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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years ago

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.33}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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They arrived in front of Morgan's private rooms a few minutes later, and it instantly sobered Robin up from her feelings of happiness and comfort that she had been able to cling onto ever since setting foot into the office earlier. If only life could always be as easy as it had seemed minutes ago, just Snape and her, and their relentless curiosity for magic and adoration for each other… But it wasn't, and both of them seemed to remember that as they stood in front of Morgan's door in silence. If they didn't find out about Morgan's reasons, didn't find out what this entire thing was about, there would be no life for Robin to lead at all.

She looked up at Snape next to her for a silent moment of gathering her wits, and his gaze spoke volumes of the same story. They could do this. They would find the bloody portrait, and then they would take the next step and the next and the next until this stupid mess was over with, until Morgan was no threat anymore. Whatever that might take. Even if it meant having to make Dumbledore their friend or enemy.

Upon a silent agreement that time was of essence, Robin got started on opening the door at last. It was warded rather heavily as she found, but that didn't stop her in the least, and on the contrary made things rather easy in return. Quite like paint that was applied in thick layers, she could peel them back and remove them all at once, even as thickly plastered as they were. A few minutes of quietly murmured spells and some trial and error later, the door swung open with a little squeaking noise and opened up the view of a perfectly ordinary, even if slightly ostentatious bed- and living room.

"I have to ask…" Robin spoke up quietly, once they had closed the door behind themselves and were now looking around the dark room with a lumos each. "Are you actually bad at breaking into places, or did you just pretend to be? Earlier today, I mean."

"I successfully worked as a spy in one of the worst wars known to wizarding history, and even beyond that, you have seen the neighborhood I grew up in. What do you think?" He asked in return, easily and without reproach, while yet he kept his focus on searching the room around them.

"Honestly, I think you could probably break into Azkaban unnoticed and back out again as well if you wanted to."

"That's perhaps a bit exaggerated, but the general sentiment is close enough."

"Then why did you want me to do it?" A small frown creased Robin's brows, as her eyes darted over the various pieces of luxurious furniture. "I'm sure you're far better at opening doors than I am."

"To humour you." Again, his reply came easily and with an almost graspable not-smirk engrained in his tone, and Robin inevitably had to smile as well while he went on. "In very much the same way you always do when you ask me to grab an item from the top shelves for you. You know as well as I do that you wouldn't even have to use your wand to collect it yourself, but instead you keep asking me to help you. Because you know how much it pleases me."

The smile on Robin's lips broadened, and finally her eyes found Snape on the other side of the room. "I had a vague idea that you knew I was doing it on purpose by now. Did you see that in my mind?"

"No. I simply know you well enough to know how well you know me."

"That's as confusing as it is amazing." She sighed with the same smile, then went back to searching the room with her eyes fixed on the shadowy corners and places. "And thank you, for humouring me. I needed it today."

For another ten minutes they searched the admittedly small chambers in well practiced collaboration, checking even the adjunct bathroom and the wardrobes, but they still came up empty handed. Robin ran a hand through her unruly hair in frustration, then looked up at Snape who was standing next to her in the open space in equal irritation. "The bloody portrait has to be here. It wasn't in the classroom nor in the office, so it just needs to be here. There's no other possibility!"

"Considering how… frequented Morgan's quarters are by visitors of various kinds, it would only seem logical that he hid it well enough to not be found by guests on accident, but close enough to retrieve for his private moments."

"Ugh…" Robin shuddered while pulling a face. "It's not your fault, but any way to phrase it just sounds disgusting to me."

"I try to ignore that as best as possible. But the facts remain as they are, and I believe he hid it in close reach. The question remains as to where."

"Let's see… Perhaps we have to think like Morgan if we want to find the stupid thing." She suggested, and upon Snape's attentive yet expectant expression, she elaborated as silently demanded. "If I was Morgan, a wizard of thirty something years who is obsessed with a girl who is my student and who I happen to have a painting of… I would put it in a place where I often see it. I would be a lazy arse, but clever enough to still get my way; which means I would hide it somewhere where I don't have to move it, only conceal it."

"Sounds reasonable."

"And if I was Morgan, I would put it in a place where I can enjoy it while following my daily routine, since I would always be short of time and everything else would be too much of a hassle."

"Still reasonable."

"So… where in my chambers would I spend a lot of time?" Robin frowned to herself, then started sauntering through the room once more. "The desk, perhaps. I would always be working here instead of my office."

"But would you, as Morgan, not choose a place to display it that doesn't demand a constant split of attention? Having the portrait near the desk would pose a terrible distraction from your work. And as much as I hate the man, he always finishes his grading and other work neatly and in time." Snape commented in return, and Robin found herself nodding along as she trailed away from the desk again.

"True, I wouldn't be able to focus if I was constantly tempted to look at something I am obsessed with. And I would be terrible at controlling my own impulses. So… where else would I spend a lot of time by myself? What would I like doing in my free time?" She sauntered over to the small sitting area in the far corner, frowning to herself in contemplation. "Reading, perhaps?"

"You really don't have the slightest idea about what goes on in the mind of the average male, regardless of age, do you?"

Robin turned back around to Snape with a scoff, a half smirk and one raised eyebrow. "But you do? I can hardly imagine that."

"I was unfortunate enough to live with a hoard of them back in my school days." He scoffed at the memory, rolling his eyes to himself before he continued on in obvious disdain for what he was saying. "Perhaps Morgan was taking a literal approach with his words about looking at the painting each morning and each night. Perhaps, he hid it in the very place where he spends his every morning and night indeed."

"You don't mean-... No. No…"

"I wish I could hope I'm wrong." The gravity of Snape's tone made Robin shudder a little, or perhaps it simply was the idea he was so subtly presenting, but she took a deep breath anyway and walked over to the large four-poster bed in determination. That same model seemed to be a staple for all staff rooms, and if Morgan had hidden the portrait there, she would find it.

Indeed, after a moment of pushing through the queasy and awkward feeling of searching the vile man's bed, Robin finally found what she was looking for. Hidden under the roof of the canopy, concealed and fixated in place with some subtle charms work, was the portrait that she had last laid eyes upon in her fourth year. The almost perfect image of herself, the eerie similarity that now was almost absolute, hidden in such a place for only Morgan's eyes to devour at his fancy. Robin felt sick at the thought, her stomach churning, and even the last hairs in her neck were standing upright now. Morgan really hadn't been joking about his literal need for her… she suppressed the need to gag, which was only followed by another unpleasant shiver. This was worse than any amount of blood had ever made her feel.

"I, uh… I found the portrait." She finally managed to speak out loud without the bile rising in her throat, and after another few seconds of staring at the bloody thing that still looked just like she remembered, she added, "The… other me really doesn't have earrings, just as we thought, but otherwise she could be my mirror image. Well, if I had lived a couple hundred years ago, that is."

Her words faded, but even after multiple moments of silence she still received no answer, nor did she hear Snape coming any closer to look at her findings for himself. With a confused frown, Robin turned to look through the open room behind her only to find him lingering by the desk now, a deep frown plastered on his own face as he inspected a dark brown wooden box in front of him in silence. Again, as so often, his expression and body language spoke volumes, this time of weariness and caution.

"Sev? What's wrong?" Robin couldn't keep the concern out of her voice as she skipped over to the other side of the room to stand beside him in an instant. For a moment she followed his gaze to the intricately decorated box on the tabletop. It was an intriguingly unique piece, even if Snape seemed to be rather lost in thought than to be studying the object itself, and she finally looked back up at him with unease written all over her features when he still didn't reply. "Talk to me. Please."

"I believe to have seen this very object in the headmaster's office before… Years ago, when I was a student, and again and again when I started teaching, but not any time recently. In one of the shelves in the far back of the room where all the important artefacts are stored, far out of everyone's reach." He answered at last, obviously lost in thought and consideration, which didn't do much to calm Robin's uproaring nervousness. If Snape was concerned, she should be double as much.

"Do you know what's inside?" She finally dared to ask, and while she wasn't sure if she even wanted to know the answer, she suddenly was very certain that whatever the box held would bring them closer to solving the mystery around Morgan and the Portrait. It had to, everything else just wouldn't make sense. But perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

"I have no idea." He mused, seconds before casting a detection charm for curses and dark magic over the object, only to have it come back negative. "But we should certainly take a look. Out of all the bizarre objects in Morgan's room, this is perhaps the second most curious after the portrait."

"Why do you think that?"

"Have you ever in the entire castle seen an object that required a key and not magic to unlock it?" He finally turned to Robin, then motioned to the box once more while his eyes stayed on her though. Frowning to herself, Robin leaned down closer towards the box and held her wand so that she could properly study the object in question with sufficient light. Indeed, there was a keyhole on the lid. Something she hadn't seen in use in the longest time. For a few minutes she tried every spell to open the box she had at her disposal, then however gave up in the light of her company's greater knowledge of such spellwork.

"That really is curious." She said as she straightened her back once more. "Do you want to try?"

"I already have."

"And?"

"There is nothing to be done without the corresponding key. It seems to be entirely unaffected by magic in general. And knowing who the box belonged to, it likely wouldn't do to simply break it open either."

"Pity." Robin sighed, stemming her hands into her hips as she thought. If the box really had been among the important artefacts in the headmaster's office for at least ten years and had still been there when Snape started teaching, then it must have not been in Morgan's possession much longer than the portrait. But if-...

"I can feel you thinking, Robin." Snape interrupted her thoughts before she really could get going deeper. "And usually that results in some brilliant revelation. Enlighten me, yes?"

"Right…" She breathed, nodding both to him and herself. "I was just thinking, if the box was in the headmaster's office from possibly before the time you started school until roughly when you started teaching, then it can't belong to Morgan and also can't have been in his possession for long."

"The latter is obvious, but what brings you to assume the former?"

"Well, when you started school at the tender age of eleven, then Morgan must've been like what, sixteen? Seventeen?" She reasoned, more guessing than knowing, but the point stood nonetheless. "Either way, as you previously pointed out, he is quite the ordinary male with an ordinary mind."

"That we have yet to determine for certain."

"I'm not talking about him going crazy over me, that's another issue entirely so let's just ignore that for a second. What I mean is that at whatever age he was when you started school, he was still a teenager. And how likely is it that a normal teenager possesses artifacts that are important enough to make the headmaster's top shelf?"

"I see your point." Snape mused, frowning to himself again for a moment. "In that case Dumbledore must have given it to him deliberately, at a point in time after I started teaching even though there does not seem to be an apparent reason for that particular timing. Which in return makes it highly unlikely that the contents of this box don't correlate to the portrait in some way."

"Precisely my line of thought."

"That makes it all the more important to find a way to open this crude thing now." He grumbled to himself and went back to studying the box intently. "Obviously Morgan will possess the key, but I sincerely doubt that Dumbledore doesn't still have one as well. He wouldn't part from anything of relevance without precautions."

"Wait, so there can be more than one key?" Robin's mind came to a sudden halt, then toppled over some more and finally changed direction. "I was under the impression that Morgan would logically have the only one."

"I see no reason why there couldn't be more than one. Creating them certainly must be a difficult procedure, but not impossible to replicate over and over again if desired."

"Oh gods…" Her voice grew shallow as her heartbeat sped up in an instant, followed by a cold rush of adrenaline while she mentally chastised herself. They had a lock without a key. She had a key without a lock. How stupid could she be not to make that connection sooner?!

"Minerva's key. Of course…" He came to the same conclusion as her then, eyes widening every so slightly as he watched Robin fumbling with her locket with slightly shaking hands. She had too much adrenaline in her body for anything else, was too exhausted and anxious… But this had to be the reason why McGonagall had given her a key for her birthday, and why she'd been so insistent on it that Robin kept it a secret. She had another key to this box, a key that wasn't supposed to exist.

"Fingers crossed…" Robin said under her breath as she finally put the small piece of metal to good use at last. It fit into the lock easily, and with a weary look up at Snape, Robin finally twisted it in one swift move. It obliged without resistance, and she pulled her hand back as if burnt when not one metallic clicking was heard from inside the box, but multiple in a row. Oh gods, hopefully she hadn't just set off some trap or self destruction or anything of the likes… But after a few seconds, the sounds faded, and the box sat still and innocently as ever on the desk before them.

"Do you wish to open it or shall I?" Snape asked quietly, but even he didn't dare to take his eyes off the box now.

"I'll open it, and you make sure that nothing jumps at me. Like always, yes?" She propositioned, nodding to herself to perhaps shake some of the fear out of her head. This was a good idea… she just needed to make herself believe that now. "We've been in plenty of situations like this before, haven't we? I go off to inspect some potentially dangerous thing, and you make sure I survive it. Isn't that what we always do when we go hunting for ingredients?"

"It is similar enough, yes."

"Good…" She took a deep breath, then placed her hand on top of the lid and looked over at Snape once more for a confirmation of what she was about to do. He motioned for her to go ahead, and after another second of hesitation, Robin finally had enough of herself and flipped the stupid box open with a start.

Nothing jumped at her, nor did she seem to have set off any kind of follow-up spells. It simply was a box, admittedly larger on the inside than the outside, but Robin barely took notice of that any longer, seeing how most of her own boxes and bags were graced with the same magic. What did surprise her however were the contents the box in front of her held now, in all their striking unspectacularity. A look at Snape confirmed that he shared that sentiment to the fullest. They had expected anything at this point… but not just a gigantic stack of parchments, ranging from literally ancient to almost modern.

"Well, at least we have something to look into now…" Robin sighed to herself as she frowned down at the pile of paper in front of her. "There has to be some kind of important information written on these, or nobody would've bothered hiding them that well. They will either give us answers, or leverage on Dumbledore who in return can give us answers."

"Indeed… However this is hardly the time nor place to look through an epos of loose leaf parchments." Snape said in argument with circumstance, which made Robin look up at him again while raising her eyebrows.

"Do you really think we should just take the box? Morgan will notice for sure, and then it won't be hard to guess for him who took it."

"I think we should take the parchments." He returned easily, then motioned to the object in front of them once more. "The lid had a thin layer of dust on it already, which means that Morgan likely knows the contents of these papers at this point and therefore has no need to open the box again any time soon. If we leave the box where it is, and with a bit of luck, he won't notice the papers' absence until we long have the information we need. Until we are ready to face him on equal grounds."

"Clever." Robin replied with a half smile. "As always."

Snape merely rolled his eyes in that exaggerated manner that humour her so much, then they finally went to gather up the papers into a portable pile in his arms. Half a minute later, Robin locked the box back up with her key, then hid the latter back inside her locket.

"What about the portrait?" She asked as they made for the door at last, after having spent decidedly too much time in Morgan's quarters already. "It feels wrong to leave it here, in that place… I know we have to, but it makes me feel sick nonetheless."

"As much as it bothers me, I'm afraid we have to leave it where it is indeed." He answered, then his voice turned into more of a growl than the rich silk it usually was. "But don't believe for even a second that I wouldn't gladly end his pathetic existence for lusting after you like this."

"Because I'm yours and only yours?" She couldn't help asking with a small smile, while she peeked out through the door into the empty hallways first before opening it further for him as well.

"Because you deserve better than that."

"But also because I'm yours."

"Yes."

"You really can't deny that you are quite territorial, you know…"

"I would rather call it protective than territorial."

"Same thing."

"Does it bother you?" He inquired calmly but in seriousness, looking down at Robin over the papers in his arms expectantly.

"Rather on the contrary." She replied with a small but affectionate smile. "It makes me feel almost too giddy with pride and adoration. I just wish you could show a little more of that in public too; would certainly keep the right people from bothering me. Oh well… I wish."

"Believe me, so do I." He sighed in return, then took another look inside Morgan's room once they both stood in the hallway. "Let us hope he will be too drunk upon his return to notice the traces we left."

"Or… I could turn back the time inside the room to before we arrived?" Robin suggested more than asked with a hopeful and pointedly innocent expression. "You know I can freeze objects in time… And I'm actually quite sure that I can turn time back in a limited space just as easily, as long as there are no people inside. That's way more difficult, or rather impossible without a timeturner."

"You are aware that technically tampering with time is forbidden in any regard, yes?"

"So is breaking into a professor's private chambers and stealing his papers."

For half a second Snape seemed to freeze in his protest, then a not-smirk tugged on his lips and he shrugged as far as his arms full of parchments allowed. "I ran out of arguments. Go ahead."

A mirroring smirk played on Robin's lips for a moment, then she took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand. She'd read more about messing with time than she should probably admit, going through the entire restricted section of the library without anyone ever putting a stop to her efforts. Really, all the fun magic was in the restricted section anyway. Everything that was worth learning about. The part about potions and herbology she'd already finished years ago, then the dark arts had followed a long time prior as well, and now finally she had moved on to researching charms, also in regards to the still impending NEWTs.

It took two attempts to cast the difficult spell successfully, but then the room looked precisely how it had before they had entered. Even the layer of dust on the box was back in place and undisturbed by fingerprints. Content with her efforts, Robin finally closed the door and placed the same wards on it that she had removed upon their arrival.

"Do you know what truly is a shame?" Snape asked after a moment, while they quietly made their way back through the dark hallways and down a few stories.

"Quite many things, but please, do enlighten me."

"That neither Morgan nor Flitwick will ever know how ridiculously talented you are in their subjects."

Robin let out a humoured huff in replacement for a certainly too loud chuckle. "Oh, I think Morgan does know at this point. I managed to fend him and his best efforts off after all, even if just barely. Isn't that what defense class is about?"

"About fending off your crazy professor? I certainly hope not."

Now Robin did snort a little, even though the topic itself should have been rather depressing. "It's ironic that I have to defend myself against him with defenses that he himself has taught me. Or rather I would have to, if I hadn't read so much more about the dark arts in advance. What truly saved me today wasn't anything I learned in defense class… but rather the things I came up with myself, or what you showed me. Things Morgan didn't see coming."

"And therefore my point stands."

"How so?"

"Well, any idiot can learn the textbook by heart and master the school taught spells."

"Most idiots can't, in fact, as you very well know. They're far too narrow minded to even accomplish such a thing, and-..."

"Anyway…" He went on, in a manner that reminded Robin an awful lot of her own mannerisms, but she gave him that and let him go on. "What makes you such a brilliant witch and not just an outstanding student is that you don't even try to stay within the given boundaries. Most of the things you excel at are either straight out illegal for most people, or at least so far out of the school curriculum that your teachers will never know what you truly can do."

"I don't really mind." Robin shrugged in return. "It's a good thing that Morgan doesn't know me well enough to know what I can do. That's my only advantage over him."

"I certainly agree with that assessment. Perhaps once Morgan isn't an issue anymore we can see to it that you get the recognition you deserve."

"I just want to ace my NEWTs and move on to more interesting matters of study once and for all. I don't need anyone's recognition. The only person I ever actually tried to impress is you, and that seems to have worked out for me just fine." She replied with a small smirk, which earned her another of those lovely feignedly annoyed expressions in return. They both knew she was right though, she had impressed him so many times and likely always would, and it had indeed worked out in both their favour. And, almost needles to say at this point, Robin felt like they both were equally proud of that fact after all.

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caye-otome-translations · 4 years ago

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100 Days Princess Event - Royal Prince Stage Episode 02 (Translated)

Quick Links:

Events Page

Prologue

Previous: Episode 01

Next: Episode 03

Louis Howard’s Route

Giles Christophe’s Route

Notes:

I have edited the prologue to include the preview for Part 2! If you want to know what the other six’s stories are I recommend checking that out!

Byron Wagner’s Route Episode 02 Part 01/05

MC: “Byron-san has been offered a modeling gig.”

Byron: “Modeling gig for what?”

MC: “It's for a new perfume brand recently launched by a famous cosmetics company.”

MC: “I'm sure they have a website…”

I took out the laptop from my bag and searched up the perfume.

MC: “Yes, there it is!”

As I showed them the website on the screen, they spoke.

Byron: “‘This forbidden scent will attract the man you love’”...? *Top Left Picture*

MC: “That's the brand concept.”

MC: “Their brand image is that their scent will make men fall in love with the user.”

Louis: “Isn’t this a perfume for women?”

Byron: “Why was I considered to model for it?”

(Their confusion is understandable.)

It wasn’t often men were selected as models for women’s perfume.

MC: “I was wondering the same thing, so I asked why…”

I paused and stared at Byron-san.

MC: “It seems that there are rumors floating around about Byron-san that fit the concept of their brand.”

Byron: “Rumors…?”

Louis: “Do you mean that one rumor people have been saying...? ‘The ice-cold idol’s heart has melted and fallen in love’?” *Top Right Picture*

MC: “Yes, that’s the one.”

Byron: “That’s what people have been saying about me?”

Louis: “You haven’t heard about it?”

Louis: “Everyone has been wondering what has changed with Byron’s attitude lately.”

Louis: “They all think it’s because you’ve found a lover.”

Byron: “...Ah, so that’s why?”

Byron-san, who was never good at expressing his emotions, was known as “the ice-cold idol” by the public.

(But recently he has been showing softer expressions...)

(It’s rumored that “the ice-cold idol’s heart has melted and fallen in love.”)

This reputation surrounding Byron-san apparently was a perfect fit for the concept of a perfume that made men fall in love with the user.

Louis: “Byron-san, I always wanted to know the truth from you…”

Louis: “Are the rumors true?”

Byron Wagner’s Route Episode 02 Part 02/05

Louis: “Are the rumors true?”

Byron: “...I couldn’t say.”

Byron-san instinctively casted his eyes on me.

(It’s true… Byron-san does have a secret lover.)

(We’ve been keeping it on the down low, but Byron’s lover… is me.)

Only a few people knew that we were together.

The reason why we hid our relationship from the public was to avoid any scandals.

(We are close to Louis, so I think it’s okay for us to tell him the truth...)

(But if Byron-san doesn’t want to, I’ll keep silent.)

Byron: “—MC.”

Byron-san stared straight at me.

Byron: “I will accept the modeling offer.”

MC: “Are you okay with that?”

Byron: “I have no reason to decline.”

MC: “Thank you! I will let them know.”

Byron: “Okay.”

Byron-san smiled softly.

That alone ignited a sweet warmth in my heart.

(The love between an agent and their idol is not commonly accepted...)

Our feelings of love were not something that could be suppressed, though.

***

—...A few weeks later.

Byron-san had accepted the modeling role for the perfume brand.

They immediately wanted to shoot the commercial.

(Anyways...)

Albert: “This company has an eye for using Byron-sama as a model.”

Nico: “But we’ll be with Byron-sama for our next project.”

Nico: “Al came all this way for a tour, but he just really loves Byron-sama.” *1st Middle Left Picture*

Albert: “Don’t say that to people!”

Nico: “Well, it’s the truth!”

(It’s always lively with these two.)

Byron-san had even made an acronym with each of their initials.

He primarily belonged to an idol group known as “ABN.” (TN: “AXY” with their JP names)

Albert-san and Nico were also members of the group. *1st Middle Right Picture*

(All three of them were childhood friends before they became idols together.)

(They’re all really close…)

As I watched Nico and Albert-san’s exchange with a smile, one member of the crew called out.

Crew Member: “Byron-san, please get ready!”

Byron: “Alright.”

As Byron-san replied to the crew member, tension filled the room immediately.

(It’s always like this with Byron-san…)

(Whenever he enters the room, the air changes.)

My eyes met with Byron-san’s as he walked in front of the camera…

Byron: “...”

(...!)

*princess check*

Byron Wagner’s Route Episode 02 Part 03/05

As Byron-san replied to the crew member, tension filled the room immediately.

(It’s always like this with Byron-san…)

(Whenever he enters the room, the air changes.)

My eyes met with Byron-san’s as he walked in front of the camera…

Byron: “...” *2nd Middle Left Picture*

(...!)

He briefly smiled at me, making my heart go crazy.

(He caught me off guard…)

Crew Member: “Let's go live!”

(...Now isn’t the time to be distracted. This shoot must go well.)

***

—...After the shooting.

(Byron-san’s shoot went very well...)

I sighed subconsciously…

Nico: “MC-san?”

Albert: “Are you okay?”

MC: “Huh…?”

I came back to myself when Nico and Albert-san spoke to me.

Nico: “You spaced out for a second there.”

Nico: “Maybe it was because you were too fascinated by Byron-san?”

MC: “...”

Nico: “Ah, you can tell us.”

(Nico and Albert-san already know about us, so it’s no use denying it, is there...?)

MC: “Y-yes…”

(I couldn't take my eyes off of him during his shooting.)

The commercial was about Byron-san following the scent of the perfume into a room.

Once there, he had touched some petals and gently hugged them to his chest as if they were a woman he was holding instead.

(It was short and nothing too special...)

(But each movement he made caught my eye.)

MC: “I've always known that he was an attractive man who easily captured people’s attention...”

MC: “But recently, I can’t help but feel even more attracted to him than before.”

Albert: “This is just proof that you now have a better understanding of Byron-sama's charm—” *2nd Middle Right Picture*

Nico: “Could that be what MC-san’s problem is?”

Interrupting Albert-san, Nico pointed to the center of my chest with his finger.

MC: “You think it means I’m crazy in love with him…?”

Nico: “Yes, yes.”

(...Maybe it’s as Nico says.)

(Is it proof that I am in love with him?)

As I thought about that…

Byron: “What are you talking about?”

Byron Wagner’s Route Episode 02 Part 04/05

Byron: “What are you talking about?”

MC: “...! Byron-san…”

Before I knew it, Byron-san was right next to my side.

Byron: “It looked like you three were having a lot of fun.” *3rd Middle Left Picture*

MC: “I-it was nothing important.”

(I can't just simply tell Byron-san that I was fascinated by him...)

MC: “Thank you for doing the shoot.”

Byron: “You’re welcome.”

MC: “Byron-san was very cool. It will surely be a wonderful commercial.”

Byron: “I hope so.” *3rd Middle Right Picture*

I relaxed my expression at Byron-san’s smile…

MC: “...?”

I suddenly felt a sharp gaze on me, and I looked back.

Byron: “What’s wrong?”

MC: “It felt like someone was watching me just now…”

However, there was no one around who was looking at us.

MC: “Sorry, it seems like it was just my imagination...”

Albert: “...It wasn’t your imagination.”

MC: “Huh?”

Albert-san looked at the assistant director with a rugged expression.

Albert: “That one crew member…”

Nico: “What do you know about him?”

Albert: “I don’t know very much, but what I do know is that assistant director has rather close ties to a reporter of a weekly magazine.”

Byron: “How can you be certain?”

Albert: “I always investigate everything that could be harmful to Byron-sama.”

MC: “What’s wrong with the assistant director?”

Albert: “A reporter of a weekly magazine having connections with an assistant director can’t mean anything good.”

(Albert-san is very vigilant...)

(I wonder if the assistant director has sold any information to that weekly magazine.)

If the gaze I felt on me earlier was not my imagination, then they were…

*princess check*

Byron Wagner’s Route Episode 02 Part 05/05

Albert: “A reporter of a weekly magazine having connections with an assistant director can’t mean anything good.”

(Albert-san is very vigilant...) *Bottom Left Picture*

(I wonder if the assistant director has sold any information to the weekly magazine.)

If the gaze I felt on me earlier was not my imagination, then they were…

(No way, they were spying on Byron-san…?)

When I looked up, Byron-san narrowed his eyes.

Byron: “Lately, more and more people have been trying to verify the truth of the rumors.”

Byron: “It seems the number of weekly magazine reporters have been increasing around me.”

Nico: “I can't get rid of them even on sets where only cast and crew can enter.”

Albert: “Please be careful, too.” *Bottom Right Picture*

MC: “I will…”

(If we are not careful, we’ll soon be in the middle of a scandal.)

I turned my eyes to where the assistant director was, but he had disappeared.

***

—...A few days later.

I visited Byron-san’s dressing room where he was preparing to record a TV program.

MC: “Byron-san, I have a delivery for you.”

Byron: “What is it...?”

#100 days princess #midnight cinderella #byron wagner #xeno gerald #royal prince stage #otome #translation #event #3rd anniversary #episode 2

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thdorkmagnet · 5 years ago

Text

Where in the World is Janna Ordonia?

Hello everyone! Here is my Carmen Sandiego AU/ Master Theif Janna AU, whichever you want to call it! So this is, as you probably guessed, inspired by the new Netflix series "Carmen Sandiego". Ever since I watched the first episode I've been picturing Janna filling this role so much and I just had to write it! But I did change some things around from the show like making Janna a straight up thief rather than a thief who only steals from other thieves. This will also be a Jantom fic since I don't think there are nearly enough of those out there right now and I wanted to help add to the collection. This ship needs more love!

Also big shout out to Andychipss for the awesome cover art! If you get a chance check her out over on Instagram! She always does an incredible job!

Disclaimer: Star vs and all its characters belong to Daron Nefcy and Disney. Carmen Sandiego belongs to Broderbund Software, Netflix and Lauren Elliott. All right go to them.

The city of lights was dazzling that particular evening, its namesake casting a brilliant and beautiful glow across all of Paris. Even the dark corners seemed to hold a life to them, making the whole city feel as peaceful and romantic as they say. And on one particular rooftop stretching high above the paved streets below stood a young woman. She wore a black long-sleeve shirt with matching pants and long black boots, giving her the outward appearance of a shadow herself. But blending in would be rather difficult for her since over that she wore a bright red trench coat and matching fedora. Her short dark hair hung slightly out from beneath her hat. She had tanned skin and brown eyes. Her appearance was eye-catching that was for sure, which was why it was a strange choice of attire coming from one of the most elusive and legendary thieves in the world. Her name which was known across the world was Janna Ordonia, the Scarlet Thief.

The girl looked coolly out from under the brim of her hat, holding a pair of small binoculars to her eyes. From her sight, she spotted her next target up ahead, a museum. She watched as some security guards made their rounds, in the exact pattern she memorized over the last few days of staking the place out. "Predictable," she sighed slipping the pocket-sized spying device into her coat pocket. "I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge," she groaned in boredom.

"Well y'know, you could wait until Acme shows up," came a voice from inside the communication device in her ear. "You know some of their agents are on your trail since you set fire to that shop earlier today." His voice was accusing now, clearly trying to make her feel guilty for her crime.

But Janna was unaffected by the attempt, saying plainly, "Come on, Alfonso, I can hardly be blamed for that, they were asking for it."

"How?" Alfonso asked in exasperation.

"Charging 30 bucks for a stupid model of the Eiffel tower is insane!" Janna scoffed. "And they call me a thief."

The young hacker just sighed burying his head in his hands. "Anyways, am I all clear to head inside?" Janna asked returning the conversation back to the task at hand.

Alfonso complied, doing a few keystrokes on his computer, but still grumbling under his breath in annoyance. "Yeah, hang on," he mumbled, shutting down all security in the museum as if it were no big deal. "There, done. But you better do this job fast before someone realizes it's down."

"Hey no problem, fast is my middle name," Janna said, doing a quick stretch to loosen up her muscles. It was important to stay flexible in this line of work.

"I thought you didn't have a middle name," Alfonso pointed out.

"Well I just gave myself one," the girl replied, before leaping off the roof. As she fell she whipped out a grappling gun she kept in her sleeve, firing it and attaching it to another building's side. She felt the string go taint as she sailed around the side of the building, detaching it fluidly off the wall before flying into an opened window and right into the museum.

Her feet hit smooth tile as she tried to slide to a delicate stop. But she didn't predict her momentum correctly as she stopped just short of hitting a wall and knocking a small pedestal holding some priceless vase on it. Janna didn't even have time to dive for it before it hit the floor and shattered into a million pieces. The young thief sucked in a breath waiting to see if the loud noise had attracted any guards, but after a couple beats of silence, Janna declared it a false alarm and let her body relax once more.

Alfonso, however, was less calm, as his squeaky voice spoke up from Janna's earpiece, "What was that noise?! Janna did you break something!"

Janna scoffed, kicking the fragmented pieces under a nearby fancy rug. "Aw, relax I'm sure it wasn't that important."

"Janna!" The young hacker screamed and the girl was tempted to take the earpiece off to avoid the inevitable rant but settled for merely reminding her friend, "Better keep your voice down, Al. Wouldn't want to wake your roommate."

The audible groan through the earpiece was her reward as she sauntered superiorly though the quiet museum, keeping her eyes peeled for her target. Alfonso's roommate Ferguson often got on the young hacker's nerve, especially when they were on a caper. The loudmouthed teen seemed to have no self-control as he would frequently butt in and distract Al while he was trying to hack, getting overeager and nosy over what the two were doing (treating it more like a game than a life or death situation), and just being a general nuisance, which frayed Alfonso's last nerve. But this seemed to do the trick as the boy stopped with his incessant whining and Janna was able to enjoy a couple minutes of silence, taking everything in. She walked with practiced ease through the marble halls, making sure her footsteps made no sound as she traveled deeper inside. Her brown eyes scanned the area, alert and precise, despite her relaxed posture, taking in slow breaths of musty air.

She always loved being in a dark museum at night, the empty and quiet always soothing to her. As much as she loved chaos, even Janna couldn't deny how beautiful and simplistic a simple trip through the abandoned hallways could be. It was like looking into a hidden world, a peek behind the curtains. During the day, the museum was close to bursting with tourists and tour groups and kids on school field trips, making the experience feel cheapened and hallow. But at night, that was when the museum could truly be itself, no lights, no spectacles, no overzealous explanations of what made its contents art, it could just exist and allow its art to speak for itself. And that was something Janna could relate too.

Her eyes glance lazily around at the paintings and sculptures and all forms of artistic achievements, each one a masterpiece in its own right and each one probably worth a fortune. But none of them were what she was looking for. She had a much bigger prize in mind.

The girl came to a stop in front of a large painting, the image a portrait of a sailor, the delicate paint strokes perfectly encapsulating the man's gruff demeanor. Janna cocked her head to the side as if admiring it closely as she said into her earpiece, "Alfonso, I'm at the painting."

"Great, the panel should be behind it, I've overwritten the security codes but you'll have to pick the lock yourself," the hacker replied, all business now.

Janna smiled mischievously. "Not a problem." She took a step closer to the painting, saying softly to the image, "Sorry about this, captain." She gently grabbed the painting's frame, lifting it off its hook and moving it as carefully and quietly as she could. As she did she noticed that her eyes were now level with the deep angry eyes of the painting and she muttered under her breath, "Hey, don't give me that look. You brought this on yourself." Without another word, she set the painting down on the opposite wall, before turning back to her next objective. It was a small safe, made of thick unbreakable metal, and Janna could see it had two sets of locks on its smooth surface, an electronic lock with a small series of buttons and a panel, as well as a combination lock next to it. On closer inspection, Janna could see that Alfonso had already done his part, the panel flashing the word "Entry". Now all that was left was for Janna to do her part.

Janna cracked her knuckles, flexing them a little to make sure they were nice and loose. She carefully grabbed hold of the small turn-style knob, putting her ear up to the door as she began to ever so slowly move the knob left. Soon she heard a click echo through the cold metal and smiled, immediately turning the knob the other way, waiting for the next click to sound. She continued on with this meticulous task, making sure to move slowly and preciously with each turn of the dial. Until finally, the last click sounded and she took a step away, whispering smugly, "Child's play."

With one swift motion, she turned the handle and pulled the safe door open, staring inside with a victorious smile. Inside the small metal box sat a plain black briefcase with a simple lock that took the highly skilled Janna only a minute to pick. She flicked up the latches before opening the container, wanting to make sure she had the correct package. And just as she had predicted inside sat a small golden statue sealed tight in the foam covering they had carefully placed around it so it wouldn't be jolted or damaged. The statue was in the shape of a woman, a ballerina, her arms raised in a graceful and beautiful pirouette.

"Is it there?" Al asked nervously, he always got anxious when he couldn't identify the item firsthand.

Janna whistled, eying the statue closely as she muttered under her breath, "Oh it's here all right."

The young hacker let out a sigh of relief, before saying, "Good."

"Must be pretty special if our client wants it so badly," Janna commented.

"The Golden Dancer is one of the rarest statues in the world. It is one of a set of three identical statues kept in hidden locations around the globe. They originated in-"

"Geez, Professor Al, I didn't ask for the history lesson," Janna interrupted, sealing the briefcase back up and closing the safe. It was time to cover her tracks. Hopefully, no one would even notice it was even missing, at least for a while.

Alfonso let out a groan of annoyance but decided to change the subject, informing the girl instead, "Okay Janna, you'll need to be extra careful moving around the statue, we don't want to risk damaging it."

"Come on, Al, we've worked together for how long now?" Janna told him, setting the large painting back in its place from before. "Don't you know me better than that by now."

"The fact that I know you so well is exactly why I said something," Alfonso deadpanned.

Janna made a hurt scoff into the tiny device, telling him, "Well that's just rude." Her face showed a different story though, as she just smirked and nodded in satisfaction at her work. The painting was now perfectly aligned on the wall again, not an inch of it out of place, you couldn't even tell it had been moved at all. She picked up the briefcase, saying smugly, "Okay, now I think it's about time for my dramatic exit."

Just then a loud shout sounded from elsewhere in the museum, the echoed voice bouncing around the walls and Janna turned to it with a start. "Jan, what was that?" a nervous voice asked in her ear, Alfonso clearly hearing the voice too.

Janna, however, just whispered softly to herself, "Hmm, I was wondering when they'd show." Her smirk widened as she added, "This should be fun."

…

The two Acme agents walked side by side through the dark museum, both on high alert, their eyes darting as they meticulously searched the room for any threats. Well the young man was, the other seemed too entranced by every painting, sculpture, and statue they came across, her blue eyes gleaming with admiration as she looked over each piece of art. This wasn't the only contrast between the two, the two seeming to be as different as night and day, despite their similar style. Both wore fancy black suits (the standard for all Acme agents) but where the boy's was well-pressed and had not a crease out of place, the girl's was wrinkled in a few places but still quite beautiful on her slim frame. The man's short spiky brown hair was perfectly styled and lay even on his tanned face, his brown eyes narrowed in grim determination, which was almost thwarted by the adorable mole just under his left eye. His blood-red tie was a stark contrast to the pure white dress shirt he wore underneath his suit. The girl's long blond locks seemed to almost flow down her back, a small blue butterfly clip resting just above her bangs. She had on a carefree smile and walked with a noticeable skip in her step. She had on a dark blue tie and wore a black skirt and dark blue stockings rather than the dress pants of her partner. The only similarity the two seemed to share were the matching golden rings they both wore on their right hands.

"Do you really think someone is in here, Marco?" the blond asked, her eyes still gazing around in curious innocence.

"Well according to our intel-" the boy began.

"Meaning you," his partner interrupted, giving him a teasing look.

Marco smiled and blushed slightly. "Well, yeah. I mean, I am a man of many talents." He cleared his throat, willing away his blush before continuing in a matter-of-fact tone, "Anyways, Star, I heard news that the Scarlet thief was recently spotted in this area earlier today after setting fire to a local shop..."

"Classic Janna," Star commented.

"And then the whole security grid for the museum just happens to go offline the same day," Marco continued. "A place where they are keeping one of the rarest and most priceless statues in the world, mind you. Seems just a bit too suspicious if you ask me."

Star shrugged, saying, "Makes sense to me."

"In fact, Janna is probably in here right now, so we need to stay focused and not get distracted by anything."

"Got it," Star said, doing a small salute. But as she turned her head she let out a small gasp, grabbing onto her partner's arm and squealing, "Oh my gosh, Marco. Look at that adorable painting of a kitty! I have to take a picture of it!" the girl pulled out her phone but it was quickly snatched out of her grip.

"Star," Marco scolded, pulling his arm free of his girlfriend's surprisingly strong grip. "We aren't tourists, we have a job to do, remember?"

"Okay..." the girl muttered, giving him a pouting look that caused Marco's stomach to do flips at how adorable she looked. But he held back his coo as he simply nodded and told her, "Good."

The two had only gone a few more steps before something new caught Star's eye, the girl saying, "Look Marco it's a unicorn vase, ooohhh I want one!"

"Starrrr," the boy said, gaining the girl's attention before gently reminding her, "Focus."

"Right, right," Star said, nodding, her eyebrow now furrowed in determination. "Focus, I got this."

The two continued on a few more steps only for Star to gasp in shock again, causing Marco to sigh in annoyance. "What is it now?" he asked in defeat. Star quickly pointed up at one of the large statues towering over them. A big, hulking ox looking thing with an angry expression on its stone face. "Oh my gosh, Marco that statue guy looks just like you!"

"What, that looks nothing like me?!" the boy exclaimed, putting his hands on his hips as he gave the girl an angry glare.

Star had to fight to hold in her laughter as the boy's expression and demeanor matched the statue creature perfectly, the girl barely managing to stifle her chuckle by slapping a hand over her mouth.

"I don't know, Marco, I think it's pretty spot on?" a voice said behind the pair, and Star and Marco both turned to see Janna staring down at them from the floor above, leaning against the railing with a casual ease.

"Janna," Marco growled under his breath, reaching into his jacket pocket and whipping out his stun gun. He aimed it up at the thief, shouting out, "Don't move!" Star did the same next to him, yelling up at their target, "Hands in the air!"

"Well, which is it?" Janna asked, an eyebrow slowly raising but making no sign of complying.

The two agents shared a look, their cheeks now slightly pink, before Marco said in slight annoyance, "Just stay where you are."

"Sure, no problem there," Janna said, leaning a little heavier on her arm. "I'm quite comfortable up here."

"Well hopefully you'll be just as comfortable in prison, cause that's where you're headed, Janna Ordonia," Marco commented bitterly.

Janna scoffed, shaking her head. "I see you haven't changed any, Diaz." She paused looking over at Star before asking, "So how have you been, Star?"

"Oh, I'm great," Star replied brightly.

"Hey, don't change the subject!" Marco shouted.

"What? I'm just seeing how you two have been. It's been a couple of months since the last time we hung out, after all."

"If by 'hung out' you mean you swiping my wallet and using it to buy drinks for every pub in Ireland," Marco muttered in annoyance.

"Hey, you should be thanking me, you're a local hero there, now," Janna replied.

Marco's eyebrow twitched, but he said nothing more. There was never any point in fighting with Janna.

"Look, Janna," Star took over, picking up on her boyfriend's increasing annoyance. "We all know you stole something from the museum so why don't you hand it over and then we can-"

"Whoa, hang on a second!" Janna interrupted her face and voice showing interest for the first time since they had arrived as her eyes finally spotted the matching rings on the agents' hands. "Since when have you two been engaged!" She quickly picked up on the intense blush that soon coated the young couple's cheeks, as well as the quick loving look that passed between Star and Marco, before their focus returned to Janna.

"For a few weeks now..." Star admitted, clearly overjoyed to be confessing this, even if it was to their enemy.

"Unbelievable, I can't believe you two didn't tell me!" Janna scoffed out, shaking her head in disapproval.

Marco rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "Maybe because it's none of your business."

"So how did it happen?" the thief asked, leaning closer to the two, her eyes shimmering with questions.

The brown-haired boy opened his mouth to remind her once again that their personal life was none of her business, only for his fiance to blurt out in an excited squeal, "Oh my gosh, it was the sweetest thing, Janna. You should have seen it. One minute we're beating up a group of VILE agents, the next Marco's down on one knee proposing!" Star let out a long sigh at the memory, putting a hand to her blushing cheek, her shoulder just barely touching her finance's side. "It was so romantic."

"So, where's the wedding going to be?" Janna asked with genuine interest.

"We decided to have it in Marco's old hometown," Star replied instantly. "Nothing too fancy, just a simple wedding with our closest friends and families. Don't want to attract too much attention, y'know."

"Staarr," Marco whispered to her in warning, trying to remind his future wife not to divulge too much information to the perceptive thief. He knew she was excited and everything but Janna was the last person he had wanted to know about their special day, considering her track record for making his life miserable every chance she got.

"Huh, sounds nice," Janna commented from above, sounding genuine and sincere, even going as far as to flash them what could almost pass for a warm smile. But Marco wasn't buying any of her act, he had been fooled by her one too many times. "So when can I expect my invite?" she added.

"Uhh, never," Marco deadpanned.

Janna gave the boy a fake hurt look, feigning ignorance as she asked, "What, why not?"

"Maybe because we don't want a common criminal hanging around during our wedding," the boy snapped, giving her an accusing glare.

"Plus, we're kinda arresting you, soooo," Star added, with an apologetic shrug. At that, the two agents held their guns up once more, their gazes hardening as they kept their focus and attention on their target.

The young thief let out a dejected sigh, sitting up and turning her back on the two but still keeping a light grip on the railing behind her. "Fine, I see how it is," she said in the saddest tone she could muster, watching out of the corner of her eye to see if they would let their guard down any.

She inwardly smirked as Star lowered her gun just an inch, her face softening in sympathy, while Marco only seemed to grow more suspicious, his eyebrows somehow furrowing more than they already were. "Look, Jan, just toss us down the briefcase and we won't have to use force," Marco said in a slow, even tone, but Janna easily caught onto the hidden threat that lay beneath.

She let out a deep sigh, before saying softly, "Whatever you say." The next few seconds went by in a flash as Janna instantly turned and jumped over the railing, now falling back to the first story. Star and Marco flinched, Janna seeing their fingers tightening on the triggers of the stun guns but before either could react fully, the girl threw the briefcase in her hands, it smacking directly into Marco's chest causing the boy to grunt in pain and surprise and crash to the floor hard. Star turned to her boyfriend in fear, Janna forgotten as she screamed out a panicked, "Marco!"

Janna, meanwhile, quickly shot out a grappling line from inside her sleeve, where it roughly attached to the ceiling. The string went taunt allowing the young thief to soar over the two agent's heads. She detached the line, tucking into a roll as she hit the ground and soon she was back on her feet once more.

Janna turned, seeing Star checking on her partner, who was more stunned than hurt and didn't even hesitate to shoot out another grapple line which latched onto the forgotten handle of the briefcase, before being zipped back over to her at record speed. Janna caught it with practiced ease, looking smugly over to the pair of agents now shooting her confused but angry glares, and she merely winked and tipped her hat toward them, saying in her typical sarcastic wit, "Thanks for holding onto that for me. But I think I'll be going now."

The thief took off at a run, knowing it would only be a few seconds before the two agents pursued her with a fiery vigor and she needed to put as much distance between her and them as possible. And just as she predicted within seconds Janna heard a loud voice shout, "Hey wait!" and she increased her speed, heading straight for the top floor of the building.

Star helped Marco to his feet before the two quickly ran after the escaping thief, the latter growling under his breath for being outsmarted again by the willy Janna. He ignored the slight heat in his cheeks, keeping his focus entirely on his target, whose head start was doing little to match his and Star's speed, quickly gaining on the girl.

The door to the roof busted open as Janna emerged, running toward the edge with Star and Marco right on her heels. Janna didn't even hesitate as she jumped off the roof, sailing flawlessly through the air before landing on the rooftop of the next building. She turned to give the two a victorious smirk before running away at top speed again.

Marco and Star, however, were far from beaten, the two racing ahead with no fear or hesitation as they too leaped off the building's side, landing on the next roof in perfect synchronization. Janna turned to see the two chasing after her again and she smiled to herself. This was just the challenge she had been hoping for.

The chase across Paris continued, Janna leaping from rooftop to rooftop, with little to no regard for her own safety, even the breakneck drop that waited below and the cold, bitter wind rushing against her face doing nothing to slow her pace. She began trying to dissuade the two agents from following as she took riskier and more dangerous jumps, knowing from experience that Marco would more than likely take the safest route available, rather than risk injury for him or his girlfriend. That boy was always too overly cautious for his own good, something Janna was hoping to use to her advantage.

But for once, Marco didn't seem to be falling back on his safe ways, keeping pace with his target as he precariously threw himself across every gap he came across. Star happily doing the same, looking like she was having the time of her life, chasing after the elusive thief with her boyfriend.

At this point, Marco's lungs and limbs were screaming at him to stop and allow them to rest. But the boy didn't listen, instead pressing them harder to continue. He was going to catch her this time, he was sure of it. And his hopes rose as he saw the row of buildings was soon coming to an end, instead opening up into a near-empty harbor, the light from the moon catching in the gentle waves and causing the water to shimmer and dazzle. That was definitely too far for even Janna to jump.

The girl seemed to notice this as she brought herself to a stop, just inches away from the edge. She turned to face the two agents, who were both huffing and puffing at this point, exhausted from the long trek over the Paris skyline. But they smiled at her with tired but victorious smirks, Star saying in a gasped breath, "Ha, looks like we win! You're trapped!"

"Just give up, Janna, there's nowhere else for you to run," Marco added, his voice low and full of finality.

"Maybe not," the girl said in a soft tone, keeping her face blank, before she smirked and added cryptically, "But maybe I don't have to." Her eyes snapped over to the waiting harbor below, before returning over to the two agents. Star and Marco gave her quizzical looks for a second before they both gasped in shock, realizing what she was saying.

"Wait, you aren't seriously going to try and jump that, are you?!" Star asked in disbelief, her eyes widening some in worry.

"No way, Star, she's just bluffing!" Marco said confidently.

"Are you sure about that?" Janna asked, taking a step closer to the edge, a gust of wind nearly knocking her hat off her head but she stood unmoving against it, bracing herself against its biting chill.

Star looked over to her boyfriend, cupping a hand around her mouth as she whispered to him, "I don't know, Marco. She seems pretty serious."

The boy agent paused, heeding his girlfriend's advice and giving his target a closer examination, taking in Janna's relaxed and almost teasing posture, her eyes showing no sign of hesitance or concern. Marco inwardly cringed, Star was right she was definitely up to something. But he didn't let it show as he again warned the girl, "You can't make that jump, Janna. Just surrender peacefully and things will go easier for you."

Janna cocked her head to the side, making a big show of thinking this over, tapping a finger against her chin in a clearly mocking manner. "Hmm, I don't know. 'Surrender' and 'peaceful' aren't exactly in my vocabulary." Keeping her gaze locked on the two agents she took a step closer to the edge, her foot now partially off the building, a wide smirk growing on her face as she added, "Besides since when have I ever taken the easy route."

Then, without another word, the girl turned and lunged forward, kicking off of the roof with all her might, sending her form flying smoothly through the air. At the same time, Marco lunged for her, hoping to catch her before she was out of reach. "Oh no you don't!" he screamed, his hand reaching out to grab onto her signature cloak. But he was just milliseconds too short, his fingers barely brushing the bright red fabric before it slipped through his fingertips, leaving him touching nothing but air... and falling quickly and precariously toward the waiting water below. Marco let out a high-pitched scream, his arms flailing in a desperate attempt to somehow slow himself, before splashing into the cold moonlit harbor, a spray of water sent hurtling through the air.

Janna, however, remained as calm as ever, holding out an arm and firing off her grappling gun once again, it easily connecting to the side of a building across the stream before yanking her quickly towards it, the trained thief doing a quick flip in the air before landing expertly on the rooftop.

Star, who had watched the whole display from the safety of the nearby building, muttered to herself, "Oh right, grappling hook. Forgot she had that."

Down below, Marco surfaced, coughing and spluttering as he spat out as much water as he could from his lungs, looking shocked and bewildered from the unexpected dive. His spiked hair now lay flat and clung to his head at awkward angles, his form shuddering in the frigid temperature.

Janna looked smugly down to the young agent and then back up to Star before saying, "Well this has been fun, but I got to run." The girl then began making her way across the rooftop, walking smoothly and steadily now that she didn't have to worry about being pursued. She kept her back to them as she waved her goodbye, shouting, "Congrats on the wedding by the way! Make sure to send me some pictures."

Once the girl was out of sight, Star turned her attention back to her boyfriend, asking in concern, "Marco, you okay?"

The boy let out an exhausted sigh. "I'm fine," he said dejectedly.

"You sure?" Star questioned, not looking quite convinced. "Nothing's hurting?"

"Just my pride," the boy admitted, looking sadly off into the distance, the exact direction his target was now headed.

Star gave her fiance a sympathetic look, before adding, "You want me to go after her."

The boy shook his head, slouching forward as his face hardening into an angry scowl. "Nah, there's no point. She's probably long gone by now."

"Okay well, in that case, I'm coming down to help you," Star replied.

Marco's eyebrow raised in confusion, not quite understanding what his girlfriend was implying. "Wait, what do you mean by-" he started to ask, only to be interrupted by a loud shout above, looking up to see Star diving off the building too, letting out a cheer of excitement as she free-fell through the cold, night air.

"Wait, wait, wait, Star don't, it's too cold!" The boy shouted in warning, waving his hands wildly but it was too late as Star splashed down into the bay right next to him, sending a wave of freezing cold water into his face and leaving him spluttering once more. Star surfaced a second later, water dripping from her bangs as she giggled at her Marco's startled face.

The boy let out a few deep breaths, still in shock from being pelted with the icy cold water but soon found himself smiling too, his fiance's laugh too infectious for him to resist. And pretty soon Marco was laughing too, pressing his forehead to Star's and bringing his arms around her, the two floating on the water's surface as one. "You know we're gonna be in big trouble for not catching Janna, right?" Marco reminded Star, though it was light and warm in comparison to just a few minutes ago.

"Aww, we'll get her next time," Star reassured the boy, cupping his cold cheeks in her hands, the warmth of her fingers causing Marco's whole face to tingle. "Besides, I already know where's she heading."

"Wait, you do?" Marco gasped in surprise.

Star gave her boyfriend a quick wink, saying in a flirty tone, "You're not the only one who can gather intel, y'know." Marco continued to give his partner a disbelieving look, not that he should be too surprised. Star was amazing and when she put her mind to it, there was nothing she couldn't do.

"So where's she headed?" Marco asked curiously.

"Welllll, judging by the direction she was going I would say our Scarlet Thief is heading for the train station. It's only like a block away from here and we both know Janna is known to try and skip town the first chance she gets," Star explained, while her fiance just listened in awe. "So all we gotta do is head over there and find out which train she got on."

"How do you know that?" the boy asked, raising a playful eyebrow at his bride-to-be.

Star shrugged. "Reasons," she said vaguely.

"Like?" the boy pressed, giving her a flirty look he knew she couldn't resist.

Star blushed slightly as she replied, "Let's just say I've had my eye on this place for a while now. You may be in charge of planning the wedding, but I'm in charge of the honeymoon."

The boy instantly froze, his face turning a dark shade of red that easily surpassed the color on his tie. He definitely hadn't been expecting that answer and he had to cough into his hand to clear his tight throat, looking away from the beautiful piercing blue of his girlfriend. "Oh yeah, okay, great, that's uhhh... that's great," the boy muttered nervously, Star holding back a giggle at the embarrassed blush on her Marco's cheeks.

Instead, the blond let out a loving sigh, giving her adorable fiance's small form a quick squeeze, as she squealed out, "Aw Marco, your so cute!" But she quickly added in a determined, serious tone, "But we can flirt later! Right now we got a job to do!"

"Yeah!" Marco shouted, pumping a fist into the air, too, before the two shared a quick high five. Just as their hands connected, a motorboat sped by them, sending a wave of freezing cold water washing over them. Both of the highly trained agents froze in place, their hands still touching as Marco muttered behind chattering teeth, "But first things first, let's get out of this water before one of us freezes to death!"

"Agreed," Star replied, her form shaking in perfect sync with her boyfriend's as they both began furiously swimming for shore and hopefully some much-needed warmth.

…

Janna was able to board the train out of Paris without any complications whatsoever. Mostly due to the fact that Alfonso had purchase Janna a ticket in advance, under his partner's direction, though being sure to give the conductor a fake name since Janna was a very wanted criminal at the moment. The young hacker had shown reluctant at first towards the plan, saying that even with a fake name she could still be recognized and that it would safer to just sneak onboard. But Janna had been quick to argue, saying that Al was just being paranoid and worried too much... which he absolutely did. But despite his concerns, Alfonso had gone ahead with the purchase, making sure Miss Hanna Orlandia had a ticket out of the city.

And just as Janna had predicted, nobody paid her any mind, the conductor barely batting an eye in her direction as he just lazily punched her ticket and sent her on her way. Janna, of course, making a smug comment to Alfonso which caused the boy to groan in annoyance and accept defeat... this time.

From there it had been as simple as stashing the briefcase in one of the storage cars, making sure it was buried under a pile of luggage and wouldn't be accidentally discovered by any noisy passengers, leaving Janna free to enjoy the trip.

She slowly walked through the row of cars looking for her seat, ignoring the irregular shifting beneath her feet as the train carried forth at rapid speed, already fast on its way to her destination. "Sooo that could have gone... better," Al said in her ear, trying to lighten the mood and the girl chuckled.

"Yeah, but we did get to see the power couple so I'd call that a win," she responded, ignoring the weird looks she was getting from the few passengers that went by. "And we just got away scot-free."

"I don't know Janna," Al responded nervously. "This just seemed too easy."

Easy. Yeah for him, maybe, all he had done was sit there and give out directions, Janna was the one who had been in a hot pursuit across Paris with two of the most highly-trained secret agents in the world. "Oh relax Al," Janna replied with a roll of her eyes. He could be so over-dramatic sometimes. "We're fine."

"Yeah, Al relax," came a familiar voice through the earpiece.

"Ferguson! How long have you been up?!"

"Mmm," Ferguson hummed thoughtfully. "Probably about three minutes or so."

"Well if you're up than can you do me a favor and clean the dishes, the sink is full again and it's your turn."

"Whaaaattt nooo," Ferguson whined. "Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm busy helping Janna," Alfonso explained, sounding exasperated with the discussion already.

"Well let me help Janna and then you can do the dishes," Ferg suggested excitedly.

"No way! I'm not letting you touch my system, you don't know anything about it!" Al argued loudly.

"Aw come on how hard can it be if you do it?"

"Ferg, I said no!"

The speaker quickly filled with the sound of the two wrestling, Alfonso probably trying to push Ferguson back from his expensive and highly breakable equipment. After a few seconds of listening to the annoying grunts of them fighting, Janna pulled out her earpiece, knowing they could go on like this for a while and she was in the mood for some peace and quiet.

She reached her own reserved car, smiling softly to herself as she saw the door was already open, alerting her someone was already inside. And she had a pretty good idea who.

And the moment she stepped inside her smirk widened as her suspicions were proven correct, he was there. He sat with his legs crossed and his arms stretched out on the back of his seat trying to look as casual as possible. His hair was spiked just like she had remembered it and the familiar pink color made Janna inwardly chuckle. He wore a bright red shirt with a star on the front and a long black leather jacket, black gloves with the fingers torn off, and black jeans. His shoes were his typical orange boots. In short, Tom Lucitor looked as great as ever.

He gave her a devilish grin, saying in a smooth tone, "Thought you'd show up, took you long enough, though."

Janna put a hand to her hip and said in the teasing tone she reserved only for her greatest rival, "Aw, Pinkie what a surprise."

The boy's calm demeanor shattered as he growled at the hated nickname. "I told you my hair is salmon!"

"Mmm yeah I'm still gonna call you Pinkie," Janna replied with a shrug, taking the seat across from him.

Tom groaned, crossing his arms in a pouting gesture. "Yep your still as intolerable as ever," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"And your still as angry as ever," the girl replied, leaning back in her seat, crossing her legs and resting her hands behind her head. "So what brings you to Paris, the City of Love, don't tell me you've gone all sappy and turned into a romantic."

"You know me better than that, Jan," Tom replied, flashing her a cocky grin. He leaned forward a bit, before saying in a knowing tone, "And I think you already know why I'm here."

Janna smiled. "Yes, but I wanted to hear you say it."

Tom's gaze narrowed slightly before he began in a threatening tone, "I want you-"

"You want me?" Janna interrupted with a mock look of surprise. "Well looks like you are turning into a romantic."

Tom growled angrily under his breath as he spat out through clenched teeth, "I want you to give me the statue."

"What statue?" Janna asked, feigning ignorance.

Tom just rolled his eyes before snapping, "The Golden Dancer! The one you stole from the museum."

"What makes you think I stole anything?" Janna asked, her cryptic tone never ceasing and the smile on her face told Tom that she was very much enjoying herself, much to his annoyance. "Can't a girl visit Paris without having some ulterior motive?"

"Yes, but you're not most girls," Tom stated simply, and for the first time since she had gotten there Janna's cheeks got the slightest tinge of pink.

"Aww, you flatter me, Tom," Janna cooed coyly, winking at him.

"That wasn't a compliment," Tom stated, trying to hide the joy he felt at making her blush. She was so cute when she was blushing, it almost made him forgive how aggravating she could be.

"Yes, it was," Janna said calling his bluff, and Tom felt his cheeks heat up again against his will, growling to try and hide his embarrassment.

Almost. He almost forgave her. But something told him, she wanted it this way, which was why being around her was so frustrating. She always knew just what to say to set him off. "Look are you gonna give me the statue or do I have to make you," he threatened, wanting to just get to the point and get this whole confrontation over with before he was reminded anymore how much he had missed her. His hand slowly moved to his pocket, making sure his movements were subtle enough she didn't pick up on them.

"Hmmm," she hummed, tapping a finger to her chin, clearly thinking it over or at least pretending to. "Yeah no, I don't think so. I stole it fair and square. You want it so bad you should have stolen it yourself." Tom smirked. "Why would I do that, when I got you?" He leaned forward, his malicious grin widening with every word, looking proud of himself for conning the elusive thief. "I followed you all the way, here, y'know. And I didn't even have to try to find you, you made your presence well known. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were slipping Janna." His hand now grasped the electric stun baton from within the confines of his pocket, ready to draw it out and use it to knock his annoying rival out cold. But then Janna did something unexpected, she leaned in closer to him, freezing the boy in place as his heart began hammering in his chest. Soon their faces were just inches apart, Tom looking deep into Janna's brown gaze, a soft, almost sincere look on her face and he wondered if she was actually opening up to him for once. Her fingers began tracing lines on his shirt as she softly whispered, "Or maybe I wanted you to find me."

Tom tried not to shudder as her warm breath tickled his skin. Her lips were so close now, challenging him, teasing him to move in, but no matter how much he wanted to (oh man did he want to) he knew better than to let his guard down around her. "Wh-Why would you do that?" He asked, trying to hide the squeak in his voice.

And then Janna moved in even closer until her lips were almost touching his as she said in the most honest and sincere tone he had ever heard come from her lips, "Cause I missed you, Tom."

The boy gulped but found himself actually moving in for the kiss, all ulterior motives, all scheme, all logic thrown out the window as he attempted to capture that which he had never yet been able to steal: Janna's affection.

But just before their lips brushed, Tom felt a stinging sensation in his side, which then turned into a powerful burning. He let out a yelp of pain as he looked down, only to see Janna had snatched the baton from his pocket and had it pressed into his side, electrocuting him.

"Sorry, Pinkie," he heard Janna say to him in an apologetic tone, but it was distant and fuzzy as his brain began to shut down. "But you know the first rule of dealing with a thief. Never let them get too close."

Tom let out one last growl of annoyance before he lost consciousness, falling back against his seat, asleep.

Janna pulled the device away the second she saw the boy's eyes close and quickly pocketed the device. It was very nicely made, she might have some use for it in the future. For a few seconds, she just stared at his sleeping face, looking so cute and peaceful you couldn't even tell that beneath lie a hotheaded, temperamental thief. He was too much fun to tease when awake, but asleep he was irresistible. Which was why she couldn't help but lean over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, letting her armor crack for a second as she whispered to his sleeping form, "See you around, Tom."

She stood, stepping back out into the hallway, giving him one last longing look over her shoulder before closing the door to the train car sealing the sleeping teen inside.

Once she had put some distance between her and her unconscious rival, she slipped her earpiece back on, saying smoothly, "Hey Al, what'd I miss?"

"Janna?!" Came the worried, expected shriek of her friend. It was clear he had been panicking for a while now. "What happened? I lost contact with you. Did something go wrong?"

"Nah, not really," the girl lied instantly. "Must have just had a bad signal there for a while."

"Well that's a relief," Alfonso said with a sigh. "For a minute there I was afraid you ran into that hot-headed rival of yours. That would have been a total disaster."

"Wellllll, actually," the girl said in a purposely overly hesitant way.

Alfonso let out a long sigh. "Spoke too soon," he muttered under his breath.

...

The train pulled into the station an hour later, a crowd of passengers emerging from the train in a hurry, eager to stretch their legs after the long trip. And hiding in plain sight, the thief in red whistled as she strode along, an almost skip in her step as she carried the large briefcase loosely at her side. She made her way to the dock, where a large boat waited for her, giving the captain a wink as she boarded, letting him know it was her and he nodded to tell her he understood. He said something over to one of the crew who ran off to inform them now they were good to go. Not even a minute later the ship was already plowing it's way out of the harbor and heading toward open ocean.

The captain went over to greet her, saying pleasantly enough, "Miss Ordonia, glad to see you made it." His gaze slowly lowered to the briefcase, eying it greedily for a second. "And by the looks of it, your heist was a success."

"Captain Carrots, a pleasure as always," Janna said with a smile. "I trust my colleague already paid you in full."

"Aye yes, your friend already sent us the cash."

"And did he give you my instructions?"

The captain nodded. "Aye, he did."

"Good, then since you know our destination, I'll leave the rest to you," Janna said, going to walk around him but he stepped into her way, blocking her path off.

"Why don't you let me take that off your hands," the captain offered slowly reaching down to grab the briefcase, Janna hearing the greed and desperation in his voice. "Me and my crew will make sure it reaches its buyer safely."

Janna quickly bat his hand away and positioned her body so the briefcase was no longer in his line of sight, wagging a scolding finger at him while clicking her tongue in disappointment. "Nice try, Captain, but I wasn't born yesterday," she said with a smirk, the captain gritting his teeth at her. "And I was given strict instructions by my employer to deliver the statue myself and to make sure I personally handed it over to him. But if you'd like I'd be happy to call and let him know-" Janna made a show of reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone.

"No!" The captain shouted, putting a hand up to try and stop her. Janna gave him a knowing smile as he cleared his throat, continuing much softer, "No that won't be necessary." He plastered on a forced smile that was just priceless to the young thief who was enjoying every second of this, though she made sure not to let it show... not too much at least.

"Good," Janna said, slipping the phone back in her pocket, the superior grin never leaving her face. "Then I'll leave you to your job and you can leave me to mine."

The young thief then pushed her way past the man, leaving the fuming captain alone to rage as she found a seat near the back of the boat, her back literally against the rail that prevented her from falling into the crystal clear waters below her. The second she sat down she felt a lurch as the boat propelled forward at an even faster speed now that they had reached deeper waters, quickly on it's way to Janna's next destination. The girl set the package down at her side, before letting out a relaxed sigh, leaning back in her seat, feeling the cool breeze of the ocean washing over her as she stared out at the picturesque ocean waves for a second.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Alfonso said in her ear.

"What messing with the captain, of course, I did?" The girl admitted, no shame in her tone. "He was trying to con me, so I just let him know who he was dealing with."

"You know, you wouldn't have to do that if you let me hire a law-abiding citizen instead of a dirty, crooked conman."

"Wheres the fun in that? Besides haven't you ever heard the phrase 'honor among thieves'."

"Yes, but the more time I spend with you the more convinced I am that it's a bunch of nonsense," Al deadpanned.

Janna chuckled at that, before saying, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It wasn't."

"I know."

Alfonso sighed and she heard the distinct sound of the young genius banging his head against his desk (it wasn't the first time one of their conversations had ended that way and the thief was slightly curious if there was an indent in his desk from how many times he had done it). Janna decided to show a little mercy for her friend and change the subject, saying, "Oh relax, Al. Look on the bright side, we got the painting with minimal damage, got to see our favorite power couple, and even managed to get away from Tom unscathed. Sounds like a pretty successful mission to me."

"Yeah," Alfonso agreed halfheartedly. "Guess there is that. Let's just hope we threw that hothead off our track for a while."

Janna smiled thoughtfully to herself, bringing up the mental image of the handsome thief into her mind. "I don't know, something tells me we'll be seeing him again very soon," she replied, unable to resist adding a knowing edge to her tone that the young hacker picked up on instantly.

"Janna, what did you do?" He asked in exasperation, hoping she hadn't done what he feared she had done. Knowing her, it was entirely likely.

Janna didn't reply, just smiling smugly to herself as she stared across the waves at the fading sunset on the horizon, wondering what the next day would bring her, while her head spun with the image of gorgeous red eyes.

…

Tom was furious the moment he had woken up with a splitting headache and a dry mouth, feeling a bizarre mixture of regret, disappointment, and rage. But mostly rage. And all of it was directed at one soul individual. Stupid Janna! He couldn't believe he had actually fallen for such an obvious trick and he silently cursed himself for actually letting her get too close.

And now here he was, storming through the nearly empty train with a sour scowl on his face. He ignored the few passengers remaining, wanting to just leave without any further complications. Not that he was worried about getting caught since he had swiped a ticket out of some unfortunate soul's pocket when he snuck onboard, he just didn't want to be bothered until he got the chance to cool down. He wasn't sure where he was at this point since he had no clue how much time had passed while he was unconscious, for all he knew he could be in another country, for crying out loud!

Stupid Janna! This was all her fault. If she hadn't tried to-

Tom growled as his cheeks lit up with a blush, willing them back to their normal hue. How could he have been so stupid! He should have known better than to try and actually do that with her. Of course, it was a trick, ugh, how could he be such a moron?!

Suddenly, Tom stopped in his tracks as he spotted a pair up ahead, his heart leaping into his throat as he recognized the well-dressed couple, the boy holding a picture out toward the train conductor while his blond partner practically lay up against him as she stared over his shoulder, these two clearly having no sense of personal space with each other.

Great, Star and Marco were here, as if he didn't have enough to deal with, now he had the two best agents in Acme on his tail and he doubted they'd be all that happy to see him once again. Tom didn't waste any time as he quickly ducked into the empty train car beside him, knowing they were sure to recognize him the moment they spotted him his few run-ins with them memorable enough for him to leave a lasting impression and make him weary from encountering them again. He left the door open only a crack as he listened to the two's conversation while cursing whatever force had decided to give him this string of bad luck.

"Please look closely, sir. Are you certain you haven't seen her, it's very important," Marco asked the conductor, his voice friendly but professional as he pressed the man for more info.

"Hmmm, now that I'm looking at it, I do think I've seen her before, pretty sure she was sharing a car with a young man, I'll go check the books, see if I can find out which car it was," the conductor said, Tom listening as a pair of footsteps faded off into the distance.

Perfect, just perfect, Tom silently groaned. Now those two knew about him! Hopefully, they wouldn't put two and two together-

"Sooo Janna was with a young man, huh? Are you thinking who I'm thinking?" Star said in a knowing tone and Tom winced. Never mind.

"What, Tom?" Marco asked, sounding like he was deep in contemplation. "It could be, but that's a pretty big conclusion to draw Star."

Star scoffed loudly, Tom hearing a light smack (probably the girl lightly tapping her partner's shoulder). "Come on, Marco. It makes total sense. Think about it, those two are always hanging around each other..." Well, she wasn't entirely wrong. "... and you know they can barely keep their eyes off each other." Again, it was true, just not for the reason the blond agent seemed to be drawing.

"So what you think their partners?"

"Well that and also secretly dating," Star added, sounding so proud of herself for figuring it out.

Tom nearly fainted right there, his cheeks filling with so much blood he nearly passed out from blood loss in the rest of his limbs. How could they seriously think he would have any feelings toward his annoying rival other than disgust. But his mind betrayed him, momentarily flashing back to Janna's form slowly moving in for what seemed to be a loving kiss and he vigorously shook his head to relieve himself from the memory, willing down his now racing pulse.

"Dating?" Marco said skeptically. "I mean I guess it's possible..."

"Of course it is!" Star said confidently. "Those two are crazy about each other." She paused before adding in a sappy, loving coo, "Almost as crazy as I am for you."

"Well I don't think anybody could be more in love than I am with you, Star," Marco replied in an equally flirty tone. Tom tried not to gag at the young couple's overly affectionate ways. Could these two be any cheesier?

"Aww Marco, you are too sweet!" Star squealed. She sounded more like a lovesick teenager than a highly trained agent.

The boy let out a long, disheartened sigh as he muttered, "But y'know, I still can't believe I fell for her tricks again!"

Marco face-palmed, flushing in embarrassment as the previous events of the night came back to him, looping through his head and making him feel more and more ridiculous with every cycle. "Why is Janna always one step ahead of us! Every time I think about what happened, I just feel like an idiot." He buried his head in his hands with an audible groan, while out of sight of the two Tom was nodding in agreement and annoyance. He could totally relate.

Star gave her boyfriend a sympathetic look, seeing just how badly he needed cheering up. Luckily, the blond knew just what to do to help. She gave Marco a flirty grin, grabbing onto his tie and lightly pulling him towards her, causing the boy to let out a startled squeak, their faces now mere inches from touching. "Well, I think I know a way to get your mind off of that," she whispered coyly, causing a shudder to jump up Marco's spine.

"Starrr," Marco muttered in embarrassment, his eyes jumping around the empty train car, making sure they were, in fact, alone. "This isn't a good time, we're on a mission, remember? What if someone sees us?"

But Star didn't seem to be giving up, simply replying seductively, "Let em look. I've been waiting to kiss my future husband all day and I'm not waiting any longer." With that, Star moved in for the kill, her fiance's lips about to be captured and claimed by her once more.

Meanwhile, the disgusted Tom was busy debating on either staying quiet or slamming the door open and turning himself in (both of which had some major cons) when the voice of the conductor suddenly cut into the moment, much to Tom's relief, saying pleasantly to the two agents, "Okay I think I found it."

Tom could hear a small shout from the two, followed by noisy shuffling as they obviously pulled apart from each other. The thief could hear a loud cough from Marco (probably trying to clear his tight throat) as he said in a forced, formal tone, "Uhh, good. T-That's excellent news, sir."

There was a pause before the conductor asked, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No!" the young couple shouted much to quickly and Tom couldn't help but smirk from his hiding spot. Geez, why were they acting all embarrassed? Weren't they about to be married or whatever? "Anyways, what'd you find out?" Marco asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Well according to the record, someone with your description purchased a ticket in advance under the name of Hanna Orlandia," the conductor explained.

Star scoffed loudly, saying in a disappointed tone, "Really, that's the name she went with? Come on, Janna you're more clever than that."

"Star, don't compliment our criminal," Marco scolded.

"I'm just saying, that's kinda a lazy fake name," Star said, defensively.

"Oh yeah, and what would your fake name have been?" Marco asked his girlfriend in a playful tone.

"I don't know maybe something cool like Carmen or something."

"Ummmm, did you want me to go on or-" the conductor asked hesitantly.

"Oh yeah, right," Marco said in realization. "Continue."

"Well, she was staying in train car 15 along with a young man with pink hair." Tom had to suppress the growl he felt rising in his throat. It was salmon, not pink? Why did nobody ever get that?!

"Ah hah!" Star exclaimed in victory. "Told you it was Tom!"

"Yeah, guess you were right. I mean, i don't really know too many guys with pink hair," Marco replied in agreement. Salmon!

"Can you take us to their car? Maybe they left behind a clue or something," Star asked, the conductor immediately complying, saying, "Right this way."

Tom listened intensely as the sound of footsteps retreated deeper into the train, fading into the distance, along with Star's long rant to her boyfriend about how he and Janna were clearly dating and working together (which he did his best to ignore). He waited until they were completely out of earshot before pulling the door to the train car open, doing a quick check left and right before smirking and making his way over to the exit.

Once he was outside on the narrow streets of some unknown city, he picked a random direction and started walking, needing to put as much distance between himself and the two agents as he could. That had been a close one, much closer than Tom liked, but at least he hadn't had to deal with Star and Marco directly. He still had bruises from their last encounter, those two packing a big punch despite their appearance... especially when working as a team. No, as annoying and inconvenient as it had been, it could still have turned out much worse for him.

Sure they knew he had been there, but they wouldn't find anything. That much he was sure of since he had made sure to leave nothing behind that could be used to track him, despite the blinding rage he had felt after-

Tom let out a low growl as the memory of earlier entered his mind, anger filling his chest once again. Right, he had almost forgotten about stupid Janna and her stupid tricks. Why had he even followed her there in the first place? Hadn't he learned by now to steer clear of Janna and her obnoxious, charming ways? All she ever did was make trouble for him. What had he been thinking?

The boy roughly shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to ignore the obvious answer that kept popping into his mind, refusing to admit just how badly he had wanted to see her again. He paused though, as his fingers brushed up against something. Tom came to an immediate stop as he dug around in his pocket, his fingers tightening around what felt like some sort of ticket or something before pulling out a small slip of paper. Tom stared at it stunned for a moment, knowing instantly who it was from. There was only one person who could have slipped this into his pocket without him knowing, presumably when he was unconscious. Finally, after a few more seconds, he slowly unfolded the note, confusion pinching his eyebrows as he read the soft, delicate handwriting, his heart thumping once against his will. Can't wait for our next date. See you in Venice, Pinkie. -Love, the Scarlet Thief

For a few moments, all Tom could do was read and re-read the note over and over again, his cheeks pooling with more and more blood every time his eyes crossed the words 'Pinkie' or 'Love'. Finally, after several minutes of contemplation, Tom silently folded the note back up, slipping it back into his pocket.

He just stood there for another moment, letting the words sink in, his gaze slowly turning to the rising sun over on the horizon, its bright colors seeming to be a perfect representation of his heart right now. Glowing.

And then Tom did something he almost never did, he let all his barriers drop, allowing himself a long, warm smile. But this was not just any smile, this was the widest, goofiest, most lovestruck smile that had ever crossed his features, one only those who were hopelessly and passionately in love could conceive. And despite how annoying and obnoxious and difficult Janna Ordonia the Scarlet Thief could be... Tom would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to know he would be seeing her again very soon.

Hope you enjoyed! Jantom is impossible for me to resist and I had to put in my daily dose of Starco or it just wouldn't feel right to me. So I might continue this someday in the future but for now I'm keeping it as a one-shot. I just don't have enough time at the moment to make more (plus I don't really have any more ideas for heists or whatever) but if you want you are welcome to send me ideas for it in case I ever do continue. Like I said no promises.

Anyways that'll do it for me, hope you have a great week and stay safe and healthy! Stay awesome, Stardom! Especially all you Jantom shippers out there ;)

#Star vs #Star vs AU #My Writing #Where in the World is Janna Ordonia #Carmen Sandiego AU #Master Thief Jan AU #Janna Ordonia #Jantom #Starco

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low-budget-korra · 4 years ago

Text

The first text I made was over 2,000 words so I’ll try to summarize it.

First I'm going to talk about what I think is Bury Your Gays and poor writing of minorities.

For me, Bury your gays is when certain productions kill the lgbt character for the sake of shock value, often in the most stupid ways possible. A famous example of this was what happened to Lexa in the 100. When it feels like the character only died because he is gay.

And for me, poor writing for minorities (poc, lgbt, people with disabilities ...) can be characterized as:

1. Productions that want to portray the image of progressives and put a poc or lgbt character (which are the most common cases) without personality, unimportant, without development ... Character that are just there for decoration

2. When they even create an interesting character but soon create a reason to kill him to shock the audience. Kill them because they are poc.

And for me having a poc or lgbt character (since these are the boxes where I identify with) interesting, important ... this is the word: Important! whether it is important directly in the plot as a protagonist who carries the story or a supporting role with a good role on the story and a good development, it is much more significant than a character forced only for certain productions not to be accused of racism, sexism or lgbtphobia.

Of course, each case is different. I will now comment briefly on Atomic Blonde, The Last of Us part II and The Legend of Korra.

In Atomic Blonde we have the death of Delphine, a lgbt character who has generated some discussions about being a "bury your gays". I don't particularly agree because I believe that if she were a man or straight, she would die anyway. Since the protagonist's other love interest had died in the beginning and he was a heterosexual white man, and because the character of Delphine, despite being a spy, did not belong in that work or life style . Something even commented by herself. She was an inexperienced agent in the worst possible scenario to be one . But i now understand and why some people still think It was bury your gays.

In The Last of Us part II I saw many people complaining about the death of Jesse, Yara and how Lev was just a supporting character. The Last of Us part II .... a game that is not afraid to kill loved characters without any ceremony simply because in that world, one mistake can cost your life. Regardless of gender, sexuality, age, skin color ...

Jesse and Yara played Asian American characters and died. Mel, Joel, Owen ... were Caucasian, cishet characters who died too. None of them die because they are asian american or caucasian, they die cuz that world is fucking ruthless.

And about Lev not being important just because he is an supporting character... First that he is for Abby what Dina is for Ellie, both of them are extremely important support for the protagonists and Interesting characters with their own internal struggles and development. I think it is very unfair to throw this away with the argument like: "ah, but he is not the protagonist so it is not important"

And still about The Last of Us part II we are talking about a game and for those who do not know the gamer community is toxic, full of sexism, racism, lgbtphobia ... And the game developers had the balls for not only make two protagonists women outside the steryotype of femme fatalle or defenseless love interest(still very present in games) and one of them a lesbian, but also introducing an important trans character in a mainstream high-budget game.

People, until recently the only image we had of women in games was that of a busty model running around, made purely to please male players, good and important black, asian and lgbt characters was really rare or just didnt exist at all.

And today we have characters like Ellie, Lev, Kassandra (AC Odyssey), Jill Valentine and Claire Redfield who were reimagined more humanely in the remakes of Resident Evil, Lara Croft herself in the 2013 Tomb Raider remake, Max and Chloe(Life is Strange), Lee and Clementine(TWD from telltale), Marcus (Detroit Become Humam ), Connor (AC3) ... I know, there is still a long way to go until we have achieved the equality and representativeness that we want in the world of games but we are advancing. They may be a baby step but they still are steps forward. We should continue to support this initiatives and demand better representation.

Now about The Legend of Korra ... Reading the comments in the post i get the feeling that people were much more angry with Bryke for being cishet than with questions related to the narrative.

It bothers me the fact that it seems that whoever made the posts (originally from twitter) did not watch avatar or simply watched without paying attention. It was NEVER about Korra needed suffering but about finding Meaning in suffering. And yes, they are two different things.

When in the end Korra is talking to Tenzin, about understand the why she had to go through all that , for them be abble to be more compassionate of others. That shit is real. When you have a panic attack , for exemple, you become more abble to help someone who also suffers from that. Or when some people lose someone for a disease or acident and choose to become a doctor to help others, wanting no other person had to go through that pain... In this case, the person didnt have to lose someone to be a doctor but maybe after saw all the fight that the doctors put in to save someone and the pain of losing someone may have made the person spend the rest of his life saving people. Get It?

And in Avatar, both TLA and TLOK, people have suffer.

Aang: Cast aside by his friends when people discover he was the Avatar. Runaway and lose all of his people. Had to see the devastation for himself and find the bones of his friend and possible father figure. Almost die a few times. For many years had the weight of been the last of his people. And in a part of the journey, lost Appa.

Sokka and Katara: Lost their mother. Their dad leave to fight and possible die in the war. Sokka was only a teen when he was the man responsable for his tribe. Katara had the weight of being the only waterbender of her tribe and be the only one that could calm Aang once he was in Avatar State.

Toph: as a blind kid, her parents think of her as someone unable to do anything. Had to choose between save Appa or save the others in some point of their journey

Zuko: When i start with him?

Azula: oh Boy...

Iroh: Lose is only son. Had to see his brother burn Zuko's face. And Zuko betrayed him, kind of, in the end of book2.

Asami: Her mom was murdered , maybe even in front of her. Her dad was a evil genius. She probably suffered with Korra in those 3 years.

Mako and Bolin: They grow up as orphans on the streets...

I could go on and on, dude, even the cabbage man had suffer from losing his cabbages over and over.

But all of the sudden, Korra now had to have plot armor or else Bryke is wrong and are terrible people.

Everybody loves to talk about how perfect Zuko's arc and development is. Zuko, who was one of the characters who most have suffered in the show. But for him all was necessary, had meaning, perfect storytelling and structure but with Korra.... "She cant suffer cuz she is brown"

And its not like Bryke was making something up outta nowhere just to torture the character. All she face it was a consequence direct or indirect of her actions and actions of other people.

Amon and the Equalists? Aang didnt kill Yakone nor put him in prison for life, just took his bending. Yakone was a terrible father, and one of the reason Amon hate bending (even himself been a waterbender) so much to the point of him do what he did. The same to Tarrlok. He turn his sons into monsters. And the triads only help them, because they use their bending to rob the non benders.

Vaatu? Look up The Beginning epsodes because this one is more complex.

Unalaq? Look, the worst villain of Avatar. But he took advantage of things that happen as consequences of the ending of book1

Zaheer? Direct consequence of that happen in the finale of book 2.

Kuvira? Direct consequence of things that happen in book 3

Again, i could go on and on and go deeper on all that. But this is already getting to big.

But what pissed me off most is ... Look im years in this fandom. As a Brazilian i saw and read stuff from the fandom here in my country and the fandom here in Tumblr. And in those years i read so much about how Korra journey help people overcome their struggles with ptsd, anxiety, depression...myself included. How much Korra was important to lesbians and bissexuals girls, especially girls of color.

And them we have those few people throw shit on all this and "cancel" you for not agree with them...

The Legend of Korra ended 2014, 6 years ago and still is so loved, so important to so many people, for the most diverse reasons.

For a cishet, Bryke did a amazing job creating this amazingly beautiful universe. With the most diverse inspirations, coming from places that are forgotten on western media. But i guess its easier criticize, and cancel them and the show than do what they did.

I know that sometimes we just wanted a scape from our difficult reality but seriously, if you Just want a movie/tv show/book...100% happy, rainbow and sunshine with no suffering at all, stick with the fanfics because even romcons sometimes have their among of "i you make you cry and suffer" kind of shit.

Suffer is present in our life and what a lot of movies/tv shows/games/books...try to do is bring our struggles and our suffering into them. Why? Its easier have simpathy for characters who look like us, characters who had been through the same stuff as us.

Is so difficult talk those things in another language. I always feel like i didnt express myself right. And im really sorry if i offended anyone, it wasnt my intention.

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matildainmotion · 4 years ago

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Your Permission to Belong: a Deep Yes and a New Verb: To Matronise.

It turns out we are all imposters, or at least most of us feel we are. Although I knew this - it’s why I wrote a blog about it last month - I am still amazed and troubled that it is true. That so many of us feel like we don’t cut it, even in the context of a group like Mothers Who Make (MWM) that aims to be welcoming, inclusive, accessible. It has left me pondering on the opposite of Imposter Syndrome, on what it is that makes you, me, any of us, feel that we belong, that we have a right to be here. Who says? What or who gives us a sense of permission?

Permission -it’s a difficult word, not the obvious go-to one when on a quest for a sense of belonging. I associate it most immediately with stern, finger-wagging teachers, or ‘keep off the grass’ notices- with authority figures and forces that have the power to deny access. In its origins (Latin, permitere) it means to allow through, to let pass, which is why I think it is the key to our sense of belonging. Before we can belong, there is always a threshold moment, a point at which we are allowed to pass. Imposter Syndrome comes about when you feel you sneaked across the border - you are wandering about without a permit and it is only a matter of time before someone finds you out. No one gave you permission.

This is a top down model. The supplicant asks, waits anxiously to see if permission will be granted or denied by the authorities. It is a hugely powerful model. I still remember the first time I managed to get funding, the money was a minimal sum but far more significant was the feeling that someone had chosen me, had granted me permission to make a piece of work. Given how small the grant was, why couldn’t I have made it anyway?! Because I wanted an external authority to tell me I could. I wanted to be patron-ised.

Whilst, in theory, being a feminist and all, I didn’t agree with the patriarchal structure of this system, I was hopelessly hooked into it. I was a good girl, or desperate to be so, to acquire paternal approval to affirm my right to be or do anything. It has taken me becoming a mother to feel, viscerally, how problematic this top-down model of permission-giving can be.

As someone who had long identified as the supplicant, it was rather a shock, when I became a parent, to find myself in the position of authority- the one to dish out or withhold the permissions, in a hundred small ways, many times a day and I have found it exhausting. Perhaps because of this, I fear I am a permissive parent- I often allow my children to do what they want. Irrespective of what parenting methods you believe in, I think it is significant that being ‘permissive' has negative connotations. To say yes too often is a no-no. When I do say no, I have been struck, as my children grow, by the force of their reactions. They rage at first – which is hard - but then they walk away, which is harder. My daughter goes into a corner. My son has been known to make it out the door and down the lane. Both have told me I am the worst mother in the world and that they are in the wrong family - they don’t belong (their shared sense of melodrama is evidence to the contrary, but I refrain from putting this to them in the moment). My daughter is particularly sensitive to any of her wishes, ideas, words not being given full approval. Her back rounds, her head bows, the tears start. Sometimes this happens, not when I have frowned at her, but when I have condoned her brother. She is convinced that it is impossible for me to love her if I also love him. In other words, if she is to belong, she feels someone else must be left out- her inclusion only counts if he has been excluded. Needless to say, I find this very distressing. This is not what I want for her or her brother. And this is not what I want for MWM. I do not want to lead a movement that makes people feel left out, or as if they are imposters, one that furthers the dominant narrative around belonging- that some are allowed in, while others aren’t. What to do?

I remember back to a project I ran before Mothers Who Make called Permission Improbable, a play on the macho action spy movies, Mission: Impossible. The project, which I lead through Improbable, had the modest ambition of changing the world by supporting more women and non-binary people to improvise. Improvising, at its heart, is a game of permission-giving. In the absence of a writer or director - the usual authority figures - you have to practice giving your permission, saying yes, to the other players, the audience, to yourself- your impulses, feelings, thoughts. You never say no. It is not that every patch of grass in an impro scene can be trampled on, but rather that if someone puts up a ‘Do Not Walk Here’ sign everyone on stage says ‘yes’ to it, to the idea of it being part of the story. How ever many lawns are out of bounds, there is a deeper yes always at work- a common ground beneath the turf.

This presents a different model of permission-giving, not top-down, but reciprocal, and unconditional. We say yes to each other, and we say it together, without deliberation. Saying this deep yes to our ideas and impulses is not easy. We have been schooled to look outside ourselves, and upwards, for permission, and we have been trained to say ‘no’- sometimes with good reason. Sometimes ‘no’ keeps us alive. However too many ‘no’s may keep us less alive than we might be. It takes practice to say ‘yes’ but it is worth practicing. Arguably it is THE practice - the only thing you ever really have to practice, as a maker, as a mother- saying a deep “Yes.”

Image by Zoe Gardner @limberdoodle

I remember there was a time as a teenager when I ruthlessly dismissed my mother’s opinion of anything I did. She was my mum, massively biased - she’d always think what I had made was good so her positive feedback didn’t count. Retrospectively I disagree with my teenage self - I believe my mother’s validation of me counted hugely. I think it always counts. There is a place for discernment, but not at the expense of the first, fundamental practice, the ‘yes’ that gets us over the threshold.

When framed in this way, I actually think I need to be more permissive with my children. I need to practice, every day, saying a deep ‘yes’ to them, even or especially in the moments I am not allowing them to do something. As their mother I am their initial threshold, my body was the border they crossed into life. It is my task to say ‘yes’ to them. Yes, you are allowed to be here. Yes, you belong. I realise the children, in their own way, always say this kind of deep ‘Yes’ back to me, even when they are telling me I am the worst mother in the world. I believe that if I can engage in this reciprocal, unconditional model of permission-giving, it can result in a form of belonging that is not ‘in’ or ‘out’, inclusion/ exclusion - not another binary, but an ongoing dynamic process called community. And that is how I want to run Mothers Who Make, and in particular how I want to run our ‘Matronage’ membership scheme.

Let me do a brief re-cap on the Matronage story for anyone who doesn’t know it. In 2019, after a year of writing funding applications for MWM to councils, trusts (the UK patrons of the arts) and receiving no money - money being the major way in which permission is granted or denied in our culture - I was tired. I wanted to find a way to sustain the movement that was in line with the movement, that supported women/ non-binary carers to support themselves and one another, so I launched the Matronage scheme - if we could reach 300 Matron Saints, paying £1 to 10 per month, we could just about keep going. So far, a year on, we have 150.

My vision for Matronage is to see if it is possible to run a membership scheme powered entirely by the impulse to include, not by patronising ‘exclusive, members-only offers.’ I want to build a scheme that is accessible to anyone, no matter their financial status. There are benefits for signing up as a MWM Matron, but the primary, underlying one is that in doing so you are performing a radical act of permission-giving. It is a way to say a deep, resounding YES, to yourself and to others who care about creating and create whilst caring. Yes, you have a right to be here, Yes, your caring matters, Yes, your making matters too. And, yes, if you are reading this, you belong, no matter what your gender identity is, what your making practice is or isn’t, no matter whether you have children or not. Because, whilst it is important to practice saying ‘yes’ to yourself and your ideas, I do not think it is possible to do it all alone. We do need permission from outside ourselves, but we can give it to each other. Even if, like me, you do not identify as being someone important enough to hand out a permit, actually you are- I see it every time I run a MWM meeting or Mother Den. We can allow each other to pass through to a place of belonging, and it is a practice - we must do it over and over again. Let’s call this process ‘being matronised.’

To become a Matron Saint, you can pay anything from £1 per month to £10 per month - you choose. Most people pay £3, but if you can afford it £5 or £10 is brilliant. If you can’t £1 is fine. And if you cannot afford any monetary contribution then you can get in touch and we can playfully, joyfully, shamelessly, work out another kind of offering that you can make. Money is the fastest, and ironically often the cheapest way of saying ‘yes!’ but there are many others.

For now, when you become a Matron Saint you can:

-Attend as many International MWM peer support meetings as you like.*

-Attend as many Mother Dens as you like.*

-Attend any of the MWM Specials.*

-Write a Matron Saint interview, published online, celebrating you and your caring and creating.

-Apply to our Mother Pot commissioning fund once we reach 300 Matron Saints (when this happens a month of our Matronage will go back out to the matrons).

-Take part in our peer-mentoring scheme when I manage to launch it (watch this space!)

-Last but not least, you will give yourself and others permission. Permission to step over whichever thresholds you are teetering on. Permission to belong. And here is a new idea to make this tangible: when you become a Matron I would like to post you a ‘book of permissions,’ a living document to which you can add and which you will pass on to the next Matron, and so and so forth - a way to matronise one another. Such a list reminds me of what is apparently the nation’s favourite poem - Warning- the one in which the poet (Jenny Joseph) lists the outrageous things she will permit herself to do when she grows old - wear purple, pick flowers in other peoples’ gardens, learn to spit. I want to read your equivalent lists for now - let’s not wait till we grow any older.

Here, then, are your questions for the month, and I hope you will feel able to sign up as a Matron, invite others to do so (all genders welcome, non-mothers too), and write your answers in the new MWM book:

What do you need in order to feel you belong? What permission are you waiting for? Can you give it to yourself? Can you give it to others? Can you say a resounding ‘Yes’ to whatever it is you want to create in this world?

To become a matron go here:

https://www.nowdonate.com/checkout/td65v9xn404udt23p91c

To sign up as a matron and offer something other than money email me: [email protected]

*These particular matronly offers are, unless otherwise stated, open to women and non-binary folk only.

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mrsbhandari · 4 years ago

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Clash

A/N: HERE IT IS!! MY FIGHTING OLIVER TENSION FIC!! I hope yall enjoy and I also hope that yall know: getting asks and requests brightens my day EVERY SINGLE TIME it happens!! I never mind writing fics for yall or talking to yall or saying yall five times in every sentence. u know how it is. the pirates get ye, I get yall. thems the rules.

words: 2k

warnings: HEAVY SMUT like jfc idk how I can live with myself fklsjdfkj, language, swords

Summary: A training session with Oliver gets heated.

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

“You’re sure you can handle this, Eden?” Oliver took a sword off the wall and tossed it to his new sparring partner, who caught it easily by the hilt. “Training can get...intense.” His smoldering gaze turned to her, making his implication obvious.

“You forget I’ve learned the basics. I held off against your men, remember?” Raising an eyebrow, she swung the blade around with obvious practiced skill, getting used to the weight and natural movement quickly. He smiled fondly, but there was just a hint of arrogance touching his lips. The sword whooshed close to his ear, making him jolt away and drop his look. “Scared, Lieutenant?” After joining his crew, she was still desperate to prove that she deserved to be there, that she wasn’t a pirate spy. Oliver always regarded her coolly and cautiously, but figured the best way to test loyalty was to give her a weapon and see to it that she didn’t kill him (on purpose, at least).

“More nervous. You’re dangerous, you know.” He widened his stance, preparing to begin, and she modeled her foot placement after his.

“I know.” Giving a brief wink, they began the classic dance of battle, always moving and waiting for the other to strike first. As they looked at each other, there was a palpable tension stretching across the wide circle they created, connecting them like a taut string just begging to be broken by the swing of a sharp blade. Oliver was the first to attack, showing mercy on his partner with an easily blocked slash. To her, the sound of their swords clashing together in midair was jolting, but she did well to hide it and brush his blade off hers; he had gotten used to the sound over the years and showed no hints of anxiety, making him seem like a robot designed for fighting.

“Don’t go easy on me,” she commanded, sending a glare across the circle they’d created once again, shifting feet and hard breaths the only sounds in the small room they were using for training. She wasn’t sure about Oliver, but her hard breaths were coming more from how she would rather be exercising another way, involving a lot more sweat and a lot less clothes. The thought fleetingly took her focus, but she shook her head to wipe her mind; the split second was enough for him to catch her off guard.

He lunged forward, but his eyes gave his next move away: a swipe from the right, easily parried as she stepped over and let him fall a little too far forward with too much momentum for him to easily regain his balance. She took advantage of his vulnerability and hit the hilt of her blade into the small of his back, sending him to the floor with a grunt. That grunt definitely didn’t help the mental images already running through her mind, so she elected to back away, letting him scramble to his feet.

Oliver was sweating, and she found herself preoccupied by the droplets running down his skin. His hair was in a ponytail when they started, but the strands were messy now and sticking to his flesh in crazy patterns that decorated his temples and cheeks. Running a hand through it, he noticed her distracted state and yet again moved forward, lightning on his feet as he quickly disarmed her and grabbed her sword. Unable to defend herself, he walked her back with a sword at her neck until her back hit the wall.

The blade was cold, but he pressed the flat of it to her skin so as to give the illusion of threat. Eden didn’t really care. Her eyes drifted from part to part of his face, studying the way his breath came out, the way his fingers twitched as if holding back, the way he pressed his body far closer to hers than he needed to. He was tall and could barely resist the way her face looked as she had to tilt her head back to see him; her lips were parted slightly and she bit the bottom one, already plump and red and tempting. He could feel his pants growing tighter, a physical representation of the siren’s effect on his body, making his thoughts run every which way, following a constantly changing current. He realized he had been leaning down this entire time, target locked on those kissable lips that made him lose his mind, before he thought more of the consequences. He changed his path at the last second, head landing next to hers with his forehead against the wall.

“You’re dead.” Before he could think, she ripped the swords out of his hands and tossed them to the floor. “Wha--?” She landed a steel foot on his boot, drawing out a yelp that quickly morphed into a gasp as she jolted her knee into his stomach, knocking any air out. She pushed him off, sticking a foot out behind his when he stepped back to send him to the ground once again. Falling to her knees, she straddled his hips and pinned his wrists, leaning low to whisper in his ear.

“You’re dead.”

Unable to take it anymore, Oliver turned his head and kissed her, pouring every second of torturous want that he’d lived through into it. His hands curled into fists, but she continued to hold them to the ground, unwilling to relinquish her control. For a minute, he thought they were just going to stay like this: her on top of him and kissing him like she needed his lips and tongue to live. Then, her hips were grinding down into his and her teeth were sinking into his bottom lip and her lips were moving down his jaw and he was losing his breath at the overwhelming sensations of and and and.

“Eden...” he gasped, letting out a shuddering groan when her teeth grazed his earlobe.

“Lieutenant.” He was fully hard now and he knew she could feel through his trousers, but she continued teasing him with little nips and random grinding that kept him on his toes. The worst pain he was feeling was in his wrists as her nails dug in, tattooing crescents that he was sure to run his fingers over when this was all over. “Tell me what you want, Oliver.” He whimpered, drowning in the feeling of Eden everywhere on him. A swift bite to his collarbone pulled him out of his daze just enough to answer.

“More,” he groaned. She hummed, loosening her grip on his wrists. They shot up to her breasts, lightly squeezing them over her thin linen shirt, sighing at the pretty sounds falling from her pretty lips. His fingertips meandered down to her hips where he gripped the skin revealed between her shirt and pants, tugging her body down to gain the barest hint of friction, moaning loudly once he acquired it and felt his vision go fuzzy. Then she was kissing him again and the world was tilting around him and he felt like he was falling, lost in Eden. He was adrift, unanchored, loose.

It was the most exhilarating thing he had felt in a long time.

The cold air of the room bit into his skin when he looked down to find his chest exposed. She had unbuttoned and threw his shirt open, sitting back to admire the broad plans and sharp lines of muscles, honed by years of training and exercise to ensure he was in the best shape for the Navy. Eden’s eyes were hungry, predatory while they bounced from his abs to his collarbone to his face, flushed and wanting. It was then that Oliver recognized just how powerful she was in this position, and he flipped her to even the score.

“Getting bold now, are we?” she taunted, tapping at his resolve to see how thick the boundary was.

“You shouldn’t get to have all the fun. Plus,” He ran a fingertip from the valley of her breasts to the waistband of her pants, “you look so beautiful like this.” It was her turn to blush as she tried covering her face, but he imitated her by pulling and pinning her wrists to the floor above her. “You’re not getting away from me that easily.” He attached his lips to her neck, listening for the breathy moans she released while straining her arms, aching to get her hands on him.

“Oliver, please,” she whispered, flexing her hands underneath his grip.

“Tell me what you want, Eden,” he said, recalling her own words from minutes before.

“I want to touch you, Oliver. I want you to make me scream your name so loud that the Poseidon’s Revenge can hear. Please.” Her unwavering confidence took him by surprise and he loosened his grip, groaning when she used her newfound freedom to tug sharply on his hair, now fully out of the ponytail. His hips bucked at the rough treatment. “You like that? You’re a naughty lieutenant, sir.”

His eyes darkened and he climbed back off her to sit up on his knees. His hands returned to her hips, pinching lightly before moving to her thighs and forcefully tugging her hips to meet his. Wrapping her legs around his waist, they were closer than ever, and he almost couldn’t stand it.

“Undress,” he commanded, throwing his shirt off, pushing his own pants down, and fishing his cock out. She returned to her position completely naked, trembling with excitement. His hands drifted to her breasts once again, pinching and rolling her nipples between his fingers. “Good girl.” His deep voice only made her wetter for him, feeling her juices run down her thighs. “So ready for me, yeah?”

She could do nothing but nod, and he decided to let it go because he was just so desperate to feel her heat wrapped around him, to feel her shake beneath his touch at her peak, to feel her writhe under his touch as he sank himself into her and made her climax. His hands remained on her thighs when he thrusted into her entrance, letting a groan escape his throat. He was drowned out by her animalistic scream, her nails digging into the floor beneath them and leaving small scratches in the grain.

“So perfect for me,” he murmured, swallowing her moan and thrusting roughly into her. He set a cutthroat pace that left him close with just a few movements, but he wanted to hold out for her. For all his dominance and arrogance, his only desire was to pleasure her.

Well, he also wanted her to claw at his back until he bled.

His hands found themselves under her flexed shoulder blades and her arched back, pulling her up until they were pressed chest-to-chest once again. Eden’s fingernails raked his skin, most likely leaving deep scratches to heal in a week or so. It wasn’t a matter to him; Oliver knew that he was going to have new ones to replace these before that.

“Lieutenant…” she gasped, pressing her face into his neck, but he took one hand and pushed her out so he could see her, leaving one arm wrapped around her so he could hold her up.

“I want to watch you, Eden.” His tender tone and sexy words sent her over the edge, shaking in his arms as he continued to fuck into her, following her into orgasm. Their moans mixed into a sensual harmony, pure bliss washing over the couple on the floor of the training room. They both barely caught their breaths, making it harder for themselves by kissing lazily, Oliver still buried inside her.

“How’s that for training?”

Oliver let out a laugh, holding her closer and ignoring the sticky sweat covering them and the cum dribbling out of her. His response was another kiss to take the place of a promise for more.

#distant shores oliver #oliver distant shores #oliver x mc #Oliver #distant shores #distant shores choices #choices distant shores #choices #playchoices distant shores #playchoices #fanfic #fiction #fanfiction #ns*fw text #n*sfw

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writtenbyhappynerds · 5 years ago

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Unit 3: Face Claims, Please Stop Using Emily Rudd

Ok. So now lets look at face claims. Face claims are a broader topic to character creation and OCs as a whole. I like face claims. They’re great, because they allow you the writer to get in your head what the main character looks like and how they fit in with the cast and the world. I have nothing against face claims, I use them myself because I like to visualize what I’m working with. However, as we’ve seen in Unit 2, it’s on the writer to convey what the character looks like. As we’ve seen in Unit 1, the character should be cohesive with the rules of the universe. Face claims and characterization can apply the first two units very easily.

Reference images are for your eyes only, so that you can see what the character looks like. When describing a character, pull details from your reference image to explain what they look like. You do not have to be overly specific. Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way is a prime example of being overly specific, given the first paragraph of her fanfiction My Immortal is:

“Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eyeshadow.”

Never do this. I will find you and we will have a very nice conversation about how to improve your writing. Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way breaks the three big rules of characterization and character description: She drops the face claim directly in the narrative (Amy Lee, lead singer of Evanescence), she describes every characterizing feature about her (vampire teeth, ebony black hair), and she describes her complete outfit. To give a better standard of describing characters, we are going to fix Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.

Young Adult novels very often stick to height, hair color, eye color, and body shape. This is something you as an author should think about, but sticking just to this blueprint can be pretty generic. When you look at other people, those aren’t the only things you notice, right? Those aren’t even things you necessarily need! A big example of going against the grain of the standard is found in The Great Gatsby. Despite having loads of color imagery, we never learn what Daisy’s hair color or eye color is. But somehow, we don’t need them because we are supplemented with, “Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it. Bright eyes and a bright, passionate mouth.” Fitzgerald focuses on how his characters carry themselves and their facial expressions. These give descriptions of their personalities. When he does describe hair color or eye color, he does it in a way that fits with the style and vibe of his writing, and you as a writer can do the same.

In my own personal opinion, eye color does not need to be described immediately. You can save small descriptions of your characters and sprinkle them in throughout the story, rather than dumping an appearance in one paragraph. In one instance you can describe what a character’s wearing, and in another later on, describe their hair as they pull it away from their face. Describe it as it changes from the normal. Jeremy Scott’s The Ables is a great example of character description and characterization. The main character is blind, which means that the cast gets by on contrasting personalities. We don’t know the ethnicity of many of the characters until we’re halfway through the book, and the main character only learns his basic appearance because it’s been described to him by his parents. Things like eye color and hair color and how tall someone is don’t matter as a whole. What matters is how it can be applied and further the story and the personality of the character. A character having curly brown hair? Don’t necessarily need that. A character who takes the time to curl her brown hair every morning? That tells me something about that character. Small moments, and giving descriptors through details can really help you avoid the paragraph dump.

Character Bios are the bane of my existence. Do not put character bios in the beginning of your fanfiction. All you’re doing is giving me a paragraph I’m not going to read. Character bios are lazy writing. It’s low-hanging fruit to mention them as something to not do. There are so many ways to incorporate detail into a story. By putting in a character bio, you tell the reader that you either: don’t know how to incorporate these facts, are too lazy to incorporate these facts, or don’t care enough about what you’re writing to incorporate this information that we must know immediately about your character. In addition, we don’t need to know your character’s favorite color and the music they like on page one, so why do that to yourself? Not caring about your work can ruin a fanfiction. If you don’t care about what you’re putting out there, how can you expect your audience to care enough to read it.

Another important aspect of characterization is show-don’t-tell. Which we’ve all heard, but I’ve rarely seen it used. When used effectively you can draw the reader in, and allow them to use context clues to draw their own conclusions. A good rule of thumb, and the Show Don’t Tell 101 is that you show emotions, and tell feelings. You don’t need to tell me how the floor swayed under someone’s feet and they felt as if they were underwater. You can just say they felt tired that morning. However you can show emotion, and show the full range of anger and pain when someone’s upset to convey properly how that character is feeling. This is something that requires a light touch. It ties in with context clues and foreshadowing. I shouldn’t know from the third line of dialogue of a Shane Dawson fanfiction that the OC has an eating disorder. I shouldn’t know when exactly two characters are going to end up together, or when two characters are going to split apart. It should come as a surprise. An example I can give is a story I have of two spies who fall in love. From the first chapter, it’s obvious to the reader how this world is a game to them, and how they click and exist on that same wavelength. Chemistry can be obvious. Banter can be a fun way to express chemistry. What wasn’t obvious in this story, was that one of the spies would be killed by his own organization. What wasn’t obvious was how this would shape the other spy, who became the main villain of later works. If you make the narrative obvious I want you to then surprise the reader. Because you yourself will get bored. That’s why you see a lot of fanfics get dropped after three chapters- the writer has it all planned out how something will happen, and this plan becomes boring, but they don’t try to change the plot to make it more exciting. Throw in a wrench. Shoot someone. Spice it up my dudes.

We titled this chapter Please Stop Using Emily Rudd because one, we see Emily Rudd, as well as other girls who will be in an imgur album at the end of this chapter, way too often as the main OCs in fanfiction, and two, they represent a saturation and an insecurity in the market of main characters. We as writers don’t need to rely on these girls, and we actually keyhole and limit ourselves when we stick to stereotypical goth/emo girls (ex: Eugenia Cooney, Aly Antorcha, and Taylor Momsen face claims), or pale girl with dark hair and green eyes (Emily Rudd) same thing different descriptor for Nina Dobrev, or that red haired girl with green eyes who I couldn’t find a name for but she’s in almost every Harry Potter and/or Weasley sibling fanfic so you know who I’m talking about.

These girls should not be the standard of OCs. On top of that, not every OC has to be “strikingly beautiful” some of these OCs are like, 11-12 at the start of the fanfic. It’s ok to not describe how pretty they are. On top of that, not all of the world looks “strikingly beautiful” and that shouldn’t be a character descriptor. When one fanfiction I read had the love interest describe the OC as, “nothing to look at,” they contrasted everything else I’d read before because they made the beauty in that character not about what she looked like but her actions and who she was as a person. She became more beautiful as the fanfiction went on because of her personality, and by the end of it, it made sense that the love interest fell in love with her because he loved her as a person, not as an object. That’s what it boils down to. These girls don’t have to be pretty thin models and celebrities to be good face claims. Spending less time on the appearance, and more time on the personality makes for a character more beautiful and more believable than if you used some model. Don’t feed the manic pixie dream girl trend.

Moving on. Your character should not fill a hole or replace a member of the cast. They should bring a new perspective and add, not take conflict from the original work. For example, if you are writing Harry Potter fanfic, the character should not be composed of all the attitude Harry and Ron didn’t get in the movies. If you write Sherlock fanfiction, the character should not be the voice of reason to apologize for Sherlock’s antics while still doing the same things as him. In my own Psycho-Pass fanfiction, my character should not be a manifestation of Shogo Makishima’s soul. All these things do are fill holes in the story without adding to the narrative. If they were removed the story wouldn’t know they’re gone. If you can add conflict or alternative plots to the narrative, making the characters and the cast go through something they didn’t go through otherwise, you make the OC matter more. There used to be a beautiful Harry Potter fanfic that got deleted, where the OC went on full fledged adventures without the cast. She did her own thing, hanging out in the Harry Potter universe. This fanfic worked because the OC was the star of her own narrative. She wasn’t hanging on to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. They did their thing, and she did hers. It made for a great fanfic that I’m very sad to have seen the end of. Try and give your character something to do that doesn’t involve the cast. Think of it like fanfiction’s version of the Bechdel Test: Can your OC go through a chapter of fanfiction without relying on the cast.

Let’s revisit our darling, dearest, dead, Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Ravenway. Using what we’ve discussed in the previous paragraphs, I am going to attempt to fix the introduction given by our dear Enoby in Chapter One of My Immortal. Pray for me.

By Year 7 at Hogwarts, I had given up on the uniform. I’ve been at this school for too long to keep wearing the same damn thing, and as soon as I’m done I can bow out of button-ups and itchy sweaters. Professor McGonagall had a fit when I walked in last year with purple and red streaks in my hair. I smile as I imagine her face when she sees my miniskirt and corset. I sloughed in front of my mirror, carefully winging out my eyeliner and dabbling my lids with red eyeshadow. I popped on a black lip, blew myself a kiss, and felt stupid for doing so.

McGonagall didn’t even let me make the Great Hall. She marched me back, and forced me to change into the school uniform. I added pink fishnets and combat boots, and rolled my skirt up before heading back down to the Great Hall. My classmates gave me a wide berth. As I walked past a cluster of Slytherins I could hear them whisper.

“Fangy bitch.”

“Say that again?” I said setting my sights on them. “Do you really want to insult me now? I haven’t even had breakfast yet, though I could make an exception.” They scurried off. I flipped them the bird as they went, and carried on downstairs. Remus Lupin was the best thing to ever happen to this school. Yeah, he was a werewolf, but I felt a little less alone. At least there was more than one monster running around here.

Next week we will be discussing names. Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way will make a return, as well as some other names that are uncomfortable and cringy to read. This is your warning now, that in 2 weeks we will have our first exam for Fanfiction 101. I did say in the introduction that there would be an exam, and it’s on its way. We will give you more information next week when we see you to discuss Nameberry.com.

Supplemental Instruction: The aforementioned imgur album of overused face claims and OCs. Think of this like a newly minted banned book list.

https://imgur.com/gallery/SpIGZhF

#ff101 #fanfic #fanfiction101 #writing #fandom #Harry Potter #DC #Marvel #Victorious #Addams Family #Supernatural #Twilight #Sherlock #Original Works #OC #percy jackon and the olympians #Percy Jackson #Avengers #self-insert

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space-blue · 4 years ago

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The Hound of Arnas

My ports disengage, returning me to consciousness. I stay on my back for a while, gaze turned inward, browsing through the nets. While my body warms I review the datafeeds I requested before going to sleep. Soon there is nothing for me to do but roll out of my dingy alcove, one in many in this shabby plug-a-night for cyborgs and droids. No one pays me any mind as I amble through what passes as a lobby and step into the already busy street.

"Please, parts!" A hand grabs my coat. "Any parts you can spare, I beg you, for my child, all his ports are outdated, he can't link, ple–"

The beggar clamps her mouth shut the moment she realises what she is talking to, her dull eyes already hunting for more pliable targets. Smart woman. She will sooner convince an AI to donate parts off its droid body than the likes of me, and she knows it. Shells don't have parts to give. We're bio-engineered integral cyborgs. Expensive models like mine are even grown with full DNA print. Parts tailored for me in a body as perfect as one can dream. If I chopped my right hand and gave it away, no one else could use it.

However, getting this close to godhood comes with a sixty years binding contract, which is why I'm walking the trash ridden streets of an off-grids slum doing a bloodhound's job. Looking for a human here like a needle in a smelly haystack.

The first two days I spent along the dark sea and the beach–the rocky expense that once held sand, that we still call beach–where workers on long rafts poled their way through the mass of seaweeds they turn into fuel. I could have been done in half a day, talking to supervisors, or the AIs that regulate our dead ocean's shallows. But unlike its simulations, the sea has a smell and a taste, almost a presence. It fascinated me, so I took my time.

Today I walk away from the shore. I've decided to talk to locals or else I'll be here until I catch the carbon plague.

My legs take me past triage factories, down streets smelling of rancid grease, where mechanics bend over patrons' cybernetic limbs, bartering their services, weaving through cables like jungle creepers, children running past yelling the names of parts they sell; ports, encrypted 9G cards, 5D sticks, or accessory mods. Soon the street dissolves in a wider field. I scramble partway up a metal gangway that wraps around a building to the roofs. From there I can see, sprawled at my feet, the buzzing activity of the Mud-Market. Cyborg modders with four arms selling flatbreads faster than they can turn them. People sitting on crates half sunk in the eponymous mud, tearing at steamed bug-buns, furiously betting on some game only them can see. Others haggling over second-hand garments and scraps of food. Even a few ADroids weave through the crowds, projecting bright holos and loud slogans.

I sigh and sit heavily, my legs dangling over the tin roof of a partmonger. This wreathing mass of bodies discourages me, somehow. Resting my back to the wall, I turn inwards to log into official networks. I find a few agents in the area, and summon the closest, Agt. Edenton, an ID officer.

Before long, three kids come running out of the market, out of breath with laugher. I look down. One of them, a little blond fellow, doesn't register to my eyes. Unchipped. Or, more likely, never chipped: someone's illegal brood. Another has a cybernetic arm made of scraps. Both wave at the third, a black haired runt not possibly past seven, who leaves them to enter the street. The gangway quivers under me, heralding the kid's approach. He sits not far, flashes his credentials–this is indeed Edenton– and opens a private channel for us to discuss away from prying eyes or ears, for all the world just two strangers enjoying the view before them.

'What's a pricey Shell like you doin' here?'

I stifle a laugh. The voice that popped in my head is a deep man's bass, completely out of place coming from the scrawny boy. Edenton gives me a withering look, and I sober up as I realise what an ID officer's job would be, shelled as a kid. Hunt unchipped children like the one I'd seen, gain their trust, follow them home, have it tagged, maybe chip them himself. The kind of job you got because someone thought you deserved it...

I poke his arm, surprised to find him made out of regular flesh.

'Is this a BioShell? Aren't those pretty rare and pricey as well? Incubation is hard to do.'

Edenton's frail shoulders shrug. 'They make kids like me easily, they don't try for perfection. The body decays after a year, so we swap regularly. It's just a pain to be in a tube for two months while a new body grows around you.'

I'd shiver, if my body could.

To answer Edenton's own question, I display my working seals and credentials, and watch his eyes widen. A military Shell in the direct employ of Arnas CEO, wielding seals that give her unlimited power is a scary sight, I'm sure.

'This is Halena Tesselandottir,' I say, flashing pictures of a young woman. 'Used to live in the grids, legal as you please and pretty bigwigged. Took her chip off, came to those slums.' I wave my hand, letting Edenton imagine the sort of drama that could push someone to such extremes. 'Back then she was a modder.' Lists of parts and softwares join the pictures. 'Augmentations, but no cybernetic replacements. I'm pretty sure she downgraded, since many mods are trackable. She was spotted in this slum, so I was sent to find her. I'd like some help.'

An order dressed as a request that Edenton accepts with good graces. In no time he comes up with a cunning plan that won't damage his cover, and I mentally pat myself on the back for involving him.

We weave our way through narrow streets, continuing our secret dialogue. I learn that Edenton has been undercover in this slum for four years, and soon guess that he got there by asking too many questions. He's fourty-two, single, grumpy. We spend some time polishing our plot in a back alley. We'll need our public feeds to display some action to look credible.

Finally ready, I step into a wider street, Edenton's weightless body cradled in my arms, and stumble towards an older woman, busy smoking in front of a brothel. Edenton's notion being that such Madams know everything, and everyone.

"Seima," I call, picking her name from her public feed, "this kid just crashed into me. He banged his head hard..."

Seima rushes up to us with a face like Edenton is her own grandchild. She looks at me with narrowed eyes. Can't blame her for mistrusting a Shell in a muddy coat, but my public feed has a record of the entire "incident" we orchestrated, and Edenton moans, the voice passing his lips a mewling so pitiful that I stare as well. His feed flashes with one of the pictures of Halena I gave him.

"He's been showing that image the whole time, could it be his mother? If you know her, maybe I could leave him to you..."

It's the magical words. Trying to shirk my responsibilities, am I? She'll find the boy's mom in no time, she swears, and furiously propagates Halena's picture through her personal network. Finding where Halena (or Hena, as she now goes by) works is a matter of minutes. The hardest part of the job is to pry Madam Seima off Edenton.

Out of sight I put him back on his legs, and we hurry to intercept Halena before someone warns her that we've been asking after her.

It's almost too easy. She's exactly where we were told. Unchipped, so nearly impossible to track, she was betrayed by the simplest of human drives, everyone's inherent need to network and socialise.

Edenton's bass vibrates in my skull. 'What are you gonna do?'

He follows me over crumbled walls and up stairwells that lead us to a rooftop. Lying down, we can spy on Halena and her companions, sorting garbage, probably paid by the amount of recyclable they can sift.

I scan her face, still young, but scarred by the mods she took off her temples and neck, as I'd guessed. I extend my arm, fingers splayed, lock, breathe out, and fire. My shoulder joint shifts, swallows the recoil. People scream, run to cover. Edenton jumps, grabs me with his little hands. In the street her blood flows, joining the streams of dark fluids down the gutter. Half her head is gone.

"Why," Edenton cries. "What did she do to deserve that?!"

"I never asked," I reply, "and neither should you."

~~ April 2016 – Theme : Dystopia – Don't want to toot my own horn, but this story marks one year and one month of writing, and the progress is rather evident. It is my favourite of my older pieces.

#original work #original story #competition #scifi #dystopia #cyberpunk

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summahsunlight · 5 years ago

Text

We Belong to the Stars, CH.1

Word Count: 2828

Pairing: Poe/OFC

Characters: Poe Dameron, Leia Organa, BB-8, Kaleb Skywalker (OC), Evelyn Skywalker (OC), Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, Kylo Ren

A Resistance spy has sent vital information about the First Order’s super weapon before his untimely death at the hands of Kylo Ren. Now, it's a race against time to obtain the information before the First Order destroys it. Leia sends members of the Resistance's top squadron in the hopes that they can track the information down before its too late.

A/N: This story takes place in the verse that my Drabble series ( Pathways ) verse sets up. You don't need to read those to necessarily to understand what's going on in this story however. I hope you enjoy it!

AO3

Unknown Regions, 33 ABY

There was no time for escape once the first Star Destroyer showed up in system.

His only hope of getting the information he possessed to the Resistance, then he had to transmit it. Since no one knew their exact location, there was no way it would reach them directly; he was going to have to get creative. Plugging in the code for one of his more trusted contacts from his days in the New Republic's Intelligence Core, he slipped the disc into the computer, frantically downloading the information he had gathered for the last six months. It had been General Organa’s idea to get some on the inside, Lothor had been one of the Republic’s top-notch spies—it only made sense for him to infiltrate the First Order.

He'd made it pretty far up the ranks until Kylo Ren suspected him.

Screaming outside the door announced the arrival of the enemy. Lothor looked at the screen, desperately. Still fifty percent of the information needed to be downloaded. He knew that it would take those bucketheads a while to break through the coded door, he just hoped it was enough. Thirty-five percent. Something began to cut through the heavy armor of the door, the tip of a red light saber. Lothor could feel the fear running through him—through the tiny little outpost he had taken refuge in when fleeing the First Order.

Kylo Ren, the demon behind a metal mask.

Twenty-five percent. Lothor unholstered his blaster and aimed it at the door. He knew it would not hold off Kylo, he’d seen the man stop blast bolts mid-air, but it would provide a distraction, perhaps one long enough for the rest of the information to send to the Senator.

One hand on the controls of the computer, one eye watching as it ticked down, while the other hand held the blaster, the other eye watched as the metal of the door fell away. Kylo stepped into the room, face hidden behind a mask. “Agent Lothor. The plans—you will stop that transmission immediately.”

“Make me,” Lothor snapped, firing at the dark side user. He wasn’t surprised when Kylo easily deflected the blasts with his saber.

“My patience is wearing thin,” Kylo snarled, holding his hand out and snatching Lothor in a paralyzing grasp. “The plans—now!”

Lothor managed to glance at the computer, even if he was being held against his will with the Force. It was blinking: transmission sent. “You’re too late, Ren. The plans are in the hands of the Resistance.”

Kylo hissed, tightening his hold on the spy. “I will just trace the transmission.”

As if on cue, the computer console overheated, wires sparking and igniting, sending small plumes of smoke into the air. Lothor managed a weak smile. “Doesn’t seem like you’ll be able to. You can certainly give it a try, but I highly doubt you'll be successful. Even if you are, good luck breaking through all the encryption codes.”

“I will get those plans back, traitor,” Kylo said.

“Like I said; good luck,” Lothor snapped.

Those were his last words. Kylo Ren cut him down and left his body behind.

Resistance Transport Ship

It was incredibly difficult to sleep on a transport ship.

Commander Poe Dameron—formally of the New Republic Navy, now a full-fledged member of the Resistance—had given up an hour ago to catch some shut eye. He laid on a bottom bunk, one arm behind his head, eyes staring up at the sleeping form of one of his lieutenants. He regarded Iolo Arana and Karé Kun as family; he was both happy and relieved that they were joining him on this journey. All three were tired of their hands being tied, of being told not to engage the First Order. Well, the Navy’s lack of response had cost Lieutenant Muran his life and would have cost Poe his commission if Leia Organa had not taken notice.

Rolling over onto his side, Poe took a deep, steadying breath. He’d been shocked to see Leia when he landed back on Mirrin Prime after directly disobeying Lonno Deso’s orders. It had been five years since he’d seen her, five years since she formed the Resistance—five years since he’d walked away from the woman he loved without ever letting her know how he truly felt. Squeezing his eyes shut, Poe fought his emotions, fought to push the image of Evelyn’s face the night they said goodbye from his mind. He felt the same twist in his gut, the same clench of his heart, whenever he thought about her. He’d been so young and stupid five years ago, walking away from her at her most vulnerable hour because he had some stupid oath to the Republic to honor…

“You thinking about her?” Iolo mumbled next to him.

“Every waking hour,” Poe mumbled back.

Iolo sat up on his bunk. The Kershian had been there when things had all gone to hell five years ago, he’d been there when they had gone to hell five days ago. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say to her when you see her?”

Poe winced. No, he had not thought about it, even though he knew it was going to be unavoidable. She would be there; she would be fighting right alongside her aunt to protect the galaxy from tyranny. “What can I say to her? I left, Iolo…”

The other man sighed, pushing his hair back. “How about starting with I’m sorry.”

His chest tightened. “Yeah… that probably is a good place to start.”

Karé shifted above him, her voice sleepily calling down, “And then you should probably tell her what an idiot you are, you know, for walking away from her like that—after she pleaded with you to join her, to fight with her.”

“And after giving her that really expensive, beautiful pendant,” Iolo added.

“Right. I forgot about the kyber crystal,” Karé said. “Stars, Poe, you suck at the romance thing.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Poe whispered, harshly, noticing that their conversation was disturbing the recruits that had managed to fall asleep on the transport. “I suck at romance.”

Iolo glanced at the commander, then up at Karé. In the last five years, they’d watched as Poe pined away for Evelyn, even making some desperate attempts to move on from her that never really panned out because, quite frankly, Poe had never stopped loving Evelyn. “Maybe you should also throw in there that you love her,” he said, then shrugged his shoulders, “you know, just a suggestion.”

Poe rolled onto his back once again, rubbing his hands over his face. What if she’s moved on? What if she doesn’t love me? These thoughts had plagued him for a while now, but more so since he agreed to go with Leia back to the Resistance. “I don’t know if that’s what she wants to hear… it’s been five years Iolo, anything could have happened in those five years.”

Karé clicked her tongue. “You think she’s moved on? Well… I guess with how you left things… I don’t say I blame her if she did.”

Neither do I, Poe thought, instantly hating himself. I broke her heart, I made her believe that the Republic was more important than she was. Kun is right—you are an idiot.

It was with this thought on the brain that Poe fell into a restless sleep. He was woken by the transport coming out of hyperspace and the lights going from dim to harsh. Inwardly groaning, Poe climbed out from underneath his bunk, grabbing his duffel at his feet. He slung the bag over his shoulder and woke BB-8 from his low power mode. The droid buzzed to life, asking if they had arrived at their new destination. “We have for now, buddy, let’s go.”

BB-8 followed behind the three pilots, his photoreceptor taking in the scene. They were on a bright, shiny, refitted Mon Calamari cruiser. In the hanger there were various makes of starfighters, mostly slightly older models of X-wings. He was happy that his master had not left him behind, that he believed he could do some good for the Resistance as well.

A slender, very young woman with dark hair, met the three pilots at the end of the ramp. Poe tossed her a smile. “Hi Korrie,” he said, recalling the nickname that Leia had often used with her. “Are you the welcoming committee?”

Korr Sella pulled her lips into a small smile. “Commander. Yes, I guess you could say in a way I am the welcoming committee. General Organa wanted to meet with you as soon as you arrived. I’m here to take you to her. Lieutenant Kun, Lieutenant Arana, someone will be along to help you get settled into your quarters. I’m sure you’re all tired from your trip. I know how difficult it can be to sleep on those transports.”

Poe glanced at his squad, gave them a slight nod that it was okay, and then left the hanger with Korr—BB-8 following closing behind him. They were led through the stark white corridors until they reached the General’s private office. The young woman entered a code in the keypad, and the doors opened.

“Commander Dameron has arrived, General,” Korr announced as they stepped into her space.

“About time,” Leia Organa quipped from behind her desk. She rose her whisky brown eyes to his and smiled, “What took you so long, Poe?”

“Stubbornness?” Poe offered, because he didn’t have any other explanation.

Leia chuckled. “I guess that’s good as any explanation as I’m ever going to get.”

Poe smiled, sadly. “Maybe I just needed to see things for myself.”

“Perhaps. And now that you’ve seen these things do you see what I was talking about five years ago?”

“Yes ma’am, and I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner.”

“I’m not sure I’m the one that you really need to be apologizing to, Poe,” Leia said, softly.

“I know,” Poe replied in a near whisper, casting his eyes downward.

Leia took a deep breath, sympathy filling her brown eyes. “I’m sorry, Poe, about Lieutenant Muran. He was a good pilot.”

Poe nodded in agreement. “An even better man.”

BB-8 warbled in agreement, which caused Leia to smile. “I see you still have your droid.”

“Wouldn’t trade him for anything in the galaxy, ma’am,” Poe said, with fondness. “He’s saved my life quite a few times.”

“And for that the Resistance is thankful,” Leia commented. “I don’t know how much Korrie was able to tell you, but we lost our wing commander a few weeks ago, my fighter squadrons have been a royal mess and we haven’t been able to send anyone out on any missions, except recruiting. I’ve thought about giving the job to Kaleb or Evelyn, but they don’t have military training—can outfly most of our pilots—but lack the strategic planning, formation knowledge.”

Poe remained neutral. He had no doubt that Kaleb or Evelyn Skywalker had the piloting skills to be wing commander, however, Leia was right—neither of them had been trained by the military. “Is this like the old days, when you would comm me and ask for advice on pilots and if I thought they were up for the job?”

Leia smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Something like that,” she said. “Lieutenant Kun and Arana are due promotions, both capable leaders in their own right. I have about twelve pilots that just entered the ranks and I think they could whip them into shape fast.”

He titled his head to the side, glanced at BB-8, and nodded in agreement with the General. “Both are fine pilots, would make great squadron leaders. Although, I’d hate to lose them… it’s time for them to move up in the ranks. They’ve more than earned it.”

She continued to smile at him. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Poe. Because I feel you need to move up in the ranks as well—you’ve more than earned it. I only wish I could see the look on the brass' faces when they find out what I’ve done. You angered a lot of people higher up.”

“I did what I thought was right, ma’am.”

“I know. And stop calling me ma’am.”

“Do you prefer General?”

“I prefer Leia.”

Poe smiled, shyly. He felt that he needed to earn her respect back before he ever started calling her Leia. “Give me more time with that, General.”

Leia shook her head and handed him a data pad. “We’re going to be working together a lot, Commander Dameron, if you’re going to be our wing commander.”

His dark brown eyes went wide for a second. Poe could hear BB-8 beeping and warbling, brushing his dome against the pilot’s calf. “Ma’am—General—Leia…are you sure?” he stammered, not sure what to call her or what to say, exactly.

She grinned at him and stretched her hand out, offering a firm handshake. “I never make decisions lightly, Poe. As I told you on Mirrin Prime, we need passionate right about now, someone devoted to doing the right thing at all times, even if that means getting a little reckless here and there. So, congratulations. Now, your first official order of business—go to your quarters, get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning at zero seven hundred to meet with the others.”

“Yes ma’am,” Poe said with a slight grin, finally feeling like he was actually doing something about the First Order.

“Poe,” Leia called to him just before Korr led him to his quarters, “you need to talk to her, and soon; you’ve already waited five years too many, don’t you think?”

Yes, I probably should have chased after that transport five years ago; said goodbye to the Navy—but Papa, how could I turn my back on him? Poe knew that was a ridiculous excuse, his father would have supported his decision no matter what. “Does she even want to…see me?”

Leia sized him up for a moment, how the usually cool, confident young man was so absolutely unsure of himself when it came to speaking to her niece. “I don’t have the answer to that question. I can tell you that in the months after we left Hosnian Prime, she kept trying to find answers as to why you walked away.”

Poe winced, his eyes catching sight of BB-8. “Did you tell her because I was a coward?”

“I didn’t tell her anything. Other than you had your reasons for staying behind.”

“I put my oath before her.”

“Common mistake that a lot of good leaders make, Poe.”

“General Organa… I never meant… I didn’t want to hurt her.”

Her stance softened, a motherly look coming to her eyes. Leia knew this, he did not need to tell her. Poe had been there the night the Jedi Temple had been destroyed, he’d been there when Evelyn and Kaleb had revealed that it was her own son that had perpetrated it all and if circumstances were slightly different, perhaps Poe would have been there when she formed the Resistance. However, that was all in the past. “Just talk to her, Commander. You both need closure.”

His shoulders slumped, slightly, and he nodded, looking more exhausted than he had five minutes ago. Poe heard Leia order him to get some sleep once again, and he was off, following Korr. She made small talk; he could tell she was feeling slightly uncomfortable given all the history that Poe shared with Leia and her family. BB-8 certainly perked up when the young woman mentioned that they had already placed a charging station on Poe’s quarters for him. Poe smiled, tiredly. “Thanks. He really hates charging in the hanger. Too cold for him.”

Korr shot him a funny look. “Do droids feel temperature?”

Poe shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s just what he’s told me. Besides, he’s my pal, and I kinda hate the idea of him alone in that hanger.”

“There are other droids charging in the hanger,” Korr pointed out.

“Yeah but none as special as BeeBee,” Poe supplied, scratching his droid for good measure.

She rolled her eyes and left him for the night outside of his new living space. He took a deep breath and keyed the code in. Stepping inside he could make out a small sitting area with a sofa, chair, and table; there was a desk on the far-right side, and on the left a door to the refresher and his bedroom. Next to the sofa he could see BB-8’s charging station.

Poe heaved a sigh as the door closed behind him. “Home sweet home,” he murmured to the droid.

BB-8 brushed against him, softly beeping.

“I’m fine, buddy, tired,” Poe assured the droid. He dropped his bag down near the sofa. “Why don’t you plug in for the night? Sounds like we have a busy day tomorrow.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #evelyn skywalker (oc)#kaleb skywalker (oc)#kare kun #Iolo arana #leia organa #bb-8 #kylo ren #black squadron #we belong to the stars

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thecrystalye199 · 4 years ago

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The Hero Archetype

The Jungian archetypes, developed by Swiss psychologist Carl Jung, theorized that everyone shared instinctive patterns and universal characters (Fordham, 2020). In simpler terms, Jung realized that there existed a number of these archetypes - model images of a person or a role - that everyone can recognize and personally connect to. And while these archetypes exist in people throughout society, the model images of these roles have largely been adapted in storytelling and are often incarnated as characters in myths, novels, and films (Psychologist World, 2020).

An overview of the Jungian archetypes:

After reading about each of these archetypes, and completing a questionnaire to determine if I am living any of them, I found myself connecting the most with the Hero archetype - establishing that the Hero’s role and characteristics actually play a huge part in driving my actions and forming the foundation to my beliefs.

The Story

When you analyze the narrative of the Hero throughout stories, films, and real life, the progression of the hero story line follows similar characteristics - they start off as just another person (not the hero yet), finds themselves in circumstances that begins to challenge everything they are and believes to be through multiple trials and tribulations (Jeffrey, 2018). However, the end of the story typically results in success and closure with some gain of tremendous spiritual and mental value. Ultimately, fuelled by their desire to prove their worth, their goal is to improve the world by doing things for others while always believing that there is always a way to accomplish what they have their sights set on.

Why the Hero?

I was initially drawn to the Hero archetype because of how prevalent the Hero role was in modern storytelling and film, and then it dawned on me how easy it was to relate the story and feel like I was living it. Growing up, movie nights at the cinema with the family were the days I looked forward to the most. On these days, pulling up to the parking lot already had me drooling over the popcorn we would always get, waiting in line had me anticipating the next superhero movie I had always begged to watch, and sitting in those big (at the time, for my size) comfortable movie seats ensured my eyes were always glue to the screen from the beginning of the movie to the end. Marvel movies were my favourite - and still are - because of the wins that always resulted by the end of the movie, the will to save humanity and those who couldn’t help themselves, and the pure fact that it was badass. Whether it was Iron Man, Spiderman, or Black Widow, I would always leave the theatre talking to my own version of J.A.R.V.I.S., pretending to shoot webs from my wrists, or believing that I could grow up to be a world-class spy.

So from the young age of 5, I started fantasizing of what it would be like to be the hero. Being a child who loved to live in my own fantasies, I always thought about how cool it was if when the day would come where I would wake up with my own powers. I was convinced it would happen and no one could convince me otherwise. Needless to say, however, that day never came. I came to possess the ability to shoot webs from my wrists, superhuman strength, or some type of badass, superhuman anything. And yet, growing up, I still realized that the need to be the hero and living the hero story still very much exists inside of me. I am drawn to this archetype because, aside from the fantasy world these movies take place in, the ability to be the hero is not absent from my life.

The Hero in Me

“When life puts you in a tough situation, don’t say ‘why me’ say ‘try me’.” (Brand Personalities, 2020)

To me, being the hero is about making a difference, standing up for myself and others, being someone that others can count on, and holding firm on the beliefs and values that drive me as an individual. Although my life may not replicate the storylines in the superhero movies that I love so much, the hero in me exists in her own way. Younger me always felt like just one-in-seven-billion, but the support of my family (pictured) made me believe that there was more to life than just feeling like I should merely fit in. Since I was old enough to have dreams for myself, my parents have always told me that I could reach for the stars if I wanted to. They taught me resilience, never giving up, and being a kind person which, in my opinion, are all qualities of the type of hero I am capable of being. Like the supportive people my parents were to me, I try to emulate that same help and support to those who I am fortunate enough to have in my life. Being a hero to me today means doing everything I can, when given the opportunity, to help those who might need the extra hand and to grow into the best version of myself that I can be when putting my best foot forward.

One specific role I play that particularly makes me feel like a hero is the fact that I am a big sister. With an age gap of nine years, the best part of my brother and I’s relationship is the fact that I can support him through all of the different emotional and life stages that I have already experienced for myself. No matter if it’s high school math, friendship/relationship problems, or just a pure bad day, knowing that I can be the person my brother can consistently count on and go to means the world to me.

The Caveat

The hero is a lot of great things but like everything else requires the balancing of the good and bad sides of many traits. Although persistent, eager, and confident, the Hero can evolve to be arrogant if not kept humble or reminded of the primary purpose for their actions. My tendency to always feel like I can “fix” everything has, on multiple occasions, resulted in my failure to complete or excel at anything at all. Sometimes, I have taken on too much than I can handle at work because I failed to evaluate how much bandwidth I had. Similarly, sometimes I have worried too much for other people and failed to leave enough time to dedicate to myself. As a result, it is necessary to not lose sight of why a task was important to take on in the first place and maybe even knowing when to give up when it might be needed. I ask myself: Am I putting myself out there because I can, or just because I want to?

The Heros in Humanity

The biggest display of heroism are the acts I see other people do as a means to help those who cannot help themselves. If you took some time to observe others in the world, it can be amazing what you might realize about our humankind. Some of us have a voice, some of us don’t. Some of us are capable of helping, and some of us need that extra helping hand sometimes. While life may not be a story of the destroying of mythical villains to save humankind, it is the story of ridding of our own demons that hold us back from being kind to one another. Fundamentally, we all start in the same place, but our own life journey and story can be written to be whatever we’d like it to be. We all have shared dreams we want to attain: to be the best version of ourselves, to be able to be depended on by others, and to support the ones that we love and care for. But in between these fundamentals is finding the drive and passion that pushes us through the monumental moments of our lives in order to do so. Everyone’s hero story is different - some are fuelled by the unquenchable thirst for success, some are fuelled by the ever-growing need to help others, and some are fuelled by the combination of both. No matter what it is, being a hero is not something that is unattainable, but rather a something that anyone can, and should, strive to be.

Works Cited

Brand Personalities. (2020). The Hero. Retrieved from Brand Personalities: https://brandpersonalities.com.au/personalities/the-hero/

Fordham, F. (2020, June 2). Carl Jung. Retrieved from Britannica: https://www.britannica.com/biography/Carl-Jung

Jeffrey, S. (2018). The Hero Archetype: Friend or Foe?Retrieved from CEOsage: https://scottjeffrey.com/hero-archetype/

Psychologist World. (2020). Carl Jung: Archetypes and Analytical Psychology. Retrieved from Psychologist World: https://www.psychologistworld.com/cognitive/carl-jung-analytical-psychology

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bluebellhairpin · 6 years ago

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Domestic

Loki Laufeyson/Odinson X Fem!Reader

A/N: I dunno what this one is. I don’t even know when in the MCU timeline it happened, but it’s Loki fluff, so ya’ll wont mind, I’m sure. Enjoy. - Nemo P.S. Easter Egg for Anime fans. Kudos if you get it.

Summary: There are many memories that you’ve gained over the years from living with the God of Mischief. Here are a list of occasions that you like the most; some are happy, others sad, some are pure, some funny, and others that you wish the whole world could’ve seen.

Warning!: Possible trigger warning in one of the sections. If you believe it could be a trigger, it’s titled ‘VIII. Happy Pills’, so you’d just have to skip over it if you decide to read this anyway.

Masterlist

I. Save the Kitten

“Damn, not again.” You mumbled, hands on your hips as you stared up at the tall branches of the tree.

“With a name like Fiberglass I’d not wan’t to come down too.”

“Shut up Loki.” You said, thumping the god on the shoulder before making your way towards the trunk, preparing to start climbing.

“What are you doing now?” He said with a frown, seeing you begin to place your hands and feet up on the rough bark.

“I’m getting her back. What does it look like I’m doing; drawing a bath?” You called, mocking his accent while you made quick work of climbing.

“You’ve done this before.” Loki stated, ignoring your jab at his moral, instead noting that you climbed up this particular tree as if you did it regularly. You shot him a look, he rolled his eyes. “I was just pointing it out.”

“Yeah well, stop pointing it out and prepare yourself to catch Fiberglass.” You said, now having reached the young cat and scooping it up into your hands. “Usually I’d just carry her down, but now you’re here it’ll make it a lot easier.”

“Maybe I should make you carry her down. Could be quite entertaining.”

“Loki, I swear to-”

“Okay, okay. Just give her here.”

II. Sunsets

Since you had been entrusted with the care of Loki, S.H.I.E.L.D made sure there was plenty of space where you lived. Meaning you moved out of your old apartment in downtown Queens soon after Loki arrived, and into a house in the area of New Haven. The house came complete with floor-to-ceiling windows and a rooftop deck.

You especially loved the deck, and whatever nights you could you were up there with a blanket watching the sunset.

“Why don’t you watch the sunrises too? They’re just as beautiful.” Loki had joined you tonight, bringing an extra blanket and two cups of something hot and great-tasting.

“You should know me by now, I don’t wake up early enough for that.” You laughed.

“True.”

“Plus, with sunsets, you can start to watch the stars come out too.” Loki smiled at that. It seemed he was rather impartial to stars too.

You both settled into a comfortable silence, his shoulder was pressed next to yours as you sipped your drinks. The sky swirled in shades of pale blue, pink, orange, red, and purple. It was putting up quite the show tonight.

“What is this drink?” You asked randomly, watching the liquid swish in your cup.

“Magic!” He said, putting his newly-learnt jazz-hands to use.

“You’re a moron.”

“You love me. Everyone does.”

III. Say Cheese!

“C’mon! Just one nice picture.” You whined, letting the hand that was holding your phone go limp.

“No. I’m not going to become one of your models. Too many people still hate me for the New York attack.”

“I wont use this one for social media, I have plenty others for that, and those only have your silhouette.” You pouted. “This one’ll be for me.” You added quietly, however Loki heard you rather clearly.

“Tch, give it here.” He said, snatching the phone from your hand and puling you close, pressing the button, effectively taking his first selfie before giving the phone back. “There. No stop whining.”

You looked at the photo, fining Loki looking the happiest he ever had looked, and you still had a look of shock/pout stuck on your face.

Loki was actually very happy you kept insisting on the photo, in fact he was rather happy you wanted to spend time with him at all; so he figured he could let that one photo be a outlet for his hidden happiness.

You frowned, a little disappointed in yourself for ruining an otherwise great photo.

“You should send that to me.” Loki asked, looking over your shoulder as you stared at the digital image.

“O-Oh, sure.” You said, choosing to ignore your stuttering and instead smile up at the Asgardian.

“Cute.” Loki breathed, making sure you wouldn’t hear.

IV. My Nephews are Twins

“I didn’t know you knew magic too!”

“I don’t. You’re overreacting.” You bluntly said, brushing some of your nephew’s hair away from his face as he ate cereal. “This is Eren. The one you saw outside is Jean.”

“You gave you’re magic names?”

“Loki! Listen to me!” You started, slapping Loki across the face, Eren giggled at the action. Loki faced you with a look of disbelief. “Eren and Jean are twins. Did you not have twins in Asgard or something?”

“We do, it’s-it’s just where did they come from? No one in their right mind would leave their children near a monster like me.” At this comment, you pulled Loki away from Eren and into the hallway.

“You’re only a monster if you let people tell you that you’re one.” You started, placing your hand on his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “You’re no monster to me; you’re Loki, the man whose trying to right his wrongs.” You finished, taking in a deep breath as you released his face.

He missed your touch; you were so warm compare to him.

“You turn blue. It’s awesome.” Eren and Jean said, speaking in chilling synchronization. Loki scooted behind you, making sure he had a sort of shield between him and the twins.

“Are they possessed?” Loki whispered, keeping his eyes on the boys.

“No. They just have powers. Like Steve and Bruce.”

“What kind of powers do they have?”

“Linked telepathic communication and self cloning.” The twins said. Loki shrieked and ran off, clearly shaken by your nephews.

V. Ice Skating - Not For Loki

You couldn’t stop laughing.

“I’m a frost giant.” He said.

“That’s ice, and it’s basically just walking without lifting your feet.” He said.

“How hard can it be?” He said.

He was so very, very wrong.

He slid across the ice with his hands outstretched, his legs wobbled, and he’d already fallen over three times even though you’d been here for less than fifteen minuets. And he kept screaming at you to help him and “stop laughing this IsNt fUnnY.”.

In short, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself while Loki was practically dying of embarrassment.

“I’m never doing that again.” Loki grumbled, angrily untying his skates. You’d just managed to stop laughing enough to grab him and pull him off the ice.

“Sure you will, it just takes a lot of practice.”

“Practice my ass-”

“Loki! Language!”

“You’re not getting me to embarrass myself like that again.”

“Sure I’m not.” You laughed.

VI. I’m a Snake

You woke up this particular morning feeling a bit tingly. And long. And smaller. You looked down at yourself, realising that your normal human body was replaced by a snake’s.. You went to let out a scream, but only a hiss came out.

You moved yourself over to one of your mirrors, finding that now you were a rather pretty Taipan. You frowned, as much as a snake could, and figured it was probably Loki’s fault.

However, he did have his magic taken away, meaning something might be wrong with him, or he was reverting back to his villain-like state.

You made your way into his room, finding he was still in bed, so you managed to worm your way on top of the covers. He had a couple tissues clutched in his hand and his nose was a bit red.

He had a cold.

You chose to slither around his neck and poke your snake-tongue in his ear. He shot up with a start, sneezing and rubbing his ear as he did so.

“Wha- Ah! How’d you get in!” He shrieked, knowing full-well that if you were a real Taipan, that you could cause a lot of bodily damage.

“It’s me you moron.” You tried to say, thinking he wouldn’t understand.

“(y/n)? What happened?” Turns out he did understand.

“You, Loki. You happened.”

“It must’ve been a fluke.” He said, sneezing again.

“Fluke or not, change me back before I bite you.” You hissed, sliding further around his neck.

“Okay. I’d have to take you to my brother or S.H.I.E.L.D to do it.”

“I don’t care who we go to! Just change me back!”

“That’s weird, Taipan’s aren’t usually this aggressive.”

“Loki!”

VII. What’s Your Tragic Backstory?

“You’ve really never been here before?” You asked, entering through the glass door and instantly smelling old books with a hint of tea and adventure.

“It’s not like the higher-ups want be away from you.” Loki said, closing the door gently behind him as he watched you begin to wander through the isles of books. “Why did they leave me with you? As far as you’ve let on, you have no powers at all.”

“That’s the point.” You mumbled, running your hands along a row of old and new book spines. “I’ve never really liked my powers; as far as I’m concerned I should be the one locked up, not you.”

“What could be so bad about them? It’s not like you were controlled by Thanos.” He said, continuing to follow you as you then made your way towards a spiral staircase; you made no comment. “Were you?” He added, quieter this time as you stopped a couple steps higher than him, leaving you eye-level with the god.

“Loki, please, I don’t want to talk about it. At least not here.”

“There’s no one here. No other customers, and the clerk is asleep. It’s not like anyone would know.”

“I unwillingly killed hundreds for him. I remember it all. Every last plead for life; for a second chance. Sometimes he still tries to get to me, but I manage to shake him off.” You blurted, deciding to just let him know what's happened.

“So why are you here, working with the Avengers if you done so many wrongs?”

“I remember all my training; meaning I’m a better spy that Natasha Romanoff. I was also genetically engineered; Where Steve Rogers fights like a hundred men, I fight like a thousand. I’m a huge asset for them.” You finished, moving yo continue up the stairs but Loki caught your arm and turned you back to him.

“You don’t need to worry about hurting me. I... I have the same feeling about you. I don’t want to hurt you because of what I’ve done in the past.”

“Thank you Loki.”

VIII. Happy Pills

“What are these?”

“It’s just some med’s Loki.”

“Hogwash. I’ve been around Midguardians for six months now. The label says that they’re not just med’s.” Loki said, rattling the pills around in their bottle.

“Better question; what’re you doing in my stuff?” You said, setting down you book and snatching the bottle out of his hands.

“You were acting different to usual. I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything too rational. Contrary to that, turns out instead of doing something, you weren’t doing something.” He started, you groaned feeling a lecture coming on. “I can’t believe you thought you could trick me, of all people. Now tell me, and don’t you dare lie, what are these for?” He hissed grabbing hold of your arm to make sure you wouldn’t run away any further than you had.

“They’re just to help.” You sighed. “They help with Thanos. And the nightmares. They keep me happier.” You mumbled, the grip on your arm loosening as Loki then pulled you into a tight embrace. You felt a couple tears escape your eyes as you wrapped your arms around Loki.

“It may sound hypocritical coming from me, but talking helps. And you can talk to me, even at the times when it seems I don’t care.” He mumbled into your hair. You sniffed and tightened your hold around his torso, smooshing your face further into his chest.

“Why do you care about me so much?”

“We have a lot in common. Plus, as much as I’d hate to have to admit; you, my dear mortal, have wormed you way into my heart. I’m afraid I care about you an awful lot.”

“Oh, you’re so romantic.”

“You love it.” He breathed out a laugh, you too let out a giggle.

“I think you’re right; as much as I’d hate to have to admit.”

IX. Starry Eyes

“You get weird after two in the morning, you know that?”

“Good morning to you too.” You mumbled, rolling over in your bed to throw an arm over Loki’s chest. He let out a mock ‘oof’ when it landed on his shirt-clad torso; acting as it your arm was led instead of flesh and bone.

“No seriously.” He laughed, bringing your hand up to lay a kiss on your palm. “It’s like if your not asleep by a certain time you go to instant tipsy-mode. Do you even remember what happened?”

“No. I didn’t do anything too embarrassing, right?” You asked, prying an eye open to look over at a smiling Loki.

“Nothing embarrassing. You eyes just turned into galaxies.”

“What, really?” You said, sitting up in surprise as Loki nodded.

“Sure did darling. Right before you passed out and I had to carry you back here.” He said, patting the mattress as he explained.

“Which galaxy?” You asked, leaning back down into his arms as a gentle smile rested on your lips.

“One of the ones on the outer rims of this realm.”

“Is it pretty?”

“Nothing can compare to your beauty. You held the stars in your eyes last night, and you made them glorious. They are not that breathtaking when I see them in person, only when they are part of you.”

“Aw, Loki! You’re so poetic!”

“Well, you know what they say; love so passionately that Shakespeare rises from the dead to capture it.”

X. Blue Is Good

“Loki, it’s fine. No one got hurt.”

“That doesn’t matter. Just leave (y/n).”

“No, I won’t - I can’t. I owe you that much.” You said, leaning your head on the door. It was cold, colder than normal.

“You own me nothing! Monsters like me don’t deserve a love like yours! I’m not worth it!” He yelled, you stayed silent. He’d been in his Jotun form before, never in front of you and especially not in front of other Midguardians. You knew he viewed himself as a monster; but you thought he’d gone passed that now, you thought you’d convinced him otherwise.

“I know you don’t like your Jotunheim heritage Loki, and Thor has spoken of the dispute between your people and the Asgurdians. But you’re on Midguard now. People here may seem harsh, and at times they are, but you’ve proven yourself to be more than just a ‘monster’. Everyone has a dark side, a side of themselves that they don’t want others to see. I hope you know that I accept you as a whole; Jotunheim and all.” You said, never once raising your voice more than needed.

Loki had moved closer to the door, listening carefully to every word.

“You accepted me as I am, even though I still hate myself for what I’ve done, you make me feel like I worth some of the love you give me. I could never wish for anything more than for you to understand in the slightest the appreciation that I have for you. I love you Loki, more than words and actions can ever convey.”

“Say it again.” Loki said, opening the door and gazing down at you with a look of awe. His skin still had a blue hue and their darkened markings, and his eyes still had some red.

“I love you.” You smiled, letting out a sigh of either relief or happiness. Maybe it was both.

He then caught you by surprise, pulling you flush to his chest and connecting his lips to yours. You’d kissed before, but none of the other kisses conveyed this much raw emotion; love, admiration, sadness, hope, happiness. A huge mixture of colorful feelings.

“I love you too.” He mumbled, his mouth only just far enough away from yours to get the words out without them sounding muffled.

And it was perfect.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki x reader #loki oneshot #loki odinson

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minniemonu-reverie · 6 years ago

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SRK: Part Two- Time For Coffee?

~Super Rich Kids~

Master List in bio

Part Two – Time for Coffee?

Genre: Humor, fluff, smol angst

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Class couldn’t have ended any sooner. Being surrounded by seven severely attractive males was taking a toll on your mental state. You could feel daggers being shot at you every time Namjoon turned around to talk to one of the others. Jimin kept leaning around you to talk to Hoseok and made sure to smile at you every, single, time he brushed against you. At least they stopped trying to make you converse seeing that they were caught up amongst themselves. On top of that, your professor had given a semester long assignment. Woo hoo. You were paired up anonymously, the teacher knew who was paired of course, and you were going to spend the semester editing your partner’s assignments. At the end of the semester, you would find out who you were with, but you really didn’t care. You were moving very slowly to pack your things, seeing that you didn’t have another class for a couple hours, and you figured the slower you packed up the faster the guys would leave without trying to drag you along.

You already told Remi you were on your way to the coffee shop she worked at, but it was getting there without any of these random guys that was posing to be the problem. “Hey, Y/N! Are you doing anything? Do you have another class to get to? You should come hang out with us!” Suddenly, you felt an arm around your shoulders, and you felt your temperature rise, and why couldn’t you just get to Remi? WHY? “Sorry, I have plans.” You muttered, shifting out of the embrace of Jimin and continuing to put your things away. You grabbed your bag and looked up at him. He had a pout on his face and your heart sank. Precious bean. “Planssss? But what about meeee?” Jimin whined, giving you puppy dog eyes. This guy made you straight soft, but you rolled your eyes to try and fight off the feelings taking hold of you. “What about you? Who are you? We literally just met, and I don’t feel comfortable going somewhere with a bunch of guys I don’t know.” You watched Jimin’s face fall into despair and your heart ached. Oops. Maybe that was a little harsh. “I’m sorry. I just, I’m having a rough morning…” You stutter out, shifting uncomfortably.

You hear a “humph” behind you and automatically knew who it came from. Mr. Holier Than Thou himself. Namjoon had his messenger bag on and looked impatient. “Are we leaving, or are we going to stand here all day?” He huffed. You could’ve sworn he was about to start tapping his foot like he was your mom. “Jimin, stop harassing the poor girl and let her leave.” Yoongi spoke up, giving you a shy smile before grabbing Jimin and moving him away from your personal bubble. Instant relief flooded through you, even though you were annoyed with Namjoon. “Jeeze guys, I was just trying to be nice.” Jimin mumbled, looking awfully hurt. Why was he having this effect on you? He looked like a soft little lamb and you just wanted to bring his smile back. You felt like you were going to regret your next actions, but your day was already a train wreck so why not continue down the path of destruction? “Well,” You started, and felt all 7 pairs of eyes shoot to you. You looked at your feet. “I mean, I don’t have my next class for a couple of hours…” You looked up to see Jimin’s face light up, and Namjoon looked even more unimpressed. “I was going to visit my friend at work, she works at a coffee shop, but if you want to come with me, I guess I wouldn’t mind?” Jimin almost tackled you to the ground in delight. “AW YEAH! LET’S GOOOO! Tae, you’re coming right? Kookie? Jin? Guys?” Taehyung nodded enthusiastically, coming around to your other side and slinging his arm around you. “I would never pass up getting treated to coffee by such a beautiful lady.” Jin said, running a hand through his hair and giving you a devilish smirk. Jungkook smacked Jin on the back, causing him to trip. “NOT COOL!” Jin bellowed, adjusting himself and shooting Jungkook a glare. “What isn’t cool is whatever the hell you just tried to do.” Jungkook chided, giving Jin his signature bunny smile. “I’m in if that coffee shop has banana milk and an outlet for my phone. Playing games for the past two hours really drained it.” You burst out laughing, covering your mouth to try and stop yourself from being embarrassed once again. It didn’t work. A chorus of “aww” echoed around you as the guys gushed over you. “Don’t worry, there’s banana milk, and I’m sure we can find you an outlet for your phone.” You answered between giggles, and suddenly you felt a little more comfortable with this random group of guys. Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon weren’t coming along. They had “other important things” to deal with. Which sounded shady af, but no one seemed to answer your questioning glance. Hoseok and Yoongi gave you waves goodbye, but Namjoon just stormed away as if you had done something incredibly offensive to him.

“Okay, so what is his problem?” You huff, crossing your arms. The five of you were finally outside and headed over to the coffee shop. You didn’t have time to text Remi that you were bringing some new “friends”, so you hoped she wouldn’t freak out, but you knew she would. She wasn’t a subtle lady when it came to reactions. Hopefully she wouldn’t die from a heart attack. “Oh, don’t worry about Namjoonie.” Taehyung snickered, tossing his head back to look at you. “He’s just in a mood today. Things haven’t been going very smoothly lately and he just decided to take his anger out on you. Purely because you caused a scene right in the middle of his speech. He doesn’t hate you though, I promise.” You give him a skeptical look. “Sure didn’t seem that way. I felt him trying to light me on fire with his eyes.”

Jimin ran up beside Taehyung and linked arms with him, forcing him to fall back in line with you. “So, why were you late anyway Y/N?” “Ugh, I woke up late. I forgot to set my alarm.” “Common mistake, but hey, if it didn’t happen, we wouldn’t be going for coffee right now!” “I guess you’re right… So why are all of you here anyway? Are you new?” Jimin and Taehyung giggled to themselves, and Jin spoke up. “Yeah, we’re all transfer students. The seven of us grew up together, our families are really close. We were in private school for most of our lives and our parents thought it would be good for us to see the world, so here we are. Expanding our horizons.” “I don’t need to expand my horizons, I need to expand my closet!” Taehyung interjected. “Do you have any fancy little boutiques here? If they make a good enough impression on me, I’ll model their clothes in my next shoot.” You stopped in your tracks, a big question mark written on your face. “What do you mean? Are you like a model or something?” Taehyung beamed his boxy smile. “Oh, I’m not just a model, I am the model.” Jimin smacked his arm. “Excuse me, you’re not the only model Tae.” Your mouth fell open as you stared at the duo beaming at you. Of course, they were models, just look at them. Good God, what have I gotten myself into? “We’ll show you some of our photoshoots once we get to the coffee shop, you’re in for a surprise.” Jimin winked and took Taehyung by the arm and away from you so they could discuss what they were going to show you.

Jin and Jungkook replaced them at your side. “And what do you two do? Are you some sort of secret undercover spy? No wonder everyone was so into you guys in class before I made a fool of myself! Why didn’t you tell me you guys were like famous or something?” You shrieked, feeling extremely vulnerable that the only accomplishment you had was that one time you ate ten tacos, and the only person to witness that was Remi. “Oh, no. I’m not famous. I’m actually training to be a chef. My parents just wanted me to make sure I had a back up plan in case things didn’t work out. Which, I totally agree with, but it is really hard to keep up with everything sometimes.” Jin explained, stuffing his hands into his jean pockets. Jungkook didn’t look eager to share his story, and Jin nudged him. “Ah, I haven’t really, uh, figured out what I want to do yet. I’m kinda just here for the ride so far.” Jungkook looked down in embarrassment, shrugging his shoulders.

You reached your hand out to him, awkwardly giving him a light pat on the head. “No worries, I didn’t know what I wanted to do for a long time, and sometimes I wonder if what I’m doing is the right thing. We never really know what path we’re going to end up on, but all you can do is make the most of it.” Jungkook gave you a sincere smile, and you saw Taehyung pretend to wipe a tear from his eye. “That was beautiful Y/N.” You blushed profusely, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I was just being honest. I didn’t really mean to come off philosophical or anything.” “Just take the compliment baby girl.” Jimin said with a wink. You audibly choked, making the guys stare at you with concern. “Sorry,” You rasped, “I just did not expect that. Baby girl?” “What? You don’t like it?” He gave you his fake pouty face, making you cave instantly. “No, it’s fine, I just. I. Uh.” “SO,” Taehyung interrupted, saving you from your awkward rambling. “What are you doing with your life Y/N? Do you have a job? What are your future goals?” “Oh, uhm…” You couldn’t tell them about your part -time job. It was far too embarrassing. It was bad enough that they gushed this hard over you, if they found out you worked at a maid café? You were going to be royally screwed. Images flashed through your mind as you saw yourself in uniform and all seven of them at a table, demanding odd things from you. You cringed inwardly. “Yeah, I have a job. I’m a server at a small restaurant. Also, I’m obviously studying English. I plan on being a writer.” “Oh, a writer? That’s so cool! You should talk to-” Jin smacked Jungkook on the head. “Dude.” Jungkook laughed nervously. “Oh, right. Sorry.” Your eyebrow shot up, a distrustful look crossing your face. “I’ll just pretend that you aren’t being weird, since we have finally made it!” You stop in front of a cozy looking hole in the wall café, your arms outstretched.

The guys all got super excited and rushed around you to get inside. You shook your head and followed them in. You heard the familiar bell jingle as the door swings. You instantly relax, this is one of your safe places and even when Remi isn’t working, you two frequent here. You had been coming here since the beginning of your friendship and eventually Remi was hired on as a barista. The feel of the café is very intimate and cozy. Fairy lights hang around the walls and there are mismatched chairs and eclectic décor. The coffee shop also doubles as a book store. There are stairs that lead up to a second seating area, and there are bookshelves scattered around. The scent of coffee is strong, and your mouth starts to water. The guys have already found a table by the window and are waiting for you to join them. Suddenly, a pair of hands grab your shoulders and pull you behind a bookshelf.

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draginhikari · 6 years ago

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Final Fantasy XIV: Azure and Crimson Section 2: Kari Azuresol, Light Reborn Chapter 6: Rejection and Acceptance, The Path to Heavensward

Once Kari had fully recovered from her injures she began her journey once again. This time heading towards the snowy lands of Coerthas in the northern lands of Eorzea. This landscape, held by the Holy See of Ishgard, was transformed by Calamity from a mountainous forest region to a realm of endless ice and snow. It was in this land where Kari intended to once again meet with the Doman Shinobi, Yugiri Mistwalker. This time their meeting was less business and more of a personal matter for Kari. Kari had arranged this get together to accept Yugiri’s previous offer to learn about the Au Ra and her homeland. Meeting at the Observatorium, in the southeastern corner of the Coerthas Central Highlands, Kari and Yugiri enjoyed a little respite from their individual missions as Yugiri took the time to explain to Kari about the Au Ra people, the land they came from, and the differences between the two clans. Yugiri brought a map of the east to provide to Kari, which featured both regions of Othard and Hingashi, as well as some eastern tea for Kari to try. After a rather enjoyable and casual conversation between the two Auri. Kari decided it was time for her to take the next step forward on her mission.

Kari smiled as she finished her tea as they sat at a table near the stove keeping the room warm, “This stuff is pretty good. Thank you Yugiri. Someday, I would like to see it for myself, but for now it’s at least comforting to know where I come from.” Yugiri smiled and nodded to Kari, “Tis a pleasure Kari, I understand that this must all be perplexing for you. Tis a difficult thing to not know who you are and where you come from for so many years. Still, I find certain things in your story hard to believe. I had no idea that Ala Mhigian refugees had made their home on a southern island that is so close to home.”

Kari chuckled, “There isn’t much else to really say about them. It’s enough to know that the view that Shadros’ people held of me was not the reality. Spending a lot of years only knowing yourself as a…” Kari paused a moment before continuing, “freak. It was definitely hard but I feel better about myself these days and that’s all that matters.”

Yugiri sipped her tea before speaking, “If I may inquire Kari, that blue mark across your eyes? Have you always had it?” Kari ran her hand over part of the face marking for a moment, “Yes, for as long as I could remember. Why do you ask?” Yugiri thought for a second before she shook her head, “Tis just a curiosity think pray me none. What course of action will you take now?”

Kari went quiet for a few moments before she said, “I think it’s time I made my presence known to Alphinaud and Tataru. I had to be certain of my path before I met with them which is why I wanted to talk to you about all this before I went ahead and did so.” Yugiri put her hand to her chest looking down for a moment before looking back at Kari, “If it is your wish. I have business but if you can wait a time I could accompany you. Would be a simple task to vouch for your words.” Kari chuckled, “I appreciate that, but I’ve already taken up enough of your time so I will do my best to try to convince them on my own.” Yugiri nodded, “If that is your desire, I will return amidst the night and see how you have fare regardless as I worry of them as well. Till then take care, Kari.”

Kari would part ways with the Doman Ninja glancing northward, “Camp Dragonhead. Shadros, I’ve finally made it here. After all this time and after all this struggling, I’m ready to stand with them like you did.” Kari took a deep breath before she began up the path towards Camp Dragonhead. Fortunately Camp Dragonhead wasn’t all that far away from where she had been staying at the Observatorium. Kari let her eyes wander some as she arrived at the camp. So much of Coerthas had such a different feel from the rest of Eorzea. The realm seemed bleak and desolate not helped by the number of weapons aimed for the sky in preparation for more conflict with the Draconian hordes of Nidhogg. Kari only knew the basic history surrounding the Dragonsong War, a conflict going for over a millennium between the Holy See and the dragons, but she figured there would be more time to address that at a later date. Kari found herself standing before the Camp’s headquarters. Kari glanced inside the headquarters as she made her way inside, “Let’s see if my memory serves, Lord Haurchefant works somewhere in here. He was the one sheltering them so he probably know where to find them. I just hope Shadros’ letter is enough to convince him.” Kari would spy the silver haired Elezen working from his desk towards the back of the headquarters. Haurchefant looked up as Kari approached, though he did a bit of a double take when glancing at Kari’s attire. Haurchefant regained his composure quickly to greet her. “Welcome to Camp Dragonhead. Please, warm yourself by our hearth. By the fury, your appearance gave me a bit of a shock, I had been expecting return of a friend who wears a familiar garb not all that different from your own. Tell me, are a follower of the Warrior of Light? Tis a worthy role model to have in this current day and age.” Haurchefant said as he stood up gesturing his arms out in a welcoming expression before bring them back down. Kari chuckled finding something about the man interesting, she could only image how annoyed Shadros must have gotten at the man’s antics.

Kari would raise her hand in greeting “My name is Kari Azuresol and I suppose I am in a manner of speaking, I am a… student… of Shadros Hiku and am here on his behalf.” Haurchefant put his hand to his chin, “A student you claim? He didn’t seem like the type to keep students. I must admit curiosity. Why would he send you when he has no reason not to come himself?” Kari nods and reached into her bag pulling out a letter addressed to Haurchefant specifically, “A lot has happened and it’s a bit complicated. It might save you some time if I just give you this to read.” Haurchefant would take the letter and look at the outside, “Ah yes, tis definitely Shadros’… unique handwriting.” Kari had to hold back a snort as even Haurchefant seemed to struggle to find nice things to say about Shadros’ penmanship. Haurchefant began to read over the letter slowly. Kari saw his expression shift a few different times as he read through the letter as if trying to process what was being said. Haurchefant rubbed his eyes for a moment as if to collect himself and went silent much to the confusion of some of the other knights. After about ten minutes or so Haurchefant finally stood back up again with a more serious expression on his face, “I must ask you this Miss Azuresol. Do you plan on continuing to follow the path that your close friend did?” Kari wasn’t sure why Haurchefant was asking her this, but Kari responded with total honesty, “Yes, absolutely. It’s exactly what I want to do.” Haurchefant chuckled and extended his arms some, “Splendid! Tis what I needed to hear from you,” Kari was taken aback by Haurchefant forwardness, “Wait? That’s all you needed from me? You aren’t the least bit curious about anything else?” Haurchefant chuckled, “Why would I? The amount of passion and faith my friend had for you in his letter displayed I hath no reason to do otherwise. Though I am saddened to hear of the loss of such a noble soul and a dear friend, this is not a time for mourning loss. Would be disrespectful for me to put my feelings over his noble wishes and see you forward from here as he wished of me.”

Kari blinked some, “Then you’ll…” Haurchefant replied before she finished her sentence, “Yes, I will permit you to visit with the Scions that are currently here. I am still waiting to grant them access to Ishgard so this would be a good time to convince them of your case.” Kari bowed, “Thank you, Lord Haurchefant.” Haurchefant chuckled, “Think nothing of it. Shadros was a dear friend, I consider it my duty to support my friends and those they call friends. Especially one such as you, who is a sister to him? As such I must consider you the same.” Kari was a little surprised to hear him say that. Kari could only wonder how different that letter must have been from the others for the knight to reach that particular conclusion. Haurchefant would leave his desk and escort Kari the ‘Falling Snow’ as he called it where Alphinaud and Tataru were currently residing while they await word from Ishgard. Haurchefant and Kari would go inside. Tataru was the first to catch site of them, who was taken aback by Kari’s appearance. Soon, Alphinaud also turned once his thoughts were broken equally taken aback by the situation.

Alphinaud looked at Haurchefant, “Is something amidst Lord Haurchefant? Why is this woman dressed up like Shadros? Is this some unusual Ishgardian custom that I’ve not heard of?” Haurchefant gestured to Kari, “Nay Alphinaud. This is Kari Azuresol, someone who knows Shadros quite well, and she has something of the essence to speak with you about. I believe it best to hear it from the young lady herself.” Haurchefant would gesture to Kari before he step out of room leaving the three to their privacy. An awkward silence would pass between the three as if none of them knew what exactly to say. Kari finally took a deep breath deciding she had to come out clean with the two and explain what really happened. Her lie of being Shadros’ apprentice was not going to fool someone like Alphinaud anyway. Kari would start to tell her story beginning with how Shadros had been seeking the Hymn Venom order, the visions, his battle with the Hymn Venom order, and his very fate.

Tataru looked mortified by what she heard, “Shadro is gone too!? No, we can’t have lost another one. Not him too.” Alphinaud clutched his fists and glared at Kari, “You think this twisted jest is humorous!? You expect me to believe such rubbish? Shadros would not have kept these kind of secrets from his allies like this!” Alphinaud voice escalated and became angrier as he raised his tone, “After all we’ve be through you dare come here and speak such lies? We have been harmed enough by deception and I won’t be deceived by you here!” Kari looked stunned trying to find her words, “But I’m…. not lying… I’ve got Shadros’…” Alphinaud knocked a glass off the table causing it to shatter which stunned Tataru as such an outburst was unlike him, “Enough, I do not know wherever you came from or what kind of game you are playing at but you have no friends here. Be gone from our sight, Kari Azuresol, and never show yourself before us again!” Kari froze for a moment before closing her eyes some, this wasn’t how she expected this to go. Even if she provided Shadros’ letter now, it wasn’t likely Alphinaud would believe it. Kari turned around and left the two alone.

Kari returned back to cafeteria at the headquarters sitting down at one of the tables putting her head down as grumbled to herself, “This is not how this was supposed to go at all.”

Haurchefant sat across from her after a short time, “I take it that things did not go accordingly with Master Alphinaud?” Kari groaned, “No, it was an utter disaster. He wouldn’t listen to anything I said.” Haurchefant put his arms on the table looking at Kari, “Do not distress my lady, you must forgive Master Alphinaud and be relentless in your pursue. He has been through many difficulties since the fall of the Crystal Braves and learning of Shadros’ fate liken to worsen such things. I am certain you will convince him in due time once he given himself some time to calm.” Before Kari could answer him as a knight of the camp approached Haurchefant and he was force to raise a hand to Kari to give him a moment, “Speak, you seem to be in distress.”

The knight said, “My Lord, the tower just spotted an attack by dragons on a supply caravan heading here from the city! It’s utter chaos!” Haurchefant stood up, “Gather whatever units that are not currently off duty, we shall make haste!” Haurchefant turned to Kari, “Forgive me Kari, I must see to this situation but perhaps may we talk more once this dire situation has passed. Try to keep your spirits up, Kari.” Haurchefant would go at this point. Kari simply remained silent and put her head back down. She wondered for a moment if she should have offered to help but she really wasn’t in the mood at the moment. Kari simply dozed off for a short time. Kari would snap awake when she hear a woman scream outside of the Headquarters. Kari quickly ran outside as she heard people screaming something about dragons. Once outside, Kari caught sight of a Wyvern that was attacking the base with a small group of minor dragons. Kari glanced around, “The caravan attack must have been a diversion with the bulk of Haurchefant’s forces out the rest decided to strike at the base!” The remaining guards were doing the best they could and other adventurers that were in the area also provided back-up to the camp. Kari turned as the Wyvern dove down towards a few children had fallen in the snow while attempting to flee. Kari quickly ran forward drawing the Aegis Shield to block the razor sharp talons of the Wyvern. The children looked up, fearful and stunned at Kari. Kari shouted at them, “Don’t just sit there like a lump get to safety!” The children would run away as the Wyvern shrieked at Kari and gritted her teeth as the wyvern swooped down at her. Kari managed to get a slash on the wyvern wing as she moved out of the way. Though not with enough damage to knock it out of the air. The swoop was nothing more than a distraction by the Wyvern as several lower dragons, known as Dragonflies, descended upon Kari forcing her to content with them first. The biting and scratching of the lower dragons were little direct threat to Kari’s heavy armor but her focus on them meant she couldn’t watch the Wyvern very closely as it slammed into Kari throwing her into the wall. Kari let out a gasp as she made contact with the wall.

Alphinaud’s Amber Carbuncle took down another dragonfly that were attacking the anti-dragon weaponry on the upper levels of the base, “Another one down, there appears to be no end to this. Hm?” Alphinaud turned to see the Wyvern approaching Kari on the lower wall, “What in the name of the gods is she doing? Watch out!” Kari snapped back to focus as she thrust the shield to smack the Wyvern in the face when it got too close to her with its jaws, “I’m far from done arsehole!” The Wyvern stumbled back taking to the air, lurching its head back, and released a burst of fire in Kari general direction. Kari gritted her teeth in frustration, her anger reaching a peak as she shouted, “I’m not done! Not by a long shot!” A spark shot through the Excalibur and Aegis as she went to defend with her shield. Alphinaud thought Kari had snapped and completely lost her mind. However, the flames seem to spread around her rather than going through her as Alphinaud expected as another light formed within the fiery spread. When the wyvern’s attack dispersed, Kari stood back up slowly. The Excalibur and Aegis were now glowing with a new energy, for the first time since Kari had taken hold of Shadros’ weapon she had finally tapped into the true power of the Zodiac Braves and unleashed their full power that Shadros had originally obtained. Alphinaud was taken aback by what he just saw, “That sword and light pattern, Shadros’ sword had the same effect. Then that weapon isn’t a replica at all! It’s a real Zodiac Brave!?” Kari walk slowly towards the wyvern with a serious glare on her face. She was entirely focused, she was not hesitating, and she was entirely in control of the power flowing through her. The wyvern shrieked and attempted to charge Kari again but she moved to the side slashed through a chuck of the wyvern’s wing this time when it passed by her. Causing the Wyvern to clumsily stumble out of sky and crash into the wall a complete reversal of the situation from a few moments ago. The Wyvern roared angrily and began release balls of fire in Kari direction. Kari began to run towards the Wyvern strafing from side to side dodging the fireballs as she moved forward as if she were able to see the path of the attacks a second before they were coming towards her. Alphinaud continued to watch the scene play out, not believing what he was seeing, “These movements they seem similar to the manifestation of the Echo that Shadros used. Is it possible? Was Kari speaking truth?” Kari reached the wyvern shouting some as the Wyvern lunged towards Kari. Kari dodged to the side growling, “Spirits Within!” The light around the Excalibur intensified as Kari thrusted the blade through the side of the Wyvern’s head. For a moment, Alphinaud swore he saw Shadros. It wasn’t the case it was just her stance, her attack method, and her power seemed extremely similar to Shadros’ own, too much to be a coincidence. The wyvern’s eyes widen for a split second before the wyvern flopped down to the ground. Kari drew her sword from the Wyvern’s head panting heavily as she recover from the sudden adrenaline rush. Kari glanced down at her sword, “I did it, the Zodiac Brave’s power has finally awoken for me. Shadros, I did it…” Kari groaned as she slid to the ground, “I hope it’s not always going to be this draining to do.” With the Wyvern down the lesser dragons would begin to scatter or were easily taken down by the knights still at the base.

Haurchefant returned to the base with his men to wrap the situation up. Haurchefant personally defending Kari from a few stranglers going after her. Afterward, Haurchefant turned his gaze to Kari and the Wyvern, “Ah, my friend it seems I left you to clean up an unintended mess, my apologies.”

Kari groaned some, “Can’t talk… recovering…” Haurchefant chuckled some, “Of course my friend, as I suspected you have just much spirit as Shadros did and the ferocity to boot to take a Wyvern that large single handedly. Thank you, my friend, you likely saved a few lives by choosing to get involved like you did.”

“I must admit my impression as well,” Kari turned to see Alphinaud approaching the two, “I assumed you merely a charlatan but based on your actions just now it appears my initial judgments may have been on the… hastily side.” Kari just looked at Alphinaud unable to speak much yet. Alphinaud looked to her, “When you are ready. Come back to room, I will here you out again. I want to understand fully what has happened with an open mind. You’ve earn that much today.” Alphinaud would return to the chambers at this point. Kari just seemed kind of surprised as she stood back up putting her sword and shield back in their place.

Haurchefant chuckled some, “Well, my friend, it seems you now have a second chance to make your case. Alphinaud seemed to be in a better mood now so I wouldn’t waste your opportunity here.” Kari nodded, “Right.”

Kari would return to the chamber with Alphinaud and Tataru. She would retell her story and fill in some of the gaps she left out in the story earlier. Once Kari had finished her story she reached into her bag and revealed the final letter from Shadros and provided it to Alphinaud who would sit down and read through the letter carefully.

Alphinaud and Tataru,

If you are reading this letter it means that my personal mission to end the Hymn Venom Order has failed and I have fallen.

I owe you all an apology. It was never my intention to hide so many secrets from the Scions but I didn’t want anyone else getting hurt in my private matters. In the end I was not strong enough it seems to fulfill the role I was given. The truth is the power I held was not originally mine to wield in the first place but rather was a combination of circumstance and my close friendship of the young woman who has likely handed you this letter. The manifestation of the Echo I wielded was Kari’s soul united for a time as a result of a horrible tragedy. Kari gave me an extension on my life and with her help I would become the Warrior of Light that you would know me as, together we became unstoppable. However, it was simply not meant to be. Whatever boundaries we broke, the power of the echo needed to be properly restored.

Please, do not blame Kari for what has happened to me. She tried to stop me from pursing her but I would not listen. I could not ignore the guilt I had for allowing all this to transpire and followed what my heart was telling me to do. Whether successful or not I had to try to resolve this issue with my own hands. This was greatly selfish of me and I do it knowing so. However, I did not do so recklessly and believe Kari will want to continue where I left off. Kari is young and inexperienced, this much is true. However, Kari possess a potential that could easily surpass my own but only if she has the guidance to lead her down the right path. I have left Kari my memories, my experiences, and my Zodiac Brave. She has gone far and wide to seeking those that could help her learn and knowing her she has now come before you far different person then how I left her. Yet still, she has much left to learn.

My final request of you, my friends. Please accept Kari among you, let her grow, change, and become the person she always wanted to be. She will be the Warrior of Light you all have been truly waiting for. I truly believe that.

P.S. – Alphinaud please give my regards to your sister and… I am sorry that I failed to keep my promise to her too.

Sincerely,

Shadros Hiku Alphinaud sat quietly for several minutes re-reading the letter from Shadros a few times. Before he finally stood up again looking at Kari, “Tell me Miss Azuresol, what is it that you want to do?” Kari looked at Alphinaud answering him like she had earlier in the day to Haurchefant, “I wish to continue where my friend left off. I want to help his friends, clear his name, and continue protect my new home here in any way I can. I want the power to be able to do that.” Alphinaud tilted his head moving his hands to his chin in thought, “There is a certain sincerity in the words you speak but I am still uncertain on whether to believe them or not.” Kari frowned but the door would open again and a voice would speak out as it did. “Perhaps my words, Master Alphinaud, would settle your doubts,” Yugiri stepped in along with, surprisingly Aya.

Alphinaud turned to Yugiri slightly stunned, “You know of this Lady Yugiri?” Yugiri nods, “I do. This woman is Aya, she is a shinobi I recommended to Shadros when he was seeking help with his personal matters with the Hymn Venom Order. Shadros had also spoken to me on the matter on a number of occasions.” Alphinaud said, “And you decided not to inform us on such matters?” Yugiri said, “It seemed unnecessary as though I did not understand what he meant and he requested me to stay silent on the matter. After all Shadros had done, I feel he deserved at least that level of respect. Though I not know to the extent of his plans. He inquired of my race and his connection to a girl he had seen in his vision. He descripted to me a young woman of Kari’s appearance. He could list nearly every feature to me as if she were standing before me. Shadros requested that if something went wrong that I could provide him a trinket to help me identify her if she escaped the order. That is exactly what transpired and why I did not hesitate for a moment to help Kari find her way. Aya has agreed to step forward and speak on the validity of the story and confirm the nature of Kari’s character”. Kari was a little surprised by that, that Aya would stick her neck out for her so easily. Aya bowed slightly, “Master Alphinaud, I have been with Kari since she first appeared several weeks back and I was the one who worked with Shadros on his personal mission. I found the information on the Hymn Venom Order, accompanied Shadros to investigate the information and was the last to see him before his disappearance where he gave me a key to his belongings to give to a girl matching Kari’s description when she appeared before me. Whether you fully believe my story or not, Kari has already proven her worth on more than one occasion. Not only has she progressed in power faster than anyone I’ve seen. She unselfishly engaged in a battle she did not have to and saved a group of young women from abuse, manipulation, and assault. She even defeated a notorious criminal single handedly. She’s still a little bit green around the gills that’s for sure, but she bravely stood against a criminal far more experienced and powerful then she was and still managed to come out on top. I would trust Kari with my life at this point and there are about a dozen young women that could say the same.” Aya handed Alphinaud small stack of papers. Kari couldn’t tell what they were but with the different handwriting they appeared to be testimonials from different people. The entire thing just surprised Kari even more. Did Aya really do all this for her? Alphinaud listened and gestured to two shinobi, “I will take your council into consideration.” Aya would bow again and prepared to leave giving Kari a wink and her usual smirk dropping her polite act for a moment before she left. Alphinaud was quiet for a few more minutes. Tataru looked at Kari then at Alphinaud, “Alphinaud, I think I’m more then convinced, I think we should give her a chance.” Alphinaud stated, “Given the circumstances of our current predicament to turn down willing help would be a perplexing choice for sure.” Alphinaud looked back at Kari, “Miss Azuresol, you do understand that we walk a difficult path and that there is no guarantee of success in any sense of the word. Is that a risk you are willing to take?” Kari chuckled and gestured towards Alphinaud, “If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be putting myself through all this right now. I need to live for both Shadros and myself now. I don’t plan on giving up.” Alphinaud finally let a small smile show, “Very well, Miss Azuresol, then I will allow you to accompany us to Ishgard and will expect you to demonstrate your words on the trials ahead. Understand, I am still hesitant to entirely trust you. If your words are true however, I hope to be free of such hesitation soon enough.” Kari crossed her arms and nods, “That’s all I can ask and I prefer that anyway. Though I do have one request.” Alphinaud seemed a bit surprised, “And that would be?” Kari squinted her nose in annoyance and stated, “No more of this Miss Azuresol stuff all right? My name is Kari okay? The formalities give me a headache.”

Alphinaud was taken aback as if he wasn’t expecting her to be so forward, “Yes, of course. My apologies. Very well, Kari.”

Tataru approached Kari and held out a linkpearl for her, “Welcome aboard, Kari.” Kari would take the linkpearl with a slight smile. Kari had actually done it, after so much work she was finally on the way to starting her mission.

Alphinaud stated, “We still awaiting official word from Lord Haurchefant on when we can enter Ishgard. Once that time arrives we will contact you on the linkpearl. Once we contact, you please make haste as we will not be able to wait upon you for long.” Kari chuckled, “Very well, don’t worry you won’t be waiting up for me.” Tataru would clap some and Yugiri would nod to Kari before she too left the scene. Haurchefant provided Kari a bed in the barracks to stay for the night. The following morning Kari rose and grumbled as she wrapped her arms around herself, “Sheesh, another cold morning.” She reached for the Paladin Soul Crystal to get her armor on as quickly as she could before she stood up and walked outside noticing that the weather was actually calm this morning. Kari decided to take a walk and she made her way to the west from Camp Dragonhead. Kari would stop as she turned towards the Gate of Judgement that lead towards the City-State of Ishgard stopping for a moment looking towards the magnificent and ancient city in the distance. There was something impressive about the city, yet she had a feeling of dread when she looked upon it for reasons she could not directly explain. A burst of aetheric energy released as Midgardsormr suddenly appeared alongside her again. Kari looked towards the ancient Wyrm for a moment before turning back to the city. She didn’t even have to ask him why he was here. Midgardsormr gave a monotonous chuckle as he spoke, “Heh Heh Heh. Thou thinkest sanctuary lieth beyond? Delusion. Despair. Death. Thou shalt find naught else here.” Kari expression grimaced some as she heard Midgardsormr’s words. She would normally have questioned the ramblings of the Wyrmking but for whatever reason she believed his words on that matter. Midgardsormr would soon disappear and Kari turned back to make her way to Camp Dragonhead. Kari stopped a short distance from the camp looking towards some cliffs near the camp feeling like she was being watched for a moment but saw nothing. Kari shrugged some wondering if she was just hearing things before she continued towards the camp. Upon leaving a figure stepped forth, the Azure Dragoon of Ishgard, Estinien Wyrmblood. Estinien glanced down at the Eye of Nidhogg he was carrying that seemed to have lead him to this place.

“The eye reacts to a third? No, that is impossible. This feeling is familiar, tis like the day Shadros Hiku first appeared before me. That woman was dressed like him as well.” Estinien looked down at the eye again, “What is the connection? No matter. I will find out one way or another.” Estinien leapt off up to a higher cliff as another snow storm masked his exit.

Kari shielded her eyes as she glanced upward to the stormy skies when she arrived back at Camp Dragonhead, “This is only the beginning of my struggle… isn’t it Shadros?” The Scion linkpearl would go off and Kari would take it out and look at it, “It’s time…” Kari would begin to make her way back to the room where Alphinaud and Tataru awaited her arrival. Kari’s journey as the new Warrior of Light had just begun.

To preserve the dawn’s light the Heroes journeyed north. Their hearts filled with hope and eyes fixed Heavensward!

End of Section 2: Kari Azuresol, Light Reborn

Section 2 - Chapter 5: Duty Commenced! Life or Death Dance upon the Silver Waves

Final Fantasy XIV: Azure and Crimson Complete

Section 3 - Chapter 1: Azure Dragoon and Iceheart (Coming Soon)

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