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elfy-elf-imagines · 1 year

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— In the Fields of Poppy | Thranduil *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Angst (mentions of death and the aftermath of war)

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies, you have a chance encounter with the King.

▹ Notes: This is unedited because we die as men! Also because I'm sleep deprived rn. Let me know what you thought!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The carnage had been terrible; the aftermath of the battle more brutal than any recount would ever fully capture.

Broken stained glass mosaics formed with blood from all sides of the battle glistened in the sun. There was a heavy fog that clung to the ground, the wails of survivors finding the corpses of their loved ones. You couldn’t focus on it, blocking out as much of the noise as possible. Later you would feel the weight of the lives lost, you were certain, but for now, there was work to be done.

You kneeled before the squirming body of a dwarven soldier, too delirious off his own pain to scorn the healing of an elvish maid. There was a cut on his leg that was bleeding profusely, his skin showing the beginning signs of infection from the poison the orcs used. He was muttering in Khuzdul, his eyes staring blankly at the sky. His eyes were locked on the sun, and if there weren’t other grievous injuries taking priority, you would’ve reminded him to not stare at the sun. But who cares for blindness if you’re already dead?

With ghost-like touches and careful concentration, you placed the healing salve on his leg, cleaning the wound as best you could beforehand. He hissed in pain from the contact, his eyes no longer looking at the sun but at you. He continued to speak in Khuzdul, this time at you, with spite and pain written on his face. You weren’t concerned, continuing to work as you numbed yourself to your surroundings.

A group of elven soldiers marched past you, carrying the body of their fallen comrade, faces stricken with grief. Your eyes darted away from the sight and returned your attention to carefully wrapping your patient’s leg with bandages.

“I don’t have anything for the pain, I’m afraid,” you said to him, briefly meeting his eyes that went back to looking at the sun. He muttered incoherently, and while he spoke Common this time, his words were lost on you.

Tying the final bandage, you then began the same work on the rest of his wounds. More wails and more dead bodies carried from the battlefield, but you blocked it all out. There was no time to be swallowed in the suffering. Once all his wounds had been tended to and your dress was drenched in the blood of another patient, you stood from the ground. A dwarven soldier rushed forward to bring his comrade to the tents where the injured were resting. Words of thanks fell from his mouth, but you had already turned away, moving towards the next person.

This time it was an elf, so young he couldn’t be more than a century old. Old enough to serve in the guard but too young to die; it made you sick to your stomach. There was a gash near his neck, the veins around it turning black. The poison had already gotten into his system; it was only a matter of time before it took him. Yet you kneeled beside him and gently placed his head in your lap as you began cleaning the wound.

Unlike the dwarf from before, his eyes met yours, a grin on his lips. It looked out of place on his face, contorted into pain. He spoke softly in elvish, reciting an old song that mothers usually sang to their children when putting them to bed. As the cold salve touched his neck, he froze up, twitching slightly at the sensation.

Silence enveloped the two of you, he no longer sang, yet his eyes stayed on you. A stray piece of hair had fallen from your messy braid, the elf reaching up and grabbing it. He held it between his fingers, mouth parted and eyes a thousand miles away.

“Naneth--” he trailed off, muttering more incoherent words. You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to continue working as a spark of pain reactivated your cold heart. He called you mother; the poison must’ve already reached his head, making him see things that weren’t there.

Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as you looked away to reach into your healer’s kit. He must’ve been so terrified as death came closer, seeking comfort in a mother that wasn’t even here. You didn’t have the heart to correct him. Let the boy have a small bit of comfort.

With a strip of bandage in your hand, when your eyes went back to his body, his eyes were shut, and his breathing ceased. Dead.

Your hand fell limp at your side, eyes unmoving from his face. He looked at peace, expression no longer twisted in pain. A shuttered breath escaped your mouth, the chill in the air allowing you to see it blow away. You stood with shaky legs and trembling hands, two soldiers approaching to take his body away.

You’d been a healer for as long as you could remember, training for this since you were a little elfling running wild. Time allowed you to become numb to tragedy, keeping a clear head to do what needed to be done. But the elven boy’s death managed to stab a needle right through your heart. He was so young and vibrant, his potential severed by senseless war. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, like the ashes of the bodies the humans were burning.

The mud squashed beneath your feet, eyes unseeing. You were a ghost on the battlefield, blood-stained dress blowing in the wind. How did the other healers seem so emotionless? Was the bite of death something that lessened the more you were near it? In a few years, would you have a disposition that was nearly mechanical? A part of you hoped for that release, while the other part of you was terrified by it.

You turned, eyes meeting the misty blues ones of King Thranduil. He stood a few feet away from you, a vision amongst the dead. Tall and noble, he looked every bit the king he was. Golden like the dawn, his hair was loose and messy, and his previously pristine armor was dirty with mud and blood, cuts and minor wounds marring his body. Yet he looked eerily perfect.

His stare was heavy, yet you refused to be the one to look away. A hint of a smirk appeared on the edges of his lips as his head tilted to the side. Long and sure strides brought him closer to you while you stayed locked in place. The king stood before you, towering over your smaller form. You may have been on the taller side; he made you feel as though you were a hobbit.

“What is your name?”

You lowered your head in a half-bow, a pathetic attempt to show respect, not entirely accustomed to the presence of royalty.

“Y/N, my king.”

He nodded, mouthing your name as if to commit it to memory.

“Do you live in Eryn Galen? I have never seen you.”

“I grew up in Lothlorien, where I spent most of my life before training to be a healer in Imladris. I have only recently moved to Eryn Galen.”

Thranduil raised his eyebrows and clasped his hands behind his back.

“How lucky we are to have a student of Lord Elrond among us.” You could discern if his words were patronizing or genuine, his tone not betraying his intentions.

“I did not train under Lord Elrond personally.” You felt the need to correct him, not wanting him to think you of a higher station than you were.

“But your teachers were overseen by him, were they not?”

You nodded.

“Then you were trained by Lord Elrond, even if he himself didn’t oversee your education.”

A small smile appeared on your lips, and you nodded. “I have no choice but to agree; who would I be to disagree with a king.”

A coy smile pulled on the edges of his lips as his eyes shone.

“A foolish woman is who you would be. Walk with me?” It was phrased as a question, but he didn’t wait for your answer. His long strides carried him towards camp, and you had no choice but to follow.

“Tell me, do you plan on staying in Eryn Galen long?” His voice was crisp but quiet enough that only you could hear them.

“I do. I have grown fond of the people and its forest.” You spoke genuinely and truthfully. The wood elves were reclusive and suspicious, but once you broke through those barriers, they were full of merriment and loyalty. You cherished the relationships you had already formed and were eager for more.

“Even in its sickly state,” his tone was sardonic but not enough to hide the pain in his voice. How terrible it must’ve been to see his home twisted into something so evil while powerless to stop it.

“I believe there is still hope for it to be returned to health.”

Thranduil stopped in his tracks, eyes meeting yours. You stopped as well, patiently waiting for what he may say next. His expression was unreadable, eyes searching yours for the answers to questions you didn’t know.

Wherever he was searching for, it sent shivers down your spine and made goosebumps form on your arms. The moonlight was kind to him, bathing him in a silvery light that made him look like the elves of Lothlorien who always seemed to shine. You felt your heart stutter as butterflies formed in your stomach.

It could’ve been a trick of the light, but you could’ve sworn there was a hint of affection in his bright eyes. After the death of his wife, rumors spread of his cold demeanor and harshen disposition. But now, before you, none of those adjectives seemed suited for him. As soft as the stars and as beautiful as the moon, how could he be anything but good and kind?

“I hope that you are right.” He finally broke the silence, eyes raising to the sky before he continued walking, and just as before, you matched his strides. Neither of you spoke, relishing in the silence after a terrible day full of death and terror.

Finally, the both of you stopped in front of the tent that was yours.

“It was good to meet you today, Y/N. I hope to see you again; I find your company pleasant and your conversation enjoyable.”

A red flush made your face warm, and a child-like grin appeared on your lips. As light as a feather, you would’ve floated away had the king not grabbed your hand, delicately placing a kiss on your knuckles.

When he released your hand, you lowered into a half curtsey, the movement not as fluid due to your dress that was stiff from the dried blood covering it.

“It was an honor to speak with you, my king. I wish you a good rest tonight.”

He smirked in a way that made your flush deepen.

“And if I find it difficult to find rest, will you brew me a tea to lull me to sleep.”

“Herbology happens to be my specialty.”

Thranduil gave a single, firm nod, yet his eyes never moved from yours. The affection you’d seen before was brighter, easier seen in the dim lighting. And you were certain your eyes portrayed the same attraction. Could this be the beginning of something wonderful?

“Then I shall know who to call upon in my hour of need.” He lowered into a full bow, his cloak billowing around him. You took a step back, a bout of giggle escaping your mouth. Who would’ve thought the stern king had a sense of humor?

“Farewell, my lady.”

He then swept off further into the camp, and you stayed in your spot, watching his form disappear, only moving once you could no longer see him. You turned and entered your tent, hand placed upon your flushed cheek. As you readied yourself for bed, the encounter with Thranduil replayed in your mind. And suddenly, you found yourself dancing alone, unable to push back your excitement.

And as you lay in bed and shut your eyes, you desperately hoped this would only be the beginning and not where the story would end.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

#thranduil imagine #thranduil x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit one shot #the hobbit #lotr imagine #lotr fanfic #middle earth imagines #lord of the rings #lord of the rings oneshot #mirkwood elves #tolkien #lotr #lord of the rings imagine #thranduil #thranduil x oc #elf!reader

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mistydeyes · 1 year

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𝓲𝔃𝔃𝓲𝓮'𝓼 𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

summary: an ongoing list of all my favorite fics (updated daily)! please check these amazing writers out and support their work <3

btw! if there’s any ones i forgot to add/haven’t read plz message me! i always love new content (especially for gaz :))

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general

platonic ☕🧸📋🧋🍪

5 times you took care of 141 and one time they took care of you by @keys-hellscape-1020 - platonic!141 x medic!reader this one is so cute! the 141 boys show their appreciation for the unit's medic by taking care of them :)

incorrect cod quotes by @skylarsblue - okay this one is HILARIOUS read to see the absolute insanity that goes on in the 141

unwind by @python333 - platonic!141 x gn!reader hehe i requested this! but in this absolutely beautiful fic, you help the 141 unwind by making their favorite coffee and tea

fluff 🎀🪞🩰🦢🕯️

civilian spouse by @undeadcannibal - 141 x civvie! reader one of my favorites! read how the boys meet their civilian significant other

saved civilian invites the 141 on a date by @benevolentwarfare - hero!141 x civvie! reader you ask to meet them again after they saved you!

141 reacting to the reader who likes to read smut by @gardeningtool4skullboy - 141 x soldier!reader the title says it all!

seeing the reader's face in public by @ghostssweetgirl - 141, könig, roach, and alex x soldier!reader you wear a mask while on duty and no one has seen you unmasked. they barely can recognize you in public (and try to flirt)!

where do they live by @yourvirtualgoddessforlife - 141, könig, graves, alejandro and rudy x reader amazing descriptions of where you would live with each one of them <3

the 141 with a successful s/o by @l0velylecter - 141 x reader the descriptions in this one are absolutely beautiful! read about how you both show your appreciations for one another ;)

angst/sad💔😢😭❤️‍🩹🤧

how they react when you die by @buckysmith - 141, alejandro, and graves x reader okay this one broke my heart! if you want a good cry, read how they would react if you died

amnesia by @roosterr - 141 x reader - one of my requests that was beautifully answered! read how the 141 reacts to you getting injured then waking up from a coma without amnesia

gaz

fluff 🎀🪞🩰🦢🕯️

on the house by @yjhariani - gaz x civvie!reader ONE OF THE BEST MEET CUTES w my love <3 read about you and gaz getting set up on a date

you are in love by @euovennia - gaz x reader based on the taylor swift song, follow along as you and gaz fall in love :))

a lazy evening by @vesper-tinus- gaz x reader ABSOLUTE FLUFF as you spend an evening with gaz at home

meet cute - birdie by @ghouljams - cowboy!gaz x reader (name: birdie) cowboy gaz meets the local teacher and she helps him get some supplies for the ranch! they have an entire series for cowboy!141 I highly recommend reading!!

gossamer silk smiles by @halcyone-of-the-sea - gaz x florist!reader literally so adorable with the flowers and the nods to greek mythology! you run a florist shop and a young man comes in last minute, what how your relationship blooms as he keeps visiting

ghost

platonic ☕🧸📋🧋🍪

immunity to being tased by @rileyslibrary - ghost x soldier!reader this is hilarious, what's ghost's reaction when you have a surprising immunity to being tased?

fluff 🎀🪞🩰🦢🕯️

helen x simon series by @mvtthewmurdvck - ghost x fem!medic!reader ok, if you haven't read this then what are you doing? this series follows our two lovebirds on the battlefield and through life (this is so worth the read and there's so much content from the creator!)

be gentle, man! by @rileyslibrary - ghost x fem!soldier!reader this is a two part series that goes through the antics of going undercover with the team! read until the end of part ii for a funny little soap moment

leather sketchbook by @dyslexicbatxz - artist!ghost x medic!reader what happens when ghost loses his sketch book with drawings of you?

ghost's love language by @saint-johnny - simon x reader a fluffy little piece where simon checks out a book at the library about the five different love languages

the little things by @halfmoth-halfman - simon x medic!reader there's something going on between simon and the unit's medic, soap is determined to find out

dad!simon by @lundenloves - simon x reader (established relationship) YK I JUST HAD TO INCLUDE THIS ONE! some of the best descriptions of simon ever, read about how he interacts with you and the two daughters you have together

angst/sad💔😢😭❤️‍🩹🤧

anyone got a lighter? by @yjhariani - ghost x soldier!reader okay not spoiling this one but my heart broke from this short read

white bandages, the process of healing by @nsharks - ghost x soldier!reader part two of a three part series, read about your tumultuous relationship with the masked man

simon after a divorce by @l0velylecter - ghost x soldier!reader the title says it all, don't look for a happy ending here

price

fluff 🎀🪞🩰🦢🕯️

meeting civilian reader by @nrdmssgs - price x fem!civvie!reader you and price both find yourself on a vacation away from work

5 reasons you cried while pregnant by @gh0stlyfixation - price x afab!reader ONE OF THE BEST this is so funny and also has a series with ghost and soap's wives. see what price has to deal with when you're pregnant with your first child

karma by @stormiwaves - price x afab!reader you go undercover dressed to the nines and price gets jealous when he sees you flirting with the target

soap

angst/sad💔😢😭❤️‍🩹🤧

counting magpies, one for sorrow by @halfmoth-halfman - soap x reader i'm not going to spoil this one either but get some tissues ready BC THIS IS SO SAD

alejandro

fluff 🎀🪞🩰🦢🕯️

late for dinner by @ragingbookdragon - alejandro x fem!reader uh oh, alejandro is in trouble with the missus! this one is so cute

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fairytale-poll · 8 months

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SEMIFINAL ROUND, MATCH 2 OUT OF 2!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Miss Piggy:

In the movie, she pretends to be Lady Holiday and when her identity is revealed is leaves on of her shoes there cinderella style.

Cinders:

She spent decades searching every moon and planet trying to find her wife (Rose), who was kidnapped on their wedding day. Eventually, she found Rose, and they embraced, only for Rose to die in Cinder’s arms. And so Cinder killed the king who had kidnapped Rose by punching through his chest and into his heart.

And then Cinder got a somewhat happy ending, in which she met Rose’s clone who had Rose’s memories.

What if Cinderella was a Sci-Fi lesbian? Well here she is. She has a whole love song about searching the stars for her girlfriend after their wedding was interrupted and she was taken away. She spends years searching only to when she finally finds and embraces her watch her be shot. Cinders is so devastated by this that she plunges her wedding ring into the heart of the man who shot her love killing him.

Lesbian space princess who elopes with the terrifying soldier who was previously conquering her planet and spends decades searching for her when they’re separated. Listen to her song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6w9V-gMgBF4

I think the way she punches the evil king through the heart as revenge for her wife is pretty neat.

She’s a revolutionary married to a woman, what’s not to love? From Cinders’ Song: “ When I was a little girl, my mother always told me / “Someday your prince will come, my love” / But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me”.

her girlfriend got cloned and most of said clones were brutally slaughtered in war and she searched for her girlfriend all throughout the galaxy and when they were finally reunited on the battlefield her girlfriend died. and a clone of her girlfriend who due to technical errors retained her memories, so does that count as the same girlfriend? theseus’s girlfriend? anyway vote for cinders she’s been through hell

Lesbian!! Has to search for her lost love Rose with her glass wedding ring that changes color when its near its partner!! Gets to embrace Rose once again for one final moment before the villain kills Rose right in front of her!! So Cinders kills him in return!! And she’s left as (almost) the only surviving main character from her own album but!! She is eventually reunited with a clone of Rose, and while they cannot have a truly ‘happy ever after’ together they are the ones graced with the closest thing to it

SPACE LESBIANS (she’s in love with Rose Red, who gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders searches the galaxy to find her, waiting for her white ring to turn crimson, indicating that its twin was near) She took her name from the ashes of her burning planet <3 She also killed Old King Cole >:)

shes a tragic lesbian and killed a violent dictator shes literally the best

shes gay shes traumatized she dates both rose red and sleeping beauty. badass space wanderer looking for her wife

Her wife Rose gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders spend the next thirty years looking for her. She finds her (:D) and then Rose dies (D:) and then Cinders kills the guy who killed Rose (girlboss).

shes a lesbian. she lost her wife, Rose (yes, as in sleeping beauty) the day they got married bc she was kidnapped. she spent 20 YEARS looking for her. as soon as she found her wife, Rose DIED IN HER ARMS. Cinders has gone through Too Much to lose this poll

(Her info from the wiki) the Princess of a planet burnt by King Cole’s army, after it is ceded by her stepmother. She is imprisoned, meets Rose and plans to marry her. She is released by her godmother for the wedding, then flees when the attack happens, spending thirty years looking for Rose. Her half of the wedding ring will light up when she finds Rose.

“When I was a little girl, my mother always told me 'Someday your prince will come, my love’ But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me I looked to the stars for you, my love” She’s lesbian Cinderella IN SPACE. She fell in love with her wife in prison and they ran away to have a secret marriage but the empire kidnapped Rose on their wedding night and Cinders had to leave her behind. She searches for Rose for decades with the glass ring that guides her to its twin on her wife’s finger. She finally reunites with her love after Rose rips three supersoldiers to pieces with her bare hands (hot) but then then the evil king kills Rose so Cinders fucking punches through his heart. And then a clone of Rose (who is also lesbian Sleeping Beauty IN SPACE) finds her cradling her wife’s body and they have a happy reunion(?) and maybe they didn’t have a happy ending BUT WHAT IF THEY HAD EACH OTHER? HUH? AAAAAH

she’s everything. she’s a princess from a long since conquered planet. she was imprisoned to make a statement of the brutal reign of old king cole. she met her wife while she was in prison, a beautiful brutal soldier covered in scars from battles. cinders and rose fell in love, so cinders’ godmother in white broke her out of jail so rose and cinders could be together. they were going to be married, except that OLD KING COLE intervened and kidnapped rose to make her the genetic base of his unholy army. so cinders spends THIRTY YEARS searching the galaxies for her love (and sings a really cool song about it called “Cinders’ Song”) until finally she arrives during the final battle just in time to see old king cole SHOOT ROSE DEAD. so cinders punches the king so hard (with her wedding ring) that he just Crumples Into Dust. the end! (no we do not talk about the fiction.)

lesbian, for one, and for two i don’t really care i just think it’d be cool if she got in/if she made it past the first round

no one seems to have linked cinder’s song yet, so here [Link]

better yet, listen to the whole album too, for context and also what comes after. it slaps and also tragedy it’s such a good album suhc a good band too

Someone already sent the song as propaganda, so I will provide SPOILER propaganda. [Click link to see spoilers.]

[Link]

#cinderpoll #round 6 #semifinals #miss piggy #lady holiday #the muppets #muppets #the great muppet caper #cinders #once upon a time in space #the mechanisms #cinderella #fairytale #poll tournament #poll bracket #character polls #polls

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mononijikayu · 3 months

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a red winter — ryomen sukuna.

The wind whispered through the cherry blossom trees, casting a delicate veil over the scene. Sukuna's heart, heavy with sorrow, echoed the mournful silence of the winter landscape. He had loved you more deeply than he could ever express, and now, in this moment of finality, he struggled to comprehend a world without your presence. He struggles to know what life truly is worth, if there is no you to give it meaning. He looks at you, defeated.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: a red winter by ahn ye eun

ko-fi

note: i quickly wrote this knowing ill be gone for a while due to my exams. i would like to say that i apologize that this is what im leaving you with for a week or two. but truly, i hope you forgive me. in any case, two more chapters!!! thank you for your support for ashes of love. i hope you love this chapter and i'll see you in the next one!!! i love you <3

YOU FELT EXHAUSTED. In the following months, you found yourself embroiled in relentless clashes against the usurpers of your son’s rightful lordship—the formidable Zenin and Kamo clans. Each battle drained you further, the weight of responsibility and the constant struggle wearing down your spirit. Despite your children's repeated insistence on joining you in battle, their youthful determination remained unwavering. They wanted to avenge their clan, their name, their father.

However, you steadfastly refused, maintaining that a child should never be on the battlefield. Your son was just ten and seven, your daughter only shy of ten and two. You refused at each turn their determination to be in battle. And each time, the quarrels would tear you apart. But you would not let them win. Not at this moment. They were all you had. And you were damned that you would lose them too.

Your heart ached at the thought of their innocence being tarnished by the brutality of war, their futures jeopardized by the unpredictability of combat. You had just lost your husband. To lose your children would drive you to a place you did not want to think of. You met their fervent appeals with gentle yet firm insistence, seeking to shield them from the harsh realities of the front lines.

You bid them farewell with a heavy heart, watching as the columns of men marched solemnly away from the Ryomen lands, their faces set in grim determination. Each step they took seemed to echo with the weight of impending doom, a silent acknowledgment that many among them would not return from the battle ahead.

Turning to look at your children, you saw the stark contrast in their reactions. Your son stood tall and stoic, his jaw clenched with a resolve that mirrored your own. His refusal to meet your gaze spoke volumes of the burden he carried, the unspoken fear of losing his father and the weight of inheriting a legacy of honor and duty.

Beside him, your daughter hesitated, her eyes betraying a mixture of fear and uncertainty. She searched your face for reassurance, her lips parting as if to speak but faltering before any words could escape. In her youthful innocence, she struggled to comprehend the gravity of the moment, torn between wanting to be brave for her family and the overwhelming fear of the unknown.

You sighed heavily, the weight of your responsibilities pressing down upon you like an oppressive cloak. You took a moment to memorize the sight of your children, their features etched with worry and determination. In their eyes, you saw reflections of your own struggles, the sacrifices made in the name of duty and the relentless march towards an uncertain future.

With a deep breath, you were helped atop your own horse, the sturdy beast beneath you a steady anchor amidst the tumult of emotions swirling within. As you urged your mount forward to join the departing ranks, you spared one last glance at your children, their figures growing smaller in the distance.

In that fleeting moment, you prayed silently for their safety, for the strength to endure the trials ahead, and for the hope that one day, they would understand the sacrifices made in the name of honor and duty. With resolve renewed, you rode forth to meet your fate alongside your comrades, the echoes of farewell lingering in the air like a solemn promise of return.

Amidst the chaos of battle, you led your forces with a heavy heart, consumed by concern for their safety. The clash of steel and the agonized cries of comrades-in-arms created a grim backdrop to your inner turmoil. As the carnage unfolded around you, you clung steadfastly to the belief that their lives were precious and must be preserved at all costs.

Your relentless bloodhounds tore through anyone who crossed their path, driven by your command. Meanwhile, your white flames scorched enemies one after another, fueled by the intense energy coursing through your bleeding wrists. Despite a blow to your face causing you to stagger, your purple eyes blazed with determination as you knelt, the blood mixing with your cursed energy.

With a fierce resolve, a naginata materialized in your palm, and you lunged forward with primal aggression, unleashing a ferocious attack upon your foes. The battlefield echoed with the clash of weapons and the cries of the fallen, but amidst it all, your unwavering determination to protect your comrades burned as brightly as the flames you wielded.

As you fought with a savage intensity, each swing of your naginata cut through the air with deadly precision. The battlefield seemed to bend to your will, as if your determination alone could reshape the outcome of the conflict. Your allies fought alongside you, their trust in your leadership unwavering despite the odds stacked against them.

Blood and sweat mingled on your brow as you pressed forward, the weight of responsibility heavy upon your shoulders. The battlefield was chaotic, bodies strewn across the ground, both friend and foe alike. Yet, through the haze of battle, you remained focused, your senses attuned to every movement and threat.

Amidst the frenzy, a sense of clarity emerged—a resolute belief that this war, no matter how prolonged or brutal, would not break your spirit. Your heart pounded in rhythm with the pulse of the conflict, each beat a testament to your unwavering commitment to those who fought beside you.

After what seemed like an eternity, the clash of steel finally subsided, leaving behind a haunting silence punctuated only by the groans of the wounded and the crackle of distant fires. The battlefield lay strewn with bodies and broken weapons, a grim testament to the ferocity of the conflict.

You stood amidst the aftermath, your chest heaving with exertion, and your naginata still in hand, its blade gleaming with blood under the harsh glare of the sun. The adrenaline that had fueled your relentless assault now slowly ebbed, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness that threatened to overwhelm you.

Surveying the scene, you felt a mix of emotions—relief that the immediate threat had been neutralized, sorrow for the lives lost, and a grim determination to press forward. Your thoughts turned to your comrades-in-arms, the survivors who now looked to you for guidance and strength. They bore the scars of battle, both physical and emotional, but their resolve remained unbroken.

Slowly, you began to organize the aftermath—tending to the wounded, accounting for the fallen, and preparing for the next phase of the campaign. Despite the toll it took on your spirit, you knew there was no time for rest or reflection. The war raged on, its relentless tide pulling you deeper into its grasp with each passing day.

As dusk settled over the battlefield, casting long shadows over the scene of carnage, you found a quiet moment to reflect. The faces of those you had lost haunted your thoughts, their sacrifices blossoming red with the thunder of war. Yet, amidst the sorrow, there was also a glimmer of hope—a steadfast belief that your efforts were not in vain, that each battle brought you one step closer to an end.

With a weary sigh, you turned towards the horizon, where the first stars of evening began to twinkle in the darkening sky. The weight of responsibility sat heavy on your shoulders. You cannot quit now. You must continue. Even if this kills you. No matter what. You must continue. Whatever the costs.

The voice in your head laughed derisively, its mocking tone echoing in the recesses of your mind. "Foolish human," it sneered, "You cling to your frailty and stubborn pride. What honor is there in this futile struggle?"

You gritted your teeth, a surge of defiance rising within you. "There is honor in fighting for what is right," you retorted, your voice firm despite the tremors of doubt. "I would rather die in this struggle than any other way. At least here, I stand for something greater than myself."

The voice scoffed, its presence like a shadow looming over your thoughts. "Stubborn to the end," it taunted. "You will learn the futility of your resistance."

But you held fast to your convictions, refusing to let doubt cloud your resolve. "I will not yield," you declared, steeling yourself against the relentless assault of doubt and fear. "There is honor in the struggle, even if I do not emerge victorious."

As the voice faded into the background, its laughter turning hollow and distant, your lips pursed into a flat line. You sighed heavily, the weight of exhaustion settling deep within your bones as you leaned against the pillar of the wall. The ground around you was stained with blood, a stark reminder of the relentless cycle of battle that had defined your existence.

War had been your constant companion, an unyielding force that shaped every aspect of your life. It was a truth you had come to accept, yet one that weighed heavily on your heart. In moments like these, when the chaos subsided and the cries of conflict faded into silence, you allowed yourself a rare moment of reflection.

Gazing up at the sky, where a solitary heron glided gracefully against the canvas of deep blue, you couldn't help but yearn for something beyond the endless struggle. You wondered what it would be like to experience true freedom—to soar through the open skies without the burden of duty and battle pressing down upon you.

The heron's wings sliced through the air with effortless grace, a symbol of peace and serenity that felt so far removed from the harsh realities of your world. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a life untouched by war—a life where the sky was not a backdrop to conflict but a boundless expanse of possibility and tranquility.

But as quickly as the thought came, it was replaced by the harsh reality of your circumstances. The war demanded your unwavering commitment, your sacrifice, and your strength. There was no escape from the responsibilities that tethered you to this life of strife.

With a heavy heart, you pushed yourself away from the wall and resumed your vigilance. The heron continued its graceful flight, disappearing into the distance, leaving you with a lingering sense of longing. As you turned your gaze back to the battlefield ahead, you steeled yourself once more for the challenges that lay ahead, knowing that true freedom would have to wait for another time, another life.

When you had gotten up, you had been given news from the other fronts of the battle. Mikoto Masaomi, a loyal ally, managed to defeat the Kamo, effectively knocking them out of the war. This victory brought a brief respite, but the Zenin still posed a significant threat. Leading your forces against the Zenin, you fought fiercely, yet the battle ended in a stalemate. The toll of constant conflict was evident, both in your body and spirit.

In a surprising turn, Ryomen Sukuna appeared on the battlefield, his presence as formidable as ever. He swiftly killed the Zenin lord, forcing their surrender. True to his word, Sukuna did not come to see you. He honored your wishes, even though the distance between you brought a pang of sorrow.

With the Zenin subdued, only the Gojo usurpers remained. But the exhaustion was too great. The relentless battles had taken their toll, forcing you to postpone the campaign against the Gojo clan usurpers. Gojo Seiryuu, desperate to reclaim his rightful place, begged you to allow him to lead the charge.

Your return had been marred with his pondering. You could see your husband in him, through and through. His youthful fervor and determination were palpable, but you couldn’t bear the thought of him facing such danger. He was still a boy. And you didn’t want him to deal with this. Not yet. Not while you were still alive.

"Mother, please," Seiryuu implored, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and resolve. "I need to do this. For our family, for our honor."

You shook your head, your heart heavy with worry. "No, my dear boy. You must understandI cannot risk losing you too. You are the future of our clan. We will find another way."

His cerulean eyes, filled with the fire of youth, met yours with unwavering determination. "I am ready, mother. I can do this. I am a grown man. I must avenge my father. Please.”

Despite your resolve, the fear of losing him gnawed at you. The battles had already claimed too much, and the thought of sending your son into such peril was unbearable. "You don’t understand, dearest boy. This war has taken everything from us. I can’t let it take you too."

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "Then let me fight for us. For my father. For everything we’ve lost."

Tears welled in your eyes, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. "I will not lose you, my boy. We will find another way. I promise."

As you stood there, facing your son’s determination, the voice in your head whispered again, mocking your fears and doubts. “No, my son. I am sorry.”

He stared at you, hurt and disappointment etched in the lines of his cerulean eyes. His jaw tightened visibly, a silent testament to the emotions roiling within him. For a brief moment, you searched for the right words, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap that had suddenly formed between you.

But before you could speak, he nodded slowly, the motion deliberate and final. The hurt in his eyes deepened, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Without another glance, he turned abruptly and walked away, leaving you standing there, words unspoken and regrets hanging heavy in the air.

You reached out, a futile gesture towards his retreating figure, wanting to call him back, to explain, to mend what had been broken. But the moment slipped through your fingers like sand, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his footsteps fading into the distance.

As you stood there, grappling with the weight of his disappointment and the ache of your own remorse, you realized the gravity of your actions. The hurt you had caused weighed heavily on your heart, a bitter reminder of the consequences of words left unsaid and moments lost forever.

Masaomi had come to you, his usually composed demeanor overshadowed by urgency and concern. He stood before you, his voice carrying the weight of conviction as he advocated fervently for your son, Seiryuu. His words were measured yet impassioned, highlighting the young boy's potential, his dedication to the Ryomen clan, and the responsibilities that awaited him as the bearer of the six eyes.

"Hiromi-sama," Masaomi began, his voice carrying a mixture of respect and urgency, "Seiryuu-sama believes he is ready. And I must agree. He has grown into a man, and not just any man, but the heir of the Ryomen clan and the Gojo lineage. How will others perceive his mother fighting on his behalf?"

His words hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. Masaomi's concern was palpable, his loyalty to both you and Seiryuu evident in every carefully chosen syllable. He stood before you, awaiting your response. But you don’t say anything. His lips pursed into a line.

"He has the potential to surpass even his predecessors, he already has." Masaomi continued, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. "But he needs a chance to prove himself. And your voice of support, my lady, is most important.”

“He is still a boy.” You whisper to him, your eyes tender with pain. “I do not wish to see him killed, Masaomi. He is all that is left of my husband.”

"He may be a boy but he is a boy who wants to lessen your burdens and avenge his father," Masaomi explained, his voice steady yet impassioned. “He may be your son, but he is your equal now. You cannot deny him.”

You purse your lips as your maternal instincts battling against the tide of his words."He’s still so young, Masaomi. I cannot send him into such danger."

Masaomi’s gaze softened with understanding, yet remained resolute. "He is lord Gojo now, my lady. You cannot shield him from the world of danger forever. Not even if you tried. Do not make him resent you for taking away his only chance to bring peace to his father in himself.”

His words struck a chord within you. You knew he was right. As much as you wanted to protect Seiryuu, you couldn't keep him from his destiny. Tears welled in your eyes as you voiced your deepest fears. He was right, you knew he was. But you could not help yourself. You could not help but stumble into fear one after another.

"I'm terrified, Masaomi. Of losing him, of my weakening body, of death creeping closer."

Masaomi stepped closer, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of your emotions. "You shouldn’t speak that way." he said softly, his hand reaching out to clasp yours. “We shall win, as we always have.”

“I do not deserve your loyalty.” You muttered under your breath. “What would my father say? What would my uncle say?”

He shakes his head. “You have been more than what we could imagine, my lady. I doubt they will say anything but praise, my lady. You were their hope then, and you are our hope now.”

“You flatter me too easily.”

He shifts for a moment, giving you a soft smile. “It is all honest words, my lady.”

You sighed, your eyes shining brighter than before. “You must protect him. That is first and foremost your priority. You understand? Let him lead, but caution him, rein him in when he needs it. I cannot risk losing him too.”

Masaomi's expression softened with empathy as he listened to your whispered words. He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment of your grief and the weight of your fears. He could see a weight lift from your shoulders when you said those words, when you finally let it all go — to finally let them share your burdens.

"I understand, Hiromi-sama," Masaomi replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "Seiryuu-sama's safety and future are paramount to us all. But he is determined, and with your guidance, he will navigate these challenges with the wisdom and strength that you have instilled in him. As your father has done for you.”

You nodded slowly, the ache in your heart palpable as memories of your husband and the burden of leadership mingled in your thoughts. "Very well, Masaomi," you said, your voice steadying with resolve. "Prepare him, but tread cautiously. His path must be chosen wisely."

Masaomi bowed deeply once more, a silent promise in his eyes to uphold your wishes and protect Seiryuu to the best of his ability. As he turns to leave, you call him with a tender tone. He turns his back and looks towards you once more. Your eyes lower for a moment. You do that a lot when you think. When you ponder about what to do. He knew that look too well.

“What do you ask of me again, my lady?”

A sad smile touched your lips. "I have a favor to ask of you."

Without hesitation, he replied, "I’m willing to give everything of myself to you. I always have. You know that.” He stops himself for a moment, looking at you. “My body is yours, my heart is yours, my mind, my soul—everything has been long surrendered, my lady. All you have to do is ask of it and I shall give it.”

You knew he would say that and you knew that he would never deny you anything. You smiled at him, walking towards him. “Then do not deny me this.”

“I would not dare, my lady.”

The decision to marry Masaomi was not taken lightly; it was a strategic move born out of necessity rather than desire. In the tumultuous landscape of ongoing conflicts and shifting alliances, stability and continuity were paramount for the Ryomen clan's survival. As the leader, you bore the weight of ensuring a secure future not only for yourself but for your son, Seiryuu, and the entire clan.

Masaomi had proven himself time and again as a loyal and capable ally. His unwavering support and dedication to the Ryomen clan had earned your trust. Despite the initial surprise and speculation from outsiders, you knew that marrying Masaomi was the best decision to safeguard your son's inheritance and protect the clan's interests.

The news of your marriage spread swiftly through the supernatural community, sparking whispers and speculation. Some questioned the motives behind the union, while others admired your pragmatism in securing the clan's future amidst the chaos of war. For you, it was a sacrifice of personal desires for the greater good, a testament to your resilience and commitment to the Ryomen legacy.

It wasn’t enough that he was your loyal servant. Your son needed a father figure, someone who would protect and guide him with the same fierce devotion you had. Mikoto Masaomi had readily agreed to the marriage, his loyalty unwavering. He had given his life to serve you, and now, he would live to serve and protect your son.

As you stood together, facing the uncertain future, you felt a strange sense of peace. Masaomi’s unwavering presence was a balm to your soul, a reminder that you were not alone in this battle. He would be there, by your side, to face whatever came next.

"I appreciate your dedication, Masaomi," you replied softly, meeting his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and resolve. "Seiryuu is everything to me. He's the last link to his father and our legacy. I trust you with his life as much as I trust you with mine."

Masaomi nodded solemnly, his expression unwavering. "I understand the weight of this responsibility, Hiromi-sama. I will not fail you or Seiryuu. You have my solemn vow."

A brief silence hung between you, filled with unspoken understanding and the weight of the decisions that had led to this moment. You knew the challenges ahead would be daunting, but with Masaomi by your side, you felt a flicker of hope that the Ryomen clan could endure against all odds.

In the midst of the escalating conflict, Masaomi had taken your son with him to quell the resistance from the allies of the usurpers. His mission extended to launching an offensive against the Gojo holdings to decisively eliminate the threat posed by the usurpers. Left behind in the safety of your chambers, you sighed heavily, exhaustion etched into every line of your face as you gently rubbed your swollen belly.

The news of your unexpected pregnancy had caught you off guard. Beyond your childbearing years at nearly forty-three, you had believed such a possibility to be remote, if not impossible. Yet here you were, carrying a child conceived against the odds. The strain on your body was undeniable; each passing day seemed to amplify the weariness that settled deep within your bones. With each movement, you felt the weight of your age and the physical toll of pregnancy, a reminder of the fragility of life even amidst the tumult of war.

And you feared the worst. Most women your age do not survive childbirth. Women even younger than you do not survive it either. There was no security.Even with your previous pregnancies, you have had a hard time. Masaomi had been horrified that such had happened, he had borne guilt over the matter but you had reassured him that you would be fine. He does not yet wish to leave for battle. Not until you had the babe. But you would not stall him. Not when this war longs to be finished and won.

As you sat in the quiet of your chamber, contemplating the risks and uncertainties that loomed ahead, Masaomi entered with a solemn expression, his worry palpable in the furrow of his brow. He approached you with a gentle but concerned gaze, his hands clasped tightly together in a display of internal conflict.

"Are you sure about this, my lady?" Masaomi's voice was soft, tinged with anxiety. "You know the dangers. We've lost so many, and I cannot bear the thought..."

You met his gaze with a calm resolve, though your own fears echoed silently within. "I know the risks, Masaomi. We've faced them before," you replied, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. "I've survived this before, and I believe I can do it again. Our child deserves a chance at life, just as much as we do."

Masaomi's eyes softened with affection and concern as he reached out to gently stroke your cheek. "You are strong, my lady," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But it pains me to see you endure such hardships."

"It's a burden we both bear," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "But we must see this war through to its end. I won't hold you back."

He shook his head slightly, his expression conflicted. "I can't bear to leave you like this."

A small smile touched your lips, filled with reassurance and determination. "You must go, Masaomi. Our people need you," you urged gently. "We will face whatever comes together, as we always have."

Masaomi exhaled heavily, torn between duty and his desire to protect you. Finally, with a nod of reluctant acceptance, he straightened his posture. "I will stay until the child is born," he declared quietly, his resolve firm. "Then I will go, and we will end this war, once and for all."

“You must not.” You tell him, shaking your head. “Finish the war as soon as possible. There will be time to meet the babe after.”

“But my lady—”

“I shan’t change my mind.” You whisper back to him, your hand rubbing the center of your belly. “Your heir may wait.”

He will not win against you. Not a mere consort. He purses his lips. He slowly nodded. “Very well, my lady.”

“There is another I must leave to you,” You tell him. “Just in case.”

“What is it, my lady?”

"Should I die, Sukuna will try and lay claim to the Ryomen's power," you say, your voice steady but filled with resolve. "He has the name, the legitimacy equal to mine. None can stand against him."

Masaomi's eyes widen with shock. "But, my lady, to let the Ryomen name die... It's unthinkable. The Mikoto were a lowly house. To supersede the Ryomen...”

You cut him off, your tone firm. "It does not matter. My children will understand my will, and so must you. This is the only way to ensure their safety and the future of our clan."

Masaomi's expression is conflicted. "But, my lady, the burden... It is too great. The legacy of the Ryomen cannot simply be passed on like a mere title."

You meet his gaze, unyielding. "I leave you with the duty of caring for the clan. It is better that way because you are the one I trust the most."

He shakes his head, still grappling with your decision. "My lady, this is too much. The Mikoto name... it cannot bear the weight of the Ryomen legacy."

A sad smile touches your lips. "It must. For the sake of my children, and for the future of our people. You are strong, Masaomi. You will carry this burden and protect them."

Masaomi's eyes glisten with unshed tears. "I... I will do as you wish, my lady. But I pray that you live long enough to see your children grow, to see this burden through yourself."

You nod, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. "Thank you, Masaomi. I know you will do everything in your power to honor my wishes."

With a heavy heart, Masaomi bows his head. "I will, my lady. I promise you that."

As he leaves, you feel a sense of relief mixed with sorrow. He turns his head back and makes his way towards you. You shrugged, taking a moment to look at him. He lowers his eyes and turns to your belly. His hand touches the babe, letting himself feel the movement of the little one—as though he’s burning it into memory. Seiryuu turns from his horse as he watches you and his stepfather have a moment. He bows his head to you and rushes forward, commanding the men. Your husband sighs, taking his hand off.

“Will you not change your mind?”

“No, I will not.” You tell him once again, smile on your face. “The past must die with me. And be born with this little one, a new world.”

“You should not say such things so easily, my lady.”

“You do not know what will happen. It is better to be prepared.”

"My lady, this is too great a burden for Mikoto. To bear such a name, to carry on such a legacy—"

You shake your head, cutting him off. "No more, Masaomi. I do not wish to hear any more. You have to leave soon for the campaign against the Gojo usurpers. This is my will, and you must honor it."

Reluctantly, he nods, understanding the gravity of your decision. "When I return, we shall continue this conversation."

A faint smile tugs at your lips. "Perhaps."

As Masaomi prepares to depart, you feel a mixture of relief and sorrow. The burden of leadership weighs heavily on your shoulders, but you find solace in the knowledge that Masaomi will carry on your legacy and protect your children. You watched until they disappeared into the distance. You felt your child kick your belly. You sighed, rubbing the spot so tenderly against your layers of silk.

“You will have quite the future.” You whispered to your babe.

You can only pray to the gods that you are right this time.

Even if you would not be a part of it for much too long.

YOU SCREAM AND SCREAM. In the stillness of that fateful night in 973, the plans of the Gojo usurpers unfolded like a dark shadow cast over the impending dawn of victory. The air was thick with tension, the flickering torches casting eerie glows on the faces of the conspirators as they huddled in clandestine meetings, their voices hushed but urgent.

The Gojo usurpers, their ambitions threatened by the advancing forces of Gojo loyalists, the Mikoto warriors, and the steadfast Ryomen allies, knew that their only chance lay in a desperate gambit. The decision was made with grim resolve—to strike directly at the heart of their adversaries' strength.

Their target was clear: you, the matriarch of the Gojo clan, and Masako, your daughter, the symbol of the clan's future. By eliminating you and seizing Masako, they aimed to cripple the Gojo's leadership and secure their own claims through blood ties. The marriage of Masako to one of their sons would not only validate their rule but also ensure a fragile semblance of legitimacy amidst the chaos of war.

Under the cover of darkness, their forces mobilized with stealth and determination. Armed with the cold resolve of desperate men facing inevitable defeat, they moved swiftly towards Hida, where you resided, unaware of the imminent danger that lurked just beyond the horizon.

The night echoed with the distant sounds of marching armies, the clinking of armor, and the whispered orders of commanders. Each footfall carried with it the weight of treachery and ambition, as the usurpers plotted to reshape the fate of the Gojo clan in a single, decisive strike.

As dawn approached, the air was heavy with anticipation and dread. The clash of loyalties and ambitions hung like a storm cloud over Hida, where the fate of generations would soon be decided amidst the chaos and uncertainty of war.

In the tumultuous darkness of that pivotal night, your body, already weakened by age and the strain of conflict, began to betray you. The onset of labor pains, sharp and unrelenting, signaled the beginning of a battle within yourself—one that mirrored the external turmoil besieging Hida.

Surrounded by the distant clamor of warfare and the urgent incantations of sorcerers, you endured the excruciating waves of pain with a resolve born of necessity. The severity of your condition was undeniable, the bleeding relentless, yet your determination to bring life into the world burned fiercer than ever.

Amidst the chaos of battle encroaching upon Hida's walls, you gritted your teeth and pushed with all the strength you could muster. Each agonizing moment underscored the fragility of life amidst the brutality of war. The fear of failure, of succumbing to the machinations of the usurpers, spurred you on, driving you to defy the darkness that threatened to consume everything you held dear.

With each contraction, each cry of anguish mingling with the clash of swords and the roar of flames, you fought. And finally, in a breathless moment that seemed to suspend time itself, your efforts bore fruit—a daughter, fragile and yet a testament to resilience, was born into the chaos of that fateful night.

As you cradled the newborn in your arms, the weight of exhaustion and relief washed over you. The cries of battle continued outside, a stark reminder of the world awaiting her beyond the sanctity of your embrace. Yet, in that fleeting moment, amidst the turmoil and uncertainty, there existed a fragile hope—a new life to protect, to nurture, and to defend against the tumultuous currents of fate.

With your newborn daughter nestled against your chest, the world around you seemed to quiet, if only for a fleeting moment. Despite the relentless siege on Hida and the precariousness of your own health, a sense of profound peace settled within you as you gazed upon the fragile life you had brought into the world.

Outside, the battle raged on, its intensity echoing through the walls of the fortress. Sorcerers and warriors continued to fend off the relentless assault of the usurpers, their efforts a stark contrast to the fragile serenity within the birthing chamber.

Amidst the chaos, you felt a surge of gratitude for the loyal defenders risking their lives to safeguard your family and your home. Their unwavering commitment bolstered your resolve, reminding you of the stakes of this conflict—a battle not only for territory but for the very future of your lineage.

As you cradled your daughter, her small features a delicate reflection of hope amid adversity, thoughts of Masako and Seiryuu weighed heavily on your mind. They were out there, fighting not only for victory but for her future—a future shaped by the outcome of this night's struggle.

Despite the pain and exhaustion, a sense of determination coursed through you. You knew the battle was far from over. The usurpers' desperation had made them ruthless, but it had also exposed their vulnerabilities. This night would mark a turning point, one where courage and sacrifice would forge a path forward for your family and your people.

In the flickering light of torches and the distant glow of fires, you whispered promises to your newborn daughter, vows of protection and love that transcended the turmoil surrounding you. With each gentle stroke of your hand against her soft cheek, you silently vowed to defy the darkness that threatened to engulf your world.

With trembling hands, the weight of your newborn daughter felt both fragile and heavy against your chest. The urgent cries from outside the birthing chamber reminded you of the perilous situation unfolding around Hida. Each echo of battle brought a stark reality to your decision—a decision born of necessity and love.

Your most trusted servant, a woman whose loyalty and dedication had been unwavering through years of service, stepped forward with solemn reverence. Her eyes, usually steady and determined, reflected the gravity of your command. She understood the weight of your words, the urgency conveyed in your trembling voice.

"Milady," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of chaos. "I will protect them with my life."

As you placed your daughter into her waiting arms, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over you—fear for their safety, relief at their imminent departure from the besieged fortress, and an overwhelming sense of maternal instinct driving you to ensure their survival.

The newborn daughter, swaddled in soft fabrics, stirred slightly in response to the change in environment, unaware of the danger that surrounded her. Her innocent presence contrasted sharply with the turmoil outside, a poignant reminder of the fragile balance between life and death in times of war.

With a final glance, you entrusted not just your daughter, but the future of your lineage, into the hands of your loyal servant. Her resolute expression mirrored your own determination, a shared understanding of the sacrifices demanded by duty and love.

"Go," you whispered again, your voice steadier this time despite the lingering ache of separation. "Protect them."

As she turned to leave, your gaze followed her retreating figure until she disappeared into the shadows of the fortress corridors. The weight of your decision settled heavily upon your shoulders, a burden borne out of necessity to ensure survival. They must outlive you. They must go on and live. As long as they were alive, you will be too.

As the chaos of battle drew nearer, the urgent shouts and clashes of swords reverberated through the walls of Hida fortress. Sorcerers and warriors fought fiercely, their spells and blades flashing in desperate attempts to fend off the relentless onslaught of the Gojo usurpers. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood, a stark reminder of the brutal reality of war.

Despite the turmoil outside, you lay back in the dimly lit chamber, your strength waning but your resolve unwavering. Every labored breath carried the weight of exhaustion and pain, yet amidst the physical torment, your thoughts were consumed by the safety of your daughters. With each passing moment, the sounds of battle seemed to grow louder, a grim testament to the escalating violence that threatened to engulf everything you held dear.

The loyal servant hurriedly gathered Masako, your eldest daughter, and the newborn infant, her movements swift and determined in the face of imminent danger. The newborn's soft cries mingled with the chaos outside, a fragile testament to new life amidst the brutality of conflict. As the servant prepared to depart with your precious daughters, you knew that this moment marked a pivotal sacrifice—an act of maternal love that demanded separation to ensure their survival.

With a final, tender glance at Masako and the newborn, the servant disappeared into the darkness of the fortress corridors, her figure silhouetted against the flickering torchlight. In that fleeting moment, you whispered a prayer, a fervent plea to whatever powers might listen, that they would find safety beyond the walls of Hida.

Alone in the dim chamber, surrounded by the echoes of battle and the fading light, you closed your eyes, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. Despite the weariness that threatened to overtake you, a flicker of hope burned bright—a fragile ember of belief that your sacrifices would not be in vain. With every ounce of strength, you clung to the belief that the combined forces of Gojo loyalists, the Mikoto, and the Ryomen would prevail, ensuring a future where peace and justice could once again reign.

In the quiet solitude of the birthing chamber, amidst the turmoil of war, you surrendered to exhaustion, your mind drifting between the realms of consciousness and dreams. With each passing moment, you held onto the hope that your daughters would find refuge, that they would grow to see a world where their mother's sacrifice had secured their future.

You let the tears pour from your face freely.

You made your peace with life and death.

You slowly sat up from the childbed and sighed.

“There must be an end, there must be.”

YOU COULD FEEL YOUR BODY TEAR ITSELF APART. Amidst the chaos of battle, blood seeped from your body in a steady, unnerving flow as you navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the Ryomen Manor. Each step was a struggle against the onslaught of childbirth, tearing through you with relentless force. The pain was an unyielding companion, a relentless torrent that threatened to consume every ounce of strength you possessed.

Blades clashed and cursed energies crackled around you, a symphony of violence that echoed through the once serene halls. Each encounter reverberated with desperate cries and anguished screams, the sound of battle and suffering intertwined in a cacophony that filled the air. Fear, raw and palpable, hung heavy like a shroud, mingling with the acrid scent of smoke and the coppery taste of blood.

In the midst of it all, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Every sensation—fear, pain, anger, grief—merged into a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to overwhelm. Even as your own body numbed from the relentless onslaught, you remained keenly aware of the turmoil around you. The urgency to escape, to ensure the safety of your newborn daughter and Masako, drove you forward despite the physical agony and the impending danger that lurked around every corner.

The world beyond the inner chambers of the manor beckoned—a world where hope for survival flickered like a fragile flame in the storm of battle. With each faltering step, you pressed onward, your determination fuelled by a mother's instinct to protect her children at any cost. Every heartbeat, every labored breath, a surge of blossoming climax to war’s games.

At any moment, you were sure that your body would collapse. But that did not matter. You looked to the blood blow you. Your eyes fluttered, trying to keep awake. This would be enough. Enough blood. You stand in position, as straight as you possibly could and raise your hands near you. You took a deep breath as your hands spread out in front, with thumb and index finger touching.

“The seal of the ring of the Sun, Moon, and Earth.” You muttered under your breath as your body surges with cursed energy. “The gates of heaven, the battles of Bishamon, the naginata to blow….domain expansion! Heavenly Subjugation!”

As you uttered the incantation, the air crackled with tension, charged with the intensity of ancient powers coursing through your veins. The seal of the Sun, Moon, and Earth manifested upon your flesh, glowing with a primal energy that seemed to draw upon the very essence of celestial forces. Cursed energy surged within you, intertwining with your resolve to protect what remained of the Ryomen lands.

Above, the sky twisted and darkened, clouds swirling in ominous patterns that mirrored the chaos unleashed below. Stars twinkled with an otherworldly brilliance, aligning in intricate constellations that seemed to dictate the course of fate. The earth itself trembled beneath your feet, a testament to the raw power now at your command.

With a deep, steadying breath, you felt the blood flowing from your wounds mingle with the cursed energy, forming a potent symbol of your determination and sacrifice. The land itself responded to your call, the whole of Ryomen's domain pulsating with the echoes of ancient battles and celestial subjugation.

As you invoked the Heavenly Subjugation, time itself seemed to warp and bend. The world around you froze in suspended animation, caught within the unyielding grasp of your domain expansion. Minds trapped within the frozen tableau of reality, repeating in an endless loop, their actions and intentions ensnared by the unrelenting power you wielded.

Through gritted teeth, you focused every fiber of your being on maintaining the domain. The weight of centuries-old grievances, the sorrow of loss, and the fierce determination to protect your legacy propelled you forward. Each moment stretched into eternity, every heartbeat synchronized with the ebb and flow of celestial forces harnessed through your will.

Ryomen Sukuna arrived soon enough. You did not know how he knew, but he could feel you—your cursed energy spreading through Hida, mayhaps even beyond. The scent, the tension, the force of it was unmistakable to him. His eyes grew wide as he took in the scene before him: your Domain Expansion, Heavenly Subjugation, where darkness swallowed the world.

You stood in the courtyard of the Ryomen manor, bleeding from childbirth, your eyes slowly losing their light even as your stance remained resolute. You were altering reality as you spoke, creating a time loop illusion to protect those you loved. Sukuna knew that you had to keep yourself alive long enough to sustain the loop.

Breathing heavily, you barely registered Sukuna's approach. "Stop,stop it now!" he commanded, his voice filled with a rare note of desperation. "End it. The more you continue, the closer you are to death. Hiromi!”

You looked down at the blood pooling at your feet, from the birth of your child. Determination filled your bright purple eyes as you began to chant once more, releasing more cursed energy. It mixed with your blood as you invoked, "Heaven’s Blossom."

Brutally misfigured, cursed spirits emerged from the pool of blood, their forms twisted and horrific. Each spirit bore the mark of their origin—born from your blood, infused with the dark energies that coursed through your veins. Their emergence was heralded by a guttural, otherworldly howl that echoed through the chamber, chilling the very air.

The spirits wasted no time in manifesting their malevolent intent. With a relentless fury, one of them lunged at Sukuna, the King of Curses, a primal force of chaos and destruction. Sukuna met the attack with a snarl of defiance, his movements fluid and deadly as he defended himself against the spectral assailant. The clash between the ancient curse and the vengeful spirit was a symphony of violence, each strike reverberating with primal power.

Meanwhile, the other cursed spirits moved with eerie precision, their ghastly forms gliding across the chamber floor towards their intended targets. With merciless efficiency, they descended upon their victims, their talons and fangs tearing through flesh and bone with grotesque ease. The more blood that flowed, the more the creatures seemed to grow in strength and ferocity, their unearthly hunger driving them to greater acts of carnage.

Amidst the chaos, another spirit joined the fray against Sukuna, its spectral form shimmering with malevolent energy. The King of Curses found himself beset on all sides, forced to fend off multiple adversaries while striving to reach you, their creator and the source of their dark genesis.

The chamber became a battleground of primal forces, a maelstrom of violence and supernatural prowess. The air crackled with dark energy, the stench of blood and death hanging heavy as the cursed spirits unleashed their unholy wrath upon all who dared to stand in their path.

Through the haze of battle, you struggled to maintain control, your bleeding wrists pulsing with cursed energy that fueled the relentless assault of your creations. Every movement was a calculated dance of survival and domination, your willpower tested against the insatiable hunger of the spirits you had unleashed upon the world.

As Sukuna fought tooth and nail to break through the onslaught and reach you, the chamber trembled with the intensity of the conflict. Each blow struck resonated with the weight of destiny, the outcome of the struggle poised on a knife's edge between triumph and oblivion.

"Stop this madness!" he shouted, slashing through one of the cursed spirits with a fierce swipe. But your resolve did not waver. You knew that this was the only way to ensure the safety of your children. “Night flower, please—”

You did not listen. The cursed spirits, borne of your blood and unleashed with relentless fury, swarmed the courtyard like vengeful specters. Their twisted forms twisted and tore through the ranks of the Gojo usurpers and their allies, leaving a trail of carnage in their wake. The air reverberated with the chilling echoes of their unearthly howls, a grim symphony to accompany the onslaught of death and destruction.

But Sukuna, the King of Curses, would not yield to such malevolent forces unchallenged. With ferocious determination, he met the spirits head-on, his movements fluid and deadly as he tore through them one by one. Each strike of his monstrous strength was a testament to his primal power, his wrathful gaze fixed upon you amidst the chaos.

The courtyard became a battleground, a grisly tableau of blood and death as Sukuna's relentless onslaught turned the tide of battle. The cursed spirits, once formidable in their malevolence, fell before his fury, their ethereal forms dissipating into nothingness with each devastating blow. Yet, despite the carnage surrounding him, Sukuna's focus remained singular—on reaching you, the source of this dark and chaotic magic.

As the last of the cursed spirits fell to Sukuna's relentless assault, the courtyard fell eerily silent, save for the ragged breaths and the lingering echoes of battle. The ground beneath your feet was stained with the blood of fallen enemies, mingling with the earth in a grim testament to the cost of war.

In the aftermath, Sukuna's eyes, filled with a mixture of relief and anger, locked onto you. His powerful presence approached swiftly, the intensity of his gaze piercing through the aftermath of chaos. Despite the victory, the tension in his demeanor was palpable, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within him.

He reached you in swift strides, his footsteps echoing in the quietude that followed the storm. The King of Curses stood before you, his towering form a stark contrast against the backdrop of devastation. His expression, a mask of emotions ranging from fury to concern, betrayed the depth of his turmoil. It was like then all over again, you think to yourself. When he was a boy.

"You fool. You stupid, stupid fool." Sukuna growled, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the courtyard. "How could you do this? You knew from the very beginning that you could—”

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and remorse, the weight of your decisions heavy upon your shoulders. "I had to. you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "There was no other choice."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable as he regarded you with an intensity that bordered on fury. "There is always a choice, you know that." he countered, his voice a dangerous whisper. "But you chose darkness. This stupidity.”

“As you did.” You smiled at him wearily.

"You did it," he said, his voice breaking. "But at what cost?"

You swayed on your feet, the toll of the fight and childbirth overwhelming you. "The cost was necessary," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "My children are safe."

As your domain shattered around you, the immense strain and the toll of wielding such dark power became unbearable. Gasping for breath, you felt every fiber of your being scream with exhaustion, threatening to give way beneath the weight of your own formidable abilities.

Sukuna's voice echoed faintly in the distance, calling out your name with urgency and concern. The once-imposing battlefield around you now seemed distant and surreal, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of your body failing you. With each labored breath, the air burned in your lungs, and you struggled to remain conscious as the ground rushed up to meet you.

The bitter cold of winter snowflakes began to drift down from the leaden sky, settling softly upon your face and hands. The serene descent of snowflakes painted a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded, a haunting reminder of the fleeting beauty and harsh reality of life.

Sukuna's strong arms enveloped you, pulling you close with a mix of desperation and tenderness. His gaze bore into yours, filled with a sudden panic that mirrored the intensity of your own struggle. He could see life slipping away from you, and his heart clenched with a fierce protectiveness born of deep and unexpected emotion.

"Calm down," Sukuna urged, his voice thick with emotion as he cradled your weakening form. "Stay with me."

You tried to respond, but each attempt was met with a painful cough, blood staining your lips and throat. The metallic taste of iron lingered, a cruel reminder of the toll exacted by your relentless pursuit of power and protection.

"I'm sorry," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the biting wind and the soft patte of falling snow. "I didn't mean..."

Sukuna's expression softened, his features etched with a profound sorrow that cut deeper than any blade. He pressed his forehead against yours, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the biting cold that threatened to claim you. His fingers brushed gently over your cheek, as if trying to imprint your presence into his memory forever.

"Don't speak," Sukuna murmured, his voice a mixture of anguish and fierce determination. "You'll make it through this. I won't let you go."

But even as he spoke, you felt the world slipping further away, the edges of your vision blurring into darkness. Each breath became a struggle, a battle against the inevitable pull of unconsciousness and the chill of approaching death.

As the snow continued to fall, softening the harsh outlines of the world around you, you closed your eyes. The weight of your decisions and the burden of your power finally relinquished, replaced by a quiet acceptance. An acceptance that he does not accept.

In Ryomen Sukuna's embrace, surrounded by the gentle embrace of winter's embrace, you surrendered to the inevitable passage of time. Your breathing slowed, the rhythm of your heartbeat fading into the stillness of a world forever changed. You let it all be, surrendering to the echoes of the cycle.

He tries to shake you, his voice urgent and filled with desperation. "Keep your eyes open for me. I can find someone to heal you."

You shake your head weakly at him, a sad smile touching your lips. "I knew it would end this way." you whisper to him with a soft tone. “From the beginning….”

Sukuna's red four eyes are wide with fear and sorrow as he clutches you tighter. "No, no," he swears, his voice breaking. "I will heal you. I will take care of you."

You reach up and touch his face gently. "I'm exhausted, Sukuna. It's time."

Tears brim in his eyes as he pleads, "Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me."

Your vision begins to blur, but you manage to smile at him one last time. "I have to leave. People always must."

“You are not people. You’re…you’re….”

You take his hand and kiss it softly, feeling the warmth of his skin for the last time. "I loved you the most in this life, but I hope in the next, I would not."

As you slowly drift away in his arms, the world around you becomes a distant blur. Sukuna's anguished cries echo in your fading consciousness, a haunting melody of love and loss. His grip tightens, as if he could tether your soul to this mortal realm, but even he, with all his formidable power, cannot halt the inevitable.

The winter snow falls softly, blanketing the world in a cold, quiet stillness. Sukuna's breath fogs in the air as he holds you, his tears mingling with the snowflakes that settle on your skin. His voice, once so commanding and fierce, is now a broken whisper.

"I won't let you go," he murmurs, his tone laced with a desperation born of centuries of solitude. "I won't...Not now. Not ever.”

Your hand, resting gently against his face, falls limply to your side. The warmth of your touch fades, and the light in your eyes dims until it is no more. The final breath escapes your lips, a soft sigh that carries your spirit away from the realm of the living.

Sukuna holds you close, his body trembling with the weight of his grief. The courtyard, once a battlefield, is now silent, save for the soft whisper of the falling snow. He remains there, cradling you in his arms, the world around him a stark contrast to the turmoil within his heart.

Hours pass, and the first light of dawn begins to break through the darkness. The sky blushes with the hues of sunrise, painting the scene with a fragile beauty. But Sukuna is oblivious to it all. His world has shattered, and no amount of time can mend the pieces of his broken heart.

Amidst the crimson-stained snow, Ryomen Hiromi, esteemed leader of the Ryomen clan, breathed your last breath. The battlefield, now silent except for the soft fluttering of snowflakes, bore witness to the end of a formidable life—a life marked by courage, devotion, and unwavering love.

Sukuna knelt beside you, his hands trembling as they cradled your still form. His gaze, usually fierce and unyielding, softened with grief and disbelief. Your once-vibrant eyes, now closed in eternal rest, held the reflection of a thousand battles fought and victories won.

"Night flower….." he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion. "My love..."

He pressed his forehead against yours, as if seeking solace in the remnants of your warmth. Memories flooded his mind—of laughter shared beneath moonlit skies, of whispered promises in the quiet of night, of battles fought side by side against insurmountable odds.

But now, there was only silence. The weight of your absence settled upon him like a leaden cloak, suffocating and unbearable. The woman who had been his anchor, his confidante, his beloved, was now gone, leaving behind an irreplaceable void.

In the distance, the first rays of dawn painted the horizon with hues of gold and pink, a poignant contrast to the sorrow that enveloped Sukuna's heart. He knew that life would go on, that wars would be waged and victories celebrated, but for now, all he could feel was the emptiness left by your departure.

Gently, Sukuna closed your eyes, his touch tender yet filled with a profound sense of loss. He kissed your forehead, a final farewell to the woman who had captured his heart so completely. "Rest now, my love," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the whispering wind. "You will forever be in my heart."

As the world stirred awake to greet a new day, Sukuna remained by your side, his grief a silent tribute to the depth of your bond. The snow continued to fall, covering the earth in a blanket of white, the echoes of purity in your love amidst the chaos of war and destiny.

And so, amidst the red snow, Ryomen Hiromi passed from this world.

Ryomen Sukuna realized for the first time in years what it was truly like.

What it was truly like to be the most powerless creature in all of the world.

facts about this chapter

i can finally reveal the family tree of the ryomen family. i had to hold off but this is the family tree in the book, written by the newly born lady mikoto about her mom.

the mikoto became a prevalent clan by the end of the wars. the ryomen family name remained as a secondary name, but people ignored it the moment the family name changed to mikoto.

masaomi never remarried - he focused on revitalizing the ryomen/mikoto into one of the outliers of the jujutsu world all his life and protected his only child from any politiking that threatened her.

the mikoto are divided into two ranks now - those blood descendants of hiromi and those adopted and or are mikoto. the descendants of hiromi are represented by red and those adopted and or are mikoto are presented by purple. it traces where you come from in the clan.

hiromi's hand sign for heavenly subjugation is from the kuji-in or nine hand seals which are system of mudras and associated mantras that consist of nine syllables. hiromi uses number eight which is called zen.

eight is considered a holy number in ancient japan. its also considered a number of prosperity. the death of hiromi brings prosperity to other people, except herself.

hiromi dies at the age of 43 - which sounds like stillbirth in japanese. 死産 - shizan: 死 - death/to die and 産 - childbirth/produce.

masako was unseated as the heir to the ryomen because of the birth of her sister - due to the fact that her mother married masaomi and had a child with him. with the change of the clan name and the change in the system, masako was thought to be better as her brother's adviser.

the beginning of the gojo-ryomen/mikoto family ties truly started with the marriages between the children of hiromi. gojo satoru traces his descent from them.

sukuna did not challenge hiromi's youngest child for the ryomen seat. but a lot of the ryomen bannermen sided with him or went to the service of the gojo because masaomi was lowly in rank and thought sukuna or seiryuu/masako had more blood right than masaomi or his daughter did.

the chapter word number is in total 9900 words last i check and nine is an unlucky number in japanese. as nine often can sometimes pronounced ku — with the same pronunciation as agony or torture.

the next chapter happens near 70, 80 years after the death of hiromi and it will be from sukuna's perspective.

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phoeebsbuffay · 11 months

Text

Imagine when everyone ignores Anakin Skywalker's growing darkness...but you. What are you going to do?

Warnings: angst, drama, explicit smut.

Warnings 2: *long post*; unburnt Vader.

Strong recommendations: “Say Don’t Go”, Taylor Swift.

No minors

Preface

You are getting ready for your next mission when you hear steps. You know whose steps are, not entirely surprised when detecting the darkness they echo.

You quickly leave aside your preparations to meet him, but there is no need: he comes after you. Anakin opens the door abruptly and this is the moment where one faces the other.

“Master Y/N Y/LN”, he addresses you cooly.

The sound of his voice breaks your heart; a curious contrast to his eyes, whose new color could flare you in burning hell. You feel tears choking your throat, never reaching your eyes, though.

“There is no need to use formalities, Anakin. Is this what we are now? Strangers to each other?”

“I am a tragedy roll”, he speaks angrily. “This is the moment we must say goodbye to each other.”

“Am I a waste of memory?”, you burst out. “A song of goodbye to be sang in your head?”

Although he is expecting a reaction of you, such words are not what his mind had played before. It is strange to see in you the mirror of his angst.

“What other alternative is there? The Jedis are corrupted!”, Anakin yells and the quarters you are at seem to shake. But you remain there, still. “They brought me to decay!”

“That's not the truth! You brought this to yourself, although fairly so!”, you speak anxiously, going towards him. “Forget about everything. Forget about them. This isn’t about the Jedis or the Siths. It’s about who are you becoming, Ani.”

There are tears in his eyes, but also the depth of darkness that drags you into it, like the gravity of Tartarus. A call you cannot refuse.

Yet, you feel strangely in peace when being pulled into it.

“You don’t understand.”

“I do”, you speak softly. “I don’t judge you whatsoever. I am not asking you to choose. I am, however, trying to wake you up from this illusion. There is darkness in me as there is in you. But we can be at peace with it.”

“You sound convicted”, he whispers, eyeing down to his hands, holding the saber still.

“Your lack of conviction is disturbing, dear Ani”, you side smirk at him.

He raises his eyes to meet yours. Silence hangs in between you two. What’s to happen then?

***

A few years ago.

When you first meet him, he is the General Skywalker everyone talks about, known for his blows, his sagacity, ferocity in battlefield, but also for his sharp wit and tongue that may displease some people—not that he cares about it.

There is also a rumor that this handsome General is romantically linked to Senator Padmé, but you don’t care about rumors. You are hardly interested in this kind of gossip.

What you want is to prove your worth to your Master before you rise to become a proper Jedi. You are given a mission, delegated under the command of the said general.

“So here you are”, he greets you with a smug on his face. But you don’t find him arrogant as some had warned you about, rather you are amused by his cockiness. “Y/N Y/LN, aspiring to be a Knight Jedi. Am I correct?”

“Aye”, you respond confidently. “My trials are expected to occur towards the end of this year, however, as I’ve been developing well, my Master is giving me a chance to be trained under your guidance.”

Anakin folds his arms, analyzing you. There is something about you that reminds him of himself—he is precociously aimed to be a Master, whereas you are almost the same level of Ahsoka, his Padawan. However, you strike him something far different than Ahsoka.

A strange feeling seems to placate his heart. Anakin reads your anxiety, however, and says:

“Very well. But before we set on mission, I want to see how good you are, Y/LN.”

You side smirk at him.

“You won’t be disappointed, General Skywalker.”

He raises his eyebrows, but you spot a shadowy smile forming on his lips: you know you had surprised him, something few could do.

***

Anakin is indeed surprised by you. When you first train together, your discipline and strength out-stand his judgement. You could be his equal, your master had ensured that.

“Well, looks like you are quite gifted, Jedi. Why haven’t I heard of you before goes beyond my understanding.”

“I wasn’t ready to make my name yet”, you shrug your shoulder.

He cannot help a laughter. Disdain rolls out of his tongue when he says:

“So is this what’s it about? Making your name?”

“No”, you disguise well the anxiety of being misinterpreted. “It’s more than that. But if I want to become a Jedi I must be useful, be known.”

“This is not about you, Y/LN. Being a Jedi is much more than making yourself a name. It’s about others, making peace before all”, he explains.

“Why fighting to make peace then? If one does not rise, one cannot be useful.”

Ah, Anakin thinks, here it is. Her wit is as sharp as Ahsoka’s if not more because of her age. He chuckles.

“These are good questions to be asked. How observing.”

“It’s not that difficult to perceive, but to be perceived”, you tell him as you straighten yourself, keeping your saber once the training ends.

“What’s to be perceived? To be seen? Why does it matter to have your name written down in dusty old pages?”, Anakin teases you, for he wishes to hear more of you.

You turn at him. Your eyes meet in one significant gaze, and even though you are aware he’s trying to read your intentions, you block him. Another smirk comes to your lips when seeing frustration in his tempest blue eyes.

“Call it insecurity if you like. I call it making my journey. Not for others, but for being Jedi. You say being a Jedi is for others, which I agree. But it all starts with a personal journey. If I don’t make my name, General, I cannot give it to others. I cannot create my strength, my purpose dies in ink.”

“It makes sense”, remarks Anakin, musing how much of what you say is something that he once thought too. “Just be mindful of your duties.”

“As always, Master.”

As you leave, however, his eyes are glued on you. What mystery is the aura you have, or would be the innocent beauty that has captivated him, mixed with this atypical force you bear?

***

Fighting under General Skywalker’s orders is more than one could normally take. He is demanding, he might sound cold to others, he is intense. Every inch the fruit of Kenobi, as you heard once.

But you manage to keep up. You fight as hard as him, you follow his steps in silence, somehow you want to be like him…or even overcome him. The fierceness in him defies you.

And he sees it.

“Don’t climb too fast”, he advises you once. “Otherwise the fall will be too hard.”

Your pride is knocked down, but reason admits it to be necessary. Why pressing for an inexistent rivalry?

“Learn from the best and the best you will be”, he smiles at you.

It’s a good time to learn and you do your best to follow his footsteps. Until things start to get out of control.

***

The first signs are seen when Master Windu arrogantly dismisses General Skywalker’s attempts to be acknowledged as Jedi Master, or his contributions to the Jedi Order. More than once you come to find Anakin struggling not to speak some dirty truths to the other male’s face.

And it starts not to become rare his impulsiveness. Which leads him to a state of rage that once had you internally scared.

You have just landed from a difficult mission, starting to collect your new scars, when you find him fuming.

“…that son of a whore!”

Your eyes go wide. Luckily for you, he doesn’t see you. Anakin has in mind that apparently a third person such as Senator Clovis, whose allegiance to the Republic has been very dubious, has more than good intentions to Padmé. His care for the lady in question has been misinterpreted as being excess of jealousy which led them to a fight and a subsequent break up.

He’s been so caught up with this wave of rage and frustration about how nothing he does is enough that he barely sees you—believing to be by himself, Anakin thinks to be safe to release this rage.

But when he spots a delicated figure standing before him, he has the decency to blush.

“Ah, Y/LN. It’s you.”

Why does it flinch to hear him address you as such? But you dismiss your sentiments by putting a face.

“Excuse me, General Skywalker. Rex sent me here to deliver you this hologram. He asked me to do so before I join his squad.”

Anakin raises his eyes to study you carefully. Though pleased to see you are well versed in mind studies, he wishes he could know more of you. Leaving these anxieties aside, he says:

“Join his squad? Why? You are my best…” Anakin realizes he doesn’t have exactly a good word to qualify your position. “Well, my best comrade.” He pulls a grimace at such thought.

You giggle. As you place a curl behind your ear, suddenly Anakin realizes you are…a very good looking woman.

“We ought to depart soon, Sir. Please excuse my forwardness in coming in such a bad day.”

Funny it is, Anakin thinks, how he had only eyes for Padmé. But what intrigues him is: how come so suddenly does he notice your unique beauty? Your y/c eyes display goodness, but also locked doors: which only frustrates him.

Anakin sighs, trying to focus at the present moment.

“There is nothing to be excused for. Come, let me be a better host and offer you something to drink or eat. Unless you are in a hurry?”

Suddenly shy, you say:

“No, sir. I am departing in two days, although I am considering leaving earlier with the men.”

Anakin casts you a meaningful glance, one of the kind you cannot precise it.

“Why leaving earlier? Is it something from the Council?”

You notice his subtle despise to it, but make no mention of it.

“No. Nothing about it. I just have a hutch about the Ventress, is all.”

Anakin instantly turns at you.

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N? You cannot go after her! You are not even a Jedi yet!”

“Well, thank you for reminding me of it, Master”, you retort, hurt. “But I do believe I am as capable as you in going after her.”

Once sitting at the couch of his quarters and with drinks in your hands, Anakin softens.

“Apologies, Y/N. I did not mean to say these things. You are the best Padawan I’ve seen so far, but you are young, though, and the Ventress is dangerous and experienced. She proved tough even to Obi-Wan.”

You tilt your head to your right and, to Anakin’s dismay, there is a spark of amusement behind your y/c eyes.

“Young, so you claim. But we are not that different. I am merely a few years younger than you, General. Two, if I am correct.”

“Of all the things I said this is what concerns you the most?”, he exclaims, slightly annoyed.

“Yes, it it’s”, you snap back.

“Don’t you be snippy at me, Y/N.”

The only reason you don’t grow any bolder is that you see something behind those piercing blue eyes that gets you alarmed. You are not entirely imprudent, however, so you choose silence as your weapon.

“As you wish, General.”

To his perplexity, you walk away. But what’s worse is that he feels hurt at you doing so. A part of him seems to whisper: will the people that come to my life ever stay?

An unspoken thought that for some strange reason seems to reach you. You don’t look back, but you wish things were different. Yet, looking forward tomorrow, you decide to play things from another perspective.

There is little need to wait, though, for as you start to get to your ship, he is right after you.

“Y/N, wait.”

Your heart races when he addresses you. Instantly you turn to meet him, seeing something different in his eyes that shakes you internally.

“I didn’t mean to be rude at you. There’s been too much going on”, Anakin says softly.

“It’s all good”, you offer him a faint smile, bearing compassion in your features. “I know you are going through hard times, Master. You can confide in me.”

He hesitates. You wait. Anakin feels the weight of your gentle gaze on him, but he cannot hold it.

“I… I appreciate it, Y/LN”, he raises his eyes and for a moment when his blue irises linger in yours, your mental shield is threatened. “Truthfully.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Anakin studies you for a moment. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes from it. When it appears he’s going to say anything at all, the hologram calls.

It’s Obi-Wan.

“Looks like we are parting ways”, you say, not covering your disappointment.

“For now, Y/LN”, mumbles Anakin. “For now”.

And so he watches you go. Bitterly so.

***

You prepare to venture after Ventress when Anakin finds you. Today, he’s wearing much darker, somber robes, a contrast to your light vine ones. Despite the differences making your eyebrows frown, you are surprised about his presence.

“Y/LN. Rex informed me of your whereabouts. Stubborn, aren’t we?”, he disapproves your decision, arms folded as he watches you with deep concern in his eyes.

“You may call me Y/N by now, Master”, you give him a smile, much to his dismay. The kind of smile that breaks his barriers, that pulls him to the unknown. “You don’t have to worry about me. The time spent with you prepared me for this.”

“You don’t know what you are saying…” Anakin barely breathes out and you notice the pain in his eyes. “Don’t go, Y/N. I ask you this.”

There is so much to be said, all of which he reads like a torrent of unspoken words that fall over his head like a waterfall. The silence still hangs between you two, momentarily so, painfully so.

“You don’t have to prove your worth”, he whispers, thinking somehow this council to be of the kind he should follow. “Y/N…”

“I swear I’ll make you proud”, you insist, unwilling to be drowned in a puddle of anxiety. “Trust in me, will you?”

Anakin hesitates. You are much his counterpart, the mirror of his best side… somehow you perceive what’s not being said. It’s when you see through him, and this makes you hesitate.

“Anakin”, you call him. “We could go together.”

He is surprised at this sudden request. You clearly haven’t expected this either, but as you realize what you said, your smile grows bigger in your lips.

“We could, couldn’t we?”

That is when your bond deepens. But that is also your first attempt to rescue him from himself…

***

In the midst of the chase, you two end up in planet Y/C, known for the worst temperes, although it’s unlike that volcano planet you loath. There, to your consternation, the chase is delayed by a very bad sand storm.

“The best we can do is use it in our favor”, so tells you Anakin.

“And how’s that?”, you ask, not in the best of your mood.

As he flies to a safe spot, he ensures the environment hides the ship.

“She must be here somewhere. Sometimes we ought to be patient, Padawan.” Anakin side smirks at you.

“Says the one who is not really the most patient man”, you remark with a disapproving head shake.

“Never claimed to be such”, Anakin smiles wide. “We can rest for a moment. If you feel like sleeping. This ship is slightly more spacious than the one I usually pilot. Feel free to have some rest.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m too restless, I’m afraid.”

For a moment, neither you nor Anakin speak. It’s when you are moved by a curiosity that the Jedi already foresees it.

“Say it”, he grumbles under his breath. “Say what you want to say.”

“What? I didn’t say anything at all.”

He folds his arms and gives you a knowing glance. When seeing you blush, Anakin realizes he likes the view.

“I… To be frank, I am worried about you.”

“Yeah? I appreciate your concern, Y/Nickname”, Anakin is pleased when you smile almost unconsciously as he comes up with a nickname that shows how closer you two have become. “But this is war.”

“We cannot let our personal grievances lead the path to madness. It’s unwise”, you realize that your eyes cannot divert from his.

He sighs.

“It’s a weight you don’t understand. You should enjoy your life, Y/Nickname. Do your best, build your convictions and live for them.”

“I do”, you say firmly. “You are part of them. Ever since our paths crossed…”

“Don’t”, Anakin knows he’s being rude by cutting you, but it’s clear an emotional response. “I’ve been there before, it didn’t end well.”

“Allow me to give you hope”, you know you should not insist, but your tongue runs loose. Anakin avoids your gaze, but he cannot flee from you. “Don’t let what we have fade away. I am not her. But this doesn’t have to be what once was.”

He slowly turns his head at you, aware of your silent riot, sensing the pulse of your heart, the urge behind your eyes.

“This path… You don’t want to take, Y/N”, yet he is irresistibly drawn to you.

“Don’t go”, the words are whispered without the consent of your conscience.

What happens next is unpredictably out of control. His lips suddenly collide against yours, his hands cup your face, your body leans against his, your hands are all over him.

In the middle of storm, where nature cries out intensively against the presence of intruders in her domines, you and Anakin are found collapsing in each other.

“Y/Nickname… You shouldn’t make me want you”, Anakin growls under his breath.

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You smile, gently playing with his curls.

“There are many things I shouldn’t want either, but here I am with you.”

Anakin chuckles under his breath.

“You are unbelievable…”

Locking hands with him, you let yourself slide into his lap. You feel his admiring gaze linger over your feature, and you do the same, fearful somehow of losing him.

“Fear leads to anger…”, Anakin whispers when detecting your thoughts, his lips brushing against yours as his hands hold you tight. You can feel his body reacting to your slight moves over his manhood, but you don’t do nothing yet.

“We should not form any romantic attachments”, you whisper back with a naughty smile on your lips, leaning to bite down his bottom lip.

Anakin groans at your provocation, about to let that beast within take the reins of the situation… That is, until the hologram buzzes.

It’s Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Again.

***

• Hours before the tragedy.

Had you not gotten yourself wounded in the process, perhaps things would’ve been different. The possibility never ceases to torment you. There had been other factors, you were more than aware, but you still feel guilty about it.

Specially when you see him so distressed. And seemingly avoiding you.

“General, may I have a word with you?”, you finally manage to have a moment alone with him.

Anakin, lost in deep contemplations, already his aura fuming darkness, stops abruptly. Noticing you, he looks distant to you—unreachable even, much to your consternation.

When inferring the pain that never reached your tongue, Anakin softens. Nonetheless, he remains at what he judges to be a safe distance for you.

“Y/N, the Chancellor waits for me.”

“It won’t take a minute”, you insist.

Already seeing behind your eyes the urge in your heart, the Jedi is baffled by how every piece of you mirrors himself. A comfort, but also an aching for which there is no healing.

No, he cannot prove you like this.

Yet, before he knows, your tongue breaks loose.

“I love you. Don’t…go.”

When he reacts in bewilderment, your heart falls. You struggle to remain calm, but a wave is about to crush you.

Anakin wants to scream “I love you too”. He wishes to hold you in his arms, to kiss you fervently, to make love with you all night.

He wants to say “I love you too”.

He wants to make you his wife.

But… he won’t.

***

• The Order 66.

You stare through the window. From the emptiest quarters, silence embraces your pain, providing you some new odd sort of home.

Your reason so far holds the reins of the disruption that attacks your heart like a fever, the symptom of a diseases against which your body struggles.

Night rises and so comes the darkness. Memories are the worst type of phantom one must deal with. How can you exorcise it? How, when he walked away, leaving you bleeding, abandoned to hopelessness?

It’s been days since he parted, taking some piece of you. Numbed by it, you occupied yourself enough to avoid such thoughts.

You decide to leave your quarters. The corridors scream silently at you.

“I have a bad feeling about this”, you whisper.

Accused by inner demons for feeding illusions to your hungry heart, you shake them off as you grip tight your saber and step through the poorly illuminated room.

You hear the sound of blasters. You prepare to join a fight that transmits the sound of defeat.

“Why’d you have to twist the knife? Well, now I am prepared to hold it against me”, you think bitterly aloud.

It’s when a tear rolls down. Not much later, General Skywalker meets you. However, he is not the same Jedi you once knew…

***

• The Rise of the Dark Side •

“You are in suffering”, Lord Vader muses.

There is so much to be said, but none leaves your mind.

“Put an end to it”, it’s all you can say. “Do it and we’ll both be at peace with it.”

“Never took you for drama”, he retorts, but you swear there is some amusement behind his yellow eyes.

“Judge what you must.” And then of course, it comes the inevitable burst. “Why did you make me want to you? Why did you have to leave me behind like that?”

Looking disconcerted at you, it’s the first time you make him speechless.

“Y/N”, he slowly steps forward.

“I was yours!”, you don’t realize the burst takes all of you. “But you were never mine! Never…”

“Repressing your sentiments like that only leads to the inevitable path you are now”, Vader moves subtly to where you are. “Come with me, Y/N. Together, we can rule the galaxy together.”

“I’ve never cared about power”, you snort in between sobs.

He is silent, but his moves speak louder than any words. This Sith Lord holds you against him, though from behind he rests his hands around your waist.

Breathing your perfume, he knows there is no need to fight anymore. Your pain is now his.

“Don’t go”, Vader begs softly. “Say you are coming, Y/N.”

You slowly turn at him. His darkness tempts you, you are so tired of hurting… he cups your face with both his hands, resting his forehead against yours.

“I was always yours”, so he says. “I am not going anywhere. Not anymore.”

“You better don’t.”

This Sith Lord smiles. Your loyalty to him, whoever he is now, remains unchanged.

“I love you”.

Saying so, he doesn’t wait for your response. And just like that, in that forgotten quarters, Vader wants to compensate for the time wasted.

He pursuits your lips, now holding you as if he fears you’d change your mind, prompted to resist him—like others did. But you are too tired to fight anyway, and your heart has always been his.

You kiss him back, diving in deep waters. Your tongue dances perfectly with his, and there is strangely a balance with you two. As his arms involve you in a tender embrace, your hands climb from his chest to his face, moving to his hair, where your fingers are wrapped around his curls.

“I want you so bad”, Vader groans under his breath, his own hands famine for your body; quickly finding ways to unlace your robes. “How could you possible nurture the idea I was hers? Fuck her. I’m yours.”

You throw your head to the side, under his control completely.

“You never assured me otherwise”, you respond him in between soft whimpers as his tongue is now dancing circles in your neck. “Holy Maker!”

“Yes? Give in to me, my darling”, Vader moans softly, leading the way to bed and there lying you down.

On your elbows, you are urged to help toss him away his clothes. World outside might be plunged in darkness, but yours is burning wild on fire.

“I might do that”, you don’t protest, eyes devouring his well built muscles as your hands move from his curls to his neck, caressing his warm skin.

You would gladly go down below, but he prevents you doing so:

“Let me see if you will”, he whispers against your ear.

That way, his lips start tracing lines of kisses around your skin, slowly and teasingly. Vader smirks when hearing you soft whimpers. Very gently, indeed, he parts your legs, making sure he’s domineering you in every possible way.

Looking down at you, he sees lust gleaming behind your y/c eyes as he teases his manhood now exposed, touching lightly as it rises erect—and a smirk is fully displayed on his lips at seeing your body reacting: your nipples going hard, you trying to hold back your squirm…

“Do you like what you see, Y/N?”

“Yes, Master”, you moan. “Must you torture me thus?”

Lord Vader chuckles, pleased at your words. He leans softly against you, teasing the entrance of your feminine part with the tip of his manhood all the whilst his hands begin to play with your nipples.

He enjoys, more than he cares to admit, the lullaby he makes you sing. Vader watches as every unspoken word creates unspeakable images that he captures thanks to the use of Force. And he is sure ready to make them real.

Not long after that, as his lips reach each nipple of yours, taking quite a while at your chest, Lord Vader’s hand skillfully finds the way to you. Just like what you want him to.

By complying to your secretive desires, you are brought to such an exquisite sensation of bliss. Lord Vader makes sure to watch as you come undone—and there is no need to use the Force to ensure it happens.

Your screams are barely louder when they are shut by your lover’s lips. As he slaps your bum after you come undone—respectfully so—, Vader crawls over you and…

There.

You finally…

Have him.

“Oh Lord”, you whimper.

“Is this what you want me to do with you, my lady Sith?”, Vader growls at your hear, pleased to see how aroused you are.

“Y-Yes”, part of you doesn’t acknowledge the meaning behind his words, but the other part—perhaps a whole part, in truth—shines like a midnight sun in its glory. “Fuck, yes!”

Locking bodies with you, one moves with the other in perfect synchrony until both parts come undone.

“I love you”, and this you know is the true essence of the man you’ve come to known.

Enjoying his firm, possessive embrace, you look up at him and smile.

“I love you too.”

When seeing an unposed question behind his yellow eyes, you cup his face, peppering it with gentle kisses and saying:

“Whatever your soul is made of, mine is the same. We are not agony, perhaps not even hope, but something greater.” You lean on your elbow, eyeing him worth the purest devotion he’d ever seen. “I love you.”

Seeing you fall asleep on his chest, whilst messing with your hair, Lord Vader silently contemplates the weight of your words. He doesn’t need any Jedi, nor Sith, but you and you alone.

Having tasted the power provided by the dark side, how strange it is to be tempted by the light when he’s with you.

So the Sith Lord joins you in his sleep, peaceful for the first time in years.

#star wars #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker #imagine star wars #darth vader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #hayden christensen #Darth Vader smut #Darth Vader x female reader #Darth Vader x y/n #Darth Vader x you #Anakin smut

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infinitefolklore · 5 months

Text

Fanfic Master Post

*request a fic through Ask Me Anything*

Elucien

In The Darkness Before the Dawn, Leave a Light On

About: Elain is sent to the Mortal Lands to live with Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa to work on her Seer abilities, find a way to break Vassa's curse, and try to discover information about Koschei. Elain and Lucien are forced to live and work together, and get to know one another along the way.

Status: In Progress

Tropes/Tags: Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining, Lust, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Canon Compliant

A Little Bit of Light Reading

About: Elain is all alone at the Town House and Lucien makes a surprise appearance. They decide to "explore the mating bond," but for how long can they keep it a secret? And what happens when the Inner Circle starts meddling in their business? Note: This fic became slightly AU towards the end!

Status: Complete; 43 Chapters; 120,896 words

Tropes/Tags: Smut, Dirty Jokes, Secret Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Drama, Banter, Library Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Family Shenanigans, Sneaking Around, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fluff without Plot, Drama Llama, Fist Fights, Jealousy, Love Triangles

Little Dove

About: Human!Elain and Fox!Lucien. This is a slight canon divergence deleted scene. After Feyre is taken to Spring Court, Tamlin sends Lucien to go check on the Archeron Estate. Lucien finds Elain all alone and offers her some company. Elain discusses her upcoming betrothal to Graysen, and Lucien tries to convince her to change her mind.

Status: Complete; One Shot; 10,895 words

Tropes/Tags: Alternate Canon, Deleted Scenes, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, One Shot, Fox Mask Lucien, Flirtatious Rake Lucien, Inexperienced Elain, Flirting

Healer in the Night

About: Lucien has been away on the continent on a mission. No one has heard from him in over two months. Elain is worried. On a dark and stromy night, he shows up bloody on her doorstep. Elain nurses him back to health.

Status: Complete; 5 Chapters; 12,750 words

Tropes/Tags: Healing, Injury, Injury Recovery, Angst, Fluff, Elain takes care of Lucien, Lucien is a gentleman, And a flirt, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Mating Bond, Eventual Smut, because everyone convinces me to write smut

Meet Me On The Battlefield

About: Lucien is captured by Koschei and our poor fox boy doesn't think anyone is coming to save him. He's wrong.

Status: Complete; 6 Chapters; 12,022 words

Tropes/Tags: Dungeon, Prison, Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst, Mention of torture, blood and injuries, don't worry this will have a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Final Battle, Lucien is hopeless, Then he changes his mind, I don't want to give too much away in the tags, Lucien Vanserra-centric

Four Minutes

About: The Night Court attends a party in Dawn Court. Lucien finds out some information and turns into an absolute flirt. There's ballroom dancing, except hot. Elain can barely contain herself.

Status: Complete; 4 Chapters; 12,425 words

Tropes/Tags: Ballroom Dancing, Forced Proximity, Regency Romance, Lucien is a flirt, hot and bothered, Lust, Longing, Drinking, alcohol use, Gossip, Song Lyrics, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Teasing, Smut Obviously

Solstice Traditions

About: Lucien comes to the River House on Winter Solstice eve with another gift for Elain. He is pleasantly surprised by her reaction.

Status: Complete; 3 Chapters; 16,198 words

Tropes/Tags: Winter Solstice, holiday fluff, Gift Exchange, Cute, Fluff, Mating Bond, Smut, Honestly was not planning smut but you all asked for it, absolute filth, Elain wears lingerie

Gwynriel

Beautiful Can't Begin To Describe You

About: Azriel and Gwyn take a bath together.

Status: Complete; 1 Chapter; 5,590 words

Tropes/Tags: Smut, Fluff, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bathroom Sex, Bubble Bath

ENJOY <333

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epilogue-and-prologue · 1 year

Text

Blue Moon

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (movies) Ship/Pairing: Eomer x Reader (one mention of reader wearing a dress) Trope: Noble x Humble worker Note: IT’S SOTWK’s FAULT. We talked about Eomer’s hands and here we are. The title « Blue Moon » is a reference to the song « Blue Moon », my favourite rendition being sung by Ella Fitzgerald. Warnings: Horses? Word count: 1 595 Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

There was something hypnotising about his hands.

The way his palm moved along the planes of the horse’s back. They were delicate. Deliberate in their care for the animal. Several times today, you had caught your gaze lingering a little too long on his slender fingers and their dexterity. Several times you had wondered what they’d feel like against your skin, in your hair weaving braids during a quiet evening. Those were fairy tales. You did not dwell on them, even when it kept you up at night; heat clinging to your skin, the chilly wind doing nothing to help your wandering mind.

It seemed to appease his uneasy nature to come here. He would go in the early hours of the day, only to come back in the middle of the morning. To the outside world, he was a leader. Someone they could trust and follow into depths unknown. Here, he was only Eomer. You considered yourself lucky to have witnessed both.

Others were concerned by his willingness to spend so much more time with you instead of them. You had dismissed them easily enough, but the thought had lingered. Why was he only asking you to help him? A bucket, water, hay, a brush for the horse’s mane. You were not willing to fathom an answer, especially if it was the wrong one. Seeing him like this it made you happy enough. You were content with this, whatever this was.

From time to time, he would ask about your day and you would always answer the same things. Fine and good. Excellent, perfect or grand. Never would you have said what you wanted to say. That it was him who made those days fine, and good and excellent and perfect and grand. Until meeting him, working with horses had been your life’s dream, and you were fulfilled by it. When he was there, you weren’t so sure anymore. It felt as if all of him was completing what you had and did not know you were missing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Barely above a whisper, his question lingered in the air between the two of you, almost as if he had not meant to ask it aloud. He was still working his fingers through the hair, looking beyond the horse’s back, away from you. If he had looked at you, you could have traced a lingering hint of a pinkish hue on his cheeks.

A chilly breeze rose, and you had to tighten the cloth around your shoulder, crossing your arms close to your chest.

“Nothing important, Sire.”

A laugh echoed through the wooden box around you.

“Then why are you boring a hole in my skull with your staring?”

Your cheek felt warmer than they had been moments ago.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, sire. If you need me to go, I… — No. Stay.”

Eomer had not meant for his voice to grow this loud. Nor to turn around so abruptly. The nerves in him, electrified by your eyes, led him to act so.

It had grown almost suddenly, this affection he had for you. First, you were something to behold. Once he discovered your face, your features, the way you moved and talked, he only ever wanted you to be near him when the mask fell off. When he could be himself and not who he was supposed to be. Second, you never pressured him into talking, going silent for hours on end, just being there with him and Lia. She was not his usual horse. He preferred not to overexert Firefoot, especially after the events he had seen on the battlefields. You were the one to care for her when he could not, even before he started mounting her. The mare had a gentler temper, dark robe and larger body. She adored you and if instincts served him right, animals were always the true tellers of someone’s nature. Thirdly, and lastly, your presence calmed him like no one else could. Except when you were threatening to leave. Or when you were looking at him, behind his back. He never wanted you to stop looking at him like that. When your eyes were observing and kind on him, his weary body and his weary mind, he felt that he could take on another thousand wars just to find you here again, safe and sound, watching him. He only hoped you could say the same about him.

“As you wish, Sire.”

The goosebumps on your arms and the way you protected yourself from the cold struck him then. With the winds of winter approaching, the weather had gone incredibly cold, and you were only wearing a thin linen above your usual dress and robes. He stepped out of the box, coming closer to you as he’d ever been. He grabbed for a cover lying around. Those were used for the horses but they’d have to do. He wrapped it around you, as tight as he could. It smelled of the stables and hay. A hint of pink shattered across his cheekbones in the morning lights. Your breaths were leaving your lips in hot clouds between you. The way he settled his palms on your shoulders, securing the cloth around you, drove a whole different kind of shiver down your spine. You could feel his fingers over the fabric, his overexerted hands catching some threads, before he took them off you, gently. You could not help the sharp inhale you took when he did.

“Would not want you freezing to death on my account.”

His smile did not reach his eyes, but you felt the warmth it procured you down to your toes. At a loss for words, you smiled in return, trying to hide your face. Your arms were still secured against your chest but your heart was not as protected as you had hoped it would be.

In a thoughtless step, Eomer leaned down and brought his lips to your cheek. He could feel the burn of them under his skin. The way you looked up at him, bewildered and hopeful, brows knitted together in confusion, only made his mouth ache for more. Still, he would not do it unless you said so. He had already overstepped and behaved un-gallantly enough. Hence his surprise when he found your hands gripping at his lapel, obviously not willing to let him go. A soft curve graced his mouth, a pleasant feeling growing in him.

“Can I…?”

Your vigorous nodding let him know exactly what he wanted. Only then did he pull you closer, his hands drawing you in, the warmth you felt from his lips and the tenderness with which his fingers nestled against your jaw below your ears, enough to make you forget about the world around. Delicately, his mouth danced with yours, eager to please and swift to do so. Soon, his wide hand drew you in, pulling you at the waist. Your fingers met his heart through cloth and flesh and bones, beating in a rhythm only known to you both.

“I…”

You bit your lip while you could see him observing you through hooded eyes, his fingertips sending shivers down your arms. He was tracing the hollow of your cheek with his knuckles, leaving you breathless once more. He looked as if he had seen the most marvellous creature in the entire world. You could not believe it was you on the other end of that fantasy.

“I… do not know what to say… I… — Then you don’t need to say anything.”

His fingers found their way down the length of your throat. He looked positively charmed, yet you pulled back, hesitant. What if this had been… just a fling? Just something he could do, just because he wanted to. No other reason. No feelings involved. What if he was playing with you?

“I will. — What?”

He chuckled at your incredulous expression.

“I will say something. — Oh.”

He brought you back to him again, kissing your cheek.

“I…” He kissed your nose. “…will never…” your other cheek. “…ever…” Your fingertips now. “…let you…” This was getting on your nerves and he knew it, smirking behind your hand. “…be seen by anyone else but me, in this state.”

The last words murmured against your cheek, to the shell of your ear, elicited a burning anticipation deep in your bones.

“My King, I would never ever let anyone but me see you in this state. — I don’t think anyone had ever really seen me before you.”

His candid answer surprised you. In a tender caress, he stroked your back through the fabrics of your clothes, not thick enough to keep his touch at bay. A thumb ventured below your breast, too close to be accidental. You inhaled sharply.

“And I will never let anyone else see me like this. If you’ll have me, of course.”

His declaration hit your heart at an arrow’s speed.

“You really mean that? I’m not just a… — You’re not just anything. You are the world and beyond. You are everything. I hope to be everything to…”

Before he could finish, you pulled him down for another kiss. This one arousing and passionate; desires trapped, finally meeting in the middle.

“I will. I absolutely will.”

A heartbeat passed in his arms, trying to keep your hands to yourselves.

“You were asking me to… — … court and eventually marry you? Yes. And you said yes, you cannot take it back now.”

Your laughter rang through him as it rang through the stables, enlightening the new day ahead.

#eomer xf!reader #eomer imagine #eomer x reader #lotr imagine #one-shot #lotr fic #it's sotwk's fault #fluff

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wlwinry · 6 months

Note

could i know more of your thistlecaster thoughts/any hc’s??

YES sorry ive become insufferable about them im gonna list off everything off the top of my head

classic example of fell first/fell harder. after the breakup w zelda gorgug sorta gradually spirals into being in love w fabian but he's very much like "im not gonna put my crush on him, i'll tell him at some point but i don't wanna mess things up" and he's very...not casual but not constantly freaking out about it. meanwhile fabian gets hit by the metaphorical "in love with gorgug" bus and proceeds to be so uncool about it to the point where everyone BUT gorgug notices his crush. it's the "leans against a vending machine and breaks it" scene w mazey but 10x worse

they spar A Lot, because they're the two main melee fighters/the ones who don't rely heavily on spellcasting in combat, which means they work together on the field A Lot. as such they're very good at reading each other's body language

PDA couple alert. not to trackerbees levels there is no 69ing on the battlefield but fabian is constantly holding gorgug's hand or leaning against his side and gorgug is constantly hugging fabian from behind or resting his chin on his head. fabian is touch-starved (hallariel isn't exactly the cuddling type and bill's physical affection tends to come in random bone-cracking bursts) and just sort of melts into gorgug

he also melts into gorgug bc gorgug is very earnest and sweet and fabian "expressing genuine vulnerability is dangerous" does not know how to process this other than by becoming a ball of deeply enamored mush

you've never seen someone give as many gifts as fabian does. even if it's just smth like a coffee or tea when they meet up before classes bc fabian knows that he needs the extra energy. there's big gifts too, like the giant workshop and lab he converts one of the multiple training rooms in seacaster manor into for gorgug to artifice (state of the art, ofc), but also things like a special holster for drumsticks, pillows enchanted to maximize restful sleep, etc.

gorgug retaliates by making fabian Many Things. often accessories. several with tin flowers on them (he also makes the engagement and wedding rings, when it eventually comes to that. and it does. to me.)

fabian gets a little emotional whenever he's offered another flower

fabian is also big on terms of endearment and pet names but "darling" is very specifically never one of them. gorgug's favorite of the bunch is "flower"

gorgug loves watching fabian dance. fabian also loves watching gorgug artifice. there tends to be an admiring onlooker in their various workspaces

the hangman fully offered to throw itself into a ditch so gorgug would come fix it again if that would help fabian flirt w gorgug. fabian refused. the hangman kept asking and was only effectively stopped when reminded that gorgug owns the hangvan

speaking of the hangvan. good makeout spot.

idk i just think they're so in love and they match up so well i think about them always. fabian also goes to so many cig figs concerts with big ol glittery signs covered in hearts and gorgug is always flustered when he sees him in the crowd, much to fig's delight. when gorgug mentions wanting to write fabian a song she is immediately on board and insists he has to do it

fig needs to know details immediately and gorgug is. so bashful about giving them. meanwhile fabian WANTS to gush and riz is like ily im so happy for you i dont need to know all the details. this does eventually mean fig bugs fabian for details and fabian eagerly gives them

unlike his mother fabian knows loving someone with a human lifespan when you're going to live well beyond one means you have to treasure every single moment with them. so he does. and gorgug knows he will love him no matter what plane he's on, living or dead

i have more this is just. what i've got off the top of my head rn. thanks for letting me be completely insufferable

#d20 #thistlecaster #gorgug thistlespring #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #fantasy high #fhjy

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fairytale-poll · 10 months

Text

ROUND 2D, MATCH 1 OUT OF 8

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Once Upon a Time (in Space):

She spent decades searching every moon and planet trying to find her wife (Rose), who was kidnapped on their wedding day. Eventually, she found Rose, and they embraced, only for Rose to die in Cinder's arms. And so Cinder killed the king who had kidnapped Rose by punching through his chest and into his heart.

And then Cinder got a somewhat happy ending, in which she met Rose's clone who had Rose's memories.

Lesbian space princess who elopes with the terrifying soldier who was previously conquering her planet and spends decades searching for her when they're separated. Listen to her song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6w9V-gMgBF4

I think the way she punches the evil king through the heart as revenge for her wife is pretty neat.

She’s a revolutionary married to a woman, what’s not to love? From Cinders’ Song: “ When I was a little girl, my mother always told me / "Someday your prince will come, my love" / But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me”.

her girlfriend got cloned and most of said clones were brutally slaughtered in war and she searched for her girlfriend all throughout the galaxy and when they were finally reunited on the battlefield her girlfriend died. and a clone of her girlfriend who due to technical errors retained her memories, so does that count as the same girlfriend? theseus's girlfriend? anyway vote for cinders she's been through hell

Lesbian!! Has to search for her lost love Rose with her glass wedding ring that changes color when its near its partner!! Gets to embrace Rose once again for one final moment before the villain kills Rose right in front of her!! So Cinders kills him in return!! And she's left as (almost) the only surviving main character from her own album but!! She is eventually reunited with a clone of Rose, and while they cannot have a truly 'happy ever after' together they are the ones graced with the closest thing to it

SPACE LESBIANS (she's in love with Rose Red, who gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders searches the galaxy to find her, waiting for her white ring to turn crimson, indicating that its twin was near) She took her name from the ashes of her burning planet <3 She also killed Old King Cole >:)

shes a tragic lesbian and killed a violent dictator shes literally the best

shes gay shes traumatized she dates both rose red and sleeping beauty. badass space wanderer looking for her wife

(Her info from the wiki) the Princess of a planet burnt by King Cole's army, after it is ceded by her stepmother. She is imprisoned, meets Rose and plans to marry her. She is released by her godmother for the wedding, then flees when the attack happens, spending thirty years looking for Rose. Her half of the wedding ring will light up when she finds Rose.

"When I was a little girl, my mother always told me 'Someday your prince will come, my love' But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me I looked to the stars for you, my love" She's lesbian Cinderella IN SPACE. She fell in love with her wife in prison and they ran away to have a secret marriage but the empire kidnapped Rose on their wedding night and Cinders had to leave her behind. She searches for Rose for decades with the glass ring that guides her to its twin on her wife's finger. She finally reunites with her love after Rose rips three supersoldiers to pieces with her bare hands (hot) but then then the evil king kills Rose so Cinders fucking punches through his heart. And then a clone of Rose (who is also lesbian Sleeping Beauty IN SPACE) finds her cradling her wife's body and they have a happy reunion(?) and maybe they didn't have a happy ending BUT WHAT IF THEY HAD EACH OTHER? HUH? AAAAAH

lesbian, for one, and for two i don't really care i just think it'd be cool if she got in/if she made it past the first round

no one seems to have linked cinder’s song yet, so here [Link]

better yet, listen to the whole album too, for context and also what comes after. it slaps and also tragedy it's such a good album suhc a good band too

Someone already sent the song as propaganda, so I will provide SPOILER propaganda. [Click link to see spoilers.]

The Lunar Chronicles:

Linh Cinder:

Her glass slipper is her prosthetic foot. She's a cool badass mechanic queen. She's named Cinder because her aunt set her on fire as a toddler but she survived. She's a a cool cyborg with psychic powers, and she's also a really good mechanic.

She's a cyborg and she's from the Moon

She is a badass mechanic who is also a cyborg and did not intend to get dragged into this mess. She becomes a fugitive of the law, running from the prince who is also her romantic interest and is just objectively the best.

I love a sarcastic character and I love a good confrontation scene and she's great with both

she's a cyborg she's a mechanic she's a princess she's a fugitive she's the best.

She's a mechanic she's the lunar princess she has two prosthetic limbs she's supposed to be dead. Her best friend is an android who's a fangirl of her boyfriend (Kai, the emperor). Her ball was actually her showing up to keep Kai from getting seduced by her aunt (who's queen of the moon) and then killed. Instead of losing her slipper she just lost her entire foot. (That's all just in the first book.)

look man, if you've read tlc you know why but if not: cinder here goes through a lot, from living in a shitty household to leading a rebellion and witnessing what's practically a massacre (TWICE), getting stabbed in the mc'freaking heart and surviving, being a wanted fugitive, Oh, and also, she loses her goddamn FOOT instead of a glass slipper lol (albeit the foot is a prosthetic, which i might've forgotten to add, her left arm and (i think) leg are metal due to getting BURNED as a toddler by her somewhat power hungry aunt)

She's SO cool she's a mechanic and really clever and also an amputee and her prosthetics are very cool and she has fun space adventures with her little gang of found family and is also the heir to the crown on the moon and is trying to get control of it from her aunt (who's a dictator) so she can help the moon people be less oppressed! tl;dr she's a girlboss

She literally got set on fire. Shes a cyborg. Shes such a girl boss that her love interest kept her severed prosthetic foot as a memento. She is a revolutionary [against her will] and a politician [also against her will]. Shes a skilled mechanic, and called the queen of a super-powerful alien race with the ability to manipulate people’s perceptions of reality ugly TO HER FACE. Queen does not give a shit and just wants to hang out with her robot bestie and her dork ass boyfriend who is also the leader of an entire country. Shes iconic, she is the moment.

she's a teenage cyborg who works as a mechanic and is secretly royalty - a badass and i love her!!

Kickbutt cyborg Cinderella princess

Cyborg and mechanic is a fun new twist on classic Cinderella! (At least when I read it and it was new). Plus she’s got her Prince/Emperor all wrapped around her fingers before the ball!

she's cool as fuck that's why!! cyborg cinderella in a cool-ass future sci-fi world, she doesn't have glass slippers so she loses her ill-fitted cybernetic foot, she has a gun in her cyborg hand (mostly uses nonlethal projectiles), she has cool sci-fi magic mind powers, she's from the moon, she's a mechanic & she's smart as hell, she literally forms a ragtag team of other fairytale inspired characters & dethrones the evil queen of the lunar monarchy. also her prince charming is cool & funny & they're so sickeningly in love their feelings could power the sun. anyway vote Cinder ✨️

cinder is a mixed cyborg mechanic who has acquired beef with both her stepmother (adopted) and her bio aunt (tyrant queen levanna) and manages to escape their attempts to keep her down (including arson when she was like. 3 years old) and ultimately overthrows her aunt in a revolution lead by her and the other fairytale retellings (red riding hood and wolf, rapunzel and her ‘prince’, and her cousin snow white and her prince) and establishes a democracy! i enjoyed the series growing up and i personally think that cinder is very cool :]

The first book in The Lunar Chronicles is a retelling of cinderella, and my gosh it’s amazing. Cinder is a cyborg and faces a lot of prejudice, and it’s interesting to see that even in the future, where the book is set, there’s still so much discrimination, and Cinder faces it so well. She’s smart and snarky, and has such character growth and cares so much and akhjfqwthbj

shes cinderella if cinderella was a cyborg and also secretly an alien moon princess. fucking amazing series everyone should read it. It's very common for Cinderella retelling that "girlboss" her end up sending the weird message that victims of abuse should simply stand up for themselves <3 I really like Cinder because she's spunky and snaps at her stepmother, but it doesn't. do her any good? It just makes her stepmother worse. Also one of her stepsisters is nice, I love Peony.

Cyborg Cinderella, long-lost princess of the moon, revolutionary against the evil queen.

she’s a cyborg! instead of losing her shoe on the steps of the palace her entire foot comes off 👍 thats hard as fuck she’s so cool

I have to say this now, because I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to share this story for ages now, because it’s so amazing. Not only did Marissa Meyer, author of the Lunar Chronicles and creator of Linh Cinder, start off her writing journey as a Sailor Moon fanfiction author, but I have a second-account story of how amazing and nice she is... [Click link to read the rest of it]

#cinderpoll #round 2 #round 2d #cinders #once upon a time in space #the mechanisms #linh cinder #the lunar chronicles #lunar chronicles #marissa meyer #cinderella #fairytale #poll tournament #poll bracket #character polls #polls

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sol-consort · 1 month

Note

Hello commander, I return with the ask for some crumbs of Thane in citadel dlc ideas/headcannons if he'd been there (he would've been perfect. Wouldn't he have just been perfect to join in the citadel dlc mission? I think he would've been perfect) Admiral anon out 🫡

Thane deserved to see that party and deserved the spotlights when it came to saving Shepard's ass. Who is better than a literal assassin to track you down from the shadows and swoop in all badass to make sure his siha is safe and sound. He would've been adorable at the casino, all shy and unsure under the spotlights. I love you Anon. I will name my firstborn after you.

[Fluff, romance, established relationships, Citidal DLC mission/party]

[Reader is Shepard, Gender neutral - NB!reader]

Citadel Wards: Ambush

"Siha, I came as soon as I could. Are you alright?"

Breaking out of his hospital stay mid checkup wasn't hard at all, especially after he caught hint of the fact you might be in danger. All alone with only a pistol against hundreds of enemies.

Thane was on a mission as he headed your way, heart racing, praying for the gods to protect you.

He knows you're more than capable, but he really wishes you didn't have to suffer through failed assassination attempts.

And a rather clumsy one at that too. Thane almost feels insulted.

But you're safe and he's not leaving your side anytime soon. He already left a message for Kolyat not to worry him while driving the shuttle he hijacked to your location.

It almost feels good to have a chance to pull all of his tricks again after such a long stay in the hospital with nothing to do.

In the scene where you meet him, his features visibly soften up when he looks at you. For a second, you could see the worry in his eyes. Contempt at his condition for not allowing him to be more of help to you.

"I've only a few loves left, and you are my last. Let me do what I can for you."

His hands lift up for a second before he reluctantly lets them down, clearly going for a hug hesitating and changing his mind.

You get a paragon interrupt to hug him, feel him melt against you. How long has it been since your last visit to him? Busy with preparing for the war and all, he was very understandable and content with the little time you offered him.

But now, oh you're finally here in his arms.

"I've missed you more, more than words could convey."

The hug is bittersweet, full of longing and untold fears.

You lost yourself in the war and the preparation for it, you almost forgot who you were fighting for in the first place.

The person who lost himself in you.

Thane always imagined his end to come first, for his story to end while your legend is still being written.

And he accepted it long ago, bitterly like any other pill he had to swallow.

It was just a fact of life.

All he could do was make sure he didn't leave any regrets behind.

But the idea of your life ending before him? Of the angel who guided him through a suicide mission and ensured everyone's survival to simply fall prey to some no-name assassins?

It filled him with burning rage for your enemies. Emotions he thought had died down since he gave up his previous job.

The same fire which consumed him back when he saw Kai Leng pointing a gun at you—overwhelmed his senses, twice as intense.

It's one thing for you to face soldiers nearly your equal on the battlefield.

It's another for some assassin to come and think they can best you while your guard is down during shore leave.

You were always fair in war. Assassins never are, he should know.

Gaining leverage no matter the cost.

Using every trick in the book to avoid a fight and get the upper hand before you realise they were there.

He memorised all the steps; a lifetime to perfect this song and dance of death.

Thane swore to himself not to let a single one of them reach you as long as he could still lift a gun.

Or simply weild a knife. Both were just as deadly in his grasp.

And now, standing with his arms wrapped around you so tightly, he almost feels ashamed for failing you. For not protecting you like you've always watched over him.

He doesn't voice those feelings; he never wants to worry you.

The mere soothing touch of your fingers against his face is enough to put all of the voices in his head to rest.

But you can see it in his sad eyes. You can sense the guilt in the desperate hold against your waist.

You get a renegade interrupt to kiss him, hush all of his worries away.

Everything else can wait. You'd damn the whole world if it meant you got to comfort your beloved just a moment more no matter what dangers lurked close by.

Ever since the time you kissed him during your initial hospital visit, you've been dying for the chance to do it again.

Eventually, it has to come to an end as Brooks voice sounds from your omni-tool, asking if you're still there. Warning you about the enemies heading your way.

Thane clears his throat with a smile curling in the corners of his lips. Apologising for getting distracted.

He follows after you as you investigate the car shop, a newfound determination to his steps. Knowing he will follow your lead to the end of the galaxy if you asked.

Reaching the closed gates, your attention turns to the closed shut office where they trigger to unlock them must be.

Telling Thane to step back, you raise your gun without hesitation as you aim the glass windows.

"Siha, there is another way."

His hand covers your own, gently coaxing you into lowering the gun.

Kneeling down to be on the same level as the volus hiding behind the desk, Thane asks them if they could open the gates.

He's patient as the shaking volus considers his request before clicking the button to lift the gates.

When you meet his eyes, he doesn't look smug at all, instead he seems very thankful to you for granting him this mercy of not carrying the guilt of endangering an innocent life.

Especially after all the time he has spent repenting for his past mistakes. All the innocents he has ever put in danger.

You realise how much the man in front of you has changed in the past months. The times he spent praying for forgiveness for each life he has taken, turning his own life around to be a good model for his son.

You can't help but voice your thoughts, not so subtly praising him for following his wishes for a stable, honest life with action.

The determination it must have taken, all the effort and hard work.

He brightens at your words.

"I even started paying taxes for my investments."

Now those words, he does look smug about.

☆

Citadel: Identity Theft I

Back at the safety of your apartment, Thane can be found next to the piano. One hand behind his back, another resting atop the piano cover.

Staring out the wall windows, the ones adjacent to the main entrance.

He's doing a breathing exercise when you approach him, slowly inhaling, then exhaling, in and out, in, out.

If you express worry, he reassures you that he's fairing well.

"It's you who just escaped danger. I should be asking you that instead."

He mentions how beautiful the view outside is, how it's nothing compared to his own apartment in the citadel that's more on the modest side.

Maybe he can take you there to show you after this is done, over a dinner? Kolyat is a surprisingly excellent cook, and sharing a meal with the two of you would make Thane very happy.

When it's time to discuss the next step with Liara and the group, Thane can't be picked for the vents' mission because it's hard to breathe in such a tight space.

You remember how the first time you met him was when he crawled down out of a vent.

The grim realisation of how much his health has deteriorated since sinks on you like cold water.

He makes a remark on how this mission almost takes him back down memory lane.

Infiltrating casinos to look for a target is his bread and butter–well the drell equivalent to that.

☆

Silver Coast Casino: Infiltration

"I never thought I'd actually get the chance to dress up and walk you down an aisle during this lifetime...it's always been a wishful fantasy. You look wonderful, siha."

He's wearing a very stylish suit, light breathable material.

It has a deep-ocean like shimmer when the light hits the black fabric just at the correct angle.

A thin shirt underneath, pearly white and unbuttoned down his chest.

He said it's necessary to compensate for the lack of cutouts in the suit so his skin may breath better.

Yet your eyes can't help but wander to his cleavage, even more noticeable now than his usual clothes ever showed.

If Thane had noticed your gaze, he never made a comment about it.

But he straightened his posture more, chin lifted a tad bit higher as he walked by your side ever soelegantly

Maybe he did reveal in your attention to his body.

His arm was around your waist, holding you protectively as he brought you closer to him.

You tired to tell him to just leave his hand in his pocket and let you "cling" onto it instead.

That's how humans usually do it to show statues, appear dominate, all the necessary facade to fit in with the usually casino crowd.

But he was greatly displeased with the idea of having you holding him without him returning the gesture.

He doesn't want to wear you like an accessory.

He never understood the human concept of playing things cool or acting hard to get.

Why deny his feelings and pretend he isn't over the moon at the idea of being with you in here? Why pretend you're not the most beautiful angel he has ever seen?

You could do anything to him on that red carpet, and he wouldn't protest nor shy away.

Lifting his chin between your fingers.

Be it cupping his cheek tenderly.

Giving him a sensual kiss.

He would've even kissed your hand if you wordlessly extended it to him.

The cheering crowd made him feel a bit uneasy, he isn't used to being in the spotlights or under so much attention.

Sure he infiltrated casinos, but by blending in with the background or disguising himself as one of the staff.

You'd be surprised by how easily drell are dismissed by the other species, assuming he must be the gaurd of some prideful hanar nearby.

Yet the way you held yourself so confidently, smiling and waving like it was your birthright to be under so many sparkling lights. It made Thane admire your strength even more.

Finally getting inside the casino, Brooks made a comment on how it's a good thing you brought Thane since drell-human couples are practically unheard of.

This means people will focus on the two of you rather than any suspicious activities on her end.

All of his uneasiness and hesitation fizzled out the second the mission began. Taking his role seriously and doing the job that must be done.

As you went around mingling with the crowd, he seamlessly blended in the shadows and background.

Always keeping an eye on you and staying within earshot. He made it look so easy how much he evaded attention and acted natural in such a new environment.

That's professional assassins for you.

It did amuse him a lot when you ordered the weeping heart cocktail from the bartender.

Whenever you needed him to distract a gaurd, he'd approach them and say one of the followings

"Excuse me, but would it be possible to find a quiet room for me to pray in?"

"I accidentally dipped my fingers in someone's drink, and now they're stripping to swim in the fountain."

"I'm here on behalf of the Hanar entertainment association, and I need to file a complaint on the lack of proper hydrating nourishments for my employers."

"Someone bumped into me and dropped this wallet. Can you help me return it to them?" *after searching for a while. "Oh, my mistake, I just remembered it's my own wallet, I must have had too much to drink"

"I hope you don't find this weird, human, but how can you possibly manage with just two eyelids? Don't your eyes get very dry?"

"Are you from earth? I've been there recently. It's a very beautiful planet, I'm very sorry about the recent news. Did you have any family on earth? I see..would you like to tell me about them?"

"Do you have any children? Ah good. I have a son but he doesn't have any significant other yet, I was wondering if you have any advice regarding this subject and how i may subtly push him towards finding someone?"

He thought about faking a coughing attack to try and distract the gaurd, but he decided against it for the low chance you might get worried or panic.

Also he had terrible luck in every machine he tried.

He'd just end up losing time after time so he decided against it not to drain your money.

Part of him died inside when you kept insisting on touching the fountain.

He just stood by and didn't have the heart to tell you what's it actually used for.

If you inquire about his past missions that took place in a casino, he tells you that he usually blended in with the servants and not the guests.

Find a secluded spot then quietly take security down one after one and ensure they get swept up in the chaos not to notice him slip by them.

Finally reach his target and go for the neck. The quicker the better. He wasn't looking for a fight or a confrontation, swifly making them meet their end was ideal.

It was contractual work, he always put his emotions aside during these times.

alongside his morals.

That's why this mission feels so...different in comparison to the past.

He is here because he wants to he here, rather than out of any obligation.

And dare he say, he is enjoying being your pretend date while playing dress up a bit too much.

Is it even pretend when the two of you are already together? You argue.

he can't deny that, but he'd rather take you to a proper date one day.

The two of you had never been on one, after all. despite everything you went through together, even risking death by each other's side.

Life happened too much, and too fast.

There simply wasn't time to catch up with Thane in a cafe.

Mundane things were akin to a luxury in your respective lives.

Thane found himself genuinely enjoying the art hanged around the place, the lights and decorations.

But his absolute favourite was the dancing.

Seeing you let loose and freely move even for a little while made him focus on the moment, on the few lighthearted memories he got to make today.

No matter how awful you were at it.

Memories he will surly treasure, replay whenever his mind got too muddy and clouded by the inevitable.

He was thankful for the gods to allow him this small extension on his life.

This small kindness of having just a little more time with you.

The opportunity to witness this, experience it by your side.

To get and walk you down the aisle while you looked the most beautiful he has ever seen you.

Even if it was just play-pretend on a mission.

...and a red carpet rather than an actual wedding chapel.

For the way he held you and felt about you couldn't be more true.

After the two of you enter the office only to find your target already dead, Thane can't help but have this gut feeling that something feels off here.

When you check the computer for whatever files the assassin must have forgotten to erease, he realises how clumsy this assassination attempt is.

An amateur work at best... too rushed.

How unusual. The office was guarded the whole time, what possibly could've made them leave in a hurry?

Thane looked around, there weren't any escape routes. No nearby vents, no possible second exists.

He almost voices his thoughts to you, but Brooks steps in first and talks about how this is a dead end.

Something about her feels familiar.

Yet even with a perfect memory, Thane is sure he never heard of this name or seen her face before.

Which just puzzles him even more.

The bullet wound in the corpse's chest is still fresh.

This wasn't the work of an experienced assassin who wanted to leave no trace behind, but the work of soldier in a hurry.

☆

Citadel: Identity Theft II

Back at your apartment, Thane can be found in the same spot.

Talking to him lets you know that he informed Kolyat not to wait for him during dinner tonight, wishing him a goodnight and reassuring him that he's managing fine.

Clear endearment in his voice at how much the relationship between him and his son developed, how it feels nice to have someone waiting for you home at the end of the day.

The information revealed by EDI only makes Thane feel more uneasy.

He keeps searching his memory for anything he might have missed, any small detail that could've slipped him by.

Your comment about bringing everyone along with you on the mission makes him smile.

Your determination never fails to impress him as equally as it amuses him.

☆

Citadel Archives: Escape

If you didn't pick him up for your team, then he ends up joining team Mako instead of Hammerhead.

Mostly to balance things since a sniper is already in the other team.

He enjoys listening to the bickering but doesn't participate much.

Until Tali brings Thane up to dig at Garrus for being the inferior sniper.

This really gets under Garrus's skin...plates?

He tries to get Thane into a sniper competition to see who takes out the most targets the quickest.

Thane, of course, politely declines and immediately conceads, handing him the win on a silver plate.

This just pisses off Garrus even more.

The turian starts talking about how assassins aren't even that cool, and Thane clearly doesn't have a cool face scar like him. Therefore, Garrus is the better sniper.

It keeps escalating with Tali adding fuel to the fire.

Eventually, Thane is pressured into accepting the sniper competition as both teams have already started betting credits on it.

You can affect the outcome if you take out the targets before the other person can get to them.

Garrus targets have a blue sniper dot show up on them while Thane's is green.

It is clearly cheating, and the losing team calls you out for helping, but you pull rank and remind them this is a mission; you're just doing your job.

You can either help Thane win, Garrus or leave them be.

If you leave them be, they end in a tie.

If you help Garrus win, Thane takes it in stride and admist he might be getting a bit rusty.

Garrus is full on boosting however.

If you help Thane win, he's actually surprised and very amused. He tries to remain polite and downplay his delight when Garrus loses.

"Thank you, Siha, for watching over me."

If you take Thane on your team, the competition only happens if you bring Tali or Javik with you who challenge Garrus on behalf of Thane.

Otherwise there is no one to pressure Thane into joining after he conceads.

If you bring Garrus and Thane with you, then Garrus is the one boosting about Thane to the other teams.

Saying how with two snipers, this team is overpowered and the other two teams have no chance.

If you use a sniper rifle, Garrus changes it to three.

His enthusiasm slowly infects Thane.

For a single mission, they suddenly lifelong bestfriends.

The two of them complimenting each other skills and equipment, Garrus impressed with Thane's zero hesitation methods and immense stealth. Precise and quick.

Thane in awe of Garrus endurance and how the sniper rifle feels like an extension of him rather than a seperate weapon.

The competition doesn't happen, or a very low stakes version of it happens where team mako and hammerhead suddenly unite for a second and Tali challenges Garrus.

Thane and Garrus easily sweep the competition, you can't lose or help the other team cheat because any kill you steal is counted towards your team.

Citadel: Party Aftermath

In the morning, as you stretch out in bed expecting to feel the body of your beloved next to you, you're greeted by the empty spot on the bed.

In fact, there is no sign of Thane around the house amidst all the scattered groups of your crew going about their mourning routine, nursing their hangovere, or a mix of both.

The front door to your apartment is ajar.

You step outside and see two figures standing at the far end of the hallway.

Thane and Kolyat staring out the hallway windows, enjoying the relative peacefulness of the early morning atmosphere.

A clear contrast to the chaotic mess of hangover and headaches inside your apartment.

Or, more precisely, it was just Thane enjoying the peacefulness while Kolyat scolded his father for leaving the hospital so suddenly and causing the asari doctor to freak out when she saw him break out of a window and land on top of a moving car.

Clear worry was barely masked underneath Kolyat's angry speech.

Maybe that's why Thane was in such a good mood, a rare smile gracing his lips as he gave his son his full attention, listening to his words and apologising for making him worry.

You're reminded of the first time you've seen Kolyat.

Of the first meeting between him and his father during your time at Cerberus.

They've really grown closer.

Somehow, they managed to overcome all the obstacles and difficult past they had.

Kolyat forgave his father, and Thane was grateful for being offered a second chance after everything he put his family through.

And yet, he risked it for you, his life.

A second time.

The life he just rebuilt, remade from the ground up.

You notice a plastic bag in Kolyat's hold, several pill sheets could be seen inside.

The open water bottle in Thane's hand.

His son must have came here first thing in the morning, just to deliver his father's medicine.

You give them their space, not wanting to interrupt Kolyat's lecture.

The last thing you see before going back inside is Thane pulling his son into a hug. Reassuring him that everything will be alright, his dad is right here.

Going to check with the rest of your crew and passing the hangover medd around. You gather them for breakfast.

Thane enters shortly after, you stand up from the table and go to meet him at the door.

Offering him to bring Kolyat inside, to join you and the rest for breakfast.

You've saved them a seat next to your own.

Much to the complaints and objections of other crew members who the seat next to the commander.

"Siha...I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense Thane, you're a part of this team as much everyone else here."

You step closer to the man whose extended lifespan feels nothing short of a miracle, the man you've come to love with all of your soul. If it wasn't for the war, you would spend every second you could spare with him until his last breath.

His hands feel cold against yours, his touch so familiar and full of longing.

Your eyes are full of promises when you meet his deep green ones, surrounded by abyssal darkness like the deep ocean. Promises to fight this war, to make the world a better place.

For Kolyat. You'll make sure his son gets to grow up in a safe world. That even when Thane is gone, he can entrust you to be a guardian to his son and look out for him after the fight is won.

But for now, you ask nothing more of this life than this one chance to share a meal with the two of them. Sit around a breakfast table, have a glimpse of what a normal life with Thane must have looked like in a different world.

A world where you took this for granted, calling him your husband, eating at the same table with his son everyday.

With a nod, Thane accepts.

At first Kolyat is shy and unsure at sitting next to so many people, most of them legends...and hungover.

It's endearing how much this scene reminds you of how Thane first acted at the start of the casino mission, like father like son.

But after some time, Kolyat starts opening up to others and answering their curious questions. Surprisingly, it's Grunt who is the most interested in him, continuesly asking him about sharks, and if he has seen any.

Kolyat answers that he has swam with many.

Just like that, with one simple sentence, Grunt is hooked.

The young krogan eagrly pushes James out of the seat next to Kolyat so he may claim it for his own.

The two of them clicking immediately. By the end of it, they have exchanged contact information with Grunt promising to share his secret stash of shark videos with Kolyat who turned out to be very knowledgeable about marine biology.

Thane whispers to you that his son used to have a marine life encyclopedia as a kid. It was laminated and waterproof, much like all the books produced by the hanar usually are. His son cried so much after accidentally losing during a beach visit once, so much so that a passing hanar offered to go swim down and retrieve it.

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