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upthebluess · 4 months

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Opportunities (Arsenal wfc x teen reader) p1

In which you get the chance to train with the first team.

This was it. The opportunity you had been working for your whole life.

Well, not quite. You hadn’t made it yet, but this offer was one huge leap closer.

Your coaches had sat you down after your last training session of the week, and explained to you that next Wednesday evening you were invited to train with the first team. You eagerly accepted, trying to act as nonchalant as possible in that incredibly exciting moment.

Your U16s teammates were the first ones to know, proud smiles appearing on their faces as you told them outside the meeting room. It was a bittersweet moment for them though, because despite being happy for you, it meant another day had gone by with someone else excelling in front of them. You were now closer to professional football than anyone else in that room.

Regardless of the overwhelming enthusiasm that you felt towards the training, it also came with a profound amount of nerves and anxiety.

You expressed your apprehension to your parents, with resulted in them reassuring you that all you could do is your best. That didn’t really help though, because what if your best wasn’t good enough? What if you didn’t even play your best? What if the team got frustrated with you?

Wednesday came round quicker than you’d hoped, and you’d barely had enough time to put extra training minutes in due to a maths exam on Tuesday afternoon. The added stress of your inability to do maths certainly didn’t help, but after all football would always be there as an escape when you needed it.

After giving up on question 11 of your test, you sat with your head on the desk and imagined every possibly scenario that could come from the training. But after 45 gruelling minutes of overthinking, you came to the conclusion that the players were human too. They would make mistakes, they would miss shots and they would lose duels, just like you.

Besides, it was rare that U16 players got the chance to play at this level, so you must be good enough, right?

As you slipped your new boots on (courtesy of your dad when he heard about the news), you took a deep breath as you finished your second and final loop of your laces.

Jonas and a few other technical coaches had come and spoke to you shortly before, explaining that the training wouldn’t be an intense one and that you’d be introduced to everyone briefly before the session. He also congratulated you for the opportunity, and stated that he looked forward to seeing what you could create on the pitch.

The butterflies were back, only this time, you didn’t have any time to dwell on them.

The grass under your feet felt perfectly manicured as you took the taunting steps towards where most of the girls had begun to crowd. Thankfully, you had spotted a girl called Sophia, who you knew from playing up with the U18s a few weeks ago. At least you knew one person.

The rest of the girls made their way to the field very shortly after you arrived, and before you knew it you were stood in a team circle next to Sophia and the one and only Jen Beattie.

Jonas began to speak.

“Ok good morning everyone, today we have two of our academy girls joining us, Sophia from the 18s and Y/N from the 16s.” He began to gesture towards you as he announced your names, everyone giving you small smiles to say hello.

“We are going to go straight into the warm up now and then into small sided matches. Due to international break coming up, we are going to use this session to get a fresh look at everyone ahead of the second half of the season”. The circle was dismissed and the other coaches split you all into warm up groups and ordered lines behind rows of cones carefully placed into the ground.

Steph lead your group and the rest of you followed. You weaved in and out of the cones in different aerobic movements.

You were separated again for matches. You were playing 5 aside matches on what seemed to be 7 aside pitches. Now you were glad that you’d done all that fitness training a few months back.

You were on a team with Viv, Alessia, Amanda and Sabrina. There were two pitches with four teams playing, the remaining one team having a break on the side playing two touch.

Your team (the red bibs) would play against the blues first. Alessia was up top, Viv and you playing in midfield but you were tracking back to defend when necessary to help Amanda.

The whistle blew and the first 8 minute half begun. The blues took small touches to attempt to work their way around your structure, but their shot was a tame one and Sabrina easily rolled it out to you on the right.

Your touch was perfectly out your feet, and you began to push into the space in front of you. You knew you wouldn’t have long on the ball, so when Lina from the other team began to close you down, you fainted left but went right. You did a quick scan and instinctively put a perfectly weighted cross into the box and it landed practically perfectly onto Alessia’s head and into the net.

1-0.

A small and humble smile crawled onto your face as you turned around to run back to position. Alessia chased after you and offered a low high five, which you happily reciprocated. The ball was back at the centre, and before play re begun, Viv breathed out “good ball”.

The game remained at such a high intensity that you felt it was becoming really hard to keep up, but you were reluctant to let it show. You continued to take on players in duels if you felt it would help the team, but knowing to play the pass if more suitable.

The game ended 5-4 to the reds, you coming away with 2 assists: one to Alessia and one to Viv.

Your confidence continued to rise throughout the session due to the applause you received from your teammates and the shock from your opponents as you played pass after pass and won tackle after tackle.

In reality, you were not a stand out player compared to everyone else, but as a 15 year old training with some of the best players in the world, you were pretty damn good.

It felt like your teams turn to sub couldn’t come quick enough. As you made your way off the pitch you immediately grabbed your bottle and leaned against the fence to try catch your breath.

Sabrina and Amanda went straight to kicking a ball on the sidelines, whereas Viv and Alessia came over to where you stood and took a drink each. They exchanged a quick glance and a small bubble of awkwardness formed. Luckily, this was quickly popped with Alessia sparking a conversation. “What age group did you say you played?”

Thankfully you were now able to speak “I’m 15 so Im supposed to be playing U16s but if they don’t have enough players I fill in for the 18s or 21s” you responded with a small smile.

“You’re really good, better than I was when I was your age” Alessia replied. Your small smile grew into a large one. Viv was yet to properly speak to you, but you put it down to her notoriously introverted nature.

Alessia went to join in with 2 touch and you leant down to re tie your shoes. Viv stayed put with her bottle.

“Do you usually do little tournaments like this?” You broke the silence that was paining you.

“Not often. Only when we don’t have any matches upcoming that we need to be reserved for”

You only gave her an understanding nod, not really sure what else to say to that. Feeling a little defeated at her lack of interaction, you stood up to walk over to play with everyone else.

“Were you not nervous today? You seem to have fitted right in. Youth players usually seem a little more shaken than this” Finally, she speaks.

“Um yeah I was beforehand, but it sort of goes away when I play”

“I get that. When I was playing football at 15 I let my nerves get the better of me sometimes and it affected my performance, but you’re handling it really well” Viv gave you a really sincere smile as she spoke, and now it made sense.

Viv had been playing professional football from such a young age that she knew the troubles and baggage that came with it, she was looking out for you.

You all went on to play a heated game of two touch, Sabrina doing you dirty a few times with some dodgy passes practically to the ground, resulting in accusations and laughter.

Once it was your time to return to the pitch, you felt more content than the first time you step foot there. Viv and Alessia had actually made an effort to ask about your life, and you had begun to develop a decent link up on pitch as well.

Your final game was slightly rockier than the others though. The other team consisted of Katie, Vic, Gio, Kim and Manu.

Your body was tiring quickly. You were starting to feel less able to run at speed and less confident going in for tackles, resulting in your head going down and performance dipping.

The game ended 3-3 but you’d missed a few chances that could’ve won the game. You thought you could feel judging eyes pierce through your back as you walked back to grab your jumper prior to heading off the field.

Defying your expectations, you saw that Beth, Viv and Alessia had stood and waited for you before they exited the pitch.

“Well done today, kid. You were hard to get past” Beth said with a skip in her step and a tone of comfort in her voice.

“Thank you”

“Did you enjoy it?” Alessia asked.

“Yeah, definitely. I’m knackered now though and Jonas said this wasn’t even intense” you spoke with a small laugh.

“It’s never supposed to be but we are all so competitive that each game ends up like a World Cup final”. You noted how Beth was such an easy person to talk to, you felt at ease near her and you’d known her personally about 10 seconds.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” Alessia pondered. She seemed like such a lovely person you thought, she had encouraged you all night as you played and was always there to help you up when a tackle sent you to the floor unfairly.

“I’m not sure yet. Depends if I’m invited back and if my school will let me have another day off” you hummed, stopping your walk at the gate as your development coach called your name from the academy entrance.

“Oh you’re still at school. That makes me feel old” Viv breathed, bringing her hand to almost slap her own face.

“You will be. See you tomorrow Y/N” Beth responded, looping her arms around Alessia and Viv. All the girls gave you genuine smiles as you walked in opposite directions.

Today was a good day.

A/N

If this does well I might make it a part 2 or maybe even a story. Tips/requests are welcome, but I’m only comfortable doing platonic ones 🫶

Update: P2 UP NOW!

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc #beth mead #woso fanfics #woso community #vivianne miedema #katie mccabe #womens football #arsenal academy #arsenal #woso imagine #woso soccer

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shinjisdone · 4 months

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To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 10, Finale of S1)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors. Though it is more difficult than anyone can could ever imagine…

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet and crawl your way into Thorfinn’s heart (based on season 1; both platonic and romantic)]

Part 1 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 14 and how he is at that age

Part 2 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 16/17 + headcanons of growing closer (slightly following s1 story)

Part 3 is here - blooming friendship with Thorfinn (slightly following s1 story)

Part 4 is here - Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart as he realizes he does not want you to die

Part 5.1 is here - sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 5.2 is here - other sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 6 is here - meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

Part 7 is here - Canute grieving over Ragnar and Thorkell catching up; Thorfinn leaves you alone for revenge

Part 8 is here - Thorfinn wins against Thorkell; Questioning your bond with Thorfinn

Part 9 is here - Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd; Losing while Askeladd told him the truth of his constant losses

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Only mentioned and used as examples. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Lost Thorfinn, you snapping, confrontation, crying and screaming, Thorfinn kinda losing it, depressive vibes, Thorfinn thinking about death, mentions of blood and snot, zombie Thorfinn, longing, abandonment]

It's Just Like A Burning Torch In A Storm, Like A Little Flower Blooming In A Home...

The weather has worsened as Askeladd predicted.

Even as it was past noon, the sky darkened in a warning as if it were the middle of the deadly night. Snowflakes that started out so lovely of how light they were, were now raining down like arrows and blurring the sight. You could barely see any light come from York and simply trotted after the footsteps your 'leaders' and 'liege' left behind.

You scoffed at the fear of the trails being hidden away by the upcoming storm at this pace, however. Dragging Thorfinn by his wrist would take forever until you'd find shelter.

You had told him to rest his broken arm in the sling but he let it swing with every little limp he managed after you. His good arm was just as lax and he barely let out any signs of pain of how utterly and crushingly tight you gripped his wrist as you dragged him after you. Hunched like a bell ringer, his pants and groans were as quiet as a mouse.

You bit your tongue. He barely paid any attention and just let you haul you around like a dog-

A thump. Thankfully you did not let your grip falter on him as he fell to his knees. Swallowing down a sigh, you turned around and tugged on his wrist. "C'mon. The snow is getting heavier."

Thorfinn hung his head.

"C'mon." You called out louder, tugging at him again. With a dreadfully slow pace, Thorfinn managed to lift one leg after another. After helping him up, you turned around to lead the way.

The same song all over again. The scenery did not seem to change, Askeladd and friends having vanished right under your nose. It felt like you were stranded on a place familiar yet far away. Freezing snowscapes weren't an ucommon sight and they surely were not with only Thorfinn as your company but this caving, this sharp chilliness that felt paralyzing as your heart seemed to give in the longer you dwelled here - as if this place was cursed - it was a first. It was all a first, daunting and frightening. Although, you doubted you could really pinpoint your feelings right now.

You let yourself sigh in frustration as Thorfinn fell once again. The crunching of the snow has become irritating and you snapped towards him. "Thorfinn. I know you can stand. You were running towards Askeladd just moments ago," You hoped it was 'just' moments ago, "Stand up already, don't have me haul you."

All you received was another groan. Another attempt but he kept on slipping. With a growl of your own you kneeled down to hold him under his arms. Heaving him with great effort, you almost slipped yourself as the blonde stayed limb, letting you lift him up with all your might. You felt like a mother with an grown man.

You scolded him again as he simply let himself lean on you once you were up on your feet - before pushing him away and giving him a good shake.

Still, he almsot tumbled down again.

"Thorfinn!" Yelling did not seem to effect him as well as his eyes, black and blue, narrow and swollen from the one-sided brawl, barely took in your figure. His brown eyes looked like they saw right through you, not even on eye level as he still did not walk straight, and it pissed you off.

Even breathing for air was painful, the sharp coldness of this barren, damned place wanting to cut into your lungs with each inhale as if taunting you, knowing that you rely on it now. Now, stuck in this forgotten land as the snow lies down on your shoulders. It's getting heavier and heavier, ringing in your ears as even they felt like falling off your head at any moment. They might as well. The biting wind, though gentle as it was, stealing any feeling you had in your bones.

Sniffing and swallowing your snot, you yanked at his arm again, swiftly turning around and trying to march after the fading footsteps as Thorfinn limped after.

The mere sound of crunching snapped the last strand of patience you so miraciously found within you and before the young man could completely slip again, he fell on his side instead as your fist collided with his face.

"You're a complete idiot!"

Thorfinn barely let out a sound. It made the fire within you rise.

"Askeladd was damn right! You're a moron! A godsforsaken fool! Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!"

You stomped your foot, akin to a child, and Thorfinn wondered why you did not let him feel your ire instead, as he gazed up at you through lidded, swollen eyes. Though he did shakily gasp as you bent down and grabbed ahold of his shirt, holding him up to your level.

"The hell do you think you're doing here?! Huh?! What the hell are you doing here?! Answer me!" You threw him to the ground just as quickly. "You have people here that want you back to a home and you are crawling back to damn Askeladd out of all people! Vile, disgusting, bastard Askeladd!"

Your pants grew louder and louder, hands on your head, as they quickly snapped from brainless inhales to a growling, longing shriek - an animal squealing in pain.

"Do you have any idea - no, 'course you don't! You're a stupid mutt! You never think, never had any brains up there, did you?!" Piles of snow were thrown left and right, partly falling on Thorfinn, on his beaten body and face. He flinched at the contact. You kept on screeching. "You always end up like this. On the ground. Like a dog!" Again, you kicked snow his way, "When you could be somewhere else, somewhere far away that isn't here!"

You snapped your arm back to a direction you believed York was, distressed glare still on your friend, "What the hell was this Leif person talking about?! Iceland?! Helga and Ylva?! They're your family, aren't they?! You have family, Thorfinn, family that is alive and well and in Iceland and they want you back! They love you, Thorfinn!" Retreating your arm, you brought your hands back to your head, pulling on your hair, pulling on the last strand of sanity this man left you. Though you desperately were scowling, you wanted to scowl, your eyes were only wide. Wide and big, distress shining in them as tears welled up in the corners. A choked sob escaped you.

"Anyone would jump up in joy hearing that their family is still alive but you didn't give a damn about what that man had to say. He said he'd wait for you. Maybe he's still there."

The screeching softened the more you talked, misty-eyed as you gazed at anything but him. Lamenting to yourself at this predicament he found himself in. Thorfinn's own eyes widened as best as they could as he managed to sit up. A breathy gasp escaped him. He's never seen you like this.

"Do you have," Sobbing, you wiped your nose, "Any idea how lucky you are to have people in this world...that want you?"

The breathy gasp morphed into sharp inhales, greedily gulping in the painful air as Thorfinn kept staring and staring at you, wide-eyed and afraid. He barely could breath.

"You could be there...but you're not. So answer me when I ask you what the hell you are doing here."

Something...something he reckoned to be akin to ringing wormed its way in his ears alongside your sobs. He saw you hiding your eyes as tears fell down your face - but he wasn't sure, the heavy snow and his lidded eyes made it difficult to truly see you. Thorfinn was not certain if he stooped this low that he had begun seeing things.

Tilting his head down to the snow - his neck couldn't find any strength anymore - he startled at the face his father's dagger reflected. Swollen and broken...dark and bruised, blood and snot oozing out of his bent nose with one of his eye hardly visible and of course, barely able to see with it anyway. Maybe it wasn't the trick of the weather but just his swollen face.

He had seen this face time and time again.

It whined and fussed whenever he looked at it, leaving him no choice but to see its pain and its borderline stupidity. The blood coated on the blade as it cut the guards.

The broken arm that almost earned worse by Thorkell's duel.

The stomach that churned whenever he trotted away like a corpse out of sheer hunger. Looking for anything he could gnaw between his teeth.

The hand that held the torch to the woman's demise. The hair she groomed was soaked in blood later, he recalled.

All that gruesome work...all the murders and the guts on the floor, the stolen goods and impaled heads...all those errands.

It was all this ugly face that he sees.

He sucked in air only to let them out in a wail. He wailed and wailed, louder and louder, his voice cracking as his tongue was tied and not able to form any words. He stared at you as you kept on sobbing.

Thorfinn's scream pierced through the heavy snow and the deafening silence. The cold, the snow, the dark, thunderous sky was nothing compared to this might, to this pathetic pain. It was louder than anything else you'd ever heard, both from the people you've killed and their pleas for mercy, and from the amount of grief he so sparingly shared with you, here and there.

Wiping your tears, you grimaced. Even through this wail that teared your heart apart, you could not help but think back on Askeladd. Oh, how wretched he'd feel this sight would be.

It hurt even more that you'd even agree.

It's Just Like A Lighthouse In Your Hands, Like A Little Flag Flapping In The Sands...

Misty-eyed, you looked down on the mutt wreathing in the snow. In his beaten state he could no longer look down at his dagger, could not form any words of remorse, imploration or grief. It was animalistic braying, as Askeladd described, howling at a moon that won't ever rise. You observed for some more, drying your face completely before falling onto your knees before Thorfinn.

His brown eyes struggled to follow your movements but that did not bother you. Watching him twitch and turn, you scooted closer and opened your arms. Arms that felt to heavy to share any burden.

Your limbs were slow, so woefully slow and heavy as they wrapped around his hunched body. Even as you gently and gingerly pressed him against you, Thorfinn continued to cry out, seeming to not have even noticed your gesture. He seemed to only gulp back for air when the side of his head was pressed against your chest.

This cringing feeling only grew worse at the rapid speed of his heart pounding against you. It was akin a bird's panicked flappings as it tried to misguidedly escape the cage it's been put in. However, you still tried to focus on the lightening aspects. How his gasps ceased and he himself tried to take deep breaths. Your hand found the crown of his head, stroking his grimy hair.

Thorfinn jumped. These calm breaths of yours tickled his head, leaving him shuddering. Gazing into the empty, barren snowscape he pondered if - maybe if, as long as he's not mistaken - you had ever done something so comforting to him before. He thought of it to be comforting at least. The familiarity of it all left him stumped as well as equally frightened. He did not know what to make of it.

Were you always like this? You have never...embraced him like this before. Was it because of him? Did he put a distance between you? Were you hesitant, perhaps reluctant to offer him soothing solace such as this? Thorfinn did not know and he did not remember.

Letting out a confused groan, he ever so tediously turned his head and gazed up to you. Chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you like an intriguied animal.

You cringed slightly at the face before you. No longer stroking his hair, you grabbed a fistful of snow and gently rubbed it against his dark blue cheek. Thorfinn did not resist but only let out a soft croak of pain. Still, his eyes never left you. "I'm sorry. I made the bruise worse." You spoke under your breath. The snow dissolved and fell apart, leaving only your reddened palm to cup and carress his face. You hoped it would soothe the injury.

Wordlessly, you continued to graze the bruises on his face with your cold hand in an attempt to lighten the pain. The blonde, as beaten and silent as he was, fluttered his eyes close whenever your fingers touched the swollen lumps nearby. He'd croak and sigh at the lightest of touches, leaning on you on his knees and face tilted up to look at you. Wiping the blood under his nose caused him to sneeze and you ripped a handful of your cloak off, offering for him to sneeze into it.

"One more time. The blood might dry and clump up your nose." He did so as told, clumps of snot and blood pulled out of his nostrills. He sniffed, inhaling the air. You threw the blood-soaked cloth away. Wiping your hand, your brought it back up to press his head against you, hesitant, but deciding to squeeze him ever so gently. Your face grimaced but you did not want to let him know.

It was almost on command. How he let his head turn around again, his ear leaning against your chest to listen to your heartbeat. His own pounded against his chest, calmly yet alone. Lonely and longingly. Aside from it, he was empty. So, so empty he would have loved nothing more than to just lean against you and sleep. Sleep forever.

"...C'mon, Thorfinn. Let's get ourselves somewhere warm." Obeying your command once again, he looked back up at you with big eyes, before lifitng himself up. You tucked a few loose strands of unruly hair behind his ears before slinging the good arm around your shoulder, with your face close to one another, you marched back to York.

A Floating Moon...You Still Croon?

He still leaned against you, that fool.

It nearly made you smile how he almost snuggled. Yet it was just as pathetic. Pathetic and ironic like the sun that decided to bless you the moment you found York again. The snow below you all but melted away by its rays and left nothing but filthy, grimy roads. You prefered it over the slippery ice.

The town was rather crowded. Carts filled with many goods pulled by healthy, decorated horses and men with respectable blades passed by. The meeting is soon to begin, you believed.

Still, it only made you more hesitant to ask for any help. Anyone you turn to could be some high and mighty ruler of a region or worse, their vessels and guards. The many swinging scabbards at their hips did not ease your anxiety.

The side of the road it was. Better behind some stables in the shadows and out of the sight of the many servants. Thorfinn looked worse for wear and a youngling like you would definitely not be welcomed with open arms. Oh, how awfully right you were.

With another person's weight on your side, you accidentaly bumped into another. Praying they'd simply scoff or ignore you, you immediately bowed your head and apologized once they argued with you.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? Bumping into me, eh? Causing an accident only to rob me from my goods, eh? I know that trick." One approached while you stepped back with Thorfinn in tow, head hanging low. You shake your head, trying to explain that it was indeed a mere accident-

"Don't pull that on me. Look at you, beaten and cold. You two must be poor beggars. C'mere, we know what to do with lot like you." As soon as you were cornered and one pulled his arm back for a punch, Thorfinn snapped his arm forward and shoved the man out of the way. He shrieked, alerting the others. "Hey, now-!" The second one grabbed your shoulder, however, he was swiftly kicked off, legs sweeped under his and falling into the manure below. Thorfinn let out something of an scoff despite his unreadable gaze.

Just as your friend was ready to bash the third man out of the trio, you made a run for it. There was no time to scold Thorfinn - you couldn't afford to earn the anger of some ruler's servant!

A mere barn was found and you snuck Thorfinn to the back behind a few bundles of hay. That certainly was close...but you didn't have the strength to berate him any more.

Instead, you tended to him some more, the best that you could as beggars. The man wasn't nearly wrong. Even now Thorfinn only let out a few hums at each action and touch, nodding meekly at each of your words. It was pitiful and equally heartbreaking.

Only to you though, it seemed.

You gently placed your hand to his forehead and sighed in relieve when not detecting a fever. It didn't appear that he had any symptoms either.

The blonde just leaned into your touch, tired.

You tucked a few unruly locks away. "I have to fetch something...I'll be right back." You snapped up only to be tugged down abruptly. Widened eyes looked down to find Thorfinn grabbing your wrist, stopping you and pulling you down. His swollen lips parted for air and eyes were still unreadable. Lying a hand on his, you tried to offer a smile, "I'll be right back, it won't take long. Just stay here and don't move from your spot."

The grip on your wrist was tight enough that you had to shake it off and leave before he could jump after you.

You missed the way his hand reached for your vanishing figure.

The port was even busier, making your heart race.

It was a mystery to you how you managed to find the short, unassuming man within the crowd of bellowing merchants and sailing boats but there he was, staring at you with wide, big eyes. He blinked a few times; Not quite certain if he should even be speaking to you - with that glare you were offering him.

"I don't know any details," You began, "But I have a request. I'll do what it takes for you to accept it." The man let out a nervous, brief chortle before taking a step forward. His hand scratched the back of his neck. The best he could was bear a crooked grin. "Now, hold on, little one. You, ah," He hesitated, blinked and took a breath, "I saw you with Thorfinn the other day. You are a friend of his, no?"

The man did not miss the way you avoided his gaze.

"And you are a relative of his, right? Uncle...Leif, it was?"

The merchant laughed and his nervous tone quickly shifted to a carefree one. It startled you yet that did not stop him from explaining his situation.

That was all nice and dandy...but you did not have time to listen to old tales.

"Listen, I know where he is. I'll take you to him but for that...you have to take him back to Iceland."

Leif could not deny that your request intriguided him. After all, just like Thorfinn you seemed to be a viking despite being his friend. He never had a viking ask him for a favour.

"I'll do whatever it takes to get him there. I'll personally drag him to your boat if I must, beat him black and blue and throw him into it." Again, Leif waved his hands and hoped his awkward laughter would ease the tension...and make you realize how dramatic your solutions were. It was not neccessary, he'd say, all that was needed was a good talk and listening to each other. To follow one's heart...and he's sure Thorfinn would choose the right answer.

That was enough for you to consider it a deal. Hurrying the older man, you were suddenly stopped as he tapped your shoulder. "I wanted to thank you, young one."

Raising a brow, it only made Leif grin.

"Thank you for being a friend to Thorfinn. He used to be such a sweet and hopeful kid...but now, he'd been through hell. I don't know all of the details but I am certain his life would have been more miserable if it weren't for you. Thank you for always staying by his side."

He continued to speak. You listened attentively, your eyes widened and fearing to tear up yet again at these kind words of this kind man.

Thorfinn could count himself lucky to have people who love him.

Listen To Me, Cleave Your Way Again, Again...

The floor was cold but thank the gods not as cold as the snow outside.

Lonely droplets of water fell down one after another and another and another; Like a melody to the puddle below. Thorfinn would have liked to thank to be alone right now. Alone and with not another soul as his company, as the trio of men chased after him and handed him over to the town's guards. With no resistance, he let himself be thrown into the dungeon.

But he could not find any gratitude in his empty heart to any gods right now.

You weren't back. You said you would be but when he looked up to the shadows hovering over him, he was met with three disgusting grins and not your smile. Bitter, bewitching, bland - it did not matter, he just needed to see your smile again.

You...held him. As if he deserved it.

You deserve to be looked for right now but he could not find any strength nor vigor to get up and escape, as easily as he was capable of it. All his head was filled of where questions on your whereabouts as his heart yearned for your presence.

A guard called out to him, speaking of an visitor. His first thought was you and how you returned to him. As best as he could, he crooked his neck and uttered your name.

Yet you weren't back still. There, sitting on the ground with the brightest smile he could muster was the man who used to tell him stories as a child. He prepared himself before he spoke. "Thorfinn. I've been told of an rowdy beggar being locked up. My gut feeling told me that might have been you, my boy."

Thorfinn sighed in disappointment and laid back down.

Leif licked his lips, taking a deep breath. "...You told me how you suffered for the past eleven years since we lost you, Thorfinn. You spoke of how I wouldn't understand, and I might not, and how...you couldn't find any peace within you as long as that man was still alive."

"...That...has nothing to do with you."

Nevertheless, the man persisted, believing it to be of concern to him. The fighting, the wars, the pain - and of how he swore it to himself to bring an end to it all by bringing him home.

A home filled with warmth and people. Of stories, some true and some silly, of food and water. Of no fear for your life and your future. A place where there was love.

"I swore an oath, you know? To myself and to Thors...that I would bring you back to Iceland. Bringing you back home where you belong, Thorfinn. That is the honor I want to uphold and the least I owe to Thors."

At the utter of his father's name, Thorfinn found the fortitude to sit up. Leif's grin was even more radiant than he remembered as a child. "So, Thorfinn...let us go back home. To Iceland!"

"Home...?"

Home...how tempting that word was. How it rolled off his tongue like stenching poison.

Home...after all this time? Why? Why would he, why should he?

Could he even?

"My boy, you said it yourself!" Leif scooted closer, his grin rivaling the sun, his eyes shining like a jewel. "So we can go to Vinland!"

Thorfinn could barely catch his breath, his empty chest that barely could hold his caving heart now rising. Rising, as he remembered the tale of old times.

A land far in the west, beyond the ocean...a land so warm and fruitful and so far away that no slave drives nor wars could reach it...

"Thors wished to go there, too...and I am sure - no, certain! Certain that if he was still alve, he would have loved nothing more than to travel to Vinland!"

Thorfinn hung his head. Was he...even allowed to hear such things, let alone do them? Take action?

"Home...and Vinland..."

Not being able to hold off his quivering smile, Leif dusted himself off as he got up on his feet. He walked slightly to the end of the bars. "And if you allowed it too, Thorfinn...I invited another companion to join us."

Now standing near the end, Leif opened his palm. Squinting his eyes, Thorfinn made out an hesitant, shaking hand peeking out from behind the wall and gingerly taking Leif's own outstretching one. He gladly wrapped his fingers around it, while the other shyly wrapped theirs around him, after a good while.

Following him, behind the wall your figure appeared - and the young blonde wasted no time to jump to his knees. You turned to him, looking down with a bittersweet smile. Thank the gods, he could see your smile that he so wished for.

Voice shaking with disbelief he called out your name.

"You gave me an heart attack."

My, did you tell him of how he did give you an heart attack when you returned to the spot with Leif and found him to be gone. Of how you told the man that he must be arrested and locked up, like the idiot that he was, and that he'd best be bribed free. Leif took the initiative and kindly asked you to wait.

Grey eyes glanced between the two of you and Leif let out a sigh of relieve, his hands on his hips. Even in this odd, ridicilous and hopeful situation that you wanted nothing more than to put your faith into, you approached the bars and looked down at your friend with the sweetest smile you could muster.

"After all this...could you take me to Vinland?"

Listen To Me, Sail Away Again, Again...A Misty Moon

I'm Missing You...

For the first time since today, you could feel the breeze.

No longer was it biting or howling but simply soothing.

This road, dirty and muddy and the chants of the people going their merry way felt like a dream.

Stepping inside Leif's humble, little boat felt like a dream.

The mention of other possibly kind merchants joining as Thorfinn held your hand - it was wonderful. Once he was out, he embraced you tight, not saying a word. He worsened his broken arm with the never-ending squeeze he gave you and definitely smeared snot and blood on your neck when he buried his head in there, but you did not dare to complain. Your arms wrapped around his body, silently grateful to have him back.

In this mess that you were and the mess that you are, you felt like the luckiest person alive. You, bewtiched by the bliss, did not complain as Thorfinn let go of your hand.

He was as quiet as a mouse, anyway. You let him ponder, you let him pout to himself. But what you could not let happen was him vanishing once again.

As he did on that snowy hill to fight Thorkell.

"Thorfinn!" Yours and Leif's scream aligning with a bird's shriek. The man just got this little boy back and now you were running off as well, searching for him. He thought he finally found Vinland. Finally could honor his own oath and quench this sadness in his heart.

It was all for nothing.

The searching, the bribing, the empty promises on his behalf...your fighting, your murders, tending his wounds and holding him in your heart. All for nothing.

Yells echoed within the meeting hall. You caught a glimpse of brown and yellow make a sharp turn for it. "Thorfinn!" Yet as men tried to flee the hall, you only struggled to get inside, hearing Thorfinn's screams for Askeladd.

He seemed to have gotten in as his figure vanished from your sight and you hardly could hear him. The yelling and screaming ceased - what had happened in there?

"Thorfinn! Thorfinn, come back! Please!"

Not a reply, not a bellow of utter agony either. It was only you, screeching out his name, screeching out to be let go as the many servants and guards dragged you out. Pulling on your cloak, pulling on your hair, your arms, your face.

"Thorfinn!"

You could not see beyond the crowd. It was eerie to not hear anything from him. Now you wished he hadn't been so quiet.

"...What...? You, are dying? You...?"

The men reckoned you to be a beggar, wondering what you are doing here. Breaking into the king's meeting.

"...Don't be so foolish...and stop this nonsense. I give you my life...but...what will you do with your life...after you've taken mine...?"

Your screaming only convinced them of your madness. A mere, hysterical beggar breaking into the king's murder.

"Thorfinn!"

"...Will you take your friend with you...? Or will you do as I did to Björn...you should go, Thorfinn. Go far, far away from here. Somewhere that isn't here..."

You shall be taken away. Hysterical but maybe useful.

"Damn it, come back! Go back to Iceland, Thorfinn! GO BACK TO ICELAND!"

Iceland is not a fruitful or promising land...you shall be useful somewhere else. Somewhere that isn't here.

"...Go, Son of Thors...become a true warrior..."

Do Good, To Be Good...Do Good, To Be Good...You're Not Alone...

For the first time today, you felt the agony that dwelled within your heart, boiling there, wating for this moment.

The faces of the people, the mud of the road pressed into your face, the cuffs on your hands. It was a true nightmare.

Ripped away from the second Thorfinn let go of your hand and did not return to you. You still missed his silhouette. It was gone the moment you were hauled out of the place and thrown into the sea.

Thorfinn did not even answer your cires.

No one would now to a slave.

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anantaru · 1 year

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𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘

the countless nights you have spent in your home, lonely, with dottore preferring his work over your marriage and you ultimately reaching your breaking point.

୨୧ WORD COUNT: 4.2k

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw, fem! reader, oral sex (fem! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, cumming inside, dottore n reader are married, petnames: wife & love, accusing of cheating, toxic relationship, arguments, mentioning divorce.

how did it end up like this?

over the years, how many times did you ask him to stay? just this once. but instead you watched him leave you, leave you behind with your throat tightening after his last words, your unshed tears of sorrow and hatred raging in your core. You felt shame, grief, beginning to understand the only options you had left.

you couldn't live on like this, not with dottore treating you this way. It was natural to cry, to free yourself from the anger and resentments you continued to hold towards your husband, but why weren't your tears coming out? Why was it so unbelievably difficult for you to voice anything, just something in order to feel better.

with this in mind, you balled your fists together in great frustration with your knuckles turning white, the discomfort of your fingernails digging into your palm came secondary. It was clear that something so little couldn't possibly add into the agonizing suffering you already experienced. You wondered if he ever noticed your misery, curious if he indeed watched you dissolve into complete despair, madness.

was your marriage really just of convenience to him? nothing more than a contract which meant nothing to him in the first place other than having someone in his home, who'd look after the house, do the laundry and put up a fake demeanor, so fake anyone would believe that you were a happy married couple, building a future together.

then the thought was there, the voices in your head dueling each other as your lips formed around deeply hidden agony. These moments of abandonment made you wonder if your husband was romantically involved with another person, someone who might've made him happier than you did.

you crossed your arms around your body, stilling your fingers and holding yourself. It was embarrassing, laughable, that you couldn't even remember the last time he had touched you, caressed you, simply looked at you.

that's okay, maybe it was for the better, you did love him but you couldn't force him to hold the same feelings towards you.

silence, nothing more than dead silence began to dwell in you as you sank deeper towards the worst accusation you had come up with, yet why would the confirmation of dottore having an affair actually bring you peace? for some utter disturbing reason you at least, would have an answer to your pleas.

powerless, you decided to choose the only right route you deemed necessary to be taken, that being to pack your things and leave him. The thought of dottore coming home to an empty bed was for whatever reason hilarious to you, not of the reason someone might think, but more because you were doubtful he'd actually care. Maybe he'd be happier and could finally bring his affair to his home with you out of the picture.

clear, that you made up your mind, you walked towards the bedroom which you shared, upon opening the door you felt as if someone grabbed your stomach and squeezed hard, you couldn't believe you were actually pulling through with this, placing your lower lip in between your teeth to bite down and get done with it already.

the smartest thing right now was to take the most important essentials with you, you could always get back and take the rest another time while he was at work.

you grabbed a small suitcase which was stored under the bed, pulling it on top of the mattress before messily throwing the most crucial necessities such as spare clothes and bathroom articles in it, making haste when you zipped the suitcase together, taking it with you.

as luck would have it, in that moment you noticed the front door opening with your husband walking right past it, wiggling out of his jacket before placing it on top of a drawer together with his mask.

your body was stiff upon realizing, anxiety took a hold of you with the thought of you fainting being a far better outcome than him deducting that you were indeed leaving right now. Your pulse beat a hundred to the minute when dottore turned around at last, spotting you with the suitcase in your hand while he closed the front door to your home.

"you going somewhere?"

in your confused and scared state of mind you couldn't think nor process the words that just left his lips, an open mouthed stare leaving you dumbstruck in front of him. The grip on your suitcase tightened with it already paining your hand. Dottore's gaze was intimidating, drifting to your face with his brows slightly rising, "i asked you something."

it couldn't have gone all according to plan, you figured, chewing on the soft inside of your cheeks before trying to appear more confident in your mannerism, shifting in your stance with your legs feeling numb, "yes." you kept your body turned towards him, in an attempt to show that you were dead serious with your response. "yes, what?"

"yes, i'm leaving."

considering the possible outcomes you had played over in your mind, none of them seemed to become reality as dottore didn't talk back, more so was he quiet, silent but with his eyes still fixated on you. His face was tired, something in his expression gave you the feeling that he was annoyed, displeased as he sighed out. "i have to go back to work, we'll talk about this later."

you watched in horror as he withdrew, again, not even putting the slight minimal effort into discussing things with you. It was clear that the 'we'll talk later' response was only a filthy lie to get away from this uncomfortable situation again.

as you watched him grab his jacket from the drawer you took all the anger and frustration in your hand, deciding that you had about enough of it.

"i'm going to be gone once you're back."

you repeated yourself, deciding to put pressure behind your legs as you walked towards the front door, still wobbly on your footing yet that didn't hold you back this time, with dottore obviously right next to the doorframe. His arrogance was continually warped by his passions and experiments, dottore was aware that his request was unreasonable, and yet your response angered him regardless.

"you're not leaving."

at the silence, you turned away aiming to simply walk past him yet as you set out to do so, dottore quickly got a hold of your wrist, forcefully spinning you towards his glare.

"how often do i have to repeat myself?" the scenario you were currently witnessing, the one you were facing, somehow pushed you to stand up for yourself yet when feeling his touch on your hand, his eyes on your person and that he actually looked at you right now, the emotions in you folded.

"do you love me?" a thick veil of panic shrouded in you upon realizing what you just hit him with, your voice broke in midst your sentence as your vision became blurry. Dottore carefully let go of your wrist before rubbing his face and eyes with his hands, oblivious to your saddened expression, "why would you ask me that?" ignorance seemed to be the bottom of all your arguments, the hostility in his voice was clear as day.

"i want an answer or i'm gone." in all seriousness, putting him in front of an ultimatum didn't seem like the optimal route to take, but at this point you simply couldn't fathom what was going on in this marriage and were it all went wrong in the first place. "is that pricy ring on your finger not enough proof of my love to you?"

whether it was the growing anger in your mind or the gullibility of his response, you resumed to stand your ground. "this ring is the last proof of this failing marriage." you spat, holding the back of your hand in front of his face with your ring prancing on your ring finger.

the desperation was in your voice with each step forward into the conversation, your heartbeat continued to grow stronger, pounding in your ears.

dottore clicked his tongue, the additional loudness of your reasoning infuriated him further as he yet again, got a hold of your wrist to push your hand off his face. "i do not have the time to possibly discuss this with you right now." he made sure to punctuate his last words particularly well, so well they somehow sounded threatening as his intimidating aura filled the room.

any other day you would've agreed to whatever he was saying, despising whenever you would argue with each other, lastly letting it go and acting as if he didn't treat you like absolute dog shit. However, not tonight, you already came this far, you could very well go all in now, it didn't matter anymore and it wasn't certain to know when the next chance of having him tied to an actual conversation would happen again.

"is there someone else? because if so just spit it out already."

dottore looked at you with a dumbfounded expression before he had to stop himself from laughing, because right now, in this very moment, in his eyes, if anyone had something to be ashamed of, it certainly wasn't him. "you're ridiculous, unbelievable." his mocking tone provoked you, asking yourself if the oh so smart harbinger of the fatui hadn't even realized how poorly he had treated you all this time.

"you barely talk to me anymore nor do you touch me or even look at me, how can you possibly not understand where i'm coming from?"

dottore opened his mouth in protest but decided to not speak back nor reply with anything nasty in return. He studied your mannerism and realized how distressed you were with your voice only enhancing said feature on you. In truth, he never considered a world where he'd have to live without you, work has swallowed him in completely and he just couldn't set his mind onto other things.

"what do you want me to say? you know how important my work is." most of the time, dottore was cutting himself off from anything that could possibly hurt him, yet upon getting the taste of your infuriating accusation of him being unfaithful, his emotions grabbed a hold of him, entering his thoughts with anguish forming all over his face. To protect himself, his mind normally took a step back whenever he felt slightly overwhelmed, overly stressed or targeted.

you didn't speak anymore, you wanted to leave as it seemed like this argument would end like any other argument before, leading into nothingness, just emptiness and pointing fingers towards each other.

"this is going nowhere." you blinked back a tear, your stomach grasping together as if someone had teared you open from the inside.

"i'm done with this marriage, let me pass through." you continued in a broken voice, you felt weak on your knees as dottore intentionally blocked the door from you, shaking his head. The grip on your wrist loosened up, with him ultimately drawing his hand to your fingers to intertwine them with his own. You let him, curiosity holding a significant grasp on you.

"don't go now."

you didn't expect him to beg, it was beneath him, really. The only somewhat affectionate thing dottore could get out, and not to mention, push past his giant ego, was a little change in his voice, it'll become smoother and more relaxing to listen to.

"i haven't realized how much i had neglected you." his free hand wandered towards your face, placing it softly on your cheek before wiping yet another escaped tear away with his thumb. The lifeless, despairing look in your gaze wasn't going away after a single sentence from him, it sounded sincere yet you grew more tired, your muscles were sore and aching.

"i have never been unfaithful to you, i want you to know that." without finishing his sentence, dottore had begun to run his hand into your hair, slightly tightening his grip on you before pulling you closer until your lips were merely a few inches away from one another, "you're everything to me." his hand let go of yours, placing your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger when drawing you close to his cold lips, adding a subtle kiss on you.

each movement of his carried a sense of strong control and authority, something about the way he was slightly smiling into the kiss was having you short of breath, with your skin tingling at the long forgotten play of intimacy. You melted into his embrace, sighing out with the worries dissolving in your body.

at this, you decided to pull away, your face located with warmth as his expression became flustered, with his cheeks fading a small hue of redness. Your hands rested on his chest, his red eyes slightly spent from the lack of sleep he must've gone through. "stay here with me." the way he said it without a single doubt in his voice, each word was intently calculated and polished before leaving him.

"i thought you had to go back to work." the question was warranted, yet you were content, the increase of affinity had your body excited, electrified. "pierro can wait, i prefer to stay here with my wife." he cherry picked his words with clear intention as you laid your head on his chest and hugged him.

delicately, dottore slid his hands over your hips before embracing you back, placing his chin on top of your head to stay like this for a moment. It wasn't when you decided to look up, the memory of your kiss making your insides warm with you leaning forward to place another tender smooch on his lips, savoring it.

dottore's touch softened at your submission, a blush igniting from his face with him lovingly taking in everything you gave him right now. "come with me." with the sudden whisper he voiced, he smiled deeply at you. You nodded, allowing him to take you, hold your hand in his when you walked towards your shared bedroom, nostalgia feeding into you.

on this night, the silence was comforting, welcoming, even the chilly room couldn't shake off the feeling of safety in your heart. His hands on your body were a welcoming sensation, you didn't even realize how much you had missed him on you. You carefully helped each other dispose of your clothing, garment after garment falling down the cold floor as you lowered yourself down on the soft bedsheets with him following suit.

consequences were undoubtedly going to come your way, nevertheless, you were happy, thrilled, that dottore did for one, always remain faithful to you and second, was now, giving in the desire to touch you, caress you and please you.

no longer could you resist him, spreading your legs as he placed himself right in between you with his erected member resting on top of your aching cunt. With each passing moment you melted into him, his lips peppering your neck with wet kisses while drawing south, nibbling on your tender skin downwards. The room was dimly lid, yet you could clearly view his red eyes on you, they were dominant, starving.

your flesh erupted with goosebumps with his first of many kisses on your warm clit, the tingling nerves anticipating further care from him. Dottore prodded his tongue out, flicking it over your sensitivity with your nipples hardening on sight. Your inner voice finally kept quiet for once, letting you enjoy the newfound intimacy with your husband.

dottore proceeded to work his tongue on you while also placing his middle finger against your hole, you trembled when he pressed his digit into your sex. Your significant wetness was coating him, swapping his tongue inside your folds before sucking the flesh in, pulling away. His mouth explored your every inch, his nose messily bumping against your soft mounds with your hand digging into his hair, keeping him there.

your lips slumped into mindless pleading, with dottore obliging, knowing full on well what you needed. "your taste love, i missed it." he made no attempt to not make your cheeks rise up with heat, to have you writhe underneath him, not to mention with you succumbing to all of his attention on your neglected cunt. He continued to noisily suckle and lick around your womanly folds, adding another finger to split your hole, making sure to have you properly prepared and wet for him.

the surges of your arousal on his fingers made it clear that you were close, so close you were practically dancing around your release. "come for me." dottore panted with his warm breath tickling your bundles, his voice was low, patient, pushing his fingers back and forth your heat with his tongue delving back in and lapping up your essence.

your toes curled as you dug your hands into his hair, arching your spine off the mattress when you came on his tongue, finally being grazed to experience the sensation of an intense orgasm you were neglected from. Dottore waited for you to come down from your climax, pumping his fingers in and out your quivering hole before pulling away, brushing the residue slick off his chin.

"you were amazing, dear wife." his voice was tinged with both lust and carelessness, drawing out sloppy kisses on your belly, then breasts. You let him explore and spoil you, tenderly wrapping his lips around the erected nipple while fondling with the other one, not leaving anything unturned on your body.

dottore wanted, no, he needed to make it worth your while, crossing his wet muscle over the bud while circling it around, featherlight, before hollowing his cheeks on your mound of flesh, pulling away. You were beyond turned on, more than that, drawn to him in ways you never were before.

those feeling must've developed from the abandonment you had suffered from, coming from when dottore never actually was at home, and if he was, it was merely to take a nap or shower.

you appreciated how attentive he was tonight, allowing you to fully focus on yourself while he was indulging in you, giving your breasts a final kiss when turning his face up, your body flushed to his. No longer did you have to mourn his absence, clamping your arms around his waist as he towered over you, taking a hold of your cheek with one hand to gather you into a kiss.

"i need to feel you."

the thought put an extra amount of excitement in you, urging you to pull him closer, kiss and taste him on your tongue.

his painfully erected member was begin to hurt him, in truth, dottore was very much frustrated himself, he had discarded his own personal cravings with his days merely containing to wake up, go to work and sleep in what happened to look like an endless circle without a way to escape.

with that, he placed his attention on you, not only being able to hear your heightened breathing, more so feel your chest heave up and down in thick spurts, his gaze falling down south in between your bodies with his stiff cock on top of your glistering folds. Dottore lightly nipped on your lips while lining himself up with you, you held your breath, the sigh causing your jaw to involuntary gape open.

"don't keep your eyes off me." his eyes expressing delight.

shakily exhaling, you welcomed him in you with your walls falling around his girth beautifully. Dottore had his head on your neck, emanating a deep groan which broke free from his throat upon melting into you.

this time, his entire body pushed into yours, rubbing his hips into your heat when his lips leaped over your sensitive neck, a slight hint of his teeth grazing on your flesh.

dottore swallowed a laugh when hearing you cry out, he kept touching you featherlight, gently, enjoying the sounds that rose from you with the way his hips worked on your sweet cunt. He held your gaze, your eyes emerged with desire, lust, sensing nothing but your hammering heartbeat on his chest.

his lips slightly parted after every thrust, he knew he needed this as much as you did, taking advantage of the momentary peace to try to catch his breath with your nails holding onto his back, branding his skin with crescent formed love buds. His little words of admiration sounded put together, well thought out and flooded directly to your aching core.

it's that word, that simple word that would affirm you were his, four letters, one syllable, when he called you his wife after carefully placing his lips on yours, you were certainly the happiest person alive.

your hands flew over his ever so pale skin, distinctively eliciting the scratched red marks and making them glow. Dottore pulled your hand in his own, placing it above your head before increasing the rhythm on his hips, steadier, deeper, not to mention closer to your release.

"you're gonna make me cum", you told him softly, letting your eyelids fall shut at his punctuated ruts, "i know, love, i can feel you." his words turned into soft groans, drawing them out in this erotic situation, "how do you want me?" his nose nudged yours fondly, a twinkle in his eyes, comforted by the slick and warmth surrounding his length.

"i don't care, just make me cum please." you squirmed with your voice untying a sudden urgency. A low rumble emancipated from dottore when hearing your words, he treasured the trust you continued to have, not to mention when you left the choice in his hands alone, fully offering yourself to him.

with such invitation and soft spoken words, dottore briefly tightened his hands around your knees, bumping them against your chest without him ever slipping out of your hole, keeping himself there with now being able to reach further. The intentions behind his movements were evident, his features relaxing before he established the newfound pace on your body.

within the whirlwind of emotions, you desperately clammed down on his shaft, with this position your heart was racing, dipping into the mattress with soft gusts of breath departing from your lips. The raw drag of him was somehow more extreme, pursing your mouth when you felt a bead of sweat going down your collarbone.

you wordlessly begged him for your release, his hips bucking and developing in rough shudders when you grasped around his girth, the fine hair sitting off your neck before you rose your spine from the mattress, welcoming your climax on your body.

"you're mine." the soft hearted sentence fell on deaf ears, feeling the resistance in your tiny hole when he pushed himself through the tightness, a form of relief in sight. "i love you too." the whines and moans you couldn't stop yourself from making, pulled out of you in loud bursts, enough to have you desperate, aching.

you felt yourself seize in between rough touches, with you finally coming undone around his cock, the simultaneous pulsating torment of his stiff member embraced the overstimulation in you. You cried out as his hips were relentless, jerking desperately into you with him twitching violently. It was almost, not quite but more than he could take, the sensation radiated and melted from his chest while transferring down to his cock.

you stretched your arms out to encircle him in an embrace with dottore obliging, savoring the taste of you climaxing together, spilling his thick seed over your insides with the warmth taking a hold of your whole body, his face intent with concentration as he emptied himself completely.

appealed with your response, dottore kept himself buried in you, desire fought him for a taste, a kiss, decending upon you with his lips taking yours. Your delicate hands were digging into his hair, it felt surreal, he was still here with you, to finally have his touch on you for this long, his body and his attentiveness.

looking down in between your bodies, your skin sheened with sweat and filthy fluids, you were floating, body and soul satiated and pleased with his caring actions touching you deeply. For a long time, you do not move, his cock was gradually softening as dottore pulled out with his seed oozing from your hole, slicking up everything along your behind.

there were still loose ends to this marriage, arrangements that had to be added or removed for you to work on together. "i will do everything in my power to make you happy." there was silence after his declaration, putting his hand on top of your chest to memorize your heartbeat before drawing his breath out slowly.

"i love you." his words felt like a desirable distraction throughout it all. Was it reasonable to stay? to listen to those twisted assurances? your wandering eyes stilled on your husband, with him catching wind of the hidden intent behind your expression. You held your tongue, one second, two seconds, before offering him a response at last.

"i love you too."

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #dottore smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #dottore x you #fatui harbingers #genshin impact dottore #genshin images #tw toxic relationship

1K notes · View notes

honeybeefae · 1 year

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Pretty Little Tears (Rhysand x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY NINE: TEARS

Summary// He knew you could take him deeper. You were doing so well. It was taking all of your strength not to throw up as Rhys forced himself down your throat more and more, but when those tears started to roll down your face, smearing your makeup, he felt something primal stir deep inside of him. And he wanted more.

(This is definitely one of the shorter fics for Kinktober as well as ending in an ambiguous way, I hope you guys still like it. I’m not 100% confident with it but I’ve edited it to hell and back so I think this is the best I am going to get. Enjoy! :))

WARNINGS: 18+, Smut, Degradation, Crying Kink, rough BJ, gagging

Your mate had been staring at you all night, the risque dress you were dawning barely leaving anything to the imagination. It was something you saved only for your visits to the Hewn City as it helped you get into your role of the wife of Rhysand, ruler of the Court of Nightmares.

It was a part you were new to, trying your best to match Rhys’s mask. The hardest thing was watching, and sometimes participating, in dueling out punishments for the wicked people that resided here. A part of you would feel guilty hearing their pleas and cries but knowing what they did, the innocent people who they tortured or hurt, made it easier to swallow.

Tonight was no different, though you had not heard any report of trouble so far. Everyone was dining and dancing in somewhat peace. Mor was off to the side with Cassian chatting about something, Azriel dwelling in the shadows, while you danced within the arms of one of your cousins as your mate watched from his throne above.

“You look lovely tonight, Y/N.” Your cousin, Dephren, commented. He was a head taller than you, with hair just like yours, but as wicked as they came. You would even say he could rival Mor’s father, Keir, in his attempts to gain power in the court. “I am glad to see our High Lord is keeping you in good health.”

“As am I.” You said curtly, glancing at Rhys briefly as you twirled across the floor. “I have much to be grateful for from him.”

“That you do, cousin. I must ask, though, are you sure you are satisfying him?” He asked, his eyes full of cruel mirth. “I would never insult you but I do worry about my Lord, and I as well as many others truly wonder if you are the right person for him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the other vultures of the court leering at you and eavesdropping on the conversation. It must have been talked about beforehand as someone had called away Rhys so that he was not within earshot to hear the slander they were saying.

You suddenly found yourself floundering like a fish out of water, the facade you put up cracking just the slightest bit, as Dephren spun you round and round.

“I will take your silence as answer enough.” He smirked, tightening his grasp on your hands as the music finally came to a stop. Everyone started politely clapping, gearing up for another song as your cousin bowed mockingly in your direction. “I think Remia would be a better fit for him, she certainly seems to be able to keep his attention.”

Remia was the daughter of one of Keir’s closest allies and a great beauty in the Hewn City. She was also as vicious and hungry as the rest of them, willing to follow whatever orders it took to rise above and look down on the people below. You knew your family was bitter about your new life, about how their weakest child found herself mated to the High Lord himself and cut all ties to her family.

However, you didn’t expect them to try and cast you aside so brazenly. It had you cursing at how naive you were, how you thought there was no threat to you anymore now that you were happy and loved.

His words cut through your skin like a knife as you turned to look at your mate, mouth tightening at the egregious display of affection Remia was showering him with. Mor and Cassian had picked up that something was amiss, picking up the tail end of your cousin's words and following your eyes to Rhys.

Before you could turn around and say anything to him, Mor was at your side with a glare that could turn a man to stone. “How bold of you to say the things you do about Rhysand’s mate, Dephren.” She hissed, placing herself in front of you. “Perhaps you would like to speak louder for him to hear?”

“Mor.” He nodded, forcing a polite smile. “I meant no to disrespect to Y/N, I assure you. I was simply pointing out a concern most of us have, isn’t that one of her duties?”

She opened her mouth to lay in on him but you put a hand on her shoulder, squaring your shoulders and stepping around her to stand toe to toe with him. You could sense Rhysand in your mind wondering what had drawn the crowd but you shut him out. This was something you needed to handle yourself.

What you said next, how you handled this test of disrespect, would dictate how everyone saw you. You needed to be equally as fearsome as your mate if you were going to rule beside him.

“My duty, Dephren, is not for you to question.” You challenged loudly, your voice echoing off of the mountain walls for the entire court to hear. “I can assure you that your High Lord is very satisfied with the way I fuck him. Not that it is any of your business nor whatever whore you’ve sent his way to try and distract him.”

Rhysand appeared behind you, darkness surrounding him as Dephren shrunk back in fear. You smirked as one of his hands slunk around your waist and pulled you into his side, his nose dipping into your hair as you refused to break eye contact.

You had everyone's attention now and while as before you would have shrunk back from it, now you wore it like a crown. They should be the scared ones and from the looks on their faces, it seemed that they realized what monster they awoke.

As you stood straighter and held your higher you could feel your mate's approval. Not only was he proud of you but you could feel his caress in the back of your mind, and could hear the lustful thoughts that flickered through his mind as you took a couple of steps forward. He liked this version of you.

“I find it funny cousin that you call my relationship into question when I highly doubt your wife could say the same about your performance, don’t you think?” You taunted, raising your eyebrow as his face turned a fierce shade of red.

The people behind him started to whisper and chuckle while his wife took a huge gulp of wine, trying to remain invisible. You weren’t done humiliating him though, he needed to be an example to the rest of them.

“What’s the nickname she gives you to her friends? Minute man?” The question was rhetorical as your smirk grew, hearing Rhys’s voice in the back of your mind.

I didn’t know you could be so cruel, Y/N. This poor man is about to throw himself down the side of the mountain if you continue any longer.

Hopefully, the lesson is almost learned then. I would hate to have to repeat myself.

His fingers tightened on your hip in approval, satisfied to watch you work. Dephren was a shadow of the man he was ten minutes earlier as you left your mate’s hold to stand over him. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did but you didn’t want to feel guilty now. He deserved it.

“Kneel.” You commanded, voice velvety smooth. It was only one word but it held so much power and control you couldn’t help but feel drunk off of it. “Kneel and apologize and I might forget this conversation ever happened.”

And to your surprise, he wasted no time in complying with your request. His knees hit the floor hard as he knelt at your feet, lowering his head in submission.

“Please, Y/N, forgive me.” Dephren squeaked. “I beg of you.”

You turned to Rhysand, tilting your head in question to see what he thought. He gestured towards you before crossing his arms over his chest and smiling darkly, enjoying the show.

“Just remember, my dear Dephren, who I am.” You warned, your voice like ice as you glanced around at the rest of the spectators. “As shall the rest of you. I do not forget and the next person I hear, or even think, of such slander, I shall have their tongues and their minds.”

Your skirts swished around your feet as your turned and grabbed Rhys’s hand, letting him lead you to the throne and adorn his lap as Dephren swiftly stood and disappeared into the background. There was a beat of silence before the music started back up and everyone returned to their respective places.

It was taking all of your concentration to control your breathing and not break out in a sweat as your adrenaline came crashing down. You didn’t recognize the woman saying those things as you replayed it over and over in your mind. It was as if you had been possessed by someone else.

You were wonderful, Y/N. You had me utterly entranced with your performance.

His hands grazed up your bare legs, catching on the sheer fabric as he reached the crest of your hips. It was a delicate touch that sent the filthiest thoughts into your head. You craved more, your breathing evening out as he went higher and higher until he caressed the side of your breast.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as you turned to look into his violet eyes, your face flushed with desire. You were as bewitched by him as he was with you, licking your lips hungrily as he scowled at Keir who was waiting for the two of you to notice him.

“What is it now?” Rhysand snapped, holding you tighter as you began to kiss up his neck. You usually weren’t one for huge public displays of affection but with what happened tonight, it was like you were a new woman.

A hungry, aching woman.

As Keir began his question about one of the other people in the room you tuned him out, your sex slickening as you began to grow impatient at Rhys’s lack of attention toward you. His hand still rested on your hip, rubbing small, enticing circles as he droned on and on.

It was only after a few minutes you decided to take matters into your own hand. You did not know if you were feeding off the raw power you had just realized you held or if it was simply adrenaline, but whatever it was it had you worked into a frenzy.

Rhys…

Though his eyes never left Keir's, he tensed ever so slightly under your touch. You knew you had his full attention. While maintaining a bored expression on your face, you began to show him all the multiple times you had pleased him. It started off with just small glimpses of skin and soft moans but as your impatience grew, you sent him much more vulgar things.

And when you whispered into his mind just how wet you were with the picture of you exploring yourself, you felt his resolve snap underneath you like a twig.

“Do I not have you here to maintain order while I am away, Keir? Are you not able to handle things?” Rhysand snarked, raising an eyebrow as you both stood abruptly. “You bore myself and Y/N with these meaningless conflicts. If you cannot control them by yourself perhaps your leadership needs to be questioned.”

Keir immediately bowed his head while muttering apology after apology. “I did not mean to bore, my lord, nor Lady Y/N. I was simply-”

Rhys clicked his tongue, silencing the steward swiftly. “And yet you continue to do so. We will be taking our leave now but I will be returning within the next few days. I suggest you make sure everyone is on their best behavior…otherwise you might find yourself on the edge of the sword.”

“Yes, of course.” He replied with gritted teeth. Mor, Azriel, and Cassian were already gone by the time you were leaving the grand room. You smiled coyly at your mate, licking your lips as he pulled you flush against his body.

“Do not play modest with me, darling. I saw every single thought in that pretty, filthy head of yours.” Rhys smirked, already half hard from just remembering them. “If you think you are getting off easy tonight you are sadly mistaken.”

“I don’t want you to be easy tonight.” You cooed, gazing at him through your lashes. “I want you to make me scream so loud that everyone in the Hewn City knows who was right tonight.”

His eyes darkened and before you could blink you were plunged into darkness, appearing in your shared bedroom moments later. You gasped when you were shoved roughly against the door but his lips smothered yours before you could say anything else.

You melted into him, your tongue dancing with his while your hands found purchase in his hair. It was soft against your fingers, which tightened into fists when he wedged his thigh between your legs. The friction was heavenly as you had soaked through your panties, your dress allowing him easy access.

“Is that all for me?” Rhys purred into your ear, biting down on your lobe before kissing and nipping his way back to your lips. You nodded, too out of breath to say anything, to which he smiled devilishly. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already speechless.”

The air around you was thick with need as you grabbed one of his hands and placed it on your breast, your hips rutting against his leg. “Are you just going to talk or will I see any action from you, my lord?”

Rhysand couldn’t help but grin at your words. Even pinned against the wall, pussy dripping for him, you found a way to smart off to him. It was one of the things he loved you for, the fire within you.

With one push off the wall, he separated your bodies and crossed his arms over his chest. “Take it off. Now.”

Your heart fluttered at his change of tone, fingers trembling in excitement as you started to pull down the straps of your dress. You knew that your words had awoken that dark, sadistic streak he kept carefully locked away. It was something you didn’t get to see often but tonight you wanted it.

You wanted him to use you for pleasure, to let him so thoroughly fuck you that there was no doubt left that only you could bring him to that level of ecstasy. It seemed that Dephren’s words had indeed got under your skin but hopefully this would ease it.

Rhysand knew it as well. He had wanted to torture the greasy, traitorous man as soon as he pieced together what happened but you took over effortlessly, showing everyone in that room who you could be even though his words made you question.

His cock throbbed at the memory of you standing over Dephren, at just how utterly sexy you were at that moment.

As you let the dress fall into a pool of silk at your feet, the cool breeze making goosebumps rise on your arms and your nipples harden, the wetness between your legs only grew. It felt like it was dripping down at this point.

“Kneel.” He commanded, beginning to undo the strings of his pants while you immediately sunk to your knees. You bit down on your lip as he put two fingers under your chin, tilting it up upwards at him. “Such a good girl.”

One of his hands gripped his thick, heavy cock while the other gathered your hair into his fist. You swallowed in anticipation, both of your hands on your thighs as you opened your mouth wide for him. Just as he liked it.

Rhys growled as he slapped the head of his dick on your tongue, coating your lips with the precum that had already gathered at the tip before he thrust into your mouth with no warning. You instinctively gagged, your throat tightening around him while your hands flew to his thighs to steady yourself.

“Just like that, darling.” He grunted as he slowly fucked your mouth, his balls hitting your chin with every thrust.

You followed his lead as much as you could, your scalp burning as he tugged and pushed as he pleased. His cock was hard to fit fully in your mouth but you did your best, licking the underside every time he pulled out to drive him crazy.

Drool was escaping the seal of your lips around him, running down your chin and onto your bare chest. The moonlight shone against it, catching his attention and spurring him on even more as he truly used you to get off.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it Y/N?” Rhys taunted, his pupils blown wide in lust as you gargled around his length. “You crave to be used like this, for my pleasure. You want me to treat you like the secret whore you are.”

A nod was all you could muster as he pushed further and further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and cutting off your airway. It made you lightheaded which only seemed to enhance your feelings, one of your hands dropping to your cunt so you could thrust two fingers inside.

He laughed deeply at your desperation, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe from how far his cock was in your mouth. It was almost all the way in when you started to push against his leg in a warning. You were going to have to come up for air soon.

However, he knew you could take him deeper. You were doing so well. It was taking all of your strength not to throw up as Rhys forced himself down your throat more and more, but when those tears started to roll down your face, smearing your makeup, he felt something primal stir deep inside of him. And he wanted more.

With an audible pop, he pulled himself out, your lungs burning as you coughed and sputtered. You were still slightly dizzy from the lack of oxygen when two hands hoisted you up and turned you so that you were facing your mate.

“Look at you…” Rhysand praised, smearing your mascara underneath his thumb as another tear ran down your face. “Perfectly ruined, all for me.”

“Only for you.” You whispered hoarsely, closing your eyes when his hand curled around your throat assertively.

The sight of you teary-eyed and wrecked almost made him cum in his pants. You were wrapped around his finger, ready to give him whatever he wanted without realizing that the only thing he did want was you.

“Let’s see if we can wreck you even further. Can you do that for me? Can you take more?” He asked you, wanting to make sure you were okay even if he was about to bust at the seams.

You kissed him softly while grabbing his free hand and guiding it towards your sex, jumping when he brushed against your clit before pulling back so that you were looking into his eyes.

“I told you I wanted you to make me scream so loud they could hear me in the Hewn City. My mind hasn’t changed, Rhysand.” You smirked, letting him sprawl you out on the bed behind you and spread your legs impossibly wide.

Rhys crawled on top of you, kissing your forehead once, before making his way down your body. “Darling, I’m going to make you cry until the skies themselves begin to weep.”

And with one last smirk, he began to feast on your body until the very ground shook from your screams of pleasure.

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thedarlingdearestdead · 7 months

Text

Medic:

Summary: Reader is a Jedi medic in a clone wars battle. She loses a young patient and has a traumatic time. Anakin comforts her.

Warnings: None, violence, blood.

Word Count: 1,690

You weren't often deployed into battle, you had barely finished your training. But, you supposed, the Jedi were fairly short-staffed at the moment.

You never wanted to be a soldier, had always struggled with wielding your saber, but your intuition with the force was undoubtable, so you had been taken in as a student, and studied to be a medic. What the masters saw in you was a meditative, quick learning mind. And it was true. So you were not suited to the war.

Desperate times however, brought desperate measures. While the troops had gone on the offensive, you had been tasked with setting up the hospital area near the sheltered back of a cave. Not many of you healers were available for this particular conflict, it was a surprise attack by the Separatists, you had barely stopped for the past two days, planning and prepping in a state of emergency. Now that you were here, all you could do was wait for the bodies to come pouring in. Bloodied, burned, dismembered. It wasn’t that you were faint of heart, you knew what you were getting into when you took on this position under Master Che, but the extent of the fighting, the amount of death was overwhelming you.

The anxiety of war was not one which you enjoyed. Especially not when he was out there fighting too.

Anakin was unaware that you had been called up to this particular battle. So he fought and led the fray as he normally would. Cutting down all in his way with a fury and determination which made him indestructible. Or so he liked to think. That was how the two of you had met. A posting at the hospital wing on Coruscant had bought you into his path. He was practically a regular, always getting himself injured in the most ridiculous and reckless ways. Burns from playing with speeder mechanics, from an overenthusiastic lightsaber duel with students twice his age. Large cuts and scrapes from jumping off things, or climbing things, or through things. And each time he would come in with a smile, sit down and let you do what you needed to do. Make you laugh with his stories, entertaining you endlessly and distracting you from your real work.

That was at the beginning, before things got serious with the war.

When it broke out, when the attacks started, he came to you, broken, and not just physically. You patched him up and the two of you found solace in each other. One bright spark in an increasingly dark world.

The sound of explosions and shouts reached you and you shook with anticipation, wiping your sweaty hands on your apron. Then the bodies started to roll in.

It wasn't long before the tent was filled with the wounded and dying. The smell of blood and burning flesh filled your nostrils, making your stomach churn. But you didn't have time to be sick. You had to keep working. You took a deep breath and composed yourself. You had been trained for this, and you knew exactly what to do.

When you saw this patient, you sprung into action. It was a young Padawan, younger even than yourself, with deep burns all over his body. You could feel his pain through the Force, and it only intensified when he saw you approach him. You could sense his fear, his uncertainty, and his desperation for help. You knew exactly what to do. Or you thought you did. Using the Force to steady your hands and calm the Padawan's nerves, you worked with precision, cleaning up his wound so that you could get a good view, then get him stabilised. But then he started convulsing violently. It was all over, and you didn't even get a moment to dwell before you were pushed off of him by your Master, it was useless, the boy had died. You were sent off to help somebody else, so you filed it away for later.

As the night wore on, the wounded continued to pour in, and you worked tirelessly to save as many lives as you could. Blood and sweat mingled on your forehead as you struggled to keep up with the constant flow of patients.

You were jolted out of your thoughts by the sound of someone calling your name. It was Anakin, his face twisted in pain. You rushed to his side, using the Force to assess his injuries. He had a deep cut across his abdomen, and it was bleeding profusely.

You didn't hesitate, you got to work immediately. You used the Force to steady your hands and focused all your energy on healing him. You ripped open his robes without thought or shame, didn't even register a word he said. It was as if time slowed down as you worked, your mind and body working in perfect harmony as you stitched him up. Anakin's pain slowly began to subside, and he looked up at you gratefully. But you didn’t dare to look him in the eye. You couldn’t.

The fighting didn’t start to die down unto the dawn broke and it was forever before you were finished. Finally you were able to excuse yourself, you made your way into the bathroom, desperate for a moment alone, a moment to breathe.

But the universe was not so kind. For the second time that day you heard a familiar voice calling your name. It was Anakin, battered and bruised but alive. He had clearly gone back out into the fight after you patched him up, but that was hours ago. Since then he had acquired an injury on his wrist, which someone else must have bandaged for him. Or perhaps he did it himself... It was roughly done with a part of his sleeve, that man...

He looked so concerned, so panicked by you as you turned around. With urgency he gripped at your arms, "Y/N, what happened to you? Who did this? I thought you would be staying in here, safe!"

"What?" You ask, tired and bewildered by his sudden energy. He was still looking at you in horror so you look down too. You understood his confusion then, you were covered in blood.

It wasn't even a splattering, it was like you had been dipped in it.

You looked at your own hands, they were shaking and trembling. The sight of the blood, the smell of it, were overwhelming you. You felt like you were going to be sick. You had been so busy helping others that you had forgotten to take care of yourself. You had forgotten to eat or drink anything, forgotten to rest. You had been running on adrenaline for hours, and now it was catching up to you. You felt weak and dizzy, and you knew you needed to sit down before you collapsed.

"None of it's mine, I..." Anakin helped you through an alcove, to rocky outcrop for you to sit and knelt down in front of you, gripping your hands and squeezing, trying to keep you in this reality. He could see the exhaustion and trauma in your eyes. He wondered at whoever had cleared you for this mission. He had been battle-worn since he was a child but you... You weren't meant to this, he was supposed to protect you.

He sat next to you, his arm around your shoulders, and held you close. You leaned into him, feeling safe and protected in his embrace. You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, feeling the tension slowly leaving your body.

After a few minutes of him wiping your hair off your face and whispering things in your ear you were calmed, turning to kiss him of the cheek.

"I'm sorry. I should be better at this by now."

He shook his head, unable to conjure the words. You take his silence for understanding and unconsciously start to play with his fingers, reminding yourself of his injury. Without a word you undo his make-shift bandage and sigh deeply at him.

"This needs stitches."

"I know, I was going to worry about it later."

You smile at him in a way which conveys your affection, your concern, your love, all at once. And he lets you stand.

You reach into the pocket of your apron, quite a feat with the dried blood, and mercifully your personal medi-kit was in a usable condition.

The sight of his blood didn't phase you, this, at least, was familiar. Anakin watched you intently, his eyes soft and tender.

"There was a Padawan earlier. Maybe you knew him? Young, dark hair…" You question him,

"I know. I saw him get caught up in a shell. And in the hospital. I can't remember his name. You saved so many lives today.” His hand comes to cup your cheek.

You nod, still silent.

He could feel the weight of your exhaustion and it made his heart ache. He leant forward, and with an unfamiliarly determined want he said; "If I could, I'd make sure nobody died. I would stop it if I had the power. I would stop everything."

"Well you can't."

"Why can't I?"

"Don't be ridiculous, it doesn't help. No one can control that, no one can control death." Your own words were your solution and the weight of the boys death lifted slightly.

Anakin paused his thoughts when he saw you relax. He knew that he would never be as strong and capable as you were, never so wise. He would always need you by his side to reign in the part of him that wanted those things. You, who had so much care for the world around you yet did not try to control it, so neither should he.

You finished wrapping his hand and held it up to your lips for a kiss.

"Thank you," he whispered.

You smiled at him, feeling your heart swell with love and affection for him. You knew that you couldn't do this without him, that he was your rock in times of trouble. You felt grateful for his presence, for his love, for his strength.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars fanfiction #clone wars #star wars #star wars prequels #star wars fandom

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just-prime · 7 months

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Ahsoka is so slow I could cry. She was trained by Anakin and presumably Obi-wan and several other Jedi, and Rosario can hardly do an actual lightsaber twirl, let alone make me believe she could survive Ventress, Maul, Grievous, or Vader, survive order 66, or run in a way that looks fast. Bo-Katan moves faster, Shin moves faster, Sabine moves faster, Ezra moves faster, even Ewan's lazy twirls while walking around and not actively engaged in battle in the prequels were roughly as fast as Rosario's in an actual duel.

It's also canon that in this era, in a less prequels flashy version of standard Jedi abilities, a Jedi can leap SEVERAL feet. Luke in ROTJ- even GROGU can jump higher, while Rosario's feet are consistently glued to the ground. Her choreography and speed are so inconsistent with this established era and people keep writing it off and praising it as her fighting like a samurai now, even though it makes NO sense for her to, given who trained her. She isn't A New Hope Obi-wan, nor sad cave dwelling Obi-wan who hasn't stretched or lifted a weapon in a decade, and a 44 year old Jedi is still supposed to be in their prime.

I truly wonder if part of it is that they can't keep her lekku on properly if she does a flip, and they are shorter because they were meant to be more practical, but I'm really not seeing a character agile enough to need stunt modified lekku.

If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated and each passing week demonstrates this more and more.

I'm sorry to anon into your inbox like this, but your post about the last episode has been so refreshing, and I've felt like I've been watching a completely different show than other people and don't know how they considered any of the actors ready. (Rosario has said she was training during filming). Thank you for your brutally honest take, you're spot on on all counts.

Couple of things.

A) I agree with everything you just said. Always feel free to come and rant into my asks.

B) I HAVE BEEN ANTI TINY LEKKU SINCE MANDO S2. It's laughable that we've seen cosplayers with more Rebels accurate headpieces. And of course everyone defends it with the 'it wouldn't be fair to the stunt person to have them try and do flips in that' and it's like NEWSFLASH Ahsoka isn't doing flips anyway!!! And sure, they probably stuck Rosario in a 5 week sword training class, but she's clearly not had to do any serious combat training given how clunky her fights are. And again, this was also a problem back in Mando s2, only she was in the middle of a foggy woods, so it was easier to hide the fact that she is incompetent when it comes to fight choreography.

C) "If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated" Exactly. This is why every passing day I am increasingly pissed that this show killed and ate the animated Rebels sequel series that was in fucking development. Everything about this show, from Ahsoka, to Hera (hell, even TBoBF cameos like Cad Banes) prove that Disney is not willing to shell out for a decent makeup and/or CG designer. No shade to the artists that are currently working on it, they are doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. What I mean is they didn't have anyone on set that was in a high enough positions to say 'Hey, have any of you heard of contouring?' Like, just looking at the alien makeup of the OT...which somehow holds up better than state of the art Disney budget makeup. It's just fucking embarrassing at this point. There is no reason everyone should look as flat as they do, but it's no surprise that they do when mary elizabeth winstead is celebrating that her makeup only took an hour. Sure, it's understandable that you don't want to be sitting in the makeup chair every morning of hours on end, but in the end you are an actor who signed up to play an alien...Suck it up buttercup.

D) I totally understand how hard it is to be not liking this show right now. The amount of people who've told me that "well, clearly it's just not made for you" after I point out a simple fact that a character is out of character is painful. Looking at twitter after each episode as everyone seems to think Filoni is creating the second coming is painful. Because it really does feel like we're watching a different show than them.

Okay, I think I covered everything. Thank you again for your kind words and your wonderful rant!!!

#rambles #dave filoni critical #ahsoka critical #ahsoka series #ahsoka spoilers #star wars #prime responds #anti filoni

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zapreportsblog · 8 months

Text

❝the shield maidens challenge❞

✭ pairing : ivar the boneless x reader

✭ fandom : vikings x reader

✭ summary : (y/n) is a shield maiden known for her unique hunting skills and techniques, ivar the boneless decides to put that to the test

✭ vikings masterlist

The air was crisp with the promise of winter as (Y/N) stood atop a hill, her gaze fixed on the dense forest that lay before her. Clad in leather armor, her long hair billowed in the wind, and her eyes held an intense focus. She was a shield maiden, known throughout the land for her exceptional hunting skills and unmatched techniques. Many whispered tales of her feats, of her ability to track prey that would evade even the most seasoned of hunters.

It was said that her eyes could discern the faintest traces of movement, her senses attuned to the subtleties of the natural world. The forest had become her domain, and the animals that dwelled within it were her allies, not adversaries.

But today was different. Word had reached her ears of a visitor, a stranger from a distant land. Ivar the Boneless, they called him—a warrior of formidable reputation and cunning mind. (Y/N) had heard the tales of his conquests, the stories of his audacious strategies on the battlefield.

As the forest rustled with life around her, (Y/N) sensed a presence nearby. Ivar emerged from the undergrowth, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity that matched her own. He was no ordinary warrior; the aura of power and intelligence that surrounded him was undeniable.

"(Y/N)," Ivar's voice was a low rumble, "I've heard of your skills. I've come to test them."

Her eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity mingling with the thrill of a challenge. "And what would you have me do, Ivar?"

A slow, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips. "Track me. Find me before sunset. Prove that your reputation is not mere boasting."

The challenge was laid before her, and (Y/N)'s heart quickened. This was no ordinary test; Ivar had seen through her facade, recognized the truth behind the legends. With a nod, she accepted his challenge, her eyes narrowing as she began to take in her surroundings.

For hours, (Y/N) traversed the forest, following signs and marks that Ivar had left behind. It was a game of wits, a duel of skill and strategy. With each clue, she felt Ivar's presence drawing nearer, his shadowy figure lurking at the edge of her perception.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, (Y/N) sensed that she was closing in. The forest grew quieter, as if holding its breath in anticipation. Her senses honed, she moved silently through the underbrush, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footfalls.

And then, she saw him. Ivar stood at the edge of a clearing, his back to her, his stance relaxed yet alert. He turned slightly, acknowledging her presence with a nod. "(Y/N), you have proven your skill," he said, his tone measured.

She stepped into the clearing, her breath coming steady despite the rush of exhilaration. "And you, Ivar, have proven yourself a worthy adversary."

A grin tugged at the corners of Ivar's mouth, a rare display of satisfaction. "The forest is yours, and your skills unmatched. But I offer you another challenge."

(Y/N)'s eyebrow quirked, her interest piqued. "Speak."

"I am assembling a band of warriors, a fellowship of those who value cunning and strategy as much as strength. Join me, (Y/N). Let your legend grow alongside ours."

Her gaze locked with his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the weight of their unspoken choices.

"I'll consider your offer, Ivar," she finally replied, her voice carrying a promise and a challenge of its own.

And with that, the shield maiden and the cunning warrior stood at the precipice of a new alliance, their destinies intertwined by the threads of skill, strategy, and a shared hunger for greatness.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the clearing where (Y/N) and Ivar stood. The air was pregnant with the weight of their unspoken agreement, the anticipation of what their partnership might bring. Ivar's gaze held a mixture of respect and intrigue, while (Y/N)'s eyes glittered with a fire that matched his own.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared, (Y/N) took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Your proposal is intriguing, Ivar. A fellowship that values strategy and cunning is a force to be reckoned with."

Ivar nodded, his gaze unyielding. "With your skills and my vision, we could shape the world. Forge a legacy that will be spoken of for generations."

Her lips curled into a half-smile. "But I am not one to be easily swayed, Ivar. Joining your fellowship means abandoning my own pursuits, my own path."

His expression remained unwavering. "You would not be abandoning anything, (Y/N). You would be trading one legend for another."

A gust of wind rustled the leaves overhead, and (Y/N) let his words settle in her mind. She had built her reputation as a solitary shield maiden, unburdened by alliances or loyalties beyond the forest that had raised her. But the offer before her was a tantalizing one, a chance to expand her influence beyond the borders of the wilderness.

"I will give you my answer in due time, Ivar," she finally said, her voice steady. "I require space to consider such a significant shift."

Ivar inclined his head in understanding. "Very well. Take the time you need. But know that when you make your decision, the fellowship of cunning warriors will be waiting."

With a final nod, (Y/N) turned away, the weight of the decision heavy on her shoulders. She retraced her steps through the forest, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and uncertainties. The moon emerged from behind a cloud, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead.

As the night deepened, (Y/N) found herself back at the hill where it had all begun. She looked out over the land she had come to know so well, her heart torn between the familiarity of her solitary life and the allure of a destiny intertwined with Ivar's.

The following days were a time of reflection and contemplation. (Y/N) wandered through the forest, her mind a battleground of conflicting desires. The fellowship offered a chance to leave a mark on the world, to channel her skills into something greater than herself. But it also meant letting go of the independence she had cherished for so long.

Eventually, the decision became clear, like a path illuminated by the first light of dawn. With a sense of purpose, (Y/N) made her way to the designated meeting place where Ivar and his companions waited. She walked into their midst, her presence commanding attention.

"I have made my choice, Ivar," she declared, her voice unwavering. "I will join your fellowship. Together, we will shape the world as we see fit."

A triumphant smile played on Ivar's lips as he extended his hand toward her. "(Y/N), welcome to our ranks. The fellowship of cunning warriors is stronger with you among us."

And so, beneath the moonlit sky, (Y/N) embraced her new path, her destiny intertwined with a fellowship that sought not only conquest but a legacy that would echo through the ages. The shield maiden's journey had taken an unexpected turn, leading her into a future brimming with challenges, alliances, and the promise of greatness.

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awritesthings1 · 1 year

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The Other Woman (Anakin Skywalker x Reader)

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Jedi Reader, Past Anakin Skywalker x Padme Amidala

Summary: You are hopelessly in love with Anakin, but when he goes and falls in love with Padme, you keep your distance. It isn't until an injury brings you back together in which Anakin reveals his true intentions.

Word Count: 3.5k

AO3 link

A/N: Requested by @theday-dreamer17

The pool in the Jedi Temple gardens was a lot colder than you anticipated. With an icy temperature numbing your skin to the bone, shivers wracked your body. In a way, it almost felt satisfying to shiver away some of those swelling feelings in your chest. Breathing out the air in your lungs and starving them of air, your thoughts were able to decompress. Each bubble out of your mouth was a rotting dream trapped between your teeth.

First, the clinging memories of when you met Anakin. The day was engraved into your brain. Cheeky grins, secret glances, and a thrilling rush. He was the new boy; the Chosen One, the one to bring peace to the Galaxy. You were mesmerized at first sight.

Anakin couldn't say the same.

He didn’t notice you until much later. Always busy with some mission, Anakin became as much a passing thought. Occasionally you would see him around the Temple, and each time you were subtle in your gaze, careful not to get caught because you knew your fascination was dangerous. No Jedi should ever be as curious as you were. At that point in time, you weren’t even sure if what you felt was a crush. It was more a strong desire to simply know him. How you wished you knew what was on his mind each time he frowned at his Master or cracked a smirk. He was strong, deftly more capable than other Padawans. No doubt his growth was as fast as his remarks.

And then you finally met him. After months of trying to figure him out, you were paired up with him in class to duel. It ended embarrassingly quickly. You never dwelled on it, because after that class, he began returning your glances.

And maker, it felt so forbidden, but so enthralling.

Perhaps your peers started to notice. Whether it was out of jealousy or disapproval, they drifted further away. Missions, training, or meditation, they always had an excuse. You pressed down the way it hurt because Jedi weren’t supposed to feel that kind of way.

Life got lonelier after that. Despite living with crowds of Jedi, never have you felt more alone. Each interaction you replayed in your head, trying to find the step where you went wrong. It was no use. For now, you just had to learn to get by. Eventually, you would be a big and strong Jedi and none of those feelings would matter anymore. You just need to wait.

If you blinked, you would have missed it. Only after a week of solitude, you were sat in the dining hall, mindlessly picking at your food, when Anakin Skywalker sat down next to you. The brush of his Padawan braid jolted your shoulders, and you thought if he had moved any faster you would have dislocated something. He laughed that light boyish sound; it melted like butter through your ears. A suffocating heat swelled your cheeks red, and the weight of your robes began to feel heavier. Anakin managed a sly joke about one of your old friends and you had to purse your lips to muffle a giggle.

And that’s how it started.

For a while, everything was alright. The two of you were inseparable; bickering at the slightest issue, doing dumb dares, and consoling each other on tough days. You even started noticing the little details, like the way his laugh got deeper, or the way his shoulders filled out. It was pitiful how your ears would perk up when you heard his name. Guilt wasn’t enough to stop the intrusive thoughts. It was wrong to feel the way you did for Anakin, but he had a keen way of getting between your morals.

A gust of wind brushes against your wet neck, drawing your attention back to the water. By now, your heart rate is resting comfortably as you admire the little inhabitants buried in the sand. A shelled creature steals your attention, stumbling through the sand as it struggles to keep a pebble on its back. Just when you reach to help it, a hand grabs the scuff of your robe by the neck and pulls you out of the water. In shock, you gasp before breaking the surface, accidentally inhaling a breath of water.

The voice growling in your ear doesn’t even phase you as your lungs heave for air. Water is stuck in your ears, lungs, and eyes, so when two strong arms turn you around, all you can do is cough. When the water finally clears out of your airways, you wipe away the droplets stinging your eyes. After a few blinks, your vision sharpens enough to see a disgruntled Anakin.

You scowl at the sight of him.

His hands grab both your arms, rolling up your Jedi sleeves to check your skin. “What the kriff do you think you are doing? Trying to hurt yourself?” His voice holds the same power he uses to command the 501st, concealing any hint of concern.

“No!” Your voice snaps back, shrugging his hands off.

He ignores you, removing his outer robe to wrap around your soaking body. “Then why did I find you face down in the pool?” Anakin hisses, clenching his jaw like a disapproving father.

You hated this. Hated being treated like a youngling.

“Don’t pretend you care.” You blink water away from your eyes, unsure if they are wet from the pool or tears. Either way, you pull his robe tighter around your frame as shivers begin to set in. Your hair hangs, covering your inflamed cheeks at his disapproving frown.

“Are you serious?” He huffs, “what did I do?”

You don’t stick around to answer because you know that isn’t your place.

It’s Padme Amidala’s.

Anakin hadn’t told you much about his mission to Naboo, only that he was assigned to protect a senator. It was just your luck, she was one of the most beautiful people you had ever seen. Yes, when you first saw her, you were irrevocably jealous. And not even because it was clear Anakin had his eye on her, but because you couldn’t even hate her.

Even when you tried to find something to hate, she only made you like her more, which only made you more frustrated and spiteful at Anakin. How could you ever compete with anyone like her? You were a Jedi, forbidden to love, and she was a powerful senator who held her own throughout the wars and campaigned for change. She was everything you wanted to be.

You want her smile that casts light through the dark. You want her gentle laugh that attracts people her way. You want to drown yourself in a bottle of her perfume until you can’t breathe because maybe then he would want you just as much as he wants Padme Amidala.

And so you kept walking until your feet hurt.

Anakin left on another mission after that. He didn’t stop by your quarters before his departure, not even a message on your comm. Just gone.

You tried not to think about him for a while, but Anakin was like a stain you couldn’t scrub away.

The first you heard his name was a month later as it was slipping out of Padme’s mouth in front of the Galatic Senate. You were watching in the background as she was praising Anakin’s progress in the Outer Rim to the cameras. The screens added insult to injury as they projected all his winning battles to the crowd. In one of the clips, he was stood before a fallen separatist ship with heroic music playing in the background. And while you couldn’t stand for the propaganda the Republic liked to shove down people’s throats, you lapped up every second of it. Because they showed his face. From the scar across his eye to his hair that had grown shaggier.

But what the politicians had captured correctly, was the way you pictured Anakin in your head. He was larger than life, fiercely loyal, and most of all unstoppable. Anakin would do anything to achieve his goals, even if it meant sacrificing what he wanted. So why had he scarified his role as a Jedi to pursue Padme? The intrusive thought pulls on those fragile strings of yours. You wish you knew.

Watching over Padme’s shoulder as she gave a speech to the cameras, you stared longingly down the lens of one. Anakin was probably off somewhere fighting for the Republic and there was only a slim chance he would ever be watching. You chose to ignore reality, gazing down the lens of a camera, searching for his blue eyes as if he were looking back at you. Was he sitting somewhere in his ship watching Padme’s speech? Did he even have time to turn on the HoloNet? Had he noticed you behind her shoulder and the pathetic look on your face?

Shifting through your daydreams, the eruption of applause makes you jump. The sound is numb to your ears, not paying any attention to the senators filing out, even the ones carelessly bumping into your shoulders. Because you can’t stop watching the way she compiles and carries herself out of the room with a gracious but stern smile. She had the power to make an impression on the galaxy and you could only stand and watch.

Well, if she wanted him, she could have him. You weren’t about to sacrifice your life for a boy.

You could only hope Anakin came to his senses.

The next time you saw Anakin was after you were released from the med bay. It wasn’t your proudest moment. After another grueling mission, you had lost your lightsaber in a surprise attack. Having no other choice but to fumble for a blaster, the first shot twisted your shoulder an ugly way until it popped. You remember the violent spasms as you fought off the pain, running to board the nearest transport ship. Clutching your shoulder, you were moments away from jumping on until an explosion knocked you into darkness.

The rest was a blur and you would prefer to forget the mortifying moment and the even more awkward recovery. All that mattered now was the simple taste of food that you couldn’t even eat.

Frustratedly, you pick at your food, trying to figure out just how you were supposed to use one hand. Your injured shoulder was still out of action and burdened you every step of the way. It was hard to adjust to the new circumstances, but you figured you had it lucky.

“It’s easier if you eat it piece by piece,” an arrogant voice cuts in.

You want to bury your head in your food.

Before you have time to grab your plate and move, the broad figure of Anakin Skywalker slides into the seat next to you.

“What are you doing Anakin.”

His lips purse in response, eyeing around to see if anyone was watching.

“I’ve been worried. I heard you were in the med bay.” By some miracle he sounds genuine. However, you knew better than to fall down that hole again.

Ignoring his concerns, you leave your food behind on the table, opting for a brisk walk to starve off the anger. Out of habit, your feet carry you toward the Jedi gardens. At least there you could find some solitude, even if it felt like a temporary solution. Because that’s all you have being doing; temporary solutions. Anything to numb the swelling flutter in your stomach for just a moment. Only this time, your stomach churned in a way you knew would remain for the rest of the day.

Anakin is always quick to catch on, wordlessly trailing behind you like an unwanted burden. Not even time can misplace the familiar pattern of his footsteps, and you hate how you can still remember it. After all this time, Anakin still plagues your mind. And despite how much you wish to simply forget, your heart only knows how to keep beating, to persistently drum against your ribcage because that’s all it’s ever known. In a way, it’s all you’ve ever known either. It wasn’t simply a feeling you could recover from.

The sight of the garden leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You can’t help but picture the last time you truly spoke to Anakin. Not in a guarded way, not through your teeth or behind closed smiles, but truly the authentic you, flaws and all. Now, it fell flat. You were so tired of being his second choice, you would rather drown yourself before falling back into step with him.

As you look over your shoulder, the guilt is written all over his face but you won’t fall for it. Not again. The days of jumping at a beep from your comm was over. Anakin Skywalker had moved on, and it was time for you to.

“You’re not going to jump into the pool again, are you?” He remarks, although his lighthearted attempt to soften the tension slips through.

“If you give me a reason I might,” you reply without a trace of humor. Turning back to watch the creatures in the pool, you can feel his glare burning your back.

What surprises you is the way he doesn’t bite back. It’s unlike Anakin, although you suppose some of Padme’s patience might have rubbed off on him.

When he marches to meet you at the side of the pool, your shoulders tense, not out of fear but out of confusion when he passes you and jumps into the water. And as fast as it had appeared, a spark of curiosity swallows the tension. Because here he was, the boy who grew up in a desert, jumping into a pool with heavy Jedi robes. And what for? You hadn’t asked him to, and he wasn’t the strongest swimmer.

Nevertheless, he surfaces with a smile before squeezing his eyes shut to wipe away the water. Catching his stare, Anakin dips his head beneath the surface and you almost scream because you know he isn’t as confident in the water as you. Hurriedly, you shrug off your robes, ready to dive in and pull him out. Although, before you dip your feet in, you notice the movement of the water by his head.

He's blowing bubbles.

You aren’t sure whether to sigh at his childness or to stop fighting the smile on your face.

And in a loss of composure, you let yourself get taken away by his antics. Unbeknownst to you, Anakin’s head rises out of the water, swimming over to hold the edge by your feet.

He missed your smile.

“Padme told me how you have been guarding the senators at their meetings.”

And just like that, your shields go up.

“Padme told you?”

“Yeah, she thinks you’re dealing with your arm better than I did.”

You purse your lips.

“…She thinks highly of you,” Anakin adds.

Your teeth grit at his comment. You couldn’t imagine why Padme would care. She got under your skin like that.

“Oh.” The silence hangs in your words. Seeing first-hand the way he talks about Padme hits a nerve, and somewhere in the last five minutes your eyes had started to water. Anakin calls your name with uncertainty as you seem to shrink into yourself. “I think I’ll go.” Although your feet don’t move, because if they do, you are afraid of what you will leave behind.

He pleas your name again, climbing out of the pool to stand before your frame. This moment was too familiar, and you can’t help but begin to crumble at the edges, because you know what happens after this.

“Don’t cry.” Anakin’s voice is soft like a warm hug.

Your bottom lip trembles.

Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in.

“You should go find Padme…” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak clearly.

“I don’t want to find Padme,” he whispers back.

Blinking away a stray tear, you search his eyes for the truth, finding no lies in his words.

“What if she needs your help?”

“You need my help,” Anakin breathes lowly.

Sniffing, the gentle huff of his breath against your cheek sets your skin alight. As he engulfs you in a hug, you clutch at the final strings of resistance, knowing you are fighting a losing battle. He is careful to avoid your injured arm, leaning into your unaffected side.

Your head sinks into his shoulder. Through a shuddering breath, you exhale. “Why are you doing this to me.”

His body melts into yours and the energy to resist floats away. With wet hands, he carefully brushes through your hair, effectively soaking you with his wet robes. Despite the hitch in your breath at the cold temperature, a thunderous heat beats to life, from your stomach to your head.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to notice—"

“Please don’t do this to me,” you cry, pulling away from his embrace. It hurt enough being his second choice, especially after you had spent all this time pinning over him. Were you to risk being caught breaking Jedi code only for him to move on?

Anakin rushes to speak, clutching at your elbows as you recoil, dreading his next words.

“…Anakin, please,” you beg as tears trace down your cheeks.

“I realise now that it was never Padme…” He begins.

“Anakin—”

“It was always you. It will always be you.”

You deflate. “We can’t.” Even though it is all you’ve ever wanted. “The Jedi Order—”

“—Ever since I got back, I’ve been in agony. Watching you suffer in silence, it kills me that I can’t help you.” His brows knit together in frustration, biting his lip as he struggles to piece together his feelings. “I want to protect you, but I can’t do that if you push me away.” He swallows, mouth dry from anticipation.

Anakin looks as if he had walked out of your dreams. With features sharp to the touch and that brooding gaze hidden beneath shaggy hair. He fit into every mindless daydream. Worst of all, his words were all you wanted to hear and against your best interests, you think you would throw everything away for him to repeat them again. Even the weight of his palms against your arm fit just right. Not too heavy, not too tight, but a gentle squeeze, a quiet reassurance. A promise.

He waits, watching carefully as you swipe your tongue across your dry lips, processing the moment. “What would Padme think?” Your voice no higher than a whisper.

Much to your disbelief, Anakin smiles. Toothy and wide, he even dares let go of the breath he had been holding. “Padme knows,” he grins.

Your face falls.

Oh.

Anakin’s hands trail down your arms, tangling your hands together as if he hadn’t just dropped the biggest bomb on you.

“Padme knows?” You repeat.

He nods. “She’s been scolding me for not doing this sooner.”

Here he was again, throwing you down an empty hole, expecting you to know how to dig yourself out of it. Did he really feel this way about you or was it Padme’s doing? Was she shoving him onto you to get rid of him?

“No, stop doubting yourself. I chose this, not Padme.”

And through the dark, he reaches out a helping hand, pulling you out of the withering hole. Perhaps you were gullible or weak minded because you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You were already so tired of being alone and fighting your feelings, that you fall into his embrace. Despite his soaked robes and your injured shoulder, you feel warm and fuzzy, a chilling difference to the inescapable pressure lurching in your stomach the past few months. Maybe things could work out, or maybe things won’t.

Regardless, you know you would rather injure your shoulder over twisting and turning through every what if scenario at night.

“I need time,” you mumble into his chest.

Not a single bone in Anakin’s body can be mad at you for that. All that matters is your forgiveness. If he was honest, he thought his chances were slim to none after his childish antics. But when he looks down at you, he sees that you are no longer that little youngling he had met all those years ago. You had lived through battles, seen people fall before your eyes, and found solace in your own thoughts. You were so much more than he could ever be.

“I’d give you more time if I could.” He means it too.

Leaning back, your eyes roll at his endearing comment, fighting the smile threatening to appear. “Alright, hero. Why don’t you go get changed into something dry.”

A mischievous smirk erupts across his face, and before you have time to react, Anakin is tugging you back towards the pool. “How about we go for a swim instead?”

Normally you would scold him and insist on doing the right thing. But now? You could handle a break. Afterall, the Jedi Temple wouldn’t fall apart without your presence. And so for once, you leave your responsibilities neatly folded on the side of the pool, jumping in behind Anakin to float on your back. Despite awkward bandages holding your shoulder in place, you find content in watching the clouds roll by in silence. Beside you, Anakin mimics your position, occasionally rolling over and having to right himself.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x padme #hayden christensen #star wars anakin #anakin fanfiction #sw anakin #anakin #anakin imagine

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marawis · 2 years

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Click link here for better quality picture

I made this special banner for the music competition Dwelling of Duels for the August 2022 contest! I’m super honored and very happy about this piece!

Also if you are into videogame arrangement music you should check out the submissions of previous entries, they are all amazing!

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leportraitducadavre · 1 year

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Fear and Racism - an analysis of Tobirama’s advocates

During all my years on Tumblr, I’ve found constantly the same argument regarding Tobirama’s views on the Uchiha, and while most (if not all) of his fans tend to justify his behavior over the vastly discussed COH theory that considered them biologically and emotionally unstable and thus, needing the government’s control, many others avid readers tend to defend or understand (at least partially) his views and decisions upon the premise of fear. More specifically, his fear of the Uchiha’s power, a sentiment born and developed during his youth as a member of his clan that lost beloved ones at Uchiha’s hands and was forced to face them in battle.

I will not dwell on the fact that many other (if not all) noble clans composing Konoha also incurred in such duels, and it’s likely that the Senju and other families also fought during the Warring State Era. The Uchiha was the Senju’s primary opposite force, yet not the only one, still, that “fear of insurrection” was solely focused upon a single family instead of a vast group of different people. In that sense, this fact alone disintegrates the argument that Tobirama was “prejudiced” rather than racist, as prejudice refers to a preconceived idea (positive or negative) about a particular person or group not based on prior experience nor knowledge, while racism involves an unequal distribution of power on the basis of ethnicity. The fact that Uchiha was the only clan forced to perform a single job (that limited their political influence and also prevented their complete integration in Konoha), were spied on by ANBU members, and were moved to the outskirts of the city (not by the Nidaime but following the same segregationist policies established by him), are actions performed by two different governments under the guidance of what became a systematized racist political structure.

The policies he made were around his personal racial prejudices as he’s the one and only who created the bureaucratic system of the village (something many of his stans gloat about) that, in itself, makes him racist. Those that state that he was just "prejudiced" conveniently leave aside the segregationist structure he built around his mindset. As someone in a position of power who, as was canonically shown and stated (by Hashirama, Orochimaru, and himself), didn't even bother to check his own prejudices, he's to be held accountable over the simple fact that he was the Hokage in charge of guaranteeing the safety, equity, and equality of those under his command.

Yet, while fear given his prior experiences is a fair claim as the basis for Tobirama’s bias, it’s also factual for the rest, as Madara (and other Uchiha) also lost relatives at Senju’s hands –in fact, Tobirama is likely more powerful than most Sharingan wielders as he killed Izuna, the second in command. Yet unlike Tobirama, neither Madara nor anyone of his kin performed undisclosed autopsies of deceased Senju members in order to study their biology nor wrote discriminatory and limiting policies based upon their nature. Madara even deflected after learning about his clan’s future inside Konoha’s borders.

[I’ll also brush over the fact that Tobirama’s words about how Madara is viewed negatively by other clan heads, while Hashirama isn’t, it’s never canonically shown –which only let us with his word, which we immediately took as factual.]

What I will comment on more deeply tho, is the notion of fear and its influence on racist mentalities and behaviors, as many believe that Tobirama’s fear of the Uchiha has nothing to do with his discriminatory mindset, as if “fear for what an ethnicity might do and therefore acting by repressing them in advance” it’s somehow different than racism, that implies a “racial [ethnic, as the term racism is far outdated as there’s only one race that exists with multiple ethnicities] prejudice that guides the individual to perform discriminatory and repressive acts.”

Extreme hatred is almost always based on fear. People may feel threatened by people they view as "different" or "foreign." They may fear losing power. To combat this fear, some people may seek social support from others with similar fears, perpetuating the cycle.

Source

Attitudes of extreme hatred are usually based on fear. They come from primitive survival mechanisms—our instinct to avoid danger—to fear anything that appears to be different, which leads to fear of the other.

“When one race of persons unconsciously feels fear in response to a different race group—fears that their own level of security, importance, or control is being threatened—they will develop these defensive thoughts and behaviors,” says psychologist and political advisor Dr. Reneé Carr. “They will create exaggerated and negative beliefs about the other race to justify their actions in [an] attempt to secure their own safety and survival.”

Source

Irrational fear, particularly of people of color, has shaped the American criminal justice system since the nation's colonial beginnings (...) Many of the propagators of this apartheid trafficked in racist fear-mongering to justify discriminatory treatment of African Americans, warning white America about the inherent criminality and violent propensities of black men.

Source

Fear and Racism are deeply intertwined, such as is Hate and Racism (there’s a reason why xenophobia, which is the fear of strangers or foreigners, it’s often used as a synonym for racism) –Tobirama claimed that the Uchiha were a “clan possessed by evil” (x), despite his studies only confirming that emotions were the primary force behind their chakra activating the Sharingan. At no point did he prove that negative emotions were the sole requirement for their kekkei genkai to activate nor was he able to prove that their feelings commanded their actions as he performed autopsies over (hopefully) dead bodies that clearly had no way to feel a single thing and act upon it; in fact, he wrote the book of shinobi’s rules that forbid people (even non-Uchiha) from showing emotions -yet Hiruzen, the student he trusted the most with his will, as he bestowed upon him the Hokage title, happily exploited such connections amongst his forces.

Tobirama’s need for control pushed him to create Edo-Tensei (a jutsu that came back to bite him in the ass, but regardless), he controlled powerful deceased shinobi at the expense of other people’s lives –you can say that Tobirama’s primarily driven force was fear yet it easily evolved into a clear necessity of absolute control over both living and dead people as to perform what he thought was righteous. In that sense, his characterization is marvelous, as he’s not above cruelty to perform what he claims is “the greater good”, in fact limiting his vicious tendencies is reducing both his depth as a character inside the story and the complexity and duality of the system he created under such perspective –neither he nor Hashirama were above ruthless acts to carry out their wishes.

To state that he wasn’t racist but rather, a person that acted upon his fear by creating and carrying out segregation policies based upon biology (re-read that phrase again and tell me how that isn’t racism, please) it’s limiting the existence of racism to mere “hatred” sentiments that rest upon the notion of one ethnicity’s superiority (morally, physically or both), which, pardon me, is absolutely nonsensical and paradoxical, as Tobirama was well aware of the Sharingan’s supremacy (in that case, the explanation of his racism would be solely based upon the anger awaken by sentiments of jealousy, yet canonically he never displayed such propensity as even having access to Uchiha corpses he never implanted himself a Sharingan).

[Many POC (particularly males) have to, to this day, fight against racist pre-conceptions that paint them as violent, savage, and blood-lusted individuals, created to install fear amongst the “pure” white citizens in order to push them to seek “government protection against the savages” which, in turn, happily and easily installed discriminatory policies against such communities.]

If you wish, you can say Tobirama’s fear was “rational” as he does have a background of conflict with the Uchiha, yet then you can’t blame the Uchiha for distrusting Tobirama and his successors’ policies as they also possess the same history –yet while Tobirama is, somehow, justified in his apprehension for the Uchiha, that courtesy isn’t extended to that family, who should have trusted blindly Konoha’s system, a bureaucracy which basis are built upon Tobirama’s ethnic prejudice.

And it's even by their own laid-out premises that these advocates fail to specify what exactly ARE Tobirama’s segregationist policies: They were targeted to a single clan and a single clan alone, what is that if not ethnic prejudice? They keep saying is not racism yet fail to convey what it is as if “fear” is enough response when speaking of an individual that built Konoha's entire political structure.

Furthermore, many claim that Tobirama couldn’t be racist as he allowed one Uchiha (Kagami) inside his cell, and both Itachi and Shisui were advocates for Konoha’s government yet:

This denial of the significance of race is a tool that allows the dominant racial group to legitimize the effects of racism under the guise of individual merit. Through this lens, people in positions of power can credit their successes to their own hard work while positioning the disadvantages oppressed racial groups face to personal rather than systemic failures.

The praising and/or awarding of one or few individuals inside a group that suffers from systematic prejudice is not proof of such a community not suffering from such segregation policies, rather, it’s a way to disguise such oppression while selling the idea that individual merit it’s both what matters, and the thing that’s stopping most members of such a family from rising inside Konoha’s political’s sphere. That way the blame is placed upon individual actions rather than the systematic flaws of Konoha’s policies (and the same happens with other characters, such as Naruto, Neji, Kakashi, and so on –as their traumatic experiences and subsequent reactions are blamed upon their individual perspective and not on the bureaucratic structure that is both the cause of the specific events that shaped them and the reason why they don’t have a better support system after such occurrences).

At the same time, Madara was the main motive of Tobirama’s “terror” for the Uchiha yet, after Madara’s death, he continued with his discriminatory policies towards those who shared the same ethnicity as the former leader, despite them willingly turning their back on him when he tried to make them abandon Konoha, pledging their loyalty to their village rather than to their strongest member and leader. Tobirama’s prejudice toward this specific ethnic group (as ethnicities in this manga are marked by the different Kekkei Genkai that exists), a consequence of his fear of a “new Madara rising” (whether it’s based on fear or hate doesn’t deny the fact that these notions were constructed with a racial prejudice still, making the system in itself and Tobirama specifically racist), converged in the systematic oppression that, later on, will push the Uchiha to attempt a coup and their subsequent massacre, a point that I touched upon a little more here.

In short, denying Tobirama acted upon his fear for the Uchiha is reading his character flatly, I agree, however, maintaining that fear is not one of the main bases for the development of racist mentalities and policies is to simplify both the notion itself and to diminish the gravity of the segregationist practices that result from this perspective.

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youlikefanficdontyousquidward · 1 year

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Bubble baths

Sort of a continuation of this lyle fic, but recom now! (Mainly a surprise gift for @thevanityofthefox)

Sequel to

Summary: Recom!Lyle is a little body conscious but decides to share a bubble bath with his partner!

Warnings: Sexual content, smut, na'vi gentles differences (Will link the post if I find it but picture that scene from the shape of water)

Of all the team Lyle found himself adjusting the easiest. Miles brooded, Mansk was grumpier than normal and even Lopez wasn't up to joke around. He felt Walker and Zdog at least had more of an excuse, their biology was the most altered.

Although at least they still looked themselves downstairs. Lyle grumbled at the ken doll look he sported in the mirror. The lab coats had given them a very amusing sex ed lesson. One they could barely get through from the laughter of their audience.

He was still there, just tucked up and hidden. Suppose that explained the loin cloths their enemies wore, nothing to hide. Well not entirely true, the human DNA left him still with his happy trail.

He'd avoided being intimate with you since he'd returned. You were keen no question but he just wasn't comfortable yet. Angel you were you'd backed down, being extremely affectionate without pushing it.

It was incredibly frustrating. Of course you had no idea how bad he wanted you, innocently pecking his cheek, sharing his bed, cuddling. All perfectly tame behavior, it was Lyle's mind that kept dwelling on your touch. The feel of your hands on him, your soft flesh squishing against him under the covers.

You'd been enjoying the new facilities. Lyle's room was even bigger now at Bridgehead. Large soft bed, windows, a desk big enough for both of you and the en suite. This new bathroom had you giddy, jumping in place and holding his arm.

It was pretty nice, even he had to admit it. Walk in shower, large sink, lots of surface space and the centerpiece, a huge bath tub. This truly was massive, easily five times the size of any he'd seen before. Though with his new body it had to be. Even so he'd probably still have to raise his knees to fit but the water could go up to his chest.

He'd not been in yet. He'd joked you were never out of it to the others. Prager smiling cheekily at him from across the table.

"You could join them!" He smirked, jabbing Walker beside him.

"You better or I will!" Ja clapped his shoulder taking a seat beside him. Lyle feigned jealousy, demanding a duel for your honour. It didn't bother him, their jokes were just that and he trusted you more than anyone.

It was in that spirit he entered your shared room. The tell tale light and steam coming from the bathroom. He was being silly, he knew it. You wouldn't shame him for his new form, it was his problem and he wanted to deal with it.

He entered the room, removing his shirt and tossing it to the bed. He'd been in plenty of times while you'd bathed or showered now. There was no shyness left in you as you grinned from the tub.

"Dinner good?" You hummed, your eyes slipping closed again. You'd even lit some scented candles he'd found for you. Hell he should have got some rose petals! You looked beautiful in the bubbles, skin glowing in the dim flames.

"Mhm, nothing beats grubs and roots." He joked, new diet had been hard to adjust to. He stood at the mirror above the sink, stalling a moment. He heard you shift in the water behind him, glancing at your reflection. You moved to the edge closest to him, gazing up his bare back.

He took a deep breath, unbuckling his belt. The seconds dragged on in to infinity, it felt torturous. He watched your gaze linger on his figure, drinking in his muscled back. He remembered your first night on the base, you fingers lazily tracing his glowing freckles in the dark. His throat tightened as he unzipped his trousers, letting them fall and kicking them away.

"Mind if I join you?" He called over his shoulder, his voice calmer than he felt. His heart fluttered at your spreading grin, exited to be close to him.

"Sure!" You chirped, "Big spoon or little?" you added. It'd been a joke at first but he'd come to really enjoy being little spoon at night. Your frame wrapping around him, tucking his head to your chest, legs around his slim waist.

"Little." he decided. If he was gonna do this he wanted to relax. He heard the squeak as you shifted back to the other end of the tub. With one last gulp he dropped his pants.

There was no reaction, of course not, you'd been well aware of na'vi biology before he had. You just smiled up at him before reaching grabbing hands to him. He chuckled, stepping into the warm water and leaning back against you.

It was heavenly, the gentle scent on the bubbles and candles, the warmth of the water seeping into his skin and you hands. You rubbed bubbles up his arms, stopping to knead into the muscle of his neck. He groaned, letting the tension drift out with the sound. His tail shifted uncomfortable before he moved it to curl around your waist.

He felt you legs on either side of his own clench together slightly before your hands continued to his scalp. You rubbed the skin as Lyle relaxed further, slipping down your chest a little. He felt amazing, cursing himself for not enjoying this luxury sooner. When your massage ended your hands slipped forward to rest on his chest, giving his peck a playful squeeze.

He laughed a little, before he felt you kiss against his neck. It was just a peck, you weren't pushing things but oh what it did to him. He let his hand glide down your thigh, feeling your breath hitch behind him. One thing was glad for now, was that he could literally smell your arousal. Even past the soap and candles your scent was the sweetest thing.

Lyle sat up twisting to rest his back on the other side of the tub. He smirked across at you, now able to see the blush tipping your ears. He reached his hands out, beckoning you to join him. You rose to your knees, giving Lyle a good show of your chest. Water and soap tracing down your form as he stared, desperate to engrave the sight into his mind.

You took his arms, Lyle tugging you to him. The water sloshed, spilling out onto the tiles. Neither of you could find it in yourselves to care for a little mess right now. Both caught so strongly by the others gaze. Now closer you shifted up, climbing into Lyle's lap.

He felt his core twitch, an aching in him stronger than he'd ever felt. A drive to be closer, his tail reacting on its own, wrapping round your thigh. He trailed his hands up your spine, your body arching against his own. Closer, he needed to be closer.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, silent question hanging between you both. You were too sweet, still waiting to be sure he was ready. Lyle answered with a kiss, heated and greedy.

His hands tangling into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the connection. He nipped gently at your lips, weary of fangs before trailing his kiss to your jaw. He felt your hands gripping his shoulders, your hip now grinding down against him.

He muffled his moans into your neck, sucking and nipping where your scent grew stronger. Your whimpers above him were driving him wild. His hips bucked up against yours desperate for friction.

Lyle let a hand slip down, grazing against your hardened nipple on his way down. You whined, body so sensitive under his touch. Maybe from the weeks without his attention or maybe just your own changes. Whatever it was it didn't matter, it drove him feral to hear your reactions.

He tipped you back to mouth at your chest, while his hand slipped between you both. You moaned out his name, Lyle's ears flicking at the wanton sound, focusing forward desperate for more.

He rubbed languid circles against you, savoring the way you tensed and writhed. Your nails digging into his arms, even the sting was exquisite. He felt his own need growing, desperate for more. The driving need to be closer still.

He reached to his own, feeling the hardened tip pocking there, the need almost painful. He pressed in and up under it, the strange new sensation making his eyes roll back. He unfurled, his hard cock bouncing up against you.

He tipped his head to meet your gaze. Your hooded eyes staring down only looked hungry. Your hand slipping bellow the water to curl around him. Lyle sucked air in through his teeth at your touch, hands darting to the tubs sides for support.

You gently explored his length, excited by the feeling of hard ridges, wondering just how magnificent he'll look out of the obscuring water. You rose, hand aligning him to your entrance before locking eyes again.

Lyle's pupils were blow, almost black in the dim light. His mouth slack as he took in the sight. You sat, sliding down his length in one motion, keening at the sudden stretch. Still it was worth it for the sound Lyle made, an animalistic growl that set your hairs on end. His hand gripping your hips to grind you against him.

You rose again, slapping back down, Lyle grunting and bucking with you. His head diving down to your throat again latching on as you road him. You were sure you were covered in love bites but you couldn't care. Your need driving your hips deeper down, grinding after your own high.

He could feel you getting close, the fluttering walls tightening against him driving him deeper. His hand slipped back down, needing to add more sensation, craving your release around him. You chanted his name in his ear, unable to form any other word past the moans.

He was edging closer himself, keeping pace despite the dizzying pleasure. Just a little longer, he needed to hear you first, need to feel it.

Your orgasm crashed against you, crying out as waves of it coursed through you, gripping onto Lyle. He was barely a second behind, the sudden rush of warmth, the tight spasm, your voice, it was all too much. You road out your high, stilling against his stuttering hips as it passed.

Both your chests heaved in rhythm together. Lyle whispered praises against your skin, leaving open mouthed kisses up until he reached your lips.

He kissed you gently, hands stroking your hair delicately before pulling away to admire your blissed out expression. He kissed the tip of your nose, watching your eyes refocus and letting out a giggle. The movement making him twitch inside you.

"Again?" Your eyes widened, a small smiles spreading across your swollen lips. Lyle leaned in to kiss you again, sure he'd never want to stop.

#lyle wainfleet x reader #lyle wainfleet #avatar imagine #my fics #the way of water #recom reader #maybe if you squint #wanted to leave it vague enough you could be human #also fun fact if your reading down here doing it in the tub really increases the risk of UTIs #and pain for the penetrated partner as water washes away lubrication #the more you know

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pinkarachnia · 9 months

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Lesbian Anime Review #12 - Revolutionary Girl Utena & Adolescence of Utena

Hey

That was funny revolutionary

How does one review a piece of media so foundational to everything else that it inspired?

Going into Utena, I felt like I wanted the show to prove itself to me. Why is this one always put on such a pedestal? When something is so universally acclaimed as this, it sets expectations so high it should be unreasonable for it to meet them.

And yet.

Utena serves as a reminder that sometimes we put pieces of media on a pedestal because they've earned gold.

In this show a girl transforms into a cow and the cow returns for the movie.

My biggest criticism of this show is it needs a flashing lights warning all over it. Some of the shots are really difficult to look at, which is such a shame considering how gorgeous the animation can be.

I don't know if it's possible for me to have an original thought about Utena. After finishing it and the subsequent movie, I spent some time listening to people's takes, impressions, and theories about it. I gained a lot of insight through that process. It helps that people have had a lot of time to dwell on this show and its meaning. When I finished it, I felt that I was still searching for more of that meaning. Utena doesn't try to explain what its themes and symbolism mean and a lot is left to the audience to interpret, but I got the distinct impression that it was supposed to carry a specific meaning, not something vague or nebulous. For a while this meant that I felt frustrated that after everything I still had lingering questions, as though there should have been answers I could have found, but by now I think I'm content. I found answers to the questions that needed answers, and what was left could remain unanswered and that was okay.

Anyway, Nanami episodes.

Utena is a show that has a serious plot with the duels and the student council and the absolute destiny apocalypse and all that, but every 4 episodes or so you're treated to a precious gift in the form of an episode centred around this little shit head.

She's the best character and she has ridiculous episodes that seem only tenuously canonical but I'll be damned if they weren't fantastic.

I really liked the part where she was pursued relentlessly by a group of elephants while she tried to acquire a rare spice to create a curry that will reverse Utena and Anthy's body swap.

RELENTLESSLY.

So this anime is about a girl called Utena who wants to be a prince because when she was a kid, a prince showed her kindness when her parents died and gave her a ring that would apparently lead her back to him eventually, and she thought that guy was sick AF.

Utena is good at sports and wears a masculine school uniform and all the girlies like her. She learns that the student council at her new school is fucked up and they've all got the same rings as her, which identify them as duelists. They have sword fights to determine who has the right to marry the Rose Bride, a girl called Anthy. Utena thinks this whole system is batshit, but she has to fight duel after duel because she just keeps winning and people keep challenging her. Anthy seems unnervingly chill about a lot of it, but also seems genuinely happier when she gets to be with Utena rather than any of the other freaks who are dueling for her.

Damn everyone in this show wants to beat up Anthy so bad! I mean, Utena doesn't but they're like girlwives so that's to be expected but everyone else loves smacking her around. I can understand why Utena's default response was to go protector mode, even though her attitude of wanting to protect Anthy and fight for her would be the thing that ultimately condemns them to inevitable tragedy.

Spoilers below the gifs!

The rest of this review is going to be messy. I'm not sorry.

At least one of the themes of Utena was unclear to me until after I had watched the movie.

I understood that the school represented adolescence in general and that escaping the school meant breaking free of that and becoming empowered with independence.

At the end of the series, Utena has a sword fight with the big bad, frees Anthy from her prison and presumably dies in the process. She had spent the whole series fighting for Anthy and trying to win her freedom, but the flaw in her thinking is that she never tries to help Anthy by empowering her. She destroys the power structures that were holding Anthy in place, but in the process she destroys herself, when what Anthy needed was for Utena to give her the strength she needed to leave on her own. Even after all the duels fought for her, Anthy doesn't have the courage to take that step by herself, and while Utena is fighting her evil brother, she stabs Utena, which might be the thing that ultimately kills her. Just like how Birdie Wing Season 2 stabbed me in the back after I gave season 1 a 10/10. Utena is dealing with a lot of her own shit this whole time too, which doesn't help her see through to the heart of the matter.

This is contrasted in the movie, Adolescence of Utena, which confused me initially because people had insisted that I watch it after the show and I assumed it might help me to understand more of the show, but it was mostly the opposite.

The movie is maybe an alternate universe, maybe a time loop. It's never elaborated on. The point is it's a retelling but a bunch of the parameters are changed. The relevant part here is that when Utena decides that she wants to help Anthy, instead of fighting her battles for her, she transforms into a car. Cars are used in Utena to represent the power of adulthood and the freedom it confers; the main villain of the series is almost always driving his car and uses it to manipulate and influence people. Utena turning into a car that Anthy can drive to escape the school was the exact thing she needed. From that point, Anthy becomes the protagonist of the film and is able to move forward herself. She is literally in the drivers seat, which is a kind of empowerment that Anthy in the series is never given. This is how I came to understand why Utena failed in the series.

I also liked that in the movie, Utena appears to go into it knowing she likes girls. In the series, there's a conversation towards the end where Juri is talking to Utena about her relationship with Anthy and Utena's response is to push back on the idea that she and Anthy have a romantic connection; she says that it's different from the way Juri feels about Shiori, that it's more "pure". In the movie, when Anthy is insisting that she's become Utena's wife after she wins a duel, Utena's response is that if they're going to have a relationship, they should move forward at a more natural pace. She doesn't deny that they could have a relationship, she just doesn't like that Anthy immediately shifts into wife mode the moment Utena wins a duel. But then they have a romantic dance and it's all good.

I haven't even talked about "all women are rose brides" and it's difficult to put into words how hard that hit me.

The imagery of Anthy in her rose bride outfit speared with a thousand swords holding her in place and the main villain talking about how actually, all women are just like that: items to be owned and preserved in adolescence without any power to choose or act for themselves. This show did so much.

And the Nanami development was unreal. The joke character who has an episode where she's despairing because she's convinced she laid an egg is the character who discovers that Anthy is being sexually abused by her brother. She's just had her own arc where she learns that her own older brother isn't blood related to her. He then comes onto her like, "this is what you wanted right?", and she rejects him. Nanami is repulsed by what she learns about Anthy and even more that Utena continues to live with Anthy while unaware. The way they grow her as a character is incredible. Thanks Nanami. Hit him with the 10 hit combo into command grab.

I could write another entire review just about Juri and her whole deal. Juri is the fencing club captain and she's crushing on the most toxic girl in the universe who's doing the whole Kaguya-sama bit where she thinks that if she tells Juri she likes her then she's losing at love, so instead she keeps getting into other relationships so that one day Juri might get jealous enough that she confesses first, but Juri just continues brooding and yearning. It's that toxic codependent yuri that everyone keeps talking about and this time I didn't even clock it when I watched the show, I need another lesbian to explain to me why people like Shiori. When I watched it, I just assumed she was a bitch! I was the Juri in the relationship, assuming Shiori was just an evil straight girl.

So yeah, everyone was right about Utena. It's one of the lesbian anime of all time. Ikuhara does it again. This guy really is my favourite director. This does mean I have some bias because I love all the things this guy does with his shows. I just need to watch Sarazanmai and I'll have seen them all.

Of course I'm giving this a 10; if not this then what are 10s even for? There's a lesbian sword fight in almost every episode. I'll be thinking about this show for the rest of my life. And I shouldn't need to remind you, but I cannot be killed. Zettai unmei mokushiroku.

Fuck, would it be too cringe to get that as a tattoo?

#lesbian anime review #revolutionary girl utena #shoujo kakumei utena #adolescence of utena

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