#OC: Leta Middenlocke

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

girl (GN) help I'm in love with Leta again

(Piccrew)

[sith-as-heck]

⌨️ for a fic of your choice

Since I haven't written for Star Wars in ages, have a sentence from Pawns of war which is the latest in my Leta Middenlocke Series which is warhammer so reader discretion advised, its a dark universe (also smut, so much smut for my girl lmao)

(also time to promote my warhammer sideblog @a-wayfairing-stranger)

(its also got Sharpe and LOTR and GOT okay here's the sentence now.)

She watched Gaunt, still unmoving, as if made of stone, she wondered what he was dreaming about in his drug induced state.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗶 Leta

Does your oc's name/design mean anything?

Uhhh....her name? No, I just liked it.

Her design? Yes definitely, her shaved head represents her loss of identity after she's arrested and forced to become a soldier, the Aquila on her throat represents that the imperium will kill her, just not in a clean way like a noose, but in a way of being another faceless body on some forgotten planet.

Her clothes never fit her, to show that she's out of place among the Tanith.

As she gets more comfortable with herself, her situation and her relationships her hair grows out a little bit more, only for her to realise she actually prefers it shaved, something something growing.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Decided to rewrite Leta's story (Again) because hey ho don't we love never feeling like our work is good enough? anyway, here's a snippet.

She knew these tunnels were a death trap, she’d said as much to Ozark, the leader of their little group of criminals as he’d led them in, he’d told her to shut her whore mouth or he’d shut it for good.

He’d died first, his meaty fists too clumsy to get his mask on in time, his eyes had bled, his mouth frothed, he’d died like a rabid dog, seizing and pissing himself on the tunnel floor. 

They’d all died in the end, all three of the men she was with, either to the gas or these..people? They were humans, but crazed, Den had turned mad when the gas hit him, he’d stabbed Kart to death as he bled from his eyes and ears, cackling, Bent put him down, before another madman ran him through with a sharpened piece of metal, only for him to meet his end by Leta herself pulling the trigger.

Yet she was alive, somehow, how long had passed? She had slept, she thinks..slumped against the wall, the smell of rot and decay clinging to her nostrils and invading her dreams.

She’d tried to find her way out but it was so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face and try as she might her eyes simply refused to adapt to the darkness.  

Her throat was dry and her stomach ached, when was she last time she drank or ate? Was she doomed to roam these tunnels until her body collapsed from exhaustion? 

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Going insane thinking about tender Gaunt x Leta x Rawne moments, like Gaunt and Rawne both talking in hushed tones while Leta sleeps between them, Leta kissing both of them on the cheeks before a battle..I could go on.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

🪡 + leta!

The Boring answer is that she just wears her guardsmen uniform, But I like to think when not "On duty" she wears things like this

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Taking the Blorbos from their fandoms:

Inspired by a conversation between @valdrinors @cj-offical-sexyman and myself on the discord, Take your current OC’s and describe their story without mentioning the fandom or any characters from said fandom. (Also tagging @sterling-writes)

Leta Middenlocke- A young woman makes a mistake and pays for it, she’s given an option: the rest of her life in prison or be sent to the front lines of the bloodiest conflict in recent memory, she chooses the latter. Now she’s a girl in a man's world and discovers that the enemy isn't the only threat to her life.

Boudica- Immortality isn’t all it's cracked up to be, Boudica has seen the world change into a place she barely reganises, but adventure calls and she answers, maybe there is still a place for her in this new world.

Magdalena Van Der Flint- Politics is a game that Magdalena has been taught the rules of since birth, so she plays them well, she marries to advance her status but it’s loveless, when her so-called husband’s cruelty goes to extreme lengths, she is forced to take drastic action.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

2 and 10 for Leta, please?

What is your OC's drink of choice? Do they drink at all?

Leta will drink anything that gets her drunk, she likes Bragg's Sacra (I think its vodka? Idk warhammer loves to change things), because its strong and usually the only thing around but she really enjoys Amsec (Wine? or Brandy? Again warhammer loves to confuse) and considers it one of the perks of dating Gaunt is his liquor cabinet

How good are they at cooking? What are their specialities?

She can cook fish pretty well, one of the advantages of having a fisherman for a Uncle, and can make a "Stew" with her rations but really she isn't much of a cook at all.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Working on Leta again, just got the brain worms back I guess

@teadarka​ I hope you don’t mind the tag but you said you missed Leta and Gaunt so good news!

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Thinking about how Leta doesn't actually know how it feels to be loved in a romantic sense and thus she is always trying to prove her usefulness to Gaunt and Rawne and that's why she's always running head first into danger.

Also thinking about how even know, when Gaunt or Rawne express anger or sadness at her, she expects to be hurt.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Barbie posters:  OC Style.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

First impressions

Leta and Rawne's first meeting, From his P.O.V

When Elim Rawne heard that Gaunt had recruited a new ghost, he could hardly care. What was another Trooper, let alone one he had nothing in common with? As long as they stayed out of his way, they’d be fine.

But when he heard that the newest Ghost was a woman, he rolled his eyes, women were housekeepers and cooks, not soldiers, and when he heard that it was the girl that had been found in a gas filled tunnel surrounded by dead cultists, he thought that Gaunt had well and truly lost the plot, surely the girl was insane, she’d have to be after that ordeal, better to save everyone some time and energy and just shoot her then and there. 

It was in the shower block of all places that he first actually saw her, she had messy dark hair, and sunken eyes, she had a obnoxious Aquila tattoo on the column of her throat, her uniform was a size too big on her, but even under that her curves were visible, Rawne’s eyes scanned her body, she wasn’t bad looking, any port in a storm.

She was taking off her boots when he approached, he leaned against the locker.

“So you’re the stray Gaunt pulled out of the pit then?”

She turned her dark eyes to look at him, she looked like death warmed up, which he supposed, she was

“No, I just wandered in here and I’m looking for a good time.” 

Sarcasm and venom dropped from her every word, her voice was hoarse.

“Then you’re in the wrong place.” He smirked, his eyes slowly looking her over, she was tiny, how could she even pick up a lasgun let alone fire one? “A girl like you should be careful.”

“I can look after myself.”

“Obviously.”

To prove his point she reached down to her ankle and removed a dagger sheath, inside was a small knife he noticed, why did she have a knife if the rumors about her having a few screws loose were true, why on Terra did she have a weapon?

“Did you come to say anything important or did you just want to mark your territory and scare everyone else away?” 

How dare she dismiss him so easily? She should be thankful he’s paying attention to her at all.

“Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart.” He emphasized his words with a glare “You're from the 80th, I wouldn’t want to catch anything.”

She dropped her knife next to her boots and glared up at him, there was a coldness in the brown on her eyes, But then again, she was a criminal, who knew what crime she had committed?

“From the looks of you..you may already have a few things.” 

She turned back to the locker “Now, don’t you have better things to do?” 

Stuck up bitch, who was she to speak to him like that? He was a Major for Feth’s sake and she was just some hive scum whore, he scowled and walked away, One woman in thousand’s of men and it had to be her.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

A story to be told

In truth, I never received much widespread fame from my days as a journalist, my stories were mostly fluff pieces read over breakfast or while being driven somewhere, something where the stakes were low, a chance to have some good news, the one piece that got me somewhat known was the article I wrote on the Tanith 1st, or as they had became known ‘Gaunt’s Ghosts.’

I was sent to a planet, I forget its name now, it was so long ago, to write a morale boosting piece on the hard working men of the Imperial Guard, What I was met with however was someone else entirely.

The hanger in which I was dropped off was poorly air conditioned, the air was stale and one half of the huge metal building was sectioned off into a makeshift hospital, I was directed there to meet with a Middenlocke, who would then escort me to the main base of the Tanith 1st, where I was to interview their commander, A Colonel-Commissar Ibram Gaunt, his name I knew for other reasons, he was well known in certain circles. 

Middenlocke was not what or who I expected, I imagined a tall hulking brute, from the description of the Tanith they were practically wild men, with long unkempt hair and blue ink on their skin, Middenlocke didn’t fit this description.

She was a small woman, shorter than I, with a short ponytail that had shaved sides, she wore the same black fatigues as the men, they seemed slightly too big for her, she had a huge tattoo of the Imperial Aquila on her throat, flanked by a flower on each side, She looked me over with dark, tired eyes. 

“You the writer?” She asked, walking towards me

“Yes Ma’am..” 

Something about her made me address her with respect, she was quite frankfully, a little terrifying. 

“Augustus Hark.”

I extended a hand and she took it, her hands were freshly clean, the smell of disinfectant came off her in waves.

“Leta Middenlocke.” 

Up Close she had a pinkish hue to her face, I would learn later that she had what was known as a ‘Flamer Tan’ all though how she got it still remains a mystery.

“Are you a nurse?” I asked, a stupid question in hindsight, it was clear she wasn’t “A doctor?”

She laughed, oddly feminine for someone of her appearance 

“No..” 

She found my ignorance funny

“Visiting the Doc, making sure he’s alright.” 

She started walking and clearly expected me to follow her

“You wanna talk to Gaunt right?”

“Yes, all though I am here to do a piece on any and all heroes on the guard.”

She laughed again “Heroes? You’re in the wrong place Mr. Hark.” 

At the end of the hanger was a security gate and lockers, I awkwardly stood around as Leta opened one of the metal doors and pulled out her weapons: A worrying amount of knives and a laspistol. 

Then she pulled out a cloak, the trademark of the Tanith Ghosts, but rather than wearing it she simply flung it over her arm. 

At the gate a soldier, not one of the Tanith but the other regiment posted here, asked for my I.D and when he asked for Leta’s she rolled her eyes.

“Masc it's me, I’ve been in and out here a dozen times this week.” 

“And I tell you every time that security is security.” 

Once outside the dry air and humidity hit me like a wall, Leta seemed unfazed and lit a cigarette, she offered me one, which I declined. 

A truck was already running and judging by the fact that Leta climbed into the drivers cap, I assumed it was for us.

“What is it you do, Miss Middenlocke?”

“Just Middenlocke, Or Leta.”

“What is it you do, Leta?”

She chuckled and put the truck into reverse, hardly paying attention, only one hand on the wheel while the other held her cigarette.

“Right now? I do supply runs from here and the main camp, and sometimes help out in the hospital.” 

The truck lurched forward 

“And of course escort lovely civilians such as yourself.” 

The sarcasm was not lost on me.

The road was bumpy, and I’m sure even now all these years later my back is still suffering for it.

“What else do you do?”

“I’m a trooper, what do you think I do?”

“I wasn’t aware the Tanith had any women in their ranks.”

“They don’t.” 

She flicked her cigarette butt out of the window. “They have a woman: me.”

She was proud of this, But I was lost as to why.

“Do they treat you alright?”

“What?”

“Do they…”

Now I once again see the ignorance of my words, but you have to understand that I had a daughter around Leta’s age and the very idea of her being the only woman in a sea of men made my blood run cold.

“No, I understood the question Mr. Hark.” 

Even from the side I could see the glare she was giving me

“They treat me like they treat everybody else, I’m a Ghost above all else.” 

We drove on in silence, awkward silence that I had to fill, I was nervous, As it accrued to me that this planet was still a war zone.

“Are you from Tanith?”

“Is your piece on me or Gaunt?” 

“If you’d like to talk about the Colonel-Commissar rather than yourself..”

“Nothing I would say about Gaunt is printable I’m afraid.” 

She smiled to herself for a second

“Do you not get along with him?”

“We get along just fine, He’s in charge, I follow…not much else to say.”

I took the hint and simply watched the landscape, or what was left of it, flow past us. Only speaking once we reached the checkpoint and I was once again asked for my I.D.

The camp was a collection of tents around a bombed out but still structurally strong house, Leta parked the truck and beeped the horn.

As if waiting for her, a group of men exited one of the bigger tents, one of them, a slender man with one of the ghastly blue tattoos on his face, walked up to the cab and rested his arms on the open driver's side window.

“What took you so long, Wolf?” He asked casually 

“You know how Dordon can be..”

The man’s cold eyes focused on me “Who’s this?”

“Civ reporter.” She replied, turning off the engine “Here to interview Gaunt.” 

“Augustus Hark..” 

“You won’t get a polite introduction from this one Mr. Hark..” Leta smiled at the man, “He’s Rawne.”

“Major Rawne.” Rawne corrected 

“A Major pain in the arse..” 

There were sounds of boxes being removed from the back of the truck, the suddenly loud noise almost made me jump.

“Oi I’ll have you on report for that.”

Leta just laughed and smacked his folded arms “Hadn’t you better help with those boxes, Major? Seeing as it's your job and all…”

“Better had before you go telling Gaunt on me..” He stood up “Oh please Mister Gaunt sir, Major Rawne is being mean to me again.”

Leta put her arm through the window and hit his chest, which in all honesty surprised me, I had never seen a Trooper go to hit an officer without it ending in a premature execution. 

“Feth off..”

Rawne just grinned and walked around to the back of the truck.

“Mr. Hark…please keep Major Rawne’s childishness out of your article..” 

I remained silent, and just nodded, she exited the cab and I followed, as we walked towards the old building, many troopers waved to Leta, and quite a few mentioned a card game.

“Your Commissar allows gambling?”

“Gambling? Never.” She rose her eyebrows “It's only gambling if you bet money, Mr. Hark.”

I was impressed by how confidently Leta walked around, surrounded by men twice her size, and in a warzone nonetheless, I knew women who would faint at the sight of a small rodent.

“Gaunt, Sir!” She stood by the door of the ruined house, well I say door, it was a thick plastic curtain pulled over the doorway. 

Ibram Gaunt was a tall man, imposing in his cap and coat. I wanted to shrink away from his piercing gaze, Leta barely blinked.

“Agustus Hark Sir, here to write an article about the heroes of the Imperium.” 

“Then why on Terra is he trailing along after you Middenlocke?”

“Throne knows sir, I dunno why he wants to speak to you either..” She glanced at me “I fear you will be very disappointed.” 

Gaunt chuckled “Are those supplies here?”

“Rawne and the boys are unloading now sir.”

“And the doc?”

“Tired, but promised me he would at least get three hours of sleep tonight.”

“That's more than he gave me..” He looked to me, then back to Leta “Dismissed, I suppose you have other duties to attend too.”

“I am a free woman for the rest of the day sir..”

“Stay out of trouble, If I read another report about you-”

“Milo has promised to play for me, I’ll be under his watchful gaze, sir.”

“Good.”

Leta saluted Gaunt and then nodded at me

“Enjoy the war hero Mr. Hark…but be warned, he does prattle on.”

“Dismissed, Middenlocke..” Gaunt repeated 

“I’m going sir.”

Once I was certain that Leta was out of earshot I spoke to Gaunt, who lead me into the interior of the house.

“She is….quite the character.”

Gaunt nodded and smiled “She is, she keeps the boys happy..”

He seemed to realize the implications of what he’d said and continued 

“A lot of them had daughters or wives on Tanith, she brings a sort of…lightness to everything.”

He poured to cups of caf and sat down

“She also scares the hells out of them so there’s that.”

“I can see why.”

I did a interview with Gaunt, the usual questions and he gave the usual answers, all practiced and rehearsed a dozen times for a Commisar like him, my superiors were content with the message: Glory for the Emperor and the Imperium, but it seemed to be Leta that the common folk latched on to even though she made a very brief appearance in the actual article. 

I had heard that recruitment numbers went up, so I had that to be somewhat proud of at least.

That was over forty years ago now and I often wonder what became of Trooper Leta Middenlocke. I suppose it doesn’t matter now, I’ll never know and frankly it isn’t my information to know.

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Hey so I write things, sometimes, when I’m not just rambling about oc’s.

My 40k fic Angel of Small death follows sort of the Gaunt’s Ghost books and tells the tale of Leta Middenlocke who was once a low level gang member, who found herself on trail for murder and was sentenced to serve the Imperium, through more bad luck she finds herself the sole survivor of a massacre and is found by the Tanith First.

It mostly focuses on her relationship with Ibram Gaunt but does have moments of combat, Because I’m honestly just a sucker for romance (And Gaunt deserves a smooch)

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Random fact about my oc’s but three of them are inspired by IRL people (sometimes very loosely but inspired none the less)

Medusa: My Aeldari sniper from my current 40k D&D is inspired by the Soviet Sniper Lyudmila Pavlichenko

Boadica is well based on Boadica

Leta is based on the Sabaton song Lady of the Dark which was written about a Serbian woman named Milunka Savić

Definitely the inspiration is loose in placess but I like to take inspiration from badass women of history when making my oc’s <3

[a-wayfairing-stranger]

Surprises.

Gonna be real this was originally meant to be smut but then it sort of took on a life its own and became just tooth rotting fluff so enjoy!

Taglist (Ask if you’d like to be added) @auxiliarydetective

Leta Middenlocke was many things, a liar, a cheat, a murderer and a soldier, but she never considered herself a fool, until this very moment.

They were on a moon, a small village named Kinsgard to be exact, and she had spent her wages on a dress, an actual dress and for what? To stand awkwardly in the room Ibram had been granted by the mayor of said town as a thank you for saving it from total annihilation? She examined herself in the mirror, the dress was pretty, a lovely shade of maroon that had a sweetheart neckline and reached her knees, once upon a time it would have suited her a lot more than it did now, a shaved head, bruised legs and guard issue combat boots were not this summers sought after accessories. 

Ibram would laugh at her no doubt, speaking of which where was the grumpy bastard? It was almost midnight and meetings never ran this late. 

She heard the beep of a keypad, speak of the devil and he shall always appear, and so he did, walking through the door backlit by the hallway lights, she’d know his silhouette anywhere, the cap, the coat, she’d committed it to memory.

“There you are.”

“Sorry I’m late darling..I ran into Corbec outside the pub on the way back, he and the boys were having a celebratory drink..”

 He turned and hung up his cap, then removed his coat

“And one drink became two and then two became three..” He chuckled “You know how Colm can be.”

“Aye I do.” She replied with a smile “When someone else is paying.” 

“On the house, us being heroes and all..” He turned to face her, a smile on his flushed face. “Whats this?”

“A surprise..” She twirled in the dress, he’d never seen her in anything besides her uniform before, she’d even spent ages shaving her legs with a straight razor, somehow she didn’t cut herself, a miracle. “Do you like it?” 

“Wh-Where’d you get it?”

“Bought it, with my wages..Had some saved up, since..well I don’t exactly need to buy much..” 

He was staring at her, she felt self conscious, she was right, she looked stupid, her days of dress wearing were far behind her.

“Silly really…I mean…when am I gonna wear it?” She shrugged, feeling like a burst balloon “Just..I guess…Forget it.” 

“Hey..” he walked across the room to her and put a hand under her chin “You look beautiful.” 

“You always say that.”

“Because its true.”

“I guess I just..I wanted to remind you that I’m a woman..”

“I know that, Princess.”

“Do you? Because I forget sometimes..” 

She ran her hands along the skirt of her dress, it was soft, she’d forgotten what soft clothes felt like.

“I’m just Middenlocke..”

“No, your Leta.” 

“Only you ever call me it, and even then only when no one else is around.”

“You’re Leta Victoria Middenlocke..” 

Her name had never sounded so perfect as it did coming from his mouth.

“All though, I do hope you’ll become Leta Victoria Gaunt..”

Her eyes widened, her eyebrows very almost reached her hairline.

“What?”

“I took so long out because I was getting something..”

He walked back to his coat, and when he returned he had small box in his palm

“And I had a whole plan about how I was going to suggest we take a walk and then I was going to propose under the moonlight..” He laughed, a rare sound coming from him “And then Colm went and buggered it all up by getting me drunk.” 

The ring was a gold band, simple, the only adornment was the Imperial Eagle etched into the center, Leta’s heart felt she had just survived a near death experience, she was used to that feeling, she’d had a lot of them. 

“But..How?” She asked “You…us…”

She knew from the moment she’d first kissed him, all those nights under the stars that they could never be anything official, no grand wedding, no children, no growing old together and planting tulips in a garden, that just wasn’t possible, Too many rules, too many differences between them.

She was the lowly penal legionnaire, he was the Colonel-Commissar, it just didn’t happen, not on this side of infinity.

“Ibram..I can’t be your wife.”

“Who says?”

“Literally everyone, love.” She scoffed “It would be career suicide for you and quite possibly actual suicide for me.” 

“It doesn’t have to be anything huge, I just..I want there to be a record of us somewhere…Some proof that..” He paused. “If either of us died, I’d want there to be evidence that this happened, That we loved each other.”

In all likelihood it was her who would die, that truth haunted every waking moment they spent together, a specter clawing at their happiness with ice cold claws, it would wait, a predator seeking its prey, as random as lightning striking the ground but it would come, they both knew this.

Leta Gaunt did have a ring to it.

“You have to ask me properly.”  

He smiled, and sank to one knee, Ibram Gaunt bowed to know one but the God Emperor, But he could make a exception in Leta’s case.

“Leta Victoria Middenlocke…would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”  

“Yes, Ibram, I would.”

He took the ring from the box and slid it on to her ring finger, it fit perfectly. 

He kissed her and then picked her up, he spun her around, the skirt of her dress spread around like the petals of a blooming flower and she laughed, for a moment, a fleeting moment they were just like any other newly engaged couple.

And by the Throne they would cling to this moment of happiness until the next one came along.