"You're different." "Different?" "A good different."

"I, Percival Lannister," her breath hitches in her throat, face slacking as she realises what he's doing, "hereby pledge to you, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen," an unknown emotion flares in her chest, searingly euphoric when he says her name, "rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains, my undying fielty and faith." A loud screech is heard overhead, fire touching the sea through the dragon's breath. His eyes intensify on hers, gaze piercing as his breathing becomes ragged. "Till the end of my days." Game of Thrones: 6x10 - 8x6 Daenerys Targaryen X Male OC Percival Lannister series

"𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙐𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙮 𝙮𝙖 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙊𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙐𝙣𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙄 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙮 𝙮𝙖 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 (𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩)..." > 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 - 𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘚𝘸𝘢𝘦 𝘓𝘦𝘦 . . . 𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧: The Descendants series, characters, and images aren't mine-just my own original characters I created for this story. Some scenes and dialogue may be different from the movies. Images are from Pinterest! {𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝟏-𝟑}🌻

[catching fire] i'm gonna kill you, if you don't beat me to it. cover art by the beautifully talented @obviousoph

[Wednesday x Male Reader] Twelve years before Wednesday got sent to Nevermore, she met a boy just like her, who understands her, the only one who could love her.

Cursed from birth with a power that could shatter armies, you were never meant to be ordinary. The legacy of your heritage was a silent plague, an inheritance of chaos that clung to your soul long before you understood its weight. ____ The Cannery burned, and he woke up in the ashes. There was no grieving, no longing because there was nothing to remember. Who he was died that night, and he never even knew it. For seven years, his past was a void, swallowed whole by the streets that raised him. Mono was all he had ever been. 𝕄𝕆ℕ𝕆. A name given to fill the silence. A ghost bound to the undercity's war, watching, hunting, vanishing. He never thought to question it. Until the echoes began. He had a life before this one. A brother. A family. A name. Y/N. But the past isn't the only thing clawing at him. He is the last remaining descendant in Runeterra of something ancient, something patient. A will that does not command, only whispers. A mind that has seen the rise and fall of empires, waiting for the right vessel to shape the world once more. The Shadow Mind has always been watching. Always waiting. And now, as Mono's past resurfaces and his choices slip from his hands, it waits for him to fall. The past is calling. The future is waiting. Will the echoes of either ever stop?

❝𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞? ❞ 𝘋𝘐𝘚𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘐𝘔𝘌𝘙!: 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺! 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴. 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺! 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 @DrakeCross22 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮.

-𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐘 ᵇᵉᵗʰ ᵍʳᵉᵉⁿᵉ , ᶜʸⁿᵈⁱᵉ "𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙." -How the oldest Grimes son gains feeling in the middle of a life threatening apocalypse. (...bethxmale!oc) (...cydniexmale!oc) (...s2-s11)

"You may crawl back to your mother but you will never reach the comfort and confines of her womb again." District 1 was in terms the most luxurious. They had enough to eat, drink, and survive off of. Though, it was just that. Enough. Barely Enough. If they wanted to keep barely enough, they'd fight and win and have as many victors as they needed to have just enough. Atropos Durand, reaped for the sixty-ninth hunger games. A victim of the Capitol, she will fight to the death with twenty-three others just to survive and bring honor to her family and District. District 1 had yet to give a victor in two or three years, and Atropos was not in anyone's hopes to be a victor, she'd been expected to be yet another victim in Coriolanus Snow's games; and yet, against all odds, she stood, bloody and bruised. Atropos was a Victor, and she'd bare her teeth at anyone who would dare try to instill fear into her. "If I was easy to kill, you would've done it already."