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arcanewhoosh · 3 months ago

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The Weight (1/3)

3.3k words

Proofread? Y/N

Relevant Tags: Jinx x Reader, Post series finale, Canon compliantish, time skip, reader runs a port, alcohol consumption, original characters for interaction's sake, three shot hopefully

You were really hoping to have a chill day at work. Was your current predicament your own doing? Yes. Were you still going to complain about it anyway? Also yes. But while you were almost one hundred percent sure that you wouldn't have to run around putting out fires,--you prided yourself in fixing up how efficient the port was being run--an unexpected landing from a rogue airship ruins the peace and quiet you were hoping to have. You would've been pissed. On any other gods-given day, you would be incredibly pissed. But unfortunately for you, the pilot of the ship has you wrapped around her finger the second you lay eyes on her.

"BREAK. BREAK. PAPA MIKE THIS IS TRAFFIC CONTROL. DO YOU COPY?"

You groan, rubbing your temple as you reluctantly reach for your radio. You were praying for a slow day, your hangover from the previous night still glaringly in full swing, but alas, today just had to be the day an army of ships were going through the bay. You curse the ray of sunlight that hits you square in the face when you sit up in your chair, letting out a huff before pushing the call button.

"Ten-four. Traffic control this is Papa Mike. What's the situation? Over." The radio beeps as you let go of the call button, before it crackles back to life.

"PAPA MIKE WE HAVE AN UNAUTHORIZED AIRSHIP ON DOCK EIGHT. OVER." You pick up a copy of the manifest, eyeing schedules for the aforementioned dock. A red ink pen was used to overwrite Available on the manifest to Maintenance. Sighing, you stand up and head closer to the window to get a view of the dock. The radio beeps again.

"PAPA MIKE. STATUS?" You reach for the radio on the table, its coiled cable stretching out as you yank it with you towards the window. Yup, there's an airship there alright. Looks like it came from Piltover based on the design.

"Copy that Traffic Control. Affirmative on the unauthorized airship. Dock eight's supposed to be under maintenance. Over."

"COPY THAT, PAPA MIKE. WE'RE GONNA NEED YOU TO GO UP THERE AND CHECK THE SHIP. NEGATIVE RESPONSE ON SHIP'S RADIO. OVER."

"Huh?" You mutter to yourself, before pressing the call button again.

"Traffic Control why do I need to go up there? Over."

"PAPA MIKE WE HAVE NO AVAILABLE HANDS. THERE'S TOO MANY SHIPS COMING IN TO THE PORT TO CHECK ROGUE AIRSHIPS. OVER." Great, just great.

There had been a recent influx of visitors coming from all over. It had started with whispers of a war between Piltover and a Noxian fleet, and people were scrambling to get as far away from the city as possible. Something about Hex Gates being fought over, which was expected at some point, really. How could anyone just watch as Piltover create the scientific equivalent of teleportation, and not want a piece of that pie? You had your money on Piltover eventually falling, since there was no way a merchant city would have a chance again a Noxian army. Imagine your surprise when they did manage to win.

Then there were travelers headed towards Piltover. With the sudden decline in population, especially for workers, the city-state welcomed people with the promise of work and opportunity. You heard from somewhere that they were willing to give stipends depending on the work you'd be able to contribute. You were briefly tempted yourself, until you realized that Noxus might retaliate and cause more trouble.

Though regular ships were expected to show up at your docks, the influx of airships were a surprise. But you figured that Piltover airships were riding the coast instead of staying on land so they could avoid having to travel on Noxus territory entirely. From where you were standing, several stories high, you could see a long line of passenger and private vessels lining up to dock; looking a bit to your side, airships were also moored, rendering the port to near full capacity. Routine maintenance became frequent, just to make sure none of the sea and air docks would suddenly have stability issues.

All of the airships were lined up in a neat pile on their moors, except for that one rogue airship on dock eight. You frown as you shoot a glare its way.

On one hand, you could do your job, go up there and check out which Piltie decided to moor their airship there; this definitely wasn't the first time this has happened. On the other, just leave the ship be and ignore traffic control. You much prefer the second option, really. But that would get you fired, and you're not really looking forward to being fired. So you let out another groan as you lightly bang your forehead on the window. Of all the days I'd have to walk outside in the bright ass sun. You think yourself as you hit the call button.

"Ten-four traffic control. Wilco. Over and out." You toss the manifest onto your desk and hook the radio back up as you hear Traffic Control acknowledge you. You put on your sunglasses and put on your work jacket and cap, then down a cup of coffee before heading out the door.

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"Take the job at the port, they said. They'll just make you haul stuff, they said."

Your face scrunches up in disdain as you walk along the air docks. The sun was especially bright today, and on any other day, you'd actually enjoy it. But today, with your head throbbing, and your stomach reminding you of your poor choices the previous night, you absolutely loathed that incessant ball of fire.

Dock eight was near the end of the platform, which meant a longer walk. The wind decided it was a good time to pick up and was whipping against your face; you hold on to your hat to stop it from flying off. You made a silent promise to punch whoever was the captain of the rogue ship. As you round the corner--a sign with the number eight painted on it and Under Maintenance right underneath it--you spot a cloaked figure trying to tie down the sides of their ship onto the platform.

"Hey, pal. You're not allowed to dock here." You pick up the pace--not by much due to your queasy stomach--as you approach the ship and grab one of the lines and tying it down. The ship's pilot--whose shoulders seemingly sag in relief once you're able to secure the vessel--is still turned away from you, trying to secure another line. You raise your voice to try and beat the loud whipping of the wind.

"Hey, did you hear me?!" The figure stands up straight and turns to you, her hood being blown off.

You see the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen in your life.

"What?!" She shouts back.

You try to say something, but end up stammering and unable to get any words out. Thankfully, the wind calms down, and you're able to think in relative peace even though your mind was still fogged by your hangover.

"Uhm, you can't dock here. This one's under maintenance." You point towards the sign behind you. She cranes her neck a bit to get a look behind you, her blue hair flowing effortlessly off her shoulder. She clocks the sign, then turns her eye back to you.

"Sorry, who are you?" She asks, an annoyed look crossing her face.

You're not usually snippy, but you're hungover, and this girl

had the audacity to ask who you were when she's the one illegally docking her ship on your port.

"Oh, silly me!" Feigning surprise, you have one hand on your chest, one taking off your hat in an exaggerated and flowy motion. "How incredibly rude of me--" your talk in a higher pitch than you usually do, committing to the bit you're pulling. "It looks like this says--" Your face drops, and you mirror the annoyed look this beautiful, audacious girl is sending you. "--Port Master." The tone of your voice is icier than you would have wanted it to be, and she winces at you. Wow, now you feel like a jerk.

"Look, I'm sorry." She puts her hands up, as show of peace. "I had to do an emergency landing. There's been something wrong with the engine--"

"You could've answered the radio transmission."

"Yeah, no. That's busted."

"How convenient." She takes a very deep breath at your deadpan responses. Even closing her eyes before exhaling--Holy shit she's gorgeous--and maintains her calm demeanor as she tries to explain herself.

"I'm really sorry. But I wouldn't just randomly dock if it wasn't an actual emergency." She points towards the engine at the back, and sure enough, a small plume of white smoke is emitting out of one of the propellers. Your brows furrow as you try to take a closer look at the engine. The smell of something burnt fills your nostrils, and the pain from the headache you're been trying to ignore increases.

"Go moor the ship and turn off the engine." You nod towards the mooring mast as you rub your temple. She shoots a curious look your way.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just moor the ship." You wave her off as you head to the radio box, opening the panel with a click, and flipping the switch to turn it on. The previously hollowed light turns green, and a low hum signals that it's functioning. You grab the microphone and push a button.

"Traffic Control, this is Papa Mike on dock eight. Do you copy? Over." The radio starts to cackle before a response. "TEN-FOUR PAPA MIKE. ANY NEWS ON THE STRAY DOCKING? OVER."

"Qualified emergency landing. We got engine trouble. Ten-seventy-eight, tug ship for hangar transport. Over."

"COPY THAT PAPA MIKE. TEN-TWENTY-THREE ETA FIFTEEN MINUTES. OVER."

"Ten-four. Over and out." You put down the microphone and let out a sigh.

"What'd they say?" You jump from the sudden voice coming from behind you, and you hit your hand on the panel door. You yelp as you try to shake out the pain from your hand.

"Fucking hell, when did you get there." She crosses her arms and shrugs.

"Literally while you were talking to your traffic control." You nod as you double over, the pain in your hand teaming up with your headache for an optimal terrible time. You don't notice her approach and lightly put her hand on your shoulder. "Hey, totally none of my business, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," You say quickly, straightening up and holding onto your still aching hand. "Just, super hungover." You wince as a few clouds part and the sun hits your face. "Fuck, anyway. We'll send a tug ship down to get you into the hangar. We can do an engine check there."

There's a surprised, confused look on her face. "I can't kick you out with a busted engine." You offer before she can ask. She still looks a bit confused and uneasy by the offer, but nevertheless mutters a Thanks before turning around and walking to her ship, you tentatively follow from behind. "You should get your valuables and some clothes. We can let you into the hangar to fix the engine, but you can't sleep there. There's a good selection of places to stay down at the town, in the meantime." You stay behind as she disappears into her ship.

She pops back out a few minutes later, having doffed her coat. Your eyes immediately catch the tattoos peeking out from her sleeve. She raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on her lips, before tossing you a vial.

"What's this?" You ask, popping the cork, and mistakenly taking a whiff of its contents. You cough from the smell.

"Hangover cure." She says as she walks past you, checking over her lines on the cleats of the dock. You debate whether or not you should drink something this total stranger just handed you. Unfortunately, pretty privilege is a thing that exists, and you're only human. So you down the contents of the vial, and you stop yourself from gagging from the oily feel of the liquid.

"Woah, hey! You're supposed to rub it on your forehead!"

"I was supposed to what?" She grabs the vial from your and checks how much is left, before looking at your horrified expression. She looks at you with concern, then back at the vial, then back at you, before snorting.

"I'm sorry, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You're supposed to drink it." She tips the vial over and spills what's left of it into her mouth. You try not to pay too much attention to her sharp jaw or the way the muscles on her neck move when she swallows. "See. It tastes like ass, but it works."

"What's even in it?" You ask as you hand her the cork. She shrugs.

"You're better off not knowing."

"Great."

You're about to ask her how she ended up in your port, but the tug ship comes into view, and the radio box starts to ring. You excuse yourself to walk back to answer.

"DOCK EIGHT THIS IS TANGO-SIERRA-ONE RECEIVED TEN-TWENTY-THREE REQUEST. CONFIRMATION FOR ASSISTANCE? OVER."

"Tango-Sierra-One this is dock eight. Ten-four on the assist. We need to get this ship to the hangar for an engine check. Over."

"COPY THAT. CLEAR IMMEDIATE AREA FOR LINE DEPLOYMENT. OVER." The tug ship starts to hover above the Piltover ship. It's much larger propellers kicking up a wind and dust.

"Hey! Get over here. They're gonna deploy lines." You beckon the girl over, and push the call button on the radio. "All clear!"

You hear a ten-four come from the ship, as lines come down from its side, lowering down to the side of the smaller ship.

"LINES DEPLOYED. TANGO-SIERRA-ONE TEN-TWENTY-THREE FOR ATTACHMENT. OVER."

"Ten-four. Over." The blue haired girl is on her tip toes trying to look over your shoulders.

"That means they're standing by while we attach the lines, right?" She asks. You mutter an affirmative before the both of you move to attach lines to the sides of the ship. You start untying the lines on the cleats, and instruct her to unmoor.

"I'll have to hitch a ride with you to the hangar." You say as you wrap her ship lines and put them away.

"Aye aye, Port Master." She gives you a mock salute as she heads to the mooring mast, and you head over to the radio box.

"Tango-Sierra-One radio on ship is ten-seven. Lift off at T-minus five minutes. Over and out." You wait for the tug ship's confirmation before switching off the radio and closing the panel, signaling for your companion to board the ship. "We got five minutes before they start lifting the ship." She nods and gestures for you to head inside.

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

"Right," You start, taking off your hat and jacket. "The hangar we don't usually rent out, but in cases of emergencies like this, you can use it but you still have to pay the port fees. It's usually double, but I'll waive it since that hangover cure is actually working."

"Covered dock where I can repair my ship and I pay the same fee as the schmucks outside? Sounds like a steal to me." She says as she takes your things and sets them down a chair. "You give discounts to all the girls with engine trouble?" The desk on the side of the ship creaks as she leans on it. She's got a mischievous glint in her eye, and with your hangover gone, you're more willing to bite.

"Only the one's that give me their name." You say as you walk over. You're momentarily distracted when you see a map on the wall, a chartered course written over it. She looks behind her to see what's suddenly got your attention. You tap the part where Piltover and Zaun are located. "You're a long way from home."

"Who says I'm from Piltover?" She crosses her arms, giving you a challenging look. Those goddamn eyes.

"Your ship screams Piltover."

"Really?"

"It's obvious you made a few modifications, but yeah, it's pretty obvious." You chuckle as you point at the interior of the ship, clearly made for aesthetic more than utility. "Even the inside." She lets out a huff, and starts a rant about changing the interior when she gets the chance.

The ship suddenly lurches, and you're both thrown off balance as the tug ship begins its ascent. You recover first, steadying yourself on the desk then grabbing her by the waist and pulling her over to the desk as well. One of her hands grabs onto your shoulder when you reach for her, and the other onto the desk so she can steady herself. When the ship rocks to the side, she ends up pulling you along with her, and you end up unintentionally pinning her to the desk. Your faces suddenly a few inches apart. Mercifully--or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it--the tug ship is able to do a successful ascent, and the ship stops moving. You lock eyes, and you see panic, then surprise, then amusement come across her face.

"Definitely don't get this from other ports." Her eyes flit to your lips for a moment before they meet your eyes again. You proactively take a step back, trying to salvage some ounce of professionalism. Playful banter was one thing, pinning someone to their desk was something else entirely.

"Sorry," You manage. "I definitely don't do… that with other pilots here, trust me." You dust yourself off and start picking up stuff that had fallen off the desk. She seems to take the hint and fixes up the desk.

"So where are you headed after port?" You try your best to not sound nosy as you gather a few fallen pencils and stack them back into a cup, with neon drawings on it.

"Haven't really thought about it, I usually go wherever I feel like it." She points towards the map again, and the scattered course is enough to confirm her statement. You ask her about the places she's been to, mostly coastal cities, save from Piltover itself. Following the same patterns most Piltover ships use that avoid Noxian ports. Better safe than sorry, you guess.

Eventually, you start to see the hangar come into view, and you tell her to brace herself for the landing. You grab her arm when she loses her balance again, making sure to keep a respectable distance. Once a crew member comes into view of the window and throws an okay signal, the both of you exit the ship. You set off for the engine, and she follows with a tool box in tow.

"I have a guess on what could be wrong." She says as she opens up the back panel of the ship. "I'm pretty sure I have a blown gasket."

"I was thinking a cracked engine block." She gives you a look and you shrug. "Just a guess."

She grins at your response. "Wanna make a bet." She turns to the engine and starts unscrewing the outer parts.

"Sure. Always in the mood to be right." You can hear the snort coming from inside the engine.

"Loser buys the winner drinks. Anywhere they want."

"Deal."

"Get ready to lose money later then, I guess." You move to help her remove parts of the engine, which were thankfully cool enough to handle. Then, once you've both gotten most of the attachments unclasped or unscrewed, you roll an engine hoist over to remove the entire engine from the ship. "Ready to be disappointed?" She asks. You send her a cheeky smile.

"Wait." She stops short of lifting one of the covers.

"What, cold feet?"

You scoff. "No, you never told me your name."

She blinks, clearly not expecting the question. She looks off to the side, seemingly debating whether or not she should tell you. Not that she needs to, really, since you have to make her sign a manifest anyway. But you'd prefer if she told you herself.

"Powder." She starts. "My name is Powder." You crack a smile and introduce yourself.

"Powder." You test the name on your lips. It suits her. An unusual name, sure, but you've heard stranger ones.

"Nice to meet you, Powder. Ready to lose?"

"Not on your best day."

#arcane #arcane netflix #arcane jinx #arcane x reader #jinx x reader #i lrealized why airports were called airports while writing this lol #Jinx making an entrance

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juanarc-thethird · 10 months ago

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Hi I have a question are you still doing I have a license for that?

Yes I do ------------

I have a license for that! Part 3

Jaune is in the library using one of the computers checking flights to return home.

Jaune: Dammit, why is everything so expensive?

Winter: Is everything all right?

Jaune: Hm?

He looks back and looks at Winter standing near him.

Jaune: Oh, hello Winter. Everything is fine, thanks.

Winter: From the tone you had for a moment it didn't sound like everything was fine.

Jaune: It's nothing important. I just can't find flights to go home for a family thing, but I haven't given up. But thanks for asking.

Winter: If you want I can take you there. I have my own airship.

Jaune: Really?!

He says excitedly, but immediately takes it back.

Jaune: Oh no, no, no, I can't ask you that. It's too much. Thanks but I can't accept your help.

Winter then turns to the screen Jaune is using and sees where he is going.

Winter: You know, I was already heading to my family's villa and where you're trying to go is close by. If you don't mind making that short stop, I can drop you off there later. Also, so that you don't feel like it's too much, it would help me a lot to have some extra hands.

Jaune: For real?

Winter: Mm-hm, It's just a routine stop and then I'll leave you wherever you want.

Jaune: *Happy* Ok, cool! Thank you!

Winter: No problem. I leave early tomorrow at 7am.

Jaune: Great! I'll be there at 6:30am.

Winter: Understood. See you there. *Walks away*

Jaune: See you there! And thank you again!

The next day...

Jaune meets Winter at the airship port with his suitcase.

Jaune: Good morning Winter, I'm ready to go.

Winter: Good morning Jaune. You can put your suitcase in the back of the ship.

Jaune: Thank you.

He started to walk towards the back of the aircraft but then he stopped.

Jaune: You know, I never told you what kind of help you need in your family's villa.

Winter: Really? I thought I did.

Jaune: No, you didn't. What kind of help do you need?

Winter: I'm just going to clean the house a little. Nothing big.

Jaune: Ok, wait, let me see if I understand. Your family is the richest in all the four kingdoms, but they do not have a cleaning staff in their villa. Forgive me but it sounds a bit suspicious.

Winter: You're overthinking it. The reason we don't have Staff is because-

Jaune: *Interrupts her* Are you a member of my mom's club?

Winter: *Surprise* What?! What club? I don't know what you're talking about?

Jaune: That reaction makes me think the opposite. You know what, I'm just going to play it safe. Thank you very much for your help, but I will find another way to get there.

Jaune starts to leave but Winter stops him by grabbing his suitcase.

Winter: *Panic* Wait!

Jaune: Hey! Let go!

Winter: I swear I'm not part of your mom's club!

Jaune: Fine, you are not! Can you let me go now?!

Winter: Can I still take you home?!

Jaune: No!

Winter: Then I can't let you go!

Jaune: Winter!... *pulls* Let!... *Pulls* Me!... *PULLS* Go!... *PULLS!* now!... *PULLS!!!!!*

And with the last pull, they both lost their balance and fell to the ground. As a card fell, it came out of Winter's jacket and slid over to where Jaune was lying. They both get up and Jaune notices the card.

Jaune: What is this?

Winter: *Gasp!* Don't look!!

He takes the card and…

Jaune: What the fuck?!

Winter immediately lunges towards Jaune taking the card from his hands. She pushes him to the ground and using her Semblance, she leaves him stuck there.

Jaune: I knew it! I knew you were part of that weird club!

Winter: *She gets into her airship* I'm sorry, my love, but I didn't expect you to find out so quickly.

Jaune: Can you at least explain to me why my mom created this club?!

Winter: I'm sorry, but it's not my place to say. Look for the Witch, she may give you the answers you are looking for.

Jaune: The Witch?!

Winter: Goodbye.

Jaune: Hey! Wait!!

She starts the engines of her airship and flies away. After some distance, Jaune is freed.

Jaune: *Upset* Fuck, back to square one.

#I have a license for that! AU #Jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune #rwby jaune arc #winter #winter schnee #rwby winter schnee #rwby winter #rwby #rwby shitpost

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dndsettingsinfo · 1 year ago

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Airship Bay [20×15] by Mati

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cioud-berries · 3 months ago

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Mutual Benefit || Chapter 6

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I struggled so hard with this one because the next one is the one i want to really write. Anyways next week is finals week so hopefully I will be writing more once its winter break!!

Summery:

Posts season 2: Spoiler warning!!

Being forced into an arranged marriage, [Name] tried her hardest with her unreceptive husband Salo. After his death, she was forced to replace his council position, trying to figure out who she was as a person. Sevika never expected to get anywhere close to the council, let alone join them. As the stigma around people from Zaun still stood, she struggled to gain the respect from her new fellow councillors. With so many differences how could the two really help one another?

Chapter Warnings:

Season 2 Spoilers, alcohol involvement.

Word count: 2,560

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<- Previous Chapter || Mutual Benefit Master List || Next Chapter ->

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Handing her passport to the enforcer, Sevika watched [Name] and Sasha make their way onto the airship. The guard gave her a nasty look as he handed her passport back. Sevika brushed by with a roll of her eyes.

Once she was on the ship, she walked up to [Name] and Sasha. Sasha was jumping up and down, extremely excited that Sevika was going to be joining them. “I can’t wait for you to meet Agalea!” Sasha happily told Sevika.

Sevika gave [Name] a questioning look, as Sasha had not explained who Agalea was. “My niece.” [Name] clarified.

Sevika nodded in response, leaning against the airship as it began to take off. “What should I know about your family?”

“My eldest brother Maxwell is the heir to the throne. I think you’d like him. But he can be a real pain sometimes.” [Name] explained with a small smile. “My father will like anyone, so never worry about him. My mother…” She paused, trying to find an explanation for her and what Sevika should expect. “My mother is very protective over her family. So just watch your eyes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sevika cocked her eyebrow with a slight smirk.

“Don’t even pretend like you don’t know how you look at me.” [Name] jokingly glared at her. “I think she might actually banish you if she catches you.”

“Fine. I’ll only admire you in private.” Sevika jokingly scoffed.

The mood slightly changed as [Name] deeply exhaled. “But the biggest unspoken rule of my family is: Never mention my dead siblings.”

Sevika nodded, her head. A look of sadness just barely broke through. Wanting to change subjects, Sevika asked, “What’s your eldest brother like?”

“Oh Gods.” [Name] huffed, rolling her eyes. “He’s a brother.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Sevika replied, now really wanting to know about this mysterious brother of hers. “I had no siblings.”

“He’s both one of the most amazing and worst men I’ve ever met.” [Name] explained. “We’re very close after everything we went through. He’s really fun. But at other times I just want to-” [Name] looked down at her daughter that was looking out into the ocean. She could only whisper her next words, “Kill him.”

“Sounds about how most sibling relationships are.” Sevika responded.

“I genuinely don’t understand how he not only found a wife.” [Name] sighed in frustration. “Sometimes he literally wakes me up in the middle of the night to ask if I would want to go drinking with him.”

“He sounds like my kind of fun.”

“We’ll most likely go to the bar tonight. You’re welcome to join.” [Name] invited.

Sevika scoffed with a small smirk. “Do you know who you’re talking to?” [Name] only smiled in response.

The airship continued on and after many hours they arrived at the port. Sasha was jumping up and down at the terminal. She could already see her cousin Agalea waiting for her. [Name] had to hold Sasha’s hand, making sure she doesn’t trip and possibly fall off the side of the boarding dock.

“Welcome to Sembyr.” [Name] told Sevika, before turning her attention to the people waiting to welcome them.

The second they reached solid ground, [Name] let go of Sasha, letting her run to her cousin, hugging her. Next to Agalea was an [Name]’s father. He had a large smile on his face, but he waited beside the two children.

[Name] sped up her pace, hugging her father once he came at arm length. “It’s been too long.” He mumbled.

Chuckling, [Name] pulled away. “It’s only been a few months.”

“I know.” He smiled at his daughter. “But you know I worry about you. Especially after Salo’s death.”

[Name] grimaces at the mention of him. “I’m doing much better without him.”

“I know. I just meant that you’re now raising Sasha all alone. And now you’re a councilor on top of that.” He expressed his worries.

“Dad, really, I’m fine.” She tried to extinguish his worries, knowing he never would be able to. Wanting to get over the topic of her dead husband, she turned to other things. Stepping aside, she allowed Sevika to join the conversation. “This is Sevika, she is one of my fellow councilors.”

“Ah right.” He said to himself, forgetting that [Name] was bringing. “It’s nice to finally meet you! [Name] has told us quite a bit about you.”

“She has?” Sevika asked with a cocky grin.

[Name] was more than embarrassed, but she could only hide it with a confident smile. Her father continued, making it even worse. “Oh yes! I am very thankful for your help with all that council stuff. She’s also told us about-”

[Name] was quick to cut her father off. “Where’s mom and Max? I was expecting them to be meeting us.”

“Oh right.” He exclaimed, forgetting to explain that. “They’re in a meeting. So I just thought that I would bring Agalea with me.”

“Maybe we should start heading over?” [Name] asked, just wanting to get home.

[Name] and her father talked as they walked their way to the castle in the distance. Sevika stayed quiet, only talking when talked to. She could immediately tell that this was a new [Name]. The real [Name]. One that didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than herself.

While the adults were talking, Sasha and Agalea were telling each other what fun things had happened in the past few months. It then turned into who had been having the most fun and had the better story.

“Well I made a cool new friend.” Sasha crossed her arms. “And she’s been teaching me self defence.”

Agaela looked shocked. “My dad won't even allow me to touch a sword.”

“That’s her.” Sasha whispered, pointing at Sevika. “Under her cloak is a mechanical arm.”

“She looks so cool.” Agalea looked admiringly at Sevika. “I wanna see her metal arm!”

“She only shows it to me.” Sasha huffed, wanting to be special.

“No fair!” Agalea whined.

Sevika had overheard the whole conversation. Looking over her shoulder to look at the two girls. They immediately noticed that they were caught. Agalea got bashful, looking away from Sevika; While Sasha only gave her a bright smile.

Sevika chuckled, putting her attention back on [Name]’s conversation. Agalea and Sasha immediately went back to discussing Sevika, trying to be quieter, but they weren’t at all.

They arrived at the castle gates. Sevika was stunned at just how big the building was. It was bigger than the council building, and that was an office building, but this is a home. She knew [Name] was rich, but this kind of wealth was incomprehensible.

The doors to the castle opened, revealing an older woman and a man that couldn’t be much older than [Name]. [Name] left her fathers side, running up and hugging the woman first, and then went to the man. Sevika could only assume that it was [Name]’s mother and brother.

She walked up to the group that was exchanging warm words. The man, who was known as Maxwell. He gave Sevika a wide smile, walking up and reaching his left hand out to shake hers.

“You must be Sevika.” He greeted, waiting for her to shake his hand.

She only glared down at his hand. To shake it, she would have to reveal the weapon that hung off her shoulder, and she could possibly chop his hand off. “I am.” Is the only way that she responded.

[Name] walked up to them, leaving her mom to bombard Sasha with kisses to her face. “She doesn’t have a left hand idiot.” She told her brother while rolling her eyes.

Maxwell made a shocked face as he switched what hand he used to shake. Sevika then grasped his hand, shaking it briefly. “[Name] has told me that you’re new to the council. How are you liking it?”

“It’s been frustrating working with such idiots.” Sevika didn’t like how chummy he was being, after just meeting, thinking that he had other motivations. Sevika clarified what she meant. “All except [Name].”

[Name] gave a small smile at the exclusion. “The situation in Piltover reminded me of what we had gone through.” [Name] explained to Maxwell. “Since you too quickly rose to power, I thought you could bond over it.”

Sevika huffed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t see how they could have anything in common with her.

“These are all discussions that should be held over a mug of beer.” Maxwell whined, preferring to be drunk. He had a slight issue, whether he knew it or not.

“That’s what tonight is for.” [Name] smiled, knowing that they would like one another once they shared a beer together.

The mention of them getting drunk together piqued Sevika’s interest. [Name] told her that she had to be on her best behavior around her family, but she knew that with a little alcohol in her system, her eyes would most definitely wonder.

Maxwell was called away by a guard, as next in line he was always busy. It left [Name] and Sevika alone, as [Name] showed Sevika to her room. “I know you just met all of them, but how do you like them?” [Name] asked, her family meant a lot to her and Sevika was becoming an important person in her life, so she wanted to make sure that they were getting along.

“I haven’t talked to them enough.” Sevika flatly responded. “I didn’t get to talk to your mom.”

“Yeah.” [Name] huffed. “She does that the second she gets her hands on Sasha.”

“Her liking of me seemed to double.” Sevika told, talking about Agalea’s newfound admiration.

“They’re very close.” [Name] explained. “They tend to start liking the same things.”

“I can tell.” Sevika let the smallest smirk get through.

“Don’t worry though, Sasha spends most of her time here with my sister in law or mother.” [Name] told. She stopped in front of a door. The one that would be Sevika's room. She chewed at the corner of her lip. “So that means that we can finally have some alone time.”

[Name] batted her eyelashes at Sevika, giving a cunning smirk. Sevika took it as a sign to go in for a kiss, leaning into her. But she was met with nothing as [Name] backed up. “But you need to settle in first.”

Sevika’s face contorted in frustration. [Name] was edging her, making her wait for it. She couldn’t understand why [Name] wouldn’t allow her to just drag her into the room and show her how she really feels.

[Name] was slowly backing up more. “My room is right next door.” She informed, but ‘right next door’ was almost halfway down the hallway. “So just knock if you need anything.”

Sevika watched ask [Name] turned away, there was a bit of sway in her hips as she made her way to her room. Sevika opened the door to the room she would be staying in. She was met with a room that was bigger than her whole apartment.

She spent hours, lounging around the room, trying to find something to do other than nothing. As the sun began to descend, there was a knock on the door. When she opened the door, [Name] stood there in completely different clothes, ones that closer matched the style of Sembyr. Sevika didn’t mind at all as it revealed more of her body than any of her old clothes ever could.

“We’re about to leave for the bar.” [Name] told Sevika. “If you still want to join, of course.”

“This is all I’ve been waiting for.” Sevika added, walking past [Name] into the hall.

They quietly made their way down to the foyer, where Max stood with another man. They were conversing but when they saw [Name] and Sevika out of the corner of their eye, they stopped, turning their attention to them.

“This is my friend Orionn.” [Name] introduced. “He is also currently one of the king's guards.”

Orionn awkwardly waved as Sekiva nodded to acknowledge him. They walked out of the castle, heading towards the gate. Orionn and Maxwell walked in the front, going back to their conversation. [Name] and Sevika walked behind them by a few steps, not talking.

“How are you liking Sembyr?” [Name] asked.

“I haven’t seen much.” Sevika said, as she was in the room for the past few hours.

[Name] nodded her head. “Well you’ll see the heart of Sembyr soon!”

“A bar is the heart of Sembyr?” Sevika asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yep!” [Name] smiled. “It didn’t use to be. It was the headquarters for the revolution. When we won, it became one of the biggest hotspots in the city.”

“So your family were revolutionaries?” Sevika asked, still not getting the whole story still.

[Name] nodded “My mother became the head of the revolution. When we won she ascended to the throne.”

“And the revolutionaries were okay with another monarchy after the last one oppressed them?” Sevika asked.

“Yeah.” [Name] awkwardly answered, seeming a bit unsure of the reasoning. “My mother was royalty. She was supposed to be heir but knew she would just be controlled by everyone around her so she ran away. The revolutionaries convinced her to join the cause. And the rest is history.”

Sevika’s brows furrowed, still confused at why people would act in such a way, yet it was exactly what happened with her. They wanted independence but instead Sevika joined them. The closer they got to the bar, the more crowded it got. Many people watched the group, as it wasn’t every day you got to see the royals out and about.

The bar was not what Sevika thought it would be. She was expecting some fancy uptight bar, but it looked like any normal one. When they entered, it was packed, having to squeeze past people to get through.

To make sure they didn’t get separated as they walked to the back, [Name] grabbed Sevika’s hand. Sevika was shocked at the sudden physical contact as [Name] pulled her along. Maxwell and Orionn got lost in the crowd, so it was just now [Name] and Sevika.

Once they made it up to the bar [Name] let go of Sevika’s hand. They were at the very edge of the bar, as [Name] waved down one of the bartenders. They both ordered drinks, staying in their spot as they waited.

“I didn’t think it would be this packed.” [Name] admitted.

“The last drop has never been like this.” Sevika added.

Once they got their drinks [Name] they silently stood while drinking. Feeling looser, [Name] began to sway to the music. Sevika smirked at her as she quickly finished her drink. Before she could order another, [Name] placed hers down, grabbing Sevika’s hand again.

Leading Sevika to the dance floor, she began to dance. Due to the amount of people around, they were basically pressed up against one another. “Come on? Don’t you want to dance?”

“I don’t.” Sevika deadpanned, standing still as [Name] continued to sway to the music.

“Awe come on now.” [Name] pouted, grabbing her arm, and used it to spin herself.

Sevika’s cold stare softened as [Name] enjoyed herself, staring into Sevika’s eyes, drawing her in. She huffed, slowly swaying back and forth. [Name] could only smile, happy to have someone join her.

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Overall Masterlist

Discord link

#sevika arcane #salo arcane #arcane #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane s2 #sevika x y/n #sevika x female reader #sevika x reader #sevika

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strqyr · 1 year ago

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port and oobleck led the civilian retreat and brought with them as many people as they could. on what looks like one airship.

that... does not sound like a premeditated evacuation with a plan in place, but rather a scramble to get as many people out as possible. especially oobleck's face and posture... it does not scream "we lost the city but saved the people", but rather what happened in vale was yet another mountain glenn for the region.

#rwby #rwby spoilers

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thisbelongsto-nohbodys · 18 days ago

Note

Lily: (walks through the living room)

Percy & Maddi: (asleep on the couch with the TV still on)

Lily: (turns off the TV, picks both of them up, carries them to their own beds, and tucks them in)

Anne, Sasha, & Marcy: (saw the whole thing) Aaaaaw!

Lily: ... (embarrassed) you saw nothing.

As much as they annoy her, Lily is a good big sister who looks out for them. It’s why she was so panicked when they stowed away on Polly’s airship when Lily stole it to have an adventure in New Frogland and be a hero…until it crashed and she had to take them to Port Savisa to get them back to New Newtopia before their moms pick them up.

#ask #calamity siblings #flashfan123

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ff12-ultimania · 25 days ago

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Balfonheim Port

A bustling port town just near Naldoa Sea, Balfonheim serves as a haven for pirates and sky pirates. Although under the Archadian Empire, its autonomy is secured through coin and money.

Once a small fishing village, the town evolved into a thriving shipping hub, leveraging its shipbuilding expertise. Even with the rise of airships, sea transport remains profitable due to lower costs, keeping the port busy. For Kiltian believers, it holds religious significance as the starting point for pilgrimages to Bur-Omisace.

The town’s cobbled streets, narrow alleys, and winding waterways exude a charming maritime vibe. Its lively bazaar is lined with stalls offering local seafood and trade goods brought by merchants and pirates alike.

#ff12 #final fantasy xii #final fantasy 12 #ffxii #reddas #place: balfonheim #place: archadia

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thepenultimateword · 10 months ago

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The Worst Kind of Medal

The war had left more scars on the nation than it had Umbra’s body, so she wasn’t surprised that the airship came in 6 hours later than the schedule had claimed. She was more surprised that she was still standing on the platform, bold-lettered sign locked in her fists at either corner, when it arrived. No one had told her she needed to be at the port when Prince Waylon arrived in Graybourne, only that he was to be her lifelong charge forever after. She probably should have left a soldier here in her place and enjoyed her last few hours of freedom at home.

A bit of guilt pricked her insides. That was unfair. No one had forced her into this marriage arrangement. She’d accepted it–maybe only for the promises that came along with it, but still an acceptance. If she was uncomfortable now, it was her fault.

Several men leaped from the ship deck, ropes coiled under their arms. They rushed to knot the tethers to the docking posts as their feet touched the ground. It was complicated to get a ship back in the air once grounded, so most docks were constructed on cliff faces or in Greybourne’s case on towers. This allowed the ship to remain airborne yet steady for boarding and exiting; the same went for inspections and refueling. The only real reason for a ship to land was in case of major repairs.

The plank dropped, and a surge of people rushed onto the platform. Umbra scanned the crowd, with rapid scrutiny. She wished she’d asked for a photograph of her potential husband before the royal family shipped him here. The monarch probably wouldn’t grant her another reward if she lost him on the very first day.

“Ser Umbra!”

Her gaze shot to the deck where a man with long silvery hair braided crownlike around his forehead and then draped loosely over one shoulder waved over the crowd. Another man, hair-slicked and face creased with a long-suffering frown, reached out to grab him, but the prince was already bounding down the plank. He was more petite than she had expected, his head bobbing in and out of sight as he weaved clumsily through the crowd, bumping shoulders every few steps. As he darted around the last mozying couple, he nearly barreled straight into her chest, but he managed to catch himself just short, tipping up onto his toes in the process.

“Ser Umbra,” he repeated, panting up at her with a broad smile. “I-it’s really you! You came yourself! I really wasn’t expecting to see you straight off the ship! Ryann told me I probably wouldn’t see you until tomorrow morning because of your duties!”

Umbra blinked at him. Her heart felt like it had been seized and clutched hard in her chest.

She’d wondered why the King had suggested Prince Waylon as her groom. It had seemed a very quick choice. She’d figured it was because he was fifth in line for the throne—the royal family wouldn’t marry a soldier to someone who could one day take the crown, no matter how much she’d done for her country. Now, looking at his peeking canines, golden eyes, and long, curling tail, it was abundantly clear this had been a careful act of strategy.

King Esmond had never been shy about taking wives, and as a result, many of his children came from foreign royalty, a way of securing many alliances at once. Not so with the Auskeran princess. Umbra had not yet been born when the marriage took place, but everyone knew that was where the tensions between the two countries had started. With the princess's death.

But now, with the war ended and Auskeran firmly independent from the rest of the world, no foreign alliances were waiting for a half-Auskerian prince. And keeping him around the capital was a liability in itself. His very appearance was a reminder of the recent horrors and a symbol of shame to the King. But he was still of royal blood, and banishments–no matter how merciful–had a habit of coming back to bite. So what did they do? They gave him to a local. Someone high enough to merit such a match but low enough that she couldn’t refuse. Someone who would take all the perks of having a royal spouse as appeasement for the inconvenience of his half-bloodedness.

Still, they had to have known her feelings about such a thing. The war had not ended so many months ago that an Auskerian, even half of one, didn’t bother her. Perhaps that was the very reason they’d said nothing. They wouldn’t want to risk her denial.

“How did you know what I look like?” Umbra said, forcing her clenched jaw apart. He’d picked her out from the crowd on sight. He couldn’t have seen the sign from that distance, could he?

The prince flushed a little. “Father showed me a photograph of the Greybourne division as soon as he told me about the marriage arrangement. He said you’re a general of high standing. You held the eastern front steady for two years before scouting over the border. You won us the war practically singlehanded!”

Umbra was about to explain that it was far more complex than that but Prince Waylon carried on without pause.

“And to think, of all the prestigious matches you could have received, Father chose me! I’ve been showing that photo to everyone for the last month! But it got sort of crumpled from carrying it around too much, so my sister painted your portrait for me as a wedding gift. See?”

He pried open the locket around his neck and leaned forward to show her a very accurate, stoic miniature of her own face. She was dressed in her military uniform, her medal of honor–a medal that she’d really only worn twice, once when it was bestowed and again for a newspaper photo–pinned bold and gleaming to her chest.

“She made one for you too, here!” He fished into his breast pocket and held out a matching bronze locket by its chain.

Umbra watched it swing for a couple moments before she tentatively accepted it. “I, um…” He was staring at her so expectantly what was she supposed to do? She slipped the chain over her head, and the locket settled in the hollow of her chest. “Thank you.”

He continued to stare. Gaze flicking to the locket and back to her face again. He definitely wasn’t subtle.

She picked open the latch and looked vaguely at the companion miniature. “Ah.”

It wasn’t much of a reaction but the prince immediately pounced on it.

“I hope it's ok. I wanted it to be more interesting or at least be smiling, but Isabeau said portraits are supposed to be serious. I’m lucky she let me be as expressive as that.”

“No, no, it’s very nice,” Umbra said. Lied. She hadn’t even noticed whether the portrait had been straight-faced or smiling. She should probably be more excited, or at least appreciative. Princess Isabeau was supposedly a real artistic talent—from the accuracy of her own portrait she had to agree—and her skill mixed with her status, made her paintings some of the most saught after in the kingdom. Now she had one around her neck and she couldn’t even give it a proper enough to look to give a specific detail of praise.

Luckily, Prince Waylon took her words at face value. He noticeably relaxed, and she snapped the locket shut again.

“Prince Waylon!” The other man from the ship shoved out from the crowd, a little more disheveled than he’d been moments ago and lugging two large suitcases. He let the cases drop heavily to the planks and tugged sharply on the ends of his black suit. “A member of the royal family does not fly off like that! You must conduct yourself with decorum! And that means staying with your escort!”

“I was with Ser Umbra, so it was fine,” Prince Waylon said.

The man’s attention flicked toward her, scanning her up and down with an unimpressed expression. As an employee to the royal family why would he be?

“This is Ryann, my escort to Greybourne,” Prince Waylon said. “He’s supposed to return to Ashborough once he sees me settled.

“Ser,” Ryann said with a short bow. “Unfortunately, the royal officiant was delayed, so the wedding will have to be postponed at least a couple weeks. I’m to stay until that point to be another witness.”

Great. The last thing she wanted was time to start overthinking things. She’d wanted this done as quickly as possible. And now, with the prince’s Auskerian features to unsettle her, she wanted it done even faster.

“You both must be tired,” she said, hefting up one of the suitcases. “My car is at the base of the tower. I’ll take you to the house so you can rest.”

“Oh, I’m not that tired–” Waylon began

“You drive?” Ryann interrupted as he grabbed the remaining case. “You don’t have a chauffeur?”

“I have drivers,” Umbra clarified. “For shopping and other errands. I simply prefer the autonomy of driving myself. Don’t worry, I don’t expect Prince Waylon to get along without a chauffeur.”

“Oh, maybe I could learn too?”

“Absolutely not,” Ryann snapped. “You’ll get yourself killed. Besides, who ever heard of royalty driving themselves? You’re not one of the working class.”

Umbra started down the first tower ramp, letting them fall into step beside her. Should she say something? Tell the prince he could try driving if he liked? But her drivers didn’t have time to keep an eye on him and she hadn’t planned on engaging in any extra responsibilities. She also didn’t think there was much point in ruffling the escort further. So she remained quiet.

Prince Waylon didn’t seem to take the denial too hard. He chatted a bit on the way down, pointing out the landscape and buildings as they went. Umbra nodded along, but didn’t listen much; she was more focused on the many glances the prince received from passersby, ranging from curiosity to outright disgust. Ryann must have been aware as well because he kept a protective hand on the prince’s arm the entire way down.

The car waited at the curb for them. A sleek green thing with three steam valves that she’d purchased shortly after the war’s end. It was easier traveling back and forth to the military headquarters this way.

“Here we are.” Umbra popped the door to the trunk, putting away the first suitcase and then taking the second from Ryann.

The escort dusted off his hands, as if the meanialness of the task were a visible smudge on his station. He then stepped back to survey the car’s body. “This is a handsome vehicle.”

Umbra expected it was one of the only words of praise she was going to receive during his stay, but she still couldn’t find it in herself to use it to her advantage. “It does the job.”

“Ser Umbra, can I sit up front with you?” Prince Waylon chirped from the side.

“You’re not going to address me as Ser Umbra our entire marriage, are you?”

His face washed a hot pink. “I wasn’t sure what you preferred.”

“You’re not a part of my regiment. Umbra is fine.”

“Then I’m just Waylon.” He smiled. A sweet, bright-eyed expression that made Umbra’s insides churn like someone was trying to turn them inside out. The officator had better get there fast.

She nodded curtly and circled around to the passenger door, holding it for him as he picked up the ends of his traveling cloak and slid inside. As she closed it behind him, she caught a glimpse of Ryann’s expression before he entered the backseat. Silent approval. Seemed she’d passed whatever test the employee had in mind for vehicle etiquette. She wasn’t look forward to any similar tests. Her rise in the military had granted her a title and a fortune, but she certainly could claim to be as well-bred as anyone in the royal court. Which for many was a sin in itself.

The drive from the port to her small estate lasted only 20 minutes and was mainly quiet. Waylon ooed at every street and building they passed. Umbra couldn’t imagine anything here in Greybourne, a city on the very edge of the kingdom, could surpass Ashborough in all its capital glory. Perhaps he was only trying to be polite. However, as they pulled up the lane to the estate, his nose was almost pressed to the glass.

“It’s beautiful!”

Now Umbra knew he was being polite. The estate was a sturdy, grey-stoned building with two stories and several acres of surrounding meadow. A garage hid humbly and strategically around the back so as not to ruin the aesthetic view of the front or boast the ownership of two cars. It may have been larger than many of the other homes in Graybourne, and yes, it was rather pretty in the golden hour of evening, but it was nothing compared to the manors in Ashborough let alone the palace. Umbra had been dragged into several parties and ceremonies in the capital after the war’s official end, and extravagant was an understatement.

Waylon clutched his locket and mumbled under his breath. “It’s like a dream.”

A dream? What did princes have to dream about?

Umbra circled the drive and parked directly in front of the large oak front doors. Arlin and Madeline must have been watching from inside–she was impressed they stayed at the ready for the entire 6 hours she had been gone–because they rushed out the front the moment she stepped out of the vehicle.

Arlin opened the passenger door before Umbra could make her way fully around, but to his credit, his surprise only lasted a moment. Raised eyebrows shot back down, parted lips promptly pinned shut, and he bowed his head as Waylon stepped down to the gravel drive.

“Your majesty,” Arlin said, then moved on to Ryann’s door.

In the meantime, Madeline had made quick work of unloading the luggage. The bags seemed oversized compared to her small frame, but she showed no struggle as she carried them around. Her reaction to the prince showed more in an exchange of glances with Arlin than a change of expression.

“Welcome back, Miss,” she said, “we were beginning to worry something had gone wrong.”

“Just a slight delay in the ship’s arrival,” Umbra said, passing the car keys to Arlin, who promptly took the car around to the garage. “Madeline, will you show the prince and his escort to their rooms? They’ve had a long trip, and it’s getting late.”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll let Henrietta and the others know that dinner will be served in the guests’ rooms tonight.”

“Thank you. Only tea for me tonight. Please have it brought to my office.” She didn’t think she could stomach anything else tonight. Maybe a cup of tea would settle some of her more turbulent emotions.

“Oh, Ser– I mean, Umbra,” Waylon said, the end of his tail flicking eagerly. “I’m really not tired, and I’d love to see more of the estate, and talk to you more. Maybe we can go for a walk–that meadow back there looks promising–and I can tell you–”

“My prince,” Ryann said firmly. The prince jolted, looking at Ryann with wide eyes. The escort gave him a subtle shake of his head.

Waylon looked down at the gravel, ears going slightly pink. “My apologies Ser Umbra. I overexcited.”

Oh no, she needed to say something didn’t she? Something smart and smooth that saved the prince’s feelings without backing down from her preference for a quiet night. She hated hosting. She especially the politics that came with it.

“I’d be happy to show you around the grounds tomorrow,” she said, hoping it didn’t sound forced. “The sun is about to go down soon and the view can’t be appreciated so well in the dark. Besides the meadow is riddled with rabbit holes; I wouldn’t want you to misstep and break an ankle.”

“Ah.” He raised his eyes toward her. Luminescence crept in at the corners. Once the sun had gone completely down, those eyes would be completely aglow. “That would be unfortunate. I…look forward to tomorrow then.” It was hard to read whether he believed her. His gaze showed some relief, but the wrap of his tail around his leg still spoke to some embarrassment. Nevertheless, some of his old exuberance slipped through the cracks in his politeness. “It was a joy–no, an honor–to begin making your acquaintance.”

Umbra forced eye contact until he turned away, prompted toward the house by Madeline’s beckoning. A cold feeling had lodged itself in the middle of her chest.

She hoped the officiator would come fast.

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