#also yellow being their saving grace- the way they were the the light for each other during each other's darkest hours?

[repulsiveliquidation]

Sun to Me || Leah Williamson

For the sake of the story, we’re going to pretend that Zach Bryan’s song of the same name came out way earlier than it really did :) no warnings i think, just a little fluff and angst?

Leah lay in bed wide awake at 5:34 am. The sun was just starting to rise and a sliver of light slipped into the room. She could hear Simon, your dog, walking around the room, trying to find himself a comfy spot to go back to bed. You had your leg thrown over hers, wrapped around her knee. Your breath hit her neck steadily, arm around her stomach gripping her shirt just a little.

Leah had had a bad day. It started with missing the first hour of training because her car had a flat tire that she insisted on changing herself when she didn’t really know how. You jumped in and saved the day when you heard her grumble in frustration as you enjoyed your morning coffee on the balcony above her.

Then she hurt her hamstring during training with Arsenal just a day after being announced in the England squad again. She called you sobbing, feeling angry with herself for being reckless and impatient. Again, you swooped in and met her in the training room in record time, pulling your girlfriend into your arms to comfort her.

Hauling her into your car an hour later, you surprised her with sunflowers in the passenger seat for her. She stood at the door and just stared at them, caressing the bright yellow petals with gentle fingers.

“How did you have time to get them? To get me?”

“Funny how fast news travels to me when it concerns you, Lee. You know I’d drop everything for you.”

“Who called?”

“Who didn’t?”

Leah sighed and looked down at you, pushing a couple of loose hairs from your bun out of your sleeping face. The look of pure calm on your face reminded her of the first time she met you. The scrawny kid trying out for the football team back home in Milton Keynes. Eleven year old you had braces and pigtails, an Arsenal jersey 2 sizes too big on, boots that were also too big, and a look of panic that none of the other girls had.

You immediately made it clear that your parents signed you up for an after-school activity that you were not particularly fond of. However, with some tips from your three older brothers and a stern warning from them about keeping up the family name, you made it on the team. Leah was also picked and you two made quick friends.

Your agility and smaller stature gave you the advantage as a striker while Leah’s taller, more athletic build benefitted her as a defender. You two had undeniable chemistry on the field and it showed on game days. Her long balls always found your feet and were almost always converted into goals. She just had to glance up at you to see you already looking at her, waiting for the ball.

By the time you were 17, your feelings for each other could no longer be ignored. For the sake of the team, you both had kept it to yourselves and pined for each other day in and day out but when the reality of Leah getting a position on the Arsenal first team came up, you couldn’t let her leave without a confession.

You pulled her into your room the night before her last game for the home team, shooing your roommate Grace out of the room for the night.

“You ready for tomorrow?” she asked sheepishly, standing awkwardly in the doorway of the hotel room. You sat on your bed and picked at your thumbs, confession right on the tip of your tongue. Leah could sense your nervousness and knew you were hiding something.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and balling your fists. You took a deep breath, opened your eyes, and screamed, Leah standing in front of you with her face in yours.

“Don’t do that!” you yelled and hit her arm, watching as she flopped back on Grace’s bed laughing.

“Leah?” you call, the tension in the room broken. She chuckles just a little as she remembers the look on your face, sitting up and looking across from you.

“What’s up?” she questions, foot bouncing furiously. You reach over and rest a hand on it, immediately noticing her calm.

“I really like you. I realize that I have for a long time and the idea of you not knowing while you move up in football scared me. I know you probably don’t feel the same way and that this could ruin what we have but I couldn’t go one more game without you knowing how I feel about you.”

You carefully look up and expect anger on her face but are met with a look of love. Before you could say anything her lips were on yours, soft and warm. They molded perfectly in yours, that tingling sensation in both your stomachs. You fall back and she follows, lips never leaving yours.

She pulls away first and smiles, moving off you to lay beside you. You snuggle into her side like you are in the present, hand right over her rapidly beating heart.

“Will you be mine?” she asked after the game the next day on the bus home. You two were tucked away in the back of the bus, hidden from everyone else. Her hand found yours and held it in her lap, thumb gently rubbing the back of your palm as you shared earbuds. Zach Bryan’s raspy voice filled both your ears as you moved to lay your head against her chest.

You fell asleep to his voice and her hand in your hair, gently awoken 2 hours later with Leah’s Arsenal jacket draped around you. She walked you home hand in hand, face falling when she reached your doorstep.

“I leave in the morning with Mum,” she told you quietly, face fixated on the ground. You stood on the steps of your house, bags piled by your feet. A tear falls and hits her sleeves in her hoodie pocket and the dam breaks. She falls to her knees and you catch her, hugging her tight as she wishes you could come with her.

“I’ve got other plans for my future, Lee,” you tell her, tears filling your own eyes. “But all those plans have you in them, I promise.”

You take her face in your hands and her eyes are still watery. You wipe the stray tears away and smile, leaning in to peck her lips.

“I’ve waited a lifetime for you,” you whisper, “now I get the spend it with you.”

Leah glances at the clock and it’s almost when your alarm goes off. Simon jumped onto the bed fifteen minutes earlier and curled up by your feet, now fast asleep like his mum. She slipped out of bed as carefully as she could but Simon woke up when the blanket shifted. You remained in deep sleep, rolling over onto Leah’s much warmer spot on the bed.

She tiptoed out of bed and Simon followed, the little pads of his feet echoed in the living room as she poured his kibble into his bowl. She started the coffee machine and pulled out your favorite to make for breakfast, thankfully it was simple and hard to burn. As the toaster oven heated a couple of frozen waffles, Leah set out to clean the living room just a little to ease your load.

She laid the blanket over the couch and began to clear your notebooks when one of your sticky notes slipped out of it. She randomly stuck it back into your notebook hoping it wasn’t important when your pretty writing and her name caught her eye.

She opened the notebook and gasped, your writing was perfectly cursive and left no wasted space in the margins. You had been researching her ACL injury extensively, working closely in your clinics to find out why female athletes were plagued with this injury.

After Leah left for Arsenal, you pursued a lifelong dream of medicine, specifically as a sports medicine physician. After a career-ending knee injury for your father, he channeled his dream of playing professional football onto his children. Your brothers all became successful athletes, playing for fantastic clubs but you loved treating them when they got hurt. While you were still a great footballer, in the operating room was where your talents shone.

Having performed Leah’s surgery yourself, you drove deep into a rabbit hole of research to find out why this was common in women’s sports, specifically football.

Leah came home one day and felt the world crumble before her. She missed football. She missed being on the pitch. She missed getting teased by the girls for loving you so deeply. All she wanted was to come home and hear you yell at her for not putting her kit bag away or for forgetting to pick up celery like you’d asked. All she wanted was to see you wearing her jersey in the stands next to her family while she raced across the pitch to tackle someone or to watch the girls fawn over you when you brought coffee on Saturdays.

That day, she came home to an empty house. Simon was with you at the office and there was a note on the fridge for her. It told her you had an emergency surgery and to not wait up for you, and that there was dinner in the fridge for her too.

She sat in the living room in silence, the tinnitus in her ears the only constant in the room. Her leg was propped up like it should be and iced all around. The TV remote was too far to reach and her music player too far to set up. Her voices in her head were taking over the buzzing and she was slowly sinking in on herself.

What if she didn’t make it back to the team?

What if they didn’t want her to play for them again?

What if they found someone better than her?

What if they…

“Leah?”

Her head whips up and some tears fly off her cheeks with the speed. You’re standing in front of her in your scrubs and a wagging-tailed Simon by your side. He jumps onto the couch and settles beside her, you joining him seconds later. You caress her cheek and wipe her tears away, pressing your lips to hers.

Words aren’t necessary for her to tell you what was wrong. In her haze, she was beating herself up verbally and you had heard every word come out of her mouth. Your heart broke and felt heavy, she’s been struggling and kept it hidden very well.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she weeps, clutching your shirt tightly. You cradle her face like you did all those years ago on your doorstep. She looks up at you with that same watery look and you peck her lips just the same.

“You can and you will, Leah. I’ll be here every step of the way.”

The lyrics to Zach Bryan’s song that was playing from the music player pulled her out of her thoughts and the smell of burning waffles reminded her of why she was still here.

“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.”

#leah williamson #leahwilliamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #england wnt #lionesses #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagines #woso community #woso one shot #woso #zach bryan #sun to me

[mellifluouaamor]

TANJIROU KAMADO ⍣ FEMALE READER

synopsis. tanjirou thinks you're like a flower.

you're just like a wisteria flower, TANJIROU would always think to himself. beautiful and elegant, kind yet resilient - and your beauty was akin to that of a blooming flower. there's an air of tranquility around you whenever you're on the battlefield, the smile you'd wear soothing your frazzled teammates and reassuring them that everything will be okay.

tanjirou never regretted meeting you that day - the day he saved you from being devoured. you were the only survivor of the squad that was sent to the inn infested by a formidable demon, and he clearly remembered witnessing you struggle to live as you fought with a breath style that he had never seen before: the breath of ayatori style. it appeared to branch off from the breath of love style as it heavily involved agility and flexibility, and the blade of your nichirin sword was also identical to the love pillar's. watching you fight was like watching a dancer perform, and he had never been so mesmerised by graceful movements meant to kill.

after his first meeting with you, the two of you grew closer to each other, and slowly but surely, stronger feelings blossomed in your hearts.

when the sun rose from the horizon, marking the break of dawn, tanjirou was prompted to pick up his pace and ended up jogging the rest of the way to the butterfly estate. he had received worrying news of you returning from a mission severely injured just as he completed his, and he wanted to check up on you as soon as possible.

as he approached the familiar gates of the butterfly estate, he spotted a particular flower growing amongst yellow daffodils. its striking purple colour reminded him of you, causing him to stop in his tracks. would you like this? he could bring it as a small gift since he didn't think of bringing anything for you until this moment.

without another second to waste, tanjirou knelt down and plucked the sweet violet.

❀

tanjirou spotted you lying on your side on the veranda. you were fast asleep, eyelids drawn shut and lips slightly parted as soft breaths slipped past them. traversing the garden, he soon came to a stop in front of your resting form before reaching out to brush away the stray strands of hair covering your face.

he hesitated to wake you up because of how peaceful you looked. although he could have just left the violet for you to wake up to, he wanted to give it to you in person, all so he could see your expression light up like the sky at dawn. tanjirou released a long, drawn-out sigh and then lowered himself on his knees, eyes never leaving you. he subconsciously moved his free hand to cup your face, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek.

as if on cue, you drifted out of your slumber, your eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. a slight frown etched itself onto your countenance when you tried to figure out who was in front of you.

"tanjirou...?" you mumbled, recognising his scarlet hair, "what are you doing here?" stifling a yawn, you carefully propped yourself up on your elbow, kneading one eye with a fist.

"why are you sleeping out here?" he asked, chuckling, "the mornings are still cold."

"i was stargazing last night... i guess i accidentally fell asleep," you replied, scratching your lower cheek sheepishly. you then gave tanjirou your signature smile and added, "welcome back by the way! you must be tired from your mission."

he beamed. "thank you! but i'm probably not as tired as you. you should sleep on a proper bed since you're still healing from your injuries..." his gaze swept over the bandages on your body as his red hues flashed with concern. "how are you feeling?"

"some parts of my body are sore, but i'm generally feeling okay. kochou-san said i should avoid strenuous work for now," you said, shifting your body to sit properly.

suddenly remembering the flower in his grasp, tanjirou presented you with the sweet violet he had intended to give you, making your eyes widen.

"it's for you!" he chirped, "i found a flower that reminded me of you on my way here. i... think it suits you."

your cheeks heated up at his remark. with a shy "thank you", you happily accepted the flower and inhaled its sweet scent. "it smells nice... and it's so pretty."

"just like you," tanjirou blurted out before covering his mouth upon realising what he just said.

instead of getting embarrassed, you surprised him by leaning over to kiss his cheek, eliciting a blush from him.

"you're so cute~" you cooed, giggling.

tanjirou let out a huff. before your brain could register what was happening, you found yourself being carried like a princess in his strong arms. you immediately clung to his shoulders with a squeal, afraid that he might drop you (even though you knew that he wouldn't) as he strode away.

"h-hey! put me down!" you exclaimed, kicking your legs.

feeling a bit bold, tanjirou leaned towards your face and lightly bumped your nose with his, smiling. your breath hitched in your throat; that little gesture was effective in silencing you as he brought you inside the infirmary and tucked you in bed.

truly, you're a flower he wants to protect with his life.

#loveletters—! #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #scenario #female reader

[thatfanfictionchick]

Hold on

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

Riddle and Leona

Rating: Uh T maybe?

Warnings: Battles with beasties; Broken bones; Light blood mention;

Word count: 943

Notes: So uh @insertsomthinawesome 's whumptober piece really got me in all the right feels. Also if you don't know what a Bulette is have a gander.

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

It was supposed to be a simple pest job. It seemed some rogue fairies had made friends with some common rats and were in cahoots to steal magestones stored beneath the school. Riddle assured Crowley he could handle taking care of a few stone-stealing rodents by himself and descended into the caverns beneath the school alone. The only problem was that he found no rodents and an abundance of small magestones. He did, however, find some rather alarming marks on the walls and crushed fragments that suggested larger magestones had been absconded with. When he came across a forbidding looking tunnel dug up through the floor he realized there was a much larger problem at play and decided reporting back to Crowley was the wisest move.

Then came the noise. An almost melodic tinkling as glass and stone in surrounding crates bumped together. A low vibration that grew to make the ground beneath him roil violently. Something heavy shattered and Riddle looked at his feet. From the ground!?

He sprinted across the open area as a hulking figure burst from the hard earth, the creature emitting a painful, guttural screech. A Bulette. Riddle's blood ran cold. As far as he'd known such creatures didn't live on Sage's Island. Large, fast, vicious, natural heavy armor that repelled magic, it was a task for a group of mages to bring one down. He likely didn't stand a chance alone. He wasn't the fastest, but he'd have to make it through the connected chambers and back to the stairs ahead of the monster. His saving grace was that Bulette's didn't have any magical abilities…

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than the animal was opening its massive jaws, gaping maw aimed in Riddle's direction. There was an ominous sound as it inhaled deeply, its great gray body swelling with the intake of air. He only just managed to dive out of the way as a spray of ground up earth and rock blasted across the cavernous area, hitting the ground with a grunt and rolling several feet. The act, as well as the speed of the projectiles, was unnatural. The magestones, he thought with horror. It's been eating the magestones. He sprang to his feet, the ground shaking as the beast rushed toward him. He barely had time to start running when he was sent sprawling by another upward explosion.

A second Bulette clawed out of the ground, drawn by the ruckus of the first. One of them, Riddle couldn't say which as he scrambled away on all fours, let out an angry bellow and the behemoths collided, jaws and claws clashing. Riddle was all but forgotten by the beasts as they fought to consume each other. Unfortunately being forgotten didn't keep him out of danger and as one armored body was flung it rolled over his leg. He couldn’t hear anything over the grunting and bellowing, but the searing pain that radiated from his ankle was telling enough. As the beast got to its feet his fears were confirmed, his foot sitting oddly. His ankle was broken. A few feet away the familiar and unwelcome sound of sucking air made the hair of his body stand on end. The first Bulette was preparing to levy another attack at its rival, and Riddle was stuck directly in the line of fire. His magical pen had been lost in the melee leaving him as defenseless as a sitting duck. As the beast unleashed its assault Riddle threw himself to the ground, bracing for the pain to come.

It didn’t. Instead a thrum of familiar magical energy washed over him, sending the earthy bullets ricocheting. Riddle lifted his face out of the dirt. Yellow vest, tail thrashing in anger (or excitement, who could say). “Leona!” If he heard he didn’t respond. Leona may have aced magical protection well before joining NRC, but with only a second to intervene he’d thrown the bulk of the barrier to cover Riddle and now sported a shredded sleeve and a cut over his eye that rapidly started dripping blood down his face. Both Bulette’s froze for a moment, beady eyes glued to the brightly colored newcomer. Leona braced his feet, drawing a careful line with his pen.

“King’s Roar!”

The effect wasn’t immediate. Both animals stamped and reared before leaping at Leona with echoing bellows, the spell taking them from the inside out. There was an almost artistic sort of grace to the way their bodies disintegrated midair, the sound of falling sand like rain. By the time the last of it hit the ground Leona had already found two pieces of destroyed crate, straightening Riddle’s leg despite his pained objections and splinting the broken bone by yanking off his tie and wrapping it tightly. The underclassmen cried out but Leona, ears rotated back and down, was listening to the things Riddle couldn’t hear. He had no time to waste on gentleness. “There’s more comin’.” Riddle, cold with shock and fear, tried to argue that he couldn’t possibly walk but Leona was already pulling him up by the arm, turning to pull it around his shoulders and ordering “up!” Teeth gritted, Riddle braced his good foot and jumped onto Leona’s back.

Across the cavern another monstrous shape was emerging from the tunnel. Riddle pressed his face into Leona’s shoulder (he would attempt to feel ashamed of his fear later and would instead be mollified into silence by Leona telling him that anyone would have been afraid). Leona gripped his pen tightly in one hand and Riddle’s injured leg in the other. “Hold on, kid.” he growled. “We’re gettin’ out of here.”

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

SHOW ME THE SWEET SWEET REBLOGS

#*sprinkles some D&D in your TWST replaces the lid and shakes vigorously* #i really had no control over this my brain and hands were separated from the rest of me apparently #whumptober i guess #twisted wonderland #twst #twst riddle #twst leona

[missfraise]

The Voices, the new Heroes of Earthbread

Decades after the defeat of Dark Enchantress Cookie, a new menace appeared: Shadow Witch Cookie.

The Ancient Heroes, GingerBrave & Friends, and other cookies tried to stop her, but their attacks only made her stronger in their first fight against her... All, but ten Cookies, graced with Soul Jelly, sources of Light and Dark magic, balancing each other, also called The Voices.

The ten Cookies, split into two teams, work together to find a way to stop Shadow Witch Cookie and her minions.

Team 1:

Choco Duo Cookie

Son of Pure Vanilla and Dark Cacao, half-brother of Dark Choco and full brother of Trichoco, Choco Duo, also known as Chocoduo, Double Cacao Chocolate (full name), or "The prince of Secrets", is a young man who has a memory as good as Tarte Tatin Cookie.

As a child, he lost his arms and legs to save a dragon egg. As a thank you, the egg's mother replaces his lost limbs with new ones made of Cake Dragon's dough with the help of Red Velvet Cookie. The dough, at first shaped like Cookie limbs, became more and more like dragon's, and the boy became, well, half Dragon.

Today, he is one of the pretenders of the title of Dragon King (despite himself), and created the Two Moons Crescent Court with his lover Sunflower Cookie. He's always followed by North-Weast and South-Weast, two of the four little dragons following him and his sister around (who look a lot like the Twins Dragons ...)

His Soul Jelly is an orange crescent moon, the Voice of Memory, placed on his chest.

Trio Choco Cookie

Daughter of Pure Vanilla and Dark Cacao, half-sister of Dark Choco, and full sister of Choco Duo, Trio Choco, known more as Trichoco, Triple Bittersweet Vanilla Chocolate, or Tritri by her bothers, is a young woman who's a hothead and loves fighting. She is the youngest sibling.

She is a big admirer of Berries Choco Cookie, Dark Choco's late mother, and wishes to be just like her: great and powerful. She loves her friends and family more than anything, but she will find any reason to train with them at any hour of the day and night. Even if she's known as the Voice of Victory, it is not unusual for her to lose her fights against her friends and loved ones.

Today, she is one of Dark Choco's advisors. She's always followed by North-East and South-East, two of the four little dragons following her and her brother around (who look a lot like the Twins Dragons ...). She is best friends with Pepper Jelly Cookie.

Her Soul Jelly is a red spike, the Voice of Victory, placed at the end of her spear.

Sunflower Cookie

Sunflower Cookie, previously known as Yellow Rose Cookie, is the eldest child of the Roses Family and Choco Duo's lover and "mind guard".

When they were a child, they were abandoned by their mother, Burgundy Rose, in the woods where she gave them up to the hungry beasts living there. In their journey to find a new home, they meet Choco Duo, who had run away from the Citadel due to the bully the little prince got from being a new half-dragon. After convincing the boy to go home and with the help of one of Affogato's icecream clones, the two children manage to go back to the Citadel, and seeing how much the freckled cookie helped his son, Pure Vanilla proposes to the child to stay with them.

Sunflower is a protective cookie that will hold grudges on anyone who hurts Choco Duo. One of his catchphrases is "The prince is merciful. I am not."

Their Soul Jelly is a turquoise crescent moon, the Voice of Reason, placed on his staff, on the sunflower's heart.

Blackberry Nightshade Cookie

Blackberry Nightshade, also known as Nightshade, is a citizen of the Hollyberry Kingdom and the youngest member of the team.

Born without arms, she uses the little of magic she has to make some and can sometimes turn them into claws.

She met Choco Duo, Trio Choco and Sunflower when the two royal siblings came to visit Hollyberry Cookie. The young girl was dared by her mean cousins to ask the prince to be her friend while handing her claw for a shake in public. The prince happily accepted it, to the surprise of every Hollyberian, including Nightshade, until she saw the two clawed hands around hers.

Today, she is a dancer in the Hollyberry Palace and is in a relationship with Pineberry Cookie.

Her Soul Jelly is a deep blue berry, the Voice of Resolutness, placed on her chest.

Tenili Cookie

Tenili Cookie is a decapitated mummy-like Cookie and the oldest member of the Voices with Seaglass Cookie.

Tenili is a silly daydreamer who loves butterflies, to the point he cut his soul jelly to give it a butterfly shape. He sometimes sent one of his butterflies to give hope to his friends.

Before joining the Team, Tenili "lived" mostly in the Digital Golden Cheese Kingdom, using his stips connecting his body parts to "fly" around (Spiderman-like). He is in a relationship with Seaglass Cookie.

His Soul Jelly is a marron butterfly, previously an oval, the Voice of Hope, placed on his hair.

Team 2:

Frangipane Cookie

Frangipane Cookie is the fourth child of Clotted Cream, Financier, Wildberry and Crunchy Chip. She is the biological daughter of Clotted Cream and Financier. She is the future head of Scone-Custard House and a talented technician and inventor. Her mentors are Espresso, Strawberry Crepe, and Mulled Juice.

She has to use a cane to walk medium to long distances and use her inventions for travel.

Frangipane is a very serious Cookie, to the point she sometimes starts fights with Trio Choco or Alpha Cookie. Although she likes children, they don't usually like her back, including her little siblings at first, which makes her a bit sad. Surprisingly, she is best friends with Seaglass Cookie. She is in a relationship with Jelly Pepper Cookie.

Her Soul Jelly is a peach clover-like, the Voice of Justice, placed on her shoulderplate.

Pineberry Cookie

Pineberry Cookie is the child of Strawberry and Wizard Cookie and the godchild of Gingerbrave and Custard Cream III.

Pineberry was born with only one eye, their Soul Jelly replacing the missing one. They use their magic scarf as a weapon, mostly as a shield, but have a good manipulation of ice magic.

They are a bit shy, but also pretty smart, usually the one the team asks for new plans or advice when Frangipane is unavailable. They are in a relationship with Blackberry Nightshade Cookie.

Their Soul Jelly is a white/ pale colors four branch star, the Voice of Forgiveness, placed where his left eye should have been.

Seaglass Cookie

Seaglass is a Gem Mermaid squid-like Cookie and the oldest member of the Voices with Tenili Cookie.

Little is known about Seaglass, but if you are somewhere with a source of water near, you can expect him to burst out of it and either cause trouble or help the ones in need.

Seaglass is a malicious troublemaker, but he loves children and babysits the Berries Triplets (WildChip's second set of triplets) often. He is best friends with Frangipane and in a relationship with Tenili Cookie.

His Soul Jelly is a black tear shape, the Voice of Vengeance, placed on his belt.

Pomegranate Mochi Cookie

Pomegranate Mochi Cookie, also known as Mochi Cookie, is one of Dark Enchantress Cookie's clones, created by Matcha Cookie.

Created to be a perfect clone of DE, Matcha treated her harshly, believing it would make her more evil, and therefore more powerful, than their original source, despite the love for her daughter. It however backfired, making Mochi powerful but kinder. When Shadow Witch steals DE powers, Matcha and Mochi run away with Red Velvet and the Cake army to warn the Heroes of the danger.

In the Creme Republic, she meets the Gem Mermaid Carnelian Cookie and falls in love with her. The only ones to know her secret are Choco Duo and Seaglass.

Her Soul Jelly is a purple pie, the Voice of Union, placed on her Shamisen.

Pepper Jelly Cookie

Pepper Jelly is the son of Eternal Sugar and Burning Spice and the first cookie who was able to injure Shadow Witch Cookie.

Unlike his parents, Pepper Jelly wants to help cookies, and works hard to prove he is a "good cookie". He is the first to find a way to hit Shadow Witch Cookie.

Pepper Jelly is a loud and brave cookie, who doesn't hesitate to jump into battle. His best friend is Trio Choco Cookie and he is in a relationship with Frangipane Cookie.

His Soul Jelly is a light green kite, the Voice of Trust, placed on his chest.

#my art #au #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cookie run oc #cookie run au #choco duo cookie #trio choco cookie #sunflower cookie #blackberry nightshade cookie #tenili cookie #frangipane cookie #seaglass cookie #pineberry cookie #pomegranate mochi cookie #jelly pepper cookie #the voices au

[codyiselsewhere]

Scarecrow - Short Story

**TRIGGER WARNING! This story contains mentions of self-harm, death, and sadistic things that aren't for the faint of heart.**

It was fall at the Cullen residence and Cody had been preparing for Halloween for numerous weeks now. It was his favorite time of year and he loved doing everything with it. All the pumpkins, the decorations, making everything fall-inspired.

He started getting everything ready back in September and was almost done setting everything up. All of it looked beautiful, neatly organized and decorated. There was just one more thing missing that needed to be put up. The beloved Scarecrow.

Putting up the Scarecrow was the hardest of tasks for him, but it had to be put up to complete the perfect picture of a beautiful fall season. This wasn't something he usually did, but this time around, it was beyond important to him for more reasons than one. He had built the wooden frame weeks ago, coincidentally, it turned out to be the Citizen Soldier symbol.

He had put the frame in the center of his yard, in between the golden, orange and light brown grass, making it also lean a certain way. Now the only thing missing was the figure hanging from it. Walking back inside, Cody grabbed his ragged light brown top hat, rope, nails, and hammer from the counter, and headed back out. He slid the hat on his head, at a certain tilt. Only his grey eyes were now visible from underneath it.

The wind blew as he got outside, blowing his fading shirt open a bit and making the skin on his face drip a bit as he headed over to the center of the yard. Taking the rope, he tossed it over the sides of the upper piece of the wooden frame, and tied it loosely, creating a loop on each side.

Cody then leaned against it, placing one hand on it and nailed his left hand in place, directly in the center of the loop, and moved onto his right. He couldn't feel the pain anymore, having been numb to all of the world for numerous months. Smiling softly, it was now all over. This all began during the middle of August and it led him here.

Now, everything was perfect. The perfect fall house, the Scarecrow. He hung from the wooden frame, face dripping from having cut the skin to make a brand new face, grey eyes not having any shine to them, hat and shirt the same tattered light brown, his skin and pointed nails being a yellow-ish white. It all made sense now. All the references, all the perfect things being in place.

Cody was now the Scarecrow, knowing he was better off this way, being fake, finally having some peace in his life. It was more than a saving grace for him. He had killed himself a long while ago, but nobody knew that they weren't talking to him, but instead talking to a Scarecrow. Disappearing like this hurt less, instead of asking for help.

The only thing left behind was a note on the back table: "You can't kill me if I'm already dead, buried alive by the things that they've said, I killed myself, but no one knows, you're not talking to me, you're talking to a Scarecrow." And then the wind blew again, blowing the note off the table, causing it to eventually land at the Scarecrow's feet, bringing everything full circle.

#music #mentalhealth #citizensoldier #scarecrow

[redflagbreakfast]

Journal Entry 3- Namaste

Ugh, this is why I don’t drink anymore, I thought as I peeled myself out of bed, feeling like a human piñata after a night of indulgence. But there was no time to dwell on my questionable choices, I had a sunrise yoga class on the beach to attend.

Most people on vacation would opt for a lazy morning in bed, but not me. Oh no, I was a total masochist, running on fumes and pushing myself to the limit as I tried to conquer the world one business venture at a time. I had even at one point in the night woken in a night terror, scaring Melania shitless as she attempted to wake me from my apparent screams…This would result in being banished to the couch for the remainder of the trip..but could anyone really blame her? Early in our friendship, she had done the same to me. I didn’t even know she spoke Russian until that night when she woke me up shrieking in Russian. I thought she was possessed by the devil himself, so maybe this was a form of pay back. Apparently, lack of sleep and PTSD can turn anyone into a bit of a wild card. It makes me wonder, how many times do I wake up in my own bed screaming, with no one to wake me?

As I walked down the dirt path that would lead to the beach, it was finally getting light enough to see. There it was…the ocean. Gosh I want to bring Jack here, I thought to myself as I inched closer and closer to the sand.

Jack is my adorable, stud muffin of a child, who always kept me on my toes.

At only 8 years old, he had the spirit and attitude of a teenager and an unstoppable drive to succeed. He was already making waves as the youngest member of Team USA for karate, having won several amateur world titles. It was clear that he inherited his father’s talent, who was a 16-time world champion in kickboxing and a 7th-degree black belt. Jack had more talent in his pinky finger than most kids twice his age had in their entire bodies. As he grew older, our relationship evolved from “Mommy” to “Mom” to “Bruh,” but despite missing him, I knew that the break from him that weekend was well-earned.

Despite the chaos and sleep deprivation, yoga was my saving grace. It was like a reset button for my mind and body, helping me to stay centered and sane in the midst of a breakup, co-parenting with a narcissist, and juggling multiple businesses. So bring on the sunrise and the sweat, because I was ready to namaste my way to sanity.

As I started my practice, I closed my eyes and focused on my breath. The movements of the poses felt like a meditation, and I felt myself becoming more centered and grounded with each one. It was like all the stress and chaos of my life was melting away, if only for a little while.

As the sun began to rise, I opened my eyes and saw the most beautiful sunrise. The colors of the sky were a mixture of pink, yellow, and orange, and it was breathtaking. In that moment, I felt a sense of peace and contentment that I hadn’t felt in a long time. This had been a rough, frigid winter of let down, after let down.

The salty air filled my lungs and for the moment, I merely existed.

After the class, I went for a swim in the ocean and felt invigorated by the cool water. As I swam, I thought about how important it was to take care of myself, both mentally and physically. I had once been so focused on building my businesses and taking care of my son that I had neglected my own well-being. But now, I was making a conscious effort to prioritize myself and my own happiness.

As I walked back to my hotel room, I felt a sense of gratitude for this unplanned spontaneous vacation and the chance to recharge and refocus. I was grateful Melania had talked me into it, despite the ups and downs of the night before. I knew that the challenges of my life wouldn’t disappear overnight (like Phil would), but I also knew that I had the strength and resilience to face them head-on. And with yoga, the ocean, and a little bit of tequila (in moderation), I knew I could handle anything that came my way.

#yoga #beach yoga #entreprenuerlife #narcissist

[luimagines]

How about meeting the Colors? I think I've read pretty much everything with Four in it so far, and you're a great writer ^u^

Masterlist

OH That sounds like fun! I can do that! Thank you so much for the compliment!

I can't wait to have little lists for each of the boys for solo stories.

Content under the cut!

You hate this dungeon.

The puzzles were stupid. The monsters were stupid. You think the layout is stupid.

This whole situation is stupid.

Four is cool though.

You like him.

Four was taking on this whole dungeon like a beast. An absolute unit.

You know who you’re calling if you end up alone in an ally way and need backup. He’ll have your back in an heartbeat and also help you bury a body should you ask.

Not that you’ve asked Four or even thought of burring a body, but you don’t doubt his dependability when you need him. 

He’s been your sanity’s saving grace.

“I think if we put this key into the platform, it should lower the device and open the door, then we can continue onto the next room.” Four holds up your prize in his hands and moves toward the key hole.

“Four, Smithy, I want to be done.” You groan and watch as his theory comes to fruition and the locked door opens on the other side of the room.

“Well, we have to meet up with the others eventually.” He shrugs. “I bet we’re almost done.”

“Can’t we just... Oh, I don’t know... Leave?” You sigh.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” He smirks, amused at your reactions and willing to humor you.

“Go back the way we came.” You deadpan. “The door is that-a way and we can just go back. No more puzzles, no more monsters, no more trying to figure out where to go next-”

“Completely giving up on the prize at the end of the dungeon that could help us on this adventure and save the world-” Four counterargues in your same tone with a grin.

“Will it though? Will it really?”

“We don’t know until we get it.”

“We could be completely wasting our time and not know until the end.” You groan louder and even lean backwards in a way that can’t be good for your back. “Four, if it weren’t for you, I’d have left ages ago. I’m only still here because I appreciate you and I trust in your ability to cover where I fail because you clearly know what you’re doing.”

“I appreciate you too.” Four grins wider. “Your commentary has been an absolute delight.”

“I doubt that. I thought you would have been tired of me by now.”

“Nah. If it was Legend, I’d probably be fighting him but you get special privileges.”

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.”

You both walk through the door.

“WhAT kiND Of ROom IS THIS?” You screech. 

Before you is an open area where there are multiple doors, each with a color on top of them. There’s a red door, a blue door, a green door, a purple door, and a yellow door.

Next to you, Four hisses and bites his lip.

Your head snaps in his direction and you can’t help but sneer. “OH BuT thERe’s a PriZe at ThE End THat cAN SaVe the WOLrd.”

Four doesn’t look in your direction even as you mock him. He’s too focused on the problem before him, trying to think of an solution. There’s only the two of you here and the others are on the other side of the whatever map they must have found. “This is a problem.”

“You don’t say.”

“I have a solution.”

“We leave.”

“No.”

“Link.” You whine and pull your hands through your hair, barely restraining yourself from ripping it out.

Four takes a breath beside you and reaches for his sword. “If I fix this and solve this, you have to promise to keep it to yourself. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Is something going to explode?” You don’t even look up. “I can keep that a secret. Please tell me something explodes. I feel like something should explode. I don’t think I can tolerate any more shenanigans.”

“Um-”

“Four. Please. Don’t do this to me. What are you planning?”

“Close your eyes.”

You fall to your knees with your head down and take a long breath. A bright light shines throughout the room for a fraction of a second and then silence.

You hear Four call your name and you gather your courage to lift your head.

Before you stands not one, but four... Fours... Each in a singular colored tunic with corresponding designs from the previous corner they inhibited on Four’s typical tunic. 

“Is your nickname a pun?” You glare for a moment.

The red one snickers with a hand over his mouth. The blue one glares at him as well and crosses his arms. “I can say, I did not have any say in that.”

“It is clever though.” The green one shrugs with an easy going grin.

You look over to the purple one as the other three begin to argue, good naturedly or so you think. He’s staring at you just the same with a neutral expression before he raises his eyebrow. “You’re taking this a little better than we thought you would.”

You lean back and sit down properly on the ground, putting your hands behind you and looking at all of them with scrutiny. “You’re the evil one I bet.”

Purple Man smirks, the most emotion he’s shown since they split. “The worst of of us is actually Red.”

“But Vio is the most ruthless.” Said Red happily skips over the other two and wraps an arm around “Vio”.

“Guilty as charged.” He shrugs.

“Vio?” You tilt your head. “Oh my god, are your nicknames colors? Is that supposed to be short for Violet? Did you not want to be purple or something?”

“Vio is short for violence.”

“Which I will be partaking in, the second we go through these doors.” You deadpan and get up. You look over the small group that you’ve formed and run a hand through your hair. “This explains so much.”

“Well, you’re right about our nicknames!” Red grins at you good naturedly. “I’m Red. This is Vio as we’ve just discussed. And that’s Blue and Green.”

“I’m learning so much.”

“Ok, well-” Green shoves Blue hard enough that he falls on the ground and makes his way over to you. “If we each take a door, we can make it to the other side, get through this, and meet the others on the other side.”

“Hey! You’ll pay for that!” Blue stands up and storms over.

“I...think I’m done.” You rub a hand over your face harshly and sigh. “This.... Link, I’ve reached a thresh hold of shenanigans. I’m heading out.”

“No, you can’t!”

“This is me Leaving.” You throw your hands up and begin to leave the way you came, only to find that the door behind you is locked.

At least there’s no monsters to fight.

You hate this dungeon.

“I hate this dungeon.” You seethe.

“We take our colors and you take the yellow door?” Blue offers.

You spin on your heel and take a deep breath. Spite and rage fuels your being and you nod to the four of them. “First one to make it through gets the other’s dessert.”

“Even if we merge again?”

“That’s four against one.”

“Believe me.” You crack your knuckles and head toward your door. “That’s not what I’m concerned about. I’ve got some issues I’ve got to work out.”

“Prepare to lose your sweets.” Blue grins and mimics your motions. 

“I want a full explanation when we’re done with this.” You put your hand on the door knob and twist it.

The others follow suit and they all share matching gremlin like grins.

“We can do that.”

You nod. “Ok. Ready?”

“Get set!”

“GO!”

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #I love Four #Can you tell? #This was fun to write #I ended up restarting it because I was unhappy with it but once I got a groove going I couldn't stop #I had no idea how to end it exactly though #can you tell #I hope you guys enojyed! #linked universe

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 26

part 1 | part 25

a/n: no matter how long you have been here, just know i'm extremely grateful for anyone who's read this fic. now here's the latest chapter.

Sometimes it felt like the days dragged on. Each and every hour was laid out just like the day before–the week before. It made time seem endless, even though Y/N knew it definitely was not. Sozin’s Comet was getting closer and closer each day. Y/N didn’t know if it was the anticipation for that long fated day or if it was some buried fire bender gene in her body, warning her of something to come. She could feel it deep within her bones. She woke up earlier and earlier each day, no matter how late her night ended up. And each day the sun greeted her with warm yellow light that made the air a little easier to breathe.

As they moved further south and into Fire Nation territory, Zuko made mention of Ember Island as a place to hide out. The island–or chain of islands, really–were close enough to Caldera City that it would be a good place for them to lay low and wait, as well as uninhabited by enough people that they could lay low.

Y/N thought it was a little risky to be living in the Fire Lord’s Ember Island house, but Zuko was probably right, this was going to be the last place anyone would look for them. Maybe Y/N was just unsettled about being back, so close to Caldera City, or maybe it was being back on Ember Island for the first time since she was 9.

Somewhere between the temple and the beach house, Y/N tired of training. It just added to the monotony, and so she just…stopped. Instead, she spent her days on the beach, sometimes alone–often with the others though–playing in the tide pools and skim-boarding on the sand. And sometimes, if she felt like she didn’t have enough time on her own to recharge, she’d leave in the night, either through her window or the front door to take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. Only to come back and wake up a few hours later, ready for sunrise.

Today was no different, though the sun was already peeking over the horizon and into her room when her eyes peeled open.

The wooden floors creaked under Y/N’s feet as she crept out of her room silently.

Each board was smooth under her bare toes, not well-worn by many little feet running across them year after year but made that way before they were even built into the house, for no doubt a hefty fee. The beach house was… cold, to say the least. It just felt like each pore of the house seeped something uninviting, reminding them that they shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t just Y/N who felt it, they all spent as little time as possible in the house.

She padded into the kitchen and struck their flint to start a fire under the stove–mostly unneeded since Zuko had joined their group–but wholly necessary when he wasn’t around to be their fire-starter. Y/N didn’t mind doing it this way, it felt nice being able to do something with her own hands for once instead of relying on the others to make clean water or heat up the food. She boiled just enough water for one cup of tea before heading out to the courtyard where she knew at least two of her friends would be awake.

Y/N didn’t like feeling optimistic. It was a terrifying feeling. There was so much riding on their success; she didn’t want to spend so much energy on hoping only to have it all dashed away if things didn’t go their way. It would be too heartbreaking. But watching Aang, she could. They weren’t even sparring and she could see the power behind every blast of fire. And she had hope for their future. She had to; she wasn’t going to lose her friends.

“You’re doing that one wrong,” Y/N said from the shadows on the porch. She held her warm cup to her chest, the breeze blowing in from the ocean was keeping the courtyard chilly until the sun could rise high enough to heat the island.

Aang didn’t seem too surprised to hear her voice. “Doing what wrong?” He asked, confused.

Zuko frowned up at Y/N from his seat on the steps but nodded to Aang. “She’s right, you have to dip further down so when you come up the fire creates more of an arc.”

Aang pushed through a few more poses before Zuko stood up and joined him. Y/N stole his seat and pulled her legs up to cross them. She watched as they moved in tandem, working though the most basic of firebending forms all the way up to a few advanced ones. Memories flooded Y/N’s head so fast it made her dizzy. She remembered sitting just like she was now, watching her two brothers work through their forms when she was younger. On chilly mornings, much like today, she would wrap herself in a blanket nest and sip on tea that was much too sweet as they worked well into mid morning. In a sudden rush of affection she realized she was doing much of the same thing, just years and years later.

Aang had learned fast. That was good. She set down her empty cup as the two boys headed back to her, both sweaty from their training. “Good job, Aang! You’re doing great!”

Aang beamed with pride. “Thanks, Y/N!

“Don’t be so encouraging, he’s still got a lot to learn,” Zuko grumbled, taking a seat on the ground next to her.

Y/N pouted. “He needs encouragement. That’s how he learns.” Y/N learned that from watching the differences between Katara teaching styles and Toph’s teaching styles.

“Speaking of firebending,” Aang kicked his feet against the edge of the steps and looked around like he was avoiding something. “How did you know about the firebending forms?”

Zuko leaned back on his hands. “I’d like to know that too.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I watched my brothers for years, religiously learning all the forms and practicing them on my own. I wanted to be just like them. I guess I still remember them.”

Aang frowned. “It’s not like you couldn’t bend on purpose.”

Y/N was surprised to see Aang look so sad. “I know.” She shrugged and looked away feeling her cheeks redden with both boys staring at her. “I just wanted to be normal so people would stop paying attention to me for the wrong reasons.” She mumbled.

“It made you a better sword fighter,” Zuko said suddenly.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“The discipline and movements. You do the same when you’re fighting.”

“I’ve never noticed, but you’re right, Zuko!” Aang exclaimed.

The thought made Y/N smile. “That was nice of you.”

Zuko rolled his eyes but let the smallest hint of a smile grace his lips.

She looked back to Aang, who still looked a bit hesitant. “Don’t worry about me. How about we go swimming? Before the others wake up!”

Aang perked up immediately. “That sounds great! Let’s go, Zuko!”

Y/N and Aang stood, both looking down at Zuko, who just stared at the ground between his feet. She could already hear him saying no, telling them that he needed to train more or meditate and didn’t have time to run off and play games.

Y/N opened her mouth to tell Aang that the two of them could still go but Zuko spoke up before her. “Yeah, okay.”

Sometimes even on those long, dragging days, it was the little things that made everything better; like playing in the surf with two of your friends.

---

That evening though, Y/N was back where she had started the day, and had decided that everyone in her group of friends, save for maybe Zuko, talked way too much. She craved those moments alone where she just had her thoughts to occupy her. Especially when she had a lot on her mind.

Y/N didn’t want to admit she felt stuck inside with Aang and Katara while everyone else was outside enjoying the evening, but she also felt guilty in turning down their request to help make dinner to just wander around on the beach until sunset. She didn’t help out much with making meals, and she felt obligated to help when she could.

So she was there, sitting on the dinner table, lotus style with a knife and a cutting board and a basket of carrots in need of chopping at her side.

“What else can I do, Katara?” Aang dumped some of the vegetables he was cutting into the stew Katara was currently stirring over the stove.

“Hmm, can you go out and get some more water to make the rice?” Aang grinned and nodded, before running out of the house towards the side of the house where there was a small barrel of collected water.

Y/N smiled to herself at the interaction and continued cutting carrots for Katara, trying not to let her mind wander, but it was hard with the monotonous work and the bad spot she was sitting in.

Just in front of her was the window where she had watched Zuko and Aang train while she made tea that morning, now it showed Zuko and Sokka doing their own training.

Y/N was struggling with more than just feeling like she didn’t belong on the Island. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Sokka, or if she was even going to say anything about her feelings at all. Without the constant traveling and the safety of a hideout, she was able to just stop and let those feelings and thoughts she had been holding back with a dam of fear wash over her.

It was all really confusing for Y/N. And hard to admit.

She didn’t want to face the awkward conversation of asking whether he could always be there for her. She didn’t want to beg him to never leave because she was so insecure. She was so afraid of losing everything and everyone that she was going to do just that because she was afraid of opening up.

What would happen if she never told Sokka she loved him back? Did she even love him back? What did love feel like?

Love with Azula felt like fire, sometimes it burned painfully, but in the good times it filled her with a warmth like never before. Zuko’s friendship felt the same, but it was less like sitting too close to the fire and more like sitting just in the right place where it didn’t dry out your eyes but didn’t make goosebumps grow on your arms. Sokka always felt like a cool breeze, one where you lift your face up to the sky and smile because it always feels like relief. But that’s not what Y/N is used to. How does she know if it’s love if it doesn’t hurt a little bit? How does she know that it's real if she doesn’t have to give all of herself until she is worn to nothing to make it work?

It wasn’t that she was afraid to care for him, she had made it clear that she did. It was just easier on her heart to keep him at a distance for now until she figured they were inevitably part ways. That’s how Y/N saw this all ending. Separated across oceans, back to where they came from, whatever the outcome of the war. Y/N wanted to dream of the possibilities and opportunities where they could be together in the long run, but those were just that, dreams for another lifetime. People from the Water Tribe didn’t marry people from the Fire Nation.

Everything that she learned over the last few months was that nothing was ever set in stone, so why should she and Sokka be.

Y/N stared out the window, pondering when it would all fall apart and sliced downwards on a carrot, but met nothing but the cutting board. She looked down where the knife was closer to her finger than to the carrots. She let out a little inward gasp.

“What?” Katara turned around and asked.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Nothing.” She motioned to the cutting board. “Do you want these smaller?”

Katara eyed Y/N and then looked to the cutting board. “They’re fine. But pay more attention, I don’t know how to reattach fingers yet.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave the wooden cutting board and her fingers until the others came bustling into the kitchen, all talking at once.

Y/N for the most part ignored everyone, until Sokka reached over and snatched one of the slices of carrots.

Y/N nudged his arm. “Can you wait?! I thought you didn’t like vegetables!”

“Aang got me to like carrots!” Sokka retorted, before quickly reaching around Y/N to grab another and popping it into his mouth.

“Why would you be sitting on the table that we have to eat off of?” Suki wrinkled her nose.

“Uh! Katara said I could!” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

Katara whipped around, hands on her hips. “I never said you could, I just didn’t say you couldn’t.” Katara turned back to stirring the stew before muttering under her breath, “Not like telling you no would have made a difference anyways.”

“Hey!” Y/N picked up a carrot and launched it at the back of Katara’s head.

Aang walked back inside carrying a bucket of water, to a kitchen full of chaos. Vegetables were being thrown across the room at one another, as laughter rang out. Sokka, Zuko and Y/N were sprawled on one side of the kitchen behind and under the table; with Suki, Katara and Toph only edging from behind the safety of the kitchen doorway to throw something.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N could hear the exasperation of a 112 year old monk in Aang’s usually cheerful voice.“Uh, guys, what are we supposed to eat for dinner now?”

---

Y/N was dozing against the headboard of her bed that night, when she heard the knock at her door. At first she thought she imagined it, that is until she heard a voice on the other side of the doorway. “Y/N, are you awake?”

Y/N slid out of bed and cracked open the door. She smiled and leaned against the doorjamb, a familiar feeling in her chest.

“Are you afraid that there are ghosts here too?”

Sokka grinned and nodded. “In this house? Absolutely. But I’m not here for that.”

“Oh?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Come outside with me.”

Y/N chuckled. “Why?”

“Please, just come on. No questions.”

Y/N sighed and reached for an old silk robe she found in one of the closets, but her smile never left her face.

To be fair to Sokka, there wasn’t much to surprise Y/N with on an island she grew up on. But that night, the sky momentarily took her breath away.

Sometimes the simplest things were the most beautiful.

“I thought we could come out here; look at the stars a bit. I used to like doing that at home. Though it’s different. The constellations aren’t the same where I’m from.”

“I guess I’ll just have to teach you some.”

Together they laid side by side on the roof, and Y/N pointed out her favorites. The dragon, the jack-rabbit...

After Y/N had told Sokka the story of the Red Queen, some ancient fable of a powerful Fire Lady that was always one of Y/N’s favorites, they both grew quiet, Y/N asked the question that had been brewing on her mind. She worried that whatever she said would mess up the peaceful night they had been having. It felt like she was intruding on a secret that she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Hey, Sokka,” Y/N asked.

“Hmmm,” She looked over and Sokka looked about half asleep already. Maybe this would be good timing.

“Who’s Yue?”

Sokka’s eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. “What?”

Y/N could feel her face flush. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yue.” The word sounded flat and foreign on her tongue. Maybe that wasn’t how you actually pronounced it? Some of the Water Tribe names and words were hard for Y/N’s mouth to form. If she could, she flushed deeper. “I heard you talking about them when I was hurt. I was in and out of it, so I don’t remember much, but I remember the name.”

Sokka suddenly looked very sad. Which was… odd because Y/N just thought that Yue was a Water Tribe spirit much like the Fire Nation had Agni.

“She’s the moon spirit,” Sokka whispered, his eyes cast down on his wringing hands.

Y/N eyes were wide. Why was he acting like this? “Oh. I figured she was a spirit or something. It sounded like you were praying to her, or something.”

“Yeah,” Sokka choked out. “Something like that.”

That’s when Y/N noticed there were drips of water on Sokka’s hands. Tears.

“Sokka?” Y/N said softly. She reached forward and–yup those were tears, dripping on their hands.

“She was a girl I met at the Northern Water Tribe when we first started traveling.”

“I thought she was…”

“She is.” For the first time, Sokka looked up. The pain in his eyes was unimaginable. “But she was still a girl when I met her.”

Sokka launched into a story that sounded more fantasy than real, but the look on his face, the sadness in his features, Y/N knew he was telling the truth.

“She was blessed by the moon spirit when she was born, it was the only reason she was alive. But when we were in the Northern Water Tribe—Zhao, a Fire Nation commander killed the moon spirit and all the water benders lost their bending, forever.” Sokka shivered. “It was scary, the moon was gone in the sky and we were helpless to fight the Fire Nation. It would have changed the tide of the war.

But she was selfless. She knew that she was the only hope for her tribe—for the world—and she sacrificed herself to save all of us. So now she’s the moon spirit…I guess. I don’t know, she’ll always be Yue to me.” Sokka’s voice trailed off with a sniffle. Y/N didn’t know how to respond.

Sokka sent a longing glance upward. The moon was just past full, waning in the far distance but still bright and round in the sky. “I think–I think she heard me that night. And she knew how much you meant to me, even then. And she saved you because…” Now it was Sokka’s turn to flush. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

Those words made Y/N’s chest burn. Her arms and legs tingled in relief as if all the tension in her body began to melt away. Y/N reached out, wiping a stray tear off of Sokka’s cheek. “Me either,” she replied instantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“’m not. Sad, really. I miss her, but it’s easier to always know where she is. She didn’t have a lot of choice in her life, but this was something she had control over. If she hadn’t become the moon spirit, the war would have ended right there. So her sacrifice meant that, you know, Zuko is our friend now and Aang has a chance at beating the Firelord and you have a place in all our lives. She made all of this possible.”

“Sounds like we have a lot more to be thankful to her for than just saving little old me then, huh?”

“You would have liked her.”

Y/N nodded and peered at the moon above them. “I do like her.”

No one else needed to know that after the two of them went inside and off to bed, that Y/N hung halfway out her window to get one last look at the moon. Y/N swore as her eyes closed and sleep overtook her that the moon shone a little brighter. Maybe that’s how the moon said thank you. Y/N’d never tell anyone that she whispered a small thank you too, to the girl who lived among the stars.

a/n: don't be shy, come talk to me in my askbox and tell me if you liked it

taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @creation-magician @lunariasilver @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @solarsuki @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @izzieserra @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103  @im-the-galactic-starfish @charlotteisabella  @sugamonster22  @calumsfringe @whatsuphoesandbros @i-love-superhero @justasukisimp @grouchiest-hufflepuff  @euphoricmads @ivetoldamillionlies @fanficsformyperusal @mikxyu @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @someonekeepstakingmyusernames @earthtokace @justamessandahalf @perfectlyfadingmusic @atlafanforlife @iris-suoh @chilifrylizard2

#sokka x female reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #sokka x f!reader #sokka x reader #sokka fics #atla sokka #sokka #atla fics #atla #avatar renaissance #avatar the last airbender #katara #toph #suki #zuko #aang #azula #ty lee #mai #traitor

[crystal-moon-101]

Since I saw people talking about Ben's little big chill kids, I thought I'd finally do some headshots of my ones, who are also a part of my Ben 10 Next Gen. For me, I've always imagined that for young necrofriggians, they all start out looking the same (Beyond some size difference), but as they grow older, they'll start to develop their own patterns, small body traits and shades of colour, as showcased here. I'll share the little info on each sibling, and the basics of who they are as a person. When Ben first found them again, saving them from poachers and going full mum mode, they had been developing these different psychical traits, but not enough to identify each properly on their own, so while giving them names, Gwen used bandana pieces to colour code them, and each kid still wears theirs to this day, slightly modified. So here they are now, as full grown young adults. You can follow from left to right each row, or just the colours next to their names. -North (Black)- The largest and physically strongest of the kids, North acts as the leading member when Ben isn't around, doing their best to watch out for their siblings and be a middle ground to them. It's been this way since they were born, looking out for them and doing whatever they can to protect the others. This has resulted in North collecting quite a few scars and wing tears, though they wear them with pride, wanting to display how strong they are to others. They often looks up to Ben when it comes to being a hero, in how their mumdad protects others and the galaxy, and wants to be a fighter like him one day, often asking to train with their mumdad whenever he's around. Ben has suggested Plumber training for North, but they're still thinking about that. -Tundra (Red)- Tundra is a very curious one, and is known to wander off when things catch their interest. They prefer using experience to learn from, thus making them quick on their feet when something happens, and good at thinking logical. When the siblings are struggling with something, or come across some kind of problem, it's often Tundra who provides the quickest answers that should go well for them. That being said, due to their wandering, they gave gotten into trouble a few times and need to be saved by their siblings or Ben, as despite how smart they are, they can be a bit of a ditz when something catches their interest. -Grey (Silver)- Having a connection to the earth bellow, Grey often spends their time searching caves, and any hidden areas they can find. They especially love to research and find minerals of any kind, ranging from metals to gems, sometimes even studying their metal lunch for the day before eating it. Because of this, they can be carelessly dirty, and aren't the cleanest of people, but does pick up after themself when reminded. Grey is also pretty close with their sibling Storm, and surprising Gwen and Ben when first hearing the two call each other "Dweeb" and "Doofas", when first meeting them again. -Storm (Brown)- As someone who likes to spend a lot of time flying and high in the clouds, Storm is fascinated by the weather and how it behaves, and feeling the cold fresh air and challenging themself with flight training. This has provided them to have the most agility in the air, and knows the best ways to build up speeds, while also not draining themself. Whenever they aren't flying around, they're doing research on the weather, very keen to be a meteorologist one day. Whenever Ben visits, they will often ask him about the weather on other planets, and any adventures he's had in the sky. Storm is also pretty close with their sibling Grey, and surprising Gwen and Ben when first hearing the two call each other "Dweeb" and "Doofas", when first meeting them again. -Crystal (Blue)- Graceful on their feet, Crystal is a charming and gentle person, with a keenness for the art of dancing, especially when hovering in the air. This was something sparked in them when seeing how the patches in their wings, which are see through, glittered and reflected light through them, making Crystal often move around to see what they could get them to do, and the introduction of dancing was something they latched onto as a result. They are one of the hardest of the siblings to get angry, upset or rile up, and often goes with the flow and speaks in a slow and soft voice. Because of their kind nature and beautiful display of their wings, Crystal has attracted many others who are interested in them, many falling for them after meeting Crystal for a mere minute, though they tend to pretend not to notice, and turn down those who ask. -Orion (Orange)- Having an eye for art, Orion is a skilled painter and drawer, while also dabbling into other art forms to create things, their room filled with their works of art, and often creating gifts for others. From when they were little, Orion has always admired their auntie Gwen, and are always keen and eager to hang out with her when she visits, showing every new drawing and painting they have made while she was away. In fact their fondness for auntie Gwen is why they picked the orange bandana, as it reminded them of her hair. -Neva (Green)- Fashion focused and head strong, Neva is a keen one, who knows exactly what they like and isn't afraid to say it. They love designing things to wear, especially since fashion isn't that big on Kylmyys, and Ben brings them fabrics and items they request from earth whenever he comes by on a visit. Though, despite Neva's expensive tastes, they are most certainly aren't a snob, and more often than not create outfits and accessories for others that Neva knows they'd like, and wants to bring out the best beauty in them. Though admittedly, they can get a bit carried away if someone asks for fashion advice, or even brings up the idea of something related to it. Neva also a bit of a business mind too, having gotten some clients recently on their homeworld after seeing what Neva could make. -Raine (Aqua)- A very sweet young one, Raine has a keen eye for collecting things, particularly shiny or unknown stuff. From gemstones to simple earth utensil, if something interests them, Raine is known to take it with them, sometimes snatching without thinking. They don't mean any harm, and just sometimes think before acting, and will give something back if they've realized what they've done, but if it's clear they can keep it, then they aren't one to share, though do like to show off what they have with joy. They are also very well organized, knowing where everything they own is, and even when their siblings misplace something, having a photography memory and mental list of things. They may own a lot of stuff, but that doesn't mean they want to live in a pigsty. -Vale (Yellow)- Being one of the quiet ones, Vale likes to keep a lot to themself, and don't speak very often, only when they need to. They spend a lot of time outside, observing nature as it passes by them, using a little diary to note down what they see, hear, feel, smell and even taste. They like to appreciate silence and the world around them, and the beauty of nature, and collect little things to store away in their diary as memory. Whenever they visit earth, they love to visit the forests in the spring and summer, seeing the range of colours blooming from flowers, and has many flower prints because of this. -Lux (Beige)- Quite the basic of people, Lux likes to live life in a simple way, and tends to try and stare clear of any chaos, which is quite hard when you have 13 wild siblings. Because of them, they can come across as annoyed and frustrated at times, and can be blunt and honest, but they do love their siblings, and is often the one that says what's needed to be said. Lux also have massive wings compared to their body, a ratio none of the others have, and use to trip over their feet a lot growing up. Now, their massive wings are a great way to hide away when they're not in the mood to talk to read a book, or to hug a family member when seeing them down. -Micha (Pink)- Bubbly and sneaky, Micha has been dubbed the "Pink Ninja" for a reason, someone almost always able to hide away and sneak up on others. They love to jump scare people, and has found more and more crafty ways to get around without being noticed, even without their ability to go invisible. They love to pull jokes and get a laugh out of people, and Micha is known to have a snort with their own laughter. It's always their mission to catch Ben off guard when he visits, as each time it gets trickier due to him knowing it's coming, and his training and skills build up over the years, but Micha always finds a way in the end. -Zodiac (Gold)- Patient and often neutral toned, Zodiac is often seen to be pretty wise. From a young age, they've always loved stories from history, especially those about myths and legends they hear from around the galaxy, and spend a lot of their time reading and researching anything they hear about, always keen to hear a new story they may have never heard about before. It always fascinates them how much Ben has seen and done, and the stories he tells, Zodiac is practically fond of those about Alien X and Celestialsapians, and wants to meet one one day. -Alaska (White)- High on energy 99% of the time, Alaska is always zooming around and never has time to stop. They rarely sit still for long, and it takes a lot to drain them of their endless energy, always moving in a blink of an eye. Because of this, Alaska is the fastest of the crew, which has come in handy often. But they can be easily bored, and a little frustrating to deal with when they don't pay attention, but they do like to spend that energy by jumping around each sibling to spend the day with, and wants to engage in all of their activities to support them. -Arlo (Purple- The smallest of them, Arlo was born the runt of the group, but thanks to their siblings, especially North, they managed to survive childhood when most other necrofriggian runts would have died. This makes Arlo the baby of the group, and the one they all want to protect, even if it can be a little baring at much, wanting to prove they can be strong on their own. And Arlo somewhat got their wish, when reaching a certain age and Ben learning that one of his children had the spark, thus meaning Arlo is an Anodite, and is able to use magic, though they're far from being perfect at it, and their small body sometimes struggles to keep up. But each day Arlo practices, wanting to feel more than just the tiny one, but they are generally kind and great with emotions, being very supportive and just trying their hardest.

#ben 10 #B10 #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 original series #ben 10 ben tennyson #ben tennyson #Ben 10 Big Chill #Big Chill #necrofriggian #Baby Chills #Ben 10 Next Gen #next generation #My Art

[secretfandomrambles]

Children of the Sun

ATLA AU idea

1. After Ursa marries Ozai, she meets and ends up falling in love with Agni (the Sun Spirit) who is masquerading as a guard or a servant while observing the line of Sozin. Agni accidently falls for her as well. After she falls pregnant for the second time Agni is forced to return to his duties in the spirit world.

2. Zuko and Azula are Agni’s children, not Ozai’s. And they have golden hair to match their golden eyes. Everyone believes them to be Ozai’s children though, and simply blessed by the Spirits. Even if they do have weird eyes like those of the extinct dragons.

3. As the children of the Sun, Zuko and Azula are both unable to be burned, even by sunlight, and certainly not by fire. The two children start fire-bending about the same time (Zuko is still not a bending prodigy).

4. Before they are old enough to remember, Zuko and Azula start hearing a voice whispering in their minds, telling them things that go against the Fire-Nation’s propaganda (the Voice also tells them how to sneak around to get more sweets, where to go to avoid that one guard who makes them uncomfortable with his unnerving long stares, and stories of the Voice’s beloved sister, Tui). In short, the children trust the Voice, even above their own parents, and as the Voice encourages them to protect and be loyal to one another above everyone except for the Spirits, they do so.

5. As Azula and Zuko grow, their movements become more and more graceful, their eyes more wild, and their ever-golden hair flickers red and yellow and orange in the corner of other people’s eyes. (This worries their cousin Lu Ten, but the one time he brought it up, Iroh quickly changed the subject). Privately, many begin to ask questions.

Ursa still kills Azulon in the aftermath of Lu Ten’s demise, and leaves in the dead of night. She never suspects their otherworldly origin. Ozai is still a manipulative jerk. But Azula doesn’t give him the time of day. Nor does Zuko.

But everything comes to a head after Zuko goes to a war council, and is then made to fight the man he believes is his father under Agni’s light. And. He. Doesn’t. Burn. Instead, seeing her beloved brother attacked in such a way causes the Dragon in Azula to awaken, and she attacks Ozai in the form of a blue and white dragon. In his shock and confusion, Zuko, as he has always done, follows in his sister’s footsteps, and he too takes Dragon form, but whereas his sister is blue and white, he is gold and black.

The siblings escape the arena and flee outside of Caldera. And they start to discover who (and what) they truly are.

Meanwhile, back in the Fire Nation, Ozai is in shock at seeing his heirs turn into dragons. At first, everyone believes that the two have been abducted by spirits. But eventually Ozai finds out that the children Ursa birthed during their marriage aren’t his, and in fact are half-Spirits (he doesn’t realize whose children they are, doesn’t realize that Agni turned His back on him the moment Ozai laid a flaming hand to Zuko’s face).

He declares both Zuko and Azula to be bastards and orders that they are to be killed on sight should they ever step foot into Fire-Nation territory. While none succeed in killing them, Azula and Zuko eventually become terrified of adults (and people in general) and escape to the abandoned Southern Air Temple.

General Iroh takes a crew and a ship in order to find his once-niece and nephew, to protect them, sailing along chasing every lead for three years. He does this under the guise of hunting them down to remove the blemish to his brother’s name.

At long last the Avatar returns to the world. When he and the two Water Tribe siblings who he’s befriended come to the Southern Air Temple, they find two half-human half-Spirit Dragon children who are near-feral and terrified of everyone except each other.

Aang ends up unofficially adopting them as his family, and is overjoyed when he eventually learns that they are (sort of) his great-grandchildren. Sokka is wary of them (because they breathe fire, and the female looks like she wants to take a bite out of him). Katara just sees two traumatized children in need of help. Needless to say, when the GAang leave the Southern Air Temple, the Dragon siblings go with them.

Iroh is the one who starts hunting them after Aang returns. Although he doesn’t do much more than invite Aang to tea and giving him proverbs and cryptic warnings.

During their travels, Azula lets it slip that Ozai has been trying to kill them since they were children (Katara says they’re still children. Azula says that they stopped being children the day Ozai tried to burn Zuko’s face off: cue Aang going into the Avatar state).

At one point, Aang tried to teach them how to fly in dragon form. It...doesn’t go well. Appa’s attempts don’t go much better.

Azula and Zuko play keep-away with Sokka’s boomerrang after the third time Zuko gets hit in the head with it. Sokka cries when he sees the teeth marks after they eventually (are forced to) give it back.

Bonus: Azula and Zuko joining the GAang saves Tui from Zhao and Yue gets to live her own life. Tui decides she’s had enough of being stuck in a pond and decides to travel in turtleduck form with her niece and nephew. La tags along because he likes unnerving Sokka

Needless to say, this changes things.

#atla au #spirit zuko #spirit azula #Dragon babies #Yue lives #Tui lives #Tui yells at Agni for neglecting his kids. #Because communicating solely by telepathy and letting your children think they’ve lost their minds doesn’t count as spectacular parenting #Sad Iroh #Zuko joins the gAang early #Azula joins too. Someone has to protect her idiot brother #agni

[bimswritings]

Savage Opress x Reader

Request: Open

Warnings:Yandere Themes, canon-typical violence

Summary: On their conquest of the universe, Savage finds himself drawn to one of the newest captives in their spread of power.

A/n: The next chapter of ‘This is our way’ is up on my Ao3. It will be posted here after I finish and upload my current Armorer x reader fic.

__________________________________________________

Your planet wasn’t anything special. Located out in the outer rim, it was little more than a moon compared to its neighbors. Its land was barren and cold, an almost ever present frost covering the ground.

Yet you and your people had made it your home, learning how to grow a small amount of crops and mine the rare metals underneath. A job you had yourself, providing enough money for you and your younger brother to live on until he was old enough to work as well. What was produced was enough to give your people an economy, yet remain under the radar and out of the war that ravaged the rest of the planet. The Republic and Separatist had limited interactions this far out at best, and you were able to enjoy a peaceful life, if not a bit exhausting.

Unfortunately, it was this isolation that had been your saving grace for so long that also proved your downfall.

Their ships arrived in numbers you had never seen before, landing on the grey dirt and unloading copious amounts of armored men and women. Your village didn’t even have time to put up a fight, overpower and subdued before you could even think of a weapon to protect yourself.

Soon you were corralled into the town center, separated into groups seemingly at random. Families were torn apart, mother from child and husband from wife. The entire time your brother clung to your leg, hiding as the armed guards shoved you along through the crowds. You tried to stay out of sight the best you could in an attempt to draw the least amount of attention to yourself, hoping, praying, that you could go unnoticed enough to keep him with you.

Above it all, standing out against the dull sky with their vibrant colors, were two Zabraks. Creatures you had only ever heard about in stories from the occasional trader that passed through, and had been just that, stories, until now. Their horns alone were enough to send shivers down your spine, each one protruding from the crown of theirs heads like a twisted version of a crown. Unlike a crown, you knew they weren’t for decoration. The damage they could undoubtedly do if provoked only solidified their threatening presence.

Now they stood above you all, tattoos illuminated in the light of the setting sun. The shorter red one stood in front, chin raised and chest puffed with pride as he looked over your people with another armored man, this one clearly human. He seemed to not even notice the cold, bare chest on full display for anyone to see the unique markings that marred his skin. Just beyond him stood the second Zabrak. His yellow markings stood out even more than his companions, only emphasized by his large size. None of the others even came close to his height, let alone the bulk you could tell he possessed under his armor. Even from here you could tell he could wrap a single hand around your neck and snap it easily with his strong fingers.

His gaze was just as impassionate, if not more so, seeming more bored than anything as he watched the proceedings.

“Come on! Move it!” One of the guards yelled, catching your shoulder as he pushed you forward, reminding you bitterly of Telik being led to slaughter. You kept Jay close, keeping your head down as you passed more guards, pace increasing. Just a few more yards and you would be with the others. Whatever the future had in store for you, at least you would still have each other.

“Hey, you!” A voice called, clearly directed your way, though you pretended not to hear. A cold sweat broke out across your skin as footsteps closed in, hand reaching out and stopping you in your tracks.

“Children don’t go in this area.” He growled, prying Jay from where he hid, ignoring his cries and your screams as he was pulled away. A guard stepped forward to hold you back, another coming to his aide as you fought to get to your brother, who was making it just as difficult for his own captor to drag him away. Even with the muscle gained from the mines you struggled against them, putting up your own desperate fight.

“Stop moving you little- fuck!” He yelped, pulling his arm away and out of Jay’s mouth, which had latched on to the only unarmored part of the hand holding him.

Immediately he turned and was running back towards you, tears streaming down his face and blue eyes wide with fear. In his panic to get back, his childish coordination caught up to him and his feet caught on one another, throwing him to the ground as he was left to scramble. All the while the guard he had bitten approached. 

“You little brat!” He snarled. His hand moved to his hip, producing a whip from its depths. The long weapon crackled to life, sparking with energy as it extended to full length.

Your own stomach dropped in fear as you watched. 

Jay, the one light in your life, the only person you had left, was in danger. You were his older sister. You were supposed to protect him, guide him into adulthood in place of your parents. Be there to kiss away every injury, wipe away the tears after every nightmare.

A new burst of energy flooded your system, giving you the strength needed to push past the guards, leaving them stumbling as you flew towards Jay.

The man brought his arm down, whip swinging in a wide arc aimed at the defenseless boy on the ground. 

It didn’t even have the chance to hit him. You slid the last few feet on the rough terrain, body covering his at the last second and jolting as the electric weapon met your clothed back, ripping through the material like a stone through water. A pained scream tore itself from your lips. Not even when you had gotten a burn from a small explosion in the mines had it hurt this much. In fact, you would take a dozen burns before this. This was just pure agony, the pain not even limited to a single area as the electricity coursed through every part of your body, invading every nerve.

The man was far from done though, and he repeated the action again and again, turning your skin into a bloody mess as Jay continued to cry underneath you, struggling in your protective grip. Still you held tightly, biting your lip to muffle your cries with every lash.

No one lifts a finger to help, not even looking in your direction in fear of the same treatment as they continue to shuffle along. You don’t even have it in your heart to blame them, knowing your reaction would be much the same if the situation was reversed.

Unbeknownst to you, your little altercation has caught the eye of the golden Zabrak, a small twinge in his heart at the deja-vu feeling he gets from the scene. From your age, he can only assume that the boy is your brother. You look too young for him to be your son.

He has flashbacks to his own brother, giving himself to the cursed Nightsisters in exchange for his life, only to be forced to kill him in a cruel show of power.

Before he realizes it, his hand has fallen to his lightsaber, already taking a step to where you are. He only gets a step before Maul calls to him, pulling him away to the ships and leaving him to look back over his shoulder at you crumpled form.

“Come. We must set up camp. The prisoners will be dealt with later.” Maul chuckles. “Those that survive anyways.”

And so he follows, leaving your fate to the Mandalorian who has yet to relent in his cruelty. But out of sight doesn’t mean out of mind, and the memory of your form curled on the ground, taking every lash with little more than a jolt and muffled cry, sticks in the front of his mind and prevents him from having a single moment of rest.

It's hours before he’s able to slip away. Between his brother and Death Watch, it’s nearly impossible for him to make his way to where the captives are being held. They’re all gathered in one of the far corners of the camp, held in place by the ropes around the wrist and looking miserable as they huddle for warmth against the lightly falling snow. He feels no guilt for what their eventual fate will be. They’re nothing to him, mere insects in his brothers plans. Animals to the slaughter. All for the greater good.

The fear he can feel radiating off them feeds a twisted sense of pride within him. The Sith side of him. They know who he is. They know he could easily kill them with no consequence should he choose. 

He’s not here for them though.

A dozen yards away, your body is still laying in the same spot as before, more lifeless than when he last saw you. This time there’s no Mandalorian enforcer above you. Instead, he’s replaced with the small boy from earlier. What remains of your shirt is peeled back from the skin and even Savage, who’s used to many grisly sights, grimaces at your wound. The skin that isn’t lacerated is red and swollen, and he now notices that the young boy has shed his own shirt, using ripped strips to clean the blood away and form a crude version of bandages. He’s busy fumbling over himself, fingers clumsy and stiff from the cold as he does his best to care for the wound with no medical supplies.

So focused on your wounds, he doesn’t even hear the large Zabrak approaching, not until it’s far too late. To his credit, and Savage’s amusement, the boy refuses to leave you, placing his body in front of yours. His bare chest is rapidly moving up and down with fear, thin body on full display. Not an ounce of muscle on him, Savage muses, moving closer to your body. If he doesn’t get you proper medical attention soon the wounds will undoubtedly become infected and kill you, if the blood loss hasn’t already damned your fate.

When he goes to pick up your limp body however, he’s stopped by your brother. Well, stopped is being rather generous. It’s more like he’s latched himself onto Savage’s waist, small fist beating at him with the strength one would expect of a child. He might not have even known he was hitting him if he wasn’t watching it happen.

It’s times like this that he’s most grateful for his cursed strength, easily detaching the boy from him and holding him by the back of his neck, tucking him under one arm as the other reaches for you. It's almost concerning how cold your body is against his own skin, and he’s more careful as he lifts you over his shoulder. His brother would surely find it laughable if he saw how gentle he was being with you.

Without hesitance, he turns back to the main camp, ignoring the looks the others cast his way as he carries your unconscious and broken body over his shoulder, your brother still fighting under his other.

Let them gossip. There’s none that will stand against him.

____________________________________

The first thing you’re aware of is warmth. Surrounding and enveloping your form, begging you to stay as it threatens to drag you back into the land of dreams. That in itself is enough to alarm you. The heating was always turned off at night to save energy, replaced in favor of thick blankets made from the local TekTek wool.

That’s your second red flag. TekTek wool is warm, yet coarse and scratchy. The fabric currently piled on top of and under you is significantly softer, having a slight musk to it.

Finally managing to drag your eyes open, the sight that greets you is not one you were expecting. 

Dark fabric makes up the majority of the tent you find yourself in. It’s clearly worn, yet does a surprising job of keeping the wind outside from entering, slight ripples waving across the fabric yet never entering. A fire sits in the very center, smoke curling up and through a hole in the ceiling. It’s glow provides the only source of light in the space, illuminating the few objects scattered around, including the cot you currently find yourself residing on. Buried under layers of blankets, your hands travel to the bandages wrapped around your chest, the only thing covering your upper body and providing little warmth in comparison to the blankets you were previously under.

How did you get here? Where was Jay? The last thing you remember was the invaders arriving, then nothing. So the question was, how had you gotten from there to here? Alone in an unfamiliar tent.

Your questions are soon answered, a shuffling from the front of the tent drawing your attention. From between the flaps emerges a large figure, his horns nearly catching the fabric as he enters.

You both freeze, eyes locking on one another, equally surprised. There’s a moment of pause, each of you trying to determine your next move. It’s only broken when he takes a step forward, cautiously, but still sending you into a panic. Ignoring the nearly debilitating pain coming from your back, you scramble to the edge of the cot, pressing your back against the fabric and you can feel it straining against your weight. Trying your best to look intimidating, you send a glare his way.

“Where’s my brother?”

He says nothing for a moment, and you almost repeat yourself, cut off as he begins approaching. He’s there before you know it, long legs easily eating the space as his arms reach for you, forcably turning you around despite your resistance. He lets out a grumble as he inspects your back, scoffing about how you’ve ‘reopened them’.

The next thing you know, his hands are worming their way under the wrappings, loosening them as he goes to remove them.

The panic you had felt before was nothing compared to now, knowing where this scenario was going all to well. The stories of what you had heard from other village girls filling your mind, darkening your thoughts as you could only imagine what this monster was about to do to you.

“No! Stop!” You sobbed, knowing full well that there was nothing you could actually do against his strength. The bandages become looser, only held up by your hand as you wildly swing out with the other. All the while you try to distance yourself from him. 

“Please!”

To your surprise, he pauses. His first sign of even showing he heard you since entering. His gaze never leaves you, and you can see the debate going on within his eyes. About what, your guess was as good as any. All that you cared was that he had stopped for the moment, allowing you to cover yourself with one of the many blankets in an attempt to preserve any decency you had left.

Growling, her turns and storms out the way he came, a wisp of freezing wind invading the tent as you're given a glance at the dark night sky outside before you’re once again left on your own. Not for long though, and you think he’s returned once again when the flaps open, only to reveal a young woman in similar armor that you had seen earlier. Not the person you trusted the most right now, but you still preferred her over the large Zabrak from earlier.

She approaches slowly, setting a medkit down on the bed as she smiles your way. “I’m here to change your bandages.” She extends a hand your way, which you only look at, neglecting to come out of your little corner. 

“Please. You’ve opened your wounds again. If you don’t come out now, I’ll just wait for you to pass out and change them then.” she sounds a bit exhausted, and it takes a few more minutes of coaxing before you allow her access to your back, keeping your back towards her as she slowly unwraps the bindings. She deposits them into the fire, leaving you to watch them burn to ash as she retrieves a small container from the medkit. 

Inside is a blue gel, surprisingly warm as it touches your skin and leaves a pleasant numbness. You can almost feel her gaze burning into your skin as she applies the gel, eyes skittering across old scars, fingers even tracing them when visible underneath the new wounds. Seeming to sense your unease, she rushes through the rest, quickly wrapping new bindings around your torso, apologizing with every small grunt of pain you let out. 

Far too quick for your liking she’s done, packing up her things as she prepares to head out. If she’s leaving, then that means there’s more of a chance that he’ll come back. In fact, you have no doubt that she’ll go and tell him once she’s out of here.

Snapping the case closed, she turns back to you and hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t know what you did to gain Savage’s attention, but believe me,” her green eyes lock onto yours, holding a sense of severity that chills you to the bone. 

“, he’s your best chance of surviving.”

With that you’re alone once again, left to your own thoughts and the crackling of the fire, which has gone down a significant amount since you first woke.

What did she mean by that? Gained his attention? And he was one of the ones who lead the attack on your home. Why would he be your saving grace? If anything, he would be the most likely to kill you.

Once again the flap opens, and you almost want to groan about the number of people going in and out, letting the heat out of the tent.

It’s the Zabarak. Savage, you remember the woman from before calling him. This time he has some additions. A cloak draped over one arm and a plate in hand. He moves slower than before, almost cautiously approaching you as he sets the items on the far end of the bed.

“Eat.” His voice is a deep baritone, rich yet monotone as he speaks, nodding towards the plate before moving towards the fire. Your eyes never leave his form as he tosses more wood onto the flame, moving them about without a fear of burning himself. Despite the fear still gripping your nerves, the food is tempting and only now do you realize how empty your stomach is, almost turning in on itself as it lets out a low rumble.

You grab the plate cautiously, picking at its contents as the man continues to poke at the fire. When you do finish, you find yourself wishing you had taken more time with it, no longer having the small distraction from your current situation. Despite the desire to throw on the warm looking cloak, you don’t. While he had directed you to eat, he had said nothing about the cloak. The last thing you wanted to do was make him angry, especially after he had shown how easily he could manhandle you earlier.

“You’re going to travel with me from now on.” He spoke, his back still towards you, yet it still carried loudly through the air, leaving no room for you to mistake his words. “If you have any objections, your fate will be the same as the rest of your village.”

You have no idea why he’s saying this, not when he could just direct you without any information. There’s only one thing on your mind though, present from the very beginning and still burning on your tongue.

“Where’s my brother.” You ask once again, praying to the maker you’ll get an answer this time. “What about him?”

His shoulders tense for a moment. The first emotion he’s shown besides anger.

“He will be allowed to come along given that he trains as a Mandalorian warrior. This is the best option for him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. While being forced to train with the ones who captured him wasn’t an ideal situation, you could only be thankful that he wasn’t fated for something more unfortunate. The only thing that worried you was his size. He was never much of a fighter, too kind to want to cause others pain. You would need to be there for him.

“I...I can still see him.”

“Yes.”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if you should ask another question. He already seemed to be wearing thin with his patience, but you had to know. You would never get a moment's rest until you knew.

“Why am I here.”

He doesn’t answer right away, throwing a few more logs onto the fire before turning to face you. His face was nothing but shadows, eyes standing out in startling contrast. His footsteps were slow and heavy as he made his way over to your form, unable to back away any further as you already find yourself in a corner. He grabs the cloak as he passes, the article almost ridiculously small in his hands.

As soon as he’s close enough, he lifts his arms and you flinch, expecting him to strike you out of annoyance and anger. It never comes though. The only feeling was that of heavy fabric settling on your shoulders, only there a moment before it’s clasped and you feel yourself being pulled forward. 

Savage’s hands are wound tightly into the fabric, forcing your face to nearly touch his. This close you can see every detail of the markings splashed across his skin, the black only making his amber eyes burn even brighter, nearly suffocating with the intensity with which they stare. Almost like molten gold themselves.

His breath fans across your skin, lips nearly brushing yours as his forehead grazes your own, making you whimper as his horns roughly scrap the skin.

“You’re mine now. You will never leave my side, there at my every beck and call no matter what I may need. If you even think about trying to leave or betray me,” he pushed further, forcing you to lean back onto the bed. His weight pushed down enough to keep you in place without being crushing, one hand releasing the fabric of the collar to travel up your face. It brushes the hair away, catching the tear you hadn’t even realized had escaped.

“I’ll force you to watch as I kill your brother in the most painful way imaginable.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans forward, baritone voice speaking lowly in your ear as his lips tickle the skin.

“You’ll wish, beg, that I had killed you as well instead of what will happen to you after.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #savage opress x reader #savage opress #x reader #tcw #fanfiction #darth maul #tcw x reader #star wars the clone wars

[aboveallarescuer]

Parallels between Aerys II Targaryen and Cersei Lannister (and why they are both foils to Dany)

In this post, I gathered all the parallels I could find between Cersei and Aerys II after recently rereading Cersei’s chapters and Aerys’s section in TWOIAF. While a lot of people have made good points criticizing how Cersei was written (namely, as incompetent, misogynistic and irredeemable, at least in the canon timeline where her fate is already sealed) considering her special place in the narrative (namely, as arguably the female character who most frequently and openly questions and challenges the validity of Westerosi patriarchy, as well as the only major female villain of the story and the only woman among the three Lannister siblings), it’s also true that GRRM intended her to be paralleled with Aerys II in many ways, which will be laid out here.

Recognizing how Aerys II and Cersei are alike is particularly important for emphasizing that both characters were written as foils to Daenerys, so I will also explain how Dany doesn’t share their similarities.

Both believe they are destined for greatness

Aerys II:

Aerys II did not lack for ambition. Upon his coronation, he declared that it was his wish to be the greatest king in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, a conceit certain of his friends encouraged by suggesting that one day he might be remembered as Aerys the Wise or even Aerys the Great. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

The Lord of Casterly Rock deserved rainbows. He had been a great man. I shall be greater, though. A thousand years from now, when the maesters write about this time, you shall be remembered only as Queen Cersei’s sire. (AFFC Cersei II)

That’s not the case with Dany. Her titles (the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Mhysa, Azor Ahai, etc) were given to her by other people, she doesn’t think she’s special despite birthing dragons and receiving multiple prophecies and she’s incredibly hard on herself for every mistake she makes. She simply doesn’t have an exaggerated sense of her importance or abilities like Cersei and Aerys II do.

Both are cut by the Iron Throne

Aerys II:

Yet still the blades tormented him, the ones he could never escape, the blades of the Iron Throne. His arms and legs were always covered with scabs and half-healed cuts. (AFFC Jaime II)

Cersei:

The barbs and blades of the Iron Throne bit into her flesh as she crouched to hide her shame. Blood ran red down her legs, as steel teeth gnawed at her buttocks. When she tried to stand, her foot slipped through a gap in the twisted metal. The more she struggled the more the throne engulfed her, tearing chunks of flesh from her breasts and belly, slicing at her arms and legs until they were slick and red, glistening. (AFFC Cersei I)

While Cersei was only cut in a dream, this moment is still significant because the Iron Throne is infamous for only harming and ‘rejecting’ the bad rulers. GRRM could have written a similar dream for Dany if he wanted to make her and Cersei follow the same direction, specially in AFFC/ADWD where he noted multiple times that they’re meant to be paralleled and contrasted. Instead, while Cersei’s first chapter in AFFC begins with her dreaming of being on the Iron Throne and being cut by it, Dany’s first chapter in ADWD begins with her dreaming of a house with a red door. Also, while Cersei wishes she could sit on the Iron Throne but is unable to because only the King and the Hand can sit on it, Dany willingly gives up on the privilege to sit on an elaborate throne and chooses an ebony bench that "did not befit a queen" in Meereen. So, not only the author emphasized that Dany doesn’t want power for its own sake (but rather to help people) and that she wants to be at the level of her people, he also didn’t take the chance to portray her as a bad ruler (because she is a good one) like he did with Cersei and Aerys II.

Both feel excitement and pleasure at the sight of wildfire

Aerys II:

Frustrated, Aerys turned to the Wisdoms of the ancient Guild of Alchemists, who knew the secret of producing the volatile jade green substance known as wildfire, said to be a close cousin to dragonflame. The pyromancers became a regular fixture at his court as the king's fascination with fire grew. By 280 AC, Aerys II had taken to burning traitors, murderers, and plotters, rather than hanging or beheading them. The king seemed to take great pleasure in these fiery executions, which were presided over by Wisdom Rossart, the grand master of the Guild of Alchemists...so much so that he granted Rossart the title of Lord and gave him a seat upon the small council. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him. A king has no secrets from his Kingsguard. Relations between Aerys and his queen had been strained during the last years of his reign. They slept apart and did their best to avoid each other during the waking hours. But whenever Aerys gave a man to the flames, Queen Rhaella would have a visitor in the night. (AFFC Jaime II)

Cersei:

Cersei thought of all the King’s Hands that she had known through the years: Owen Merryweather, Jon Connington, Qarlton Chelsted, Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark, her brother Tyrion. And her father, Lord Tywin Lannister, her father most of all. All of them are burning now, she told herself, savoring the thought. They are dead and burning, every one, with all their plots and schemes and betrayals. It is my day now. It is my castle and my kingdom. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

Cersei felt too alive for sleep. The wildfire was cleansing her, burning away all her rage and fear, filling her with resolve. “The flames are so pretty. I want to watch them for a while.” (AFFC Cersei III)

~

Jaime knew the look in his sister's eyes. He had seen it before, most recently on the night of Tommen's wedding, when she burned the Tower of the Hand. The green light of the wildfire had bathed the face of the watchers, so they looked like nothing so much as rotting corpses, a pack of gleeful ghouls, but some of the corpses were prettier than others. Even in the baleful glow, Cersei had been beautiful to look upon. She'd stood with one hand on her breast, her lips parted, her green eyes shining. She is crying, Jaime had realized, but whether it was from grief or ecstasy he could not have said.

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him. (AFFC Jaime II)

That never happens with Dany. She does describe the flames positively during the ritual to hatch the dragon eggs, but so does Jon Snow and GRRM himself. She does claim the fire as hers, but it has to do with her magical intuition as she puts two and two to birth her children and is ultimately validated. Most importantly, unlike Aerys II and Cersei, Dany a) never feels excitement while watching things burn for their own sake, b) never takes pleasure viewing or imagining her enemies burning and c) is never compared to Aerys II to highlight any disturbing behavior from her part. She is called the Mad King’s daughter by her enemies (the slavers and Mace Tyrell), but the characters around her and the ones who have nothing to gain by defaming her (Barristan, Tyrion, Illyrio, Quentyn) reiterate that she’s nothing like him. Meanwhile, two of the people who have known Cersei the longest (Jaime on the quotes above, Tyrion) compare her to Aerys II.

Both grow paranoid with time; they imagine implausible scenarios in which their perceived enemies are working (often together) against them, accept their baseless fears as truth and make hasty decisions based on them

Aerys II:

The march of the king's madness seemed to abate for a time in 274 AC, when Queen Rhaella gave birth to a son. So profound was His Grace's joy that it seemed to restore him to his old self once again...but Prince Jaehaerys died later that same year, plunging Aerys into despair. In his black rage, he decided the babe's wet nurse was to blame and had the woman beheaded. Not long after, in a change of heart, Aerys announced that Jaehaerys had been poisoned by his own mistress, the pretty young daughter of one of his household knights. The king had the girl and all her kin tortured to death. During the course of their torment, it is recorded, all confessed to the murder, though the details of their confessions were greatly at odds. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The birth of Prince Viserys only seemed to make Aerys II more fearful and obsessive, however. Though the new young princeling seemed healthy enough, the king was terrified lest he suffer the same fate as his brothers. Kingsguard knights were commanded to stand over him night and day to see that no one touched the boy without the king's leave. Even the queen herself was forbidden to be alone with the infant. When her milk dried up, Aerys insisted on having his own food taster suckle at the teats of the prince's wet nurse, to ascertain that the woman had not smeared poison on her nipples. As gifts for the young prince arrived from all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms, the king had them piled in the yard and burned, for fear that some of them might have been ensorcelled or cursed. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Captivity at Duskendale had shattered whatever sanity had remained to Aerys II Targaryen. From that day forth, the king's madness reigned unchecked, growing worse with every passing year. The Darklyns had dared lay hands upon his person, shoving him roughly, stripping him of his royal raiment, even daring to strike him. After his release, King Aerys would no longer allow himself to be touched, even by his own servants. Uncut and unwashed, his hair grew ever longer and more tangled, whilst his fingernails lengthened and thickened into grotesque yellow talons. He forbade any blade in his presence save for the swords carried by the knights of his Kingsguard, sworn to protect him. His judgments became ever harsher and crueler. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Once safely returned to King's Landing, His Grace refused to leave the Red Keep for any cause and remained a virtual prisoner in his own castle for the next four years, during which time he grew ever more wary of those around him, Tywin Lannister in particular. His suspicions extended even to his own son and heir. Prince Rhaegar, he was convinced, had conspired with Tywin Lannister to have him slain at Duskendale. They had planned to storm the town walls so that Lord Darklyn would put him to death, opening the way for Rhaegar to mount the Iron Throne and marry Lord Tywin's daughter. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

And when the triumphant Prince of Dragonstone named Lyanna Stark, daughter of the Lord of Winterfell, the queen of love and beauty, placing a garland of blue roses in her lap with the tip of his lance, the lickspittle lords gathered around the king declared that further proof of his perfidy. Why would the prince have thus given insult to his own wife, the Princess Elia Martell of Dorne (who was present), unless it was to help him gain the Iron Throne? The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia's delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar's cause, Symond Staunton suggested to the king. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring)

~

When the news reached the Red Keep, it was said that Aerys cursed the Dornish, certain that Lewyn had betrayed Rhaegar. He sent his pregnant queen, Rhaella, and his younger son and new heir, Viserys, away to Dragonstone, but Princess Elia was forced to remain in King's Landing with Rhaegar's children as a hostage against Dorne. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The End)

Cersei:

“I am counseling you. If you will not yield the regency to me, name me your castellan for Casterly Rock and make either Mathis Rowan or Randyll Tarly the Hand of the King.”

Tyrell bannermen, both of them. The suggestion left her speechless. Is he bought? she wondered. Has he taken Tyrell gold to betray House Lannister? (AFFC Cersei II)

~

“Lord Manderly hacked the head and hands off the onion knight, we have that from the Freys, and half a dozen other northern lords have rallied to Lord Bolton. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Where else can Stannis turn, but to the ironmen and the wildlings, the enemies of the north? But if he thinks that I am going to walk into his trap, he is a bigger fool than you.” (AFFC Cersei VII)

~

“No doubt. Tell me, was it our little queen who commanded you to kill Lord Gyles?”

“K-kill?” Grand Maester Pycelle’s eyes grew as big as boiled eggs. “Your Grace cannot believe ... it was his cough, by all the gods, I ... Her Grace would not ... she bore Lord Gyles no ill will, why would Queen Margaery want him ...”

“... dead? Why, to plant another rose on Tommen’s council. Are you blind or bought? Rosby stood in her way, so she put him in his grave. With your connivance.” (AFFC Cersei IX)

~

She knew Joff was too strong for her, Cersei thought, remembering the gold coin Qyburn had found. For House Tyrell to hope to rule, he had to be removed. It came back to her that Margaery and her hideous grandmother had once plotted to marry Sansa Stark to the little queen’s crippled brother Willas. Lord Tywin had forestalled that by stealing a march on them and wedding Sansa to Tyrion, but the link had been there. They are all in it together, she realized with a start. The Tyrells bribed the gaolers to free Tyrion, and whisked him down the roseroad to join his vile bride. By now the both of them are safe in Highgarden, hidden away behind a wall of roses. (AFFC Cersei VI)

Cersei’s case is complicated in that she has valid reasons to be anxious: prophecies come true in her world, the Tyrells did kill Joffrey (she’s right in that regard, at least) and the coin found in the cell could be evidence that the Tyrells were involved in Tyrion’s escape. The problem is how she deals with her suspicions. To defeat Margaery, she projected her experiences on her (every widow definitely has sexual appetites, so Margaery definitely has lovers), held on to the few dubious signs that she was cheating on the king (Margaery asking Pycelle for moon tea or having a lively court), tortured an innocent man to confirm the story she needs to incriminate Margaery and arrested several innocent people. Besides that, Cersei also: alienates Kevan by avoiding his recommendations and giving important titles to other cousins based on her hunch that he was bought by the Tyrells (quote above); avoids giving the Tyrells help when the ironmen attack the Shield Islands based on her baseless suspicion that Stannis made an alliance with the ironmen and was, therefore, behind the attack on the Shield Islands with the intention to turn Cersei’s eyes away from the Storm’s End and Dragonstone (quote above); forces Pycelle to "confirm" what she wants to believe because of her guess that he helped the Tyrells kill Gyles Rosby (quote above). And these are just some of the major examples.

Dany has moments when she is unsure of whether the people around her are reliable or not. She questions if Reznak is trustworthy or if he, Hizdahr and the Green Grace joined forces against her or if Groleo could be one of the three prophesied treasons, but she remains willing to listen to their advice and never undermines or punishes them solely based on her suspicions because, unlike her father or Cersei, she has a healthy distrust of others.

Both choose to be excessively and needlessly brutal against their enemies and the people who offend them (even when their offenses are relatively minor and/or not supported by facts)

Aerys II:

When one such reported that the captain of the Hand's personal guard, a knight named Ser Ilyn Payne, had been heard boasting it was Lord Tywin who truly ruled the Seven Kingdoms, His Grace sent the Kingsguard to arrest the man and had his tongue ripped out with red-hot pincers. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The march of the king's madness seemed to abate for a time in 274 AC, when Queen Rhaella gave birth to a son. So profound was His Grace's joy that it seemed to restore him to his old self once again...but Prince Jaehaerys died later that same year, plunging Aerys into despair. In his black rage, he decided the babe's wet nurse was to blame and had the woman beheaded. Not long after, in a change of heart, Aerys announced that Jaehaerys had been poisoned by his own mistress, the pretty young daughter of one of his household knights. The king had the girl and all her kin tortured to death. During the course of their torment, it is recorded, all confessed to the murder, though the details of their confessions were greatly at odds. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

By 280 AC, Aerys II had taken to burning traitors, murderers, and plotters, rather than hanging or beheading them. The king seemed to take great pleasure in these fiery executions, which were presided over by Wisdom Rossart, the grand master of the Guild of Alchemists...so much so that he granted Rossart the title of Lord and gave him a seat upon the small council. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

When Darklyn and his family were presented to him in chains, Aerys demanded their deaths—and not only Darklyn's immediate kin but his uncles and aunts and even distant kinsmen in Duskendale. Even his goodkin, the Hollards, were attainted and destroyed. Only Ser Symon's young nephew, Dontos Hollard, was spared—and only then because Ser Barristan begged that mercy as a boon, and the king he had saved could not refuse him. As to Lady Serala, hers was a crueler death. Aerys had the Lace Serpent's tongue and her womanly parts torn out before she was burned alive (yet her enemies say that she should have suffered more and worse for the ruin she brought down upon the town). (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

"M'lord, begging your pardon, Her Grace said those as didn't meet their numbers would have their hands crushed," the anxious smith persisted. "Smashed on their own anvils, she said."

Sweet Cersei, always striving to make the smallfolk love us. (ACOK Tyrion III)

~

"Y'Grace," he said quietly, "the boys caught a groom and two maidservants trying to sneak out a postern with three of the king's horses."

"The night's first traitors," the queen said, "but not the last, I fear. Have Ser Ilyn see to them, and put their heads on pikes outside the stables as a warning." (ACOK Sansa VI)

~

“I hope you did not wake them, Ser Boros. Let them sleep.”

“Sleep?” He looked up, jowly and confused. “Aye, Your Grace. How long shall—”

“Forever. See that they sleep forever, ser. I will not suffer guards to sleep on watch.” (AFFC Cersei I)

~

“His Grace should send the Wall a hundred men. To take the black, ostensibly, but in truth …”

“... to remove Jon Snow from the command,” Cersei finished, delighted. I knew I was right to want him on my council. “That is just what we shall do.” She laughed. If this bastard boy is truly his father's son, he will not suspect a thing. Perhaps he will even thank me, before the blade slides between his ribs. “It will need to be done carefully, to be sure. Leave the rest to me, my lords.” This was how an enemy should be dealt with: with a dagger, not a declaration. (AFFC Cersei IV)

~

“Send some of your whisperers to these shows and make note of who attends. If any of them should be men of note, I would know their names.”

“What will be done with them, if I may be so bold?”

“Any men of substance shall be fined. Half their worth should be sufficient to teach them a sharp lesson and refill our coffers, without quite ruining them. Those too poor to pay can lose an eye, for watching treason. For the puppeteers, the axe.”

“There are four. Perhaps Your Grace might allow me two of them for mine own purposes. A woman would be especially ...”

“I gave you Senelle,” the queen said sharply.

“Alas. The poor girl is quite ... exhausted.”

[...] “Yes, you may take a woman. Two, if it please you. But first I will have names. (AFFC Cersei V)

~

“I cannot have Falyse spreading tales about the city. Her grief has made her witless. Do you still need women for your ... work?”

“I do, Your Grace. The puppeteers are quite used up.”

“Take her and do with her as you will, then. But once she goes down into the black cells ... need I say more?” (AFFC Cersei VII)

Dany doesn’t act like this. She burned the masters in Astapor to protect her retinue and punished the Meereenese leaders who ordered the crucifixion of the slave children, but she also spared all the Yunkish masters and most of the Meereenese masters. Her leniency is the root of her problems in ADWD, since it allowed them to retaliate against the abolition of slavery. Additionally, Dany doesn’t punish Ghael for spitting on her, she doesn’t punish a boy for trying to attack her, she doesn't punish Xaro for threatening her to her face, she chooses not to follow her councillors' advice to punish the former slavers indiscriminately and so on. You can read more about how Dany's tendency is to avoid using violence in this meta.

Both use torture to get people to confirm what they believe or what's convenient for them

Aerys II:

The march of the king's madness seemed to abate for a time in 274 AC, when Queen Rhaella gave birth to a son. So profound was His Grace's joy that it seemed to restore him to his old self once again...but Prince Jaehaerys died later that same year, plunging Aerys into despair. In his black rage, he decided the babe's wet nurse was to blame and had the woman beheaded. Not long after, in a change of heart, Aerys announced that Jaehaerys had been poisoned by his own mistress, the pretty young daughter of one of his household knights. The king had the girl and all her kin tortured to death. During the course of their torment, it is recorded, all confessed to the murder, though the details of their confessions were greatly at odds. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“Tell us how you pleasured the little queen. [...] How many of them did you have carnal knowledge of?”

“None of them. I’m just a singer. Please.”

[...] Lord Qyburn ran a hand up the Blue Bard’s chest. “Does she take your nipples in her mouth during your love play?” He took one between his thumb and forefinger, and twisted. “Some men enjoy that. Their nipples are as sensitive as a woman’s.” The razor flashed, the singer shrieked. On his chest a wet red eye wept blood. [...]

By dawn the singer’s high blue boots were full of blood, and he had told them how Margaery would fondle herself as she watched her cousins pleasuring him with their mouths. At other times he would sing for her whilst she sated her lusts with other lovers. “Who were they?” the queen demanded, and the wretched Wat named Ser Tallad the Tall, Lambert Turnberry, Jalabhar Xho, the Redwyne twins, Osney Kettleblack, Hugh Clifton, and the Knight of Flowers.

That displeased her. She dare not besmirch the name of the hero of Dragonstone. [...] The Redwynes could not be a part of it either. [...] “All you are doing is spitting up the names of men you saw about her chambers. We want the truth! [...] Horas and Hobber had no part of this, did they?”

“No,” he admitted. “Not them.”

“As for Ser Loras, I am certain Margaery took pains to hide what she was doing from her brother.”

“She did. I remember now. Once I had to hide under the bed when Ser Loras came to see her. He must never know, she said.”

“I prefer this song to the other.” (AFFC Cersei IX)

Dany doesn't act like her father or Cersei in that regard either. She allows the use of torture (which is normalized in her world) to question people regarding the murders of former slaves, but she stops it once she realizes that the results are unreliable because, unlike her foils, she cares about punishing the actual perpetrators, not about having her beliefs confirmed at any cost.

Both are often cruel, rude and disrespectful to others

Aerys II:

At the great Anniversary Tourney of 272 AC, held to commemorate Aerys's tenth year upon the Iron Throne, Joanna Lannister brought her six-year-old twins Jaime and Cersei from Casterly Rock to present before the court. The king (very much in his cups) asked her if giving suck to them had "ruined your breasts, which were so high and proud." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Over his Hand's strenuous objections, the king doubled the port fees at King's Landing and Oldtown, and tripled them for Lannisport and the realm's other ports and harbors. When a delegation of small lords and rich merchants came before the Iron Throne to complain, however, Aerys blamed the Hand for the exactions, saying, "Lord Tywin shits gold, but of late he has been constipated and had to find some other way to fill our coffers." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Tyrion, as the babe was named, was a malformed, dwarfish babe born with stunted legs, an oversized head, and mismatched, demonic eyes (some reports also suggested he had a tail, which was lopped off at his lord father's command). Lord Tywin's Doom, the smallfolk called this ill-made creature, and Lord Tywin's Bane. Upon hearing of his birth, King Aerys infamously said, "The gods cannot abide such arrogance. They have plucked a fair flower from his hand and given him a monster in her place, to teach him some humility at last." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

Cersei stared at her, aghast. “Your lackwit sister gets herself raped by half of King’s Landing, and Tanda thinks to honor the bastard with my lord father’s name? I think not.” (AFFC Cersei II)

~

She wanted a storm to match her rage. To Jocelyn she said, “Tighter. Cinch it tighter, you simpering little fool.”

It was the wedding that enraged her, though the slow-witted Swyft girl made a safer target. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“Would Your Grace honor her white knight with a dance?”

She gave him a withering look. “And have you fumbling at me with that stump? No. I will let you fill my wine cup for me, though. If you think you can manage it without spilling.” (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“Very well. Get off those saggy knees and try to remember what it was to be a man.” Pycelle struggled to rise, but took so long about it that she had to tell Osmund Kettleblack to give him another yank. (AFFC Cersei IX)

For the vast majority of the time, Dany is kind and courteous. Her detractors tend to question that fact with two main arguments: a) she laughed at Quentyn; b) she is intolerant about Meereenese culture. Their first argument is very weak. Dany didn't laugh at Quentyn, she laughed about the reason why Quentyn is called frog and then forgot to explain why she did so in the Common Tongue. Even then, though, Quentyn is so overwhelmed by her kindness that he only remembers that "the queen had always spoken to him gently". Their second argument is also unconvincing because Dany's dislike of several aspects of Meereenese culture has to do with their ties to slavery (case in point: the fighting pits) and, even then, she makes several concessions to culturally adapt. Additionally, unlike Aerys II or Cersei, she doesn't express her critical thoughts (which are way less common and way less derogatory than Cersei's) verbally.

Both give rewards and promotions to those who blindly obey and agree with them, regardless of whether they’re experienced, competent or trustworthy

Aerys II:

He was also vain, proud, and changeable, traits that made him easy prey for flatterers and lickspittles, but these flaws were not immediately apparent to most at the time of his ascension. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

His father's court had been made up largely of older, seasoned men, many of whom had also served during the reign of King Aegon V. Aerys II dismissed them one and all, replacing them with lords of his own generation. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The king replaced him as Hand with Lord Owen Merryweather, an aged and amiable lickspittle famed for laughing loudest at every jape and witticism uttered by the king, no matter how feeble. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The Mad King could be savagely cruel, as seen most plainly when he burned those he perceived to be his enemies, but he could also be extravagant, showering men who pleased him with honors, offices, and lands. The lickspittle lords who surrounded Aerys II had gained much and more from the king's madness and eagerly seized upon any opportunity to speak ill of Prince Rhaegar and inflame the father's suspicions of the son. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

"A weak ruler needs a strong Hand, as Aerys needed Father. A strong ruler requires only a diligent servant to carry out his orders." (AFFC Jaime II)

~

The Kettleblacks would charm her, take her coin, and promise her anything she asked, and why not, when Bronn was matching every copper penny, coin for coin? Amiable rogues all three, the brothers were in truth much more skilled at deceit than they'd ever been at bloodletting. Cersei had managed to buy herself three hollow drums; they would make all the fierce booming sounds she required, but there was nothing inside. (ACOK Tyrion IX)

~

My councillors. Cersei had uprooted every rose, and all those beholden to her uncle and her brothers. In their places were men whose loyalty would be to her. She had even given them new styles, borrowed from the Free Cities; the queen would have no “masters” at court beside herself. (AFFC Cersei IV)

~

Grand Maester Pycelle had wanted an older man “more seasoned in the ways of war” to command the gold cloaks, and several of her other councillors had agreed with him. “Ser Osfryd is seasoned quite sufficiently,” she had told them, but even that did not shut them up. They yap at me like a pack of small, annoying dogs. (AFFC Cersei V)

~

"She would have done better to leave the tower and burn her Hand. Harys Swyft? If ever a man deserved his arms, it is Ser Harys. And Gyles Rosby, Seven save us, I thought he died years ago. Merryweather ... your father used to call his grandsire 'the Chuckler,' I'll have you know. Tywin claimed the only thing Merryweather was good for was chuckling at the king's witticisms. His lordship chuckled himself right into exile, as I recall. Cersei has put some bastard on the council too, and a kettle in the Kingsguard. (AFFC Jaime V)

Besides the Kettleblacks (as shown above), Cersei rewards many other people that are rarely, if ever, willing to question her - Harys Swyft, Orton Merryweather, Aurane Waters, Gyles Rosby, Meryn Trant, Qyburn (the only one who doesn't turn his back on Cersei after she falls from power), etc. The only one that disagrees with her decisions regularly is Pycelle, which is why she rebukes him quite a few times throughout AFFC. Also, while Cersei considers Aerys a weak ruler, they both believe that their Hands should be servants that know their place and follow them blindly.

Dany doesn't restrict herself to only listening to the people she agrees with. She welcomes dissent multiple times throughout the books and so, consequently, her council gives voice to multiple groups (from the Unsullied to the freedmen to the former slavers to the Dothraki).

Both alienate and undermine important allies because of disagreements that could have been mended and fears that lead both rulers to perceive these potential allies as enemies

Aerys II:

The growing rift between the king and the King's Hand was also apparent in the matter of appointments. Whereas previously His Grace had always heeded his Hand's counsel, bestowing offices, honors, and inheritances as Lord Tywin recommended, after 270 AC he began to disregard the men put forward by his lordship in favor of his own choices. Many westermen found themselves dismissed from the king's service for no better cause than the suspicion that they might be "Hand's men." In their places, King Aerys appointed his own favorites...but the king's favor had become a chancy thing, his mistrust easy to awaken. Even the Hand's own kin were not exempt from royal displeasure. When Lord Tywin wished to name his brother Ser Tygett Lannister as the Red Keep's master-at-arms, King Aerys gave the post to Ser Willem Darry instead. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Perhaps seeking to gain advantage of His Grace's high spirits, Lord Tywin chose that very night to suggest that it was past time the king's heir wed and produced an heir of his own; he proposed his own daughter, Cersei, as wife for the crown prince. Aerys II rejected this proposal brusquely, informing Lord Tywin that he was a good and valuable servant, yet a servant nonetheless. Nor did His Grace agree to appoint Lord Tywin's son Jaime as squire to Prince Rhaegar; that honor he granted instead to the sons of several of his own favorites, men known to be no friends of House Lannister or the Hand. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Lord Denys, seeing that Aerys's erratic behavior had begun to strain his relations with Lord Tywin, refused to pay the taxes expected of him and instead invited the king to come to Duskendale and hear his petition. It seems most unlikely that King Aerys would ever have considered accepting this invitation...until Lord Tywin advised him to refuse in the strongest possible terms, whereupon the king decided to accept, informing Grand Maester Pycelle and the small council that he meant to settle this matter himself and bring the defiant Darklyn to heel. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

Garth the Gross on the small council and his two bastards in the gold cloaks ... do the Tyrells think I will just serve the realm up to them on a gilded platter? The arrogance of it took her breath away.

“Garth has served me well as Lord Seneschal, as he served my father before me,” Tyrell was going on. “Littlefinger had a nose for gold, I grant you, but Garth—”

“My lord,” Cersei broke in, “I fear there has been some misunderstanding. I have asked Lord Gyles Rosby to serve as our new master of coin, and he has done me the honor of accepting.”

Mace gaped at her. “Rosby? That ... cougher? But ... the matter was agreed, Your Grace. Garth is on his way to Oldtown.”

“Best send a raven to Lord Hightower and ask him to make certain your uncle does not take ship. We would hate for Garth to brave an autumn sea for nought.” She smiled pleasantly.

A flush crept up Tyrell’s thick neck. “This ... your lord father assured me ...” (AFFC Cersei II)

~

Cersei had named her cousin Damion Lannister her castellan for the Rock, and another cousin, Ser Daven Lannister, the Warden of the West. Insolence has its price, Uncle. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“I have been remiss. With a realm to rule, a war to fight, and a father to mourn, somehow I overlooked the crucial matter of naming a new master-at-arms. I shall rectify that error at once.”

Ser Loras pushed back a brown curl that had fallen across his forehead. “Your Grace will not find any man half so skilled with sword and lance as I.”

Humble, aren’t we? “Tommen is your king, not your squire. You are to fight for him and die for him, if need be. No more.”

She left him on the drawbridge that spanned the dry moat with its bed of iron spikes and entered Maegor’s Holdfast alone. Where am I to find a master-at-arms? she wondered as she climbed to her apartments. [...]

Aron Santagar was Dornish, Cersei recalled. I could send to Dorne. Centuries of blood and war lay between Sunspear and Highgarden. Yes, a Dornishman might suit my needs admirably. There must be some good swords in Dorne. (AFFC Cersei V)

~

He had even had the temerity to object to her sending to Dorne for a master-at-arms, on the grounds that it might offend the Tyrells. “Why do you think I’m doing it?” she had asked him scornfully. (AFFC Cersei VI)

~

“Your Grace, let me take Dragonstone.”

[...] No one had given Cersei such a lovely gift since Sansa Stark had run to her to divulge Lord Eddard’s plans. She was pleased to see that Margaery had gone pale. “Your courage takes my breath away, Ser Loras. [...] Swear to me that you shall not return until Dragonstone is Tommen’s.”

“I shall, Your Grace.” He rose.

[...] Pycelle had to struggle to keep up. “If it please Your Grace,” he puffed, “young men are overbold, and think only of the glory of battle and never of its dangers. Ser Loras ... this plan of his is fraught with peril. To storm the very walls of Dragonstone ...”

“... is very brave. [...] I have no doubt that our Knight of Flowers will be the first man to gain the battlements.” And perhaps the first to fall. (AFFC Cersei VII)

Dany doesn't do this; instead, she makes plenty of concessions to appease her influential allies, from wearing the tokar to marrying Hizdahr by Ghiscari rites if he gives her ninety days of peace to allowing Hizdahr to reopen the fighting pits to accepting a deal between Meereen and Yunkai that allows the latter to reinstall slavery. All of these decisions are ultimately mistakes since they unwittingly prioritize the privileges of the former masters over the rights of the former slaves, but they still show that Dany is capable of making alliances in a way that Aerys II and Cersei aren't due to their black and white thinking.

Both are extravagant rulers who plan grand schemes that are never realized

Aerys II:

His Grace was full of grand schemes as well. Not long after his coronation, he announced his intent to conquer the Stepstones and make them a part of his realm for all time. In 264 AC, a visit to King's Landing by Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell awakened his interest in the North, and he hatched a plan to build a new Wall a hundred leagues north of the existing one and claim all the lands between. In 265 AC, offended by "the stink of King's Landing," he spoke of building a "white city" entirely of marble on the south bank of the Blackwater Rush. In 267 AC, after a dispute with the Iron Bank of Braavos regarding certain monies borrowed by his father, he announced that he would build the largest war fleet in the history of the world "to bring the Titan to his knees." In 270 AC, during a visit to Sunspear, he told the Princess of Dorne that he would "make the Dornish deserts bloom" by digging a great underground canal beneath the mountains to bring water down from the rainwood.

None of these grandiose plans ever came to fruition; most, indeed, were forgotten within a moon's turn, for Aerys II seemed to grow bored with his royal enthusiasms as quickly as he did his royal paramours. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“Would that we could do the same to the rest of this foul castle,” said Cersei. “After the war I mean to build a new palace beyond the river.” She had dreamed of it the night before last, a magnificent white castle surrounded by woods and gardens, long leagues from the stinks and noise of King’s Landing. “This city is a cesspit. For half a groat I would move the court to Lannisport and rule the realm from Casterly Rock.” (AFFC Cersei III)

~

A group of merchants appeared before her to beg the throne to intercede for them with the Iron Bank of Braavos. The Braavosi were demanding repayment of their outstanding debts, it seemed, and refusing all new loans. We need our own bank, Cersei decided, the Golden Bank of Lannisport. (AFFC Cersei VIII)

That's not the case with Dany either. Throughout her reign, she only makes reasonable and attainable decisions to improve Meereen's economy, such as planting grapes, beans and wheat, replanting olive trees, making an alliance with the Lhazareen and freeing the slaves of the hinterlands to bring crops to the city.

Both are unpopular with the common people

Aerys II: (note that Tywin himself is unpopular with the smallfolk)

They cheered Father twice as loudly as they cheered the king, the queen recalled, but only half as loudly as they cheered Prince Rhaegar. (AFFC Cersei V)

Cersei:

As she made her way through the ragged throng, past their cookfires, wagons, and crude shelters, the queen found herself remembering another crowd that had once gathered on this plaza. The day she wed Robert Baratheon, thousands had turned out to cheer for them. [...]

No one was smiling now. The looks the sparrows gave her were dull, sullen, hostile. They made way but reluctantly. (AFFC Cersei VI)

~

Thrice that day she heard the sound of distant shouting drifting up from the plaza, but it was Margaery’s name that the mob was calling, not hers. (AFFC Cersei X)

We have yet to see how the common people in Westeros will view Dany, but she is very popular among freedmen and slaves from all over Essos, so she doesn't fit this either.

Both feel threatened by the shadow of Tywin Lannister

Aerys II:

By this time, King Aerys had become aware of the widespread belief that he himself was but a hollow figurehead and Tywin Lannister the true master of the Seven Kingdoms. These sentiments greatly angered the king, and His Grace became determined to disprove them and to humble his "overmighty servant" and "put him back into his place." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“Lord Tywin was a great man, an extraordinary man,” he declared ponderously after he had kissed both her cheeks. “We shall never see his like again, I fear.”

You are looking at his like, fool, Cersei thought. It is his daughter standing here before you. (AFFC Cersei II)

~

She was tired of Jaime balking her. No one had ever balked her lord father. When Tywin Lannister spoke, men obeyed. When Cersei spoke, they felt free to counsel her, to contradict her, even refuse her. (AFFC Cersei V)

This is not a perfect parallel because Cersei alternates between hero-worshiping and drawing inspiration and strength from Tywin to resenting the control he had over her, so much so that she lists her father alongside her enemies and takes pleasure in the fact that he's now dead. Even so, both Aerys II and Cersei feel that they were owed the treatment that people gave Tywin.

This doesn't happen with Dany because she doesn't feel threatened by anyone nor does Tywin play an important role in her story.

Both feel threatened by a younger, more beautiful, more popular would-be king/queen

Aerys II:

The cheers of the crowd were said to be deafening, but King Aerys did not join them. Far from being proud and pleased by his heir's skill at arms, His Grace saw it as a threat. Lords Chelsted and Staunton inflamed his suspicions further, declaring that Prince Rhaegar had entered the lists to curry favor with the commons and remind the assembled lords that he was a puissant warrior, a true heir to Aegon the Conqueror. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring)

~

The lickspittle lords who surrounded Aerys II had gained much and more from the king's madness and eagerly seized upon any opportunity to speak ill of Prince Rhaegar and inflame the father's suspicions of the son. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring)

~

Meanwhile, King Aerys was becoming ever more estranged from his own son and heir. Early in the year 279 AC, Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, was formally betrothed to Princess Elia Martell, the delicate young sister of Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne. They were wed the following year, in a lavish ceremony at the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing, but Aerys II did not attend. He told the small council that he feared an attempt upon his life if he left the confines of the Red Keep, even with his Kingsguard to protect him. Nor would he allow his younger son, Viserys, to attend his brother's wedding. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The memory was still bitter. Old Lord Whent had announced the tourney shortly after a visit from his brother, Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. With Varys whispering in his ear, King Aerys became convinced that his son was conspiring to depose him, that Whent's tourney was but a ploy to give Rhaegar a pretext for meeting with as many great lords as could be brought together. Aerys had not set foot outside the Red Keep since Duskendale, yet suddenly he announced that he would accompany Prince Rhaegar to Harrenhal, and everything had gone awry from there. (ADWD The Kingbreaker)

Cersei:

Her mood was not improved when Mace Tyrell arose to lead the toasts. He raised a golden goblet high, smiling at his pretty little daughter, and in a booming voice said, “To the king and queen!” The other sheep all baaaaaaed along with him. “The king and queen!” they cried, smashing their cups together. “The king and queen!” She had no choice but to drink along with them, all the time wishing that the guests had but a single face, so she could throw her wine into their eyes and remind them that she was the true queen. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“Your Grace, she ... she is the queen ...”

“I am the queen. (AFFC Cersei IX)

~

It was a pity that Maggy the Frog was dead. Piss on your prophecy, old woman. The little queen may be younger than I, but she has never been more beautiful, and soon she will be dead. (AFFC Cersei IX)

Cersei's case is more justified in that she believes that, by defeating the YMBQ, she'll also prevent her children from dying and the valonqar from killing her.

This doesn't happen with Dany.

Both lost a child (children, in Aerys’s case) and fear for the safety of their remaining child (children, in Cersei’s case) to the point that these concerns become intertwined with their fears that someone is out to get them

Aerys II:

The birth of Prince Viserys only seemed to make Aerys II more fearful and obsessive, however. Though the new young princeling seemed healthy enough, the king was terrified lest he suffer the same fate as his brothers. Kingsguard knights were commanded to stand over him night and day to see that no one touched the boy without the king's leave. Even the queen herself was forbidden to be alone with the infant. When her milk dried up, Aerys insisted on having his own food taster suckle at the teats of the prince's wet nurse, to ascertain that the woman had not smeared poison on her nipples. As gifts for the young prince arrived from all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms, the king had them piled in the yard and burned, for fear that some of them might have been ensorcelled or cursed. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

I am dreaming still, Cersei thought. I have not woken, nor has my nightmare ended. Tyrion will creep out from under the bed soon and begin to laugh at me.

[...] A dream, that’s all it was, a dream. I drank too much last night, these fears are only humors born of wine. I will be the one laughing, come dusk. My children will be safe, Tommen’s throne will be secure, and my twisted little valonqar will be short a head and rotting. (AFFC Cersei I)

~

Cersei had a sudden vision of the dwarf crawling out from behind a tapestry in Tommen’s bedchamber with blade in hand. Tommen is well guarded, she told herself. But Lord Tywin had been well guarded too. (AFFC Cersei I)

~

The younger queen whose coming she’d foretold was finished, and if that prophecy could fail, so could the rest. No golden shrouds, no valonqar, I am free of your croaking malice at last. (AFFC Cersei X)

Like in the previous parallel, Cersei's bad reactions are more justified due to the fact that prophecies come true in her world and due to her understandable sense of self-preservation.

This doesn't happen with Dany.

Both had unhappy marriages and believed that their spouses weren’t the right ones for them

Aerys II:

What Tywin Lannister made of this is not recorded, but in 266 AC, at Casterly Rock, Lady Joanna gave birth to a pair of twins, a girl and a boy, "healthy and beautiful, with hair like beaten gold." This birth only exacerbated the tension between Aerys II Targaryen and his Hand. "I appear to have married the wrong woman," His Grace was reported to have said, when informed of the happy event. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“...Your father will find another man for you, a better man than Rhaegar.”

Her aunt had lied, though, and her father had failed her, just as Jaime was failing her now. Father found no better man. Instead he gave me Robert, and Maggy’s curse bloomed like some poisonous flower. If she had only married Rhaegar as the gods intended, he would never have looked twice at the wolf girl. Rhaegar would be our king today and I would be his queen, the mother of his sons.

She had never forgiven Robert for killing him. (AFFC Cersei V)

The major difference in this parallel, of course, is that Aerys raped his wife and Cersei was raped by her husband.

This doesn't happen with Dany.

Comparisons in the text between Aerys II and Cersei

"Let all of King's Landing see the flames. It will be a lesson to our enemies."

"Now you sound like Aerys."

Her nostrils flared. "Guard your tongue, ser." (AFFC Cersei III)

~

Jaime knew the look in his sister's eyes. He had seen it before, most recently on the night of Tommen's wedding, when she burned the Tower of the Hand. The green light of the wildfire had bathed the face of the watchers, so they looked like nothing so much as rotting corpses, a pack of gleeful ghouls, but some of the corpses were prettier than others. Even in the baleful glow, Cersei had been beautiful to look upon. She'd stood with one hand on her breast, her lips parted, her green eyes shining. She is crying, Jaime had realized, but whether it was from grief or ecstasy he could not have said.

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him. (AFFC Jaime II)

~

"Westeros is torn and bleeding, and I do not doubt that even now my sweet sister is binding up the wounds … with salt. Cersei is as gentle as King Maegor, as selfless as Aegon the Unworthy, as wise as Mad Aerys. She never forgets a slight, real or imagined. She takes caution for cowardice and dissent for defiance. And she is greedy. Greedy for power, for honor, for love. Tommen's rule is bolstered by all of the alliances that my lord father built so carefully, but soon enough she will destroy them, every one.” (ADWD Tyrion VI)

Again, as I said above, the comparisons between Cersei and Aerys II come from two of the people who have known Cersei the longest (Jaime, Tyrion).

Meanwhile, Dany is only called the Mad King’s daughter by her enemies (the slavers and Mace Tyrell). The characters who actually know her and the characters who have nothing to gain by defaming her (Barristan, Tyrion, Illyrio, Quentyn) reiterate that she’s nothing like him.

#aerys ii targaryen #cersei lannister #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta

[mooniefics]

— a life in your shape

pairing : jean kirschtein / reader

word count : 2.5k

tags : unrequited love, pining, near death experience, confession of love, hurt no comfort lol

warnings : canon-typical violence, descriptions of injury to the reader

summary : you've always wanted it, always pictured it, always ached for it. you loved when jean looked you way. all you'd ever wanted was a life with him, not just a life in his shape.

— originally posted 1 / 22 / 21 on ao3 —

the mess hall was buzzing with life, rowdy with the chatter of dozens of cadets seated at long tables and speaking through swallows of their food. glasses were lifted and set down, bowls and plates clinking, utensils scraping sharply over various surfaces, nearly so loud that you could barely hear yourself think. but it all seemed to come to an abrupt silence when you settled your eyes back on him, taking in his formerly pale complexion now bronzy and sun-kissed from your hours of training, the annoyed yet playful glances he shot to connie and sasha as he worked through his soup and bread, full lips forming words that you couldn’t quite focus.

you were almost embarrassed of how smitten you were with jean, but in your mind, you couldn't understand how anyone wouldn't be taken with him. his thin frame had filled out with lean muscle in the year and a half that you'd been training together in the 104th corp, somehow managing to grow even taller than he already was on that first day, still so spirited with his persistence to be among the best of this class, a lively spark that never seemed to dampen gleaming behind his eyes.

"oh god, this again, jean?" you heard connie bemoan exaggeratedly, pulling you from the trance that you were surprised the other three at the table hadn't taken notice of.

jean was almost pouting now, and you would've found it so endearing had it not been the next words to spill from his mouth, indignant and full of tenacity. "don't be an ass, i've been trying to figure out a good excuse to sit with her for days now."

you followed his gaze despite knowing exactly who you'd find his eyes locked on, and forced yourself not to frown when you were met with the sight of mikasa just a few tables away.

"she's out of your league, man. not to mention having a thing for jaeger already, and not to mention that jaeger wouldn't hesitate to hand your ass to you again if you pissed him off like you always do. cut it out."

"connie, that's mean!" sasha feigned offense on jean's behalf, most likely for the sake of goading the reply that came as a distraction to snatch the remainder of bread from his plate.

"i'm just being honest with him here. he's asking for advice, so i gave him some. jean always talks about being realist and yet he— hey is that my food?!"

you turned away just as connie was lunging himself across the table, hearing the sounds of his fruitless efforts to tear the loaf from the girl's mouth, propping yourself up on your elbows and allowing your head to fall into your hands with a heavy sigh.

"what do you think?" in an instant, jean's eyes were on you, amber irises looking so intently at you that you could already feel a bothersome heat flushing your face. but registering his question sobered you, and stealing a glance at the beautiful dark-haired girl seated somewhere to your left was all in took to snuff out the light flutter in your chest.

"i don't know, jean. i think connie's kind of right about the whole eren thing." you were honest with him on a surface level, but it still didn't feel good to see him frown when you told him something he obviously didn't want to hear. you tried to remedy it by offering something more introspective—something a bit more true to your heart. "what i mean is that.. i think you're selling yourself short. mikasa obviously has her sights set elsewhere at the moment, and i just think you deserve someone who can bring the same sort of.." you struggled with your words for a moment, how could you not when he was leaning forward like that, listening so intently to you and you alone. "the same sort of passion. someone who can reciprocate." someone like me. but you bit those foolish words back.

"you understand, don't you?" he implored, looking past the bickering mess that sasha and connie had devolved to and gazing with such longing in the other girl's direction, "i mean.. i've never seen anyone like her, no one as beautiful.." each word gouged at your heart, a cold, empty sensation that left your chest feeling painfully hollow. "i know you're a girl, but you can see it too, right?"

you could see it, you were painfully aware of how you could never match up to her unfamiliar yet alluring features, that graceful, slender frame that could somehow soar through the air with ease and still thrown you down onto your back so hard it would knock the wind out of you, introversion that gave off such a charming air of mystery to her admirers.

"yeah," you mumbled back, ignoring how a huffing connie fell heavily back into his seat beside jean, defeated, sasha happily gulping down her unfairly earned chunk of bread, only taking notice of how jean was too fixated on mikasa to pay your dismay any mind, "i see it alright."

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the air was thick with an unrelenting heat, stinking of steam and coppery with fresh blood, your vision fading in and out. your head was ringing with a deafening, high pitched peal and such an unbearable, crippling pain. you could feel your boots dragging across the hot dry dirt as something tugged you back by the collar of your shirt, and the terror of a titan with its misshaped limbs and mouth hauling you to your demise made you thrash aimlessly, screams for help spilling out as a disjointed groan of pain. and though it almost sounded as if you were underwater, sinking further and further beneath the lapping waves of your impending unconscious, you heard it, muffled, desperate, thick with tears, your name spilling from his lips.

and suddenly you remembered, you remembered the kidnapping and the unfaithful comrades and the mission to save humanity's last hope, your former friend now an almost unrecognizable abomination with ymir, bertholdt, and eren sitting atop his shoulders, clasped in his monstrous hands, that had now resorted to flinging titans in his primal desperation for escape. and as you blinked away the spots blacking out your vision, head lolling uselessly to the side, you could see your horse, half crushed in a puddle of red on the yellow grass, and realized that the warmth streaming down the side of your face is your own blood.

"jean..?" you mumbled, uselessly, barely coherent, but the near sob of relief from behind you is like an anchor back to reality.

you could see his calves on either side of you, feet kicking up clouds of dust as he pushed you both back, further from the fray and carnage, as far as he could muster. one of your blade scabbards was missing, you could feel that the clip on your gas tank had snapped off in your spectacular fall caused by the titan that was flung down in your path, irreparable damage most likely made to the fine mechanisms within the housing of your gear. you felt utterly hopeless, watching as the shade of a tree just barely shielded you from the blazing light of the sinking sun, hearing jean's gasping pants from behind you, feeling how rapidly his chest was rising and falling against the back of your head as you slumped into his body, leaden limbs weighing you down uselessly.

"jean." you wheezed, trying desperately to crane your heavy head back to meet his eyes one last time, eyes that no longer harbored the naive passion of youth but still gleamed so radiantly, "leave me.. here. you're g'nna— gonna die.. if you stay..."

you could feel his violent trembles now, feel him rip his green cloak from his shoulder to press against the throbbing wound on your head. "no. i-i'm staying. i n-n-need," he was scared, you knew he was terrified of allowing what happened to marco to happen to you, or sasha, or connie, or anybody, even if the boy's death was nowhere near his fault, "i need to s-save you."

but you could also feel something else—feel it coming—the terrible, earth trembling footfalls of a titan making a shambling, uncoordinated advance to you and the scent of your blood. and suddenly jean was screaming, a sound so raw and petrified that you couldn't help but cry yourself at the sound of it. he laid you down on the ground, bunched cloak pillowing your bleeding skull, unable to push himself to his feet but still drawing his last blade to swing at the thing coming to kill you both, covering your battered body with his own.

and in that moment, you hated yourself. though your head was swimming and your lucidity was waning, you knew that you would both die there, under the baking sun and in the jaws of a titan, and it would be your fault. every regret that you'd ever harbored flooded your mind: not hugging your mother long enough when you still had the chance, not drinking that liquor when squad leader hange had offered it to you, and, most of all, never having the bravery to be honest with jean.

and you mourned all that lost time in those final moments, every late night you'd spent as trainees under the stars when you and your friends would sneak out of the dormitories to talk at some ungodly hour, every shared meal where you didn't speak nearly enough to him, every second of the crushing embraces you'd offered each other when the thought of your fallen friends caught up to you and proved to be far too much to handle on your own. how could you have done so much yet so little with your life?

and just as the titan was stumbling upon you, jean's scream of terror dampening out into a faithless cry, the thing was gone, galloping away to join a newly assembled horde descending upon one single point on the plain. but somehow, you felt no relief, not as you reached out a weak, trembled hand to grasp the blood and dirt streaked fabric of his shirt.

and as he turned to you, eyes still wide and body shaking with horror, thrumming with the adrenaline of near-death, you whispered, hoarse and tired as your grasp on the world slipped away. "i love you, jean. i love you."

your eyes fell shut, the involuntary spiral down further and further into the deep waters of unconsciousness pulling you in deeper and deeper by the second. you were grateful that you at least got to say something meaningful as your last words.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

there was a bright light, delicate, billowing fabric flouncing about in your bleary gaze as your eyes barely opened, something wrapped tight around your head, not making the pressure of the pounding headache any better. you couldn't fight the groan that even the small movement of turning onto your back caused, but you tried to force your lids open just an inch more at the sound of a gasp coming from somewhere in the room.

there were fast footsteps, a few shouts of "sasha, no!" and then a crushing weight on your chest, squeezing around you, pulling you up in bed as a tearful sob of your name came from a comfortingly familiar voice.

"sasha. please. h-hurts." you barely managed to croak out, feeling yourself been torn free—or rather, her  torn away—as connie yelled.

"get off them, you moron, they're fucking injured!!"

"i'm s-s-sorry!" she wailed, allowing herself to be dragged to the door by the disgruntled boy, "i'm j-just so happy you're s-s-still alive!!!"

"and i am too, but that doesn't mean i'm gonna go throw myself on top of them while they're in the hospital!"

their bickering was almost comforting in a way, allowing the strain in your chest from sasha's hug to ease as you watched them elbow each other in the sides on their way out of the room to take their loudness out into the hall, blowing raspberries and struggling to not laugh through their feigned anger. and finally your gaze was allowed to wander over to the furthest wall from your bed, and you saw jean, staring down at his shoes, brow furrowed and lip bitten. and he seemed almost startled to find yourself in his gaze, feet slowly taking him to your side.

"i owe you my life, you know?" you said as he settled himself on the edge of the mattress, still not meeting your gaze.

"you don't owe me anything. you shouldn't feel in debt to me."

"but i do," you risked to settle your hand over his, finally drawing his worried, amber eyes onto yours, and you could feel your heart beginning to pick up, the butterflies that you had always forced to settle with a pessimistic thought to squash your optimism light in your chest, "i meant what i said before i passed out in the field. i always have."

and for just a moment, you thought that this was finally it, that you would no longer have to languish over wasted time and wasted words, fingers just barely curling around his warm palm. then, a knock at the door, light and delicate before the handle turned, pushing open to reveal mikasa.

and you caught every small movement of jean's features, the way his eyes sparked with a familiar light, the sudden, faint flush of color across his slender face, lips parting and just barely perking up at the ends. an endless, unwavering adoration.

"eren is awake, if you'd like to talk to him." that was all she had peeked in to say, but jean was still gazing at the door for a moment too long after she'd left.

"u-um.. if you don't mind—"

"go ahead." you told him, gently, pulling your hand away, retreating as far as your body could into the mattress, under the covers, turning your gaze away.

and though he'd slowly, almost nervously exited your room, you could hear the clear pick-up in his pace as soon as he'd shut the door behind him and exited into the hall, probably rushing to try and catch mikasa for a moment alone in the hallway before he had to share her attention with everyone else.

and it hurt, like a blade buried between your ribs, being jerked and twisted with every memory of his affinity, the one that was never directed at you despite how you craved it. and you'd realized that you had melded a life in his shape, a life where you were always just a few steps too far behind, hand outstretched, reaching for him as you hurried to grasp at any minuscule opportunity to be with him, speak to him, hear his laugh and see his near blinding smiles that never seemed to last long enough to you.

but, perhaps one day, someday farther into the future. and if not then, maybe in another life.

#jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein angst #jean kirstein angst #snk x reader #snk x you #aot x reader #aot x you #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

[sgtbradfords]

Hello! I’ve had this idea floating in my head since reading recent spoilers but sadly I don’t have the time to write it :(

A prompt I have is it’s after Wesley and Angela’s wedding, Tim’s gone back to his hotel room for the night then he hears a knock on the door. It’s Lucy on the other side. She’s holding a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka and asks to be let in. ( ao that it’s a parallel to fallout and the first time they drank)

Then, there could be a conversations maybe a flashback to the reception when Tim gives a speech for Angela about love and connection and he was looking at Lucy when he was saying it. And it was that moment that allowed Lucy to really see Tim.

Which brings her to why she’s there.

I was also piecing this together while thinking about the IG live or interview ( can’t remember) and Titus asked Eric who would make the first move.

Anyways I love your writing and I hope this can spark inspiration. And the rookie finally comes back this Sunday which is awesome.

Not quite what you requested, but after such a long wait, it’s finally completed! Enjoy :)

Lucy Chen sighed as she walked up the pavestone path that was illuminated by the midnight moon. The past seventy-two hours had been grueling, leaving Lucy running on fumes. Though, the ache in her bones and the dragging of her feet never stopped her from stopping at her neighborhood ABC store or from driving ten minutes past her apartment and to his front door.

She knocked thrice, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited for the door to open. A familiar bark could be heard coming from inside the four walls, Lucy smiling as she heard the animal being chastised.

“Hey.” Tim greeted as he pulled it back. “I thought you were heading home?”

Lucy shook her head, holding up the brown bag in her hand. “I know it’s late, but I don’t think I could sleep right now, even if I tried.”

“I know what you mean.” He told her, running a scuffed hand down his tired face. “Want to come in?”

“If that’s ok?” She asked with a grimace.

Tim took a step back, furthering opening the door as Kojo let out an excited bark at who was walking in. “There’s my favorite boy.” Lucy grinned as she crouched down in front of the dog, whispering lovingly towards the pet.

“Your boy is mad at me right now. I haven’t been able to take him on a walk the past few days, so we’ve been out in the backyard playing fetch to get his energy out.”

Hearing one of his favorite words, Kojo took off in a run through the house, navigating his body under and around furniture as he flew out the back door.

“It’s after midnight, and you two are playing catch.”

“And it seems as though he is not done yet.” Tim sighed as he trailed through the kitchen, stopping at a cupboard to grab two glasses out before walking out into the night. The stained deck was cast in a soft glow, courtesy of the light on the wall as they made their way back outside, and towards the patio table. A large citronella candle was lit and placed on top of the patio table, casting a yellow hue around the open space.

“Were they able to get Angela transferred to another room?” Lucy asked as she turned around a patio chair, placing the brown bag onto the table as she pulled out the contents.

Tim grabbed the bottle of single malt whiskey as she handed it over, breaking the plastic seal of the bottle as he poured himself a generous shot.

“Yeah, she wanted to leave but her doctor insisted on keeping her overnight to monitor the baby and give her some fluids.” He told her as he sat back down in the chair he had earlier vacated.

Lucy twisted the top off the clear bottle of tequila, Tim pushing the second glass across the table towards her. “That’s good, I know it’s not easy. Her recovery, it’s not going to be easy.” She said with a ragged sigh as she poured herself a shot in to the glass.

“She has a good support system.” He said throwing the tennis ball across the yard for Kojo as Lucy downed the shot, pouring another one as she sat down.

“Yeah well, sometimes you need more than that.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, watching as Kojo chased down the green ball. “I’m not saying I didn’t appreciate the support, I did. But when no one else has gone through what you endured, and are offering advice, sometimes you really just want to tell them to fuck off.”

Tim brought his glass to his lips, knocking the amber liquid back as it burned down his throat, Lucy pouring herself another shot as she let out a long sigh.

“And you don’t need to apologize because it’s not your fault. I just- you get so tired of the pitying looks and gossip behind your back.”

He refilled his glass with a smaller amount. “Angela’s going to need someone to talk to.”

“She has Wesley, you know who I had Tim? No one.” She confessed as she tossed the shot of the liquid back, sitting the glass down on to the table as she brought her left foot up, resting the heel of her foot on the chair as Kojo trotted to her side, dropping the tennis ball in her lap. “I’m sorry, that was a little blunt.”

“You had Jackson and Nolan. And what about Rachel, she was still here, you could have talked to her.”

Lucy vehemently shook her head as she grabbed the slobber covered ball, throwing it into the night. “That’s not what I’m talking about, those are all friendships. I’m talking about what you said earlier in the hospital, after Angela and Wesley exchanged vows, during your groom speech.”

“What are you talking about Chen?” He asked with a furrowed brow as she let out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m talking about connection, passion, compassion, someone who I could confide in. I wish I had someone that would have been there for me as more than a friend. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate Jackson and owe him for everything he has done for me, but he’s just that Tim, my friend. But then on the other hand, I wouldn’t wish that on a partner for anything, the nightmares, the panic attacks, the therapy, the anxiety.” Kojo dropped the ball on to the wooden deck, laying down next to the ball with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry for throwing this all at you, I tend to forget that Jose makes me word vomit.”

“Lucy.” He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “You know you can always talk to me.”

Lucy rested an arm against the leg that was propped at chest level, fidgeting in her chair. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t, because I- you’re more than a friend to me. You’re-you’re Tim.”

“What’s that supposed to mean Luce?” Tim asked in a hushed whisper.

“It means that you’re Tim. You didn’t treat me any different after everything that happened, but you treated me as an equal. You didn’t walk with me around the edges, you pushed me right over them. You have always been my number one supporter, even when I fell flat on my face.”

“My parents have not once, showed me their support since the words ‘I want to be a cop.’ came out of my mouth. But I tell you ‘I want to go undercover.’ And you push me and support my decision, even if you have a bad history with it. And that’s all I could ever ask for.”

The suppressed sounds of the midnight hour infiltrated the bubble that had been created as the weight of Lucy’s words hung above them, the sound of the bass vibrating in a car a block over, the crickets chirping from the flowerbed in front of the porch, Kojo letting out a heaving sigh as he drifted further off into dreamland.

Tim stood, his eyes raking over Lucy as he extended out a hand. “I believe I asked for you to save me a dance.”

Lucy huffed as she shook her head in disbelief. “And you want to cash in on it now? There’s no music.”

“Trust me?” He asked with a rare soft smile.

Lucy took hold of the outreached hand as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t know…” She confessed in thought, biting her bottom lip before letting it go. “I’m not the most graceful of dancers, what if I step on your toes?”

“A couple of bruised toes won’t be the end of the world.” Tim told her as he pulled her body close. He cast her a questioning glance as she nodded, his right hand going to the small of her back as her left hand found purchase on his shoulder, their joined hands brought out to the side ever so slightly as they began to silently sway on the wooden deck.

A hum of a tune began to fill the silence as they moved, Lucy’s gaze finding his as they held each other’s stare.

“Thank you Lucy.” He whispered before continuing to quietly hum the song that was playing in his head.

Even in the dead if night, Tim could see the blush on her skin as her eyes gave him a curious look. “For what?”

“For being Lucy.” He subtly smiled, a grin that Lucy had only witnessed once or twice.

Words became fewer and far in-between as they danced under the stars, Lucy resting her head against his chest as they swayed. Things were far from ok, especially with La Fiedra in the wind, but for the moment, none of that mattered, for the moment they could just be Tim and Lucy.

#fanfic #chenford fic #chenford fanfic #chenford #tim bradford x lucy chen

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Honor him. Younger Mercenary Oberyn Martell x f!reader fanfic. #Writer Wednesday 05/26/2021

Summary: You receive the worst news, Oberyn Martell died, your first lover and the first adventure you lived.

Once when you were younger you ran away from your house escaping an unhappy engagement and the promise of a dull life. But your family hired an elite force of mercenaries to find you not knowing that their leader is a Prince of Dorne.

Word count: 6,5k (ups sorry)

Warning: Blood, violence, Oberyn’s death is mentioned as canon in the book and show, Ophidiophobia(fear of snakes), unhappy arranged marriage, alcohol. +18 SMUT (it means no minors, pls) virgen f!reader, oral sex (f¡ receiving descriptive, male receiving mentioned) p in v sex (unprotected cos there’s no durex in Essos BUT USE PROTECTION IN REAL LIFE PEOPLE) grieving.

A/N: I'M SORRY I'M LATE this is for #Writer Wednesday, the challenge created by @autumnleaves1991-blog

I read the books a long time ago, yep, I’m one of those people that said “I’ll finish them when George publish them all” so I got ASOIAF wiki and run with it, so buckle up for some bad geography from Essos and inaccurate cultural stuff. I think this is the longest thing I’ve written and the smuttiest, so sorry if it’s cringy.

Honor him

“Apparently he won the combat but the wounds were too severe and he died”

You raise your eyes from the book. One of the young servants whispers to another collecting the dead leaves on the ground.

“What is it?”

They rise from the ground nervously expecting that you will scold them for gossiping

“We heard the news from the world. A bard was chanting them on the market, my lady” she approaches the fountain; you’re seated on the ceramic tile, feet inside the water, refreshing from the blazing sun in this part of Essos.

“And what did he say?”

“He said there was a trial in Kingslanding. For the death of king Joffrey, and it was his cousin...”

“His uncle, the imp” clarifies the other and the other girl rolls her eyes

“Yes, his uncle was on trial for his murder. And Prince Oberyn from Dorne was his champion”

“The imp asked for a trial by combat, you see, my lady” adds the other

“He battled the Mountain; he crushed the prince’s skull apparently”

“But! but! His blade had poison on it so the Mountain died too” says the other girl excitedly

“Oberyn died?” you mutter, your hands are limp and you don’t realize that you have drop your book until you hear the “blop” sound in the water and it splashed your tunic

Your mind travels to years past in an instant: A journey through the vast empty lands of this continent and how you loved for the first time.

The pages of your book are getting more and more transparent while the black trickles of ink disappear in the water. You wish to scream, to rip your clothes and your hair out of your scalp but you do nothing.

“Are you alright, my lady?” the girls look at each other when you don’t move or try to retrieve your book from the water.

You always thought the greatest pain he gave you was leaving you at your father’s door many years ago, but now he’s gone forever. You always thought, while looking from your window at night, that you will see him one day, coming back on his dark horse ready to steal you away again, but now that he’s dead that small hope, that tiny flame that you kept in your heart is gone.

Your childish hopes and dreams of reviving your first love are shattered. It’s true that your life has changed, you’re a grown woman now, wiser and experience but you still fantasize over him, seeing his face and his hands on your lovers.

“We should call physician” you heard them whisper, but so far away

“Where is he anyway?”

“At his clinic, you silly girl, run”

“You do not need to call him” you mutter “I’m fine. Excuse me”

Not caring for splashing water all over the house, you run to your chambers and collapse into your bed. Buried in the soft pillows, you cried, muffling your howls with them so nobody could hear. Late in the night the moon and stars shine bright casting bluish shadows in your room.

Your body is tired but restless and in the night shade a timid ray of white light illuminates that small scar in your forearm in the shape of a half-moon. And you kiss it, at least you will always have something of his carved in your skin.

Many years ago. Essos.

“You’re cheating, boy” the big man slams the table, the wooden pieces and the coins that all the players have laid at the center fall down. He points at you spitting from a mouth full of crooked black teeth “Show me your arms, boy, I know you’re lying”

“I’m just lucky, sir” you raise your blouse’s sleeves and your arms up innocently and somehow it makes him angrier

He insults you in whatever language he speaks and slams the table up, the players run and the loud tavern suddenly gets quite, waiting for the next movement. You’re an ant in front of that enormous giant, when he stands tall and walks menacingly towards you, you freeze, he doesn’t listen to you when you apologize, it doesn’t matter anyway, you just did to gain time and look for an exit but the room is too crowded.

“Here, boy, I’ve also many tricks under my sleeve” he has a dirty bag hanging from his belt and takes it and throws it at you. It lands at your feet and for a second you smirk not knowing what a bag could do to you, but then it moves and in a blur you see a green and yellow thing twisting until you feel it pressing and slithering over your body. The snake, a beautiful, shiny creature with vibrant colors faces you hissing and shows its fangs. Everything happens to fast. Out of instinct you protect your face with your arms and the animal understands this as a threat and it bites. The pain rings like a bell all over your body every nerve in your body aflame.

In a second, cold blood wets your face and you gasp when you see the snake’s head slide to the side separated from its body with a clean cut.

“I’m sorry for the demise of your little friend” A tall lean man stands beside the giant. You can’t see his face, since he’s covered with black turban and his body is in full armor. One of his arms still holds a curved sword that has snake blood on it; the other has a dagger pointed to your enemy’s neck.

“That viper was worth more than you or your little friend and you will pay for it”

“I doubt it. You know my little friend here” and he points his sword to you “it’s worth a lot and if I don’t tend to her wound rapidly she will die and that’s a shame. So, decide now, do you want to be a setback or do you want to keep living your stinky life longer?”

By brute force, the giant decides his fate and tries to disarm the man who in a swift movement cuts his throat and his blood and destiny joints that of his pet.

“You’ve been quite difficult to find, child” he opens the fabric covering his face. His eyes are dark, dark beard covers his defined jaw line and an amused smirk graces his handsome face. “Let me see that arm” he lowers his weapons, shamelessly cleaning his dagger on the back of the dead tall man and walks to you until your back is pressed against one of the tavern columns. Sheathing his sword, his hand takes yours and raises your arm, evaluating the wound and he hums deeply “Oh, sweet child”

“Am I going to die?” you cry

“Probably”

“If it’s my father who commands you to find me, I beg you to let me die; I do not wish to go back. Death is better than that dreadful place” you shake your head determined but terrified at the same time. He looks at you with his brow troubled

“Death is never better than anything” and he drags your arm to his face. His dark gaze fix on you while he sucks on the wound so hard that for a moment you think he’s drinking your life away. But then he lets you go and spits to the ground “Let’s hope that’s enough. You will come with me so I can give you the antidote”

“I told you, I have no desire to return to my home”

“It’s a pity, then, that I don’t care about that” he grins.

He gave you so many small jars to drink. Some tasted sweet some bitter and some other made you want to vomit and not drink or eat ever again. But you’re alive. A few hours passed, and then a day, then two, and you’re irrevocably getting back home.

You’ve learnt that your father, in an attempt to find you, has commissioned this elite group of mercenaries to retrieve you; and he’s the leader. It’s a small company but that doesn’t make them any less dangerous. All of them seemed to have many different skills, weapons hidden at every corner of their body, they speak languages you don’t know and you ride your horse tied to it watching each one of them with a suspicious look. After two days riding with them you have decided that there’s no way you could escape now. There’s always one of them standing guard and just a small glare your way gets every thought of escaping out of your head. So, even if it’s dramatic, you decided that your best option is to die. A few days in the desert without water and food and your father will receive a corpse.

“Drink, little girl, you’re withering like a flower” the leader, the man that saved you, says handing you the waterskin

“No, thank you” you turn your head, seated under the shadow of a very thin and dry bush. The orange and violet light announces the immanent sunset where you have stopped for the day.

“You’ve been refusing water all day. You have to drink” he says and pushes the waterskin to your face once more.

“No, thank you” you repeat and he sighs. Thinking you’ve won as he throws the waterskin by his side, you smile subtly until he’s close, crouched down, knees over the sand, looking at you.

“Maybe being a spoiled little flower works for your father, but not to me. Drink or I will make you” He takes your chin and raises it to meet his eyes

“I’m not thirsty” you say, your lips are already dry and they hurt, your tongue is thick inside your mouth and your body screams for just one drop.

“Don’t challenge me, child” he lowers his voice and you gulp

“I’m not a child” you protest, he keeps calling you that and honestly you don’t think he’s much older that you

“Then why do you behave like one? Drink, for the last time” His mouth is a fine line now and his grip on your chin is a little bit firmer

When you don’t answer he opens the waterskin and tucking on your lower lip he pours a small trickle of water in your mouth. The liquid taste sweet, your body works on it own and you open your mouth to drink more with desperation.

“So you weren’t thirsty...stubborn girl” he smirks and you want to slap his smug and beautiful face

He stops pouring water and laughs when you rise up drinking the last drops before he puts the cap on it.

“Look at you, not a withering flower anymore” the mercenary brushes his knuckles over you cheek and you feel them burn “What else do you want?” his thumb caress your chin gathering the small drops of water on your skin and spreads it over your lower lip.

You feel your bones burning, a tension in your lower belly that you haven’t feel many times and that makes you ask for something you don’t even know, so you just answer a timid yes and let him guide you to the fire and the rest of the company.

One of the mercenary is skinning some rabbits, methodically pulling the skin off with blood hands and a deathly gaze fix on you “So she decided to join us” she says

“Oberyn can be really persuasive” another, a big bald man with a beard tinted in blue, adds

So his name is Oberyn, where have you heard that name before?

“Remember that her father is paying for the whole of her, untouched he said” a lean blonde woman, with her face full of black and blue tattoos, is lounged over the bags sharpening her knives

“Well, I hope he doesn’t see her arm, that viper left her with a beautiful scar” Oberyn sits down and helps the mercenary skinning the animals and impales them and puts them to roast on the fire

“I’m not talking about that kind of viper...” she says and the company laughs

“I’m right here” they stop laughing looking at you as if you have done something they deem impossible

“So she speaks” the bearded man says

“She does but it may take some convincing” Oberyn smiles at you over the flames that illuminate his striking and sharp features “If you wish to eat, sweet flower, why don’t tell us how did you escape? We love a good story while we camp”

“Your father was convinced some ragged boy had stole you from your palace” adds the blonde woman

You smile, feeling some kind of pride for your plan, that, looking at it from perspective, did not grant you what you wanted but at least you had a good run. You tell them about how you disguised as a ragged boy lurking a few nights prior your escape so that the servants suspected about somebody being guilty of your disappearing. And how you ran away the night of your betrothal and made it look as if somebody had kidnapped you.

“I ran out of money in Lys so I had to beg, or steal, or gamble for a few coins. And then you found me” you finish your tale, sucking on your fingers, the meat is the best you ever tasted but yet again it must be the hunger from this days refusing to eat or drink.

“I’m almost tempted to let you go, young one, you seem a very resourceful girl” the beard man that you now know as Uhlan smiles at you proudly

“Think about the money” the blonde woman, Rikan, chew on a bone and toss it to the fire

“I’m always thinking about it, why do you think I’m a sellsword?” he jests

“Because you were a street rat with a broad back as broad as your stupidity and it’s the only thing you can do” Rikan spits and Uhlan laughs, a deep and low chuckle that resonates as a thunder.

“She’s a little princess, she couldn’t have survived much longer” the other woman, Shifa adds, the rest of the company has changed the way they look at you, but her. She still squints at you

“There’re princes that have survived worse” Uhlan counters and suddenly there’s a heavy and uncomfortable silence over them. You look at all of them trying to understand and you see Oberyn looking at his feet until he claps his hands together “Let’s get some sleep, we have a long way ahead”

It’s surprising what food, water and company can achieve. You’re smiling more, you almost forget that you will be delivered to your father and future husband within days, Uhlan tells you about his many adventures, how he almost die in Yiti, how he rode once with a Khalassar and that he had seen the great shadow in the East. Rikan has gifted you a knife “a girl needs to defend herself” she said and proceed to show you how to kill a man in many different ways “If you want to kill your husband though, you must ask Oberyn, he’s the one that knows about poisons and how to kill somebody without raising suspicions”

“How does he know that?” you ask, leaning to the right so you get close to her horse, Oberyn rides beside Shifa before you; both of them speaking in a language you don’t understand

“He has studied many things; he’s been all over the world. He was almost a Maester once, but preferred to travel, fight and fuck the world before he gets back to his duties”

“Duties?”

“He’s a prince” she whispers a mischievous smile on her lips “he doesn’t want to talk about it, because it makes people treat him differently or underestimate him. So don’t tell him it was me, blame the big rat”

“Did somebody call me?” Uhlan screams at the back

“You do have a sharp ear when you want, my friend”

You arrive to Myr at dusk. The city is still vibrating, the merchants offering everything you could imagine and the streets smell like thousands spices. And you absorb it all with wide eyes and open mouth.

“It’s a beautiful world, my sweet flower, and you wanted to end your life” Oberyn raises his voice over the people chatting and selling stuff

“If only it could always be like this” you answer, your smile dies in your mouth remembering this is a passing thing. The adventure will be over soon.

“Life gives us many opportunities to dwell in its pleasures; you have only to acquire a keen eye to recognize the perfect moment to seize it”

“Are you implying that I will have another chance to escape?” you scoff

“Maybe...if that is what you want or maybe to enjoy your life as a married woman, who knows”

You sigh deeply trying to ignore the thoughts about your future husband, that drunken bastard, boring and dull that your father chose.

“Or you could run away and avoid your responsibilities; you can create your own destiny, my sweet flower”

“And that’s what you are doing? Avoiding your duties?” you stop in your tracks and he watches you for a moment, chewing on his lower lip

“Maybe” he answers finally

“I’m tired of being treated as if I was overreacting being a spoiled child while you are here doing exactly what I did, ran away, from the duties of a noble life. I’m not overreacting; all I want is to decide if I want to live my life bearing children for my fool husband and maybe die giving birth or out of boredom and disappointment or try my luck in the wild world. Isn’t that what you are doing? Travel, fight and fuck the world? What’s the difference between me and you?” The people surround you, the company has already enter the tavern in front of you knowing they shouldn’t meddle

“Travel, fight and fuck the world seem a pretty good title for a book. Maybe when I’m old I will write my adventures under that title” he laughs

“I’m glad I amuse you” you spat with your arms crossed

“I apologize if I made you feel that I was underestimating you. Do not confuse my laughter with mockery, I know how you feel and I understand.” He comes close to you, each hand on your arms, pressing them lightly “Believe me, I wouldn’t have accepted this job if your father didn’t pay so well. I have to get back home and I want to leave my company with enough resources so they can continue on their own” he explains, he bends his neck so you are so close you can smell his scent, leather, horse and the dessert. “But that doesn’t mean we cannot enjoy ourselves while it lasts” Oberyn smiles and passes his arm over your shoulders “Have you tasted the wine from Myr?” you shake your head “It’s the sweetest”

The wine is starting to play with your mind, your smile falls languidly over the corner of your lips and you don’t know why you’re laughing but whatever song Uhlan is singing is the funniest thing you’ve heard. Rikan laughs by your side, her laugh is actually sweet and high making her look less menacing. Shifa is the only one that doesn’t look amused at all and he drinks from her goblet eyeing the tavern, especially you, with hatred.

“C’mon, Shifa, we know you can smile” Uhlan grabs her in a bear hug but she squeezes herself out of it

“Let me alone, you brute”

“You haven’t talked much since we retrieve the little girl over here, tell us what’s going on in that little twisted mind of yours?” the man jokes and the other mercenary glares at him

“I’m going to my chamber” She drinks the rest of her drink and strides to the rooms, pushing the drunken people in her way

“Leave her, Uhlan! She’s just jealous that her prince is not directing his attentions only to her lately” Rikan says winking at you

Oberyn has been absent having a conversation in another table until he comes back with a serious expression

“I’m partially offended that you think our company it’s not worth your time” Uhlan says sliding to give him enough space to seat by his side

“Huh, so I guess Shifa is not the only one jealous” Rikan drinks looking at him over her goblet

“Shut up!”

“Where is she?” Oberyn asks

“She went to her chamber” Uhlan serves him wine “So what was about those ugly bastards that got your attention; I thought you had a very refined taste”

“Those are Westerosi men; I wanted to get news of the world. Some of us still appreciate the pursuit of knowledge, my friend” Oberyn taps on his big shoulder

“I appreciate the pursuit of a good fuck better, my friend. Let’s see if those Westerosi want to share some news with me, Rikan are you coming? I’m always lucky with you around”

“I don’t like Westerosi” she snarls

“I don’t care, I just need you to be there so they take a good look at your ugly face and they get convinced that fucking with me is the good option of the two of us” he jokes with one of those thunder like chuckles

Rikan laughs and she follows him, waddling towards the men’s table.

“I should go to my room” you say, rising too fast and the whole room twists and turns

“You liked the wine, I see” he observes you grab the wooden table for your dear life until you find your balance

“Too sweet, I haven’t noticed it until it was too late”

“Let me guide you then”

Oberyn grabs you by your waist and helps you climb the stairs to the second floor. People gather around the aisle, laughter and moans fill the air and the heat of Oberyn skin over yours and the boldness giving by the alcohol make you pressed your body against his a little tighter than its necessary.

“This is you” he says opening the door for you

“Is it true what you said about creating our own destiny?” you collapse on his firm chest, your hands brushing over his neck

“Yes, sweet flower”

“Sweet flower” you mimic his accent “Say it one more time” your glossy lips, sticky with wine, leave a kiss on the tan uncover skin of his chest. His laugh makes you raise your head

“You need to sleep, child”

“No, no!” you slap his hand away when he tries to push you inside the room “Don’t call me that, I’m not a child. I’m a woman” you try to fix your posture to seem taller but you body stumbles to one side almost falling down

“What you are is a very inebriated girl. Good night, my sweet flower” he says closing the door

“Are you going to Shifa’s room?” the words escape your lips before you can think and he lingers on the door with an eyebrow raised

“Why do you ask that?”

“I don’t want you to go to her” again the words are out before you process them

“And what do you want me to do?” Oberyn closes the door behind him. And you breathe deeply a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Stay with me” you mutter

“Believe me I would, but you don’t know what you are asking. It is the wine speaking”

“No it’s not” you pout again falling into his arms, hearing how you sound like a spoiled little girl, you cough “It’s not” you repeat

“Right, let me take you to bed then”

You gasp looking at him with wide eyes. Oberyn hugs your body and walks towards the simple bed at the corner until you both fall down on the soft mattress

“Oberyn” you whisper “I have to tell you something before we...”

“Tell me, sweet flower” He lays beside you, posing his head over his fist

“I’m...I’ve never...” you stutter

“No need to worry” with his free hand he starts to brush his index finger from your brow to the tip of your nose so slowly and softly that you feel your eyes closing down

“Are you trying to make me sleep as if I was a puppy?” you slur

“Shh” he continues until the room goes dark and you cannot open your eyes for much that you try

“Sweet dreams, sweet flower” you hear before you blank out.

The sun pierces your eyes as if its rays were daggers. The company laughs at your expense, but yet again, Shifa hisses and insults you in some language but it’s evident that she said something nasty because Oberyn glares at her.

“No more Myr wine for you, little girl” Uhlan laughs helping you get on your horse

“Never” you murmur

The pain in the back of your head and the unstoppable thirst you have makes you moody, and it doesn’t help that you know you’re one day away from your home. But everything is worse with the hard sting of jealousy. It’s not that Oberyn does much, but he rides along side her, speaking in that stupid language you don’t understand, and she makes him laugh, he watches with attention whatever she points at during the way. He looks at her, talks to her. All you want is to rush your stupid horse and take her place.

It gets worse when Shifa sees you observing them; knowing damn well what you feel, she becomes softer, leaving touches on his skin, whispers things on his ear. And you can see the intimacy, the camaraderie that they share and that you will never have. And she’s a woman not a little girl, fierce, independent, and strong; and you cannot stop comparing yourself to her.

You arrive to a small town in between the domains of the two free cities, just hours away from the gates of Pentos.

“We will spent the night here, we need to be presentable for tomorrow”

The town has a small and humble bath house. The simple exterior made of red brick doesn’t show the beauty it has in its interior. The garden inside is made of brick and ceramic creating beautiful arches that frame the pool in the middle; green vines crept over the walls and the tender murmur of water is the only sound you can hear.

“We have rooms to accommodate you for the night once you’re done with your baths” the lady, owner of the house, announces and snaps her fingers towards the servants so they get everything ready.

“Thank you” Oberyn says bowing his head “Wash away the dust of our journey, my friends. Specially you, Uhlan” he jokes, slapping the big man’s belly

“You’re as stinky as me, my prince, but the Gods didn’t give me a beautiful face”

The company strips shamelessly, you think that they’re so comfortable around each other that they don’t think twice before submerge their naked bodies in the fresh water.

You stay by the side, taking off your shoes and rolling your sleeves so you can wash your feet and face. You avert your eyes when you see that Oberyn’s armor is on the floor. Your eyes fixed on the water and the blue tiles at the bottom, but you cannot stop from raising your eyes just a little.

His magnificent, strong, and tight body, his beautiful golden skin is marked in scars in some parts, you see the muscles on his legs tensing and relaxing as he gets in the pool. Your eyes travel through the room to avoid seeing him in his full grace.

“C’mon child, you don’t want to be stinky when you meet your father” Rikan splash water at you

“I-I”

“Let her be, she’s scare of my big cock” Uhlan laughs

“That thing that you can barely get up? C’mon, child, it is harmless” The blonde mercenary swims towards you and grabs your hand to pull you in

“Rikan, leave her, let’s finish and we will leave her some privacy” Oberyn says under the small waterfall brushing his skin with a small piece of soap

“Your husband’s eyes will be the only ones that will see you naked” Shifa says and she swims towards Oberyn. Her body is toned and muscular. She joints him under the water stream and when she tries to touch him, he moves away.

You don’t want to smile, but you do, until you remember that he refused you the other night and tonight is the last night you’ll spend with them. Shifa will have him for whatever time she wants.

Eventually they leave the pool, putting on some fresh clothes and rubbing some scent oils on their skins and they look different, less mercenary and more like elite warriors with a thousand adventures to tell. You will miss them; they are the only friends you have ever had.

“Thank you” you say stopping their banter over who’s going to take which room, they look at you confused “Thank you for rescuing me” you say with a trembling voice

“It’s nothing, child” Uhlan says and you see his big eyes shine

“We will give you some privacy” Rikan nods

When they are away you take off those stinky clothes you’ve been wearing since you escape. You moan feeling the water soften your muscle and you enjoy the strong cascade of water hitting your back until your bones feel like liquid inside your skin.

“I never expected you to thank us for getting you to your father” his voice gets you out of the trance, and you don’t open your eyes when you hear the soft sound of clothes hitting the ground and the splash of water when he gets inside the pool again.

“I didn’t thank you for that, but for rescuing me” you answer still your eyes closed under the waterfall “And saving my life” you pass your hand over the now healed wound, a moon shape scar where he suck the venom out of you.

Oberyn fingers grab your wrist, raising your arm towards his lips and planting kisses alongside your veins until he arrives to the thicker skin of the scar, sucking again on it.

“Do you still believe that it was better to let you die from the snake’s bite than to be back home?” he whispers against your skin, his beard tickling you over your pulse

“I still can run away” you open one eye. Oberyn looks amused at you

“Will you?” he asks saving the distance between you

“I don’t know. Will you come get me if I do?” You approach him, intertwining your hands on his neck

“The world is big and beautiful; it will be a shame that a sweet flower like you rots in a place like this all her life” he turns his head and leaves a kiss on each of your arms

“So that’s a no” you laugh but the pain in your heart is real

“I have to leave Essos soon, I guess the time for adventures is up” he exhales deeply

“Just the last one then” you’re surprised of your boldness when you rise on your tiptoes to kiss his lips

It is soft at first. Just tasting him, tempting him to show you more, and he does. Oberyn opens his mouth and sucks on your lower lip and when your mouth is open he savors you with his tongue. He holds your face on his large palms guiding you softly until the kiss deepens and your hands leave his neck roaming through his back and he reciprocates. His hand caresses every inch from your neck to your arms. You moan in protest when he breaks the kiss but then his kisses move to your neck nibbling your skin. He pampers every part of you with his attention, soft kisses and bites over the top of you breast.You cry out laughing when he grabs you and rise by the waist so he can access your tits. You circle his waist with your legs and you hold yourself on his shoulders.

Any good sense in you, any coherent thought gets lost one his mouth sucks on your nipples and you kiss his head trying to control your panting. The sounds that come out of you seem so far away, his low grunts and moans over your breast melt you and you feel the heat gathering between your legs.

“My sweet flower, you have the sweetest tits” he moans and he lowers you so he can kiss you one more time. You run your fingers over his dark hair, his impossibly close to you but you need more. You need him like those drops of water he poured in you the first time. The hunger, the jealousy and desire you felt these past days have reached its peak and you think your heart will collapse. You repeat his name on his lips like a plea.

Oberyn carries you to the side of the pool, and you feel your cheeks burning, your body in goose flesh feeling exposed and at his mercy now that the water is not covering you. He takes his time admiring you, his brow eyes eating every pore of your skin. Kissing your legs he parts them grabbing you by the hips he positions you just at the edge of the pool. He palms your breasts one more time, gracing each nipple with a small pinch that makes you moan loudly. You get flustered, gaining a bit of your conscience back

“No need to be shy, my love, let go. I wish to hear every sweet moan, drink every drop of this sweet cunt” he plants a kiss on your navel, before lowering his face. His first lick between your lips makes you marvel of the unknown sensation. His eyes are fixed on you while he licks faster and sucks between your small lips, when you tense, every single fiber of your body burning, he changes his rhythm, lapping languidly all your sex and back again, fast and slow, and never too much. Until you’re gasping for air and pushing him away

“Please, it’s too much”

“Let me show you, trust me” his wet mouth bites you inner thigh before he starts again. This time you reach the point of no return faster. A wide abyss before you where you skin burns and you heart beat faster until you fall, crying his name. And he holds you, planting kisses all over you body, every part he can reach. The gasps lead to laughter

“What happe...how?” you ask

“I have many things to show you my sweet flower” he smiles

Oberyn lets you in his room. The warm night breeze moves the white curtains and the moonshine casts its rays so you can see him get on top of you with the warmest of smiles.

“Do you still want this, my flower?” he asks

You grab him by the neck and let your lips answer for you. Lowering your touch you push his back so he presses his body against you even tighter.

“Please, please” you beg on his ear

He reaches between your bodies and brushes the tip of his cock on your lips coating it in your arousal, before pushing gently. You gasp at the intrusion; it’s not pain what you feel but definitively a bit uncomfortable at first

“Let me in, my sweet, relax for me” Oberyn bends his neck to kiss and bite your tits. The pleasure turns your body into a withering mess until you’re full of him.

He moves lazily at first letting you grow used to his length and width while he observes your face

“Is it alright my love?”

“I need more” you murmur

“More?” He rises, pressing the weight of his body on his knees and opens you wider grabbing the soft skin on your hips “Like this?” he thrusts deep and fast with each word and you nod biting your lip. His pace is unforgiving, and you cannot think, all you can feel is him, and his sweet words and praises combined with the slaps of wet skin and the creaks of this old bed. Your fingers scratch softly on his chest trying to hold into something when you feel that abyss again, but this time you let it go and it hits you harder. Oberyn collapses over you letting your cunt squeeze him even tighter, slowly dragging himself in and out until he sense his release coming and he pushes harder once, twice until he spills his warm seed.

You kiss his brow, wet from exhaustion and the pool, in a way the cage he’s forming with his body pressed against the mattress is the freest you have ever felt.

The dawn wakes you up, many years later, a harrowing pain in your chest remembering how he kissed you a thousand times, how you slept caged in his arms for a few hours and then woke up with his face between your thighs

“Does it hurt?” he asked and you flinched, feeling the swollen and sensitive skin “I will kiss it better” he said. And you made love again, he moved you in the bed showing how to touch your body and how to touch him, how to pleasure him with your mouth as he did to you. Until the sun invaded the room and crashed your safe space between the shadows. You could no longer hide from your destiny, it was time to go.

He left you, a small and decent kiss on your hand and bid you farewell wishing you a happy life.

You remember running, not paying attention to your father’s complaints and your mother’s cries while you soon-to-be husband drank wine unbothered by the whole thing. You ran to the balcony watching his dark horse taking him out of the city.

He never looked back, and with his parting figure you promised you will live your life happy even if you have to run for it. That you will live adventures on your own until life gives you the last drop of its joy and pleasure. In a way you promised to honor him without knowing one day it will come true.

So you woke up, older, wiser, in your own house, after many adventures lived, and after a sleepless night mourning him, you grab paper and ink and write:

“Travel, fight and fuck the world: the Adventures of an Unusual Lady”

#writer wednesday #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x you #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #prince oberyn #oberyn martell fic #oberyn martell fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal fic #Pedro Pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #Pedro Pascal characters fanfiction #ASOIAF Fanfic

[0606-hyuck]

a letter to my lover | lee donghyuck

♡  dear y/n, i’m writing you this letter in the hopes that it gets to you well. our relationship has been tumultuous, that’s for sure, and i thought it was high time i wrote you a letter detailing all the times you said "i love you" that are important to me. 

genre: haechan x reader, heavy angst, supernatural!haechan, deity!haechan

warnings: suggestive content, mentions of religion, profanity

word count: 2.1K

tagging: the lovely @roses-of-the-moon ♡ @mora134340 // @nct-writers

Dear Y/N, 

The first time you said “I love you”, you were worshipping me.

The temple lay just east of the large town you resided in, about an hour's drive from the coast. People from your area traditionally followed a polytheisic religion and worshipped the gods and goddesses of life, death, earth, air, fire, water, time, the sun, and the moon. Temples dedicated to the gods and goddesses were scattered around the peninsula, although some temples saw a lot more visitors than others. This Sun temple was larger and older than typical Sun temples, and the red, yellow, and orange colour scheme from the outside flowed nicely into the high, spacious interior. There were pews dotted around the room for people to sit on, but the temple was empty given the late time of night, save for you. 

You stood in front of a ten-foot tall bronze statue of myself, or what you mortals assumed my true form looked like, crumpled on your knees and head bent in reverence. It was unusual for me to see followers at my temple so late at night, but I really couldn’t blame you if you had come to simply stare at my statue - turns out bronze really is my colour. As I realised you were muttering something softly, I remember creeping closer towards you and sitting on one of the pews close by. Not so close that you noticed my presence, but near enough that I could hear what you were saying. “I love you, but…”. You uttered my name - once, twice, three times - followed by a number of curse words strung together in an order that I had never been witness to before.

Using my powers, I lit the lamp on the wall beside us to indicate I had heard you, and you proceeded to tell me a story of how your uncle’s farm was failing due to a perpetual drought that hung over the area and wouldn’t leave. Upon hearing your admission, I was astounded. I was one of few Sun deities, who essentially reported directly to the presiding Sun God. If there was a drought that I wasn’t aware of, then I wasn’t doing my job properly, and that was an issue. 

Ever since you had visited my temple that one evening and let forth a tidal wave of insults and curses towards me, rather than admiring my bronze look-alike, I was intrigued by you. I hadn’t revealed myself to you that night - not quite yet - but there was something about you that fascinated me. Whether that was your stubbornness or your determination to fix your uncle’s farm, I don’t know, but I wanted to find out more. Showing myself to you right now was out of the question - there’s no way you would believe I was the famous Haechan, Sun deity that everyone worshipped - I had to earn your trust. So I started with the largest issue first; resolving this drought issue that was ruining your uncle’s farm. It really was a complex problem with a simple solution - a little gold flashed a friendly Water deity’s way and voila! No more drought. 

The second time you said “I love you”, we had just finished making love on a public beach.

I had solved your drought calamity, but still found myself drawn to you. So I did what I do best - using the sun to my advantage. At first, I would simply manipulate the light from the sun so that you walked in the shade on hot days. When you were cold, I made sure there was always a warm burst of energy by your side. I remember the day I finally found the courage to present myself to you. Not my true form, of course, that would be firmly against deity rules, but I found a human male who suited me perfectly. He was young, around the same age you were, and had fiery orange hair and bronze, sunkissed skin that reminded me of my statue. Fitting, really. 

The day we finally spoke it was hot, the Sun God had had a disagreement with the Life Goddess and appeared to be tormenting her creations. I was sitting on a bench, secluded under a willowy tree, and it was fairly straight forward for me to direct some of the sun’s rays directly onto your uncovered head, sending you fleeing into the shade of the tree. I made conversation with you, charming as I am, and I instantly knew you were taken with me. 

As the months progressed, we spent more and more time together. Your uncle’s farm recovered, and he was able to regrow a lot more crops in the dampened soil. We spent all our free time together - after helping out at your mother’s shop you would come visit me at my temple, and we would share the rest of the evening together. The more I got to know you, the more mortal you made me feel. We celebrated your village and religious holidays together. We went shopping at the markets together. We even developed a favourite pastime, travelling to the beach and spending the day in the cool ocean, and I was always there to warm us up as we lay on the sand, hand in hand.

I’d never entertained the idea that I may one day feel so at home with a human by my side, but this was quickly becoming the future I envisioned, and even yearned for, for myself. That day at the beach, when we were all alone, and you told me you loved me for the second time, I knew I felt the same way. There was just something about you, Y/N, that kept me drawn to you. I was almost ready to tell you what I was, a sun deity - but little did we know that would be the beginning of the end for us.

The third time you said “I love you”, I told you I didn’t love you back.

A lie, really. 

In the past, I had told you my name was Haechan, but after you laughed and said there was no way I was named after the Sun deity, you started calling my vessel Donghyuck. At first I hated it. It was strange being referred to as anything other than Haechan. Soon though, I realised how freeing it was having another name, another identity. Haechan became what the other gods, goddesses, and deities referred to me as when I was in their presence, in my true form, but Donghyuck was what you called me when I was with you. And I liked that. 

A few weeks after our latest beach date, you asked me to become your boyfriend, and I accepted. You were over the moon, but I felt strange because we were now in a serious relationship while my whole identity was a lie. 

The day I sat you down and told you who I was, who I really was, I was worried. I certainly wasn’t terrified, by any means, but I was anxious that you would simply laugh me off again and not take me seriously. I loved you so much, and I didn’t want to live a life of deceit. To your credit, you handled the news pretty well, at least at first. You said the more you thought about it, the more aspects of me made sense. The ever-hot skin. The shadows that protected us from the sun. The fact it was never truly dark when I was around. It made sense, and you accepted it. And then you started asking me the hard questions. How long would I live for? Was I immortal? Would you die before I did?

Would I give up my immortality for you? When I bluntly refused, the arguments started. Me being a deity hadn’t caused us problems before, but now you knew the truth it meant we couldn’t even have a normal conversation without the topic being brought up. Sure, I had been a Sun deity for centuries, but I couldn’t just give up this role I had been blessed with. You also weren’t willing to give in, either, saying I had virtually assimilated into human culture and should therefore be the one to change. After one particularly heated night of arguing, you said you loved me. I told you I didn’t love you back, and I still remember the way tears silently pooled in your eyes as you stared at me, begging me to say it wasn’t true. Which it wasn’t, of course it wasn’t Y/N, but the truth was at the time I didn’t think I loved you enough to give up my life.

The last time you said “I love you”, we were breaking up.

“I love you, but we can’t be together,” are the exact words you said. We were in my temple, sitting on the pew right in front of the statue where we’d first met, and we were breaking up. You were unwilling to give your life up for me, and I was unwilling to give my life up for you. I loved you so much, but it seemed like the only option. Your stubbornness and determination, which first attracted me to you, was now causing me so much heartache I thought my chest was going to rip in half. You only made things worse by the way you held me that evening, your hands in mine, and then your hands wrapping around my neck and pulling me close so you could place a soft kiss on my tear-stained cheek. That was the last time we talked to each other. 

You stayed around in your town for a few months after our break up. I know, because I was always with you. Not physically, but my presence was always there. On the hot summer days with the sun beating down on you and your friends, in the extra stretch of shade that seemed perfectly shaped to fit you, in the bursts of hot air when the nights were particularly cold, I was there. And I know you knew I was too; the sad, regretful smile that graced your face said so much more than words ever could. 

After we broke up, I heard of a phrase you mortals are particularly keen on: “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” Sure, and absence also makes the heart realise how fucking stupid it was to break yours. 

I don’t know why you left town. Maybe it was to get a job in a bigger city, or to travel the country. Or maybe it was to get away from the constant reminder of us. Either way, you left without a word, and because I am essentially bound to my temple and the surrounding area, I couldn’t follow you. I still think about you daily, Y/N. I wonder where you are, what you’re doing, whether you would give me another chance. Your uncle’s farm is doing well, by the way. I make sure I check in every couple of weeks to make sure the ground is not too dry, and the plants are getting enough sunlight. The beach we used to visit is still as beautiful as ever. It’s a little more lonely without you by my side, though. 

I miss you heaps, Y/N. That’s why I’m writing you this letter. I don’t know where you live now, so I doubt I’ll ever be able to send it to you. I never realised how monotonous my existence was until you left. I am worshipped by so many mortals, but they only come to me when they require something. And they never pray to me, at least not the real me I discovered when I was with you. You, however, came to me because you liked me - dare I say, because you loved me - and you saw me for my personality, not for what I could offer you. I constantly think about that day, the last time you said you loved me. I would do anything to go back and change the outcome, to go back and tell you that I would become mortal for you. 

It’s been a few years since then, and I don’t even know whether you would want me back. We all make mistakes, Y/N, but by far my biggest mistake was losing you. I hope that, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, you’re happy, and you think of me sometimes. 

Forever regretful,

Donghyuck.

© 0606-hyuck 2021. All Rights Reserved.

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