#i thought mace was older than that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pastelspoon31 · 4 months

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Chapter 1: What a nice neighbour! (Older!König x Younger!Reader) - NSFW

tw: age gap (early 20s reader, AT LEAST mid-40s König), manipulation, non-con, somnophilia, a little bit of pseudo-incest pretty much dead dove

A/N: Made a new account just to post this lmao

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | > Masterlist

"Liebling, I already told you that boy was no good for you." König's fingers gently caressed your hair as you sobbed into his chest.

"I know- I should have listened to you.." You sobbed into his chest, his large hand gently resting on the back of your head as he tried to console you.

"What did I tell you about boys like him?" He asked you.

You sniffled, trying to gather yourself enough to answer. "Th-they're no good.." You mumbled, and he nodded.

"That's right, mein liebchen. They only want one thing from girls like you." He told you, and you knew it was true. You knew that's all Billy wanted. But the way he had been talking to you, looking at you, touching you..

You cried for a few more minutes before finally gathering yourself, König still gently stroking your hair and soothing you with his words.

"What am I going to do?" You sniffled. "He's all I had and.. now-"

"You have me." König cut you off, pulling back so he could look into your eyes. "You've always had me, liebling. And I would never treat you like that."

You looked at the older man- Old enough to be your father, hence the way you treated him like your own.

"You're right.. You've always been here to take care of me.." You sniffled lightly and wrapped your arms around his neck.

König smiled at you and stroked your hair back again.

"Why don't we go to the living room and have a glass of wine and a movie, ja? Order in some food?" He suggested, and you nodded with a soft smile.

"I would like that."

"Good." König smiled back, gently tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

———

You were just a freshman in college when you first bumped into your neighbour, König.

"O-oh, sorry!-" You quickly apologized, having run into a wall- Or so you thought.

"It's alright, liebling." You heard a low, smooth voice come from the man you had run into, and you looked up at him.

A foreigner, you noted to yourself- and though masked, you could tell he was smiling down at you.

"S-sorry, I'm so clumsy." You chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of your head.

"You're not the clumsy one, I wasn't paying attention." He assured you.

"Oh.." You chuckled softly, "Well, sorry, anyway."

"No harm done, liebling." He replied, and you found yourself smiling softly.

"I'm Y/N." You gave an awkward smile.

"Unit 309?" He asked, and you nodded in confusion.

"How did you know..?"

"We share a wall." He chuckled and gestured to the unit number, 308, beside him.

"Ah.." You laughed, "My bad."

"König." He introduced himself and held out a hand to you, which you shook with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you."

"And you." He replied, and it was in that moment that you realized how much older he was than you.

"Well, I have to get going, I have class soon.." You gave an apologetic smile and a small wave. "See you later, König."

"Goodbye, liebling."

With that, the two of you went your separate ways.

———

From that day forward, you ran into him regularly.

Whether it was just the two of you leaving your houses at the same time, or running into each other at the mailbox, you found yourself seeing more of König. After a while, you've gotten used to having him around and he even told you what that 'liebling' meant! It's something parental figures call their younger ones as a term of affection- a fuzzy feeling filled you when you first heard him explain that.

You have come around to figure out that he was a good person to look up to- always giving you useful advice and looking after you.

He had always told you to keep your doors and windows locked, to not go out late, to keep a can of mace on you at all times.

And when your boyfriend had started cheating on you, König had been there for you.

The older man would let you cry to him and would give you comforting hugs, assuring you that you were too good for someone like him.

"You're an intelligent, beautiful girl. He's an idiot for not realizing how wonderful you are."

"You're always so nice to me, König.." You sniffled as you hugged him tightly, resting your cheek on his chest as you stood on your toes to do so.

"Because you deserve it, liebling,”

After a while, the tears stopped and you had fallen asleep, the older man taking it upon himself to carry you to his bed.

After placing you down, he took note of your knocked out state and smirked lightly.

Perhaps the crushed pills he slipped into your drinks worked a little too well.

"You won't mind if I have a little fun with you right, mein hase?" He asked, gently brushing some hair from your face as he climbed into the bed next to you.

You didn't reply as you were out cold, and König chuckled.

"You were such a tease when we first met, always showing off your perfect little body.." He mused, his gloved hands slowly caressing up your legs and pushing up your dress as he spoke.

Once you were bare in front of him, he reached into his dresser and took out his camera, beginning to snap pictures of your sleeping form.

"You are so beautiful, liebling." He praised, moving the camera up to your face.

Once satisfied, he moved it back down and spread your legs, moving his camera between them and taking a couple pictures.

"Haven't had pictures of you from this angle before.." He smiled, his hand caressing your inner thigh as he kept his camera trained between your legs.

"I hope you won't mind if I do this from now on.." He hummed and took a few more pictures before moving the camera aside, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your clit.

You shifted slightly in your unconsciousness at the sensation and let out a quiet sigh, your thighs squeezing around his head slightly as he began to eat you out.

"You're so sweet, liebling." He moaned against you, the sound making your breath hitch.

If you were a wake, you'd have felt him chuckle, his gloved hand sliding up your stomach to palm at your breasts, the sensation feeling odd and making you shift.

"Are you awake, mein liebling?" König asked as he pulled away and looked up at you, smirking when you didn't reply.

"I suppose not." He chuckled and went back to work.

König ate you out until you were coming against his mouth, and he eagerly lapped up every bit of your juices, his own cock hard and begging for release.

He sat up and unbuckled his belt, taking it off and letting it drop onto the bed before he pulled out his cock, jerking himself off.

"Look at you, so pretty and wet.. Just for me." He panted and reached for the camera again, snapping a few more pictures of your pussy, leaking juices and swollen from arousal.

He moaned and leaned in, kissing your thigh as he continued to stroke himself.

"You taste so good.." He hummed. "So sweet and juicy.."

König continued to stroke his cock and groan against your skin, your thighs squeezing around him as your hips shifted.

"Liebling.. I'm going to cum.." He moaned, "Where should I.."

He trailed off, the idea hitting him before he even finished the question.

Quickly, he grabbed his cock, pressing it right against your pussy as he stroked himself.

"So sexy, liebling.." He grunted, "Your little body is just too good, I can't hold back.."

With a loud moan, he came right against your pussy, the tip of his cock nestled right up against your clit.

"That's right, hase, take my cum." He panted and groaned.

König jerked himself through his orgasm, and when it was over, he sat back and snapped a few more pictures, smirking.

"I should have done this sooner." He chuckled. "It would have been worth getting rid of the other boy."

You shifted and whimpered quietly, the older man taking a few more pictures before gently rubbing his cum into your pussy, making sure not a single drop was left.

"Shh, shh, it's alright, Y/N." He assured you and placed the camera aside.

"Everything is alright now."

König leaned down and pressed a kiss to your pussy, licking his lips and tasting himself.

"You're perfect, liebling."

#könig #könig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #call of duty #könig smut #neighbour könig

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antianakin · 22 days

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Am I the only one who just lost any and all love for newer Star Wars material due to Jedi hate ? Like- the only merch or show or even FANDOM topic I get involved in is clone wars stuff and MAYBE TBB. Like- why would I want the watch shows who attempt to rewritte canon and portray the very heroes of Star Wars as the bad guys ?

Why would I want to watch shows that assassinate characters left and right (looking at you, Ahsoka and Sabine) ? Why would I want to buy merch of characters who I not only NOT care about, but who also are used as meta mouthpieces for stupid Jedi hate ?

I think there's TONS of good newer Star Wars material, to be honest.

I loved the Kenobi show and it is arguably one of the most pro Jedi pieces of media to have existed since the Prequels films. Aside from one itty bitty somewhat awkward word choice in one line of one episode, there is absolutely NOTHING in that show that can be used to indict the Jedi or blame them for anything and it is arguably one of the only shows to really spend time MOURNING the Jedi and recognizing the horror of what was done to them. Rebels comes closest after this, but its structure makes it a little less visceral than the Kenobi show was to me.

I really adore Visions and I recognize that this is sort-of Star Wars adjacent more than anything else, but SO LITTLE truly understands what makes Star Wars compelling as a story and really hits on those primary themes the way that Visions does. There's SO MUCH Jedi content in Visions and I remember people complaining about how much Jedi content was in Visions and other people responding that if you were given free reign to just play in the Star Wars sandbox with near zero restrictions on what you could make with it, you would probably ALSO immediately go for the psychic space wizards with laser swords. Who WOULDN'T? Visions also just genuinely has some of the most engaging and heart-wrenching stories to come out of Star Wars in a LONG while and it does it in these beautifully animated 15 minute packages. It's such a gem and I am so glad to be alive at the same time as Visions.

Rogue One is older now, but both Rogue One and Andor, despite having zero actual Jedi in them, really hinge on the themes from the Prequel trilogy about the tragedy in the Star Wars universe, stepping up when no one else will, choosing to be selfless and compassionate for the greater good, etc. Faith and hope are MASSIVE themes within these two works and even though there aren't any space wizards, good or evil, in either story, they feel like some of the most pro Jedi things Star Wars has come out with in a while based on thematic messages ALONE.

The Mandalorian's first two seasons actually have this absolutely BEAUTIFUL story about the selfless sacrifice of one man as he gives up everything in order to help this child find his way back to the culture he'd been ripped from. Everything AFTER that regarding Grogu and Din's storyline is a piece of shit (it's not explicitly anti-Jedi or anything, but it undoes a lot of the things that made their story so compelling and beautiful), but the first two seasons are genuinely GOOD and very pro Jedi in a lot of ways despite the lack of many actual Jedi characters.

The Book of Boba Fett is a terrible show for a LOT of reasons, but shockingly none of them have anything to do with its treatment of the Jedi. If it ever ends up with a season two, I desperately hope they leave Mace Windu's name the fuck out of it, but at this point it is a pretty Jedi neutral show if you're willing to deal with the rest of its bullshit.

Rebels is also somewhat older now, and it has a few lines here and there that are a tad more Jedi critical, but it is by and large VERY Jedi positive and does also follow a lot of the themes of selflessness and sacrifice that go along with being a Jedi. It also has themes of mercy and patience and facing your fears in Sabine's storyline that got entirely thrown away in her later storyline. Just thought that was worth pointing out. For reasons.

TBB is also fairly Jedi neutral, but its treatment of the clones is basically the clone version of being anti Jedi, so I'm not sure it's actually any better. It just traded hating on the Jedi to hating on the clones, and I find that just as distasteful.

I can't really speak to things like comics and novels much since I don't tend to consume them really. I've read a few of the adult novels in the High Republic Phase I and the first one was genuinely very good, but there were some relatively heavy-handed Jedi critical themes within the third book of Phase I (The Fallen Star) that put me off of it a little. I haven't continued into Phase II or III at all, so I have no idea if those themes got continued in later books. I've heard generally good things about the Padawan book, I think.

The Cal Kestis video games, Fallen Order and Survivor, also have their small Jedi critical moments, but much like Rebels, it has these massive overarching themes and messages about compassion and selflessness and sacrifice and facing your fears and mercy. They are immensely Jedi positive in a lot of ways and I really enjoyed both of them.

So out of everything I have seen (and know about) the only stuff that's truly heinously and insultingly anti-Jedi is the Ahsoka show, the Acolyte, and Tales of the Jedi. Three shows and like 30% of one book. Out of a list of like ten different shows and one film and some books and video games. It's not even really HALF of the content we've been getting recently.

A lot of people talk about the Disney era like it's ruined Star Wars, or like nothing it releases has ever been good. But it just straight up isn't true. It's a little insulting to all of the genuinely wonderful work that is being done by all of these other creators to just brush aside everything that's been coming out recently as awful and bad because some of the MOST recent things have been pretty explicitly hateful towards the Jedi. It's not fun that we had the Ahsoka show immediately followed by the Bad Batch followed by the Acolyte. I hate that, too, it feels like we're on this neverending shitshow of stories explicitly aimed at hating a group of characters for no obvious good reason. But I don't think that the last 6 months or so of bullshit should overshadow some of the really beautiful stories we HAVE gotten within the last several years.

If you feel like things are getting difficult, maybe do a "good Star Wars" marathon of sorts. Watch the Prequels, followed by the Kenobi show, then Andor, then Rebels, then Rogue One, then the Original trilogy. This one long beautiful story of people stepping up to fight against selfishness and greed and darkness no matter what.

Or go rewatch Visions or read some of your favorite fanfics and remember all the things about Star Wars that are just universally cool and compelling across the world. Hell, you can try writing something of your own! Anything! A lot of my AU concepts stemmed from spite and really helped me feel a little bit better about Star Wars when it sometimes felt like I was just surrounded by the parts of it I liked the least. Go buy yourself a cool t-shirt or some fun jewelry. Find some pretty stickers and put it on a water bottle or an enamel pin to put on a canvas tote bag or a corkboard.

Curating your fandom experience goes beyond just the internet. There's a reason I am boycotting the Acolyte and it isn't because I think Disney or its creators are going to care at all. I'm doing it for ME, because I had such a shitty time watching the Ahsoka show and it made me so miserable each week that I seriously think I will be better off just leaving it the hell alone and just absorbing whatever ends up crossing my dash from a distance. I only participate in Star Wars fandom servers that I feel safe in and only really get into discussions with personal friends who I know well. If participating in Star Wars fandom is making you sad, maybe take a step back or find a way to create your own corner of fandom that feels better. Ignore the damn Ahsoka show, pretend it never existed. Ignore the Acolyte. Ignore Tales of the Jedi. Ignore Filoni-related bullshit. Focus on the parts you DO like, or give yourself the space to remember why you liked it in the first place.

#star wars #jedi #pro jedi #obi-wan kenobi #sw owk #kenobi show #kenobi series #andor #star wars andor #rogue one #star wars rebels #rebels #anti tbb #tbb wank #anti ahsoka show #anti acolyte #visions #star wars visions

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weixuldo · 4 months

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Enigma// ch 27

anakin x reader

A/N: Heyyyy- this one is pretttty long lol (a range of emotions for your reading pleasure) Hopefully u guys enjoy!! Also I am not an ordained minister and have never been to a courthouse wedding- so just keep that in mind if I totally butchered the process lollll!! as always, thanks for reading :)

NSFW

Courthouse weddings were not on your bucket list this year, but if its with Ani- you'll be alright.

warnings: cursing, mentions of pregnancy, afab! reader, marriage?, ani is a disabled veteran, topics of death, Vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving), cumplay (kind of?), liver failure?, depictions of pain

____________________________

You lightly squeezed Anakin’s upper arm with excitement as the officiant entered the small room. He was an older man, but he wasn’t the stereotypical short, bumbling bureaucrat; instead he was rather tall, in shape, and filled out his pressed suit nicely. He seemed to have himself all together.

He eyed the two of you suspiciously (he probably thought the two of you were a joke). After all, the two of you were nowhere near as dressy as him.

You wore a simple white dress you found at a thrift store you frequented. It has a lacy trim and a beautiful silk trail; honestly it was crazy that you found this in a size that would fit your pregnant belly in such a pinch.

Anakin told you he would have bought you a new dress from a boutique if you wanted, but you respectfully declined; you really liked the appeal of a secondhand dress- nothing wrong with clothing that told a story and now you got to add some new memories to the dress.

Anakin wore the only suit he owned, a plain dark blue coat and trousers with a white button up. Though, it was definitely too big for him now since he had lost so much weight. He never bought a new one because he always hated wearing suits (too many ceremonies in his full dress for the army), plus most suits made it hard for him to maneuver his limbs due to the cut and the tightness.

Whenever you were a little girl, you never expected the wedding of your dreams would be in a courthouse- but being here with Anakin was all your heart could ask for.

The officiator walked around to the bench and set his leather briefcase down lightly, before taking a few papers out. Anakin placed a stiff hand on your forearm and gave you a small smile.

“How are you doing, beautiful?” he whispered, his words tickling your ear.

WIth a shy giggle, you responded “I can’t wait to be your wife, Ani”.

“Alright- do we have everyone who should be present in attendance?” the tall man in front of you asked.

You turned behind you to check if Ben, Satine, and Ahsoka were still back there (where else would they have gone?). Once you gave them a quick smile, you turned back to the man and nodded.

“Perfect. My name is Mace Windu, and I will be officiating this marriage- I am to inform you that I am an ordained minister by law and every document you sign here will be officially binding. If you have any objections before we proceed, speak now or forever hold your peace. Shall we begin?” the man spoke before taking a moment to scan the room.

“No objections? Very well. We will begin the ceremony.”

Mace spoke so formally and so precisely that it felt more like you were being read your rights rather than being wed- but either way, you couldn't be happier.

Sadly your city’s courthouse didn’t allow for personalized vows (you had no idea why), so the ceremony was rather short. Once Windu had gone through the formalities and such it was your turn to answer.

“Anakin Skywalker, do you take this woman to be your lawfully-wedded wife”.

Anakin turned towards you and held his gloved hands out for you to hold. A soft, yet all consuming look of adoration consumed his features as he gazed upon your beauty. You were the most radiant woman he had ever set his sights on- how were you about to be his wife?

Anakin’s “I do” came out more as a heartfelt sigh than a statement, but that made it even more special.

His smile lines were evident around on his face as his blue eyes admired you; he was a little self conscious about the “wrinkles” but you always reminded him they told so much more than age- they told the story of his life; his joy, his despair, his pain, his laughter- they made him who he was.

“And do you, f/n l/n, take this man to be your lawfully-wedded husband?” Mace asked with a small smile.

“I do” you delivered with your whole heart.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride”

Without hesitation, Anakin slipped his hand against your cheek and brought your lips to his. Never had a kiss been so dizzying- passion, lust, love, excitement, longing, and sadness all combined into one.

You reveled in the feeling of your plush lips against his.

You nearly forgot you were in public when your friends started to clap and make their way towards the front of the room. Mace set out the official document and handed you an expensive fountain pen for you to sign with.

You forgot all thoughts of his judgment once he handed you the pen with a smile, “congratulations, Mrs. Skywalker”.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach- Mrs. Skywalker…. Wow.

Anakin wrapped a loving arm around your back and pressed another kiss to your temple.

“I love you so much sweetheart, more than anything”

“You are my everything, Ani” you responded with another kiss.

___________________________________

“Are you sure you want to do this, princess?” Anakin asked shakily as you led him to your shared bedroom.

“I’m completely sure, Ani”

Ever since that first kiss as a married couple, you and Anakin had both been pining after each other the whole day; of course you had each other now, but you wanted that intimacy that was expected on a wedding night.

You didn’t ache for him purely from lust, rather it was an all consuming desire to be one with your lover, you wanted to be able to physically channel the love you so desperately felt.

“Please, Ani… I want you inside of me- I want you”

Your sweet and sensual tone made him shiver; how could he deny his beautiful little wife? Anakin bit his bottom lip hesitantly and nodded as he began to remove his slacks.

You relaxed back onto the mattress and released a sigh, “thank you my love”.

His sandy locks fell in front of his eyes as he gazed back at you, “Anything for you”.

Once he removed his pants, you helped him with his shirt; he laid on his stomach and placed his face between your plush thighs.

You were dizzy with anticipation as his bright blue eyes gazed upon your aching core- the two of you hadn’t been intimate in this way since the baby and all that time was taking a toll on you.

Obviously the two of you agreed to be gentle for the sake of the baby, but deep down all you wanted was for your newly-wed husband to fuck you untill you couldn’t speak right.

His stiff, cold hands held your in-place by your hips and he pushed his face right into you. Anakin’s skillful tongue swirled around your sensitive bud as he made his way up and down your delicate folds.

Unintentionally, you arched your back which caused your pelvic bone to bump his nose into your clit; an odd sensation that made you jolt. The strong cartilage pressed nicely against your swollen clit. Maker, was there any part of this man that you didn’t love?

“O-oh Ani” you moaned.

He started slowly but as your breathing began to quicken, so did his motions. He wasn’t really able to maneuver his mechanical digits in the way he would have liked to, so his mouth was very skilled.

He lapped up your sweet juices as he rutted his painfully hard erection into the plush mattress. He could get off by your reactions to his tongue alone. You were gorgeous.

He eyed your round stomach and for some reason that only charged his lust. You were carrying his child- his.

Anakin never really saw the appeal of children when he was younger (probably also because they were such a big factor for him and Padme), but now- now he saw the appeal. He saw all of it.

Though the child was an accident, it was born from the love and passion you and Anakin had for each other, this child would be there to love you when he’d be gone- this child you carried held his future.

His head spun with all consuming love for you- his wife.

Maker, he never thought he would get another chance at love after his accident all those years ago…

“A-Ani! I’m close” you whimpered, as your thighs trembled on either side of his face.

Your shaky voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he paused to kiss your sensitive bud before he helped you reach your anticipated release.

“Let go for me baby” he instructed softly.

And you did just that; stars flooded your vision and your brain went fuzzy. You couldn’t remember the last time you came (probably before the baby).

You allowed yourself a moment to gather yourself; Your chest heaved as you sat upright to draw him into a sloppy kiss. His sandy locks were all disheveled and his cheeks were rosy- he was perfect.

“Ani- that was… amazing” you huffed, still riding out your high.

His lips quirked upwards and he placed a hand on your cheek, “Anything for you, my love”.

He never hesitated to make you blush. You looked down to see his large bulge straining against his boxers.

“Oh, Anakin…” you cooed as you ghosted your fingers across his rock hard shaft.

He shut his eyes and quivered at your touch. You leaned forward and pulled back the elastic waistband to get a peek at his blushing member.

His velvety tip was bright red and weeping with precum; you gave it a soft kiss and collected a bead of his salty cum.

“F-fuck” he shuddered.

You began to tug his boxers off; as you did you kissed down his hip bone, v-line, and pelvis. You pulled the thin fabric over the threshold of his human and prosthetic legs until they were finally off.

His heavy dick slapped against his lower stomach; his one vein prominently pulsing on display for your pleasure. You gently dragged your fingers along the ridged scars that peppered his cock (they added a different level of sensation when they brushed against your walls).

You were about to take him into your mouth when he stopped you.

“Wait- I want to be in you” he said breathlessly.

You knew what he meant, but you felt like teasing him- “Well, technically you would be” you smirked.

He exhaled and playfully shook his head, “I didn’t know I married a comedian”.

You giggled and sat back up, “alright Ani, where do you want me?”.

The routine question was not because he liked to order you around the bedroom (well, sometimes he did), it was more of a courtesy question you habitually asked. Anakin was limited in the amount of positions he could pull off and some days certain ones were easier than others.

“Lie on your back” he said and you complied.

He grabbed a few pillows and stacked them under the small of your back so that you were more arched (a personal favorite of yours). He kneeled his prosthetics on the bed right against the backs of your thighs.

Anakin felt light headed with lust as he caressed your breasts and then down your swollen belly. His weeping cock was pulsing in anticipation as it stood proudly, eager to enter your plush pussy.

“Alright sweetheart” he breathed before slowly pushing himself into your.

You gasped as his bulbous head made its way into your cunt.

“Are you alright?” he asked quickly (and worriedly).

You nodded and asked him to continue.

Slowly, inch-by-inch, he made his way into you. You gripped the bedsheets and tossed your head back in pleasure.

Anakin was already feeling indescribably good, but when he finally bottomed out, he couldn’t suppress the guttural moan that escaped him.

“Feel good?” you asked him with a lazy smile.

He nodded vigorously “f-feels so good baby- s-so good” he babbled as he gently rutted his hips into you.

You patted his thigh to get his attention, “You can move more Ani- you won’t hurt the baby” you coached.

He clenched his jaw and nodded once more before he slowly dragged his length across your plush walls. The slow cadence of his hips made you shudder- the contrast from his fast and precise tongue to the slow but filling feeling of his cock only added to your overstimulation.

“Fuck…. you look so beautiful baby- my beautiful- ahh- m-my beautiful wife” he said.

“All yours Ani”

He groaned at your sentiment and began to quicken his pace- you felt so damn good; he was already feeling his release coming?

He watched your swollen breasts bounce as he thrusted in and out of you- he couldn’t take it anymore. Anakin shut his eyes and tossed his head back,

“I’m so- I’m so close baby” he almost cried (he too, had not cum in a while).

He snapped his hips into yours, making you yelp in pleasure, “F-fuck, ‘m sorry princess” he apologized before he moaned once more.

“I’m gonna cum! I’m- I- ‘m cumming. I’m cumming!” he stuttered as his body shook violently with the orgasm that ripped through him.

You gasped at the warm thrust of cum that shot into your already sensitive pussy. His thick ropes painted your insides as he continued to empty himself into you.

Both of you panted heavily and he began to unsheathe himself from your pussy. His dick was coated in a marvelous mixture of both of your highs… a heavenly sight.

You sat up and helped rest Anakin against the headboard before you retrieved his inhaler. You administered a few puffs before his breathing had calmed down.

“I don’t think you understand how indescribably in love I am with you” he huffed as his beautiful blue eyes looked deeply into yours.

You smiled and blushed a stray curl behind his ear, “I understand completely”.

________________________________________

You snuggled close to Anakin under the warm covers after the two of you had gotten cleaned up and took a shower.

You couldn’t believe you were actually married to the man you loved more than anyone else. Sure the two of you had got off on the wrong foot and had your rough patches, but look how far you've come.

Sleep was finally washing over you when you felt Anakin tense beside you. He was probably dreaming- he was plagued by constant nightmares from his past.

You began to brush your fingers through his hair (something you did to calm him when he would dream), but when his body jolted and he curled onto his side, you knew it wasn’t a nightmare.

“Anakin?!” you exclaimed when he started thrashing and groaning.

You sat up and reached for the light. He was clutching his right side with the arm he kept on at night- it was his liver.

His eyes were screwed shut as he braced himself against the bed. He wailed when you helped him upright, you could see his veins pulsing; every inch of him was screaming out for relief.

“Ani, I’m going to go get your pills, ok? Are you alright here?” you said hurriedly, your own heart rate was through the roof.

He just cried and shook his head, “Please- do-don’t leave me” he managed through gritted teeth.

Your eyes softened, “Ani, the pills will help, just let me get them for you- please?” you pleaded.

He stayed silent and finally nodded.

“Ok, I’ll be right back” you said before kissing him on the forehead.

You raced to the kitchen counter where his pile of pills sat, you rummaged through the bottles looking for the pain pills the doctor prescribed. Once you finally had it you dashed back to the bedroom.

Anakin had laid back down on his side and his face was scrunched in pain. You rushed to his side and pulled him up so that he was lying against your chest. His grimace was painful to look at and he drool had begun to pool on the area he had lied down on.

“Oh, Ani” you whispered as he trembled in your hold.

You helped him take his meds and comforted him as the feeling began to pass. He finally drifted off after about an hour or so of in-and-out pain.

Once you laid him back down, you walked out to the living room and sat on the couch. You debated switching on the TV to mindlessly view some stupid show to attempt to occupy your racing mind, but you ended up just staring at the black screen.

Before you knew it, salty tears were streaming down your face. Why did Anakin have to endure this? Hadn’t he gone through enough?

You thought about how happy you were all day and how much you wanted a life with him-but now this? Nothing but a bitter reminder of the limited time you actually had with your husband.

What hurt the most was there was nothing you could do...

nothing you could do, but wait.

***

a/n: so sorry this ended on such a somber note but I told ya- it was a rollercoaster in here hahah- also ik courthouse weddings take more planning, but for the sake of the story- we’re gonna pretend Anakin had been planning this and compiling the documents so that if you said yes (which you did) the two of you would be able to be wed as soon as you signed ur name on the respective dotted line :)

taglist : @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana @imarimone12 @fallinlovewithevil @sythe-skywalker

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aspenstarflare · 9 months

Text

Time for more Clone wars Head Cannon time:

-The 501st and 212th defiantly have bets against each other of the state of Anakin and Padmé’s relationship but also Obi-Wan and Cody’s. Ahsoka, Rex, Waxer, and Boil organizing these bets whenever the two legions are together (of course under the noses, of General Skywalker, General Kenobi, and Commander Cody).

-Kix sleeps literally with one eye open, due to his Jedi trying to escape the medbay every time he falls asleep. Every time he drags them back to bed he always mutters something along the line of “stupid self sacrificing jedi ideology, whoever thought the force was a free pass to self neglect will feel my wrath.”

-Speaking of Kix, the entire 501st and also the 212th by extension are terrified of him, once 10 droid invaded his medical tent and he took them all out on his own without a blaster. He also can single handily drag one of his jedi or troopers to the medbay without effort.

-Fives and Echo, the chaos twins who bring destruction wherever they go, will try to sneak into Anakin’s council meetings get into his line of sight, and try everything that is possible to make him laugh. During one meeting where they are more particularly funny Anakin just stands there in a council meeting trying to be silent and stiff as a board while he’s shaking from laughter and mace goes “Is something funny skywalker?” and fives falls on his head from doing a handstand at that moment and Anakin loses it and bursts out laughing like a maniac but refuses to explain why to the council ever. So for the rest of the history of the council, they all think Anakin finds Yoda going on mission to be kriffin hilarious.

-After tough missions the troopers of the 501st like to huddle together in a cuddle pile (although only Ahsoka calls it that), Ahsoka discovering this one night while they were all sleep in their huddle, hopped into the pile and snuggled up with them as she couldn’t fall asleep because of a nightmare that has her in a panic attack and Anakin was no where to be found. Cut to the next morning Anakin is panicking about where Ahsoka is and bursts into the barracks to ask the troopers if they’ve seen Ahsoka just to find her in the pile of his troopers between Jesse and Fives. He finds the sight too wholesome to disrupt so he takes a picture of it and leaves. Letting his children sleep in. He ends up framing that picture in his quarters much to Ahsoka’s annoyance when she finds it.

-Sometimes when the clones in the 501st have a illness like a cold instead of going to Kix (much to his annoyance) they to to their General. Sometimes they just want General Skywalker’s hugs, reassurance, and help. Appreciating the fatherly presence and warmth he gives them. He also happens to be really good at spotting when his troopers are ill, which Kix does actually appreciate because better they get General Skywalkers help then no help. (And Anakin does eventually tend to bring his sick troop to the medbay to make sure they’re alright)

-Sometimes on missions where locals are around a person or two has flirted with Ahsoka making her annoyed and uncomfortable as most of them tended being men older than her, but even the people who are age appropriate make her uncomfortable too as she isn’t interested in anyone at all. Usually Anakin would cut in and tell them to Kriff off and get away from his Padawan, but this time, Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Hardcase beat him to it. With Fives punching the 30 year old guy in the face, Echo shoving him to the ground, Jesse kicking him in the side, Hardcase stepping on him hard so he can’t move, and Rex telling him to never speak or go near his little sister again, telling him to kriff off before he faces a fate worse than death. Anakin smiles at them proudly while Ahsoka silently cries happy tears in the background from being called a “little sister” by her vod.

-I believe it’s already canon or a really universal headcanon that the clones speak mando, but I believe once Anakin and especially Ahsoka learn this they are both immensely determined to learn how to speak it, much to the hesitance to the 501st initially, they aren’t sure as it’s something that their’s. But quickly they get really close to both the commander and general and adopt them as their Vod’ika and Buir and teach them a few words until by the near end of the war it escalates to basically the entire language. (Anakin cries a lot when he learns what Buir means)

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save-the-villainous-cat · 1 year

Note

Hi uh.. wanna drop a request

Can you write about a depressed hero who has been sh a lot and really is not far from ending it only for the villain to discover this when they fight and take care of little hero ?

Its a lil personal request, I've been dealing with a lot lately and just .. yeah these bring me some comfort to read, I hope it's okay with you to write, if not always respectful. Take your time, I hope you're having a nice, chill day/night

Much love to you 🪅

tw: sh

For hours, the hero had been quiet now. They were sitting on the bed of the villain’s guest room and looked out of the window every now and then, picked at their skin frequently or just worried their lip between their teeth.

At first, the villain had decided to give them some space, just to give them the chance to get used to the huge apartment that was incomparable to the hero’s. But now, the villain was impatient as anxiety filled them up. They made tea again, knowing the hero would refuse anyway but at least it was an excuse to talk to them.

Talking was…difficult for the villain. They’d been raised to be an assassin. To keep their mouth shut and follow orders like a servant. So, expressing whatever they were feeling was often challenging. They rather made the bed for the hero, cooked for them or gave them gifts. They rather did something than talk.

“Tea?” the villain asked gently, a mug in each hand and pushing the door open with their elbow. They looked into the room curiously, eyeing the hero.

“Oh…” The hero turned around. “Oh, thank you. That’s very kind, you shouldn’t have…”

Before the hero could finish the sentence with “no, thank you,” they walked over to the bed, sat down and gave the hero the hot drink. For a few minutes, they both were silent but the villain tried desperately to find a topic to talk about.

“The bed is okay?”

The hero tore their gaze off the little park that was outside the house.

“Pardon?” they asked, tired yet polite.

“Are you comfortable here?”

Now, the hero smiled.

“Very much, thank you.” They put the mug down on the nightstand but the villain could see the slight shaking in the hero’s hands.

“You’re safe here.” The villain wanted to clarify that. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“Why not?”

The villain didn’t know what to say, couldn’t find the right words. But they saw the scars on the hero’s forearms, saw the wounds they had inflicted on themselves. Undoubtedly, the hero noticed that too.

“Can I touch them?” It was a thought that had just occurred. The villain got reminded of the many scars on their own body.

The hero’s eyes widened.

“No one has ever asked me that before,” they said.

“Can I?” the villain asked again. They put their mug right next to the hero’s.

“Yes.” The hero’s voice was thin but they also pushed up their sleeve. Some scars were older, some were fresh. Without thinking too much, or better, without thinking, the villain’s finger traced a line down the hero’s forearm.

“Fascinating,” they said. “Our body takes care of us.”

The villain lifted their own shirt to reveal a stomach that was full of scars, one particularly nasty one was right above their hip. The skin was so thin that the muscles were showing.

“Got that one from a mace.” They let their shirt fall back into place.

“You’re very different from what I expected you to be,” the hero confessed. “I thought you were this ruthless killer who is heartless.”

“I am,” the villain said.

“You’re not,” the hero answered. “God, you’re definitely not.”

The villain had no clue what that meant. But they saw the hero’s eyes and their behaviour. Sure, they tried to hide it with a fake smile for the cameras. But the villain knew that wasn’t real.

“You deserve to be here,” the villain said.

“Oh…well, thank you for having me.”

“No,” the villain said. They looked the hero directly in the eyes. “I meant, you deserve to be in this world. You deserve to live.”

The hero broke the eye contact and looked down at their own hands. Silence.

“You live for others so lovingly. Patiently waiting until they need you and sacrificing so much,” the villain said. “I wish I could tell you how much I admire you. And I wish you could believe me when I tell you that you are loved.”

The hero was still silent.

“Can I take care of them?” the villain asked and to their surprise, the hero nodded.

After the villain bandaged everything, they went to bed but it didn’t take long for the hero to knock on the villain’s door, asking if they could sleep in the villain’s bed too.

Obviously, the villain agreed and held their hand the whole night.

#I hope you’re doing better!♡#writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #tw: sh

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heartsofbeskar · 1 year

Text

the red wolf

mockingbird

oberyn martell x named fem!reader

warnings — language, sexual content, 18+ only

words — 3.8K

a/n: yall remember this?? yes??? i hope so!!

series masterlist — writing masterlist

prev — next

“I am going to be most blunt with you, Lady Stark. Have you and the Prince been intimate?”

The entire room seemed to still; the inhale of a fire breathing dragon moments before it expelled its deadly barrage of heat and destruction. They waited.

Count one.

Count two.

An exhale.

The steady thrum of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Lord Tywin, I—” A glance spared to Oberyn. He sat, impassive, as if he were a portrait that had been painted long ago, left in place of the man of flesh and blood. “No! No, of course not, I am— I would never—”

An unexpected reprieve came in the form of Mace Tyrell. His face was blotchy red, as if an inexperienced young girl had applied rouge at random to his uneven skin.

“Is it really appropriate, my Lord, to so publicly question something so sacred as the young girl’s virtue—”

“It is no more or less appropriate than the murder of my grandson on his own wedding day!” Tywin’s voice was raised with what an onlooker may have described as unrestrained anger — but it was measured, carefully meted out, as all the words that had come before.

Your hands shook where they were clenched together under the rim of the dias— they may as well have been chained as Tyrion’s were. The smaller man looked at you now, and it felt like the weight of a great boulder crushed into your chest as you realized there was pity in his eyes. You didn’t want it, and it soured in your stomach the longer you felt it — as if it would rot you from the inside out, the contents of your soul spilling out for all to see.

Finally, Oberyn spoke. The tone of his voice was casual, but you could hear the underlying strain, that sense of unease that crept into it like a viper slithering through the bed of a garden.

“Forgive me — I fail to see the relevance of my relationship with the Lady Stark to your son’s trial.” He gestured with one ring-covered hand at the older man adjacent to him. “A relationship which, I assure you, is most platonic in nature. We have both known the great depths of grief and it is a comfort to speak about it with someone who understands such things.”

The crowd was uncharacteristically silent as the two men held each other’s gaze, elevated upon the judge’s platform, on full display. Their facades seemed to be stripping away, layer by convoluted layer, hurtling towards the exposure of the raw core that lay underneath this entire charade.

They ordered the butchery of my sister, and her infant children.

Oberyn’s words — it seemed like so many lifetimes ago that the two of you had sat in the shared sanctity of that abandoned section of the gardens — echoed through your head, forming a haunting rhythm that beat against the inside of your skull, and your muscles throbbed with the intensity.

He seemed larger now, a hulking dragon that Tywin was all too eager to attempt to slay, as he had slain a entire house of dragons in the years before. The latter’s eyes shone with the potential blood that could be spilled over the dark stone floor. His brow twitched up his forehead by a hair's breadth.

Oberyn seemed to speak without need to open his mouth. Go ahead, old man. I have no fear of the true heart of this matter. Do you?

For a moment, a dizzying beat of time, you thought Tywin Lannister would rise to the silent taunt, that his cold demeanour would crumble and crack and scatter debris about King’s Landing.

He drew in a slow breath, and he lowered.

“Very well.” His tone was jovial, but a hand remained closed in a tight fist at his side. “I only feared, Prince Oberyn, that the young Lady Stark presumed to use you for your vast knowledge on bodily poisons to better inform a plot to kill the King … since he was poisoned.”

The blood continued to rush through your ears, a steady charge that echoed the days you spent in the woods of Winterfell. It was the streams in high summer, which would flow with the same ferocity and vigour towards lower ground, a race they did not even know they had entered into against nature itself. You went there now, eyes squeezing shut with a pressure almost painful.

Your feet would sit in the running water, the bottom of your skirts tinted dark where they had been splashed upon, the breeze kissing along the bare skin of your ankles. The image of your toes was rippled by the waves distorting their shapes and colours where they were submerged. Rays of sun would glint off the surface of the stream. You would stare up through the canopy of trees, hints of the sky beyond breaking through the thick overlay of their leaves, blue and bright as you’d always imagined the Summer Isles to be. Some days, you would lay on the gentle forest floor, the soft moss and mud providing a welcome respite from long afternoons in lessons with your young sisters.

Oberyn’s voice, warmth and honey, pulled you back, to your feet solid on the wooden dais, your breath sharp where it sat in your throat. It had been pulling you back for some time now.

“I am glad we were able to assuage your fears, my Lord.” He leaned back in the grand wood chair. You noticed, for the first time, the ornate carvings that adorned its edges, the grandeur of design in all the judges’ seats. It sat in stark contrast to the dirt and hatred of the accusations thrown across the room all day. “I hope you can rest in the knowledge that Lady Stark is as innocent in these matters as you are in them.”

You did not miss the double meaning to Oberyn’s words — and you knew Tywin did not either. They held gazes for another long moment.

“You are dismissed, Lady Stark,” he finally spoke. His voice was low, a lion crouched in the grass, prey helpless in its sights as he decided whether he should let it live or snap its neck. “I have no more questions for you.”

Numbness washed through you as you stood, and followed you as you approached the bench — Lord Varys looking on you with another set of sympathetic eyes you didn’t want — and you passed it entirely, the Gods themselves guiding your feet to take you out, out, out, until the warm air mercifully kissed your skin, and you swallowed it down in great volumes, though the sanded path before you swam in your vision.

The bushes lining the path swam, too, as you retched into them.

—

The stillness of your room unnerved you as you sat, sat and waited for a fate that wasn’t even yours, but felt heavy on you all the same. It was Tyrion Lannister who would lose his head if he was found guilty. Tyrion Lannister who would stare down the execution block, stained with the blood of all those who came before, including that of your own father. Tyrion Lannister who would be sentenced to death at the hands of his own family.

So why did it feel as if his fate would become your own?

You waited so long that the sun began its descent through the sky, cutting through clouds and painting them hues of violet and orange. Children who had played among the bushes, ducking and weaving as they exchanged the role of seeker and sought out their companion, were called in for their evening meal, the sound of their light footsteps fading as they rushed towards home. And you waited. For someone, anyone, to enter through the door and give you news that you weren’t even sure you wanted to hear.

Relief was a sweet drug in your veins when it was Oberyn.

Unabashed, uncaring how it appeared, you rushed to him, wrapping him in an embrace the moment the door closed securely behind him. You knew him — trusted him — to be clever enough to make his way here unnoticed.

You clung to him, hands fisted in the back of his robe, as if he were an anchor and you were in a storm at sea. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, warmth emanating from the point of contact.

“He’s demanded a trial by combat,” he said softly. His breath fanned over your hair. You pulled back, just an inch, to tilt your face toward his. You couldn’t read the expression in his dark eyes. “Tyrion. He knew men would never grant him a fair trial … but the Gods may.”

Your hands tightened in the fabric. You had never known the Gods to be so kind as to bestow proper justice.

“It is an ordeal for another day,” Oberyn murmured. He searched your face, pouring an intensity into you that made your head spin. “You must trust me. Do you?”

“You know that I do,” you breathed. You watched his throat bob, brows drawn together tightly.

As his hand descended down your back, the thumb making a soothing motion against the material of your bodice, you felt a weight drop through your chest, and you surged forward.

Your lips against his felt like coming home. His hand in your hair tightened, and he took half a step back in surprise before pressing back with just as much strength, moulding his mouth to yours in a comfortable and familiar pattern. They played well together, your mouth and his, and for the first time you admitted to yourself it was a game you never wanted to end.

It could have been a moment or it could have been a lifetime before you broke off from him, heavy breaths intermingling in the spare inch of space between your lips. Words seemed impossible to form, your mind filled with sweet syrup that dripped through your body where it pressed against his. You tugged, insistent, on the edges of his jacket, knuckles brushing against bare his skin underneath.

His free hand, warm and strong, came to rest on your waist and put pressure there, and for a terrifying moment you thought he meant to push you away. But then he followed your backwards movement easily, not giving room for any additional air between your bodies, and relief was a palpable taste in your mouth. He wanted this too.

You cupped your hands over his jaw, thumbs tracing along the hair styled there. It was longer than you were used to seeing on him, it’s shape less clean cut and more unruly, indicating that he had not shaved for several days now. Your mouth followed the path of your hands, descending from the sharpness of his jawbone to the smooth column of his neck. He tasted of the golden rays of the sun, of the steady richness of the earth beneath your feet. His skin underneath your mouth was the ground, and you floated down from the stars to meet it.

At your ministrations, he groaned, the sound vibrating out from his throat into your very bones, settling there. His thumb rubbed circles on your hip, the fabric just barely starting to bunch there.

“Raya…” he rumbled. “Little wolf.” You preened at both of your names from his lush mouth, pressing a hand to his arm and squeezing. “You must stop this before we go some place you cannot come back from.”

You pulled back, further this time, your eyes meeting his. They seemed to pass an infinite set of words between them before you could form any from your lips instead.

“I wish to go there, Oberyn,” you breathed. Even in the silence of the room, it was a strain to hear your own voice. “They all believe it anyway. Let me … please, I—“

His brow furrowed, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “This is not a kiss, little wolf.”

“I know.” Your voice came sharped this time, honed by the blade of frustration and the dissolution of hope. “They have taken … everything from me. My home, my family, my future.” You choked on the words as they clawed their way through your throat, leaving wounds over the scars that had existed there. “I want this and I want … I want to know someone who is kind and gentle. I want that, and I want it to be you. Please. Do not condemn me to a life without it.”

His eyes seemed to soften, and you closed yours as a familiar burn built within them. You felt a hand — so soft you could almost believe it was the wind — brush back the hair that had fallen into your face.

“Then it would be my honour.”

Before your eyes could open again, his lips were on yours once more, this time with a softness that threatened to melt your body from the inside. A single tear slipped free from its reins, spilling over your skin, leaving a hot trail behind. Oberyn wiped it away with a slow stroke of his thumb. He began to walk, urging you backwards, your steps clumsy but unhurried as he continued his attentions upon your mouth.

You were feeling dizzy with it by the time your legs made contact with the bed behind you. With a sharp inhale, you broke off the kiss, your eyes blinking rapidly to adjust. His hands wasted not a single moment, moving down — your neck, your arms, circling your waist before settling behind you, where he deftly began to unstring the intricate laces of your bodice. You mentally cursed your own dressing decisions from that morning, but he seemed not to struggle, the fabric falling away from your body as it was an enemy he’d cut down on the field of battle without a second thought. The cool air rising from the bay kissed the bare skin of your shoulders, your back, you legs, as the dress pooled ever downwards, leaving you only in your light shift beneath.

A shiver crawled up your spine. Upon seeing it, Oberyn brushed a gentle hand down the bones.

“Will it hurt?” you murmured. Your mother and Old Nan had imbued you with stories of the loss of maidenhood, a woman’s first battle, where she would adorn the sheets with blood not so dissimilar to her own flowering.

He pushed you back further still, leaving you no choice but to climb onto the mattress behind you, gooseflesh rising where your bare skin met the silks of the bedding. The pillows gave way beneath you, a soft space to land as he hovered above you. Oberyn lowered his face into the crook of your neck, his breath pooling there.

“No, my little wolf,” he whispered into your skin. “It will, most assuredly, not hurt.”

Despite his words, you struggled to believe him, and you couldn’t help but feel your muscles tense slightly as his hand crept lower, running along your stomach, still covered by your shift, until he reached the tops of your thighs. His fingers played along the skin there, testing, as he propped himself up on his other elbow. His jacket had fallen open fully, exposing his chest underneath. It was smooth, golden, radiating a warmth that compensated for any chill entering the room from the open window.

His eyes poured into you as his hand slowly ran along the edge of your smallclothes, seeking permission at every step. You brought a hand up to the back of his head, running it through the close cropped but soft hair. You nodded almost imperceptibly, but he saw.

Drawing the last of your clothing down, pushing your shift up around your stomach, Oberyn touched you with reverence you had never imagined possible as he approached the place which no man had ever seen. You spared only a moment’s thought to the belief you’d had, once, that your husband would have been the first and only one to know you this way. He was faceless, nameless, some lord or knight whose face was soft and manner was kindly. Not yours to chose, but yours alone to have.

Oberyn was none of those things, but he was the one you wanted regardless.

Never breaking eye contact, his hand grazed along the apex of your thighs, light at first but increasing in pressure as you didn’t push it away. Your breath was caught in your throat, at first solely because it was cold — not because of the temperature of his skin but because of the sheer heat coming off of you in waves. You could feel it burn along the skin of your inner thighs. His hand was ice in comparison.

He continued to increase the pressure of his fingers on you, harder and harder still, but gently stroking all the while, and something began to build. You gasped into his mouth, hovering now above yours, eyes shutting unbidden against the sensation you struggled to make sense of for the first time in your life. His hand now worked masterfully on the very core of you, the blazing embers of a fire you had never imagined you possessed.

Time seemed to slow to a syrupy crawl under his ministrations, and you began to feel suspended from it entirely. All that was, all that had ever existed, was the two of you in this bed, his hands on you, and yours on him where you grasped the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin whilst the pleasure built under yours.

“Howl for me, little wolf.” Oberyn’s voice was light and breathy, and his mouth descended onto your neck as his own body moved in rhythm with yours. You felt the hardness of him against your thigh, thinly veiled by the linen pants he still wore. You tried your best to oblige him, but all that passed your lips was an equally breathy moan. He laughed, not unkindly. The flow of it over your skin only heightened what you were feeling. “I suppose that’s close enough.”

You could not help but to laugh in return, but it was soon cut off by a gasp as he pressed one strong finger inside of you.

It was fast becoming too much for you to bear, and you buried your face into the side of Oberyn’s, legs tightening of their own will around his forearm. He placed soft kisses onto the column of your throat, as if in encouragement. His finger crooked just so, his thumb pressing in succession, his lips searing hot against your skin, and the waves crashed upon the beach inside of you, your whole body tensing with an exquisite ache.

“You are beautiful,” Oberyn said. His eyes saw into your soul, into the essence of your being, and were full of nothing but admiration as he looked upon you. Gaze never straying from yours, he shifted, and with a few slow strokes pulled his hand away.

He admired the remnants you’d left on his fingers, before bringing them back down to tend to his own garments. In a blur his pants were discarded, and you heard the soft sound of them landing somewhere undetermined on the stone floor. He came to settle between your legs, and you secured him there with your limbs in turn, but still — he hesitated.

You drew a hand along his jaw, cupping it in your palm, thumb gently tracing over his cheek. It felt as if your life hinged on this moment. All of the things your family had imagined for you fell to one side, with all that you wanted falling to the other. And, for once, you had a choice to tip the balance. With just three words, you did.

“I want this.”

It seemed that Oberyn needed not a word more. His mouth descended on yours, a kiss so reminiscent of the first one shared between you as he entered you. Instinctively your hands came up grasp his arms to either side of you as you processed the barrage of feelings coming over you.

As he continued to move within you — to make love to you, to take you, to fuck you — your mind spun. You could not believe that this was the woman’s duty as so many had spoken of it to you, from the time you were a young girl not yet flowered. A service to one’s husband, they had said. A responsibility most serious, to provide men with heirs at their behest.

But this… this was no duty, no sacrifice, no service you were to perform. This surely must be something different entirely, something sweeter than summerwine and immensely more intoxicating. With every movement of Oberyn’s hips, pleasure rippled through you, building impossibly high and crashing through every inch of your skin. You were on fire, you were submerged in ice. You were alive and you were dead. You were everywhere and you were nowhere, all in the same moment in time.

One of his hands explored your body at will, grazing against a breast, still hidden by the thin fabric of your shift, his thumb tracing around where you could see one nipple peaking a tent through it. Continuing its path, his hand descended between your thighs again, and this time you let out a stream of moans as the feelings layered within you, pooling in your centre.

“Oberyn. Oberyn.” Your voice came out as a whimper, saying his name like a prayer. He groaned, a long and low sound in the back of his throat, and his hips stuttered in their rhythm. Warmth grew within you, emanating from the point you were connected, settling in your limbs. His hand redoubled its efforts, and you followed him back into the waves, where they once again washed over your head, pulling you underneath to drown in the waters.

Moments later — you could not say how many or how you got there — he cradled you into his warm chest, his hand stroking along the bare skin of your upper back. You let yourself settle against him, your mind finally wiped free of kings and lords and wars and trials. It was only the two of you, and this room, and this bed. He had you, body and soul, and you him. And since the moment you’d left Winterfell, this felt like the only correct turn you’d been able to make.

You drew back for a moment to admire the planes of his face before pressing up with a gentle kiss against his lips, which were full with colour and swollen. You did not want to imagine what yours looked like.

“Raya,” he murmured against your lips. You smiled, only for a moment until the next words escaped him. “I’m going to volunteer as Tyrion’s champion.”

——

oh hello! im not sure if.. anyone still wants to be tagged in this but ill do everyone i tagged last chapter and if you dont want that lmk!

@radiowallet @pedros-mustache @magpie-to-the-morning @heavenseed76 @dazedrhapsody @highsviolets @sherala007 @adancedivasmom @skeletoncowboys @xsadderdazeforeverx @iamskyereads @mswarriorbabe80 @prettylilhalforc @elinedjarin @spoopyredacted @frannyzooey @fan-of-encouragement @djarinsbeskar @fucktheforce @leannawithacapitala @starla1979

love u all mwuah

#game of thrones fanfic #oberyn martell x original character #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell #game of thrones #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #mywriting

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estelofrivendell · 8 months

Text

The Outlaw and The Ranger (Aragorn x Female Reader)

Dedicated to @entishramblings!

A/N: This is a part 2ish of my fic A Change of Heart. Read part 1 first if you haven’t, this isn’t going to make much sense without the background info. I didn’t mean to make a part 2, but I gave Vaya permission to write her own version of this storyline. In turn, it inspired me to write a part 2.

Word count (i’m going to start adding this instead of just posting my fics with not a lot of info and calling it a day): 3,4k

Warnings: Violence, death, description of disturbing imagery and fluids. This is not a dead dove fic, however!

Summary: After adjusting to a new lifestyle, Aragorn’s life is on the line and you are forced to meet with someone you used to know.

Every child was told to be careful and leave swiftly if they stumble upon someone resembling you or Aragorn. Encountering you both at the same time was their nightmare come true and people held on to their companions tightly if you were in their line of sight. The reputation you two earned for yourselves were as credible as an old wives’ tale. There was a time when everything they said about you was correct, valid and reliable but those days are long gone now. Aragorn was so different from what everyone says about him that you wondered if he had some petty enemy spreading false rumours about him.

Your change of heart was perhaps the most unforeseen situation; it scared your companions and enemies alike. Both thought you were possessed and your kindness was an act to help you bring their downfall. It was the most stupid guess but also half correct; you wanted to fight back against evil brutes who sought enjoyment in ruining innocent lives. Aragorn insisted your mercy was your greatest strength. Others disagree, likening your mercy to cowardice. They warned you that would be your downfall.

After Aragorn healed you in his home, you started to be on the lookout for anyone preying on the vulnerable. Most people kept to themselves and anything out of the ordinary was highly rare, but highly rare did not mean it never happened. Nothing happened on the first night so you treated yourself to some ale. The first person you saved was a young woman backed into a corner by a man threatening her. You struck him with a mace you found nearby and bashed his skull twice more to ensure he was dead. If anyone of the two was going to get killed, you were going to ensure it was not the woman. As you beat the man, she screamed and turned away, unable to watch it all happen. She tried to take a look at his body when she heard it collapse, but she quivered and shut her eyes.

“You- you killed him!” The woman scooted away from you but at the same time your presence put her at ease.

“It was you or him,” you said, offering your hand, which she did not take. “It would not be right to let him hurt you.”

The woman stood, taking a long hard look at you. “Thank you.” And before you could check if she was truly well, she left in haste.

The second one you saved was a boy no older than thirteen. He put on a façade to be seen as older as he was, insulting and hurling curses at the man that had been following him and with the boy’s appearance one could guess the stress he was under. When you rid him of his assailant, he shrunk back in fear and he looked and acted his age. Thinking you were going to hurt him next, he fled when he saw you.

You were no hero nor were you trying to be one, but why do nothing when you had it in you to help others?

Aragorn introduced you to his wizard friend, Gandalf, and vouched for you. The old man took one look at you before greeting you warmly as if you were an old friend. You never had any proper education but all your years as an assassin taught you everything you need to know; as soon as you set your eyes on him, he was already the most enigmatic person you ever met. Aragorn was quick to shut your questions down, fuelling your puzzlement. Nevertheless he was still a friend of Aragorn’s. If he trusted this Gandalf, then there was no reason you shouldn’t.

It was Gandalf you turned to when Aragorn was gone for longer than he promised you he would. You of all people knew it was impossible to determine exactly how long a task would take, but your gut told you something was wrong, tremendously wrong. Despite his wisdom and exceeding knowledge of the world and its habitants, all he could offer you was an apologetic smile.

Your assumptions, much to your horror, proved to be correct when you came home to a letter on your floor. You recognised the writing in an instant and you growled. Aragorn had been taken by someone you used to work with. Beren was his name; named after the First Age hero who fell in love with Lúthien Tinúviel, he was nothing like his namesake. No, he was not as terrible as you at your worst, but he was almost there. Knowing him, it meant there was a chance Aragorn was dead by the time you read the letter, but you refused to be pessimistic. There was always hope. You were going to be there for him as he was for you.

That night, you laid on your bed, thinking about the letter and prayed for Aragorn’s safety. The gods never answered you before. You hoped they would take the time to listen to you for once. As you slept, you dreamt of all the lives lost for your sake. Majority of the faces you did not recall nor did you learn some of their names. Many you learned went forgotten. But the ones you remembered vividly haunted you after all these years and your guilt consumed you. The dead do not forget.

Save for a bruise on his forehead, Aragorn was mostly unharmed when you found him in the confined dungeon, though he was completely dirty. For someone who has had to endure the most unhealthy of environments to do his work as a ranger, he reacted rather badly when you stepped in with a candle in your hand. It was not unfair to assume he spent longer than a fortnight in pitch darkness. With that in mind you understood how it can drive even the strongest of will into madness.

So long had time passed since last you were in the dungeon yet everything looked the way you remember it. You interrogated people you were paid to capture here and there where if neither the beatings they would endure nor the darkness broke them into giving in, exposure to the stench of urine, shit and death would.

You cut the bonds around him, careful to not cut yourself or him, and as soon as his hands were free, he brought you into the first hug you two ever shared. You liked to call yourself contained, but no act would throw you so off guard ever again the same way he hugged you.

“Get yourself out of here, it is you he is truly after.” Aragorn gently grabbed your face. Of course, he thought of others in times he should be thinking about himself. “I believe I know of a way out. The trapdoor over there. The closer we are there the more unbearable the smell is, but it is our only way of escape and will lead us out of town.”

You were impressed and puzzled. “How did you know about that? I watched men descend into madness after a long time. None of them had a clue, yet here you are, aware of the all secrets of this place.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes. “This is not the first time I found myself in circumstances like this. Believe me when I tell you I spent four moons locked in a tower before discovering an exit many winters back.”

You envisioned Aragorn looking out from a high tower, paralysed with fear. It was too comical to think of someone as resourceful and strong as Aragorn imprisoned in a tower that you let out a laugh, which echoed off the walls, answered by a different voice.

“My old friend. Did you miss me as I missed you?” You turned around to see Beren by the doorway, holding a candle in one hand, his other hand hovering over his sword, with an ugly beefy man behind him. He was unarmed but his physique guaranteed his lack of necessity for a weapon. “If you want him to live, I want you to listen to me carefully and do everything I say.”

Aragorn took a step, now standing between you and Beren. “You do not have the right to command her, lowlife scoundrel.”

Enraged, Beren swung his fist at Aragorn’s face, breaking his nose. He nodded at the man behind him who scurried over to Aragorn. The huge ugly man grabbed Aragorn from behind to hinder any chances of escape and Aragorn attempted to break free by using his elbows. Taking your dagger out, you ran to his aid, but the man restraining Aragorn briefly released him by shoving him to the floor, before punching you in the face so hard you staggered backwards and fell, leaving you with a broken nose. Groaning in pain, you clutched your face in your hands and felt blood trickling down into your mouth, the taste of it nauseating you. You did not notice you dropped your dagger in the chaos.

As you struggled to get up, you heard Beren say, “Stop! Leave her, I want her unharmed!” You saw the man that hit you now holding Aragorn at knifepoint with your own dagger, leaving you at their mercy. You had a sword with you; in your group you were the best at wielding one and Beren’s skill was laughable at best compared to yours, and you already knew the other man wouldn’t know how to hold one even if you teach it to him a hundred times. For Aragorn’s sake, however, you did not dare unsheath it.

Your hands hovered over your belt bag carrying money in case he accepted a ransom and you felt all their eyes on you. “What are you trying to accomplish with this? Is it money you want? That I have, but I do not recall you mentioning a ransom in your letter. Nor do I understand why you need more money when you already have lots of it.”

His eyes turned dark. “Money can buy everything except for my sister’s life. I never forgot and I never will. I did this to prove to you that I am not afraid of you. When I heard you were involved with Strider, I found my chance and I took it. Do not take me for a fool. I never took you for one. I must say killing Strider will bring Andreth to justice and it evens things out between us. I would even do it for free, unlike you. A loved one for another.”

His sister. How could you forget that? It was the root of his deep hatred of you. One of his worst enemies reached out to you and offered the most handsome price to kill Andreth. You can still hear her cries and pleads; when you said nothing, she did her last act of praying. You felt a pang of remorse in your heart at the memory and you thought you were about to cry. Nevertheless, you stood straight and looked at him firmly, for you will not risk your friend’s life on your own feelings.

“And I am sorry Andreth died and that I was the one to kill her. Let me take Strider’s place. How will killing him bring justice to her? Do as you wish with me so long as you set him free.”

Beren paced around for a full minute or two before he spoke again. “Since I learned you murdered her, I wanted you dead. I do not hate an offer that makes my dream come true. I want to see you suffer and make you watch as I kill your Strider, but killing you myself is much more enjoyable.”

“If that is how you feel, then spare me your nonsense and kill me already. All I need is your word you will let Strider go.”

“You have my word. I shall let him go once I am finished with you. I like the idea of him watching.” He drew his sword and aimed it at you. You inhaled sharply when you felt the tip of his sword touch your neck.

You waited for death to take you, but it never happened. What happened next was Aragorn in his fury freed himself out of the man’s grip and elbowed him in the neck, bringing him unconscious or to death, and tackled Beren to the floor with your dagger at his neck. You noticed Beren reaching for his sword and you grabbed it before he could, flinging it away.

“I will not let you touch her,” Aragorn growled, pressing the dagger against Beren’s neck enough to cause bleeding. “I will be dead before I let you!”

Beren smirked, hitting Aragorn in the face and wrestled for the dagger. He won possession of it, and to your horror, plunged your dagger in Aragorn’s abdomen. Beren stood and made his way to you, but you did not fear for your own safety. He hurt the light of your life, the one who gave you hope when everything looked bleak and showed you life had beautiful things to offer. And you were going to make him pay for it.

You drew your own sword and cut his head off so swiftly you knew he died not knowing what was going on. It took you a full minute to realise what you had just done, heaving as you took a step back in disbelief, your hand on your chest. What is wrong with me? The death of your old companion brought a bad taste in your mouth. How fitting it was that he died by my hand rather than I die by his. How poetic it was that I killed him and his sister. At least they are together now. Thinking about Andreth saddened you and you grieved for the siblings.

You rushed to Aragorn’s side, who was slumped against the wall with a hand on his abdomen. “I have endured worse before,” he said.

“Is that going to make me feel better?” You snapped, pulling his arm away before you took out healing herbs and started tending to him. “Lucky it was not your heart. That was very unlike you, you know, being so brash.”

“I would never live with knowing you died when there was something I could have done. Is it unlike me to save whom I love?”

You wanted to say, “Did you just say you love me?” But what came out instead was, “There was a time when you would leave me for the bears to feast on if it came down to it.”

Aragorn frowned. “I despised you before our first meeting, yes, but I would never do that.”

You helped him to his feet. “We need to get out of here. He is not the only one that uses this place and the others would have my head if they learned what I did.” You stepped out to lay hold of the candelabra on the wooden table by the door before beginning your way out.

Aragorn relied on you for support, making the journey out painfully longer than it needed to be. Your arm shook uncontrollably as you tried not to watch the wax on every candle melting. There were many skeletons at either side of the eerie tunnel, other mutilated corpses were still rotting and there were fluids everywhere. You and Aragorn were no stranger to disturbing sights, but this went on for what seemed to be hours. You felt a knot in your stomach and almost threw up. It was past midnight with stars everywhere and a full moon when you two spotted the stairs that led you out of the tunnel and into a peaceful and quiet village. You were thankful it was late at night instead of morning; being seen covered in filth, smelling of filth and blood visible on your faces (and abdomen for Aragorn) was the last thing you wanted at the moment.

Few of the homes were vacant and you entered the first vacant home you saw. You looked around to see a small table with three chairs and doors to the two bedrooms, where Aragorn dismissed himself into the one on the left. When you finally entered the bedroom, you saw he was leaning on the mahogany headboard. You stood by and rested a hand on the doorway.

“He had a motive,” said Aragorn, after a long silence.

“He did. He loved his sister the most.”

“I did not agree with his plans. As you said, what good will killing me do? And if he killed you, it would not bring back his sister.”

“How would you have done it?”

"Turn them in. They can rot in their cells miserably as they are forgotten and no one mourns them. That is the fate they deserve."

You gave him an empty smile. "Is that the fate you think I deserve?"

Aragorn facepalmed, sighing. "Let us not talk about this any longer. I think you are a good person and you do not realise it just yet, because all your life you were in an undesirable environment and had to make the best of your circumstances. If you murdered them out of pure malice, that is different, but your only motive was to support yourself. So, no, you do not deserve that fate, since you faced a different situation. I am not going to leave you."

"You are my only true friend. Do you know that?"

"And you are mine."

After giving your respective good nights, you dreamt of dancing with Aragorn in the moonlight. You deemed that to be the strangest dream you ever had the moment you woke up.

You ventured from home to home, village to village, checking carefully for any residents. While Aragorn recovered, you stole food to cook and clothes to wear. One night, you found a young girl trying to steal food, struggling as the market owner was right there, who insisted she go home. She looked eleven or twelve. Feeling sorry for her, you approached her.

“Hey.” The girl gasped and took a few steps back when she saw you. All the people you tried to help always do that, but what can you do? “Hey, I won’t hurt you.”

“My mother said I should never talk to strangers,” she said, stammering.

“Your mother is a wise woman. I’m not here to hurt you, do not worry.” To prove you weren’t, you opened your bag and showed her the food you stole prior to meeting her. “That’s all yours now. It’s not plentiful, but it will do.”

The girl’s eyes widened and took all the food without any question, stuffing it in her bag. “Thank you. This is more than enough for us.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Saying a final thanks, the girl slowly walked away and made her way back home, taking a glance at you every other second. You looked at the market that was about to close and walked towards it as you took the coins you had out of your bag, purchasing the same food you stole and later gave to the girl. The market owner was a merry man, cordially greeting you. He never had a suspicion you were the reason why so many of his goods disappeared.

Watching over Aragorn reminded you of the time you were in his place and he took care of you. To have someone in your care was new to you; you knew how to dress wounds and did it for a fellow outlaw, but never tended to someone like this.

By the time you reached the last home you would have to occupy, Aragorn was near full recovery and you decided it was time to talk about something you wanted to bring up but never got to.

“Do you remember anything in the dungeon?” You asked him, sitting together on the bed. “Or is it a blur to you by now?”

“I remember it all vividly,” he replied. “What about it?”

“You said to me, ‘Is it unlike me to save whom I love?’ Am I understanding you correctly? Did you mean that?”

“I did mean it. I do love you. I do not know how it happened, but it did, and I think I would not have it any other way.”

“Really? Will it relieve or trouble you to hear that I love you too?”

He put a hand on your cheek and said softly, “Before, I would be disgusted at the thought of you loving me. Now, the thought of that completes me.”

He leaned in and kissed you.

“I love you,” he said again.

#lord of the rings imagine #lotr imagine #aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine

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charalysis · 3 months

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GoW: Modi

I am certain by now a handful have seen my replies to that post about Modi from another poster, but I would like to take the time to put together a comprehensive post about my opinions on Modi, my personal analysis, and general thoughts. Without too many "what ifs" about his potential as a person or character, and minimal speculation where possible.

So in this post we will be looking at Modi's presentation of himself in the 2018 game, what others say of him in Ragnarok, and his relationships with family as are observable in game. I will be injecting my personal views on the character, obviously, similar to the Magni post.

When we are introduced to Modi alongside his older brother Magni. Physically, Modi is the smaller of the two, having inherited less of the physical giant qualities than Magni. However, between them, Modi is basically a copy of Thor. His hair, eyes, and build come right from Thor, for better or worse. Usually worse, it seems.

Modi is very much the stereotype of an ignored middle child, with the high achievement older brother, and baby princess sister. Modi is mentioned last repeatedly by Thor, and I do fully believe that it has something to do with how he looks, and not necessarily his behavior.

It's repeatedly mentioned that Magni was the favored son, getting all the credit for rescuing Thor from rubble, when it was both him and Modi. Magni was the heir to Mjolnir for the longest time, being stronger, smarter, and generally "Better" than Modi. Part of this is because Magni is "blonder", according to Mimir. I mentioned in my Magni post that this favoritism could come from association to Sif, who was likely seen as a fine addition to the family, and her being blonde made others associate the blonde Magni with her.

Modi looking like Thor and bearing what seems to be the brunt of the abuse from Thor could be tied together. Modi even tries to emulate his father's clothing and tattoos. Even the mace he has, which is not a typical Norse weapon, if it was at all, mimics the appearance of Mjolnir.

Thor has intense feelings of self hate, referring to himself often as a destroyer, and he even says all he's good for is "pissing mead and killing".

Modi possibly reminds Thor of himself.

The disdain he feels towards Modi is likely not really about Modi himself, and more about Thor. Because it does seem he loved Modi, even if he couldn't express it due to his own hang ups.

It's clear Modi admires his father, dressing similar to him, styling his hair and beard similar to his, trying to emulate his hammer as best he can... And it seems up to the end, he was trying to make Thor see him and appreciate him and his efforts.

We also need to look at Modi's upbringing.

Thor and Sif were absent in the boys' childhoods from what we understand. They were drunk and abusive (Sif and Thor do recall kinder memories with the boys when they were young, but generally they seemed to be absent). This likely left Magni, a child himself, to fend for himself and tend to Modi. Modi likely spent a good chunk of his childhood with Magni.

He does clearly love his brother, panicking and being distraught when Magni is killed, implying they're somewhat close, at least for Modi.

Being raised by another child wouldn't have given Modi a good foundation for emotional regulation, which could very well explain his poor emotional control post Magni's death (along with fear around Thor's reaction of course).

However, being basically raised by Magni likely meant he was also abused by him, as Magni would likely try to imitate what Thor did, for better or worse. On top of the abuse he suffered growing up, Odin ensured the environment he grew up in wasn't a free one. In fact I wouldn't be surprised if Modi, and by extension Magni of course, were subjected to very strict rules by Thor because of Odin. Odin did not like his grandsons, calling them useless in the first interaction we have with him in the game.

It's quite likely Modi had severe control issues.

Living in the shadow of your older brother, having to do what he and your parents demand, being beaten repeatedly... It's not surprising to me that Modi seems aimless and a little lost after Magni dies. And it would explain his decision to attempt to kidnap Atreus and force him to be his new brother.

Modi wanted someone he could control for once, someone small and vulnerable like he was as a child. Because you know Thrúd was off limits in that regard.

Thor would have killed Modi had Modi done anything beyond brotherly teasing and messing about. (For the record, I think Modi treated Thrúd well, given the fact that it seems she misses him. I think Modi saw his tiny sister and wanted to be for her the brother he didn't have growing up. Modi's intentions, perceived or no, with Atreus as "his new brother" are formed in terror and heightened emotion.)

Fear seems to actually be a major component in Modi's character.

Let's examine his weapons and fighting style first.

Modi sports the mace and shield. The mace rarely is used in actual attacks, aside from lighting. He primarily bangs on the shield with it to summon his lighting and presumably to taunt. Where Magni charges in, Modi seems to try and keep his distance and remain defensive. Lighting lands sporadically around him, adding yet another shield of sorts to hide behind. He does not like facing things head on like his brother. I'd even argue that in the fight with him and Magni, he uses Magni as a shield to get to Atreus, letting the older Aesir attack Atreus's shield, Kratos.

We can also examine this defensive behavior in how he talks to others.

He's wildly, and even unnecessarily abrasive. He seems to enjoy goading people, particularly Atreus when face to face with the boy. He seems to put up a front of being confident and cocky, but I don't think he really is. It's more likely he's emulating the older or more favored relatives around him. Thor's combat confidence (which is well earned on Thor's part because he is a tough one to fight), Baldur's taunts and goading, and possibly even something of Magni's cockiness.

In his last moments, in his second to last encounter, when Magni dies... In those moments we see the facade slip. We see him for what he is: a cowering little boy.

Tl;Dr: Modi, like Magni, is a victim of abuse. There is no denying that, especially as one of his last experiences was being beaten by his father. But he was just as willing and likely to perpetuate the abuse because it's what he knew and he wanted to take out his grievances on someone smaller than him. He's a brat and a bit of a creep. But it is also very likely that inside, he is just a kid trying to emulate his idol, his father

#character analysis #gow ragnarok #long post #gow modi #god of war 2018 #god of war #modi thorson #modi #magni thorson #thor odinson #gow atreus

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topperscumslut · 1 year

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Let’s Talk About Jay Kelso

Warning: spoilers for That 90s Show

So I just binged T90S, and I’m not really sure how to feel, particularly about Jay. On one hand, I did really like his character, but not as much as I thought I would. And part of me thinks that’s my own fault for creating this idea in my mind of exactly what I thought he would be like without the show even being out yet, but part of me feels justified in my disappointment in the way his character was written and I’m wondering if anyone else agrees with me on this.

Jay started out really strong, he was flirty and charismatic, yet cheesy and respectful. The first two episodes have kind of blurred together at this point since I pulled an all nighter to watch this and I’m coming down from my caffeine high, but I saw a lot of potential for his character that I really didn’t see fulfilled in the rest of the series. Let me preface this by saying that I do not blame Mace Coronel, who plays Jay, AT ALL for this. I adore Mace and believe he’s beyond talented and did the best he could with what he was given. I blame it on lazy writing. As much as I love both T70S and T90S, a lot of the writing REALLY pisses me off (especially the treatment of Jackie in both shows, but that’s a topic for another time).

In my opinion, Jay peaked in episode three and it was all kind of downhill from there. Again, I still enjoyed his character, but it wasn’t what I expected or wanted from him. And maybe I am just projecting and set unreasonable expectations for his character, but I have a strong feeling the fandom will agree with me on this. Ep3 Jay really felt like the fanon Jay that I had imagined in my mind and had seen in posts from other users on here. He was still a charismatic flirt, but he was also slightly awkward, incredibly sweet, and a little dorky like I had imagined him. Between what I’d seen in trailers, official character descriptions, other tumblr users’ fan theories, and my own imagination, I imagined Jay having the charm of Kelso but much more depth. I saw him as being a bit of a nerd who loves girls but, unlike his father, isn’t a womanizer and genuinely respects them. I imagined him as very introspective, poetic, and intelligent, which I didn’t really see much of at all after episode three. Kelso himself even says in the pilot that Jay has his good looks and Jackie’s brains. And Jackie was always truly intelligent, even though she usually wasn’t treated that way. He was also described as always having a camera with him and constantly taking videos and photos of his friends which, correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think we saw that even once in this season. In my mind, Jay Kelso was a goofy film geek who’s popular with the ladies due to his good looks and charisma, but in a much more unconventional way than his father is. But as the series progressed, I felt like he became more and more like Kelso. Which sucks because I despise Kelso with a passion.

Let’s talk about what I liked about Jay in episode three. When Leia tries to get Jay to kiss her, he turns her down because he doesn’t want her to be a meaningless fling and because he can tell this isn’t really what she wants. So I was like okay, consent king, respecting women, we love to see it. I also fully expected Jay to be a virgin for a couple reasons. First of all, in the original series, all of the core cast (except maybe Hyde) were virgins at the beginning of the series, EVEN KELSO, and besides Jackie, they were all older than the T90S crew at 17/18, whereas the next gen of Point Place kids are all 14-16, maybe some of them 17. But in T90S it’s heavily implied that the whole gang beside Leia (and possibly Ozzie, since his boyfriend lives in Canada) have all lost their virginity. Secondly, it would be such a plot twist. A Kelso being a virgin? Unspeakable! I fully expected this grand reveal of Jay saying he doesn’t want to make the same mistakes of his father and that he’s waiting for the right person, someone he’s truly in love with, and that person being Leia (though I am glad that Jay and Leia didn’t have sex for multiple reasons. The age of the characters, their lack of chemistry, and the age difference between the actors, to name a few). I was also genuinely surprised at Jay’s lack of daddy issues. All the posts with spoilers from before the show was out from people who had seen tapings suggested Kelso being an absent father who doesn’t really love or care for Jay, which led me to believe Jay would want to be as little like his father as possible, but there was literally nothing about that in the show. Also, a bit off topic, but can we talk about how awful the circumstances of Jay and Leia getting together were? Sure they developed genuine feelings for each other eventually, but it literally starts with Leia being like “hey, I want my first kiss, and my only option’s Jay. Eh, might as well, better than nothing.”

All of these hopes were crushed in episode four when we find out that not only has Jay had sex, which okay, fine, whatever, but he’s also a player who’s broken multiple girls hearts, and it’s implied that he does this on purpose. So basically Kelso 2.0. Cool. While I do have critiques for the other episodes, I did genuinely enjoy them, whereas I absolutely despise episode four to the point where I hardly even consider it canon. Between the horrible light it painted Jay in and the insensitive and disgusting Menendez brothers joke that made me actually pause the show for a good ten minutes to process it and almost give up on the show completely, episode four was horrendous. When Nikki suggests that Jay has feelings for Leia and actually sees her as a person and not just a sex object, Jay seems genuinely surprised at best, if not disgusted. While him telling Leia in the previous episode that he doesn’t want her to be a meaningless hookup implied that he treated all women with this level of respect, this seems to flip the script to say that he sees only Leia this way, because she’s “different.” Why, because she’s the main character, because she’s a “pure” nerdy virgin, because she’s “not like other girls?” Why is Leia put on a pedestal and treated like she deserves better than other girls whereas the rest aren’t worthy of basic respect? (If this sounds familiar, it’s because this is exactly how Donna was treated in the original series as opposed to every single other girl on the show, particularly Jackie.) Because Leia is “special” she “deserves” to be treated with basic human decency, unlike “other girls,” because fuck them, right? At the rave, we see what could have been a cute moment where Leia and Jay confess their feelings for each other, but instead, Jay takes advantage of her vulnerability and arrogantly declares that he “knew it” when Leia admits her feelings rather than telling her he feels the same way. However it’s hard to hold all of this against Jay considering how out of character this seems for him. Episodes 1-3 paint him as kind and empathetic, whereas episodes 5-10 continue that sort of personality for him, but also turn him into a one note love interest that doesn’t have much else to his character. Episode four Jay literally feels like an entirely different character than the rest of the series.

In either episode four or five, forgive me for not remembering, we meet Serena, who could essentially be replaced with a piece of cardboard and nothing would change. Serena literally only exists to be “the other woman” getting in the way of Jay and Leia’s relationship. While Leia, thankfully, isn’t unkind to her just because she’s with Jay, the writers are. Unlike Leia, apparently Serena doesn’t deserve a happy ending, a good boyfriend, or a shred of respect. She’s older, she dresses in a more conventionally attractive way, and her personality is nonexistent. It’s unclear if Jay *technically* cheated on Serena; while Leia calls her Jay’s girlfriend, it’s important to take into account that Leia is an unreliable narrator and it’s entirely possible that Jay and Serena were just casually going out and not official (especially considering they were just going on their first date a day or two before Leia’s birthday), but it’s also a very real possibility that Jay did cheat on her when he kisses Leia on her birthday. Regardless of if they were official or not, it’s pretty shitty that Jay entirely casts her aside as soon as Leia shows interest. Serena who, right? No seriously, that’s literally what he says. If the roles were reversed and it was Leia he did this to, Jay would be seen as a total asshole, but since it’s Serena, we’re not supposed to care. For my swifties out there, Leia is Betty, Jay is James, and Serena is Augustine - just a “summer thing.” So not only is Jay a “player” and a “man whore” as he’s called by his own friend group, he’s also likely a cheater. Sure, he’s Kelso’s son, but that doesn’t mean he has to be a carbon copy. It’s like the writers copy and pasted Kelso into the 90s, edited a few things, and said “yeah, that’s good enough, no one will be able to tell.”

While this may sound like I hate Jay, I really don’t. In fact, he’s still probably my favorite character in the reboot, although I’m probably a bit biased due to my affections for him from before the show came out (and my eight year long crush on Mace Coronel, but that’s irrelevant.) Jay does prove himself throughout the rest of the season, showing that he does care about Leia and exhibiting empathy his father could never muster, but he still doesn’t feel like his own character. While Kelso habitually cheats on Jackie and then blames her for it, admits to using her for sex and money while she’s 15 and he’s 18, and hounds her into sex until she eventually gives in and says yes so he’ll leave her alone (ie: rape), Jay is genuinely kindhearted and would never do those sorts of things (or at least I hope he wouldn’t, but it wouldn’t shock me if the writers decide to ruin his character in later seasons.) Like Red says when Kitty points out that Jay is better than Michael, the bar isn’t all that high. However, Jay does prove himself to be a good boyfriend who genuinely cares about Leia (I don’t use the word love since their relationship developed so quickly and they’re so young, so it’s unlikely that it’s real love, despite the fact that they believe it is). He exhibits true selflessness throughout the series and continually puts himself in the line of fire (usually from Red) to protect Leia.

Nevertheless, good person or not, Jay doesn’t feel original. He seems to exist only to be Leia’s love interest boy toy. Jay lacks the soul I imagined him to have before watching the show. While it’s nice to see the female characters fleshed out for once, as was very lacking on T70S, the male characters lack dimension in comparison. Leia, Gwen, and Nikki, all have their own personalities, values, and ambitions, whereas Ozzie tends to be the sassy token gay friend (although let’s bffr, none of these new kids are straight, but the writers don’t want to admit it), Jay not only feels like Kelso Lite ™, but as the series progresses, him and Nate seem to morph into basically the same person. Two well intended, yet dumb horndogs who lack depth or any true personality of their own beyond being love interests for their girlfriends and comic relief. Again, I love, love, LOVE Mace Coronel, and have since seeing him on Nicky, Ricky, Dicky, and Dawn on Nickelodeon, and don’t blame him at all for the way his character is written. Now if you follow my blog, you probably already know that I absolutely adore not only Mace, but also his NRDD costar Aidan Gallagher, who I fell for after seeing him in The Umbrella Academy. However, Mace was the one I had a crush on as a child and it was very exciting to rediscover him when I first found out about T90S. While Aidan’s NRDD character Nicky Harper and TUA character Five Hargreeves share the same cunning spirit, they’re extremely different in most ways and I was incredibly excited to see Mace show this same sort of range on T90S. And I do believe that Mace has that range, but he unfortunately seems to be being typecast, considering Jay basically feels like teenage Dicky Harper in the 90s. Maybe I’m being overdramatic, but I was really hoping for more for Jay’s character and I was slightly disappointed, and I hope he gets fleshed out more and more deeply explored in later seasons.

Thanks for reading my long ass rant lmao. TLDR; I love Jay Kelso (and Mace Coronel) but hate how he was portrayed. Justice for Jay (oh, and for Serena)

Tagging my favorite T70S/T90S blogs for engagement: @thestupidhelmet @lily-267 @thatseventiesbitch @einsteinsugly @that90sshowgoldencouple

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sunnyhvnny · 1 year

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Hello. I wonder if it's possible for you to write something fluffy for the yandere Maegor x nephew?🥺

I wasn’t taking any requests but I was having severe writer's block and for some reason, I had some ideas for this.

Tw: slight manipulation (like if you squint your eyes)

No one could explain the pull that Maegor felt toward his nephew. Despite the bitterness in his mouth at the thought, his brother, Aenys, had always thought that his younger brother would try and claim one of his daughters. The father felt a sense of betrayal when he learned that his son harbored feelings for his uncle as well.

Many had expected Maegor to claim the boy and be done with it but he had only taken him under his wing for many years, pulling him closer to him, making sure that he knew that he was one of the few people he could truly rely on.

Maegor taught his nephew how to wield a sword, axe, spear, and many other weapons. While his excuse was that the boy’s father was too weak to train him, Maegor found an opportunity to have his nephew grow more dependent on him. Closer to him and to look up to him.

The more time he spent with his nephew, the more he realized that it was less about taking something from his brother and having something that was truly his. When his nephew swung his mace at his shield, a move that Maegor had seen coming, he still fell to the ground, feigning injury. It hadn’t taken long for the two men to dissolve into fits of laughter knowing that the bigger man had only faked the injury just to see a sense of pride in his nephew's eyes.

Despite what many in his family and King’s Landing believed, Maegor was reluctant to lay claim to his nephew. Maegor barely tried to contain the desire he held for the boy and the younger man had made his lust for his uncle clear. It wasn’t until Maegor was exiled to Pentos for taking a second wife that things shifted in their relationship.

His nephew had insisted on coming along. The idea of being parted from the older man was far too much than he could think to bear. Despite the fact that he wasn’t happy about his uncle taking another wife, a wife he clearly held some embers of desire for, he would not be deterred from following his uncle to the ends of the world if that was what was needed.

At first, when Maegor would spend his nights with his wife he would always make sure to visit his dear nephew afterward. He’d climb into his bed and let his nephew curl into him as he drew his large fingers up and down his sides. It was one specific evening, when the weather was clear but humid from the previous day's rain, that Maegor invited his nephew into his bed with him and his wife.

After that night, everything had changed. There were no more shy looks or coy comments. When they sparred for fun in the field, Maegor would press him into the soft grass and smother him in kisses until he was begging.

While it was exile for Maegor and his wife, his nephew had learned to see it as a paradise and hoped that it would never end. He enjoyed the days that he would pick fruit with Alys and bring it to Maegor only for his uncle to grab it and hold it out for him to take a bite while he still held it. He enjoyed the nights when his uncle would leave bite marks and bruises on his chest and hips and no one would question or bother them.

It was why he dreaded it when his grandmother and great-aunt called her son back after the death of his brother and the young man’s father. He didn’t want to return to King’s Landing where he would be looked at with hiding eyes or where he might be taken from his uncle. He knew he should feel some semblance of sadness when it came to the news of his father, but his thoughts only remained on Maegor.

His uncle kept him close to him as they arrived back. He rode back with his arms around him as they flew back on Balerion. It was a subject long forgotten when he was younger and he asked why he wasn’t allowed to have an egg or claim a dragon. His uncle had only ruffled his silver hair and told him he didn’t need a dragon, not when his uncle had one and would always be there for him.

The first few months back were hard. Maegor had taken another wife, despite his protesting and the Faith, and been able to tell the shift in his relationship with his uncle right away.

He had only received a kiss on the head and a soft command to stay within the walls of the Red Keep until his uncle returned. From the window, though, he watched as his uncle burned down the opposing members of the Faith, and those he knew specifically were against the notion of him being with his nephew.

As the years passed by, he and his uncle lived contentedly together. Jealousy would spring up when another wife would be introduced but he saw the difference in the treatment between them and him. There was pressure on them. They were made his uncle’s wives to give him children. It was unclear if he loved them, but Maegor never hid the love he so clearly held for his nephew.

There was no pressure for an heir and only pleasure in his company and after several years of barren wives and stillborn babes, his uncle had finally named his nephew as his heir. Claiming that the person he loved so dearly should be the one to wear the crown after he was gone.

#house of the dragon #hotd #Maegor Targaryen #maegor targaryen x reader #Maegor Targaryen x oc #Maegor Targaryen x male!reader #male!reader #maegor the cruel

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translucent-sun · 1 year

Text

Cody was watching Obi-Wan from across the hallway when he heard a familiar voice behind him, almost startling him to death.

“What´re you looking at?” Rex asked, watching over his shoulder.

Cody was trying to stop his heart from racing. “Nothing,” he feigned confusion.

Rex gave him a look that told him he called bullshit, positioning his own head in his line of view, attempting to see what Cody saw moments earlier. “…Ah,” was all he said when he spotted Obi-Wan, deep in conversation with another Jedi.

“What?” asked Cody, now annoyed.

Rex chuckled, patting Cody´s shoulder, their colliding pieces of armor producing a metallic clank. “Nothing.”

An hour later, everyone had gathered in the temple´s hangar. They´d been called together to get assigned to each other, commanders and captains to their generals. To their Jedi. The process hadn´t started yet. Half the Jedi weren´t even present yet, so the air was filled with chatter.

“You know he watches you too, right? Every time you´re not looking.” Rex said, not looking at Cody. Instead, Cody saw, he was watching Obi-Wan across the hangar, who was once again talking to a young Jedi.

God, that boy can´t be older than twenty, he thought, and they´re sending him to war.

“Who is?” Cody asked, unwilling to admit he knew exactly who he´s talking about – unwilling to admit that he´s looking at him.

“The one with the… hair,” Rex said, gesturing towards his own neck.

There was still loud chattering among those present – talks that started in speaking volume, voices raised as the groups grew, each trying to drown out the others to be heard.

“Stand fast,” came a shout, directed at the Clones. “Alright everyone, silence please!” Mace Windu was making himself heard across the spacious hall.

The Clones went into their assigned positions, standing at attention.

When he was sure he had everyone´s attentiveness, he continued. “After careful consideration, Master Yoda and I have concluded who we think would work best with each unit. We will assign you to each other now. Get to know each other, learn to trust each other – You will be fighting a war together.” When no one voiced any objection, he went on.

“Master Unduly, you´ll take the 41st Elite Corps under Commander Gree; Anakin Skywalker. To the 501st Legion under Captain Rex; Master Secura, the 327th Star Corps under Commander Bly.”

Everyone called upon started joining their assigned Generals and Commanders. The list went on for a while before Obi-Wan heard his own name being called.

“Master Kenobi, 212th Attack Battalion under Commander Cody.”

Cody´s head shot around to where Master Windu was speaking, seeing Obi-Wan approaching from the corner of his eye. He was striding towards him, smiling confidently, his hands clasped behind his lower back.

“Sir,” Cody exclaimed, standing at attention, unmoving, his palms pressed flat against the outside of his thighs.

Master Windu still spoke, now nothing more than a muffled background noise in Cody´s ears, drowned out by the beat of his own heart.

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Rest.” He reached out a hand, and Cody reluctantly took it. Immediately, Obi-Wan´s other hand came up to cup Cody´s, giving it a friendly squeeze. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. I suppose we´ll be spending a lot of time together from now on,” Obi-Wan said, a beaming smile lighting up his whole face.

“CC-2224, Sir, nickname´s Cody.” He didn´t know why he was nervous.

“Cody. Suits you,” Obi-Wan remarked with a grin.

#my writing #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #codywan #this sucks ass and i know it #it was one of the first bits of the story i wrote and going back to anything pre order 66 makes me cringe so hard

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mudefrau · 2 months

Text

Shell Thropp

1.7K words of me rambling ❤️ Perhaps more since I'm going to pin this and keep editing whenever I want to add something new.

Under the cut because it's long (I won't be tagging spoilers as much since this book is from 2005)

I've avoided mentioning his most problematic part but I reference it; CW for some disturbing and/or sexual themes. Do not blame me, the source material is like that!

OK so when you Ctrl+F “Emperor” with new knowledge and go back into the book, it’s a trip and a half. “The next hollow man, reeking with glory” -> The early text compares him to the scarecrow puppet governor, but at this point we’re not supposed to know who the Emperor is. Yet in retrospect, I’m enjoying the hollow/shell wordplay, it feels like a subtle hint…

His elevation to Emperor happens while Liir is doing military service in Quadling country, I don’t remember if it’s mentioned but by then Liir was over 20 I think wait no he was still a teenager according to Amazon book description?? I'm confused. it’s hard to pinpoint a date. I want to put together a timeline like I did for the first book someday… Nessa died at 34, Liir was 14-ish then (IIRC Nor is a couple years older than him), so Shell must be 34 – 5 = 29? So taking as reference Liir’s age, we can say Shell is that age + 15.

Speaking of ages, the last time Shell ever saw Elphaba he was probably… 9...?

Liir is, understandably, baffled when Trism tells him Shell is the Emperor and that he’s met him and has become very humble and gentle. But I find this radical transformation very interesting. It reminds me of Nessa, who used to hate sorcery and then became the Wicked Witch of the East. Shell, on the contrary, is the filthiest sinner (“a fornicator and a sot”), then acts like the holiest godsent, the Emperor Apostle.

Shell is very indifferent whenever asked about his sisters and their recent deaths, and often cuts to change the topic. Interestingly when Liir asks him “Was your sister a martyr”, he thinks of Nessarose first; just to say he doesn’t care because he does not have a faith.

It’s not unreasonable to think he's seen Nessa more than he's seen Elphaba… and apparently, he could not stand her (“Nessarose had so much faith that no one else in the family could breathe”. Most likely not intentional, but for someone who uses cutesy nicknames for others (Chyde-ey, Cherryvery, Liir-boy), he doesn’t shorten Nessarose to Nessa or Nessie.

I have a few hcs about Shell & Nessa, but I believe he was suave enough to have her believe he likes her and was on her side. Frex and her thought they were getting data from his espionage job. But he probably was trading back insider information about the government of Munchkinland to other parties as well.

He did not even show up to Nessa’s funeral or at least he was there only briefly (since he did send a message to Elphaba about it) but left immediately; and there were rumors he had defected, but IMO he might’ve not been fully on their side to start with.

Shell did tend to Frex after Nessa and Elphaba’s death, and the text indicates he could not even stop having hook ups then (sorry I have to point it out because I’m just amazed how he Never Stops)

In the last exchange between Elphaba and Nessa, Nessa says “I’ve just been clumsy and outspoken. Don’t expect me to remember how to be sisterly in such a short while” to which Elphaba responds “You’ve had Shell to practice on all these years” and Nessa says nothing about it. I think about that a lot and how It might’ve hurt, considering how Shell sees Nessa + the fact Elphie does not know him at all.

At some point in SoaW, after Shell is elevated to Emperor, there are broadsheets on public boards of “a male foot in an open, leather-strapped sandal stepping out of a cloud” of all the places the Emperor has set foot on in Oz. As if he’s trying to make his shoes as iconic as Nessa’s 🤔 (btw, if not metaphorical he might have a mace as well, a bit like in those emperor tarot cards. I drew him with Ozma’s staff because it seemed logical)

Can we, in general, compare Emperor Shell to Eminence Nessa? Maybe he’s an extreme version of her, theocraticness considered. Liir and Glinda actually discuss how Shell is using “piety as the new political aphrodisiac” and how Elphaba would be “outraged”, but Elphie was only slightly upset about Nessa doing similar things. I already analyzed this because that has to do with the previous book, but anyway it’s funny how little Elphaba ever cared about Shell compared to Nessa lmao (I bet this made him rage too)

There is a part in which Liir and Candle find some kind of potentially inflammatory press that says “Pieties of the Apostle. The virtue of the UGLY”. IDK if it's me not being good at English and not really getting what it all meant but I had to look up the word and does this count as a double meaning? hm

Liir explaining to some Birds: “He claims the divine right of the elect—not elected by people, but by the Unnamed God” heh unelected official (possibly not a musical reference since there are more obvious ones, but I can pretend). I feel like he could’ve taken over Colwen Grounds if he wanted (it’s implied in the first book by Elphie saying that if Nessa wanted to abdicate he could be “located to stand in”), but he didn’t, after Nessa’s death.

“He’d had those two powerful sisters; next to them he must always have felt like shredded cabbage” -> Here it is. (even if this is just Trism speculating)

The thing is, as of SoaW, we still don't know if he's pulling an act or that he actually believes God has awakened him. I suppose I’ll know in… 2 books… Also I am still a bit confused as of where he got the dragons from. It is mentioned he likely has a page of the Grimmerie “On the Administration of Dragons”, could that also be the source?

Let’s talk about pre-Emperor Shell now!!

But first let me go back into the book a bit, when Liir is in a coma and these rumors are emerging from the convent:

“The man-child was the Emperor’s confessor. He was a brigand trafficking in the sex trade. He spoke in the voice of a Loon. Except for a single rib, the man-child had broken every bone in his body.”

I would like to post an analysis on the first page of the first book about Elphaba one day, but my point is I find it fascinating that whenever there’s an Ozian rumor there’s always a little bit of basis. Yes, Liir knows Shell’s dirty laundry. Involved in sex trade, well, Shell was (as supply himself? Not sure, we’ll discuss below). Yes Liir was leading a Bird congress later on and flies, hence the Loon association. And Liir has indeed broken a lot in his body atp.

Edit: wait according to A Lion Among Men he frequented "girlie arcades" so fair to assume he also pays and when he said "I'm to be back at the Palace by midnight for fun and frolic if I can pay with the coin they require" prob he also meant that. The wiki article nota bene of "perhaps a sex addict" might be right. His motto is "one does whom one can" according to Southstair's prison undermajor.

Later, the book goes back to the moment Liir (14-16ish years old, I suppose) meets Shell. I enjoy the descriptions from his pov. The very first one is "A handsome younger man with a keen, guarded expression", of course Liir would point out he's handsome as he can appreciate masculine beauty hehe. Later, “sleek where [Elphaba] had been spiky”. He’s also taller than Elphaba, a fop, well-dressed it gets mentioned a few times (I mean look at this, I googled it verbatim. it's sexy).

I'm convinced he lives in the (now empty, since he and Liir and the only Thropps and Liir doesn't even acknowledge it) family home in Lower Mennipin Street, Emerald City, since he only went back to Munchkinland sporadically and in SOAW not at all, he does most of his business in the EC and he's not giving up a life of luxury. (cap from 1st book)

He is Liir’s guide to Southstairs, the prison. They get through a secret entrance in the Palace (reminder he’s not the Emperor yet) and go down a lot of… stairs, later they take a dory to go through a canal underground, and I get a lot of “hell” vibes here. His name was supposed to be a tribute to Turtle Heart but has “hell” in it, the rhyme even gets made in-universe. I like the imagery

I said I wouldn’t go over detailing the most problematic part, because I feel like most people know and that’s why he’s not a liked character even among those who've read SoaW (especially among those). But IMO approving =/= finding him interesting, plus he’s purely fictional and handsome so I can like him lol? So yeah, he takes advantage of women in vulnerable positions in a very disgusting way. Also if I think too much about it, I end up with quite dark implications that I do not want to think too hard about... (ok I'll say it. Are we SURE he did not give Liir any cousins because seriously- but with the fact corpses from Southstairs are later fed to dragons...oouh it's not looking good)

But I need to add how Tunkle (some prison guard Ape) warns Liir twice not to get too close to him, and how “Liir didn’t have the nerve to follow” (when Shell goes into the first cell) implies to me Shell wouldn’t have stopped him. Creepy… When Chyde suggests whether Nor was one of his “patients”, he said that she’d be too young and he has standards, good to know though 😭

Further description, “sicker than most” (by Tunkle), I’m obsessed. Most men know he's horrible (Tunkle, Chyde, Cherrystone) though they joke about it like it's not a big deal. Women, I think, might not be aware; Glinda would not have directed Liir to him like that in that case, and the family probably does not either (plus her description confirms it: "No friend of mine, but a bereaved member of her family").

Earlier when talking to Commander Cherrystone, he brags about how he got his wool jacket “bartering mostly”, Cherrystone refers to him as having a “prettier penny” to spend, hmm… Listen, the Wicked wiki lists his occupation as “spy and gigolo” but I’m having my doubts here after Southstairs, after he presents his services as some kind of reward he’s giving those (female) prisoners but it’s actually non-consensual.

Coming back to Liir. I want to think Shell has a soft spot for him, but I might be hallucinating. There are moments where he seems defensive of him, even calling him “my boy”. But he flip-flops between almost kind and “ugh, leave me alone and fend for yourself” with him. And in their second meeting (by chance at a tavern) he’s like “lmao I thought you had drowned or something” but also “you and Trism are flirting aren’t you hehe, do you want my ride to get home in a hurry?” (making both of them flustered, but sincerely helpful) so idk what to make out of it.

Anyway, by the end of their first time spent together, Liir absolutely despises him and refuses to shake his hand goodbye (he even considers biting his hand but thinks Shell would even joke about that haha). However, Liir can’t help but compare himself to him at points, “He felt as lithe and full of ginger as that cunning Shell had seemed” and “Was his skin the color of [Elphaba’s] brother Shell’s?”

Nanny goes from being fascinated by Shell’s adventures and retelling them with excitement to “you know what he’s impossible and I never really liked him” lol. I still wonder whether Frex sent him to Shiz like his other 2 children or not. If so, I bet he spent most of his study time at the Philosophy Club lmao

Speaking of Frex, Shell might be a victim of Frex's favoritism for Nessa a bit like Elphaba is- I'm not excusing Shell by any means but I'm saying he got the worst version of Frex (after Turtle Heart AND Melena's death), who must've been super depressed and secluded in religion. Perhaps Shell's libertine behavior is a big "fuck you" to him... not fully, because for sure Shell does the things he does because *he* enjoys it, but could've started as part of juvenile rebellion

I'm intrigued by his portrayal in Elphie, the book about Elphaba's childhood, since the summary refers to him as a little delinquent (“junior felon”) and I'm happy Maguire is keeping this consistent. I've seen him in fics where he's so innocent and... I guess this is also why I'm writing this, so people who don't feel like reading the second book can get a clearer idea of what he's like.

A Lion Among Men addendum: it is confirmed that the men who put the "scarecrow" in power after Glinda were likely conjuring with on the side of Shell, which he very likely burnt. Interesting that I extrapolate from this that he kinda fears Glinda lmao??!

Also apparently he hired Ms Greyling (Shiz sorcery prof) to decipher the page of the Grimmerie. Interestingly he has no inherent witchiness. And this will be backup for my headcanon that he did de facto go to Shiz hence the connection! (and he probably slept with professors because how else would he pass lmao)

OK...the dragons... self-note to talk about the dragons more in the future because trying to figure how they got there makes my head hurt right now. But it's interesting how Shell has friends in places that end up enabling him: Cherrystone, coming up with the attack in Qhoyre so that him as the Emperor has an excuse to unleash his "brand new defensive system" aka dragons. And Chyde the under-mayor of Southstairs supply the dragons with fresh corpses thanks to his "culling campaigns", which are essential to dragons' diet. The men in the Scarecrow cabinet to put him in power after it was mysteriously burned.

Trism and Shell's relationship def seems interesting in the sense that Trism wants to kill Liir for what he's triggered through a chain reaction, ending up in them both being complicit in a killing machine so to speak, but somehow exonerates Shell of everything even though he is the root cause. He praises him and says he was tender. Hmm

#shell thropp #son of a witch #gregory maguire #wicked meta #thropp siblings #long post #i edit this post often please keep checking it. peace and love

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asongofstarkandtargaryen · 1 year

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Daenerys Month Day 2- Underrated relationships and dynamics :Rhaella and Daenerys Targaryen

Queen Rhaella died giving birth to her daughter, so unfortunately Dany has no memory of her mother. All she has is Viserys' memories of her when he feels gallant enough to share them.

For a mother and daugther duo who never got to interact those two share some - tragic- similarities in their lives.

1. Abusive older brother:

In Rhaella's case, Aerys wasn't only her brother but her husband as well. That doesn't change the fact that he was first her older brother and since he always knew he would marry his little sister, he also considered her his to torment.

But whenever Aerys gave a man to the flames, Queen Rhaella would have a visitor in the night. The day he burned his mace-and-dagger Hand, Jaime and Jon Darry had stood at guard outside her bedchamber whilst the king took his pleasure. "You're hurting me," they had heard Rhaella cry through the oaken door.

Similarly, his son, Viserys, thought that his sister belonged to him not only to marry one day but also abuse as well. When he decides to marry her to Drogo, his abuse doesn’t stop.

But when she told her brother, Viserys had twisted her hair until she cried. "You are blood of the dragon," he had screamed at her. "A dragon, not some smelly fish."

Viserys slid close to Dany on her silver, dug his fingers into her leg, and said, "Please him, sweet sister, or I swear, you will see the dragon wake as it has never woken before."

2. Abusive husband:

Aerys was a worse husband than Drogo because at least the latter didn't beat his wife every time he had a fit. However, unlike what the got showrunners would like you to believe ( by calling Drogo x Dany a love story) Dany was sexually abused by her husband. The fact that she came to endure it and even have fond feelings for her husband says more about this poor girl's familization with abuse - she grew up with Viserys after all- than about Drogo's behavior.

Yet every night, some time before the dawn, Drogo would come to her tent and wake her in the dark, to ride her as relentlessly as he rode his stallion. He always took her from behind, Dothraki fashion, for which Dany was grateful; that way her lord husband could not see the tears that wet her face, and she could use her pillow to muffle her cries of pain. When he was done, he would close his eyes and begin to snore softly and Dany would lie beside him, her body bruised and sore, hurting too much for sleep.

3. Knights failed them

In folk tales and legend sagas, knights are always portrayed noble and save those in need, especially good and helpless ladies. However, Martin likes to deconstruct those tropes and most of the knights that appeared in Rhaella and Daenerys' lives failed them.

Rhaella was surrounded by the Kingsguards who were supposed to be the most fair knights in the seven kingdoms. Still none of them jumped in to save her from her abusive husband. Because their loyality was first and foremost to Aerys, the King of Westeros.

“We are sworn to protect her as well," Jaime had finally been driven to say. "We are," Darry allowed, "but not from him."

In Dany's case, on the first chapters appears a knight - Ser Jorah- who seems to have her best interest at heart and is willing to advice the young girl on various subjects. We find out much later that he was hired by King Robert Baratheon to kill her and her unborn child. While Jorah regrets the orders he got and eventually genuinely supports her, he never confesses the truth. Dany finds out second hand from Ser Barristan Selmy.

"I am dreaming," she said. "A waking dream, a walking dream. I am alone and lost."

Lost, because you lingered, in a place that you were never meant to be, murmured Ser Jorah, as softly as the wind. Alone, because you sent me from your side.

"You betrayed me. You informed on me, for gold."

At the beginning of the third parallel I said that most knights fail them. Because there are still a few exceptions. The best example is Ser Willem Darry, who was the one who rescued infant Daenerys and young Viserys from Dragonstone. When she lived for a short period with him, it was the only time Dany felt secure and happy as a child. Dany’s loyal bloodriders while not being knights also fall into that category.

4. miscarriages & stillbirths:

Mother and daughter both had difficult pregnancies that unfortunately ended tragically.

Here is what The World of Ice and Fire tells us about Rhaella on this subject:

Relations between the king and queen grew even more strained when Rhaella proved unable to give Aerys any further children. Miscarriages in 263 and 264 were followed by a stillborn daughter born in 267. Prince Daeron, born in 269, survived for only half a year. Then came another stillbirth in 270, another miscarriage in 271, and Prince Aegon, born two turns premature in 272, dead in 273.

As for poor Dany, her son with Drogo, Rhaego, is stillborn. A couple of years later, she suffers a miscarriage - of a pregnancy she wasn’t aware of- as she rides Drogon.

5. Protector of the weak

Rhaella and Dany know what it feels like to be afraid for your life and in constant pain. And they both step in to protect people they consider their responsibility from being abused.

Rhaella dismissed plenty of her ladies in order to protect them from her husband

Sadly, the marriage between Aerys II Targaryen and his sister, Rhaella, was not as happy; though she turned a blind eye to most of the king's infidelities, the queen did not approve of his "turning my ladies into his whores." (Joanna Lannister was not the first lady to be dismissed abruptly from Her Grace's service, nor was she the last).

As for Dany, we need to look not further from all those people she can liberated who lovingly call her “Mhysa” aka Mother.

#danymonth2022 #canondany #daenerys targaryen #rhaella targaryen #house targaryen #rhaella and daenerys

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meshlasolus · 2 years

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Obi and I

Part 1 of the Obi and Little One Miniseries

Summary: You are not as well versed in the Grammar of galactic basic as you would think your are, and Obi-Wan playfully teaches you to make the small corrections.

Warnings: there will probably never be warnings in these that are actual warnings it’s all just so fluffy and sweet-

A/n: i am getting back into my groove for them, and dude- i finished HoM not even a month ago but i missed them so much I’m just glad to be back and writing for them (btw this is an actual memory from my DR, some parts are written differently for the sake of I cannot remember the entire event as it happened… but like cmon gimme credit i was six)

It had been a rough day. Standing at the age of six and a half, it was very intimidating to join the class of nine year old younglings in the temple. You would have been fine to go about the training session with Master Yoda, but in between the lessons, there were break times that socialization was allowed while Yoda spoke with whomever had come for his attention and wisdom. Why was this such a conundrum? Well, said nine year old younglings were not fond of having a younger classmate among them, rather, a younger classmate who’s power outweighs their own. Children, as funny as it would seem, are more prone to dark side tendencies than fully grown adult Jedi. Children had innocence, but they also lacked knowledge of right from wrong, or more importantly, the difference between them.

You didn’t understand it, the instant and sad way they shunned you from the start. It wasn’t your fault, you had done no wrong, and you tried to be friends. You’d been shoved to the ground and belittled, before being laughed at and embarrassed. Your anger and humiliation bubbled to the surface, just as Master Yoda and Mace Windu were coming to examine the class. You couldn’t help it, you stood to your feet and used the force to knock one boy into another, letting them all fall over like dominos. Mace Windu saw the smile you wore after it, and had mistranslated it as being one of malicious intent. You’d been reprimanded soon after, and taken for a time out in the hallway, a random Padawan was assigned to watch over you until the council was done deciding what to do with your behavior.

You were scared, but the second you saw a familiar face walking down the hallway to greet you, the fear began the melt away, and it was replaced with joy and excitement.

“Obi!” You jumped from your cross legged position against the wall, and ran straight into his legs, grabbing onto them tightly to keep him from continuing down the hallway. “I knew you’d come to see me.”

“Hello, little one,” he beamed, not expecting to run into your excited little self, but glad he did all the same. In truth he hadn’t been looking for you, but he hadn’t spent any time with you since he returned from the last mission dispute with Qui-Gon. “What are you doing all the way in the council sector, I thought you were starting new lessons today?”

You reached up and shook your arms slightly, and he took the hint, rolling his eyes as he bent down and scooped you up, bringing you to eye level and waiting for your answer. Though you were small, you were still just as intelligent as a child much older than yourself. You liked being able to look someone straight in the face when you spoke to them, it made you feel dignified, like an adult. Obi-Wan never minded, he thought it was sweet that you wanted to hold a proper conversation like that.

“The other younglings in the class were being mean to me, Obi.”

“I see, did you tell Master Yoda?”

The look in your eyes faded and you shook your head to tell him that you didn’t. He sighed, brushing some hair away from your forehead and out of your eyes. Your wild mane was never tamed, and he wondered why the Masters who took care of you would never tie it back to help you. Perhaps he’d do it once and see if it helped you.

“Why don’t we talk to him together? You can explain to him what happened,” he suggested, but again your head shook back and forth, your eyes widening and telling him you were probably scared to do so. “Why not?”

“Because he and Master Windu think I was the one being mean.”

Well, now he was confused. How had this mix up even happened? He wondered the contents of the situation but feared to ask you about them, thinking that perhaps it could make you sad or angry. He decided to take a different approach.

“Were you being mean to the other younglings?” He asked quizzically, and your dramatic heave of a breath began your telling of events.

“No, I was trying to make them stop laughing at me,” you left out the part where you knocked them all to the ground, because your dear friend Obi-Wan, though much older and wiser than you, did not need to have all the intricate details.

He knew you’d probably let your anger get the better of you, and you must have reacted badly to the teasing of the older children. He was never sure why they had moved you from your old class anyways. You had been doing so well where you were. Sure, you were far passed the teachings that the others your age were receiving, but they could have arranged a different lesson plan for you, instead of putting you somewhere that you didn’t belong. Obi-Wan in his mind was betting on only a few weeks until they put you back in the class you needed to be in.

“Little one, we must not repay wrong doings with wrong doings. Whatever happened, you must continue to show the light of a Jedi, and hope that they can learn from your example,” he sighed, realizing that even over all this nonsense, you were still a child, and your heightened mind did not change the fact that you were young and sometimes lacked the self control needed. “Treat them as you would treat yourself, and maybe they will begin to return that kindness.”

You nodded like you understood, but it was still such a wild concept for you to take in. Why should you treat those that hurt you with respect? Why should you be kind to them when all they have done is humiliate you? They deserved what they got, and you weren’t sorry, but you needed to be, and that’s what you couldn’t comprehend.

“What if they push me down again?”

Obi-Wan frowned.

“They pushed you down? What for?” He was beginning to think that you were only defending yourself now, as it seemed there was more to the story than he originally gathered. He should have just asked you what happened in the first place.

“I tried to stand next to them in our break time, I don’t think they liked me very much at all,” your explanation was heartbreaking. You were only trying to make friends, even though it must have been intimidating and they were all a few years older than you, you still were brave enough to try, and they were only cruel to you. Obi-Wan absolutely would not stand for that.

The council meeting had adjourned, and out poured the members of the committee, strolling through the hallway and leaving Master Windu to deal with the very person they had discussed, you.

“Padawan Kenobi, I did not expect to see you here,” the tall man spoke, coming closer to inspect the scene before him. Qui Gin Jinn was a Jedi Master, infamous for having attachments that shouldn’t be allowed, but seeing as he was a brilliant fighter and a strong and wise man, the council would never have enough grounds to expel him, nor would they want to. Master Windu however found it unnecessary that he teach his Padawan to do the same. It was all too fond, the way Kenobi treated you, with his favoritism and protection, even when you may not deserve it. Just as right this moment, you were supposed to be punished, not coddled, and Obi-Wan was doing just that.

“I didn’t think I would be still, but I noticed she was here and wondered what was wrong?” He asked indirectly to the Jedi Master, his brow furrowing as if he was confused and you hadn’t just told him the story.

“I’m afraid she’s done some things today that have put her in the wrong. We were just discussing what form of discipline to issue for her actions.”

Just as you had explained, accept for Obi-Wan believed you over Master Windu, however young you were, he knew you’d never lied to him in the last few years he’d known you. Being the first person to ever truly treat you with kindness and respect as a human being, and not as a slave, you quickly formed a bond with him, and felt as though you could open up and tell him things, completely in an honest sense.

“I hope the punishment doesn’t last long, we were only just discussing my promise to show her the meditation room, weren’t we?” He looked to you, and though you were surprised, you looked back to Master Windu and nodded rapidly with a smile. Master Windu could admit, when Kenobi was around you, you were far more tame and in control. Perhaps a form of reprimanding wouldn’t be necessary just this once, and hopefully spending more time with Kenobi will make you a better behaved child. “And I am a man of my word.”

Mace sighed, looking down to the ground before back to Kenobi with a look that said ‘this is the only time I’ll look the other way.’

“The meditation rooms are a good place to learn peace, perhaps you should introduce her to the concept,” Mace said, as if it were a warning, then turned heel, walking away with a slouched posture. It had been a long day for the Grand Master.

You waited for him to be out of the hallway before you hugged Obi-Wan extra tight around the neck, squealing like a shriek hawk in his ear. He leaned away with a small chuckle, too relieved at the small victory to be annoyed by your loud, shrill voice.

“That was a close one!” You whisper shouted, and he nodded, turning back to you, and shaking his head. He didn’t know why he put himself on the line like that for a kid sometimes, but then he saw your giddy smile, and he understood. You needed him as your protector, because no one else would take the job. You trusted him, and being a man of his word, he would never want to betray that trust, even if you were only six and a half.

“Indeed it was, little one.”

You were very calm now, walking the halls alongside Obi-Wan, head held high in the air with a pleasant and sophisticated look on your face as you passed through the halls to find your youngling group in the common area. He would look down and smile every few minutes at how mature you were trying to act. He supposed it was because of your massive success in the meditation room, where you were finally able to let your mind fill the room, and you could be one with your surroundings. He was proud to have been there when you figured it out, feeling even the tiniest shred of joy that he was somewhat able to help you achieve that state of mind. It was the first time he was able to really feel your signature as a developed, personal force. You were always strongly connected with it, the force, but never did you have your own identity through it, and he thinks that perhaps today, you may have achieved it.

The soft green embers of the waves in your signature, emanating off of you even now, told him what he knew to be true long ago. You were a consular. Strong with the force, and wise beyond what wisdom can be. You were powerful already, and were going to grow to be even more-so by the time you reached the age of padawancy.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when walking into the large room, spotting your group. You’d stopped in your tracks and kept hold of his hand, telling him without words that you didn’t want to go any further. He understood, as he followed your line of sight to see the younglings, all conversing together, exchanging different gestures the likes of which you were not made aware of. Obi-Wan sighed, looking down to you and kneeling to meet your eyes.

“I’m sure you don’t have to go back right away,” he mentioned, and you looked at him with a frightened look in your eye, which was slowly melting away as he spoke to you. You seemed to be rather calmed by his voice. “Come sit with my Master and I.”

The way your face immediately lit up, and your sense of sophistication returned, with your head nodding once before taking his hand again and following him to where his Master was, it made Obi-Wan happy, simply just because you were happy.

Going to sit down in a chair that was far too big for you, you heaved yourself over the front of it, scooting back into the backrest and making yourself comfortable, your legs barely hanging off the end of the seat. Master Qui Gon turned his attention from his holo-pad, an amused smile crawling across his face as he crossed his arms in the direction of his Padawan, who had to help nudge to the last of the way into your seat, after which he took his own seat right beside you.

“What do we have here?” Qui Gon chuckled, and you looked to him with that cheesy sophisticated smile, folding your hands and holding them over your lap ass if you were an adult.

“Me and Obi went to the meditation room today,” you said matter of factly, and both men chuckled, the younger of the two leaning closer to you and helping your grammar.

“Obi and I, little one,” he reminded you, but you were not bothered by it, continuing on to tell your story while Qui Gon listened on and asked questions with great interest.

“Well we did, and,-and” you stuttered a bit in your excitement, and they both found it very endearing. “I meditated, for real.”

“Did you now?” The Jedi Master turned to his own apprentice, and raised a brow, surprised.

“She did, I felt her energy reaching out.”

Qui Gon was not only happy for you, but proud of Obi-Wan, for being a good mentor to you, and even at your age, a good friend. From what he understood, you were treated as rather more of an asset than a human being, and whenever you did something to act like a human, they weren’t exactly accepting of it. He was glad you had someone you could trust, someone you could talk to, because he doubted you would open up to anyone else to allow them your thoughts.

“I really did! And then me and Obi came here to tell you,” you informed him, and the Master nodded his head, though he was ready to look over the small mistake in your speech, his padawan was not the same, leaning closer again to tell you.

“Obi and I,” he said this time, but in a quicker manner, almost as if to poke fun at you. You turned to him and reached your hand up, putting your sweaty little palm over the entirety of his mouth.

“Shhh,” you told him impatiently, and turned back to Qui Gon to finish your story. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but laugh, and it took everything in his Master not to do the same. He would say there was never a dull moment having Kenobi as his Padawan, constantly cracking jokes, being witty and sarcastic and all the things that made up his personality. He was sometimes rather arrogant, but as of lately, and having you around to put him in his place, he seemed to be mellowing out.

By the time you were finished with your story, and Qui Gon had learned about all the events of the day, it was at last the time when you would need to return to your group. He bid you a farewell and Obi-Wan walked you back to your group, your quick little steps trying to keep up with Obi-Wan’s even stride as you always did when reaching up to hold his hand.

When Obi-Wan returned, his Master shook his head, standing up and beginning to walk with the young man towards the halls, ready to retire to their apartment for the evening.

“You shouldn’t tease her like that,” he somewhat scolded his student, but leaving it open ended enough that it wasn’t a real reproach. “She looks up to you, you may as well be her greatest admiration.”

“You used to tease me the same way,” Obi-Wan countered, and knowing that Qui Gon was his greatest admiration, he seemed to think it perfectly fair.

“She’s six,” Qui Gon told him, turning to see the souring expression of Kenobi’s face. “She may not understand, and think you’re really making fun of her.”

“I don’t think so, she’s quite brilliant for her age.”

“Even still. If you want to be her Master one day, you must think about your approaches to teaching her. You’re nearing the completion of your own training, you know,” it was the first time it had been brought up among them, but in the past, they both had been feeling their several years of long spent time coming to and end, one way or another. If Obi-Wan was going to be a Jedi Knight soon, then that would mean separating himself from his own Master, to form an identity of his own, perhaps one as your Master.

“I understand. You must forgive me, Master. It’s not my place to disagree with you.”

Qui Gon was a gentle and compassionate man, built for many great endeavors, and most of all being a Jedi. He was wise and strong, and there had never been another person in the galaxy that Obi-Wan would have picked to be his Master over the one he had. He only hoped that in the future, he could do enough right by you that you could feel the same way.

tags:

@cool-h-posts @honestlywtfisgoingon

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan x padawan #ewan mcgregor #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader

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