#this is my part of recruiting people for this movie
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guys go watch klass 2007 if you wanna watch a beautiful movie but cry and scream and throw up at the same time
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Iâm starting to hc Miguel as Miguel Rivera (from Coco)âs great grandson.
Itâs mostly because Iâve been doing my family tree for a good while now, so most of my free time is occupied with tracking down Mexican ancestors, looking for resources to better understand the different settings they lived in, reading old Spanish handwritten records, etc. So, with genealogy on the brain, and seeing some names repeated down family linesâŚI think having Miguel OâHara be descended from Miguel Rivera would be a neat lil idea.
Like, imagine little Conchata growing up in Mexico with a famous musician grandfather who loves her and dotes on her and her cousins. Yes, heâs a famous musician, but heâs a family man first and is always ready to pass down stories from his life and his loved ones, dead and living. She loves her grandfather so much she decided to name her firstborn son after him.
She wasnât always the best mom, especially to Miguel, but she passed down those stories and traditions, including singing and a love for music. And Miguel grows up loving to sing, and being good at it but keeping it to himself and Gabriel because George hated to hear it.
Gabriel, on top of being a good artist, is a pretty damn good guitar player and also has a great voice. He mostly keeps it on the down low, though, even in adulthood.
Miguel didnât pick up any instruments, but he sometimes wishes he picked up the violin before he became Spider-Man. Instead, he let Gabriela pick out an instrument she wanted to play, and if she happened to pick the violin, the onions that manifested were a complete coincidence.
Plus, itâs literally canon that Miguel goes to Mexico to celebrate DĂa de Los Muertos and that his suit in the comics was one he wore to the festivals. I think itâs better for that to be a thing he does bc the holiday is a big deal in his family rather than bc itâs an excuse to party or whatever.
His mother had an ofrenda and so does he.
Miguel Rivera is still alive (he was born in like 2005, he could totally still be alive in the 2090s and 2100s, so he is in my hc âşď¸) so Miguel visits him in Mexico, too. Miguel is shy about singing in front of anybody, but his bisabuelo is able to bring him out of his shell, especially by singing his old songs that Miguel grew up listening to.
The more I think about it, the more attached I become to this hc.
Now I want to write a fic where Miguel is visiting a dimension in the 2020s (616B, 1610B, etc) and he happens to see that a young Mexican musician is starting to trend, and itâs his bisabuelo Miguel as a young man 𼚠so he buys tickets and flies to Mexico 𼚠to watch him live 𼚠and yes he knows this isnât his bisabuelo but he is as close as he can get to a young Miguel Rivera at the start of his long and successful career and it just hits him in the soul đĽš
And if Miguel Rivera happens to notice a 6â9â giant at his show, who looks strangely familiar, watching him perform like itâs the best thing heâs ever seen⌠whoâs to say.
#miguel o'hara#miguel rivera#spider man 2099#across the spiderverse#spiderverse#coco 2017#i just think itâs a fun idea#maybe ill create a lil quick family tree for this lol#nothing crazy like my togruta anakin tree#but look man coco is one of my favorite movies and so is spiderverse#if i mix the two together thatâs my business#but now im also thinking about an au where miguel rivera becomes spider man#like maybe he got bit in mexico city while and now needs to balance his superhero life and his super star musician life#and people create conspiracy theories about mexican spider man being the musician miguel rivera#most people donât believe them but it becomes a meme#and miguel just loves the memes even if they do also stress him out lol#anyway imagine he gets recruited to the spider society (part time heâs much to busy to be there often)#and heâs given the low down (multiverse. hq in the future. leader is named miguel oâhara)#and he meets miguel oâhara and is like lol we have the same name are you my grandson or something?#completely joking but miguel just says âgreat grandson actuallyâ#and heâs just flabbergasted lol he was joking he wasnât expecting miguel to actually be his descendant lol#anyway they become bffs đŻââď¸#hasan't
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INTRO !!    â¤ď¸Â ×                        Dialogues Intros .á
Dialogues intros about charactersâ relationships with a gender neutral!reader. Characters chosen are Johnny, Bi-Han, Kenshi and Kitana. Content warning: very slight suggestive theme in 2 dialogues. Thereâs a small bonus angst part for Bi-han but the rest of his dialogues is taking place in a world where he didnât betray his brothers. Please, respond to the poll at the end!
Johnny ! Mirror Dialogues
You: Two of us? There can only be one. You: Yeah, if Johnny see this heâll go nuts.
You: Jo-Johnny?! But how?! You: Hollywood makeup, darling.
Johnny: Letâs be real, Y/n would totally prefer me. Johnny: You got balls to say this as a copycat.
Johnny ! At each other
You: Are you ready to show me off your skills in kombat? Johnny: Real question is, are YOU ready to be impressed by my skills?
You: Just because Iâm your partner doesnât mean I have to watch every of your movies. Johnny: Who said the only thing we were going to do is watch?
You: The model who talked to you, she wanted what? Johnny: Who cares, is someone jealous?
Johnny: Win this, Doll, and Iâll show my biiiig surprise for you. You: Letâs not waste time then, and just show me it now.
Johnny: Iâve got to say, I never went on a date as odd as this one. You: Could you please focus, Johnny.
Johnny: I may be the outlaw, darling. But you're the one stealing my heart. You: From which movie did you steal the line this time?
Johnny ! With other characters
Mileena: How can you have a partner with your pride is beyond me. Johnny: You know how many people wish to be at their place?
You: Why do you want to train with me that much? It has been a week now. Smoke: I just need to work on my technique, and youâre the best fighting partner!
Smoke: I donât think I can hold on much longer, theyâre starting to doubt something. Johnny: Please Smoke, my man, I just need a bit more time.
You: How is working with Johnny? Kenshi: Even the Yakuza didnât make me work that much.
Johnny: Will you accept to be my best man for the wedding if Y/n says yes? Kenshi: It would be an honor.
Scorpion: The Shirai Ryu are in need of members. You: I can advise you Johnnyâs paparazzis, they sneak into your privacy without your knowing.
Liu Kang: Iâm glad to see your heart has open again. Johnny: Iâm thankful for what Cris taught me but Y/n is without a doubt my soulmate.
Kung Lao: How is it like to live in a big celebrityâs house? You: Depends which house are we talking about.
Bi-Han ! Mirror Dialogues
You: Thereâs still a chance of redemption for your Bi-Han. You: Wait, what happened to yours?
You: Bi-Han wouldnât be able to handle two of us. You: Thatâs why there should only be one left.
Sub-Zero: Y/n made you soft. Sub-Zero: Weâll see who is soft when your face meets my cold fist.
Bi-Han ! At each other
You: I donât ask you to abandon your duties, just show that you care for me. Sub-Zero: Everything I do is for the Lin Kuei and you.
You: Do we really need to fight? I wouldnât want to ruin that handso- Sub-Zero: Not in front of the new recruits.
You: Do I really need to train that much? Sub-Zero: I wonât gamble on your life to know the answer.
Sub-Zero: Youâre spending too much time with the actor. You: You know he isnât cooler than you.
Sub-Zero: Youâre not my Y/n. You: Iâm here to stop you before the shadows take over you.
Sub-Zero: How dare you call me with your foolish names in front of the champions?! You: *laughs* Let it go, Bi-Han.
Bi-Han ! With other characters
Kung Lao: Should I go easy on Babi Han? Sub-Zero: Iâll put your head on an ice stake!
Johnny: Seriously, him?! What does he has that I donât? You: Itâs more about what you have that he doesnât.
Raiden: You⌠having a partner. Thatâs quite the amazement. Sub-Zero: And what is that supposed to mean?
Smoke: He didnât even yell this time, how did you pacify him? You: A magician never reveals their secret.
Kitana: I see that this cold heart has finally melt. Sub-Zero: Donât think this made me weak.
Liu Kang: You kept Bi-Han away to deflect towards the wrong path. You: Iâm always looking out for him.
Scorpion: Iâm really happy for you to have found your one, brother. Sub-Zero: With them by my side, the Lin Kuei can only flourish.
You: I am concerned for Bi-Han, do you think heâll stay stable? Geras: This will depend on your actions.
Bi-Han ! Angst part
You: How could I feel a part of the Lin Kuei, when you reject your own brother? Sub-Zero: Tomas wonât be the one to insure the clanâs future.
You: You put more trust in this sorcerer than in me. Sub-Zero: Itâs not about trust, itâs about glory.
Sub-Zero: We could have ruled together. You: Indeed, and you ruined everything.
Scorpion: You were lucky to have found someone like them, and you had to crush their feelings. Sub-Zero: They were lucky I deemed them as worthy.
You: I'm sorry for his words, I'm trying to resonate with him. Smoke: I've stopped caring about what he says a long time ago.
Kenshi ! Mirror Dialogues
You: Do you think if we switch places heâll notice? You: We have to try that!
You: Your Kenshi has lost his sight too? You: This man really should try to protect his eyes better.
Kenshi: My Y/n died in my timeline. Kenshi: And you think Iâll let you this one?
Kenshi ! At each other
You: You may have lost the tournament but youâre the champion of my heart. Kenshi: *laughs* Since when did you become that cheesy?
You: Here comes the man in black. Kenshi: I know you love it when I wear that suit.
You: I wish I could have been here to protect you. Kenshi: You already do a lot for me, and I canât be more grateful.
Kenshi: Wait, itâs not Johnny who told everyone Iâm the best swordsman in Earthrealm? You: Iâm simply sharing my honest opinion.
Kenshi: Donât go easy on me. You: So, just like last night?
Kenshi: I feel like my past with the Yakuza is haunting me again. You: This time, we will fight together against them, mentally or physically.
Kenshi ! With other characters
Johnny: Have you seen the new hottie? Totally would sm- Kenshi: You donât want to finish that sentence.
Kung Lao: So, I conclude it wasnât love at first sight with Kenshi, eh? You: Very funny, Kung Lao.
Johnny: I swear, I didnât know they were your spouse. Kenshi: Hmp.. as if you care for that.
You: Are you sure youâre up to fight? I wouldnât want to match my husband. Mileena: Why, wouldnât that be adorable?
Reiko: Should I steal your magic sword to see how quick youâd die? Kenshi: An angry spouse is deadlier than Sento and believe me, you donât want that.
You: Youâll pay for what you did. Shang Tsung: I wasnât the one to blind your lover.
Ashrah: I can only sense sincerity in your loverâs heart. Kenshi: They have helped me in many ways.
General Shao: Once I find your partner, heâll lose more than his sight. You: Too bad youâll have to pass over my dead body first.
Kitana ! Mirror Dialogues
You: Do you really think Kitana would fall for your tricks, Shang Tsung? You: I just need to make sure Iâm the only one remaining, first.
You: I donât think I want to share Kitana even with another me. You: How strange, I was thinking the same thing.
Kitana: Y/n doesnât exist my timeline. Kitana: I wouldnât be able to imagine a life without them.
Kitana ! At each other
You: How about we go at Madam Boâs after this fight? Kitana: It will be a pleasure to go with you. Iâve heard only great things.
You: Your fighting is just as graceful as your look. Kitana: Flattery will get you nowhere, beloved.
You: How about a double date with Mileena and Tanya after this fight? Kitana: Are you suggesting that I should date my sister and her lover..?
Kitana: I have lost sight of you in the fight against the titans. You: Donât worry, we canât get rid of me that easily.
Kitana: Leading the army can sometime become overwhelming. You: Rest is important even for someone as competent as you.
Kitana: *laughs* Do not fret, my sister does not bite. You: Yes, she does.
Kitana ! With other characters
Mileena: While I respect you if I learn that youâre toying with my sister, Iâll- You: Rip my face apart?
Kitana: Sister, please, trust my judgment on Y/n. Mileena: Iâm just making sure of that.
You: Your daughter is truly a wonder. Sindel: She takes a lot from her mother.
Sindel: Is this lover of yours worthy to be by your side? Kitana: I deem them as so, mother.
Raiden: Iâm really happy for you and the Princess. You: Is that so? Why do I hear disappointment in your voice.
General Shao: Iâll exploit you and your partnerâs weaknesses that is you both. Kitana: You cannot be more wrong, General. We are each otherâs strength.
You: Sorry, Cage. Kitana is off limits. Johnny: Not even a small place for a third person?
Kitana: Should I thank you for putting me with Y/n in this timeline? Liu Kang: I did nothing, it was you both who found each other.
âđŁđđ ��đđ  Please donât copy/translate and donât reblog if youâre a yand3r3 blog/reblog account, or youâll be blocked. Besides that, likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated.Â
#mortal kombat x reader#johnny cage x reader#bi han x reader#sub zero x reader#kenshi x reader#kitana x reader#mk1 x reader#mortal kombat 1 x reader#mortal kombat imagine#mk1 intros#mortal kombat intros#kenshi takahashi x reader#Bi han#johnny cage#kenshi takahashi#kitana
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¤SLY FOX, DUMB BUNNY
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¤Chapter One
á wc: 37k
á fluff, heavy angst, wooyoung x secret agent!reader, slowburn, ???s to lovers, mutual pining, designated codenames for plot purposes
á warnings: heavy violence, usage of weapons, mentions of murder, dark themes in general
á playlist !
á 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 decisionâyou knew it came at a huge cost of needing to detach yourself from those you held connections with in order to ensure they wouldnât 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 wasnât 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 ânormalâ half of your life, was the twist in question. Who wouldâve failed to guess you werenât the only person in the universe who had major secrets to keep? Both you and Wooyoung himself, apparently.
a/n: iâm still on a break but i figured iâd publish this since itâs been sitting on my drafts for weeks lol (your codename is a shortened version of âsylvilagus genus,â a.k.a the scientific term for a cottontail rabbit) this will have a part 2!
Mastering the art of multitasking can be achieved in a vast sea of ways that all differ from one another. One could say watching a movie while finishing homework could count as a valid form of juggling two tasks with one hand. Multitasking could also come in the form of getting ready for a late night out while arguing with your partner through the phone. Some would even argue that opening different computer tabs at once should also be up in the list. Simply put, thereâs no fixed context to itâitâs 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 shopâs owner, and he saw something in you that no one else hadâa 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 technologyâevery 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 worldâs 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 couldnât 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 youâre 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. Youâd 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. âShe had to go out of town to stay with her daughter because this library doesnât provide enough money for her to pay rent,â 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, âBefore 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.â You could still picture the way his eyes sparkled with surprise and delight as he gasped, âReally?â 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 didnât visit the library. There was something comforting about his regular appearances, a sense of normalcy in your otherwise dual life.
âHey, Wooyoung. Itâs been a while,â you greeted him with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee.
Wooyoung walked towards the registrar, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. âYeah, Iâve been pretty busy these days.â
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. âItâs nice to have you back.â
âReally? I was beginning to think you were growing tired of seeing my face every day,â he joked lightly, eliciting a muffled, short laugh from you.
âI beg to differ. If anything, a shift at work doesnât quite make it to the shelf of good days unless you pay the library a visit,â you said, diverting your attention from the computer to the books he had placed on the counter. âThe History of Art?â
âThought Iâd check out something new,â he shrugged, causing the loose collar of his knitted sweater to slip off his shoulder a little.
âAlways exploring, arenât you?â you remarked, scanning the books into the system. âDid anything in particular catch your interest in art history?â
He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. âYou could say Iâm looking for inspiration.â
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. âInspiration for what?â Wooyoung leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. âThatâs a secret.â
You chuckled, shaking your head. âAlright, keep your secrets. Just make sure to return the books on time.â
âI always do,â he replied, flashing you a playful wink.
As Wooyoung made his way to his usual spot by the window, you couldnât 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 occasionsâlike right now. It was one of those fascinating nuances that kept you intrigued by him. There were many layers to Wooyoungâs 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 werenât 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 didnât have his number, didnât 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 didnât seem wise. Because of that, you often had to remind yourself that you werenât just a mere librarian. Your nights were filled with missions and dangers that he couldnât 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 werenât willing to take.
Sometimes, as you watched him immerse himself in a new book or share a light-hearted joke, you couldnât 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 wereâconnected in the library, yet worlds apart outside of it.
While youâre busy working, your invisible in-ear deviceâdesigned solely for your organization to contact you and deliver news without blowing your coverâbeeps. A voice mail from one of the higher-ups begins to play. âAgent Sylvil, this is Director Han. Thereâs 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.â
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 canât 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 canât 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 hadnât 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. Heâs 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 canât 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, âIdentity verified. Welcome, Agent Sylvil.â 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.
âAgent Sylvil,â she begins, âthank you for coming on such short notice.â You take a seat, maintaining a neutral expression as she starts to brief you on a new rising threat hidden in the shadows. âOur security patrol has reported the appearance of a new thief on the scene.â
You shift slightly in your seat, intrigued but careful to remain composed. âSo far, weâve managed to gather only a few pieces of information,â Director Han says, her tone grim. âThis thief is a young man, around your age, and has been given the codename âCrimson Foxâ as a patrol member had described him to us as a stealthy, cunning being. Despite our best efforts, weâve been unable to track him or gather any substantial intel, which is highly unusual for our operations.â
Your curiosity is piqued now. âAnd what makes him so different from the others weâve dealt with?â 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 âThe Midnight Watch.â
âWhat about this?â you inquired, needing further context as to why she was showing you this painting in particular.
âBased on the analysis made by Director Kang, the Crimson Fox is most likely eyeing this artifact as his target,â she continues, âand because of this, weâre assigning you the mission to capture the Crimson Fox and prevent him from getting his hands on this artifact at all costs.â
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. âIt says here that this painting does not hold any significant form of value,â you point out, turning to Director Han. âShouldnât this mission be passed down to an agent of a lower rank?â
âDo not question your duties,â 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.
âWell, we cannot pass this down to a less experienced agent because the Crimson Fox is not like any of the thieves youâve encountered before. His methods are untraceable,â she admits. âHe leaves no clues behind. Our tech team has been working around the clock to find any digital footprints, but so far, theyâve come up empty-handed. His skills are... unprecedented.â
You nod slowly, processing the information. âHence why you believe Iâm the best person for this mission?â you ask, needing to hear it from her directly.
Director Hanâs gaze is intense as she looks at you. âPrecisely. If you complete this mission successfully, you will be promoted to a higher-up position. If you fail, the consequences wonât fall solely on youâbut rather on the entire organization. A professional criminal on the loose is unacceptable.â
She pauses for a moment, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. âWe 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.â
You take a deep breath. âI understand,â you say firmly. âIâll do whatever it takes to bring him in.â
Director Han nods approvingly. âGood. Weâve gathered all the intel we could on the Crimson Fox, although itâs not much. Youâll find the files in your personal database. Study them thoroughly. We need you to be ready for anything.â She taps a few buttons on the console, and the screen shifts to display a detailed map of the Crimson Foxâs recent sightings. âThese are the sites of his recent activities. Notice the pattern?â
You squint at the map, recognizing the strategic positioning of each move of his. âHeâs traveling in a circle, gradually tightening the radius around... here,â you point to a central location.
âPrecisely,â the Director confirms. âThatâs why we need to act fast before he gets his hands on The Midnight Watch.â
You rise from your seat, nodding at Director Han with a firm gaze. âConsider it done.â
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 bodyâs 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 suitâs 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, youâre 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 maskâs 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. Itâs 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 suitâs 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 itâs 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 stridesâit 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. Itâs not every day you encounter a thief as skilled as he isâitâs 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 suitâs 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 otherâs limits. You leap into the air, aiming to tackle him, but heâs quick, instantly jumping to another spot, leaving you to land where he had just been.
âYouâre pretty good, huh?â he says, his voice deep and sultry. âToo bad youâre not good enough.â
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 museumâs 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 suitâs 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 bootsâ 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 youâre 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. âYouâre not getting away from me,â you state, your voice firm.
His lips curve into a smirk beneath his mask. âWeâll see about that.â
In a flurry of motion, the fight resumes. Heâs 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.
âIs that all youâve got, Agent?â 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.
âAww, come on, donât be so cold,â he continues, his tone dripping with sarcasm. âI thought we were having fun.â
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.
âNot bad,â he admits, still smirking. âYouâll have to do better than that, though.â
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.
âYouâre pretty impressive,â he breathes, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. âBut letâs see how youâll turn this in your favor.â
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.
âYou think a little smoke will stop me?â you call out, your voice steady despite the irritation in your throat.
âOh, I donât expect it to stop you,â his voice echoes back, sly and teasing. âJust slow you down.â
You focus, listening intently. Through the smoke, you catch a faint outline of his figure. You dart forward, aiming for where you think heâll 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. âGetting tired?â he mocks, his breath hot against your ear as he tries to grapple you. âHardly,â 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 heâs 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 heâs planning his next move. You brace yourself, ready for whatever trick he has up his sleeve. He lunges again, but this time youâre 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.
âSeems your little organization knew what they were doing when they decided to send you to catch me,â he says, genuinely this time, his voice breathless but still edged with that mocking tone. âA pity that you wonât be able to succeed, though.â
He reaches for another device, but youâre 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 isnât 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.
âSee ya.â
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. âAgent 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 Hanâs assessment was accurate; this mission requires precise and advanced handling.â
Finishing the recording, you send the message. Then, you sit on the rooftop, reflecting on the nightâs events. Itâs your first encounter with the Crimson Fox, but given his swift escape, you know it definitely wonât 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 canât deny the spark of excitement it ignited. Itâs 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-airâhe 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 youâve experienced his capabilities firsthand, youâre 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 youâre 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. âGood evening,â you begin, your voice calm and composed. âThank you for convening on such short notice and understanding the urgency of the matter at hand.â
Director Han nods, her eyes fixed on you. âAgent Sylvil, please proceed with your report.â
You activate the holographic projector in the center of the table, which springs to life with a 3D representation of the museum. âAs per the mission parameters, I infiltrated the museum housing The Midnight Watch. The Crimson Fox, as predicted, made an appearance.â
The directors listen with utmost attention, their faces a mix of curiosity and concern. âWhat were his methods?â Director Kang asks, his brow furrowed.
âImpressive,â you admit. âHe bypassed the security lasers with an ease that suggests extensive training. His movements were calculated, almost as if he anticipated every countermeasure in place.â You replay a section of the surveillance footage, highlighting the Crimson Foxâs agility and precision as he evades the laser beams.
Director Liu interjects, âWhat can you tell us about his physical capabilities?â
âExceptional reflexes and strength,â you reply. âDuring 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.â
You take a deep breath, ready to recount the encounter with precision. âThe 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.â
The directors lean in, listening intently. âHe 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.â
You pause, replaying the vivid memories in your mind. âWe exchanged a series of blowsâpunches, 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 doesnât adhere to a single discipline, which kept me on my toes.â
Director Han nods, gesturing for you to continue. âWhat about his defensive maneuvers?â she pushes further while spinning a pen in her hand, trying to ground the feeling of being on edge consuming her.
âHeâs incredibly adaptive,â you explain. âWhen 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.â
Director Kang interjects, âAnd how did you manage to gain the upper hand?â
âI capitalized on his momentary lapse in focus,â you reply. âAfter a particularly aggressive exchange, he hesitated for a fraction of a secondâperhaps 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 thatâs when I thought I had him.â
You pause, the memory still fresh. âBut heâs resourceful. Before I could press my advantage, he reached into his belt and pulled out a small deviceâa 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.â
The directors furrow their brows as you continue. âThe 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.â
You lean forward, emphasizing the intensity of the moment. âHe 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.â
Director Liu looks concerned. âAnd you were fighting blind?â
âEssentially, yes,â you confirm. âBut 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.â
âAt 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,â you conclude.
Director Kang speaks up, âHis use of the smoke bomb indicates he was prepared for a prolonged fight. This suggests he knew he might encounter resistance and planned accordingly.â
âIndeed,â you agree. âHis preparation and adaptability make him a formidable opponent. Heâs not just skilled in combat but also in tactical evasion. This was not a random act of theftâheâs calculated and strategic in his approach.â
Director Han taps her fingers on the table thoughtfully. âWhat about his demeanor? Any psychological insights?â
You pause, recalling the encounter. âMocking 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 ânot good enoughâ and even threw a decoy object to distract me while he made his escape.â
Director Kang leans back in his chair, contemplating. âSo, heâs not just skilled but also psychologically manipulative. This makes him a more dangerous adversary.â
âAgreed,â you nod. âHe managed to secure The Midnight Watch and evade capture. His confidence suggests he has faced numerous challenges and emerged victorious.â
Director Liu turns to you, her expression serious. âAgent Sylvil, how do you propose we proceed?â
You take a deep breath. âGiven 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.â
The directors nod, absorbing your suggestions. Director Han speaks up, âWeâll allocate additional resources to this mission. Itâs clear that the Crimson Fox is not an ordinary thief.â
Director Kang adds, âWe should also consider the possibility of a mole within our ranks. His knowledge of the museumâs security was too precise to be a coincidence.â
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. âAgent Sylvil, this mission is now your top priority. We trust your expertise and judgment to bring the Crimson Fox to justice.â
You straighten your posture, a sense of determination filling you. âUnderstood. I will not let him slip through our fingers again.â
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 expertsâ 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. âAgent Sylvil,â Dr. Yoo greets you with a nod, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of the urgency you must feel. âWhat brings you here?â
âDr. Yoo,â you begin, âI need your teamâs help. The Crimson Fox is unlike any adversary weâve faced. His skills are exceptional, and our current surveillance capabilities arenât enough. I need enhancements in surveillance tech, innovative traps, and some upgrades to my suit and weaponry.â
Dr. Yooâs eyes gleam with interest. âAh, yes. Director Han had informed me of your mission beforehand. Surveillance enhancements, you say? We can certainly help with that.â She leads you to a workstation where several screens display live feeds from various parts of the city. âWeâve been developing a new type of droneâsilent, 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.â
She types a few commands, and a small, sleek drone materializes on a platform beside her. âWe call it the âGhost Falcon.â It can relay real-time data back to your wrist device, providing you with constant updates on the targetâs location and movements.â
âNext, for trapping mechanisms,â Dr. Yoo continues, walking over to another section of the lab, âwe'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.â
She gestures to a table where various gadgets are laid out. âThese 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.â
âNow, letâs talk about your suit.â Dr. Yoo pulls up a holographic model of your current suit, spinning it in the air with a swipe. âI propose we upgrade your suit with enhanced platingâlightweight but incredibly strong, along with new functions.â
She points to the wrist section of the hologram. âWeâll 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.â
âAnd for weaponry,â Dr. Yoo says, moving to a locked cabinet, âwe have some new additions. Hereâs a high-frequency stun baton, designed to incapacitate without permanent damage. It has an extendable reach, allowing you to engage from a safe distance.â
She unlocks the cabinet, revealing a sleek, compact crossbow. âThis is a micro-crossbow, firing tranquilizer darts with pinpoint accuracy. Itâs silent and effective, perfect for stealth operations.â
You straighten yourself, feeling a renewed sense of readiness. âThank you, Dr. Yoo. These upgrades will make a significant difference.â
Dr. Yoo nods, her expression serious. âWeâre all counting on you, Agent Sylvil. Catching the Crimson Fox is crucial.â
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 dayâs 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 cityâs 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 dayâs 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 Hanâs 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 enhancementsâall 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 demeanorâit 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 actionsâit 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. Itâs 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 âThe Midnight Watchâ? The painting, while appearing to be valuable, seemed an unusual choice for such a high-profile thief.
His confidence, his playful demeanorâthere 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 couldnât 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 smirkâthey all replay in your mind as you drift off to sleep.
â
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 youâre 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 youâre finished, you head to the door to flip the sign from âClosedâ to âOpen,â 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 libraryâs 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.
âHey there.â
You tear your eyes away from the computer screen and manage a small smile upon recognizing the speaker. âOh, hey, Wooyoung.â His presence is a welcome distraction, and you notice the book he places on the counterââThe History of Art,â the same one he borrowed before.
âFinished reading it already? Youâre pretty fast,â 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.
âYep. Desperate times call for desperate measures,â Wooyoung replies, leaning casually against the counter, pulling down the sleeves of his hoodie slightlyâwhy does he always choose to wear such items of clothing despite the blazing weather?
You chuckle softly. âThis book must have been really useful for you, huh?â You glance at the computer screen as the system confirms the bookâs return, then move to type in some additional notes.
For a moment, thereâs a comfortable silence between you, filled only by the clicking of your keyboard. You can feel Wooyoungâs gaze on you, and although itâs not directly in your line of sight, his attention is palpable. Keeping your eyes on the computer, you address the unspoken question. âIs something the matter?â
âOh, uh,â he clears his throat, seeming slightly flustered. âI just... you look pretty tired?â
Your eyebrows lift in surprise at his comment, and you tilt your head curiously. âDo I?â 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. âHuh.â
Wooyoung shifts slightly, his concern genuine despite his earlier teasing tone. âYeah, just a bit. Rough night?â
You nod slightly, placing the mirror back in the drawer. âYou could say that. Just some work stuff keeping me up.â
He offers a sympathetic smile. âWell, donât push yourself too hard. You need rest too, you know.â
You smile back, appreciating his concern. âThanks, Wooyoung. Iâll try to take it easy.â
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.
âSo, are you borrowing anything new today?â you ask, shifting the topic back to the libraryâs purpose.
He seems to snap out of his thoughts and grins. âActually, yes. I was thinking of diving into something different this time. Any recommendations?â
You stand, gesturing for him to follow you. âSure, letâs see what we can find.â As you walk through the aisles, you turn to Wooyoung, genuinely curious about his reading preferences. Heâs 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.
âOh, Iâm sorry, are you okay?â Your eyebrows shoot up in concern, and just as youâre about to hold your hand forward to touch his chest, you quickly retract it, realizing you might make him uncomfortable. It seems as if youâre both on the same page, as he immediately took a step back.
âDonât mind it,â he waves you off. âWere you gonna ask me something?â 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.
âI was gonna ask if thereâs any topic or genre youâre particularly interested in lately?â You tilt your head as you wait for his answer, eager to find the perfect recommendations for him.
Wooyoung scratches his chin thoughtfully. âActually, Iâve been fascinated by the history of rare and valuable artifacts recently. Especially those from ancient civilizations.â
You raise an eyebrow in surprise. Itâs a rather specific and intriguing interest. âOh, great choice. Iâve got a few recommendations for that.â 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 âLost Treasures of the Ancient Worldâ and handing it to him. âThis one covers a variety of artifacts from different civilizations, including their historical significance and the stories behind their discoveries,â you explain, flipping through the pages to show him illustrations of ancient relics.
Wooyoungâs eyes light up with interest as he examines the pages. âWow, look at this!â he whisper-shouts, pointing to a detailed map of archaeological sites. âI didnât realize there were so many different ancient civilizations with their own treasures.â
You nod, smiling. âThis book also discusses how these treasures were unearthed and the challenges faced by archaeologists.â
âThat must be an adventure in itself,â Wooyoung remarks with a grin. âImagine digging up an ancient tomb and finding treasures untouched for thousands of years.â
You proceed to pull out another book from the shelves, titled âThe Secrets of Ancient Egypt: From Pharaohs to Treasure Hunters.â You lend him the book, explaining its coverage soon after. âThis delves into the world of Egyptian artifacts, their mystical significance, and the pharaohs who were entombed with them.â
Wooyoungâs gaze is fixed on a page depicting hieroglyphics. âEgyptian mythology sure is fascinating,â he muses, tracing the symbols with his finger. âItâs like a window into a world where gods and mortals coexisted.â
You smile, enjoying his enthusiasm. âI canât say I donât agree. The mysteries of the pyramids and the rituals surrounding mummification are endlessly captivating.â
As you reach for âThe Tools of the Ancients: Craftsmanship and Innovation,â you explain, âThis book explores the tools and techniques used by ancient civilizations to create these masterpieces.â You show him illustrations of ancient tools and artifacts, discussing their ingenious designs.
Wooyoungâs curiosity is piqued. âYou know, things like this always makes me wonder how they achieved such precision without modern technology,â he muses, examining the diagrams closely. âTheir craftsmanship was truly ahead of its time.â
As you discuss each book, you canât 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.
âHave you always been interested in ancient artifacts?â You turn to him, genuinely curious about his newfound passion.
He smiles, setting down the last book. âNot always,â he admits with a chuckle. âBut recently, Iâve found myself drawn to the stories behind these artifacts. Theyâre like puzzle pieces that unlock secrets from the past.â
You nod in agreement. âItâs incredible how each artifact has its own story to tell, connecting us to our ancestors and their way of life. Itâs like uncovering hidden secrets from a forgotten world.â
The moment lingers, a shared understanding passing between you as you find yourself staring into his eyes perhaps a little longer than youâre supposed to. But then you blink, breaking the spell, and turn back to the books. âWell, I think youâre all set with these,â you say warmly, gesturing to the stack heâs accumulated. âI hope you find them as fascinating as I do.â
âIâm sure I will,â he replies sincerely. âThanks again for your help. I really appreciate it.â
âItâs my pleasure,â you say, smiling warmly. âLet me know if you need anything else,â 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 youâre engrossed in your work, your invisible in-ear monitor suddenly beeps softly, indicating a new voicemail. Dr. Yooâs voice then comes through clearly, though only you can hear it. âAgent Sylvil, the tech team has successfully infiltrated the security cameras around the city. Weâre now gathering all available footage of the Crimson Fox. Iâll update you with any significant findings as soon as we have them. Stay alert and be ready to move at a momentâs notice.â
When the message finishes, you find yourself lost in thought, momentarily blanking out while keeping your eyes on your computerâs screen. The usual hum of the library fades into the background as you process Dr. Yooâs 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 Foxâs elusive nature and your recent encounter with him make you skeptical. Given how vigilant he was, it's safe to assume heâs 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. Heâs 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 canât help but wonder about his next move. What artifact will he target next? Whatâs 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. âExcuse me, can you help me find this book for my project?â he asks, nervously fiddling with the paper in his hands.
âOf course,â you reply with a warm smile, taking the paper from him. âLetâs see what you need.â 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 cityâs 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 childrenâs 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 itâs 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 youâre 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 cityâs 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. âAgent Sylvil,â she greets you with a nod.
âDr. Yoo,â you respond. âAny updates on the surveillance cameras?â
âFollow me,â 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. âUnfortunately, he was only caught on this camera, and it was just for a millisecond.â You lean in closer, studying the footage. The image is fleeting, barely a blur of movement. âImpressive,â you murmur, noting how he managed to evade capture on almost every camera.
Dr. Yoo nods. âWe did, however, identify a pattern. The footage indicates heâs frequenting an area known for housing valuable artifacts. Weâre cross-referencing his movements with known high-value targets in the vicinity.â
You consider this information, thinking back to his skill and precision during your last encounter. âGood work,â you say. âLetâs focus on that area. Enhance surveillance and see if we can predict his next move.â
Dr. Yoo agrees, already making notes. âWeâll get on it right away. Iâll keep you updated with any new developments.â
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 heâs 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. âDidnât think Iâd see you again so soon. Missed me?â His voice is mocking, yet thereâs a hint of admiration beneath the bravado.
âDoes it ever dawn to you how infuriating you are?â you reply, tightening your grip on his neck. âAnd to answer your question, not particularlyâbut I do intend to make sure Iâm the last thing youâll remember before you get knocked out.â
His eyes gleam with amusement even as he struggles to breathe. âConfident, arenât you? Letâs see if you can back it up.â
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. Heâs up as well, a sly smile on his lips as he brushes himself off.
âYouâre quick, Iâll give you that,â he says, circling you warily.
âAnd youâre annoyingly persistent,â you retort, matching his movements.
He shrugs nonchalantly. âItâs a gift.â
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.
âIs that all you can give me, Agent?â he taunts, recovering quickly.
âIt wouldnât be, had you been given a dead or alive bounty hanging over your head,â 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.
âI think you just donât want to hurt me,â he whispers in your ear from behind, attempting to strangle you, but youâre quicker than the speed of light to duck down and sweep him off his feet.
âDonât flatter yourself. Iâd gladly leave nothing of you but your blood on the floor if you werenât so important.â 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 otherâs moves with uncanny accuracy.
âYou know, youâre making this more fun than I expected,â he admits, dodging a particularly vicious punch.
âDo you ever stop talking? Iâm not here for your entertainment,â you snap, delivering a powerful kick that he barely deflects.
âCouldâve fooled me,â he says, grinning. The fight intensifies, each of you pushing your limits. The Crimson Foxâs 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.
âI wasnât expecting you to strike so soon, honestly,â he admits, dodging a high kick aimed at his head. âArenât agents like you supposed to prioritize patience and analysis over rash actions?â
You block his punch and counter with a swift jab to his ribs, your expression stoic. âYou donât know anything about me.â
He laughs, sidestepping your next attack. âA bit touchy, arenât we? Donât you think that attitude is a bit unethical for a top secret agentââ
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 donât give him a moment to recover, immediately gripping the collar of his suit to bring him close to you. âProject your stereotypes onto me one more time and Iâll knock your teeth so far down your throat youâll be flossing with your intestines.â
He shakes his head, a wry smile forming on his lips as he straightens up and pushes you off of him. âYouâre something else, arenât you?â
You donât respond, focusing instead on your next move. He feints to the left, and youâre ready, delivering a kick that he barely dodges. Heâs finding you more than just a worthy adversary; heâs genuinely intrigued.
âMost people would be intimidated by now,â 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. âMost people arenât me.â
He chuckles, clearly amused. âYeah?â
The two of you continue your fierce exchange, the night air filled with the sounds of your combat. Heâs fast, but youâre 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 youâve honed over the years. He matches you move for move, but you sense a shiftâheâs beginning to tire, and youâre 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.
âYou think youâve got me pinned, donât you?â he grunts, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and frustration. âBut this game isnât over until I say it is.â
âYouâre not calling the shots here. I am,â you reply, your voice a steely whisper. The sight of blood seeping from beneath his mask and dripping onto the ground doesnât faze you.
âYouâre just as relentless as they say, arenât you? Always chasing, never stopping to think,â he continues, trying to get under your skin.
âSave your breath,â you say, pressing down harder. âYouâll need it for when youâre behind bars.â
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. Itâs clear he didnât 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.
âThis isnât over,â you state, your voice low and stoic, eyes filled with a fiery gaze.
He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. âSure hope it isnât.â 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 wouldnât be a bad thing in different circumstances, but the catch is that youâre 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 rightâthis was a rash decision. You acted on instinct, driven by the desire to catch him before he could commit another theft. But itâs 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.
â
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.
âAgent,â she says curtly, âreport to headquarters immediately. There are important matters we need to discuss.â 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 youâre 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. âWhatâs the matter?â
Director Kang taps a button at the center of the table, projecting a holographic screen that shows a millisecond of footageâof you, running away, caught by the surveillance camera where you fought the Crimson Fox.
âWhatâs this?â Director Kang asks, though his tone implies he already knows the answer.
âItâs exactly what it looks like,â you reply, crossing your arms.
Director Liu joins in, her voice cold. âDo you not understand the gravity of your actions? What you did was a blatant violation of protocol. I believe you arenât aware of the gravity of your actions.â
You suppress a groan. Seriously?
âThen enlighten me, Director,â you deadpan, maintaining a stoic facade despite your sarcasm.
Director Kang leans forward, steepling his fingers. âOur handbook clearly states in Section 4, Paragraph 12, that âagents must obtain explicit authorization from a superior before engaging in field operations.â You acted independently, without orders.â
Director Liu chimes in, âThis isnât just a minor infraction. Itâs a severe breach of our protocol. You compromised the integrity of our operations.â
Director Han adds, âFollowing 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.â
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. âForgive me if I appear hostile,â you state, trying to keep your voice even, âbut I donât see the problem at all. If I hadnât acted, the Crimson Fox would have another artifact within his grasp right now.â
Director Hanâs eyes narrow. âItâs not about the result, Agent. Itâs about the process. You broke the rules, and that cannot be tolerated.â
âI 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.â
Director Liu shakes her head. âThis isnât about instincts. Itâs about discipline and order. We have protocols for a reason.â
âAnd you have agents for a reason. What did those protocols achieve last night, exactly?â you retort. âA near loss of a valuable artifact. My actions, though unorthodox, were effective. I stopped him. I gained information. Is that not what weâre here to do?â
Director Kang leans forward, his expression stern. âThis is not a debate, Agent. You acted outside your authority, and thatâs unacceptable.â
You meet his gaze without flinching. âWhatâs unacceptable is prioritizing rules over results. Weâre 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.â 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. âWe understand your perspective, but there will be consequences for your actions. We cannot have agents acting on their own accord.â
You nod, accepting the inevitable. âUnderstood, Director. But I stand by what I did. And given the chance, Iâd do it again.â
Leaving the meeting room, you feel a mix of relief and lingering defiance. Maybe the Crimson Fox was rightâthis was a rash decision. But itâs 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 canât 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 didnât 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 youâd 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 âPirate King,â 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 werenât supposed to start your day so early. The âmeetingâ 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 itâs 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 dayâs tasks ahead. But for now, in this small moment of peace, you allow yourself to drift off, letting go of the morningâs 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 âClosedâ sign to âOpenâ before returning to the registrar. You begin your work, and although you feel a bit lighter, the frustration from the morning lingers.
You donât 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. âGood morning, how can I help you today?â
The patron asks for help finding a specific book, and you guide them to the correct aisle, making small talk along the way. Once theyâre 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 patronsâit all helps keep your mind off the morningâs events, but the underlying frustration still simmers.
Hours pass, and itâs now near evening. The libraryâs 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 hasnât 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. Wooyoungâs 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 riverâa place youâve 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 directorsâ âpunishmentâ 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 crewâs daring quest for the âEndless Aurora.â The stress from earlier begins to melt away with each turn of the page. The vivid descriptions of pirate adventures and the protagonistâs 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 youâre getting engrossed in a specific part of the story where the Captain Ahranâs crew, the Black Phoenix, encounters the mysterious Sea Witch who holds a key to the âEndless Aurora,â a familiar voice speaks up from behind the bench.
âPirate King, huh?â
Before you even turn your head, a small smile forms on your faceâyou know exactly who it is.
âHey, Wooyoung,â you greet him, moving your bag to the other side of the bench and patting the now free spot beside you. Heâs 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.
âOh, this? Just a little accident while helping my uncle with some construction work. Nothing to worry about, really,â he says with a grin that suggests heâs more proud of the minor injury than concerned.
You donât pry further. âSo, you know Pirate King?â you ask instead, and he enthusiastically nods his head.
âYeah! That oneâs actually one of the very first books I read when I first started visiting the library, back when you werenât working there yet,â he explains, a fond expression on his face.
You pick up the book from your lap, examining itâit does look pretty worn. âItâs one of the old books, huh? Makes sense.â You hum, placing it back on your lap. âDo you have a thing for fantasy books?â 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, heâs always imagined what his life would be like if he were a fantasy character.
âWhat did you want to be back then?â you push further, genuinely curious.
He leans back, a dreamy look in his eyes. âJust like the characters, Iâve always wanted to be a pirate, going on adventures, sailing the seas, hunting for treasures,â he shares with enthusiasm.
You chuckle, imagining a young Wooyoung running around, pretending to be a pirate. âWhat was your âfantasy nameâ?â you ask.
His eyes gleam with excitement as he responds. âCaptain Stormbreaker! I imagined myself as this legendary pirate, feared and respected across all the seas. My ship was called the Tempestâs Fury, and my crew was the best there ever was. Weâd find hidden treasures, outsmart rival pirates, and face mythical sea monsters.â
You laugh, enjoying the vivid picture he paints. âCaptain Stormbreaker, huh? That sounds pretty impressive. Did you have a backstory for him?â
Wooyoung nods eagerly. âOf 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 worldâs greatest treasures. Every adventure was a step closer to finding his true destiny.â
You smile, feeling your stress melt away as you listen to his animated storytelling. âYouâve really thought this through, havenât you?â
âAbsolutely,â he says with a wide grin. âIt was my favorite daydream growing up. And who knows, maybe one day Iâll find a way to make it a reality, even if itâs just in spirit.â
You nod, touched by his infectious enthusiasm. âWell, Captain Stormbreaker, Iâm honored to be in your presence. Maybe one day, youâll have to take me on one of your adventures.â
He laughs, a twinkle in his eye. âDeal. And who knows, maybe you have a hidden pirate persona too?â
You chuckle, the idea intriguing you. âMaybe. Weâll see.â
He pursues the idea, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. âNow that weâre at it, have you ever thought of having a pirate persona or a fantasy persona in general?â
You smile, touched by his boundless imagination. He seems like such a free spirit, and thereâs a sense of freedom within him that you canât help but admire. âIâve never really thought of it,â you say with a shrug, playing along. âBut now that you mention it, Iâm quite curiousâwhat persona would you construct for me, if given the chance?â
Wooyoungâs face lights up with excitement. âOh, thatâs easy! Youâd be the enigmatic âCaptain Shadowstrikeââa 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.â
You laugh softly, the name and description fitting surprisingly well. âCaptain Shadowstrike, huh? I like the sound of that. Tell me more.â 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. âCaptain Shadowstrike was once part of a royal navy but turned rogue after discovering corruption within the ranks. Youâd 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.â
âAnd what would be my mission?â You lean forward, placing your palm flat down on the cold surface of the wooden bench, genuinely curious now.
âTo uncover the lost city of Seloria,â Wooyoung says without hesitation. âLegend has it that Seloria holds treasures beyond imagination and secrets that could change the world. But itâs also guarded by ancient traps and mythical creatures, making it the ultimate challenge for any pirate.â
You raise an eyebrow, impressed by the depth of his story. âSounds like quite an adventure. And what about you? Would Captain Stormbreaker and Captain Shadowstrike be allies or rivals?â
He grins, the playful glint in his eyes returning. âDefinitely allies. Weâd join forces to take on the biggest challenges and split the treasures. Imagine the legends that would be told about our exploits!â
You nod, feeling a sense of a new depth within your connection with Wooyoung brimming. âWell, Captain Stormbreaker, it looks like we make a formidable team.â
Wooyoungâs smile is infectious. âTwo pirates teaming up to cause havoc catered to their own liking, call that Bonnie and Clyde in a different universe.â
He then shifts the conversation once both your laughters die down, a question thatâs been on his mind for the past few minutes now surfacing. âWhat brings you here, anyway?â he asks with genuine curiosity.
You let out a soft sigh, looking towards the river, where the moonâs dim light shone in its reflection. âToday didnât exactly go well.â You shrug, pursing your lips.
A look of concern flashes in his eyes, but he tries to lighten the mood. âProbably a good idea I didnât stop by the library today then. I mightâve made your day worse with my endless nagging.â
Although you know heâs joking, you shake your head and look him in the eyes. âI was waiting for you to show up, actually.â
He blinks, momentarily taken aback. âReally? You were?â
You nod, feeling a bit vulnerable but honest. âYeah. Your energy is contagious. It would have been nice to have a distraction from everything that happened.â
Wooyoungâs expression softens, and he leans back on the bench, a thoughtful look crossing his face. âIâm glad I ran into you here, then. If I can help distract you from a bad day, thatâs the least I can do.â
You smile at his sincerity. âYou always seem to lift my spirits, Wooyoungâand oftentimes, youâre blissfully unaware of it. Itâs one of your many talents.â
He grins, his usual playful demeanor returning. âWell, if cheering you up means talking about pirate adventures and imagining ourselves as legendary captains, then Iâm more than happy to oblige.â 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, âDo you have any favorite character from Pirate King in particular?â
Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking to the book and then back to you. âI do, but I might drop a few spoiler bombs here and there. Are you sure you want to hear about it?â He asks, looking a bit sheepish.
You wave him off with a smile. âI donât mind at all. Iâd be more than happy to listen to you. Go ahead.â
Relieved, Wooyoungâs eyes light up, and he shifts excitedly on the bench. âWell, my favorite is definitely Captain Arahn! Heâs the best character in the entire series for me,â he says, enthusiasm bubbling over. âI mean, first off, heâs the youngest captain to ever sail the seas, and heâs got this whole rebellious yet noble vibe going on. Heâs 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!â
He continues, gesturing animatedly. âAnd his backstory! Itâs so tragic yet inspiring. Losing his family at a young age and then rising from nothing to become the most feared and respected pirate captainâitâs just so compelling. Plus, his relationship with his crew is amazing. Heâs not just their leader; heâs their friend and confidant. The way he treats everyone with respect and values their opinions, itâs no wonder theyâre so loyal to him.â
You canât help but smile as Wooyoung geeks out, his passion infectious. âAnd donât get me started on his combat skills! Heâs 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.â
Wooyoung pauses for breath, his eyes sparkling. âAnd then thereâs his softer side, the way he cares for the less fortunate and always fights for justice, even though heâs labeled an outlaw. That one scene where he saves the village from the corrupt governor really shows his true character. Heâs the perfect mix of tough and tender, which makes him so relatable and admirable.â
You find yourself in a trance, a fond expression on your face as you listen to him with full attention. Wooyoungâs 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.
âAnd the symbolism!â Wooyoung continues, his voice lowering a bit as he leans closer. âCaptain Arahnâs ship, The Phoenix, represents rebirth and resilience. Every time it seems like theyâre done for, they rise from the ashes stronger than before. Itâs 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 futureâthose are some of my favorite parts. They add so much depth to his character.â
He finally stops, a little out of breath, and looks at you with a wide smile. âSorry, I get carried away when I talk about Pirate King. Itâs just such an incredible story.â
You shake your head, your smile warm and genuine. âNo, no. Thereâs nothing to apologize for. I love hearing you talk about it. Your passion is infectious, and itâs clear how much Captain Arahn means to you. Itâs nice.â
Wooyoung beams, looking pleased and slightly bashful. âThanks. Iâm glad I could share it with you.â
As the night progresses, you find yourself lost in conversation with Wooyoung, his infectious energy gradually lifting the weight off your shoulders. It isnât until he pauses, a wide smile on his face as you laugh, that you realize how much better you feel.
âIs there something on my face?â you ask, reaching for the small mirror in your bag. Before you can open it, Wooyoung gently grabs your wrist, shaking his head.
âNo, itâs just... happiness looks good on you.â
His words catch you off guard, sending a warm, unexpected surge through your veins somewhere deep in the confines of your soul. Speechless, you donât 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 onânot just for the tough days, but for the good ones, too.
â
You find yourself seated in the austere meeting room once again, facing the stern visages of the director board. Theyâve called an urgent meeting to discuss the latest developments regarding the Crimson Fox. Apparently, theyâve managed to gather some critical intel: his next target is known. The artifact in question is an ancient, seemingly mundane itemâan 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. âDo we have any information on why the Crimson Fox has chosen this particular artifact as his next target?â
Director Han meets your gaze but offers no satisfying answer. âWe donât have any specific details on his motives,â she says curtly, avoiding your eyes.
You frown, sensing thereâs more to this than theyâre letting on. âAnd 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.â
The room falls silent, tension palpable in the air. Director Kang clears his throat and begins his explanation. âThis compass,â he starts, holding up an image of the artifact on the holographic display, âis 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 weâve dealt with, its historical and strategic importance cannot be overstated.â
He taps the display, and a series of documents and old maps appear. âThe compass was reputedly used during Zheng Heâs 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.â
He continues, âThe compass itself doesnât just represent historical significance; itâs believed to contain a mapâhidden within its constructionâthat leads to one of Zheng Heâs 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.â
Director Liu interjects, her tone serious. âWe have reason to believe that the Crimson Fox has discovered this secret. His previous heistsâseemingly randomâwere actually part of a pattern leading him to this very compass. Heâs pieced together enough of the puzzle to make this his next target.â
Their explanations raise more questions than it answers, but you decide to press on. âBut why the urgency? Youâre saying time is running outâwhat exactly do you mean by that?â
Director Kangâs gaze sharpens, his tone growing more insistent. âThe Crimson Fox is planning to strike tonight. Weâve 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.â
You blink, taken aback. âBackup? Why now, of all times? Why do you think I need assistance?â
Director Han interjects with a vague, non-committal answer. âItâs to ensure your safety. The stakes are higher with this artifact, and we canât afford to let him succeed.â
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. âAlright, whatâs the plan for tonight?â
Director Kang leans forward, his fingers steepled. âWe 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 weâve 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.â
Director Liu adds, âWeâve 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.â
You nod, absorbing the information. The pressure is palpable, but you steel yourself for the task ahead. âUnderstood. Iâll be ready.â
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 arenât they telling you? As you head out of the headquarters, you decide to put these questions aside for now. Thereâs 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 headquartersâ high-tech training room, ensuring youâll 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 youâre in peak condition for the mission ahead. Satisfied with your preparations, you decide to call it a day and head to the headquartersâ 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.
âYeosang,â 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 withâyour 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 youâll lose them, and you donât 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 themâsomehow, 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 donât want him to be harmed by that.
âHeard they were sending backup with you for your mission later,â he muses, and you immediately groan softly in response.
âDonât remind me. It wouldâve been better if you were one of the agents they assigned to accompany meâor if they hadnât decided to send backup my way at all,â you slump your shoulders. Itâs not that you donât want to work with others, but you have a tendency of being hard-headed and reckless when youâre on the scene, and you know youâll hardly be able to protect anyone that comes along with you for the danger you attract. Itâs not that you hate your fellow agentsâyou just donât want to drag them into the different level of danger youâre standing in compared to them.
âI still donât get why they refuse to assign us to missions together.â He sighs, leaning back on the couch. âYou tell me,â you deadpan, shrugging.
âHowâs the cat-and-mouse game with the Crimson Fox going, anyway?â 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 havenât been able to hang out as much. Agents were also strictly forbidden to spend time together outside of their jobsâwhich you think is a very weird ruleâso you always make sure to make the most out of moments like this with Yeosang.
âItâs been... complicated,â you admit. âThe Crimson Fox is slippery, always a step ahead. But it appears we finally have a solid lead on his next target,â you cut your words off momentarily to lean closer, whispering in his ear, âthe boardâs acting a little shady about it, though.â
Yeosang listens intently as you describe the old compass and the boardâs intense focus on it. âThat does sound strange,â he agrees. âWhy would they be so concerned about a seemingly worthless artifact?â
You shake your head. âThatâs the mystery. Thereâs something about this compass theyâre not telling me. It feels like thereâs a bigger picture Iâm missing.â
Yeosang frowns, deep in thought. âBe careful out there. If theyâre sending backup, it means theyâre expecting something significant.â
You nod, appreciating his concern. âI will. Thanks, Yeosang. Iâll try to keep you updated, even if itâs just through official channels.â
Just then, the speakers installed throughout the headquarters ring, and Director Hanâs voice booms through them. âAgent Sylvil. Your presence is needed in the meeting room immediately.â
Sighing, you turn to Yeosang, lips pursed. âWell, I guess itâs time.â
He pats your shoulder, giving you an encouraging smile. âTake care out there. Youâve got this.â 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. âAgents, tonightâs mission is critical. The Crimson Foxâs target is the ancient compass, and we cannot allow him to acquire it. Hereâs 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.â
She pauses, looking around the room to ensure everyone is following. âOur 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.â
Director Han then turns to you. âAgent, your role is crucial. Youâll 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?â
No one speaks up, the air thick with anticipation. âAlright then. Gear up and move out.â
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, youâre 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.
âOh, wow,â he drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm. âAn entire squad just for little old me? Iâm flattered.â He pauses, his gaze flicking around the room. âBut whereâs my favorite nemesis? Why didnât they send her alone instead? Surely that would be more worth my time.â
The agents glance around, noticing your absence. Their in-ear monitors beep, and your voice comes through. âIâll be in the shadows to strike when he least expects it. Keep your guard up at all timesâthis is no ordinary thief youâre facing.â
The Crimson Fox notices the change in their demeanor, even without seeing the monitors. A wicked smile spreads across his face. âSo sheâs here, huh? Good. This should be interesting.â
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. âGive up. Thereâs no way out of this.â
The Crimson Fox laughs, a low, menacing sound. âOh, I think Iâll manage.â 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.
âAurora, tighten formation.â you command, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. âUtopia, flank him from the sides.â 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.
âIs this the best you can do?â he taunts, delivering a spinning back kick to Agent Parkâs midsection, sending him sprawling. âDonât disappoint me now.â
âAurora, regroup near the crates,â you order, directing them to a safer position. "Utopia, heâs heading your way.â
âGot it!â 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 Foxâs 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.
âCome on, you can do better than this!â he jeers, dodging a punch and retaliating with a swift elbow to the jaw. âWhereâs your spirit, your drive? Did you leave it at home?â
You watch the scene unfold, your mind racing. âAgent Kim, heâs heading for the northwest corner. Cut him off.â
âOn it!â 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.
âAre you watching this?â he calls out to you, his voice dripping with derision. âIs this really the best your precious organization can offer?â
Your hands tighten into fists. âUtopia, distract him from the front. Aurora, prepare to flank.â 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.
âNice try,â he sneers, catching Agent Park's arm and twisting it painfully. âBut youâll need more than that to catch me.â
Agent Park lunges forward, attempting to tackle the Crimson Fox, but he sidesteps smoothly, delivering a knee to his stomach. âToo slow!â he laughs, throwing him aside.
âUtopia, hit him from the left,â 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. âPredictable,â he mutters, his gaze flicking upwards. âCome on, Agent. I know youâre out there.â
You grit your teeth, knowing you have to stay hidden for now. âAurora, push him towards the back wall. Utopia, be ready to cut him off.â 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. âInteresting strategy,â he muses, blocking a punch from Agent Kim and countering with a sharp elbow to the ribs. âBut it wonât work.â
Agent Kim regains his footing, charging at the Crimson Fox. âWeâve got you now!â
The Crimson Fox smirks, catching his arm and flipping him over his shoulder with effortless strength. âDo you, though?â 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 heâs trying to provoke you. âHold your positions,â you instruct the agents. âHeâs trying to bait us.â
Agent Kim narrows his eyes, his breathing heavy but determined. âWe wonât let you win, Crimson Fox.â
The Crimson Fox chuckles, his eyes gleaming with amusement. âOh, I already have.â He moves with blinding speed, taking down another agent with a swift combination of strikes. âAnd you know it.â
The fight continues, the agents growing weary but refusing to back down. The Crimson Fox remains relentless, his taunts never ceasing. âYou should have stayed home,â he sneers, delivering a powerful kick to Agent Parkâs chest. âThis was a losing battle from the start.â
You watch, frustration boiling within you. âAurora, fall back to the east side. Utopia, cover them.â The agents regroup, their resolve unwavering despite their injuries. They reposition, trying to find an opening, but the Crimson Foxâs defenses are impenetrable.
âWhy do you fight for them?â he questions, his voice a mocking whisper as he catches Agent Kim's fist and twists it painfully. âDo you really believe in their cause?â
Agent Kim grits his teeth, refusing to yield. âWe fight for justice.â
The Crimson Fox laughs, a cold, hollow sound. âJustice? How quaint.â He releases Kim with a shove, turning his attention to the others. âYou are all pawns in a game you have yet to know of.â
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. âWhatâs the plan, Agent? Are you going to save them at the last minute?â
You remain silent, watching from your vantage point on the ceiling, waiting for the perfect opportunity. The Crimson Foxâs eyes narrow, sensing the tension in the air. âWell? I'm waiting.â
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 Parkâs 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.
âThese are the agents that are supposed to take me down?â 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 doesnât give him a chance to recover, following up with a series of rapid punches that leave him dazed and bleeding.
âStay together,â you command through the comms, your voice tense. âDonât let him isolate you.â
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 heâs 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.
âPathetic,â the Crimson Fox sneers, glancing around at the fallen agents. âYou should have brought more.â
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 doesnât get up this time.
âWhenâs your leader planning on coming out?" the Crimson Fox calls out, his voice echoing through the warehouse. âOr does she want to just stay in the shadows and let you all crumble?â
You watch helplessly as Agent after Agent falls. The Crimson Foxâs taunts grow more vicious, each victory fueling his arrogance. âThis is almost too easy. Do you really think you can stop me?â
Agent Kim manages to land a glancing blow to his jaw, but the Crimson Foxâs 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.
âAurora, pull backââ 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.
âCome on, Agent,â he mocks, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. âAre you just going to let them die?â
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. âIs that it?â
You feel a surge of anger and frustration. The agents lie scattered around the warehouse, unconscious and severely wounded. The Crimson Foxâs eyes scan the room, searching for you.
âI know youâre here,â he says, a wicked smile spreading across his face. âCome out, come out, wherever you are.â
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.
âFinally decided to join the party, did you?â he taunts, turning to face you, a gleam of surprise and annoyance in his eyes.
You donât respond, keeping your focus solely on him. The weight of the fallen agents presses on you, fueling your determination. âThis ends now,â you say, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
The Crimson Fox laughs, a cold, mocking sound. âI donât think so.â
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.
âCanât you do any better?â you taunt, pressing your advantage.
The Crimson Fox regains his footing, a cruel smile spreading across his face. âYou think youâre special because you knocked me back a bit?â he sneers. âYour friends didnât fare so well.â
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 confidenceâyou have the upper hand. But as the fight drags on, his words start to seep into your mind.
âLook at them,â he says, gesturing to the fallen agents. âAll of them thought they could beat me. They thought you would save them.â
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.
âYouâre so dedicated to your job,â the Crimson Fox continues, dodging your next strike with ease. âSo dedicated you sacrificed their lives to get it done. Youâre making it more obvious that you want to catch me not because you have to, but because thatâs the only thing thatâll reassure you that youâre still good enough.â
âShut up,â you growl, trying to regain your focus. But the words sting, hitting closer to home than you'd like to admit.
âYou let them fight me without your aid, thinking they could handle it. Look at where they are nowâbroken and bleeding because of your arrogance.â
His relentless taunting chips away at your concentration. The memory of your fallen comradesâ 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.
âYou think you can handle this on your own? Pathetic. They were counting on you, and you failed them.â
âOpen that mouth of yours one more and Iâll make sure youâll have no voice to speak for you by the end of the night,â you say through ragged breaths, but the doubt in your voice is unmistakable. He doesnât listen to you, choosing to continue driving you on edge. âYou were their last hope, and you let them down.â He laughs, his voice a poisonous whisper.
âYou let them die.â
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. âNo,â you whisper, but itâs 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.
âLook whoâs awake,â he says, his voice dripping with mockery. âComfortable?â
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 itâs 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. âOh, donât give me that look.â He rolls his eyes. âYou brought this upon yourself.â
You glare at him, your eyes burning with defiance. He scoffs, clearly entertained by your futile struggle. âYou thought you could catch me, didnât you?â he says, shaking his head. âSuch arrogance. Did you really think you were good enough for that?â He stands up, pacing around you. âYou know, I was expecting more from you. Iâve heard so much about your skills and your dedication. But now that Iâm seeing you like this... I canât say Iâm not disappointed.â
You try to shout something, but the gag turns your words into unintelligible noise. The Crimson Fox laughs, clearly enjoying your helplessness. âHmm? Whatâs that? Trying to say something?â He leans in closer, his voice a whisper. âYou look so vulnerable right now. So weak. It's almost... endearing.â
He steps back, tilting his head as he looks at you. âTell me something,â he says, his tone more thoughtful now. âHave you ever doubted your cause? Ever wondered if the side youâre fighting for is truly the right one?â
You frown, trying to understand his angle. He chuckles softly. âAh, I see it in your eyes. That flicker of doubt. Youâve always been so dedicated to your job, so sure of your purpose. But have you ever stopped to question it?â
He starts speaking in riddles, his words twisting and turning. âNot everything is as it seems. Sometimes, the lines between right and wrong blur. Heroes and villains, theyâre often two sides of the same coin. Havenât you ever considered that?â
Your eyes narrow, and he smirks. âYou think youâre fighting for justice, for the greater good. But what if the very people you work for are hiding the truth from you? What if youâre just a piece of a bigger puzzle?â
He crouches down again, closer this time. âYou see, theyâre not as noble as you think. They have secrets, dark ones. And youâre blindly following their orders, thinking youâre making a difference. But are you?â
His words worm their way into your mind, sowing seeds of doubt. âYouâre dedicated, Iâll give you that. But dedication without question, without understanding, is just another form of blindness.â
âThink about it. Reflect on your cause,â 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. âBecause sometimes, the world is not always as it seems.â
As the gag falls away, heâs back to taunting you. âSo, Agent, feeling a bit more talkative now?â 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. Heâs taken aback for a moment, wiping it off with a disgusted sneer. But then he scoffs, a dark laugh bubbling up from his chest.
âFeisty, arenât we?â he says, clearly amused. âI admire your spirit. Itâs a shame itâs so misdirected.â
âYou think tying me up proves anything?â you retort, eyes burning with anger. âIt just shows how terrified you are of facing me head-on.â
He chuckles, clearly enjoying the banter. âTerrified? No, no. Iâm just smart. Smarter than your entire organization, it seems.â
âYou hide behind tricks and deception,â you snap. âReal strength doesnât need such cowardice.â
He wipes the remaining blood from his face, looking at you with a mix of admiration and disdain. âReal strength? Like the strength your agents showed? Oh, wait, theyâre all unconscious.â
You grit your teeth, the sight of your fallen comrades still fresh in your mind. âYou wonât get away with this. You think this is over?â you challenge, keeping your voice firm despite your resolve crumbling. âThis is just the beginning. I will hunt you down, no matter where you hide.â
He smirks, clearly entertained by your defiance. âBig 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 youâre really fighting for? Youâve always claimed youâre fighting for⌠justice,â he mocks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. âAnd yet, your âjusticeâ left your comrades bleeding and broken.â
âThey knew the risks,â you reply, refusing to let him see any doubt. âWe all did. And weâre willing to pay the price to stop you.â
"Such dedication," he muses, almost to himself. âHavenât you ever wondered if youâre fighting for the right side?â
You narrow your eyes, refusing to let his words shake you. âSave your philosophical musings for someone who cares. I know whatâs right, and itâs not you.â
âWeâll see,â he says, standing up straight and looking down at you. âWeâll see how long that conviction lasts.â
He leans in closer, his voice a low whisper. âRemember, Agent, the truth is often hidden in plain sight. Keep your eyes open.â
He leaps out of the window by the roof of the warehouse, a mocking farewell echoing back to you. As soon as heâs 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 suitâs 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 itâs only working now, after the Crimson Fox left, could only mean one thingâhe 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 Hanâs voice comes through, urgent and tense.
âAgent, the Crimson Fox knew of our plan beforehand. He managed to shut down all cameras so we couldnât supervise you and your team.â
You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling up. âDirector Han, I need immediate assistance at the warehouse. My fellow agents are severely wounded.â
âYes, I can see you from the camera in the separate room youâre in,â Director Han responds. âWeâre mobilizing a team now. Hang tight.â
âPrioritize the agents first,â you urge, your voice firm despite the pain. âThey need medical attention immediately. I can manage, but they can't.â
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. âWhatâs the status of the other agents?â
âTheyâre injured but stable. The medics are with them now,â one of the agents informs you.
âGood. Hurry up and cut these ropes. They need help more than I do,â you command, your tone brooking no argument. As soon as youâre free from the ropesâ 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. âGo back to the others and prioritize their care,â 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. âThatâs an order,â you state firmly. âNow go.â
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. Theyâre 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. Youâre supposed to be their shield, their leader. And you had failed.
Back at headquarters, youâre 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 itâs futile. Director Liuâs sharp call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts, and you clear your throat, mumbling an apology. She then begins the debriefing. âWhen 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.â
Youâre supposed to feel relieved, to have the weight lifted off your shoulders, but instead, a sense of doubt and suspicion creeps in. Why didnât 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.
âWas it worth it?â
The directors turn to you, confusion etched on their faces. âWhat do you mean?â Director Kang asks.
âWas it worth sacrificing the lives of our agents for an artifact?â Your words hang in the air, heavy with accusation. Youâre not only targeting them but also yourselfâyour recklessness, your selfishness.
Director Kang chuckles awkwardly, attempting to lighten the mood. âThis is exactly what agents are for. They take risks for justice, for the greater good.â
âThey didnât want to nearly die, though, did they?â you retort, your eyes fixed on the table. Not because youâre afraid of meeting their gaze, but because you donât want to see your reflection in their eyesâthe reflection of a fool, of failure. âYou know the risks imposed by the Crimson Fox, I know themâbut those agents you sent? They didnât. They didnât 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 yourselfâIâm the only person capable of handling this mission. And yet you sent them anyway.â
Director Han brushes you off, her tone dismissive. âI donât quite understand why youâre being so emotional. This is unlikely coming from you, Agent. If youâre so concerned about them, then why didnât you do your best to protect them? They wouldnât 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 thatâs the only thing that matters. Youâre dismissed.â
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, âGiven the circumstances, itâs highly unlikely that the Crimson Fox will strike again anytime soon. For now, the mission will be put on hold.â
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 nightâs failure. A tear slips down your cheek as you tear your gaze away and continue walking.
This was exactly your biggest fear. You didnât mind being sent on dangerous missions, didnât mind losing a limb for what it was worth, didnât mind dying by the hands of a criminalâbut 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 werenât 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 heâs 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 canât even muster the strength to go to your bedroom. The moment you close your houseâs 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 comradesâall 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 shouldnât have sent those agents to begin with, but you shouldâve thought more rationally, too. The words the Crimson Fox spat rang endlessly in your mind.
âYou think youâre fighting for justice, for the greater good. But what if the people you work for are hiding the truth from you? What if youâre just a pawn in their game? You see, theyâre not as noble as you think. They have secrets, dark ones. And youâre blindly following their orders, thinking youâre making a difference. But are you?â
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 transparencyâall of it began to form a troubling picture. The directors didnât 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.
âYou know, I was expecting more from you. Iâve heard so much about your skills, your dedication. But now that I see you like this... Iâm disappointed.â
Disappointed.
Were you really worth holding your title if you couldnât 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 alongâuntil 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 youâve 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?
â
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 hadnât visited the library since the night of the mission to stop the Crimson Fox from getting his hands on the compassâthe 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 hadnât he come to see you? Was he thinking about you, too? You were so lost in thought that you didnât notice the patron gently tugging the sleeve of your blouse.
âExcuse me, miss. Could you tell me more about this book?â the patron asked, holding up a novel.
You blinked, bringing yourself back to the present. âOh, Iâm sorry,â you said, clearing your throat. You began explaining the bookâs 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 didnât know how long you had been standing there until a familiar voice broke through your haze.
âOh, there you are! I was wondering where youââ Wooyoungâs 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. âHey, are you okay?â
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. âItâs okay, itâs okay, alright?â he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your shattered spirit. âIâm here. Just let it out.â
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 didnât 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 werenât 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. âIâm sorry.â
Wooyoung blinked, clearly puzzled by your apology. âHey, no, donât say that. You have nothing to apologize for,â he said gently, but you waved him off before he could continue.
âI didnât mean to just suddenly have an outburst like that,â you explained, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.
âItâs normal,â he reassured you, his tone soothing. âItâs okay to let it out. It happens to everyone.â He paused, gauging your reaction. When he saw that you werenât ready to dwell on your breakdown any further, he quickly shifted the conversation, his next statement catching you off guard.
âI think roadman vampires would be pretty sick.â
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. âSorry, what?â you asked, incredulous.
âI mean, think about it,â Wooyoung continued, undeterred. âPicture me this: youâre walking down the street, right? Itâs dark, a bit sketchy. Suddenly, this roadman vampire rolls up on you, tracksuit and all, but instead of asking for drugs or some cash, heâs like, âBruv, spare us a pint of your blood?ââ
You stared at him, still trying to process the bizarre turn the conversation had taken. âAre you serious right now? What, like, âOi mate, got any O negative?ââ
"Yeah! And instead of carrying knives, they carry little blood bags strapped to their beltsâand their hoodies have those fake vampire teeth printed on them. âBloodsuckerâ written in bold letters across their backs.â
You couldnât help but be caught off guard. The mental image he painted was so ridiculous that you found yourself struggling to hold back a laugh. âNo, seriously! Imagine the street lingo mixed with vampire lore. âIâll suck ya blood, famâ becomes their catchphrase.â
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.
âWhat do you think?â he urges, insistent on pushing further with his agenda.
âI think youâve officially lost your mind,â you said between giggles, shaking your head. Silence engulfs both of youâa 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.
âI missed you.â
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.
âI mean, itâs just, you know, you have this infectious enthusiasm andââ
âYou did?â Wooyoung interrupted softly, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and hope. âYou missed me?â
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. âI... I did,â you admitted quietly, unable to look away from him.
A smile slowly spread across Wooyoung's face, softening his features. âWell, tell you what, I missed you too,â he confessed, his voice gentle. âIt felt strange not having you around.â
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.
âYou did? Like, really, really did?â you echoed his words, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of playful skepticism.
Wooyoung chuckled, his smile widening. âYeah, I really, really did.â
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 hadnât felt in a while. âYou know,â Wooyoung continued, his tone light but sincere, âyouâre an amazing person. Strong, dedicated, caring. You might not always see yourself that way, but trust me when I say thatâs how you look in my eyes.â
You blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected praise. âYou think so?â You tilt your head.
âKnow so.â
He then continued, âAnd, you know, if you ever need someone to distract you by reading the entire Hotel Transylvania script in roadman slang, Iâm your guy.â
âYouâre my guy?â you teased, unable to resist poking fun at Wooyoung's unintentional slip.
âI mean, um, you know, for when youâre going through a tough time or just want to hang out. Not in that way, or, like, I mean, if youââ Wooyoung stumbled over his words, cheeks flushing slightly.
You cut him off with a laugh. âI know what you mean, Woo. I was just messing around.â The nickname slipped out effortlessly, and you didnât 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. âWhere are you going?â
You smiled amusedly at him. âYou know Iâm the librarian here, right?â
Wooyoung chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. âOh, yeah, yeah, right.â
Before you could head back to your station at the registrar, you turned back to him. âThanks for making me feel better, Wooyoung.â
As you started to walk away, Wooyoung stood up abruptly, catching up to you. âWait.â He gently grabbed your wrist, and you turned to him with a surprised look. âYeah?â
He stumbled over his words for a moment before blurting out, âI 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.â
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. âAre you asking me out on a date?â
The joke was meant to lighten the mood, but as Wooyoung shyly chuckled, your eyes widened in slight surprise. He was.
âItâs okay if you donâtââ
âIâd love to, Woo,â you interrupted, your smile growing wider at the genuine delight on his face.
âReally? I mean, cool, cool. Yeah, cool,â 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, Wooyoungâs 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. âI can handle it,â you said with a smile.
He looked at you, his eyes warm. âI know you can, but I want to help.â
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 hadnât expected. As the two of you walked down the quiet street, you couldn't help but ask, âSo, where are you taking me?â
Wooyoungâs eyes sparkled with mischief. âThatâs a surprise. Just trust me.â
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.
âSo, this is why youâre all dressed up, huh?â you teased, a hint of a smile on your lips.
He looked slightly bashful but met your gaze with a grin. âWell, I had to make a good impression.â
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. âAh, what a lovely couple! Please, follow me to your table,â 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. âSo, you reserved a table for the lovely couple, huh?â
Wooyoung quickly waved his hands defensively. âI swear, I didnât tell him we were a couple or anything like that!â
You laughed, shaking your head. âRelax, Woo. Iâm just playing around.â
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.
âOh, 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,â he said, his eyes twinkling with the memory. âIt 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.â
âSounds like you had a great time,â you said, feeling more relaxed as you listened to his stories.
âI really did! Enough about me, though,â Wooyoung said suddenly, leaning forward. âI want to know more about you.â
You blinked, a bit taken aback. âHuh?â
âYou know so much about me, but I know almost nothing about you,â he pointed out, his expression earnest.
It struck you that he was right. âYou... want to know more about... me?â
âWhy wouldnât I?â he asked, smiling warmly.
You hesitated for a moment, considering how to navigate this without revealing too much. âWell, thereâs not much to tell. Iâve always been more of a listener than a talker,â you began cautiously.
He tilted his head, encouraging you to continue. âCome on, there has to be something. Hobbies? Favorite books? Something youâve always wanted to do?â
You began pondering, trying to gather your thoughts. âWell, letâs see... I guess Iâve always been a bit of a bookworm. I love getting lost in stories, exploring different worlds, and seeing life from different perspectives. Thatâs partly why I enjoy working at the library so much. Itâs like being surrounded by endless possibilities.â
Wooyoung nodded, his eyes fixed on you with genuine interest. âI can totally see that. You always seem so at home there, like itâs your sanctuary.â
âIt really is,â you agreed with a small smile. âI find comfort in its silence, the smell of books, and the sense of order. Itâs a nice contrast to how chaotic life can get sometimes.â
âDo you have a favorite book?â Wooyoung asked, leaning in slightly.
You thought for a moment, a smile forming on your lips. âItâs hard to pick just one, but if I had to choose, it would probably be âPride and Prejudiceâ by Jane Austen. I love the wit and intelligence of the characters, and the way the story critiques social norms.â
Wooyoungâs eyes lit up with interest. âThatâs a great choice. Iâve heard a lot about it, but Iâve never actually read it. What do you like most about it?â
âItâs so many things,â you began, your excitement growing. âThe main character, Elizabeth Bennet, is such a strong, independent woman, especially for her time. Sheâs smart, witty, and not afraid to speak her mind. And Mr. Darcy, well, heâs complex. At first, he seems arrogant and aloof, but as the story progresses, you see that heâs 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. Itâs not just a love story; itâs about personal growth and overcoming prejudices. Oh, not to mention, Elizabethâs my favorite character from the book, too.â
Wooyoung pressed on further, his interest piqued. âWhat specifically draws you to her?â
âSheâs such a remarkable character,â you said, your voice taking on a more reflective tone. âElizabeth is not just intelligent and witty; sheâs also incredibly perceptive and resilient. She navigates the rigid social structures of her time with a kind of grace and strength thatâs really inspiring. She doesnât let society dictate her choices, especially when it comes to marriage, which was a huge deal back then.â
Wooyoung nodded, clearly engrossed. âShe sounds like someone worth admiring.â
âShe really is,â you agreed. âWhat 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. Itâs a humbling journey that makes her all the more relatable and admirable.â
âYou see a lot of yourself in her, donât you?â Wooyoung said, a gentle understanding in his eyes.
You paused, feeling a wave of vulnerability. âYeah, I do. Elizabethâs 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.â
Wooyoungâs smile was warm and encouraging. âI think youâve got a lot of that strength already. Itâs clear just from talking to you.â
âThanks,â you said, feeling a rush of gratitude. âItâs nice to talk about these things with someone who genuinely listens.â
âIâm really glad you shared that with me,â he said softly. âI can see why Elizabeth Bennet is your favorite. Youâre really passionate about this book,â Wooyoung observed, his smile widening.
âI guess I am,â you admitted with a laugh. âIâve 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. Itâs brilliant.â
âMaybe I should give it a read sometime.â He stared above the ceiling and back into your eyes, a genuine haze wrapping itself around his eyes.
âYou should,â you encouraged. âItâs more than just a romance novel. Itâs a commentary on society, class, and the human condition. And itâs so well-written. Her use of irony and satire is masterful.â
âYouâve convinced me,â Wooyoung replied with a grin. âIâll start reading that someday in the near future.â
âI think youâll really enjoy it,â you said, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction. âAnd if you ever want to discuss it, Iâm always here.â
âDeal,â he said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. âIâm looking forward to it.â
As the conversation progressed, you found yourself opening up more and more. Wooyoungâs 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.
âYou know, itâs really nice getting to know you like this,â Wooyoung said after a while. âYouâre even more interesting than I already knew you were.â
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. âItâs nice getting to know you too.â
As the date continued, you found yourself increasingly caught up in Wooyoungâs 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 beautifulâhe 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. Youâd 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.
â
For the next few days, your life began to take on a new rhythm. Mornings once filled with solitude were now punctuated by Wooyoungâs 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 youâre 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 heâd 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. âYou canât start your day on an empty stomach,â 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 Wooyoungâs 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.
âDid you spend your break time to its fullest?â 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.
âI did,â you replied, keeping your voice steady and professional.
âGood,â she continued. âBecause from now on, no distractions shall be allowed to enter your line of sight.â
You narrowed your eyes, sensing the gravity of what was to come. âWhy is that?â Your eyebrows furrowed lightly.
Director Liu stepped forward, her expression grim. âThe Crimson Fox has his eyes on a new artifact,â she said, her voice laden with significance. âAnd this mystical property is of utmost importance. Its value surpasses anything he has targeted before.â
You crossed your arms, skepticism evident in your posture. âMystical properties? Are we basing our mission on legends now?â you began, your voice rising with incredulity. âForgive me, Director, but you have to admit, this sounds like a wild goose chase. First, itâs an old painting, then a compass, and now this? Why are we placing such high value on what seem to be random artifacts?â
Director Liuâs expression remained stoic, but you pressed on. âYouâre coming off as suspiciously secretive. Thereâs a lack of transparency here, and Iâm not comfortable with it. If thereâs something about this artifact thatâs critical, I need to know. Otherwise, I canât accept this mission.â
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.
âThe artifact in question is not just a relic. Itâs a key component in a much larger puzzle, one that weâve 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.â
You considered his words, your mind racing. âAnd you expect the Crimson Fox to know this? To understand its true value?â
Director Han nodded. âHeâs always been one step ahead, understanding the deeper connections between these items. We believe he has access to information that we do not.â
You sighed, the pieces slowly falling into place. âAlright, but if you want me to risk my life for this, I need full disclosure. No more secrets.â
Director Liuâs eyes softened slightly. âYou have our word. Weâll provide you with all the information we have.â
With that assurance, you shifted gears. âWhat are the risks involved in this mission?â
Director Kangâs expression grew serious. âThe 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. Thereâs also the risk of collateral damage. We canât afford another incident like the last mission.â
You nodded, the memory of the previous mission's failure still fresh. âAnd youâre not planning on accompanying me with other agents again, are you? You know what happened last time.â
Director Han shook her head. âNo. This time, youâll be going alone. We canât risk another failure.â
You hummed in thought. Well, at least theyâre aware of the damage they caused. âIâll do whatever it takes to stop him.â
Director Hanâs smile was approving. âThatâs the spirit we need. Now, letâs discuss the specifics.â Then, they began to outline the details of the operation, and you listened intently, asking pointed questions and clarifying key points.
âThe artifact is housed in the Armitage Museum,â Director Kang started. âItâs a high-security facility with several layers of defense. Surveillance cameras, motion detectors, laser grids, and a rotating guard schedule.â
You leaned forward, absorbing the information. âWhat about the artifactâs location within the museum? Is it in a display case or a secured vault?â
âItâs in a secured vault in the basement,â Director Liu replied. âThe vault itself has a biometric lock system, requiring both fingerprint and retinal scans.â
âWhose biometrics?â you asked, your mind already working on possible infiltration methods. âThe museum director and head of security,â Director Han answered. âWe have gathered some intel on their schedules, but gaining access to them will be tricky.â
âHow exactly do you expect me to bypass all these security measures?â you questioned, your tone sharp. âAnd what about backup plans in case things go south?â
âWe have a tech team working on a device to temporarily disable the security systems,â Director Kang said. âIt 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.â
You frowned. âTen minutes isnât much time. What if the Crimson Fox has already infiltrated the museum by then?â
âThatâs a risk we have to take,â Director Liu admitted. âBut our intel suggests he hasnât made his move yet. He seems to be waiting for the right moment.â
âAnd you believe that moment is imminent?â you pressed, wanting to be sure.
Director Han nodded. âAll signs point to it. We canât afford to wait any longer.â
You took a deep breath, considering the gravity of the situation. âWhat about the museumâs guard schedule? Any gaps or vulnerabilities?â
Director Kang pulled up a digital layout of the museum, highlighting key areas. âThe guards rotate every four hours. The weakest point is during the shift change, which happens at 2 AM. Thereâs a brief period of about ten minutes where the new shift is settling in and the old shift is wrapping up.â
You nodded, making mental notes. âSo, we time our infiltration during the shift change. What about the museum director and head of security? Are they on-site during that time?â
âThe head of security is on-site, but the museum director leaves around midnight,â Director Liu said. âWeâll need to find a way to access the directorâs biometric data before he leaves.â
You pursed your lips, nodding slowly. âAlright. What about the Crimson Fox? Any recent intel on his whereabouts or movements?â
âWe believe heâs been laying low, preparing for this heist," Director Liu replied. "But we have no concrete information on his exact location.â
âGreat,â you muttered to yourself sarcastically. âSo, weâre going in blind, hoping he doesnât show up at the worst possible moment.â
âItâs a calculated risk,â Director Kang said, his tone firm. âBut we have confidence in your abilities.â
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. âIâll do it. But if things go sideways, Iâm not taking the fall for this.â
âUnderstood,â Director Han said. âWeâll 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 didnât want to get too comfortableâespecially 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 unfamiliarâusually, 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 cafĂŠ, 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 hadnât 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 couldnât 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.
âAre you sure this is the right time for it?â the male voice asks, sounding nervous.
âWe donât have a choice,â the female voice replies, more assertive. âEverythingâs in place. We need to act before itâs too late.â
âBut what if someone finds out? The consequencesââ
âKeep your voice down,â she hisses. âNo one can know. Especially not her.â 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 âherâ? 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 dayâs 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 offâyet you force them into the back of your mind, as thereâs 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, youâre 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.
âAgent,â he starts, his voice smooth and mocking. âHow nice to see you again.â
âYou seem to have gone through a lot of trouble to get here tonight,â you note, glancing at the unconscious guards. âWhatâs your endgame?â
The Crimson Fox chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. âMy endgame? I think you already know. But the real question is, whatâs yours?â
âSaving the artifact from your hands,â 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. âAnd why do you care so much about this artifact? Do you even know what it truly is?â
âI know itâs important to the organization,â you reply, keeping your voice firm. âImportant to the organization,â he echoes, a hint of derision in his tone. âBut why? Have you ever asked yourself that? Why would they value something that, to everyone else, seems insignificant?â
You hesitate, and he catches it. âYouâre starting to wonder, arenât you?â he continues, stepping closer. âStarting to see the cracks in the façade. Tell me, why would they go to such lengths to protect this? What are they hiding?â
His words leave you pondering, but you refuse to show it. âYou talk a lot for someone whoâs about to lose.â
âWeâll see about that,â he says, his tone almost playful. âBut deep down, you know Iâm right. Youâve seen enough to question them. To doubt.â
âWhy do you care what I think?â you taunt, genuinely curious now. âWhy are you trying so hard to make me doubt them?â
âBecause,â he says, his voice softening just a fraction yet still deceiving, âI see potential in you. Itâs just⌠misdirected.â
His words make you pause. âYou donât know me.â
âMaybe not,â he admits. âBut I know enough. And I know youâre not blind. You can see the truth if you look hard enough.â
âAnd what truth is that?â you challenge, your heart pounding. He smiles, but itâs devoid of positivity. He then responds, âThatâs for you to find out. But first, you have to want to know.â
âDo you?â
His question hangs in the air, heavy with implication. Youâre at a crossroads, and you know it. The choice you make now could change everything. You stare at him, your mind racing. Heâs given you a choice, a chance to see things differently. And for the first time, youâre 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 dodgeâeverything 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 breathsâit 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 otherâs 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.
âWooyoung...?â
đŞâ lividstar.
#๨ŕ§ďšăďšlividstarďź#jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung x reader#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez angst#wooyoung ateez#atz x reader
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âWeâd never want you to struggle aloneâ
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader
genre: angst wc: ~2100 cw: mentions of depression and death of family members, hatred for the holidays
Hi guys! Hereâs my attempt at some Christmas/holiday angst. The fluffy Part 2 is posted and linked at the bottom of this post!
Feedback and likes/reblogs are greatly appreciated! I haven't got the chance to interact with too many people on here yet, so reach out if you'd like!
Happy scrolling!
"Hey guys, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm gonna head to bed. Chan Oppa, I'm gonna go lay down in your room until everyone's ready to go back to our dorm," you wave off their comments asking you to stay with them and make your way to the leader's bedroom.
It's December 20th, and the guys are all gathered around the television in the 3Racha/Hyunjin dorm, binge watching Christmas movies. During a normal year, you'd all be at your own homes with your families, cozying up to the fireplaces and drinking hot chocolate with your siblings. However, this was no normal year, and your comeback ran too close to the holidays, not allowing you nor the boys to go home for Christmas. Not that you particularly minded; you hated the holidays.
You imagine what you'd be doing at home right now, no doubt curled up in your bed with an exciting romance novel, listening to some dark academia playlist you'd found on YouTube.
But you're not home, you're stuck here with a bunch of Christmas-crazed dorks who have spent the last few weeks decorating your dorms full of all things Santa Claus. You've been managing to sneak away whenever any holiday-esque activities are taking place. You've not told them of your hatred towards the holidays, and you're not really planning to, either, not wanting to be the reason their fun-filled nights are ruined; they're already sad enough about not being able to head home for the holidays, the last thing you want to do is be a scrooge. So, youâve resorted to humbly excusing yourself, busying yourself with your own activities when the occasion arises.
As you walk into Chan's room, you take notice of all the little trees he has decorating his room. Cute. You pick up the picture of his family he has resting on his nightstand beside his bed. You stare at his mom, dad, siblings, and grandparents smiling faces, feeling the familiarly unavoidable pit in your stomach form.
Your parents and one set of your grandparents passed away in a car wreck about five years ago, before you debuted with the guys. Your other grandparents, your mother's parents, passed away before you were born, never getting the opportunity to meet them. So, that left just you and your brother. Your brother, being a few years older than you, started his own family the summer after your parents passed. He has a beautiful wife and two children now, one boy and one girl. They got right to baby-making after they got married, so excited to start a family of their own. Unfortunately, that family never included you. You only know of their children because youâre mutuals with your sister-in-law on social media.
Your brother essentially ghosted you after his first child was born. You two were never the closest sibling duo, but you never expected him to completely drop you and ignore your existence. But he did, and that's just something you have learned to live with.
You were not in a healthy place after all this happened. You had no one to go to when your heart was breaking, grieving the loss of both your dead and alive family members. You put all your focus into the trainee program, all your sadness and anger towards the world into your dance and song. Chan eventually found you on that one fateful day that you deemed saved your life. You were at the lowest of your low, and you thought you had finally reached your breaking point, but then walked in Christopher Bang Chan, all smiles and laughter. He recruited you to be in his group as one of the first, right after Han. From then on, you had another reason to keep going, to keep fighting.
You've never told the guys this. You have always been a more reserved member, keeping all of your personal life out of the spotlight. While the boys never heard you talk much about your family, really only knowing you have a brother, they always thought that, when you went home for the holidays, you went home to a nice big house filled with love. They thought when you walked in the doors to your childhood home, you were welcomed in by your parents with opened arms, beckoning you in. They thought you spent your Christmas mornings opening nicely wrapped presents, followed by a home-cooked breakfast that'd be shared amongst your family.
They didn't know of the single bedroom apartment you called yours. They didn't know of the bareness that captured your living room, baren of all things Christmas and the lack of Christmas cookies and presents on Christmas Day. They didn't know you've always spent your holidays alone.
Honestly, you were completely fine with their assumptions. You didn't need nor want their pity. Your family was still an incredibly sensitive topic to you. Before their passing, you were so very close. You'd spent every holiday together, enjoying your time as a family, doing all the cliche things. You'd even gone caroling a few times, walking around your childhood neighborhood singing the classic Christmas songs off-key to your friendly neighbors.
Afraid you'd spiral, leading you right back to how you'd been before Chan found you, you never brought it up, and the boys never pushed you to talk about your family. They figured you were normal with a mom, dad, and a loving brother-so what's to talk about?
The holidays have never felt the same; you knew they wouldn't. So why try? Why go through the effort of making yourself a nice Christmas dinner, attending church on Christmas eve and waking up early Christmas morning, when you knew your parents wouldn't be there to greet you. When you knew your grandmother wouldn't be there to give you the biggest hug she could muster in her old age. When your grandfather wouldn't be there to give you a hearty pat on the back, his only true form of physical affection you'd ever experienced in all your years with him.
A quiet knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and in walks Felix with a glass of milk in hand. You quickly set down the picture frame you didn't realize you were still holding and give him a warm smile.
"Hey, what's up?" you ask him, taking the glass from him and sipping on the cold beverage.
"I just wanted to make sure you were feeling alright. You've been pretty distant for a couple weeks now. Is everything ok?"
You're a little caught off guard, this being the first time anyone's noticed your pulling back since the beginning of December. You honesty didn't even realize anyone was paying attention to you, all of them too caught up in the festive activities and excitement of the season.
"Yea, I mean, I'm fine. Just a bit of seasonal depression," you write off his concerns.
"I didn't know you had that," Felix ponders his thoughts for a minute, giving you a loving look. "Is there anything I can do to help? Have you always had seasonal depression?"
While looking into Felix's warm, brown eyes, you decide that keeping all these things from them all these years has been unfair. They're never afraid of sharing their personal struggles with you. You think back to all the times Han's came to you with anxiety, and how you've wanted nothing more than to take away all his worry and pain. How Seungmin's came to you with his insecurities, and you always hyping him up, calling him the most beautiful boy. If any of them had kept their struggling to themselves, it'd crush you. How dare they feel like they couldn't come to you? Why would they want to struggle alone?
You realize that these feelings are most definitely reciprocated by the guys. Now, feeling vulnerable after being left alone with your thoughts for so long, you have the dire urge to come clean about your family.
"Actually Felix, I've been struggling with this for quite some time now. Can you, maybe just, listen? I've never talked to anyone about this, but I want to now. I want you guys to know," you fiddle with your hands, sliding one of your rings on and off your finger.
"Of course! You can always talk to me. Go ahead, I'm listening." He grabs your hand, halting your fidgeting. You look up at him, take a deep breath, and let it all out. Everything you've been holding onto these last few years. It probably sounds like word vomit, all your feelings and hardships falling out of your mouth at lightning speed. You finish your rambling, and you finally have the courage to look up at his face again.
He's crying. Equipped with all the theatrics, the wobbly lip and rosy cheeks. You made Felix cry with all your problems. You reach up to his cheek, wiping a few of his falling tears.
"Ok, I think I'm done," you freeze as Felix also brings his index finger up to your cheek. You flinch when he pulls away, seeing the dampness of it.
You're crying, too. You didn't even realize. I mean, it makes sense. You just trauma dumped all of your troubles onto Felix, the world's most renowned empath, of course you'd be crying.
You guys sit in silence for a minute, before Felix's whimpers become audible. He's so visibly distraught, and your heart breaks even more just at the mere sight of him.
He launches himself at you, clinging to you so tightly you think your ribs may crack. He tackles you back onto the bed, resting on top of you.
"Why did you never tell us this?" his sobs wreck through his body, his arms trembling around you, "We could've helped you."
"I was scared," you wriggle one of your arms free of his embrace, using it to affectionately run your hand through his hair. Your sobs join together as one, both of you a mess. "I was scared you guys would pity me, or look at me less. I was scared that I'd spiral again if I talked about it."
"Well, we're here now, Jagiya." He sits up after a few minutes. His cries have quieted, and so have yours. "We aren't going to let you continue going through this alone, ya know. We are one, and if one of us is hurting, we're all hurting. Please don't keep things like this from us anymore." He begs, standing from the bed. He grabs your hand and pulls you up, making his way towards the door.
"Where are we going?" your voice shakes and you pull away from Felix, standing in the middle of Chan's room. You wrap your arms around your middle, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.
"You know we have to tell the rest of them. They deserve to know, too."
"Felix, I don't think I can tell the story again. Once was enough for a lifetime."
"OK, do you feel comfortable with me telling them? I'll tell them exactly what you told me, no more, no less, ok?"
You frantically nod your head, grateful for Felix's suggestion.
He blows you a playful kiss, no doubt trying to make you feel better, and he leaves to go to the living room. You take your seat back down on the side of the bed and wait patiently for Felix to finish.
You don't hear much for the next few minutes, but you're startled by the swinging open of the door, the handle cracking against Chan's poor wall. Han stands there, a dazed look on his face. His glassy eyes meet yours, and you shriek when he takes off, leaping onto the bed onto your small frame. He wraps you up in a big hug, squeezing the life out of you.
"We love you, and we'd never want you to struggle alone. We're in this life together."
One by one, the rest of the guys make their way into the room onto the bed. We're haphazardly thrown into a cuddle pile of sorts. A cuddle pile filled with the love and adoration you've been missing during the holidays.
You all lay in each other's arms, and you feel incredibly comfortable and safe. Chan's the first to break the silence, "We have five days left until Christmas. What do you say we make some new Christmas traditions? We don't want to replace what you used to have, and youâre entitled to spend your Christmas season as you'd like. But, if you'll let us, weâll give you something to look forward to about the holidays again. Please?" The guys are all looking at you now, each of them displaying a face that could rival a sad puppy.
You realize now that there's nothing to be scared of. These are your best friends you're talking about, who want nothing but to shower you in love and happiness.
"I'd love that."
Part 2
#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz oneshots#stray kids oneshot#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz angst#stray kids angst#skz 9th member#stray kids ninth member#stray kids 9th member#skz ninth member#part 1/2
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Gloomletâs TS4 Script, Gameplay & Replacement Mods
So I decided to compile a list of all the script/gameplay mods that i use or have used in my game. This was mainly made for my personal use, but iâm sure it could be helpful to other people too!
UPDATE! PLEASE READ!! This list is no longer up to date - use the Google Doc! - 04/25/24
Basic & Recommended!
TS4 Mod Manager ui cheats extension mc command center Carl's Sims 4 Gameplay Overhaul Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul Wonderful Whims The Mood Pack Mod First Impressions Contextual Social Interactions Simulation Lag Fix Teleport Any Sim Better Exceptions
CAS Mods
Stand still in CAS More Traits in CAS Tidy details in CAS More CAS columns Lifetime Aspirations Child Aspirations Set Housewife - Aspiration Unlimited Likes + Dislikes Preferences Plus Homebody - Preferences 100+ CAS Traits Resized Facial Piercings
Replacements & Retextures
Fan Art Maps Map Replacements Overhaul Clean UI Sims 1 & 2 Font LIS Fonts Fluffy Clouds (Ghibli Clouds) Feet replacement Hand replacement Bra + Panty Default Replacement better babies + bottle replacement Another baby bottle replacement Default Cutlery! Cute Kitchenware Replacement Boxing Gloves Aquarium Fish Recolor Ceiling replacement paint it up mod A brighter mop Selfie Override
Objects Phone Replacement Smaller dollhouses Switch Controller + console Game controller PS1 console pc game override Remote control sponge & spray override Another Sponge & Spray override
Electric Toothbrush Razor Bassinet override infant rug + Â infant tub child drawing replacement weather controller Cats & Dogs Fireplace Headphone/earbud override Old-fashioned Suitcase The slightly nicer Tree House Fireplace Lil Campers Light
Replaced + more Interactions Bed Cuddles Better Woohoo Reactions Realistic Reactions Brush Teeth From Toothbrush Holders Wake-up animation Greetings
Visuals & effects No overhead effects No zzz No object highlight no plumbob please Smaller Mosaic Minimalist CC Icon More Holiday icons
Gameplay!
Playable Pets Slower infant needs Expanded Mermaids Who's Knocking More Visitors No Bad Microwave Buffs Memory Panel Smarter Pie Menu: Searchable Smart Sim Randomizer Play Chess on any computer Strangerville Story toggle
Careers & Jobs Career Overhaul New Careers Simdeed Recruitment Services Flex Part-Time Recruitment Agency Game Developer Career Ultimate Nursing Career Modeling Career Tumbling Tots Daycare Career Shear Brilliance - Cosmetology Seasonal Odd Jobs - Autumn Odd Job Overhaul Modeling and Makeup Odd Jobs Babysitting Gigs Freelance Chef
Education Uni Tweaks Education Overhaul Uni Application Overhaul University costs more Choose Your Roommate Long Distance Learning No Uni Housing Restrictions Uni Aspirations School Lunch Override Longer or Shorter Degree Requirements
Cooking + Food Food Retexture Pack 1, Pack 2, Pack 3 Breakfast Retextures Pizza Retexture Grannies Cookbook Chef Buffet Sâmore Options Srsly's Complete Cooking Overhaul Dine Out Reloaded Delivery Services Sims Eat and Drink Faster Porto Luminoso Market Cutouts Buyable Cakes Functional Mixer HCH Mixer & Cookbook Functional Air fryer Functional Blender Functional Cookie jar Another Cookie Jar Functional Toaster Functional Cake Stand Functional Rice cooker Functional Pressure Cooker Boba Tea Add-ons Functional Beer Functional Frozen Ice Cart
Pregnancy Realistic Pregnancy Cherished Moments - Pregnancy Science Baby Tweak
Services & Apps Sim National Bank âSimDaâ Dating App Exchange Store
Interactions Meaningful Stories Cute Romance Drama Mod Autonomous Go Steady and Propose Autonomous Break Up and Divorce Dynamic Teen Life Parent-Child Relationships Let's Get Fit Modpack Sumba Fitness
Functional Items Playful Toddler Pack Toddler Play Telephone Little Chefâs Toy Kitchen Void Critter Tablet Functional Pool Slide
Functional Toy Bin Functional Hopscotch Functional Broom Functional Paper Sketchpad Functional Drumkit Functional Spiral Staircases In Your Safe Piggy Banks Film Reaper Movie Theater Left End Counter Dishwaser
Random Small mods
Loading and CAS screens
Free Sims 4, Free Loading Screen Bonehilda Loading Screen Custom Color loading screens Lights Out Loading Screen The Blues Collection Loading Screen Lin Sims Loading Screens San Sequoia Loading Screens Abstract Art + Landscape Loading Screens H-O-B & Sulani Loading Screens Autumn Loading Screens Pink Kitten Animated Loading Screen Life is Strange Loading Screens Cloudy TS2 CAS Background Ocean Waves CAS Room Old School - CAS Room Modern Minimalism CAS Room Plumbob replacements Crystal Loading Screens
lighting mods
sunblind lighting + installation Milk Thistle Better in-game lighting Gentle CAS lighting
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A Story for Star Trek Day
I've told this story on Twitter before. I tell it every Star Trek Day and whenever a Deep Space 9 anniversary rolls around. It's about me and Avery Brooks (aka Best ST Captain Benjamin Sisko).
The college my mother went to specifically started recruiting top Black students in the 60s. Due to this, the Black kids all mostly knew each other as they were in that same program. Avery Brooks went to the same college and they were good friends.
(She once told me he had a huge crush on her and I was like MOM. MOTHER. WHAT. HOW COULD YOU HE COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.)
Anyway, many of the students in this program remained friends long after college. So over the years as Avery was getting TV gigs & such we would all watch cuz he was my mom's friend & I thought that was the coolest. There was one particularly fun night when my best friend's uncle, Frankie Faison, guest starred on A Man Called Hawk. TWO people we know on TV!
When I was in middle school Avery was touring his production of "Paul Robeson" and it came through our town, so I got to see him perform in person (awesooooome) and meet him for the first time since I was a baby (which I did not remember, of course).
Now, backing up a little bit: I am a Star Trek fan because of my mom. She loved the original series and I remember being a wee Tempest in front of the TV watching The Wrath of Khan and us excitedly going to see Star Trek IV together.
I watched TNG from the instant it appeared on TV because of her. I watched all of The Animated Series even though everyone looked "wrong". (Man... it took me 4 months to realize that dude in the red shirt was Scotty cuz I'd only ever seen movie Scotty.)
Then... they announced Deep Space 9.
We heard Avery Brooks would be the commander and there was MUCH rejoicing around our house. DS9 turned out to be the best Trek ever and, of course, Avery was awesome. This was around the time my mom dropped that "he had a crush on me but I wasn't interested" bombshell.
I'm still bitter.
I mean, I love my dad he's great. But SISKO COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.
I lost my mom in 1999. She was--and I'm not exaggerating--an extraordinary woman and beloved by many. I received so many beautiful messages of condolence from her friends all the way back to those college years, including Avery. So many people remembered her fondly. <3
I kept watching Star Trek and often talked to her as if she was there during episodes. She would have LOVED Discovery. Especially since she took me to RENT the year I started college. I'm sure she would have shared my opinion of Enterprise as well. But she loved her some Scott Bakula, so she would have watched, anyway.
I got the chance to interview Avery Brooks at DragonCon back in 2013 (jeez, it's been almost 10 years omg). Before the interview, I went up to him on the Walk of Fame and I said:
Hi, I'm (name K stands for) Bradford, I don't know if you remember me...
And he looked up and said: Of course I remember you.
We talked for a bit and I asked if I could come back and interview him later and he said yes (he wasn't supposed to; his handler had A LOOK). I didn't want to hold up his line, so I said I'd see him later.
Before I could go, he reached out for my hand and squeezed it before saying: I loved your mama, you know.
And we just stayed like that for a few seconds, missing her together.
...I might have been trying very hard not to burst into tears.
That DragonCon was the last time I saw Avery. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, that's probably the last time I'll see him in person. I'm glad we got to have that moment together. And we had a great conversation!
His contribution to Trek has meant so much to me. SISKO4EVA
And I'm glad that it's another tie between me, my mom, and Trek. I can't watch DS9 without hearing her voice giving color commentary. Even the episodes she didn't live to see.
I think Star Trek is part of what gave her hope for the future. She passed that on to me. â¤ď¸đđžâ¤ď¸
Happy Star Trek Day to all who celebrate.
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Break Me Down - Part 7
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: Youâre a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk â leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcherâs team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of themâŚ
đ Break Me Down Masterlist
AN: I think a lot of you have been waiting on this oneâŚand stick around after the end for something special!
Song Inspo: For this chapter itâs âCanât Waitâ by Foreigner (if you listen to it, youâll see why).
Word Count: 5,000
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut and feels. That is all.
Part 7: Until Midnight
Two weeks later, you could admit that Ben was frustrating you in a different way than usual.Â
You didnât want to like him, or be indebted to him. But he was different lately whenever the two of you were alone. Especially at night, when the two of you often met in the kitchen.Â
It was the one time where he truly seemed to relax, without his men around him. Without the Soldier Boy persona he wore like a fine tailored suit.Â
One night, the two of you were once again sitting together in the kitchen after a marathon of all three Hangover movies. Now you each had a pint of Ben & Jerryâs, of which youâd convinced him to try the âChunky Monkeyâ so you could have your âHalf Bakedâ brownie pieces and cookie dough to yourself.Â
Ben had all but inhaled his, while you were still chipping away at half the pint.
âYou still hate me?â he asked.
You paused in delving into a thick piece of brownie to look up at his bearded face, which was deceptively nonchalant. If he was asking you that, then he really did want to know.
Yet it was a harder question to answer than you wouldâve thought a couple of weeks ago. You decided to level him with the truth this time.
âLike I said before, I donât have a personal vendetta against you or anything,â you admitted.Â
Ben rose a brow at you. âBut you hate me.âÂ
You sighed. He could be so childish sometimes.
âHave you forgotten that youâre still holding me against my will?â you pointed out. âPresumably until my team can find me, and you can pick them off one by one.â
âYou fuckers came at me first,â he countered. âAnd I havenât touched you. Hell, I saved you.â
Yes, he had. You couldnât ignore that fact.
But there were other reasons that he needed to be put in check.
âYouâve killed a lot of fucking people, Ben,â you said. âI canât imagine how many of them didnât deserve it. And before you start, collateral damage is not an excuse. Itâs murder. You havenât seemed to care about that, or much of anyone other than yourself and your own amusement.âÂ
There. Cards on the table.
Ben set down his ice cream on the counter with enough force to rattle his spoon. He crossed his arms at you.
âYouâre pretty fucking high and mighty for someone who probably spent the last few years up Voughtâs shithole,â he pointed out, shaking his head. âDoing their dirty work. Whatever I did back then, it didnât end with me. You were part of it too.â
You frowned in annoyance. A hot retort was poised on your tongue.
Whatever he did back then? Heâd crashed a skyscraper and killed nineteen people last year! Heâd taken out nearly the entire cast of Payback, his old team. However justified he felt about the latter, taking a life was taking a goddamn life!
You wanted to say all that and moreâŚbut you paused.
Because he wasnât exactly wrong, about you at least. You knew youâd done your fair share of shit. And you had taken people out, when youâd needed to.
For self-defense, to stop a criminal, to protect someoneâŚand yes, sometimes, youâd been part of the cleanup crew. Disposing bodies and extracting supes from âunfortunate situations.â
Those times made you feel less than human for being a part of it. And it was the main reason why youâd gotten the courage to quit Vought and join Supe Affairs in the first placeâŚ
You frowned at the trail of your thoughts, but his voice soon jolted you out of them.
âAinât this a bitch,â said Ben. âIf you could, youâd want me dead. Even though I saved you.âÂ
Your lips pursed. âDead is a strong word.âÂ
His angry gaze on you was unrelenting.
âAsleep is as good as dead for me.â
You stared back at him in resignation. Fair enough.
You couldnât refute that, but you also didnât know what he wanted from you. He was implying that he wanted you not to hate him, but he wasnât willing to let you go either.
You got up to put your spoon in the sink, mostly so you wouldnât have to look at him anymore.
Ben rose from his seat. You felt him approach from behind. You still tensed up as his arm reached around your form to drop in his own spoon. His arm withdrew, but he stood just behind you, at your side. His hand curled around the edge of the counter.
Letting out a discreet, steadying breath, you turned towards him and met his assessing gazeâŚbut you soon looked away.
It was too much. He was too much. Even his musky cologne was invading your senses, threatening to cloud your judgment. Â
Before you could back away, Ben grasped your chin, tilting your face up to him so you couldnât hide. He heard your pulse picking up with his sensitive ears.
âWell, well. Your heartâs just racing away, baby doll,â he said.
He smirked at the blush rising in your cheeks, despite your defiant gaze. You mightâve said you wanted to put him to sleep, but you definitely didnât seem to hate him.Â
âYou know, that offerâs still on the table,â he said. Your brow quirked, and you crossed your arms.
âWhat offer?â
Benâs hand slid along to frame your jawline, his thumb sweeping across your reddened cheek.
âI can help you end that little dry spell of yours,â he drawled. âCalm that pretty head and have you sleeping soundly tonight.â
Oh, heâd help you fucking sleep, he thought.
Heâd help you not be able to sit on that perfect ass for a week. Heâd gladly work you up with fingers, lips, and tongue until you threatened to fucking drown him. Until you were writhing at his touch and singing just for him. Until you begged him to fuck you.
But you just rolled your eyes at his offer with a huff. Maybe you didnât believe he was serious. Oh, but he fucking was.
Overall, you were a pain in his ass. And you had been from the beginning.
You had a dangerously smart mouth for a woman. Along with a stubborn streak to rival his, and a strangely self-righteous attitude for someone whoâd mucked through the bowels of Vought and played a part in that world, just like him. You werenât so fucking innocent either.
But he could also see that you were trying to be different. You had a conscience. A family and friends and a lot of other things that Ben didnât have anymore. And maybe never had to begin withâŚ
You claimed to want to bring him down, but you cooked for him, hung out with him, and he could start to believe that you actually enjoyed his company, rather than pretended for self-preservationâs sake.
You were a fucking conundrum that he couldnât totally figure out. And all the while, you didnât seem to realize how much of a temptation you were.Â
It didnât matter if it was that sexy red dress at the club or these plain-ass jeans you were wearing. His hands itched to mold to your curves, squeeze and tease and familiarize himself until he could find out how glorious it would be to damn near suffocate between your thighs.
Your pretty blush, however, was spreading down your neck. Ben wondered how far he could make it go as he glanced down your V-neck top. His smile edged into a grin.
âIâll admit, maybe I havenât been the best host,â he said, injecting some charm. âYou gotta be bored as all hell by now.â
You swallowed as his hand moved down the side of your neck. His fingers slid into your hair, but he kept the smooth pad of his thumb brushing across your cheek. You didnât want to admit that it felt niceâand electrifying at the same time.
His touch was raising goosebumps down the back of your neck, tingling down your spine.
âYou might be projecting,â you managed to quip. âIs the conveyor belt of prostitutes and drugs finally losing its appeal?â
You studied his face, his smirk, and you had a feeling you had deduced correctly: he was bored too. But now you knew why he didnât want you to hate him.
He just wanted to fuck you.
That thought wasnât so surprising. It seemed this man could jump into bed with just about anything with a pulse. But it still made a tendril of heat lick up your spine and your face flush.
You shouldâve just pushed him away alreadyâŚbut his nearness was mucking up your good sense.
The truth was, you werenât afraid of him. Not anymore. And maybe you didnât hate him.
MaybeâŚ
âWell, whatâs it gonna be?â he asked you.
Your lips parted, halting on a reply.
Ben smirked. His hand tightened in your hair, and he finally began to lean down.
But your breath hitched. You instinctively pressed your hands against his chest before he could kiss you, a firm push.
âBen,â you uttered.
He stopped, looking down at you with knitted brows. He just thought you were being stubborn now, a fucking tease evenâŚ
Until he saw the frisson of fear in your eyes.
He quirked a resigned smile. Stroking your cheek one last time, he let you go.
âAll right,â he said. âMaybe next time.â
Your heart was hammering like a Phil Collins drum solo inside your chest as you made your way back to your room.
What the hell, what the hell.
Heâd teased and flirted with you before, but not like this. It wasnât totally obnoxious or disgusting, like heâd genuinely been trying to persuade you. Heâd even looked disappointed when you stopped him. And heâd allowed you to stop him.
(And you resisted a shudder at the contrasting memory of Antonio.)
When you were back in your room, you released a relieved sigh. Your hands trembled on the doorknob.
But it wasnât fear thatâd made you nervous with Ben. Not exactly. It was the insane part of you that actually wanted to take him up on his offer.
Fuck, you thought, raising a palm to your still-warm forehead. I really must be crazy. Or sick. Sick in the head.
Or it had been a stupidly long time since youâd gotten laid.
âSeriously, tell me,â heâd said once, still with a deceptively light grip on your chin. The pad of his thumb brushed your full lower lip, making your breath hitch. He glanced down at your mouth, then back into your eyes.
âHow fucking longâs it been since that pretty pussyâs been touched? âCause in my opinion, thatâs a damn shame.â
The memory caused a delicate tingle in your lower belly, pulsing between your legs. You took in a deep, calming breath through your nose.
Thatâs it, you thought. Iâm done with this.
So you tried for a cold shower first. For the record, you locked the bathroom door before you undressed and hopped into the shower. As the water beat against your back and you dutifully lathered soap on your skin, you couldnât help imagining his heavy hands running over your body.
Fuck. You frowned and quickly dragged yourself out of the shower.
For a few minutes, you were too antsy to get dressed. You paced your small room wearing only a towel, not even thinking really. Just frustrated beyond belief (sexually or otherwise). The truth was, you needed something, or you were going to implode.Â
With a heavy sigh, you laid in bed on your side, still wrapped in your towel. You wrapped your hair up in a loose bun and closed your eyes, just taking a few moments to breathe evenly.
Your knees were folded up, almost to your chest. But you relaxed and let your thighs fall open. With a tentative hand, you decided to slide up between your thighs, just teasing the seam of your pussy.
Then with a sigh, you delved between your folds and teased yourself, to start with. Warmth grew in your lower belly, and you sighed louder when you slid a finger inside. You were wet already just with this, and your sighs turned to shallow breaths, and even a moan once heat flooded through your core, and you were getting closeâŚ
But a knock at the door just had to startle you.
âHey, sweetheart. You there?â
Your eyes widened with a gasp, and you moved your hand back to your thigh. Oh shit.
It was Ben. Of course it was fucking Ben.
âAh, w-wait a minute,â you replied. You scrambled out of bed to lock the door before he tried to come in.
But just your luck, he cracked it open just as you got there. You were met with his handsome face.
His brows rose, his lips then curving when he looked down at you. Or more specifically, you clad in only a towel. You tightened it up on reflex, with a hand on the twisted part at your chest.
âExcuse me,â you said in annoyance. âI donât remember inviting you in.â
His mouth twitched at a deeper grin.
âItâs nothing major. I just had to ask you something,â he said, with an air of nonchalance that only made you suspicious.
Your lips pressed together as you rose an expectant brow.
âOkay, ask,â you said.
Ben reached for your hand, the one holding your towel together.
âCan I see this hand?â
You yelped and secured the towel with your other hand while he examined the one he held.
âWhatâs your problem?â you asked, with real irritation now. Ben ignored you in favor of staring at your hand, specifically the pads of your fingers. Then his gaze cut to you slyly.
He held your middle and index finger up to his nose, with an obscene inhale.
Your eyes grew wide as your heart stuttered. He did not justâŚ
And Ben smirked.
âI think youâre the one with the fucking problem,â he said knowingly. He took a step forward, but you stepped back. Unfortunately, that just brought your back against the doorframe. Your mouth went dry when you again looked up at him.
âI donât know whatââ
He stopped you before you could deny it further.
âYou think I couldnât fucking hear you?â he asked.
You bit your lip. Oh God.
His brows ran even higher, his smirk ever deeper. His lust-ridden eyes raked over you, but they soon met yours again. His thumb ran down the inside of your wrist, over your quickening pulse point.
âI know youâre frustrated. Itâs been a while, huh?â he said. âBelieve me, I know the fucking feeling. But I can take care of that little problem for you. Take care of you.â
You took in a tremulous breath. His heady voice was a curse, reverberating through your chest and running straight down between your legs, warm and pulsing. He raised your chin to make you look up at him.
âYou donât have to like me for that, do you?â he asked.
It was as honest an offer as you were ever going to get. You had to give it to him though, in this, he was a good goddamn actor. He seemed to have figured out exactly what it would take to soften your resolve.
In fact, he fucking crumbled it.
You released a shuddering breath, and tugged him into your room by his shirt. With a hand behind his neck, you pulled him down into your hungry lips.
That kiss was warm and heady, fueled with a passion that only waiting and wanting could create.
Ben took the invitation to heart, grabbing your hips and already bunching the fabric of your towel. It was thin, and he felt the soft give of your curves underneath. He hoisted you up into his arms.
While a normal man mightâve struggled, you knew it was effortless for him. You willingly wrapped your legs around his waist and held his face with both hands. You broke the kiss for a second so you could brush his hair back and made sure he looked into your eyes this time.
âI donât hate you,â you told him between panting breaths. âI should, but I donât.â
And that was the Godâs honest truth.
Ben paused at that. He roamed your face, maybe judging if he believed you or not.
Then, his mouth curved, and with one hand he reached back to slam your bedroom door shut. It shook on its hinges, but he didnât wait for it to settle as he walked you to the bed and laid you there beneath him. Your hair fell out of its messy bun and fanned out on the pillow.
Ben gazed down at you, enjoying the sight of you all laid out for him. You were already breathing shallowly, your beautiful eyes bright with anticipation and wild desire. They were honest, and he liked that he finally knew what you were thinking.
He claimed a tight grip on your smooth thighs, parting them so he could find his way in between. He moved his way up to claim your lips next. They were plush and pliant under his.
You sighed against his mouth, diving a hand into his soft hair and running a hand down to the buttons of his shirt. He stopped you and all but tore it off himself.
You blinked in surprise, and then giggled a little at his impatience. But it allowed you to explore the new expanse of golden tan skin, down his neck, over his firm chest and muscular arms.
He relished in it for a momentâyour touch. Your hands were soft and warm, and you looked to be genuinely enjoying yourself.
He smirked at that, but he grabbed your wrists before they could venture too much farther than the trail of hair leading below his belt. He trapped them against the bed on either side of your head, and you raised your brows at him with an annoyed little frown. Ben had to chuckle.
âDid I say you could touch me yet?â he said. You met him with a challenging tilt of your chin.
âWho says you get to make all the rules?â you asked. Your calf slid up between his legs, brushing insistently against his already rock-hard length. Ben let out something between a grunt and a moan, and didnât realize that his grip on your arms was starting to get more than bruising.
You winced, with a pained sound caught in your throat. âBen, youâre gonna break me.â
He amended his grip immediately, frowning at himself. He knew how to control his goddamn strength, even in moments like this (usually). Maybe he was too fucking excited to finally have you beneath him.
But he soothed his thumbs over your wrists and heeded the tug of your hands down to your waiting kiss. He braced an arm above your head and all but devoured you, slipping his tongue past your lips.
He kissed you like a man starving. Like youâd never been kissed in your life, and it was all you could to keep up with his demands.
Eventually he burned a wet trail from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your neck. He inhaled your floral soap, a scent that had been driving him crazy for days.
He sucked hard behind your ear, and you gasped, thought you were going to see stars.
Unconsciously you gripped at his hair, tugging more harshly than you meant to. But by the pleased sound he made against your skin, you figured he didnât mind.
Ben soothed a heavy hand up your side and reached between you to untie your flimsy towel. And you let out a slightly shaky breath when he took in your fully naked form for the first time.
âHmm,â his lips slipped into a grin. âI knew it. Fucking beautiful.â
You couldnât help but blush, but you didnât quite know what to say. Ben noticed; it wasnât too often that he had you speechless.
Amused, he thumbed at your lower lip once more, making you smile almost shyly. (He kind of liked that too.)
And he finally touched you, brushing a hand between the valley of your breasts before palming at one of them. You sighed in appreciation, then moaned as his lips found the other one, his tongue swirling languidly around your nipple.
You arched into his touch, gripped into every groove and dip of muscle in his arms, especially when his fingers rolled and pinched just hard enough on the other nipple.
Your thighs pressed together between the cage of his legs, trying to find friction.
Ben noticed. He let one hand sooth down your belly, half pinning you down as he continued his relentless exploration. You wanted to touch him too, but right now he wasnât letting up. Everywhere he touched and kissed and sucked set your skin on fire, and enhanced the flood between your legs.
âBen,â you panted into his ear. If you werenât allowed to find out what he liked yet (though you had several ideas), then you wanted him to touch you.Â
âBe fucking patient,â he said with a chuckle. âI know what the fuck Iâm doing.â
You had no doubt of that. But you were becoming impatient.
âYeah? Am I gonna be as old as you before we get to it?â you teased. Ben glanced up at you, but seeing your smirk, his own grew.
âAll right you little shit,â he muttered. He moved up to claim your smart-ass lips, swallowing your giggle as he took a firm grip of your hair.
His other hand, meanwhile, slid up the back of your thigh to grip a nice handful of your ass. He ground his clothed dick into your core and made you both moan.
He slipped a hand up the inside of your thigh and brushed between your legs, making you quiver with anticipation.
He smiled and glanced down.
âFinally, something I recognize in this century,â he remarked. âA nice bush.â
Your brows raised high, both in surprise and slight embarrassment. No one had ever given you that particular compliment before. But you did pride yourself on being neatly trimmed.
âWhat?â you still uttered.
âWomen are so damn waxed nowadays. Feels like Iâm fucking a mannequin,â he said.
âOh, yeah.â You giggled as something occurred to you. âIâm assuming you encountered some bare landing strips on your tour of Brazil.â
He snorted in response. âOne girl actually tried to get me on the waxing table. Something about a âmanzilian.ââ
You couldnât help it. You pictured how confused he mustâve been at that particular offer. How damn near offended (and possibly intrigued).
And you laughed genuinely so hard that you covered your eyes as they teared up.
It made Ben smirk on reflex, feeling pleased that he achieved that kind of reaction out of you.Â
âYou tapped out on that one, huh?â you asked, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.
Ben shrugged. âWasnât so bad, actually.â
At that, you laughed even harder. Oh, how you wished you couldâve seen that.Â
Ben quirked an amused brow at you.
âYou laughinâ at me, sweetheart?â he warned. He reached between your legs while you were distracted, and thick fingers slipped between your wet folds. You yelped in surprise, but then moaned in pleasure as his thumb found your already sensitive clit.
But he, in fact, knew how to take care of you. His thick digits explored your channel and rubbed persistently against that spongey part near the back, slipping in and out with ease, and circling deliberately around your clit until your inner walls squeezed around his hand.
All the while, you held on tight to his shoulders and shuddered at the warmth cresting deep inside you.
âThatâs it, baby,â he said, with a clenching hand in your hair. âSqueeze the shit out of me. Come all over my fucking hand, and then Iâll consider filling you up to the fucking brim.â
With a long and keening moan, you came apart, hot and wet over his fingers.Â
âShit. Thatâs a good girl,â he praised with a nod. He stroked inside you a couple more times before he withdrew his glistening hand.
You held onto his other one as you panted for breath. âFuck.â
âFucking right,â he said smugly.
You rolled your eyes, but you still smiled as you sat up and went for his belt. You were surprised he hadnât fully undressed himself sooner, but he sat up and let you do it.
The two of you knelt on the bed as the belt came free, followed by his pants and underwear and socks (heâd long ago kicked off the shoes). His smug smirk came back now that he was in his full glory, so to speak.
Another blush heated your face. Youâd seen him like this once before, but there had beenâŚa lot going on that time.
This time you had him all to yourself. Your canvas to explore. You started with kisses down his neck, like heâd done to you, biting and sucking though you couldnât leave any marks on his skin.
Not fair, you thought in disappointment, but at least you were eliciting some pleased and guttural sounds the further down you went. And then you took his hard, velvety cock in your hands.
He was big enough that you were maybe a little concerned, but not enough to deter you as you teased him with your soft hands, then squeezed and caressed experimentally. He gripped your hips tight.
âNow whoâs taking a fucking eternity,â he gritted out. He encouraged you to lie back and raised your hips. You found purchase on his shoulders as your eyes met with his, and after a beat, you smiled and gave a short nod.
Ben aligned himself at your entrance and, slowly as he could manage, pushed inside you. You cried out as he stretched you, filled you deep and bottoming out with mangled moans from both of you.
âFuck,â he muttered. âYou feel so fucking good already.â
You managed to smile and run a hand down his chest. âUh, you didnât ask, but I am on birth control.â
His brows furrowed in realization. âWhat, the fucking pill?â
His team certainly hadnât supplied you with that for the past month.
You shook your head. âNo. An IUD. Itâs fine.â
You couldnât believe you two were having this conversation when he was literally inside you already.
âWhat? Thought those died out in the 70s,â he said.
âWell, they came back,â you said impatiently. âJust fuck me, Ben!â
Not one to be told twice, Ben continued by slowly pulling out of you, nearly the entire length of his cock, before pushing back in. It was torturous for him, but he knew you needed the time to adjust. By the third stroke, however, he snapped back into you more forcefully.
It elicited a gasp and pleased shudder out of you. Grinning, he picked up the pace from there and pounded into you at a relentless clip. You held onto his arms for dear life, your nails clawing fruitlessly into his skin. You grabbed his hand when he reached a particularly good angle, moaning his name.
âThatâs right, crooner. Soon enough Iâll have you singing my fucking name,â he growled. âKnew I was gonna have you just like this, fucking you raw.â
You moaned in response. His words, his voice, his touch, it was all breaking you down and taking you apart, piece by piece.
Meanwhile, your voice only spurred him on. Letting go of your hand, his reached for your cheek. Then it slid down to your neck.
âYou got a safe word, baby girl?â he asked, closing a firm, but playful hand around your throat.
But before he could put much pressure, your eyes flew open. Not in arousal, but in panic. Your hands flew to grasp at his wrist.
âDonât! Please, donât.âÂ
Ben looked down at you, surprised enough to pause in all his movements. He released his hand.
Heâd very rarely seen wide-eyed panic in your eyes and in your voice. And youâd never said please.Â
But then, even more strange, you got embarrassed.
You looked away from him as you caught your breath. Ben called to you uncertainly, perhaps for the first time using your actual name.
You took in a deep breath and sat up. But instead of pushing him away, like he half-expected, you moved so that you were both on your knees and you were straddling his lap.
Using his shoulders as leverage, you resumed the pace of dipping his still hard cock inside you, making you both groan in relief.
Ben helped you, gripping your hips to bounce you on top of him.
Soon enough, he grunted as that familiar tightening and heat of pleasure started to make his upward thrusts wild. He knew he was closeâŚ
And he snaked a hand between you to roll over your clit, making sure you were going to get there with him.
A deep tremble went through your lower belly, tightening your inner walls around him impossibly tight as you started to come. Then he followed, finally spilling up and into you.
His arms came around your waist like steel bands as you relaxed on top of him, panting for breath and holding onto his shoulders for dear life.
You gazed down into his eyes, and then his growing, triumphant smirk. It triggered your own wry smile.
And you had to wonder, What the hell did I just do?
AN: Was it as good for you as it was for me? đ
But ok, seriously, I'm a bit self-conscious when it comes to writing smut, so I genuinely hope you enjoyed the ride lol.
(@waynes-multiverse You probably won't see this for a while, but our convo about the Brazilian wax made it into this chapter. đ¤Ł)
Special Feature:
Check out this lovely moodboard created by @chernayawidow â specifically for this story!
I am obsessed:
She also takes requests, so just message her!
Next time:
You called his name again and took his face with both hands.
âWherever you are in your mind right now, youâre here with me. Stay with me!â you raised your voice. His skin was getting really hot.
You gasped and had to let go of him when it threatened to burn you. His chest started to glow and hum. Your eyes widened, and finally, so did his.
Keep Reading: PART 8
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List:
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel
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#until midnight#soldier boy#the boys#soldier boy/ben#soldier boy x female reader#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#the boys season 3#soldier boy/ben x reader#the boys au#enemies to lovers#frenemies to lovers#private investigator!reader#the boys amazon#soldier boy fic#soldier boy smut#break me down#Part 7#zepskies writes
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Midnight Pals: Alice Walker
[mysterious circle of robed figures] JK Rowling: hello children Rowling: I want to introducccce our newest recruit Rowling: Aliccce Walker Alice Walker: âchildrenâ is a gender-neutral form of address that will turn people trans Walker: issssnât she great?
Rowling: welcome to my terf deatheatersss, alice Walker: great to be here Walker: no better way for an esteemed legacy of civil rights and feminist activism to end Walker: than here in the den of rational thought Walker: hey joanne you went pretty easy on the goblins in your book
Walker: I liked the part in your book where the goblins ran the banks Rowling: yesss Walker: and the part where they make matzo out of Christian baby blood Rowling: Rowling: uh
Rowling: that didnât happen in the book Walker: oh sorry was that just in the movie? Rowling: that wassssnât in the movie Walker: oh the video game then? Walker: I mean, you didnât leave that out did you? Walker: seems like a real oversight!
Rowling: I donât get it Rowling: itâss sso weird how we try to be transsphobess but we keep attracting antisssemitesss Rowling: itsss like thossse thingsss are connected ssomehow Rowling: Walker: maybe trans people are a jewish conspiracy? Rowling: yess yess that musst be it!
Rowling: you know, I really donât know how we donât have lovecraft at thesssse meetingssss Rowling: weâre literally ssscared of all the sssame ssstuff!
Walker: I have a poem Iâd like to read Walker: itâs called âmy stupid jewish lawyer ex, he is stupid and smellsâ Rowling: yess YESS Rowling: youâll find in nicccely here Rowling: becausse if thereâsss one thing about my terf deatheatersss Rowling: they are all EXTREMELY divorced
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FL-inspired book recs!
brought to you by hotel wi-fi
Locations
The Royal Bethlehem: âThe Yellow Wallpaperâ by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and âThe Room in the Towerâ by E.F. Benson. these are short stories, not novels, but they are fairly quick reads and are about locations where reality becomes twisted. the yellow wallpaper deals with mental illness and medical neglect, while the room in the tower is more about the overlap between dreams and the real world.
Port Carnelian: Mycroft Holmes by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. ok, hear me out on this one. if youâve ever thought port carnelian would be great if it actually dealt with British colonialism and racism in a meaningful way and also had a murder mystery, you might like this book. a much younger Mycroft Holmes goes with his friend Cyrus Douglas to Douglasâs home in Jamaica to investigate a series of mysterious deaths.
Ladybones Road: The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley. Nathaniel Steepleton finds a gold pocket watch in his bedroom one day, but he cannot open it or even hear it ticking. six months later, it opens on its own, and an alarm goes off at the precise time that a bomb explodes in Scotland Yard. he then goes in search of its maker, Keita Mori, who claims the watch was stolen from his shop. Mori has a gift for elaborate clockwork, and though he seems kind and relatively harmless, Nathaniel is sure he is hiding something.
Ambitions/Major Storylines
Early Light Fingers: The House of Silk by Anthony Horowitz. itâs a Sherlock Holmes pastiche, but it can still be understood and enjoyed even if you donât share my Sherlock Holmes autism. I specified early light fingers, because the mystery of what exactly the house of silk is, and the theme of corruption in highest levels of society, reminds me a lot of exploring and learning about the orphanage. just a heads up, this book is centered around a murdered child, and deals with the systemic abuse and neglect of children in victorian london. its biggest content warning is also its biggest spoiler, so I wonât give it here, but feel free to ask me. I had it spoiled for me on accident and still liked the book a lot.
Late-game Nemesis: âThe Moonlit Roadâ by Ambrose Pierce. another short story, it recounts in three parts the murder of Julia Hetman, as told by her son, her husband, and Julia herself. it specifically reminds me of the dreams of the dead section of nemesis.
Evolution: Into the Drowning Deep by Mira Grant. Tory Stewart becomes obsessed with mermaids after her sister Anneâs disappearance. Anne was filming a mockumentary about mermaids in the Mariana Trench, but the ship she was on disappeared, and was recovered weeks later with no trace of the crew. footage was found that appeared to show the crew being murdered by mermaids, but itâs largely believed to be for the movie, not real. seven years later, Theodore Blackwell recruits Tory as part of his mission to return to the Mariana Trench and capture a live mermaid. it hits sort of the same spot for undersea survival horror that the diving bell section of evolution did for me.
Exceptional Stories
The Bloody Wallpaper: Sign Here by Claudia Lux. hell is an office. literally. Peyote Trip sold his soul while he was alive, and now works in hell, convincing other people to do the same. heâs one deal away from a big promotion, and all he needs is the soul of one last member of the Harrison family. normal laws of space and time donât apply, the real hellscape is capitalism, and secrets donât stay hidden forever⌠sound familiar? in terms of violence and body horror, I donât think it gets much worse than the text of the bloody wallpaper. one of the main characters does have a pretty brutal backstory involving christianity-related child abuse though.
Totentanz: Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. set in late 1920s Mexico, the story follows Casiopea Tun and the Mayan death god Hun-KamĂŠ on a journey across Mexico and eventually into the underworld. Casiopea finds Hun-KamĂŠâs bones in a chest in her grandfatherâs house, and when she cuts her finger on one of the bone shards, Hun-KamĂŠ becomes bound to her. together, they must find the rest of his body, which has been scattered around Mexico by Hun-KamĂŠâs brother Vucub-KamĂŠ, who took over control of Xibalba from him. Hun-KamĂŠ intends to retake Xibalba, but he and Casiopea must face sorcerers, demons, and twisted family dynamics- and thatâs before they even get to the underworld.
#aelan speaks#fallen london#book recommendations#pleaseeeeee feel free to come talk to me about any of these or request more recs#i love books
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Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.
Previous Part: Closing Time
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating
Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
"You look cute today."
"Thanks!"
"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"
"Got it."
Every day.
"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"
"Yeah it's at home."
"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."
"Don't worry Eddie."
He reminded you every day.
"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."
"Alright I'll be there."
"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."
"I swear to god!"
Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.
It was cute endearing.
October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.
And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.
Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.
Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.
And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.
But with Eddie...it was different.
A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.
You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.
Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.
Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.
"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."
You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.
"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.
"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."
"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.
Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.
Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.
They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.
"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."
---
Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.
You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?
Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.
However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.
Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.
"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."
"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.
"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."
"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."
"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."
"Hi."
"Nice of you to finally join us."
Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.
Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.
They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.
Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--
"She's real, I swear."
--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.
"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. âYou make it sound like sports are a scourge."
"They are."
"You like hockey."
"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."
You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.
"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.
"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.
---
Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.
"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."
"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."
"More blood! More! MORE!"
Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.
A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.
To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.
To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.
Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.
Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.
"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.
"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."
"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."
"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."
"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.
"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."
Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--
"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.
"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."
"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."
"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.
"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.
"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.
"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."
"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.
The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.
"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.
They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.
But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.
"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."
"Impress is a stretch."
"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."
You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.
"Go before I gnaw on your brains."
"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.
"Go!"
---
It was an eventful night.
You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.
The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.
You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.
The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.
"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."
He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.
"Listen to your mother!"
And the nickname just stuck.
Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.
"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"
The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.
After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.
"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.
"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.
"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.
"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."
You both froze and you started panicking.
Why had you said that?
Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.
"Or uh...undeath. Considering."
Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.
---
By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.
"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"
"Of course."
"Enough to do it again next year?"
"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."
"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"
"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"
"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.
"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."
He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.
You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.
You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.
"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."
"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."
He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.
Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.
Hands held comfortably together.
Next Part: Promotion
#Eddie Munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#Eddie muson fic#Eddie Munson stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things imagine#Eddie Munson fluff#store manager verse
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Kinda interesting to see why Tom wearing Gun suit in the movie.
I'm so confused on why people say Sonic is helping the government now when in the second movie they literally set up a trap and stunned him in a freaking animal cage.
And also dragged Tom to the storage room. I don't think I'll ever trust the government after that torture if I was Sonic.
Regarding Tom on the GUN uniform, I got a couple of theories:
A. GUN temporarily recruits Tom, maybe as part of their deal like "You're not taking my kids anywhere without me" I doubt they'd think of Tom as agent material otherwise.
B. At some point Tom goes undercover (maybe with Randall's help) because he doesn't trust GUN. Impersonating a soldier is the kind of federal crime we'd expect from Tom Wachowski.
There's still a lot about the GUN story we know nothing about, including a couple major human characters that weren't in the trailer (Captain Rockwell for example). Only time will tell.
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I've not dated or had close relations with moids in years. I've been on the path to spending the rest of my days as a single childfree woman & committing to it as an osawoman. During this time here's what I've learnt, shorter version here:
This lifestyle is a privilege - being able to exist without having to directly depend on a moid romantically/sexually is a luxury. Know the privilege you have and how you can take full advantage of it and keep yourself set. We arent living this way solely bc we're smarter, we were just momentarily luckier. Most women are a political/natural disaster away from losing everything. Bear this in mind; along the way think of "what if" to best start preparing yourself.
Dont bother justifying your ways to people - Most wont and dont want to get it. Save your breath. By getting into back and forth arguments over not marrying moids & not having children you are digging a deeper hole for yourself by giving them more fodder to counter. They wont change their minds. End the conversation short & move on.
You cant save everybody - Ditch the saviour complex. We all get dealt bad hands in life; some worse than others. Other peoples lives arent your responsibility, there's only so much you can do because you've got your own issues too. Besides some are too far gone, you'll only end up drowning or being burned trying to save others especially if they dont want saving.
Recruitment is a waste of time - I often see extensive discourse around this topic w/ some women trying so hard to recruit others into this lifestyle or being separatists, wgtow, etc. All this does is waste time that can be spent on building instead. If some women dont get it oh well it's not the end of the world (although every woman does get it, they're just doing what they can t survive) it doesn't matter long term TO YOU because if you're serious you dont need other womens understanding/stamp of approval to build a network/resources for women; you can get started without them; heck some may join once they see the value like how so many women broke up with their partners after watching the barbie movie. Some women are more focused on recruitment than living the single childfree life they claim to be about and it consumes them - dont let recruitment consume you. Besides other women willingly engaging with moids buys you some time; those who know - know.
Most activism is a waste of time. Things only change when it benefits those in power but they will never relinquish their power entirely. It's great to put knowledge out there for others to learn but getting into discourse having to justify yourself & being swallowed by your activism will do more harm than good. Most activism is a stepping stone at most for the next chapter of your life. Learn to game the system instead of changing the system.
Focus on yourself. Everything as we know it is rooted in the system that has been perfected over the millenias. The problems of misogyny, racism, ableism, etc have existed before we were born and will exist after we die (part of why im not birthing into this mess). Trying to change it is a losing battle. This doesnt mean dont advocate or care about anything but look out for yourself first & be comfortable learning to existing between the cracks. It'll be quite the exercise tho as we've been socialised to prioritise others.
This is not a lifestyle one simply chooses it's something that chooses you. This isn't for everyone, those who know; know. If you require a lot of convincing or handholding then it isn't for you.
It gets lonely. Not because of not having a moidfriend; even when partnered with them many women still feel lonely. It's because most women are moid centric / obsessed and would want to be partnered with an xy someday or already are. Very few women truly commit to or understand this lifestyle irl tbh. Even my moots who are separatists or just single & childfree are halfway across the world. However that said, many women in the community can also be toxic; holding each other to high standards and there being constant bickering. You can befriend moid partnered women but be careful with them. We're surrounded by the system, existing out of core elements of it will come with a degree of isolation but on the bright side there's also peace if it all goes well.
Less is more. The less you say to others the less ammunition they have to hit you with. Bragging about this lifestyle to our predators will only make things harder because they've already got a huge upperhand. Too many of us moving in one go will bring unprecedented waves we're not ready to deal with. See 2, 3, and 4.
Ignorance is not bliss. Completely cutting off from xys including knowledge of their evil will make you unprepared should a threat strike. Not understanding moids nature is how some women think things are as easy as getting up and walking away without considering security & other factors then get suprised when moids strike. I'm not saying drown in true crime & xy evil but dont stray too far you lose touch of reality. Side note this is why women are gaslit about moids nature so that they dont have the chance to effectively prepare. Stay informed. I constantly learn from the women around me. Pay attention to xy motives & tactics. The power they hold, possible moves they may play etc. You wont be able to know/guess everything but stay in the loop nonetheless.
You will make mistakes be prepared to learn
It gets easier to control your attraction to moids overtime (if you're osa) as your focus is elsewhere as you realise there is a more fulfilling world out there beyond marriage & kids. Also life is just so much better. I know most women want the fairytale prince charming or an angel nigel but it's just not happening. Especially in a world like this. The freedom to be able to exist as a person & not a slave/punching bag for a rape ape is BLISS. You get so comfortable with it you wont wanna be with moids anyway especially when you see what other women go through. (Side note this is why women are pushed to being with moids as early as possible so this level of enlightenment is never reached & instead all women know + become accustomed to is suffering at the hands of moids).
As time passes and you mature into this lifestyle you can tell who's new and who's got skin in the game. I wont elaborate here as it'll digress and this note is long as is but those who know; know.
There's so much work to be done it'll last a lifetime. This lifestyle ain't easy. It strays from the norm so the typical guardrails that come with traditional options are out of the picture. The good news is that you can spend time crafting your own blueprint to follow or share with others who are willing. There's such little in terms of infrastructure & resources for single childfree women and yeah xys will likely try to destroy these things but at the same time if it can be done go for it and bear xy threat in mind we gotta start somewhere.
A purpose/guide is important. It's something that's going to guide your life through the ups and downs because it wont be a smooth ride but it'll be something that can make you in situations that break you. This isn't a "fuck you" to moids directly, it's about ourselves. Seeing this lifestyle as some type of "gotcha" against moids will only make things harder and lowkey misses the point of decentering them. I have my reasons for never getting married or having children that are solid (if you need inspiration checkout r/breakingmom on reddit). True comes from seeing something as bigger than yourself; find a purpose in this line of life to keep you going.
Invest in yourself. Personally, financially, etc. Pretty obvious but especially now that you're going to be more alone you need to be able to count on yourself more. With enough investment it can help other women too.
Invest in female network. No gyn is an island. Even though I'm not much of a social person the friends I have make my life better; they've been supportive but also honest. Also support female centric spaces online & offline; they're all that we have lest we be banished to the silo prison of the "nuclear family" or exploitative misogynistic communities.
Get comfortable disassociating/cutting people off. If you want to survive some things/people will simply just have to go.
You arent owed anything from other women, but you dont owe them anything either. The operating word here is owed, I aint saying women shouldn't help each other - I'm saying dont feel entitled. The feminist "girls support girls" schtick is bullshit. We're in a cold world full of ruthless oppression where everyone is just trying to survive however they can; in many cases it helps women survive when they turn on other women instead of on moids. Solidarity works because those who have solidarity politically speaking are people with power, it works in their interest to stand & work together as to keep + maintain their privileges in society so there wont be much female solidarity as in many cases it's not worth it to women long run. It aint right but that's how they perceive it so watch your back.
Everything is political. Always remember this. Many (privileged) people try to downplay politics & its effect but it runs our world which is why they want you blind to it. Pay attention.
There's merit to being around like-minded women even if it's just online. Like I said before it gets lonely. Very few women are willing to face & accept the truth about maIes. Being around like-minded women can be depressing sometimes as they drop blackpills bitter than you can initially handle but at least you dont feel so isolated/crazy.
#i will update this with a shorter version later#female separatism#female separatist#radical feminism#radical feminist#blackpill feminism#feminism#blackpill feminist#wineauntmovement#feminist#single life is the best life#single life#wine aunt#childfree
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Recruiting Peter in Civil War: a War Crime?
Today we are going to review this statement:
Tony âblackmailed a teenager to help fight his battles for him (Civil War) (which for the record, constitutes as a fucking war crime)â.
Part 1. Not a war crime: check my post about war crimes here. War crime is a crime committed during a war, by a party of the conflict.
MCU's âCivil Warâ was not a war. It was a conflict between a few people, that included one fight and a chase. The fight at the end of the movie between Tony and Steve with Bucky was not a part of this particular conflict, but a conflict on its own. From the governmentâs side, this situation was a law enforcement operation to capture a group of fugitives, where Tonyâs side represented the law enforcement group under U.N. authority, not a nationâs armed forces.
The definition of Armed Forces: âthe combined military, naval, and air forces of a nationâ.
Source
In comics (Earth 616) it was indeed a war, but not in the MCU. Thatâs first.
Second, âUnder the Statute of the International Criminal Court, conscripting or enlisting children into armed forces or groups constitutes a war crime in both international and non-international armed conflicts (ICC Statute, Article 8(2)(b)(xxvi) and (e)(vii)).â
Tony did not enlist Peter in the armed forces or the Avengers.
And third, âThe bans on recruitment of children below the age of 15 enshrined in Article 77 of Additional Protocol I, and in Article 4 of Additional Protocol II are also considered to prohibit accepting voluntary enlistment (P I, Art. 77 (2); P II, Art. 4(3)(c)).â
â2. The Parties to the conflict shall take all feasible measures in order that children who have not attained the age of fifteen years do not take a direct part in hostilities and, in particular, they shall refrain from recruiting them into their armed forces. In recruiting among those persons who have attained the age of fifteen years but who have not attained the age of eighteen years, the Parties to the conflict shall endeavour to give priority to those who are oldest.â (Protocol Additional to the Geneva Conventions of 12 August 1949, Art. 77 (2)).
Here we got to an actual error from the SMFFH filmmakersâ side. Before SMFFH Peterâs age at the time of Civil War was planned to be 15 (see directorsâ and screenwritersâ commentaries). In SMFFH Peterâs birthday was set to Aug 10, 2001, making him 14 years old at the time of Civil War. We cannot use random date placements made by SMFFH creators to define serious stuff, and also use another movieâs filmmakersâ decisions that were made after Civil War. So we must go with the fact that at the time of Civil War Peter was 15 years old, as was stated by the creators of CA:CW.
Conclusion: Peter was 15 years old, and if he were recruited to participate in a war, it would not be a war crime. But, he also was not enlisted in the armed forces. And Civil War was not an actual war, but a law enforcement operation under UN jurisdiction. So, yes, Tony is not a war criminal. Again. Very disappointing.
If you guys have any other ideas of how to accuse him of war crimes â go ahead. Iâll check them all.
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how to survive a horror movie - the first to go. . .
we aren't gonna talk about the fact that it took me an entire year to revisit this fic and post the first chapter ok? but without further ado, WE ARE SO BACK. give the masterlist a visit for context if you'd like <3 -demi xx chapter warnings: weed mention, brief description of homic*de and violence. minors do not interact!
word count: 3.4k
July 1991.
Youâre practically being boiled alive in the tin can castle known as Munson Manor. The Indiana heat isnât the awful part, but the humidity has you and everyone else in Hawkins choking on the air. The measly little air conditioner situated in one of the living room windows is working overtime to cool off the small trailer to no avail. You and Eddie lay on the floor, staring up at his ceiling, opposite of one another. He turned his head to look over at you, but your eyes are closed, trying to think of anything but the heat. You can feel his heavy stare on you, but you keep your eyes closed, knowing that the blood would rush to both of your cheeks if you caught him staring.Â
âItâs hotter than Satanâs ass crack outside, canât we go swimming or somethinâ?â Eddie complains next to you, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
You take this as an appropriate cue to open your eyes and turn to him, watching him writhe in the uncomfortable temperature. It makes you chuckle a little, examining the way his âSlayerâ muscle tank sticks to his torso from sweat.Â
âI recommended that two hours ago and you whined at that too,â you challenge, resting your hands on your stomach, folded neatly there. Eddie shifts, taking his hands away from his eyes, those chocolate buttons fixating onto your gaze.
âThe people of Hawkins donât deserve to see what Iâve got underneath the denim and leather, sweetheart, but Iâm bakinâ like a pie and Iâve already undressed to my comfort level.â He sounds too much like some kind of massage therapist as he says that last part, earning another breathy giggle from you.Â
Your gaze lingers too long on his cut-off jeans, muscle tank, and bunched up crew socks that he ends up snapping his fingers in front of you, âHellooooooo? Do I need to adjust the antennas on this thing?â He teases, gesturing to the top of your head as if itâs his old television.Â
Waving him off, you push yourself onto your elbows, then off the cool carpet youâd been laying atop of for the last few hours, trying to will the heat away with Eddie at your side. He scrambles to his feet as well, long limbs making him look less like an agile ballerina and more like a newborn giraffe. All leg, no coordination.Â
âIâll give Robs and Steve a call, see if either of them can get a hold of Jonathan and Nance. You can be in charge of recruiting Argyle,â as you give him his set of instructions, he pushes his bottom lip out in a faux pout, âDonât give me those puppy dog eyes, they donât work on me anymore, Munson.â
He mumbles something along the lines of âthey used toâ before heading toward the front door, the jingling of his keychain making you turn your head toward him, his landline nestled between your ear and shoulder, âMake sure he brings sunscreen this time and not just pizza nachos!â
âIâll make sure he brings both!â Eddie quips before the door is closed between the two of you.
. . .Â
Hawkins Community Pool is always packed during the summer. Itâs the one reliable spot to cool off, unless you prefer the hose from your backyard. The poolside is lined with women in bikinis, magazine in hand and sunglasses shading their eyes from the harsh light of the midday sun. Kids splash around in the pool, being scolded by lifeguards being underpaid to make sure none of the little shitheads drown. It's the picture perfect scenery for a small midwest town summer.Â
Sitting at the edge of the pool, your legs barely in the water, you sway your feet and the crystalline liquid ripples around you. Jonathan and Argyle are two knuckles deep in pizza nachos, a delicacy only the ladderâs cannabis-coated mind could craft. Underneath your dark shades, you lift your gaze over to watch Eddie in the pool with Robin on his shoulders, Nancy on Steveâs as they poorly attempt a game of âChickenâ, before one of the lifeguards beckons them to stop.Â
After getting reprimanded by the pool police, Eddie hangs his head in pretend shame as he slides next to you at the poolâs edge , the ends of his curls wet and dripping onto his shoulders. âI bet you couldâve knocked Nance over. Robinâs too soft to head into a brutal âChickenâ battle and win.â He says this because he knows it to be true, although you arenât so sure.
âIâm surprised Robin was being so nervous about it.â You respond coyly, pretending like neither of you know about Robinâs enormous crush on Nancy.Â
Disregarding the conversation about Robin and Nance, Eddie looks around the pool at the moms helping their kids towel-dry off and the meatheads and their girlfriends either arguing or borderline fucking poolside. It makes his skin crawl a bit to see such blatant public displays of affection.Â
However, you think otherwise. It might be nice to have someone dote on you the way some of the boys of Hawkins do to their girlfriends. Maybe not the kind of boy like Tommy Hagan or Billy Hargrove, but someone likeâÂ
âHey! Come play Marco Polo with us!â Steve shouts, Robin and Nancy wading around him like sharks circling their prey.Â
Eddie immediately slides back into the water, but heâs facing you, droplets sliding down his tattooed skin, glistening in the sunlight, âCome on, itâs not every day you get to see how oblivious Steve is to echolocation.â He chides, bringing a ring-adorned hand up to rest on top of your knee. His gesture sends a shiver up your spine, but you nod, more excited than you should be about the prospect of playing Marco Polo. But truthfully, you know why you're vibrating with joy.
The first two games are way too easy. Robin is Marco the first round and finds Eddie first, bumbling around the water like a scared duck. Once Eddie is Marco, he finds Steve and nearly drowns him, causing the lifeguard to give Eddie a final warning. When Steve is Marco, he canât find a single one of you to save his life.Â
âYou suck at this, Steve!â Robin shouts from her spot. Nancy even tries splashing water at Steve to make him find her easier, but to no avail. Eddie has half a mind to try to drown him again. You wade around, trying to stay away from the other three stooges, especially since theyâre actively trying to get Steve to catch them. Itâs amusing, watching the four of them seem so carefree.Â
Marco Polo ends on a high note, Steve finally finding Nancy (by accident). The five of you exit the pool to reapply sunscreen and try to pick at the crumbs of the pizza nachos, but the two megastoners have demolished more than half of them. The heat and water games have you exhausted, skin dry and pruning from the chlorine water. You slip your plastic flip flops on, your towel still wrapped around your torso.Â
âCredit where credit is due, it was a genius idea to go to the pool today,â Eddie compliments, drying his frizzing curls with an old Power Rangers towel, âWanna ditch these crazies and get a slushee?â
. . .
Eddie convinces Nancy to load the whole gaggle of twenty-somethings into her station wagon while you and Eddie leave from Hawkins Community Pool early. She agrees with a roll of her eyes before sheâs back in the pool with Robin and Argyle as she tries to explain how to play mermaids to the long-haired boy.Â
Your thighs stick together in the heat of his van, the chlorine-water creating a layer of discomfort against your skin. You try not to squirm in the seat, flesh itching from the pool drying out your pores. After shoving miscellaneous items into the already packed and trashed back of his van, Eddie most elegantly thrashes into the driverâs seat, his typical dopey grin seated perfectly on his pink lips. Heâs fumbling for a tape to slide into his player, realizing how disorganized his music collection is, he laughs at himself, âMaybe Iâll have Robin organize these by alphabetical order or somethinâ, Jesus.â
âDo that and she may try to sneak some Madonna,â You quip, thinking about Eddieâs disgruntled disagreements with Robin about her taste in music.Â
Turning around, his arm reaching around the back of the passenger seat, he cranes his neck and torso to look back as he backs out of his parking spot. Thereâs something about this gesture, something so simple and plain, that makes your cheeks burn. He doesnât see this, but he notices how you straighten your back up into your seat as you turn to look out the window, âYouâre good on this side,â you offer.
âI know, sweetheart, Iâve got us covered.â
Eddieâs not the best driver, but heâs confident and has always kept you safe when youâre riding shotgun. Heâs even let you pick the music that plays, despite his limited options, leaning toward 80âs thrash metal more than anything else, but itâs grown on you.Â
The drive to 7/11 is about fifteen minutes, give or take. The sun is fading behind the tree line, the bright orange orb glowing beneath, creating a silhouette of twisted tree limbs. Itâs as haunting as it is beautiful. Eddie drums along the steering wheel with the beat to âSweet Leafâ, his hair still dripping onto his muscle tank.Â
You adjust the flimsy cover over your bathing suit, trying to find a more comfortable spot in your seat. Eddie turns into the parking lot to the 7/11, pulling up right in front of the doors. Youâre quick to unbuckle your seatbelt, but Eddie is quicker, hopping out of his driverâs seat to run around the hood of his van, opening your door for you, âMâlady,â he purrs, offering his tattooed hand out to you.Â
You take it with a gentle courtesy, âMâlord,â you respond as you jump onto the pavement, your flip flops clapping against your heels as you do so.Â
âIâve always pictured myself as the court jester. Yknow, fuckinâ around and makinâ a fool outta myself just because I can.â He opens the door to the mini mart for you as well, earning a hushed âthank youâ from you.Â
You laugh at his comment, reflecting on his words, âDonât you do that anyway?â
âIâm taking that as a compliment, so thank you.â Eddieâs tone is a bit sassy , assuming you meant your comment to be an insult, but it is in fact a compliment.Â
The 7/11 is desolate, with the exception of one customer talking to the sole cashier who looks bored out of her mind. Sheâs twirling her red curls around her fingers, popping bubblegum between her lips as the middle-aged man in a baseball cap tries to flirt with her to no avail. Meandering through the maze of aisles, Eddie snags a bag of chips off the shelf before skipping up to the slushee machine, âWhat flavor of tooth-rotting sugar can I interest you in today?â He jests, eyes fixated on the sloshing colored ice in the machine.
Aftering pondering over the two options you have, cherry and blue raspberry, you decide to mix the two flavors, Eddie following suit. Walking through the sweet treats aisle, eyes scamming over the packaging to see if anything in particular looks good, the two of you head to the register, seeing that the man flirting with the cashier had left. Offering a smile to the ginger behind the counter, whoâs name appears to be âBarbâ from her nametag, Eddie chats her up a bit, asking how her shift is going and commenting on the weather finally cooling down. She responds blandly, while ringing up the slushees. You reach for your wallet but Eddieâs already handing over bills from his own wallet. Always one step ahead.Â
The bell above the door dings as you exit, Eddie holding it open for you as you step outside, a skip in your step, âI think her and Nancy used to be friends,â Eddie chides as the door closes, âShe was in school with us.â
You nod, agreeing and acknowledging, âYeah, I never got the full story out of Nance, but they had a falling out.â
The conversation ends there as the two of you climb back into Eddieâs van, treats finally acquired, mission accomplished. Blue raspberry and cherry slushee in hand, you take leisurely sips as Eddie drives, unsure of his decided destination. The Munson trailer had become like a second home to you, your tiny closet of an apartment being the unfortunate first. Even though having your own space is nice and preferable to any alternative, itâs stuffy and during the summer tends to smell like a gym locker room if air isnât properly circulating.Â
In the end, Eddie drives the both of you back to his trailer. Once his van comes to a shuddering halt and the metalhead removes the key from the ignition, the two of you climb out of the vehicle, goodies in hand, and head into the trailer. Wayneâs truck wasnât in the driveway, you assumed he still must be at the shop, despite the slowly setting sun off in the distance. Unlocking the front door, Eddie gives it the typical shove the break the seal of the door against the frame. In the summer itâs indefinitely worse due to the heat and humidity.Â
Kicking his damp converse off, his curls beginning to frizz up upon drying, he places the plastic bag on the small, cluttered dining room table, âMovie night?â he asks, gesturing to the tv, sitting low to the ground atop a beat-up entertainment center, a few stacks of VHS tapes piled up next to it.Â
âHave I ever declined a movie night invitation?â You quip at him as you saunter backward toward the trailerâs bathroom, ready to change out of your still damp swimsuit. Backpack slung over your shoulder, turning on your heels, you can hear Eddie chuckling and making a snide comment under his breath.Â
Once youâve peeled yourself out of the fabric, you exit the bathroom adorning a clean and dry t-shirt and pair of jean shorts settling snugly around your waist. Eddie has already poured the chips from the corner store into a bowl, a smaller bowl of gummy worms sitting next to it on the couch. Eddie sits on his knees in front of the entertainment center, looking through movies that the two of you have watched numerous times before. Two tapes are set aside, as he picks through the rest, âThe Evil Dead, Hellraiser⌠those are the two Iâm feelinâ. Penny for your thoughts, Dear Watson?â he looks over his shoulder behind you with a lopsided grin on his face.Â
âHellraiser, undoubtedly.â You chirp in a faux English accent back to him.Â
. . .Â
Before the end of the movie, both you and Eddie are passed out on the floor, the snacks only half-eaten and forgotten before your inevitable slumber. You wake with a start at the sound of the landline ringing, nearly jumping out of your skin the moment youâre awake, eyes wide open. Eddie, still sleeping peacefully, isnât bothered by the phone ringing. You harshly nudge him awake, both hands shaking his shoulder.Â
âEddie, the phone.â You say with a yawn, trying to calm your racing heartbeat.Â
Curls matted to the side of his face, heâs barely awake as he clambers off of the floor, limbs adjusting to consciousness. Sauntering too casually to the phone, he lifts it off the hook and up to his ear with a yawn, âMunson residence.â He states through the yawn. His demeanor shifts all too quickly, spine straightening at the drop of a hat, dragging the palm of his hand over his face roughly. He speaks in a calm manner, giving you pause.Â
âWayne, slow down⌠Yeah, Iâm fine⌠sheâs here, yes⌠We went swimming, left earlier than the others, grabbed some snacks⌠What?â He answers his uncle, who you gathered was on the other end once Eddie spoke his uncleâs name.Â
Eddie shoots you a worried look over his shoulder. You hadnât seen Eddie this pale since the summer he was set to graduate, worried half to death that he wouldnât be walking across the stage with the rest of the class of 1986. But this worry⌠was more akin to fear than anything else. Climbing up off the floor, you tiptoe over to him and stand beside him, still unable to hear Wayne on the other side of the call.Â
âWhen did this happen?â Eddie asked, his tone borderline frantic. Thereâs another pause.
At first, you think thereâs been an accident at the auto shop Wayne (and Eddie) works at, that he or someone has been injured and he has to wait for the ambulance or police to arrive. An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as you wait for the brunette man to speak again.Â
âJesus Christ⌠No, sheâs standing right next to me⌠Yes sir⌠Iâll see you when you get home⌠Okay⌠Yeah, I know, I know⌠Alright,â he mutters the last part under his breath as he hangs his head, as well as the phone back on the hook.Â
âShitâŚâ he blows out a breath of air, cheeks puffed up as he exhales.
âWhat, whatâs going on?â you ask meekly, anxiety spiked through the roof already.Â
Eddie lifts his head up, expression damn near impossible to read, but that fear is still there, even more prominent than before.Extending a tattooed arm out, he brings you in for a tight embrace. Hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his torso, holding his figure just as tight against you. As you separate, Eddieâs sluggish as he walks over to the couch, plopping down.Â
âI uh, I think you should sit down for this.â He pats the spot next to him, chewing the skin on his bottom lip.Â
Even as you sit down next to him, you can't shake the uneasy feeling thatâs raging in your chest. He wonât meet your gaze, even with you staring daggers at him, trying to will the words out of him with just your eyes, though he doesnât budge just yet. The metalhead leans forward, elbows balancing on his knees as he holds his head in his hands. âWayne just called me from the shop⌠Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins were murdered.â
The anxiety dropped into the pit of your stomach like a large stone dropping into a calm pond. Bile burns at the base of your throat, but you quickly swallow the thick, intangible lump stuck there. A hand over your stomach, you take a deep breath, then another, trying to remain calm. Neither you or Eddie were particularly fond or even close to Tommy Hagan. He was a bit of an uncouth airhead during the years in high school together, and Carol was about as much of a girlâs girl as Tommy Hagan himself, always following him around like a lost puppy, but that didnât mean that anyone wished any harm to either of them.Â
After an unnerving silence between the two of you, Eddie hesitantly reaches over to take your hand into his. He strokes his thumb over your knuckles, noticing the subtle way your hand shakes. âHe didnât⌠say much. Carolâs mom found Tommy in the backyard, face down in the pool⌠Carol was⌠Listen, Wayneâs gonna be home soon, okay? Him and I can take you home-â Before heâs able to finish his line of thinking, youâre cutting him off.
âCan I stay with you?â you mumble, lifting your chin up to meet Eddieâs sorrowful gaze. He softens immediately, nodding.Â
âYou donât even have to ask, mâlady. This castle is just as much yours as it is mine.â Hand over his heart, he gives a small bow, trying to incorporate his signature humor to such a grim time.Â
Even with Eddie keeping you company through the night, both of you back to back in his bed. His pillow smells like his laundry detergent and stale weed and the dip next to you in the mattress gives you a sense of peace. Shifting in the bed for what seems like the fifteenth time in the past hour, you canât get comfortable. Between the news of the double murder of your former classmates and the unruly heat, there is no finding comfort.Â
A tattooed arm snakes around your waist, the warm fan of breath over your shoulder, âQuit fidgeting,â Eddieâs sleep-riddled, raspy voice says next to you. Part of you wonders if he realizes what he's doing, or if heâs not awake enough to, but you donât argue. Though, you find your eyes drifting shut as you keen against Eddieâs touch, sleep slowly pulling you under, even with the macabre thoughts of the evening still plaguing your subconscious.Â
tag list: @yaspillz feedback is always appreciated, and let me know if you're interested in being apart of the taglist <3
#ęąŕżâĄ Ë.*ŕł e. munson#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fic#how to survive a horror movie fic#demibats#joseph quinn#stranger things
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4 Things You Can Try Now That Youâve Read THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR
(technically 5 things)
Mabel - a podcast by Becca De La Rosa and Maybell Marten.
Anna LimĂłn is a home help worker currently looking after the elderly Sally Martin. When Sally has a bizarre and frightening reaction to a box of letters Anna finds in her attic one day, Anna attempts to seek answers by contacting Sallyâs only known living relative: Mabel Martin.
âA podcast about ghosts, family secrets, strange houses, and missed connections,â Mabel is a story that is difficult to describe, but one of the most important points is that the vast majority of it is an epistolary narrative between Anna and Mabel, just like how This Is How You Lose The Time War is an epistolary narrative between Red and Blue. It also has a very distinct writing style- dramatic, flowery, and a little bit intimidating. However, if you loved the writing style of TIHYLTTW, I personally think that Mabel is a perfect match for you.
And Iâm not just saying that because Mabel is a story about two extremely overdramatic women who are somehow both frighteningly caustic yet almost adorably useless.
The Honey Month - a book by Amal El-MohtarÂ
I certainly hope I donât have to tell you this, but Amal El-Mohtar is one of the authors of This Is How You Lose The Time War, and The Honey Month is a short book she wrote several years ago.
The Honey Month is almost more of an experiment than a book- in its introduction, a friend of El-Mohtar explains how she sent her several small samples of honey, leading El-Mohtar to use the gift as in a unique way. For one February, every day she used a different vial of honey as inspiration for a small piece of writing.
The Honey Month contains 28 short pieces of writing, poetry, prose, and some things in between. Itâs a small book full of things with big impact, and contains the lyrical yet meaty writing I enjoyed from El-Mohtar in TIHYLTTW.
Otherside Picnic (čŁä¸çăăŻăăăŻ) - A series of novels by Iori Miyazawa (illustrated by Shirakaba)
College sophomore Sorawo Kamikoshi longs to find an escape from other people, and in trying to find it discovers the Otherside, a strangely beautiful yet unfathomably dangerous parallel world inhabited by the-once-fictional creatures she knows from net lore. She also meets Toriko Nishina, another young woman with a knowledge of firearms and a desire to find her missing mentor. Together, these two girls explore the Otherside and find themselves changing little by little, both due to their adventures, but also due to their relationship with each other.
If you know me you probably arenât surprised at this reccomendation. Otherside Picnic is a truly odd beast- itâs sci-fi, itâs horror, itâs comedy, itâs yuri. Itâs about trauma, itâs about Japanese creepypasta, itâs about useless lesbians, and itâs about how the scariest thing of all is being vulnerable with another human being. I think fans of This Is How You Lose The Time War will enjoy it- Otherside Picnicâs writing style will likely feel almost spartan compared to TIHYLTTW, but in my opinion thereâs a similar level of poetry in it. Thereâs also a similar level of women who are âbadassâ yet kind of messes. Youâve heard of âEnemies to Lovers,â get ready for âAccomplices to Loversâ!
(thereâs also a manga adaptation by Eita Mizuno, as well as an anime adaptation directed by Takuya Sato)
The Handmaiden (ěę°ě¨) - a movie directed by Park Chan-wook (written by Park and Chung Seo-kyung, based on the novel Fingersmith by Sarah Waters)
In Japan-occupied Korea, the pickpocket Sook-hee is recruited by a con-man to aide him in his scam of a Japanese heiress, Lady Hideko. While the con-man poses as âCount Fujiwaraâ and woos Hideko, Sook-hee will play the part of her maid and subtly push the heiress towards him. But as time passes, Sook-hee begins to realize there are things occuring in the mansion that are even more sinister than her and the Countâs scheme, and there is much, much more to Hideko than meets the eye.
This is a list of recommendations for âpeople who have finished âThis Is How You Lose The Time War,â but I try to recommend The Handmaiden to as many people as I possibly can. Iâve described it in the past as the cinematic equivalent of running a marathon: with a 144 minute runtime full of gorgeous direction and set design, dark machinations, twisted yet romantic writing, often troubling themes, and so, so many plot twists, itâs a movie that nearly feels like too much of a good thing. But for fans of TIHYLTTW, Iâm sure what will intrigue you most is the relationship between the two main characters, one so complicated that âEnemies to Loversâ canât hope to capture the roiling feelings of pity, guilt, hatred, desire, annoyance, sympathy, and everything in between.Â
Itâs also just really hot.
The Handmaiden is a movie that is best enjoyed going in knowing as little as possible. That said, it is also a story with dark and often upsetting themes that are absolutely crucial to its narrative. If you are concerned about that statement, I reccomend looking at the moviesâ entry on DoesTheDogDie, which I have looked at and found to be a pretty comprehesive list of content warnings that can be examined in a way that doesnât spoil the twists of the story.
Fingersmith - a novel by Sarah Waters
Iâm sorry, Iâm sorry, I swear Iâm going to get around to it!! I canât technically recommend the book that inspired The Handmaiden since I havenât read it yet, but I have at least one friend whose opinion I trust who sings its praises, so itâs good enough for me. Besides, if the recent popularity of This Is How You Lose The Time War has showed us anything, itâs that people constantly crave stories about complicated women, so it certainly canât hurt, right?
#this is how you lose the time war#max gladstone#the honey month#amal el mohtar#the handmaiden#fingersmith#mabel#mabel podcast#otherside picnic#tihylttw#trigun#bigolas dickolas wolfwood#yuri#gl#sapphic#wlw#lesbian
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