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rosietrace · 16 hours

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「 Gentle Sinner 」

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

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

Mentioned ; Thomas Cresswell (†)

Pairing(s) ; Victoria & Noriko

AU : Secret Agents

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

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

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

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

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

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“Cresswell was meant to be brought in alive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Noriko shook their head. “Unfortunately so…”

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

Himitsu hummed in contemplation. “Right… right…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of what kind?” Himitsu queried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then again, everything with Victoria felt that way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Victoria Shard — Me 😈

Noriko Dolion — @terrovaniadorm / @hallowed-delights

Mitch Reiss — @authoruio

Camilla Marigold — Also Me 😈

Himitsu — Also @/authoruio

Haruka — @geminiiviolets

Felicitas Leya — Also x2 @/authoruio

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the-cookie-of-doom · 8 months

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Chay’s blood is rich and honey-sweet in Kim’s mouth, like nothing he’s ever tasted before. The taste makes his own blood surge, pulsing with want—he's drunk on it, taking deep, greedy pulls. Chay sighs beneath him, a weak moan, no doubt the pain equal to his pleasure. Kim has to force himself to stop. Thin red rivulets drip down Chay’s neck—Kim chases them with his tongue, not wanting to waste a drop, and only succeeds in smearing the stains across Chay’s skin.

“Kim…” Chay is fading fast. His eyes drift to the side, unseeing, and his hands are cold as what little blood left in his veins is diverted to his core.

“It’s alright, Chay, I’m here.” Kim lays Chay down, holding the boy across his lap. He bites his own wrist, thumbs Chay’s chin with his other hand, and spills his blood into Chay’s waiting mouth. Chay tries to turn away from it, but Kim won’t let him, his gentle touch the softest steel. “It’s alright,” he says again, a soothing croon that Chay can barely hear.

When his only other option is to drown, Chay finally swallows, shuddering at the slick warmth that fills his throat. Soon it will burn, as Kim’s venom consumes him, changes him, a cellular alteration.

***

“You can’t keep going like this,” Kim says. Chay, curled around his knees and digging bloody grooves into his arms, refuses to acknowledge him. “I know you’re scared. You don’t want to hurt anyone. But you will. A starving vampire will never be safe with anyone.”

“Then I’ll stay here.” A quiet rasp around fangs Chay hasn’t yet learned to hide.

“Chay—”

“Why do you care? You did this to me! You made me this—this—”

Kim set his jaw. Gritted, “I saved your life.”

“You made me a monster.”

Silence. The accusation hurt more than it should. “Is that what you think I am?”

Chay tightened his arms around himself. He could feel Kim’s hurt through their bond like a physical thing, and he didn’t know why, didn’t know how to escape it.

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to. The blood is donated.”

“Then it should go to someone who needs it to live.”

“Chay…”

“Will I die?”

“... No. I don’t think you will. Not for a long time.”

“Then I don’t need it. And I don’t want it.”

A heavy sigh. Kim knows he won’t be able to convince Chay, He also knows he can’t bear to stand by and watch him wither. Kim nearly lost him once already—he can’t let it happen again. Not when he has the power to prevent it.

That’s exactly what led them to their current predicament. It’s exactly the justification Kim uses to make things so much worse.

Hating himself for it, Kim pulls on the sire bond between them, commands Chay, “Come here.”

Chay tries to fight it. Kim can see the struggle, the way he tears at himself, his eyes wide and wild. “No, no, no—” But the bond is a deep, primal kind of power that Chay can’t hope to resist. It’s woven into the fabric of his being; he’s helpless to do anything but obey. He crawls across the floor to kneel at Kim’s feet.

“Please,” Chay cries, powerless at Kim’s mercy. “Don’t do this.”

There are limits to the power their bond holds over him. If Kim forces this, forces Chay to contort himself around the command, it might shatter entirely. He doesn’t know what would happen to a bitten fledgling without a sire. He doesn’t intend to find out.

Kim sinks his teeth into his own wrist. Drinks the first blossom of blood in his mouth, the pressure ensuring a steady flow. Then he lowers his arm, the blood that drips down his hand an offering. Chay’s lips part around a ragged exhale, his fangs glinting in the low light.

Kim won’t force him to drink. He leaves the final choice to Chay. It isn’t much of a choice at all—a newly turned, starving vampire, presented with fresh blood, stands little chance at refusing. But it’s still a choice, and Kim won’t take any more of Chay’s control than he needs to.

“It’s alright,” Kim prompts when Chay still hesitates. The blood on his skin is getting sticky-dry, his wounds beginning to heal over. “You can’t hurt me.”

It’s the permission Chay needed. He sways into Kim, takes hold of his arm with bloody, clawed hands, and fastens his mouth over the bleeding wound. Kim hisses when Chay’s fangs sink into him—two heartbeats later the pulsing heat of Chay’s venom floods his body, and Kim never knew it could feel like this. Chay moans in turn, both at the taste of warm, rich blood that finally slakes his desperate thirst, and the pleasure he can feel through their bond, compounding his own. An overwhelming feedback loop that builds and builds and builds, until Kim tears himself away just before the crescendo.

They’re both breathing hard, their eyes matching pools of black.

“Kim…” Chay is dazed, listing where he kneels, blood-stained and beautiful. Kim watches Chay touch his glistening lips, his tongue following the blood. Kim wants to taste his own blood on Chay’s tongue.

Kim takes a step back. He stumbles, light-headed, his blood thrumming in his veins. He needs to leave. Takes the crystal decanter off the table as he passes because if Chay won’t drink it then he will.

Chay’s quiet, wondrous, “Thank you, P’Kim,” follows him out the door.

#cookie writes #kimchay #vampire AU #Kim was born as a vampire #turns chay into one to save his life #except #he has no idea what it's like to be turne d #so he doesn't really know how to teach Chay to be a vampire #bitten vampires are looked down on and Gun thinks it's a disgrace #he wants to kill Chay #cue arranged marriage lol #(not really but kinda)#Kim has also never let another vampire feed on him before #he was NOT prepared for how good it feels #bless him

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