleam of surprise and annoyance in his eyes.
You don’t respond, keeping your focus solely on him. The weight of the fallen agents presses on you, fueling your determination. “This ends now,” you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
The Crimson Fox laughs, a cold, mocking sound. “I don’t think so.”
The fight begins in earnest. You lunge at the Crimson Fox, your movements precise and calculated. You strike first, landing a solid hit on his jaw. He stumbles back, surprised by your speed and strength.
“Can’t you do any better?” you taunt, pressing your advantage.
The Crimson Fox regains his footing, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You think you’re special because you knocked me back a bit?” he sneers. “Your friends didn’t fare so well.”
Ignoring his taunts, you unleash a flurry of punches and kicks, each one driving him further back. For a moment, you feel a surge of confidence—you have the upper hand. But as the fight drags on, his words start to seep into your mind.
“Look at them,” he says, gesturing to the fallen agents. “All of them thought they could beat me. They thought you would save them.”
You grit your teeth, trying to block out his words, but the pained expressions on the faces of your fellow agents remain in your line of sight. Each glance at their unconscious bodies weakens your resolve.
“You’re so dedicated to your job,” the Crimson Fox continues, dodging your next strike with ease. “So dedicated you sacrificed their lives to get it done. You’re making it more obvious that you want to catch me not because you have to, but because that’s the only thing that’ll reassure you that you’re still good enough.”
“Shut up,” you growl, trying to regain your focus. But the words sting, hitting closer to home than you'd like to admit.
“You let them fight me without your aid, thinking they could handle it. Look at where they are now—broken and bleeding because of your arrogance.”
His relentless taunting chips away at your concentration. The memory of your fallen comrades’ faith in you and your failure to protect them plays over and over in your mind. Your attacks become sloppy, your defense weakens. He starts to gain the upper hand, his strikes landing with increasing accuracy and power.
“You think you can handle this on your own? Pathetic. They were counting on you, and you failed them.”
“Open that mouth of yours one more and I’ll make sure you’ll have no voice to speak for you by the end of the night,” you say through ragged breaths, but the doubt in your voice is unmistakable. He doesn’t listen to you, choosing to continue driving you on edge. “You were their last hope, and you let them down.” He laughs, his voice a poisonous whisper.
“You let them die.”
The last shred of your focus crumbles. You swing at him, desperate to silence his mocking voice, but he dodges easily, moving behind you in a flash. You feel a sharp, sudden pain at the back of your neck as he hits a nerve. Your vision blurs, darkness creeping in at the edges. “No,” you whisper, but it’s too late. The world goes black, and you collapse to the ground, unconscious.
When you wake up a short while later, the first thing you notice is the cold, hard chair pressing against your back. The tight ropes wrapped around your torso dig into your skin, restricting your movement. You struggle, the chair creaking beneath you, but the bindings hold firm. Your mouth is gagged with a bandana, muffling any sound you try to make. Frustration and anger bubble up inside you as you recall the events leading to your capture. Your mind races, replaying the moment the Crimson Fox struck you down. You should have been better. You should have saved your team.
Out of the shadows, the Crimson Fox emerges, his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. He walks toward you with a casual, almost leisurely pace, his eyes never leaving yours. Despite the mask still covering the rest of your face, he can see the fury and humiliation in your eyes.
“Look who’s awake,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery. “Comfortable?”
You try to stay calm and composed, but the sight of him makes your blood boil. You strain against the ropes, the chair creaking louder, but it’s no use. The gag stifles your attempts to speak, turning your words into frustrated, muffled sounds, making the Crimson Fox laugh. He crouches in front of you, close enough that you can see the amusement in his eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that look.” He rolls his eyes. “You brought this upon yourself.”
You glare at him, your eyes burning with defiance. He scoffs, clearly entertained by your futile struggle. “You thought you could catch me, didn’t you?” he says, shaking his head. “Such arrogance. Did you really think you were good enough for that?” He stands up, pacing around you. “You know, I was expecting more from you. I’ve heard so much about your skills and your dedication. But now that I’m seeing you like this... I can’t say I’m not disappointed.”
You try to shout something, but the gag turns your words into unintelligible noise. The Crimson Fox laughs, clearly enjoying your helplessness. “Hmm? What’s that? Trying to say something?” He leans in closer, his voice a whisper. “You look so vulnerable right now. So weak. It's almost... endearing.”
He steps back, tilting his head as he looks at you. “Tell me something,” he says, his tone more thoughtful now. “Have you ever doubted your cause? Ever wondered if the side you’re fighting for is truly the right one?”
You frown, trying to understand his angle. He chuckles softly. “Ah, I see it in your eyes. That flicker of doubt. You’ve always been so dedicated to your job, so sure of your purpose. But have you ever stopped to question it?”
He starts speaking in riddles, his words twisting and turning. “Not everything is as it seems. Sometimes, the lines between right and wrong blur. Heroes and villains, they’re often two sides of the same coin. Haven’t you ever considered that?”
Your eyes narrow, and he smirks. “You think you’re fighting for justice, for the greater good. But what if the very people you work for are hiding the truth from you? What if you’re just a piece of a bigger puzzle?”
He crouches down again, closer this time. “You see, they’re not as noble as you think. They have secrets, dark ones. And you’re blindly following their orders, thinking you’re making a difference. But are you?”
His words worm their way into your mind, sowing seeds of doubt. “You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that. But dedication without question, without understanding, is just another form of blindness.”
“Think about it. Reflect on your cause,” he murmurs, his voice a blend of mockery and genuine challenge. He leans forward, hooking a finger under the bandana wrapped around your mouth, and pulls it down. “Because sometimes, the world is not always as it seems.”
As the gag falls away, he’s back to taunting you. “So, Agent, feeling a bit more talkative now?” You meet his gaze with a fiery glare, blood from a split lip pooling in your mouth. Without breaking eye contact, you spit the blood onto his face. He’s taken aback for a moment, wiping it off with a disgusted sneer. But then he scoffs, a dark laugh bubbling up from his chest.
“Feisty, aren’t we?” he says, clearly amused. “I admire your spirit. It’s a shame it’s so misdirected.”
“You think tying me up proves anything?” you retort, eyes burning with anger. “It just shows how terrified you are of facing me head-on.”
He chuckles, clearly enjoying the banter. “Terrified? No, no. I’m just smart. Smarter than your entire organization, it seems.”
“You hide behind tricks and deception,” you snap. “Real strength doesn’t need such cowardice.”
He wipes the remaining blood from his face, looking at you with a mix of admiration and disdain. “Real strength? Like the strength your agents showed? Oh, wait, they’re all unconscious.”
You grit your teeth, the sight of your fallen comrades still fresh in your mind. “You won’t get away with this. You think this is over?” you challenge, keeping your voice firm despite your resolve crumbling. “This is just the beginning. I will hunt you down, no matter where you hide.”
He smirks, clearly entertained by your defiance. “Big words for someone in your position. Now that you can use that mouth of yours, tell me, why are you so dedicated to catching me? What is it you’re really fighting for? You’ve always claimed you’re fighting for… justice,” he mocks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And yet, your ‘justice’ left your comrades bleeding and broken.”
“They knew the risks,” you reply, refusing to let him see any doubt. “We all did. And we’re willing to pay the price to stop you.”
"Such dedication," he muses, almost to himself. “Haven’t you ever wondered if you’re fighting for the right side?”
You narrow your eyes, refusing to let his words shake you. “Save your philosophical musings for someone who cares. I know what’s right, and it’s not you.”
“We’ll see,” he says, standing up straight and looking down at you. “We’ll see how long that conviction lasts.”
He leans in closer, his voice a low whisper. “Remember, Agent, the truth is often hidden in plain sight. Keep your eyes open.”
He leaps out of the window by the roof of the warehouse, a mocking farewell echoing back to you. As soon as he’s out of sight, you struggle against the ropes binding you. Although he left you untouched while you were unconscious, he had been smart enough to ensure you were restricted from using your suit’s full capabilities. Every movement sends sharp aches through your body, the ropes digging into your skin.
Just then, you notice a small red button blinking in the corner of the room. Squinting, you recognize it as a surveillance camera. Had it been shut down the entire time? The fact that it’s only working now, after the Crimson Fox left, could only mean one thing—he saw this coming. He knew what was going to happen and had prepared meticulously. As you continue to struggle, your in-ear monitor beeps, signaling an incoming call. Director Han’s voice comes through, urgent and tense.
“Agent, the Crimson Fox knew of our plan beforehand. He managed to shut down all cameras so we couldn’t supervise you and your team.”
You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling up. “Director Han, I need immediate assistance at the warehouse. My fellow agents are severely wounded.”
“Yes, I can see you from the camera in the separate room you’re in,” Director Han responds. “We’re mobilizing a team now. Hang tight.”
“Prioritize the agents first,” you urge, your voice firm despite the pain. “They need medical attention immediately. I can manage, but they can't.”
The call ends, leaving you in silence once more. Your mind races, guilt gnawing at you. The sight of your comrades lying unconscious, wounded by the Crimson Fox, flashes through your mind. You should have done more. You should have been faster, smarter.
Minutes stretch into what feels like hours, each second marked by the pulse of the red light on the camera. Finally, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching, hurried and heavy. The door bursts open, and medical personnel rush in, followed by a team of agents. Before they even get to ask about your condition, you cut them off, urgency in your voice. “What’s the status of the other agents?”
“They’re injured but stable. The medics are with them now,” one of the agents informs you.
“Good. Hurry up and cut these ropes. They need help more than I do,” you command, your tone brooking no argument. As soon as you’re free from the ropes’ grasp, you try to stand up quickly but a sharp pain shoots through your body, making you hiss. The agents rush to assist, attempting to place your arm over their shoulders for support, but you wave them off. “Go back to the others and prioritize their care,” you insist.
The agents exchange uncertain glances, clearly concerned. You usually avoid using your position as the highest-level secret agent to assert authority, but this is different. “That’s an order,” you state firmly. “Now go.”
Reluctantly, they comply, hurrying back to where the other agents are. Left alone in the room, you take a moment to steady yourself, looking up at the window where the Crimson Fox made his escape. A sigh escapes your lips, and you begin to move, each step sending waves of pain through your body. Your hand clutches your torso, pressing against the spot where the Crimson Fox had landed a particularly hard punch. You cough, a pool of blood splattering the floor, and groan in pain. But you know your fellow agents have gone through worse. They’re more hurt than you are. Summoning every ounce of strength, you follow after the medics who had just left. When you reach the area of the warehouse where the Crimson Fox had easily knocked out your team, the sight that greets you fills you with guilt. Agents are being aided or carried away on stretchers, their injuries severe. Medics work swiftly, tending to wounds and stabilizing the unconscious. You stand there, watching the scene unfold, guilt gnawing at you.
Were you really good enough? Were you really good enough if you let this happen? The question lingers in your mind, the faces of your fallen comrades haunting you. Each pained expression, each wound, is a testament to the stakes of your mission and the high price of failure. You feel a weight settling over you, heavier than any physical injury. The responsibility, the burden of leadership, and the doubt of your own abilities press down on you, almost suffocating. You’re supposed to be their shield, their leader. And you had failed.
Back at headquarters, you’re the only agent still conscious after the fight, the sole presence in the meeting room with the directors. The silence feels deafening as you stare into the void, numbness enveloping you. You attempt to distract yourself from the harrowing events, but it’s futile. Director Liu’s sharp call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts, and you clear your throat, mumbling an apology. She then begins the debriefing. “When you and the other agents were being escorted back to headquarters, the investigative team went to the warehouse to locate the artifact. The location was provided to them by the director board. Surprisingly, it was still there.”
You’re supposed to feel relieved, to have the weight lifted off your shoulders, but instead, a sense of doubt and suspicion creeps in. Why didn’t the Crimson Fox steal it? Was stealing it even his intention in the first place? And how did the director board know the exact location of the artifact inside the warehouse? Their voices of celebration are hollow in your ears. You speak up, your tone devoid of enthusiasm, lacking its usual professionalism.
“Was it worth it?”
The directors turn to you, confusion etched on their faces. “What do you mean?” Director Kang asks.
“Was it worth sacrificing the lives of our agents for an artifact?” Your words hang in the air, heavy with accusation. You’re not only targeting them but also yourself—your recklessness, your selfishness.
Director Kang chuckles awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood. “This is exactly what agents are for. They take risks for justice, for the greater good.”
“They didn’t want to nearly die, though, did they?” you retort, your eyes fixed on the table. Not because you’re afraid of meeting their gaze, but because you don’t want to see your reflection in their eyes—the reflection of a fool, of failure. “You know the risks imposed by the Crimson Fox, I know them—but those agents you sent? They didn’t. They didn’t risk their lives for justice; you put their lives on the line without letting them know what they were getting into beforehand. You said it yourself—I’m the only person capable of handling this mission. And yet you sent them anyway.”
Director Han brushes you off, her tone dismissive. “I don’t quite understand why you’re being so emotional. This is unlikely coming from you, Agent. If you’re so concerned about them, then why didn’t you do your best to protect them? They wouldn’t have been wounded if you just taught yourself to be less selfish and reckless, no? Quit the emotional turmoil. The compass is now in our hands, and that’s the only thing that matters. You’re dismissed.”
The finality in her words stings. You rise from your seat, feeling the weight of their gazes on your back as you turn to leave the room. The doubts and guilt gnaw at you, refusing to let go. You know that while the compass may be secured, the cost was too high. Director Liu calls out your name before adding, “Given the circumstances, it’s highly unlikely that the Crimson Fox will strike again anytime soon. For now, the mission will be put on hold.”
You nod, absorbing their words. But the relief they seem to feel only deepens your inner turmoil. Dismissed, you walk out of the meeting room, your steps heavy with guilt. As you walk through the halls of the headquarters, you pass by the infirmary. Through the transparent doors, you see all of your fellow agents who were with you on the mission, lying on hospital beds, their injuries a stark reminder of the night’s failure. A tear slips down your cheek as you tear your gaze away and continue walking.
This was exactly your biggest fear. You didn’t mind being sent on dangerous missions, didn’t mind losing a limb for what it was worth, didn’t mind dying by the hands of a criminal—but inflicting harm on your colleagues because of your rash decisions was something that would always haunt you. They were hurt, not just because of the Crimson Fox, but because of you.
You weren’t a fool to trust them, but you were a fool to not foresee the consequences of your orders. Agents send concerned looks your way as you pass through the hall, but you use every fiber in your body to try to ignore them. Passing by the lounge, you catch sight of Yeosang. Just as he’s about to approach you, you quicken your steps to the elevator leading out of the headquarters.
Each step on your way home feels dreadful. Once you finally arrive home, you can’t even muster the strength to go to your bedroom. The moment you close your house’s door, you press your back against it, sliding down as sobs wrack your body. You cry endlessly, not even allowing yourself a moment to breathe. The guilt, the doubt, the haunting images of your fallen comrades—all of it overwhelms you, leaving you feeling more vulnerable than ever before.
Were you truly good enough for this? Was tonight really as much of a success as the directors were making it out to be? Was not having to be on the scene for about a week really something to celebrate? Sure, they shouldn’t have sent those agents to begin with, but you should’ve thought more rationally, too. The words the Crimson Fox spat rang endlessly in your mind.
“You think you’re fighting for justice, for the greater good. But what if the people you work for are hiding the truth from you? What if you’re just a pawn in their game? You see, they’re not as noble as you think. They have secrets, dark ones. And you’re blindly following their orders, thinking you’re making a difference. But are you?”
As you sit there, the implications of his words gnaw at you. What if the directors were hiding something? Their dismissive attitude towards your injured colleagues, their relentless pursuit of the seemingly insignificant artifact, and their lack of transparency—all of it began to form a troubling picture. The directors didn’t seem to care about your fellow agents that were wounded. They only cared about the artifact and the mission. The thought unsettled you, planting a seed of doubt in your mind about the true nature of the organization you were so dedicated to.
And then you remember what he said that hit you the most.
“You know, I was expecting more from you. I’ve heard so much about your skills, your dedication. But now that I see you like this... I’m disappointed.”
Disappointed.
Were you really worth holding your title if you couldn’t even catch a thief your level? Were you really as good as you were made out to be, or had you just never found your match all along—until now?
You begin to question everything. The confidence you once had in your abilities feels shattered. The Crimson Fox had not only outsmarted you but had also tainted you with a sense of doubt about the very organization you served. You wonder if you’ve been blind to the darker aspects of the agency, too focused on your missions to see the bigger picture. You sit there, questioning your place in all of this. Were you really making a difference, or were you, like he had said, just another pawn in a game you didn't fully understand?
The next few days were nothing short of dread for you. The library, once your sanctuary and source of normalcy in your chaotic life, now felt like a chore. Each book you shelved, each patron you assisted, only reminded you of the emptiness gnawing at your core. You tried to convince yourself that you were unaware of the reason, but deep down, you knew it all too well.
Wooyoung hadn’t visited the library since the night of the mission to stop the Crimson Fox from getting his hands on the compass—the night that started this numbness. His absence left a void, a missing puzzle piece in your life. You had always found solace in his presence, a beacon guiding you back to the right path when your mind was a storm. But now, in your time of need, he was nowhere to be found. Even now, as you assisted a patron in finding a book that suited their interests, your thoughts drifted to Wooyoung. Where was he? What was he doing? Why hadn’t he come to see you? Was he thinking about you, too? You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice the patron gently tugging the sleeve of your blouse.
“Excuse me, miss. Could you tell me more about this book?” the patron asked, holding up a novel.
You blinked, bringing yourself back to the present. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, clearing your throat. You began explaining the book’s plot and themes, managing a weak smile as the patron thanked you and walked away. Left alone in the aisle, you found yourself staring blankly at the shelves, drowning in your thoughts. Time seemed to blur. You didn’t know how long you had been standing there until a familiar voice broke through your haze.
“Oh, there you are! I was wondering where you—” Wooyoung’s cheerful tone trailed off as he saw the expression on your face.
You turned to him, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He quickly closed the distance between you and entered the aisle you were standing in, his concern evident. “Hey, are you okay?”
His words were the final push, breaking down the fragile walls you had built around your emotions. Without a second thought, you let yourself fall into his arms, burying your face in his shoulder. The dam broke, and you sobbed uncontrollably, your body shaking with the force of your emotions.
Wooyoung held you tightly, his hand gently stroking your back. “It’s okay, it’s okay, alright?” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered spirit. “I’m here. Just let it out.”
The comfort of his embrace was overwhelming. You clung to him as if he were your lifeline, the tears flowing freely now. The pain, guilt, and doubt you had been holding back poured out in waves. He didn’t rush you or press for answers, simply standing there, offering silent support.
Wooyoung led you to a secluded area of the library, away from prying eyes. He found a quiet corner with a small table and sat you down, choosing to sit beside you instead of across. The soft, ambient light filtered through the high windows, casting gentle shadows around you both. His presence was comforting, a steady anchor in your turbulent sea of emotions.
Without a word, he began rubbing gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing. He seemed to instinctively know that you weren’t ready to talk, that you needed a moment to collect yourself. The library was silent except for the soft rustle of pages and distant whispers, providing a tranquil backdrop to your chaotic thoughts. You kept your eyes down on the table, focusing on the grain of the wood as you tried to steady your breathing.
After a while, when the storm of your emotions had calmed to a manageable level, you finally spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
Wooyoung blinked, clearly puzzled by your apology. “Hey, no, don’t say that. You have nothing to apologize for,” he said gently, but you waved him off before he could continue.
“I didn’t mean to just suddenly have an outburst like that,” you explained, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.
“It’s normal,” he reassured you, his tone soothing. “It’s okay to let it out. It happens to everyone.” He paused, gauging your reaction. When he saw that you weren’t ready to dwell on your breakdown any further, he quickly shifted the conversation, his next statement catching you off guard.
“I think roadman vampires would be pretty sick.”
The sudden statement startled you out of your melancholic state. You looked at him with an unreadable expression, as if he had just blurted out the most absurd combination of words to ever exist. “Sorry, what?” you asked, incredulous.
“I mean, think about it,” Wooyoung continued, undeterred. “Picture me this: you’re walking down the street, right? It’s dark, a bit sketchy. Suddenly, this roadman vampire rolls up on you, tracksuit and all, but instead of asking for drugs or some cash, he’s like, ‘Bruv, spare us a pint of your blood?’”
You stared at him, still trying to process the bizarre turn the conversation had taken. “Are you serious right now? What, like, ‘Oi mate, got any O negative?’”
"Yeah! And instead of carrying knives, they carry little blood bags strapped to their belts—and their hoodies have those fake vampire teeth printed on them. ‘Bloodsucker’ written in bold letters across their backs.”
You couldn’t help but be caught off guard. The mental image he painted was so ridiculous that you found yourself struggling to hold back a laugh. “No, seriously! Imagine the street lingo mixed with vampire lore. ‘I’ll suck ya blood, fam’ becomes their catchphrase.”
That did it. You broke into a short fit of laughter, struggling to keep your voice down in order not to disturb the other patrons. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but this time from amusement rather than sorrow.
“What do you think?” he urges, insistent on pushing further with his agenda.
“I think you’ve officially lost your mind,” you said between giggles, shaking your head. Silence engulfs both of you—a comfortable one at that, while Wooyoung seems to still be imagining the scenario of randomly stumbling upon a roadman vampire. Just then, three words came out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“I missed you.”
The library around you seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with the weight of your admission. Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your confession. You hurriedly straightened up in your seat, trying to backtrack, your cheeks warming with embarrassment.
“I mean, it’s just, you know, you have this infectious enthusiasm and—”
“You did?” Wooyoung interrupted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and hope. “You missed me?”
Your heart raced as you met his gaze, searching for any sign of judgment or discomfort. There was none. Just a flicker of something warm and genuine in his eyes that made you feel oddly vulnerable. “I... I did,” you admitted quietly, unable to look away from him.
A smile slowly spread across Wooyoung's face, softening his features. “Well, tell you what, I missed you too,” he confessed, his voice gentle. “It felt strange not having you around.”
A rush of relief flooded through you, mingling with a hint of disbelief. You had expected awkwardness or perhaps a polite deflection, not this genuine reciprocation.
“You did? Like, really, really did?” you echoed his words, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of playful skepticism.
Wooyoung chuckled, his smile widening. “Yeah, I really, really did.”
His genuine response eased the tension between you, and you found yourself relaxing in his presence. The heaviness of the past few days seemed to lift slightly, replaced by a warmth you hadn’t felt in a while. “You know,” Wooyoung continued, his tone light but sincere, “you’re an amazing person. Strong, dedicated, caring. You might not always see yourself that way, but trust me when I say that’s how you look in my eyes.”
You blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected praise. “You think so?” You tilt your head.
“Know so.”
He then continued, “And, you know, if you ever need someone to distract you by reading the entire Hotel Transylvania script in roadman slang, I’m your guy.”
“You’re my guy?” you teased, unable to resist poking fun at Wooyoung's unintentional slip.
“I mean, um, you know, for when you’re going through a tough time or just want to hang out. Not in that way, or, like, I mean, if you—” Wooyoung stumbled over his words, cheeks flushing slightly.
You cut him off with a laugh. “I know what you mean, Woo. I was just messing around.” The nickname slipped out effortlessly, and you didn’t even notice it, but Wooyoung felt his heart skip a beat.
After your playful banter, you stood up, straightening the light crinkles on your blouse. Wooyoung looked at you curiously. “Where are you going?”
You smiled amusedly at him. “You know I’m the librarian here, right?”
Wooyoung chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, yeah, right.”
Before you could head back to your station at the registrar, you turned back to him. “Thanks for making me feel better, Wooyoung.”
As you started to walk away, Wooyoung stood up abruptly, catching up to you. “Wait.” He gently grabbed your wrist, and you turned to him with a surprised look. “Yeah?”
He stumbled over his words for a moment before blurting out, “I was thinking... maybe I could take you out to dinner tonight. Just to lift off the rest of your burdens and have a good time together. My treat.”
Silence fell between you for a couple of seconds, and Wooyoung appeared nervous, waiting for your response. You smiled at him, unable to resist teasing a little. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
The joke was meant to lighten the mood, but as Wooyoung shyly chuckled, your eyes widened in slight surprise. He was.
“It’s okay if you don’t—”
“I’d love to, Woo,” you interrupted, your smile growing wider at the genuine delight on his face.
“Really? I mean, cool, cool. Yeah, cool,” Wooyoung tried to play it off casually, but his eyes betrayed his excitement.
You returned to the counter to continue your work, aware of Wooyoung stealing glances at you from his seat nearby. Each time your eyes met, he would quickly look away, making you chuckle softly to yourself.
When your shift finally ended, Wooyoung’s enthusiasm was almost palpable, though he tried to mask it with nonchalance. It was endearing to see how he eagerly offered to handle the closing duties. He started tidying up the library, insisting you just sit back and relax. He even took your bag, slinging it over his shoulder with a playful smile.
Once you were outside, as you locked the doors with your keys, Wooyoung reached up to pull down the metal shutter. You stopped him by gently holding his wrist. “I can handle it,” you said with a smile.
He looked at you, his eyes warm. “I know you can, but I want to help.”
Caught off guard by his sincerity, you let go of his wrist and watched as he effortlessly brought down the shutter. It was a simple gesture, but it made you feel cared for in a way you hadn’t expected. As the two of you walked down the quiet street, you couldn't help but ask, “So, where are you taking me?”
Wooyoung’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “That’s a surprise. Just trust me.”
You chuckled, deciding to play along. The comfortable silence that settled between you was filled with a sense of ease and familiarity. You took the opportunity to glance at him, noticing the effort he had put into his appearance tonight. He looked especially dashing, dressed in a black turtleneck and well-fitted pants, exuding a charm that was hard to ignore.
“So, this is why you’re all dressed up, huh?” you teased, a hint of a smile on your lips.
He looked slightly bashful but met your gaze with a grin. “Well, I had to make a good impression.”
You laughed, feeling a lightness in your chest that had been absent for days. The weight of your earlier troubles seemed to lift, if only for a moment, as you walked beside Wooyoung. The evening air was cool and refreshing, and as you walked, you found yourself feeling increasingly at ease. Wooyoung kept the conversation light, sharing amusing stories and anecdotes from his recent trip. His animated storytelling and genuine enthusiasm made you smile and laugh, easing the lingering tension in your mind.
When you finally arrived at the restaurant, you were pleasantly surprised. It was a cozy, intimate place with a warm ambiance. Wooyoung held the door open for you, and you feel a sense of anticipation. As you and Wooyoung entered the cozy restaurant, a waiter greeted you both with a warm smile. “Ah, what a lovely couple! Please, follow me to your table,” he said, turning to lead you through the intimate setting before you had a chance to correct him.
The waiter led you to a table in a quiet corner, and you noted the reserved sign with a small, appreciative smile. Once seated across from each other, you looked at Wooyoung with playful skepticism. “So, you reserved a table for the lovely couple, huh?”
Wooyoung quickly waved his hands defensively. “I swear, I didn’t tell him we were a couple or anything like that!”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, Woo. I’m just playing around.”
You both placed your orders, and as you waited for your food, the conversation naturally turned to his recent trip due to you asking him about it. While he was recalling fragments of moments from it, a particular memory appeared in his mind.
“Oh, you know, one day, we were painting this huge section and suddenly a storm rolled in. We had to scramble to cover everything and ended up drenched. We were laughing so hard by the end of it. It was a mess, but a fun one,” he said, his eyes twinkling with the memory. “It was pretty hilarious. We spent the next day fixing everything that got messed up, but it was worth it. The mural turned out amazing, and Yunho was really happy with it.”
“Sounds like you had a great time,” you said, feeling more relaxed as you listened to his stories.
“I really did! Enough about me, though,” Wooyoung said suddenly, leaning forward. “I want to know more about you.”
You blinked, a bit taken aback. “Huh?”
“You know so much about me, but I know almost nothing about you,” he pointed out, his expression earnest.
It struck you that he was right. “You... want to know more about... me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, smiling warmly.
You hesitated for a moment, considering how to navigate this without revealing too much. “Well, there’s not much to tell. I’ve always been more of a listener than a talker,” you began cautiously.
He tilted his head, encouraging you to continue. “Come on, there has to be something. Hobbies? Favorite books? Something you’ve always wanted to do?”
You began pondering, trying to gather your thoughts. “Well, let’s see... I guess I’ve always been a bit of a bookworm. I love getting lost in stories, exploring different worlds, and seeing life from different perspectives. That’s partly why I enjoy working at the library so much. It’s like being surrounded by endless possibilities.”
Wooyoung nodded, his eyes fixed on you with genuine interest. “I can totally see that. You always seem so at home there, like it’s your sanctuary.”
“It really is,” you agreed with a small smile. “I find comfort in its silence, the smell of books, and the sense of order. It’s a nice contrast to how chaotic life can get sometimes.”
“Do you have a favorite book?” Wooyoung asked, leaning in slightly.
You thought for a moment, a smile forming on your lips. “It’s hard to pick just one, but if I had to choose, it would probably be ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen. I love the wit and intelligence of the characters, and the way the story critiques social norms.”
Wooyoung’s eyes lit up with interest. “That’s a great choice. I’ve heard a lot about it, but I’ve never actually read it. What do you like most about it?”
“It’s so many things,” you began, your excitement growing. “The main character, Elizabeth Bennet, is such a strong, independent woman, especially for her time. She’s smart, witty, and not afraid to speak her mind. And Mr. Darcy, well, he’s complex. At first, he seems arrogant and aloof, but as the story progresses, you see that he’s actually very kind and caring. Their dynamic is fascinating to me, and what I love most is their banter. The dialogue between them is so sharp and clever. They challenge each other, and through that, they grow as individuals. It’s not just a love story; it’s about personal growth and overcoming prejudices. Oh, not to mention, Elizabeth’s my favorite character from the book, too.”
Wooyoung pressed on further, his interest piqued. “What specifically draws you to her?”
“She’s such a remarkable character,” you said, your voice taking on a more reflective tone. “Elizabeth is not just intelligent and witty; she’s also incredibly perceptive and resilient. She navigates the rigid social structures of her time with a kind of grace and strength that’s really inspiring. She doesn’t let society dictate her choices, especially when it comes to marriage, which was a huge deal back then.”
Wooyoung nodded, clearly engrossed. “She sounds like someone worth admiring.”
“She really is,” you agreed. “What I find most compelling is her growth throughout the novel. She starts off with a lot of preconceived notions about people, particularly Darcy. But as the story progresses, she learns to look beyond her first impressions and recognizes her own faults and prejudices. It’s a humbling journey that makes her all the more relatable and admirable.”
“You see a lot of yourself in her, don’t you?” Wooyoung said, a gentle understanding in his eyes.
You paused, feeling a wave of vulnerability. “Yeah, I do. Elizabeth’s courage to speak her mind, her refusal to settle for anything less than what she deserves, and her ability to learn and grow from her mistakes... it all resonates with me deeply. I admire her character so much, and sometimes, I try to channel a bit of her strength in my own life.”
Wooyoung’s smile was warm and encouraging. “I think you’ve got a lot of that strength already. It’s clear just from talking to you.”
“Thanks,” you said, feeling a rush of gratitude. “It’s nice to talk about these things with someone who genuinely listens.”
“I’m really glad you shared that with me,” he said softly. “I can see why Elizabeth Bennet is your favorite. You’re really passionate about this book,” Wooyoung observed, his smile widening.
“I guess I am,” you admitted with a laugh. “I’ve read it so many times, and each time, I find something new to appreciate. Like how she subtly critiques the societal expectations placed on women, or how she portrays the complexity of human relationships. It’s brilliant.”
“Maybe I should give it a read sometime.” He stared above the ceiling and back into your eyes, a genuine haze wrapping itself around his eyes.
“You should,” you encouraged. “It’s more than just a romance novel. It’s a commentary on society, class, and the human condition. And it’s so well-written. Her use of irony and satire is masterful.”
“You’ve convinced me,” Wooyoung replied with a grin. “I’ll start reading that someday in the near future.”
“I think you’ll really enjoy it,” you said, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction. “And if you ever want to discuss it, I’m always here.”
“Deal,” he said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I’m looking forward to it.”
As the conversation progressed, you found yourself opening up more and more. Wooyoung’s genuine interest and warm presence made it easy to share parts of yourself you usually kept hidden. You talked about your love for music, your fondness for rainy days, and even your tendency to get lost in thought while daydreaming.
“You know, it’s really nice getting to know you like this,” Wooyoung said after a while. “You’re even more interesting than I already knew you were.”
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. “It’s nice getting to know you too.”
As the date continued, you found yourself increasingly caught up in Wooyoung’s stories and laughter. He regaled you with tales from his college days, his animated expressions and infectious enthusiasm pulling you into his world. The way his eyes lit up with each memory, turning into joyful crescents as he laughed, made it hard not to get lost in the moment.
It was beautiful—he was beautiful.
But amidst the warmth and ease, a nagging doubt then began to creep into your mind. Was it really wise to let your feelings for Wooyoung develop, knowing the secret life you led? You were a spy, a covert operative whose existence was built on deception and danger. The thought of letting someone in, of allowing yourself to grow close to another person while harboring such a monumental secret, seemed almost reckless. Would it be safe to live under the roof of a house built in lies, knowing it is bound to fall?
Your thoughts wandered to the precarious balance you maintained every day. Your life was a constant dance on the edge of peril, where one wrong move could lead to complete catastrophe. Could you really afford to bring someone into that world, to risk their safety and well-being? The rational part of your mind screamed that it was impossible, that a relationship built on lies and half-truths could never truly flourish.
Yet, as Wooyoung shared a particularly hilarious memory involving a college prank gone wrong, you found yourself laughing along with him, the sound echoing warmly between you. His genuine joy, the way he seemed to find light in every situation, was like a stark contrast to your troubled thoughts. For a moment, the weight of your life lifted, replaced by the simple pleasure of being with him.
You watched him closely, taking in the way his eyes sparkled, his mouth curving into a grin that seemed to light up the entire room with ease. In that instant, all your worries and doubts seemed to fade into the background. It was as if his laughter had the power to push away the shadows that constantly loomed over you. You’d spent so much of your life calculating risks, planning every move with meticulous care. But here, with Wooyoung, it felt different. It felt right to let your guard down, if only for a little while, and enjoy the moments of happiness he brought into your life.
For once, it felt right to be wrong.
As his laughter subsided and he took a sip of his drink, you found yourself smiling more genuinely than you had in a long time. There was something about him that made you want to take that leap, to embrace the uncertainty and see where it led. You could hear the voice of reason in the back of your mind, cautioning you against it, but your heart was pushing you to choose to ignore it. Maybe this path was fraught with risks and uncertainties, but you were willing to take the chance. For now, you would let yourself be swept up in the joy and warmth that Wooyoung brought into your life. And maybe if you search hard enough, you could find a way to balance the shadows and the light, the secrets and the truths, in a way that allows you to truly live.
For the next few days, your life began to take on a new rhythm. Mornings once filled with solitude were now punctuated by Wooyoung’s cheerful presence. Each day, he would visit the library, transforming what used to be a quiet, routine part of your life into something vibrant and new. You had always seen the library as your sanctuary, a place where you could retreat from the chaos you’re bound to. But now, it was becoming a place where you felt truly alive, thanks to Wooyoung. You spent hours together, sharing stories, laughter, and a growing sense of connection. You learned that his sense of humor was more playful than what he’d let you on, often surprising you with his quirky questions and offbeat observations. He seemed to take genuine joy in making you laugh, and you found yourself looking forward to his visits more and more. It was during one of these conversations that you had mentioned, almost offhandedly, that you often skipped breakfast. It was just a passing comment, a small detail about your hectic mornings, but Wooyoung had latched onto it with surprising earnestness.
The next day, he showed up with a warm breakfast sandwich and a coffee, setting them on your desk with a grin. “You can’t start your day on an empty stomach,” he had said, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and concern. It became a ritual after that, his daily offerings of breakfast a tangible reminder of his thoughtfulness. Over time, the simple gesture began to chip away at the walls you had built around yourself. You found yourself growing softer, more open, and warmer towards him, as if the barriers you had erected to protect yourself were finally starting to crumble.
As the days passed, you discovered more facets of Wooyoung’s personality. He had a quiet depth to him, a sensitivity that contrasted with his often boisterous demeanor. He spoke about his passions, his dreams, and his past with a sincerity that was both endearing and disarming. You found yourself sharing more about your own life, albeit carefully avoiding any details about your work as a secret agent. Still, in the moments you spent together, you felt a connection that was both profound and unsettling. You knew that you were treading dangerous ground, allowing yourself to care for someone when your life was so precariously balanced.
But then, reality intruded. The brief respite you had enjoyed came to an abrupt end as you found yourself back in the headquarters, in the sterile, impersonal confines of the meeting room. The transition from the warmth of Wooyoung's company to the cold efficiency of your workplace was jarring. Director Han greeted you with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, her tone deceptively casual as she welcomed you back.
“Did you spend your break time to its fullest?” she asked, her voice smooth and untroubled. It was ironic, almost infuriating, that she could speak to you so casually after the way she had dismissed the well-being of your fellow agents weeks ago. Her apparent indifference to their suffering had been a bitter pill to swallow, but you had learned not to expect anything different from the director board. You forced a positive response, careful not to reveal the real reason your break had been enjoyable.
“I did,” you replied, keeping your voice steady and professional.
“Good,” she continued. “Because from now on, no distractions shall be allowed to enter your line of sight.”
You narrowed your eyes, sensing the gravity of what was to come. “Why is that?” Your eyebrows furrowed lightly.
Director Liu stepped forward, her expression grim. “The Crimson Fox has his eyes on a new artifact,” she said, her voice laden with significance. “And this mystical property is of utmost importance. Its value surpasses anything he has targeted before.”
You crossed your arms, skepticism evident in your posture. “Mystical properties? Are we basing our mission on legends now?” you began, your voice rising with incredulity. “Forgive me, Director, but you have to admit, this sounds like a wild goose chase. First, it’s an old painting, then a compass, and now this? Why are we placing such high value on what seem to be random artifacts?”
Director Liu’s expression remained stoic, but you pressed on. “You’re coming off as suspiciously secretive. There’s a lack of transparency here, and I’m not comfortable with it. If there’s something about this artifact that’s critical, I need to know. Otherwise, I can’t accept this mission.”
The room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. The directors exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Director Kang spoke up, his tone conciliatory.
“The artifact in question is not just a relic. It’s a key component in a much larger puzzle, one that we’ve been trying to piece together for years. Its significance lies not only in its historical value but in its potential to unlock other, more powerful artifacts.”
You considered his words, your mind racing. “And you expect the Crimson Fox to know this? To understand its true value?”
Director Han nodded. “He’s always been one step ahead, understanding the deeper connections between these items. We believe he has access to information that we do not.”
You sighed, the pieces slowly falling into place. “Alright, but if you want me to risk my life for this, I need full disclosure. No more secrets.”
Director Liu’s eyes softened slightly. “You have our word. We’ll provide you with all the information we have.”
With that assurance, you shifted gears. “What are the risks involved in this mission?”
Director Kang’s expression grew serious. “The risks are considerable. The artifact is being kept in a high-security facility with state-of-the-art defenses. But the Crimson Fox has proven time and again that he can circumvent such measures. There’s also the risk of collateral damage. We can’t afford another incident like the last mission.”
You nodded, the memory of the previous mission's failure still fresh. “And you’re not planning on accompanying me with other agents again, are you? You know what happened last time.”
Director Han shook her head. “No. This time, you’ll be going alone. We can’t risk another failure.”
You hummed in thought. Well, at least they’re aware of the damage they caused. “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him.”
Director Han’s smile was approving. “That’s the spirit we need. Now, let’s discuss the specifics.” Then, they began to outline the details of the operation, and you listened intently, asking pointed questions and clarifying key points.
“The artifact is housed in the Armitage Museum,” Director Kang started. “It’s a high-security facility with several layers of defense. Surveillance cameras, motion detectors, laser grids, and a rotating guard schedule.”
You leaned forward, absorbing the information. “What about the artifact’s location within the museum? Is it in a display case or a secured vault?”
“It’s in a secured vault in the basement,” Director Liu replied. “The vault itself has a biometric lock system, requiring both fingerprint and retinal scans.”
“Whose biometrics?” you asked, your mind already working on possible infiltration methods. “The museum director and head of security,” Director Han answered. “We have gathered some intel on their schedules, but gaining access to them will be tricky.”
“How exactly do you expect me to bypass all these security measures?” you questioned, your tone sharp. “And what about backup plans in case things go south?”
“We have a tech team working on a device to temporarily disable the security systems,” Director Kang said. “It will give you a window of approximately ten minutes to get in and out. As for backup plans, a secondary team will be on standby outside the museum, ready to intervene if necessary.”
You frowned. “Ten minutes isn’t much time. What if the Crimson Fox has already infiltrated the museum by then?”
“That’s a risk we have to take,” Director Liu admitted. “But our intel suggests he hasn’t made his move yet. He seems to be waiting for the right moment.”
“And you believe that moment is imminent?” you pressed, wanting to be sure.
Director Han nodded. “All signs point to it. We can’t afford to wait any longer.”
You took a deep breath, considering the gravity of the situation. “What about the museum’s guard schedule? Any gaps or vulnerabilities?”
Director Kang pulled up a digital layout of the museum, highlighting key areas. “The guards rotate every four hours. The weakest point is during the shift change, which happens at 2 AM. There’s a brief period of about ten minutes where the new shift is settling in and the old shift is wrapping up.”
You nodded, making mental notes. “So, we time our infiltration during the shift change. What about the museum director and head of security? Are they on-site during that time?”
“The head of security is on-site, but the museum director leaves around midnight,” Director Liu said. “We’ll need to find a way to access the director’s biometric data before he leaves.”
You pursed your lips, nodding slowly. “Alright. What about the Crimson Fox? Any recent intel on his whereabouts or movements?”
“We believe he’s been laying low, preparing for this heist," Director Liu replied. "But we have no concrete information on his exact location.”
“Great,” you muttered to yourself sarcastically. “So, we’re going in blind, hoping he doesn’t show up at the worst possible moment.”
“It’s a calculated risk,” Director Kang said, his tone firm. “But we have confidence in your abilities.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’ll do it. But if things go sideways, I’m not taking the fall for this.”
“Understood,” Director Han said. “We’ll provide you with all the support you need." The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the upcoming mission settling over you. Despite the tension, you felt a familiar sense of determination. You had faced dangerous missions before, and you would face this one with the same resolve. As the meeting concluded, you gathered your materials and prepared to leave. The mission would take place tomorrow night, giving you just enough time to make the necessary preparations. You knew the risks were high, but you also knew that you were the best person for the job.
The day of the mission came quicker than you had expected, and today, you decided to spend your entire day in the headquarters training room. It had been a while since your last appearance on the scene, and you didn’t want to get too comfortable—especially not now, with Wooyoung unknowingly making you softer. As you warmed up, your muscles responded with a familiar ease, the rhythm of your movements a comforting reminder of the life you had chosen. This was your world, where precision and control reigned supreme. You moved to the climbing rig, scaling its heights with practiced agility. But then, unexpectedly, your hand slipped on a rung, and you plummeted to the ground, landing with a heavy thud. The impact jolted through you, making you hiss in pain. It was unfamiliar—usually, you never messed up like this.
Gritting your teeth, you pushed yourself back up. You couldn't afford to falter now, not with such a critical mission looming. But as you continued your training, your mind kept drifting to Wooyoung. His smile, his laugh, the way he looked at you with those bright, sincere eyes. You wondered, if you hadn't been dragged into the world of espionage, would you have been able to live a normal life with him? Would you have met him under different circumstances, where you were just a normal librarian without any lies to cover up? Would you be sitting across from him at a café, holding his hand instead of a training handlebar? In another reality, would your days be filled with mundane joys and quiet moments, rather than the constant threat of danger and deceit?
You tried to shake it off, but the questions persisted, echoing through your mind. Each time you lost focus, your balance wavered, and frustration mounted. You kicked the wall in anger, the sound reverberating through the empty training room. Sinking to the ground, you ran your hands through your hair, feeling the weight of your double life pressing down on you.
You got too carried away.
The line between your professional life and your personal desires blurred, leaving you vulnerable in a way you hadn’t anticipated. The stakes were too high for distractions, but the more you tried to push thoughts of Wooyoung aside, the more insistent they became. What would it be like to wake up each day without the looming specter of danger? To simply enjoy a quiet breakfast with him, without the burden of secrets hanging over your head? You imagined lazy Sunday mornings, his arm draped over your shoulders as you both laughed at something trivial on TV. The normalcy of it all seemed almost unattainable, a distant dream compared to the harsh reality you faced.
Your training session deteriorated into a series of missteps and missed cues. Each failure added to your frustration, culminating in a moment of sheer exasperation. You kicked the wall again, harder this time, before collapsing against it, breathing heavily. The training room, once a place of focus and discipline, now felt suffocating. You let your thoughts wander freely, for just a moment longer. Perhaps in a different life, Wooyoung would be waiting for you at home, a comforting presence after a long day. Maybe you would have shared stories about your days, him talking about his friends and his life, while you shared anecdotes from the library. The mundane yet beautiful simplicity of it all was both a solace and a torment.
But this was your reality. You were a secret agent, and tonight, you had a mission to complete. The risks were too great, and the stakes too high, to indulge in fantasies of what could have been. With a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the ground, determination hardening your resolve. You couldn’t afford to let your emotions get the best of you. Not now. Not when the Crimson Fox was still out there, waiting for the right moment to strike. You had a job to do, and no matter how much you wished for a different life, this was the path you had chosen.
Standing up, you squared your shoulders and resumed your training with renewed focus. The thoughts of Wooyoung lingered, but you forced them to the back of your mind. There would be time to sort through your feelings later. For now, you needed to be at your best. The hours ticked by, each one bringing you closer to the mission.
After concluding your training session, you decide to make a quick stop at the bathroom to wash your face and clean yourself up. The training session had left you sweaty and disheveled, and you needed a moment to compose yourself. As you walk down the corridor, you pass by the storage room where they kept broken training equipment. The door is slightly ajar, and you catch the sound of hushed whispers. Curiosity piqued, you slow your pace, straining to hear the conversation. One voice is male, the other female, both speaking in low tones that suggest secrecy.
“Are you sure this is the right time for it?” the male voice asks, sounding nervous.
“We don’t have a choice,” the female voice replies, more assertive. “Everything’s in place. We need to act before it’s too late.”
“But what if someone finds out? The consequences—”
“Keep your voice down,” she hisses. “No one can know. Especially not her.” Your heart skips a beat. Who were they talking about? And what was this plan they were so secretive about? Your mind races with possibilities, but you know better than to jump to conclusions without more information.
Just then, you hear footsteps approaching from a distance. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, you quickly move away from the storage room and head to the bathroom. Once inside, you lean against the sink, letting the cold water wash over your face as you process what you just heard. Why were they talking about that? What could they be planning? And who were they referring to when they said “her”? You know the headquarters well enough to recognize that not everyone can be trusted, but this conversation feels particularly sinister.
As you dry your face, your thoughts swirl with suspicion. You couldn't afford to ignore this. But confronting them directly without evidence could jeopardize everything. You needed to tread carefully and keep an eye out for any further signs of shady activity. Finishing up, you take a deep breath and straighten your posture. With your mind now sharpened by both the day’s training and this unexpected encounter, you make your way to the briefing room, ready to face the mission ahead. But in the back of your mind, the conversation lingers, a shadow that you can't shake off—yet you force them into the back of your mind, as there’s a mission to be done, and distractions could be fatal. The director board goes over their initial plan, and you sense they are putting more effort into this than the last few attempts to capture the Crimson Fox.
You arrive at the museum entrance, immediately checking the security cameras by the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you saw that all of them were broken, yet the sight inside the museum was what surprised you even more. The security guards were all lying unconscious on the floor, every security system is disabled, and the lights were off. The only illumination comes from the dim glow of the moon passing through the windows. You move cautiously, noting that every guard and system is down, which is unprecedented.
When you reach the large room housing the vault where the artifact is kept, you’re surprised to find the vault open, yet the artifact is still inside. You take your first step towards it when you sense a presence above. You quickly turn and grab the foot aiming for your face before it can make contact.
“Agent,” he starts, his voice smooth and mocking. “How nice to see you again.”
“You seem to have gone through a lot of trouble to get here tonight,” you note, glancing at the unconscious guards. “What’s your endgame?”
The Crimson Fox chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. “My endgame? I think you already know. But the real question is, what’s yours?”
“Saving the artifact from your hands,” you retort, tightening your grip on his foot before releasing it, forcing him to backflip away from you.
He lands gracefully, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “And why do you care so much about this artifact? Do you even know what it truly is?”
“I know it’s important to the organization,” you reply, keeping your voice firm. “Important to the organization,” he echoes, a hint of derision in his tone. “But why? Have you ever asked yourself that? Why would they value something that, to everyone else, seems insignificant?”
You hesitate, and he catches it. “You’re starting to wonder, aren’t you?” he continues, stepping closer. “Starting to see the cracks in the façade. Tell me, why would they go to such lengths to protect this? What are they hiding?”
His words leave you pondering, but you refuse to show it. “You talk a lot for someone who’s about to lose.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says, his tone almost playful. “But deep down, you know I’m right. You’ve seen enough to question them. To doubt.”
“Why do you care what I think?” you taunt, genuinely curious now. “Why are you trying so hard to make me doubt them?”
“Because,” he says, his voice softening just a fraction yet still deceiving, “I see potential in you. It’s just… misdirected.”
His words make you pause. “You don’t know me.”
“Maybe not,” he admits. “But I know enough. And I know you’re not blind. You can see the truth if you look hard enough.”
“And what truth is that?” you challenge, your heart pounding. He smiles, but it’s devoid of positivity. He then responds, “That’s for you to find out. But first, you have to want to know.”
“Do you?”
His question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. You’re at a crossroads, and you know it. The choice you make now could change everything. You stare at him, your mind racing. He’s given you a choice, a chance to see things differently. And for the first time, you’re not sure which path to take.
The fight then begins, and unlike the other battles you had with him that were more reckless, more about testing which of you was more skilled, this one felt different. There was an intensity, but also a strange harmony to your movements. Each strike, each block, each dodge—everything flowed seamlessly as if you were engaged in a violent dance, perfectly in sync.
It was a depiction of brutal beauty, a choreography of combat. Every step was calculated, every move met with a precise counter. The sound of your bodies colliding, the whisper of fabric, the heavy breaths—it all combined into a symphony of motion and energy. It was as if time slowed down, the world narrowing to just the two of you, locked in a battle that was as much about understanding as it was about defeating.
He lunged at you with a swift kick, and you dodged with a grace that matched his own, retaliating with a high kick that he barely managed to block. You spun, he ducked, you struck again, he parried. The fight was a dance where your movements entwined in a deadly ballet. There were no words exchanged, just the raw, primal communication of bodies in motion, testing each other’s limits.
Finally, you saw an opening. With a swift move, you caught him off guard, pinning him to the ground on his back. Knees on either side of his torso, you held both of his arms above his head with one hand, the other drawing a dagger from your pocket. You used it to lift up his mask and remove it.
The sight that met you filled you with utmost shock and a mixture of everything all at once.
“Wooyoung...?”
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🪞— lividstar.
192 notes · View notes
ripdragonbeans · 2 months ago
Text
Do You Believe In Fate? // Pt. 1 // Aegon II x Reader
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Artwork: @emilykaldwen // Beta: @exitpursuedbyavulcan
Summary: Falling in love with Aegon wasn’t easy. You would think the years gone by would make it less difficult but it turned out that was not the way fate worked. Fate brought you together but would it keep you apart as well?
Warnings: eventual smut, bodily harm, gore, hurt/comfort
A/N: I tried posting it all at once but Tumblr said it was too long so I guess I'm breaking it into parts lol
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6
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Aegon has always been loud, that’s just who he is. And he was your neighbor. As cliche as it was, you fell in love with him. It wasn’t all at once. It was one year, one step at a time. You always found yourself drawn to him in some way. You swore up and down that there have been glances between you two over the years, lingering touches, soft words. It all happened so quickly that you could never be sure if they were real. Despite everything life threw at you and Aegon, you two would always find each other, even if sometimes you didn’t want to.
Being two years older than you, Aegon acted like he always knew better than everyone else, especially when it came to his younger siblings, Helaena and Aemond. You and Aegon were civil at most. A passing nod here and there; a kind smile every now and then. When you were younger there were rarely any genuine conversations but he was always around. Always around you.
Unlike your relationship with Aegon, you were close to Helaena and Aemond, always have been. Helaena was your best girl. Together you two would giggle over boys and girls and talk about your favorite things. Aemond was your best guy. You would work on homework together and have debates simply for the fun of having a debate.
Within the first few years of meeting Aegon and his siblings, a steady rhythm between the four of you was found. You’d hang out with Helaena and Aemond while Aegon would do his own thing near you three. Most of the time Aegon was on his Gameboy but he was always paying attention. Sometimes you thought that he needed friends, that he should join you and his brother and sister, but his attitude would say something different. Sometimes, the three of you would try to play somewhere away from Aegon but he would always end up in the same room anyway. You considered it a lose-lose situation.
“Aegon, come play with us!” Helaena called out.
“Let me think about it.” Aegon waited a few seconds. “No.”
Aemond picked up the biggest dragon and flew it over your head. “If you’re just going to sit, go sit somewhere else.”
Aegon stuck out his tongue. “Just because you said that, I’m staying, little brother.”
Aemond cringed. He hated being the youngest of the three.
You rolled your eyes and continued to play with your dragons and your blocks. You focused hard on making the most perfect castle for everyone’s dragons to live in. Red, blue, and yellow blocks were stacked on top of each other with a yellow triangle block adorning the top of the castle as the roof.
You were admiring your hard work when a thought occurred to you. “Let’s make flags for our castles!”
Excitedly, you turned towards your friends only to find them already on their feet on their way to grab art supplies. You laughed as you got up to join them but stopped at the doorway. You didn’t like that Aegon wasn’t joining you.
“Would you like to make a flag, Aegon? I can make you your own castle, too.”
“Pft, I’m eight, I can make my own castle,” he proclaimed. He got up from his comfy chair and put his Gameboy down. “But yeah, I’d like to make a flag.”
You gave him a big grin. “Yay!”
Aegon followed you as you led the way to the big dining room table that was now littered with art supplies. Helaena and Aemond made sure to get everything. There were glue sticks, pom poms, crayons, markers, colored pencils, paint, paper, scissors, and little sticks for the flags. Helaena even pulled out her special foam stickers for the occasion.
“Come on, you guys! You’re slow!” Called Helaena.
She was already working on her flag, picking out the stickers she wanted. The outline of a butterfly was on her paper, colored with purples and pinks. You peered over at Aemond and saw the outline of a dragon blowing fire.
You turned to Aegon. “What are you gonna put on your flag?” you asked.
“Oh, I know exactly who’s gonna be on my flag.” A mischievous smile snuck its way onto his face.
Your eyes widened in horror at the implication but you caught yourself before you could say anything stupid. Aegon strolled into the room and plopped himself into an empty chair.
You took in all the art supplies laid out in front of you. A smile spread out across your face as you reached out and grabbed whatever caught your eye. Crayons of various colors were soon in a pile in front of you. Ideas bounced around your head and it was hard to pluck out just one. Thinking hard, you turned your attention to Aegon, curious to see what he was working on. You couldn’t see much but you did see a swarm of purple. Just then an idea popped into your head.
“And done!” Aegon exclaimed as he jumped out of his chair. Even though he was the second last to start on his flag, he was the first to finish. Aegon stood tall and proud as he showed off his flag. “I present to you the flag for the House of Waluigi!”
A once white piece of paper now had a carefully drawn picture of Waluigi from the Super Mario games. He was tall and gangly and had a long, pointy nose that Aegon had extended all the way to the edge of the paper. His purple hat covered his eyes almost completely but a clever glint could still be seen. Waluigi’s limbs were just as long as his nose, if not longer. Aegon drew him almost like a long legged spider creature.
It brought a chuckle out of you, seeing the flag. It was just so…Aegon. He locked eyes with you and smiled when you laughed and you felt yourself blush. It was a simple thing, and you didn’t know why, but it made you happy for some reason.
“Okay, I’m next,” Helaena said. She made a big deal of folding it up as she stood up so no one could see it. Slowly, she unraveled it. “Ta-da!”
Helaena’s flag had a butterfly with blue and green wings on a pink and purple background. It had a giant smile on its face and curly antennas that made a heart at the top of the paper. It was bright and colorful, just like her.
“I guess I’m next,” said Aemond sheepishly. There was no flourish in his showing of his flag but there was still a glint of pride.
Aemond’s flag was black with a large green dragon breathing fire. It was fierce, despite being drawn by a four year old. “Her name is Vhagar and she’s the mightiest dragon!” he let out a giant laugh.
Giggles erupted from all of them. Aemond was sweet and quiet, no one really thought he would choose a dragon for his house.
“I’m last so that means mine will be awesome!” you said between giggles.
You took a breath and flipped your paper over to reveal your flag. It was a three headed dog, with one head looking silly and lopsided and the other two looking fairly serious.
“He may not breathe fire but this dog is really big and can probably fight your dragon, Aemond,” you teased. “And her name is Jeremy Triangle Dot but we call her Dot for short. Mainly because Dot is the boss. She’s the middle head.”
Aemond rolled his eyes. “Vhagar is a dragon. A dragon.”
“I bet if I put Waluigi on Dot we could defeat Vhagar!” Aegon jumped in.
“Hey, not fair!” Aemond pouted.
“It’s okay, Aemond. My butterfly will be super big and protect you with her wings.” Helaena piped up.
“Auntie Alicent!” You called out for your friends’ mother. She was a mother figure for you as well. “Look at our Houses! Who would you pick?”
Alicent came to the table and smiled at all of you.
“They all look amazing! I’m afraid I can’t pick one house. But we can say that I rule over all your houses as a queen,” she joked.
“Queen Auntie Alicent!” you cried.
“Queen Mother!” the siblings yelled in response.
“Okay, Queen Mother I am then,” Alicent laughed and messed up Aegon’s hair. “You children are so creative. Would you like smoothies?”
“A strawberry one!” Aegon yelled out.
“Yes, yes, I know, Aegon. I’ll get you all your favorite smoothies.” She left after pressing a kiss atop all of your heads.
The four of you spent the next two hours making up stories of your Houses and how they all lived together in the same kingdom. The House of Waluigi warred with the Vhagar House while Butterfly House and Dog House stayed neutral through almost everything. The only time those two Houses warred was when the kingdom's flavor of ice cream had to be chosen.
It was the first time you, Helaena, and Aemond had fun with Aegon. For once, Aegon wasn’t on the side playing on his Gameboy or doing his own thing. The four of you grew together; the relationship between the siblings being the best it’s ever been and the relationship you had with them being built on a strong foundation.
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Seven years went by and you were all still as thick as thieves. The only difference was that you found yourself hanging out more with Aegon than Helaena and Aemond. It wasn't noticeable to anyone else but it was to you. You found yourself sitting next to Aegon and talking to him more. Whenever you were playing a game with the siblings you were always on the same team as Aegon.
Together, the two of you were inseparable, even at that young age. Through some sort of finagling, your mother and Alicent got you, Aemond, and Aegon all on the same football team. Really, though, the three of you should not be in the same age bracket. To make things a little even, however, you and Aemond, at the age of ten, played with Aegon’s team; them at age thirteen. Nevertheless, it was chaotic fun for the three of you. Helaena, on the other hand, preferred to stay off the pitch and cheer you on from the sidelines.
“Aeg, through! THROUGH!” You called from the other side of the field. If he would just pass the ball, you could sprint through the two defenders in your way and take a shot at the goal without being offside.
Aegon was being a ball hog, playing around with the ball just to show off and keep it away from the opposing team. The opposing team actually being the Targaryen’s cousins’ team.
“Aegon, focus!” you tried to get his attention.
Eventually, Aegon looked up and saw your plan. He gave the ball a strong kick. It flew through the air, over you and the other defenders. You sprinted as fast as you could. Since you were behind the defenders when Aegon kicked the ball, if you got to it before they did you would be safe to continue towards the goal without any penalty.
One of the defenders, a cousin of the Targaryen siblings, Jace, came up next to you, also sprinting his heart out. The two of you locked eyes in a heated battle of dominance. Smirking at him, you dug deep for that extra burst of speed you needed to beat Jace to the ball.
The ball was still making its arc in the air when you finally passed Jace just a tiny bit. When it hit the ground it bounced once. Twice. Three times before you were able to catch it with your foot. Jace was right behind you. Already you dug yourself into the ground, ready for any hit from him that could push you off the ball. You dribbled fast, dodging the defenders that have come up to catch you. Swerving in and out you saw the perfect opportunity to take a shot. Grabbing that burst of energy deep inside you, you gave one final push so it was just you and the other team’s goalie. He dived at you but you were quick to avoid him and kick the ball to the back of the net.
Aegon whooped and threw his hand in the air before tackling you in a hug. Helaena and Alicent were cheering loud on the sidelines and Aemond jumped up and down in his goal box, getting ready for the next kick off.
Jace started the kick off. He passed it to his little brother, Luke, and they went straight for the goal. Pure force. That wouldn’t work, not with your team to stop them. Luke was fast but you were faster. You caught up to him easily and fought for the ball. You were able to kick it out of his control and pass it on to Aegon. Aegon took it and tried to boot it down the field but Jace got the ball back before he could. He was about to reach out and grab Jace’s jersey.
“Aegon!” you warned him. He didn’t need to give the team a free kick, not now.
Aegon looked at you and scowled but quickly replaced it with a playful wink. Then off he went, chasing after Jace.
Jace was a decent distance from the goal box when he let the ball fly. It didn’t actually go through the air, but was a fast and strong kick that stayed on the ground. Luke followed the ball and Aegon followed Luke. As Aemond dived for the ball, Luke attempted to slide tackle the ball out of Aemond’s reach. Instead of hitting the ball, though, Luke hit Aemond’s eye cleats up.
A scream of pain.
Blood.
So much blood was pouring out of Aemond’s face.
Luke just sat there, stunned at what just happened. Jace was quick to run to his younger brother and make sure he was okay but of course he was. He wasn’t the one who got cleats in his eye.
You grabbed Aegon’s hand and ran him over to his brother.
“Aemond, you’re gonna be okay,” he told his brother.
Aemond was holding his face with one hand. The goalie glove he had on was soaked in blood. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was barely shake or nod his head.
Alicent was running onto the field. “Aemond! AEMOND!”
Coach Otto, Alicent’s father, also ran to Aemond. He picked him up effortlessly. “I got you.”
Aemond mumbled something but you couldn’t make it out.
“Keep that hand on your eye, gotta keep the pressure there.” Coach Otto turned to his daughter. “Meet us at the emergency room.”
Alicent nodded silently. She looked at her children, her children and you. “Helaena, Aegon, and my dear, are you alright?”
Helaena nodded her head. She was in shock. You went over to her and gave her a tight hug. She held onto you hard.
Aegon just lowered his head. He didn’t say or indicate anything. All you could tell was that he was angry.
“I’m… I’m fine. I think,” you told Alicent. “I want to go with you to the emergency room. Is that okay?”
Alicent enveloped you in a hug of her own when you let go of Helaena. “Oh, my dear, of course you can.” She let you go. “Come now, all of you.”
With Alicent leading you all, you ran to the car and piled in. Alicent was normally a very safe driver but this time she was aggressive. When you arrived at the emergency it was clean. Almost too clean. You and Aegon stood out in your dirty football uniforms. Holding Helaena’s hand, you followed close behind Alicent.
“My son, my son, Aemond Targaryen was taken here. He was being carried by my father. There was blood pouring from his face,” she was telling the front desk.
“Yes, him,” the lady at the front desk seemed to be in no rush.
“Please, I’d like to see him.”
“You’re going to have to wait a bit -”
Aegon snapped. “Let us see our brother!”
“Aegon!” cried Alicent.
“Aegon, please, everything is going to be okay,” you tried to comfort him.
The lady coughed. “As I said, you’re going to have to wait. He was taken in for emergency surgery.”
Alicent’s face lost all color. “But, he’s alive, yes?”
“He should be fine.” The lady’s eyes softened. “Take a seat, it might be a long wait.”
“Thank you,” Alicent nodded her head.
You grabbed Aegon’s hand and took him aside to some chairs in a corner. Once you got to them, Aegon yanked his hand out of yours.
“Aegon, what’s going on?”
“What’s going on? My brother is in a freaking surgery because I couldn’t keep the ball away from our side. That’s what’s going on.”
“It isn’t your fault he got hurt. He’s a goalie, he knows the risks.”
“That risk shouldn’t be losing an eye!”
“It was Luke. You know it was. He shouldn’t have slide tackled like that. It’s illegal.”
“Yeah, and look where that got him. Luke isn’t the one facing the consequences,” Aegon spat. “Instead, it’s my little brother!”
You tackled Aegon in a hug and held him tight. His breathing, once rapid, slowed down. You felt his arms slowly circle around you, as though he was scared to do so. One deep breath. Aegon lowered his head to your shoulder and you felt his shudder. He was crying.
“It should’ve been me,” he whispered against you.
“Shh, I’m right here for you.”
You held him close and didn’t let him go. You’d never let him go.
By the time Aemond got out of surgery, Aegon was asleep with his head on your shoulder. Aemond had lost his eye. He came out with a white gauze taped over where his eye should’ve been. You shook Aegon awake when Alicent brought him over. Aegon looked at Aemond and instantly guilt filled his face.
“I should’ve done something. I’m sorry,” he told his brother.
“You weren’t the one who slide tackled into my face,” Aemond offered him a weak smile.
“He’s right Aeg,” you bumped him with your shoulder. “Everything is gonna be okay.”
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After Aemond lost his eye, Aegon started to change. You don't know whether it was just because he wanted to or if it has something to do with not being able to protect his brother. He was more protective of Aemond but he started losing himself. His temper was a little shorter and he learned to hurt people with words. It was as though his thought process was that if he couldn't protect him then he might as well do nothing.
Throughout middle school and junior high he made friends with kids…different from you and his siblings. They were wilder and louder. It seemed as though Aegon thrived with them. He soon started to taunt you and his brother and sister in front of them but would be quick to apologize when you'd walk home together. Away from everyone else. It was as though Aegon, the real Aegon, wasn’t good enough to be at school. Instead, he created this caricature of himself who’s even more obstinate than he already was. For a while it seemed as though he thrived on the attention but you could see it in his eyes that it was tiring. Yet he kept it up.
His relationship with Helaena and Aemond faltered. They were no longer the close siblings they once were. Aegon’s actions outside of home began to drift in. He would ignore Aemond, order around Helaena, and make snide comments at both of them. Your relationship with him changed, as well. He was less genuine with you, his jokes were even more crass than they used to be, and he’d ask you to get to know some of the other girls so he could know who to flirt with.
But there were still small moments when you thought everything would be okay. You’d share a sweet smile with him over a stupid joke. He’d tease you by taking away your water bottle but then playfully give it back. Every now and then he’d surprise you with a big bear hug but then linger just a little bit. Aegon would look at you sometimes and refuse to look away, even if you caught him. If he saw that you caught him, though, he’d play it off with a cheeky wink. When he thought you weren’t looking you could see how soft his eyes were, how they lit up when he looked at you.
Those moments would never last too long. As soon as someone else would sit next to Aegon he broke out of whatever spell he cast on both of you. It was like nothing ever happened. Like you two never even met. You thought you’d get used to the disappointment and dull pain in your heart but you never did. Your emotions were bottled up and they festered deep inside you, ready to burst open at any moment.
“Why do you do that?” you asked Aegon one day.
The two of you were at his house working on some homework.
He looked at you, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Why do you hang out with them?”
“You mean my friends?”
“Yeah, them.” You leaned back in your chair.
“Because they’re my friends,” he said slowly.
“But they’re nothing like us. Me and your brother and sister are on completely opposite sides.”
“I’m allowed to have more friends, it’s not a competition.”
You looked at him, wondering if he was avoiding something else. “Okay. I just worry about you hanging out with other people, especially them.”
“I’ll take care of myself, don’t worry.” He gave you a reassuring smile then returned to his work.
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toxic3mmy · 1 month ago
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Star Struck
prompt: you get a message from alex on tumblr
hai lovely peeps <3
this is gonna be a short little book type thing with a few more chapters to come
i hope you guys enjoy!
ps- ill try my best to update this series at least once a week!!!
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you mindlessly scrolled through tumblr. yes it wasn’t 2015 anymore but you still used the app religiously. you had a good number of followers, too.
you posted about all the emo and alternative music you were into and not to mention the youtubers who you loved.
your number one favorite youtuber was alexis quackity. you related to him in many different ways. he made you laugh on days you weren’t doing too well. he meant a lot to you, even if you didn’t know him personally and it was all most likely just an internet personality.
still, you found yourself talking about his latest let’s talk streams or even his random tweets. you loved having a community of online mutuals that felt the same way about quackity.
____
halfway across the country, alexis sat cross-legged on the floor of his cluttered apartment, surrounded by a sea of empty takeout boxes and energy drink cans. his eyes were glued to the computer screen, the glow from the monitor reflecting off his square-rimmed glasses. his mouse hand hovered over the keyboard, poised to respond to the endless stream of comments that flooded his youtube channel. his thumbs danced across his phone, scrolling through the notifications that seemed to never end.
it had been a wild ride for alexis since he started streaming games and posting videos under the moniker 'Quackity'. the fame had come quickly, and with it, the adoration of millions of fans around the globe.
sometimes alex would take the time and look through his community of devoted fans. he would use throwaway accounts to simply be unknown for once and just see what there was out there.
his fans were so unbelievably talented. many of them were amazing artists making portraits of him or even writing songs for him. some were even exceptional writers and the fanfiction stories he’d come across were actually pretty good.
amidst the digital chaos, one fan seemed to stand out from the rest. y/n, with her username 'Y/NIsNotHere', had caught his attention with her thoughtful comments and unyielding support. He clicked on her tumblr profile, and there it was: a fan account dedicated solely to him.
her profile was a shrine to his digital persona, filled with meticulously edited gifs, screenshots from his streams, and heartfelt notes about how his content had changed her life. Alexis felt a strange mix of flattery and curiosity. he hovered over the 'send message' button, his heart racing with excitement.
what did she look like? what was her voice like? would she be as amazing as she seemed? with a deep breath, he typed out a simple hello.
granted, he was using a secret throwaway tumblr account so he didn’t expect for an immediate response. and yet, the response still came rather quickly.
Y/Nisnothere: hi! whats up?
emoboy666_: nothing much, just surfin da web. so you’re a fan of quackity?
Y/Nisnothere: yeah im definitely a huge fan. there’s just something about him you know? he’s different, he makes me feel okay
alexis’ cheeks heated up after reading the compliment. he smiled softly as he continued to message you
emoboy666_: i totally get you! it’s nice to be distracted from things
Y/Nisnothere: for sure! so tell me about yourself
emoboy666_: well, im in my early 20s.. im mexican, i love video games and art….. oh and you can just call me A
Y/Nisnothere: well im 21, im also mexican, im also really into all things artsy and nerdy and well, emo lol, and you can just call me y/n :3
emoboy666_: i’m glad we have some things in common! your blog is really cool btw, it’s like a hidden gem amongst the cyber world
Y/Nisnothere: aw thanks! that’s really sweet of you to say <3
emoboy666_: no prob (: so, what are you doing right now?
Y/Nisnothere: oh not much, trying to do homework but getting distracted by tumblr and twitter lol. and u?
emoboy666_: oh same here, what do you study?
Y/Nisnothere: i’m studying art
emoboy666_: that’s awesome! maybe you should show me some of your work sometime
Y/Nisnothere: yeah! id love to (:
emoboy666: me too (:
Y/Nisnothere: (: <3
the two of you continued to message each other practically all night. you were happy to have made a new online friend and alexis was happy to get to know one of his fans.
neither of you truly knew who was on the other end of the phone but you still really enjoyed talking to one another. it was refreshing for the two of you.
you fell asleep with thoughts of your new friend, A
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les4elliewilliams · 10 months ago
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Ellie is away... // e.w
Chapter 2 - 2003, Freshman year college
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a/n: part 2 wooohooo. anywho tysm for the reblogs and likes on part 1, ilysm (reblogs and comments highly appreciated thank you:')) wc/cw: 900+ (ik its short as hell, next one is gonna be longer). swearing, mention of jesse hitting his head as baby (dina's a bully), ellie being a meanie. no smut but still MDNI. summary: time flew by and you had to leave your hometown and everything you knew for college, including your friends. they promised you nothing would changed once you moved away and that they would still annoy the shit out of you in a way (that way being either phone calls or messenger).
➥ part one, three
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brickmaster has signed in. brickmaster: yn hey :)
ynshere: Elsss hiii :)) ynshere: watcha doinnnn??
brickmaster: oh nothing really just playing this new videogame i got brickmaster: what about you?
ynshere: nothing just homework and talking to you ynshere: what’re you playing?
brickmaster: it's called gta vice city brickmaster: you would love it
ynshere: mannn i wish i was there ynshere: so how are you liking art school?
brickmaster: it's soo boring brickmaster: i don't know what i expected when i came here brickmaster: it's not bad but it's not as fun as i expected it’d be, you know?
ynshere: yeah i get it ynshere: i'm struggling with some classes right now ynshere: it feels like i haven't learned anything so far
brickmaster: yeah exactly brickmaster: that's how i feel brickmaster: sooo got any plans tonight?
ynshere: gonna hang out with a few friends tonight
brickmaster: damn replacing me already? brickmaster: and here i thought i was your one and only
ynshere: never. ynshere: you are my one and only.
brickmaster: lol good. I better be brickmaster: so what are y'all gonna do?
ynshere: just a movie night or something like that ynshere: what are you doing tonight?
brickmaster: Cat’s gonna be out with her friends so nothing brickmaster: i'll just hang out in my dorm i guess
ynshere: Cat who?
brickmaster: Cat from high school, remember her? brickmaster: we’ve been dating for a few months now
ynshere: oh ynshere: so she's your girlfriend now?
brickmaster: that's generally what dating means, yes
ynshere: no i meant like ynshere: i thought you said you didn't like her?
brickmaster: that was before i got to know her
ynshere: whatever. how did you even get together?
brickmaster: remember the party Jesse threw last year? brickmaster: Dina ended up hooking up with Jesse, you left early so i was all alone brickmaster: Cat was there and i don't know...we just hung out, smoked together brickmaster: After that party we kept talking and we realized we were going to the same school
ynshere: oh yeah right, she was also into art
brickmaster: yeah brickmaster: she's pretty cool, she's soo talented brickmaster: she wants to be a tattoo artist, so cool
ynshere: so are you ynshere: how comes you never told me about her? ynshere: like you didn't tell me you two were talking
brickmaster: i don't know i guess i didn't think you’d care brickmaster: or that it was worth mentioning
ynshere: yeah my bestfriend getting into a relationship isn't a big deal after all ynshere: well, what is she like? brickmaster: sorry sorry you're right brickmaster: she's funny, smart and she really understands me brickmaster: sometimes she gets a little too jealous and possessive but other than that she's good
ynshere: you guys argue a lot because of her jealousy?
brickmaster: yeah we do but we always make up so it's fine
ynshere: Ellie you know that's not exactly healthy right?
brickmaster: what do you mean brickmaster: is it because you don't like her or
ynshere: it's not that. all i'm saying is that it's not healthy to argue a lot ynshere: i don't know, sounds like a toxic relationship to me ynshere: you deserve better than that
brickmaster: don't be a drama queen brickmaster: arguing is normal and you’d know that if you were into a relationship
ynshere: i know i'm not exactly like a relationship master but i can recognize a toxic relationship when i see one
brickmaster: just forget it brickmaster: she makes me happy
ynshere: i just think that you should break up with her
brickmaster: dude brickmaster: who are you to tell me what to do brickmaster: it's not like you know anything about relationships anyway
ynshere: jeez i'm sorry ynshere: i just care about you
brickmaster: i can take care of myself brickmaster: weren't you gonna hang out with your friends?
ynshere: yeah. I should go
brickmaster: talk to you later then
ynshere: k bye
brickmaster is away.
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dinathedrummer has signed in
ynshere: dude did you know Ellie's dating Cat?
dinathedrummer: oh i'm fine yn, missed you too. school's going just fine, i love it thanks for asking
ynshere: lol sorry ynshere: hi Deedee ynshere: how you doin gorgeous?? ynshere: how's school going?
dinathedrummer: better. dinathedrummer: i'm doing alright. hate school though
ynshere: yeah i feel you ynshere: so back to what i was saying ynshere: fucking Ellie is dating Cat
dinathedrummer: absolutely fucking not dinathedrummer: why Cat out of all people
ynshere: right? and she treats her like shit ynshere: she can't even see it ynshere: i tried telling her but she won't fucking listen she even got mad at me
dinathedrummer: just Ellie being Ellie dinathedrummer: would've been weird if she actually listened to you
ynshere: true but still ynshere: why her
dinathedrummer: you sound jealous
ynshere: excuse you ynshere: didn't you like hate her guts? ynshere: how am i being jealous
dinathedrummer: come on yn. dinathedrummer: you think i'm stupid? dinathedrummer: even Jesse could see how you would look at her back in high school dinathedrummer: and we're talking about freaking Jesse, the same Jesse that hit his head when he was just an infant ynshere: stop bullying my man Jesse ynshere: and no, it's not like that ynshere: i just care about her ynshere: she's my best friend
dinathedrummer: and i'm not? dinathedrummer: why don't you just admit it to yourself dinathedrummer: i'm telling you, she feels the same
ynshere: how do you know that ynshere: she's dating Cat anyways
dinathedrummer: won't last long
ynshere: if you say so ynshere: anyways i gotta go, talk to you later?
dinathedrummer: talk to you later baby girl ;)
ynshere: ew.
dinathedrummer: that's just me being affectionate and supporting my bestest friend
ynshere is away.
dinathedrummer: forget i said that.
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¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!
taglist: @readbydayana @onlinelesbo
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gottagetback2u · 1 year ago
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✰ stray kids as uni bfs!
warnings: mentions of food, too much boyfriend material, cause of death: uni!seungmin, inconsistent use of correct spelling
welcome to my first post! <3
-✰bang chan
uni!bangchan definitely… struggles :’) he stays awake till 2-3am every night, either doing homework or procrastinating and making music. thank god his roommate basically lives with their partner, because u get to stay in his dorm with him during these early mornings, urging him to stay on task so he can sleep.
u guys met at the gym!!! u were trying to get back into exercising after the spring break and he saw u on the treadmill. literally hearts in his eyes. like the shy guy he is, he waited until u were almost out of the door before asking “do u go to the uni around here?”
let’s just say he was giggling and kicking his feet when u offered ur number to him <3
bang chan credits u for every completed assignment! he loves that u are so willing to help him, even if he is embarrassed to ask sometimes. (it goes like, “babe.. ugh i’m so sorry but what the fuck does he mean by this?”)
he will get u breakfast from the campus cafe before all of ur morning classes. he says it’s his job as a boyfriend, even if he only got four hours of sleep! (one time he slept in and got u lunch AND dinner to make up for it)
-✰lee know
lee know is an interesting student to say the least. his electives are all “art 101” and “basket weaving” because those are the ‘easy’ classes (sadly, no college class is easy) though, surprisingly, he is very interested in his major classes! studious student.
his go-to look is glasses with a comfy hoodie and sweatpants. when u see him on campus u can’t help but stare. comfy bf material.
u guys always seemed to cross paths at the off campus grocery store! u happen to be picking up comfort snacks after crying ur eyes out due to stress :( he strolled down the same aisle as u, quickly recognizing the university hoodie u had on, staring longingly at what oreo flavor to choose with fresh tears in ur eyes.
“i like the java chip ones :)” after he saw ur tears, he bought them for u.
ur dates consist of: trudging along campus to classes together, movie nights with snacks in the oh so comfy twin sized dorm bed, and grocery store runs! he also loves to do sheet masks together! (just don’t tell anyone how soft he is for u)
studies come second to him. u come first <3
-✰changbin
a jock but not in the aggressive type way. he just wants to lift and pass his classes. (which he always does! nothing below a B- for binnie)
he is good with in-class work! whipping out assignments while the teacher is talking about the subject is light work for him. but homework… alone in his dorm…. his kryptonite. for some reason focusing is so hard in that situation!
when u first heard him speak in economics class, u didn’t expect him to be so sweet?? u sat a couple rows back, so good thing he couldn’t see ur constant staring. his smile, his biceps, his too-tight shirts, his everything.
group projects are ur guys’ weakness because you somehow always get put together. (not that u mind!) in ur third group project this semester, he bit the bullet and asked u out! he was so nervous that he made a whole google slide saying “will u go out with me?” he asked han to decorate it lol.
studying together is no easy task. ur talking about currency then suddenly in a sweet make out sesh! he said he couldn’t handle the “sweet” looks u were giving him.
really soft boyfie !
-✰hyunjin
my art student. what else would he major in?
you guys actually met in starbucks on campus! hyunjin tries to do essays in a cafe setting to “stay focused” (he really just wants to be aesthetic).
you work as a barista, and after taking his order, he couldn’t take his eyes off of u for the 2 hours he was there. he ended up sketching u instead of write his essay! shockingly, he was able to muster up the courage to at least ask ur major before he left (aka, rushed out and ran into the door).
you guys are the sickly sweet couple everyone sees on campus. u are always together!!! hyunjin wants nothing to separate ur hand from his >:(
of course, when he has freedom to choose for his big projects in his art classes, he always chooses something that reminds him of you. he doesn’t like painting portraits that much, so he will choose to paint ur favorite flowers, your first date scene, your hand holding his… yeah, he’s that type of boyfriend :’)
he despises his required classes, like english and math. he doesn’t understand it like he understands art, so he needs ur support!! please run ur fingers thru his hair when he’s whining about his weekly reading!
he loves ur relationship more than anything <3 he’s so happy he can spend his college years with u
-✰han
oh boy. how do we even start this.
i think he tries his best. he really does! he doesn’t want to be one of the few in his class failing, but he just doesn’t really grip onto learning the required subjects like english.
this is how u two met! u work for the university as a tutor, and han was required tutoring for english or else he would get dropped from the class :( he showed up to the tutoring session in an empty lobby in the main campus building, and as soon as he laid eyes on u, he cursed himself. he was supposed to be learning, how can he do that when he has the prettiest person in front of him!! :’(
even outside of ur sessions u help him all the time! he appreciates ur help so much, and of course he doesn’t want his partner to have to help him with his work 24/7, but u don’t mind at all.
his schedule is chaotic. wake up, go to class, go by the convenience store to get both of u snacks, come back to UR dorm, nap in UR bed, wake up when u get back from classes, walk around campus together, get dinner in the dining hall, then fall asleep at HIS dorm.
he always praises himself for choosing to live in a quad with his own room and praises u for working for the university so u get ur own dorm. “it’s like we knew we were going to date!”
he always shows his love and appreciation. power college couple <3
-✰felix
felix has the time of his life in college. he loves being independent, doing something new, and just taking it all in.
that’s why he decided to be ambitious his freshman year; getting a job right away at the campus cafe, and also continuing his hobby of dance by taking a freestyle dance elective!
u were also taking the elective class to try and get more in to ur passion for dance. u never felt too confident in ur skills, so what better way to improve than in a class with others that were learning too!
when felix walked in the room the first day of class, looking all professional in his beanie, oversized sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, u were immediately attracted… but also intimidated!! he must be so good (>:d) u guys actually got put as partners for ice breakers, then a partner project, then a mid-term project, realizing how genuine and sweet he is!!
let’s just say,, things got a lil close for ur projects. flirting was a given around him and kissing, definitely happened.
and even though his excitement for college was a 100! his grades… struggled to reflect that :( like others, college is hard to grasp sometimes!! u continued to help him and remind him that everyone is having a hard time too <3
another sickly sweet couple. he just can’t pry himself away from u!
-✰seungmin
i kinda feel like seungmin is like,, the perfect fit for uni boyfriend? he just gives off those vibes to me so much. (yes i am seungmin biased haha)
does he have all 100% in his classes? yes! does he procrastinate? hell yes…..that’s all he does. to try and help his problem, he wants to study with u! he thinks that this will help him focus more bc silence is always comfortable between u two. but it just ends up him playing some game and u watching, messing him up every time he’s close to passing the level.
if you guys have an in-person class together, he wants needs to sit by u. he doesn’t find it right that u don’t want to sit next to ur own boyfriend. how dare u actually want to listen to ur professor instead of engage in snarky side conversation the whole time >:(
he loves walking around campus late at night. not like, 2am but more like 10pm lol (cuz besides staying up for hw, i feel seungmin is an avid sleeper). after ur night class, he will meet u by ur dorm building and walk around, hands linked the whole time. this is the time where he’s affectionate and loves to talk about ur relationship aww!! it’s conversation like “i remember the first time i held ur hand”, and “we should have another takeout homework date in the library soon”.
i could literally go on and on about uni!seungmin bc it’s a perfect match ahh.
-✰i.n
high school classmates to college classmates! it might have been handy to know someone going into college…. if u and jeongin even knew who each other were.
“yang jeongin? he was in my homeroom? uhh-“
i.n thought that he didn’t need help going thru his first year. he wanted to be independent and make friends on his own >:( butttt with each passing day, adjusting to new classes and even his roommate moving out, he couldn’t even manage to talk to someone new for more than a minute.
u finally recognized him when u saw his academy hoodie he was wearing one day! u rushed to reach him before he entered the classroom, and when u two made eye contact… god jeongin thought the world stopped.
from then, u guys slowly started seeing each other more, than exchanging numbers, then hanging out! ur hangouts usually consisted of studying, but it always ended up in doing to the dining hall and eating together, staying in their right until it closed.
let’s just say, u both struggled in the homework department. but quizzes?? yang jeongin is, surprisingly, an academic weapon.
he loves quality time with u. staying up late, just being in each other arms and talking about nothing.
he will also most definitely require u to watch old minecraft videos with him. quality time right! :)
masterlist!
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hwaslayer · 1 year ago
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project: make you love me (jyh) | seven.
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♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 4.4k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing, oc teaches yunho a few moves hehe, subtle flirting and small signs of affection, yunho meets oc's mom and sis! (coincidentally) lol, mingi being weird again due to his loyalty with hwa, yeosang encourages yunho to just go for it 😭
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Yunho swings his keychain around his finger, letting out a breath as he makes his usual trek to the back parking lot. He's exhausted, and he can't wait to just plop onto his bed and do.. nothing.
As he approaches the gym, he hears the once-subtle music now getting louder and louder— though, the rest of campus is quiet, the parking lots are quiet, gym much emptier than usual. When he passes the dance studio window, he sees you alone. Your music is blasting, you're figuring out choreography and cleaning steps up. Yunho can't help but stare a bit until he realizes how odd he must look through the window. So, he diverts his attention and begins to walk on, afraid of ruining your me-time.
"Yunho!" He turns over his shoulder, seeing you leaning near the window screen. "Hey you!"
"Hey." He stops and takes a few steps closer to you.
"You were just gonna pass without saying hi? I've barely seen you all week." You pout, and Yunho thinks it's the cutest thing the world.
"I'm sorry, it's been quite the week. But, you looked too focused, I didn't wanna interrupt."
"Not even! I could use the distraction." You motion for him to come inside. "Come! Unless you have other plans, then don't let me be a bother." You chuckle.
"Alright, if you say so." Yunho laughs a bit and walks towards the front desk, tapping his student ID card on the reader before walking in. He hasn't been to the gym in a minute, mainly because of how swamped he's been with homework and projects. He quickly peeks into the basketball courts, seeing there's open gym going on for those who want to play volleyball. He catches a glimpse of Soobin and Seungmin joining your other friends in a game, Chaery nowhere to be found.
He finally turns down the hallway and finds the dance studio, seeing you continuing to rehearse with the music booming in the room. He steps inside and shuts the door behind him, standing off to the corner to let you finish off your thought process this time around. Your moves flow together, fluidly shifting from one movement to the other— Yunho thinks you're pure art, even if he's not witnessing the entire piece right now.
"You can sit if you want." You tell him as you jog over to your phone and lower the volume.
"What're you working on?"
"Finalizing a part of our piece for a competition coming up soon."
"Competition, hm?" Yunho sits against the glass with one leg propped up, arm hanging loosely over it. "Don't you have a performance tomorrow?"
"I do." You laugh. "But, we wanted to do something a little different for the competition. It's something we've performed before. Just changing a few things around."
"I see."
"Where were you coming from? Library?" He nods.
"My usual. Why aren't you taking a break and playing with your friends?"
"I'm terrible at volleyball, I'll just make them lose and they'll be mad." You giggle. "Chaery is having dinner with her parents. They came down to visit."
"Yeah, I didn't see her around."
"Mhm. She'll probably be back later tonight." You yawn and try to shake off the exhaustion slowly hitting you. "So.. are you coming tomorrow?" You shyly ask him and all Yunho does is stupidly shrug in response.
"I'll try." And he wishes he could take that back the moment it slips out. Because he really does wanna go. He's just not sure how comfortable he'll feel. But he does. He wants to support you and be there for you. You've been nothing but patient and incredibly sweet to him, it's the one thing he could do.
He doesn't do this, though.
He's not really sure how to?
Should he just say congrats after the performance and give you a hug [which might turn into an awkward one-handed hug because he is who he is]?
Should he buy some flowers?
Should he wait for you with the flowers?
Should he buy some for Chaery too so she doesn't feel left out or anything? Because don't you two come in a package deal?
God, it's been so long for him. And he feels so pathetic.
"You promise?" 
"Promise." 
"Fair enough." You smile. "I just need to go through this a few more times before calling it a night. I gotta teach it to the group."
"You're okay with me around? Isn't it a secret?" You nod.
"Of course. The piece isn't a secret." You tilt your head and giggle. "Actually. Can I teach you a few steps?" Yunho laughs, ears a bright red tint.
"Teach me? I don't know how to dance, Y/N."
"Everyone does, especially once they learn a few steps." You hold out your hand. "Please? It'll be simple and quick." He sighs a bit and stands, slowly walking over to you.
"I don't know. As long as you don't make fun of me."
"I won't." You take his hand and lead him to the center of the room. You watch as he stands tall next to you, shaking his head and slightly creating some distance.
"Wait, I don't know. I-I really don't think I can—"
"Yunho." You look up at him and hold his wrist gently. "Just a few. You're gonna do great. Trust me?" He swallows the lump in his throat before silently nodding, letting you take the lead on teaching him a simple 8 count. He follows along easily, and he learns quick. You're surprised Yunho has never had any dancing history because with the way he moves, you would've believed he had been pursuing it just like you— as a passion, a hobby. You repeat the 8-count a few more times with him before you're blasting the music and having him join along with you. He gets a bit more comfortable, letting you playfully hit him when he messes up on purpose and gives you a look. But, there are other times when he'd reach for your hands and try to prevent your hit— holding your hand and laughing along with you.
"I'm done, I'm done. I swear I'll do it right this time." You slightly whine, letting his hand go to get back into position.
"Yeah, you better."
"I'm not the one with a competition!"
"Still!" He laughs.
"Okay, okay. Jeez, I didn't think I was gonna workout today." He smiles, a soft pink tint coloring his cheeks. He gladly works through the steps once more before stepping out and letting you do your thing, watching off to the side. He crosses his arms and nods in acknowledgement, softly clapping his hands when you've stopped dancing.
"I don't know how this is gonna work."
"Y/N, you're doing great. Seriously. It'll turn out amazing. You have a bit of time, don't be so hard on yourself."
"You think so?" 
"You need to give yourself a lot more credit."
"Thank you, Yunho. Especially for letting me randomly teach you." He chuckles.
"It was fun, and I am honored." You giggle.
"Are you just going to head home?"
"Mhm. Be lazy. Think I can give myself that. Do you need a ride?" You shake your head.
"I'm here until Soobin and Seungmin finish."
"You sure you don't need a ride home?" 
"Positive. I should really finish this anyway." You giggle before softly hitting him on the chest. "Hope you got a good workout today."
"Kinda, yeah. Probably won't do that for awhile."
"Have a good night, Yunho." You look up at him so sweetly that Yunho feels his knees buckle a bit. Even under the dim studio light, he finds you so, so pretty.
"Will you.. text me when you get home?" He scratches at his temple, unsure if he's coming off needy. 
"Of course."
"Okay." Is all he says before grabbing his things, holding his keys in his hands. "Have a good night, Y/N. Don't practice too hard."
"I'll try not to." Yunho gives you a small nod before walking out of the studio. He's not sure if he'd ever say this out loud, but he feels something in his chest when he hears the door shut behind him— now creating a barrier between you and him. He pauses for a second, pondering if he should just sit in the studio and get more work done while you practiced, but he shakes it off and continues walking out of the gym facility.
No.
He was here to help you with literature. He didn't think it'd be anything outside of that. So no, he can't be too much for you right away. He doesn't want to be.
When Yunho gets home, Yeosang is in the kitchen making himself some food. Yunho greets him and brushes past to grab a cold bottle of unsweetened green tea from the fridge.
"Did you just finish from the library?"
"Kinda, yeah." Yunho takes a quick sip. "I, uh, saw Y/N while she was practicing so I hung out in there for a bit." 
"Cute. She has another performance tomorrow, right?"
"Mhm, but she was practicing for their competition coming up soon."
"Shouldn't she be taking a break for the performance tomorrow?" Yunho shrugs.
"Her friends are playing volleyball." Yeosang chuckles.
"Are you going to go tomorrow?"
"Hm, I think so. I don't know."
"You should."
"Mm, I don't really go to these things." 
"You can do one night for Y/N." Yunho nods.
"Yeah, I guess so. I probably will." He sighs. "I wanted to get her some flowers but I didn't wanna be too much."
"What? No. You wouldn't be. She'll appreciate that gesture."
"Maybe." Yunho lets out a small, pathetic laugh. He is definitely overthinking, and Yeosang is very aware.
"Let me know how it goes." 
"Yup." Yunho bids him farewell before settling in his room.
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The next day comes quick, and it's a blur for your team. You get to the auditorium bright and early, instantly doing a dry rehearsal and marking the stage before putting on some stage makeup and rehearsing with your performance outfit. It's been so busy that you haven't really gotten a chance to text Yunho back after his goodmorning text—
you: hi yunho, goodmorning! it's gonna be super busy today so i'm sorry if i don't text back right away. i hope i'll see you later, i'll be looking out for you in the crowd. ☺️
yunho: aw, morning! no worries, goodluck today 😊 you'll kill it!
Meanwhile, Yunho heads to the front of the building, quickly buying a ticket before heading indoors. Right before he enters the auditorium, he sees single roses being sold near the far right entrance of the auditorium. Yunho thinks to himself for a moment, wondering if it's a good idea to do this or not. He already settled on the fact that he wouldn't— just to play it safe. But somehow, he feels like this is a sign that he should do it.
Fuck it.
He lets out a breath before he maneuvers through the crowd, instantly handing the seller some cash. He quickly thanks her and makes his way inside, finding a seat in the middle— close enough to see you, but far enough to see the entire stage. He wants to make sure he sees your friends, and he wants to see the piece in its entirety. He lets out a breath, settling into the [uncomfy] chair with the program in his hand.
He flips through the page, reading through the various performances, seeing your group come up towards the end. Typically, he'd hate to sit through all of this. But, he knows you'd really appreciate him staying and supporting the entire show. 
So, he sits. He waits. He supports.
But, he's eager to see you. He's eager to see you kill it on stage because he knows you will. 
In the next 15 minutes or so, the lights dim in the auditorium, and the MC is beginning to kick off the night with a brief introduction, followed by the meaning behind tonight's concert and what it will be supporting. It takes off with a quick, and intense start— another dance group guesting and beginning the show.
Afterwards, it follows with some singing. A band playing their instruments. Traditional, cultural dancing. Solo stages.
Until the lights shine down on the stage, and he finally spots you, Chaery, your friends. You all hold your poses until the music starts playing loudly in the auditorium, surround sound speakers booming in their corners. You all start off strong, facial expressions properly conveying the intensity of the piece. It splits off into an all-girls piece, before the boys find their way in and it becomes one. All of your moves are pristine and sharp, and the entire piece flows cohesively. Yunho is in awe, and he's not even sure where to look first. 
He regrets not having watched you earlier. 
The piece is 5 minutes, but Yunho feels like it goes by way too quickly for his liking. The last bits to close the piece out makes the audience roar in screams and yells just as the lights dim and your figures are hurrying off the stage. Yunho claps, smiling big and wide after; feeling the adrenaline and excitement that is being shared amongst the entire room right now. 
You killed it out there.
Yunho feels proud of you, and he's glad he got to see you on stage.
When the show closes out, everyone stands and begins to make their way out of the auditorium. Yunho matches the slow pace of the crowd as everyone continues to walk out and wait for their loved ones to come to the lobby. Yunho feels like he should wait here for you to arrive, but he sees a group of people push through the hallway doors on the right— screams erupting from the other side. Before he can even think about it, his feet are already taking him to the hallway, hoping he can find you there.
And luckily for him, he does. 
He smiles to himself when he sees you down the hallway; fresh off the stage and looking beautiful as ever. A few people come to greet you and hug you, praising you and your friends for the great performance. Yunho keeps his hands behind his back as he walks closer, your eyes landing on him from past your friend's shoulder.
"Yunho!" You squeal, running to him. "You actually made it!"
"I did." He smiles. 
"Sorry, I'm gross and sweaty."
"You look good, Y/N."
"Are you lying?" He laughs and shakes his head.
"No, never that." He shifts. "I.. have something for you?" He says in a cute, questioning tone just as he pulls out a single rose from behind his back. "You did great out there." He smiles at you, a subtle rose-tint growing on his cheeks.
"Yunho." You look at him, and at first, he's not really sure if he fucked up already. But, before he could let his thoughts consume him, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. "You're so sweet. Thank you." Yunho takes you in before wrapping an arm around you. He does wrap the one arm around you tightly though, giving you a gentle squeeze before pulling away.
"Where's mine?!" Chaery playfully questions, but Yunho chuckles a bit and pulls out another rose from behind his back. He genuinely wanted to buy her one since she was your bestfriend. Chaery has always been nice to him, and it's the least he could do to show his appreciation for that, and for always taking care of you. Chaery gasps, pouting while taking the flower from Yunho's hand. "Oh my god, I was totally just kidding. You're so sweet, Yunho. Thank you." She pouts.
"It's nothing. You guys did really great up there." Yunho shifts his weight from one foot to another before digging his hands into his pockets.
"He is so cute, please Y/N." She turns to you and whines. "Please snatch him up."
"Can you quit?' You whisper harshly before Yunho is greeting Soobin and Seungmin, praising them for the successful piece. Suddenly, your mom and your sister come rushing through with a big bouquet in hand, your mom pulling you into a big bear hug.
"That piece was amazing! You guys did great!" Your mom praises you with a smile, brushing your hair out of your face before moving onto Chaery.
"Proud of you as always." Your older sister hands you the bouquet, eyeing the rose already in your hand. Her eyes go to you, Yunho's [who is back to observing on the side], then back to you. "I see you got a rose already?"
"Oh, uh." You shyly chuckle and tuck your flowers close to your chest. "This is Yunho. Yunho, my mom, my sister Leia."
"It's nice to meet you." Yunho swallows the lump in his throat, feeling like the world is caving in on him right at this moment. He should've expected your mom and sister to be here, why wouldn't they be? He just didn't expect to be introduced. Jesus Christ, Yunho. Get it together.
"A very tall and handsome one." Your mom says, making your sister and Chaery giggle. "It's nice to meet you, Yunho." She smiles at him.
"My parents wanna grab something to eat with everyone. Shall we get going?" Soobin comes towards you, your family and Chaery. You all nod, giving leverage for your mom, sister and Chaery to shift their attention towards him, Seungmin and the rest of the dance team. Yunho slowly steps closer to you again, a small, toothless smile on his face.
"Gonna go eat?"
"Mhm. You should join us!" He shakes his head.
"You should enjoy your dinner with your family and friends." You give him a tiny smile of acknowledgment.
"Thank you for coming, Yunho. Seriously." You chuckle and nod before raising the rose up. "And for this. I'll make sure to take really good care of it."
"Good." He tilts his head and quickly swipes his tongue over his lips. "Have a good dinner."
"I will. You too? Get something to eat, okay?" You gently set the flowers down before wrapping your arms around his neck for another quick hug. This time, Yunho can successfully wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close properly. He smells like.. woody sage, with a mix of his laundry detergent. You slowly pull away, keeping your gaze on him while subtly biting on your bottom lip. "I'll text you later."
"Okay." Is all he responds with. You find it hard to pull yourself away from him, like some kind of force that wants to keep yourself attached to him; a force that keeps you wanting more from Yunho. But, you're pulled out of your thoughts when Chaery yells your name, begging for you to hurry so everyone could leave.
So, you catch up with your friends, your family; happily holding your flowers on the way out, while Yunho's left here, wondering what to do.
Suddenly feeling like he's alone, like he's missing you even though you've only left him a few seconds ago.
Why the fuck is he feeling this way already?
He shakes it off and leaves, brushing through the people that are still crowding around the front of the auditorium. He has to snake past a few, feeling awkward at the random contact he has to make just to get by—
"Ayo!" He hears a familiar voice call out just as he's made it through the crowd. He stops and turns over his shoulder, spotting Mingi coming towards him. "Dude, I didn't know you were coming."
"Uh, yeah." He gives Mingi a dap. Looking past Mingi's shoulder, he sees Seonghwa and San looking over— probably talking shit about him as they speak. To each their own. Yunho could really care less what Seonghwa thinks about him. He must be livid over you calling it quits, but who else is there to blame for that? He didn't cherish you while he had you, now he feels like he has the right to be upset? He feels like he has the right to be mad at you, at Yunho?
Please.
"Were you here the entire time?" Mingi asks.
"Yeah, I told Y/N I'd come to watch."
"Oh, that's cool." Mingi just nods, but Yunho knows he's thinking about other stuff. Probably his loyalty to Seonghwa, how much he wants to tell him not to pursue you while Seonghwa is sulking. Shit like that. "Yeah, we dropped by to catch their performance too. It was sick."
"Yup, they were great. She did great." Yunho responds, hoping to egg Mingi on in one way or another. If he wants to ask, he should just ask. Lo and behold:
"Cute. So, is that a thing now?"
"Odd question considering Seonghwa has feelings for her." Yunho turns it around on him since, you know, dude tried to talk him out of it the last time they spoke.
"They called it quits. I was assuming it was because of you. Hwa's been all sulky about it." Yunho chuckles a bit hearing the way that it was phrased. They.
"Hm." Yunho hums, no longer wanting to entertain this any further. They could keep guessing all the want, Yunho could really care less about Seonghwa and his feelings. "Anyway, I need to head out. Catch you later?"
"Hop on Valorant tonight!" Mingi easily switches the topic just as Yunho is about to turn on his heel and walk the hell away.
"Maybe. We'll see." Yunho gives him one last nod before walking off to his car. Mingi heads back to his friends, greeting a few more people on the way over. 
"I'll never understand why you're friends with him." Seonghwa furrows his brows at him and shakes his head.
"He's cool people." Mingi shrugs, unsure of how else to respond. Mingi really did enjoy being friends with Yunho. They don't talk too often, and their conversations aren't typically heavy or incredibly insightful, but Mingi likes the good vibes he gets from Yunho. He's genuine and he's real, and Mingi knows that's hard to find over the years. Don't get him wrong; he feels the same with Seonghwa and San. They mainly have more of the same interests as Mingi does, which is why they're stuck to each other like glue. They like partying and going out, they like drinking. Getting into wild shit from time to time. You know how it goes.
Overall, Mingi still respects Yunho, and he finds comfort in their friendship. It's different from the rest.
Yunho's drive home is quiet, but pleasant. OG Heartthrob by Majid Jordan comes up on the rotation, and he finds himself lowly singing along. His thoughts start wandering over to you, smiling a bit to himself like a dumbass when he remembers how happy you looked on stage. How happy you looked seeing him. How happy you looked when he gave you the rose.
You look good happy.
And Yunho loves being the reason you're happy. 
He kinda wishes he could keep being the reason you're happy.
He kinda misses you.
But, he shakes off the thoughts when he pulls into the lot and passes your building. He shouldn't be jumping to conclusions, no. For all he knows, you're probably just being incredibly nice to him, and you're probably still trying to find the right words to let him down easily.
You probably wouldn't feel the same way as him.
Yunho lets out a sigh when he pulls into his usual spot, sitting in the driver's seat for a minute even though the car is set to park. He's so torn about this. Because as much as he wants to say it out loud, he's afraid to.
"How'd it go?" Yunho hears as soon as he steps through the door. To his surprise, it's another night when Yeosang is sitting on the couch, indulging in a show. He's eating some takeout laid out on the coffee table in front of him while Yunho sets his things aside.
"Good. They did really good." 
"I've seen a bit of a performance before. They are pretty good." Yeosang looks over at him as Yunho leans near the patio door, trying to make sense of the show Yeosang has on.
"Mhm."
"How come you aren't hanging out?"
"She's eating with the team and their families. I actually met her mom and sister earlier." Yeosang's eyes widen a bit.
"No shit?" Yeosang smirks. "That's serious."
"What do you mean?" Yunho chuckles confusingly. "People meet family members all the time."
"Yeah, but you know. I always feel like people get introduced if they mean something to the person." Yunho cocks a brow up, listening to Yeosang's reasoning. He can be quite the person, but Yunho does enjoy their conversations when they come up. "She didn't have to introduce you. But, cause you mean something to her, she did."
"Uh, that or maybe just cause her sister noticed the rose I bought her?"
"My guy." Yeosang smiles and shifts topics. "You did it?"
"I wanted to." Yunho shrugs.
"When are you hanging out with her next?"
"She invited me to this little movie night thing they're doing soon."
"Honestly, I say go for it."
"Go for what?"
"Y/N."
"She just ended things with Seonghwa."
"Okay, but that wasn't even considered anything in my very honest opinion. Just a good girl who got wrapped into a dude's schemes. Nothing more, nothing less." Yeosang looks at him. "I think she likes you too."
"I never said—" Yeosang rolls his eyes.
"You didn't have to. I can see it. And by the sounds of it, you seem to make her genuinely happy. She wants you around, she wants to hang out. She enjoys having you around. Don't skip on the chance." Yeosang stands and stretches. "Seonghwa's loss. It's not your problem." Yunho quietly nods.
"Thanks."
"Yup." Yeosang switches the TV off. "Anyway, I gotta finish some stuff before I call it a night."
"Not hopping on League tonight?"
"Nah. For once." Yeosang chuckles and walks off to his room, gently shutting the door behind him. Yunho pushes himself off of the wall and tidies up in the living room a bit before walking into his own room. He really doesn't find himself getting hungry right now, and feels like he could just use this time to be lazy— catch up on a few shows or movies he wanted to watch. He grabs his pajamas and heads to the bathroom to get freshened up and ready for bed, shutting off the lights in the hallway before retreating into his room for the night. He slips himself under the covers, sheets messily pulled up to his chest. He scrolls through his phone, wondering if he should check up on you or let you know that he'll be here watching a movie until you're home.
He doesn't wanna do too much, but he just misses your company. 
You.
Yeosang is right.
He should go for it.
Yunho has given himself enough time to move on and work on himself over the years. In the end, he does wanna be the reason why you smile. He does wanna be the reason why you're happy.
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♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintific @primoppang
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bruhstation · 1 year ago
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assorted 2x3x4 stuff from a few months ago (except the last one! it’s recent! it’s a limbus company AU I’m working on)
also a small life update under the cut
hi! it’s been a while since I last uploaded art or anything cstm-related. the truth is that I’m a college student now! yay! I’m studying to become a doctor too! double yay! I’ve been feeling much at home here rather than at high school to be honest XD and it’s great to have the privacy I desired compared to my dormitory life many months ago. the big city I currently reside in (I’m a country boy lol) also gives me a lot of cool places to visit, cool people to meet. I’ve been doing well, maybe a bit on the mental side? haha, it’s just the first week of uni, so I won’t get way too hopeful, but one’s gotta be optimistic
but with university comes a lot of homeworks!! not as much as in high school, but I get home late and I have to think about lots of things other than homeworks, like cleaning the apartment, cooking, etc. I’ve been busy both with my personal life and my social life in uni. I’m also currently hyperfixated on my ocs and welcome home, and lately I’ve been trying to slow down on drawing too much and avoiding burnout (also some things regarding the ttte community but atp it’s just a long lost memory and I prefer to think about the better stuff).
I have many drawing ideas for casa tidmouth, a few fanfics planned too, but I’m whittling at it all, bit by bit, at a pace I desire. hopefully, I can fully return to bruhstation later and gain my footing again. I love my story, I love my friends here, I love my supporters. I’ll just take my sweet sweet time.
thanks a lot for sticking around!
oh, I’ve also been reading more books. a LOT of them!! I think they’re a good way to expand the way I weave the themes in my story, and they’re so good. demian, the stranger, 1984, wuthering heights, moby dick... do check them out someday!!!
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cokoweee · 9 days ago
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I just had a
✨revelation✨
This is so random and kind of stupid. But I’ve never written fics for any other au or creator and it confused me for a while. Because there’s quite a few I enjoy, but yours are the only ones I’ve attached like a barnacle to.
Aight so I was sitting at my desk being studious and all that, doing some homework for my class tomorrow. And then I looked up and saw a drawing my sister made for me. And it hit me a massive headache
The ~answer~
Your drawing style and storytelling reminds me of my little sisters art. Like a LOT. For a good bit of reasons, the main one being how soft it looks at times and how sharp it is at other times depending on context. I’m wishing I had taken more pictures of her art right now so I could show it off like a proud mom, but I don’t have any of it on me other than what she gave me :(
I’m surprised I didn’t notice the similarities earlier. But anyway, when I was at home she would draw, and I would come up with a story about it. Each of her bigger drawings or wordless comics she’s made, also has a story or background info created by me. We had our own little world and everything. Sometimes we would get my other younger sister join but she wasn’t ever interested so we just dragged our older brother into it. On very rare occasions, all four of my siblings would work together on it. It was a whole thing we all did together
But before I left, she drew me some stuff to hang up in my room. And one of them was Cali. So obviously we made a stupid little story about him. (I don’t remember it, but I know it was just really stupid) ✨And then more ideas were born✨
So uh yeah that’s my little revelation I just had at my desk. You’re the unfortunate soul I’ve been writing fics for because of all that jazz
-embarrassed writing anon who should probably get back to homework and stop sharing random details
Your blog personality reminds me of my little brother tho. he’s a creature
Hmmm. Maybe it’s a younger sibling thing lol. I’m the second youngest of 6 so maybe it’s a weird “younger sibling trait” peeps be talkin bout
No matter how many ya write I be gobblin all you’re stories up like spagetti in a straw
Cool yall had eachother to talk to frfr. I had a stuffed thing I’d talk to under my bed when I was a kid
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aquato-family-circus · 3 months ago
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Interns & Teachers hcs best to worst
Morris obvs we know doesn't wanna trade his mentorship with Milla so they must get along well, or at least he thinks so! I think he really respects and admires her, and wants to impress her. Milla on her part is textually a very good teacher and caregiver so she probably has given Morris a lot to work with to grow and improve. Maybe Morris was even more of a rascal and trouble maker before we met him and Milla taught him to at least put that energy toward something productive. Like Pirate Radio!
I don't USUALLY like going to extra material for things I think are true but the art book says Adam is senior to the other interns which I think implies he actually has spent plenty of time with Truman, rather than the impression the game gives of "none at all hes in a coma, lol".
That being said I imagine their mentorship is on a very professional feeling level. they get along and maybe Truman even tries to be friendly and casual with the boy, but Adam is super focused on being a good student and working on his big historical project. After the mole incicent though maybe he loosens up! He nearly lost the chance to talk to his mentor ever again after all.
Gisu and Otto are super duper casual in contrast to Adam and Truman. Gisu skateboards into his lab, yells WHATS UP TEACH! Otto says something abt his latest project before throwing a wrench at Gisu who catches it mid sick skate flip because Otto just expects her to help with said project in exchange to credits + not having to do homework for a week. They barely talk outside of this bc the agreement is not spoken and just based on vibes and knowing winks.
After the games I think Lizzie swings back to Compton's and he gives her a stern look and a raised eyebrow like you didn't do my assignment? and Lizzies like dude I tried man. and she thinks shes gonna get a lecture but instead Compton's like I'm sorry about that, let's start over, and then they play chess and he wins 3 times in a row. He learns Lizzie likes "weird" and "ugly" animals like bugs and rats and he makes some new assignment about just observing them in the wild, maybe try to talk to them if she can! and reporting back to him. Lizzie still thinks thisis a bit lame but at least she doesnt have to set up a Goat Trap so its an improvement
Sam learns what Coach did at camp and she doesn't do anything actively malicious but she does give him horrible stink eye for like a week. afterwards they go back to getting along surprisingly well aside from all the times Sam says some shit that sounds oddly like a threat but it goes over Oleander's head like half the time.
If Adam and Truman are a good professional vibe, Norma and Hollis are a bit of a stinky professional vibe. Hollis obviously thinks shes a capable young girl, she did let her teach class while she was off meditating about bills. But Norma wants so much more than that and tries so so so hard to impress her even though she ALSO thinks her homework assignment is boring and childish. She goes to Hollis' office like I want a different assignment, with the unspoken want "do not treat her like a child". and Hollis is like oh ok do you want to learn some advanced techniques that come from reading this big dry book of theory as big as your head. and Norma is like well, no. and Hollis is like ok then do your assignment very neutrally and Norma leaves thinking SHE HATES ME!!! bc I think Norma probably has. bad responses to rejection.
Hopefully Norma improves over time though bc I think! I think Hollis could possibly see a lot of potential in her!! She might even see a girl who's impatient, prone to rash decisions, and wants to prove herself so badly, and see herself in her. which is something that's only just occured to me but i enjoy the idea a lot so thats where I'll end this.
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toska-writes · 1 year ago
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Jedi Maul has been on the brainnnnn!
“Jedi Knight Maul AU”
Summary: With the idea of Jedi Maul of course knowing me I had to twist it into a Platonic piece! Enjoy these headcannons of Jedi Maul
Pairing: Jedi!Maul AU x GN padawan!Reader (ofc it’s platonic!)
Warning: ummm none really I can think of!
Word Count: 913 (I didn’t proof read lol)
Notes: since I couldn’t find any fics like this I filled in! I swear I’ll get back to doing requests but with school now fully back I do have a little more to do in my free time, whether I like it or not
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-if anyone ever messed with or talked bad about his commander or men they definitely have another thing coming
-He gives me very protective dad/older brother vibes but only to his little tight knit circle
-And that would include you soon enough
- I definitely think if this certain AU wasn't set in the clone wars Maul would look for a strong willed padawan to pass his teachings too
-HOWEVER do you know how many bad things you would learn from him??? Mostly likely any swear word from any dialect in the entire galaxy. He would give Wolffe a run for his money for the way he would roll his eyes- and don't get me started on how he would totally blow senators off " in the most polite way"
-except of course the nice senators that want the best for everyone including the clones *cough cough Senator Chunchi my beloved*
-and I just keep thinking of this scene where maybe the both of you are talking to the council or maybe some Sith, and Maul would totally make a quip to you or something to ease the tension
-He would want the absolute best and peace of mind when he can't be right with you on the battlefield, because at the beginning he definitely wanted to be
-Maul definitely isn't the type to verbally encourage you, I think he'd be more of an act of services. Whether that be with a blanket and a shoulder to lean on after a hard battle, or helping you clean and wrap a wound if you don't necessarily want to go to the med bay
-Teaching you have to fly is like doing math homework with a parent at the kitchen counter. However after a few more lessons it is definitely a hobby you like doing together even if there is a little banter
-I can imagine on a far away planet while away for a campaign he may or may not sign you up for a pod race just for some extra credits. Would he cheat?... well it's worth it when he sees you fly around the corner with the rest of the troops cheering like mad men
-Meditating is... something else. He knows how hard it is to just sit. And relax, especially in a time of war. But it seems more bearable with someone else for the both of you
-Maul would take lightsaber and dueling technique training very seriously, it's an art form in his eyes and something that he believes he can excel at so of course it's one of the first things the two of you bond over
-He would want to make sure you are prepared for anything, hand to hand, blasters, lightsaber you name it
-Now let’s say something does go wrong and maybe just maybe you get hurt
-One word would be furious, what ever man or creature did that better say their good byes quickly.
-He’s not one to lose his padawan, or hurt by seppies in that matter
-now let’s be honest he’s pretty intimidating and holds a high standard for everything but when the broken little voice of his padawan says they’re scared- his heart is broken into a million pieces.
-that would probably be the only time where he properly brought his voice down to provide some comfort.
-Also can we talk about how dramatic he would be, maybe your sparing and you jab him in the chest.
-he would definitely grab his chest and look at you stunned saying his own padawan is growing before falling to the ground
-two more words: war crimes. I don’t have to explain and I won’t
-there would be so many different competitions among the ranks, kinda like how Anakin and Ahsoka see who can kill the most droids. Something to make the war seem bearable
-Now if anyone ever found out about these last few parts he’d wither away to nothing
-I would say Maul has something against the cold, he doesn’t like snow or being freezing. And so when it comes time for a cold related planet everyone has to know
-the clones would definitely be making different jokes and such but of course behind closed doors, no one wants a cold upset Maul
-however when it comes time for night Mauls CC definitely let’s him bunk with him
-that’s when the clone cuddle piles with the two Jedi really get started
-there’s just something about being absolutely surround by people you know you can properly trust and they trust you to protect them.
-and I’m more than certain the both of you have probably stolen blankets from the clones barracks
-On sleepless nights you both could probably be found talking about the most random shit that had nothing to do with the raging responsibility. Or even in tougher ones with nightmares Maul would most likely put an arm around you and have you fall asleep there
-My boys trying ok. Being a single father to his padawan with a bunch of crazy uncles
-He tries, maybe one day it’s both of you painting your own fighter or tricking it out, maybe it’s another where it’s all intense training and he carries you back to the temple room
-All in all I think Maul would be a fun interesting master to have!
If you want to see this take the form of an actual fic let me know!!!
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