I gotta stop pairing almost every Targaryen with a Stark, its not healthy for me. First Robb/Dany and Dany/Sansa, then it was Aegon the Conqueror/Torrhen Stark and Rhaenyra/Rickon Stark(father of Cregan. Now its pairings that make no sense, but only because I think that Tragic Targ needs a Stark! Maegor the Cruel/Jon Snow, Naerys/Stark character, Daena/Stark character, and Aerion/William Stark (Ned Stark's father's grandfather aka Neds great grandfather)!
I need to chill.. I cant keep pairing the Starks and the Targaryens!
Fandoms: MCU
Characters: William Stark-Potts (OC), Tony Stark
Universe: Post-Canon
Summary: William collides with a member of the rival soccer team, cutting his game short.
Will can’t keep his eyes steady. His hand sways with his hand, barely able to keep the ice pack in place. The nurse hovers around him, either testing his pupi’s or catching the ice before it falls.
“You hit Aronson pretty hard, there, pal,” she says. “All signs point to concussion. You should sit the rest of the game out, and if nausea persists, we’re gonna have to bring you to a real office.”
“’M fine, really,” Will insists from where he perched on his soccer ball. He adds a shrug in for good measure while squinting up at the medic and silently wishing the layer of clouds weren’t so thin today. Why must the sun be so penetratingly bright? “I’n go in right now” He frowns at the slip of tongue. “Can. I can go in.”
The medic answers him with a flash of a flat smile before proceeding to attend to the other player. In the time it takes for Will to duck his head, another body fills in the space before him.
Fandom: MCU
Characters: William Stark-Potts (OC), Peter Parker, Original Gunmen
Universe: Post-Canon
Summary: A pitstop at a Queens’ supermarket proves to be a dangerous endeavour as William is held hostage by a gang of robbers. (tw: gunshots, threatening to kill)
Tag: @whumptober2020
William wanted a chocolate bar. What Will ended up with was a gun in his face.
A particularly stressful day of college had brought Will from Manhattan to Queens in pursuit of a friendly face. Mom and Dad were both upstate, and Morgan was cross country, following her dreams at C.I.T. The closest relation he had would be the Parkers: one simple train ride over.
Peter told Will to head straight inside his apartment, but Will saw the grocery store and felt an overwhelming urge to score something sweet. After all, a stressful day was a mighty fine occasion to score something sweet enough to take his mind off matters.
Things were going swimmingly until he got in line. Not ten seconds after joining the queue, someone behind him shouted “GUN!” Will snapped his head up from his phone to catch everyone else’s bodies dropping to the floor. He heard a scream, a rush of gasps, and the click of a gun’s safety, and Will dropped to a crouch, too.
“No one move!” the man in black boomed. But Will, with his phone still on, opted to defy that order. As discretely as he could manage, he opened the phone app and tapped in 9-1-1. He only tapped two digits before a more direct bark sounded. “You, there! Kid! Give me the phone!”
His blood turned to ice; his heart thumped madly to thaw it. Will glanced up to see the gunman far closer than imagined. The device was ripped from his hands, cast down the cereal aisle, and shot. Two fires caused two jumps from Will (and by a brief look at the other hostages, them as well).
“Think you’re gonna outsmart me?” the man sneered, grabbing Will by the collar and hoisting him up. Staying quiet seemed his best option, but Will was merely hoisted up further and spat in the face: “Didj’you?!”
“Well...” trailed Will, thinking of a snarky comeback but holding himself off in case it made the situation worse.
“Well, what?!” The man waved the gun through the air before training the open end on Will’s forehead. He thickly swallowed, trying (and failing) not to scrunch his face in anticipation. Fearful anticipation. He had to say something, or risk being shot pointblank.
“Well, if you knew who my dad was,” he finished. If he weren’t facing death in the eye, his smirk might have been convincing. Will wouldn’t deny how satisfying it was to play the ‘my father will hear about this’ card. However, the comment caught the gunman off guard; his brow furrowed.
“Put the scrawny kid down,” ordered a smoother voice. Fifteen paces or so behind the gunman, Will spotted a glimpse of red and dark blue.
He was spun around by the gunman’s grip, still tight on his shirt, to be the shield of the gunman’s. Gun to his temple, Will blinked profusely to contain any urge to burst into tears. Not only was Spider-Man blocking the exit, but that was cousin Peter!
You must protect him. They killed him. They killed my Ray. They will kill my William. Protect him. Promise me, Rickard. Please.
Rickard didn't want to consider it. He didn't want to believe that his brother by marriage had been murdered. Could he have been? Who killed him? And why?
He put his head into his hands from where he sat in Eira's favorite spot beside the water. This spot was a frequent place where he or their father would find Eira everyday, praying to the Godswood for a good and thoughtful husband. Eira had been a romantic, looking for happiness in a marriage. Rickard had been told from a young age that he would be married for politics and thus was more realistic than his naive sister.
But then Ray showed up.
It had been a snowy day when he stumbled up to them. He and Eira had been throwing snowballs at each other, and he had been on his knees making one when he heard her gasp. He looked up and glanced where she was looking to see a man of tan hair and dark clothes covered in dirt and blood. He watched as Eira ran to the man looking more concerned than intimidated. He wondered what she had been thinking at the time, racing toward an unfamiliar man without fear of injury. That was how his sister was, more concerned for others than herself. The man had tripped and fallen straight into her open arms. While she yelled for their father, begging for help, Rickard had watched the man's face. He hadn't look that old; maybe ten or so summers older than him. The man looked almost glad to be in his sister’s arms having gone from pained eyes to closed; not from having passed out though. Rickard recognized relief in the man’s gaze as his eyes closed. At the time, he had truly wondered if the man had been sent to Eira from the Old Gods to be that good and kind husband; and he was for the blissful years afterward.
Now he wished Ray had never found his way to Winterfell if it would have saved his sister.
This is a deleted scene of Chapter 1 of my got fanfiction: Lion Wolf: https://www.wattpad.com/1260609096?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create_writer&wp_uname=brimlad
If you would like to see the full chapters on Tumblr, please let me know in the comments.
Read Chapter One | A Mother's Death from the story Lion Wolf | ashara dayne by brimlad (Brimlad) with 3,726 reads. game...
