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astridthevalkyrie · 7 days

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your match is made | xavier x reader

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.” “Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—” “I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.” “Stop,” you whisper. But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

cw: fluff, like that's it that's literally it this is so fluffy

word count: 6.6k

a/n: lyric credits used in this fic: téir abhaile riú by celtic woman <- fire song btw, listen to bless your ears, it also sets the vibe of this fic very nicely tbh. jeremiah's my favorite boyfailure.

Lanterns hang from every available line in and around the town square, brightening any block lucky enough to fall under its horizon. In every corner and roadblock, there are carts littering the streets, dozens upon dozens of merchants calling out their best prices on their finest goods, all the way from fabrics stitched by the very same threads used for the royals’ robes, to common sweet chocolates that all the teenagers are purchasing in bulk to share with their friends and younger siblings. There is room to move around, but there is not a single area that is not bustling with people, either trying to purchase steamed corn from the stalls or simply enjoying the festivities with their families. And in the center of it all, the bards play with such finesse that their fingers may as well be the source of the music rather than the instruments.

Such is the celebration of lights, a celebration of the light. Of Philos, of this miracle that humanity has been gifted with. Every year without fail, the people gather in the town square to commemorate this historic occasion, and every year without fail, it is the grandest jamboree you have ever bore witness to.

“C’mon, Xavier,” Jeremiah protests out loud, “what would be the point of having the crown prince with us if he refuses to pay for our meals?”

Xavier simply shakes his head, the serene smile never leaving his face as he denies Jeremiah for the third time tonight—he clearly derives great pleasure from doing it. “I’d hate to rob you of the chance to participate in Philos’ market tonight of all nights.”

Jeremiah groans at his right, and from Xavier’s left, you giggle. It’s the same routine every single year, and at every occasion to be honest, and yet Jeremiah never stops trying to emphasize the difference in his wealth versus the royal family’s. Xavier, who you think would give his last dime to an ant if it looked hungry enough, looks like he loves refusing Jeremiah more than participating in any one of the activities tonight.

The spicy aroma of rice cakes fills your senses then, and you let out a longing sigh as you look to the stall decorated with steaming bowls on all sides. “I’m starting to get hungry too, now.”

Both of them follow your gaze, where the vendor is hurriedly turning this way and that to discuss prices and accept payments, while three of his chefs work in the back, delivering more as the demand increases. Xavier hums quietly, then takes out a small black pouch from his pocket.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat.” He holds out the bag for you to take, but before you can, Jeremiah scoffs, loudly.

“Oh, that’s sick.” He points an accusing finger at the prince. “That’s sick! If you keep playing favorites, you’re going to get betrayed when you take the throne, I hope you know. I swear I’m going to lead a revolution against you myself.”

“Do you really think my grandis knight would ever let you harm me?” Xavier shoots back, and you beam as Jeremiah rolls his eyes, snatching the pouch straight out of his fingers.

“I’ll take this, and I’m going to get two”—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—”two bowls, and I’m not sharing. Your grandis knight can split her portion with you.” With that, he stomps off in a huff, leaving Xavier with his head tilted and a confused expression on his face.

“I don’t understand. There should be enough coins for three bowls.”

“He’ll get you a bowl.” You raise your voice enough for Jeremiah to hear as he walks. “He’s very grateful that you offered your money, isn’t that right, Jermy?”

Jeremiah makes a rude gesture without even turning back to face you, and you laugh, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to follow him. If it were any other member of the royal family, they’d be getting swarmed right about now, and would likely require at least ten guards to stand around them at all times to ward people off. That is how the king and queen sit, a few blocks away from the main festival, up on a platform elevated high enough that no one could think to climb it, with Lightseekers both in front of them and on the ground, safe and observing the celebration from a distance. Philos’ crown prince is different. Xavier is out in the town with the common folk so frequently that he’s almost lost all the celebrity status his title comes with. Of course, that makes him popular in an entirely different way. The people in the market always seem happy that someone of such high status would lower himself enough to walk and talk amongst them.

His hand slips lower as the two of you go after Jeremiah, warm fingers intertwining with yours. You think little of it, reckoning he doesn’t want to get separated with so many people around. Xavier isn’t one to shy away from touch, at any rate. Once you spar with someone enough, it’s only natural to become physically comfortable with one another. He places his hands on your shoulders when he wants to guide you somewhere, bandages your cuts with his own calloused palms, presses his lips to your forehead to check whether you’re sick or not. In the face of all that, him holding your hand while running through a bustling crowd is hardly surprising.

Jeremiah is waving the pouch in the air hopelessly, trying to be noticed amongst the rest, when the vendor spots the two of you. “Xavier!” he calls happily. “Good timing, I have a fresh bowl ready just for you!”

“Unbelievable,” your chestnut-haired friend mutters under his breath, elbowing you as you laugh at his misfortune. Xavier steps closer, and you see him hold up two fingers to ask for more. When he points over, you wave to the vendor, who waves back before calling out instructions over his shoulder. In almost an instant, he has three steaming bowls filled with rice cakes ready for you to take. Your mouth almost waters at the sight.

Xavier picks up one of them to offer to you, which you take gratefully. Taking a few steps to the side to avoid crashing into anyone, the three of you find a relatively less crowded place to dig in.

Before you can take a heaping sip from the spoon, he gently takes your wrist and blows on the hot broth, meeting your eyes with a soft, concerned look. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” you remind him teasingly, but blow some air of your own onto the spoon before finally digging in. As the flavors explode inside your palate, you hold back a moan at how good it tastes.

“Miss Knight!” a high-pitched voice calls out, and you turn in time to see a tiny pink blur moving past people’s legs.

“Adelaide!” You hand your bowl to Jeremiah, who passes it to Xavier without even blinking, and kneel down to catch the blur in your arms. “Look at you, you look so pretty! I love your dress!”

The little girl’s eyes light up at the compliment. “Thank you! Miss Knight,” she bounces up and down eagerly, “I made something for you!” In her hands, she holds out a product of one of the several craft stalls set up for the children during the festival, a simple but elegant flower crown that she holds out like a grand prize. And from how your heart melts, it may as well be.

“Oh, how beautiful. Thank you so much. Would you put it on for me?” You tilt your head down, and she places it on with all the care a child of six years would have. You know you’ll have a difficult time getting it out in a while after the flowers tangle with your hair, but you don’t mind at all. Adelaide is your favorite person to visit whenever the three of you come to town, the daughter of the seamstress who makes your uniforms, and you’d do anything to see her smile the way she is now.

“You look like a princess,” she says in awe. Your cheeks warm, and you stand up, gesturing to the other two.

“Speaking of which, you remember Xavier and Jeremiah, don’t you?”

Her small hands grip your dress robes as she hides behind your legs, peeking out at them. Xavier, with both his hands occupied holding your bowl and his own, merely smiles encouragingly at her, while Jeremiah waves. “Hiya, Adelaide. Your dress looks awesome!”

From the corner of your eye, you see her face turn bright red, and right as you’re about to coo inwardly about her adorable little crush, you hear someone calling her name. All your heads turn, as an older blonde boy, out of breath, almost pushes past people in his rush to run to her.

“I told you not to run off like that! You could get lost—oh.” He stops short when he sees you, blinking as the color returns to his cheeks after his run. “H-hi there.”

“Hi, Neville.” You smile at Adelaide’s older brother, who’s almost always around when you visit. “Enjoying the celebration?”

“Definitely—I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you, I was helping Mother with her stall, a-and I didn’t know your master would give you the night off.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And the grandis knight is at the king’s side, he could hardly stay to train me on such an important night.”

“Right.” He stands with his hands on Adelaide’s shoulders, only staring, seemingly forgetting why he’s there in the first place. For a few moments, no words are said at all.

Right when you’re about to cough awkwardly, he snaps back to attention. “Um, would you like to dance?”

“She can’t,” Xavier says immediately, almost making you jump. He’s almost right behind you, looming over your shoulder and staring Neville straight in the eyes with an expression you’ve never seen on him before.

“Xavier!” The blonde bows clumsily (and unnecessarily) before straightening up, an unspoken question in his eyes. He looks between you and Xavier, and while you hadn’t been planning to agree to his request in the first place, you look at Xavier curiously as well. He’s never before dictated what you do during the celebration, whether you’re with him and Jeremiah or with some of the others in your class.

“She can’t,” he says again, a bit more softly, “she can’t, because…” He takes one glance at you, then down at the two bowls in his hand, then looks back up. “She’s already going to dance with Jeremiah.”

“What?” both you and your supposed dance partner question at the same time.

“You’ve been meaning to ask her to dance the whole night.” Xavier’s blue eyes fall on Jeremiah, with a pointed gaze. “This song is about to end, I think now is as good a time as any.”

“But I’m eating!” he whines, shaking the bowl in his hands as though to beg Xavier to take pity on him.

“I’d be happy to dance with her before Jeremiah steps in—” Neville offers, but he’s cut off by Xavier again, and this time his voice is icier, and his eyes are narrowed on Jeremiah who’s pouting at him.

“No, I think Jeremiah should do it now before it’s too late.”

Whatever message he’s trying to get across, Jeremiah clearly understands it, groaning and taking one last sip before grabbing your hand and tugging you to the main grounds. You’re only slightly irked that no one actually waited for your answer on whether you wanted to dance or not. But you’re more confused than anything else. Just a few minutes ago, both of them were fine, what could have happened so soon to make Xavier sound so cold?

“Have you really been meaning to ask me to dance all night?” you try asking, but Jeremiah only rolls his eyes.

“Please shut up. I already have to deal with His Majesty the Oblivious Idiot tonight, I can’t deal with both of you.”

“What are you talking about—”

“Miss Grandis Knight!” one of the bards, the violinist, waves to you. You’re momentarily distracted, smiling at her. It’s quite nice, if maybe a bit egotistical, to hear anyone call you what you’re trying so hard to be even when you haven’t achieved it yet. “Coming to dance?”

“I am!” you shout back cheerfully. “Give me a good one!”

She thinks for a few seconds, then makes a motion to the other musicians. Placing the violin against her collarbone delicately, she begins to pluck a familiar tune, one that has you lighting up and has the crowd cheering. Even Jeremiah grins as the two of you face each other, both of you well versed in proper dance etiquette from taking the same classes growing up.

First, he bows, mimicked by the other men in the large circle that’s formed, extending a hand to their dance partners. Then you, and the other ladies, curtsy, and with a light step you take his hand and begin the dance. The bards begin to sing the contagious melody, as you and Jeremiah step in place, back and forth, your arms extending then coming together, before he twirls you under his arm. Both of you are laughing for no real reason, perhaps aside from how frivolous this is compared to the fighting techniques you’re usually partaking in together.

The song builds, and builds, and his hands slip to your waist, helping you leap across him before he ducks his head dramatically. The violinist calls your name, pointing at you to sing the next verse. Through your giggles, your cheeks warm at the attention, but you oblige.

Swishing your dress around you, you bounce off Jeremiah, pointing at him with a flourish. “Come now and follow me down, down to the lights of Galway where—” Your eye catches Xavier’s, who’s watching you as though you’re the main event. With everyone else’s attention already on you, you’re not sure if you can possibly take any more, but something about his gaze makes your chest feel lighter, as though in this celebration of lights, the real light is the one staring at you, the one who has eyes for no one else. “There's fine sailors walking the town, and waiting to meet the ladies there!”

The bards take over the song again, yet the spell doesn’t break. As Jeremiah twirls you again and hands you off to the next man, switching dance partners easily, you beckon Xavier towards you, urging him to join.

The night is young, you try to convey to him wordlessly, and I don’t want to be without you.

He steps forward, as you switch dance partners again. While you hadn’t meant to dance in the first place, it makes you feel lightheaded in a good way. The movements you have to do are light as opposed to rough and unforgiving on your muscles, and the alternating hands on your body handle you as gently as possible instead of trying to seek out all your weak points.

Your head tilts to the side, trying to see if Xavier entered the fray or not. You’ve lost sight of him, in a different part of the circle now, and you can’t search properly without breaking the formation of the dance and ruining everyone’s fun. The next person you spin into ends up being Neville, who chuckles shyly and tells you, “Not bad, Miss Grandis Knight!”

His moves are far more stiff than Jeremiah’s, but far be it from you to judge when he hasn’t had formal training. The important thing is that he tries, and you still have fun, and besides, the song is ending now. You’re almost back to where you started in the circle, just one more spin and—

A familiar, calloused hand grazes yours, skimming down the side of your arm. You gasp at this touch, far more coarse than the others, and the only one to leave you breathless, not least because it’s accompanied by the striking blue of Xavier’s eyes.

When he extends and brings you closer, it is more than just natural. Xavier is of royal blood, it is almost as if he was born to do this. Your feet step with his without you having to look down, so familiar with his balance and pace from years and years and years of sparring together. And not even once do you break away from his piercing gaze, because you’re nervous that if you do, he might just disappear.

The song comes to an end, with a final step forward and your hands on Xavier’s chest, and everyone erupts into cheers. The noise surrounding you makes the silence between you and him all the more deafening.

As the two of you simply stare at each other, breathing in sync, one of his hands reaches up, first resting on your cheek before then making its way up to gently adjust the flower crown that had slanted on your head while you were dancing. Once he fixes it, his head tilts down, just enough that his nose brushes against yours, and a smile forms on your lips.

“I am very pleased you joined, my liege.” Your eyes shine in gratitude.

Xavier opens his mouth to respond, and that’s exactly when Jeremiah chooses to slump against his shoulder, yawning. “Oh man, I’m spent. When do we go back to the academy?”

Xavier looks mildly disgruntled. “This is going to go on for hours,” you tell him, frowning, “we can’t leave now. Besides, the fireworks will start soon.”

“Another dance?” the crown prince suggests, sliding your palm into his.

Jeremiah gives him an unimpressed look. “Give it a rest.”

Stepping past the two of them, you look at all the tables mostly occupied by children being distracted by someone painting little butterflies and stars on their faces or the tiny flutes that are passed out for them to blow into. One of the pastry vendors is handing out baked goods for free, and while you didn’t actually get any chance to eat earlier, you want to find something to actually do. You’re not tired after dancing; on the contrary, now you’re restless and brimming with energy.

“Come on,” you declare readily, taking both their hands and pulling them into the ruckus. Your boys have little choice but to come along with you. Your feet will start to ache soon too, you’re sure. But for now, while they don’t, and while the way Xavier was staring at you is still burned into your mind, you want to enjoy yourself.

Once again, his fingers tangle with yours, clinging to your hand warmly—a stark difference to Jeremiah’s, which you have to grip onto harder to make sure he doesn’t get left behind. He whines and complains the whole time, telling you he’s sore all over and that the three of you should try and beat the rush by leaving early. You’re used to this routine every year, so you’re not fazed. Nor is he serious, because even though you could physically force him to stay, Jeremiah never tries to leave until you and Xavier are good and ready.

As you run, different students in your section call out to you and Jeremiah. People are just slightly more hesitant to address Xavier directly, but you’ve never understood such a thing. The last thing he is is intimidating. Well, maybe place a sword in his hand and he becomes slightly fearsome (to everyone except you). There’s still no need to pretend that Xavier ever struts around demanding everyone show him the highest respects. He’s the furthest thing from arrogant.

It makes you feel proud, really, knowing you’ll be in the service of Philos’ greatest king.

“Xavier!” someone finally calls out. For a second, you’re thrilled, until you see who it is, and your face falls.

The title of grandis knight comes with a certain authority. Not one that you actually have yet, of course, but people respect the current holder of the position, and as his prized mentee, that respect teeters down to you most of the time.

Keyword being most.

Just a few months back, you and Lillia had been close friends. You weren’t as close to her as you were to Xavier and Jeremiah, but she was still someone you confided in. You knew a few personal things about her, and she knew a few personal things about you. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who wasn’t a guy, or your trainer, or one of the older students. Just another girl around your age training to become a Lightseeker.

But you should have realized that the respect you garnered by swearing to be the future king’s bodyguard came with a reasonable risk of betrayal as well. And yes, betrayal is a strong word. Technically, nothing happened. There is no accusation you can level at her. At least not without someone calling you hysterical, and that’s hardly needed when you’re already a woman seeking the highest position in the court, second only to the king himself.

It had come down to one night, with just you and her sitting and talking about nothing in particular, when she had leaned in and asked you something.

“So do you like anyone?”

It had been a quiet night, and the two of you had been the only ones awake, holed up in an old classroom, so you hadn’t thought any consequences could come from speaking truthfully—or at least, what you had genuinely believed to be the truth.

“Not really.” You’d shrugged, leaning back on the desk you were sitting on, putting your weight on your palms. “Most of the people in our section aren’t really my type.”

“Really?” Lillia had smiled slyly. “Not even Xavier?”

Your nose had wrinkled—not in disgust, just confusion. “Xavier? Why?”

“What do you mean? You two spend all your time together. You’re always sparring. Doesn’t romantic tension build up after something like that?”

“Maybe if we were equally matched,” you’d huffed, shaking your head, “I always beat him, I certainly don’t feel any tension. Besides, he’s going to be king. And I’m trying my best to be his grandis knight. We could never be in a relationship even if we wanted to be.”

“So you don’t have any interest in him?” she’d asked, a little more forcefully. You’d thought nothing of it at the time.

“I mean…” Your stomach had twisted a bit uncomfortably and you’d averted your gaze. “If you had a sword to my neck, if I had to choose someone…”

And it had forced you to think about it. A far off scenario, if he wasn’t going to be the king, or if you weren’t going to be the grandis knight, or maybe both. It had been difficult to see Prince Xavier as anything else, but…it wasn’t impossible. If you were both just students, or partners, or even if you worked at that bakery that he loved to frequent.

If you were just a normal person, and he was as common as everyone else, the first thing you’d thought you’d notice about him would be his eyes. It’s what you notice about him most of the time regardless. He has nice eyes. They have a sincerity in them that most people lack. And he looks at you a lot, so you would know.

He’s not bad to look at either. And he’s kind. A good leader. With a precious heart. And skilled fingers—

Blinking out of the hypnotic thoughts you’d fallen into, you’d hidden your suddenly flustered state as best you could and simply answered, “I suppose if I had to choose to love someone, I’d choose Xavier.”

And that had been that. Or so you thought. Everything had been alright, at least.

Until the next morning, when you’d walked out of your class and seen Lillia’s arms around Xavier’s neck.

For a second, it had felt like Philos stopped turning on its axis.

It wasn’t like Xavier had reciprocated. But that was only because he had been too polite to shove her away, and it would’ve been inappropriate to engage in anything further. Crown prince or not, he was still a guy, and obviously a pretty girl pressed into him in such a way would interest him.

And Lillia had caught your eye, and smiled triumphantly, as though to say well, if you don’t want him, then…

Even though you hadn’t said you didn’t want him. Well, you had said you weren’t interested, yes. But you had also told her that if someone held a blaster to your face if you didn’t cherish someone, then you would cherish Xavier. And maybe that hadn’t been a confession, but it hadn’t been you giving her permission to pursue him either. Not that she needed your permission, because it wasn’t like you had a claim on him, and it wasn’t supposed to make your chest burn that he, even for a second, looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

You hadn’t confided your weak feelings to anyone else after that.

“Hi, Lillia,” Xavier says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize until now that the three of you had approached her. “What’s this booth for?”

“Oh, it’s amazing,” she gushes, wrapping her hands around his arm and tugging. Your eye twitches. “She’s a fortuneteller. For just a few copper pieces, she’ll answer any one question you want to know about your life.”

“Really?” he asks softly, and all your gazes shift to the woman who bows her head to the prince, sitting in her chair with a purple drape over the small table in front of her. “I’m not sure what I’d want to ask.”

Lillia smirks in a way that makes you uneasy. “Well, I asked about my future partner.”

“Partner? For sparring?”

“For marrying, you dolt,” Jeremiah snorts, “c’mon, Xav, sit down and let’s see which unlucky soul gets to be queen of Philos.”

You’re nervous that he will, and you’re nervous that you won’t like the answer. Because it wouldn’t be you, you’re sure of that. And you shouldn’t want it to be you. That doesn’t mean you think he should be with her, either. What business did Lillia have pursuing Xavier, at any rate? She was training to be a Lightseeker too—but of course, the average knight did not have the same restrictions the grandis knight did—not that it matters because you have no say regardless—

But Xavier shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. My future partner will simply be…whoever the kingdom deems the loveliest of the lot.”

Your heart both inflates and deflates at his response. On one hand, you hadn’t wanted him to have his fortune read, for fear of heartbreak. On the other hand, a part of you had foolishly hoped that he would have the same option to love like everyone else did.

“You should do it,” Jeremiah nudges you with his elbow. Before you can protest, Lillia’s eyes light up.

“Oh, yes, you should! Here, come sit.”

“Um, I don’t know.” Warily, you gaze over at the fortuneteller, who merely gives you a serene smile. “Is she going to give me someone’s name?”

“No, just a description. She told me my future partner would be someone of noble descent.” Lillia beams, showing off her too-perfect teeth, and suddenly you feel inadequate. You know what she’s implying, even if Xavier doesn’t. After all, there are very few people who would match that description.

So, not wanting to seem like a coward, because the king’s sword is anything but a coward, you step forward, sitting down in the leathery chair. You’re about to reach for your pocket to take out the copper pieces, when Xavier reaches over and places them in the fortuneteller’s palm, giving you an encouraging look that makes your heart sink. Perhaps you should have listened to Jeremiah earlier and called it a night.

When the woman takes your hand, she closes her eyes, running her thumb back and forth against your calluses. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, and you try not to move a muscle. For some reason, it feels like if you so much as twitch, you’ll get the wrong answers, and you’re not even sure what the right answers are.

Her eyes open, piercing yours with a startling gaze. “Fascinating,” she murmurs, “I see three things about your lover.”

To hear that word—lover, instead of spouse or partner, makes your entire face feel hot. Lillia giggles, saying something under her breath that you don’t catch but makes you feel violent tendencies nonetheless.

“First, he is someone held in very high regard by all around him.”

Oh no.

“Second, a longsword is his weapon of choice.”

Oh no.

“And third, you have known him all your life.”

Well, she may as well have just screamed Xavier’s name at the top of her lungs.

Everyone is silent for a few seconds. There is a heavy pause in the air, because who else could she be referring to? Who else fits that exact description? All Lillia was told was she’d be with someone of noble descent, which could be at least a few people. The painful beating in your chest is onset because there is only one person that your fortune fits.

You know it, he knows it, even Jeremiah and Lillia know it.

So you do the only thing you can do. You calmly stand up, offer the fortuneteller a tight-lipped smile, and turn on your heel and run.

Behind you, a few different people call your name, though you note distinctly that Xavier isn’t one of them. After that, even if other people are still recognizing you and trying to get your attention, you can barely think straight enough to identify their voices, let alone respond. You run, out of the town square, out of the festival, out of the sight of anyone who could possibly perceive you.

You run as far as you can before your legs start aching, which, unfortunately for you, takes a long time with your endurance training. By the time you feel even a twinge resembling pain, you’ve already made it a far distance away from the celebration, near the seamstress’ shop.

With gritted teeth, you heave yourself over the fence, knowing you’re more than welcome in her garden. It’s luscious, orange and lavender chrysanthemums in the center stealing the spotlight from all the other flowers. Instead of going towards them, you curl up next to the lilies, because you already feel unremarkable enough.

It’s not that you think Xavier would be disgusted by you. The two of you are friends—but that’s exactly it, the major problem of having feelings for him. Besides the fact that you are supposed to brandish your sword in his name, you cannot like him because you’d rather die than lose your best friend. You couldn’t even say how long you’ve known him, but you do know that he’s the best part of your life. Not for anyone would you bow your head. Not for anyone would you lay your life down. You’ve observed Xavier for years and years and there is not a single other person in the royal family that you would follow into any battle, through any world, past any planet.

You groan, burying your face in between your knees. At some point in between the months Lillia first asked you about him and now, you’ve gone beyond just considering him as more than a friend. You’ve even got past having a measly crush on him.

You’re in love with Xavier, and it’s awful.

Breathing slowly, you gaze up at the night sky, where the fireworks have still not made their appearance. The wind teases the flowers around you, making them tilt a little to the left, which is oddly how you feel too. Not uprooted, but bent, just like a flower.

With a blade of grass in between your fingers, you follow the direction the flowers are blowing in, only to find yourself staring at shining ceruleans.

“Xavier!” you gasp, eyes widening with a start. You move to stand as a reflex, but he raises a single hand, and you stop.

There isn’t a single bead of sweat on his face. He is breathing a little raggedly, and his uniform is stained with some sap he must’ve not been able to avoid from the bushes on the way over. His face—well, his face is pristine as always, there isn’t a moment when the prince of Philos looks anything less than dreamy. But it’s not his features you’re gazing at, but the concerned expression upon them, directed straight at you, with caring eyes and pinched brows.

You almost want to cry just at the thought you’ve worried him.

“Are you alright?” His voice is quiet, cautious, fragile. Like you may break if he’s too forceful in his questioning.

“Yes, fine,” you reply automatically, though you suppose you now have to make up a story for why on Philos you ran away like a child, especially because he sits next to you, knees raised in the same manner as yours.

“I was merely…overwhelmed, by the crowd.” The explanation sounds weak even as your tongue speaks it, but you cannot think of any other reason for your actions. At least this is easier than the truth. Anything is easier than the truth.

For a few seconds, there is silence, and as uncomfortable as this already is, you can’t bear it. So you turn to look at him, and you realize with burning cheeks you realize he is staring right back. You don’t even think he’s looked at the blossoming flowers even once; his head seems to be fixated in your direction.

“I know you constantly score better than me,” Xavier says softly, “but I am not foolish.”

With a hesitant hand, as though he’s asking for permission, he reaches up to once again adjust the flower crown on your head. Your heart falls, and you really should’ve known better to think Xavier could not read you like an open book, especially after a fortuneteller quite literally did read you like an open book.

“I know,” he continues, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “that the people in our classes, the nobles, the folks in the marketplace, they all hold me in high regard.”

“Xavier,” you try to argue weakly, already feeling your heartbeat speed up from where this conversation is going. The thought of losing him, of losing your best friend, your prince, your everything, it is paralyzing. “Please don’t—”

“I know that my weapon of choice is a longsword.”

“Stop,” you whisper.

But he doesn’t, and he looks directly into your eyes with an open, honest sincerity written all over his face. Like this is his truth, even though it is yours. “And I know that you have known me all your life, and I feel that I have known you for even longer than that.”

Your lower lip trembles. Never once did you take him for the cruel type. There is no rule nor reasoning for this, to utterly expose your feelings even more and mock you for them, and if you sit here any longer you’re afraid you will begin to sob, and then not only will your friendship with Xavier be at risk, but your future position as well. The grandis knight cannot be weak. The grandis knight cannot shed tears for such silly matters as love.

To preserve your role, to preserve your reputation and your dignity, you make to stand, to run even farther this time, but Xavier holds your wrist before you can, tugging you back to face him. There is no cruelty in his expression, in fact there is a tenderness as though he is somehow touched by your very clear devotion to him.

His finger tilts your chin up, unwittingly making you demand a respect you don’t believe you deserve right now. His brow is pinched, as though he’s upset that you would let anyone, even him, turn you soft as a dandelion.

“I also know,” he breathes, “that this kingdom finds you incredibly lovely.”

The world seems to stop.

“As…” Xavier’s hand rests itself on your cheek, and the most beautiful smile lights up his face as he murmurs, “Do I.”

You lean in the same time he does, and faintly you hear fireworks erupt as you kiss the prince of Philos for the first time.

The world is quiet, and so, so, so loud. Blood rushes to your face and to your ears, and you ignore it by placing both your hands on his cheeks, whimpering softly at how good he tastes. Every burning feeling and sensation you’ve felt in his presence these past few months, and really, your entire life, all seem to explode in this moment. The world is blue, and white, and Xavier.

His lips move so gently against yours, once again acting as though you are fragile, but it feels good this time, the idea of being something so precious as to require care for him. His thumb rubs soft circles into your cheek, you can barely pull away from him to assure him that he can be more forceful if he wishes, more wanting, more greedy.

“Please,” he whispers against your lips, asking for what you aren’t sure, but you nod your head regardless, because you’d think you’d give him your very soul if he were to ask.

When you do pull back, he is looking at you so longingly it makes you more breathless than even dancing you did earlier. His gray-blonde hair nearly conceals his eyes, so you brush it from his face, breath hitching at his proximity. You’ve always known that he’s the apple of everyone’s eye, but you’ve never had the privilege to admire him so closely before.

“I don’t need a fortuneteller to tell me who my partner is.” Xavier rests his forehead on yours, eyes closing. “Whether it’s for sparring, or marriage, or anything else. You are the only one I want with me, through everything.”

You’re surprised you can even muster words when you shyly respond, “Likewise, my liege.”

His eyes shine, and the two of you finally look up to admire the fireworks bursting across the sky in incredible explosions of color. They pale in comparison to the eruption within you, but they are magical nonetheless, and you lean your head against his shoulder to watch.

A gentle kiss is placed on top of your head. “I know we only celebrate this once a year. It is a special time. Still…” He meets your gaze again, and the corners of his lips turn upwards. Tonight, there is only you and him now, you’re sure of it. “Would you mind terribly if we were to ignore the fireworks?”

Maybe one day you will learn to resist him. You sincerely doubt it, though.

“Not at all. But the seamstress and her kids will probably be back soon.” You place a begrudging hand on his chest, not wanting to stop him, but trying to act proper regardless. “Neville checks on the garden every night. He might see us.”

Xavier seems to consider this for a second.

“Oh well,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you again, “what a shame.”

He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, and amidst the soft glow of moonlight, you surrender to him, lost in your very own little celebration of lights.

a/n: if i had a nickel for everytime i’ve written a character x reader story where they’re at a party and they dance together but then leave to have a nice moment by themselves i’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

#love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #xavier x mc #xavier #lads #xavier fic #lads x reader #lads xavier #l&ds x reader #l&ds fic #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #valkyrie stories

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newtonsheffield · 1 month

Note

while I know all the Bridgersibs are ultimately happy for Anthony (esp now that he’s less of a hardass because he’s distracted by his beautiful wife LOL) I can’t wait to see the look of exasperation on their faces the 1000th time they’ve seen Kanthony giggle and kiss like lovesick teens on a random Tuesday afternoon. I know Eloise is the snarkiest about it at least 😆

Oh they’re super happy for Anthony. There’s such a difference in him after he tried to burn down the entire ton to be with Kate. He’s calmer, he’s more relaxed and they all love Kate. They loved her before it was certain that they’d be married. They love how she rolls her eyes and ignores Anthony. They love how she has no shame in taking a sly little dig at someone who expresses their concern and delight to find her still in England.

“Well, Lord Bridgerton and I have decided that our marriage might work best if I were to stay in England. A distant marriage isn’t suited for us I fear.”

Eloise and Francesca found themselves hiding their laughter behind their hands very poorly as the other woman gaped at Kate who seemed entirely unbothered as she sighed.

“Girls, your mother is expecting us for tea, we’d better be getting along.”

“I think you’re who I’d like to be when I grow up.” Eloise said still laughing as they made their way down the street. “You always seem to be able to get things exactly the way you want them. Anthony told me many times I couldn’t have a dog as he wouldn’t allow one in the house. I found Newton on the sofa the other day.”

Kate scoffed. “I find the trick to dealing with your brother is ignoring him and doing exactly as you mean to any way.”

They love Kate. They love that she gets so involved in their family games, they love her.

But the thing about Kate and Anthony is… they’re also Kate and Anthony.

They’re always tossing one another smiles and looks across the room and they sit after dinner with their heads bowed together giggling at something or other. Some private joke between the two of them.

It gets to be a bit much some time.

“Oh please!” Benedict groaned one night at the dinner table as Anthony grinned at his wife beside him. “No more I beg of you!”

“Yes!” Eloise hissed, “Some of us, are eating.”

“Some of us,” Anthony said easing his eyebrows, “Should be thankful that their brother hasn’t mentioned the articles I found tucked into a book calling for revolution.”

Eloise fell silent but Benedict only tutted, appealing to Kate. “Kate, I love you. You know I do. I would… fight a duel over you with Anthony if I thought you’d have me.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I doubt that.”

Anthony looked affronted, “Don’t tempt me.”

“If you’ve ever cared for me,” Benedict carried on, “Please, please go and sit at the opposite end of the table.”

Anthony scoffed, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Who are you?!” Benedict hissed, “You used to care about propriety!”

Kate gave Benedict a slow smile, winking at Anthony. “No, darling. Benedict’s right, this isn’t proper.” She turned down the table still smirking. “Violet would you swap with me?”

Violet looked a little wary but stood and took Kate’s seat so Kate was sat at the opposite end of the table from her husband, the entire family between them. She cleared her throat, talking loudly enough that they all had to hear.

“As I was saying, Darling: You look very handsome tonight.”

Anthony grinned as his siblings groaned, “You’re right Benedict. I do prefer this.”

“Yes!” Kate called out, “This is much more proper!”

“Thank you, Benedict.” Eloise sighed, “Thank you for this.”

“This isn’t exactly what I meant, obviously.”

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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look-at-the-soul · 11 months

Text

My refuge

Tommy Shelby x reader (daughter)

Request by @kpopgirlbtssvt Thank you for sharing this incredible idea around, I decided to give it a try, but I highly encourage any other writer who wants to join in because the way I approach it. Might be completely different…

I think this idea was the perfect match to celebrate K @runnning-outof-time 3K followers celebration! 🌹🌷💐🌺🌼Congratulations dear K, I adored your Tales from the Garden theme and had this visual idea of the garden…

“Daddy? I brought some tea.”

Tommy looked towards the door, where you were standing poking only your head inside his office, his heart still skipped a beat every time he heard you call him that.

“You can come in sweetheart.” He stamped his cigarette in the ashtray.

Michael sighed loudly as you interrupted their conversation, his annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.

“Frances helped me bake cookies, I hope you like it.” Y/N smile made Tommy smile as well, how could he reject you something? If his only daughter wanted him to eat a cookie, he’d eat a fucking cookie.

“Thank you love.”

Michael scoffed again, watching the interaction.

“Will you be busy for the rest of the afternoon?” You asked sweetly as your father took another sip of his tea.

“Why?”

“Because you promised we’d go riding.”

Tommy’s expression softened.

He stood up immediately, looking in Michael’s direction. “We’ll see this tomorrow.”

“What? No, Tommy I need y-”

“Michael.” Tommy warned giving his cousin a death stare, he wouldn’t repeat himself.

Turning his back at him, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket, and started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.

Michael looked annoyed at you and then at Tommy, he felt a strong dislike for the long lost daughter that suddenly appeared, making his cousin a soft, ridiculous, old man.

Michael grabbed the papers from Tommy’s desk and stormed out of the office without a word.

“He’s always angry.” You stated with a giggle, making your father chuckle.

“Let’s go my darling.” He took the remaining of his tea in one big gulp and then the cookies you baked to eat on the walk to the stables.

It was impossible to not feel calmer around you, Tommy noticed. Realizing how full of life he felt, how much he wanted to protect you.

On their way to the stables, you stopped to smell one of the bushes with pink roses. Your Dad, who was usually in a hurry, stopped on his tracks to take in the moment, wishing he could be more like you. But deep down he knew he wasn’t made to enjoy simple moments like those.

“I love your garden, I could spend all day sitting here surrounded by this beauty.”

Tommy felt constantly in awe by the things that made you smile, his mind trying to storage every moment, every word, trying to make up for the time he lost.

He stayed quiet as the two of you were riding, thinking of how much you and the woman he once loved looked alike.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting with Michael?” You asked worried. “Sorry, I thought you were free.”

“What? No, none of that, you’re my priority from now on.”

“Then why are you so quiet?”

Tommy was forced to look up at you, fighting against the lump in his throat. “You look exactly like your mother.”

Without even knowing, you had started a revolution within him, made him go back in time when he was young and carefree.

“How did you and Mum meet?” The question had been on your mind for a while, you looked in his direction with curiosity, not understanding the reason why everyone looked at your father with fear in their eyes, he was the sweetest man on earth.

Tommy took his time to think of how to elaborate a proper answer.

“I saw her at an Appleby fair, she was dancing with other girls… she was like a magnet, I couldn’t look anywhere else.” For an instant, he was back in time into that very moment.

“What happened then?” Your face lit up, moved to have this little piece of information, for years, you only knew your mum’s side of the story, now, it was time to get both.

“She asked me out to dance with her, then it started to rain heavily and the fair was canceled, we went to my caravan and I’ve never been happier,” Tommy stopped and winked at his daughter, “until you stood in my front door.”

“She always talked about you, until her very last breath.”

“I wish I could prevent her parents taking you both away from me… but when I went to France and sent her letter with no answer, eventually, I stopped writing.” A heavy sigh abandoned his body as he stopped by a tree.

In more ways than he thought, talking about your mother helped him heal a part of his heart that had been broken for a little over two decades.

You came down from the horse and saw how your father secured both next to a tree.

A tender hand came to rest to the side of your face. “I’m just so glad you found me.”

There was a bittersweet look in his eyes, you noticed.

“I made quite an entrance, fighting off the maid, telling her, no I demanded a word with you.”

Small lines appeared around his eyes. “Like the good Shelby that you’re.”

“You never doubted for a second?”

But your Dad was already shaking his head. “No way, I knew it was you in that very moment.” He admitted, in his mind images of that day playing in his mind.

He was running late that morning and as commotion was happening downstairs, he rushed with a gun ready. Even from afar, as he took in your features, he knew it was you.

“But I confirmed it when I saw the broken Black Madonna around your neck.”

You looked at him confused.

“Back then I didn’t own anything,” he explained bending one knee, “so one day I found this broken Madonna relic, it was missing the hook to attach it to the chain, so the owner of the stand gave it to me for free, I tried to fix it and gave it to your mum for one of her birthdays.”

“That’s beautiful.” You touched it, feeling your heart beat under your hand.

Saving these memories in the deepest part of your soul.

You talked for hours, Tommy had never felt more free to speak his mind, his fears , his dreams, he realized his daughter understood him at a level nobody else did. You were his blood, and the exact same image of your mother.

***

“Good morning, thank you for coming.” Tommy walked into his office not realizing the door didn’t close completely.

“Finally after canceling this bloody meeting so many times.” Michael sighed as Tommy entered the office.

“I like your enthusiasm Michael, hopefully you will still carry that around by the end, ey?”

Leaning back, Michael tilted his head, he was clearly annoyed with the delay.

“Hopefully someone won’t interrupt us this time around over a fucking cup of tea or to go and pick up wild flowers to make a crown.”

The cigarette Tommy was about to light didn’t reach his lips, as he stopped midway.

“What didya say?” Tommy squinted his eyes.

“I said I’m fucking tired of your daughter interrupting us every single time-”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N Shelby.” Tommy dragged his words slowly, leaning his palms on his desk staring deeply into his cousin’s eyes.

“I don’t know you anymore, since when you push everything to the side Tommy? This business demands your full attention an-”

“Since she showed up in my doorstep!” Tommy slammed the desk with his hand, his voice raising. “After being away from me for twenty years, it really shouldn’t be a surprise she has become my priority now.”

“Michael.” Polly tried to warn him.

But Tommy raised his hand, to let him speak.

“I just can’t stand how you immediately turn into a fucking puppy as soon as she walks into any room, her little happy bubble is fucking annoying, this is a serious business and we don’t need a child with a bouncy bow interrupting everyone fucking meeting.”

Tommy remained quiet for a few seconds, his mouth pressed in a tight line. “Are you done, Michael?”

“I mean if you want to take some time apart from the company to spend time to work on your family bond.”

As you took the last step of the staircase, you noticed the voices coming from your father’s office, it was probably your family as you noticed Polly’s voice.

Walking closer to join them and before you could reach the knob, you heard something that stopped you on your tracks.

John couldn’t hold it any longer and started laughing.

“You definitely look like a fucking puppy, you can’t deny it… as soon as you see Y/N you turn into a fucking marionette, she does whatever she wants with you.”

“She turned you into a softy, brother.” The voice of your uncle Arthur pointed.

“Sometimes I wonder what the hell is she doing in a place like this.” Michael stated in a serious tone. “She doesn’t match the Shelby energy. What if someone comes at her? Does she even know how to use a fucking gun?”

Your heart sank to the floor, listening to what they thought of you.

Then it was your aunt Ada’s voice what you heard next. “She’s just a happy girl.”

“Ada knew how to use one at her age.” Polly admitted, you saw her over the slightly open door looking into her purse.

“Little Finn knew how to shoot before he was eight.” Arthur informed them.

“She’s a weakness, Tommy,” Michael insisted, “her happy bubble will lead us all into trouble someday.”

And for the first time, you felt anger building inside your body.

“Even Charlie seems to be more keen to be part of the business.”

With an unknown courage, you pushed the heavy door and stared at each of them. Shock reflected on their faces.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to be happy, and I’m sorry for being in my little, weak bubble, but you’re probably right… I don’t belong here, I shouldn’t be a fucking Shelby.”

You didn’t waste another second to listen their answer, you turned your back at them and stormed out of the office, rushing towards the doors.

“Y/N wait!”

“Shit, how long has she been listening behind the door?” Ada asked.

“Did she really curse?” John asked shocked.

“I hope you’re fucking happy now, look at what you caused.” Tommy spat at Michael, leaving his family to go after his daughter.

But he wasn’t fast enough to go after you, when he reached the fountain, your small figure had already disappeared from his eyesight.

Looking down, he found the ribbon you always wore around your hair on the floor, about to fly away with the wind. Crounching down, he took it between his fingers, kicking himself internally at the thought of you feeling hurt.

“Get me the horse!” He barked, realizing how he wouldn’t be able to reach you by car.

You felt the way your heart was beating, uncontrollably while the tears blurred your vision. Realizing how silly you felt by thinking that you had found your place.

Being a Shelby by name wasn’t enough for them, no, you had to cut people’s eyes and be ruthless and clearly, you weren’t like that.

And you’d never be.

Your legs were burning from running, after moving aimlessly you sank down, finally letting out a sob from the deepest part of your soul.

You felt broken inside, sad because no matter what, you would never be a part of their world, you didn’t understand the family business, didn’t feel familiar with weapons, you were weak according to them.

Perhaps Michael was right after all.

Back at the house Polly scolded her son for the words he said, should mind his own business and stay away from you.

“You have to change that bloody attitude, Y/N is one sweet little child, she lost her mother.”

“She’s not a child and Charlie lost his as well and he doesn’t go trying to get Tommy’s attention all the fucking time.”

“It’s a different dynamic Michael, you can’t expect them to behave the same.” Ada interrupted him.

“Y/N and Tommy have a special bond.” Polly admitted sipping on her tea. “You can see it in his eyes… Y/N’s mother was the love of his life.”

“I don’t remember her much.” Ada expressed pouring herself some whiskey.

“I didn’t even know he had a secret relationship with her.” Arthur sighed.

“They were young and in love.” Polly explained, she had covered her nephew a couple of times from his father for not being around, lied saying she asked him to run some errands. “She was a good girl, but I never saw her again. Guess her parents moved out angry when they realized she was pregnant.”

“I can’t find her.” Tommy announced with his breath caught up in his throat and a panic look in his eyes. “Arthur, John come with me. Ada take the car around,” he clicked his fingers. “Want every single maid looking for Y/N.”

Then, he threw his cousin a death stare. “If anything happens to me daughter… you’re a death man.”

Tommy couldn’t conceive the idea of you being out on your own at night, he needed to protect you.

In his heart he made a promise to your mother the day you showed up in his house with the letter she wrote him, explaining everything; how her parents sent her away to live with an aunt in the mountains when they found out she was pregnant, they let her keep you but under the condition of being raised as a sister and not daughter.

And he was failing.

Defeated, he rode back home, trying think a plan to find you. Where would you go?

He felt desperate and frustrated, about to explode from the worry, after returning to the property finally he stopped to let someone take his horse to drink some water after spending hours looking out for you. Taking his watch from the pocket in his vest he noticed it was close to sunset now and it would get cold.

If only he could tell you how much you meant to him.

They looked for you at the stables and around Arrow House, but you were nowhere to be seen. Tommy started to feel like a lion inside a fucking cage, he needed to calm down to think where would you go, looking to his right, his eyes fixed on a bush and that gave him the hint to go and look at the garden.

Feeling his heartbeat drumming in his ears, Tommy was determined to find you so he entered the maze. He followed the herbaceous border and took a right to find the fountain, walking past the yew buttresses. Wiping the sweat from his chin, he noticed a silhouette sitting by the steps of the gazebo.

And he couldn’t feel more joy in his chest, recognizing immediately it was you.

“Y/N.” He whispered out of breath.

You were pale and didn’t answer him.

Once more, he called your name, finally getting close enough to touch you. “Wake up baby girl.”

“Daddy?” You blinked away a few times, taking in your surroundings.

“You’re so cold.” He took his coat off and wrapped it around your shoulders.

The previous events slowly coming back into your memory. You probably fell asleep after crying endlessly.

“I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to the Shelby name.”

“Oh my darling you could never disappoint me.” He rocked your body slightly, trying to warm you up with his hands. “You have more heart than anyone in that house.”

“I dreamed of Mum… she gave me a hug and a kiss and said it would all be alright, because I’ve you.”

Tommy wasn’t able to answer as the words got caught up in his throat, so he did something he rarely did.

His arms wrapped around your back and he pushed you in a tight hug.

One that was repairing him from the inside out. One that was repairing his broken heart.

“I know my girl, cause she will always be with us.” He kissed your hair and looked up in the starry night thinking of your mother and how much he had loved her. “Let’s get you home.”

From afar, Polly witnessed the interaction knowing nothing in this world would ever tear you and Tommy apart.

“But they don’t think I belong here.”

“You belong here way more than any of them, this is your house and this is your family and they’ll have to learn to accept the fact that you’re the light of my eyes.”

And your eyes lit up by your fathers words, tears of happiness making your vision go blurry.

“I ordered the gardener to create this for you, it’s not finished yet though… I wanted you to feel in this place at home.”

Slowly, you broke away the embrace to look at your father, with a tender touch, he wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes.

“This is for you.” He encouraged with a smile. “It was a surprise I was saving for later.”

Taking in your surroundings, you couldn’t believe the beautiful oasis before your eyes. You haven’t noticed before.

“Daddy!” Your hands flew to your mouth. “That’s white daffodils.”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh don’t expect me to know that.”

“These are peonies!” You were delighted. “And irises.”

Tommy saw you moving around the garden, enjoying the peace you being happy in this place brought him.

Taking you by the shoulders, he made you turn around to face the gazebo.

“I particularly love that… imagined you sitting there for hours.”

You were lost in the colors and smell, but soon you turned around to look at your father.

“Thank you for giving me this.” Your arms found their way around his body, time stood still.

“I was hoping this would be your refuge.” Tommy whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Can we join the hug?” Ada interrupted, making you both turn around.

“I’m sorry about what Michael said,” your aunt Pol apologized, “I do enjoy your cheerful energy.”

“It’s a balm to this fucking family madness.” Ada explained.

They each linked their arms around you tenderly.

“You’re a sweet child and I love you.” Arthur blushed but joined the hug as well, behind him, uncle John looked at you.

“When you came into our lives, I knew it was you the one who could make him line up.” John winked at you.

“Come on you two, don’t stay back there.” Ada shouted at Finn and Charlie, who were standing awkwardly a few steps away.

“You’re the sweetest young girl, we love you just like that, Y/N it doesn’t matter what anyone tells you, don’t let this cruel world change you an ounce.” Polly said caressing your face.

And you believed her, them.

She then looked at her nephew.

“You did a wonderful job with this place, Tommy.”

He didn’t need something like this though, since he felt like having you close, was his own kind of refuge. His safe haven.

***

Master list

A/N: Oops this got a bit long 🤭 but there were so many things I needed to add, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #polly gray #arthur shelby imagine #polly gray imagine #john shelby imagine #michael shelby imagine

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jymwahuwu · 1 year

Note

You've done yandere Tighnari and yandere Cyno.

But what about a yandere Alhaitham?

glad you asked!! 🥺 i do have an idea for this, but haven't been writing about it before - sharing my thoughts on yandere alhaitham and kaveh now (yes, i love writing about them both)

tw: yandere, non-con, kidnapping, abuse of power

"Once order is disrupted, the consequences spread like wildfire. I’d like to avoid such a scenario, so I can keep my life intact and uninterrupted."

Alhaitham took part in a revolution to replace the grand sage, resulting in Sumeru's regime returning to the God of Wisdom, and he became interim head of state (reluctantly). And all this just for his peace daily life💀 So, imagine what happens when Alhaitham finds out that you are an unstable factor in his life.

Alhaitham found that he had to spend an extra twenty minutes a day observing you, and another half hour thinking about you. (He already has all the information on you…you are very easy to understand, but also the most difficult to understand.) He doesn't like this kind of unexpected thing. Perhaps the bards in Mondstadt would have had an understanding of this ethereal experience, but everyone in Akademiya knew that Sumeru's literary studies and poetry were not popular.

He decided to solve it in a simple way. He is the acting grand sage now, in other words, the person who is actually in charge of the country's decisions, so there is no difficulty in implementing them. Here's a paperwork explaining your disappearance, you're just traveling somewhere else. Not to mention, you don't have any defenses about what you're drinking. Um, the location of the property, which he was always happy with, was indeed a problem - it was too close to Akademiya, General Mahamatra might notice you, so the soundproofing was updated.

Alhaitham is an educated, decent, civilized man, so he even asks for your opinion - and you reply with some confusion, oh, tour, if you get the chance, you can take it. You choose one of several new traps invented by Kshahrewar, say it's a nice color, you don't know it will be used to lock you later though.

At the beginning, Alhaitham just wanted to keep you at home, like bringing home those roadside pigeons, so that he could observe you at any time. He will provide you with three meals, and even generously have afternoon tea, new clothes, and books. He doesn't have any erotic thoughts. However, Kaveh changed that.

Kaveh sees you trying in vain to unlock the house. It was a strange sight. (Alhaitham allows you to do this because everyone has the right to use their intelligence.) He's shocked and confused by what happened - like, is this what he thought? His roommate locked someone up? Kaveh tries to explain to Alhaitham that it's wrong to lock someone up like this, but ends up not discussing it and living with the two of you.

Gradually, you can't help but seek comfort from Kaveh, the architect who often cares about you. He brings you some desserts and is willing to hear your complaints about Alhaitham. On the weekend, Kaveh wanted to go drink with some architect friends, but stayed home after hearing your tearful plea (“Please… please don’t go, don’t leave me at home….”)

What broke this kind of life was that one day, Kaveh held your cheeks and gave you a breathless, long forced kiss. His tongue twirled in your mouth, his long fingers rubbed against your private parts. Your struggles and panics are not fully understood. Alhaitham was flipping the pages of a book on the couch, watching you being forced to kiss and fingering…and then he pressed on to you. The sound of wet slapping and sobbing echoed loudly in the living room.

Maybe, he should try this?

#alani.answers #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #yandere kaveh #kaveh x reader #genshin impact x you #yandere alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months

Note

"this is so wrong," "if so, then stop me, love," "you tempt me, [name]-" cue a KISSSSS "-and you drive me insane." + flirty banter for bodhi maybe ?

You’re like a drug

All of his smirks and winks were always reserved for you. It only took for you to enter the room for Bodhi’s m scowl to turn upside down and you would have a grinning bobcat following your every move. The thing was you felt the attraction too. At first, you thought it was simply because both of your dragons were close in their kin but it ran deeper than that.

And you were good at keeping him at arm's length until you all had gotten slightly too tipsy by the river band. You knew it was asking for trouble the moment the idea itself bloomed. But you all had been working so hard in making progress with the revolution that it would be a shame to not celebrate it at least in some way.

“Last one to the river goes in naked”, Garrick chuckled as he took off running. Imogen let out a huff as she tried to grab his shirt to yank him backward but with no luck. “You can’t start running and then say what it’s for”, she grumbled hurrying after him. You let out a chuckle, stepping over the branch and ready to take off yourself but a hand stopped you, turning you backward.

“What the hell”, you muttered, right as your back hit the tree. “Shh…”, you didn’t need to see him. Even the slightest shine of the moonlight whispered enough of his shadow. “What are you…”, your words died down as a warm whisper of lips trailed down your neck. Your hands moved to reach for him in a heartbeat. Tensed muscles melting into a puddle.

Bodhi’s heart was drumming so loudly that he barely could hear your whispers. Liquid courage was giving him one hell of a kickoff. Nudging your hips he motioned for you to jump up into his embrace and within seconds your legs were wrapped around his torso. “What the fuck”, you breathed out breathlessly, as Bodhi moved to nibble on your neck. “You looked too good”, he muttered, “I couldn’t”, he sighed, “Couldn’t hold back any longer”.

Your own heart picked up the beats as if it already wasn’t working overtime. “You don’t mean it. It’s a game for you”, you grunted, truly to push him away. Now with a moment to catch your breath, your sensible mind had returned. Flashes of other, countless females drooling over Bodhi filled your mind. “Don’t you have a Margarita or some other bitch to run to”, you pushed back but Bodhi only pulled you closer. “Are you jealous, baby?”, he mussed, brushing his finger over your cheek. You turned your head to the side, earning a chuckle.

“I like seeing you like this”, Bodhi breathed, “Why don’t you claim me, it would save you the eye rolls”, his words were barely a whisper against your skin. “Fuck you”, you hissed, dragging your palms down his chest. “Oh, funny you mentioned that, cause I’ve been trying to do that”, he purred making you huff, “You’re so annoying”, “Your body seems to disagree”, and it truly was that, because while your brain tried to fight him, your hands seemed to want nothing but to undress him.

“This shouldn’t… We shouldn’t”, you muttered breathlessly as Bodhi captured your lips in a kiss once more. “Then tell me to stop”, he said before biting your lip playfully, “Make me stop, baby”, for the first time since he pulled you aside his hands loosened around you. Giving you more than enough space to pull away. To stop this. To get going. Because there was already so much going on. Graduations. Ne cadets. Revolution. Mixing a relationship into all of this?

Yet something about the lack of Bodhi’s warmth against you. The loss of the feeling of his heart beating right against you was wrong. Your hand recharged up for his, pulling it up right where it had sat right under your bum for support. Bodhi let out a chuckle, “That’s what I thought”, his face was as bright as the stars up in the sky. Shining brightly. “Wipe that grin off your face and kiss me”, you dragged him closer by the collar, crashing your lips against his with a messy kiss. Neither is willing to give up dominance yet. “You’re like a fucking drug..”, Bodhi pulled back panting, “It’s your lucky night, 'cause you might get another fix”, you muttered smirking right up at him.

#bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran imagine #bodhi durran x oc #bodhi durran x you #bodhi durran iron flame #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #iron flame x reader #iron flame imagine

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black-lake · 1 year

Text

astro observations 9

hey folks, I found new stuff to talk about. this is more of an outer planets and generations obs 🚀

——

✮⌁ when uranus conjunct pluto happened during 1964, we saw a lot of rebellious music, fashion and other forms of expression, the beatles, bowie's debut album, twiggy, bob dylan.. etc. It was an important decade for many changes and revolutions. It's why so many people are still influenced by the art, music and appeal of that era. Even though it was a relatively short period, the intense need for freedom was loudly expressed that decade. I think with pluto in aquarius we may see similar events, but on a larger scale and with a far more lasting impact.

✮⌁ neptune will move into aries in 2025, and boy when I tell you I can't wait, I terribly mean it. I think neptune in pisces wasn’t doing it for me, I had creative expectations for it but it was all about spirituality and faith practices on the internet and an unhealthy addiction to it. this was right after neptune in aquarius which we all know made the internet an addiction in itself.

✮⌁ It had its positive impact, being open-minded about different beliefs, exploring our intuition and faith and other abstract topics. but we've already seen the negative impact. It's mainly the spirituality addiction on the internet that has became almost inescapable, replacing reality, practices performed and consumed by really young individuals which could distort their view on the world at an older age. living in an illusion and assumption of everything and everyone, believing everything you hear blindly, because of your or someone else's false sense of intuition will make the world more closed-off and less likely to evolve. it can create a reversed effect, inducing fear of real life interactions, closed-mindedness and seclusion.

✮⌁ with neptune in aries, we will come out of our shells and live in the real world, we will explore the world with a new set of eyes and a fresh sense of passion and childlike wonder. We're less likely to listen to our fears and other people's assumptions and bs. It's a new astrological cycle. Our collective hopes, dreams, fantasies and passions are reborn. Now especially when uranus moves into gemini, the same year, people will be more encouraged to become social and intimate, more fun talks and activities, I hope 🥹 this will also help fuel the inventive ideas pluto in aquarius brings with it.

✮⌁ y'all there's more to astrology than just money, success and fame. you can explore the world with that tool, thousands of things to talk about. there're topics that aren't given as much attention here. if you have something interesting and new you posted or you wanna talk about and are shy plssss just share it in the comments I'm all for ittt I wanna see it.

✮⌁ last time pluto was in aquarius 1778-1798, there was an industrial revolution going on, the peak of "the age of enlightenment", the french revolution, and many other political revolutions. the battery, hot-air balloon and parachute were some of the things invented. uranus was discovered in 1781. fun fact, the airplane was invented when pluto was retrograde in gemini in 1903, which makes sense since it rules over flying and air travel, also uranus was in sagittarius which rules travel as well, so interestingly enough there was a uranus-pluto opposition.

✮⌁ when uranus moves into gemini (ruling air travel) and with pluto being in aquarius, we literally may see spaceship inventions or spacecrafts and rockets that will launch to space. we may even be able to travel to a certain planet or at least find something new about it. we may find creatures or living things in space. air travel may look different, hydrogen-powered planes, cleaner and eco-friendly energy sources. at the very least we may hear of new scientists, and keep up with them.

✮⌁ any outer planet in libra, is a timeline I'd like to skip if I ever lived in, which I won't thankfully. It's by far the least sign that has potential to bring evolution and advancement to a generation, excluding aspects, it just ain’t doing much. Idk what it is, but maybe people are less likely to do anything considered immoral or unaccepted, they're more likely to do things like pleasing the generation's expectations and opinions. It brings a sense of connectivity, an understanding of comprise to connect and relate to our environment, and a focus on relationship matters, which of course is a building brick to bigger changes like all the transits are. but for me, not an exciting time, ig it's why I'm born in neptune and uranus in aquarius gen 💀

✮⌁ many of us have parents that have uranus or pluto in libra, and tbf, they likely were closed minded, people pleasing or even racist at times. but our pluto sag ass knew how to deal with it. how many of y'all gen z's gave your mommy a lecture on lgbt+ rights and the people with other cultures and backgrounds? 🖐🏼 also butting heads over someone wearing something on the streets, I'm like "THEY CAN DO whatever they want, let them live"

✮⌁ speaking of pluto in sagittarius, I'm a little underwhelmed. dgmw we made so many changes and paved the way for future generations, but moreso, perspective wise. I didn't see many tangible changes from this gen compared to pluto in scorpio, which was wild in terms of sexual expression, experiments, conspiracies, institutional corruption, societal and medical change. pluto in sag was kinda mild, we allowed everyone's voice to be heard, explored other cultures and lifestyles, probably have friends from all around the world, we're willing to learn and are open to all sources of knowledge, we're truth tellers and we won't shut up. I guess our mission was too easy for us.

✮⌁ pluto in sag gen probably have challenging experiences relating to higher education, college years may have been dark and even traumatic for many esp if you also have it conjunct chiron 🏴‍☠️ even our sense of belief in ourselves and optimism is wounded, we put on a happy front because we see a better future for the world at large, but not for us, like we're some type of teachers or gurus raising a child.

✮⌁ if you have pluto conjunct chiron, you may feel dismissed or misplaced. things can hurt deeply with this. this also may indicate some family karma that needs to be resolved. your ancestors may have done shady stuff that cost them a lot. you are here to change that and find the light that future generations will thank you for. you got the resources to do so since conjunction is the most beneficial of all. you got a lot of healing and transformative powers. since it's in sag, it may be about clearing up nasty beliefs and perceptions of people and the world, even harmful actions and disrespect towards different individuals. you're the truth-seeker that refuses to take on outdated traditions and beliefs.

✮⌁ pluto in capricorn gen understand the value of monetary resources because they experienced a restriction of it at some point in their lives. there's this feeling of restriction coming from societal rules or memories of such repressive time, which they may feel the need to go against and prove themselves by working and gaining more power. they know how to survive in times of chaos and make the most out of what they have. they may have goals of creating some type of legacy for themselves and future generations. also maybe capricorn ruling the skeletal system is why caps give the 💀🩻🪦🏴‍☠️ impression, sry I keep making jokes about y'all, but ya dgaf 🫶🏼

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feelingdozy · 1 year

Text

Sleepover

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Hunger Games Masterlist

Summary: waiting for the revolution to take place in district 13, you and Peeta decide to have your first sleepover before everything goes down.

Warnings: weight insecurity/body image

You never knew when it was dark out, relying on the timing of district 13 to tell you when it was lights out. It had been a weird switch. Staying underground constantly made you feel a little claustrophobic in a sense, like you weren't able to ever go above ground.

You hated how an easily erased schedule made your whole day, you wished you'd have more free time throughout. Although you really didn't care about the classes, you'd still gone to them and took notes, knowing how over dramatic they are about their schedules. It's like if you're off by one minute, you've automatically messed up their whole system.

You walked back to your little housing situation, sharing one with Peeta, your best friend. And now because of the games your relationship has progressed into a romantic one, needing to quickly as you wouldn't have been able to make it out of the games alive if not.

The capitol had rushed it, making everything go by so fast. You two couldn't enjoy simple moments together, Peeta proposing immediately after the tours you had been through. Just for the pleasure of the capitol and Snow. You both absolutely couldn't stand Snow, so being in district 13 helped a lot.

"I'm so tired"

You yawned loudly as you collapsed onto his bed, it being the closest to you from where you were.

"hey! I just made that"

"too bad"

Your body relaxed on his bed, taking in the scent of him that calmed you. No matter what it was, if it was of him it always comforted you.

"hey- what are you doing!?"

You felt his hands on your waist, and all of a sudden he had lifted you over his shoulder. You were pretty heavy, wondering if it hurt him a bit. His blanket hit him in the face as you hung onto it well being lifted to try and keep yourself close to the bed, obviously not working.

"how are you even this strong? I'm pretty heavy-"

"your perfectly fine if I can carry you sweetheart"

Your heart pounded when he called you names like that. Sweetheart. Your face was now a bright red, the anxiety and nickname working together to create it.

He carried you over to your bed on the opposite side of the room, carefully dropping you as he didn't want to hurt you. You quickly covered your violently red face with his blanket, feeling like he could feel the heat radiating off of it from where he stood above you.

He yanked it from your arms, wanting to uncover your face and retrieve his blanket for his freshly made bed.

"hey come on give me my blanket back!-"

He finally managed to get it from your tight grip, slowly processing your face before you turned your head into the pillow. He always loved to absorb your emotions, enjoying how you reacted. And this one was new to his eyes.

"are you-"

"shut up!"

He laughed, filling up the room as it echoed. You loved his laugh, it always made you smile. But right now, it was only making your face even redder. He sat on the bed beside you, the mattress deepening from the weight. You somewhat rolled toward him from the weight difference, tapping his back with yours making contact.

"come onnn, roll over y/n"

"You're just gonna make fun of me"

Your voice was muffled by the pillow you were on, not trusting yourself to be able to look at him without a red blush.

"I won't I promise. Please"

He thought of what else could convince you in the moment, trying to grab your waist and turn you to face him.

"please.. sweetheart?"

Your face grew even redder, not knowing it was possible to feel your heartbeat and warmth this much.

"please-"

Your voice trembling at this point,

"I can't handle it, you're gonna make me even worse"

"even worse?"

You finally turned to him, giving in. His eyes were staring deeply at your face, then your hair, then your eyes and lips. he went over them all carefully, memorizing the blush and the emotion in your eyes. The way they looked at him with embarrassment, but also lovingly.

"you see how red I am? I'm basically a heater."

He laughed again, gaining another laugh from you not being able to contain it after his. You admired the way his mouth lifted into the laugh, his eyes too, same with his hair. Everything about him, you realized, was amazing.

"How about we have a sleepover hm?"

"You're always laying with me. Just stay here a little longer and call it a sleepover"

You both laughed, basking in each others company.

"have I.. ever kissed you in private y/n?"

Your eyes widened in a bit of shock. It was quite a random question, but your face still reacted fast.

"without a camera in our faces?"

"no- no.. I don't think so...why?"

He placed his hand gently on your cheek, slowly leaning down to your level on the pillow.

"may I sweetheart?"

"how could I say no to the Peeta Mellark?"

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txttletale · 10 months

Note

this is a question that on other blogs would likely get me exploded with hammers but you seem nice and i swear im just genuinely just trying to understand, but do you have any thoughts on why marxist-leninists are so dismissive of anarchists?

first of all i'd like to preface that i think that marxist-leninists being dismissive of anarchists (and conversely anarchists hollering about evil tankies) is something that is much more common among Posters Online than among people of either political persuasion who are actually meaningfully involved in communist organization -- if 'anarchist' or 'Marxist-Leninist' is primarily an online identity to you, then you're likely to want to signal that identity by loudly and pointlessly disdaining a designated out-group -- if anarchist or marxist-leninst praxis is something you actually do, you will quickly realize, however much you disagree or even dislike the other tendency, that for most practical purposes you will be much served working together when it comes to any anticapitalist or antifascist action.

secondly i'd also like to add that i, personally, am much more tolerant of anarchists than most marxist-leninists even by the standards of actual organizing. i have mutuals, friends, and comrades who are anarchists -- while i believe that the differences between marxism-leninism and anarchism are irreconcilable in a revolutionary situation, i believe that in the vast majority of the world the situation is so far from revolutionary that there is no material or practical conflicts between marxist-leninists and what lenin called "the best of the anarchists". many anarchists have made incisive and useful critiques of capitalism and even of socialist projects (even though i think those critiques are weakened by the anarchist inability to provide a viable alternative).

all that out of the way, here are some problems that i (and other marxist-leninists) have with anarchists:

#1: class-blind & idealistic theoretical frameworks. a lot of anarchists tend to view political systems and articulate criticisms in terms of extremely abstract ideas about 'power', 'authority', and 'hierarchy'. this flattens a lot of substantially different class relationships into broad and inexact categories such as 'domination' -- the result of this is that anarchists lose sight of class relations and the material basis from which power emerges and is maintained. often they will psychologize these elements, explaining systems and the way they function by projecting a psychoanalytical framework onto the holders of power. i find these analyses usually produce incoherent and politically useless truisms. being based purely on ideals and not on materialism leads a lot of these anarchist suppositions to tie themselves into knots -- as engels said, "a revolution is the most authoritarian thing there is", yet many anarchists are revolutionary (supporting the violent seizure of power from the bourgeoisie) but viciously opposed to the DoTP (the violent maintenance of power over the bourgeoisie), with the imo totally incoherent rationale that the latter is 'authoritarian' while the former is not.

#2: individualism. anarchists are generally very concerned with 'individual freedoms' and the importance of the individual as a political unit -- as i often say on this blog, i deny the individual as a meaningful political unit. to me 'liberation' means the working class as a whole being able to live comfortably without the threat of death hanging over their heads if they fail to sell their labour -- 'freedom' is only meaningfully possible when there is a liberation of the working class in totality. in its worst manifestation, this leads a lot of anarchists to totally reject the concept of socially necessary labour or the need for labour to be organised at all (cf. this meme)

#3: the cult of spontaneity. anarchists (obviously) do not believe in centralised organisations. i think, frankly, this is silly, because centralised organisations are the only body capable of mobilizing the working class to mass action. without centralisation, it's impossible to coordinate and act in unison -- that is, to do the very things that make any revolutionary action feasible at all. the revolutionary strategy of simply waiting for the people to 'spontaneously' rise up and install communism because they have all separately decided to is one that's, quite simply, fantastical and has no basis in reality. this holds true for action that falls short of 'armed revolution' too -- to be effective and replicable, direct action needs to be planned, deliberate, and coordinated, and this just isn't possible without an organizing body.

#4: repeating imperialist talking points. now this is not true of all anarchists -- there are lots of principled anti-imperialist anarchists in the world. however, there are also a lot of anarchists who will engage in borderline apologia for US imperialism, who will parrot lines about 'dictators' and 'totalitarian regimes', who refuse to oppose US imperialism because 'all states are the same'. this ultimately (in the most charitable interpretation) stems from #1, where the choice of whether or not to oppose US imperialism is seen mostly as a personal idealistic moral choice (decide What Is Good and What Is Bad) rather than a material choice about what political action can be taken. and of course there are many valuable critiques to be made of the USSR's many failures, and some of these critiques have been made by anarchists -- but some anarchists will descend to Black Book of Communism levels in an attempt to get one in on a strawman of 'Stalinism'

if you want a more detailed in-depth criticism of anarchism from a marxist-leninist perspective that i mostly agree with, this medium article is fantastic. but these four reasons are the main ones i -- while not dismissive of anarchists -- am not an anarchist and generally disagree with anarchist theory.

#tattletxt #marxism

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batlleonafc · 7 months

Note

She’s a scab. She only cares about herself and what she can personally gain. She let her “friends” take the fall more than once now so she could get a world cup and continue to push that she’s the best player in the world when in reality she played like absolute dog shit and really that second ballon dor shouldn’t have gone to her in the 1st place. She’s just trying to stay relevant sorry that I’m giving you guys the truth 🤷‍♀️

Welcome to @handmeascalpel's ted talk, I'm your host @batlleonafc buckle up and enjoy the ride

Hello, anon. I've read everything you've mentioned. Do you have any evidence to support your claims? Considering that I'm reading this now, you don't. So, let me present the evidence I have. If you understand after this, great. If not, I can't stop people from forming their own opinions.

Exhibit A:

You said, "she only cares about herself and what she can personally gain."

On September 1, 2022, Alexia tweeted in support of Irene Paredes when the RFEF essentially blamed her for the players' opposition to the federation. Alexia was injured at the time and wasn't even in camp or eligible for a call-up. She was the first to tweet, sparking the revolution against the RFEF.

Ironically, on September 23 of the same year, exactly one year ago, Alexia was the first to post the Las15 statement, stating that the players wanted a "firm commitment for a professional project" and expressing their unhappiness that private conversations with the federation were leaked.

Exhibit B:

You said, "she let her friends take the fall more than once so she could get a World Cup."

As I mentioned earlier, Alexia was injured and therefore ineligible for a call-up. So her statement and email were never considered valid.

Every statement has always been posted by her first because she has a large following. She has consistently spoken out loudly and clearly about the problems. She never let friends take any fall. More proof is attached below.

She went to the World Cup because she was fit and couldn't escape sanctions, in case you forgot about them. I'd like you to tell me how many players who came back from an ACL injury immediately played well, or maybe just give me some names.

#seacabo was started by Alexia, and she took the lead for everything. It's not hard to find this evidence. Regardless of what people like you want to say about her, both on and off the pitch, you can see what kind of person she is.

Exhibit C:

You say, "that second Ballon d'Or shouldn't have gone to her in the first place."

Who do you think should have won it then? I'd be happy to hear your answer.

But since you brought up the Ballon d'Or, let me share a few things:

Official stats from the 2021/22 season:

La Liga Femenina:

- 26 games played.

- 18 goals scored.

- 16 assists.

Copa de la Reina:

- 4 games played.

- 4 goals scored.

- 1 assist.

Supercopa de España:

- 2 games played.

- 1 goal scored.

- 1 assist.

UEFA Women's Champions League (UWCL):

- 10 games played.

- 11 goals scored.

- 3 assists.

Regarding the Ballon d'Or voting, she only missed out on 29 days, equivalent to one tournament (the Euros). Nobody came close to her stats, and she's a midfielder. These stats are only for her club. Her national team stats are just as impressive, as she has been crucial in every single match, not just easy ones. She essentially surpassed her own record from the previous season when she won the Ballon d'Or. In short, she deserved it.

There's more to a player than just stats, especially for defenders. But the stats Alexia has as a midfielder are outstanding.

Exhibit D:

Finally, you said, "she's just trying to stay relevant." Sorry to say, but she doesn't have to say anything to stay relevant.

She uses her influential platform to talk about what's true and important, unlike many players. Ramona Bachmann is a good example, and even Athenea, for that matter.

I hope you've learned something today, anon. If not, good luck with your opinion of Alexia. You might just look foolish for hating on her.

Thank you for listening to @handmeascalpel's ted talk I hope you learned something today!

#alexia putellas #she had way too much fun doing this #she's the best

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heartbreakprincewille · 1 year

Text

I was just thinking about how Erik's death, although very tragic, was important for many plot-related reasons. Not only to Wilhelm's character and Wilhelm and Simon's dynamic, but also because Erik was the Crown Prince everyone wanted.

If Erik would have been alive and became the King, I highly doubt that it would have brought any sort of conflict to the table. He was described as a "perfect" royal by almost everyone (despite S2 giving us insight about him struggling as well). The traditions would have went on as usual, the lies and secrets and toxic high-society solidarity finding a safe abode under Kristina and then Erik's succession. Even if Wille and Simon would have been together, it wouldn't have been much of a deal, Wilhelm was a spare after all, right? Erik was carved straight out of the image the Royal Court wanted him to be, but in reality it would just have been private therapy sessions and secret realizations about your surroundings but too "duty-bound" to act on them.

But Wilhelm is the Crown Prince everyone needs. Even if they don't realize it. Everyone in that damn school and even the Royals need a severe reality check. I agree, everyone is entitled to their worldview and it's not wrong to harbour a certain belief, but they need to realize how stifling they are. They made Wilhelm deny the video even though saying nothing about it was the right option! And then proceeded to offer the throne to the same person who filmed and uploaded that video. How infuriating is that? You are offering power to a person who can commit literal crimes as soon as its intoxication seizes his brain? Just because the current Crown Prince is non-conforming to your toxic systems and would potentially not bear future heirs? DO YOU GUYS EVEN HAVE MORALS?

I actually hope Wilhelm and Simon's relationship rock the foundations of Hillerska and the Royalty's beliefs. I hope Wilhelm's speech make them introspect what is right and what is not. Everyone needs some sort of discomfort in their worldview to grow, and I really hope Wilhelm and Simon's unabashed love makes everyone's centuries-old solidarity with stoic traditions twist and turn in its grave. I hope Wilhelm's growth as a person becomes so tangible that people like Nils and Stella are never afraid to be loudly themselves if they want to.

RIP Erik, you would have been an absolutely charming King. But trust me, your brother is here to start a revolution.

#dunno where this came from😭#but yeah i was thinking about the scene where August meets Kristina and Kristina is talking to Wille about it and it just made me MAD okay?#even August feels everything wrong about the system but he is too conforming and stubborn to admit it #not shitting on Erik tho he would have been a great King rip #but yeah these rich people need to have their world rock and who's better to do that than someone in a position of privilege? :)#Wille and Simon don't even have to actively participate in anything they are just enjoying their relationship #while everything else burns to the ground lmao #young royals #wilmon #simon eriksson #prince wilhelm

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georgeweasleyslostearhq · 9 months

Text

FRED AND GEORGE - HC

-AT AN ARCADE-

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

FRED

amazed by all the different games and prizes to win

pulls you around every minute to point out something he sees that looks interesting

"oh merlin, Love, look at this! wait, wait, Look at that!"

he's definitely the type of person to nudge the side to help the coins fall over the edge

he would almost spend the whole time on the King of the hammer, telling you he can hit it so hard it breaks the game

after failing at that, he would spend his time playing the basketball game, cursing loudly when he would miss

convinces you to play laser tag

goes a little too hard and get's really competitive against the little kids, yelling in victory when he shoots them

"ha! get out, I got you! I got you!"

would definitely try to use his wand secretly to rig it and make him win, until you catch him

"sorry, I won't! I won't!".

you take it off him after finding him trying to do it again

I feel like he would be fascinated by crazy tower and yell out when he 'fucks up' and loses

you eventually get kicked out of the place because he was yelling and scaring the kids

GEORGE

like Fred, he would also be amazed by everything he sees

he would spend ages at the E-claw trying to get you something and when he would fail, he would say just one more time, but does it five more- or until he actually succeeds

"just wait, sweetheart, I got it, just give me one more chance"

he would show off to the kids that he was the best at the basketball

and like Fred, he would try the King of the hammer and give up after 2 tries

he would try the ticket monster and scream in joy when he landed on the highest number, getting the most tickets

"yes! I told you I could do it, Love"

he would drag you to dance dance revolution and make you do it with him

he would be quite bad at it at first but get really good when he gets the hang of it

he would tell anybody that wanted to go on it to go away

after a while he would get tired and would want to chill a bit, so he would get you both food eat

he would bring you into one of the booths and make you help him shoot the zombies

he would probably save up all of his tickets and use them to buy you the best prize, or the one you want, and might get himself some tickets left

he would take you to the photo booth is they had one of the way out and take photos with you.

he would probably keep them and keep it with him at all times

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

#fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley #headcannons #george weasley headcanons #fred weasley headcanons #fluff #arcade #george weasley x fem #fred weasley x fem!reader #imagines #oliver phelps #james phelps #phelps twins

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vioranhyperfixation · 14 days

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Damian : #011, it has come to my attention that you are unproductive at the leisure time you are excuse with during the time when I'm unavailable. And that's just improper.

#011 : um.. Then what I'm supposed to do? There's nothing here.

Damian : i have realized that too so I decided to brought upon you this

#011 : ???

Damian : this is doll's, a toy with a shell that have similarity to human that most use to play pretend.

Damian : that would also be the case for you. You shall use this doll's to help develop your productivity and creativity.

#011 : ahhh..

Damian : would you like to play it with me?

#011 : yeah!

Damian : then shall we make a series of stories with those doll? Let me start it, this girl is a star, her name is Khalila. She is a bright star, it just that she has a problem, she has not yet granted a human wish like all other star has done. So she was hoping to find someone to grant wish to, upon that thought she caught a brown girl looking hopefull at the sky and she thought, maybe this would be the day!

#011 :

Damian :

#011 :

#011 : uhhhh,, should I continue it?

Damian : yeah, just said anything you want

011 : "star, if you can hear me, please listen to my plea. My brothen had betrayed me and I'm left with the rubble of my home..

Damian : *nod and nudge him to continue

#011 : "I use to think that they would always stand besides me, I don't know they feel that that they are behind me! I- I just want the best for all of us!

Sometimes in the future at the wayne manor

Bruce : Rafi, is there anything you want to do on the weekend?

Rafi : yeah, I'm going to continue the ten wish

Bruce : is that a show you watch?

Tim : what it is about? I don't think I ever heard of that.

Rafi : of course you don't, because ten wish is not a show. It's my doll's lore on the 34th universe

Bruce : sorry?

Tim : well, that's interesting

Rafi : it is, currently my main character. River, is undergoing a survival competition to secure a position on the Catalyst. But because she is well known on her talent of fighting and intelligence she need to use other way to compete, and that's is by registering herself as a professional mourner

Bruce : what?

Rafi : you know, It is a tradition in South East Asia that a loud funeral will assist the dead as they travel to the afterlife, so professional mourners are hired to cry and weep loudly throughout the service. And she register herself as that. I mean, most of her loved one are dead, so she's pretty good at it. Crying and weeping that is.

Bruce : I don't think that's a good way to deal with having your loved one died.

Rafi : I don't want to hear that from someone going feral when his son died.

Bruce :

Tim :

Tim : yeah, I won't lie. It is pretty bad bruce

Rafi : anyway, it has been going pretty well on river part. On the other hand, things are going pretty badly on Khalila part. Jupiter and Neptunus heve yet to come back after the moon revolution.

Tim : wait- wait- you mean evolution?

Rafi : no, revolution.

Tim : okay- I think we skip a big part here.

Rafi : yeah, obviously. This is part 57, you skip 56 part, you're missing on a lot.

Tim : can't we, start from part one?

Rafi : god no, it's a lot. If we put it into book it can lead from 7 to 9 book! If you want to know about what you're missing at you can ask Jason, he listen from the start since we are at LoA. If you don't feel like asking then just skip it, you will understand later anyway.

Jason *who's putting a criminal body to a trash can : hatchuu-

Roy : bless you man

Jason : is someone talking about me? God I hope it's not Bruce.

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rshmra · 10 months

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PRETTY BOY!

plot: niki swears he met the girl of his dreams at the convenience store late one night- however, his discovery proves to be misguided. the "girl" he likes is actually just a really pretty boy, and he's the main vocalist of the new and wildly popular boy group of four, X_CAPE.

<- prev. masterlist. next. ->

written: 1.6k words

chapter ten: in front of eunchae's salad

"stop making tiktoks, chae, you're blasting that damn audio. aren't you supposed to be helping?"

"oh my god can you literally shut the fuck up for two seconds yn, i'm in the middle of something here!"

yn snickers at chaeri's agitated response (because if there's one thing he can be serious for, it's tiktoking.) the group and their staff are arranging the set for yn's newest vlog, but in reality only staff's being productive. kuli's absent-mindedly fiddling with a camera and its tripod by the side, ivory is sitting criss-cross by the door patiently waiting for the contestants to arrive, chaeri is putting his entire soul into passionately dancing to queencard, and yn's perched atop a wooden stool... blindfolded.

"you know, i still don't understand the point of this damn blindfold- i always have to sit for at least twenty minutes with nothing to do and i get BORED. can i take the stupid thing off now?"

"no you can't, because your guests get here soon and you don't get to see them yet." kuli subtly raises his voice a little louder than normal, so to cover the slight creak of the door's hinges as ivory shuts it as quietly as possible. said guests have just entered the massive filming studio, both whispering a silent greeting to the white-blonde male before tip-toeing to where chae's excitedly waving them over. "suck it up, it's only a little longer."

"fine, but i swear if my eyeliner gets fucked-"

"language!" one of the cameramen shouts lightheartedly.

"...you're kidding. so it's fine when chaeri swears but suddenly when i do it it's a federal crime-"

"you're so melodramatic." ivory shoves yn's shoulder lightly, the latter flailing about in an attempt to hit him back while the contestants (namely riki) have to smother a laugh at the sight.

"don't interrupt me!-"

"you can take the blindfold off now."

"fuck off."

"language!"

yn hurls the eyemask at kuli with a vengeance before raising a brow at the set's arrangement. a wide assortment of mats are scattered around the large three-wall space, a single panel missing to keep the area open and- is that a fucking dance dance revolution machine? a trio of differently shaded doors are to his right as usual, the last forest green, middle ruby red and the foremost pitch black. there's also an impressive television placed in the corner with "just dance" on the screen (today's focus is certainly on dancing), but the main attraction seems to be the oversized pad with several rows of multi-colored dots spread in the center of the floor.

"twister? seriously? i killed my back the last time we played this!" yn groans loudly, much to chaeri's delight. he's not left much time to mourn his poor bones, however, as a quick "quiet on set" is callex and the other X_CAPE members scramble to... well, escape the camera shot.

"we'll have fun, yn!" chae hollers as he scurries behind a wall. what the hell are you talking about? he's tempted to ask, but before he can manage a word-

"aaaaand action!"

shit. "we're live, and, uh, back. again. welcome to another episode of cyren says, i'm your host cyren as always-"

an unseen ivory collapses into a fit of laughter. "you are still so bad at this, my god. is this dateline or something..."

"y'know what would be funny? if you go and suck my-"

"cut! yn what the hell."

"can i go one minute without being interrupted?!"

five "cut!"s and multiple scoldings later, they've finally managed to settle down, get through the introduction and brief summary of the series ("you pick your favorites, they do some random activities chosen by my groupmates and i get to throw a wrench into whatever they're doing.") now, they're ready to announce the contestants, starting from third place.

"so this month's choices are all maknaes? well, coming in third will be the youngest of us today. his representative animal is a snake... and he's looking forward to 'beating me in twi'- nope. no, absolutely not." this time yn's the one cutting himself off, upper lip curling to form a judgmental look of absolute disgust. "due to undisclosed reasons we WON'T be having this person here today-"

"give it up for X_CAPE's viper!" the green door bursts open with a shit ton of zest to reveal the boy in question, who's infinitely pleased with himself. yn shoots him a withering glare.

"right. X_CAPE's, ew, maknae viper."

"hey!-"

"anyways. next up..." viper wrinkles his nose playfully as he makes his way to his designated seat, yn pretending not to notice as he peels the next envelope. a grin comes to his face as he reads off the card. "she's your favorite cat-chick, and one of our lovely mcs for music bank, please welcome le sserafim's eunchae!"

"EUNCHAE OH MY GOD." chaeri gasps as she opens her red door with a bright smile, the two exchanging a high five as she sits.

"thanks for having me again cyren," she greets politely, but the two are well acquainted with her to know that she'll loosen up soon enough.

"last episode doesn't count, you only made an appearance!"

"we had fun on your star diary by the way!" kuli yells from elsewhere.

"hey, you're not supposed to be talking." yn rolls his eyes. "all the way in first place now..." he carefully unfolds the paper, not-so-secretly hoping it's the person he thinks it is. the name pops out to him in large letters, and he has to hide his beam behind his hand.

"i'm sure we all know who it is already." viper deadpans at the camera, and eunchae snorts.

"shut it twig. voted in first is the ever-so-talented chick- i mean cheetah, our very own mini michael jackson, here's ni-ki of enhypen!"

"does this count as an official award?" riki steps in with a crooked smirk, and instantly they make eye contact.

throughout all the (many) occasions they've hung out, they kept it casual. at most, yn might have a light touch of blush brushed under his lower lids, but never any super noticable makeup. so, for riki to see him with eyeliner sharp enough to cut diamonds and contour rubbed upon his cheekbones, dressed more casually with white jeans and a cute sweater in his signature dark blue, it's a surprise- a good one at that, because he looks gorgeous.

yn could say the same for him. he has to bite his lip to hold in the compliment that immediately comes to mind after glancing at riki's light turtleneck and dark jacket, pants to match. he invites him to sit down next to him, though neither of them are unaware of the knowing side-eyes they're getting from their juniors.

"i told you i wasn't exaggerating!" viper whispers to eunchae.

"i feel like i'm intruding on something," she mumbles.

"cyren says quit the secrets."

ni-ki laughs. "you're just going to abuse your host power, aren't you?"

"only on viper."

"it's because i'm a better dancer, isn't it?"

"...that may be a stretch."

"eunchae?! i thought you'd have my back!"

with the chaes jokingly bickering in the background, ni-ki takes the opportunity to look longer at yn. he swallows hard, taking in the glitter that litters his upper eyelids to fit with his golden jewelry, to the tint that turns his lips slightly rouge. just say whatever- sunghoon's advice repeats in his head as he discreetly turns off his mic, if only for a brief moment, gaze still fixated on the other boy.

yn takes note of this stare, silently switching off his microphone to return it. "what?" the corners of his mouth twitch with his teasing tone, and riki has to rack his brain for what to say.

you look-

well, great is way too half-assed, amazing is too vague, and nice is boring. so he ends up blurting the first word that he actually thought of.

"you look really pretty."

he curses internally, hoping he hasn't said the complete wrong thing- but according to the way yn's using his cards to hide the lower half of his face, he's done well.

the host turns to pay attention to the conversing younger duo for a minute to process the bold compliment, before returning his attention to riki. "are you insinuating that i don't look pretty all the time?"

"you know that's not what i meant."

"i'm kidding, i'm kidding, thank you." yn nudges him gently. "you look pretty too."

"thank you?"

filming wraps up in a few hours, each of the teens having had a blast. they're all a bit worn, though, after literally running around the entire time. riki shares a sideways smile with yn when it's time to exchange farewells, despite both knowing they're likely to see each other within the next two days at least.

"i had fun," he admits as he slides into his jacket, yn ready to see him out.

"of course you did, i'm wonderful to be with." he leers lopsidedly at the taller from beneath his lashes.

"yeah, okay," ni-ki laughs softly. "we still on for saturday?"

"when are we not?" yn rolls his eyes. "i'll text you."

"no, you'll call instead."

"you know me so well." he pushes riki's shoulder gently. "now go, stop stalling! i know you're getting picked up."

"so eager to get rid of me..." he pouts fakely as he finally exits, yn waving him all the way down. once he's out of sight, the boy turns to say goodbye to eunchae, only to find her giving him an unimpressed stare with her arms crossed.

"really? right in front of my salad?"

"so chaeri's recruited you to his cause, huh."

"would it kill you guys to keep your flirting PRIVATE?!"

"you want the honest answer to that or...?"

"i hate you."

notes: god tumblr pisses me off so bad it took me 30 MINUTES to add 3 images holy shit. anyways happy 4th of july to anyone the celebrates AMERICA RAHHH or wtv,,, i had no reason to add eunchae btw i js love her so much. also i know i know cyki hasnt made any REAL progress but i have plans believe me

taglist: @silkentides @nikikids @totoroblop @winter-world @phantom-butterfly @simsoobean @byu @noredplz @sh0uj0-r3i @onementally-unstabel-kid @thepeachyhub @enhypen-reblog @ao5riki @bearseulgs @le0-0nidas @gothhyucks @to-toad @ddeonubaby @nootnootpinguuu @sunseeking-cryptid @priochebun

bold can't be tagged!

#x reader #enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enha x male reader #enha x reader #male reader #niki x reader #nishimura riki #enha niki #niki x male reader #ni ki enhypen #enha riki #enhypen riki #enha smau #smau #ni ki #riki x reader

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anakinskywalker97 · 2 months

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5 - The Rise of Skywalker

Vader x Ex-Padawan reader - Chapter 5 - Meditation

Previous parts

Summary: Vader finds out the true extent to how much damage his body endured after mustafar, meditation leads him to an old friend.

Thanks for all the love on this series! Reblogs and comments are what keep me going! <3

Warnings: panic attack description, hurt/comfort

No one would be that stupid.

Vader wasn’t sure what you meant until he saw it with his own eyes. People had a very healthy respect for you, especially the Rebels and their alliances. You had a reputation, one he didn't realize belonged to you. He had heard of the Shadow Tempest many times. The epic runs, always one step ahead of the Empire. The pilot behind almost all the notable Rebel wins. In all his time with you he always did most of the piloting, he knew there were a million things to do and sort out but more than anything he wanted to take you out and see who would win.

He sat there in a meeting of people, the higher-ups of the revolution, and watched as they listened to you. You never asked for anything, simply told them that he was on your side now and that he needed the best medical. In return, they would have your help in defeating the Empire. They were very eager to have your support, apparently up until this it was very hard to persuade you into helping them. Something he would ask more questions about as from what he was told your ship had been center stage in most Rebel wins. He was surprised that help from you and Obi-Wan was enough for them to overlook his past.

Obi-Wan let out a tense laugh as they handed him a bank card. Apparently, all his money was in his account and had been converted over to card technology despite his leaving. He could go run off and be a murdering psychopath then come home and find out how much interest he had earned off his funds. This wasn't right. He didn't deserve this. People had to accept him at your request, but he could feel the way they trembled in his presence. Fear gripped people tightly and he could even feel their concern for you. Even without being able to read their thoughts, he knew their plans to pull you aside to see if you had stockholm syndrome or if he had possessed you. He guessed that was a good thing, people here cared about you. Everyone stopped what they were doing to greet you, relief that you were safe overwhelming their features, it was good to know it wasn’t skin deep. People really cared.

He was unsure about the Rebel's plans for the Empire though. But then again he was retiring from this world. He would kill the Sith, try to come back from being one, restore balance to the universe, and hide away with you - hopefully forever.

Ahsoka had not been pleasant, but she came around for the sake of ending the Empire. He hoped in time he could mend things with her. She had been your closest friend and he missed how easily she fit into the family that was formed during the Clone Wars. A family he had to put back together.

R2 was beyond happy to see him. He ran around him squealing loudly. Everyone looked horrified but he bent down and put his arms around the droid. Affection towards R2 was easy. He was the most dependable thing in his life for the longest time. He was well-maintained but still looked like he was an active participant in the war. He thought of all the lore that surrounded the Shadow Tempest, more than anything he wanted to pull R2’s memory and watch every bit of footage he had saved. He would come back for it another time.

“I kept her safe” R2 chirped loudly in his language and he laughed again patting the little droid on what would be considered his head.

“Thank you, you did an excellent job R2.” He was grateful he left something behind to help you in his absence even if it was unintentional.

Then the medical meetings started. Once he saw all his options, he was overwhelmed. From the stem cells they had of his on file, they could re-grow most of his skin to cover the prosthetics. They would have to remove more of his arms and legs as the nerves had been permanently and purposely damaged where they met the metal prosthetics. The rest of his skin could be healed with minor scaring, they could even regrow his hair follicles.

After looking at the scans and seeing the damage Palpatine did he had to leave.

He had no idea what he gave up that day on Mustafar.

He lost the woman he wanted to marry, the ability to give her a nice life, to touch her without hurting her, to touch her and feel her skin. Not to mention the horrible things he had said to you at the end lived rent-free in your mind all these years. He had given up the one person in the world he considered family, he had tried to kill his brother. All of this was to build something better for them. Yet he spent years trying to kill Obi-Wan, terrified of his old master. The sickness was too much to contain as it all came flooding back to him.

Let me go - he commanded you as he left the building. It was cruel but he was drowning in pain. He was so consumed with rage and self-hate he left to go to the temple where Obi-Wan had been going to meditate.

He knew the only true way out was through. He couldn't go on a rampage, couldn't give into weakness. He couldn't lose you again.

Palpatine had made him suffer to prevent him from his full potential. To keep him from his density. Just as the Jedi had done. Everyone wanted to hold him down, force him to comply, just like Watto. He had been so caught up in thinking he deserved the pain, which in his opinion he still did. Palpatine gave him the illusion of control and freedom. That power was so seductive but what had it gotten him? The lives he took ran through his mind at a speed that made him dizzy. Nausea gripped him as the familiar coldness ran up his limbs to settle in his stomach. It was what he imagined death felt like. The icy energy caressed his body, but he had been here too many times before to know he wasn't that lucky.

It was his punishment, he had earned it fair and square. A lifetime of suffering would never be enough to make up for the lives he took. His mind ran through this for hours as he sat in the temple trying to find peace and clarity.

He’d done too much, taken too many.

“You did what the Force deemed necessary.” The voice made him jump, not an easy thing to do. The hazy, glowing form of Qui-Gon was in front of him.

“I -” He started to argue back.

“You - are the living force. The Sith willed you into existence Anakin, there is a power in you unlike anything else in this Galaxy.” He explained calmly and his heart sank at the realization of his words.

“I’m evil.” His voice was so broken. A truth he always should have known deep down. There would be no path leading towards the man you wanted, needed, him to be.

“No, there is no good and evil in the true force, this concept of light and dark comes from the people sensitive to it and how they choose to use it. You are what it is in its true form”

“Then why is everything inside me so painful.” His voice was wet with the tears streaming down his cheeks. As far back as he can remember that power inside him has always been anger.

“Because you experienced great pain. You have to understand that your life was always one with the force. The choices you made were ultimately the direction of the force. It wants balance. The Sith and Jedi were flawed ways of doing things, it’s your job to follow this through.” His words brought tremendous relief and a tremendous amount of anxiety at the same time.

“I failed you.” He whispered.

“I failed you. Had I been around I fear that things would have been better for you. Obi-Wan was not ready, but that does not mean he doesn't care for you.” Qui-Gon smiled sadly. “You have done great things, terrible things, and carried the pain of both of them.”

Anakin sobbed. This task he was burdened with, the pain he had to cause to settle debts that had nothing to do with him. Seeing Qui-Gon made him feel like he was ten years old again. He wanted to run into his arms and hold him.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

“Now, you must complete your training with Obi-Wan, I have shown him what is needed. You must also complete training your Padawan.” He gave Anakin a big smile. “She is more important than you realize. The second half of the prophecy rests on her shoulders. You must be there to help her carry it.”

“What’s the second half of the prophecy?” His voice went dark again. He didn’t want this nonsense anywhere near you. He wanted to end Palpatine and have this part of his life over with. Had he not sacrificed enough of himself for it? Had he not tried to make the right choice every time despite the cost? The only request he had ever had in this life was to spare you and his mother.

“Don’t worry about that. Just focus on training and confronting Palpatine. Only then you will be a Jedi, a true Jedi.” Qui-Gon looked at him for a long moment. “She will be fine.” His eyes held an emotion that Anakin didn’t understand. It scared him, but he trusted Qui-Gon. He didn’t really have a choice in the end, you were too involved to shut out. You were certainly not naive enough to dump off on some planet again.

He had a million questions but felt Qui-Gon fade out. A new presence took his place, one he knew could have no form or words. She could just manage a feeling and it was enough. It was more than enough, the feeling wrapped around him and he held onto his mother tightly.

After a long while, he came back to the present moment. He reached out to Obi-Wan, knowing that reestablishing the bond would be unavoidable.

Master - He reached out and felt the bond attach on the other side.

Anakin - Obi-Wan sounded surprised and the full force of his calm presence washed over Anakin. How much he had missed being able to reach out and feel his master. The feeling was so overwhelming he needed to stay in it for a moment.

I need your help - He was unsure of what he would have left to learn from Obi-Wan but he trusted Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan rushed to the temple and Anakin could feel his unsettled nature. The concern for him made him want to cry again. He didn't deserve this side of Obi-Wan. He watched his master take in his meditation pose and his eyes softened. He sat next to him and Anakin tried to keep his composure as Obi-Wan’s arm came around his shoulders.

“I want to apologize again,” Obi-Wan whispered. He could feel Shmi’s presence had not left the temple yet.

“Please don’t.” Anakin choked. He could tell through the newly established bond just how much sorrow Obi-Wan’s heart carried. He was overflowing with it. He knew he felt responsible for Anakin’s mother, for how poorly the council had treated him, especially when he was a boy. He could feel how painful exile had been, how he couldn't escape Anakin so he moved to Tatooine to fully accept his punishment. How much he hated the sand, but how much he loved being close to the brother he lost. Then he realized that the fresh paint and seasonal flowers on his mother’s grave was his doing. He could see his master there lighting a candle occasionally sitting with her telling her his best stories, all the moments she missed out on while he was away. The love for him that was often so well concealed flowed through the bond.

“We failed each other,” Anakin whispered.

“I was older and should have been wiser.” Obi-Wan said sadly.

Anakin told him about the prophecy and they sat there together considering things.

“You must overcome your emotions -” Anakin flinched and Obi-Wan put his hand back on his shoulder “ You must feel them and use them, but not be overwhelmed with them. Once you submit to your anger you lose the light, when you lose your anger and sense of justice, you lose your power. Everything must be about finding balance.”

Anakin nodded.

“Do you think she will stay?” Obi-Wan looked confused by his question.

“Why would she leave?” He asked softly, with tenderness in his features.

“The whole Sith creation thing. She wants me to be better, that doesn't sound good with my track record.” Anakin could feel his insecurities start to rise up and he took a breath.

Obi-Wan let out a laugh. “If she didn't want to see you she wouldn't have accepted jobs in Imperial air space for the past 7 years.”

“I still can't believe you let her do that stuff,” Anakin said slightly put out with his master.

“You think I could stop her?” He laughed again and Anakin shook his head.

_________________________

He reluctantly stood in the elevator up to your apartment. He should feel a sense of relief, or motivated towards his plan. Instead he just felt anxious. He wanted you more than anything else in the galaxy. He’d sacrifice what he had to. He didn’t care that it was attachment, you were going to be his at any cost necessary. If you were horrified what would he do? Just force you down and fuck you back into submission again?

No.

He sighed as the door to your apartment opened, he hated it when you forgot to lock the door. You were in the kitchen cooking, the sight of him caused you drop the wooden spoon into the frying pan. Your fingers picked it out and you hissed as the heat stung your flesh.

Panic raced through him. Memories of Mustafar bit into his still aching flesh. He grabbed your wrist with too much force, using the other hand to manhandle you towards the sink. He put your fingers under cold water and tried to breathe.

_______________

Anakin’s gloved hand had a painful grip on your wrist as he held it under the cold water. The fear in his eyes scared you as a cloud of darkness wrapped around him tightly. He wrapped his other hand around your torso and rested his cheek on the top of your head. You could feel his tears sinking into your scalp.

“Anakin, it’s alright.” You said softly holding on to him with your free arm. “It won’t even scar, it doesn't hurt.”

Your words were from this moment in time and you knew his mind was far away. In a world you probably wouldn't be able to reach. You let him hold you tightly.

“I’m a Sith.” He said quietly making you jump slightly.

“I know.” You werent sure what exactly he was referring to.

“What do you know?” He asked pulling away to look down at you. He was so much taller, you felt swallowed by his frame.

“I had this vision? Not sure you could call it that exactly.” You tried to figure out what you wanted to tell him before you realized the best thing to do would be to read what you had written about it right after it had happened. No details would be missed or confused. “Here, I’ll grab my journal.” Your words did nothing to lessen his grip on you.

He gave you a conflicted look. With the force he grabbed a jar of burn salve from the fridge. He opened it and stuck your fingers in it.

“Just stay.” He was worn so thin it reminded you of when he had left you all those years ago. Three days he was at the temple, that probably meant three days without sleep. Not a good idea for Anakin.

“Which journal is it?” He asked looking for guidance.

“Erm - I’d have to help.” You picked the jar of salve up and kept your fingers inside it to appease him. Where did people go to get help for this sort of thing? You had no idea how to reassure him when he got like this. You just did what he wanted or had sex with him.

He was satisfied with this. He moved with you to the bedroom. He followed your gaze to the few shelves that held notebooks, knowing full well he wouldn't listen if you told him not to read them.

You pulled three from the shelf from around that time frame with the force and started flipping through them. His attention was engrossed with the colourful writing and drawings. You found the part you were looking for and handed it to him, returning the other two back to their place on the shelf.

You reluctantly gave it over to him and returned back to the kitchen. Thankfully dinner hadn’t burned, as he’d turned the element down. He followed you leaning against your island while you kept cooking. His red eyes making sure your fingers stayed coated in the salve.

You didn't hear him read the lines but you felt his heart clench. He rested his head in his hands for a moment.

“Why did you come back?” He groaned. When you had written down what had happened you were completely terrified. You’d faced him and thought he had killed you. You woke up a shaking mess and wrote down every detail you could recall in case it came back to hurt you one day. You could feel his shame at the fear bleeding through the pages.

“I didn’t I got captured.” You said evasively. You didn't know how to answer the question he was asking you.

“Why did you bring me back.” He clarified his eyes devouring you. A memory came to you of laying in a field with him after a mission had ended and you were waiting on the ship to be repaired. The grass was covered in wild flowers and you laid in the sun, you had feelings for him but didn’t know how to tell him. You’d almost been hit on the mission and the way he had hugged you after was replaying through your mind.

“I promised you I would always come back.” You referenced that moment when he had almost lost you for the first time. “There’s enough of you in there to make the risk worth it.”

He closed his eyes and you felt him breaking down. You turned the element off half expecting to get jumped.

“I’m sorry.” His words were so thick and raw.

“Me too.”

“No, you haven’t done anything. I did it all, turns out I had to in the end. But still, the things I’ve done to you-” His voice broke.

“I wanted you to.” You felt his mind revisit that first night you had back together.

“You didn’t.”

“I did. I don’t know if you know this but I’m quite vocal when I’m unhappy.” You smirked.

“You tried to push me away, I thought it was you pulling us together -” He took a deep breath. He needed to eat and then sleep before he got too carried away.

“I don’t care. I wanted you back. That’s what I got.”

“There’s another part to the prophecy.” His voice was low.

“Oh boy.” you whispered.

“Qui-Gon won’t tell me what it is, but it’s about you.” His features looked manic and you knew it was time to shut things down before he went over the edge.

“I can handle it.” You said staring him down. You wouldn't let him be an idiot about things this time. “Now. I’m going to wash my fingers off, we're going to eat. Then sleep.” He considered you for a long moment. You could tell he was recounting what happened last time he got this worn down and scared.

He gave you a reluctant nod. You both ate quickly and despite it being 7:30 at night you got washed up and into bed.

Anakin fell asleep quickly leaving you time to think about everything. The true power of the darkside was a mystery to you. Having been Force resistant for the past 7 years, you felt particularly extra sensitive to it now. You could feel two sides of the force battling inside him, even as he slept the conflict radiated off of him. The pain still ate at his bones and his lungs were still struggling. Despite warring on him, the force was so strong it kept his body functional, making up for the gaps and the failings of his flesh.

Just like everything else about Anakin Skywalker, this was something unheard of. Even when he wanted to die, even when his body was decaying, the force still pushed him forward.

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