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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

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“ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ.” | ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴇᴜꜱ

Lord Morpheus x Deity!Reader (Goddess of Nature and Music)

summary: After being killed by Roderick Burgess during her attempts to free her husband, YN returns to Morpheus shortly after he himself reincarnated (kind of pt. 2 to »this one«)

word count: 5k oooops…?

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of the Afterlife, reincarnation, angst, but super fluff, like, seriously, this is a fluffy cloud of cotton candy, Death, Lucienne, Mervyn, and Matthew as trusty wing people

author’s note: This idea is presented to you by a comment written by @writing-fanics under my first ever Morpheus work: “we meet him again but when he’s reincarnated as Daniel Hall 👉👈 that’s my headcannon to make me happy after reading this the third time”. I could not not write this one out after I succeeded in breaking my own heart with the first fanfic for my baby 🥺 We imagine that Morpheus looks the same and has kept every memory after his reincarnation, but they have to be triggered, thank you, bye

Disclaimer: I have never read the comics (yet), and I’m still watching season one, so this is just my take on it. Please, don’t come for my head, would be much appreciated 👉🏻👈🏻 But I deliberately changed the happenings of episode 1 in order to let my baby have his vengeance. So, that’s on purpose!

;

“Okay, scenario time,” Matthew’s voice reverberated through the soothingly lit library in the Dreaming and called Lucienne and Mervyn to attention. The librarian peeked expectantly over her round glasses while Merv turned away from the stack of books to eye the flying raven cautiously. Recently, the bird had acted weirdly every time he had returned from the Waking World, and every time it had gotten more and more concerning. “What is it this time, Matthew? The beheaded ghost of Anne Boleyn?” Lucienne exchanged glances with the pumpkin head, suppressing a barely noticeable grin before cocking both eyebrows at the black bird.

Matthew groaned—he wished he hadn’t spoken a word about that incident—but flapped his wings to detangle the ends of his feathers. He still wasn’t used to those either. “Very funny,” he seethed and tickled a rumbling chuckle out of the pumpkin’s mouth. Sometimes he wished he would’ve landed in hell instead of the presence of these two buttheads who never faltered to tease him. “Anyway,” the raven continued with a warning glare out of his black eyes, “Back to my totally hypothetical scenario. Is rebirth a thing? I’m still new to this stuff. Hadn’t had the time to read through every book.” To be quite honest, Matthew hadn’t touched a single book in here, not even those which Lucienne had put on a stack on one of the tables, just for him. He hadn’t been a big reader back in his days; he should be damned if he would start with it now.

Lost in his thoughts, Matthew didn’t realize the awful silence settling over the duo in front of him. Confused, he looked from one to the other. “What have I said or done now?!” Lucienne was the first to speak up. “Why are you asking, Matthew?” Her voice was laced with earnestness, and the raven stepped from one talon to the other. “No reason?” He didn’t sound convincing, even he heard that. “Matthew,” the librarian spoke in one of her warning tones, and the bird knew he couldn’t joke around anymore. “Fine! There is this teeny-tiny portrait Morpheus is carrying around with him. Like, all the damn time. And over which he is so protective, I wasn’t allowed to take a look or even ask him who that is. But…” Again, he stepped from one toe to the other before jumping from the stack of books he had landed on. “But?” Now even Mervyn urged him with the same unnerving tone Lucienne owned. “But a few weeks ago, he forgot to put it back in his pocket, and it lay open on one of the steps. So, yeah, I took a glance. Don’t give me that look, you two would have done the same!” Lucienne stood from her chair and moved closer to him. “Stop weaseling around the point, Matthew!”

The librarian knew whose features were depicted in the locket the lord carried around ever since Lucienne had handed it over to him. The thought alone of Lord Morpheus’ still lingering pain—even though he couldn’t put it to the proper memories connected to this feeling—made her heart ache as well—especially because she had known her as closely as one could know the former Queen of the Dreaming. They had considered each other dear friends, sharing the same passion for the written word and wisdom.

“Good lord, let me take a breather! Why are you so eager all of a sudden? Sheesh.” Her patience with this creature was almost depleted, and she would have loved to just shake a bit of sense into him. Instead, the librarian was content with using threatening words. “If you are not willing to tell me right in this instance what this nonsense is about, I will shake some sense into your feathery body!” Matthew stared up at her and took a small step back, putting some distance between them, but maneuvered him closer to Mervyn, who definitely wouldn’t help him if Lucienne decided to strangle the life out of him. “Okay, Okay! I’m sure I saw her wandering around in the Waking World! Happy?”

The bomb blew up and silence once more settled over the library. Lucienne continued to stare down at the raven, face unmoving and lacking any expression, while Mervyn plopped down onto one of the chairs standing next to the long wooden table. Matthew glanced from one to the other. “Why? Who is she? Someone important? Like his queen?” A chuckle escaped him at the thought of Morpheus being married and having a loving wife somewhere hidden in this palace. But at the sight of hurt and grief on the pumpkin’s face, even the cheeky raven grew quiet.

“She was his queen, yes,” Mervyn mumbled, leaning back in the chair. “She is his queen,” Lucienne corrected him, not having accepted the cruel fate her friend had endured. Merv sighed long and deep. “Her name was YN, and she was the only being he had ever wanted.” Matthew perked up. “YN as in YN, the Goddess of Nature and Music and all that?” Both nodded simultaneously. “She was killed by the same man who had captured our lord. And you are sure you saw her? Not some mortal only resembling her?” The raven nodded without a second thought after digesting the new information and the even more depressing backstory of his boss. “I’m pretty sure. She looked… lost. And I’m sure she saw me. Not only the raven but me.” And that had unsettled him so much that he had fled every time she had found him again. Yet, Matthew always returned to keep an eye on her, unable to stay away from her because somewhere deep down, he knew she was somehow different.

Lucienne exchanged glances with Mervyn. “Is it possible then?” The pumpkin head asked the librarian without hesitation, and she nodded equally as fast. “Reincarnation? Yes. Resurrection? Possibly? Death is the expert on the latter.”

And as if she had only waited for the perfect moment, Death of the Endless appeared in the middle of the library, displeasure evident on her face.

“Who of you found it screamingly funny to mingle with a soul?”

Now it was Matthew and Mervyn who exchanged glances before turning their eyes to Lucienne. “Seems likely possible,” the raven announced before the trio moved to look to the Endless, still waiting for an answer, arms crossed in front of her chest.

;

“Why the sudden need to visit the Waking World?” Morpheus’ soft voice asked Death, an edge of curiosity to it nonetheless, blue eyes resting on the passing people who didn’t heed the Endless’ existence nor presence entirely. His sister hummed shortly, but no word left her mouth—for now. Minutes passed by just like humans passed by. They stood on this spot on the street silently, right opposite a flourishing park, facing the lush green grass, the flower bushes, the high, looming, almost ancient trees.

“Death,” he warned lowly, not feeling pleased by this game she seemed to play with him. Impatience spread in his body, letting him experience the usual unresting feeling crushing into his muscles and bones, urging him to do anything. He had learned to despise this feeling. “The locket you carry.” Her sudden turn to face him surprised even him, and a black brow arched over his eye. “What about it?” He felt rather protective over the little piece Lucienne had handed him over, and he remembered the memory rising at the gesture vividly. The agony connected to it was something he had never experienced before. But instead of fading over time, it had manifested as a brick in his soul and heart; unwavering and unstoppable as soon as it once had taken hold of him.

Death observed him closely, witnessing the change in his eyes and the emotions dancing over his face. She was sure the memories were somewhere buried in his soul, and they only had to trigger them. It surprised her he didn’t unlock any of them at the first sight of her face after Lucienne had given him the small portrait right after he was reincarnated.

“You do know who she is, do you, brother?” Morpheus furrowed his forehead in concentration, trying to understand the meaning behind this—but a conclusion was nowhere to be seen. Death seemingly caught up to his train of thought because she slowly pointed in the direction of the blooming park opposite of them without letting him out of her sight. “I hope this will answer everything,” she mumbled, watching Morpheus as he slowly turned his head to watch the greenery and people passing. It was nothing out of the ordinary to see.

Not until she stepped out of the shadow of a willow tree into the beaming sunlight.

She strolled through the grass seemingly without a care in the world, face held upwards in the direction of the warming sun, eyes closed. He somehow knew that they were of an ever-changing color, always capturing him, even after eons of being his companion as soon as he had stepped into a room she had occupied, following him with an expression he only could describe as never-ending and undying love.

Morpheus could feel how his heart ached bitterly and agonizingly at the sight of her.

He watched her fingertips dance over flowers in full bloom, tickling an even brighter color out of their petals which stretched desperately in the direction of her life-gifting touch, craving her attention, constantly repositioning to her, as if she was the compass they had searched for decades without success. As if she was the sun to the sunflower in them. But not only the flowers reacted to her; even the grass seemed more green and lush in its color.

Morpheus wasn’t able to take his eyes off her—neither physically nor mentally. Not with the deeply felt emotions crashing against the high walls around his mind like a strong and wild tide, resembling her being. She might look like the damsel in distress, but all of a sudden, the Lord of Dreams knew with shocking clarity that she was anything but the damsel in desperate need of an assisting hand. And not just that.

He knew her.

A change within him followed this realization.

He felt the moment in which every single memory returned to his soul unscathed. Morpheus could flick through them like the pages of a book, and every picture was as clear as the sky of the Waking World above his head. He could remember their wedding vividly—remembered her smile as radiant as the stars above them while they promised to protect, cherish, and love one another.

Forever.

Whatever might lay ahead of them on their path through the centuries and eons.

Both brows softly rose over the pair of eyes, always lacking something in their depths which they held once without any doubt. The spark was there again, though—Death could see it clearly, could even feel it. The stars inside the blue seas attempted to return, but the hesitation of the Endless still too powerful to let them have their way.

Morpheus watched the woman, the goddess, his wife, with growing desperation from afar, feeling agitated. His only desire was to cross the street, to put the humans in his line of sight and Death behind him, wanted to pull her into his arms after he had stopped right in front of her. He wanted to see her face, to hear her voice, to feel her soft touch which had always reminded him of water gliding over stone, of a breeze caressing through the tall-growing grass and wheat in the Dreaming, of raindrops stealing daringly kisses and touches of petals and leaves.

He wanted everything from her she once had given him without so much as a fleeting thought.

Unbeknownst to himself, the King of the Dreaming and Lord of Dreams had taken a step closer to his very own dream, not paying any attention to his sister in his back or the raven that had landed on a branch next to the goddess. His black eye observed his boss looking dumbfounded over at the woman who resembled the most beautiful blooming flower ever seen by mortals and otherworldly beings.

And though she was above the Waking World, once a ruler of the Dreaming itself, she slowly sank down in front of a little girl, a tender expression settling on her face. The girl held a dying flower in her open palms; the stem snapped off the remaining plant and looked equally as crushed as the petals. Matthew smiled—as good as possible as a bird—at the picture of her softly raising her hand and returning the flower to its once beautiful existence, making the girl giggle and smile widely. YN smiled back—Morpheus felt as if his heart missed several beats at once—before resting a finger against her lips, and the girl nodded in understanding before rushing over to her mother, showing her newest possession proudly.

She raised back to her feet, and without a glance over her shoulder, she spoke up. “You can come out, raven, whose name I still do not know.” Matthew felt exposed but followed her words and landed softly on her shoulder. “Goddess,” he mumbled, and YN chuckled gently. “Ah, I see. And there I was, wondering why you did not leave just yet. Someone told you, I suppose?” He was able to take a glimpse of her eyes, and the raven would have to lie if he told the world they weren’t as mesmerizing as Lucienne had described them to him. Nodding, the raven made himself a bit more comfortable on her shoulder—if he had to choose, he would take her shoulder over his boss’s every time. He hoped no one would ever find out about that. A heavy sigh left her parted lips. “Then you surely must know that I am of no use anymore.”

Ever since she had awoken in the Waking World, YN had tried to find a way back into the Dreaming, back home. Before her—obviously not definitively—death, she had had the powers to come and go as she had pleased, but now, all there was left was silence and coldness. She couldn’t even feel the Dreaming anymore, which only let appear one conclusion in the front of her mind, and she didn’t dare to think about it further. In the first hours and days of her awakening, she had cried enough tears to form an entirely new river—unpurposely, of course.

Matthew cocked his head and tried to stare into her eyes. “No use?! What are you talking about? I call bullshit.” YN now herself cocked her head, mirroring the raven on her shoulder what he didn’t like, but was humored nonetheless. “So, you are a funny one. That did not happen in a very long time. Usually, ravens tend to be so earnest.” The raven had to chuckle at that. “I’m unique. But stop honey-ing me, missy! Care to enlighten me why you think you are useless?”

Now, every lightness was gone from her face, eyes, and body language. He could feel her muscles tense under his talons. “I cannot return. I cannot return to the Dreaming, not even after offering my powers. I cannot feel it.” I cannot feel my home, she thought to herself before continuing. “And if I cannot feel the Dreaming, the only possible reason is…” YN couldn’t speak it out loud but had to, so she took a breath. “The only reason is that he is dead. And without him, I cannot return home.” I do not wish to return home. Because what was a never-ending existence without the one she loved more than every flower, leaf, and music tune?

Matthew raised his head slowly, looking from the profile of her breathtakingly face over to his boss, still standing there like a damn tree growing roots. He saw how Death softly nudged him in their direction, and if he had a saying in this, he would’ve shoved him like there would be no tomorrow. Instead, he himself gently nudged her jaw to make YN turn her head. “But what if he is still here?” Matthew asked at the exact moment her eyes had found the man of her dreams.

And suddenly, everything stopped. There was no movement, no breathing life, no growing life. Only stasis. Except for them. In a very long time, YN hadn’t felt this much alive, not even in the wake of her awakening a handful of months back.

Morpheus could see the movement of her lips, letting no sound escape them—the sight of it brought him back to the memory of her last breath he had been damned to only observe instead of trying to save her. But other than a century before, she didn’t lose the spark of life in her eyes, didn’t go limp, didn’t show any signs of injuries or blood consuming the fabric of her clothes before it dripped onto the grass beneath her feet.

No, she was the epitome of life, and her light fueled him with something he hadn’t felt in a very long time: Hope. Happiness. Love. And he should be damned if he didn’t get to her only because he feared that this was his very own nightmare which he had conjured himself to torture his already tortured soul. He couldn’t lose her a second time. He wouldn’t lose her a second time.

With slow steps, even though he ached to stride over to her as fast as possible, he put the grey world behind him and stepped into the green paradise he yearned to have back in his life, in the Dreaming. His realm wasn’t itself, not without its queen. The soothing calm wrapped itself around him and his mind, caressing him softly with every step he took. It resembled her touch, but he knew that her skin against his was something even more glorious and ethereal. Something divine beyond comprehension.

None of them broke the contact of their gazes; they revolved around one another like planets in the grand universe, interdependent, as if one was the source of gravity of the other. Morpheus wasn’t sure if he should reach for her, if he should let his fingertips glide up her bare arm. But she took the burden of said decision upon herself as YN reached out for him, desperation and fear written all over her beautiful face, crystal tears burning in her eyes which just changed their color from the light blue of a summer sky to the evergreen of a dark forest. He felt as if his heart stopped beating entirely the moment the tips of her fingers were able to reach the back of his hand.

Both sucked a deep breath into their lungs, and while YN’s lips softly parted in utter surprise, Morpheus’ steps faltered. Inches still separated the couple, but he slowly turned his hand under her fingertips, moving it to let his palm face upwards, to feel her touch there because he suddenly remembered particular scenes throughout their existence. He was faced with the feeling of tender touches and the feeling of home; her fingertips following and drawing the lines on his palm, always while they lay together in their shared bed during the early morning hours, before she would press a feathery kiss to it and laid his hand atop her cheek to close her eyes for only a few more minutes. He felt the adoration swirling through him, knew that he had craved those moments every morning—even after centuries, after eons of their loving routine.

And even now, after everything that had happened to both of them, Morpheus felt his heart jumping in his chest as YN let her fingers glide over the upwards-facing palm. He watched her as closely as she watched him, her touch moving over the tender skin of his wrist before they lost contact again due to the fabric parting her touches from him. The woman in front of him took a last step in the same heartbeat as he took his last step toward her, not holding back anymore.

His hands cupped her neck lovingly, his long, elegant fingers reaching to the back of her head, his thumbs tenderly brushing over the line of her jaw. In the same instance, YN had buried the fingers of her left hand into the fabric of his black coat while her right hand cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb caressing the skin above his cheekbone. Their gazes were still connected, diving into the deep seas, yearning for every emotion swimming in those dark pools.

“Morpheus.”

Her unbelieving whisper of his name—as if it was a prayer—was his downfall. Without wasting another second, another breath, another heartbeat, the Lord of Dreams bent his head and eyes closed at the mere anticipation before their lips collided in softness and loving movements. The desperation and urgency needed to wait for a different moment in the confinements of their private rooms in the Dreaming. Their passion had never been secondary, they had always heavily indulged in it, even if the timing was anything except perfect, but now, neither of them could think about something more important as the realization that this wasn’t another dream—or nightmare—that this was reality instead.

The reassurance of this fact in the form of tender kisses they shared without stopping to take a deep breath was more than enough. But even they had to part at some point—foreheads softly pressed against one another, fingers tangled in silky strands, chests fitting perfectly together, eyes still closed, savoring this existence-altering moment.

“I thought…—” YN’s voice was quiet, breathless, filled with fear and agony. She didn’t need to complete the sentence because he figured what she was trying to say. So all he did first was move his head to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I am here,” he whispered against her skin, feeling her body relax under his hands. He would never leave her again or let her leave, even if he had to fight every single creature the world had to offer. “I… I am…” YN’s mumbling almost got lost between the shake of her voice and Morpheus wrapped his arms around her, pressed a hand to the small of her back while the other buried itself in her long curls, pulling her closer to his chest, enveloping his wife in the most protective hug. “Do not apologize. There is nothing to apologize for, love. I am just glad I have gotten you back, gotten another chance to spend eternity with you. I am beyond grateful to finally have you in my arms again where you belong, my dream.” His whispering was as tender as the leaves around them, and YN felt her heart flutter like an excited bird shortly before it rose into the sky at the sound of the endearment reserved explicitly for her.

YN let her eyes fall shut, savoring the long-missed and lost feeling of his incredibly soft lips, remembering the Afterlife filled with the same sensation but different all at once. It had been insipid; a weak, dull equivalent to his counterpart in reality, and she had missed him there even more fiercely as if it would have been the case if the Afterlife hadn’t been so cruel to her soul.

Her fingers tenderly caressed through his night black strands, hearing and feeling him sigh in utter contentment. “Morpheus,” she whispered his name again, this time with her lips almost at his—already touching them with every syllable of his name. “I told you I would find you.” The corner of her mouth slowly raised at his deep but quiet chuckle, feeling his arm wrapping tighter around her, pulling her even closer to him, if that was even possible. Their eyes met again after a short but equally as lovingly, and heartwarming kiss as the ones before, and the Lord of Dreams pushed a curl behind her ear, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. YN looked up to him almost pleadingly, even though they both knew that Morpheus could never refuse anything his wife asked of him.

“Bring me home.”

;

Morpheus had his eyes closed, breathing slowly, while every sensation was heightened, beginning with the familiar heavy feeling of her head lying on his shoulder and ending with the tickling touch of YN’s fingertips following slowly and reverently the lines in his right palm. They lay like this since they returned to the Dreaming, immediately strolling through the palace and into their rooms, ignoring everyone around them, only having eyes and a place in their minds for each other.

They had to wait if they wanted to see their queen again. It was his turn now.

“What happened?”

Her voice was as soft as it usually was but held an edge of curiosity and resentment. Her fingers didn’t stop even as YN turned her head to look up into his face, and the man opened his eyes to watch her, though he felt the memory rising behind his eyes and in the front of his mind, unable to unsee it. And she had a right to know.

His hand, which had rested on her bare shoulder where he had caressed her skin with tender strokes, moved up to her head and started to brush through her hair. It had always soothed him and his mind, and he felt relief flowing through him at the realization that it was still the case. “It took a century before I was able to escape, but… I could not leave without seeking vengeance for what he did. Not to me, but you.” YN was quiet, but her eyes told him she listened intently to his every word. So he continued. “My ruby brought him immortality for the time in his possession, and it was the first thing I took back from him. I watched him starting to wither in his sleep, knowing that his dream had changed with the sensation of something happening to him. I waited until he awoke, waited until he realized it was my doing, and watched with satisfaction the moment he realized his end was coming. I promised him eternal torture and started with it myself.”

Morpheus knew that he had been cruel to this human, but he also knew that he wasn’t as cruel as he should’ve been.

YN stopped caressing his palm, and the Endless watched her face, not moving his gaze, not even as he felt her hand move upwards to cup his jawline. He slowly let his eyes fall shut only at the feeling of her thumb brushing over the skin of his cheek, leaning his face into the touch he had longed for over a century. “I really thought I could save you, my love,” she whispered and leaned her forehead against the other side of his face, nuzzling her nose against the skin of his neck. Morpheus pressed a loving kiss to her hairline. “I know, my dream.” He fell silent for a moment before speaking up again—pain audible in his voice. “Do not dare and try it again. Will you promise me that? I cannot watch you die right in front of me again. I would not survive it.”

His queen softly pushed herself up with a hand resting on his chest, right above his strong beating heart. Her eyes—morphing from an emerald green to the shades of the morning sky after the night retreated—watched him with the softest expression while she nodded, barely visible. “Will you promise me not to find yourself in situations and positions which require my unintentional sacrifice again?” A smile started to tuck at the corner of his lips, and YN gently chuckled at the sight of it. “I will promise you that, my Queen,” Morpheus smiled nonetheless up at her, covering the hand still resting over his heart with his own.

He looked down at the missing feeling of something pressing against his palm. YN seemed to notice his changing expression and looked at her bare ring finger as well. “I woke up without it,” she whispered, sadness etched into her tone at the memory of the missing ring her husband had given her. It had been the most beautiful ring ever made, decorated with two beautiful gemstones—a dark blue sapphire, reminding her of his eyes, and the other the darkest emerald ever seen because it had been the color of her eyes at their first encounter. YN didn’t know where it vanished.

He got a hold of her bare hand and pressed her fingertips onto his lips to pepper gentle kisses on them. “I will make you a new one,” he vowed with the soft tone reserved entirely for her ears.

But he didn’t need to because only a moment after the words had left his mouth, a knock interrupted their peace and tranquillity. YN was quick on her feet and crossed the grand room to open the door, facing a wide-eyed Lucienne. “My Queen,” she bowed her head, but both women searched for their hands, and YN gently squeezed her friend’s fingers. “Lucienne,” she smiled, and the librarian couldn’t contain her smile as well. “I apologize for the intrusion, but Death found something I suspect you missed.” And with that, she opened her other hand in which laid, atop a velvet piece of fabric, her missing ring. “Where…?” Her friend only shrugged gently. “She didn’t tell us.” Nodding, YN took the ring and pressed it against her chest. “Thank you, Lucienne.” Her voice was laced with joy and longing, and the librarian bowed again. “I will leave you, but don’t hesitate to visit the library. The books miss you dearly.” With that, Lucienne turned and left, and the woman closed the door again and walked back to the bed with Morpheus still atop the covers.

She opened her hand after settling back on the mattress next to him, letting him see the ring resting on her palm, and the Lord of Dreams smiled down at it. He took the delicate jewelry between his fingers and slowly pushed it back into its place, back home on her finger, so everyone could see to whom she belonged—though nobody in the Dreaming needed a reminder of that.

“Welcome home,” Morpheus mumbled, lips against lips, and enveloped his wife once again in his loving embrace to hold her as close as possible, not thinking about letting her leave his arms anytime soon.

;

Okay, so, I hate the end, but I’m really bad at writing endings naturally, so we have to deal with this one. Hope y’all enjoyed it tho :3 As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated! <3

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aphroditelovesu · 2 months

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❝𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙐𝘿𝙊𝙍𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏❞

Headcanons

🗡️ Yandere Henry VIII w/Mistress!Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

🗡️ Yandere Henry VIII/Anne Boleyn Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

🗡️ Yan!Husband Henry VIII Headcanons (Romantic)

🗡️ Yan!Parents Henry VIII/Anne Boleyn w/Son!Reader Headcanons (Platonic)

🗡️ Secretly Meeting Yan!Anne Boleyn Headcanons (Romantic)

Imagines

🗡️ Yan!Henry VIII being able to marry Mistress!Reader | Romantic

Yandere Profile

coming soon...

Love Letters

🗡️ Yandere Henry VIII w/Wife!Reader (Romantic)

🗡️ Yandere Henry VIII w/Cheat Wife!Reader (Angst)

🗡️ Yandere Catherine of Aragon (Platonic)

🗡️ Yandere Elizabeth I w/Lover Male!Reader (Romantic)

🗡️ Yandere Catherine of Aragon w/Brother!Reader (Platonic)

🗡️ Yandere Edward Seymour w/Pregnant!Reader (Romantic)

#masterlist #yandere masterlist #the tudors #yandere the tudors #yandere the tudors masterlist #the tudors masterlist #yandere au

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welldonebeca · 1 year

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i could have chosen (and yes, I would) - 2

Summary: To form an alliance with another Kingdom, your father arranges a marriage between you and James, the duke of Barnes and best friend of King Steve I of a neighbouring kingdom, and you struggle to make a relationship out of your arranged union. WC: 1.1k words Warnings: Arranged Marriage. Medieval AU. Light angst.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

You stared down at the angular gable hood waiting for as Anne pined your hair back.

“Did you tell her I won’t wear it?” you asked.

Your friend stopped and looked at you through the mirror.

“She says you will,” she pointed out, continuing. “That the round bonnet is…”

Anne’s words stopped, and you turned to her, angry.

Every day, that woman worked hard to make your life worse, as if she had a vendetta against you to make your life miserable.

“Indecent,” she finished, hissing. “To have your hair out and showing like that, like the disgraced Queen.”

You scoffed. Disgraced… the Boleyn queen was unfairly judged and cast aside, so he could marry his third wife. She had done nothing wrong.

“Please, Y/N,” she spoke softly, reaching for you and raising your chin, making you look at your face. “It’s just one more day. Before the mid-day, you’ll be married, and you’ll wear whatever hood you want.”

You looked away, not wanting to fight her in this. It was a nice hope from her, that you would have freedom after this. But would you?

How many words had you exchanged with your husband? Ten would be too many.

James could be even worse than your stepmother. Some men would physically punish their wives whenever they did something they disliked.

Still, you stayed quiet as she pined the squared bonnet on your head, pining and placing it, and you sighed before standing up.

“Alright, then,” you decided. “Let’s go before we are dragged out.”

There were rules about getting married in the church, though they mostly didn’t count with alliances. For three days Holy Days, you were supposed to go and tell the priest that you two agreed that you were going to get married, and he would ask if you had any reasons why you should be married. You didn’t have to do all of that, considering your position, but still, you did. It was to make sure there you hadn’t gotten married in secret to each other or anyone else - something weirdly easily to do.

But you hadn’t gotten married secretly to anyone, nor had he, apparently, if his priest’s letter was to be believed. So there was no reason you two wouldn’t get married.

You rode alone in your carriage up to the church. Your father and his wife were in another one, with your little brothers, and Anne was with the few servants that had been invited to the ceremony. None of your sisters had come with you and you didn’t have any friends to be your company.

Everyone, however, was waiting outside to watch it as your carriage stopped, and you quickly caught sight of your husband-to-be, looking positively bothered as he stepped to the door by your side.

“Your Royal Highness,” he mumbled, not a lot louder than the way your heart was thundering in your ears. “Good morning.”

“Your Serene Highness,” you spoke back. “Good morning.”

James guided you out of the vehicle and guided you to the door of the church, where the local priest was waiting.

“Your Highness,” he looked at you and then at your husband-to-be. “Your highness.”

You grabbed your own hands, squeezing your own fingers tightly as you tried to calm your pumping heart.

“Do you take each other in marriage?” he asked.

You breathed in deep, and before you could say it first, your husband-to-be did.

“I do.”

You turned to him, surprised, and James turned slowly to look at your face, waiting. He was beautiful but so unwelcoming.

“I do,” you answered, at last.

The Priest nodded, and reached for someone at his side, taking a bible, and you watched as James stepped up to him, placing your wedding rings on it, and you all stood quiet as the priest raised his voice in Latin, blessing them, and you turned to your side to face your husband when he picked up the smaller ring.

He raised a single hand, pushing the ring to your fourth finger on your right hand, eyes focused right on your face when you glanced up at his face.

“Now you, your highness,” the priest whispered when you didn’t first move.

You nodded, and grabbed it, propping his right hand with one of yours to keep his hand steady, and shivered at his warmth before pushing the golden ring onto his fourth finger.

The priest blessed you, at last, and raised his voice to the group around you.

“I now declare you married,” he announced loudly. “And must everyone here serve as a witness.”

It sounded more simple than it really was, didn’t it? A few words, and you were married.

You took in a deep breath, trying to relax, and looked at your side when your husband-to… well, your husband now, raised his arm to offer it to you, so you two could step inside.

Everyone followed you as you did, and James guided you to the altar step as the church filled up.

“If I take the wings of the morning and swell in the uttermost parts of the sea, ever there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me,” the priest recited, eyes focused on his book. “If I say ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me and the light about me be night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness if as light with you. For you formed my inwards part; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works, I know it very well.”

He raised his head from the little book, and then looked at the two of you.

“You may kneel,” he instructed you.

You fell onto your knees quietly and closed your eyes when a veil was slowly placed over your heads, and James looked down at your face, looking a little more relaxed than before.

“Are you alright, my lady?” he whispered.

Your eyes widened in surprised at his questions.

The only time he had even spoken to you after greeting you were to answer the priest.

“Yes, my lord,” you whispered back. “Thank you.”

Your shoulders fell as you relaxed, a little less fearful. At least he cared enough to ask about you, and that was more than you had ever expected of a husband.

The priest stared praying, and you closed your eyes, but looked right down when he reached for your left hand and gave your fingers - so small compared to his - a soft squeeze, almost as if assuring you that the worst was almost over.

You wondered how much of this he even wanted.

Just as soon as he held your hand, he dropped it, and you only realised the prayer was over when the veil was removed from over your head.

Your husband stood up, and offered you a hand to help you do the same, and you faced the priest together once more.

“I now declare you married,” he announced once more to the group. “And must everyone here serve as a witness.”

. . .

"i could have chosen you (and yes, i would)" was posted on my Patreon in October 2022 and is fully posted on my page. To read it before anyone else, consider subscribing! It's just $2 a month and it helps me a lot during these hard times.

. . .

Forever Tags: @emoryhemsworth @amythyststorm33 @shaelyn102 @yknott81 @maximofftrash @kgbrenner @thefridgeismybestie @magpiegirl80 @mogaruke @shadowhunter7 @musicalcoffeebean @megasimpleplan4ever @deemoriarty @05spn18 @malindacath @kdcollinsauthor @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @widowsfics @frozenhuntress67 @averyrogers83 @notyourtypicalrose @nerdypinupcrystal @giruvega Forever SFW tags: @newtospnfandom-blog? @thewinterhunter? @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme? @fandomlover2001? @heartislubbingdubbing Marvel forever tags: @its-daydreamer23 @random-fandom-fangirl2112 @tayrae515imagines? @indecisiondecisions? @afanofmanystuffs? @patzammit? @thevanishedillusion? @widowsfics? @alexisshoto @princess-evans-addict @dreams-of-feysand @xoxabs88xox @dragonqueen0606 @izbelross @isabelle-faith Marvel SFW tags: @daft-not-punk? @chloe-skywalker? @hadesnewpersephone @dpaccione i could have chosen you: open

#i could have chosen you series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes royal au #bucky fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you #bucky x reader imagine

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princesskiii · 1 year

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Drop some trauma headcanons for our favorite dead tudor queens >:)

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

Trauma, like bad shit crazy trauma/j, angst, ofc

↳ Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anna of Cleves, Kathryn Howard, Catherine Parr

Catherine of Aragon

☆ Mentally stable who

☆ Abandonment issues

☆ Completely believes the other queens will ditch her if she's not perfect enough

☆ Also generally fears being alone

☆ And any and all pains in her abdomen

☆ There's a common rule not to let any stomach virus reach her

☆ It got put in place after she got in a complete state of panic, believing she would die again.

☆ Can not be left in the house alone without her mind resorting to when she was imprisoned

☆ It terrifies her

Anne Boleyn

☆ The 'chaos gremlin' thing is a front

☆ She got killed for (among other things) being smart and standing her ground

☆ Continously afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing

☆ Corrected Aragon on something once, terrified to look her in the eyes for weeks

☆ Probably smartest person in the house, absolutely terrified of it

☆ Has spirals where she'll do anything the queens ask, her inobedience was another reason for her dearh

Jane Seymour

☆ Common hc, but terrified of illnesses

☆ Even the slightest headache will send her spiraling

☆ Similarly to Anne, has spirals where she'll do anything the queens ask

☆ But she'll be incredibly quiet and reserved, attempting to stay in their shadow

☆ She's extremely motherly, even if she's among the youngest

☆ She never got a chance

☆ Doesn't share om her opinion much, afraid it start a fight

Anna of Cleves

☆ Incredibly insecure

☆ She knows many people in history compliment her on her looks, but when a king says it

☆ Terrified of people sneaking up on her, even if it's any back hugs

☆ There's an unspoken rule to never even slightly startle her

☆ Incredible fear of storms too, surprisingly the reason the queens are all togheter during thunderstorms

☆ almost opposite to what the show well, shows. She's rather humble and timid. Never having any force to anything she says or does

Kathryn Howard

☆ The obvious

☆ terrified of men, to the point of having to physically stick to one of the other queens

☆ catches herself sexualizing herself

☆ Or sugarcoating her expierences, trying to make them seem fun and pleasureful instead of gruesome rape

☆ Is the youngest, does not enjoy it

☆ Always feels like she has to prove she's a well capable adult, she's 19 for god's sake

☆ The thought of even trying a relationship with anyone terrifies her

☆ Most of her memories are painful blurs to her

Catherine Parr

☆ Very similair to Jane, actually.

☆ Terrified of illnesses as well, will also spiral at the slightest headache

☆ Keeps to themselves a lot, their opinion almost had them lose their head.

☆ Apologizes to Anne almost everyday, even if they had no idea what they were doing at the time

☆ Is technically part of mom club(tm), Never got to actually be a mom to their (bio) daughter. Deals with it differently from Jane, has trouble actually being motherly

☆ Terrified of the others keeping secrets from them, or not saying anything when their being annoying or anything

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found-family-tournament · 1 year

Text

Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 16 Group 76

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

Meta Knights: Meta Knight, Axe Knight, Javelin Knight, Mace Knight, Trident Knight, Captain Vul, Sailor Waddle Dee, Blade Knight, Sword Knight

Queens from Six: Catalina (or Catherine) of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anna (or Anne) of Cleves, Katherine Howard & Catherine Parr

Submissions are still open!

Meta Knights:

they act like a rough and tumble crew but they care about each other sososomuch. esp meta knight he acts all Cool and Heartless and Lone Wolf etc etc but secretly he’s a huge softie who loves his crew so much. one time in one of the books iirc a random kid joined their crew and he was like “tch. whatever” and then the kid gets kidnapped and he immediately gets depressed and angst and goes to fight the strongest warrior in the galaxy bc he thought he wasn’t strong enough to protect his crew. in another one of those books he almost dies and ends up in a coma and the whole crew is worried sick about him. i love them all so much

this got deleted bc my phone hates me so i’m gonna be less detailed bc i don’t wanna rewrite the whole thing again but basically. they act tough but they all actually care about each other sosososmuch. meta knight esp. one time a random kid joined their crew and got kidnapped by pirates, he angsted over it then decided to summon the Stongest Fighter In The Galaxy to fight bc he wasn’t strong enough to protect his crew. one time he has a near-death experience and the whole crew is worried about him. i think vul cries at one point. these are both things that happened in the light novels btw, (@nyaagolor has a tl masterpost iirc if ur interested)

Queens from Six:

Honestly, they're not directly portrayed as found family within the musical (although I definitely think that theme is there) but a lot of fanmade content like fanfiction has them as such and I just really like their dynamic :)

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c-rainchu · 4 months

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Couples quarrels right

“Google is it gay for my girl cousin to talk about another girl at least ten times a day? Simple answers only”

Modern AU with some more in mind I might make it a fic

#six the musical #anne boleyn #anne boleyn fanart #six #catherine of aragon #six the musical fanart #art #fanart #anne boleyn angst #araleyn #Katherine howard #katherine howard fanart #Anne of Cleves #Anna of Cleves

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isabelleneville · 2 years

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What I am bitter we are not seeing with the rumours Becoming Elizabeth has ended.

Henry “MY WIFE IS THE KING’S COUSIN” Grey’s wife Frances Brandon.

Any glimpse of Anne of Cleves.

My boy Thomas Cranmer.

A reunion of Elizabeth and Kat Ashley.

More of Bella as Jane Grey as a main character and her brief reign.

Jamie Parker capturing our hearts more as John Dudley, he was one of my personal standouts.

Mary raising troops.

Elizabeth meeting Mary at the gates.

Boleyn relatives, Henry Carey and Catherine Knollys.

Robert and Elizabeth ANGST and LONGING.

Amy Robsart being the boss she is.

Robert and Elizabeth sexy times (after TS we deserve it and how dare they deprive us).

Both of Elizabeth’s arrests and incarcerations.

Robert and Elizabeth at the Tower.

William Cecil.

Some beaut one liners from Edward “I wish to take my c**ting bath” was a gift.

Philip II of Spain.

How they were going to handle the relationship of Philip and Elizabeth, was it gonna be mutual?, were they gonna go all the way?, was he gonna be obsessive and she not give in? was it going to be just really flirty?.

Mary’s pregnancies and what angle they were going to show.

Reginald Pole.

Mary Dudley/Sidney.

The other Grey sisters Catherine and Mary.

Elizabeth and her relationship with Catholic mass and Mary.

The photo shoot.

The casting choices, especially for Philip and Cecil.

A VOLTA scene with Elizabeth and Robert.

I will add more when I think of them.

#becoming elizabeth

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iamheretodomythingrip · 1 year

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So...

My brain started suggesting me to choose violence and write a OS spin off about TMoTJ.

It would give an image of how Anne's behaviour and decisions got affected by her home life.

But it would also be very fucked up.

And, worst of all, it would have Henry in it

#six musical #six fanfiction #anne boleyn #catherine of aragon #katherine howard #catherine parr #anna of cleves #jane seymour #henry the viii #help #brain why #my brain kinda got defaulted to angst when i entered the fandom

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soul-pizza · 1 year

Text

this is the only anne boleyn in soul pizza that isn’t riddled with angst❤️

#the best brit

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phoeebsbuffay · 2 years

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Imagine Padmé Amidala joins the dark side and becomes Empress of the Galaxy next to Anakin Darth Vader.

Warnings: as much as this is (obviously) an alternative universe, I carry with me Natalie Portman’s portrayal of Anne Boleyn in “The Other Boleyn Girl” for this story.

Warnings 2: light smut, unburnt Vader, angst and drama. No minors.

Warnings 3: forgot to say that we don’t have the twins here…yet?

***

Intro.

The corridor that leads to the room where meetings with the chancellor usually take place is drowned in shadows and an unusual emptiness, so uncharacteristically of the building that often receives Senators and their retinues, is perceived.

Padmé’s heart races against her chest as the only sound that is heard comes from the clicks of her heels. She holds her head high, disregarding the conflict there is in her heart.

I must do it for Anakin. This is the only way.

She had been feeling powerless before all the distress Anakin went through lately. It didn’t help that the Jedi Council has not been doing anything at all to release the weight placed on his shoulders, which only contributed to her frustration.

They don’t see him like I do. They don’t acknowledge his efforts, they got lost in themselves.

Padmé did try to give the Jedi another chance, she did try to approach the Council and talk to the members about the difficulties Anakin’s been going through, but she was instead sent away, her concerns were dismissed as unimportant business. And now she comes after the Chancellor, seeing he is the only one who could help her with Anakin.

However, to her surprise, it is not him she finds but rather the Count.

“Dooku.” Amidala exclaims, surprised. She bears in mind their last encounter and her eyes narrow at his figure.

The Count turns at the Senator in his black robes and sides a sly smirk to her.

“Senator Amidala. To what should I owe the pleasure of your company?”

***

Anakin’s distress in regards to spy the Chancellor is turning into anger. Waters once clear are now dark, hiding a phantom menace that the Council fails to see.

Except Obi-Wan, of course.

“I know there is something going on.” His Master tells him. “I understand how close you’ve become to the Chancellor and how difficult it is this task for you.”

“You don’t get it, Obi-Wan.” Anakin turns abruptly to the older male with a mix of disappointment, sadness and angst. There is atonement in every single word that slips of his tongue. “Of course not, how could you? When the Council expelled Ahsoka, you wouldn’t move a finger to contest it.”

Obi-Wan frowns at his former Padawan.

“Anakin, don’t let these frustrations consume you. They are only clouding your judgement for the truth as it is. Yes, the Council was wrong in how they conducted Ahsoka’s trial, but this does not mean they are wrong in something else. Master Windu…”

“Master Windu knows nothing of the sort, Master.” Anakin sighs heavily. “He is arrogant, vain and proud. He’s been misleading the Council. The Jedis are no more what they used to be.”

“Anakin, what are you saying?” Obi-Wan pales at the younger male’s speech, containing the fruits of a deep manipulation that he failed to see. To expose such a strong thinking only shows that it took years to shape it. The older male realizes he is losing his apprentice. “This is not who you are.”

“It is, Master. It has always been who I am, but you are as blind as the Council to see that. Now if you excuse me… I must leave.”

The moment Anakin turns his back home to Obi-Wan, is the very one where he’s brought to silent tears. He knows he’s disappointed his Master, that he’s hurt him, which was never his intention. Anakin knows the good intentions that lie in Obi-Wan’s heart, but would these be enough to prevent his imminent fall?

***

As soon as he is home, Anakin senses there is a difference in it than when he left to work earlier that day. He does not need to think twice of the cause from the moment Padmé comes in a rush to greet him.

She engulfs him in her arms and the scent that comes from her neck, her hair makes his mind blank. He forgets his concerns when he’s with her and the pains that had been plaguing his conscience are soothed. Anakin takes her face with his hands and kisses her passionately.

It is only when they part that he notices her looks are changed.

“My love…” Anakin muses slyly. “I’ve never seen you dressed like this before. Did you purchase new gowns in my absence? Though I must remark how gorgeous you look in green.”

She casts him a mischievous look. That day, she is wearing a distinctive hood with her hair down, and the green gown with long sleeves show far more of her skin that the Senator robes normally would. However, Anakin notices it only reinforces her confidence. And it’s driving him wild.

Padmé is pleased to see the effect she has on him. But there are urgent matters to press before Anakin has his way with her.

“My darling”, she says fondly. “I need to talk to you about a matter that has been giving great distress to me.”

As Anakin is led inside, he frowns his temple. His heart is racing loud, his mind is going too fast for his own reach with possibilities that make him anxious. Once he takes a seat at the couch and his eyes stare at Padmé, she can tell how agitated he is.

“My dearest, please calm yourself. I bring solutions to us, hear me out.” Padmé takes a seat by his side, locking hands with him. “It’s breaking my heart to see you going to your nerves every time you are out there serving the Jedis. You come back every time not only exhausted, but frustrated. It ceased to be your problem alone, it is also mine. I cannot tolerate your suffering anymore.”

She caresses his cheek and Anakin leans into her touch, eyes closing. The Jedi never before felt so understood and Padmé is content to give him the comprehension he deserves.

I’d do anything to relieve the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders for so long, my love.

Anakin, having captured her thoughts, gives a long glance at Padmé. He is puzzled by their meaning and she can tell by the confusion stamped in his face what question he is about to ask her.

“I think the Jedis have taken so much from us.” She gives his hands a squeeze. “I’ve contacted the Chancellor via a man of his trust. He promised us a better future, Anakin. One where we don’t need to live in secrecy.”

She pauses, waiting for Anakin’s reaction.

“I must speak to the Chancellor myself. I shall look for him tomorrow.” His eyes linger in Padmé’s face, soon softening due to her expectations. “My love, I appreciate all you’ve done for me. I really do. I’m just overwhelmed at the moment.”

“I know you are.” Padmé leans to rest her forehead against his. Before she knows, she’s sliding in his lap. “Let me help, Ani. We deserve better, we deserve freedom.”

As she holds his face gently with one hand, before running higher to play with his curls, she uses the other to slip to his pants. A devil smirk begins to twist in the corner of his lips.

“I take you as you are, my love.” She whispers, brushing her lips against his as her hands holds his erect manhood in between her fingers once she pulls it out of his pants. “I always did and always will.”

Anakin groans against her lips before pursuing them in a fervent, dominating kiss. Thoughts and hearts aligned into one same purpose, there is little need to conceal their true selves.

He begins to mess with her and she lets him do whatever he wants to. Her new adornments are now removed and she is finally bare before his eyes. He holds her wrists when he’s about to come undone.

As she removes his robes, he is kissing her exposed neck, tongue and hands familiarly pacing around her skin. It is only then he takes her to bed, no need to crawl this time as she is readily under his dominance.

Padmé moans in endless pleasure as he takes her intently, his thrusts deeper and faster than usually are. No sign of gentleness is seen as he pins her hands above her head, nor where he leaves bruises in her olive skin.

“Oh Maker! Yes, Anakin!”

There has never been a more indecent look she gets than when he goes down in her. Padmé never felt so powerful and tamed at the same time as he does whatever he wants to her. And that is how she messes with his face before Anakin rises and pumps into her again.

Bodies tangled and bathed in the salt of sweat, where each is possessive with the other, where she completes him and vice versa. Such a beautiful synchrony that results in a melody that echoes in their room, with only the moonlight to applaud such a performance, the unique witness that comes in secrecy through the curtains.

“I love you.” Padmé tells him, holding him close. Her dark eyes look desperately for the blue that paints his own. “I would do anything for you, my darling.”

His chest goes up and down, with Anakin’s metallic hand playing with her hair. He side smirks at her, pulling her closer against him.

“I know you would. I know you did.” He leans forward to kiss her lips softly. “I would too do everything for you. I love you more than the world itself, Padmé.”

Aligned. Like the moon and the sun in the prelude of an eclipse.

***

Obi-Wan comes after Padmé nervously. He is surprised to find her in dark blue gown, preparing a ship of her own to flee. He fears the worst, but the Jedi Master must try.

“Padmé, where are you going?”

She calmly turns at him. There is a coldness in her eyes that he hasn’t found in these irises before.

“I am going to take my place by my husband’s side, Obi-Wan. I am not leaving him, unlike you.”

“No.” Obi-Wan’s horror comes across his face. “Not you too, Padmé. You seriously cannot consider…”

“What is there to consider, Obi-Wan Kenobi?” She tilts her head. Locking her hands, Padmé walks back to where he stands, in a regal pose…fit for a queen. “Where were you when Anakin was suffering? You dare to accuse him of petulant and proud, but were the Jedis any different? The Order must be reformed, Master Kenobi. But you cannot see that because vanity has too blinded you.”

“These are not words of a Senator.” Obi-Wan protests. “You are better than this, Padmé. Don’t follow the path, I’m asking you. Anakin has fallen… I cannot afford to losing you either.”

She side smirks at him. Padmé places a hand in his left cheek and says:

“No. I am not a Senator anymore. I am your Empress now, Master Kenobi.” She pauses. “You have been a good friend despite your flaws. Consider this is a gift. Run. Live in the shadows and we will not come after you.”

The warning is given. Padmé turns her back at him, not seeing the look of hurt in her friend’s face. She enters the ship and flies to where Anakin is waiting for her.

As expected, it takes little time before they meet. Once they do, it does not feel like everything has changed at all. Her Ani is still there to hold her in his arms, to twirl her around before placing her down, to make her giggle, to kiss her passionately.

The difference is that there is little need to hide anymore. Whether as Vader or as Mr Skywalker, he is who is supposed to be.

“Did you finish with his life?” Padmé inquired after the two of them slide into the Death Star together. “He must not coexist with us, my love.”

Her husband side smirks at her.

“Palpatine is long gone with Dooku. There is no one to offer resistance to us, my darling.”

“Excellent.” Padmé smiles. “One less opposition to our rule.”

Once they enter the throne room, Vader ensures they are left alone. With no hood to conceal his features, he stays behind Padmé as his rests his hands around her waist, pulling her close.

“Indeed. Power suits you well, my Empress.”

He plants kisses in her neck before she turns at him.

“Nothing, however, is so alluring than to be by your side, my darling.” She smiles widely. “Together to be free, my Emperor.”

“Together to be free.” He agrees.

As if to seal the unspoken promise, they kiss.

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine Star Wars #alternative universe #anidala #vadala #Darth Vader x Padmé Amidala #Anakin Skywalker x Padmé Amidala #Anakin Skywalker #Darth Vader #Padmé Amidala

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