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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years

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'Loki' takes over: Tom Hiddleston on his new TV series and a decade in the MCU

Ten years after Hiddleston first chose chaos in Thor, Marvel’s fan favorite God of Mischief is going even bigger with his time-bending Disney+ show.

Tom Hiddleston is Loki, and he is burdened with glorious purpose: After playing Thor's puckish brother for over a decade in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, no one understands the mercurial Asgardian God of Mischief as well as the actor. He can teach an entire seminar on Loki if given the opportunity — which he actually did during pre-production on his forthcoming Disney+ show. In conversation, Hiddleston quotes lines from his MCU debut, 2011's Thor, almost verbatim, and will playfully correct you if you mistakenly refer to Asgard's Rainbow Bridge as the Bifrost, which is the portal that connects Loki and Thor's homeworld to the Nine Realms, including Midgard, a.k.a. Earth. "Well, the Bifrost technically is the energy that runs through the bridge," he says with a smile. "But nine points to Gryffindor!" And when he shows up to the photo shoot for this very digital cover, he hops on a call with our photo editor to pitch ways the concept could be even more Loki, like incorporating the flourish the trickster does whenever magically conjuring something. The lasting impression is that playing Loki isn't just a paycheck.

"Rather than ownership, it's a sense of responsibility I feel to give my best every time and do the best I can because I feel so grateful to be a part of what Marvel Studios has created," the 40-year-old Brit tells EW over Zoom a few days after the shoot and a week out from Thor's 10th anniversary. "I just want to make sure I've honored that responsibility with the best that I can give and the most care and thought and energy."

After appearing in three Thor movies and three Avengers, Hiddleston is bringing that passion to his first solo Marvel project, Loki, the House of Ideas' third Disney+ series following the sitcom pastiche WandaVision and the topical The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Led by head writer Michael Waldron (Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Heels), the six-episode drama sees Hiddleston's shapeshifting agent of chaos step out from behind his brother's shadow and into the spotlight for a timey-wimey, sci-fi adventure that aims to get to the bottom of who Loki really is. "I wanted to explore slightly more complex character questions," says Waldron. "It's not just good versus bad. Is anybody all good? Is anybody all bad? What makes a hero, a hero? A villain, a villain?"

Even though Loki — who loves sowing mayhem with his illusion magic and shapeshifting, all with a major chip on his shoulder — has never been one for introspection, the idea of building an entire show around him was a no-brainer for Marvel. When asked why Loki was one of the studio's first Disney+ shows, Marvel president Kevin Feige replies matter-of-factly, "More Hiddleston, more Loki." First introduced as Thor's (Chris Hemsworth) envious brother in Kenneth Branagh's Thor, Loki went full Big Bad in 2012's The Avengers. That film cemented the impish rogue as one of the shared universe's fan favorites, thanks to Hiddleston's ability to make him deliciously villainous yet charismatic and, most importantly, empathetic. The character's popularity is one of the reasons he's managed to avoid death many times.

"He's been around for thousands of years. He had all sorts of adventures," says Feige. "Wanting to fill in the blanks and see much more of Loki's story [was] the initial desire [for the series]."

The Loki we meet on the show is not the one who fought the Avengers in 2012 and evolved into an antihero in Thor: The Dark World and Thor: Ragnarok before meeting his demise at the hands of the mad titan Thanos (Josh Brolin) in 2018's Avengers: Infinity War. Instead, we'll be following a Loki from a branched timeline (a variant, if you will) after he stole the Tesseract following his thwarted New York invasion and escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. custody during the time heist featured in Avengers: Endgame. In other words, this Loki hasn't gone through any sort of redemption arc. He's still the charming yet petulant god who firmly believes he's destined to rule and has never gotten his due.

Premiering June 9, Loki begins with the Time Variance Authority — a bureaucratic organization tasked with safeguarding the proper flow of time — arresting the Loki Variant seen in Endgame because they want his help fixing all of the timeline problems he caused while on the run with the Tesseract. So there will be time travel, and a lot more of it than in Endgame. As Loki makes his way through his own procedural, he'll match wits with new characters including Owen Wilson's Agent Mobius, a brilliant TVA analyst, and Gugu Mbatha-Raw's Judge Renslayer. The question in early episodes is whether Loki will help them or take over.

"One of the things Kevin Feige led on was, 'I think we should find a way of exploring the parts of Loki that are independent of his relationship with Thor,' or see him in a duality or in relationship with others, which I thought was very exciting," says Hiddleston, who also serves as an executive producer on the show. "So the Odinson saga, that trilogy of films, still has its integrity, and we don't have to reopen it and retell it."

Yet, in order to understand where Loki is going, it's important to see where he came from.

Hiddleston can't believe how long he and Loki have been connected. "I've been playing this character for 11 years," he says. "Which is the first time I have said that sentence, I realize, and it [blows] my mind. I don't know what percentage that is exactly of my 40 years of being alive, but it's substantial."

His time as Loki actually goes a bit further back, to 2009 — a year after Robert Downey Jr. big banged the MCU into existence with Iron Man — when he auditioned for Thor. It's no secret that Hiddleston initially went in for the role of the titular God of Thunder, but Feige and director Kenneth Branagh thought his natural charm and flexibility as an actor made him better suited for the movie's damaged antagonist. "Tom gave you an impression that he could be ready for anything, performance-wise," says Branagh, who had previously worked with him on a West End revival of Checkov's Ivanov and the BBC series Wallander. "Tom has a wild imagination, so does Loki. He's got a mischievous sense of humor and he was ready to play. It felt like he had a star personality, but he was a team player."

Hiddleston fully immersed himself in the character. Outside of studying Loki's history in the Marvel Comics, he also researched how Loki and the Trickster God archetype appeared across mythology and different cultures. "He understood that he was already in something special [and] it was a special character in a special part of that early moment in the life of the Marvel universe where [he] also needed to step up in other ways," says Branagh, who was impressed by the emotional depth Hiddleston brought to the part, especially when it came to how isolated Loki felt in the Asgardian royal family.

There was a lot riding on that first Thor feature. For one, no one knew if audiences would immediately latch onto a Shakespearean superhero movie partially set on an alien planet populated by the Norse Gods of legend. Second, it was integral to Feige's plans for the shared universe. Loki was supposed to be the main villain in The Avengers, which would not only mirror how Earth's mightiest heroes joined forces in 1963's Avengers #1 but also give Thor a believable reason for teaming up with Iron Man, Captain America (Chris Evans), and the rest of the capes. Feige first clued Hiddleston into those larger plans when the actor was in L.A. before Thor started shooting.

"I was like, 'Excuse me?' Because he was already three, four steps ahead," says Hiddleston. "That took me a few minutes to process, because I didn't quite realize how it just suddenly had a scope. And being cast as Loki, I realized, was a very significant moment for me in my life, and was going to remain. The creative journey was going to be so exciting."

Hiddleston relished the opportunity to go full villain in Avengers, like in the scene where Loki ordered a crowd to kneel before him outside a German opera house: "It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation," says the Machiavellian god. "The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

"I just knew that in the structure of that film, I had to lean into his role as a pure antagonist," Hiddleston recalls. "What I always found curious and complex about the way Loki is written in Avengers, is that his status as an antagonist comes from the same well of not belonging and being marginalized and isolated in the first Thor film. Loki now knows he has no place in Asgard."

Loki did find a place within the audience's hearts, though. Feige was "all in" on Hiddleston as his Loki from the beginning, but even he couldn't predict how much fans would love him. Feige recalls the reaction at the 2013 San Diego Comic-Con: "Did we know that after he was the villain in two movies, he would be bringing thousands of people to their feet in Hall H, in costume, chanting his name? No, that was above and beyond the plan that we were hoping for and dreaming of." It was a dream Feige first got an inkling of a year earlier during the Avengers press tour when a Russian fan slipped past security, snuck into Mark Ruffalo's car, and asked the Hulk actor to give Hiddleston a piece of fan art she created. "That was one of the early signs there was much more happening with this quote-unquote villain."

Despite that popularity, the plan was to kill Loki off in 2013's Thor: The Dark World, but the studio reversed course after test audiences refused to believe he actually died fighting the Dark Elves. Alas, he couldn't out-illusion death forever. After returning in Taika Waititi's colorful and idiosyncratic Thor: Ragnarok, Hiddleston's character perished for real in the opening moments of Infinity War. In typical Loki fashion, before Thanos crushed his windpipe, he delivered a defiant speech that indicated he'd finally made peace with the anger he felt toward his family.

"It felt very, very final, and I thought, 'Okay, that's it. This is Loki's final bow and a conclusive end to the Odinson saga,'" says Hiddleston, who shot that well-earned death scene in 2017.

But, though he didn't know it yet, the actor's MCU story was far from over.

Credit: Charlie Gray for EW

When Hiddleston returned to film two scenes in Avengers: Endgame in 2017, he had no idea where Loki portaled off to after snatching the Tesseract. "Where'd he go? When does he go? How does he get there? These are all questions I remember asking on the day, and then not being given any answers," Hiddleston recalls. To be fair, it's likely the Powers That Be didn't necessarily have answers then. While Feige can't exactly recall when the writers' room for Endgame first devised Loki's escape sequence, he does know that setting up a future show wasn't the primary goal — because a Loki series wasn't on the horizon just yet.

"[That scene] was really more of a wrinkle so that one of the missions that the Avengers went on in Endgame could get screwed up and not go well, which is what required Cap and Tony to go further back in time to the '70s," says Feige. Soon after that, though, former Disney CEO Bob Iger approached Feige about producing content for the studio's forthcoming streaming service. "I think the notion that we had left this hanging loose end with Loki gave us the in for what a Loki series could be. So by the time [Endgame] came out, we did know where it was going."

As for Hiddleston, he didn't find out about the plans for a Loki show until spring 2018, a few weeks before Infinity War hit theaters. "I probably should not have been surprised, but I was," says the actor. "But only because Infinity War had felt so final."

Nevertheless, Hiddleston was excited about returning for his show. He was eager to explore Loki's powers, especially the shapeshifting, and what it meant that this disruptive figure still managed to find a seat beside the gods in mythology. "I love this idea [of] Loki's chaotic energy somehow being something we need. Even though, for all sorts of reasons, you don't know whether you can trust him. You don't know whether he's going to betray you. You don't why he's doing what he's doing," says Hiddleston. "If he's shapeshifting so often, does he even know who he is? And is he even interested in understanding who he is? Underneath all those masks, underneath the charm and the wit, which is kind of a defense anyway, does Loki have an authentic self? Is he introspective enough or brave enough to find out? I think all of those ideas are all in the series — ideas about identity, ideas about self-knowledge, self-acceptance, and the difficulty of it."

“The series will explore Loki's powers in a way they have not yet been explored, which is very, very exciting.”

The thing that truly sold Hiddleston on the show was Marvel's decision to include the Time Variance Authority, a move he describes as "the best idea that anybody had pertaining to the series." Feige and Loki executive producer Stephen Broussard had hoped to find a place for the TVA — an organization that debuted in 1986's Thor #372 and has appeared in She-Hulk and Fantastic Four stories — in the MCU for years, but the right opportunity never presented itself until Loki came along. "Putting Loki into his own procedural series became the eureka moment for the show," says Feige.

The TVA's perspective on time and reality also tied into the themes that Waldron, Loki's head writer, was hoping to explore. "Loki is a character that's always reckoning with his own identity, and the TVA, by virtue of what they do, is uniquely suited to hold up a mirror to Loki and make him really confront who he is and who he was supposed to be," says Waldron. Hiddleston adds: "[That] was very exciting because in the other films, there was always something about Loki that was very controlled. He seemed to know exactly what the cards in his hand were and how he was going to play them…. And Loki versus the TVA is Loki out of control immediately, and in an environment in which he's completely behind the pace, out of his comfort zone, destabilized, and acting out."

To truly dig into who Loki is, the creative team had to learn from the man who knows him best: Hiddleston. "I got him to do a thing called Loki School when we first started," says director Kate Herron. "I asked him to basically talk through his 10 years of the MCU — from costumes to stunts, to emotionally how he felt in each movie. It was fantastic."

Hiddleston got something out of the Loki school, too. Owen Wilson both attended the class and interviewed Hiddleston afterward so that he could better understand Loki, as his character Mobius is supposed to be an expert on him. During their conversation, Wilson pointedly asked Hiddleston what he loved about playing the character.

"And I said, 'I think it's because he has so much range,'" says Hiddleston. "I remember saying this to him: 'On the 88 keys on the piano, he can play the twinkly light keys at the top. He can keep it witty and light, and he's the God of Mischief, but he can also go down to the other side and play the heavy keys. And he can play some really profound chords down there, which are about grief and betrayal and loss and heartbreak and jealousy and pride.'" Hiddleston recalls Wilson being moved by the description: "He said, 'I think I might say that in the show.' And it was such a brilliant insight for me into how open Owen is as an artist and a performer.'"

Owen Wilson as Mobius and Tom Hiddleston as Loki in 'Loki.'| Credit: Chuck Zlotnick/Marvel Studios

Everyone involved is particularly excited for audiences to see Hiddleston and Wilson's on-screen chemistry. "Mobius is not unlike Owen Wilson in that he's sort of nonplussed by the MCU," says Feige. "[Loki] is used to getting a reaction out of people, whether it's his brother or his father, or the other Avengers. He likes to be very flamboyant and theatrical. Mobius doesn't give him the reaction he's looking for. That leads to a very unique relationship that Loki's not used to."

As for the rest of the series, we know that Loki will be jumping around time and reality, but the creative team isn't keen on revealing when and where. "Every episode, we tried to take inspiration from different things," says Waldron, citing Blade Runner's noir aesthetic as one example.

"Part of the fun of the multiverse and playing with time is seeing other versions of characters, and other versions of the titular character in particular," says Feige, who also declined to confirm if Loki ties into Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and/or other upcoming projects.

Making Loki was especially meaningful to Hiddleston because they shot most of it during the pandemic, in late 2020. "It will remain one of the absolute most intense, most rewarding experiences of my life," he says. "It's a series about time, and the value of time, and what time is worth, and I suppose what the experience of being alive is worth. And I don't quite know yet, and maybe I don't have perspective on it, if all the thinking and the reflecting that we did during the lockdown ended up in the series. But in some way, it must have because everything we make is a snapshot of where we were in our lives at that time."

While it remains to be seen what the future holds for Loki beyond this initial season, Hiddleston isn't preparing to put the character to bed yet. "I'm open to everything," he says. "I have said goodbye to the character. I've said hello to the character. I said goodbye to the character [again]. I've learned not to make assumptions, I suppose. I'm just grateful that I'm still here, and there are still new roads to explore."

#Tom Hiddleston #Loki #Disney+#interview

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lqtraintracks · 3 years

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Humbly and with so much gratitude for the love this story has already received (I love everyone in this bar tonight!), I claim my submission for the Harry Draco Big Bang 2021, Bolts. My dearest artist, @slytherco, who not only made SIX major pieces of art for this story, plus several wonderful scene dividers, also made me this gorgeous banner! Long header is long. I'm not sorry. Title: Bolts Author: @lqtraintracks Artist: @slytherco Pairing(s): Harry/Draco; also: Hermione/Ron; Firenze/Bane/OMC / OFC (all centaurs); OMC / OMC, OFC / OMC, ONBC / OFC; Dean/Seamus; implied past Draco/Anthony Goldstein; past Draco/OMC; past Harry/Ginny; some other pairings, none having to do with H or D Other Key Characters: so many OCs, but the main one is Samantha Peabody; McGonagall; Hermione; Ron; Luna; Neville; Firenze; Narcissa; a were-boy named Gerald; a ribald portrait named Madam Blanton; house elves; a kraken (sort of) Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~115,000 Era: Post-Hogwarts, EWE Content/Warnings: curses; truth curse; nonconsensual truth-telling; one-sided accidental bond of sorts; some homophobia; polyamory (not between Harry and Draco); some recreational drug use; some alcohol use/drinking; angst but with a happy ending; humor; UST; pent-up sexual frustration; a dubiously consensual lap dance; skinny-dipping; aggressive switching; flip-fuck; deep-throating; dual/alternating POV Summary: Harry joins the Hogwarts staff as the new History of Magic Professor, while Draco has already been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts for the past year. When Samantha Peabody, a first year, is being bullied one day and throws a made-up Truth curse at her harasser, only to accidentally hit Harry instead, Harry becomes cursed to tell the truth, and not only that, he has to regularly tell it to Draco Malfoy. Samantha is clearly gifted, maybe the most powerful witch or wizard to ever come through Hogwarts, and yet she has no idea how to take the curse off. As they work to remove it—and also teach Samantha how to control a power that’s becoming more dangerous by the day—will Harry’s truths become too much to handle? And will whatever’s going on with Draco just make everything exponentially worse? Author’s Notes: I began the journey of writing this story back in 2018. I’m so grateful that writing for the 2021 Harry/Draco Big Bang gave me the push I needed to finish. I’d like to thank Grace and Writ for running the fest and working so hard! To my tireless, AMAZING betas who gave this their time, attention, and who made this so much tighter and better than it would have been otherwise: @tackytigerfic and @maesterchill, I cannot thank you enough, you beautiful humans! To @magpiefngrl for being the alpha I needed at exactly the time that I needed it! You came in and read straight through and helped me remember why I loved this story so much. Your support, your expertise, and everything you brought to this story means the world to me. I’m beyond grateful. And @bixgirl1. You gave me the two prompts that I smooshed together to get the idea for this fic. You listened to me talk about it for hours and were so supportive, so enthusiastic. And you were everything I needed as I started a fic that would turn into the longest thing I’ve ever written. In so many ways, you gave me the confidence to not only start this story, but to finish it. It simply would not exist without you.

And lastly to my artist, @slytherco: You absolute badass! You talented witch! You are one of my favorite artists in fandom, and I knew that the energy you bring to your work would be a wonderful complement to this story, but… Ola, you demolished even my highest hopes for this. You are astounding, and I am so grateful, my friend. Beyond your skill as an artist, you also were just a joy to work with, and I have simply loved our conversations during this process. You are so fun and sweet, and your art is daring and beautiful. You brought Bolts and this Harry and Draco to life. Congratulations on the extraordinary work you did here. I am unutterably honored.

(The first one and a half lines of this story, I ganked straight from Andrew Sean Greer’s phenomenal novel, ‘Less’. Back when I began, I just needed a start, and I adore that book with my whole heart, so I went with it, and it got me going. I wanted to give credit where it was deserved.) Title inspired by the song Lightning Bolts by Iko. <3 Enjoy!

Bolts by lqt

#bolts #drarry fic #harrydracobang2021

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muertawrites · 4 years

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The Dark of the Moon (Zuko x Reader)

Summary: Late night insomnia turns into a conversation about love, and Zuko makes an interesting discovery about his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2,100

Author’s Note: You can thank Avatar being on Netflix and rekindling my childhood obsession for this one. I wrote this mostly as a dialogue / pacing exercise, but it’s also a bit therapeutic since I can actually relate to Zuko more than I realized or could have ever foreseen watching this show as a ten year old. Enjoy a little emotional romantic fantasy on behalf of a preteen crush and all the toxic friends I’ve ever had. ✌

~ Muerta

Zuko usually slept with you. It started one late night during a mutual bout of insomnia, in which you ran into him as you both wandered the halls of the Western Air Temple. You hardly knew him, but he sat with you and talked about everything that night - anything that wasn’t related to the war or either of your pasts that had been torn apart by it. He surprised you with his dry, even-toned sense of humor, as well as with his intelligence in not only combat but literature and philosophy as well; being a healer and a fortune teller by trade, you found a lot to talk about with him.

As the nights awake became more common, you and Zuko spent more of them together; sometimes you’d wait until you happened upon him in the halls, others one of you would designate a place to meet. Eventually, one of you would go directly to the other’s room and you’d sit, sharing whatever light or heavy thoughts happened to plague your minds. You learned a lot about him in those nights, and grew to feel proud of how far he’d come in such a short time - you often helped others, those much older than yourselves, over months to scale the internal struggles he had, and he’d managed to do so on his own. The more you gave to him, the more he gave back, and it soon became commonplace to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing as he lay in his sleeping bag on the other end of your room.

And that’s exactly what woke you up - the strange, still energy of your bedroom that indicated his resting place was empty. You rolled over, unable to spy his silhouette under the moonlit windowsill, and you rose, your feet carrying you to where you were certain he would be.

It was a gorgeous night, with a gentle breeze ruffling the crisp air. You found Zuko in the courtyard, gazing out over the fog veiled landscape under the swell of the full moon. Without a word, you sat beside him, watching the clouds roll by like ships on a silent ocean. His chest churned in turmoil, so intensely you could feel it in your own.

“Apparently, I can’t sleep without you anymore,” you said. “How selfish of you to have problems that keep you up at night.”

Zuko huffed out a soft chuckle, though the weight in his chest didn’t lift. He leaned back onto his palms, craning his neck backward and allowing the wind to tousle his ash-black hair.

“You didn’t need to come out here,” he told you gently. “It’s not your job to help me fix myself.”

“It never has been,” you replied. “I’ve never fixed anyone. All I ever do is listen and recite a few proverbs; everyone comes to their own conclusions in the end.”

“That’s not true,” Zuko retorted. “I’ve seen you heal. You can do things not even Katara can do, just with whatever happens to be growing nearby. It’s incredible.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Physical healing and emotional healing are two super different things,” you told him. “Emotional wounds can only really be healed by the people who have them. I mean, unless you want me to crack open your chest and poke around at your heart for a little while.”

Zuko chuckled again, the tenseness of his muscles easing up just slightly. He opened his palm and spawned a softly glowing flame, both of you watching it flicker in the cool night air.

“I wish I’d been born a water bender,” he mused. “Something that would do good for others. All fire does is destroy.”

You were silent for a moment, watching the thoughts swirl, tormented, behind his eyes. You thought of all the times you’d seen him smile, how his happiness made his handsome features all the more radiant and caused your stomach to bubble with joy. The memory shot a spike through your chest.

“... You know, we only ever see one part of the moon,” you commented, breaking the quiet. “Everything behind that - the dark side - we don’t really consider, even though it’s always there and is as much a part of the moon as the side that’s in front of us.”

Zuko smirked at you, distinguishing the flame in his hand.

“Reciting a proverb at me?” he teased.

You grinned.

“This one’s more like a metaphor,” you admitted cheekily. “That tea I make, the one that tastes awful but makes pain completely disappear?”

Zuko nodded.

“I need fire to make it,” you continued. “I have to roast the ingredients over an open flame before boiling them. Without fire, I couldn’t do most of my healing; it would be too painful without the tea to help.”

Zuko said nothing, but you could sense your words sinking into the cracks in his troubled thinking.

“Fire is heat and light,” you added. “It’s just as important to life as water or earth or air. Every element is capable of destruction or creation - there isn’t a single one that’s inherently good or bad. The person that controls them is the only one who determines that.”

There was another long pause, in which you busied yourself noting the different wild plants growing between the stones that paved the courtyard. You listed the different medicines you could make with each, the process calming you.

“I’ve done some pretty shitty things to people I care about in order to embrace my goodness,” Zuko finally spat. The bitterness in his tone stung you. You turned to him, and for a split second you caught a familiar, rageful glimmer in his eye; the sight made your own temper flare.

“Zuko, don’t do that to yourself,” you said. “It wasn’t just your father who hurt you and you know that.”

“I know,” he snapped, cutting off the end of your words. “I still care about her, though. I don’t even know if she really ever cared about me, but I still… I still miss her.”

Your ribs seemed to cave in, crushing your heart and lungs. He’d told you about Mai many times, and all you ever saw was that the darkness in her drew out the darkness in him; it even hung over you, clouding out the comfort you felt with Zuko and replacing it with unease and doubt. You feared there was no place in his heart for you - not while Mai still remained in it, no matter how badly her memory made him bleed.

“It’s hard,” you choked out. “I still miss some of the people who hurt me, too.”

That was all you could manage to say. You pulled your knees to your chest, half-burying your face in the fabric of your night dress as you forced the tears welling in the corners of your eyes not to flow.

This is what you get, you scolded yourself. This is what you get for feeling things for people you know could never feel the same about you.

A sensation of warmth curling around your shoulders made you jolt. Instinctively, you inched away, glancing in Zuko’s direction as he retracted the arm that had draped around you. You expected him to look away, but he didn’t - his pale amber eyes instead locked with yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “You hold your head so high… I forget sometimes that you’re trying to heal, too.”

His words caused your tears to spill, though you didn’t cry; your face remained stony, and no sobs shook you. Your tears fell as easily as water from a cliff’s edge, impeded by nothing but the will of gravity.

“... The cards you lent me,” Zuko said after a pause, almost blurting the words. “I’ve been reading them, to help me let go of everything I left behind. I don’t think I’m doing it right.”

A few weeks ago, you’d given him a deck of cards you used for fortune telling. Each card depicted a different object, element, or scene, and were laid out in combinations that gave insight into a person’s spiritual path. You liked them more than other forms of fortune telling, as it encouraged its readers to make their own assumptions and drive their own fates instead of having it simply told to them. You gave your deck to Zuko so he could reflect on something finite, instead of getting consumed by his own thoughts. It was exactly what you used them for, and you knew they would help.

“Why?” you asked softly.

“I drew a card that didn’t make sense,” he told you. “I laid down the Tides, then the Crossed Blades, and then… I pulled the Badger Mole. The other two I understand - one is for movement and change, the other is for strength in allies, but I… can’t figure out what the Badger Mole is supposed to mean.”

“Badger moles are strong, powerful,” you explained, speaking dispassionately from memory, “but they’re gentle. The card represents the duality of both. They mate for life, too, so it also represents love and companionship.”

As you spoke, you felt a meteor crash between you and Zuko. His face fell, dumbfounded, as he looked at you, his eyes darting minutely back and forth as you watched the pieces mend together in his head.

“What do you feel?” you whispered, part of you terrified of his answer.

“... I feel like I’m fighting the tide,” Zuko replied, his tone awestruck. “It’s pushing me to shore, but I keep trying to swim back out to sea.”

The corners of your lips curled upwards slightly, your cheeks still sticky with tears.

“It’s really scary, huh?” you said. “Loving another person.”

“Yeah... especially when you’ve never known what it feels like before,” Zuko added softly.

You reached out, tentatively resting your palm against his cheek. His hand rose to close over yours, the sensation trembling you to your core.

“How many times have you pulled the Badger Mole?” you asked.

“Every time,” Zuko breathed. “I’m so stupid for not realizing. You make me feel wild and calm all at once. I get this crushing feeling in my chest when I see you or even think of you, and I thought it was just fear or sadness. But… you don’t make me want to lash out like I used to, with my father and Azula and Mai… just the thought of you makes me want to be the best person I can be. Even though I know you already accept me for not being that person.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, somewhat defeatedly, your knees falling away from your chest and crossing in front of you. Your body was heavy, but your head felt light.

“I love you, Zuko,” you murmured. “But I’m afraid.”

Zuko wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His forehead fell to rest against yours, his eyes closing as he steadied his erratic breathing.

“If you’re scared, I’ll protect you,” he said quietly. “That’s what I think lovers are supposed to do.”

The word made every organ in your body jump to your throat. Lovers. Your limbs felt weak, but your heart felt strong with Zuko holding you.

Without thinking, you took his face in your hands and kissed him. It wasn’t hard and passionate like you expected, but firm, gentle, his lips pressing to yours like two palms grasped in an assuring embrace. He lay one of his large, able hands on the back of your neck, his thumb tenderly stroking your skin.

When you finally broke apart, Zuko gazed at you with a soft, forlorn expression. His fingers reached to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sorry I talk about her so much,” he said. “It must kill you.”

You shook your head, a soft smile forming on your lips, still red from where Zuko had kissed them.

“Don’t worry about it,” you told him. “I know some people from my past you’d happily drive a knife into.”

Zuko chuckled, the light, airy smile you saw when he was truly happy spreading to each of his cheeks. The spike that drove itself through your heart when you thought of it earlier was gone, replaced by the sweet warmth of a low flame on a cold night. With him, you were safe.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Zuko suggested, taking your arm to help you stand.

His hand slipped easily into yours, your fingers twining together. He leaned forward and kissed you again, his lips only grazing yours, causing your skin to buzz with the sensation.

“... Do you think we’ll have to talk to Aang about this?” you asked as you walked back to your room.

Zuko raised an eyebrow at you, confused.

“He is your great-grandfather,” you elaborated with jest. “I should probably do the chivalrous thing and ask for his blessing or something.”

Zuko laughed, nudging you with his shoulder so that you stumbled over your feet. You shoved him back, to which he took you by the waist and wrapped you tightly in his arms, kissing your cheek.

“He probably won’t care,” he replied. “But my uncle will love you.”

#muerta's works #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #zuko fanfic #prince zuko fanfic #atla fanfic #avatar fanfiction #self insert fanfiction #lmao when you don't know how to end a fic

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angelssdecay · 3 years

Text

Why Xiao isn’t just some edgelord, an essay by yours truly (or: I need sleep)

Before you read!!

This was mainly written because I kind of got tired of Xiao being labelled as ‘edgelord’ a lot of times and while I have nothing against it when it’s jokingly said (after all I call Childe a ‘clown’ all the time or Klee ‘Arson child’ haha, you get what I mean) I also feel like him getting meme’d as that leads to a lot of mischaracterization. I’m not here to attack anyone or anything!! Just sharing my personal thoughts about him influenced by his canon lore in game + headcanons I developed while writing fics for him. I hope you don’t mind my brainrot.

- I suppose that a lot of Xiao’s characterization as an ‘edgelord’ comes from his wildly dark history and the way he expresses himself (like growling when he’s thinking about his past memories) that is quite different from other characters in Genshin when he’s not like this because he wants to but because he’s been shaped by his trauma that reaches wide into the past and the fact that he doesn’t belong in the human world - he is stuck in the mortal world while having to defend it from otherworldly beings and forces that threaten to destroy the fragile balance between both worlds, and it’s a task he fulfils with pride because it was given to him by Rex Lapis, the god who saved him from his former master –

- an evil deity who had abused and used him and forced him to commit atrocities that still haunt him to this day; he never wanted to kill, he never wanted to have to take away someone’s dreams but he was helpless to resist and in the end he stained his hands with so much more blood than he ever wanted to - taking his trauma and the way he talks about it and labelling it as ‘edgy’ is plain disregarding towards the pain he went through in his early years when his innocence was stolen from him and then utterly destroyed until Rex Lapis saved him and gave him his life back, a duty he can be proud of and the chance to regain a bit of his former gentleness because that’s who he is deep inside: a kind and gentle soul that never wants to hurt anyone

- not to mention the trauma he experienced by having to watch the only family he ever had, the other Yakshas, perish one after another – whether it was because they were consumed by the darkness they fought and killed one another or because they died in battle – he wasn’t able to save any of them and while it’s never talked about in-game lore I doubt that their deaths didn’t leave a mark on him that lasts till today. To be heralded as the last Yaksha is surely not a title that Xiao is proud or happy about. - to get to his character trait of him usually keeping his sentences curt and to the point (like his good morning line ‘’We're wasting time. Let's go.’’) and him growling when he thinks about his sorrowful past that probably made people label him as edgy – does it really surprise anyone that he doesn’t talk like humans from Teyvat talk when he’s a) not human and b) has spent almost all of his life in solitude? - which would obviously lead to him being extremely used to dealing with emotions and humans; despite having such a kind and selfless heart (more to that later) but he’s just not used to conversing with humans - mainly because Adepti need to keep their distance from humans lest their adeptal energy will harm them - when Xiao kept his distance from humans all these years, it was for their own good (something he says during the first meeting with the traveller and something I think he firmly believes in because past encounters with humans never went well for them and again, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone and certainly not humans) - and while he’s gotten used to living in solitude I don’t think he actually enjoys having to live like this – he’s incredibly lonely and suffers from it - and just like every living being he longs to have someone to talk to and who understands him, even appreciates him although this is something he wouldn’t dare to wish for because it’s something that can’t be fulfilled (Lumine: sikes you thought you can stay alone forever, yeah too bad for you I’m here for you now) - it was stated in the article about Xiao and his creation process how curious he is about the human world despite trying to hide it from others (and himself too because longing for something you can’t have or take part in hurts like hell and god knows he’s experienced enough in his life) - but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t yearn to experience those feelings of warmth and love that most humans as well - and when I say love I don’t necessarily mean romantic love although I don’t count it impossible for him (though it would take a long time for him to break down his own walls and find the courage to love and be hurt, and I think abrupt love confessions would frighten him because he simply never experienced it before – a life of bloodshed and battle certainly don’t help with understanding his own or other hearts) - no, what I mean are the different kinds of love he’s seen humans share with each other – a mother’s love when she puts her child to bed with a goodnight kiss, a friend’s platonic love when they hug their friend who’s sad or simply out of joy – it’s all things he never got to experience for himself but secretly longs to experience as well (fight me on that because I’ll die on that hill) - and this also leads to me firmly believing that he doesn’t hate humans no matter how often he ‘mocks’ traditions and customs – it’s mainly to hide his own curiosity and longing to join them knowing that he doesn’t belong with humans. But he certainly doesn’t hate them no matter his words because you can’t guard and protect someone without loving and caring for them. If he truly despised humans he would have never risked his life and soul for as long as he has to protect them. - and he knows that he will never receive any gratitude for the suffering he endures, nor that anyone will pray to him, or even pray for him to come home from battle safely – all he has left by now is himself and his duty he proudly continues to fulfil to honour his fallen comrades and his contract with Zhongli – and yet he keeps fighting such a thankless and seemingly endless battle without any complaints or lamenting his cruel fate; if that isn’t kindness then I really don’t know anymore - not to mention that if he truly was an ‘edgelord’ he’d be lamenting his cruel fate or curse at everything for forcing him to live such a life devoid of any warmth and joy – but he doesn’t. Because no one survives thousands of years with a heart full of hatred and no one understands that better than him who has fought against the lingering wrath and hatred of fallen gods. - and while Xiao himself doesn’t believe that he is kind (after all both his hands and soul are stained by blood, he’s nothing more but a weapon or so he would say if someone told him he’s kind) it’s his selfless and devoted nature and his love for the simple things in life – a nice dish of Almond Tofu, flowers, the soft tunes of a flute - that make him such a gentle soul – he just doesn’t realize nor acknowledges that part of himself - so if someone loves him they have to love all the cracks in his soul and try to pour their light into them, be patient with him because it will take him a very long time to get used to all these feelings, to the reassurance that he is loved and also deserves to be loved, after all this is so foreign to him and very likely to frighten him but in return he will love unconditionally and be forever loyal as he is loyal to the land he continues to protect

...and what more could anyone ask for, right?

#xiao #genshin xiao #character analysis #uh it's just my usual brainrot #please don't mind me #i'm a clown #genshin impact

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keerishima · 3 years

Note

HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that?

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?!

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

‘why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

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mutants-and-soldiers · 3 years

Text

The Proposition (Ch. 1)

summary || You've been thinking about Steve's proposal a lot. Part of you wants to decline but a bigger part of you wants what he's offering.

pairing || alpha!Steve x omega!Reader (Past alpha!Bucky x omega!Reader)

word count || 3,706

warnings || A/B/O, eventual smut, therapy talks, kink negotiation, lots of dialogue — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes || I can't get this story out of my head, really! First chapter is all about setting up the smut so I apologize but I believe in talking things out. Thank you to everyone who commented on the first part of the series! I'm going to try and be better about answering comments from here on out! Keep the comments coming, I love hearing from you guys so much!

You can also read it on Ao3. Do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost any of my work, even if you credit me. I always welcome comments and reblogs!

Sequel to Helping Hands: One Two Three Four Five

Divider courtesy of the talented @firefly-graphics

After so many years of going to see Dr. Beta, you were used to the routine when you stepped through the doors. It was late in their work day so you were the only person in the office other than Valarie, the receptionist, who gave you a kind smile. “Good afternoon,” she said, typing something onto her computer. “Dr. Beta’s just about ready.”

“Thanks, Valarie,” you say, setting your bag down to take off your suit.

It had been weird the first time Dr. Beta had demanded you not wear the suit during your sessions. You protested but in the end, she won out. There were a lot of reasons for choosing a female-only office but this was the biggest one. They accommodate you so much just to make you feel welcome and safe in your own skin. It was one of the few places that you could take the suit off and feel comfortable.

The suit was just being zipped up into your bag when the door to the doctor’s office opened. Dr. Beta was a matronly middle aged woman with plenty of laugh lines and crow's feet from years of laughter and joy. She was a kind beta who had done wonders for your mental health and self esteem. Without her, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with the job proposal.

She called your name with a gentle smile, “You ready?”

“Yep,” you smiled, walking over to step into the room. The blinds were closed tight but there were several lamps around the space that allowed a soft light to keep it illuminated. The wooden diffuser was pumping out the soothing smell of lemon and sandalwood. Dr. Beta had always said the lemon helped cut the potency of your powers but you weren’t sure if that was true or if it was something she said to make you feel better.

The two of you settled into your usual spots before the doctor asks, “Anything new since we last saw each other?”

It had been a month since your last session. The milestone of going monthly instead of bi-monthly had been huge for you. There was a time that you saw her weekly, which was when you were at your lowest. You were glad to be where you were.

“Where do I even start?” you laugh, leaning casually back on the leather couch. The cold material felt nice on the bare skin that peeked out from your denim shorts and athletic tank top. “I’ve been meeting regularly with three guys to run with them every Tuesday and Thursday. We also go out for drinks and the game on Sunday.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic!” she gushed, genuinely excited for you. She even sat her clipboard and pen down to lean forward with her elbows on her knees. It was something she only did when you made some kind of...positive choice in your life. The way it made your chest swell with self pride was silly and kind of childish but the woman had always been extra motherly to you. “Clients?”

“One of them was,” you nod, trying to keep the flush of excitement from making you seem too eager. “They’re really nice guys and they invited me to start sparring with them next week after our runs.”

A gentle look crossed the doctor’s face that had you melting. It was a look that she gave when she was proud and the way your name came out of her mouth spoke volumes. “I’m so proud of you,” she said aloud even though you knew it by her body language. “It’s been a long time since you took time for yourself in your personal life. Are they on your level of martial arts?”

“Better!” you said, excited to have a good challenge.

“Better than you?” she laughed, sounding incredulous. “I’d have to see that to believe it!” You join her for the laugh. “Anything else?”

Your mind flutters to a certain blond and his proposition but decide to keep that to yourself for now. It wasn’t good for you to hide secrets from Dr. Beta and you usually didn’t, however, she would definitely encourage you to take him up on the offer. You didn’t think you were ready to come up with reasons (lies) for why you couldn’t do that yet.

“Not really.”

She nods, grabbing her clipboard to flip the paper. “Dr. Noland said you were going to get your heat early this time around. She said you mentioned you might know why?”

Damn it. You forgot how much the two doctors communicated between each other about your health. It was the program you were in and, while amazingly helpful, could be very annoying at times. Case in point, now you need to make a choice on whether to point blank lie to Dr. Beta or just tell the truth. Lying by omission was much more your style.

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigning yourself to the conversation. “The last client I helped had...intense pheromones. I think it may have kicked me into my heat cycle early.”

The doctor’s hazel eyes widened in shock, “Even with the suppressant you took?”

Nodding, you look away for a second. “The client was a super soldier,” you admit, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

Understanding blossomed on her face when she made a guess as to who you were talking about. “Well, that might do it, for sure,” she nodded, making a note. “Still, I’m going to have Dr. Noland change your suppressant just in case it’s not working.”

She stood up, going over to the cabinet behind her desk. She took out a large bottle, tossing it to you, that had heat vitamins in them. Another bottle was thrown your way full of pills specifically for healthy slick production. The last thing she came over with were a few vouchers for omega-centric energy drinks and heat-snacks.

“I know you hate this question but I am legally required to ask,” she chuckles. “Do you have someone you trust to help you through your heat?”

You hesitate. “No.”

Her head snaps up, hazel eyes pinning you to the spot. “You hesitated. You never hesitate,” she points out with far too much excitement. She sets the clipboard down, doing the lean again. “Do you have someone in mind?”

Well, the cat was out of the bag and now you couldn’t lie because she would never believe you now. “I was...propositioned,” you admit, feeling stupidly relieved that you had been honest with her. She had conditioned you so fucking well to feel better when you told the truth as opposed to lying. It had been a ‘bad coping mechanism’ you created during your childhood to gain some control of your otherwise uncontrollable life.

“By one of your new friends?” she asked, already getting the gist of the conversation. “Was it your client?”

“No, not my client but his...best friend,” you whisper, feeling a little embarrassed that you were having this conversation.

Dr. Beta is quiet for a moment, contemplating how to ask the question. “What’s the big deal then? Why not take him up on the offer?”

You cringe. “There are…a lot of reasons but I’m sure you’re going to make them seem like they’re not problems but things I’ve blown up in my mind.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You know your feelings and worries are valid! I just help you see things in a more logical light. I think you should really talk this through with him but...would you like to practice with me?”

You bite your lower lip but give a heavy sigh when you realize there’s still nearly forty minutes left of your time with her. “Fine. It can’t hurt.”

You sat in the booth twitching with your napkin. You and the owner were good friends from back in your academy days so he allowed you to pay a certain amount for the whole rooftop terrace. It meant you could enjoy a meal with someone without having to wear your suit. You also got the same female server every time who knew your situation and didn’t care.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you heard a familiar voice say to your left.

Not really sure why, you stood up when he approached. He was wearing a thin blue zip-up jacket over a blue and white plaid button up shirt that was unbuttoned enough for you to see the white t-shirt he had under it. His jeans were dark and fit far too well around his massive thighs. A plain blue ball cap sat on his head and some fake glasses to help hide his identity. The smile he gave you was enough to make your preheat brain purr.

It took you by surprise when his big arms wrapped you up in a hug that smothered you in his masculine scent. Your hands touched his back, hugging him hesitantly. The squeeze lasted a little longer than you expected, just enough for your head to be perfectly swimming in his pheromones.

You pulled away when he did, allowing him to sit at the far side of the table, facing towards the rest of the area. He had insisted that you come without your suit so it was the least you could do to keep the waitress from noticing his erection.

“It’s okay, I ordered some water for us,” you smile, genuinely happy to see him. It wasn’t often that you saw any of the three men individually. They usually hung out in a pack and you were happy to know that you fit into the group pretty well. “Get whatever you want, Steve. It’s my treat.”

He gave you a look. “I would prefer it if you let me pay.”

Your heart gave a hard thump in your chest. There was something about the way he said it that was just short of a command. You look into his blue eyes, trying to gauge his intent before setting down the menu. “Is this some old-fashioned pride I see leaking through?” you tease, giving him a mischievous grin.

“No, I just figure it was only right that I buy you lunch before helping you with your heat,” he said so casually it made your face heat.

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?!” you laugh loudly.

There is a knowing glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip. “Isn’t that why we’re here? Alone?” he questioned easily, looking up just as Julia came to the table.

“Welcome back,” she greets you, setting two empty glasses and a pitcher of water down on the table. “My name’s Julia.”

“Nice to meet you Julia,” Steve responded with a neutral smile. It caught you a little off guard because it...definitely wasn’t the smile he gave you. Was it just part of his disguise?

You both ordered a beer and your entrees. It wasn’t until Julia walked away that you focused back on the alpha across from you. He was already looking at you with an intense expression. You feel like he’s basically prying into your soul.

“I...spoke with my therapist yesterday and…” you start, finding it very hard to talk about this kind of thing. It was so easy to soothe your clients but so hard to give yourself a break. “She...convinced me to talk with you about my...worries.”

His expression softens a bit. “I’m willing to work with you,” he soothes, reaching out to take your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and solid. “Tell me everything.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not afraid of hurting you,” you blurt out. “You can take me even on your worst day. I’m...embarrassed to count myself among the small population of omegas that go...feral during their heat. I...fight my partner. Dr. Beta says it's because of the trauma I experienced. Trauma doesn't just disappear during heat...it gets worse. I’m just not the usual kind of docile omega that society seems to exemplify.”

He looks up to alert you that Julia was returning with your drinks. He didn’t speak until she was back inside the building. “Truthfully, I’m actually more intrigued than put off by the notion,” he finally said after taking a sip of his beer. “Do you fight the whole time or just in the beginning?”

It wasn’t a line of questioning that you expected so you gaped at him like a fish out of water for a few seconds before finding your words. “I don’t...know,” you admit sheepishly, sipping your hard cider. “I’ve only been with one alpha during my heat and he had to go to the hospital a few hours into it.”

Something dark and tempting flashed through the blond’s eyes. “How do you feel about restraints?”

Your core throbbed at the simple question. It probably showed on your face because his smile started to widen in understanding. “Yes, that’s fine,” you breathe, trying not to think too hard about the implications.

“Would you prefer to do this at your house or in my suite?” he asked as if you had already agreed to the whole thing.

Your mind screamed at you to say decline. It was dangerous and there were so many things that could go wrong. Your omega brain though had already bought into the whole thing. You wanted this big, powerful alpha to hold you down and take you in the most forceful of ways. You wanted him to restrain you to your nest and have his way with you until the heat fog cleared.

“Wait, wait,” you say, trying to finish your thoughts before deciding anything. “I’m serious when I say I’m insatiable. I don’t have any refractory period between one wave and the next.”

Julia opens the door, alerting you both that she was coming out with food. You both wait until everything is set and she walks away before continuing. The food smells delicious so you grab the burger and bite into it. You always craved red meat before your heat so when the flavors burst across your taste buds, you hum in appreciation.

Steve took a few bites of his own meal before responding. “The super soldier serum makes it so I don’t have any refractory period,” he shrugs casually with a smile. “I’ve never met someone who could keep up with me so...I’m interested to see if you can. Any other worries?”

Heat blossoms across your cheek and in your chest. “I don’t want our friendship to be jeopardized,” you finally admit after finishing half of your burger. You grab some of the fries and eat them while thinking.

“Did helping Bucky keep you from being friends with him?”

“No, of course not,” you sigh, running out of excuses. Dr. Beta had been right, talking with him had definitely made you a little more comfortable with the idea. “Fine, okay, I accept your offer.”

“My place or yours?” he asks with a genuine smile.

You mull over the question for a bit before shrugging. “I have all of my nesting supplies at my house so we can do it at mine,” you chuckle, feeling a little nervous but excited too.

He nods. “Do I need to bring any supplies? Snacks or drinks?”

The two of you continue talking about the logistics of your heat while you finish the food. It makes you feel a lot better knowing you wouldn’t have to go through with it alone. You had already taken the initiative to send a message to all of your clients to let them know you would be out for your heat. You even went ahead and took an extra week just for yourself.

After you pay and you have your layers back on, the two of you stand outside the doors to the restaurant. You don’t want to leave him, truthfully. He smelt so good and you were so close to your heat that it was hard to separate from him. “Thanks for talking with me,” you smile despite the bonnet covering everything but your eyes. “I’ll give you a text when I’m ready.”

“Of course, thanks for lunch,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead through the layers. “Here, take this for your nest.”

He shucked his jacket and offered it. Your hand reaches out to take it slowly. “Thanks but this might just push me into it faster,” you laugh brightly, holding the large jacket close to your chest. You could smell the scent of him even through all of your layers. It made your head foggy.

“That’s the idea,” he smirked, turning towards the tower with a wave. “Just let me know when you want me to come over.”

You watch him walk away, eyes lingering on the way his biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt and down until you stared at his toned ass in those jeans. It was obvious how close you were to your heat when sweat started to form along your temples and slick started to dampen your panties.

Once you got back home, you arranged your snacks and vitamins on the counter so they were easy for Steve to find. He might need to feed you for the first few waves because you weren’t sure if you’d be coherent or not. Then you went into your extra bedroom that you used for your heats and started getting it ready.

You pulled out all of your slick-resistant pillows, cushions and blankets from the closet to make a nest on your king sized bed. It was a nice four post bed that had your mind in dark places. All you could think about was being restrained with cuffs around one of those posts while Steve fucked into you.

It didn’t take long before you needed a pad for all of the fucking slick that was making everything so annoying. The nest took a lot longer that you would like to admit because it just didn’t seem...right. You’d never had this kind of issue before but your omega brain wanted Steve to be comfortable and happy too.

Looking back at the closet, you debated on whether or not you wanted to pull out the box of toys. You weren’t sure if Steve would want them or need them or…

“Fuck it,” you mutter, grabbing your phone to send the alpha a quick text. Toys or no toys?

You were adding his jacket to your nest when your phone vibrated in your pocket. Instead of the one or two word answer that you expected, it was...something else.

Definitely toys. I’ll enjoy teasing you until you’re begging for my knot.

Fuckin’ hell! Was this the same blond with the surprisingly boyish face that you had met during lunch today? The same guy that Sam teased about being an old virgin?

You didn’t think the pad was going to hold up to all of the slick that gush from you at the text. How does one respond to a text like that? You grabbed out the delicate pink box out of the closet, wincing at the color because it was the only color that the shop had to store your toys. Omegas were feminine right?! They liked pink, right?!

Laughing at yourself, you set the box on the little table in the room. You opened the lid and set it to the side so you could look at your assortment of toys. It was a collection you started when your first heat hit you at sixteen. You had been a late bloomer because of your constant martial arts training, which stilted your omega hormones.

It had all the necessities and even some extras. You had your typical knot dildo, a vibrator, a clit vibe, a few different types of condoms for when you weren’t in your heat, a bottle of lube that encouraged slick production, a bottle of regular lube, and a few different sized anal plugs. The last few were just because you enjoyed the feeling of being full when having sex.

Quickly you took a picture of the box and sent it to Steve as a reply. It was the best you could come up with. You had never really been good at those kinds of things. Well, you’d never had someone try and sext you.

Happy that everything was prepared, you cuddled under your fuzzy blanket in your nest. Comfort flooded through you as you nuzzled into the man’s jacket, deeply taking in his scent. It was nice and musky and made you feel warm and safe.

The phone buzzed. You’re okay with anal during your heat?

Your pheromone idled brain made you giggle, “Consent is important,” before you could text him back. Yes, I like being stuffed full.

It didn’t even register how inappropriate the text sounded before you hit send. You were obviously a lot further along than you had previously thought. The subtle throb of your core was starting to get worse but you weren’t too far gone to see his last text.

Good to know. Get some rest. Need me to come out and check on you before dark?

You groaned as a cramp hit your pelvis, slick becoming an issue. It simultaneously hurt and felt good. You were so distracted that you couldn’t answer the text message. Everything was suddenly too hot so you threw off your clothing, slipping your hand down to brush against your clit. It was already so sensitive it hurt but you needed relief.

It wasn’t enough and you knew that it would be futile to try and get yourself off with just your fingers but your brain wasn’t working. You groaned helplessly as the lackluster orgasm washed over you. It wasn’t enough, so frustratingly not enough. Sweat dripped down your cheek from your hairline making you kick off the blanket so you could turn over.

You didn’t care how it looked with your ass up because the scent of Steve on the jacket helped clear your head a little. It made your core throb but it also helped you become coherent. Enough so that you grabbed the phone and typed in a one word response that only said:

Now.

Credits for the pictures in Moodboard:

Unsplash photographers:

1. Kelly Sikkema

2. Vulkan Olmez

3. Toa Heftiba

Like, comment and reblogs are always welcome! Thanks for reading!

#a/b/o verse #alpha!steve x omega!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #eventual smut #kink negotiation #therapy #mutants #fanfiction

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miraculous-trinity-leo · 3 years

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Ok so... I know I already have a fic going on right now, But... me writing Harley and Ivy as moms/parents to Marinette got me thinking about other fics I could write, so hear me out.

Either Harley or Ivy as Marinettes bio mom... (or both due to a crazy person's experiment...) it will also be a Damianette fic so yeah.

Ok, here are the options:

A. Harley is with Joker... they have a 'special' night or something, and then Joker tried to kill Harley for the something-ith time, and she finally leaves him thanks to Ivy. Ivy and Harley have been friends for a little over 3 years, and Harley may have started feeling happier around Ivy for awhile, and only realized after being free of the Joker that she really loves Ivy, and they start dating like a week or so after that realization.

After some time Harley will wake up with morning sickness, she gets cranky not wanting to go to the docter, but they go anyway, and that's when she finds out she's pregnant. They get back and Harley is in and out of horror, excitement, and all the weird moods a soon to be mother goes through. After a talk with Ivy, they decide to keep the child, and then Marie Quinzel-Isley is born 8 months later. She will still have midnight hair and stunning vibrant light blue eyes, and she'll grow up learning tricks like slight of hand, gymnastics stuff, self-defense, the proper technique to use a bat, and the other usual child of rogues things... (like love for the environment, and extremely exotic pets...).

B. Harley is long over the Joker, and is with Ivy, they are known for their environment protectiveness, and the occasional theft thanks to something Selina drags them into. During two separate occasions, one with Harley getting kidnapped, and then like a week later Ivy, some villain gets their blood, and fusses both their blood, and with plot magic and unknown science, they create a child, when the vilian steels some sort of plant Ivy really loves (and can enhance the baby's meta-powers) Ivy and Harley stumble in on the villian preparing to give the baby some sort of weird something in a needle, they beat the life out of him, asking what the hell he's doing with some random kid. said villian will then tell them it's not just any random child, it's your child (insert some crazy laugh) he gets beat up more, because wtf? who makes a baby out of people's DNA without their consent?(ehem, Talia ehem!!)... anyway they see this child, and it just so happens that in the moment, the baby opens her eyes, and they fall in love with her, effectively keeping her and naming her Mary Quinzel-Isley.

Now for her powers:

For option A. She can just be born with abilities that are a good chunk above the average person. She will learn how to fight with anything and everything, and will be great at reading people.

For option B. She can have both above average physical abilities, and plant manipulation/communication, and will still be good at reading people to some extent. She will learn how to use anything to fight, and will be a little chaoticly creative ball of joy to be around.

and for either option she can also learn magic and stuff, or just have a natural affinity for it, and is also taught by the Riddler so she can kick butt and Riddle me the f-ck out of anyone.

Now on to the Miraculous part, which can be in either option A or B:

Marinette will spend most of her life in Gotham until the Bats start getting a little to curious as to why a mini Harley/Ivy is running around fighting both wannabe villians and on occasion some Teen Titans hero (Beastboy, they become buds after she kicks his butt for the 10th time. and will later be friends with Raven). Selina is also dating Batman so when Selina tells them the Bat is looking for Marinette, she gets stuck with taking care of Marinette until the heat dies down. So when Marinette is 10 she and her Antie Selina go to Paris, where family friends of Selina own a small yet wonderful bakery. Marinette is then introduced to Tom and Sabine, she later meets a crazy girl that lives on her skates named Alix Kubdel and they become friends, since she is kinda board with the school system there, she starts to take up hobbies, like Sewing, more gymnastics, and fencing, where she meets and befriends Kagami Tsurugi. The three are joint at the hip, and are always daring each other to do stupid and or silly things. Marinette always goes back to Gotham on both summer and winter break, but is alsmot never allowed to go out just in case the Bats find her... (almost) she sneeks out sometimes to hang out with Beastboy to see how he and the Titans are doing.

When Marinette is 12 thats when things get a little weird... as in she starts feeling extremely creative/(more)Chaotic at the same time when she's doing something. During one of her Creative/Chaotic moods/feelings she goes out for a walk, noticing a man that fell in the middle of the road, she instantly goes to help him up, leading him to the sidewalk. When she handed the man his cain, she gets a VERY sudden feeling of power, when she looks the man in the face she sees he is also slightly shocked. She wished him well and darted back to her house not looking back at the shocked man. on the way back she starts seeing things... like seeing the dark thoughts of everyone around her, as well as their life energy/force it overwhelms her, and when she gets back to the Bakery where her and Selina are staying she quickly greets everyone and goes to her room. She thought her room would be safe from the weird energy she was seeing but no. There on her desk would be a small box of either Chaotic energy or Creative energy (I'll let you decide which Kwami She gets, 🐞 for Tikki, and 🐈‍⬛ for Plagg(if you choose Plagg Selina will be happy, and Plagg will cackle with Marinettes' mom Harley...just saying)) anyway, she doesn't touch the box until the next day, most of the weird energy looking stuff is gone except for whats surrounding the small box. The Stone heart thing will still happen, (I can see either Alix or Kagami weilding Tikki, but more Kagami. Alix can still get Fluff if she doesn't get Tikki, but I'm not sure what Adrien will get in the future... Maybe Roar(So he's still a Catboy, or Tiger boy)) So they'll face Stone heart and so on, the rest of spring is crazy, she quickly realizes the old man was the one who gave her the box, found out where he was (due to the crazy energy around his shop, which for convenience is maybe 15 or so blocks away from the Bakery). She has a talk with him and tells him she leaves Paris every summer and winter break, and is then given Kaalki... (permanently bc... plot, and bc she is a special f-cking girl that could rule the whole world if she willed it damit!). So she becomes a hero, and she blows it during her visit to Gotham, and ends up telling her moms and antie about the tiny cat god ("OMG Kitten! I knew it!No wonder you started using more Cat puns around me!" - Selina at some point) and the tiny horse god ("Dey're so f-ckin' cute!" - Harley) So more shenanigans ensue.

•—–·★·–—

So these are my Ideas for a Harley and or Ivy Bio moms to Marinette fic, please let me know whether you want option A. or B., whether you want Marinette to have either Tikki🐞 or Plagg🐈‍⬛, and whether you want her to be called Marie, Mary or just Marinette Quinzel-Isley. Hope you're all having a wonderful day, stay safe, and saty positive. !BUG-OUT! 🐞💮🐞

#Harley Quin Bio mom #harley and ivy #maribat #fic ideas #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damimari #damianette #maridami #chaotic marinette #badass marinette #maribat fic idea #maribat fic

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romioneficfest · 3 years

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A Practical Stranger

Title: A Practical Stranger

Prompt/Day: Day 10 Movie/Book/TV Fusion (Grey's Anatomy - Season 5, Episode 1 "Dream a Little Dream of Me") and Day 14 Different Hogwarts Houses

Tumblr Name:

Rating: T

Brief summary: Hermione receives assistance from someone who may not be as much of a stranger to her as she initially thinks.

Any possible triggering/warning tags: Mild language, graphic depiction of an injury

Hermione Granger strives for perfection in all aspects of her life. She prides herself in having been at the top of her Ravenclaw class at Hogwarts, and now an experienced and competent Healer at St. Mungo's.

She approaches healing magic like she did school; theoretical and by-the-book, not often straying away from wizarding methods that don’t have factual evidence behind it.

She doesn't consider herself to be an emotionally cold person — despite having colleagues describe her that way — but she also isn’t one to devote time developing personal relationships with her patients.

It's mid-January as she steps just outside of the hospital doors for some fresh air during a particularly stressful evening, and her lime-green robes fail to keep her from going numb in the cold. As Hermione reaches for her wand to cast a warming charm, her feet slip on a patch of ice beneath her shoe, sending her crashing back onto the solid, snowy pavement.

Hermione grunts in pain as she rubs the side of her head. It’s a bad day that has somehow gotten worse, and the forecast for improvement isn't faring well.

Try to focus on something calming.

Hermione’s eyes land on spikes of ice hanging above her. Little droplets of water fall from the tip of the centermost icicle onto her face. She's transfixed by the jagged, crystallized surface, combined with its pyramidal shape and transparent color.

A soft cracking sound shifts her attention, and she sees the icicle breaking free from its position. Before she can even move, the needle-sharp edge plunges down and punctures her straight through the stomach. A sharp pain ripples through her body and the intensity of the wound feels like a cold flame burning her nerve endings. The sensation numbs her to her core, stilling all movement, like she's just been petrified.

When she finally remembers to breathe, she sucks in a strangled gasp of air. Panic sets in as she realizes how difficult it is for her to breathe or even speak. Her hand flails through the white snow, searching for her wand that has somehow left her pocket.

Help. I need help, quick.

In the next moment, a tall, dark figure looms above her, and she wants to scream, but no sound comes out. All she can think about is the throbbing pain.

She barely registers her body being elevated up into the air. The unknown man hooks an arm under her knees and carries her at a swift pace into the hospital.

His ginger hair and ocean blue eyes strike her with a sense of familiarity, and she wonders if they've ever met before.

It only takes her another second before she realizes — of course.

Ron Weasley. Gryffindor.

She knows of him from her time at Hogwarts and has certainly heard the stories of his escapades over the years with Harry Potter.

And yet, he's much different than she remembers from Hogwarts. She recalls him always being tall and lanky. Now, he has the strong build of an Auror, and the thought alone makes her cheeks redden.

A loud commotion and flurry of movement around her disrupts her inner thoughts, and she can see she is now in a full room with other Healers and Mediwizards.

"What happened?" She vaguely hears another witch call out.

"Just take it out," she moans as loud as she can muster. All she can think about is the pain and how she needs it to end.

"Leave it in!" Ron's stern voice demands beside her.

Hermione lets out the smallest of tuts, unimpressed by his attempt to call the spells when he is certainly not in the field of medicine. "Take it out!"

Ron's eyes lock on hers, and for a moment, she forgets that she's just been stabbed. Instead, the intensity of his gaze blinds her, and his clipped tone cuts through her just like the chip of ice did. "Leave it in."

Hermione decides she doesn't have the strength to argue further.

Ron speaks towards the Healers at a frustratingly low volume, and she grows concerned when they all shuffle out of the room, leaving her alone with the man who has flaming hair and a matching attitude.

"So, Hermione Granger."

"Ron Weasley."

His eyes brighten in surprise. "She recognizes me."

"It's not hard," Hermione shrugs, wincing as she tries to sit herself up on her cot without jostling the melting icicle. "Your red hair sticks out like a dirigible plum. What are you, an Auror, now?"

A small smile plays on his lips. "Something like that."

His cool tone sends a wave of heat through her body, and she doesn't think she can attribute it to her current puncture wound.

Hermione's trusty assistant-Healer, James, pops his head through the door. "Miss Granger, is everything alright—"

"Go find my chart," Hermione snaps at the young wizard. "I'll need to see a list of recommendations before I can allow anyone to proceed with any form of treatment."

He scrambles out the door just as fast, and Hermione turns her head to see Ron sending her an incredulous look with his eyebrows raised.

"What?"

"He seems pretty scared of you."

"I am not scary!"

Ron takes a step forward, then another, and then another. The pace of her heartbeat picks up, and she chastises herself for allowing this man to control her bodily reactions.

"What are you doing?" Her breath is shaky and uneven.

Ron leans closer, so close that she smells the aftershave from his chin stubble. He's gazing at her like he's about to...

Just as fast, Ron yanks the icicle from her belly, resulting in a piercing screech from Hermione's lips. Ron flourishes his wand, and Hermione gazes at her stomach in awe as her wound grows smaller and smaller. The traces of fresh blood start to disappear, and the pain dissipates.

"What-you-just—"

"Took out your icicle? Yeah, I did."

Now that she is free of any pain aside from a dull headache, Hermione clenches her fists together out of anger. "Nobody gave you permission to do that!"

"So?"

"But you're not a—"

"Healer?" Ron finishes her thought with a knowing glance. "You know, our professions aren't so different. We both do what we can every day to save lives. It's not about being the best, or having the best marks in school. It's about the people."

Hermione closes her mouth, processing Ron's words. It's like he knows that other colleagues have gone around saying that Hermione has a "hairy heart" — cold and unfeeling.

"You needed my help, and that's what I do. That's what you do. We help people." Ron steps back, choosing instead to sit on the edge of her cot. "So, you're welcome."

Hermione chews on the inside of her lip, contemplating how to save herself from this embarrassing situation.

"You know, you're pretty tough," Ron continues.

Hermione scoffs, pushing her head back into her pillow. "I assure you, I am not."

"Really? Cause I think getting stabbed by an icicle, and still having the energy to yell at people, makes you a bloody badass."

Hermione's eyes go round from Ron's profanity. "A bloody…"

A teasing grin splits across his face. "Oh, don't tell me you're afraid to curse, Miss Granger."

"I am not!"

Ron crosses his arms, arching an eyebrow. "Then prove it. Say you're a bloody badass."

"I—"

Her hesitation only eggs him on further. "Do it."

One deep breath later, Hermione shouts out, "I'm a bloody badass!"

His pearly whites shine through, and Hermione finds the joy etched on his features. "Didn't it give you a rush of adrenaline?"

One exaggerated eye roll later, and Hermione mumbles, "Sure, it did."

"You know, Hermione, you could've been in Gryffindor."

Hermione pivots her head with piqued interest. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're brave, for one." Is that a blush she sees on his cheeks? Ron points to the faint outline on her stomach. "You've even got your own battle scar now to prove how tough you are!"

She has never thought of herself as brave, or courageous, or bold enough for that house. But now...

She's distracted by the sound of Ron's wand clicking the lock on the door. Her mouth opens to ask what in Merlin's name he's doing, when she's silenced by his lips on hers.

A startled gasp escapes her mouth, but she finds herself melting into his embrace, letting all rational thoughts leave her brain.

At the start of her work shift, she would've never guessed that she would end it recovering from a severe trauma while also kissing a practical stranger — yet, kissing him didn't feel unnatural at all.

When he pulls away, leaving her flushed dizzy, Hermione exclaims, "I barely even know you!"

Ron Weasley only responds with a challenging smirk and a single word. "So?"

#hpfic #romione ficfest 2021 #Romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #Rated T #Ace Safe #cw #cw: traumatic injury #Queue up for the Dragon

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iliumheightnights · 3 years

Text

We have a jedi [22] | Peter Parker x Male Reader

Fandom: Marvel, Star Wars

Pairings: Peter Parker x male reader, Tony Stark x son reader

Summary: Thanos was successful in using the infinity stones, yet here M/n is. Now it’s time to see what remains and pick up the pieces.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

…..

And I...am Ironman.

When (M/n) opened his eyes, he opened them to the stars.

For a long time, (M/n) laid on his back staring up at the endlessness of space. The stars gave him comfort as his mind was still swirling. What happened? Where was he? Then it all came rushing back to him. Mandalore, Kren, Thanos, ashes....Peter.

Sitting up he expected to see the rest of Mandalore around him, or at least A planet. But to his surprise he only saw more space. Space and the familiar white markings that he had seen before. The world between worlds.

The force is a conduit. Made up of all living things.

He could hear voices of many people surrounding him. Some he recognized, others he didn’t. Some were things he had heard, others not. He wondered if these were his memories...or things yet to be said.

“(M/n)?”

That voice wasn’t like the others. That one sounded...closer. Much closer. It was also a voice he recognized but was different. Turning his head, he saw a young Mirialan woman. While she might have grown a bit (M/N) would recognize his friend anywhere.

“Sheyo? You look-”

“Oh don’t you give me that crap (M/n), I don’t need you calling me old now.” She laughed and helped get him off the ground. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Why? And why are you-”

“Old? Well that’s what happens when you grow up.”

“But-”

“(M/n), you’ve been gone for seven years.”

He stopped any sort of questioning. Just taking in and absorbing the knowledge of what he had just learned. “Seven years? But- how? I was just fighting on Mandalore and-” He shook his head as a voice spoke around them. It didn’t come from Sheyo.

We are all one.

The Force. Looking around (M/n) took another look at where he was. The world between worlds, that’s how he missed seven years. The world between worlds was outside of time and space, and Sheyo had just pulled him from what most certainly would have been his death.

“Come on. We should go. I have a feeling that someone or something else is trying to get here. The longer we stay the easier it is for whatever.”

The sound of thunder boomed in the distance shaking both of them. Who knew what was coming but neither wanted to stick around to find out. (M/n) followed Sheyo, for she looked like she knew where she was going.

“So seven years...what have I missed?”

Sheyo snorted. “A lot. Half the universe...just gone. The people call it the decimation, the avengers call it the snap. Afterwards people tried to pick up the pieces...the Republic and Empire, at least what remained, blamed each other of course and kicked up the war. The sith ended up fighting each other and pretty much killed each other. The jedi...the jedi are pretty much gone now.”

(M/n) could feel the sadness in her voice and in her heart. Even he couldn’t help but feel sad. He grew up amongst the jedi and now it was just gone? How did things change so much?

“What about my mom and dad? Are they okay?” He asked her. She stopped and turned to him.

“Tony’s alright. He tried to stop Thanos before but...couldn’t.” Then she averted her eyes. “Master Janai is gone. One of the jedi taken, I’m sorry (M/n).”

(M/n) felt his heart fall a bit. Sure he and his mother had a bit of a rocky patch there...but it was nothing that shook his love for her. Now she was gone. But...but his dad was still alive. He would get back to him. Then (M/n) ran his hand across his sash realizing something.

“Peter. What about Peter Parker? You remember him right Sheyo? What happened to him?” He already knew the answer, he just didn’t want to admit it. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Peter was alive.

But the look in Sheyo’s eyes broke that hope. “I’m sorry (M/n).

(M/N) quickly wiped his eyes of the tears. “Its...we can’t stay. Let’s keep going.” The sound of thunder could be heard again and soon lighting seemed to strike. “Now.”

Sheyo and him took off running. Both could feel they were overstaying their welcome. The thunder and lightning continued to grow rapidly.

I am eternal.

Whose voice was that? (M/n) had never heard that before. It was cold, it was dark, it was sinister.

It was hatred incarnate.

“Hurry! This one!”

Sheyo ran towards a portal that...seemed to have his dad’s arc reactor on it. She jumped through and (M/n) followed her. When he landed on his feet, he could feel that he was no longer in the world between worlds. Looking up he knew exactly where he was...the Jedi temple back on earth. The one he had found T3.

However (M/n) felt...terrible. It was like there was a large void in the force. He grabbed his stomach feeling like at any moment it would fall out. Sheyo must have taken notice for she quickly put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I should have warned you.” He waved her off. “I just...need to adjust.”

She nodded and took her hand away from him. “Yeah...yeah okay. Just remember you’ll be okay.”

While Sheyo was a comfortable and familiar presence, there was something else that was familiar and brought him joy. Bwoo? T3. Looking up he saw the little droid wheel towards him. As the droid caught sight of him, it danced in its place. Bwwweeeepp!

“T3!” With a smile, (M/n) could feel his energy pouring back into him as he ran to his old companion. “Oh buddy. Sorry I’ve been gone for so long.”

Bwoop Bweep?

“No I didn’t die. It’s...a long story.”

Bwoop.

(M/n) turned and saw Sheyo staring at the mural. The same mural he had been attached to the first time he came.

“The father, son and daughter. The ones.” He said on relex. He had learned more about them during his time in the jedi temple but not much was known about them.

Sheyo smirked. “Good you remember. This mural is one of the portals to the world between worlds.” She brought her hand up and focused, soon the mural illuminated and moved. Then the light died down and the children had become submissive to the father. “There. It’s closed now. No one will be able to come through without having to reopen it.”

Sheyo wiped her hand and gestured for him and T3 to follow her. As they were walking through the temple, (M/n) couldn’t help but think of the first time he was there with the avengers. Who was left? His father was alive, but Peter wasn’t. Who else of his family had been taken from him?

Exiting the front entrance to the temple he saw a republic shuttle. (M/n) also noticed how the world seemed...sad. The sky was grey and the temperature was cold. This was a world in mourning...in mourning for seven years. T3 beeped and rolled up the ramp of the shuttle, Sheyo stopped at the ramp and turned back to him.

“Are you ready? Ready to go home?” She said with a smile.

Home. He was going home. Or whatever was left of it anyways.

“Without a doubt.”

The shuttle ride was...quiet to say the least. When the shuttle flew over New York City, (M/n) couldn’t help but see and feel just how different life was now. Before when he was in New York, it was beautiful. It was colorful and filled with life. Now as they flew over, it was dark and grey, cold and empty

“It’s so...depressing.”

Sheyo nodded. “It’s so strange. Here the largest city looks empty, but on coruscant it’s almost like nothing happened. I guess...the galaxy moves on.”

“It shouldn’t have to.”

It took a bit longer but eventually the shuttle left New York City and entered the forests of the state. (M/N) noticed how it was a stark contrast to how it was like in the city, the forests were still living, breathing, regrowing. Eventually Sheyo sat down the shuttle.

“T3 and I will stay here. This should be your time.”

(M/n) nodded and walked down the ramp. Leaving the shuttle, he saw the forests around him but noticed how there was a house not far from him. Walking towards the house, he saw how it was by a large lake and the force seemed to be swirling around this place.

The door of the house opened and (M/n) watched as his dad walked out holding a platter of sandwiches carrying them to a table. “Lunch!” He stopped walking to take in the sight, there he was, his dad. Tony hadn’t seemed to have changed much except now his hair had a bit of grey in it and his eyes held a bit of sadness in them.

The door opened again and (M/n) almost lost his breath at the sight. There was Steve, not in his cap suit but in regular civilian clothing holding a boy in his arms. He didn’t even need to ask any questions to know what happened with them. It was obvious they finally got together...and had a kid now.

As the three of them went to have their lunch, the boy caught sight of (M/n).

“Daddy who’s that?”

Tony and Steve both followed where the boy’s finger was pointing, directly at him.

Tony’s eyes met his and in that moment, that’s what made (M/n) realize, he had been gone for seven years. Tony slowly left the porch and began walking to him before stopping as if he was seeing a ghost. In a way he was.

“H-hi dad.”

Tony’s eyes filled with tears and he quickly pulled his son in for a hug. (M/n) held onto him just as tight. It hadn’t been long for (M/n) but touching his dad and smelling his cologne was a welcome feeling to him.

“W-how?”

“It’s a long story. Hope you don’t mind me staying a bit.”

Tony chuckled and shook his head. “No. Please, I don’t want you to ever leave again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

...

A/N: How you guys doing? Hope y’all are loving it so far. It took me a bit to get this one out but hopefully it was worth it. We’re about to go into major AU territory now.

#we have a jedi #whaj #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tony stark x male reader #tony stark x male!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x son reader #tony stark x son!reader

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uomo-accattivante · 3 years

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Great comprehensive interview with Elvira on the making of The Letter Room and filmmaking, in general. One interesting tidbit mentioned: she is currently developing a podcast about sex. 👀🤔

For most of her creative life, Elvira Lind has been behind the the lens compassionately capturing true stories as a documentary filmmaker. Her debut feature, Songs for Alexis, observes two young lovebirds navigating a long distance relationship and challenging views on gender identity in the modern age. While her sophomore feature, Bobbi Jenne, explores the life of a famous dancer fighting for her own creative and personal independence.

Despite her prolific doc work, a story that couldn't simply be told in its raw form kept circulating in her head: a dark prison comedy about the secret life of a correctional officer trying to bring humanity to the prison system. When he gets transferred to a job in the letter room, he finds himself a little too involved in the private lives of the inmates.

Far along in her second pregnancy, and with the support of an incredible team of collaborators, Elvira took on the challenge of writing and directing her first narrative short, "The Letter Room." The film stars Oscar Isaac and Alia Shawkat, and has had an all-star festival run, screening at Telluride, Tribeca, and the Palm Springs International Film Festival. Here, Elvira reflects on the joys and challenges of creating your first short film—putting empathy first, reshaping the tropes around pregnancy, and screening in the COVID era.

vimeo

FTW: How did you become a filmmaker?

Elvira Lind: I’ve always loved film. I was very drawn to documentaries because it felt like you were entering something that was really happening. You opened a door and were already inside the film. You’re just trying to keep up with what’s being thrown at you. As opposed to fiction where you have to conjure it up from nowhere. I loved imagining and writing stories when I was little, but I didn’t have the confidence to pursue it.

I didn’t come from a family of filmmakers. And I came from a time when people had a little shitty camcorder that you borrowed from someone’s uncle, and buying film was expensive. Things opened up and changed a lot when cameras became more accessible.

I could only afford one year of film school in Cape Town, where I met some amazing people and learned about so many different ways of storytelling. I came back to Denmark and found myself working for free a lot for other filmmakers while doing a side job. The paid work was very hard to get, but I’d rather work for free with filmmakers that I loved and have more responsibilities than have access to nothing. It wasn’t easy to find my way in, but it’s so worth it.

And now you live in New York. How does this global background affect your general filmmaking style and approach?

I definitely bring a lot of Danish documentary traditions with me and hold it very dear. There are a lot of kick ass female documentary filmmakers in Denmark that have taught me a lot. There’s a good support system for women there. It’s an incredibly privileged place in that there’s funding from the government to make films. You can make things that, in my opinion, are often far more interesting because it’s not reliant on how it’s going to make money in the box office.

You’ve shot many of your documentaries in the past. So what was it like this time to be working with a cinematographer?

I always wanted to work with a cinematographer on my documentaries; we just couldn’t afford it. Now for “The Letter Room”, I worked with Sam Chase, who has got such a brilliant eye and it was wonderful to have someone to work with on composing the look of the film because I’m usually doing it by myself. It is kind of like a marriage. I work with the same editor on all my projects as well. You enter this symbiotic sort of dance together. For me, it also means you have to fight about things and disagree and then make up and hear each other out. My editor, Adam Nielsen, is the kind of guy who just comes up with genius ideas while in the shower or on the way home from work on his bicycle. You have to find these key people in your life where you can bounce ideas back and forth with.

Where did the idea for “The Letter Room” come from?

It was a story that was brewing in my head for a long time, but I wasn’t sure how to put a narrative film together. I just started to write it down and then it kept developing.

There was a podcast that I listened to that really inspired me. It told the story of different men who were all unknowingly writing love letters to the same woman. She started to ask for money and help with rent, but the letters she wrote were so wonderful and all these men were very in love with her. These very lonely men felt like magic had entered their lives. They all eventually found out that the woman was actually a man writing to different people trying to get their money. They were all heartbroken, but one of the men said that the worst part was losing these letters and that the fantasy was gone. He wished they could just keep writing to each other. So much of life is fantasy and trying to live through other people’s lives. I’m very drawn to stories of loneliness and bottled up feelings.

And then I am firmly against the American prison system. It’s heartbreaking, frustrating, and I can’t make sense of it. How do you even begin to explain this system to a child?

It’s a society that doesn’t care about humanity. I wanted to show the monotony, the repetition, the sadness. I don’t see the bigger goal or purpose of locking people away for countless years and taking away all the things that makes you feel human, that makes life joyous. I really believe that we can all change and this system teaches people nothing. “The Letter Room'' is the combination of these two concepts that I’m very passionate about.

And then I got pregnant for the second time and I hadn’t made a film between the two. It was a crazy feeling to be taken over again by pregnancy. A wonderful friend of mine, Sofia Sondervan-Bild, came to me and said, “I think you should make this film and I’ll make it with you.” Initially, I freaked out and thought I didn’t know how to do fiction and doubted how I could make a film in a prison, but she inspired me and told me to do it. She’s just one of these incredibly powerful people that you want to go on an adventure with. She made me feel like my pregnancy wasn’t going to stand in the way of me making this film. We ended up shooting while I was far along in my pregnancy in a prison in the middle of a summer heat wave. It was crazy, but it was the best thing that I could’ve done at the time.

When you were directing on set at that stage of pregnancy, did you feel like you were reshaping tropes of what women are capable of?

It was insane. The funny thing was that the crew was like, “we can’t complain that we are tired because she is extremely pregnant and still running around.” I was so high off of that experience. When we finished, I collapsed. I fell straight onto the couch and then I have a two and a half year old screaming my name. That was more work for me than directing the short. I edited the film right before I gave birth actually, and then I gave birth and did sound right after. I was pumping breast milk in the corner in the darkness during the sound edit.

I’ve learned a lot from surpassing whatever I thought was physically possible with being pregnant. I learned that being in a creative process gives you so much energy that it allows you to be in whatever shape, size, form, mental space you can. People are ready to give you their support, if you choose the right people. I’m really grateful that I chose such wonderful collaborators who supported me through it all. Even when people were questioning my choice to direct a film while being pregnant in a prison. Why not? Women get pregnant and then we still need to be supported so that we can continue to make the things we want to do.

What was your experience with getting “The Letter Room” funded?

It’s really hard, let’s be honest. There aren’t a lot of people sitting around waiting to fund a short film. We ended up working with Topic, which is a part of First Look Media. They are just incredible and really support filmmakers with whatever their vision is. I’ve had great experiences and some really bad experiences with funding, so I know this was an ideal scenario.

Having a short that is over 30 minutes long seems like a feat. At what stage in the process did you know this was going to be a longer piece? And how did that decision affect the shoot in both positive and difficult ways?

It was way too long at first, and when I shortened it, it was still 32 minutes. We could only afford five days of shooting, and a lot of it is shot on active prison grounds, which have an insane amount of protocol. We almost used everything we shot.

I’m not used to being able to have different angles to choose from in my doc work, so I think I just knew exactly what I wanted. I know that my producers were worried that I wasn’t getting enough, but to me, I was like, I’m getting double of what I usually get on a documentary! Everyone was quietly concerned, but everything worked out when we got to the edit.

The short’s length hasn’t done any favors for me so far, but you need to breathe as an audience, you need to pace it out. If I cut out certain minutes, it would’ve felt rushed and you wouldn’t have believed the arcs that the characters had.

I loved the concept of placing a very empathetic character in a setting that is contrary to that personality type. You included so many details that made the world feel so three dimensional and cared for. Can you talk about those decisions to create that feeling?

It means so much to me that it made you feel that way. What frustrates me about the prison system is that it lacks any empathy or understanding of human nature and nurture and who we are. What we need to become better people. It takes all of that away.

I spoke to people who have spent a lot of time in prison and they told me that you have to hide your feelings and that showing any signs of weakness will be a disaster. It’s the worst possible scenario you can imagine yourself in. Being robbed of every privacy, anything that makes you happy, anything that makes you feel like yourself. I imagined the character of a caregiver in this setting who wants to help and finds a silly way to do so. I was very inspired by that story of the love letters that I talked about earlier. What does it mean to lie if you’re making someone else happy?

It’s the morning of your first day of the shoot — how do you feel?

I was very nervous. I had never said ‘action’ before. I’ve been on a lot of sets, but I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t know what I was doing, but it’s also okay not to know. Mistakes are going to happen, and sometimes they become gifts. At the same time, I was very excited. You come in and there are all these people there with you who are there to make this thing you’ve written come to life.

What are some things you would do on set to create a safe space and vulnerable environment?

We did everything we could to make the set a safe space. It was very difficult and stressful to shoot in an active prison, but we made sure to actively ask our crew if everyone’s feeling okay and if we can do anything to make the situation better. I’m very vulnerable and encourage all of my crew to be vulnerable with me. Mistakes are welcome.

It's a short film, people come and work on this not because they’re making a million dollars, but because they want to be there and are being incredibly generous with their time and energy. It was such a good environment that even when challenging things came up, it was still a lot of fun.

What was it like working with actors for the first time?

That was one of the biggest challenges for me. I’ve heard so many different stories in passing of the least helpful note or worst thing to say to an actor. You want to be respectful and actors have their way of working. Ultimately, they are all really talented actors and all of them came with so much energy and a lot of ideas.

I spent time with each of them talking about their character. Those 1 on 1 conversations helped me a lot in the writing process as well because you’re bouncing ideas off of each other and they’re asking you questions about how they would respond to a certain situation.

I had always imagined Alia Shawkat as Rosita and she ended up wanting to do it and came from LA to film it. I had tears in my eyes when we were filming the scene of her and Oscar. They were excited to do the scene together. It was all a dream.

What was the experience of working creatively alongside your partner like?

We were joking a lot about it before because there was already the stress of being so pregnant and we have a 2 year old at home, and now I was putting us in another highly intense and demanding situation. Either it was going to be great OR we would drive each other nuts. But we had so much fun. It was wonderful to work together. I was so happy to be on set and make my film and he’s just so talented and fun to be around. Those little moments where you know each other so well—I’d give him notes and he just kept surprising me and was so respectful of my directions.

He found this photo for him to connect to the character and it became very fundamental to me. It was this incredible black and white photo from the 70s of a prison guard. I had always imagined that he would have this inner salsa soundtrack playing in his soul and we would play Rubén Blades and 70s salsa music and Oscar just morphed that into music into everything and created this unique character.

And he was wearing a fat suit the entire shoot and I was pregnant and Alia Shawkat had her pregnant belly on. The three of us—it was so funny.

It seems like the perfect first experience of going into narrative with people that you really trust and support you.

Definitely! Find the people that you can team up with that really believe in your vision and who will push you to do exactly what you had in mind. People who never try to push you into these conventional routes. Our creative voices are so fragile. You want to be on the same page so that they see what you’re trying to do and want to bring that out of you. Where they’re treating your film as a sacred thing that you’re creating together.

How do you know when a film is done?

Fiction is very different from documentaries. With documentaries, it never feels like it’s done because there are so many options. That’s also why I love fiction so much; It’s so much faster. It’s a whole different beast to tame a documentary with hundreds of hours of footage where you’re reinventing the wheel every day.

How have you built up your own confidence as a director and your unique voice?

Stubbornness. I’ve had many experiences working with people who didn’t believe in my project. You have to stick to your guns and trust your instincts. Once you find your voice, you find people that want to go on that ride with you and find your vision interesting. It’s a miracle when any of us gets a project made, so your confidence can’t come from how much money your movie made. It has to come from somewhere else. Did you do justice to the people you portrayed in your story? Did anyone walk away feeling like something had changed within them?

What is a good director to you?

Someone who is driven with passion without letting that passion take over and become any source of frustration that’s taken out on other people. It should feel like a collaborative effort. And having gratitude every day that you’re making something with other people who are donating their time. You’d be nowhere without them. One of the most important things is making sure that your crew is treating everyone equally. It depends on the size of the production, but having someone who can sense what’s happening in all different departments and having department heads that are there to protect everyone. Listen to each other, and make sure everyone feels safe and is in the best place to be creative.

With COVID, what has the adjustment been like to being in an online space for this festival run?

I’m really deeply saddened by not having the human interaction aspect of it. It feels so crucial to be in the room together, to meet and see each other's projects and share the experience, to cry and laugh next to people you don’t know. I’m grieving to be honest. We just gotta get through this time. It reminds us of how sacred it is for us to gather and how that feels, and I hope that all of that will come back after this and that cinemas will survive. We really need them.

What’s next for you?

Right now I’m writing more fiction and working on a new documentary feature that I am kind of researching and shooting at the same time. I am also creating a podcast about sex, called “The List” with my friend, writer and photographer Kirra Cheers, based on a book and play she wrote. My husband and I just started a production company together, Mad Gene Media, in order to develop and produce our own material. So. lots of exciting things to continue with in the new year.

Born in 1981 in Copenhagen, Elvira Lind graduated from School of Media and Creative Arts in Cape Town in 2006 majoring in documentary film where she received two awards for her final year achievements. She has worked within that field since directing and shooting documentaries of various lengths for TV, cinema and web on 4 different continents.In 2020 she premiered her first fiction project, a 32 min short film she wrote and directed. The film was sold to Topic and was invited to various festivals including Telluride and Tribeca FF. Elvira's feature doc BOBBI JENE premiered at Tribeca Film Festival in 2017 where it won all awards in its category including Best Feature documentary, best editing and best Cinematography. The film had theatrical release in US, Spain and Scandinavia.Elvira's first documentary feature Songs for Alexis premiered at Toronto HOT DOCS in 2014 and screened and competed at a long list of international festivals. Her 8 part documentary TV series "Twiz and Tuck" was bought by VICELAND and launched in 2017. Elvira now lives and works out of New York.

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#oscar isaac #elvira lind #the letter room #mad gene media #interview

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

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the great divide part six

summary: Who knew that eight words would be your undoing. If you had known then what you know now you wouldn't have signed up for Suyin's dance troupe, you probably would have left Zaofu just to be safe. But you didn't and fate had branded you with a path that chained you to someone who would break your heart.

a/n: The last part! Please remember there is an epilogue, Gif is made by @stelladonna and a massive thanks to @medeliadracon for beta reading this series! And also a big thank you to @ladyxffandoms for helping me figure out what was missing.

word count: 8k

When you leave her office, Kuvira is filled with rage so hot she fears it may burn her insides. She hears the slam of her doors and the muffled conversation between guards before it’s softly shut once more. “It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

The malice in your voice, the use of her full name, it shattered through the toughest of walls within her. Ones you’d never breached before. She’s never been good with her emotions, ever since she was a child she warped her sadness, her loneliness, and sometimes even happiness into anger as a way to protect herself.

She was a difficult child with a temper the size of Ba Sing Se, so difficult in fact that her parents deemed her unfit for their life. It felt like the world was ending when she first arrived in Zaofu, the way her parents spoke to her before they left, making her seem like no one would ever truly love her unless she let Suyin mold her into a model citizen.

And that was another problem, Suyin always tried to turn Kuvira into a miniature version of herself. It didn’t matter how different she was, Suyin tried to bury who Kuvira truly was with a perfected version of herself, a false one.

Up until her parent's abandonment, she always assumed love would be easy and that she would instantly marry her soulmate. She’d pull her shirt up just a bit and look at the words swirled across her hip bone in wonder. “Would you mind helping me memorize the routine?”

Those words, however minuscule and mundane, proved to her that she was worthy of love. That one day she would be loved. But as she grew older in Zaofu she felt a disconnect regarding those words on her hip, the first time she had sex she had covered it up, as if trying to shield the person she hadn’t even met yet. Hara, the name of the girl who had eyed her since the first day of guard training, didn’t seem to care at all.

Kuvira feels like she should lie and say she had her eyes on you since the first practice you attended but honestly she hadn’t even noticed the new addition to the troupe. When you had pranced over to her, still light on your feet after the routine, and spoke, she wondered what kind of soft-spoken woman would end up loving someone whose own parents hated her?

She remembers that night in the metal flower in vivid detail. When you were spinning alongside her in the air she suddenly was consumed with the desire to kiss you, she didn’t even realize she had pulled you close until your soft lips touched hers.

She knew from the moment you spoke that first day she should have broken up with Baatar Jr. But Kuvira, even though she will never admit it out loud, is a stubborn and flawed woman who can’t stop once she sets her mind to something.

The fourth night of the second month on the train after she had been uncharacteristically gentle with you, was the first time you said you loved her. She asked you to repeat yourself again and again until you pulled her into a deep kiss, pouring all your love into it. The action left her breathless, and with that kiss, you broke her first wall.

She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until she starts to think about you and all her memories of you. You’re most likely in your room erasing any trace of her there may be, completely ready to extract her from your life.

Kuvira forces herself out of her office and over to her front door, she opens it up just a few inches, enough for the guard nearby to see. She doesn’t care if he can see the tears racing down her cheeks. “Have a guard stationed outside of Y/n’s door.”

Once she shuts the door after he nods, Kuvira walks into her room where she sits on the edge of her bed. If she goes to sleep, will you still be in her life tomorrow? Kuvira shoves off her boots but otherwise stays in her uniform as she lays down and stares blankly out the window, her country needs her. They need her to protect them in a way no one has ever protected her before.

Kuvira doesn’t sleep that night, she stays awake, her gaze focused on a potted plant out in the courtyard, and imagines every possible scenario in her head. These last few years have spoiled her in a way, you were always by her side through it all. You were there cheering her on and making her feel loved and wanted. She doesn’t know if she can go back to how it used to be, to loneliness.

When rays of sunshine start to peak through her window, she pulls herself up and out of bed. Kuvira goes to the bathroom to smooth out any wrinkles in her clothes but doesn’t feel the energy or motivation to change into a fresh pair. She slept in her bun, it’s a bit frizzy now with a few loose strands that she tries to tuck into her braid, there’s a pesky curl that won’t cooperate. Kuvira eventually gives up on it, letting it stay out and frame the side of her face.

You love when she has her hair down, when it’s down you immediately run your fingers through the dark curls and let out this content sigh that fills her heart with adoration. Kuvira shoves her feet into her boots on the way out of her room, beyond caring about her appearance. The guard outside her door, the same from last night steps forward when she walks out of her room.

“Ms. Y/n left her room around one A.M, it’s been reported that she’s staying at the encampment.” Kuvira frowns, did she take too long? Have you given up?

You were her guiding hand, her moral compass and now you’re gone. “Thank you,” she says monotonously before heading towards the kitchen. Despite her desire to shut herself off from the world, her stomach is cramping in pain due to hunger. She should have eaten the food you gave her last night, now it’s strewn across the desk in her office, cold and gone bad.

She takes herself the familiar route to the kitchens, growing up here has its perks. She'd seen how you look around in a mixture of confusion and wonder when they had gone to try and negotiate with Suyin. Kuvira knows this place, she ran down these very halls when she was younger. Despite the hollowness that echoes through the halls, the lack of laughter and conversation turns the whole home into a colorless husk of what it used to be.

Kuvira hadn't noticed the lack of life within as she walked into the empty kitchen. Her guards had gotten Suyin's chef to cook breakfast and dinner, and she had given him lunch off. It was for sentimental reasons, all the birthday cakes he baked her and midnight snacks. He might hate her now but she'll keep giving him lunch off in hopes of paying him back for the happy memories. She doesn't like to owe people.

He must not be in yet, it's barely dawn. The kitchen is empty, giving Kuvira the perfect moment of respite before her dreadful day. She grabs a piece of bread, most likely baked yesterday, and an apple. Part of her doesn't have an appetite, to upset about her fight with you to want to eat. She forces it down with a glass of water, the food helps her slightly, helps her feel stronger than before.

Kuvira walks down the hall, her feet carried her out of the estate and towards the tram. “I need to get out of the city,” she says to the operator waiting for any passengers by the tram doors. He nods and briskly walks over to the operating booth, she decides to grab onto the pole at the center of the cart and stand. The machinery starts with a jolt but Kuvira remains unmoving, staring straight ahead. Slowly the scenery around her begins to change, it takes her around the outer domes where a few people are toddling about, most likely walking off to work.

The tram goes under a tunnel before entering the main dome. That towering golden statue of Toph Beifong comes into view and Kuvira sighs as a memory of you enters her mind.

You’re moving around your room on the train as the view from outside is blurred due to the speed you were moving at. You and Kuvira were beginning to get to know each other in the safety of the night, which brought you such joy. Standing in front of your vanity with only Kuvira’s undershirt on you begin to take the pins out of your hair. “What was your home like?” She had asked. A wide smile made its way onto your face as you set the bobby pins into a small ring dish.

“Just so cozy. We have a townhouse in the main dome across from the botanical gardens. I had the best view from my bedroom window,” you let out a wistful sigh as you begin to untie your locks. “Our home was directly situated to the center of it, all you had to do was walk across the street to enter. So I got to wake up with a view of every flower Zaofu has curated, it felt like it was just for me.”

Kuvira watches you fondly from the bed as you continue “my dad and I made a metal planter to hang from our kitchen window by the front door, during summertime hydrangeas bloom from it.”

Without thinking Kuvira rushes over to the emergency brake button and slaps her hand onto it, the tram stops with a harsh jolt that sends her stumbling to the side. The doors automatically open with the lights above flashing red. Kuvira stands on the edge, looking below. The fall isn’t far but it could still hurt her, so she bends two of the metal seats, ripping them out of their places screwed to the floor and warping it into a crud shape of a ladder.

She bends it to the edge, moving the nails that popped out to screw them into the floor to secure the ladder. Kuvira lets out a deep sigh before beginning her descent below. This is stupid and will most likely blow up in her face, but if you decide to say goodbye to her today, she wants to see the place that you once called home. There are a few inches between the ladder and the ground so Kuvira jumps, She bends at the ladder back into the tram so if it starts whilst she’s away it won’t break any buildings in the process.

An old man opening up shop stares at Kuvira with wide eyes, watching her walk away as the tram above stays frozen. She’s a block away from the garden she’s heard you gush about, more and more people begin to filter out from their homes to start their day and each one eyes her with disgust. Squaring her shoulders, she stares ahead and away from everyone's watchful gaze.

The gardens come into view, towering bright green trees with vines growing on the wrought iron fence surrounding it. Kuvira stops at the entrance, looking inside with hesitancy, as if worried she’ll destroy it upon contact. There’s a pond in the center with a few lily pads floating around with two benches across from one another by the pond.

Flowers of all shapes and colors are scattered around and when her gaze locks on the towering Sunflowers in bloom, Kuvira suddenly remembers once finding you tucked behind them with bloodshot eyes and a raspy voice from crying. That was the second time she had knowingly hurt you, the first being asking you to keep it a secret. Kuvira takes a step back, not feeling worthy of stepping inside such a radiant place, and begins her trek around it to your house.

Most of the homes don’t have many outdoor decorations, a welcome mat or a potted plant seems to be the theme so when her eyes lock onto that metal planter with blue hydrangeas Kuvira knows she’s found the place. It’s a two-story townhome with some sort of stick figure drawn on the second story window and when she looks over her shoulder she sees how perfectly centered the house is to see all of the gardens from above.

She doesn’t know what to do now. She never really thought through her plan, which is incredibly unlike her, but that memory came flooding back through her mind and she knew she needed to see it for herself. Slowly she takes a step forward, and then another and another until she’s in front of the door with her fist raised, rapping three times against the metal.

Kuvira doesn’t know why she does it, maybe it's the sleep deprivation or an act of desperation to feel your presence again, she honestly doesn’t know. There’s the sound of thunderous footsteps from behind the door and a masculine voice calling out “I’ll get it!”

A man opens the door with the same color hair as you, he’s a bit on the chubbier side and looks to be roughly 6’2 or maybe even 6’3.

Kuvira can see the resemblance in certain features of his and it makes her long for you even more. Your father scowls at the sight of her, his demeanor has changed from cheery to vexed in a matter of seconds. She shouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m Kuvi-”

“I know who you are, you made us kneel before you.” His voice is gruff and his words clipped. Kuvira sighs, right, she did do that. “What do you want?”

‘I’ve come to talk to you and your wife about… well about your daughter.” Spirits this is awkward, your father stares Kuvira down for a few moments before frowning. Slowly he steps aside, letting her in. Your home is warm with family photos framed and hanging from the wall, the entry is a narrow hallway with an archway that leads into a small kitchen. As Kuvira follows your dad down the hall her eyes catch on a photo of you.

You can’t be any older than eight in it with your arms wrapped around your father's neck as he carries you on his back. Your mother is beside the two of you, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. All three of you are grinning and Kuvira notices that one of your front teeth is missing. Both of you have lived such different lives. At eight Kuvira was being abandoned by her parents for being too out of control.

Two people who grew up in completely different environments with such clashing personalities are soulmates, in some ways, it seems like a sick joke. But she can’t be upset about it when she loves you this much, just confused.

Your father clears his throat, ripping Kuvira from her thoughts. She looks over and tenses, he’s looking at her like he wants to say something but shakes his head and enters the room at the end of the hall. Kuvira reluctantly leaves the photo behind and follows after him.

The room is a living and dining room with a small circular table that has an elegant bouquet of yellow and white flowers in a simple vase with four chairs tucked underneath it. There is a cozy looking periwinkle sofa and an unlit fireplace with a photo hanging above it, this one is larger and is of you before the performance all those years ago. You look so pretty in that costume and so happy. Kuvira swallows.

Your dad walks up the staircase tucked to the right, leaving her in the living room where she awkwardly stands. She doesn’t think he wants her to go up. Kuvira makes out the sound of aggressive whispering from upstairs, she can’t make out any of the words but soon after two people come walking downstairs. Your father and your mother.

Kuvira’s eyes widened, you always mentioned your mother being part of the guard but you never mentioned her being the Lieutenant for the main dome. Not only did she help train Kuvira, but she also placed the captain's pin onto her uniform during her ceremony. She had smiled at Kuvira, having seen her as her own, and said quietly “I’m so proud of you.”

That smile is long gone and replaced with a scowl. “What could you possibly want to say about our daughter?” Your father places a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down a bit.

Kuvira gulps as she eyes the both of them, there're so many emotions raging within her now that she doesn’t know if she can even speak. Suddenly this place somehow seems too much like you and she wants to run away from your mother's wrathful gaze. “I’m… Your daughter,” Kuvira internally groans. This shouldn’t be so hard. “ Y/n and I are soulmates.”

“So the rumors are true…” Your father mutters as he plops down onto the couch with a dumbfounded expression.

“What rumors?” She had locked herself up in her room all of yesterday and this is her first time having a conversation with someone that’s not you. Your father grimaces.

“That guards found you in her room, naked,” your mother spits the words out. Oh spirits, this is not a good first impression. Kuvira feels her face flush a deep red “that you imprisoned your fiancé because he caught the two of you.”

“It’s a lot more than that” she offers, neither seems to care. Your father seems to not want to hear any of this because he quickly stands and walks off towards the kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans being moved can be heard through the otherwise eerily silent home. “I didn’t want to imprison him.”

“I don’t care, what I want to know is why you were even with him if my daughter is your soulmate. She abruptly left with you three years ago.”

The explanation floating around her mind isn’t good enough, she can’t seem to figure out how to eloquently explain herself without it seeming like she doesn’t care about you. Suddenly as she thinks over the last three years and she starts to notice how harshly she’s treated you.

Up until now she always claimed it was for the good of the country, when you both finally got married the world would try to eat you up and chew you out for being with her. She needed you to have a perfect image and be resilient.

“I-I needed him for engineering and he wouldn’t leave with us unless he thought I loved him,” Kuvira says sheepishly. Your mother looks unimpressed as her jaw begins to clench. “I have always loved your daughter though.”

“So you hid my daughter, my beautiful, amazing, and sweet daughter away like something to be ashamed of?” She takes a step closer, scowling. Kuvira feels like the collar of her jacket is choking her.

“No! I have never been ashamed of her, I always told her how much I loved her.”

“But you turned her into the other woman for your own selfish desires!”

“They weren’t selfish, they were for the good of the empire! She understood.” Kuvira thinks you understood but right now she’s not too sure. A kettle in the background begins to whistle.

“My daughter dreamed of the day she’d meet her soulmate, she had everything planned out and I know for a fact that the woman I raised would not be okay with what you’ve turned her into!” Your father quietly reenters the room with a tray that holds three teacups with steam coming from them.

“I love her, I just want to fix everything! It's why I came here,” that’s the real reason that compelled Kuvira to come here, if anyone knew you better than her, it’d be your parents.

“How is she doing?” Your father asks, Kuvira looks over at him and notices how sad he looks. His eyes are bloodshot and a few tears fall from his eyes before he wipes them away.

“She’s healthy but upset with me.”

“As she should be,” your mother mutters under her breath. He picks up a teacup and blows on it, “why is she upset?” His voice cracks.

“She wants me to end this, told me it's her or the empire and I don’t know what to do.” Kuvira sighs and runs a hand through her hair, messing her bun up a bit.

“And why haven’t you chosen her already?” Your father's voice is calm, there’s a sadness to it but he doesn’t shout or rage like your mother who has her back turned to Kuvira as she goes to pick up one of the teacups. She can see how tense your mother is, how angry she still is.

“Because it's my country, if I give it up to Wu and Suyin then I am turning my back on the people I promised to protect.”

“You once promised to protect Zaofu at all costs” your mother snips out, he places a hand on her shoulder and softly says “honey, please.” She relaxes just a fraction as she takes the seat beside him at the table, glaring at her tea.

“These people are vulnerable and need someone to make sure they feel safe again. I’m that person, and your daughter understood that, or I thought she did.”

Your father sets his cup down and pats the chair beside him that’s situated across from your mother. She shyly walks over to it, she doesn’t want to sit down but she’s already pissed your mom off just by existing and she’d rather not give her another reason to hate her.

“They were vulnerable, but you have gotten rid of the bandits and raiders. You’ve stabilized the empire as you promised, now it’s time to let go and hand over the reins to someone else.”

“I can’t do that,” Kuvira says, her heart is racing. Let someone else rule? Give up the control she craves? The idea makes her feel unsafe, like the second she does it someone will destroy not only her but also you.

“You have to, my daughter won’t stay with you otherwise. Are you really ready to give up love for power?” He hands her the last cup of tea, the scent of jasmine wafts up and fills her senses. She slowly goes to pick up the cup, her hands shaking.

She’s so overwhelmed, none of this is meant to be happening. She’s supposed to win and you're meant to love and support her, then she proposes with a beautiful emerald ring that she’d make herself and you’d say yes. That’s how it’s meant to go, that’s how she has envisioned it since day one.

“This isn’t how it’s meant to go” she confesses, your father sets a soft hand on her own to help stop the shaking.

“How do you think it’s meant to go?” And so she tells him what she just thought, and she adds on how both of you would continue to better this country together and maybe, one day in the far future, have a child.

“Did you ever ask Y/n if that’s what she wants?” Your mother tries to keep her voice calm, tries to keep from yelling at her again. Kuvira stares down at the cup, trying to wrack her brain around the time you’d chime in with the future you wanted, or a time she even asked. “Just because it’s the future you planned for her doesn’t mean it's the one she wants. You can’t just plan everything out without including your partner's opinions and desires into the equation.”

You once talked about what your wedding would be like with Kuvira chiming in every once in a while, but that was it. That was the only time you mentioned anything regarding the future.

“Love is about equality, you both should be putting in equal effort. It’s a delicate balance that takes time to learn, give, and take. It’s not always going to be perfect even with your soulmate but you make it work for each other. If my daughter stayed with you all these years then she must love you, but for her to put her foot down shows she has had enough.” Your father's voice is soothing and calms her down just a bit.

“But…” Kuvira’s voice shakes, “what do I do if I give up control? It’ll never go back to how it was before, how am I meant to go back to everyday life after everything I’ve done? After knowing I probably could have done more.”

“No one knows what life will be like after. But I think a few years down the road you could get back to the place you were at before, maybe a new and improved version due to all the knowledge you’ve acquired over the years and due to having Y/n with you,” he takes a sip of his tea after speaking and delicately sets it down on its saucer.

“I know you need control in your life Kuvira, it’s what made you good at being Captain, but you need to let go. Everyone has to let go at some point and this is your time,” your mother says. Kuvira’s eyes glance around the room as she feels her heart begin to pound, it feels like any second it’ll leap out of her chest. Let go? The idea sends her mind spiraling with horrifying scenarios of what might happen.

“We may not like you, but if you drop this once and for all, and make our daughter happy then,” your mother lets out a deep sigh “we will be here to support and help you.” Tears glisten in her eyes as she stares at the both of them. “If our daughter loves you then that must mean there’s still some good left in you.”

Kuvira begins to softly cry, a hand comes up to cover her mouth as her shoulders hunch in on themselves. Your dad lets out a soft sigh and says “c’mere,” before pulling her into his arms and hugging her. Kuvira doesn’t hug him back nor pull away, she just sits there and cries into his shoulder. She knows what she must do and it terrifies her, fills her with doubt, and causes her stomach to clench from anxiety.

“You need to bring her back to us, please,” he whispers, and Kuvira nods. Slowly he pulls away from her and offers her a gentle, comforting squeeze on the shoulder. She desperately wipes at her eyes, suddenly embarrassed to have cried in front of them, and lets out a shuddering breath.

“You should go find her,” your mother says. Kuvira stands on wobbly legs, her hand placed firmly on the table for support. When she’s fully upright your father pulls her back into a hug, a short one this time. Kuvira awkwardly pats his back until he lets go.

Your mother stays seated, staring her down. “Don’t break her heart,” she says. Kuvira vehemently nods, her eyes wide. She will do whatever it takes to protect your beautiful heart and if you forgive her she will cherish it every second of every day.

She leaves shortly after that, your dad gives her a cookie before letting her leave which turns out to be really good and she walks over to the tram station. It’s since been fixed so when she presses the button requesting its presence it zooms by and opens its doors for her. The chairs are still messed up, just laying there a mess of something hardly resembling what they used to be. The tram takes her out of the city and to the entrance where she wastes no time hopping into a jeep and speeding off.

The midmorning sun beats down, today is incredibly hot and causes little beads of sweat to form on her forehead. When she gets to the encampment Kuvira slows just barely and everyone moves out of the way at the sound of the car barreling through. She abruptly stops it and jumps down before heading into her tent.

Inside Kuvira marches to her radio, she disregards the state of it and doesn’t even notice the filing cabinet you broke as she tunes into the main radio station the encampment uses. “Radio Freedom, what do you need?”

“Find y/n and send her to my tent.”

“Of course, great uniter. I’ll tell all my men to search for her.” The voice stutters out a reply before she switches it off. Spirits she feels like she might go crazy whilst she waits for you. She leans against the front of her desk with her arms crossed as she tries to come up with some grand speech of how much she loves you, of how your love and presence is what has kept her sane over these last few years.

She looks up at the ceiling and sighs, the idea is terrifying but she chooses you, she’ll let go of her defenses and send her men home for you.

The sound of fabric rustling has Kuvira snapping her head back down to stare into your eyes. You look pissed, you don’t have on your jacket so the white undershirt sticks to your sweaty skin and you have your hair in a messy ponytail instead of the usual bun.

Kuvira wets her lips before speaking, “I spoke to your parents.” Your eyes widen at that, Kuvira continues “I didn’t realize I knew your mom, she helped train me when I first joined the guard.” And she hates my guts which I don’t blame her, Kuvira thinks. I let her down, just like I let you down.

You finally look into her eyes and spirits, even with that furious look on your face you take her breath away. “So?”

“She’s a blunt woman, and when I told her about us neither of your parents were pleased.” You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, she wishes she could know what’s going on inside your head. “But they gave me a piece of useful advice, something I probably could have had use of hearing all those years ago.”

She slowly walks over to you, hesitantly so. When she’s close enough you look her over and purse your lips. There’s a slight look of concern written on your features and it swells her heart with a hint of hope.

“That if I love you, it shouldn’t just be me taking from you, but by asking you to hide everything and go along with my plans that was exactly what I did. I realize now I never even asked what you want, what you envision when you see our future.”

You begin to silently cry and she has to use all of her willpower to keep from reaching forward to wipe away your tears.

“It should be equal. Give and take and be there for each other. There shouldn’t be punishments or silent treatment,” Kuvira pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you want?”

You squeeze your eyes shut at her words, your bottom lip trembling. You get lost in your thoughts, something you do often but Kuvira decides not to pull you out. She’ll give you all the time you need to reply.

“I want peace,” you say, your voice a mere whisper. But she hears you loud and clear. “I want this all to end and I want us to finally be able to love one another in front of others. I don’t want any of this, I can’t peacefully live in a world where this… this mission is a success.”

Kuvira takes a step forward and opens her mouth to pour out all of her feelings, to promise that she’ll end it when something interrupts your moment. A shout and gunfire pierce through the air. Kuvira’s heart drops and she rushes forward to look outside of the tent.

Her men are scrambling around like ants, stumbling to get to their places. She makes out a clash of fire and earth up ahead and runs out, leaving you behind. She turns a corner and comes face first with one of her men, instead of informing her of what’s going on he shoots a ball of fire at her. Kuvira’s eyes widen as she bends up a wall to protect her.

“C’mon oh great uniter! Fight me” he shouts. Kuvira’s nostrils flare as she pushes the wall forward towards the man, it hits him and sends him stumbling back. As she advances with hands clenched, ready to activate his bracelet he shoots a spiraling wave of fire out of his foot that has Kuvira jumping out of the way. “It’s even ground now,” he says in a smug tone as he raises her pant leg to show a naked ankle. What?

Her heart races as she stands back up, cracking her neck to the side. She fought the avatar, she can fight this puny fire bender. Kuvira gets into stance, smirking as she shoots out two pieces of metal, one wraps around his ankle and the other around his neck, and with a twist of her wrist, he’s flying backward, slamming into the metal wall of one of the guardhouses.

“Kuvira!” She hears you spit out, her head turns as she watches you desperately run over with an enraged look on your face. You bend the metal off the poor man, he falls to the floor with a groan. “Leave him alone.”

“He is defying me!” Her eyes widened in rage, how could you defend him? “He is one of my soldiers and he just tried to kill me.”

“He was never one of your soldiers!” Your fists are clenched as you try to control your anger, “you forced him into this!”

With both of you distracted he raises once more, letting out a pained groan before shooting a small, weaker bolt of fire. You shoot up a wall for the both of you, keeping your gaze trained on your lover. “It’s him or me.”

Kuvira lets out a growl of anger at your words, loyal earth empire soldiers rush past towards the battlefield, ignoring the lover's quarrel as they shout out commands to one another. “Why are you defending him!?”

“Because Kuvira what we did back then wasn’t right, because I made a promise to myself to protect them and I will not break it!” Her eyes widen, stumbling back a step. There’s so much going on in her head, she just wants to silence all the anger and confusion that burns within this situation.

“You freed him?” She asks incredulously, you thickly swallow before nodding.

“I freed all of them.” Your wall begins to crumble, the fire bender has since left, leaving the two of you to stare at one another. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I should have never let you cage them in as you did. You asked me early what I want? I want you to let this war go, I want you to leave them alone and surrender!”

“I can’t do that!” Not now, not after being attacked, not after seeing that her men are in some sort of danger. Your hands reach up to cup her cheeks, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yes you can, I know you can Kuvira.”

She rips herself out of your grasp, suddenly feeling like your touch will poison her. Poison her resolve and burn away all of her control. She needs this war to thrive, she needs it more than air itself.

A deafening boom is heard from behind her, once more she leaves you behind but this time she feels you hot on her heels as she runs towards the battle. Kuvira vaguely makes out something moving in the air, she squints her eyes to figure out what it is and the object swoops down just a bit to drop down soldiers that aren’t hers. It’s a sky bison she realizes, that must mean Korra is here.

She sees that one of the people that dropped down is Bolin as he lava bends a circle around him and his team to protect them from her soldiers. He wastes no time as he bends up a chunk of earth and hurls it towards the soldiers, most don’t jump out of the way in time, the force of it knocks them down and causes them to pass out. She hopes they are just passed out.

The others around him are all different kinds of benders donning makeshift armor under their shaggy and ripped clothes, Kuvira realizes with a stunned expression that it’s the reeducation camp uniforms. Her heart pounds as more of her men fall all around her, the comforting words of your father worm their way into her head as she squeezes her eyes shut. The young dictator stumbles back and pulls at the roots of her hair in frustration, she can’t let this go, can’t give up.

This is the most in control she’s ever felt, she no longer fears for her life or for her future, it was within reach and exactly what she imagined it to be. With her rule, she thought she erased any chance of reliving her younger years, alone and heartbroken as the longing for someone to hold her ate her up. Suyin’s comforting words never worked, but the sound of her men marching did.

When Kuvira opens her eyes she sees that more of her men have fallen and Bolin’s group has moved on, she surges forward to eradicate them when your hand wraps around her forearm and pulls her back. She looks over her shoulder with a snarl, not realizing it’s you.

“Don’t make me choose between you and my country.”

“It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

But if she does choose this war, this overabundance of control she will be alone and heartbroken because you will leave her. You made it clear yesterday that you won’t stand by and support this anymore, that you won’t stay by her side if she chooses this path. Your fingers through her hair work too, your soothing words are like a balm to her soul and your smile eases her into this warm state of calmness.

With you, she doesn’t need the marching of her men or the rush she gets when getting someone to sign over their land. You give it to her without a second thought, you give to her because you love her and your love doesn’t come with a price or consequences.

You tug her to the trunk of a jeep and force her climb onto it. When she stands up on the hunk of metal you grab her cheeks and force her to look at the battle ahead. More and more of her men are falling as air benders use their full force and mecha suits shoot them down. Kuvira then notices the lack of mecha suits on her side and how in the middle of the field there’s a clash of green uniforms going against one another. The field lights up with all forms of bending as each man readily gives their life to her cause.

“If you surrender your men will be fine! Kuvira be the woman I know you are, stand down!” You pull her eyes away from the scene so she can look at you, look into your eyes that are full of fear and desperation.

“Bu-” Her heart begins to race, she feels like she may vomit.

“I need you Kuvira! I need you more than them, so surrender,” you bite your lip. “For us, please Vira.”

You pull her into a breathtaking kiss that's anything but romantic, your fingers squeeze a bit tighter at her cheeks as you slant your lips against her own, she shakily brings her own hands up to grip your waist in a bruising hold.

When you pull away, there’s a tear racing down your cheek as you stare into her eyes. “Please.”

“Fine!” She spits out, her throat feels like it’s closing up as her fingers begin to shake. This is everything she’s worked towards for three years, every agonizing day spent pouring herself into documents and threatening governors and mayors into submitting to her will.

Every kiss she ever gave Baatar, every time she ignored your pleading eyes.

She’s about to give it all up for you and feels panic scrap through her as if it were wrapped in barbed wire and she doesn’t know what to do, her whole body shakes as she looks around at the mess she created.

“We need to get to the fro-” Your eyes widen, trained on something behind her.

“Watch out!” You scream, pushing her out of the way. An icicle bolts through the air, it all seems so slow and yet happens so fast. Kuvira goes stumbling back, barely able to keep herself up, her gaze moved from you during the push so when she hears the sound of you letting out some sort of strangled sound her head whips over to see the icicle lodged in your lower left stomach. Your white shirt begins to turn red as blood spills out. She’s frozen in place as she watches you slowly lift a hand to touch your wound as a pained whimper leaves your lips.

That terrible noise rips her out of her frozen state and she dashes over to hold you as you begin to fall to your knees. When Kuvira looks over to see where the icicle came from she looks into the wide, terrified eyes of one of the rebels. It’s one of the ones you helped free.

Before she can even think of all the ways she’s going to kill that woman you croak out “Vira?” Her gaze flickers back to yours, tears are welling up in your eyes and Kuvira feels the warm blood begin to spill onto her hands.

“I’m gonna save you, gonna find someone to heal you.” Her voice is high pitched and cracking but she doesn’t care. “You are not going to die.” Kuvira looks around for someone to help save you, her one chance at happiness from going up in flames. She feels her vision blur as she desperately turns her head in all directions when it lands on the blue robes of the water benders fighting on Korra’s side.

One of them has to be a healer, she thinks. “I need to lay you down so I can drive,” you grip at her wrist, your eyes widening at the idea of her letting go of you. “It’s the only way I can save you, I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly she doesn’t care about anything but you, her fear of losing control has been replaced with the fear of losing you. She can’t lose you, you're the light in her life and without you, she’ll once more be the abandoned, unlovable ward of Suyin.

She quickly leans down to press a firm kiss to your forehead before gently setting you down in the trunk of the car before clumsily jumping into the front seat and turning the key. The jeep roars to life, the only problem is how her pathway is blocked.

Kuvira stands in her seat and pulls two large walls from the earth, soldiers stumble out of the way as she pushes it through the battlefield, offering a small, clear pathway for her to drive through. She floors it and hears you groaning in the background, causing her to grip the steering wheel harder.

Her hands keep slipping from being soaked in your blood, she fights with all her might to not look down at them, knowing she needs to focus on the road ahead. Her wall ends halfway so with one hand she bends two walls again, it takes a bit longer and these walls are much shorter and less sturdy but it does the trick.

Suddenly Korra appears at the end of the pathway, her hands once lit with fire extinguish at the frantic look on Kuvira’s face. She makes it to the end of the pathway, Korra jumps out of the way as Kuvira slams her foot on the brakes. The car comes to a screeching halt and without a second to lose Kuvira is scrambling out of the front seat to where she left you.

Kuvira lets out a loud, strangled sob at the sight before her. Your skin is so pale and there’s so much blood, the floor of the trunk is coated in the deep red and Kuvira bites back a sob. You look up at her, softly saying “Vira?”

Kuvira’s wet hands go to rest on your cheeks, she looks up at Korra and screams “I need a healer!” Her scream snaps Korra out of her daze and she rushes over to the jeep, when she opens the door of the trunk and sees blood begin to trickle off the edge, her heart drops.

She’s never met you before but Suyin told her enough to know you're the one who helped them. She climbs into the truck, her brown pants slowly sticking to her skin from the blood.

The icicle has melted now, leaving in its wake a gaping hole as she summons water from one of the vats they brought for the benders and encases her hands in it. She’s only ever healed herself and it was never something so severe.

“Please,” Kuvira says to the avatar, her wet words scraping out of her throat as she continues to cry. “Please save her.” Korra nods, keeping her gaze on your wound as her hands begin to glow and hover over the gaping hole.

Neither of them notices how the fight has halted, Kuvira’s soldiers waiting for her to end the avatar due to how close they are. Their leader begins to sob as she desperately holds your neck so she can lift your head and set it on her lap. The metal probably isn’t very comfortable. Your cheeks and neck now have bloody handprints on them as Kuvira repeats like a mantra “You’ll be fine, you’re gonna be fine. I love you so much, you’re gonna live.”

Korra calls over her shoulder “I need another healer!” Two waterbenders rush over, water already bent around their hands as they climb up to help. All of their hands glow as they hover over your wound, “she’s lost a lot of blood” one of them says to the other.

“Just fix it!” Kuvira demands, her heart dropping at his comment, neither of them acknowledges her as they continue to work on her soulmate, one of your hands weakly grab at her wrist so she’ll look at you, her gaze snaps to yours and she softens in an instant. “Everything’s gonna be okay, my love. Okay?”

“Okay,” you weakly reply. Kuvira rests her forehead against your own, trying to keep from screaming out. “I love you, Vira.”

“I love you too, y/n. I love you so much.” She continues to repeat herself, you look up into her eyes with a small, adoring smile.

It feels like hours go by as they work on you. Whilst the three water tribe members try to save your life, Suyin walks up with a solemn look on her face. “You need to end this, Kuvira.”

Her eyes pull away from yours to look into those of Suyin’s and she angrily spits out “I don’t care, end it. So long as Y/n lives I don’t care.” Her men at the very front of her army hear her though and all let out differing noises of surprise. “I surrender.”

Suyin begins to spit out orders on how to arrest her men, she sends the other Beifongs back to Zaofu to clean up Kuvira’s mess whilst everyone else stays on the battlefield to help her arrest and detain the earth empire loyalists. Kuvira places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to watch it all be ripped from her, she focuses on your breathing as she tunes out the youngest Beifong sister.

Every once in a while you groan out in pain and Kuvira’s heart clenches with fear each time. “We’ve done all we can for now,” Korra says softly from behind her. Kuvira looks over her shoulder at the Avatar and sees Suyin walk up to the edge of the trunk with her arms crossed over her chest. “You can send me away to prison once she’s better, just don’t take me away from her just yet.”

“I made a promise to Y/n and I may not like it but I will stand by it. By ending this war you will be put under house arrest, we need Y/n awake before we can do that though.” Suyin sighs, Kuvira’s gaze shifts to your own at Suyin’s words but she finds them shut.

Frantically, fearful that you won’t ever wake up, she places two fingers on your pulse. It’s weak, but there. “She’s just sleeping, she’ll need lots of it.”

“Y/n said she’ll choose the city for herself, for now, we’ll need to cuff you and take the both of you back to Zaofu so she can get the rest she needs.”

She pulls your body up and into her arms so she can hold you, your head lulls onto her shoulder and you let out a soft groan at the movement.

She places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes as she hears orders being given by the younger Beifong sister. She doesn’t listen, too focused on your breathing to care. She has willingly given up her army for you, and she’d do it again if it means saving your life.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok fanfic #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra #lok #fanfic #the great divide

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athrialuxegna · 3 years

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Stronger than she thinks - Part 1

Triggers warning: mental and physical abuse, violence, swearing

I hope you guys will like this story, I wanted to translate my main fanfiction “Broken Glass”, but this plot came out and I wanted to write it, so here it is!

Part 2

Fanfiction | Archiveofourown | Wattpad

It had been a week since his dirty hands had touched me. My soul seemed to have vanished since then. My smile was long gone same as the spark in my emerald eyes. My life took a tragic turn because of Brent. He was Eric's consultant and I was Harrison's. So I had to work with both of them from time to time; it was horrible to face the bastard.

He raped me, humiliated me, and dishonored me. And there was no way to brought justice upon him. If I spoke to anyone about this, everyone would turn their back on me. Dauntless was all about being strong to stand up for another and I failed to defend myself. Nobody would count on me, I'd be a loner or worse I could end up factionless for my cowardice.

Hopeless and lost, I wandered the hallways. Keeping my eyes glued to the ground, I avoided everyone. My emotions were upside down. It was unnerving to feel that weak. Brent broke me deeper than I thought. The memories swirled around my mind day and night. The feel of his body on mine, his hands all over my skin, his lips on mine, his low grunts, the excruciating pain; all of this haunted me.

I couldn't forget myself. I should've done something, anything to get rid of him. I'm glad to be off duty for a few days. Harrison knew me too well to not notice that something was wrong with me. I've spent a lot of time with all leaders during my training. I pretty much get along with everyone, even Eric, sort of.

I annoyed him less than most of Dauntless. We could have decent conversations and we even had joked around one another at some point. That's what turned Brent against me. He couldn't stand how Eric would listen to my observations and opinions more than his. Jealousy was dangerous in a crazy man's head.

My footsteps carried me to the empty training room. This was huge, full of various pieces of equipment to train and get stronger. The punching bags were in the farthest corner. I went to one of them and began to punch over and over again. My forceful punches echoed on the rough fabric of the bag which scraped my knuckles every time. Brent's head replaced the bag in my mind; it made me feel so good to imagine blood all over his face.

As my knuckles opened to let blood flow, the door opened and closed itself with a loud creaking noise. I let out an annoyed sigh while my fist crashed more harshly on the orange bag which swung back and forth under the impact. I was proud that my technique had improved since my initiation here. I was strong and proud or so I thought. I felt agonizingly weak since last week. Heavy footsteps resonated through the room and stopped near me. I didn't steal a glance at whoever it was; I couldn't care less right now.

"If you want to lecture me, I suggest that you do it later" I warned, punching the bag again, splitting my knuckles further.

"You're going to break one of your knuckles if you carry on like this."

The cold voice couldn't be mistaken it was Eric in flesh and bones.

"Never mind it will heal as every wound. Why do you care Eric, don't you love when blood drips? My knuckles are fine, I am fine. Everything is fine!" The last part was practically shouted.

"Excuse me it's so obvious. You radiate of joy it is overwhelming even for me." Sarcasm was dripping down his low voice. "Seriously Chris what is it this time?"

"I don't need a babysitter, so would you please leave me alone." I countered back, plunging my eyes into his steely irises.

"No." His voice boomed across the room. "I'm done with you and your petty tantrums. Can't you just spit it out? Something's bothering you lately, and it's different from your daily annoying self." He sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose.

I noted he did it a lot when he was around me. It was clear that it was to avoid jabbing me in the face. Nonetheless, his words bothered me. Did he also notice something wrong with Brent? I hoped not. Eric was too smart and I feared that he already had put some pieces together.

"I'm sorry Eric but I didn't sign up in Dauntless to become a tree hugger by spitting my feelings to you," I said rolling my eyes in annoyance.

"Do I look like some peacemaker to you? I'm here to warn you. The leaders are talking a lot about you lately. Your odd behavior is questioned and it will get you fired sooner or later. And I can't save your sorry ass for much longer."

What did I do to deserve Eric's help? The question remained as I weighed my next words. His warning sounded more like a promise that he'll ditch my ass next time. Losing my job was no bother now, I would be happy to get permanently away from Brent. My life was not what it used to anymore anyway, so losing my job was a detail at this point.

"Thanks, Eric but you're not obliged to save my sorry ass. I don't ask for any favor." My smirk didn't please him judging by his frown.

"Don't play this game with me, Chris." His threatening voice sent shivers down my spine. "Now, would you tell me what's going on?" Now his voice held a foreign concern.

The silence stretched some time. I couldn't find the right words, ones that will not raise any suspicion. I struggled to breathe evenly under his watchful stare. Eric would not let go now. I was fucked no matter what.

"I can't." My voice merely a whisper. "I have to deal with it by myself." I bit my lip, unsure if it was enough to satisfy his curiosity.

His hand moved to settle on my shoulder. The contact made my body stiffen. I couldn't stand being touched since my rape. My eyes closed instantly and I shuddered. When I opened them Eric was a few feet away. I could see the cogs turning in his mind. I was ready to bolt away from him to escape the suffocating tension when he spoke again.

"Sometimes you have to rely on someone to move on. It's not cowardice to admit when you need help."

I didn't have time to react that he was already walking away. I watched him until the door closed behind his retreating back. What the hell just happened? Someone must have bewitched Eric that's the only explanation for his human reactions. I promised myself to avoid him like the plague from now on.

My best friends, Jenna and Kate, decided to break into my apartment to confront me. I suppose they were upset that I avoided them for the last few days. Nobody should know this though, not even my friends since childhood. I felt horrible to walk into them, sitting on my couch, hands crossed over their laps like mothers ready to lecture their child. I felt guilty and ashamed seeing worry plastered on their usually cheerful features. That was certainly not my day. Everyone seemed to seek answers I wasn't ready to give yet.

"Chris you can't be ghosting us anymore. Please tell us what's going on." Pleaded Jenna.

Her reaction was out of her character which indicated that she was more than worried about me. Jenna was the wild one, always up to something, a real bundle of energy. Now she looked tired. Dark bags adorned her vibrant brown eyes and her skin looked paler than usual. My gaze fell on my carpeted floor and I let out a quivering breath. I was the worst friend ever.

"I can't tell you what's going on. I'm so sorry to worry you this much but I need some space and time right now."

My poor explanation sounded wrong. I heard loud huffs then deep sighs. Was that the end of our lifelong friendship? No. I refused to lose them because of Brent, because I was afraid and a fucking coward. My head shot up just in time to see them getting up, ready to leave. Kate's baby blue eyes bore into me as she shook her auburn hair in disappointment.

"I thought that you trusted us. That we were sisters. We're meant to share our secrets and support each other no matter what. We've vowed to always be there for one another, but you don't let us. We don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to do to get my best friend back." Her soft voice cut through me.

I stared at her. My mind was a plain blank page. The deafening silence crushed me. Indeed, the worst friend ever. I couldn't let them be there for me because it would destroy them. I knew it was a false excuse. I wouldn't handle the whispers, the pointed looks, the rumors. I would be the girl Brent-raped. And I wasn't going to let it happen if I could prevent it.

"Say something, Chris." Ushered Jenna.

I look at them mouth agape, not one sound came out of it. Kate sighed then made a sign for Jenna to follow her out of my apartment. I felt my heart broke into pieces. I've lost my sisters' trust. Tears were drained a while ago.

I took my old guitar which sat in the corner of my bedroom. A gift Jenna and Kate gave me for my twentieth birthday. The memory drove me back to the past. I've spent the night playing sad melodies, trying to soothe my aching heart. I remembered my life before this horrible night. It was so easy to live back then. I hoped tomorrow would be better or I could lose my sanity.

#divergentfanfiction #eric coulter #ericxoc #strongerthanshethinks #multichapter #dauntless #four #max #harrisson #ocs

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