#beauty and wellness in thane

[yarave]

Home Remedies to Get Rid of Open Pores on Skin

Open pores on the skin appear as small pits. Because of open pores, your face appears drab and aged. That is why many people want to get rid of open pores. People with oily skin are more prone to this condition due to excessive sebum production. Open pores can also lead to cosmetic issues such as blackheads and acne.

Mashed Papaya: Papaya is high in antioxidants and contains papain, an enzyme that aids in blemish reduction. It also clears out the pores.

Scrubbing Sugar: Sugar is an excellent exfoliator that easily removes oil and debris from skin pores.

Aloe Vera Gel: Aloe vera is an excellent cleanser. By unclogging the pores, it also nourishes and hydrates the skin.

Mask with Egg Whites: This is an excellent agent for toning, tightening & shrinking large pores. The removal of excess oil is easy. You'll need egg whites to make a peel-off mask for this.

Baking Soda: This aids in skin pH balance and has anti-inflammatory & anti-bacterial properties. It helps to reduce pimples and acne on the skin.

Banana Peel: It contains lutein, an antioxidant that aids in skin rejuvenation and pore tightening, as well as potassium.

Apple Cider Vinegar: With its anti-inflammatory and anti-microbial properties, it acts as a natural skin toner as well as a great treatment for acne breakouts.

Argon Oil: This contains vitamin E and fatty acids, both of which are necessary for keeping the skin hydrated.

Ice Cubes: Applying ice tightens the skin, causing the pores to shrink.

Scrubbing Tomato: It has properties that aid in the removal of excess oil and skin tightening. Lycopene and antioxidants aid in the slowing of the ageing process.

Multani Mitti or Fuller’s Earth: This is used to exfoliate the skin in order to remove excess oil from the surface.

Cucumber: Because of its high water content and antioxidant properties, it aids in slowing the natural ageing process and tightening the pores on the skin.

Jojoba Oil: It has a similar consistency to the oils found naturally in our skin and aids in pore cleansing. It is also useful for treating open pores.

Gram Flour: It is an effective exfoliator for removing dead skin cells, tightening the skin, and reducing pore size.

Oatmeal with Tomato: Oatmeal exfoliates and absorbs oil. Tomatoes have an astringent flavor. When combined, they can help with skin cleansing and pore reduction.

Honey: It is a natural moisturiser and cleanser that improves skin quality. It causes the skin to tighten and the pores to close.

Yogurt: Because of the lactic acid in it, it is beneficial for reducing blemishes and tightening pores. Aside from that, dead cells and impurities are removed.

Olive Oil: It contains phenolic compounds that have anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties & prevents skin issues such as enlarged pores, dryness, itchiness, and others.

Tea Tree Oil: It has astringent properties that help to reduce pore size. It's also an effective antimicrobial agent.

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[dravidious]

"Mono-red is best" "Mono-black is best" Foolish mutterings from foolish fools too foolish to understand their own foolishness. Don't you see? Can't you feel it in the air? This standard is the season...

... of black-red artifact sacrifice.

[dootznbootz]

Can I ask why you hate OdyDio? I’m not super familiar with Greek mythology yet, and I’ve seen OdyDio as fairly popular so I’m curious about the other side lol (I personally don’t ship it just because I can’t imagine Odysseus with anyone other than Penelope tbh).

Because people are literally mischaracterizing both Odysseus and Diomedes to make it work and it spits in the face of what Homophrosyne means 🙃

And people are nuts about it in a way that pisses me off more than any other NOTP/crackship I've had before.

I guess this post, This one, This one, and my friend Thane explained it very well in the tags of her post as well. that people have done about vague fandom is a good explanation if that's all you want as I do rant here lol. NGL, I don't...really care if I'm being mean right now. Like block, unfollow, or ignore me. I wanna rant.

Btw, yeah, I'm being a "hater" but I'll tag right so you can block "#anti odydio" if you must.

I already didn't care for it in the first place, (I've vented about it before) as I agree, OdyPen are literally soulmates. To the point where they have their own WORD for their love. And yet people will fucking insist that "Oh, Odysseus and Diomedes are more compatible". WHERE?

The Odyssey is literally about him trying to go back home to Penelope and their son. And even in the Iliad, Odysseus mentions her. The Odyssey only mentions Diomedes three times and never once by Odysseus (once by Nestor, twice by Menelaus) so... that goes to show how Odysseus feels about him. 🤷 Kind of wild that Odysseus mentions his wife multiple times in both works but says fuck all about his war co-worker. Menelaus was the one who talked about Odysseus so warmly in the Odyssey as well. Y'all just don't "blorbo" him enough to pair him with Odysseus.

I was just neutral about the ship existing because it's like one of those absurd crackships to me but with how popular, fanonized, and just...With HOW people have behaved about it to me ;~;

Ofc, I'm a huge Penelope fan but even with Diomedes, you can't go into his tag without OdyDio. I'm not even joking. I'm sad I've had to block Diomedes' tag as well because people don't tag right AND don't apparently see him as more than Odysseus' "fling" ;~; (I mean at least Penelope and Diomedes can relate to the fact that it sucks that a lot of people are only caring about them because of Odysseus and not because of who they are. :/ )

Just in general, with my own reading of the Iliad, I...WHERE?! xD Where is the "ship"? They are comrades and they're very different from one another personality wise. Sure, they're a good team in combat but in life??? They are not "likeminded" at ALL.

They also have a fairly large agegap, Odysseus being one of the older kings while Diomedes is one of the youngest. I have them around a decade apart in my writing If you bring up pederasty, you will be smited. You're fucking disgusting.

They also have very little in common other than them both being Athena's pets (which um. Penelope is one too, you know?). Odysseus is a fucked up lil warrior trickster who loves his wife and child more than life itself while Diomedes is a young child soldier boy who is incredibly duty bound and war is where he feels most comfortable.

Diomedes would not put up with Odysseus' rambling about his family and Odysseus WANTS to talk about that. They're co-workers.

Diomedes is a younger king who looks up to all these older and more experienced kings. "Notice me, senpai" energy, and I love it!

And I really hate this "Male/Male relationships didn't 'count' back then so it's not cheating!" like, it may not have counted THEN but it should count NOW. Male/Male relationships have counted to THOSE COUPLES and it has ALWAYS counted. Like by saying that, you're already fucking undermining this supposed beautiful relationship by saying "It wasn't seen as real :3 ".

Like is it a real relationship, important and meaningful for both, in which yeah, Odysseus IS emotionally and physically cheating. (unless Pen and him have agreed to be Poly which yes! Go forth if that's the case! :D Give Penny a GF too!) or was it a casual thing that actual just meant "nothing", therefore OdyDio means nothing? WHICH IS IT?!

You can't have your cake and eat it too. You can't vehemently talk about how Odysseus doesn't cheat on Penelope and then think he canonically fucked Diomedes and even had a romantic relationship with him. Is Odysseus a loyal wifeman who adores Penelope or is he a weak-minded "wifeman" who immediately starts fucking his co-worker as soon as his wife is out of sight? He has the self-control for not wanting concubines (correct) but then lacks it with Diomedes? That's not Odysseus. Make an OC at this point.

Like Admit and have fun with a crackship and then yeah, just do it because you find it hot. You don't have to pull stuff outta nowhere in order to have fun with a CRACKSHIP. (I crackship MenOdy sometimes. I know they didn't do that. I admit to the fact that it didn't happen and it goes against their characters to do so. )

OR delve into the possible feelings of Odysseus feeling like he's betraying Penelope by falling in love with another or whatever! And if it's just "casual fucking", y'all. He's fucking married and deeply in love. Have OdyPen KNOW they can both be casual so she won't feel betrayed when he tells her "Oh yeah, me and this guy were fucking during the war. :) Yeah, I fell in love with him too! No, thoughts of you weren't enough to keep me sane, I needed a fuck buddy too. Wait, why are you mad at me?"

As from what I know, with kings especially, you did NOT interact with someone like that of the same rank without consequences of being ridiculed by the others. Odysseus is older and more respected than Diomedes, and Diomedes, who is TRYING to prove himself, would not want to be with another king as that would make people respect him less! If you want to write about it, at least delve into that possible JUICY type of drama that would occur with a CRACKSHIP relationship like this! It's okay to ship something JUST because it's a fetish y'all!

That's just the Canon texts itself as to why I just simply disliked it. The fandom was... yeah ;~; made me hate that it even exists. (Not all! Some of y'all are incredibly kind and respectful of boundaries and I appreciate that! It's just that...Some were not.)

I mean I've had to deal with Aphobia surrounding my OdyPen and along with some asks/people in the past who were TRYING to make me write about OdyDio despite the fact that I've never liked it.

"Hey, I know you don't like this thing, but maybe THIS will change your mind. You have fun ideas so I wanna see what you do with OdyDio!"

Do you know how shitty that feels? 😞 To have people, WHO KNOW YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING, try to make you like it? By sending you links and "headcanons" that will "still work in your writing?" Sending in your asks, DMING YOU SOMETIMES.

That was like, half a year ago and thankfully it's stopped for the most part but I was in such a funk that I didn't even wanna write ANYTHING for a while.

Funny enough? I USED to have this "Oh, Odysseus and Diomedes are exes who fucking hate each other." idea where I aged up Diomedes to make it work, which I now no longer have because I realized I only wrote that way because I thought I HAD to in order to get people to be nice to me. ;~; Because if they're romantic at some point but simply don't click, maybe that'll be enough. To get people to just shut up and stop sending me things. (fuck the anon who sent smut last December. you suck.)

I changed that (now it's Greater Ajax who's his ex. lol. idk ask about it if you want.) because I realized yeah, it was making me unhappy and because I felt like I HAD to. ;~;

I also think it's weirdly because some Odysseus fans almost block out the Odyssey, you know, HIS story, and pretend like he didn't do everything to get home to his loved ones.

I've seen some ridiculous shit about Penelope as well. >:( like holy shit, misogyny everywhere.

"Oh, she didn't trust him and made him cry when she tricked him. She's abusive!" Literally one of the most stupid things I've ever fucking heard. She HAD to be sure it was him and when she knows for sure, she apologizes, explains, and kisses him. Kisses that he desperately and happily returns btw.

"After all Odysseus goes through from the Goddesses, he's afraid of women so he and Penelope separate." ...WHAT?! He literally wants to "embrace in love in their bed" as soon as they stop crying! And she holds him back only to know Tiresias' prophecy, which he DOES TELL HER BTW, before they DO "show love".

"Penelope becomes Odysseus' and Diomedes' surrogate!" ...Wow. Just wow. Love how people will talk about how ancient men in the past only saw women as "breeders" as though they're any fucking different with THIS fucking take.

It's annoying that I'll post a headcanon on tumblr and then the tags are "This but with OdyDio." or that people will often only like/reblog my ODYSSEUS shit and not my Penelope. ;~;

I love how people will be adamant about how "Odysseus never cheated" (true), and yet have him with Diomedes :/ Like at LEAST have OdyPen agree to have an open marriage before they're separated if you're going to pull that stance. (also give Penelope a girlfriend if Odysseus gets a boyfriend, you cowards.)

So many people for some reason only see Penelope for what she is for her husband and that's all. As though that's all she is. And as if Odysseus isn't as intertwined with her as she is with him.

Even with OdyPenDio. I've noticed that it mostly means "OdyDio + Penelope in the fujoshi cuck chair." I've only heard about ONE fic where it's actually about PenDio. (In which Author, you give me hope. It's not my thing but thank you for writing that. <3 The "Sidepieces" deserve love too.) It feels like people masking micro misogyny by forcing M/F couples to be throuples with the man they’d rather see the dude with. Or acting like the only way to enjoy a couple is to make them gay by erasing the woman entirely 🤮

I just... stdrfgyh ;~; I wouldn't hate it so much if people were nice about someone not liking it but the fact that I literally cannot escape it and because some people were just so pushy, I just negative memories I guess.

Either way, I love Diomedes and Sthenelus together :) whether as a QPR or romantic or whatever, those two are like bonded pairs that cannot be adopted separately.

I could go on but yeah. I'm done :)

[justplainwhump]

Left Behind

This is written for today's wij-prompt "Left Behind", @whumpmasinjuly-archive. Thanks to the wonderful @wildfae-afterdark for the inspiration, and as always to @angst-after-dark for their characters Thane and Dami.

[Angel Masterpost]

Angel is left behind. Again.

Content / warnings: BBU, conditioned whumpee, BBU Romantic, intimate whumper, a bit of revenge, and some semi explicit dubcon touching.

"You be a good girl and wait for me," Sir says softly, his hand on her cheek. Angel would love to close her eyes, melt into his touch, to imagine she's used to this tenderness. To imagine she's loved.

She does not close her eyes, though. Doesn't give in to the comfort of the daydream. Sir wants her to look at him, whenever he addresses her. And so she does. Looks into his face directly, eyes wide open, hides nothing.

Sir demands to see "all of her". Because he owns all of her. And all of her, he says, includes every dumb little thought in her dumb little head, every spark of every emotion, every reaction of her body.

And her body does react. To his touch, to his voice, to his sight. She's shivering, despite the temperature in the house, her knees shake, warmth pools between her legs. She wants him. She needs him. So desperately.

He sees it.

He smiles.

"Please," she whispers, knowing it's futile. "Please, take me with you. Please, don't leave me."

Sir pets her cheek. "There's no need for a desperate, clingy pet whore by my side, when I meet my European producers, Angel." His voice still vibrates with the same, soft nuance, that seems to make her mind dissolve into a puddle of need. His thumb runs over her lip. "Gosh. What a pathetic, idiotic slut you are, even thinking that."

"Please," she whispers. "Please. I'm nothing without you."

"Mh," he hums. "That's true, isn't it? But you know what? I want you to be nothing. I ordered you like that. I want you to need me, and I want you to not get me, and I want you to know that is exactly what you're made for."

She swallows. "I... I'm made for -"

"Shhh," he mumbles, slips his free hand between her legs, runs a finger through the wetness beween her folds. She doesn't deny the moan falling from her lips. He hums. "Now, Angel, this is important. Every Romantic is made for getting fucked. And I guess you're decent enough at that. But what you're truly made for is this." He shoves her back into the couch, and she yelps as her shaky legs give in and she falls over the armrest. "You're made to be left back. You're made to long for me, every second of your entire pathetic existence, and you're meant to be denied. You'll never say no, Angel, but you're meant to suffer hearing mine, and here it is. No, sweetheart. You're not coming. You're not getting fucked. You're not getting whole."

Tears well up in Angel's eyes, but she doesn't dare look away. She's good. She's so good. He loves her tears. Maybe this will -

He wipes his fingers off on his pants. "You'll be a good girl and wait for me," he repeats. "You'll be a good girl and miss your owner dearly. I'll be watching from afar." He points at the camera in the corner. "Maybe I call you. Maybe I won't. And you'll stay needy and horny and desperate for me, and not touch yourself. And-"

"Sir," Dami says from the door, their voice hoarse. "The car."

Sir's face changes, as he looks over to them. It gets softer. Satisfied. Angel's heart shatters.

"Coming, Dami. I hope you're looking forward to see Paris again."

"Sir," Angel reaches out.

He's already half way to the door, but stops once more, looks over her. I want to see all of you.

His gaze takes in her naked body, the smeared film of wetness on her thighs, her heaving chest, the tears in her eyes.

"Please," she whispers.

"You're perfect," he says. His smile is beautiful, wide, and he lets her have it, for long seconds, before he adds a single word, clear, even, cruel.

"No."

The door falls shut.

Angel stays behind.

---

-

Angel tag list (lmk if you want to be added or removed): @whumplr-reader @there-will-always-be-blood

[toasterbunnicula]

Mass Effect Character Sexualities because I want to project

(Partly headcanon, bi-ased, personal opinion)

Ashley: straight, formerly homophobic until she realized that most of her Normandy crew mates were gay

Garrus: bi energy, its simply unfair to our gay guys for such an amazing and hot character to not go both ways. Ive also seen too much Garrus/Thane/Shepard fanart to see him any other way

Liara: obviously bi, I hc that she was confused when she first encountered homophobia because it simply doesn’t exist in asari culture (closest thing is the asarixasari stigma)

Wrex: for some reason I see him as bi? I have no idea where I got this but I want to see a tough, old warrior casually mentioning being into both men and women and not caring at all about it (even though I think krogan culture probably wouldn’t approve)

Tali: for my sake as a helpless bi simp, I see her as under the umbrella, but doesn’t realize it. Like me before I came out, Tali would say “yeah she’s really pretty and I want to hang out with her and hug her and stare at her but I’m not gay or anything.” You are. You are gay. I think it would be in character for her to completely miss the fact that she’s into girls as well as men

Joker: straight. The kind of straight to make jokes about his friends’ sexualities, but not mean anything by it. He goes to pride every June with his wife EDI (who I will get to)

Jacob: I honestly can’t believe that he was originally intended to be bi, I just can’t see him into men unless I squint. It’s hilarious that they tried to make his male romance more like Brokeback Mountain so it’d be accepted

Miranda: I’ve seen a headcanon on Pinterest about Miranda having internalized homophobia because it doesn’t line up with her view of genetic perfection, something she’s established to be insecure about. I think it would make perfect sense for her character. I think it’s easy to see her as a lesbian practicing het-comp, especially with how awkward her initial flirting with Shepard is, but there are more scenes in her romance that feel authentic than there are that feel performative, so I’m inclined to say she is bi/pan/omni/etc.

Mordin: I’m pretty sure his asexuality is canon. I also think that he’s aromantic as well, but can objectively assess beauty/attractiveness well. For example, his film noir short story in the Citadel DLC involves a hookup with Aria. I personally believe that is him saying “yeah, she’s attractive, and if I were into women, I’d smash”

Zaeed: he gives off straight uncle who would punch a homophobe for you but otherwise doesn’t know how to interact with you after you’ve come out and tries a little too hard to acknowledge your sexuality but it’s definitely well-meaning (think the “anyone could be they!” scene from Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

Grunt: straight and supports his bi parents (Shepard and Garrus/Thane/Tali/Liara), wears rainbows at Pride for them, and regularly headbutts homophobes

Jack: I’m forever salty about them erasing her pansexuality. Also she and Miranda should’ve kissed

Kasumi: also gives off pan energy. She definitely feels like the type to not care about gender at all- as long as they’ve got muscles, that’s all that matters to her

Thane: pan energy

Samara: as established, Samara is bisexual

Legion: ace, non-binary (goes with people using he/him based on its masculine voice, pronouns are they/it)

Kelly: she said so herself, she doesn’t care about race/species or gender, all that matters is the person 💖💛💙

EDI: something about Sentient AI Who People Initially Don’t Trust Until She Gets A Humanoid Body That People Can Better Associate With Her reads to me as a trans allegory. Obviously, she’s not trans, but the vibes are there. Many times, people are suspicious of trans women until they transition and pass more as cis, which is similar to EDI’s story. She learns more about herself after her body changes, and others start to appreciate her more and have an easier time referring to her with she/her pronouns. As for her sexuality, she doesn’t seem to lean any particular way to me. She doesn’t seem like the type who’d use labels, even though it would make sense for her to “categorize” herself. I’d say she’s unlabelled- definitely into men, with her relationship with Joker

James: as much as I wish we could get gay gym bro representation, James is great as he is, being a masculine straight guy who’s best friends are openly gay (Cortez) and bi (Shepard)

Traynor: lesbian (canon), definitely into women who can crush her head under their heel but also has a dominant side herself

Cortez: gay (canon)

Diana: that annoying and popular bi girl you secretly had a crush on but didn’t want to because she was intimidating and popular

[messydiabolical]

My latest rarepair obsession: Thane Krios x Steve Cortez, aka, Kriortez <3 <3 <3 [This is a cropped version of a larger un tumblrable piece. Full piece is on my twitter, same name as here]

More about Kriortez under the cut. (Includes descriptions of sexual situations).

I can't stop thinking about them: with the love and support of his found family and reconnection with his son, Thane decides to pursue keprals treatment. The powers of Mordin and Miranda help him kick ass. Refreshed and ready to fight by his dear friend Shepard's side, Thane rejoins the Normandy, where he encounters the beautiful, loyal, warm perfect man that is Steve Cortez. Both being widows gives them a connection, but it's not just that: I genuinely feel that these two characters would bond SO WELL. The always a way with words @zet-sway described it so much better than I could: "I'm just imagining their relationship. Both of them, professional as fuck. House is impeccably clean. They're well spoken and dependable. And the moment their spark is lit they're on each other like white on rice, handprints on the windshield, clothes on the floor, having loud, messy, intense sex on whatever available surface. Cortez has bite marks under his collar, Thane is still dripping by the time they go out for dinner. Heart eyes for days."

[hazelestelle]

Rarepairs! - A SpecRecs Rec List

@spectre-requisitions-exchange authors were revealed (last week XD), and I finally have time for some recs!

First, my wonderful amazing gift!

Stars With One by @wickedwitchofthewilds. I am so happy that you chose Harry Carlyle/Scott Ryder for me, and I love it so much! It's so sweet and a little spicy too.

There's so many great stories and you should definitely check out the collection, but here's some assorted recs:

On The Shore (From A Distance) by kaijuburgers. Kaidan Alenko/Citadel Doctor. It's so lovely and bittersweet, and I love Miles! Byte Me by Kalliesa. Legion/Female Shepard. It is so hot, omg! Trust Me, I'm a Doctor by @cat-shepard. Harry Carlyle/Sara Ryder. The doctor is in! It's so sexy, and the puns are amazing! Stitched Together by @ferindencadash . James Vega/Male Shepard. The slow burn, the pining, the flirting! It has it all. oil & water by forceinsensitive. Gil Brodie/Kallo Jath. The enemies to lovers ships! It's so well done, the world building is incredible and the relationship development is fantastic. Taking on the Broker by @alyssalenko. Shadow Broker/Female Shepard. It's hot. Like, hello?? Be Gentle by FinchMarie. Thane Krios/NB Shepard. It's art. Just look at it. So beautiful. A Deal is a Deal by @vorchagirl. More Shadow Broker/Female Shepard, because yes! a still, small voice by calypsid. Urdnot Wrex/Female Shepard. An amazing exploration of Shepard's character, and very hot sex too.

Of course, I also wrote some things myself :)

comm chats and more, Diana Allers/Samantha Traynor. Diana and Samantha talk a lot over the comms. And then in person. when push comes to shove, Akksul/Scott Ryder. Akksul and Scott's arguments turn physical in the best way. pour me a whiskey melody, Harry Carlyle/Reyes Vidal. According to Sara, Harry really needs to go out and have some fun. So he does just that. afterparty, Urdnot Wrex/Female Shepard. Shepard and Wrex have sex in a hot tub. That's it, that's the story. salt and pepper, Alec Ryder/Cora Harper. Cora is fascinated with Alec. She knows it won't go anywhere. Or maybe it will?

Happy reading! <3

[astorythatwritesitself]

Kiss meme: Shrios for 39 because I want you to hurt me.

39 - A kiss because… time's run out.

(Ao3/bonus version here)

@ me: hey why the fuck'd you write this

Breathe, it's over now, over now.

It's been six months, since the war's end.

Five, since the prognosis.

'A matter of weeks,’ the doctor had said. 'Months, if you're very lucky.’

Adrian had taken it fairly well, all things considered. Vanished for a few hours, along the beach trails near their home, but there had been no tears. Hardly even a tremor in her voice, when she'd said: 'we always knew we were on borrowed time.’ Thane is simply grateful for each day that passes without incident.

It's been small things, mostly. A misplaced item. More notes around the house - reminders of appointments, when to feed the fish, where things were. Tasks left undone, things dropped because her hands won't cooperate. Her biotics failing, once again. Longer pauses in conversation, where she struggles to find her words. Worse - he knows he's not seeing all of it, nor the worst of it. Had she simply been so caught in her own mind? Or had it, like so many things, slipped, when he would be home? Regardless, Thane can't bring himself to rob her of that illusion - but he remembers those long hours on the Normandy. The strange, hazy warmth in her voice as she recited her favorite poems for him, the words flowing like swift waters, her love for them sweeping him along even when they did not translate so well. To hear those same words just the other day, clipped and faltering, incomplete...

'She could be wrong, siha-’ Thane starts. Starts, but the words catch in his throat as Adrian presses closer, arms tightening around his waist. Her lips brush his shoulder - or so he chooses to believe. He can't bring himself to look, to see if she is crying.

‘You can rebuild a lot of things, but a brain's pretty high up there in ‘experimental’,’ she replies, only the faintest of tremors in her voice. ‘I'd… always wondered. If it wouldn't burn out fast, or break down - and that's on its own, being around that much Reaper crap? If they were trying to indoctrinate me or anything…’

That's as far as the conversation goes. The next day - week, ultimately - will be for shoring up what she'd prepared during her arrest, handling any other affairs. What remained of the night was simply to be enjoyed, to commit to memory all they could, before the chance passed by.

—

He's steeled himself as best as he can, to spend no time mourning now, not when there's still more good days than bad. More days than they'd dreamt of having when they'd first met, more days than seemed possible, during the war. A day like this, where Shepard is already awake, taking over the kitchen table with her latest ship model, and Thane almost believes that their future stretches out far and away, beyond whatever either of them could imagine. Her hands are steady, and he can almost forgive the faint, burnt odor lingering in the air, because it means she's remembered to eat on her own. He sits beside her, and they talk for a while - about Vega's upcoming visit, the inaccuracies of the Normandy model strewn before her, Kolyat's last message; and all the while, her words come without trouble, with no grasping or fumbling to recall this detail or that.

—

“We don't have anything else going on today, right? I was thinking, maybe we could go to the beach,” Shepard says after a while, as she starts cleaning up her workspace. “It's beautiful out there.”

Thane hums a brief agreement from where he stands, just behind where she sits, clearing up the last of the dishes of his meal. “That would be lovely, siha,” he replies. Sets the plate aside and turns, resting a hand on Adrian's shoulder. Is about to say something, when she looks up at him, a faint and fretful half-smile on her lips.

“I think my translat-”

Her expression falters - confusion and then a slow, horrified comprehension. (’I think my translator just glitched. What did you call me?’)

She grips his hand, as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. He leans down, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, all the while reminding himself, there will be more good days ahead.

But there's no denying now, that they are numbered.

[ladyofsnark]

Garrus wasn’t jealous.

He liked Lex. He respected her–admired her, even.

And true, he also thought Lex was beautiful. He didn’t have a human fetish, but there was something about her that went so much deeper than appearances. The way she commanded attention. The way everyone turned to look at her. That kind of presence–that power–was intoxicating in its own way. He was cocky, but he knew what to be cocky about. He knew his strengths and played to them. Lex played to everything and anything with a devastating amount of self-assuredness. Or suicidality. It was hard to tell sometimes.

He glanced back out the windows that looked down into the shuttle bay. They’d created a makeshift firing range there to test their weapons and help the team blow off steam in between missions and long stints at the Citadel. It was Kelly's idea, since half of the ground team needed anger management lessons and this was as close as they would get.

There was no real danger to it. Nothing short of actual AA guns could pierce the Normandy's hull and they used soft-polymer rounds for safety in close quarters, so the most anyone was risking was a painful bruise. Of course, Lex loved it. She cared for her rifles like they were her children and she never wasted an opportunity to tinker with them.

But she was practicing with Thane.

Garrus sighed and pushed away from the window. It bothered him and it bothered him that it bothered him. Lex also practiced with him and with Grunt and Zaeed and she and Jack challenged each other to trick shots when they weren’t being supervised.

Hell, he liked the assassin. Respected him, even. It seemed like there was a sore lack of good people in the universe and few tried half as hard as Thane did to be one.

So why this? This irrational annoyance. This irritation. He couldn’t help but think back to Oraka in Chora’s Den moping over Sha’ira and it didn’t do great things for his ego.

Garrus was so distracted he didn’t even hear the elevator ping. 

“Hey, I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” Jon said as he stepped off. “I looked in the main battery and thought something must have gone horribly wrong to drag you away from your terminal. What’s up?”

Garrus straightened, looking away quickly from the shuttle bay. “Nothing,” he said. “I just came down here to talk to the engineers about the power draw from the new guns.”

Jon leaned against the opposite bulkhead and then glanced out the window, at his sister who was listening to Thane explain something to her with rapt attention. “Uh huh.”

It was more of a grunt than words, loaded with as much skepticism as the older of the Shepard twins could muster.

Before Garrus could make good his escape, Jon spoke again: “You two are a lot alike, you know.”

Garrus gave him a dubious look. “How?”

“Well for one, you’re both dumbasses,” Jon said, surprising a laugh out of the turian, who then reached up to rub the sore side of his face. The man smiled, only half apologetic. “My sister tells me everything and I can count on one hand how many times she’s said she loves me. So, if you’re waiting for her to make the first move, you’ll be waiting for a while.”

Spirits, they were so unmistakably related. Jon might have been the diplomat of the pair but that was only by default, because Lex’s idea of diplomacy involved a dictionary of curse words and probably at least one explosion.

Garrus glanced back down at the shuttle bay, at Lex. “I’m sure she wants something closer to home…”

“And closer to home is someone else with scales? And hallucinogenic saliva?” Jon snorted. “Garrus. Think of it like this. You’re up here pining for a woman who would have thrown her whole life–her whole career–away to go with you to Omega. I can tell you right now, Lex wouldn’t do that for anyone else. Maybe not even me. So the only thing in your way is you.”

He had a point. He usually did, but this was a particularly annoying example.

"You're her brother, aren't you supposed to be threatening me? Not trying to set us up?" Garrus asked, with humor.

Jon laughed. "When we were sixteen one of the Reds decided to cop a feel and Lex almost beat him to death with a datapad. I don't need to come to her rescue. Yours, maybe. But not hers."

[nowandthane]

Mass Effect Trilogy Tag

tagged by @menacingmetal thank you!!!! <3

tagging @grim-starling @stormikins @vakariansvixen @westernlarch @illusivesoul @drelldreams @xoshepard (i know you already got tagged but tag me in yours too if u do it i wanna see it xD) <3 and anyone else who wants to do this!!

I am a fan since: I first played in September 2022 and it's consumed my life since! I had the OT since like 2018/19??? but i couldnt play because it gave me motion sickness kjdfhgkdf then I got MELE free cause amazon was doing a thing and by that point i had friends who taught me to mod the game and i can play with relatively few issues now :3

Favourite game of the series?: oooh idk i love them all and i played them first time all in a row so theyre kind of like one game to me... probably me2?

MShep or FShep?: femshep. ive yet to complete a game with anyone other than femshep. well, anyone other than sarani specifically lmao but hopefully that'll change xD

Earthborn, Colonist or Spacer?: earthborn!! (sarani again xD)

Biotics or Tech: tech (again... sarani. she is not a biotic)

Paragon or Renegade: paragon choices, renegade dialogue xD

Favourite Class: infiltrator!! ive never played a class other than infiltrator (yes, you guessed it, sarani :3) but im trying out vanguard like anytime now so we'll see?

Favourite Companion:

Least favourite Companion:

you could put a gun to my head and i still wont answer those two i will not choose

My squad selection: i dont really have a main i think? it depends on who's narratively appropriate for the mission, then on who will help me most with their build. i try to make sure everyone has equal time cause i wanna see them all....

Favourite In-game romance: well it's def thane if youve known me a while youd know i used his name for like over a year while i was figuring out my gender stuff xD also garrus and tali ofc <3 but tbh they're all good!! with the exception of jacob cause bioware did him so dirty ugh

Other pairings I like: joker/edi, miranda/ashley, miranda/jack are some of my faves but tbh this world is my playground i WILL mix and match them xD

Favourite NPC: jenkins nihlus and aethyta, i kind of really want her to [liara shoots and kills me]

Favourite Antagonist: Saren for sure i need him to choke me

Favourite Mission: Priority: Tuchanka probably... i love mordin so much and his arc... beautiful

Favourite Loyalty Mission: Tali!!!

Favourite DLC: arrival. ok no lmao. omega probably!

Control, Synthesis or Destroy: destroy i guess but only because i pretend the geth and edi dont die lmao.

Favourite Weapon: black widow!!!!!

Favourite Place: Rannoch

A quote I like: Tali's 'The difference was you.' and 'I got better. I got you.' (very romance specific i know i love her okay) garrus's 'gray... i dont know what to do with gray.' legion's 'do these units have a soul?' kolyat saying 'the prayer was for you' when wrex says shepard is a sister to him

im gonna go cry now

[wellthebardsdead]

Riiju-Lei: *sighs with relief up at breezehome as they approach through the still quiet early morning streets of whiterun* Home at last…

Nerevar: I passed by this place so many times when I first arrived here and I had no clue you were just behind these doors…

Riiju-Lei: that explains the random bouts of excitement I had then. I played a lot of tag with the kids those days. Speaking of which, I hope Caryalind handled looking after everyone okay- *opens the door to find Lydia cleaning up the mess the kids had made of the house, Khash quietly helping her and Caryalind passed out from exhaustion by the fireplace* oh dear.

Lydia: *looks up* oh my thane!

Khash: DAD!!! *drops the broom and runs to Riiju jumping up into his arms*

Riiju-Lei: *laughs and hugs her tight* Hello little shadowscale!

Caryalind: *jumps and flails out of his chair with a thud* Ugh! Hnuh?? *looks up to see the group entering* You’re back! It went well I take it??

Riiju-Lei: *smiles* better then just well. *sets Khash down gently* Everything… here? Go well?

Caryalind: *still on the floor* Oh yes, just fine, the kids were delightful…

Riiju-Lei: *quirks his brow*

Caryalind: …Alesan put lizards in my underwear, Blaise got caught shoplifting, Sofie kept bringing wild animals into the house and Lucia broke her hand punching Braith in the face… Khash was the only well behaved one.

Riiju-Lei: *sighs* thank you cary, go have a proper rest I’ll get our new friends settled in and make us all breakfast.

Caryalind: new fri- *spots nerevar then goes visibly pink as Miraak suddenly steps over him offering his hand* I-

Miraak: Let me help you up.

Caryalind: oh my you have a very deep voice- *shakily takes his hand and instantly gets pulled to his feet*

Taliesin: *brow twitching feeling protective of his prince* …

Kaidan: *gives his ass a squeeze* oi. Leave him be.

Riiju-Lei: *snickers taking nerevars hand and leading him upstairs as everyone else starts to unpack and relax* I’ll come help you clean up in a minute Lydia, thank you.

Lydia: *smiles at him and nerevar as they go by* thank you my thane.

Nerevar: *follows Riiju upstairs and into the master bedroom* it’s a lovely house you have here, your daughter is adorable too but… her tail- sh- she wasn’t hurt was she?

Riiju-Lei: hm? Oh Khash. No she just wasn’t born with one. She’s small but she’s the oldest of my kids. The others must all be still asleep. Usually she comes along on adventures, she’s an excellent fighter but… given miraak sent cultists after me and they targeted my family specifically… I didn’t feel safe bringing her along. *chuckles* funny how he’s now downstairs wooing the prince of the aldmeri dominion.

Nerevar: *brain short circuiting* I’m sorry he’s the what now?

Riiju-Lei: oh right, there’s a lot you need to catch up on. I’m sure we’ll discuss it over breakfast but let’s get you unpacked first yes? *smiles at him before dropping his pack on the bed to empty it*

Nerevar: … *smiles and gently embraces him from behind, resting his head against his shoulder* you’ve built a beautiful life here LeiLei… you found so many people who love you and a place where you can feel safe.

Riiju-Lei: *gently reaches back running his fingers through his soft white hair* and now I can finally feel that love thanks to you making me whole again… my moon and star…

Nerevar: *slides his hands up his torso beginning to playfully tug at and undo the straps of his armour* there was a place within my heart empty for too long when I was without you… im glad we’re finally together again… My Voryn…

Riiju-Lei: …I think we can wait a few minutes for breakfast don’t you?

*meanwhile downstairs*

Sero: They’re certainly taking a while up thei-

A wine bottle on the kitchen table: 🍾

Kaidan: and they’re fucking.

Taliesin: *sighs* I’ll get breakfast started.

[annabawritersdream]

✍️✍️✍️

(I cheated and now you have to pick 3 bwahahahaha)

Thank you for the ask! It took me a long time to pick them, but I have my three characters at last! I'm going to talk about Hilde (Rohirrim OC), Lóthuil and Meleril (Gondorian OCs; youngest daughters of Aragorn and Arwen. Their older sister Gilraen appears in my Gaps and Ghosts one-shot for Tolkien OC Week 2024)

Hilde

She's not of noble origin and is native of Rohan. She spent her early childhood in the Westfold (she was born there) and, although she never had a title, she was not always poor. She comes from a family of traders—they primarily traded horses, but also clothes, barley and other items—and they used to be “rich” compared to their neighbors. That was before the War of the Ring, when Saruman’s forces as well as Dunlendings attacked and burned the Westfold. Her family lost everything—I headcanon that those who are not nobles live together in the same house like a big family and support one another unconditionally in whatever someone might need—and Hilde’s grandparents died trying to save their possessions. All of their children died (they had five children total) except for Hilde’s father, who was a child of ten at the time (roughly around TA 3018/3019). Settlements in the Westfold were eventually rebuild once Éomer became King and Hilde's father served Grimbold, Thane of Grimslade, for a time. Grimbold gave him a place to stay in his manor and paid him a weekly salary of ten coins. As a result, he amassed quite a bit of money and, at the end of his service to Grimbold, he had amassed quite a bit of money. He was then able to leave the Westfold to settle in Aldburg, capital of the Eastfold and former capital of Rohan. He found himself a decent house—not a mansion or anything, but still, a nice little house with all that he needed to live comfortably—and, a few years later, he found himself a wife as well. Unfortunately his wife was a beautiful as she was inconsiderate and shallow and spent all of her husband’s money while he was away. (This happened roughly around FoA 9 when Éomer and Aragorn and their armies where busy subduing the Haradrim. I headcanon it was no major battle or anything, but everyone thought a major conflict would erupt, so everyone who could wield weapons was summoned to join the army). When Hilde's father returned home, he quickly found he no longer had money and, of course, things between him and his wife were never the same again. He did not divorce her (I don't even know if divorce exists in Rohan, I should look it up), but they were only married in name. Hilde’s dad started working as an assistant blacksmith and, although it was hard at first since he knew nothing of the craft, he quickly learned the basics and, overtime, he became quite good at it. He also decided to resume what had been his family's business for generations—trading horses. He thus found a way to make money again; money which he promptly hid from his wife. They were no longer on speaking terms and he often spent his nights at the blacksmith workshop to avoid being with her. The hostility continued until she got sick a few years later. Out of pity, he decided to sort of rekindle their relationship and took care of her until she got better. Hilde was at last born in FoA 17. With her mom fully recovered and quite a bit of money coming in (and somewhat of a repaired relationship), they started to act like a normal family and had quite a happy life for a few years. The money and other valuables and most things still remained hidden—I think Hilde's mom was actually kleptomaniac, it's just that her illness was not known in Rohan….for obvious reasons—but they found a way to make their relationship work (mostly for the sake of their child, but also for themselves).

It seems like they got their happy ending, right? Well,…not exactly. They had a few happy years before Hilde’s dad died. Shortly before his passing, he had decided to tell his wife where he kept his money trusting that she would use it to take care of the house and of her daughter. She promised to do so and tried to abide by her promise, but she soon went back to her old ways and squandered all the money again (this time, out of sadness rather than selfishness…I mean, it’s still a bit selfish, but I think she tried to forget about her pain by spending and buying as much stuff as she could. Useless stuff, mostly). Seeing how irresponsible her mother was, Hilde decided pretty early on that she had to earn her own money if she hoped to survive—her mom mostly bought random, useless stuff instead of, you know…food, water, utilities…that kind of irrelevant stuff no one cares about—and started working as a cleaning lady for highborn people. Her mother died at some point, but the two of them were never really close as she blamed her for her misfortune and for her father's death. She basically just paid the funeral expenses and that was it, I am not even sure she attended the funeral. Probably not, though. After a few years of cleaning mansions and places belonging to nobles, she was recommended to Éomer. She was pretty famous among people attending banquets at Edoras and someone in Éomer’s inner circle mentioned her name. A few weeks later she was officially summoned to Edoras and started working there, cleaning floors, helping in the kitchen and occasionally serving meals.

Now, time-skip to FoA 39.

Wyn is in Pelargir visiting Anárion and keeps talking to him about Rohan and the fact that she wants to visit her grandmother's country. Anárion at first tries to dissuade her—he knows their mom will never give them permission to go and he also knows Eönwë doesn't want to get involved in personal things of this kind—but then he reluctantly agrees to take her to Edoras. He has to ask his grandfather for information because he barely knows where Rohan is and has him write a letter to Éomer announcing their visit. I sort of imagine Éomer going like “oh, yes, my sister's grandchildren…how many are they and what do they look like?” and Lothíriel being like “I have absolutely no idea”. That's funny to me. A few weeks later they receive a letter saying that they're welcome to visit if they wish and a few days/weeks later, they finally get to Edoras. Lothíriel hosts a welcome dinner and Hilde is there serving meals. That's when Anárion first sees her and he's immediately attracted to her. Enna has tried in vain to set him up with a Gondorian lady of her choosing (one of the many girls at her “finishing schools”) but Anárion is not really interested. She's not ugly or rude in any way, but he makes it pretty clear he doesn't want to marry her. He sees Hilde and he's immediately drawn to her, but he's kind of disappointed when he realizes she doesn't speak Westron. She only knows a few words she overhead from other people, but, due to her circumstances, she could never afford to get an education and knows nothing about what lies beyond the borders of Rohan. She is not familiar with most places in Rohan either, actually. She's never had a chance to travel so her knowledge about basically everything around her is…extremely limited. Anárion tries to talk to her, but the minute he does, she burts into tears and runs away, hiding in the stables. She spends the night there and the following morning she is back at work. Anárion and Wyn stay in Rohan for about a month—his grandfather is the only one to know that they're not in Pelargir—and Anárion tries several times to start a conversation with her.

Éomer has noticed his interest in Hilde and teaches him a few basic sentences in Rohirric (or is it Rohanese?) so that he can at least explain who he is. Anárion writes them down and practices in his room that very night, but, when she shows up, he gets nervous and just ignores her. He has to read the sentences off his piece of parchment to actually speak to her and, when he tries to do so a few days later, she just frowns and looks around. He thinks he's hopeless and leaves her alone. Wyn sort of ships them already though and tries to help. She asks Lothíriel for help and learns a few other sentences on her own before she visits her in the kitchen. Hilde is washing dishes and sweeping floors when Wyn sneaks up on her and nearly gets hit in the head. Hilde tries to apologize and the two girls start “talking”. On Wyn’s part, it's a lot of mumbling, hand gestures and random words, but Hilde sort of understands what she wants to say. Over the following days, Wyn drags Hilde to Anárion’s room while also involving Éothain into the whole thing. I don't know how Wyn meets Éothain yet, but she's so bubbly and happy that it's nearly impossible for anyone to dislike her. So, Éothain acts as the official interpreter for the two of them (Anárion and Hilde) and Anárion tells her a bit of his life-story and also says his mom has a school for girls and that anyone is welcome. Wyn immediately understands what his plan is and insists (she basically nags her nonstop) until she reluctantly accepts. They all talk to Éomer and Lothíriel about it (they also talk about Enna, how she's doing etc…) and the King and Queen of Rohan agree to let her go, but only if she's willing to do so herself. Hilde is not afraid of them and sort of likes Wyn, but she's nervous because she knows nothing about Gondor and probably doesn't even know who Enna and Eönwë are. They give her a few more days to think it over until she willingly says she'll go. They take their leave and are back in Ithilien a few weeks later. That's where things get interesting. Anárion tells Enna that a new girl that may benefit from her schooling. Enna is initially very happy about it as she assumes he's referring to some Gondorian lady he met (remember that she did not know he and Wyn had secretly traveled to Rohan) and asks to meet her. Wyn tells attendants to give her a bath and prepare a suitable dress and a meeting between the two of them is arranged. Hilde tries to tell them that she doesn't feel comfortable meeting anyone unless either Wyn or Anárion are there with her and they both readily accept to escort her to their mom and keep her company. Anárion is a bit nervous about introducing her to his mother (he's painfully aware that she loathes anything Rohan-related), but, by this point, he's fully smitten with Hilde and thinks his mom will understand how he feels. Also, he feels it's about time Enna got over her trauma and dealt with it as any adult would. The two of them meet and Enna thinks she's hallucinating Éowyn (they kind of look like one another). As a result she has a major, full-blown panic attack, which the physicians nearly mistake for a heart attack. Hilde doesn't know what's going on and thinks it's her fault and tries her best to apologize. Mírion runs to his mom—he’s constantly checking on her—and as soon as he sees Hilde (and the way Anárion looks at her), he connects the dots. He calls the healers and puts his mom to bed, refusing any help from Anárion. Wyn immediately understands Mírion is about to snap and conveniently escorts a very confused and saddened Hilde out of the room and shows her around.

Once Enna is taken care of, Mírion storms out and Anárion follows him. He prods for an explanation, but Mírion flees to his chambers and locks the main door, eventually opening it up again since Anárion keeps on knocking. A very loud argument ensues—Mírion’s like “you were in Rohan having fun with that girl while I was here taking care of our family, huh?” and basically tells him to stop fooling around and to focus on the girl he's supposed to court aka the one Enna picked for him. Anárion yet again says he does not wish to marry her and Mírion says his feelings don't matter and that he should please his mother. (Mírion is indeed courting/spending time with the lady Enna picked for him. She’s also from her finishing school and, although he finds her well-mannered and very beautiful, he is not sure about his feelings for her. Not that it matters since he'll do anything to please his mom. He's understandably obsessed with her wellbeing and would kill himself if either she or Eönwë asked it of him). Anárion is more like “I love you so much, Mother, but it's my life, not yours.” The two bothers have completely different opinions on the matter and they momentarily fall out with one another. Long story short: Mírion doesn't approve of Hilde—he thinks Anárion should have known better—and Anárion doesn't care. He adores his baby brother, but he has a will of his own and won't dismiss a girl he likes just because his mother doesn't approve of her. Mírion would do so at once just to make her happy instead. That's the main difference. So, while Enna’s sons stop talking over this apparently trivial matter, Finnie sides with Wyn and Hilde and helps Hilde learn a bit of Westron. Hilde bonds with both girls, but I think Wyn will become her bestie. Anárion is already in love with her and Hilde falls for him as she gets to know him. Before she dies, Enna gives them permission to marry and once Sauron is finally dead, the two of them marry and Hilde becomes lady of Lebennin. They'll have a daughter, Éowyn, (as a tribute to the person that believed in them the most as well as to the most woman in Rohirric/Rohanese history) and a son. Mírion will eventually apologize and rekindle his relationship with his brother before he leaves for Valinor.

Fancast for Hilde: Aimee Richardson.

Aimee Richardson as Hilde and Archie Barnes as Anárion

Literally his face the first time he saw Hilde

Also, ship name is probably Hilderion

Lóthuil

Princess of the Reunited Kingdom, second daughter of King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Her name means "Spring Flower".

She was born in FoA 16 shortly after Enna’s wedding to Eldarion. Arwen wasn't actually supposed to attend the wedding, but she insisted on it because she did not want to miss her little boy’s special day. I haven't picked a day for Eldarion and Emma's wedding yet, but I think Lóthuil will be born roughly a week later. She was born in the spring, hence her name.

Lóthuil’s birth was very difficult for Arwen, which is why Aragorn decides they won't have any more children. Personality-wise, Lóthuil is much more of a lady than her older sister, but she too is very blunt and not cut out for courtly life. She only is smarter about it and, contrarily to her sister, she knows how put on a poker face. She also tends not to be extremely blunt when addressing her parents and, contrarily to her sister, she doesn't talk back if she disagrees with her parents’ decisions. She makes her ideas known, but she's much subtler and way more gentle when communicating with her elders, which is why Aragorn pays way more attention to her. Despite their age difference (thirteen years) she's extremely close with Gilraen and tries to quietly support her. Gilraen and Daerion get married in FoA 22 when Lóthuil is eight years old—yes, Aragorn does actually wait until his eldest daughter comes of age before officially marrying her off. I think the whole Enna/Eldarion marriage fiasco made him realize a few things. I think he also wants to be certain Daerion actually cares for Gilraen. Upon his betrothal to Gilraen, Daerion is created lord of Lossarnach and Gilraen is escorted there as well, since she is to be the fief's future lady. Lóthuil will be visiting her sister very often and, although she has her own nanny and a bunch of other people at her service, she will be mostly raised by Estella (Gilraen’s governess and de-facto mom). Gilraen will of course escape to Dol Amroth as often as she possibly can and will take Lóthuil with her and the two of them will secretly spend a lot of time with “Aunt” Mörwen, Aragorn’s first cousin (her father was canon Gilraen’s older brother; an OC I won't be developing since he has no impact on the story itself). absolutely nothing. I feel like Aragorn will eventually learn to value his daughters. He loves them but for some reason he cannot show it that much and they are both hurt his aloofness around them. Both girls take up archery as a hobby to deal with their frustration and, according to Uncle Legolas, they are both excellent. Both girls are very good friends with both Enna and Nel and, after Enna marries Eönwë and sets up her “finishing school”, Lóthuil is one of the first people to be officially enrolled. This is something Eldarion suggests as he hopes it can work in his favor as well.

By then he genuinely wants to make amends and apologize to Enna and thinks Lóthuil may be key to a reconciliation of sorts. Although he will always be Aragorn and Arwen’s beloved boy. I feel compelled to mention that Aragorn is no longer as blinded by his actions after the whole accident/scandal involving Enna and their unborn baby. I think that’s what prompts Aragorn to value his daughters a bit more, and the event, although tragic for the realm and for Enna, marks the beginning of his improved relationship with Gilraen. He won’t completely change his mind straightaway, but he realizes that he was wrong to overlook his daughters. He spends a lot more time with them and actually asks for their opinion on quite a few matters. Eldarion’s opinion is definitely still more important to him, but the girls’ ideas are not dismissed either.

Now, back to Lóthuil. While she is not a poor student as far as music, literature and other subjects are concerned, she is absolutely atrocious at embroidering, playing instruments and acting…like a princess. Enna tries to teach her a few things and takes her into her service as one of her ladies-in-waiting, but she quickly realizes she’s far too similar to Gilraen to be trusted as a lady-in-waiting. Mind you, Enna ADORES both girls, but…even she has to admit they are not cut out for court life. Knowing Aragorn is still trying to marry her off to people and knowing full well there’s no chance she will get to be happy with the nobles Aragorn has an eye on, she arranges for her to travel North. She has always had a fascination with all things Arnor and Enna hopes she will be able to find some lasting happiness there. She talks Aragorn into letting her go and the King eventually agrees.

On her way to Annúminas—she goes on her own without soldiers to protect her. She doesn't like to be followed—she decides to visit an inn in Tharbad just to rest a bit and she meets a group of boys who start bothering her and making comments about her unkempt appearance and so on. Just as she’s about to confront them, another boy more or less her age tells the group to mind their own business. Lóthuil frowns as she notices everyone bowing to him and casually asks the bartender about him. It turns out that the boy who defended her is the son of the lord of Tharbad. She looks at him and immediately thinks he is gorgeous despite his ridiculous haircut. I have come up with a few scenes of them practicing archery together and gradually becoming friends (she kind of already likes him, but wants to get to know him to make sure he falls in love with her and not with her family/titles, which is why she doesn’t tell him she’s one of the princesses when he asks for her name. I think she actually gives him a fake name which is yet to be decided. They will marry a few years later (dates are yet to be decided, but I think they’ll marry around FoA 38/39). I think her husband’s name will be Idhrenion. (Ship: Lóthrenion)

Ewan Mitchell as Idhrenion & Marina Moschen as Lóthuil

Gorgeous with a ridiculous haircut. Ewan Mitchell just fits.

Meleril

Born in FoA 19, she is the youngest daughter of King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Arwen and Aragorn did not want any more children after Lóthuil and she just…kind of happened, I guess. She’s considered the ugliest member of the Arawen family since she looks way more human than her siblings and because she's way chubbier than her sisters (that doesn't mean she's fat…she's just not as thin). Most ladies are kind to her just because she's a princess, but she's constantly bullied and called names behind her back. She's retiring, private and very kind. Although she has definitely cried a few times about it, she generally doesn't let negative comments affect her. She can be very self-conscious and, though she doesn't speak to anyone about it, she thinks she'll never wed anyone because she'll never be pretty enough for marriage. She has no desire to learn to fight and never once engaged in swordfighting or archery. She prefers more traditionally feminine occupations such pottery and needlework. She's an avid reader and likes talking to people and recording their thoughts on things (had she not been a part of the royal family, she probably would have been a scholar, a scribe or a writer). She has a parrot named Elros and spent her entire childhood trying to teach him how to speak. Eldarion has a soft spot for her and, as he is worried about her spending nearly all of her time with her parrot and nearly anyone else, he encourages her to attend Enna's school. As Enna grows fond of her, they spend a lot of time together and Meleril casually happens to be around one day that Elboron visits Enna to try and make things right with her (as I probably mentioned before, they don't see much of one another as time goes by. Enna doesn't hate him or anything, but she can't look him in the eye because he reminds her too much of Éowyn and it's too painful to bear). They stare at each other and Meleril tries to avoid him because she's afraid he’ll think she's fat and ugly. Elboron looks at her and, as soon as she leaves, he asks for information about her. He doesn't know who she is yet, but he's intrigued primarily because she doesn't look as stuckup as most ladies. He can tell she's very insecure and kind of just wants to comfort her (that's the Faramir in him coming out). He tries talking to Enna about her, but Enna doesn't really want to speak to him. Meleril gets acquainted with Enna’s other siblings and becomes friendly with Selim, who encourages her to write letters to Elboron. The two of them start corresponding and Selim tries to be the best wingman he can possibly be. He also teaches her about Haradrim customs and she becomes interested in Haradrim fashion. I haven't figured out the details of their relationship yet, but I don't Meleril and Elboron get married eventually. (Ship name: Melboron? Elboriel? Probably Elboriel sounds better)

Fancast for Meleril: Mariya Andreeva

Mariya Andreeva as Meleril and Toby Regbo as Elboron

Thank you again for the ask & I hope it makes sense!

[omniblades-and-stars]

The Last Time (A Game of Cat and Mouse)

Read on AO3

"Bancroft Exports and Logistics Headquarters" read the sign carved from impeccably polished wood, no doubt from Earth. It was mounted on the wall next to a door made of frosted glass and featuring antique bronze hinges and a matching bronze doorknob, shaped humorously like one of Earth's large felines, a lion, if he remembered correctly. He always did. As he reached for the door knob with a green-scaled hand, Thane Krios noted it as something to ask Mr. Bancroft about. It was obviously meant as a statement, the expense of retrofitting a Nos Astra office building for an ancient human door alone meant that it was not simply a design choice.

He straightened the front panel of his expensive suit jacket as he strolled into the lobby. There was a reception desk with a high counter wrapped around the front, topped in the same dark polished wood that the sign at the door was. There was another office door directly to the right of the reception desk, and a cart against the wall with porcelain tea cups hanging from metal hooks. One was missing.

The receptionist was not at their post, it seemed. There was, however, a small sign that read "Press Button for Assistance". He was surprised when there was no audible tone when his carefully filed talon depressed the cool metallic button.

After several seconds of empty silence, a booming, "I don't pay you to stand around and look pretty! Go see who it is, damn it," reverberated from the office behind the door. A feminine voice answered back, the words of her quiet reply were lost to the barrier provided by thick walls. Thane clasped his hands behind his back and waited patiently to be greeted by someone. He was going to enjoy killing Mr. Bancroft later. 

The door cracked open and the first thing out of it was a slender, human, woman's foot. It was clad in a precarious, ruby red high-heeled shoe, a thin strap buckled around a delicately arched ankle. Her legs, shapely and well-toned, were covered by sheer black stockings. A pronounced seam ran up the length of her calf, disappearing behind her knee and beneath the hem of a charcoal gray skirt so tight, it could have been a second skin. 

His eyes traveled up her body, taking in the receptionist as she pushed sideways out of the door. She held a silver tea tray in her delicate, gloved hands, and despite her unreasonably high heels, she moved with well-practiced grace and fluidity. 

A pristine cream colored blouse covered a supple chest, the promising curve of soft flesh hidden beneath whisper thin fabric. A collar buttoned high on her slender throat with dainty, round pearls, covered a scar he knew was there. He was surprised to see her here. She was supposed to be dead.

He killed her.

Bare skin burns hot, pressed and writhing beneath him. A soft moan turns to a surprised gasp and her fingers dig sharp into the muscles of his arms. Silken lips parted against his in a silent plea. Breaths ragged from exertion and the effects of the venom still coursing in her veins. Crimson rivulets wash down the cold metal of his blade. Tears bead at the edges of her clouded, disbelieving eyes, pupils wide, surprised by the betrayal she knew would inevitably come. "Why?" She mouths, unable to speak.

"We can't keep doing this. This is the last time," he whispers, and tenderly brushes wisps of dark hair from her sweat-dewed cheek. Tears that are not hers fall, mingling with the ones sliding over her skin and into the hair tangled on the pillow below her. Her grip on his arms falters as she grows weak. He leaves her alone to die in a Presidium hotel room, disquieted and regretful.

It had been too difficult to stay. He should have known she would pull through. She was stubborn, tenacious.

Beautiful, precious.

And above all, a devious, deadly viper.

But why was it relief that he felt to see her again?

Familiar honey-colored eyes glared at him as she turned to greet him. She drew the plush flesh of her burgundy lip in between her teeth, seductive and no doubt a sign of the anger she felt at the sight of him.

The anger burning in her wide, clear eyes disappeared in a flash, as though it had never existed. A wide smile took its place, creasing the corners of her eyes, and she broke her silence by proclaiming, "Oh, you must be the security consultant here to meet with the board. I am so sorry, how do you pronounce your name, Mister…" Her voice was soft, dripping with syrupy cheer. Her head cocked slightly to the side quizzically, a convincing charade played out for no one but the two of them. 

"Tuek. Rumi Tuek. It is a pleasure to meet you. Though, I am afraid that I do not know your name," he said in reply. In this, he told no lie. No living person knew her true name. Her names shifted like the crashing tides of the sea.

"Julia Tophana," she answered cheerfully and bravely turned her back on him to set the tray on top of the cart. "When I first saw your name on the appointment list this week, I assumed it must have been a salarian name," she lied easily, putting on a breathy, airy voice that he knew very well was an act. She continued putting the pieces of the tea service away with gloved hands as she filled the silence with trite chatter. "I thought, 'Surely it couldn't be a drell name, there are so few to be seen away from Kahje.' But what do I know? Mr. Bancroft always says, 'I didn't hire you for your brains, Jules.'"

How long had she been working as the man’s secretary just to murder him?

She loved the long game.

Julia turned and flashed a charming smile at him, holding a stained tea cup in her left hand. "He underestimates me. They always pay for underestimating me. Don't they?" Thane's hand ghosted over his abdomen, where the memory of her blade made itself known. She started this destructive little game of theirs.

She cries out for help as his target tries to pull her into a filthy alley, one of so many on this part of Omega. He runs to help this stranger, a young, human woman out for a jog. A gunshot echoes out of the alley, and the woman's screams stop.

Too late, he fears. But as he turns around the abandoned building at the entrance to the alley, he sees her standing hunched over a body, hands gripping the pistol like iron. She holds it like it is both her only lifeline and the most terrifying thing in the galaxy. Like she has never fired it before.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! I … I … was so scared! I didn't … oh God, what did I do?" Her cries are shrill, panicked, she is nearly hyperventilating. Her hands shake and tears streak over the gentle curve of her cheeks. She looks up at him with large, pleading, amber eyes, and drops the pistol on the ground right before she heaves and vomits all over her lavender running shoes.

"Please, let me help you get cleaned up," he offers quietly as he approaches. She clutches his hands with her own trembling fingers and allows him to lead her away. She tells him her name is Artemis, tells him about how she ended up on Omega, and how lonely it is living on that horrible station.

It's hours later and they are still together, she's pressed against him, hot and needy. Her kisses taste like peppermint toothpaste. "It was so easy. This is the last time you'll see me, see anything," she whispers against his lips. Cold metal bites into his skin, just below his lung and it twists as she pushes him harder against the wall. Her strength is surprising. Too late he realizes that she is not just an innocent woman out for an evening run. The pain forces a groan coursing up his throat. He can feel the blade scraping through his ribs, feel it pierce through the other side. "I don't do competition," she explains and strokes his cheek with a soft hand, now coated in emerald blood. She simply walks away after, leaving her blade, and him, pinned to the wall. It is the kind of folding blade engineered by and for killers, expensive and easily hidden.

The truth of the matter was that she was a small, beautiful woman blessed with large, doe eyes, and perfect, bow shaped lips. Traits that she carefully wielded to her advantage at every available opportunity. Including here, in this moment, where he was her only audience. She was like the sirens of Earth’s ancient mythology, and he too often found himself ensnared by her song.

Arashu protect me, Amonkira guide me, and Kalahira, please take this damnable woman to the darkest, coldest depths of your oceans.

She brought the cup down onto the hard surface of the desk, shattering it with purpose. "Oops! How clumsy of me!" She brushed the shards into the trash can, and in a smooth motion removed the gloves from her hands and deposited them into the receptacle after, careful not to touch the outside material with her bare fingers.

The gloves must have cost a fortune. They appeared to be made of real animal skin, unlike the synthetic leather worn by most. Even in their line of work. 

She'd always been one for flair, even if only for her own sake.

His eyes followed the dexterous lines of slender fingers, recalling the feeling of them tracing tender lines over the ridges of his scales, the feel as they dug into his flesh as she tried to tear his grip from her throat. With a raised brow, he started to ask, “Mr. Bancroft, is he-”

“Dead? He is, but he doesn’t know it yet,” The Shepherd responded while she checked the watch set into a dainty silver band around her wrist. “He will have a “sudden” stroke in approximately four hours.”

Of course, poison. 

One of her favorite methods. She had always been one for a more personal approach. She liked to get in close, get to know the target. She loved to play games, like a cat toying with a mouse that didn't know her claws were already piercing its skin. Until it was much, much too late.

She always played games. 

Thane's lips curled into a disapproving grimace. He despised that she got to Bancroft first.

He despised that she waited until she knew he would be here to do it. This entire charade, this whole show was for his benefit alone. 

It was payback. It was his turn to be the mouse, it seemed. It was probably no less than he deserved.

Deserved or not, he would not let her win.

Her clean up finished, The Shepherd picked up a datapad and waved for him to follow her into the curving hallway. “This way, Mr. Tuek. The board meets on the next floor up, accessible only by the interior elevator.” She strode in front of him, the long curve of her legs accented by the pointed heel of her shoe. Absently, she brushed a long dark lock of hair that had fallen loose from her bun, held together by shining metal sticks, behind her ear. It was much longer than their last meeting.

“I like what you’ve done with your hair, Ms. Tophana. It is a shame that I will kill you before I get to enjoy it,” he whispered in her ear as they walked past the office workers diligently working at their desks in the open office space nested behind the reception lobby.

“I like the piercings you have there on the ridge above your frill, those are new. I will take great pleasure in tearing them from your smug face right before I end you,” she retorted while looking straight ahead. Her mouth curled up, confidence hidden in the upturned corner of her lips. "This is the last time, Krios," she whispered hotly.

"You are sure of this? You have yet to kill me, Shepherd," he reminded her and placed a gentle, threatening hand at the small of her back. The silken fabric of her blouse slid pleasantly over his scales. 

Their walk through the office came to a halt at the elevator, tucked into a hall filled with more office spaces. The Shepherd turned to face him as she pressed the call button for the lift. "It will either be me or you this time. To the death, once and for all. I'm not leaving this building without your life."

The elevator arrived with a chime, and the door slid open. "Then you will not leave this building," he answered emphatically and stepped into the elevator.

The Shepherd pressed her arm across the opening to prevent the door from sliding closed. She leaned in, passing the datapad to him, her lips ghosted dangerously close to his cheek, her breath hot on his skin, stirring heat deep within him. Her hair smelled like honeysuckle. It always smelled like honeysuckle. "You make mistakes when you underestimate me. Don't make it easy for me," she whispered. Suddenly, she pulled back, "You'll understand why I won't be joining you in the elevator. The boardroom is directly to your right, through the preposterous double doors. You can't miss it." 

She had the audacity to wiggle her fingers at him as though she were waving goodbye to a friend as the door slid shut. 

He looked down at the datapad and turned the screen on. Thane didn't know whether to be greatly amused or greatly irritated by the image that greeted him:

"A Game of Cat and Mouse" written out in the flowing script he knew to be hers, followed by a humorous drawing of a cat with human hair styled just like hers. And pinned beneath her feline paws, a mouse with green and black scales.

Hiding in an office suite after his meeting, now entirely pointless due to Bancroft's impending death, had concluded was a simple matter. It was easy enough to duck into the office of some executive who was almost certainly on vacation, and simply wait until everyone who was not The Shepherd left. By the time the work day drew to a close, he found himself pondering the pendulous motion of the Newton’s Cradle decorating the large wooden desk in his hiding office.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Cla-

“We’re alone now, Krios. You can come out of hiding,” she shouted down the hall from her roost in the lobby.

As he walked silently down the hall, he removed his suit jacket, slinging it over his shoulder and cuffing his shirt sleeves at his forearms. When he rounded the hall into the lobby, she was standing with her back to him. Her arms were raised, the mass of her hair held tightly in her fist as she began to wrap it around her hand and tie it more suitably to the base of her skull. The two decorative sticks were laid on the counter, perfectly symmetrical to one another.

“That’s close enough, Thane. Rules first,” she said firmly without turning to him. She grabbed one of the sticks and popped the bottom tip off of it, revealing a very fine sharp point. She leaned to the side and pulled the hem of her skirt taut in her fingers. The Shepherd drove the point into the stretched fabric and then pulled it. The organic fibers parted noisily up the side of her leg, up to the leather belt fastened around her thigh, just above where her stockings came to an end, teasing him.

Thane drew his gaze back to her hair. Her hair was safe, it was drawn up messily in a simple elastic band, and was quite possibly the only part of this that wasn't a performance. “I am listening, Shepherd,” he confirmed. She paused, and almost imperceptibly shivered before leaning to tear the other side of her skirt.

Muscle and bone shifts beneath the tan skin of her back as she undulates. Her back is a star-chart, made up of tiny constellations of freckles and scars. Bruises blooming purple and blue prove the background of the galaxy mapped out between her shoulder blades and beyond. He props himself up on one hand before gently running a short talon over a long jagged scar just below her shoulder blade.

"This one?" He asks, breaking the silence. Her skin pebbles beneath his touch, goosebumps, she calls them. She shivers as his finger trails across her back.

"From the time I killed an elcor diplomat," she says through heavy, panting breaths. "Didn't think he'd be sneaky enough to hide a knife." She is lying, a preposterous lie at that. He has asked her about it before. The last time, it was from a krogan battlemaster's pet varren. He is fairly certain it is a scar from a turian's unfiled talon.

He moves again to sit up completely, and her back arches to accommodate him. His left hand circles around her body, tracing gentle lines over her skin, admiring the bumps that form in its wake, but only for a moment. He presses his other hand around the base of her throat, he can feel the tendons shift as she swallows and moves, and the beat of her heart, fast and strong. He can feel another line, just under her breast. "And what of this one?" He asks with his lips pressed against her neck, he can taste the salt of her sweat.

He knows the answer. He put it there. 

They are moving in tandem, languid, and unhurried, savoring this beautiful charade, awash in blinding pleasures. This time, they started as enemies and ended as lovers. He much prefers it this way than the other. Tonight, she is sweet … by the gods is she sweet. Her hair smells of honeysuckle, and the softest sounds drip like nectar from her lips. And he is an addict for them. He can almost imagine that she isn't like a poison to him, or him a sharpened knife to her.

"I tripped and fell into that one. It was an accident, really," she says with a smile in her voice. "Dropped my guard, for the last time," she explains and lies and tells the truth all in the same sentence, through the same panting breaths. He can't explain why he finds these little, unnecessary lies so charming, so enrapturing, but he does.

He is caught in her web, and he climbs further in of his own volition.

"No guns, no poison, no omni-tools, and no warp fields. Agreed?" The Shepherd rolled her shoulders back and stretched her neck, the elongated curve of it far too tempting. The very edge of the silvering scar peaked over the edge of her collar.

"Agreed."

She stood on one leg and pulled her foot up behind her, stretching her leg and rolling her ankle. She was still wearing those impractical, ridiculous, attractive shoes. "Good, any additions you'd like to make?" She continued her stretching as though she were preparing to go on a run,  and he was not a professional assassin ready to attack.

"I would appreciate it if you did not use your biotics to pull my central nervous system apart this time," he requested with a smile. One encounter with her biotics had left him twitching and blinking sporadically for weeks. "I believe that is a fair exchange in return for not using mine to rip you apart from the outside."

"Oh, I hate when you make a good point. Fine. Questions?" She asked as she turned to face him. He had expected to see her cocky smile, or a demure smirk. Maybe even a deep, hateful scowl. 

But her lips were pressed in a hard line, and her eyes were bloodshot, and lined harshly red at the edges. Had she been crying? Was she frightened?

Or was this a part of her game? He could never tell with her. It could have been another of her little lies. Even still, it gave him pause, tightened a knot in his gut. 

Thane shook his head and tried to push off his reservations. He was in her snare, he knew. He tossed his jacket to one of the small chairs in the lobby and clasped his hands behind his back. "Who hired you to kill Bancroft?" 

He was merely curious, very few people earned having more than one assassination plot against them.

"His wife. You?"

"His son," he answered with a smile. Even fewer people were so hated by their families that they would independently hire someone to kill them. "Do you have any questions for me?"

The Shepherd cocked her head and furrowed her brow. Her question fell from her lips quietly and without preamble, and it detonated like a hydrogen bomb, "If I die tonight, will you mourn me? There isn’t anyone else." She fumbled her words and hastened to add, "Who would even notice, much less care if I die, I mean."

The aftershock rolled into him and sent blood thundering through his chest. "Yes, I mourn you every time, " he answered sincerely and before he could grasp the magnitude of his own words. "Shepherd, if Kalahira calls me to the sea tonight, will you mourn for me?"

"Yes. Every time."

They had killed each other, or tried to anyways, far too many times.

The seconds that passed before either of them moved crackled with electricity. The only warning he had before The Shepherd leapt at him was the flaring of her nostrils. She held the slender stick in her hand like a blade as she pushed off the ground without a sound. He threw his left arm up and pushed the blade away with his forearm, and curled his right fist up towards her ribs.

Her body bowed out of the way of his strike, and stepped in towards him. She hooked her foot around his ankle and pulled him off-balance. Her elbow connected with his collarbone sending a sharp pain shooting through his neck and shoulder. Just as the tiny little blade made its way to his chest, he thrust the flat his hand up. The air around his body ignited cerulean blue, and the blade struck the barrier and snapped. 

The Shepherd stumbled backwards, dropping the now useless implement to the ground. "Shit, I hate it when you do that," she grumbled and adjusted her stance again. 

He pressed his hand into his shoulder and rolled it, stretching out the muscle. "You know, you possess the same skill? It might be useful for keeping much more of your blood inside of your body."

Her small nose crinkled up before she smirked, "That your professional opinion, since you're so good at freeing me of mine?"

"Deserved, although the same could be said for you of mine," he retorted right before advancing on her. They fought. Fists, hands, feet, all moving with blinding speed and precision. He pressed hard against her, and she took steps back, all the while blocking quick strikes and narrowly avoiding getting caught in his grasp.

She came to a stop with her back pressed against the reception counter. The Shepherd reached behind her without looking away from him, and snatched the other hair pin up, releasing the pointed tip hidden under a small metallic cap. She was quick, and aimed the small weapon for his neck.

Thane wrapped one hand around her wrist, and pulled the implement free with the other. He didn’t hesitate and drove it into her side, earning a snarling hiss from the woman.

He’d always been faster than her.

The Shepherd struck him hard in the chest with her outstretched palm, and a concentrated blast of energy followed it a fraction of a second later. Indigo light flared from beneath her hand and he was pushed back across the room, knocking the air from his lungs, and his body to the floor. She pulled the weapon from her side with a grunt, vermillion spreading across the thin fabric of her punctured shirt.

She closed the gap between them with a short run. She raised her foot to bring it down hard on his chest. Thane shifted and rolled away just as she brought her foot down, throwing her off balance. He struck her other foot with a blunt kick, bringing her down to his level.

“Fuck!” she shouted as she crashed to her hands and knees. Immediately, she began to crawl away, working her way back up to crouching, trying to stand again.

Until he grabbed her around the ankle and began to pull her back towards him. “No you don’t,” he grunted as he dragged her thrashing body, preventing her escape. “Why do you wear these shoes, Shepherd? They are quite impractical for walking, much less a fight.”

The Shepherd stopped thrashing and allowed him to pull her nearer while answering, “Have you seen what they do for my legs and my ass?” He had, he could see it right now. “Besides, they serve a function.” She pushed her hands up under her body and flipped herself onto her back. She drove the hard, narrow point of her heel hard into the musculature just below his left shoulder.

He growled and nearly bit his tongue. 

Evil, demon of a woman. 

The stiletto ground against sinew and bone, the pain sending a flash of white static through his vision. He dropped his grip on her leg, and groaned as she pulled her foot free from his shoulder, centimeter by visceral centimeter.

The woman scurried away, standing and disappearing around the corner in the hall at dead run. 

He stood and tested his shoulder, it seemed that she managed not to tear any ligaments or tendons. He could move through the pain. Thane darted off after her, “Running away? That is very unlike you.”

“No … ugh … just looking for a change of scenery,” he heard her breathless and grunting reply from down the hall heading towards the elevator. As he neared the hall, he saw her forcing the doors open and pulling herself up and into the empty elevator shaft. He followed after, fully expecting her to be waiting at the next floor to push him to his death down the shaft.

But she was not there.

Instead, a small ceramic saucer came flying at him, a projectile sent from inside of the truly ridiculous, large double doors leading into the boardroom. He ducked below it, but didn't see the next saucer, until it struck him right in the side of the head. The ceramic shattered against his scales, and he could feel the stinging heat of blood gathering on small cuts.

The Shepherd was standing on the board room table, an enormous expanse of wood cut from a singular tree, stained and sealed with resin. She pulled her foot back and kicked a holo-conference terminal, sending it sailing towards him. Thane leaned to the side, easily dodging the awkward projectile.

He balled up his fist and pulled it back, gathering biotic energy before releasing it. It sailed into her and sent her sprawling to the surface of the table. Paper, more saucers, and a datapad or two went scattering out from under her fall. He jumped onto the table, rapidly closing the distance. 

She crossed her ankles around one of his legs, pulling him to the surface of the table. Their fight turned into something more akin to a schoolyard brawl. They traded sloppy, awkward blows, rolling back and forth on the broad meeting room table.

Suddenly, she had him pinned, pressing hard into the wound on his shoulder while she reached for the belt secured around her leg.

Thane wrapped his right hand over her face and pushed her head back hard, and grabbed her wrist with his other hand as she attempted to stab him with the knife that had been hidden on the inside of her thigh. He pushed up while she pushed down. She shifted her head and snapped her teeth around the base of his thumb hard enough to draw blood.

He bared his teeth at her and growled. Thane shifted his weight and wrapped his leg over her hip, with her knife-wielding hand still held firmly in his grip, he pulled her down close just before rolling over her. He sat fully on her abdomen, preventing her from rolling and thrashing.

She clawed at his throat with her free hand, curses quickly turned to animalistic cries as she struggled to keep her grip on her precious little knife. Much of her hair had come loose, splayed out in messy tangles around her head and cheeks. Blood seeped from a bite mark on her lip and her eyes burned with fury, and perhaps, fear.

Thane wrenched the knife from her hand and threw it off to the side. It hit the tiled floor with a sharp, metallic crack, but was immediately forgotten as the woman returned to clawing, scratching and hitting him with every ounce of energy she could muster. And it did hurt. He wrapped his hands around her slender wrists with crushing strength. She let out a guttural cry and twisted at the abdomen, trying to free herself. Her legs scrambled to find purchase on the table and push him up from on top of her, but all she accomplished was scraping deep ruts into the resin coating on the wood.

He gathered her wrists in one hand and brought them down hard and awkwardly just above her head. He brought his other hand to her throat, the buttons of her collar long since pulled free during their struggle, and he paused.

Beneath his fingers, the smooth, but too long line of the scar taunted him. It was thin, almost surgical in its precision, but cruel. His cruelty, not hers. 

His heart skipped while hers thundered beneath his ghosting touch. Her chest rose and fell so rapidly, she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Genuinely.

The Shepherd looked up at him with those wide, terrified eyes of hers. She let her head fall back to the tabletop, exhaled, and squeezed her eyes shut. “Just do it, Thane. You win. Better this way, wouldn't want it to be anyone else.”  Silent tears rolled from the corners of her eyes. “The last time, right?” she asked with a choked, pitiful laugh.

"No," he said, frozen in place with just the barest contact with her skin.

Her breath hitched and her eyes flew open. Impossibly, her heart began to beat faster, breaths came out in short, fast bursts from her nose. "What? Fuck, don't drag this out!” She cried out. “Just snap my neck, or shit, strangle me. Plea-"

Her confused protestations were silenced when his lips covered hers in a bruising, searing kiss. She gasped and he released her hands. Just as he was pulling back to ask her if that was alright, she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and brought him back to her lips.

In seconds they were consumed by each other, psychological games, anger and violence all but forgotten in the blinding heat of raw, pent up desire. The way she moved and how they were suddenly undressed was dizzying. His memories of the softness of her skin and sweet melody of her voice could never compare to the satin plush of her thighs gripping his waist, or the sounds that tumbled from her mouth.

By the gods, the sounds she made. They were healing waters from the wellspring of her lips. They were quiet, keening mewls, breathy gasps, and those hushed moans pressed against his lips like mumbled prayers. And oh, the way she whined when his teeth scraped against the delicate curve of her throat. He was drunk on the way she breathed his name with muted fervor.

His world turned upside down, and the cool surface of the table met his back. Loose tendrils of her hair brushed his scales as she moved over him. Her head tipped back and her lips parted, forming the perfect silhouette of ecstasy. The muscles in her stomach slithered and writhed with the hypnotic rhythm beneath his hands.  

He was lost in the intoxicating, feverish warmth of her. 

It crested, they existed on the edge of a corona, just before falling over the edge into the crushing gravity, and all-consuming, plasmic bliss. It surged through him like an electric shock and stole his breath, made his fingers tingle like her skin held a static charge.

She collapsed on top of him, the full weight of her small body pushing what little air was held in his lungs out with a groan. The Shepherd laughed, breathless but musical. “It happened again,” she muttered against his chest.

Thane wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to him and carding his hand into her hair, and drawing gentle circles between her shoulders with the other. She shivered, goosebumps rising beneath carefully filed talons. Her fingers traced lines over the soft ridges of his neck. He stared up at the ceiling above them, struggling to control the surge of confused emotion mounting inside of him. “It did,” he agreed quietly. “Will you tell me your name?”

He could feel her muscles tense, and her shoulder blades drew close together before she released the tension with a sad sigh. “No,” she started and then hesitated. “My real name belongs to someone I’m not anymore. Call me Sophie, always liked that one.”

“Sophie,” he repeated into her flower scented hair.

“There isn’t anyone else. To love or to hate me,” she said suddenly, somehow disarming him again.

“You have me,” it rolled off of his lips too easily. She did that to him, pulled his guard away and rendered him loose with his affections and tongue.

She’d probably try to kill him right now. Tear him apart with biotics, or reveal that she’d poisoned some innocuous part of the office that he touched. Maybe that absurd lion’s head door knob at the entrance to the office. Maybe even the heel of her ridiculous shoe. That’s how this usually went.

Instead, she raised her head and looked at him with tired, quizzical eyes, “To love, or to hate me?”

“Perhaps, it is both,” he responded honestly. Maybe the gods knew, because he certainly did not.

“We can figure it out the next last time,” she said with a small smirk playing at the corner of her bruised, cut and perfect lips. “Assuming we don’t kill each other first.”

He returned her smile with one of his own. “I would not want it to be anyone else.”

[bargarraninc]

the child of a traitorous thane; musings on sleep no more's porter

SON He has killed me, mother. Run away, I pray you! [Dies.]

— Macbeth, Act IV. 2

There is a certain beauty to the Porter's character in Sleep No More — for he exists only in the transitional space of the Lobby, a minion of Hecate meant to set up the important scenes through which the looping tragedy of Macbeth will continue to flow. Without him, Banquo is not given the letter holding his prophecy, Malcolm never learns of the falcon shot down, the prophecy cannot take place.

The Porter is loop-aware — there is a consistent deterioration in the character as the show goes on, everything becoming harder and harder for him to deal with. Throughout setting up the scene for the next magical cycle, he is well aware what his actions lead to. It is why he tries to stall Agnes from going upstairs, to where he knows she will be put through the harrowing ordeal of tear collection by Hecate. He tries to keep her safe, failing each time.

Another party that he desperately (moreso than with Agnes) tries to keep safe is Lady Macduff, the innocent murdered for sins not hers in any manner. This is the most intrusive we see the Porter — as he tries to bat off Danvers and her poisonous milk, milk he knows will render Lady Macduff incredibly vulnerable and thus easier to kill.

In Shakespeare's Macbeth, the chief character who attempts a similar, desperate protection of the Lady and who too fails is the Lady's young son. Stabbed to death by the Murderers, her son cries to his mother — begging for her to run away, abandoning him in his last minutes as to save herself from a similar fate. Reversing the traditional parent-to-child protection, the kind we see with Banquo and Fleance when they are attacked, here, the child must be the protector.

Every loop, our Porter fights off Danvers and loses, watching Lady Macduff grow weaker in the aftermath of drinking the accursed milk. He then hears her death, tortured by its violent sounds as he hides in the lost luggage space, desperately trying to distract himself. Then, everything resets again, actions supplemented by his own hands and he continues to live this harrowing loop again and again and again. Why?

In my eyes, our Porter is not only Hecate's lost child in the forest but also the lost son of the Macduff's. The child doomed to protect his mother. After all, Fife is a wooded area.

The Porter is actively putting himself through the loops, losing himself to the inertia of Hecate's endless time magic, out of a deep, child-like hope that this time, he will be able to set things aright. Maybe, it will be this loop, just one more each time, that he will be able to protect his mother from the brutal fate she suffers. Just one more try. Hope keeps him centred as he hands away the note for Lady Macbeth to Danvers, moping in the phonebooth, knowing it will restart his suffering.

There is more substance in the performance to support the Macduff Child theory —

When Lady Macduff is murdered, something he is intimately aware of and scared by, the Porter hides himself into the Lost Luggage. He leans into childish methods of comfort, making paper boats and busying themselves playing with it, even if the boat is made of a tearful letter to his tormentor that he knows will be ignored. Some Porters even tear up at the noises, cowering closer to the counter.

The Porter only emerges from Lost Luggage when not only the murderer Macbeth but Macduff too is gone. In Macbeth, the only conversation we see between Lady Macduff and her son concerns her worriation that her husband is a traitor — abandoning her and her children in a place which he himself finds too dangerous to stay in. There is little affection lost for Macduff on the end of the Porter. He waits for him to be gone, only willing to put himself through the torment if it is to comfort his mother, to give her her coat. His traitorous father, gone again to protect the son of another.

Lady Macduff's messes are cleaned up with a gentleness the Porter shows little of to the other residents (bar Boy who he is in love with) who pass like storms through the Lobby. As he collects her strewn clothes, the Porter dons them with a childish glee, resembling more than ever a child rifling through their mother's cupboard, finding something that makes them feel beautiful. The clothes are collected carefully and packed away, her coat is kept safely hooked. Her presence in the lobby, even through just her abandoned possessions, is looked after gently.

You can never know the true story behind the residents of The McKittrick — for those are secrets they keep close to their hearts, lost in their chosen silence. But, this personal retelling of the Porter's story as I understood it is one I can share easily and so I do. My poor Porter, my poor poor Porter.

[sol-consort]

Well, Solas and Gaia kissed (I locked in the solas romance), and it was good, and now he calls me "my heart" occasionally and I like that but I'm still waiting for him to crack my back like a glow stick and shove his magic staff up my coochie wizard style. But also, I feel guilty because I'm planning an "exit strategy" by flirting with Cullen in case things go bad so I can rebound with Cullen in case anything happens. I mean, everything's going good rn (almost too good 🤔) but, I've seen so many people saying that the Solas broke them and even you warned me about him so I'm scared, like I'm extra sensitive I cry watching max and ruby, I cried when Ashley and Shepard reunited in me2, I cried playing Andromeda becauseit was set 6000 years after the og mass effect trilogy. My point is I get heartbroken really easily, so I'm worried, I'm shaking in my boots, I'm clutching my metaphorical rosary, waiting for something to go wrong. If I was smart, I would probably leave at the first sign of trouble, but knowing myself, I will probably stick it out for the angst and then complain about it later.

AN EXIST STRATEGY i can't

honestly, I'd be lying if I said i don't do the same thing. Always keeping a side hoe in case things go south with the main babe. That was Jacob for me in ME2, I went as far as his romance allowed, broke up with him, then dated Garrus as far as his romance allows, broke up with him, then finally locked in with Thane. Man, that is one awkward ship crew I tell you.

I'm trying to like Cullen but it's...eh. Like a human noble is his ideal partner and guarantees the best ending but I'm not getting the appeal about him. He's like Any other frat fuck boy, except his frat is the templars with a strick moral code. You can go to any bar during football season and spot 7 of him there.

Maybe I just don't know him enough well? Josephine's comment stuck with me, the law of instrument one "If the only tool you have is a hammer, it is tempting to treat everything as if it were a nail."

Also, because it's EA and Bioware, I'm lowkey worried his romance will have reinforced gender stereotypes, and I'll be treated as The Wife™

Kaidan romance didn't have that problem, but he was soft and into stronger women, Idk if it's applicable here. I swear Cullen's insta following page would be filled with those "alpha" type pages who post about "cultured men" and "embrace your inner sigma" I also installed a mod to give his face a slight tan bc he looked like uncooked raw chicken breasts. And shiny new armour.

For now, I'm flirting with Casaandra and having the time of my life. The flirting is basically me gawking at her swinging swords so powerfully and her getting flustered and saying nonono it's nothing special. She's an idealist with a kind heart I'm on my knees. Also new armour mod.

Josephine might be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and her cleverness. Oh my god. I want her biblically. I installed so many pretty dress mods for her! I cycle through them and feel my soul heal whenever I visit her. She's the one I like most so far, I might lock in with her after taking a spin or two around.

[adventures-tamriel]

Tamrielic Characters of mine based on three separate but sometimes entwining stories.

Runnar Grimsvalk of Falkreath.

Born in the lands of Falkreath Hold, Runnar is the second born of fraternal twins, born a mere minute after his brother, Gunnar. It seems a minute was all it took. As Runnar grew, it was clear that he had inherented less than his brother. Gunnar was more charismatic, stronger and was generally well regarded by the people of Falkreath. Runnar had raven black hair and a pallid complexion while Gunnar was the spitting image of their father, blonde and tanned. As brothers are prone to do, Gunnar picked on his dark twin, usually calling him Draugr-Twin. Gunnar would eventually regret this name.

When both boys were 12, their father was called to war by the Empire, the war versus the Aldmeri Dominion. Their father never returned from that war instead an imperial of commendation arrived. The twins were raised by their mother but, as Gunnar looked so much Ike his father, their mother gave most of her attention to the blonde twin. More and more resentment grew like a plague in Runnar's heart.

Five years passed and the Stormcloak rebellion had been going on for a few years now. The family had lived on the border between Falkreath and the Rift, in the shadow of the Throat of the World. Stormcloak patrols had been seen coming from the Rift, burning farms and houses of any Nord that was loyal to the Empire. Runnar and Gunnar, both on the cusp of manhood, had just returned from hunting deer. Dark smoke rose from their home and the brothers ran. As they arrived, they found a Stormcloak patrol stood over their slain mother. Their mother still clutched their father's imperial medallion. The twins ran, the patrol of seven men chasing after the boys. During the run, the young men became separated.

Runnar ran until his chest burned, seeking shelter in what he thought was an old ruin. Runnar crouched in the archway, gulping down pockets of air. The rotten wood under his feet gave way and plunged the young man into darkness. Having lost the patrol and his brother, Runnar hid as he found he was the only one alive, but he was not alone. Draugr stalked the halls. Runner hid and watched. Three long weeks past as he hid, watching the dead men. Fear turned to curiosity and then to admiration. As Runnar hid along the tomb, he found a terrible tome. Empowered but the tome and his own desire to live, Runnar found his way out of the tomb. He found his eyes had changed, glowing blue like the undead he admired.

Runnar did not return home. Instead, using murder, he acquired a suit of armor and sword and began his life as a sellsword and explorer. Runnar searched the tombs of Skyrim, searching for more necromantic power. Eventually, he came together with a beautiful necromancer. As the two sought a strange power, necrotic fire, they were brought into conflict with a man, a thane of Whiterun. It was there the twins saw each other again. It was there that their rivalry became deadly.