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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

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FLOWERS FOR THE SICK AND GONE (II)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER III

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 6.3k

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of stalking, talks of death, weapons, explosives, violence, gore, strained mother-daughter relationship, suggestive thoughts, mentions of sex, toxic modeling standards, etc. (Series 18+)

A/N: I started this before Nikto was confirmed for MWII multi., but I'll be using the 'Powercell' skin as his main attire now because it's literally so attractive.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You look at your hands as they rest in your lap, right foot jumping up and down in a display of internal anxiety under the table in your Mom’s office. It was cold, and the AC was turned all the way up; the floors barely helped—tile covered by thin rugs and windows open to the chilly morning. Like the opposite of Hellfire.

Two days had passed since the explosion and you’d only just gotten the ability to leave the hospital. The doctors had wanted to keep you longer, but you had turned in a favor from your matriarch to have them ease off with their prodding and poking.

The fact that they had been more interested in your permanent colorblindness had tipped you off that all the help you were going to be given had already been passed out. As a whole, that had been in the form of pain medication and surgical glue to the minuscule cut on your temple.

The head bleeds a lot, you know, even if the injury is minor. You weren’t overly surprised the gash had been tiny; you know what a violent wound to that part of the skull looks like.

Feels like.

Your lips thin at the thought of the nurses and their curious and narrowed eyes—the doctor wanting to do more in-depth tests as if you hadn’t gone through a slew of them before.

There was a reason you hated hospitals.

Shivering, you take a deep breath to calm down right as the door behind you opens with the sound of heeled feet and a hurried sigh. The door automatically shuts with a slam and a click of metal hinges.

“Thank God nothing happened to your face!” A hand sets itself on your shoulder and you restrain a flinch, looking to the side to the familiar face of your mom as her head tilts to look you up and down in your seat. “Stand up, let me see you.”

You open your mouth to speak but you’re quickly cut off by her serious expression.

Standing, you steady yourself by placing a hand on the side of the seat, knuckles tight as your casual sneakers take your weight. “It’s just a scratch Mom, promise. I got lucky.” When you can stand without the fear of falling over, you release it and study your mother’s fancy attire.

Dress pants, blouse, and pounds of extravagant jewelry around her neck and wrists like shackles. She looks just the same as you’d always seen her. Cold.

In some ways, she was more suited to this city than you were.

“I’ll say—you could have damaged your skin.” She motions to your body, shaking her head and sighing before moving behind her desk to sit down. A large window is behind her—shining in chilled light. “We’ll have to hope and pray that the cut heals before the next photoshoot you have scheduled. Have they told you when you’ll be back in the Agency?”

“...three people are dead, and you’re worried about me?” you say quietly, gut-twisting. “What about them?”

She pauses, her hand half holding a piece of paper from her pile. She glances up at you and thinks for a moment. Your eyes dig into hers, dejected. But she doesn’t think much of this, judging by the confused emotion that swirls behind her gray pigment.

“I’m sorry, Beauty,” no, she’s not. Your face pulls at the nickname, but you say nothing until she’s done talking. “But their job was to keep you safe. They succeeded, it’s unfortunate, I know, but if they had to…pass,” she strains through the word, not wanting to say the other. For your benefit or hers, you know not. “To keep you alive, then I say it was an even trade.”

It’s nearly like a slap to your face as your body goes tight, sitting back down into the seat with a puff of air. Like you’d just been slipped poison, your throat starts to fizzle with bile.

Yefim’s dead body slashes in the back of your mind; the lower half gone and the rest spilling out. Confused eyes and burned skin that smells like something out of a kitchen no matter how morbid the thought was.

She wasn’t there, you tell yourself. She doesn’t know how bad it was.

Screaming mixed in with crying and Alyona’s insistent barks of orders. Her hands pulled you up and shielded you from the disintegrated ash of Petya and Aleksandr. One splayed out the broken window and the other lay in an unrecognizable heap a foot from the bakery.

The only people to survive were the Baker’s boy and the two of you, but then again that was half.

“I don’t think that’s right—”

“If you were a mother, then you’d be agreeing with me,” the Consul explains, shaking her head. “But that’s not why I wanted to bring you here.” With your mom, sometimes it was better just to let things go and have them disappear into the past; you’d gotten good at brushing past comments just to satisfy her. It was just easier.

“Okay,” you whisper, looking down at your lap before closing your eyes. Looking back up, the woman is signing papers and doesn’t glance at you before speaking.

“There was a break-in at the bakery an hour before you went there,” your body stills, a strange feeling in your gut as it tightens. “Nothing was stolen but Mr. Morozov,” the owner, “says the locks were broken off; he never told authorities until now because it was minor. I think that leaves us with the answer about how that explosive got under the floorboards.” The scribble of a pen before it’s placed down and your mom’s eyes settle back on you with a frown on her lips. Her makeup makes her look like a stone statue you’d see in a museum; blank with an undertone of something else.

You stutter in broken intervals, repeatedly tapping your finger on your wrist, “How do you know about this?”

“I’m paid to know,” your mother mutters but offers more. “One of the employees is American. He’s here and planning to extend his visa for four years to care for his dying father.” Her voice drops. “Thank God that he wasn’t working.”

Being one of the two American Consulate Generals in Russia, your mother’s job was to, officially, “...Preserve and protect the relationship, and be a point of contact, between the United States of America and Russia.”

It also meant that any American citizens in Yekaterinburg were under her watchful eyes. This Consulate building provides a multitude of services—issuing visas, and renewing passports were the big ones, while registering births and deaths was also added to that chart. You’d never looked much into it, but knew it was intensive work. Everything ‘American’ going on in this city, your mom knows about.

“I’ve got a landfill of paperwork, so I’ll have to cut this off at the base,” she continues and you rub at the base of your cut with a flinching hand. You carefully tense as if a bombshell is going to be dropped on you, thighs shifting on the seat and feet unconsciously putting themselves farther under the chair.

The woman blinks at you and folds her hands on the table, knuckles tight.

“The Russian government is eager to keep lines of communication open with the USA, which means me.” You don’t like where this is going—certainly not with that folder that your mother was grabbing from out of her top drawer; having to unlock it with the name tag around her neck. A small beep echoes over the large room. “I don’t think I need to explain how much this puts me in a hole now that a stalker is after a Consul’s daughter and everyone knows about it.” You feel guilty but you don’t know why. This wasn’t your fault….right?

“I have meetings planned into next week from the second the sun rises until it peaks its stupid ass back up on the other end.” She speaks low, running a hand over her head but still keeping you in her sight. She slaps a bulging manila folder onto the desk and leans back with a sigh.

Your eyes meet in a locking of wills and you restrain yourself from apologizing. In your lap your hands clench.

“Any weapon,” she speaks slowly so you take in every word—as if you were a toddler. You hate when she gets like this. “Any goes through so many hoops to be owned it’s practically not worth it, and the same goes for possible parts used to make them. Whoever did this either has connections or a pile of money to use for bribes; I don’t know which I’d prefer, but based on his presents I have a good guess.”

“But why would someone do that?” You have to speak—to ask. How could someone be so cruel and malicious? Kill someone—multiple someones? To you, it was just unthinkable. Even just being a part of it had wreaked your sleep schedule, left you writhing in bed from an inability to sleep out of fear of seeing Yefim’s face again—gray blood; colorless gore. It was a chore to get up in the morning and eat what little you could.

Being unable to see color had never left you more terrified than when that pretty boy’s eyes had stared into yours until everything was snuffed out like a matchstick.

“Because this person,” the Consul states, answering you firmly. “He doesn’t care about you as an individual. To him, Beauty…you’re just an object that he wants to own. Your picture is all he thinks about and everyone else needs to be out of the background, do you understand?”

You go lightheaded, face quickly tilting down and contorting into itself.

Your mother sits straighter and reaches a hand across the table, lightly saying your name with the voice she would use to read stories in your youth. Skin burning, you look at it, but after a moment you weakly place your own into hers, heart hammering and brain laced with a primal fear. Though the woman’s grip tightens and squeezes lightly, you get no warmth from the gesture. Yet still, it’s better than nothing.

Alyona was away with her relatives and fiance since she’d been released from the hospital earlier; you’d spoken there briefly, but it wasn’t the same as it would have been if you’d had her here.

“We’re going to get this figured out, okay?” You nod, trying to smile as she studies your face—lingering on your temple before she frowns deeply and pulls back. Loudly, she states, “I’ll order some scar cream to your penthouse when we’re done.”

“Alright,” your lips mumble, ribs like iron cages for too-large lungs.

“But now into the important part. I need you to pick one.” She pushes the folder closer to you, and your hand snaps out to grab it. It instead punches the desk and you hiss, bringing it back to your chest. Your mother minutely blinks in shock, eyes confused. “Still with that Spatial Awareness? I thought you said it was getting better?”

“I’m…still working through it,” you grumble. You wanted to tell her there wasn’t any ‘getting better’ from this. It was just another problem you’d have to deal with your entire life. But, again, it’s easier.

She huffs as you correctly locate the folder and pick it up, placing it gently into your lap and flipping it open. Inside you find file after file, taking the first one into your fingers and propping it up before blinking in confusion at the black ink and tiny picture of a man.

You briefly look at the name, processing, before gazing back up at the woman with a furrow in your brows.

“Mom?”

She smiles.

“I have three men of Russian descent who are candidates to be your next around-the-clock guard.” Your matriarch is oblivious to your apparent hesitation to take on another person into your life, your shoulders hunching in. “All part of a PMC group called KorTac. I’d ask for a broader scale, but being born here and previously serving in the military would give them far more privileges than any others.”

You’re already shaking your head, “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. I still have to send my apologies to all the others’ families. I–I,” your voice cuts before you can let the tears weigh your sentence down with emotion.

Your mother didn’t do that kind of thing.

“Sweetheart,” the woman draws out, shaking her head, “they don’t want to hear from you, you know that.” Her voice hardens. “You’re my responsibility. Now, look at the options.”

Gritting your teeth, you want to stand and stalk out, say to hell with her PMCs and her bland eyes. The way she talks with care but hides it behind a wall of knives like some protective barrier; like she needs to do that.

But you stay your voice and look back down, brushing past pages to have all of the pictures lined up right next to each other.

Blinking, you ask, numbly, “What kind of privileges?”

Your mother smiles though a thankful breath. “Weapons, body armor; they’ll be allowed to enter and go about business as they see fit without normal blockades. People here trust their own.”

Fire races through your mind, all-consuming black smoke and the bland ash of a burning building. Trust their own? One of their own had just killed three people and injured three more just to get your attention. How was that trust?

Your eyes gloss over words, or what little of them you could read beyond inked-out sections. Names smudge and achievements blurr; medals with no hold on you and a list of missions accomplished with what you assumed to be perfect records.

“These men have killed people,” you say, shifting to the last file as you don’t look at it right away, instead leveling the Consul with a pleading twist to your lips. “A lot of people.”

As an individual, you wouldn’t say you were very confrontational or quick to jump to violence—you did damage control and appeased more than antagonized. There was less stress when everyone could get a portion of what they wanted.

You just didn’t like senseless brutality.

“Then there’s no one better for the job.” Sometimes you wonder if your mother even raised you at all.

Forehead creased, you shift back to the papers, staring at the last man of the three in a moment of flickering orbs. His intimidating appearance makes your eyes go slightly wider with shock as you focus in.

Nikto is all that was given for the man’s name—Russian: Никто—and the individual was shrouded in so much black you wondered if he might create a void of energy around him; some kind of gruff and grueling cloud. Even from the picture, the pale, contrasted, eyes dug into you, even brighter than Petya’s had once been. Though, these eyes were inlaid into some strange mask, the top of the covering a type of Kevlar and the bottom covered in rough canvas that pulls back and completely covers the rest of the head. There are straps that extend to hold his chin and on the sides of his nose…

Your face pulls with mild disgust. Are those two screws? What the hell…?

This Russian was, plainly put, the face of death. Perhaps even something worse.

The theme of black continued, as it was the only color besides white you could identify. Strapped vest of armor plates, arms and hands that rest behind his back covered by long sleeves. Ammo was clipped at the sides of his upper chest and a large collar of armor stamped with the letters and number of ‘MP-0’. Your eyes slide to what you can read about him, morbidly intrigued as you frown at his belt full of grenades and knives. An assault rifle hangs from his chest by a long strap, limp as a dead limb.

But as you look, there was even less information available about this beast than there was visible skin behind the face-paint smeared into his sockets. Not even an age.

“Nikto,” you murmur. You wondered why you liked how it slipped off the tongue.

But you’ll also wonder in the future why you choose him at all.

Maybe it was the way for the first time in two days you’d felt something other than fear and regret; something that spread like water into the lines of your face to make them smooth. Maybe it was because out of the others, he would be the type to do his job and then leave entirely without a trace.

A blink and then…gone.

You can't have anyone else die on you—and Nikto seems the only one able to take death by the throat and throttle him with the handle of his own scythe.

Maybe.

Your head tilted, and you blinked.

“This one,” you toss the file to your mother’s desk and watch it hit off-center. the woman’s face twitches at the monster-esc profile. It’s like she ages ten years.

“...Lovely.”

—

One day later you meet Nikto, but before you do, you make a quick visit to the hospital with a bundle of fresh flowers. You’d brokenly asked for blue and white, but you can’t verify if that was really what you were holding.

At the front desk, you ask for room three and are simply pointed down the hallway without a word. A small smile is handed over, but no one answers as you slink away, guiding your legs along the lines of the tile on the ground. Standing outside you knock softly and grasp the handle, pushing it open after a deep breath.

The Baker’s Boy lays in a bed and his dark eyes snap to yours immediately, widening. His curls are crisped and shorter now, singed at the ends. Arms taped with bandages and gauze, his wounds are not wide-spread but severe enough to keep him for longer than you and Alyona.

“Sergei?” You ask, standing in the doorway and plastering a soft smile on your face. You’d gotten his name through a text with Aly, where she asked you to give him a kind word as you dropped off your gift.

Sergi blinks quickly at you, and something like fear slashes his face. You raise your hands rapidly, flowers in the crook of your elbow.

“N-no, I’m sorry. I know you’ve probably heard a lot about me, the news has been…uh…” Your words trail to a fake chuff of laughter, looking to the side wall for a moment. “Well, it’s not right of me to take no blame.” The man only stares and stays silent, sitting up straighter in bed and thinning his lips. His body is tense.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to drop these off. I-I’ll leave.” Walking quickly to the side table, you place down the flowers and clear your throat, sending him a very guilty glance. “The woman I was with gives her well-wishes for your recovery. I’m sorry,” you say again, nodding your head and locking your hands in front of your abdomen.

Turning on your feet like an elite track star, you dart quickly back to the door.

“Girl.” You halt in the doorway, one arm quivering just as it had before the explosion. Your head swivels, surprised.

Sergi gazes at you, his dark eyes large and serious, tinged with unease. His English is barely understandable, and he struggles through the words with an accent so deep it’s a series of throaty grunts.

“Do not come back.”

Your lungs tighten as if someone squeezes them in a ruthless fist. Nodding shakily, you dash out and don’t stop until you’re back outside, breathing in gasps and putting a hand to your mouth to stifle your ragged breaths. People who come and go look at you as you lean heavily into the wall, some concernedly furrowing their brows but ultimately walking past.

You suppose they didn’t recognize you in all of the normal clothes—a thick turtleneck under a jacket and sweatpants. No makeup with a ball cap atop your head. Clearing your dry throat, you get a hold of yourself and keep your face down-cast, slithering off with a zig-zag pattern of feet.

It’s okay. It’s okay. He has a right to feel like that. It’s going to be okay.

But it doesn’t stop the pit in your heart from growing until it threatens to swallow you whole.

It’s only when you’re five minutes late to the Consulate building that your mother levels you with an unimpressed look, standing at the entrance with her arms crossed. You walk quickly to hide the rings around your eyes from her, not wanting to start an argument about what went wrong.

“He’s been here for half an hour, Seraph,” you cringe, waving to the woman at the front desk who nods and gives a pitying tilt of her head.

Half an hour? Talk about a time freak.

“I know, I’m sorry, I just lost track of time.” Hands take you by the side of your arms and swivel you back around as you hang up your jacket, making you flinch but go along with the action.

Your mother levels you with a stare that the long it goes on, eases. It mingles on the border of comfort and concern before she awkwardly squeezes and lets go of you, eyelids blinking to study the trash can near the door.

“Stop…apologizing, Beauty.” The curtain re-falls and your mom stands straighter, brushing down her fitted blouse and clearing her throat. “It’s unbecoming. Now, remember to smile—everyone loves your smile.”

You hide your yearning and plaster on a fake grin, feeling nervousness infecting your blood.

In your career, meeting new people was a requirement. Photographers, other models, business associates who reach out for brand deals; the list was long. Beyond a desirable body and the mask of provocative expressions, physical image was only a part of it—being good at playing sales broker added to appeal. At the parties AMA shipped you off to, especially.

Alyona often called the two of you exceptionally well-paid and up-standing sex workers, but withholding the intimacy of sheets and panting breath. You sold the idea of sex just by being there, which, oftentimes, is far better than the sin of flesh itself. Your agency knows it well.

Your face was an asset; just like your body and expressions—a tool.

But somehow you knew that whatever face you put on, model or the woman who’d just seen immense horror, it wouldn’t matter in the slightest. Just on a picture alone, Nikto had ingrained himself in your mind as an idol of seriousness and blunt orders. Not like Yefim, but somehow that made you feel better about this situation. It was even the reason you had chosen him in the first place.

No getting close to this one, you reason as your mother guides you down a hallway, hand firm on your back.

“Is there anything I can know besides his name?” Watching room after room passes you, you’re brought to the far back of the Consulate building. You study the large wooden door.

It’s a moment before your mom responds, rubbing lightly along your spine. “I’ve heard he’s a former FSB Agent. Spetsnaz as well. He has an extensive record, but no...concerns to worry about. You’re in exceptionally good hands.”

“Concerns?” A huff. “Like if he’ll kill me before the creep has the chance,” you’re leveled with a stiff look.

“No one is going to die, Seraph.” People already have.

With a frown, you grasp the handle and shrug off your mother’s touch, entering the room and letting the door shut behind you with a thump as you pad through. It’s only a millisecond, but you plaster back on a content expression and loosen your muscles; the internal warfare of constant tension makes everything ache.

You lock eyes with a standing absence of light.

In person, he was even more dark…and you didn’t just mean the outfit. Staring, bright eyes dig into your soul with no emotions—so departed from normal expression it’s like looking into a corpse.

Nikto’s standing with his hands behind his back, his shoulders loose but pulled with soldier-like authority. He’s tall, and the large bulk of his chest and thighs make you swallow down saliva as you stand still and blink quickly. His stomach bulges with muscle from under his armor—the same you’d seen in his profile.

The Russian was all the same except for the lack of weapons, though, the duffel bag at his side certainly held them in its inky depths.

He’s built like a damn brick wall, your mind blanks, not lying with the feelings of slight unease. Nikto was just…still. Not blinking. Watching you with a gleam of something strange. The Russian man’s eyes narrow with…disgust? Maybe you were reading too much into that, but one thing was certain.

He was studying you... aggressively. Prodding.

A second passes like this.

Oh, your face remains a plastered calm but your heart skips a beat, he’s waiting for me to introduce myself. You quickly clear your throat and walk forward, not seeing the way he tenses and sets his feet harder into the ground.

“Umh,” scolding yourself for your hesitation, you shakily put out a hand for him to shake, keeping a respectable distance away.

Finally, a slight movement; a dart of his eyes down to your limb.

“I’m Seraph, nice to meet you. You go by Nikto, right? Just Nikto…? I’m sorry, that was all I was able to read on your file.” You’re blinked at slowly, left gazing up into this beast's covered face and his terrifying mask of fabric and rigid material.

How tall can a man be before it becomes insulting to be standing next to him?

As the silence continues, your hand stutters before you let it fall, awkwardly stuffing it into your pocket.

Alright.

“There was…” You lick your lips, glancing off to a gray picture on the far wall. “A lot of black ink, to be honest. Quite the record, huh?”

A strained chuckle bounces off the small space.

Nikto doesn’t respond and you blink quickly through confusion and growing embarrassment. Your face burns like a heat gun was set on it. A highly uncomfortable silence falls, but you very much doubt that the man in front of you even feels it like you do—a slow deterioration of your confidence.

And why in the hell was he still looking at you like that?! All you’d done is walk through the damn door and lock eyes with him!

But then he speaks as you’re just about to turn away and walk out of the room with your tail between your legs, mentally exhausted and needing to put ice on your forehead.

“Seraph, like angel?” Broken English, but better than Sergi’s. What caught you was the depth of it—the rough scrape of vocal cords and raspy grit. Sandpaper, nearly. You restrain yourself from cringing. Nikto scoffs and he looks away from you, stance immobile. “You do not look like angel.”

Your mind takes a moment to latch onto the words, jaw slackening in shock and lashes fluttering for a second. “E…excuse me?”

Nikto grunts and glares at the door.

It’s your turn to stare, mouth opening and closing with small smacks of lips with a sudden blankness to your brain. Your ability to speak seems to leave you in a small instant between the stab of insult and brief anger. While you felt yourself above the base instinct of vexation, Nikto’s words had soaked you in their substance of prodding bluntness.

Your beauty was all you had, certainly, he hadn’t meant that. Surely it was just a translation error. Your lips darken with a frown, eyes flashing.

But something else pierces you in the chest, too.

Without another exchange, you turn around and begin walking to the exit, hands in your pockets clenched into your palms. There’s a silent padding of feet right behind you and the shuffle of a duffel bag. Your body freezes and you slowly look over your shoulder.

The Void follows, bag in hand and dead eyes peeling back your psyche as if this was normal; you find him a few steps forward from where he was, like your own personal shadow.

He freezes as you do, but this is more… purposeful. Both of you lock gazes, nothingness and veiled discourse flaring.

But you were better than that.

You had to be better.

So you soften your expression and, under your breath, sigh heavily. “I’ll write you up my schedule,” Nikto blinks, brows barely pulling in. “Get you a copy from AMA or something.”

“Already acquired.” His hulking figure seems to always be tense and ready to strike. For a second you’re reminded of Petya with a sharp slap to your face. But Nikto’s bark is far sterner if that was even possible. Almost like a single sound.

You bring a hand to itch at your temple, stopping before you can peel at the soft skin covered in scar cream.

“...Right,” at a slight loss of what to do, you shuffle your feet and open the door—leaving the room and holding the thing partially open behind you for the Russian. “Of course.” Your grumble only meets your ears, put off.

Nikto moves out of the doorway, having to slightly tilt his shoulders to fit through the opening without slamming into the frame. He does so fluidly and almost robotically.

“Has anyone ever told you that you walk like a scary dog?” You let go of the door and pull ahead, smiling somewhat more real as the light eyes snap down at you. There’s a brief grunt of breath from behind his mask.

Nikto is silent for a long while, growling out, “Hет.” Formal. Brisk.

No.

You get the feeling that you’re annoying him, but you can’t help but slightly enjoy it. Finally, some semblance of normality you could cling to. “Well, they should,” you admit, studying the loping walk—a slightly tilted pace that would suit a wolf or a bear, even. Making sure your own hand slides against the wall to keep you in a straight line, you continue, cheekily. “Because you do.”

Nikto stares straight ahead and stays silent, something akin to irritation in his visible portions; free hand twitching. You tilt your head.

“Y’know, this would be better if you could hold a conversation.”

“Да.” You smile wider.

“So you’ll have a conversation with me?”

“Hет.” Nikto glares from a side-eye, the words hissed through clenched teeth. If he was this easy to rile up, this would be more fun than you thought.

Your eyes linger on his form, the biceps, and the forearms that strain behind padded pieces of thick material. Combat boots and loose black cargo pants shoved into them.

This might be a good distraction, at the very least. Let the authorities work in the background and keep this cut of the crop. No feelings, of course. Not like Yefim, you remind yourself again. Never again like Yefim.

The dead man’s face slips behind your eyelids and you blink your face forward.

“Are you only going to say ‘yes’ or ‘no?’” Nikto’s bulk enshrouds you heavily as you take a right back to the lobby where your mother waits. He hums in his throat, before muttering something under his breath in harsh Russian. You have no idea what that means or if you even want to decipher it, you shrug and shut up.

It was probably a curse anyway. Or a plea for reassignment.

Your mother’s face pulls tight as Nikto shows himself beside you, his sights locking onto the Consul as you grab your jacket, missing the hook once before you grasp it firmly and slip it on.

“If everything is in order…?” She trails, before frowning at the man and coming over to you.

“We can always find a way to bring you back to the States,” you blink, her face serious as it slashes through you. “Get your passport up to date and find a different modeling agency.”

What’s with the change in attitude? You ask yourself, brows pulling in and studying your mom’s expression. She’s older, but maybe you’re only realizing it now that you care to look. Wrinkles and a certain film to her gaze that parents seem to grow when they’re trying to convince you of something.

Nikto watches and listens closely a few feet from the door, duffel bag still in hand.

“You know that’s not an option. Allurement is exclusive—I won’t get a better deal than the one I have.” Your words come out confused. “Weren’t you the one that told me this was the best option, that they would be the only ones to take me?” You pause. “Especially with the way I am?”

Her face twists, shaking her head instantly with a scrunched nose and flashing orbs. Even mentioning what happened made her act like water near the brim of a glass; one shake and the liquid would seep over and pool to the counter. “I don’t remember saying that.”

You close your mouth before changing the subject, offering an easy, yet strained, smile.

“I’m going to be okay, Mom. Besides, the guy’ll get caught before we know it. All of them do. Petya, Aleksandr, and Yefim,” your voice tightens, “will get to rest easy.”

Your matriarch gives a small twitch of her lips back, kisses your forehead, and says, “Alright, Beauty,” you hide your cringe, “I’m one call away.”

She walks off with a click of her heels.

“Girl,” you look up from zipping your jacket. Nikto glares at you. “быстро. Hurry up.”

“Hurry up?” Your voice bounces as you make your way to the exit, sending a thinly hidden face of amusement. “I’m just going home, there’s no rush to things.”

“We need to secure the premises.”

We? You nearly ask, wondering what he meant. Obviously, he didn’t mean you and him, based on general attitude right now. Maybe that was just a strange quirk of his.

“Around my penthouse?” Nikto’s shoulder presses on the barrier and he’s outside before you can finish your sentence. You narrowly catch the door and slip past like a horrible snake, elbow slapping the frame—you hold back a hiss and enter the street. “I…I don’t think it’s overly necessary, the police move through that area a lot—”

“Not the penthouse, Whelp,” you struggle along, feet rapid to stay at his side and multitask by staying in a line. He walks in long strides, parting people away from him with only a sharp glance and a scoff. “Inside.”

Your body halts before you blink back to your senses and make a noise in the back of your throat.

“I-inside, Nikto? I’m sorry, I’m not following.” You huff under your breath and stick beside him, using his presence as a sort of barrier. He walks near the road. “I never agreed to that. And Whelp? What the hell, man?”

“I do not care.”

“You’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” You grumble, sighing.

I guess I’m having guests.

Has your mother given permission for that? A stranger with weapons thumping inside of your penthouse like he was your live-in boy toy? Eating in your kitchen and putting his feet up on the coffee table? God, the public would have a field day with it when they saw him walking down with you in the morning to go to work.

He couldn’t have been put in the building across the street? But you suppose there are worse things that can happen—you have the space for it. With a dejected expression, you sigh; you seem to be doing that a lot recently.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Nikto stares down at you as your feet stutter along, seeming to raise a brow in annoyed question as to why you were struggling to keep up.

You wondered how much he had been told beyond some rich Consul's daughter needed a new bodyguard. Did he know any of it?

“What?” Your lips twist, smile flicking out. “See something you like?”

“No. You’re slow.” You hide your groan and face forward, brows falling into a line.

But you’re not oblivious to the way his piercing eyes survey the crowd, and while the mask is drawing attention, random people peeping break off like sticks as he’s clocked by you, darting to make room. How his large shoulders span and block the road from you, pace pulling back to fit right behind you with a low grunt as your arms brush.

A grunter too—he really is a scary dog.

“Why do you walk like this,” Nikto growls. “Are you unable to feel your feet? It is pathetic.”

“Are you going to stop insulting me?” You glare ahead and cross your arms. “Or are you going to keep playing the jerk until this is over?”

His eyes burn into yours for a moment, before he places such a heavy hand on your shoulder that you almost squeak at the pressure. It nearly slants you forward before your back tightens.

“Keep quiet. Walk.”

“Well, now I don’t think I’m going to,” his eyes flash, those colorless films going into themselves with tiny flecks of surprise. You suppose no one’s ever had banter like this with him before, being in a PMC…or really just being him as a whole. He doesn’t seem the joking type over a back-handed sarcastic comment.

“So, how has your day been, Nikto?” Your voice is smug and your smile large, perfect and bright, and ravishing. “Today I woke up at five AM and ate an apple with yogurt. Then I—”

Nikto growls deeply and forces you on through a gawking crowd.

The rest of the walk is filled with a one-sided conversation coming from a grinning face, pale, boiling eyes, and the shadow across the street who watches through the thin glass of a bookstore. The perfect view.

A hat on his head.

A slight distance to his addled expression.

A medium slip-joint knife in his pocket.

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heartilywrites · 21 days

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hi hi!! can i req a kuvira x fem!waterbender reader where the reader is on team avatar and they met in s3 and we’re all flirty, what would kuvira do to r in s4?? ty!!

،، Everlasting love ; Kuvira

resume: where Kuvira and you started something you didn’t know how it could end.

content warning: fem!waterbender reader x Kuvira ; description of eye color ; you're part of team avatar ! ; time skip ; kinda long os ; no use of y/n ; open ending

wc: 3k

a/n: I'm sorry I took too long to write this one, but I was trying to get everything I wanted to explore in just one post and apparently I can't do that in under 2k words🧍🏽‍♀️ HOPE YOU ENJOY :D

“ Once upon a time, I was falling in love, but now I’m only falling apart.

Blue eyes wandered around the landscape with such fascination, you were so immersed in your own thoughts about the city that didn't realize when the group stopped by a big salon, your body bumped with Mako.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Shit, sorry...! Where are we?” you asked to the bender, clearly you didn't pay attention to anything said before.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Meeting the mother of the airbender.” he said making you face the other way were some metalbenders were doing a choreography.

Now you stood still watching the dance unfold right infront of you. You were so amazed at the way they used the metal to catch people and how easy it looked to bend.

At the final stand, your sight got caught by one of the girls at the very top, even from afar you could spot a little dot below her left eye.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let's take a break, everyone!” you heard the matriarch say and giggle a little bit at how fast everyone scatter.

Your eyes followed the girl and Kuvira could feel your gaze in her, so when she turned around to get a glance of who was looking at her your hand waved timidly.

Korra called your name when she saw you distracted, her head made a movement about going out of there and you were quick to follow.

It was safe to say that now the metalbender was all you could think of, you went with the team to the city in a mission to meet the new airbender and take her to the north with the rest of the nomads, but that was all. You couldn't do much as a waterbender in a city made of metal, so you went wandering around the place, still mesmerized with the architecture.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey!” you smiled at the captain when both paths bumped each other. “You're the one in the dance group, aren't you?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Kuvira.” the soldier presented herself, you said your name back. “You're the one that came with the avatar.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I am, she's with Su's daughter right now.” you explained, tilting your head to the left. “And I wanted to explore a little bit...” both your hands went to your back, you didn't lose anything trying to shoot your shot, right? “Do you know any good guide that could show me around?”

Kuvira looked confused for a good second, she couldn't seriously don't catch that. “I thought Aiwei showed you around.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I mean... Not really, he showed us like two places at best.” you said, shrugging. “Just if you can, maybe you can show me around?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh...” you saw the girl's cheeks change to the most subtle tone of pink, her head moved trying to hide it. “Well, right now I'm on duty, but..”

She stood in silence, thinking for a bit while your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth for what felt almost an eternity.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “How about at dawn we meet at the door of your dorm?” she finally said, you nodded way too fast for your liking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Would love to!” your smile grew being met with one smile of hers, a little bit smaller. “See you at dawn, then.”

She made a little bow which you reciprocated and both continue each respective way.

The rest of the day you were humming a melody while walking around, sitting down or even just existing. Your friends were quick to catch up your change of acting. The first one to point it out was the avatar.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Spill it, what got you so happy?” she asked once your group was alone, Asami giggled.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Not what, who got her happy? Is the real question.” the inventor corrected the girl, Korra opened her mouth surprised looking back at you after looking at Asami.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No one!” you started, trying to hide a smile, a couple seconds where needed for you to get closer to the girls. “Okay, there's this girl in the guard team...” your friends assemble with you, Bolin taking place beside the non bender, interested too in what was said about your new crush.

Mako rolled his eyes funnily before getting pulled in by his brother.

Now that your friends knew, you totally regretted it when the time came and you were waiting for Kuvira... with the rest of the team at your back. At the very sight of the metalbender, you were so quick to get water out of the container you always carry on you and threw it at them gaining a small scream from the earthbender and some grunts from the fire nation pair. A mufled 'bitch!' was said by the avatar in a friendly way, everyone went inside to hide giggling when they heard the captain greet you. Clearly peaking out the window, fighting each other in whispers and dropping to the floor when Kuvira almost got them in the act.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm sorry if I made you wait too long, there were some matters I needed to take care of.” she excused herself, you were quick to shake your head.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Don't worry!” you almost shouted, blinking a couple times before clearing your throat. “I mean, uhh, it's okay, let's go.”

Almost in a desperate manner, you took Kuviras wrist and made her walk with hurry away from your friends, you already knew they would make fun of you.

The first ten minutes were a bit uncomfortable for both parties, Kuvira would point a spot and tell you the history behind it and you would nod while looking at her instead of where she pointed, but you making questions about them was what made the metalbender relax in your presence and once you felt that from her, you relaxed too.

At one point of the night, Kuvira led both of you to a viewpoint in the city, the moon was starting to rise in-between the mountains surrounding the valley and the captain stopped right at the handrail.

She stopped your talking about how the night started to feel cool and pointed for you to look: they were closing the domes, your mouth opened amazed at the view of big pieces of metal rise on your surrounding and close on top like a cocoon would. While looking up you walked backwards and bumped into the dark haired making her laugh in low voice, her arms got you so you wouldn't fall.

Once the show was over you turned to the body next to you and took a step back from her almost embarrassed, Kuvira stopped her hands from looking for you again. “Sorry, heh, I don’t have good balance while looking up.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's okay...” she murmured smiling a little bit, her hands rubbed against each other before putting them behind her back. “I think that's all the history and places of Zaofu that I can teach you so far.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It was great,” you confessed, your body looked to sit on the handrail, moving your feet in the air. “You should be a tour guide, it suits you.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm okay being a captain.” she said after laughing at your idea, you smiled big. “Want me to walk you back?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let's stay a little bit more, yeah?” you requested leaning on your hands. Kuvira nodded before starting a new conversation.

The next couple of days were mere chaos for everyone since the infiltration of the Red Lotus, so you and Kuvira saw each other less and less, but everytime both were in the same area she would wink at you and you would smile back or vice-versa. Before leaving the metal clan to follow Aiwei on his plan you left a note for Kuvira on her hand on your way out and waved her goodbye without saying a word.

“I had fun with you this days, call me when all of this is over. ;)” followed by your land-line number and your name as signature.

If you were honest, the following days were a big blur in your memory. Fighting some crazy powerful benders and seeing your best friend so close to dying got the best of you, but you were so glad to have all of your friends alive and well.

A couple of weeks passed and after Jinora's ceremony and Korra's departure to the south, you received Kuvira's call.

You were so happy when you heard her voice again, the feeling was the same from her side. The first call would be filled with silence and some other typical question from the other, but both of you dragged it as much as you could to not hang up so quickly.

The next calls were more interactive, she would tell you about her day and you would tell her about yours, the thoughts on your mind, her descriptions about training or dance practice, both promising to visit the other as soon as possible.

But it didn’t last long.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You... You want to unify the Earth Kingdom?” you asked stopping your pace in your apartment, on one hand you had the phone's base and the other the phone close to your ear.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Someone has to.” she said, on her end you could hear noises of people walking and talking about loading stuff. “Bataar and I are going to take the role on that since Suyin is too self-centered to do so.”

Your body had moved to the closest sofa and you sat down in there while bitting your nail. “Are you sure about this? It could... I don’t know, be a bad idea? There are way too many bandits in every state. They will eventually choose a monarch, no? They can handle it.”

A deafing silence filled the line, Kuvira sighed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I knew you wouldn't understand it, your nation is not the one on the verge of falling apart.” her voice hardened, you blinked surprised. You tried to call for her by name. “I have to go, there are things I need to do.”

And she hung up leaving you with a frown while looking at the phone.

That was the last you knew about her, you tried to call her back but only got through Bataar and when asking about the metalbender he would just say she wasn't there and hang up.

Weeks passed, everyone started on their own things and you could only get more worried about the girl. You knew Bolin got into her team and you thought that if maybe he was there it meant that the situation couldn't be that bad, right?

Wrong, as the time passed by you only heard bad to worse things about Kuvira. They called her the great uniter and with that name you heard about the way she would make the states surrender to her. After three years you had totally gave up on having contact with her, but you continue to have contact with Bolin, after all he was one of your best friends and you wanted to know about him.

He would tell you about the train, the destinations and how Kuvira was doing in a "discreet" way since he knew about how you liked her, Bolin was lucky to not be near you when you read those parts.

On the day of the coronation, you were in the north water tribe with your family; you've been living there after the second year with the excuse that your parents needed help at home and it would also give you time to breath familiar air with the whole team dispersed, but your peace wouldn't last much as you heard on the radio news about how Kuvira named herself the leader of the new Earth Empire.

It took a call from Mako saying how they needed all hands on deck to stop Kuvira to get you back in Republic City. Bolin was in charge to update you with everything after you greeted everyone with a hug.

You couldn’t believe how the ex–captain got so power-hungry to the point of initiating a dictatorship, you felt as she was a completely different person to the one you met at Zaofu.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You need to talk to her.” you heard the detective say, snapping you out of your thoughts.

After blinking for a moment and digest Mako's words, you frowned. “Why me? Korra should try to talk to her again.” you pointed to the shorthaired one.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Because she's crazy about you.” Asami said in a almost funny tone. “Bolin told us how she would ask him all the time how you were doing.”

Your eyes shot to the earthbender, clearly he hid that from you, the boy tried to shrink himself in his place.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “She used to say she wanted to talk to you and try to make you part of the army somehow, I used to tell her that it was a crazy idea because you are a waterbender and the army was all earthbenders... and Varrick, but he was the engineer and she would say that you could be her right hand at everything and–” his word vomit got interrupted by the avatar.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “See?” the other waterbender took your hands into hers. “Try it, for us... For the city, we don't have too many options and I know you still care about her.”

Korra said that last part with such caution, trying to not get a bad reaction from your side, expectant to your gestures and face. You were static in your place, how could you do that? It was true, you didn’t disagree with the avatar, you still cared for Kuvira. After all, the time shared with her was one that you always thought about when you felt nostalgic, she made you feel good, you had discovered feelings you didn’t thought you ever had with anyone ever and it did hurt seeing how the earthbender changed for worst.

Your hands squeezed the ones holding them and a faint smile appeared on your face.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Okay, I'll try it..” a cheer burst in the room by your friends.

You were amazed at how fast they got Kuvira on the line ready to talk to you, with everyone at your back you took the radio on your hand and cleared your throat. She talked first, calling you by your name.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, you.” you said, nervously and bitting your inner cheek. You would never know, but she softened at the sound of your voice, thankfully she was alone. “It's been so long, huh?”

A small giggled left her mouth and you got goosebumps at the sound. “It has... I'm sorry at how I ended things.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You don't have to apologize, Kuvira, I'm just glad you're okay..” you said in a whisper, there was silence then, you were thinking and she was waiting for you. Korra poked your side making you wiggle a bit, saying non-verbally that you needed to start. “But you are in time to stop your plan.”

She sighed exhausted, shaking her head a little bit. “I knew this was about the unification.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Kuvira, you need to stop.” the avatar tried to jump in, your arm stopped her from taking the radio off your hand.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “...Can we talk privately? Just the two of us.” she talked to you, saying your name at the end. You turned to your friends who were looking over your shoulder expectant.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I got this,” you assured the group with a smile. “Please leave us alone, it will be fine.”

Everyone was hesitant about leaving, but finally let you by your own with only the radio.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Kuvira, please, think this through.” you started once they left the room.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Join me.” she spat suddenly, taking the words out of you. “Be my right hand in the unification.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Kuvira... I don’t—”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Rule the Earth Empire with me.” she interrupted. “There was not a day I didn’t imagine us together ruling the empire, of us being together.”

Your mind turned blank at what was said, she didn’t stop thinking of you. Just like you didn’t stop thinking of her...

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I would give my army if that means you will be with me in this new era for my nation.” Your eyes were dancing everywhere, looking for something that could give you answers. “Please, primrose, be my consort. Rule with me.”

The nickname and title said threw you out of yourself.

You were ashamed to say there was a part of you considering the offering, but how could you do that to your friends? to Republic City? Your feelings for Kuvira were strong, but were they that intense to betray everyone else? To betray the friends who lend you their hand when you needed them? Those who you have gone through hell and heaven with, the ones on the other side of the door waiting for you to have an answer for them, the group of people that wanted to save a whole city and called you in because they knew it would work out with you there as well.

After giving her your answer you stopped the communication and went to open the door, making the four fall at your feet as they were over the door trying to listen. “Oh, hey, how are ya?” Bolin asked like nothing.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “And? How it went?” Korra asked once she got back on her own feet, one look at your expression and she knew something was wrong with you. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You nodded and breath in deep before breaking the news. “We need to get ready to defend the city.”

Even though your feelings for the girl were strong, they didn’t blind you to follow her in the dark. With the hurt of your heart, you had to stopped her, even if that meant that what you two had would disappear.

#the legend of korra #the legend of korra x reader #kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira fluff #request #kuvira x you #kuvira x fem!reader

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randomshyperson · 2 years

Text

Coffee Stain - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The one where Reader has been tutoring the twins for a few months, and not falling in love with the stunning Wanda Maximoff is an impossible task. | Requested by @abimess .

Warnings: Lots of fluff and domesticity, attempted humor and bad jokes, Milf!Wanda being adorable and a gay disaster, unspecified age gap, some mentions of low self-esteem and signs of an abusive past-relationship, kissing and making out, and Dom!Wanda allusions and implicit smut. || Words: 4.063k

General Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

When Agatha reassigned you to the mentorship of the Maximoff Twins, you were apprehensive about the proximity of their residences.

Since you started working at the Salem Institute, all your students were from the city center, and you were used to the subway ride of at least twenty minutes, the practice of having a cold drink at the local coffee shop became a treasured hobby over time.

But almost six months ago, a new family had moved into the empty house four doors down from your own, and apparently, as soon as they were stabilized, the matriarch looked for school assistance for the children. Billy and Tommy were in elementary school, and both have considerable difficulty in class - most likely because of the switch from homeschooling to the new model.

At first, you were afraid to give up your routine to attend to the Maximoffs, but besides Agatha insisting that you were the most viable option because of the proximity, you met the boys' mother at the street fair.

Wanda Maximoff was something else.

A few years older than you, and undeniably gorgeous. She was distracted by the shopping list and didn't notice that she hadn't backed the shopping cart up properly, but you stopped the little metal vehicle before it crashed and splattered her fruits. She gave a relieved laugh, promptly going to thank you, and you were so charmed by her smile that you couldn't help but introduce yourself.

"Oh, you're tutor that Agatha mentioned!" She suddenly recognized you, and you blinked curiously as Wanda started babbling about having gone to the institute after teachers, and Agatha having shown her on her computer dozens of options. You made a mental note about commenting to Agatha about digital security before focusing your attention completely on Wanda.

And after spending practically the entire morning chatting away with your new neighbor while you were shopping for vegetables together, you couldn't help but agree and immediately assure her that you would be tutoring the twins.

That was four months ago.

Now, you know as much about Wanda as Billy and Tommy know mathematics.

For instance, she is a writer and works from home practically every day - except when she has some appointment at the Agency - so she was always around when you were helping the twins with their studies. She has iced tea in the afternoon, and always saves a place for you at breakfast if you schedule a weekend study session. Wanda has tried to go vegetarian eight times in the last few months, three times in the same week, always having to restart the habit because she forgot her own eating commitments. She also loves Sitcoms - this you found out because you went to say goodbye one afternoon, and when you knocked on her office door you found her watching an episode during a business meeting, and she just raised a finger in front of her lips in a request for a secret and you laughed lightly, imitating an oath in front of your chest.

Wanda was also getting divorced.

His name was Jarvis Vision Stark, and although he was apparently a good father, he didn't seem to be such a good husband. He didn't do anything wrong as far as you know, but you concluded that he was no good at being a husband because he was never around, and if someone has the chance to be with Wanda Maximoff and chooses to be somewhere else, that person must have some problem with them.

As far as you can tell, in all those hours you spent with her, falling in love with Wanda was inevitable. If you stayed around her adorably clumsy and inquisitive personality, there was no other way out. She was simply the most charming woman you knew, and these were just the facts.

On Thursdays, the twins had judo class. And this week, the holiday weekend was with Vision. So you scheduled the class for a later time, having enough time to visit your favorite coffee shop and read a book in the afternoon.

Wanda apparently had the same idea.

The whole place suited her very well indeed. You hadn't even entered the shop yet, catching a glimpse of the older woman through the glass window - focused on a book and biting the tip of a pen, her red hair cascading down and making it almost impossible to recognize her. - and swallowing the nervousness that suddenly rose in your stomach, you made your way inside, and while your drink was ready, you built up the courage to approach.

Then of course Wanda got up to throw some writing drafts in the trash at the same moment you appeared behind her.

"Shit! I'm so sorry!" She apologized frantically, her eyes wide as she tried to diminish the stained mess on the front of your shirt with small napkins she grabbed from the table and making you blush more from the touch than from the curious glances from the other customers.

Wanda seemed to get more beautiful every time you looked at her, and her clumsiness got a soft laugh out of you.

"Don't worry, Miss Maximoff, it will dry." You tease, and she sighs but makes a small grimace at the stain on your blouse.

"I told you Wanda was fine." She retorts, quickly throwing the dirty napkins away and turning to grab her belongings. "Come on, I can't look at the mess I've made on such a lovely shirt."

Despite your insistence that there is no problem, you neither resist the gentle tug Wanda gives on your sleeve, nor refuse to accompany her all the way back to her house, where you exchange a few words about sharing a taste for the local coffee, or the tranquility of the environment for reading and writing that shop provides.

You even asked Wanda about switching the office to a place with other people, but she explained that she needed a change of scenery to get inspiration for the last few chapters of a story she was working on as she opened the door and guided you to the laundry room.

"Let's just make sure the stain doesn't stay, honey." She says as she opens the door and you follow her half-heartedly, suddenly realizing that this must be the first time you've been alone with her in her house. Wanda bends down to pick up some cleaning products and places them on the counter before turning her attention back to you. "Can you..."

"Oh, sure." You immediately agree, letting your nerves control your actions, and without much thought, you pull your shirt out in one motion.

Wanda's eyes widen, frozen at the sight of your torso covered only by a sports top. The redness in her face makes yours warm as well.

"I-I was going to suggest the bathroom. And a robe. " She remarks breathlessly, and it's your turn to widen your eyes, but your embarrassment is short-lived, because Wanda clears her throat, and looks down, holding out her hand for you to hand her the item.

She decides to start working on the stain, and you shift the weight of your feet as you watch her, unsure exactly what to do with your hands.

"Thank you for that again, Miss Maximoff. It was nice of you." You mumble trying to fill the tense silence between you, but Wanda gives a short laugh, raising her eyes from the fabric to you.

"Was it nice to knock coffee on you?" She retorts with amusement, and it's your turn to chuckle, scratching behind the back of your neck as the awkward tension dissipates between you.

"It was no big deal, Miss Maximoff."

She makes a small grimace. "Wanda." She insists again, and you notice the way her gaze falls to your cleavage for a micro second and the intensity of her irises makes your legs wobble. You offer her a small smile before repeating.

"Wanda."

She smiles and turns her attention back to your shirt. Not wishing for the awkward silence to return, you try to pull up a subject while she works. And in less than two minutes you are laughing at her stories.

“[...] Monica was so worried about the whole divorce thing, and I just surprised her with almost twelve thousand words about why marriage is humanity's worst invention." She tells it with an easy smile on her lips, which you share.

Monica has been Wanda's agent since she published her first book - a clichéd novel about the unusual love of a witch and a robot - and now, almost ten years later, she was one of the best friends of the redhead in front of you. You didn't know her in person, but you had seen Wanda talking to her by video call and on the phone a few times.

Wanda leaves your wet shirt to dry and mimics your position of leaning your back on the machine with your arms crossed on the opposite side, your feet a few inches away from each other.

"That sounds like a bestseller." You joke, making her laugh softly. She shrugs her shoulders.

"We won't publish it, but it sure helped me get something off my chest." She says half thoughtfully. "I don't know, it's been two weeks since I signed the papers, and I still..." But Wanda shuts up, shaking her head and sighing. "Sorry, I'm babbling. You don't care about that."

"Hey, it's okay." You assure her as gently as you can, adjusting your posture against the cabinet behind you, but resisting the urge to touch her. "You can vent all you want, I don't care. Or rather, I do. About everything you tell me, I mean."

She raises surprised but impressed eyes to you. And you smile, but Wanda raises an eyebrow.

"Are you sure this is professional?" She asks, and you almost feel embarrassed, but a mischievous smile appears on her lips that makes you understand that she is only joking. To your momentary hesitation, she adds, "Listening to your students' mother whine in the laundry room?"

You chuckle slightly at the description, shaking your head a little. "Well, the contract says I'm here to help." You comment, assuming a thoughtful fake expression. "I suppose serving as a liquor depot is my job..."

Wanda grunts guiltily, kicking your foot gently and making you laugh. "Jerk." She grumbles and you shrug.

"And on top of that getting cursed at, such a toxic work environment." You mock, getting a laugh from the redhead who shakes her head in disbelief.

"Shut up." She mutters with her arms crossed, and your laughter gradually ceases, until the noise of the machine is the only sound besides your soft breathing.

You and Wanda look away from your shoes to each other almost at the same time, dancing around the next subject as you exchange little smiles. You clear your throat a moment later, moving your hands to the countertop and squeezing the wood gently.

"So, if it's okay for you, I'll stay around until the boys' class time." You suggest but Wanda isn't even listening. Her gaze lost on your chest, because of course you had to have leaned in like that and she was just staring discourteously, and without any self-control. You let out a confused laugh, "Wanda?"

She turned as red as her hair, looking away so quickly it only made it more obvious what she was doing.

"I-I..." She tried to formulate a line of thought, grimacing at her own disaster, and sighing in frustration. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

You laughed, short and impressed. "My class. With the boys, this afternoon. Is it okay if I wait?"

"Oh, sure. Of course." She agrees nodding and swallows dryly as you cross your arms, an expression of virtual delight at having caught her in the act on your face. She clears her throat, trying to regain her composure. "If you're hungry, I can prepare something for us."

You deny it with a nod. "No way Wanda, you already washed my clothes today. I'm not going to make you cook for me." You comment humorously, but she gestures quickly.

"Don't be ridiculous, it was my fault. And it's no problem at all, let's go make us something, I clearly ruined your afternoon meal." She retorts and is leaving the laundry room so quickly that you have no way of denying it - no idea at all that Wanda needed to get out of such a small space before she did something she could regret.

Wanda was going to try to busy herself with food, but the third time she found your exposed chest as she turned around for some pot or supply, she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Okay, you need a shirt." She stated seeming to speak more to herself than to you, who scratched behind your head awkwardly, looking at her with confusion. "Just wait here, I'll be right back."

She disappears for a few minutes, and you busy yourself with the delicious cookies she left on the counter. Wanda returns with a shirt in hand, and you smile at her mischievously as you are caught eating her treats, making her smile affectionately.

"Worse than children when left alone, I see." She jokes getting a soft chuckle from you as she hands you the shirt. The return dies on your tongue as you slip the fabric over your neck, and the garment smells like Wanda and is at the very least intoxicating. She doesn't seem to notice your hesitation, distracted as she goes back to preparing the snacks she started before you left.

You clear your throat after a moment. "And I noticed these are vegetarian options." You comment approaching her at the counter as she cuts the tomatoes. "Is it for real this time?" You tease.

"Hey!" She giggles, throwing her shoulders against yours lightly. "I'm going to make it this time."

"I know you will, honey. I believe in you every time." You murmur sincerely, and you can't help but let your gaze linger on Wanda, especially as you listen to the soft sigh she lets out and notice the way her fingers tremble at the snack preparation.

You lick your lips, trying to think of something else when Wanda asks you to get the plates and you decide to take your cue before you confess something you might regret.

Soon, you both have vegetarian sandwiches in hand as you stand side by side at the countertop.

"Wanda, I really appreciate the gesture, but this tastes really bad." You declare and she is laughing heartily, throwing her head back and you are following her.

Wanda just takes the disastrous attempt at a vegetarian snack from your hands and throws both items in the trash, before going to the cabinets, and soon returning with a package of snacks.

"Here. Not another word about it." She says as she opens the package between you, the very delicious chips forgotten because you notice an almost sad or disappointed glint pass through her eyes, and you ignore the food to move a finger to her chin, asking her to meet your gaze again. The gesture surprises her a little, making her blush, but she doesn't pull away.

"Hey, it's just a sandwich." You comment, studying her face after whatever she was hiding, and Wanda let outs a humorless chuckle, trying to lower her face, but your touch escalates - your hand moves to her cheek and Wanda almost shudders, using all her mental control not to lean in. "You can talk to me, Wanda."

She swallows dryly, hesitating only for a second, and though she is twiddling her fingers nervously, she confesses without stammering, "It's stupid, but I wanted to prove that I can do it." She murmurs, and to your half-confused but patient expression for her explanation, she continues after a soft sigh. "I had a plan, a bucket list. All the way from high school. Like I said, stupid. Vis thought it was childish. I think I believed him because I gave up on most of them, but then we started fighting and I thought I could try those things again. Then he said I couldn't accomplish any of it because I can't even maintain a marriage, and I guess he must be right because I'm a disaster at that and-"

"Hey, hey, stop it." You cut off seriously, moving your other hand to her left cheek. "Don't talk about yourself like that, it's not true."

She let out a short laugh. "Come on, I just destroyed your favorite shirt."

You raise an eyebrow. "How do you know it's my favorite shirt?" Wanda hesitates, looking away and opening her mouth, but no explanation comes out. You laugh, shaking your head. "God, you're so cute."

Wanda looks at you in surprise, but you stroke her cheeks, and the touch is too good for her to question anything. However, she lowers her gaze and you sigh softly.

"Hey, look at me, Maximoff." You ask and wait for her to obey, offering a small smile when the green orbs return to yours. "You can do anything, Wanda. From writing incredible stories to completing a high school bucket list. Those are just sandwiches, and it was just a drinking accident. It doesn't prove anything about you. And god, I knew there was something very wrong with your ex, only a complete asshole would try to manipulate you like that, or worse, leave someone like you."

You blurt out, and Wanda blinks in surprise.

"Like me?" She insists, and since you've already said too much, you just continue.

"Yeah, someone so incredible, beautiful, and funny. I always have such a great time around you, and it seems so unbelievable that you're getting divorced because if I had the chance I would never leave. I would stay, for all the afternoons when you almost destroyed the printer, or set the kitchen on fire. I can hardly imagine how lucky I must be to wake up next to you every morning, or to spend the day with you, listening to you talk, and laugh, or hear your stories! It feels like a dream, and I don't understand how anyone-"

Wanda cuts you off, suddenly moving forward. You choke on a sigh as her lips press against yours, and it's messy and hungry as if she's afraid of you slipping away.

She moans softly at the feel of your tongue on hers once you kiss her back, but it gets calmer soon after until air is needed and you part with gasping breaths.

"That was even better than I imagined." She confesses with her eyes closed, getting a small laugh from you.

"Did you imagine it often?" You tease, and it's her turn to laugh, opening her eyes at you.

"You have no idea." She assures you before bringing your lips together again.

Making out in the kitchen was definitely not your plan for this afternoon, but you weren't complaining one bit. Not when Wanda felt so fucking good between you and the countertop, the warm, low sighs she let escape between one kiss and the next, the steady hands on your shoulders as yours became bold beneath your blouse.

Wanda's legs firmed around you once you lift her up to sit on the marble, and as you moved your kisses down her jaw and neck, missing her satisfied smile because you both have your eyes tightly closed, your hands wrapped around her covered breasts.

"Oh." She moaned affected, shuddering against you, who just squeezed softly and managed another deep moan as her hips went forward.

It was probably too fast, but neither you nor Wanda seemed very willing to stop, especially since the sensation was so addictive. She pulled your face back, sliding her tongue into your mouth and making your head spin.

You squeezed her breasts hard, swallowing her moans before running one hand down your body, your fingers scratching their way down her pants and working the buttons.

And then a car noise made Wanda push you away.

"Fuck, not now." She grunted annoyed, loosening her legs around you, and climbing down from the countertop. You blinked in confusion, mind clouded with arousal, but the sound of the vehicle parking at the front door and children's voices made you react, and start working on your crumpled clothes as Wanda was doing. She finished wiping off her smudged lipstick a second before the door opened, and two little boys rushed in through the front door.

"Wanda?" It was a male voice, and she tensed beside you before shouting that she was in the kitchen. She turned her face to you, exchanging a quick glance before disappearing into the living room.

You overheard the conversation - strained mutterings that were getting louder until you heard the door and the sounds became muffled again, suggesting that Wanda had gone out onto the balcony with her ex-husband.

Taking your cue, you made your way upstairs, deciding that you were going to give the kids some homework before you left. No chance of you teaching anything after what you just did in the kitchen.

Billy and Tommy were equally surprised and happy to see you, although the excitement died down a bit as soon as you left the homework with them. The boys went back to packing for their holiday with their father, and you said goodbye.

Vision and Wanda were back in the living room when you came downstairs, and it was at least embarrassing the look you received from the man with his arms crossed in the corner of the room.

"Good afternoon, Miss L/N." Greeted the man, and you merely nodded.

"Hey, Mister Stark. Good afternoon." You say, turning your gaze to the redhead who is approaching you. "Wanda, I'll be going." You let her know, surprising her.

"But what about the lesson?"

"I don't want to make the kids late for their trip." You clarify with a small smile. "Besides, I gave them some homework, and we can continue tutoring next week."

Wanda hesitates, not because you are not right, but because she wanted you to stay. It's good that you can see this in the look on her face, because it makes the presence of her angry ex-husband in the room less embarrassing.

"Come on, Wanda, she's right. The boys deserve a little rest on the holiday." Vis comments, but Wanda doesn't give him much more than an impatient look.

"I'll walk you to the door." She says deciding to ignore Vision, and you hesitate but decide not to contradict.

Once outside, you offer her a small smile, "I guess I'll see you next week, Wanda."

But it is Wanda's turn to hesitate before she lets go of the knob and grabs your collar, pulling your face against hers. You grunt softly into the kiss, wrapping her waist around you for a second before she breaks with an affected sigh.

"This is how you say goodbye to me now." She orders and you nod affectedly, resisting the urge to kiss her again. "What are you doing tonight?"

Your mind is a complete blur, especially since Wanda is so beautiful and close and has just kissed you hard in the ajar doorway through which her ex-husband can surely see from the living room, but you mumble softly that you are free. She bites a smile.

"One of my wishes was to have the courage to ask a crush on a date." She confesses in a mixture of shyness and mischief, her lips brushing against yours. "Would you take me out on a date tonight?"

"I-I would love to." You murmur immediately, your chest heated with excitement. Wanda steals one, two, intense kisses that make your heart race and your stomach fill with butterflies.

"I guess you're doing me tonight." She jokes against your lips, making you chuckle affectedly before kissing her again and finally parting. "Hey, eight o'clock. Don't be late."

"I wouldn't dream of it." You assure, stealing one last quick kiss before pulling away to leave.

Anyway, as soon as Vis has left with the boys, Wanda appears at your front door. She brought a bottle of wine that you won't even remember to open, but that should be enough of a date. Besides, you will have other opportunities.

--//--

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #marvel imagines

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cloudyswritings · 2 months

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Slugcat Ocs P2

The Matriarch: You are the Matriarch , an old slugcat by anyone’s standards, but one who’s led their tribe through some of the harshest times imaginable. You seek to make one final push and take back the city atop Dreaming Deeply from the predators, scavengers, and defense sentries so your people can live without fear of the rain. Bring your tribe into war and train a successor in the chance you don’t make it.

Goal: retake the Sleepless City and bring prosperity to your tribe. Additionally teach your successor everything they need to be a better leader than even you were.

Starting area: The Fairweather Plains, a massive sprawling plain tormented by nearly constant rains, your tribe has made a living underground in this place, but you wish to live amongst the clouds once more.

Color: Pale orange with many many scars. You need very little food for a slugcat and even in your old age stand far taller than those around you, tall enough in fact to scare off smaller predators.

Other: You may be able to convince the iterator to join your side and turn the cities defenses against those inhabiting it currently.

The Mariner: You are the Mariner, a purposed organism created by Built Slightly Sideways and tasked with repairing a leak of void fluid in her intake system at the bottom of the lake as well as reinforcing the crumbling rock shelf on which she sits. It’s quite the large task for such a small being. None will thank you for your duty, not your sacrifice, but it must be done nonetheless. Keep your eyes peeled and your tail ready, things are not as they seem in the deep and the waters teem with hungry mouths.

Goal: repair the damage to BSS’ structure and return to her with the good news.

Starting area: The Shallows, a teaming freshwater coral reef dense with sponges and other filterfeeders. Predators here are few and far between, but be thoughtful when sliding into gaps between the coral as Coiling Venipedes are always waiting for another foolish morsel.

Colors: Black and white counter shading, you have water breathing abilities greater than even the rivulet, however you are well and truly a creature of the water and as such leaving the lake for too long will see you dehydrate and eventually die. You’ve been cybernetically augmented with all of the tools you’ll need to fix BSS, including a plasma cutter that can be used to melt through tough metal doors.

Other: you have the ability to send out a sonar ping that highlights the outlines of creatures and structures within a certain radius, this is especially helpful in the deepest darkest reaches of the lake.

The Stray: You are the Stray, you have been following a trail of memories that are both yours and not, they’ve lead you through many dangerous lands and most recently to the base of an Iterators(Applied Blasphemy) structure. Something about it feels familiar to you and your memories tell you to seek out the being inside of it. Follow your fractured thoughts and reunite with a very very old friend.

Goal: Piece together exactly who you once were and have one last conversation with your old friend. Additionally Applied Blasphemy may send you out on some errands, it’s only fair that you pull your weight if you insist on living in their can.

Starting area: Left Leg, one of the main supports of Applied Blasphemy and the one most in need of repairs, you’ve been hibernating in a den inside the leg. Something about this space seems familiar to you.

Color: Gray with lighter gray stripes and the traditional tabby m on your forehead. You’re smaller than most slugcats and can fit into gaps others cannot. Additionally you can somehow read pearls and ancient texts without help, how interesting.

The Botanist : It’s said that in places with high karmic imbalance fauna and flora twist into strange new forms. Of course you care little for the fauna, but the flora… well that merits careful exploration. And perhaps taste testing. Regardless you’ll be sure to bring samples back to your tribe, maybe you’ll even be able to find something to heal your wounded leader.

Goal: you’ve ventured far and farther in search of a cure to the wounds the leader of your tribe sustained defending her people. Your goal is to gather karma flowers and to find the fabled void fruit while avoiding predators and perhaps learning about the history of the land on which you stand.

Starting area: the Hazy spire, this area is just outside of the rains of Speaks Through the Clouds. This area is marked by chilling fogs that make seeing things far away a struggle and provide predators ample hiding places. The ground is slippery and blanketed in dense clumps of moss. In this campaign you’d be exploring the areas around STC and likely venturing into his structure and city .

Color: a dark green slugcat with small white flowers in their fur that bloom when predators are near.

Other: there’s a small chance that during your cycles playing this cat you might wake up at night and be forced to contend with a very different world. Strange beings lurk in the night, but even stranger plants bloom then. You can also craft potions/remedies with various effects from plant parts you store in your satchel, these effects can range from a strong stench that deters lizards to making yourself temporarily poisonous enough that a vulture would drop you, to increased health and movement speed for the cycle at the cost of being tired the next cycle.

#rw slugcat #slugcats #rw #rw headcanons #rw iterator #my headcanons

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cosmica-galaxy · 6 months

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Primal Titan Reaction from everyone?

Camron lens is WIDE in response to seeing the human as BIG AS A TITAN. His core could be felt ticking faster and heating up...and he swoons when the human picks up a large skibidi and YEETS them across the city. DJ is stunned and can't help but cheer the human on as they pick up one of those large buzzsaw units in their hand and crush them mercilessly. The human was as big as a building and they were ready to tangle with those skibidi menaces! GO GET THEM, HUMAN!!! Vee can't even hide his own surprise when the human themselves rise up from the dust cloud that erupted after the large tread-based skibidi was suddenly thrown back from the unit division, revealing themselves in an enraged state. He was displaying a clear shocked emoticon in response to the human picking up the camera titan's hammer and approaching the skibidi units with no hesitation...it was...beyond thrilling to watch. The mimics are all taken off guard from the sheer amount of energy they felt at that moment, but what they weren't expecting was for the large skibidi that was threatening to run over the unit division to be thrown back forcefully. Then the moment the large human emerged as the size of a titan, they were all shook and stunned at the sight. Their human friend was now as big as a large building and their anger toward the skibidis just fueled the mimics into a cheering mass. GO GET THEM! KILL THEM ALL! The Drill faction was shocked from the sudden emergence of another titan. This one being their human friend that they met not too long ago! They were all having issues with these weaponized magnets that the skibidi were utilizing...but now there was a titan that approached the enemy in an unaffected state. Relentlessly dogging the magnet wielders and dispatching them with sheer force and aggression. The drills even found themselves cheering the human-turned-titan on as they rip and tear their enemies mercilessly. What a show! The Clock faction was REALLY struggling with the magnets and it impeded on their abilities to help the alliance with their own struggles...until a massive eruption suddenly happens, making them all look towards the source and seeing the human that had suddenly become titan sized! They can only watch and look on as they point to the skibidi in question and drag their thumb over their throat, a very clear visual of their intentions. Before they charged and smacked the magnet skibidi over the head with a borrowed hammer. The crunch made the clock units wince, but it was so enthralling to watch the human, one who was usually weaker than most units, rip and tear at the enemy relentlessly. It was thrilling to watch! Good show, human!! The matriarchs and brave bros can only watch in shock and awe as the human grows from a normal size to titan size, growling and snarling at the enemy skibidis in defiance. Before they run their thumb over their neck in a promise of murder. Then, the fight was on and the human swung their borrowed hammer into any skibidi that dared stand in their way of their objective. Throwing them to the ground, stomping on smaller units, and ripping off any metal limbs they could grab. It made the leaders all respectively jealous and awestruck at the same time. Who knew the human was capable of such abilities!?

#askthesmoltitans #I SAW PRIMAL TITAN AND MY BRAIN ACTIVATED #haxorus imp #hax speaks #cosmica galaxy #cosmica-galaxy #skibidi tag #skibidi mimic #skibidi toilet mimic

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rarilee33 · 11 months

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more Moral Orel headcanons

these are mostly Bloberta/Hymentacts related and were conceived in drafting the story that I'm working on. More info on that when I get further.

Eye colours: Clay has brown eyes, so does Orel but Orel's are more hazel; Bloberta's are blue, and Shapey's are grey-green

2. Bloberta is a few years (like 3) younger than Clay. Her sister Modella is three years older than her and her brother Lunchbox is six years younger. 3. Mrs Hymentact's name is Regina (proud of this one lol) because we know Bloberta's dad's name is Raymond. Clay's parents' names both start with A, Angela and Arthur. Regina makes sense, both R names and since it means 'queen' and she is clearly the matriarch.

4. That piano in the Hymentacts' living room- only Bloberta's mother, Regina, had jurisdiction over lifting the plastic cover on it.

4,5. One time Regina invited Bloberta to participate in the choir and she was ecstatic, but Regina just wanted her to play the piano for accompaniment and this made Bloberta feel invisible, to be sat behind the piano at church while her family sang in front of everyone. So that didn't last long.

5. In the first few years of her being married to Clay, Bloberta would meet with her father in town (usually at the pub), to just talk, but that fell off- mostly, Regina wasn't a big fan of the almost clandestine meetings and would rather Bloberta do things 'properly' and invite both her parents to the Puppington's house for dinner and to meet her husband and son.

6. Most of Bloberta's clothes are hand-me-downs from Modella.

7. While Bloberta likes rock and metal music, Modella is more into pop songs, as well as classical pieces. Bloberta was a teenager in the eighties and so listened to a lot of artists from that era, like the Cure, Judas Priest, Cinderella, etc, while Modella was into Madonna and Blondie and such, maybe Cyndi Lauper. They both had Walkmans. Bloberta had to mostly hide her music tastes from Regina who wouldn't approve. This is somewhat a plot point in my story but has more context there.

8. When Bloberta was 15 the Hymentacts took a trip to Manhattan for some choir related excursion. They took Bloberta since it was such a big trip. It was her first time on an airplane and all; she felt in awe at seeing the city skyline and then all the buildings, all this life, around them, as they emerged from the Lincoln tunnel.

On the trip she either trailed behind or just interacted with Raymond- Regina was more occupied with Modella (18) and Lunchbox (9). She wondered if Regina would even notice if she suddenly got lost... still, Bloberta has some nice memories of being there, seeing the Radio City Music Hall and other iconic buildings and nothing like she'd seen before. Modella had a camera to document the trip, and Bloberta wished she did, too, but she couldn't afford one and didn't want to ask.

If you have any questions feel free to ask and I will elaborate!!

@medievalcat

#moral orel #bloberta puppington #clay puppington #orel puppington #shapey puppington #headcanons #moral orel headcanons #modella hymentact #lunchbox hymentact #raymond hymentact #mrs hymentact

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wilcze-kudly · 2 months

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Based on your anons asks, I have an ask for you! Here are three characters, I want them to do a graphic novel or comic of.

Suyin’s journey from a bratty teenager to a matriarch of the Metal Clan Leader, Wife. Mother & Collector of the rare meteorites.

2. A comic of an adult Ty Lee, Mai, and Suki. (Along with seeing Suki working together with the kyoshi warriors protecting Republic City or another city from terrorists, along with her being an aunt figure to Bumi II).

3. Katara, Kya II, Sokka and Bumi II adventures (since Aang was always busy and passing his culture to Tenzin) in Republic City and the South Pole.

4. A comic of how Su met Aiwei (but is unaware of his true nature)

5. A comic of Hiroshi’s time in prison. It starts off with him still a prejudice hater of benders, but slowly learns the error of his ways.

DO YOU LIKE IT! WHICH IDEA DO YOU FIND MORE FUN AND INTERESTING!

Ooh, those are all amazing ideas! I'd personally love to see a comic of Su and Aiwei meeting and becoming friends. I'd just wanna learn about Aiwei lol

#aiwei #suyin beifong

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wellthebardsdead · 1 year

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Clockwork heart pt1

Thank you to @quicksilverdrabbles for inspiring me to colour the gynoid text.

———

*deep in the bowels of the clockwork city, a corpse once flesh made metal hangs dormant in the lifeless wires of the now stagnant creation, a once living god now dead*

“I…ran out of time…”

*soft cracking ringing out through the silence and dust filled musty air as the corpse begins to slip from its wires*

“Neht is alive… he came back as I predicted… I tried to warn the others…”

*creaking as gears once still for hundreds of years begin to move once again*

“But they didn’t listen…”

*rattling of pipes as water begins to flow through them once more and a loud whirring rumbles throughout the heart of the city as life begins to return to the brass and steam*

“I made this realm as a gift to those I left behind… but I could not finish it”

*clanging as the corpse crumbles from its suspended position and turns to dust as it makes impact with the floor, a pile of bones, ash and metal clumped and scattered around a soft, fragile mass as it takes shape from the remnants of the past*

“And I ask you to forgive me little one… I leave this task to you…”

*geers turning rapidly as the door to the main chamber open, and a dwemer gynoid enters, body ridged and stiff in movement, clicking and sparking as it approaches the remnants of the clockwork god with only one objective programmed in mind, bring the child to life on the surface*

“Good luck… Little Seht…”

The gynoid: *halts hearing the cries of a baby in its audio receptors, strong and new as the living god returns to flesh. A child born with only one arm, the other lost at the shoulder, and only one eye, the other never formed, but a voice powerful and strong bellowing out so loudly it could be heard over the rumbling and whirring of the city as it returned to life* Lord Seht. Our lord has returned. Praise to the tribunal. Praise to house Sotha. *creaks as it bends over and picks up the baby, his fragile little body coated in ash and already freezing from the cold damp chamber* I will complete my task. Lord sotha sil. *carries the baby from the chamber, it’s metal cold against his skin and it’s gears and joints pinching and pulling at him cruelly as it moves with haste, seemingly desperate to complete its task before it falls to pieces*

*a few hours later in the dark of night*

The Gynoid: *clanking about through the city of Mournhold, amazingly unnoticed by the guards as metal plating falls loose and bolts begin to pop off, rusted from years of misuse. It’s arm hanging dangerously loose as it lays the baby down in front of the gates to the first building it sees, the temple* T-taask c-completed… *reaches into its chest cavity and removing a book, placing it with the baby* g-good- byyyye-e errrrrr *crumples into a heap with a loud clang, alerting the guards if the screaming baby hadn’t already done so too*

*6 years later in the city of Necrom, the vibrant white streets giving way to the dull and gloomy slums, filled with those left behind by those who died. Widows too poor to leave the city after burying their beloved ones. Those unable to afford the ceremonies they wish for their deceased and are left toiling away to pay off their debts. And the children left orphaned by the deaths of their parents… or simply… never having any at all*

Wyrm: *now a little elf boy of 6, dressed in a tattered piece of fabric with a rope around his waist, quietly seated outside the orphanage holding his book close and waiting, hoping for somebody to come by, not even noticing or caring about the guttersnipes stealing his ‘food’ as he keeps his one eye peeled on the streets* …

???: Oh what about that one?

???: What the one with one arm? What use will he be. He can’t haul in a line with only one.

Orphanage Matriarch: Wyrm?? Oh no. Unless you can teach him to read that damned book of his he’ll have no interest in you. If you can’t the ungreatful brat will throw a tantrum so violent if you try to take him you’ll be begging me to take him back.

Wyrm: *looks up to see the couple who’d arrived earlier staring at him, along with the orphanage matriarch* … *gets up and quietly shifts away hiding behind a crate fearing a beating if he stays in the way any longer* …

Orphanage Matriarch: Ugly little creature. We have some much more desirable little ones inside though if you’re looking for someone more robust for fishing though! *leads them inside*

Wyrm: *sniffles tearing up and hugging his book close* not ugly…

???: hey there little guy…

Wyrm: *looks up in a fright to see a handsome dunmer standing in front of him, soft cloud like white hair, eyes the most unusual colour of sky blue, and grey skin covered in splotches of gold, almost matching the shimmer of his armour* … *stands up sheepishly and steps closer*

Nerevar: well you’re a lot braver than you look! I’m Nerevar, what’s your name buddy?… are you hungry?… *holds out an apple to him*

Wyrm: I-I am Wyrm. *steps forward ignoring the food and nervously holds up his book* y-you teach me to read?…

Nerevar: *looking at his feeble little frame and then at the book in confusion* I- yes I’ll teach you, I-

???: I leave you alone for five minutes and you run off to-

Nerevar: Voryn can we adopt this one? He’s-

Voryn: *all three eyes locked onto the child, seeing the face of sotha sil that hell one day grow into* I- *clutches his chest and head in pain as the doom drum thrums loudly in his mind and his body seizes as if having a heart attack*

Nerevar: Ryn?!

Orphanage Matriarch: *steps outside to see Indoril Nerevar and Voryn Dagoth at her door, and her problem child holding up his book to them as Voryn seemingly recoils in pain* WYRM!

Wyrm: *jumps and suddenly runs for it, not wanting the beating he knows is coming*

Nerevar: *looks up to see the child fleeing* WAIT! NO COME BACK!

Voryn: *gasping for air as guards arrive hearing the commotion* S-Stop that boy!!

*meanwhile*

Wyrm: *running through the city, dashing through store fronts and tumbling over peoples feet, knocking over bolts of silk and smashing a priceless burial urn to pieces but not slowing down, even as people reach for him he dives out of the way and soon finds himself out of the city gates and at the docks panicking as he searches for a place to hide* n-no-no-no-am in trouble am not safe- *looks around before spotting a barrel with its lid askew* Ah- *hurries over and peers In to find it filled with apples but empty enough for him to squeeze inside* good- *looks up seeing ordinators run by followed by the pretty dunmer and the one he made hurt* oh no no- *climbs in and closes the lid, hugging his book tight with his crouched body and sucking his thumb, a habit he never kicked… only to nearly bite it clean off as he holds back a startled cry as the barrel is suddenly jostled about, lifted up, and carried onto the deck of a ship* …

*a few weeks later as the ship docks in windhelm*

Captain: *dragging Wyrm by his hair and throwing the little boy onto the frozen stone of the docks* Worthless s’wit! Off with you! *throws his book at him hitting the boy in the head*

Wyrm: *sniffles and stands up, whole body trembling from the cold, from fear, from pain. Just cries softly as he picks up his book and shuffles into the city, no other instincts available to his terrified mind beyond ask for someone to teach him, not for food, or for shelter, or for a mother or father, just a teacher, like his need to learn was greater than surviving* m-mr-? Y-you teach me?

Guard: *looks down at him not understanding dunmeri* get lost kid. Go back to the grey quarter and annoy your own kind.

Wyrm: *not understanding him either but understanding the boot to his side well enough* o-ow- *sniffles and shuffles away from him, his bare feet sticking and freezing to the cold stone as he moves along into the city, finding equally poor luck there too from both human and elf alike* s-someone?? Help me?… *looks around holding up his book as people walk by ignoring him* help me?…

*a few hours later*

Wyrm: *whole body trembling violently from the cold and too many big emotions as he walks across the snowy bridge and to the stables thinking someone might be able to help him there before tugging on the stable hands shirt* m-mr?… h-help me? *shakily holds up his book getting ready to be hit again*

Ulundil: *a kindly young Altmer, understands some dunmeri* hm? Oh, no sorry kid, I-I don’t know how to read your language.

Wyrm: *nods and looks down sadly* okay…

Ulundil: where are your parents kid? Aren’t you cold?

Wyrm: no parents… nobody… only Wyrm… *turns and walks off into the snow towards Kynesgrove*

Ulundil: I- *looks up to see the khajiit traders packing up their caravans* I- Kid wait! Come back!! *hurries over and picks him up before hurrying to the khajiit and handing them a bag of gold* I know it’s not a lot but he’s not going to survive on his own. Please he wants to know how to read just take him to winterhold? Or somewhere warm? He’ll have a chance there.

Khajiit Traders: *looks at him, then at the scrawny boy before nodding and taking Wyrm into their fold, wrapping him in furs and placing him in the caravan*

*a few days later*

Wyrm: *still filthy and dressed in rags, but left with a full belly and a warm blanket and shoes as he shuffles through the snow of winterhold, hoping from his brief encounter with kindness he’d find luck yet again… only to be pushed over into the snow by a much larger, meaner nord boy*

Young soon to be father of Korir: *kicks him while he’s down and grabs his book laughing as the smaller elf breaks out into wailing sobs* that’s what you get elf! That’s what you get for coming to skyrim! You ugly knife ears only make things worse! My homes gone because of you! My families dead because of you and that stupid co- *freezes as the book is yanked from his hands* … *looks up and literally pisses himself seeing the tusks of a very angry, young Urag glaring down at him*

Urag: Apologise. Boy.

Young Father of Korir: I-I’m s-s-sorry sir- I’m sorry! *runs off crying in terror*

Urag: *glares at him as he leaves before looking down to see Wyrm now on his feet, tears freezing to his face as he sobs and reaches for his book* here pup… *hands it to him and turns to leave only to feel a small hand tugging on his robe*

Wyrm: *using the little imperial he knows from speaking to the khajiit* y-you teach?… me?… p-please?…

Urag: *looks at him, then at the book again* … you want to learn?…

Wyrm: *nods sobbing as he steps closer* teach? Me? Yes?

Urag: *takes in the boys fragile little body, bones showing through his bruised frost bitten dark grey skin, one arm missing entirely as was an eye* … *gently picks him up wrapping him in his cloak* okay… I’ll teach you pup… what’s your name?…

Wyrm: *grips onto him with his little hand, feeling safe for the first time in this strange land* w-Wyrm. I am Wyrm.

Urag: that’s an odd name… but if it’s what you want… then so be it. *pats his hair* Hello Wyrm… it’s nice to meet you…

#Wyrm dragonborn #sotha sil #dunmer dragonborn #urag gro shub #skyrim

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radioactivepeasant · 11 months

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Fic Prompts: Snippet Monday

Some weeks ago, @sparguscityangel and I were discussing the world map in Jak 2, and it occurred to me that at least one character refers to the northeastern area of the main continent as The Wasteland as well as the island to the west. And in the Jak and Daxter franchise, plot holes are just writer worldbuilding opportunities. So we started tossing around the idea of there being two or three separate communities of Wastelanders, all in different environments, because "wasteland" doesn't automatically mean "desert". And we thought "maybe they're all loosely affiliated and the leaders of the clans meet up every once in a while". For context, my idea of the other clans was Longstump Clan, down where the swamp used to be in TPL, and Foothills Clan, which lives around what used to be the Spider Caves and the base of Snowy Mountain. All this then got incorporated into Adopted Dadmas au with a pinch of Spy Tess. (That bit comes tomorrow)

"Fine young gun you've got there, Wolf."

The chief of the Longstump settlement took a drag on his intricately carved pipe and nodded to where Jak was climbing up one of the old pillars to watch for Marauder activity below. The old man snorted as the boy turned an unnecessarily elaborate flip to make it to the top.

"What is he now, eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Sixteen, by count of his last physical," Damas answered, sparing the boy a glance. A faint smile tugged at his cheek. "Sixteen, impudent, and always climbing, that one."

Sal puffed out a smoky chuckle. "No wonder the Foothills band likes him."

He leaned back and shook out the soft hide vest and tunic common to the inland Wastelanders, rattling with wooden beads and Precursor metal. His hands were wrinkled, and his face creased; Sal was old enough to be Damas’s father, but his hair was the same deep teak it was in his youth, tied back in neat plaits.

"At the rate he's going, he'll have no trouble when it's time for his Proving," Sal observed.

"Hm."

The Proving. That was what the Wastelanders of Longstump called the trials to usher newcomers into their ranks: a three day test of strength against metalheads in the basin, with an amulet awarded for each day survived.

The Foothill Wastelanders called their test Running the Spire. Young warriors or outsiders wishing to join had to race up a dangerous trail on the border of the Marauder homelands, without being caught by Marauders or dangerous wildlife, and infiltrate Snowy Mountain to bring back a piece of Marauder armor.

By comparison, the Arena was a far more controlled environment, with more rules. There was a strange irony in that.

Damas couldn't have said why the swell of pride he felt was so overwhelmingly strong, but he didn't bother to hide it.

"Jak has already passed the first two trials of his Proving," he corrected the Longstump chief with a full smile.

"I predict that before winter, he will join the warriors' councils as an equal."

Sal took another puff of his pipe and shook his head in wonder. "Two amulets and he's sixteen. Shee-oo! You dune-wolves don't do anything by halves, do you? You must be so proud."

Damas looked up. "I am," he murmured, smiling.

From the top of the pillar, Jak seemed to feel his stare. He looked down and made a questioning face. Damas snorted and signed up at him, "No moncaw-business! I'm not stealing light eco from the temple if you fall down and break both your arms!"

Sal laughed out loud beside him. "Ah! I remember telling my daughters that all the time!"

Yvelle, matriarch of the Foothills Clan finally looked up from the trade agreements the three had been exchanging. "Sometimes you just have to let them learn the hard way," she offered.

Damas made a face. "Can't. He convinced an Oracle in Haven city to teach him how to battle-shift -- like the Sages used to in the history books -- and now half the time he just regenerates whatever damage he's done to himself. I tell you, if my hair wasn't already white..."

"Your boy is a War Sage?" Sal sputtered, choking on smoke.

Yvelle's eyes glittered with interest. "No wonder he's half done with his Proving already. Hey, if you need a break, just send him up to the Caves. We'll tire him out."

"In your dreams, Yvelle," Damas scoffed. "Get your own kid: Jak's mine!"

"Worth a shot," the woman joked. "But seriously, my Lurker Wastelanders are asking about taking back their ancestral city in Frosthold. Loooooot of Marauders up there. We could use a War Sage."

Damas leaned back and searched the sky for a moment before his eyes landed on the Day-Star. He frowned. "Let's deal with subverting the apocalypse first. Then we'll see how far I'm willing to let my boy travel unaccompanied."

Of course, Jak would likely have all three amulets by then, and thus be considered old enough to go where he wanted. But Damas wasn't fond of the idea. He'd lost one son, why tempt fate by letting another wander far from home without supervision?

#jak and daxter #fic prompts #writing prompts #snippet monday #adopted dadmas #wastelander ocs #jak and daxter ocs #Sal has four daughters in their twenties and thirties and he's very well versed in Teen Wastelander Nonsense #Yvelle has no children because she'd rather be Bad Influence Auntie to everyone #dadmas #king damas #damas has only recently adopted jak but he's absolutely going to make his peers think he raised jak from childhood #jak plays along because he's never had a dad before and he's loving it #part two to follow tuesday #during the whole meeting dax is having the time of his life ruling the cook tent with an iron fist #spot the Horizon Zero Dawn reference 😉#the Longstump and Foothills Wastelanders have elements loosely inspired by the HZD Nora and Banuk #adopted dadmas au

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randomwritingguy · 1 year

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The Myth of Y/N (Korra x Reader) Part 25

CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD

Korra’s POV

The slam of the door echoes across the dining room followed by an intense silence. No-one says anything for a few seconds.

I turn to Suyin, giving her a sympathy gaze. “I am so sorry for that. That was uncalled for.”

“Apology accepted!” Varrick replies, voice loud and booming. “Now, if you all don’t mind, I’m going to dive right in. I’m famished!”

Ignoring the businessman, I continue staring at Suyin. The anger that was present within her eyes has now diminished.

“Is your friend normally like that?” She eventually asks, voice now calm and controlled.

I shake my head. “No. They aren’t.”

Looking back at the now closed door, I narrow my eyes in deep concentration.

Where did all of that come from? What was Y/N’s problem? Suyin has been nothing but kind to us! What they said about her was just mean! What’s gotten into them?

Ever since we’ve left Air Temple Island, Y/N has been acting…off. Something’s bothering them. I’ve been so busy on finding the airbenders that I’ve neglected my best friend’s feelings. Still, that’s no excuse to treat Suyin like that.

Sighing heavily, I turn back to my food. “I’ll have a word with them later when they’ve cooled off.”

“Make sure you do.” The matriarch replies, also turning her attention back to her food.

I still stare at my food, untouched for the past few minutes.

First Lin. Now Y/N?

Can things get any worse?

Y/N’S POV

I storm through the corridors of the maze-like building, hoping to find a way out of this obnoxious place. My fiery rage from my debate with the matriarch still goes strong. If anything, the anger is amplifying.

Each step I take, the flames within grow. Each step I take, the dragon’s voice at the back at my mind becomes louder and louder and louder.

Suyin is corrupt. Just like the Earth Queen. Just like Tarrlok and most of the Republic City Council were. They are all the same.

No, stop it.

Stop denying. You know it’s true. Suyin puts on a noble façade with a fake smile, but she is just as bad. Maybe even worse.

No! Tarrlok and most of the City Council treated all non-benders like they were Equalists! The Earth Queen rules with an iron fist and treats her people like they’re objects! Suyin doesn’t do that!

Suyin’s methods are different, but her rule is the same tiresome, infuriating theme as theirs. Arrogant, self-absorbed egomaniacs who attempt to make their vision a reality whether the public like it or not. Tarrlok tried to be Republic City’s saviour and ended up as bad as his father, but he never sugar-coated his actions. He accepted them for what they were. The Earth Queen doesn’t hide her true self either. She is what she is and she’s proud of it. But Suyin? Either she’s oblivious and painfully unaware of who she really is or she’s lying to herself. She hides her true self. She phrases her actions as kindness and honourable. That is why she’s worse.

I said stop!

Suyin has the majority wrapped around her little finger.

Her family.

Her city.

Asami.

Bolin.

Mako.

Korra-

STOP!

The intrusive thoughts, the dragon, goes dead silent.

I slow down my steps, the door to the outside in my vision.

Suyin is flawed, hypocritical, and arrogant, but she isn’t as bad as the others. She’s trying to bring a positive force. She leads a beautiful city and has an amazing family. She’s flawed, not evil. Flawed, not evil. Flawed, not evil.

This time, the dragon is dead silent.

Good.

The anger, while still present, has diminished slightly.

I just need some fresh air. Yeah, some fresh air. Maybe I can leave the city and explore one of the nearby mountains. Go and walk around the natural environments. Yeah, that will be nice. Calm. Peaceful and relaxing. When, I’m done I will go to bed. Yeah, that sounds nice.

Taking a deep, long, breath and releasing it in a soothing exhale I open the doors, expecting to see the starry night sky…

Only to see metal surrounding the sky!

WHAT?!

Domes surround the city when its night?!

DAMMIT!

“UGH!” I groan loudly, throwing my arms into the air. “I can’t even look at the stars now?!”

First no secrets at all, then not allowing Opal to leave, then Varrick, and now I can’t even see the night sky?!

I march around the area, not really paying any attention to my surroundings, until I eventually reach to some sort of metal bench. Sitting down with a loud huff, I bury my face into my palms and rub them against my features rapidly.

I thought getting airbending was a dream come true. In my early childhood I longed to have bending. Now I get what my toddler-self wished for and everything goes downhill. First, my parents. Then, the Earth Queen and her corruption. Then this Zaheer and a bunch of criminals. Now this.

What’s worse is none of my friends even seem to care. Not even Korra, my best friend. Sure, we haven’t always seen eye to eye but our differences in our beliefs haven’t always been this stark.

There’s got to be someone who gets what I’m saying, right?

“Excuse me, are you all right?”

I whip my head upwards and see on of the Zaofu guards standing before me. She’s wearing big metal plates covering her form, her helmet with three dagger-like spikes on it covering most of her head. However, I notice her grass pupils and a tiny black mole underneath her right eye.

“Uh, yeah.” I tell her, dropping my hands back onto my knees. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The expression on the guard’s face doesn’t change in the slightest. “Do you wish to be escorted back to the dining room of the Beifong Household?”

“No!” I rush out, causing the guard to jump back slightly in surprise. I regain my composure and respond in a more controlled manner. “No, I’m fine. That is the last thing I want to go right now.”

This time, I see a flash of curiosity painted across the guard’s face. “Is there a problem?”

I sigh. “To be blunt, I had an argument with your matriarch.”

Her expression, again, changes very little. All I see is a slight frown. “I see.”

Shit, did I make her mad? Oh, who am I kidding? Suyin is the city’s leader! Of course, her guards are going to be mad!

Rising from my bench and dusting off my clothes, I face the guard. “I hope I didn’t intrude or disturb you from your duties. I just wanted to have some fresh air but, much to my disappointment, I was greeted by the metal domes.”

“I understand your frustration.” She sympathises, her tone having no trace of anger or annoyance from my earlier comments. “However, they are a vital addition to the security of Zaofu. It helps keep the public protected.”

“Yes, of course.” I reply. “Suyin called it the safest city in the world. However, I fear she has sacrificed some freedom for maximum security.” Knowing who I am talking to, I raise my hands in an apologetic gesture. “Not to discredit your job and your effectiveness, I’m sure you and the rest of the guards are great, but surely you can understand what I’m saying, right?”

The guard doesn’t respond for a moment, her face neutral. I can almost hear the cogs turning in her head.

“I do.” She finally says. “However, I believe that it is necessary. Without that protection, our freedom can easily be taken away.”

Hm. An interesting perspective.

I nod in understanding. “I get that. Still, I just find it frustrating. Doesn’t help that Varrick is here.”

As soon as the name of the businessman leaves my lips, I notice it. A flicker of irritation in the guard’s pupils.

“The…inventor, right?” she asks, voice gruff.

I hum in confirmation. “After all the shit he’s done, he gets away with it all and ends up living the life here. It’s a misuse of justice. That’s what my argument with Suyin was about. She wouldn’t hear any of it. Even my friends wouldn’t listen. Not a single person agreed with me. It’s frustrating!”

Finishing my rant, I notice the guard staring at me with…curiosity? Familiarity? Something else entirely?

I let out a tense breath, scratching the back of my head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant to you. I’ll leave you back to your duties.”

“I agree.”

Huh?

I whip back to the guard. Her face is once again neutral.

“I’m sorry?”

“I agree with you.”

“Oh…”

I open my mouth but close it again having failed to find my words. After a quick swallow, I speak up once more with confusion. “I…I was under the impression you would have sided with your matriarch.”

Then, much to my surprise, a pretty smirk forms on her lips. “I may be Suyin’s guard, but I don’t believe in everything she does. I am a person, after all.”

Oh…well, that’s true.

Chuckling with a sheepish smile, I cross my arms together. “I guess so. And who is the person I am talking to?

Her smirk widens slightly, and she stretches out her hand.

“Kuvira.”

I take her hand.

“Y/N.”

“I know. Suyin had me do a background check on you and your friends.”

“Oh…yeah. Forgot about that.”

She chuckles. It’s nice.

When the handshake ends, I gaze back at the buildings at the edge of the dome.

“I should probably head to bed.” I tell her. I gaze back Kuvira and give her a small smile. “It was nice meeting you. It’s refreshing to find a like-minded individual.”

Kuvira smiles in return. “The feeling is mutual. Perhaps, we could meet again the following day?”

My eyebrows perk up in surprise. She wants to hang out? Well, it will be better than dealing with awkwardness with me and the others whilst meeting a new friend. Plus, maybe I can get to learn more about Zaofu.

“Sure!” I tell her. “Where and when?”

“Here at nine?”

“An early bird, huh?”

“That is required when you have a job like mine.”

“Indeed. See you at nine, Kuvira.”

“And I you, Y/N.”

We exchange goodbyes and, just like that, we head our separate ways. Kuvira is probably going back on her patrol whilst I walk to my guest room.

At least one good thing came out of tonight.

That good mood didn’t last long, though. Soon after I return to my room, I am interrupted with some pounding knocks.

“Y/N, we need to talk.”

Shit. It’s Korra.

Sighing heavily, I slowly but surely walk up to the door and open it and in front of me I see a very pissed Korra.

“That was out of order, Y/N. What in the spirits were you thinking?!”

Frowning slightly, I cross my arms. “What I was thinking was giving Suyin some rightfully deserved criticism. It’s about time someone gave her the harsh reality.”

My response only seems to anger Korra who places a hand on her hips. “What you did was humiliate her in front of her family. She was trying to do something good, and you threw it in her face.”

Something good? Seriously?!

“You’re telling me after everything Varrick has done you are okay with him escaping punishment?” I ask her. “You were there when he bombed the Southern Water Tribe Cultural Center. So many people could have been hurt!”

The features of my best friend’s face softens slightly. “I was confused initially and I see where you’re coming from. But Suyin is trying to better Varrick and Zaofu by-“

“-Don’t give me that!” I interrupt, throwing my arms up in the air. “She’s doing it for herself.”

The softness on Korra’s face hardens once more. “Varrick is leading her technology division that can benefit the city and its people.”

“Which will benefit Suyin and her reputation.” I counter smoothly. “I see through her act.”

“You think too lowly of her.”

“And you think too highly of her.”

We both go dead silent for an intense moment. The air is thick and suffocating.

I let out a deep and heavy breathe, rubbing my hair with my palm. “I don’t want to end our night in a fight.”

Korra’s face softens once more and her gaze casts downward. “Me neither. Things are already awkward with Lin and Suyin. I don’t want things to be awkward between us too.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out yet another sigh. “Look, I won’t apologise to Suyin. I think she deserved it. However, I’ll try to tolerate her while we’re still in Zaofu. For you.”

Looking back up, I see Korra nod slowly and a tiny smile form on her lips. “Okay. Thank you.”

I smile back. “Don’t mention it. Have a good night, Korra.”

“You too, Y/N.”

Closing the door, I lean backwards on the door with the back of my head pressed against it, revealed that the moment is over. I can still feel the bittersweetness of the departure.

Let’s hope tomorrow is better.

TIME SKIP

I stand in the same place as the night before, five minutes before nine. I make sure to got up early to avoid any awkward meetings. I haven’t spoken to the others else since Korra and I don’t particularly want to join them at breakfast. Despite telling her that I’ll try to tolerate Suyin, I still fear that she will somehow get a reaction out of me. It’s best I stay out of the matriarch’s way for now.

“Impeccable timing.”

I turn to the source of the voice, and I pause.

There, in front of me, is Kuvira standing tall and proud. Now absent of her heavy armour representing the Zaofu Guard and replaced with the known green robes that typical citizens wear. No longer wearing her helmet, I can see her jet-black hair tied up into a ponytail. She’s stunning.

Feeling my cheeks warm slightly, I cough awkwardly. “Of course.”

Kuvira doesn’t react to the scene playing out before her. She tilts her head in a questioning way. “Have you had breakfast?”

I open my mouth to answer her question but instead of words, the answer is the growling of my stomach. Shit.

Kuvira smirks. “I guess not.”

With a sheepish grin, I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, I decided to skip breakfast with the others. I didn’t want to risk causing another argument.”

Listening to my explanation, the smirk fades from her lips. Then, the guard turns and starts walking. “Come. I know a place we can eat.”

Huh?

Rushing forward to catch up, I walk side-by-side with her. “We?”

“I haven’t had the chance to eat either.” Kuvira explains. “I know a good place that serves good food. Besides, this will be an opportunity for you to see more of Zaofu.”

Oh…

That’s…sweet.

As she leads me to the train that leads us to another section of the city, I have more look at the intrinsic building. They scream of a utopia with signs of a bright new era on the horizon.

“I’m really impressed with the architecture.” I comment, turning my gaze to Kuvira. To my surprise, she is already focusing her attention at me with a curious glint in her cool eyes. “It’s so much better than what I saw in Ba Sing Se. Not a single inch of poverty and dilapidation.”

She smiles. “Indeed. Thanks to Bataar, the architect, Zaofu is the most advanced city in the entire Earth Kingdom.”

The mention of the architect brings a flash of memory in my mind with the image of a middle-aged man and his younger accomplice passing by the dining room, with the former apologising to his wife and telling her he had a major breakthrough in the tram system.

Despite my issues with Suyin, I cannot deny that her husband is a genius. This architecture and technology should be shared with the rest of the kingdom!

“Well, he should be proud of what he has accomplished.” I finally respond. “All of this is revolutionary! Why hasn’t this been shared with the rest of the nation?”

My question appeared to trouble Kuvira slightly as I see her rip her gaze from me to stare through the tram’s window with a frown present.

Uh oh. Did I make her upset?

“Unfortunately,” Kuvira begins with a trace of bitterness. “the sharing of Zaofu’s resources wouldn’t be possible.”

The phrase of her answer makes me perk an eyebrow and lean forward slightly.

“How come?”

The frown deepens on Kuvira’s face. “The Earth Queen would never allow it. She despises changes or, at least, changes she didn’t implement. She certainly wouldn’t allow a rival of hers to improve her kingdom.”

Of course. Why am I not surprised?

A frustrated groan erupts from me, and I slump down to the tram’s seat. “Typical. The Earth Queen has a chance to improve the lives of her people and refuses it because it would hurt her pride and ego. I met her when we visited Ba Sing Se and what I saw was despicable. Her people were suffering and she herself was vile.”

I hear a hum of agreement from my companion.

Sighing heavily, I glance away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant. It’s just been troubling me for a while.”

“There’s no need to apologise.” Kuvira assures me, finally looking back at me. “I had nothing to add. I agree with you completely. The Queen is a horrible woman who should never have been in charge of the Earth Kingdom.”

“Exactly!” I exclaim, relieved with being understood. “I told Korra and Tenzin the same thing! You know what they said? They said there was nothing we could do other than advise! How is that right?”

All I get from Kuvira are two words.

“It isn’t.”

Before I can respond, the tram reaches its to a screeching halt. We have arrived.

Leaving the transport, the guard leads me through the city for around twenty minutes or so until finally we reach a small establishment. It has a square-like shape with the windows revealing the green interior of the building. I notice a counter with all types of food displayed with a male cashier behind it.

I glance up to see the sign on top of the store. “Badger’s Borrow.”

“Is this a café?” I ask her.

“It is.” Kuvira confirms. “I sometimes come here when I’m not on duty or busy with my dancing. It is welcoming and peaceful.”

Humming in acknowledgement, I gesture to the store door. “Well then, shall we?”

My gesture brings a smirk out of her. “We shall.”

The following minutes were nothing special. All it consisted was us waiting in line and ordering food to eat. Kuvira paid for both of us before I could even tell her I had no cash. She must have know beforehand. Clever.

Now, we sat on a table by the window eating our food. The time it took for us to explore Zaofu, travelling on the tram, and walking to the store was long enough for sunlight to shine down on the city.

“The food is pretty good here.” I tell her, taking bites of the item I ordered. “I can see why you come here.”

“Indeed.” She agrees with a smile. “It’s relaxing.”

The softness in her voice as she compliments the burrow opens a door of revelation for me. When I first saw her, I thought she was all serious, tough, and no-funny business. Now, though, I realise there’s more to her than meets the eye. Heh, in a way, she is a lot like Korra.

Korra…

The image of Korra’s rage at my outburst to Suyin flashes to the forefront of my mind brings my mood down. Despite making up at the end of the night, arguing with my best friend always saddens me greatly.

Kuvira seems to have noticed the change in my mood. “You seem troubled.”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”

Glancing upwards, I see curiosity and concern in her gaze. This time, however, I’m going to do ask the questions.

“Can I ask you something?”

Her eyes widen in surprise of the sudden topic change but relents. “You may.”

I lean forward to further engage in the situation. “You barely know me and yet you’re showing me around the city and taking me to a coffee shop you go to. Why?”

The guard’s eyes widen slightly in surprise of my bluntness but proceed to narrow in thought. She doesn’t respond for a while, as if she doesn’t know the answer herself, and I take a drink to act as a distraction to fill in the silence.

“You intrigued me.” Kuvira at lasts respond, though brief as it is.

Oh?

“Intrigued you?” I repeat.

She nods. “Your frustrations with Suyin, specifically.”

I frown. “You said you agreed with me when I talked about Varrick.”

“And I still do.” Kuvria confirms. “Even more so after given it some thought. When Suyin announced Varrick’s contribution to Zaofu despite his history I was troubled.”

Interesting.

I take another sip from my cup, my eyes still locked with Kuvira’s, and place it back down. “Did you say anything to her?”

She shakes her head slightly. “I did not. It is not my place. I’m the Captain of the Guard, not an adviser.”

“Captain of the Guard?” I repeat with surprise. “Adviser or not, that’s a pretty impressive rank to hold. You must be proud.”

She nods with pride. “I am. It is an honour to be given such a title.”

“Suyin must trust you pretty well.”

“I am her protégé.” Kuvira reveals to me, taking a sip of her own drink after the comment. “She mentored me since I was a child.”

“Interesting.” I comment. “Your parents must be proud.”

As soon as that sentence leaves my lips, I know I made a mistake. Kuvira frowns sharply and gazes down at her cup. Her eyes have hint of bitterness and…shame.

“I’m sorry!” I speak up almost immediately after my previous comment. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

“It’s fine.” The captain assures me sharply, though her tone betrays her. It’s clear she’s feeling uncomfortable now.

Despite the awkward silence that followed, I don’t feel any of it. Instead, a great wave of sympathy washes over me and also…familiarity.

An idea comes to me.

Should I do this? I mean, she’s a stranger. I haven’t even told Korra and Mako yet! Or even Tenzin, Kyuni and the others!

A stranger who seems to be like-mind as I. One who seems to be familiar with family troubles. Maybe this might make her feel slightly better.

“If it makes you feel any better…” I begin, trailing off slightly but then catch myself. “I have my own issues with my parents.”

At the mention of my situation, Kuvira immediately snaps her attention to me with her eyes widened. “You do?”

I nod solemnly. “I was gifted airbending too like Opal. I was so excited. I was always so interested in the Air Nation’s culture and to have the chance to be a part of it was…amazing. I remember feeling the rush as I went to call my parents. I told them and do you know what they said?”

Before Kuvira can even have the chance to respond, I chuckle sadly. “My father accused me of abandoning my tribe! Then, he tells me if that if I join the Air Nation I will not be considered as their own! Can you believe that? After years of loving memories, they were willing to abandon me!”

A single tear rolls down my left cheek and I quickly swipe it away.

“Sorry.” I tell her, gazing at my cup. “Didn’t meant to dump all that emotional shit onto your plate.”

Then, to my surprise, I feel a hand land on top of mine with a slight squeeze.

I look back up and I see Kuvira avoiding my gaze and instead focus it on our hands.

“I won’t sugar coat it by telling you everything will be fine.” The captain tells me, her voice hoarse. “It won’t be fine. It will never be. All I can tell you is following your own path. Don’t let your idiotic parents stop you from fulfilling your passions.”

My heart stops from Kuvira’s speech. When it concludes, it resumes.

Her advice is similar to Asami’s and yet…Kuvira’s seems the most…helpful? I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe it was her bluntness of it all. Maybe it was because she seems so familiar.

When she called my parents idiotic a brief spark of anger threatened to erupt but it quickly faded. After I gave it, some thought, she was right. I mean, after everything we’ve been together my parents are willing to cast me aside for wanting their child to follow their dreams and do some good in the world? What kind of parents do you have to be to do that?

“My parents abandoned me when I was a child.” Kuvira speaks up, her stature tense. “They dropped me with Suyin with a mere sack of my stuff and left me. Father told me it was for my own good but, really, it was to make their own lives easier. They abandoned their own daughter. They abandoned me.”

The sympathy that I already had for her intensifies in power and I place my own hand on top of her, now squeezing her hand gently.

Kuvira was abandoned as a child, but she overcame it. She was cast aside by the people she trusted the most and yet she rose to such a high position: The Captain of the Guard of Zaofu. It’s inspiring.

It has inspired me.

If Kuvira can overcome her past with her parents, then so can I. I can surpass this. I know I can.

“Your parents are fools.” I assure her. “From what I’ve seen, you’re so much better than them. Screw them.”

My own comfort brings a smile on Kuvira’s lips.

A smile forms on mine.

Then, in a tiny coffee shop with a stranger I barely know and yet feels so familiar, everything becomes clear. Everything.

“You were born in the Southern Water Tribe, you grew up in the Southern Water Tribe, and had practiced Southern Water Tribe traditions. And now you are abandoning your culture for another!"

“You are trying to abandon your tribe, and your mother and I will not tolerate such a betrayal.”

“The next time we talk, you better tell us you are not joining the Air Nation. If not, don’t contact or visit us ever again.”

The echoes of the past, once plagued my mind, are now only harmless afterthoughts.

I have made my decision.

I will join the Air Nation.

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Hope you all enjoyed it!

Feedback is appreciated! :D

See you all in the next chapter!

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dungeonmastersconsortium · 1 year

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Deeks: A Short Story of Eonera

Deeks sat on the park bench, wiping the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand. It was not particularly warm, but he had been trying to complete his route early, and his final delivery for the day had been in one of a few production facilities on the outskirts of Druwa. He could still taste the acrid metal tang of the air that was ever-present in arcane production buildings. He coughed and spat on the ground before taking a swig of water from the bottle he kept slung over his shoulder, before pouring it over his face to scrub some of the gray soot away.

Looking up at the sky, he saw the beautiful blue that was interrupted almost imperceptibly by the shimmer of Druwa’s defenses. Most people in the city, when they saw that shimmer, felt safe… protected. It helped them feel better. Deeks, though, only saw a sign of how far the beautiful world he lived in had fallen. With the rise of existential threats all around them, the Matriarch had decided to put the barrier in place. Now the city’s arcane batteries, once only a precautionary measure in case of a major disruption, powered the rippling dome over the city.

Matters like this were no longer Deeks’ concern, though. He was a simple courier now, and he cherished the simple joy of the job. He picked up the rod containing the day’s deliveries with a list of corresponding locations, summoned the parcel, and moved on. He got to go home to his partner when he was done, something he had only been able to do every now and again before. On a day like today, that meant everything to him.

Deeks, you there? The voice in his head was dull, the unmistakable smoky tone of the goblin dispatcher who assigned routes with the courier service. She spoke to him through the band clipped to his upper left ear. How many stops do you have left?

Hey, Valya, he replied mentally. Wouldn’t you believe it? I’m all booked up for today. He looked down at the steel rod in his free hand, dull from the lack of illuminated runes.

Bullshit, came the reply. You do know I can tell which rods have empty spots, don’t you? He did know that, of course. He replied with a mental eye-roll, which couldn’t be send, but the idea was transmitted over the telepathic link.

Yeah. I meant that I’m done for the day, he thought, dully. I’ve got stuff to do tonight. He received the mental equivalent of a shrug in response.

Late arrival. Paid extra for same day delivery.

I said no.

It’s close by. Sort of. Just get it done, and you’ll get the usual same-day bonus.

Does Corna understand the meaning of no?

He does. He also understands how time works. And coin. No other couriers are in your area. It’s an hour, tops.

I have to go home and- His mental retort was cut short.

You’ve got a nameday party to prepare. We know. Corna says there’s something extra in the pocket for tonight. A token of his appreciation.

If it’s another “One free half day” token, you can tell Corna to shove it up- Valya cut him off, probably saving his job.

It’s a couple bottles of that Uakruth vintage you like.

Fine. Last delivery. Sighing, he activated the first of the two glowing runes on the rod. Out popped a tightly rolled scrap of paper with an address. He groaned and stood up, shaking his head to get rid of some of the water and sweat that remained. He pulled the hood on his cloak up and got moving. He regretted not riding a skimmer today, but his current route wasn’t friendly to the hovering vehicles, given the haphazard alignment of the buildings. He hustled through the roads, sidestepping the occasional pedestrian as he hurried about his business. On the outskirts this was much easier, but the occasional “merchant” tried to flag him down to browse their wares, and even a Vidarian broker, blue-skinned and four-armed, tried to get him to take a job. He didn’t stop moving, even as the amphibious humanoid tried to flag him down with reassurances that it was easy, quick money for a courier. He kept his mind focused on his task, driven by his need to get home. He barely noticed the sky darkening… If he had, it may have struck him as odd, given that it was still early in the afternoon.

After a half hour or so of walking at the brisk pace he insisted on maintaining, he arrived at the designated address. He knocked on the door absentmindedly, already thinking of the preparations he’d still have to take care of when he got back. He had already paid a few street cooks to prepare food for the party, but decorating and rearranging the furniture still needed doing. He was about to knock again when he noticed the signboard on the wall next to the door.

BYLLERA HAS LEFT THE CITY

IF YOU NEED HER, INQUIRE AT

THE SILVERHOLD IN LEWELLYRA

Deeks sighed. A waste of his time. He pulled his hood back as if he were about to speak to someone face-to-face, more out of habit than actual necessity. He hated telepathic communication.

Valya. I don’t know who paid you for same day delivery, but they’re late, it seems. Recipient is long gone.

Odd, came the reply.

You’re telling me, he replied, tilting his head back to scrub his face with his hands. Refinery soot itched like a bitch. He then saw the darkening sky, and he narrowed his eyes, as though trying to solve a complex equation.

Well, assuming you’re not about to track her down, just -

Deeks’ senses were immediately overloaded. The first thing he registered after losing his sight was an intense, high pitched whine followed shortly by a blinding white light that replaced the darkness. The air tasted like burning metal, but not like it had at the refinery. This was more pure… more sinister. He fell to his knees as his flesh felt like someone was slowly pressing needles into him all over. Was it the ground shaking beneath him, or was that his body, wracked and shaking with sobs?

He blinked repeatedly, only to see through the haze of spots in his vision what looked like huge, metallic debris falling over the city. Not a lot… but before he could figure out what it was, the barrier that surrounded most of the city sparked and became opaque. The barrier that he, now, was outside. He was still paralyzed with pain, blinded by the sparkling lights that plagued his eyes. He gasped for breath, but the air tasted foul. He felt odd, something he hadn’t felt… Then he realized that he had subconsciously engaged a personal, transparent barrier around himself. As he gasped, looking around he saw the pedestrians around him. It was a scene straight out of his nightmares.As if in slow motion, he saw people dissolving around him… Their flesh turning to dust, followed by muscles… then bone. He screamed in pain and horror, unsure what was happening around him.

Looking toward the city, Deeks saw that people inside the barrier were looking just as horrified, but seemed unharmed. Then, with increasing dread, he realized that the shuddering he thought was his own body was, in fact, the ground beneath him. As the ringing subsided, he heard what sounded like the earth being torn apart. When he saw the city within the barrier list slightly, he stood up and tried to sprint toward the barrier. He defied the pain coursing through him, protesting every movement. He pounded a fist on the barrier, which did nothing but cause a searing pain that radiated up his arm, leaving black, cracked skin in its wake, and threw him backward.

As he regained his senses, he saw the city… his city, sinking in the ground.

VALYA. VALYA, WHAT’S HAPPENING? No response. He tapped the cuff on his ear. He took it off and examined it. It still carried the enchantment… But it wasn’t reaching its counterpart. He reached out to the barrier and screamed, a sound that tore through his throat with an anguish that couldn’t be put into words. Deeks was educated, and he knew what was happening, in part. The barrier had reacted to a threat, and was closed to outsiders. He was trapped on the wrong side. He lay on the ground, pounding the stone impotently with his fists, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. The city surely couldn’t survive if it continued to sink. He was aware of the massive cavern that lay below the city. Far below, not close to the surface enough to warrant concern about building a capital above it. But at the rate the city was sinking, it’d plummet to the bottom.

Deeks was just a courier, trapped outside an impenetrable barrier, screaming, crying, and flailing in anguish. He heard a deep thrumming sound, and internally winced, though he was able to make peace with it. Though his sobbing didn’t stop, he laid on his back, arms spread wide to the sky above him. At least this second wave of whatever danger had killed those around him wouldn’t be stopped by his contingency barrier… He would perish with all the rest.

*************

Deeks coughed as he awoke, his mouth and throat felt covered with dust. He rolled over, taking a drink from the bottle he always carried with him on the job. He choked, spat, and tried again, more slowly. He rolled over weakly, looking toward his home. Then he remembered what had transpired. He got to his feet shakily, then felt a surge of fear, pain, and rage, propelling him to sprint toward the barrier… Or where it had been. He was able to pass through the area, which was now a shallow crater in the earth. He sped down the incline, nearly falling multiple times.

Running for… He didn’t know how long… he reached the spot. He knew it should be here. He pounded the earth with his fists, to no avail. He dug at the soil with his hands, as if he could simply unearth his home.

He did not know how long he knelt there, digging, crying, and wailing, but eventually his arms refused to move, and he could no longer hold himself up. He crumpled, and embraced the darkness that overcame him once again.

*************

He guessed it had been two, perhaps three weeks since the city sank. He had been able to scavenge food and water from some of the buildings on the outskirts, and had been keeping himself alive more out of habit than any desire to see the next day. He wandered without purpose, eventually finding himself, quite by accident, in the same spot he had fallen when the city was forced below. He sat there, staring at where his city had been. He had contemplated the possibilities of seeking the city, and fully intended to do so… but he knew it was futile, deep down. He was currently considering more… dark possibilities. The only people he cared about had plunged beneath the surface… miles beneath the surface. He wasn’t far away from other bastions of civilization, but what was the point? The only person he loved was likely dead. He had no one, no job, no purpose…

He saw a glimmer in the dust nearby. He tilted his head quizzically, then walked over to the pinprick of light. Brushing the dirt away, he saw his transport rod, which hadn’t quite been buried by the dirt that blew all around the area for days after the sinking. He remembered what it contained, and the tears began to flow again. He hardly noticed them any more, they already felt like old friends. He considered opening the dimensional pocket, then looked up.

If you need her, inquire at the Silverhold in Lewellyra. He hefted the pack he had assembled over the last few days, stuffing the rod inside. Last delivery, he thought, even as he scrubbed at his dusty, tear-streaked face. Putting aside all thoughts of his own end, he began to walk. Last delivery.

#first attempt at a short story #critique is welcome #just don't be an ass #also if you like it PLEASE tell me.#eonera #short story #Short Stories of Eonera

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wishingforatypewriter · 5 months

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4, 7, 11 for your Baavira kids?

4. Having this/these character/s as their parents, how did it affect them?

Some of Tai's earliest memories were of sitting on Kuvira's lap as a toddler while she drafted legislation in Ba Sing Se and read each document to him in a voice so steady it was calming, so pursuing a career in law and politics felt as natural as breathing for him.

As Kuvira and Baatar's eldest daughter, Avani felt the pressure of the Beifong legacy and wanted to become the greatest metalbender there was. She also saw the way her mother dedicated the whole of herself to her work and internalized the same priorities. This is partly why she ultimately decided to prioritize her position as an Earth Kingdom general over relationships with both of her great loves.

Priya (ever the middle child) had a rebellious streak that often clashed with her mother's military discipline. She ended up leaving home at a relatively young age to pursue a career as a professional dancer and going no-contact with her parents for a while.

As the first nonbender of the siblings and a young engineer, Jae felt stifled growing up in a city that Baatar had rebuilt. He felt like his father's legacy was everywhere and there was no room for him to make a name for himself in Ba Sing Se. So he decided to go to university in Republic City and took a job at Varrick's company as soon as he graduated.

Shreya often felt like Kuvira infantilized her because she was the youngest and a nonbender, so she was always closer to Baatar. She grew up learning from her father in his workshop and watching him lecture at Ba Sing Se University, and he was the one who inspired her to become a civil engineer.

7. Which parent do they most resemble look-wise?

Tai and Shreya look more like Baatar (they also both wear glasses), while Avani and Jae look more like Kuvira. People say Priya looks more like Suyin than either of them.

11. How are their relationships with other relatives (grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles etc.)?

Tai is closest to Opal and Baatar Sr. He shares his aunt's love of reading, and they were always able to connect over old books and their shared project of preserving the family's history. He also enjoyed looking through his grandfather's sketchbooks.

Avani is closest to Wei and Wing. They always spoiled her and played with her as a child, and they were the ones who got her involved in youth earthbending tournaments. She also has an affinity for her Great Aunt Lin, whose style of metalbending she preferred to her grandmother's.

Priya is Suyin's darling. Growing up, she spent most of her summers in Zaofu, dancing in her grandmother's troupe and training in the meteorite garden. It was no surprise to anyone that Priya was the one who ultimately inherited the title of Metal Clan Matriarch from Suyin. She also adores her Uncle Huan and often joined him on his travels around the world.

Jae and Bolin always had a good relationship, and it got even stronger after he moved to Republic City for college. It was even Bolin who recommended he apply for the internship at Varrick Global Industries.

Shreya is also really close to Opal. As a non-metalbending Beifong woman, she sometimes felt like Aunt Opal was the only one who understood her.

Ask me about my next gen ocs!

#legend of korra #baavira #kuvira #baatar jr #my ocs #tai beifong #avani beifong #priya beifong #jae beifong #shreya beifong

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delunesnumberonefan · 7 months

Text

we're going to start the "love and war crash course posts" off with my greatest obsession in the campaign: the Matriarchs.

The Eldari Empire is where the bulk of the campaign is set in. it is ruled by 7 half-sisters known as the Matriarchs. Each of them has their own house/family that specializes in a different school of magic, each rule from their individual cities, they all share the same dad (who we hate). We have a complicated relationship with the matriarchs. Some of them are wonderful. Most of them are bitches. All of them have so many issues. My thought process was such upon realizing the extent of Them:

SO. obviously i am very normal about these women. these seven, powerful, morally grey, issue-having older women.

my boyfriend chase walked right into this one. he didn't see it coming, but he should've, and now here we are.

i am going to introduce each of the matriarchs under the cut. i want to thank korppipoika (linking them and not @'ing them because they don't need to see this) for drawing portraits of the matriarchs for me. I commissioned all of them so my boyfriend could have a poster of them in his room. i am the best girlfriend

so. the matriarchs.

we're going to go in order of age, starting from the oldest and the worst matriarch.

this is Adele Alnwick. her specialization is enchantment. mind control. you might be able to see where this is going.

Adele is on our shit list at the moment because we met an NPC (Badger) who was my character's (Gilt's) childhood best friend. Some shit went down, we got separated from Badger, Adele got her hands on her, and now Badger is evil mind controlled and wants to kill us.

we do not like adele.

we don't know a ton about her. Her whole thing is "house of corrections" type behavior. you go to her city of Athuum, and you either come back changed or don't come back at all. Athuum is subterranean in the mountains and also surrounded by lava.

She has one son, his name is Naite, and naite was mind controlled his whole life and escaped through the lava to get away from his mother.

if that ain't a testimony to the kind of person Adele is, i don't know what to tell you

next up is the complete opposite end of the scale: the matriarch we love the most.

Meet Freya Lovell.

the Eldari Empire (magic) has been at war with the neighboring dwarven faction (Ymir Conglomerate) (science) and the neighboring human faction (The Grand Imperium) (religion) for the past 100 or so years. House Lovell holds the line against the dwarves from the city of Thantos.

...how do i even begin to introduce Freya Lovell

she's half-giant, 10 feet tall. she is gentle. she is kind. she is a warrior woman who bonds with people (gilt) by kicking them through solid stone walls. Gilt views her as a mother figure and a mentor figure, as well as a dear friend. her specialization is abjuration magic. shielding. protection. she has a spell over her city called Heaven's Gate to make sure no dwarven projectiles hit Thantos. Thantos is shaped like a wedge or a shield. her keep is between her people and the battle line.

we met freya at a point where everything had gone to shit so hard in the campaign. we were wanted fugitives, we had no hope, no allies...and we stumbled upon a field where suddenly we couldn't use magic. and she sat in the center, and as we got closer we realized how big she was. she introduced herself, and gave us our first powerful ally, a home base, and hope besides.

i love Freya Lovell.

Freya had a human husband named Nicholas. he has since passed. Freya had two children with him. the first is her son Castien. they never really connected with each other because he was a bookish lad and Freya more readily bonded with his sister, her daughter Kalia.

about two years ago, there was a nasty battle. freya was out of commission after receiving her scars from a dwarven siege monster (think metal dragon) and so kalia and castien went out in her stead.

kalia died. castien lost his leg. after he recovered enough to realize what had happened, he ran.

...for two years freya was convinced she was the only surviving member of her family. and thanks to Gilt and Lost, we've returned her son to her. her daughter's corpse was taken by the Ymir Conglomerate and turned into an elite soldier known as "a Jack" (playing cards type hierarchy). we have defeated kalia, and are currently working on restoring her control so that freya can have her daughter back, too.

i would kill for freya lovell. we are house lovell in this household.

next up

Octavia Gilkes.

so there was an eensy lie in the above description of the matriarchs. the empire used to be ruled by seven powerful hot older half-sisters. four years ago, in a battle with the Grand Imperium, Octavia's mother Augustine Gilkes, the Illusion Matriarch, was mortally wounded. In her final moments, she activated a spell known as the Hell Wall

the hell wall would trap anyone who entered the city of Thannath in a powerful illusory reality that they couldn't escape from. for four years, anyone who entered the bounds of the city was trapped in this illusion and starved to death.

because Augustine died, the matriarch powers were passed to her only surviving child and only daughter, Octavia. for four years an 18 year old girl was trapped in a prison of her mother's making, a prison where nothing was wrong, everything was perfect, and she couldn't escape. she didn't even realize something was wrong, most of the time.

we traveled to Thannath to see if she could be an ally. through a very complicated series of events, we managed to bring the hell wall down. we found octavia ratty, dirty, emaciated, crying in the same room as her mother's corpse.

and we brought her to thantos. and on the way we were telling her outlandish stories from our adventure, stuff that the hell wall couldn't make up. stuff that would assure her that she was back in the real world. she didn't believe us until she encountered freya's curse.

all the matriarchs have curses. part of their magic. we don't know Adele's. Freya's is that no one can use magic within 100 feet, any type of magic. Octavia's is that her emotions take physical form and can get away from her, so to speak (and literally). when octavia's curse got cancelled out by freya, she collapsed into Gilt and Lost's arms, sobbing her eyes out, because she finally realized that she was truly free.

how many times had she been rescued in there? how many times had she believed she was free only to wake up back in it?

octavia is my daughter. i love her to pieces. second best matriarch.

next.

Helena Farraday.

...Helena goddamn Farraday. we don't know much about Helena.

What we do know is that Helena's curse is that she sees everything going on everywhere all the time all at once. she's the Divination matriarch, and literally Sees All. she's the surveillance state embodied in a person.

she never emotes. never smiles. never speaks above a whisper. hardly blinks. she looks like a statue most of the time

she has a loving husband named Actias Farraday who sees everything she is and sees every single weird quirk as a feature and not a bug. he loves his wife to pieces. the two of them have the most wholesome relationship in this whole damn thing. i have written smut about them.

they have four children. two are spies in the other powers. the other two are the secret police.

helena sees the future. but if she tells anyone about it, it changes. so helena is doomed to see everything that will happen to everyone everywhere all at once but cannot say a word about it.

...we have no real opinions on Helena Farraday. she's the one we know the least about. she seems chill, and i have no ill will towards her.

oh the next one is a treat

Ethalind Newmont.

where do we even fucking start with ethalind. she's the matriarch everyone thinks of when they think matriarch. she's 7 feet tall. she's on all the propaganda posters. she's the evocation specialist. literally her thing is destroying people from long range.

she's also a massive hedonist and throws elaborate orgies in the capital. she has had 9 kids with 7 different dads (2 sets of twins). she is the matriarch with the highest kid count. i know in my heart that she has a breeding kink.

i love her.

she's terrible.

her curse is that her magic literally eats her body if she uses it to destroy. her arms are just bone, but her Transmutation sister made her rings that transform her arms back to normal as long as she wears them.

the palace in the capital city of Varantha is white and gold. opulence taken to its extreme. the transmutation sister literally makes gold but ethalind has more of it. everything is white and gold, ethalind is a stickler for it

she shirked her duties, actually. she prematurely passed on the matriarch powers to her eldest son through a magic artifact and fucked off to do...whatever she does in her free time idk.

honestly i support this decision, having magic that destroys your body sucks, she's honestly a girlboss for deciding that ruling wasn't making her happy and fucking off to have fun. i love her for this

we saw her at a party once. she took 15 minutes start to finish to make her entrance and when Gilt told her that she understood the impulse to "set it down" (her responsibilities) ethalind took her out onto the veranda and bitched her out for 10 minutes straight.

she is so insane crazy. none of the matriarchs are hinged in the way they are supposed to be, but ethalind is deranged. she is unhinged. she is such a fascinating npc and i love her. can't wait to see more of her

Lorelei Omand. the transmutation sister i have talked so much about.

lorelei is another one we don't know a ton about. we don't know her curse. she's the first matriarch we met because we were passing through Mymeara and happened to rescue her youngest kid, only daughter, blatant favorite (Lola) from a kidnapping plot ordered by lorelei's youngest son, Dominic.

she turned him to gold as punishment. really horrifying implications for her entire palace being solid gold.

she has four kids, each from a different suitor that was kinda hand selected for her?? she hasn't expressed much interest in like actually pursuing someone herself, she's had people paraded in front of her and went from there.

the only issue i have with lorelei is that she shows obvious, blatant favoritism to her daughter and kinda neglects her sons. listen. freya isn't mom of the year. but lorelei is still worse. she's good with lola!! but not so much with the rest of them

lorelei is the only sister to be half-human, and also doesn't have pretty long hair like the rest of her sisters. she's insecure about it :(

and. hoo boy. oug h. here we go. last one

Saskia Valentine.

she's enemy #2, after Adele. She's my girlfriend's character (lost)'s mom. if ethalind is nuts, saskia is batshit.

saskia killed her nephew (ethalind's youngest) on a live zoom call. saskia fucks otherworldly entities to have kids that she uses as war machines. saskia is the conjuration specialist, and spends 10 years prepping for the fuck of the decade so that she can have another war machine baby. she has 7 kids, 6 horrendously powerful sons and Lost :) 6 different dads, Lost and her eldest brother share the same demon/force from before creation dad in a neat bookending of the bunch

saskia resides in Altensar. nobody knows what in the goddamn hell is going on in altensar. saskia doesn't like sharing, and people tend to not come back if they go up there. she's terrifying.

whenever chase does her voice, i am overcome with murderous rage. i hate her so much every time i listen to her talk. however, she is so incredibly sexy and i want her to step on me. you know? she inspires so many contradictions, and i don't understand how she does it.

lost is something called a "seraph" which we have heard briefly mentioned by a hologram of the matriarch's mutual dad, Adamwyn. we don't like grandpa. im not convinced that grandpa isn't in saskia's basement

OH YEAH

saskia was the youngest and dear ol dad's favorite. which tracks so much to me that it makes me angry. it makes so much sense. she was spoiled rotten by her dad and doesn't even stop to think, let alone think that she might be wrong about something

i love her. she's so fascinating. i hate her. i can't believe how attractive she is. i want to strangle her. if she kissed me i would fear for my life due to my proximity. i want her to kiss me. i want to be on a different continent from this woman at all times. do not let her near me. but i also want to play with her hair and listen to her talk about her evil plans.

she inspires so many conflicting emotions. i don't understand. im in love with her. i hate her. i think she's sexy. she makes me so irrationally angry.

look at them. bitches (affectionate) (derogatory) (conflicted) (confused) (aroused)

and that has been the Matriarchs! they have...so many issues

everyone thank my boyfriend chase for making such unhinged sexy women. everyone say thank you right fucking now

#roselyn talks #love and war #saskia tag #chase tag #gilt tag #long post #IM SORRY I DON'T THINK THE CUT WORKED #;-;#the matriarch tag #freya tag #ethalind tag #lorelei tag #octavia tag #helena tag #adele tag #just adding tags because now that i've broken the damn i WILL be talking about these terrible women

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