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#much love ♡
kyrakyrakitty · 8 months
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okie okie i don't currently have the energy to elaborate on my thoughts, but a few things from the pmmm trailer i wanted to point out!!
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the symbol homura is seen with when summoning the phone is mirrored in the gleam of the arrow seen later
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the flower arch behind madoka has gears in it rather than flowers!!
also: could the mention of dreams in the trailer relate at all to the nightmares in rebellion?
oh, and i know ive seen people talk about walpurgisnacht making one half of an hourglass with gretchen, but i dont know if ive seen much about the gear that makes up walpurgisnacht's core and the relevance of gears to clocks & thereby their association with "setting back the clock" & homura. we see madoka crucified on a gear/clock in the original series when kyubey and homura are discussing the fate the latter has doomed madoka to
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i think that's another point to the "homura becomes walpurgisnacht" theory!
these are just a few things i haven't noticed as much discussion of yet (sorry if theyve been pointed out before!!) i definitely want to elaborate more on my thoughts, but i am chronically sleepy, so ill probably do it in lil bursts ♡ id love for anyone who has thought on these elements to share!!
i hope you find reason to smile today, and dont forget to hydrate!! ♡
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nuditorium · 2 years
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I've seen some of your posts about the relationship you left and I'm so glad you managed to remove yourself from such awful toxicity. Nobody deserves shabby treatment like that, especially when they never acted in ways to cause hurt and yet this other person never gave pause for consideration.
You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you so much for this. It was a very difficult journey to finally get myself to leave and so I sincerely appreciate this recognition ♡ and you’re so right, literally nobody deserves that type of treatment whatsoever. Thank you for your kind words and love, anon :,) much love and good fortune to you too my dear ♡
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thebrainrotsreal · 3 months
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Random musings about an episode where Spectra disguised herself as a student, rather than a counselor to sow misery within the high school! Spreading gossip, being outright malicious, shattering friendships, and all that jazz! Plus, using that fact she looks like a teen against Danny, since unless cornering her, he couldn't fight her without looking like he's attacking a random student.
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wr0wn · 3 months
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♡♡♡
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luckyjorabbit · 11 months
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Hank hill and dale gribble comic 👍
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robo-beasty · 6 months
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Gortash: He hasn't texted, he hasn't called... Did I get DUMPED? Orin: I DON'T CARE. Now put your shirt back on, whoretash!! Ketheric: Please. Extra Durge snickering from the side because Gorty is being silly ♡
Gortash drawn by the wonderful @kaijusaur!!
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jkvjimin · 16 days
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KIM TAEHYUNG & JEON JUNGKOOK ↳ BTS: YET TO COME IN BUSAN for @jung-koook ♡
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cupidreamexe · 2 months
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some pokemiku icons from the newest project voltage mv, glorious day by eve!!
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tarjapearce · 10 months
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Lips anon! Dark King Miguel and the gentle princess. The original one except Miguel is the king you dread to marry. Even more so when you meet him. He's a hulking man adorned with obsidian armor laced with gold. Cold piercing red eyes. If you weren't terrified, you would have seen how handsome he was, and that his gaze was filled with intrigue rather than hatred.
He takes your hand in armored claws, and kisses it. Now you blush.
You were to spend a good chunk of time in the palace with him until the day of the wedding. At first it's a nightmare because you are with someone who's slaughtered thousands of men, but he's gentle with you. Not exactly kind. But gentle.
Oh oh, imagine she took a little diary with her. She records her time in his lands, and he finds it while snooping in her room (checking for any weapons and such). He reads it and finds quite a bit about her. He rolls his eyes at the passage of her describing her dream man, but he is very intrigued about her wanting a bunch of children. He can give that to her, he wants many heirs too 🤭
Im such a sucker for these sort of tropes :'D ❤️❤️❤️ (Had to write this twice cause Tumblr erased the draft midway 😭😭)
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You fretted in your chambers.
Despite the kingdom's overall economy and exterior political relations were thriving, the feeling of wariness set heavyly on your chest. The Queen and King had forbidden your stay at the most recent council's meeting, and when you demanded an explanation, you were met with nothing but silence and pained looks.
"Your Majesty! Come back here! You can't go inside!"
"They are hiding something from me, Lucille. I know it!"
"But you just can't interrupt!" Your maid and friend had been trying to prevent to get in the throne room. She caught your arm and looked solemn for a moment.
"You... You too?"
She shook her head and sighed, pulling you to a more private spot.
"You must be very quiet, ok?" Lucille guided you through a secret little passageway you didn't know the castle had. Hidden in plain sight that took you exactly where you wanted, a small hole on the wall enough for you too take a glimpse of the room.
Sparse, war table on a side, some guards you couldn't recognize stood next to a chair, partially revealing who sat in it. You could only get a small reveal of his arms. Dark skinned, strong arms clad in obsidian and golden that ended in a claw like gauntlet.
"Your Majesty" Your dad spoke, a slight tremor in his voice, "I think we are rushing into conclusions, ser. You'll see our men-"
"I don't want your men, neither your women. My army is more than enough and if I wished, your kingdom would be wiped out at my command."
You father stressed kn his chair as your mother just watched with keen eyes the display of power.
"We might not be a large kingdom, your majesty-"
"You're right, ser. You're like a tiny and annoying stone that got in my greaves, but I have had enough bloodshed for now"
"T-Then what is it you want, your majesty?"
You frowned at the armored man's attitude as dread crept up your bones. His gauntlet curled on his head, pondering as he slicked his soft, wavy and dark locks back.
"Surprise me, your majesty" He sneered the two last words and you swallowed.
"I will give you the most precious thing I possess, your highness." Your mother spoke confidently as her eyes were casted at the man.
"Being?"
"My daughter. The princess."
Lucille gasped and you quickly covered her mouth. His ears perked at the sound and tensed, but ignored it since he just chuckled.
"I came here in order for you to understand why I need the West passage of your borders open, not to get married." He stood and it was yout time to gasp at the size of him. He looked gigantic, your father had to crane his head up to meet his eyes.
"Think about it, your highness." Your mother pressed as she also stood.
"We can't open the passage due to political differences between our Kingdom and Erunia. It's closing wasn't to meddle in your affairs, but more like a preventive solution in our safety, in case an invasion happened. The least of things we would want is another war against a powerful kingdom we know we have no chance against. "
The obsidian clad man seemed to pay attention to your mother's words
"Sure, our Kingdom is thriving again, and economy and politics seem promising, but you must also understand we have nothing much to offer you when we are still recovering from a war. We still mourn, and we are getting on our feet again."
Your throat tightened upon her mentioning mourn. Your brother, the prince had died in battle.
"And for me to offer you, this kingdom's most precious jewel... I'll leave it to your interpretation."
The man seemed to relax slightly. Political things weren't your strength but, you didn't have to be a genius to know that tension had been rising within the neighbor kingdoms. Yours was a small one that served as a bridge among the others. Without you, the rest would collapse bit by bit.
"I offer you protection, in exchange of your daughter."
Tears welled up in your eyes. They were using you like an object. The deal was sealed, and so was your fate.
------
You had refused to see your parents after that, your mother had explained that it was for the kingdom's best interest.
"But what about me? I know that is selfish to think this way but, this is not what I want."
"It's not about what you want, more like what must be done. Your duty as a princess is to see for the people's interest, my dear. Our wishes matter little when the men think it's funny to play war."
"But mother, how could I possibly marry someone like that? Arachne kingdom is ruthless! And so is it's ruler!"
"We had no choice, my dear. Your brother... Im sure your brother would have chosen to try and wage a war against him to keep our autonomy... There is enough bloodshed as it is for now." She cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead.
"Besides, he is not that bad. He was... civil and wise enough to hear us. And now, thanks to you we have his protection and a new chance of being the kingdom we used to be."
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You were set to depart to Arachne's kingdom within two weeks, and you made sure to enjoy the last bits of your freedom in your home. The wedding was set within 3 months. Or so the dark scroll the mysterious man had sent, said.
And when that day arrived, your carriage departed between sobs, anguish and heartfelt goodbyes. You didn't like the feeling of being seen as a martyr, but it gave your people hope.
----
If you had to describe Arachne's beauty you'd settle for twisted. A contradiction of many types of beauty melded in a single space. The outskirts were full of thorns so thick you thought your carriage would be crushed before even reaching the castle, but the more your caravan approached, the sceneries changed into something less harrowing to a more utopic sort of settling.
Tall towers stood proud in the different cities, but one thing you couldn't help but notice were the elite guards. Mostly clad in a light armor, red and blue, a spider-skull like emblem on their chest. You weren't allowed to bring Lucille with you, a strange petition from this... Miguel King.
Miguel O'Hara. Ruler of Arachne. Commander of an elite force with abilities that surpassed the common guard forces. Many said it was his secret to get him where he was. Despite the rumors about the kingdom being desolated and hunger stricken, witnessing the opposite with your own eyes made your heart a little hopeful.
After all he had sent a small crew of four to guard you during the trip. A blonde girl with a left side of her head shaven, a tall dark young man with braids on each side of his head slicked back with a look that pierced your soul, Another black man with many perforations in his face, with the strangest hairdo you had seen in someone, and their commander. A tall, black slender woman with a red and obsidian armor. None of you talked during the trip. But the pierced face young man and the blonde girl offered you small, almost sympathetic smiles your way.
----
Your arrival at the castle was announced. Your four escorts guided you to the main hall and kneeled before the man you had only caught a minimal glimpse of. Red eyes regarded your form, clad in a emerald green with golden trims dress.
You could notice his eyes widening just slightly as you entering the room. And then he stood. Your breath was caught in your throat and just as your father, you had to crane your head up to meet his eyes. Captivating yet full of unspeakable things. But you were certain, hatred wasn't one of them, rather wonder. He stared at you with mild curiosity.
You revered before him.
"Princess (Name) of Theleria, at your service, my lord." Sweet and soft spoken. A stark contrast of his overall aura. He noticed the small tremor in your hands and chuckled.
"Welcome, Princesa." Despite his imposing and intimidating looks, his royal etiquette shone through.
"Make yourself at home" Or so it did it's best. He returned to his work. He wasn't much for words as you were escorted to your own chambers. You certainly were swooned by the place grandeur and the elite force you had heard so much.
"Your Majesty sends his apologies, he won't be able to meet you during dinner. Would you like to eat on your chambers, or in the dining hall?" The man wore another red and blue armor, you had noticed that only commanders wore a certain type of armor.
"In my room, ser. Thanks."
He nodded with a smile and left. Your room was enormous, easily mistaken for a whole wing. You had dinner in your room.
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"Where is she?"
"In her room. She preferred to eat inside."
"Hm." Miguel hummed as he spreaded some map before him. Peter looking at him.
"Want me to arrange a tea meeting with her?"
Miguel's nose scrunched and he shook his head.
"Make it a lunch. I don't like tea."
"I know, coffee guy. You think her parents will keep their word?"
"They better, if not, we'll wipe them."
"Wouldn't that be harrowing for your future bride?"
Miguel arched an eyebrow at him
"Merely political affairs."
"She's pretty"
"Hm and gentle. You know what happens to gentle people."
"They get an arranged marriage with a ruthless belicist of a king." Peter couldn't help but giggle at his mortified expression.
"One more-"
"And I'm out. I know, I know pal. Get some rest. Your eyebags are packing for vacation already" Peter smiled at his annoyed sigh, then left him be.
-----
The lunch never came, as you were stood up, again. You had expected much, after all it was an arranged marriage, of course the desire of knowing eachother just for pretense was only in your imagination. However you had noticed that his gaze lingered on you for more than he actually let on.
You had been sorted through the city, to meet it's people, and so far mostly looked happy? Children ran around a fountain, merchants exposed and sold their goods, art supplies and a small leathery notebook, caught your attention. The extense array of colors had you grinning and marveling at things you had never seen before. Charcoals, complete drawing kits, turpentine, canvas made out of the richest materials.
Arachne's people were kind, welcoming and it just made you wonder how such kind of people had a blood thirsty man for a king? Not that he intentionally waged wars just for fun and giggles. Peter watched you with a lazy smile, occasionally recommending things to try. He and the blonde girl, whose name happened to be Gwen, we're kind enough to answer each of your questions. You didn't dare to ask about Miguel. He seemed too busy to be disturbed and by the way his face was always set in a permanent frown, made you wonder how would things would be in your wedding day.
He was aloof, too buried in his own world of War and battles. You couldn't help but nod with an absentminded expression at Peter saying he won't be for dinner either.
"Of course." That's all you uttered before you returned to the castle and retreated to your room. Your chest constricting tightly.
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"You know, getting any sort of contact with her wouldn't hurt you." Peter spoke as he was polishing his gauntlets.
Miguel remained silent, eyes too focused on the scroll before him.
"How was the trip?"
"She was like a kid in a candy store when we stopped in an art shop."
"Something she liked?" Peter smiled and scrubbed the wax away from the gauntlet
"Paintings and art supplies. She loved the cherry pie and couldn't stop marveling at how dreamlike the city looked"
"Hm. Her kingdom is... small. Nothing much to look around. Anyways, get her what she liked. "
"Beg your pardon?" Peter blinked at him
"Told you to get her what she liked."
"Of course. "
-----
The following days you were either holed up in your bedroom, or in the gardens making small talk with the servants. They seemed good and easygoing people, and it kept you from giving into the loneliness feeling that seemed to loom over your head with each passing day.
Sometimes you'd caught glimpses of him, a small group of elite soldiers tailing behind him in scary synchronization. Your eyes would meet for seconds, but he'd just look away and continue his work.
At this point you knew what the apologetic look on Peter or Gwen meant. He wasn't showing up.
"I'm sorry."
"Have I done something to... upset him this way? To the point of him maybe finding my company repulsive? "
Peter seized you with a frown.
"I know he is a busy man, wars don't wage on their own, I know much. But..." You shook your head and sighed, "Nevermind that. I'm just being pretentious. Bid you a good evening, ser Peter."
You bowed to him and left to your room. You had refused kindly your dinner.
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The next day a couple of guards entered your room as you were writing a letter for your parents. They saluted Peter and left.
"Your Majesty." He bowed and guided your to the medium sized wooden box.
"A gift from the king" Your eyes widened in surprise, your cheeks growing a bit warmer.
"Thank you, ser Peter." You smiled and rummaged through its contents, small squeal upon looking at the leathery notebook you had seen before. Peter left and you wasted no time into enjoying your gift.
Papers, watercolors, oil paints, colored waxes, painting brushes, paint remover, it felt like a dream. Your chest felt giddy at the idea that showed up in your mind.
-----
You gave Peter a small box with something you had done.
"Ser Peter?"
"Yes, your majesty?"
"Could you give this to the King?" You handed him a small velvet pouch. A small canvas in it.
"Do you think he would like it?"
"I'm sure he will, your majesty" Peter smiled.
------------
Miguel took the pouch suspiciously, but his eyes widened at the small painting of himself with a small piece of scroll. A fancy and curvy scribblings on it
Thank you for your kindness, my lord.
Your penmanship impeccable, years of princess etiquette and training reflected on it. his lips curved a bit. You had gotten a good angle of him.
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He snuck in your room as you had gone to the city with Peter and Gwen again. This time, the man with the pierced face came along.
He didn't expect it to be so you. Paintings you did, dried on the window, drawings of things that caught your interest the most; cherries, birds, nature, and kids. Not that he didn't trust you, he just wanted to see with his own eyes what you had done so far with his gift.
He was glad to find you hadn't wasted it at all. The leathery book however made him to pick it up. It was your own diary. His hands carefully flipped the pages, reading into his contents.
A drawing of him with the caption "king of Arachne and quite aloof." the latter in small letters. He sighed and flipped the pages.
The bakery man is such a gentleman! And his pies so scrumptious.
He chuckled at the little pie drawing you did. He found more descriptions in what seemed to be this type of ideal man for you. He rolled his eyes. But the last lines of the pages caught his interest the most.
After losing my brother, it has come to my thinking. I would love a big family on my own.
You wanted kids. Heirs.
The steps outside alerted him as he tossed the diary back on your bed, and soon you'd enter through the door. The way your eyes looked at him with surprise made his heart to flutter softly. He had met rivals in the battlefield, all giving him a horrifying look, begged him to not come closer. But never he had someone to look at him like you were.
His eyes softened as he walked over you. Lips pressed together, you bowed.
"My lord."
He bowed too, adding more wide at your surprise.
"Enjoying your gift?".
"Very much. Thank you." His thank you gift came into mind.
"Did you... receive mines?"
"Of course."
"Did you like?"
Sweet face looked at him, expectantly. His pulse quickened.
"Si." He mumbled and you looked at him confused for a second.
"I'll take it as a yes?" You smiled.
So so sweet.
He relaxed.
"I'll see you in the dining hall."
"Oh?"
To your surprise he looked at you as he took your hand and kissed the back of your soft palm.
"Don't be late". He left.
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waterdropsfall · 1 month
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Redraw of this panel
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But i add my little stuff again :)
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.⁠。⁠*∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°✿∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠*° `
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catcze · 7 months
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not particularly a request if u don't want it to be but as a fellow wriothesley enjoyer I wanted to share this idea
fontaine is based off of france right? so the thought of wrio being able to speak french and absolutely using that to his advantage to be a flirt has been driving me insane. he would be INSUFFERABLE (especially if his s/o isn't fluent) and I'd be loving every second of it
(also love your works <3 it's the main fuel that's been making me so horrifically down bad for him)
OH ?!!? MY GOD ?!?! HEHAKJDJ FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I CANT NOT !! It's a little short and a little sweet, but i hope you like it!
(Translations listed at the end! I used google translate, so if there's any mistakes, please feel free to correct me!!)
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
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Wriothesley has started to say things to you on the regular— but for the life of you, you can't understand. It starts first on a slow day. You're lounging in his office, reading a random book you've plucked from his shelves. He's just looking through some papers, doing nothing too important.
Then, Wriothesley glances up from his papers, lets his eyes fall on you. "Tu me rends si heureux."
And you're furrowing your brow in confusion, staring at him. It's a phrase form his mother tongue, that much you know. But you're not sure what it actually means. The way his smile is a bit too mischievous, you don't think that he intends for you to understand, anyway.
"I'm... sorry?" You ask. What else can you say? You're pretty sure from his insufferably smug expression that he's not going to tell you what it means anytime soon. At the very least, you're pretty sure he's not shit talking you to your face.
Your eyes narrow.
Probably.
He can see the question on the tip of your tongue, the suspicious glance you cast his way. Wriothesley just chuckles and goes back to the papers on his desk.
"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."
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The next time, he does it as you're having dinner across from each other in the cafeteria. Your meal is halfway done, having been practically shoveled into your mouth. It probably paints an unflattering picture, but you're too hungry to really care. Resting on the table, he's stubbornly gripping your hand in his own, fingers intertwined. Even though it made eating much more difficult, Wriothesley would scowl and reach back for your hand whenever you tried to take it away, so you just considered it a lost cause.
Lost in filling your stomach, you're almost don't hear what he says.
"Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi." Wriothesley mumbles, thumb stroking the back of your hand tenderly.
You narrow your eyes again, a silent question.
Wriothesley just smiles secretively and raises a hand to his mouth, miming zipping up his lips and locking it with a key, then tossing it away. He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. No answers today, apparently.
"Are you ever going to tell me what it is you've been saying?" you ask once you've swallowed your food.
"Mm. Maybe one day. If I feel like it." And he's grinning again— the cheeky one that he wears whenever he one-ups you, that showcases his dimples and his teeth. You kinda want to punch him, but it also makes you remember how handsome he is when he smiles.
"Fine," you grumble, sighing. You busy yourself once more with your food. "Keep your fucking secrets. See if I care." You do. A lot, actually. You're very curious now.
Wriotheley just smiles and lets you eat.
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But he slips up, one evening. To be fair, it's late at night after a hard day's work. Both of you are exhausted— a tangled mass of limbs and sheets on your bed, both of you halfway asleep already.
Your head is cushioned on his chest, nose pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around you. Wriothesley's nose is pressed into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. His breaths are deep and slow, and you can tell without even looking that his eyes are fighting to stay awake. You're no better, though.
Just before you nod off though, you can feel the brush of his lips against your hair. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement," he says quietly, lips brushing the strands in affection. If you had just been the slightest bit more asleep, you might not have even heard it.
But while you may not be fluent in his language, may know little else aside from the most basic of phrases, you recognize that one. It's hard not to, when it's arguably one of the most popular phrases from his mother tongue. Je t'aime. I love you.
Something gooey finds its way into your chest, and the blood rushes through your body as you're overcome by the sheer sweetness of the man you're laying on. Slowly, you crane your neck up to face him, and can see the slight widening of his eyes, the quiet oh shit that runs through his head.
"Is that what you've been saying?" you ask, voice just as quiet as his. Wriothesley hesitates, arms tightening their hold on you.
"... generally, yes."
You smile gently, scooching up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, then to his lips, giggling when he leans down to make it easier for you. You bury your head into his neck then, resting your cheek against him. "I love you too, Wrio."
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Translations:
Tu me rends si heureux. — You make me so happy. Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi. — I can't imagine the rest of my life without you. Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement. — I love you. I love you so much
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nuzzle · 9 months
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baby, the stars shine bright ࿐✩.˚ 「love♡love♡くみゃちゃん」シリーズ
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erwinsvow · 1 month
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hiiiii! okay thought
rafe and shy!reader but she has cuteness aggression so whenever rafe does something sweet she just bites him cause he’s so <3 and how else does one go about that
oh my god.. you spoke to my soul with this one ♡ this felt so intimate to write almost like we're all intruding on a moment btwn them
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sometimes you can't believe rafe is your boyfriend. he's so... so. he's perfect for you, like he was crafted for you specifically, with the way he treats you. gentle, but firm. caring, but still bringing you out of your shell at times. he's the kind of guy girls dream about, and he's yours, and you feel so giddy about it you don't understand how to process it.
it's all the little things added up, the way he memorizes your orders so you don't have to talk to the waiters, the way he always finds a way to bring you into conversations with his friends so you're not the odd one out. he treats you like a princess, makes you feel like one.
you think it's the best when it's just the two of you, like today, alone in tannyhill. curled up in bed next to him, you read your book while he works on his laptop, looking at something he tried to explain to you before you gave up on paying attention.
you're a little enraptured with your book, not even noticing when rafe shuts his screen and puts it away.
"kid. kid."
"hm?" you look up, a little dazed. "oh, are you all done?"
"for now. how's your book?" the way he asks, you feel like there's nothing rafe cares about more in the world than the book in your hands and how it makes you feel.
"it's good," you say quietly, staring up at him still.
"good. read some to me, hm?" he closes his eyes, lying back against the pillow. you feel your heart warm, your face flush. you lean against his chest, opening your book back up and starting to recite while rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder.
"-and elinor, who now understood her sister, and saw to-to she was carried by her eagerness to to be with willoughby again.."
you stop reading, looking up at rafe with his eyes closed. you move your head, teeth biting down gently on his arm. his eyes shoot open, while you giggle against the skin.
"what the fuck, kid-"
"sorry. i couldn't resist. i just love you so much." you bury your head into his chest, your book and its page getting lost in the sheets. you resist the urge to bite his chest too.
"so y'have to bite me? jesus. gonna get you a muzzle." he presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, holding you tighter. "i love you too."
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la-cocotte-de-paris · 1 month
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Le Vertige, 1903
Oil on canvas, 55.2 cm x 40.2 cm
Hubert-Denis Etcheverry (1867-1950)
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frecklystars · 8 months
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IM FUCKIGN SOBBING LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL THEY ARE OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💞💗💗💖💗💞💕💕💓💗💗💝💘💘💕💓💗💗💞
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motelofmermaids · 2 months
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i barely see gentle anakin skywalker… so… i am introducing it to y’all! rots anakin (lord have mercy) ❥ (+18)
anakin skywalker is unpredictable, in more ways than one—always leaving your breath caught in your chest.
he was rough in his voice, he had a strong sense of force. you knew that, he stood tall and confident… been through the darkest of days, the darkness of his life. he was cold because of that, never quite letting anyone in as much as he did with obi-wan. but you were different, and he knew that from the beginning. when you were sitting across from him in the jedi council, being only two years younger than him—the second youngest person to hold a position on the council—he knew you were different. you were soft in all ways. your voice, gentle. your eyes so sweet and smile just as warm when looking at everyone. including him.
you were the one that was there to arrest chancellor palpatine when anakin was at his lowest, fighting the dark side, slowly succumbing to the manipulation. you were there to give him a voice, allowing him to use it when the council fought so hard to refuse. he was head over heels, always around you. he smiled more, spoke up more—joked around, even. and eventually, he was not afraid of you being a little too close, was not afraid of your touch burning his skin—he was not afraid of receiving true love, because he was no longer afraid of losing you like he had lost his mother.
he stood tall and strong, but he was no longer cold and dark. anakin conveyed this in many ways, more specifically when you were beneath him. with a hand on your hip, his other, robotic arm, rested up against your head, his elbow digging into the pillow to hold himself up—too afraid to put too much weight on you, so afraid to break you like fine china.
he’d go slow, so excruciatingly slow. you’d beg out quiet sobs. ‘ani, please… ani, you can go faster,’ and how he loved your sings of utter submission. kissing up your neck, breathing so heavily into your ear. he’d leave you shaking, tears prickling your eyes because anakin was gentle, treating you like the most vulnerable thing as he shielded you with his body, fucking you with such fervor. wasn’t afraid to moan, show you just how much he craved your entire being. you were his religion, the way you whimpered and cried against the ghost of his lips—and god, he loved your lips. loved seeing his thumb trace it, loved seeing his fingers push in, pull out, push in until you were drooling around them.
anakin talks you through it so well, knows what to say to get you clenching around him, eyelashes fluttering as he stares into your pretty doe eyes. cannot help it, he argues, the way your whole body floats and blushes and glows when he calls you a ‘pretty girl,’ when he’s telling you ‘god… fuck—you take it so well, good girl.’ you were irresistible. he did it even when he’d be doing all the work, turning you into a sweet puddle of mess. he’d tell you how good you were doing. he craved the reaction. the praise he gave you, it made him feel powerful.
he’d mumble heavy i love you’s into your thighs, exploring every crevice, mapping out every single detail of a body he wants to engrave behind his eyelids. loved the way your fingers would twitch and pull his hair when his tongue would have you soaring and hiccuping out the most divine sounds. you were an angel, he’d conclude, every time his lips wrapped around your sensitive bundle of nerves.
he cannot get enough you, he never will, and he conveys it in multiple ways. anakin skywalker is gentle.
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