#mazzian writing

[mmazzeroo]

This is an attempt to hold myself accountable for my writing; not necessarily to write more but to actually write on my wip’s be it a word, a sentence or 1k. A small step is better than no step at all, right? 

So, this is from the overdue second part of the birthday fic I wrote for my good friend, Val <3 The fic turned out to become much longer than I’d planned...yeah I’m a total pants’er.

The fic is titled ‘Safest Place To Hide’ and is a fluffy story evolving around Author!Dany and Former-childhood-actor-turned-soldier!Jon.

Here’s a (spoiler-free) snippet for anyone interested:

“... This morning, however, smelled like a mix between burned toast and wet dog, and sounded like no other morning Dany had ever experienced.

She was almost certain she’d identified the repetitive thunks as a tennis-ball being dropped on the wooden floor, and the scratching noises could be nails of doggo feet setting off to catch said ball. In other words, Jon was probably playing fetch with the dogs.

”You’re alright over there, buddy?”

Dany didn’t catch any response but maybe only one of the dogs were playing with Jon?

”Hey, I got wet too remember? At least you get to warm yourself by the fire. I’m walking around here barefoot and wet hair still trying to fix some food.”

More thunking noises.

”Besides,” more rapid nail scratching on the wooden floor, ”he’s your brother. He just got a little excited, give him a break.”

No response.

”Let’s be happy it wasn’t worse.”

A dog huffed in offence and now Dany knew exactly who the wet husky was.

”Fine. Suit yourself, sourpuss.”

Dany giggled to herself under the thick covers. There was something endearing about Jon ‘conversing’ with Ghost. She had to admit that Jon was right though - Ghost could be such a drama-queen. “

--

Should one of my mutuals or any of my five readers feel the inclination you’re welcome to send me an ask containing threats or treats if I managed to do some writing on any of my wip’s. None of my fics are or will be abandoned it’s just....stuff happened and I’m trying to get back in a writing groove, so any support / encouragement / cheerleading or possible warnings and threats might help the process along. Thanks <3

Banner by @ao3commentoftheday​ - original post

[mazzianwritings]

Time Doesn’t Heal All Wounds

When I was 17 I went to my first ever live concert. It was an annual charity thingy - a recurring series of one-day music festivals touring around the country for about two weeks, mostly only names that are well-known in our little corner of the world - it’s arranged by, and all surplus goes to, a charity for suffers of muscular dystrophy; been successfully doing so for about 30 years now.

Usually lots of good fun - or so I’ve been told. I have no memory of the event. Not because I was drunk or high or anything thing like that, but because the world as I knew it had ended the day prior - on July 10th to be specific. I’ve disliked that date ever since.

It was a warm, beautiful summer’s day. I’d spent it together with one of my elder sisters and my little niece; being spoiled rotten and loving it. My sister bought me a pair of shoes much more expensive than my mom would’ve allowed if she’d been there. Years later I still have the shoes. They’re heavier than any other pair I own, and I’d wear them to literally feel grounded - sometimes simply to be able to feel myself at all.

I remember my mom calling in the evening with the news. After that my memory is blank for several months. My world simply went dark.

My cousin had passed away. She’d collapsed at home on the kitchen floor. 17 years old. Gone. She was my best friend or as close as I got to having one, and now I didn’t know where to turn.

Later examinations showed that there was an infection on her heart and no one knew or suspected anything.

At the time it was for some reason very important to me that she’d died exactly seven weeks before her 18th birthday. When New Year’s rolled around I began counting down to my own. Death, not birthday. Nothing happened though, so I thought perhaps it would be seven days instead. Still nothing happened. My 18th birthday came and went with me playing nice, smiling and thanking for each gift I received. In truth all I wanted to do was curl up in a corner, cry my heart out and be left alone. The big birthday officially marking my entrance to adulthood and I was numb to it all. I didn’t want it. None of it. My life meant nothing to me. I was just here taking up space and oxygen. I’d given up.

Years later I’m still fighting to put my pieces back together. Clawing my way out of the endless pit of despair. Sometimes I’m full of hope - remembering to stop and notice the rainbow on the rainy days, listen to the laughter of children playing in the puddles - other times I completely isolate myself from the world and hope everyone forgets about me.

Family gatherings still hurt. We’re a big family - my grandmother was the mother of ten who in turn gave her plenty of grandchildren. Four of us - born within a span of about 18 months - were thick as thieves growing up. If you found one you’d be sure to find the other three nearby.

Yet, losing one completely ripped us apart. At any kind of family gathering the three of us manage to never show up at the same event - max two, usually only one. We don’t keep in touch with each other. Not even sporadic emails or social media. Nothing. The cut’s too deep, the pain too much to bear. I can count on one hand the number of times the three of us have been together since, and it’s clear we all think something - someone - is missing. My cousins’ eyes still hold a shadow of something haunted; displaying the same emptiness I feel within myself.

I see my other siblings with cousins their age laughing, joking and playing games like they’ve always done. It breaks my heart realising that I didn’t lose only one cousin, one friend that fateful day years ago - but three. Truthfully I miss them. I’d like to think we all miss each other, and that we’ll someday manage to sit down and share our memories of the one we lost. Share stories through tears and laughter. I think that’s how she would’ve wanted us to remember her - but time doesn’t heal all wounds.

[mmazzeroo]

Whispers of Freedom - ch. 3

Chapter 3: A Wise Wolf Hides His Fangs

Time for us to meet Ashara - professor, mother, wife.

Later we check in with our fav kiddos in Meereen where Jon finds himself in a bit of trouble.

Read all of it on AO3

—

Thanks to @helloimnotawesome for polishing this chapter for me - and for the beautiful moodboard ❤️ You’re such a good sis. Yes you are!

Thanks to @callmedewitt for helping me work through various bits ❤️

and for no particular reason other than her simply being awesome - @tomakeitbeautifultolive there’s a bit of lemon for you 😏🍋

[mmazzeroo]

Ch. 2: This is the Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

Hey! So, Whispers of Freedom, chapter 2 took a bit longer to get to than intended, but it’s finally here!  Once again thanks to my sis @helloimnotawesome for giving this a thorough read-through and making the beautiful mood board. Love ya, sis <3 <3 <3

Whispers of Freedom, ch. 2: This is the Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship

“The castle was quiet. Outside, a storm brewed. In the distance, faint calls of an eagle could be heard. Inside, the fire in the hearth bathed the room in a soft golden light. Between the bed and the fireplace, positioned in a large plush chair, the eldest member of the Targaryen clan sat watch.

The old Maester was pondering the day’s events. Not the Prince’s funeral; that had been as subdued as expected. No, it was what had occurred afterwards that occupied his mind. If what he suspected had happened was true, then he still couldn’t quite believe it himself.

They’d all heard Stormcloud’s mournful screech and rushed outside to see what was happening. By then, the dragon had already taken to the skies again, doing rounds of desperate loops high up in the air.”

Rest it all on AO3. Enjoy!

[mmazzeroo]

Teaser Time - Whispers of Freedom

Chapter 3: A Wise Wolf Hides His Fangs

Citrus Fruit Smut Scale: Lemon 🍋😏😎

-----

As soon as Ashara stepped into the iron-gated school yard, a little wild-haired girl came flying out the door, running as fast as her little legs could carry her, backpack bouncing on her back with each step.

“Mama!” With a big grin plastered on her dirt-covered face, Arya jumped into her Mama’s loving embrace, receiving a big wet kiss on her soft cheek.

“Did you have fun today, honeybun?” Ash asked as they walked to the car parked just outside the gates.

Nodding eagerly, Arya shrugged the backpack off her shoulders and shoved it onto the backseat.

“We invented a new game today!” She said enthusiastically as she climbed into the backseat.

Ashara helped buckle her into the racing-car style harness. “Hold that thought, love.”

With a quick peck on her daughter’s temple, she closed the door, walked round the back of the car, got into the driver’s seat, and cruised into more rush-hour traffic for the short ride home.

“Ok, sweetheart, tell me about this new game of yours.” Smiling, she cast a quick glance in the rear-view mirror catching Arya’s beaming eyes, bracing herself for the upcoming daredevil story.

***

Ashara was panting, blood rushing in her ears, sight blurry from desire. Pressing her thighs tightly together was no longer enough to relieve the pressure building in her core. She could feel herself practically leaking, her juices coating her skin.

With nothing but a few words and a kiss, her wolf mate had already worked her up, leaving her hanging on the edge. Gods, Lya knew by heart exactly how to play her after a decade and a half of learning every ins and outs of her body and mind. It felt so good to be strung out like a wire and when it snapped...oh, when it snapped, the relief was delivered with an earth-shattering force only a wolf could provide.

She finally found the strength to speak again. “I need you,” she panted.

“I’m right here, love.” Gods, those hungry eyes staring back at her, reading her every thought.

“I need you, my wolf.”

“Always so impatient,” Lya chuckled, “I was only gone for a  week.”

“A month, a week or a day, it doesn’t matter – it isn’t the time, it’s the distance,” she replied in a voice weak with yearning.

***

When they arrived in Meereen he and Dany had had their faces glued to their plane windows. It was a magnificent city to look at. The pyramids were a sight to behold, from above the entire city looked like an explosion of colours. The Great Pyramid in the middle of it with the giant golden figure of a harpy on top was truly a wonder. However, the great number of arenas spread throughout the city confused Jon so he’d asked Uncle Oberyn about them.

“They’re fighting pits. They draw hundreds of thousands in every week.”

“All of them?” Jon looked between the window and Oberyn sitting next to him, “don’t they have any other sports?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, little wolf, but they really like their fighting over here in Slaver’s Bay.”

A fact Jon was currently learning first hand.

-----

Out later this weekend - stay tuned

[mmazzeroo]

Heartstrings, chapter 22:

DANY IV - It’s A Little Dragonwolf

I'm so very sorry for the long wait. OMG! Oh well, I guess this is a gift that just keeps on giving, right? Haha..ha.. *hangs head in shame*

Anyway, @helloimnotawesome, I know you're not feeling well at the moment so I hope this can maybe provide you a little bit of a respite. Much love!!! 

Without further ado: 

---

"Happy nameday, Jon," Theon uttered quietly, a trembling hand holding out a large, rolled up sheet of paper, held together with a bit of red string.

Like a timid animal, Theon had carefully approached her and Jon as the two of them sat snuggled up together on a bench in the lemon grove. My absolute favourite part of the garden. Smells like home - and next to Jon it feels like it too.

Dany was sure the festivities were still unfolding in the dining hall. Everyone knew Jon needed occasional breaks from social gatherings, so no one in the family batted an eye when the two of them went for an evening stroll in the garden.

This, however, felt like a moment between Jon and Theon so she moved to get up and give them their space.

"No."

The urgency in his voice caused both her and Jon to look up.

Theon took half a step to the side before stopping himself, immediately casting his eyes downwards and instead taking a large step backwards. As if frozen in place he kept is head down, eyes fixed on a spot somewhere near his feet. He looks like a beaten dog that just remembered defending itself would only ensure more beating.

Viserys had warned them that Theon might not ever behave 'proper' human-like again. 'Might' being the most hopeful projection. It was like saying there might be world peace one day. It made Dany's blood boil with rage and simultaneously shattered her heart in a thousand pieces.

She still clearly remembered what state Jon had been in. He'd been all hurt, anger and outright rage. 'It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog.' At the moment she couldn't remember where the quote was from but it sounded like something President Tyrell could've said. Jon would rather die fighting than not fight at all, but Theon..sweet Theon..had no fight left in him.

As a vet Dany had seen her fair share of neglected and abused animals. One thing they all had in common was how well they'd responded to some good old TLC - tender loving care - and she refused to believe that Theon's heart, mind and soul couldn't be mended, at least in part, by the same. 'You don't throw a whole life away just because he's banged up a little' - her husband's words still ringing in her mind years after he spoke them by the campfire on Dragonstone. My love, how I loved your big heart and your ability to see the best in everyone.

"Theon?" She spoke as softly as she knew how to, "please look at me, sweetheart."

He slowly looked up, staring back at her with dark frightened eyes. A deer caught in the headlights.

Dany gave him a warm, reassuring smile. "Would you like me to stay while you talk to Jon?"

A barely noticeable nod was the only response given.

"Ok, I'll stay. Thank you."

She sat back on the bench, leaning her head against Jon's shoulder who in turn gave her hand a light squeeze as they shared a small smile. Now all they could do was wait. They needed to let Theon control the speed of things.

As they sat quietly, patiently waiting for their broken friend to make a move she carefully watched Theon's face. It was clear his mind was racing. His face stoic, but those dark eyes of his were swimming with emotions. He looked as if he was on the brink of bolting, yet deep-seated fears from all the years of abuse kept him frozen in place. Dany had noticed how his eyes had gradually become more expressive over the course of the year he'd been living with them at Starfall. No longer the deep dark pits of emptiness; they were slowly beginning to show a little flicker of life in there. It was that tiny bit of life that now let her know that the haunted man behind the eyes were fighting to build up his courage.

He found it.

With a resolute look in his eyes, Theon took a daring step forward and held the rolled up sheet of paper out towards Jon. Again.

"Thank you, my friend."

At the mention of the word 'friend', Theon winced.

"You are my friend," Jon repeated emphasising every word. "You were then and you are now."

Theon jerked his head a couple of times in what appeared to be an attempt to nod. A ghost of a smile flicked across his face but was gone in the blink of an eye. Wait! Are those tears?

Quickly Dany searched his face for any other signs of emotions, but only Theon's quick swipe of his hand across the face told her she'd been right. She couldn't blame him though. Jon had confided to her how Theon used to treat him like his own personal punching-bag. At the same time though the two boys basically only had each other to depend on. Despite only being a boy, Jon had quickly understood that Theon merely did what he did to survive. He was the youngest of the Greyjoys, a family who took the 'survival of the fittest' quite literally.

The entire Greyjoy clan treated Theon anyway they wanted, the degrees of degrading and humiliating treatment increasing by the day. Jon had never given her details, and don't think I could ever bare to hear it now. The only one Theon had to take all his anger and frustration out on was Jon who, with a bastard's name, no one gave two shits about. Beating Jon saved Theon a sliver of dignity in the eyes of the remaining Greyjoy family; being beaten by Theon oddly meant Jon was considered Theon's property - his pet - and therefore spared beatings by the other, and older, orphan boys.

Thus, Jon and Theon developed their mutual messed up dependency on each other for the sake of survival. After being sent to Craster's Keep Jon had no idea what'd happened to Theon, but he'd confessed to Dany that he suspected it involved Theon's uncle, Euron. Her husband had labelled the Greyjoy captain 'a complete and utter psycho'. She could only imagine the kind of abuse Theon had suffered at his uncle's hands. His uncle, his own blood for fuck's sake!

Dany considered herself lucky for never having crossed paths with any of the Greyjoys as a child. There wasn't much all of Westeros agreed on, however the collective loathing of the Greyjoys - and Boltons for that matter - was one of the rare cases.

"May I open it now?" Jon smiled up at his nervous friend whose only response was a silent nod.

Carefully untying the string and tucking it in his pocket, Jon unrolled the paper and uncovered a black and white pencil drawing.

"Oh Theon, it's beautiful!" Dany marvelled at the masterpiece before her. Beautiful but heart-breaking.

"It sure is," her husband echoed next to her, voice thick with emotion, "did you make this yourself?"

Eyes full of uncertainty looked from Jon to her and back again. "Y-yes, I did," Theon mumbled, fingertips fidgeting with the seams of his pants. "Dr. Viserys said it'd be good for me."

He speaks! The few times she'd heard Theon speak more than a few words at a time, he'd sounded like a toddler stumbling its way through 'language-ing'. This however had been a full, grammatically correct sentence. The revelation made her want to jump for joy, but instead she settled for squeezing her husband's arm extra tight. Jon responded by handing her one edge of paper and snuggled her closer to him.

Now they could both examine the drawing fully. As she initially thought the drawing was a beautiful display of skill but the scene itself was harrowing.

At the centre was a large kraken. Surrounded by ships, it was clearly fighting for survival. There were spears sticking out of its body, a couple of severed limps sinking in the water, and blood gushing from a wound to the head where a large hook was attached - the crew on one of the ships pulling on ropes tied to the hook. From underneath the water, shadows were swimming up towards the struggling kraken, pulling at its arms, dragging it down. Oh sweet Theon! Once again Dany felt her heart break seeing this shell of a man attempting to convey his soul crushing pain.

In the sky a small group of dragons were swooping and setting the ships ablaze in the background. A pack of wolves stood on the shore - teeth bared, hind-legs dug in to the ground as they too were pulling on robes. Oh! The kraken had an arm intertwined with the rope the wolves pulled at. Another arm was digging into the sand, desperately trying to hold on to something. No mistaken the symbolism; he's reaching out to us.

Teary eyed Dany peeked over to her husband. Noticing his Adam's apple bop she knew she wasn't alone in battling a wave of emotions. Although I guess I could blame any momentary emotional instability on you, she bit back a smile while tenderly rubbing a warm hand over her protruding stomach.

"Do...it..," Theon abruptly stopped himself again.

"Sweetheart, you always have permission to speak here." He still avoided eye contact. "Please, go ahead," Dany gently prodded him. Jon pulled her closer and kissed her temple.

It took a couple of beats for Theon to muster up his courage one more time.

"It is ok?" He winced but continued, "d-do you like it?"

"It's amazing and I love it!" Jon took the drawing and handed it over to Dany as he got up. Two steps and he was toe to toe with Theon. "—and so are you."

Before their broken friend could respond Jon had him wrapped in a bearhug. There was a fleeting glimpse of panic before he eased into it and all but collapsed in Jon's arms. Besides the cinnabons, this was the first human contact Theon had had in years. Dany was amazed. He must be so tired, poor thing. He's taken huge strides today. Vis would be very proud of him. I know Jon and I are.

Her husband gently rocked a sobbing Theon who was clinging to him as if for dear life. She could hear Jon's calm voice quietly speaking to their distraught friend, "I got you. It's gonna be alright. You're safe now."

She remembered the night Jon had disclosed to her - laying in his arms, all tangled up in sheets - how he'd say those same words to everyone he rescued while in the Night's Watch. He'd repeat the words to them like a mantra, over and over and over until they calmed down; minutes or hours didn't matter to him - he'd keep speaking until they understood they'd been saved. My hero. If it wasn't for the sombre picture in front of her she would've giggled to herself for secretly thinking of Jon as a hero. Well, he's a hero to me and others whether he likes it or not.

Theon seemed to have calmed down. Only a few irregular sniffs could be heard now. His grip on Jon loosened but upon seeing Dany he tried hiding his face from her sight.

"No no, we'll have none of that now, young man," Jon gently coaxed Theon's head back up. "No shame in crying. No shame in having a heart. No shame in being human." Yup, definitely a hero.

Still holding on to each other, Jon took two steps back, turned around and eased Theon down on to the bench next to Dany. Jon dug out a handkerchief from a pocket, crouched in front of his friend and carefully wiped the tears from Theon's eyes and cheeks.

"Man to man; heart to heart, Theon - we're champions you and I. We made it out. We're finding our way through."

Quiet as always Theon listened to Jon speak, fingers picking at the shirt sleeves.

"I see you out there in that lonely ocean. Fighting for your life, your sanity, your humanity. Battling the demons and shadows all gnawing, scratching and eating away at your mind. I see you, my friend. I see you. I see you." Jon took a couple of deep breaths steading himself. I know this hurts you too, my love, but remember to stay calm for Theon's sake.

Silent tears rolled down Theon's cheeks once again. Dany was fighting her instinct to reach out to him and hold his hand, maybe a reassuring hand on his shoulder. It's a miracle he's letting Jon touch him and I don't want to push him.

"I'll fight for you, Theon. Till my heart is black and blue - and longer if needed. All I'm asking is you keep swimming. It's exhausting, I know-" he wrapped his hands around Theon's- "but I'll be right here with you to keep your head above water whenever you need a break, and you can rest for as long as you need. Just please keep swimming, Theon. We'll help re-attach your kraken arms—"

"I'm not a kraken," Theon hissed.

Taken aback, her husband sent her a crooked smile. So there's a sliver of fight left in the dog after all. Good!

"I'm not a kraken; don't want to be one," he confessed weakly, "not anymore."

"A wolf then?" Jon inquired.

"I'm not a Stark."

"An orca maybe?"

Both men looked at her puzzled.

"I just thought..," she trailed off. Think before you speak, Dany. Fuck's sake! She cleared her throat. "Orcas are also known as wolves of the sea. They have several traits similar to wolves: They're intelligent, curious, playful. They're loyal and fierce protectors. Loving and affectionate, and form strong family ties. Talented and ruthless hunters."

Theon had lowered his head again, back to staring at his hands in his lap. Shit! I pushed him too far.

Still crouching before him Jon was able to see his face though, and apparently it wasn't as bad as Dany feared because her husband gave her a small nod indicating she should keep speaking.

"They're survivors - known to live and thrive both as far south as the Summer Sea and as far north as the Shivering Sea. Passing knowledge from generation to generation. Adapting to their environment they utilise different hunting techniques depending on available prey."

Nibbling on a corner of his lower lip, casting frequent glances her way out of the corner of his eye, Dany could tell Theon was mulling over her words.

"—speaking of prey," she continued, leaning a bit closer to Theon lowering her voice adding a secretive aspect to their conversation, "there are interesting reports coming from the Cinnamon Straits, reports of sightings by both locals and scientists, speaking of a family of orcas who have specialised in hunting, killing and eating great white sharks."

Wide-eyed, both men turned to her. Dany looked back with a smirk on her face. That got their attention.

"I don't know about you guys but I think that's pretty bad-ass." She dared to place her hand on Theon's lower arm as she added, "-and so are you, sweetheart."

Drawing a shaky breathe, he muttered, "I'd like to believe that."

"Believe it," Jon urged, "all of it, and all the wolves and dragons you sketched-" pointing to the paper in Dany's hand- "will be right here to remind you whenever you need to hear it."

Theon was back to his contemplative silence, meaning Jon and her were back to waiting on their broken friend to decide where to go from here. He hasn't fully retracted into his shell though. Gods please let that be a good sign.

"Being an orca sounds nice," nodding to himself he added, "I'd like that."

Jon grinned, "that's settled then. C'mon let's get you two back inside - it's getting a bit chilly out here."

She's been so focus on Theon that she hadn't noticed she was shivering; no doubt her ever watchful husband had seen it from the second it began. My hero.

As they slowly made it up the path through the garden, Theon turned to her. "If I'm an orca now...," he trailed off, hesitating.

"—yes?" She smiled reassuringly at him.

"—then..what's..I mean.."

"Just breathe, dear, take your time and you can me ask anything."

Theon nodded slightly as he stared down at his feet. Glancing up nervously, he muttered, "what about your baby?"

She flashed Theon a smile before caching her husband's sparkling eyes as well. Affectionally stroking her pregnant stomach, voice filled with pride she replied, "it's a little dragonwolf."

[mmazzeroo]

My life is complete

My life is complete!!! Does this mean I may hense forth refer to myself as ‘the official writer of @thescarletgarden1990‘s favourite Viserys’? Sat in the middle of my studies for a uni project when I got this mail, and instantly started smiling like a lovesick fool.