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ladykailitha · 1 month

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The Harrington Pattern Part 11

The second one for today.

There is a joust, a wild Eddie shows off his mating dance, and Steve and Jeff plot a romance.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

****

Steve sat on the edge of his seat as he cheered each successful strike the Black Knight made and winced with every hit he took.

The kids were loudly shouting and cheering and even Nancy would leap to her feet when the Black Knight won a match.

It was down to the final match. The Black Knight verses the White Lion. They were two points each. Final run.

The horses pawed at the ground. The knights shifted in their armor as they tried to settle the joints. Every person in that stadium was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward as they held their collective breath.

The man stepped forward with the flag and eyed each knight nervously. He looked up at the king and queen. The king nodded giving his consent. The flag dropped and the man leapt out of the way.

The horses raced down the line as the knights lowered their lances. The audience slowly rose to their feet as the horses thundered toward each other.

No one had yet taken a single breath.

Then...

CLASH!

And the White Lion flew to the ground as his horse made it to the other side of the arena. His squire grabbed the horses reins to stop it from running away.

The whole crowd erupted, the breath finally released in shouts of exultation.

The Black Knight and his squire were at their other end of field, whooping and hollering as they celebrated his win.

Steve and Robin grabbed each other and jumped up and down. They hadn’t seen anything so exciting since Lucas made the final shot of the game.

And it appeared that the boy in question thought the same as he kept screaming “YES!!”

The Black Knight took off his helmet and waved at the crowd. And their entire row let out a gasp.

“Jeff?” Dustin squealed. “Jeff was the Black Knight all along? That is so awesome!”

Now Lucas was completely flipping out. No one could deny that Jeff had won fair and square. That he had the superior skill.

Steve looked over at the king and queen. Neither one of them looked happy to see it had been Jeff the whole time. But they appeared gracious enough when they were handing out the prizes.

Steve was cheering and screaming right along with the rest of them. And it was a cool surprise. Who would have thought that Jeff played his favorite sport.

After the award ceremony they were allowed to go see Jeff at the stable.

Steve looked around when he entered. Jeff caught his eye and grinned. They both knew who he was looking for.

“He’s getting ready,” Jeff said with a wink. “You’ll just not want to miss the next event.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Whatever it was, he knew it was going to be amazing. He just wished he had more of an idea of what it was. He looked out at the arena floor and saw that the long wooden partition for the joust had been taken down and workers were quickly putting up... what, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Just let me get out of this armor,” Jeff was saying, “and I’ll join you guys in the stands.”

As they walked back to the stands, Robin pulled out her flier of the day’s events and Steve looked over her shoulder.

“What’s trick riding?” he mumbled.

But she just shrugged. She didn’t know either.

They sat up in the stands and they talked among themselves as the workers finished up what they were doing.

The field was mostly empty except a small platform where the rider would mount their horse.

There were two horses, both black with weird looking saddles.

The announcer got up and bellowed into a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the first time ever here at the Hawkins Renaissance Fair we have Hawkins own Eddie Munson trick riding extraordinaire.”

Eddie stepped out onto the field but gone were the puffy sleeves and thigh high boots. His costume was tight fitting and boots were soft soled. It still looked period, but it was clearly designed from modern materials which would make it easier to move in.

Strapped to his back was a lute, the same lute he had been carrying all week.

He mounted the platform and waved to the crowd.

Eddie got on to the first horse and got it into motion. The other horse merely shook its mane as it waited patiently for its turn.

Eddie raised his feet and slipped them into a set of stirrups higher up on the saddle. Sending a wink Steve’s way, he stood up on the horse and began to play.

He began singing. Horribly. Eddie was a fine enough singer for their band, but it seemed to Steve he was deliberately off key as he sang ribald bar tunes.

He slipped a harness over his head and around his waist. Then to shock of the crowd, slid off the side of the horse. Steve was on his feet, so sure that Eddie would be crushed under the thundering hooves the galloping horse.

But as the horse turned, Steve could see that Eddie was safe and still playing.

His caterwauling got progressively worse the more dangerous the stunt was. Almost as if he was signaling to the audience that he was safe.

He made it back to the platform where he handed the lute off to someone who had stepped out onto the field for the reason. They removed the saddle off the one horse Eddie had been riding and he straddled both horses, one foot on each.

And off he went racing around the arena.

Steve was sure that his heart had stopped several times, once with every trick Eddie did.

He was also pretty sure that wasn’t good for it.

But Eddie landed every trick like a pro and at the end he hopped off the platform with a jaunty wave and a deep bow.

Steve was cheering up and down as the crowd around him erupted with applause.

Eddie bowed again and with the other guy that had taken his lute, lead the horses away.

Steve isn’t sure who was more impressed by Eddie’s riding the kids or Nancy. Her jaw had dropped from the first trick and remained that way all throughout Eddie’s riding.

“Where did he learn that?” she asked.

Jeff grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Everyone exchanged glances as the whole gaggle followed Jeff back to the stable where Eddie and the other guy were brushing down the horses Eddie had used in his show.

The man, who on closer inspection was a teenage old boy spotted Jeff and waved. “Jeffrey! You did great out there today. Mom hasn’t stopped gushing about it.”

The Party turned to Jeff in shock. But he just chuckled.

“Guys,” he said, “this is my little brother Ollie. Ollie, you remember Gareth and Brian, the boys are Hellfire, the girls kick ass, and the two guys are the brat wranglers.”

Jonathan and Steve shared a look before they chorused, “Hey!”

Eddie laughed, but did the proper introducing. When he got to Steve, Ollie’s eyes went wide and nodded.

“Steve Harrington,” Ollie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve frowned. “From Jeff?” he asked, confused.

“No, man,” Ollie said with a laugh, “from Eddie.”

Who promptly ducked behind his horse under the guise of brushing its mane.

Steve licked his lips slowly as a sly smile took over his face. “No doubt only horrible things,” he teased.

Eddie let out a squawk and glared at him from around the horse. “Hey!”

Steve laughed and Eddie let out a little huff of breath as he pouted.

“Our parents own the horses,” Jeff said, “We have three that joust and two the trick ride and then there’s King, who was a racehorse in his heyday.”

Ollie nodded, “We usually let whoever is playing the king of the Fair ride him at the closing ceremonies. He’s pretty as hell.”

“So like Steve,” Dustin said. “He used to be called King Steve in high school.”

Steve tipped the twerp’s hat off.

“Hey!”

El giggled and Dustin’s head whipped around to face her. She pressed her lips together and looked up and away.

“Can I see King?” Will asked, softly.

Ollie lit up. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Jeff. “I’ve got get him ready for tonight anyway, so I can I have Will help me?”

Jeff smiled at his little brother. “Sure thing, it’ll make the work go faster.”

“He seems like a good kid,” Jonathan said, “how old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” he said, “so he’ll be an incoming freshman this year.”

Lucas smiled. “So a year younger than us.”

Jeff nodded.

“Is he going to join Hellfire?” Dustin asked, practically vibrating out of his skin.

“He wants to but with me graduating last year,” Jeff said with a wince, “he’s worried he won’t know anyone but Gareth.”

Lucas grinned. “Well he knows us now, we’ll hang out with him all summer so that come school time, he’ll have friends in Hellfire.”

Jeff grinned back. “I think he’d really like that.”

Steve smiled at his nuggets. He was glad that they were willing to take this kid they just met under their wing and make sure he didn’t get lost at high school.

He really couldn’t have been prouder. He caught Eddie’s eye and the other man grinned.

He lopped over to Steve, the grin never leaving his face.

“So pretty boy,” Eddie teased. “You enjoy the show?”

Steve nudged him his shoulder. “Of course I did. A bit terrifying on this side of things though.”

Eddie laughed. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s equally terrifying on my end, too.”

“How long have you been doing this then?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and thought about it. “On and off since I got to Hawkins and became friends with Jeff. His mom is the one that thought me, but I’ve only been serious about it in the last couple years. As a way to keep myself from getting too depressed about school.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

When he looked around most of them had gone. It was only Robin, Gareth, Jeff, and Max that remained.

“Where did everyone go?” Will asked as he came out the stall with Ollie.

Robin began counting of on her fingers. “Brian and Mike went to go watch the caber toss on the outskirts of the Fair. Dustin, Lucas and El went to go watch the sword fights. Nancy and Jonathan went to try the ax throwing.” She looked around. “Did I miss anyone?”

The rest of them shook their heads.

“And the rest of us were waiting for Will!” she finished with a cheer.

Will blushed and Eddie and Steve shared a knowing glance.

“Hey, do you and Ollie want to come with me to see the bagpipers?” Max asked Will.

Will and Ollie looked at each other and then nodded as one. The two boys followed the pirate queen, walking side by side.

“Well,” Gareth said, “I’m glad Mike missed that one.”

Robin looked over at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Mike is always jealous of anyone who spends time with Will,” Steve explained, “except El. Even if he spends all his time with her, he still gets jealous when Will gives up and goes to talk to someone else.”

Eddie nodded. “That kid has got to get his head out of his ass, before a sweet boy like Ollie sweeps our Will the Wise off his feet.”

Jeff grinned. “I like that idea!”

Gareth snorted. “You only like that idea because Mike called your thief a common rogue.”

“My thief is literally a lord,” Jeff defended. “Like Lord Kelnic is his name. He can’t be a common rogue.”

Steve leaned over to Eddie and whispered, “What are they talking about?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Eddie whispered back.

Steve nodded, knowing that Eddie would do just that.

“Hey, you want to go for a stroll?” Steve asked. “I don’t care where, really. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.”

Eddie perked up. “Hell yeah! Why don’t I show the behind the scenes stuff most people don’t get to see?”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled.

Robin and Jeff shared a fond glance about their best friends and shook their heads as Eddie led Steve away.

****

Part 12 Part 13

I love jousting Eddie as much as the next gal, but I also realize that Eddie looks like a stiff wind would knock him over and would be flying out of that saddle with every hit. So I made him a trick rider instead.

I also did not set out to write Will a love interest, the love interest just shoved himself into my story and I let him stay.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #steve is a history nerd

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pulisicsgirl · 9 months

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breathe, you're okay - mason mount

summary: when the mounting pressure of a Women's UCL run is falling on Y/N's shoulders, she isn't handling it by herself as well as she would like everyone to believe she is

pairing: Mason Mount x footballer!reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, no established relationship, !!descriptions of a panic attack!!, discussions about mental heath, supportive Mase

requested: no

notes: surprise!! I'm sorry I haven't posted in months-- my life kind of went up in flames over the summer and I haven't had the time to write that I was hoping to. I have a few WIPs in my drafts, and I am still working on all of your requests! Please let me know what you think of this!

The hot afternoon sun beat down on you, and you felt the drops of sweat sliding down the side of your head and tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you ran up and down the field, weaving between cones, carrying the ball at your feet, running through a series of consecutive drills that were designed to refine your skills and test your endurance.

You did your best to recall the instructions that your coach had carefully laid out before the team began the drill, but with the heat and the fatigue that was seeping all the way into your bones, it seemed impossible to remember. You wound up relying on the teammate in front of you to recall what you needed to do next.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief when you heard the sound of the whistle—two short chirps, signaling for you to halt your movements. You draped your arms over your head, drawing in deep, heaving breaths as you attempted to get your heart rate under control.

You joined the rest of your teammates as they gathered around the coach, preparing for his parting words before everyone was dismissed.

“Good session today, ladies,” he clapped his hands in front of him, looking around the circle. “I’m seeing a lot of good things. A lot of improvement in our touches and finishing. You all are looking really good.”

A couple of the girls clapped at his words, the rest too exhausted to do anything but listen.

“We have the day off tomorrow, so use it well. Rest, recover, and come back Monday ready to go. We’ve got some heavy prep next week before the second leg on Friday,” he continued, and a couple others whooped, getting excited for the upcoming big game.

“They’re gonna be a really tough opponent, I’ll be honest. We know that their back line is really strong, tough to break through.” Your coach’s eyes fell on you, and you knew what was coming next before he even began to speak, your stomach sinking slightly. “But that’s what we have Miss Y/N, for, right?”

Several of the girls cheered for you. The girls near you slapped you on the back, trying to get you hyped up. And the weight that had settled in the pit of your stomach grew heavier.

The Manchester United women were on an impressive UEFA Women’s Champions League run, overcoming seemingly insurmountable odds to make it to the semifinal. And according to the media (and now your own teammates and coaches), it was all thanks to you.

In the group stage, a decisive game in which your team had gone down 2-0 in the first half had seemed hopeless until you had scored two goals in the second, assisting on the third to put your team through to the knockout games. Another three goal contributions in the quarter-final matches had put you in the spotlight of all of the team’s media coverage, thrusting a wave of attention upon you that you had never asked for.

You had gone down 1-0 in the first leg of the semi-final, and now you were playing from behind. And it seemed that everyone expected you to be the one to pull them out of it.

So now, you were left feeling the pressure as the second leg was fast approaching.

“Alright, ladies. Have a good rest of the day and a great day off tomorrow.” He clapped his hands, dismissing you all. The circle of girls dispersed, chatting among themselves.

“Am I still leaving the cones out for you?” the coach raising his eyebrows at you. You only nodded in return. “Okay, don’t work yourself to death.”

You laughed humorlessly as you fiddled with the ball at your feet, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on your shoulder to try to draw your attention to him. “Get some rest tomorrow, okay? We all see how hard you’re working. Give yourself a break.”

Another nod is all that you can muster, and you don’t miss the short sigh that he lets out as he drops his hand from your shoulder and walks to join the rest of the group moving indoors.

You repositioned a few of the cones to set up your own drill and got right into it.

Across the field, on another training pitch near yours, Mason watched as you carried the ball with you up and down the field, weaving between cones, practicing a few skills that he had seen you implement in games, and taking a shot on the goal at each pass.

He was supposed to be doing a bit of extra work with a few of the boys. The men’s team had finished their training session about an hour before, but a few of them still felt like they wanted to get a bit more done before calling it a day. So here they were, running a few small three-a-side games to utilize the last of their energy that day.

But he couldn’t help but notice how you never stopped.

During the team training, you were always one of the hardest-working ones out there. When he had returned to the pitch from lunch, you were taking shots on the goal with the rest of your team nowhere in sight. He wasn’t even sure he had seen you eating lunch inside when he thought about it.

And now here you were, sprinting across the length of the field, over and over, after the rest of your team had hit the showers.

He felt a twinge of worry for you but brushed it off as one of his teammates called his name to pull his attention back to the game they were playing.

Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself to keep moving. Your entire body was drenched in sweat. Every muscle ached from overexertion as you gritted your teeth, forcing them to keep moving. The sun was dizzyingly bright as the evening set in. You could feel the heat practically radiating off of your skin. Your lungs were burning with your heaving breaths and your mouth quickly grew dry.

“That’s what we have Miss Y/N for, right?” Your coach’s words echoed through your head as you carried the ball down the field.

“Y/L/N carries the Man U Women through to the semifinal!” You recalled the title of the article as you weaved between the cones.

“I really believe Y/N Y/L/N could be the one to lead Manchester United to their first Women’s Champion’s League trophy!” You heard the words of the pundit clear as day as you planted your foot, striking the ball cleanly. It soared through the air, curving toward the goal, and struck the crossbar. The ball flew away from the goal, bouncing pathetically on the ground in the penalty area.

You took a pause, the words and expectations crashing around your mind leaving an unsettling feeling in your chest. As you stood there, you couldn’t seem to get your panting breaths to grow steadier.

Your shirt suddenly felt too tight on your neck. You grasped the fabric, pulling it away from your body in an attempt to allow yourself to breathe easier, but nothing seemed to be helping.

Your head was spinning. You felt your stomach sink, a feeling like when you plummeted down the tall hill of a rollercoaster, a sick feeling settling in your abdomen. Your skin began to crawl, and you just couldn’t stop hyperventilating.

You began to panic. Eyes searching frantically for relief. You weren’t sure what you were looking for—something, anything.

You suddenly felt like you were too out in the open, needing to seclude yourself away from the sight of prying eyes. You set into a sprint, off of the field and around the corner of the nearest part of the building to you, trying to find some shade from the hot sun and hide yourself from anyone who might see your pathetic state.

But it was too late. Mason had seen the whole thing.

They had just paused their game for a short water break. He had seen you take the shot, instead hitting the crossbar. It only took him a few seconds once you paused to realize that something wasn’t right.

He watched the way your chest rose and fell rapidly in quick, short breaths. When you began attempting to pull your shirt away from your body, he instantly knew what was taking place. He’d recognize that feeling anywhere.

You were having a panic attack, whether you realized it or not.

As soon as he saw you take off for the side of the building, he was running after you without so much as a word of explanation to his teammates.

Once in the shade of the wall you hid behind, you began pacing, unable to keep still. Every inch of your body felt jittery, and you felt unsteady on your legs. You couldn’t manage more than rapid, shallow breaths. Your throat felt tight, your breaths sounding more like wheezes, and it was starting to make your head spin. Your hands flew to your head, scratching at your scalp in an attempt to somehow rid yourself of the feeling.

You were startled by Mason swiftly rounding the corner, concern written all over his face as he stopped in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay,” he spoke calmly and evenly. He quickly reached up, taking your wrists in his hands so he could gently but firmly pull your hands out of your hair to keep you from hurting yourself.

“I can’t, Mason. I can’t,” you panted, shaking your head ‘no’ frantically and still trying to weakly pull your hand from his grip.

“You’re okay, Y/N. Try to slow down your breathing,” Mason’s calm voice directly contrasted your frantic behavior, speaking in short sentences so as to not overwhelm you more. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

A short sob fell from your lips, and you felt the tears spilling over and down your cheeks.

“We’re gonna lose,” you sobbed, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “The semifinal, we’re gonna lose it, and it’s gonna be all my fault.”

In that moment, everything clicked into place for Mason-- the UWCL run, your success in the games leading up to the semi-final leg, the pressure from the fans and the team, the countless extra hours you had been putting in.

A loud noise in the distance, coming from the direction of the parking lot, startled you, snatching your attention and you whipped your head to the side, eyes searching frantically for the source. He released your wrists from his hand, testing the waters as he turned your head back to look at him with a hand on your cheek.

He cradled your face with a hand on either side, keeping your focus on him. His thumbs wiped the tears away that had slipped down your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you,” he repeated the affirmations he had already been telling you.

As he stroked his thumbs softly over the skin of your cheek, he felt that your breathing was already growing a bit slower. You had reached up, holding onto his wrists with both of your hands to steady yourself, feeling too unsteady on your feet. His hands were gentle and soft on your skin.

Mason watched your expression, taking long deep breaths for you to emulate. Your eyes were still wide, darting frantically around his face, but you were trying your best to follow his breathing. He continued whispering short reassurances.

“You’re safe.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you.”

You were beginning to calm down, but your eyes darted to something behind Mason, pulled away from the calm atmosphere he had tried to create for you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he spoke gently, pressing his forehead to yours so you would only focus on him. You were shocked at how little the intrusion on your personal space bothered you. In fact, to your surprise, the closeness seemed to settle you a little more.

You continued focusing on your breathing, gripping tightly to his wrists as if you thought he’d disappear if you let go. Your eyes were clamped closed, listening to Mason’s soft and slow breathing. You felt your pounding heart being to slow its pace.

The panic you had been feeling subsided, leaving behind a wave of extreme fatigue. You felt completely and utterly drained.

Mason must have noticed the way that your body slumped over, and he guided you to sit down on the grass, leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He sat down next to you, leaving space so he didn’t make you more nervous. But in the haze you felt in your mind, you felt a need to still be close to him, leaning over so you could place your head on his shoulder. A short pang of guilt washed over you as you noticed the crescent-shaped indents you had left on his wrists, your nails digging into the skin as you had held onto him.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, your eyes slipping closed as you continued focusing on breathing slowly. A gentle breeze blew through, cooling your clammy skin and brushing through the blades of grass.

“I used to get them sometimes, too, you know?” Mason broke the silence, speaking softly.

You responded with a quiet, “hmm?” unsure of what he meant.

“Panic attacks,” he explained. “At the end of last season, before I left Chelsea. There was a lot of pressure. Any time I played, everyone had something to say about it. Even when I didn’t play, some would find a reason to be upset. It all just got to be too much.”

A deep sadness filled you while you listened to his words. “How did you get through it?”

“Ben found me having one in my car after training one day.” He was quiet for a moment. “I tried to power through it—like you. Skipping lunch and staying late to train a bit extra on the field or put in an extra session in the gym. But once Ben realized what was going on, he made sure that I was taking care of myself properly and wasn’t dealing with it on my own anymore.”

You sat up so you could look at Mason’s face, and you saw a hint of sadness there. “So I’ll tell you what he told me. There are 10 other people with you on that field at all times. If you fall down, there are 10 pairs of hands ready to help you back to your feet. If you succeed, there are 10 others to celebrate with you. But it’s not all on you.”

Your eyes were misty, welling up with tears at his words. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a secure hug as the tears began to stream down your cheeks.

“No matter the outcome of the game next week, you’re an incredible player, Y/N.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You’ve already done so much so early in your career. The media and the fans will say what they want—don’t let them get to you. And your coaches may get carried away with their expectations for you, but it’s just because they’re so excited to see you succeed. Just be the player you know how to be, and your achievements will speak for themselves.”

“Thank you, Mason,” you whispered after pondering his words for a moment. No words could express the gratitude you felt for the relief he had brought you just by letting you know that he was there and he understood. But as he squeezed your shoulders lightly in response, you hoped he knew just how thankful you were.

Eventually, Mason helped you to your feet, guiding you back toward the fields. You were still feeling a bit weak and unsteady, so he made sure you remained upright with a gentle hold on your arm as you walked. Deciding it was time for you to call it a day, he insisted on collecting the cones that you had been training with, not allowing you to help him by picking up even one of them.

It took some convincing but you told him you would be fine to drive yourself home—his only condition was that you texted to let him know you made it there safely.

“Alright, then. Rest on your day off tomorrow. Give yourself a break, okay?” he spoke as he put the last of the cones away. “I’ll check in with you on Monday, if that’s okay.” He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. The two of you had been friendly before today, but you wouldn’t have considered yourselves close friends. He just wanted to be sure that you knew you had people in your corner.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you nodded, smiling at him. With a final hug, he sent you on your way as he turned to rejoin his (undoubtedly confused) teammates where he had left them.

“Remember: rest!” he shouted back at you as you parted ways, and you couldn’t stop the blushing smile that worked its way onto your face.

tag list: @landoslover @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #chelsea fc #footballer fic

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brodieland · 2 months

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.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Spidey Valdez !! ´ˎ˗

Spidey!Leo Valdez x Fem!Poseidon!Reader Synopsis: Your boyfriend Spiderman, or Leo Valdez, took a break from saving the city to eat with his girlfriend. Word Count: 1110 A/N: I hope it doesn't show to hard that Ive never watched Spiderman.. or read hero's of Olympus.. PART 2

Y/N Jackson was a child of Poseidon, along with her twin brother, Percy Jackson. They were known for embarking on dangerous adventures. These include, but are are not limited too, the underworld, Mount Othrys, and the Labyrinth. Safe the say the two of you making it out alive proves how extraordinary the both of you were.

Though, were you experiences even considered cool when you learned what your boyfriends secret identity was? Well, yes they most definitely were, but still.

Your boyfriend Leo Valdez, on top of being a child of Hephaestus, was in fact Spiderman. Yes, that guy who swings from building to building with webs in his red suit. That, may you add, fits him very nicely. When he's not swinging through the streets of queens solving issues or working hard in the Hephaestus workshops, he was swinging through the streets of Manhattan looking for his lady, Y/N, to spend time with.

You were currently sitting in your bedroom, doing some last minute homework by your window. It was Saturday night, and most kids would've been out hanging out with their friends, but you were grounded after getting suspended at school. Your mom understood the troubles but it wasn't demigod trouble so she didn't let it slide this time. While of course, you could've snuck out through the fire escape your window leads out to, you may or may not have been expecting a secret little visitor.

You were sitting at your desk. You were supposed to be doing your English homework, but of course your dyslexia made it kind of hard, so you just resorted to staring out the window. You were people-watching, and before you knew it, a white string zoomed right past you and connected to your building. You stood up from your chair so quick it almost swung and fell backwards, and before you knew it a boy in a bright red suit landed on your fire escape.

When he landed he quickly pulled off his mask, revealing his dark curly hair and the mischievous grin you love oh so much. You stood there admiring him for a second before Leo starting pointing at your window, causing you to scramble and slowly open it, doing your best not to make much noise, and slid your self outside. As you regained your footing, you quickly grabbed Leo's face and pulled him into a kiss.

"Hey there" Leo grinned. You noticed he had his hand hiding behind his back.

You crossed your arms and raised your eyebrow. "Whatchu got back there?"

"Oh." Then Leo pulled out two medium sized brown bags and handed one to you. "You mean this?" You slowly took the bag and looked inside. You gasped, it was Shake Shack and you were starving.

"You got us Shake Shack."

"Thought we could eat together, never to busy helping out my city to eat with my girl." Leo said as he took a seat on a step, you shortly following him and sitting beside him.

"And you remembered my order, what a dream."

"Of course I did, you think I'm a rookie at this?" you busted out laughing at him. "Anyways, not that I'm not glad you were here, but its Saturday night, why are you home?"

"Oh right I haven't told you yet. I'm grounded." Leo looked at you confused.

"Grounded? Since when do you get grounded?"

"Since I got suspended from school yesterday. 10 days." Leo choked slightly on his burger.

"Yo what? I miss ONE day of school. What'd you even do."

"First of all, you miss a lot of days." Leo just rolled his eyes before you continued. "And it wasn't anything crazy, just the usual."

"Nah nah, please tell me what the 'usual' is."

"I pulled a little prank. It honestly wasn't anything crazy and those girls deserved it." You paused for a second. "And no snakes were harmed in the process."

"SNAKES? I can't believe I missed out on this what." Leo stared wide-eyed at you.

"All I'm saying is, those girls should start, whats the word, showing interest, to another guy" you smiled a Leo, your boyfriend, and crush of the girls who got on the bad end of your snakes.

"Aw you threw a bunch of snakes at girls who thought I was hot." Leo fake pouted and leaned toward you, you jokingly shoved him back to his side.

"First off, I didn't throw it at them, I set them loose in the locker room and locked the door." You threw up one finger and spoke in your matter-of-fact tone. Leo just smiled. "And two, they wanted to try and break us up so I don't think I was being overly dramatic."

"Ughhh why are you so obsessed with meeee" Leo threw his arm around you and pulled you close.

"Interesting, what about the time you used your webs and hung them around some guys ankles because they were staring at my tits as I spoke?"

"I think that was reasonable." You both didn't say anything for a split second.

"Maybe we both have a jealousy thing." You said the same thing at the same time and started laughing together. Leo continued to hold you close before pulling up your face and kissing you. You guys continued to make out for a few more minutes before your window slid open, revealing your amazing brother Percy who was now also standing out on the fire escape.

"This doesn't look very grounded to me." Percy crossed his arms, staring right in your eyes.

"Oh my gods what is it that you need so bad." You stared right in his eyes back, squinting.

"Well, moms home." You quickly turned to Leo who was now looking for his mask. "And she already saw Leo from downstairs, so."

"I love when you let me know she's here, oh wait, you didn't." You sassed back at Percy. "Wait for the next time Annabeth sneaks in."

"Oh so the both of you are sneaking people in?" Your mom, Sally Jackson, said as she was leaning out of the window staring between her two twins.

"NO!" You both said quickly, but Leo was still sitting next to you, staring wide-eyed at Sally.

"I think its your cue to go Leo" your mom said.

"Yeahhh.." Leo stood up and quickly kissed the top of your head before putting his mask back on. "Bye guys." And he left as quick as possible from the awkward situation.

"I'm drilling the both of your windows shut." You and Percy rolled your eyes. "Calm down stop acting like we don't have a front door, now come inside."

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson pjo #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez fluff

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tobitofunction · 6 months

Text

The Pact of Fire and Ice part 3

Part 1 Part 2 part4

After the ceremony was done Cregan lifted you into his arms and carried you back towards the Castle. He carried you towards his room, which now you will share, he let you down in the middle of the room. His hands resting on your hips, "Are you going to bed me now?" you asked staring at the large bed which was covered in large black fur, Cregan hummed,"That's usual for after the wedding" he said, his lips ghosting at your neck," I'm still a maiden" you said softly,"I try to be gentle" he whispered, he began to unlace your dress, the pressure of the corset slowly being realised, Cregan than pulled your dress down your body making the cool air hit your skin making you gasp softly."Targaryen seems truly to be gods" Cregan whispered as his hands glided up and down your body, you turned around slowly,"It's unfair that you are still clothed," you said feeling confident due to his compliment, the wolf hummed before slowly stripping him selves of his clothes, he was muscular, small to large scars littered his body, your fingers traced a larger scar which went from his shoulder to the middle of his chest," I was attacked by a wildling who managed to find themselves inside the walls" he explained, you didn't say anything but your fingers tracing lower until they stopped."Never seen a cock before?" he said with a teasing voice which made your cheeks flush,"No" you said removing your hand from his body and your eyes moving towards his own icy blue ones,"Than I be gentle dear wife, well until you have gotten used to having a cock inside of you" he said pressing a kiss against your temple, he then grabbed your hand and led you to the bed,"On the bed, lay on your back" he instructed, you complied and laid down on soft furs which were sprawled out onto his bed, Cregan climbed onto the bed grabbing you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, he caged you with his body,"Let's see if the dragon can be tamed by a wolf" he said making you take a sharp breath.

You feel asleep after the act, Cregan warm body luring you to sleep with ease. Cregan gently stroked your smooth skin, different thoughts filling his head. He didn't want this marriage, he only did as he needed an heir, his heart still belonged to his two former wives, that's what he thought at least, the more time he spent with you the more he started to feel, something which is dangerous for him. He believed he was cursed, he lost his first love in childbirth and his second due to a sickness, he believes if he lets you in his arms you be the next. He sighed and looked down at you, your cheek was pressed against his bare chest, your full lips were parted slightly. He than gently removed himself from you, he quietly got changed before leaving you alone in the large chamber.

You woke up, your body ached from last night's activities, and you stretched your arms across the soft first just to find the other side empty. You sighed and sat up lifting the furs over your chest just as a knock was heard on the door,"Come in?" you said,"Princess, Lord Cregan send me to get you ready for the day" a maid said bowing her head,"Where is he?", "On a hunt, my lady," she said, you bit your lip,"Very well, let's get dressed".

Jace rubbed Vermax's neck when you walked towards him,"Ready to leave?" you said sadly, "You be fine sister, you're a dragon" Jace said cupping your cheek, "I need to go back the veil" he said letting go you," I hope I will see you soon again sister" he said mounting his Vermax, Tyraxes cooed at Vermax as he was ready to take off"Be safe, I can't lose you too not after Luke, promise to be careful" you said looking up at him, "Of course, I promise and remember a King always keeps a promise" he winked before taking off. You looked after Jace as his figure became smaller and smaller, you only turned away when you felt someone stare at you, it was Cregan and his Direwolf.

"I hoped you slept well" he said,"Is it a tradition in Winterfell to leave your wife after bedding her?" you asked with a lifted brow,"I'm sorry if you took offence," he said playing with his gloved hand," I just...I just had a business to take off" you cocked your head, you could sense he wasn't telling the truth but you didn't press him to it,"Well don't do it again, it's pretty rude, I am a Princess after all" you said lifting your chin as Cregan stepped closer," A Lady of Winterfall as well, it truly was immoral of me to leave you, looking so irresistible all bare in front of me" you felt your cheeks heat up at the comment," irresistible, huh? and you still left me" you teased trying to hide how is comment affected you,"And I said it won't happen again, quiet the opposite, you and me will be spending day and night under the furs" he smirked cupping your chin,"A storm is heading to Winterfell, we won't be able to leave for a while, your brother left at the right time","A storm?" you turn to Tyraxes who was staring at Winter, Cregan's Direwolf," I need to get Tyraxes to a safer place, is there a cave where she can have shelter?" you asked holding Cregan's wrist,"Yes, it's not far from here, I show you" you nodded your head,"Than it's time for the wolf to mount a dragon" you smirked, Cregan was taken back by those words,"And I'm not referring to myself" you added which made Cregan tense,"I could just show you where it is and you can some back for her" Cregan said,"Is the Warden of the North scared?" you teased making him shake his head,"No, of course not....maybe a tiny bit" he admitted after a while,"Don't be scared, so long I'm on with you nothing will happen, I promise" you said walking towards Tyraxes, Cregan looked down at Winter who was staring at him with a cocked head,"Don't look at me like that, you be scared as well on a beast like that" Winter just replied with a bark before disappearing into the forest," Come on Lord Stark, a storm is coming you said".

Cregan's fingers were digging into your waist making you chuckle,"Sōvegon(fly)" you said making Tyraxe's open her wings, she let out a roar before taking off,"Shit" you heard Cregan say, Cregan's heart was beating out of his chest as he saw Winterfell become smaller and smaller under him. Once Tyarex's was flying steady Cregan relaxed, his grip loosened and he began to look around in wonder,"The skies are so beautiful" he said with a soft smile,"No wonder people say you are closer to gods than to men, with a few like this you can only feel like a god" he added making you smile proudly,"Where is that cave?" you asked making Cregan snap back into reality," It's north of the wolfs wood, it's small but I say Tyraxe's will fit into it" you nodded and pulled her north,"There" Cregan said pointing towards a dark patch of land,"Tegon (land)" Tyraxe's slipped slightly as she landed which made her growl, you patted her neck as Cregan stepped of the beast with a thud,"I say you ruined Horse riding for me" he laughed as you landed back on the ground, just when Winter reappeared from the bushes,"Hello girl" he said brushing his finger tips against her ears,"We need to go now, I can feel the storm coming closer" he said becoming serious again, you nodded and turned to Tyraxe's,"Jikagon se ruaragon isse konīr, ao sagon save hen se jelmio (Go and hide in there, you be save from the weather)" you said making her roar and turn around and waddle into the depth of the cave.

"Lord Stark, my Lady thank the gods for your arrival" a soldier said," Is everyone in their houses?" Cregan asked back in his stoic tone, no sign of the giddy and excited man from just moments ago could be seen,"Yes my Lord, we were just waiting on your arrival" Cregan nodded,"Close the doors, and head back in for shelter" he ordered making the soldier nod.

"Cregan thank god, you are save" Sarah said the second she saw her brother walk into the hall," You had your wife outside?" she hit Cregan in the shoulder making Cregan lift a brow,"That was idiotic of you, she's a westerner, she isn't used to this cold, she could have frozen to death","Thank you for concern Sarah, I appreciate your kindness, but your brother letting out close to a storm is the least idiotic thing he did" you said making Sarah lift a brow,"Leaving me alone after taking my maidenhead is on top of the list" Cregan pinched the bridge of his nose,"That will follow me around for a while" he mumbled as Sarah looked at him with shock,"You did what?"

#cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan stark x reader #cregan fanfiction

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serxinns · 4 months

Text

Yandere Mha x Scarlet witch Reader Part 2

Shout out to @lady-ashfade she helped me on the mount lady part (cause I didn't know her well)

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Hawks(Platonic)

I wanted to make a pt 2 cause why tf not and because I got more confident of doing the others hope ya like it!

•Hawks is more of a fun big brother and always hides Yandere's tendencies from you he doesn't let himself go too far or let you suspect his actions and would quickly reassure you

•he nicknames you scar for short for scarlet which

•Hawks is like a protective big brother he would secretly watch out for you at any time he can get and whenever he's out of petrol or is required to do missions he leaves a feather on ur clothes or in ur bagpsck so u won't notice

•Hawks is obsessive and protective at the same time he loves every single thing about you he loves to spoil you at any time he can get and when he does he always gifted you his merch heck one time he gifted you his own hoodie with his signature on it saying "Love you little gremlin 😘"

•Hawks loves his fans but he's not hesitate to call them out to protect you if his fangirls try to harm you or harass you. One time he saw one of his fangirls push you out of the way and say rude remarks while trying to reach him that made Hawks pissed as hell and the next day the fans were all arrested cause of some rumors he made up

•whenever you tried of your classmates and teachers gushing all over you fighting to get your attention hawks would always swoop down and grab you after school away from ur classmates and teachers while they all glared and cussed him out and takes you to a secret place nobody knows (it can be an arcade, a garden your choice!) and the both of you would have fun until he had to take you back

• The UA teachers hate him and he loves to teach him with it by hugging you kissing you on the forehead and swinging you around in his arm with a sly smirk on his face

Nezu (Platonic)

•Nezu Knew you were special even before when he saw how you beat those robots with ease and now you'll use ur powers to make them explode ur fighting techniques were very creative yet very reckless cause it did caused u to get hurt he got so worried

•Nezu is the type of principal who would call you in the middle of the class for an important meeting when it's just wanting to have a tea and chat

•Nezu is like a fun uncle he's less strict than the UA if you ever get detention or in trouble and have to go to the principal he'll try to comfort you and let you know that ur not in the wrong even if you are at times

He'll let you know that he'll always be there

•Nezu would do a background check on you to make sure you weren't hiding anything

(sorry idk nezu much)

All Might (Platonic)

•All might is a very worried grandpa whenever he sees you hurt he would immediately go to the nurses office and brings you our favorite snacks 1st he has to see izulu hurt now you!? Give this grandpa a break 😭

•All might would be so worried about you fighting or training so he'd ask Aizawa to lighten up the training for u or maybe he trains with you (Which it works kinda )

•whenever you're in the middle of class he would always barge in his big form just to see your cute shocked face

•Hes very clingy so clingy that mic and All might would have a war about it to see how much they know about you

•All Might and Midnight would team up with the rest of the teachers and adults so they can both spend time with you and share you

•All might LOVES to out little cards with praises with his merch on it (he does it to Midoirya too) saying "Good luck superstar!" or "Keep trying" you might seemed annoyed but deep inside it kinda cheered you up a bit

•He would try and secretly set you up with Midoriya like giving him advice about love and giving him the stuff to gift to you he would even be the third wheel to see if your hang-out was going ok

Fatgum (platonic)

•Fatgum LOVES to get you big bear hugs like ALOT of them whenever he sees you he runs up to you and hugs and spin around you

•Fatgum Loves to take you to uncle and niece's fun times he would take you to the carnival if it's around or those summer festivals but when it's not he takes to his and your fav restaurants

•This Dude is protective ASF whenever Fatgum can't be there with you he makes Kirkshima and Tamaki (Yes he's a Yandere too) to watch out for you just in case and promise to protect you

•Fatgum will also help Kirishima to get with you he loves seeing his intern student happy so he teaches Kiri about love and how things are "manly" he also teaches him how to be sneaky and not get caught with his yandere tendencies he teaches tamaki as well and wishes them good luck

•If anyone messes with you this dude will turn from a happy little goofy uncle to a serious threat he will suffocate that person until they turn purple and prob beat them up a bit and after that's done he, Kiri and tamaki would go comfort you

Mount Lady (Platonic)

•Mount lady LOVES to dress you up in the prettiest outfits and make sure you are comfortable with the outfits she chooses she also makes sure u choose as well and when u come out she will praise you like ur a famous fashion star on the runway

•She notices how class 1a and the teachers would always bother you and baby you and get mad (cause she wanna baby you too) so she would take you away with her giant size and walk away she loves seeing you in her big form you're so tiny and adorable!

•Mount lady would convince you to try to play and tease with your classmates you hesitated at 1st but you thought of how overbearing they are and now how clingy and overprotective they are so you agreed

•Mount Lady would teach you how to flirt, Tease and play with your classmate's hearts she would even give u fashion advice

•Mount Lady would go from a sweet gentle mother to a scary Feral mama bear if anyone touches you she wants to be the only one to touch, hug, and cuddle you

•Shes always despise the UA teachers trying to steal you away from her your her cub! And what kind of mama bear would she be if she let those lowlives mess with HER child?

•Mount Lady and Midnight are deadly enemies she hated hates Midnight would always cuddle you and call you Moonbean every time Midnight would get so close she suddenly appeared between the two of you and tried to distract you by getting you excited for ice cream and making you buy it while she has a little talk with midnight she also dislikes mic as well

"Go on little cub go get us ice cream while I deal with this pest~"

Next thing you know they're fighting while you excitedly wait for your favorite ice cream flavor

Should I add Yandere's big 3 if so should they be romantic or platonic?

#Yandere Ua #yandere bnha #bnha fluff #tw obsessive behavior #tw stalking #tw yandere #yandere Ua Teachers #scarlet witch #marvel

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hearts4maddison · 7 months

Text

You read? Part 2

- Mason mount x reader

summary: You and your girls decided to have a clubbing day out. Funny enough you bump into a familiar face you’ve see before.

Warnings: Swearing,drinking and fluff.

paring: single dad-mason “Mason mount” x female!Reader

You woke up feeling good knowing tonight you would get to go out with your friends ever since holiday and ever since your interaction with mason. All the dates you had been on didn’t go so well and all your friend’s new that. That’s also the whole reason you ended up going clubbing in the first place.

Once again, you were sat there figuring out a perfect dress. You had finally made up your mind on dress and it was final. You couldn’t waste anymore time all your friends were waiting on you already.

once you met up with all of your friend’s you headed inside the club. The same old music blasting, having to walk through a crowd of dancing people just to reach the bar.

Most of your friends were already on their fourth or Fifth drink already. You had said to your self you’d take it easy didn’t want to wake up with the worst hang over of your entire life but you knew one way or another you’d end up having one drink and end up having many more.

____________

The clock had now read 7:30 Most of your friends were already wasted.you were now on your Fifth drink by now probably had more than five.One of your friends Ashley wasnt as drunk was the rest which was good.

Most of your freinds were dancing. You decided to go and freshen up in the bathroom.

You decided to tell Ashley in case she wondered where you had went “hey im going to the bathroom really quick.“ you said with a slight smile

“want me to go with you?“ She smiled back “nah you go and enjoy I'll be back in like a minute or so.“ you responded with a smile and walked to the bathroom.

____________

when you entered the bathroom the music faded. You fixed up your hair and were ready to head back out. You told yourself you'd have one more drink and then ask Ashley to drive you back home with the other girls.

As you walked back your full attention on your phone your phone you accidentally nudged someone knocking whoever's phone out of their hand.

“oh shit! I'm so sorry I wasn't looking!“ you said a lace of worried in your tone. “it's okay you didn't break my phone at least“ whoever responded had a voice you has definitely heard before.

_________

Looking up at whoever you bumped into gave you a shock “Mason!?’’ you said with a surprised tone as you got up and handed his phone back.

“Lexie? Well this took a turn“ he said scratching the back of his head you hadn't talked to mason ever since at the airport and when he spoiled that good book it still struck you that he read?.

“I didn't expect seeing you here...how are you?’’ you said trying to make some kind of small talk to ease up this awkward cconversation“oh yeah i’ve been good how are you?“ he said a small smile on his face.

“I'm good..How's Maisey?“ you said with a smile on your lips “oh she's good! did you come here alone?“ he said sounding a bit curious “oh no came here with some friends what about you didn't take you for a clubbing type“ you said with a smile on your face.

“I could say the same thing pretty lady and again I'm sorry for spoiling that book when we were at the airport“ he said with a slight chuckle “Dont worry apology accepted I guess“ you said with a smile.

“good...Anyways u know you made the best impression on masiey cuz she keeps wondering where the pretty lady from the airport went” he said with a chuckle.

“guess i just make a good impression on everyone!” You say with a laugh causing mason to let out a laugh as-well.

_________

throughout,most of the night you and mason had talked at the bar which then you guys talked and talked and talked until it was time to go home you could see Ashley gesturing to get up and go home now.

“hey it was nice bumping into you mason! but i should get going now.” You said with a smile planted on your face “nice bumping into you too i’ll definitely be telling masiey i bumped into the pretty lady again” He said with a slight laugh causing you to smile.

“Good and don’t you dare spoil another book for ever again!” you said with a fake angry tone causing mason to put his hands up in defeat and laugh “don’t worry they end up together” he said with that same cheeky smile.

“…Are you serious!! How dare you spoil it for me!” you said angry but also trying to bite the smile back “I’m sorry it funny seeing you all mad and that pout you make”he said laughing.

“I’m leaving now! Thanks alot mount!”you said fake angry at him mason just waved and headed back to his group of friends.

________

you got back in your friend Ashley car your other friend’s passed out sleeping in the back “girl what took you so long?” she said sounding curious “nothing i just bumped into someone i knew” you said resting your head on the car window.

“Omg! that cute guy who you were talking to he looked interested in you!” she said with a squeal “Oh shut it! you said with a smile “okay okay just saying” she said with a cheesy smile on her face.

your phone buzzed and as you looked at it was mason number the text message reading.

“Come to masiey birthday party? and i’ll make up for spoiling the book pretty lady.’’

__________________________________________

Ooo…A Invite wonder what’s gonna happen next…

sorry this took like months to get out i was so busy and couldn’t be asked but i’m back now! just a disclaimer this has not been proof read.

hope you enjoyed it.

@am0urjjkx

@judesluv

@almondsblog

#mason mount fic #mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount x you #mason mount imagine

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oh-saints · 11 months

Text

sweetest devotion (p.3)

serena thought she was doing her husband a favour but mason had never felt so frustrated and angry towards his wife than right now.

playboy!mason mount x princess!OC

tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience for this particular chapter

wc: 1.9k

note: sorry i fell asleep last night bcs jetlag truly sucks! i'm sorry i can't give you guys (yes you guys that left some notes on my asks 👀) a happy chapter now but i swear it'll get better next one! but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

tags: @pingyu-in-wonderland @ironmaiden1313 <3 (lmk if you wanna be added!)

<<part 2 - part 4>> sweetest devotion masterlist here

“turn it off, mase.”

elena had been holding back since before both mason and her walked out of her flat but she couldn’t take it anymore. mason’s phone had been vibrating every 30 minutes since then, and it was supposed to be their date night. out of all their weekly quality time, she looked especially forward to tonight because mason had pulled out a reservation at the most sought-after place in london, despite their usual full-booked slot.

but mason’s distracted state-of-mind wasn’t what she had the problem the most. it was the fact that he couldn’t seem to shake off the what-ifs he’d probably be having—what if he just took the call—whenever he peered over the screen of his phone and found the other woman’s name.

serena.

good god, had she never despised a name. one sentence, and it reminded her of everything she could’ve had with mason. yes, she admitted she should take some blame for being the reason why mason and serena happened in the first place—had she not broken up with mason the night he sought refuge in alcohol and night life, her boyfriend now wouldn’t have trapped himself in a loveless marriage with the princess.

fucking hell, elena hated her more because of what she was. a royal princess, no less. elana had never dreamt the day she had to compete with a princess for a man.

“what?”

mason looked up from his phone this time, done from replying to stacy because it was rare for his eldest sister to continuously ping him. but he so wished he’d kept replying to stacy because he’d never seen his girlfriend seething with anger when his attention was diverted back to the alluring lady in red.

“i was replying—”

“serena, i know,” elena folded her arms against her chest, and mason knew better than to debate an angry woman with the correct answer. “now turn it off.”

so he did, with the mind of turning it on shortly after they’d reached back to her flat.

but he never remembered.

now he had to face the reality of waking up to hundreds of texts and missed-calls from his family, mostly asking where he was. others were divided between angry texts for not picking up calls, disappointed ones too for neglecting them. but none was as striking as the last text from serena.

please pick up my call. your mother’s in critical condition.

mason didn’t even think twice as he jolted out from the bed, deserting elena behind in her drowsiness. her usual come back here, baby didn’t work much wonder this time around, his mind was too busy searching for his phone and car keys.

he was far too blinded by the worst possible scenario that could’ve happened to his beloved mother, that he didn’t even think about anything else. not even the countless violations to the traffic laws he committed just to get to the hospital—just as long as he got to his mother’s side in time, just as long as he got to see his mother doing okay.

but that also meant that he forgot about fetching serena from the house. he forgot about the existence of his wife, at least to the rest of the world, and his own marriage. he forgot about the mask he had to put on in public.

he would’ve gone straight to apologising for not getting to the hospital earlier but the sight of serena sitting amongst his sisters, even to the extent of having her arms around a sobbing stacy, clamped his mouth shut. moreover, lewis stood up, arms already folded in front of his chest, and mason had never seen lewis this angry during his short span of life so far.

lowkey, mason could feel his insides cowering because he knew he fucked up so bad—like seven shades of Sunday level of fucked up—for not picking up any calls from his family members but before he could admit his guilt and mistakes, lewis mustered his lowest baritone.

“where have you been?”

his unwavering tone basically confirmed mason’s ultimate sin. “I’m sorry I was—”

“that busy that you let your wife, a foreigner in this country, to take a midnight train to Portsmouth, a city she’s never visited?”

to say mason was surprised, was an understatement. the footballer thought his oldest brother would reprimand him about not picking up his calls when there was a dire emergency at hand.

“what were you thinking, mason mount?”

uh oh, full name was reinstated. mason badly wanted to defend himself but he couldn’t find the ground because in all honesty; what the fuck? the mounts had a worse reality to talk about—the matron of this household was still fighting for her life, for god’s sake!—and lewis wanted to cover other bases instead of the most important thing right now? instead of filling him in about the conditions of their mother?

mason badly, very badly wanted to disclose that he wasn’t responsible for serena’s well-being. like, if she wanted to come it was because she can. not because he asked her, and he would never ask her because he’d very much keep his family away from the impending doom that’d befallen them as soon as the contract expired.

but he kept his mouth shut. partially because he didn’t want to dishonour the agreement between serena and him—because mason would very much prefer to find faults in serena’s stance to this agreement, instead of his own fault—but mostly because he was so mad. how could lewis defend someone he barely knew and accuse mason of something that was out of his control?

“lewis,” serena spoke up gently, as usual. if mason wasn’t blinded with rage towards the said princess, he would’ve admired how regal she was behaving, despite the unspoken chaos blanketing the waiting room. “I think beranting Mason is not necessary,”

the older brother turned his head towards her, asking confirmation if he was hearing her right.

“he must’ve fallen asleep at the coach’s house,” serena continued, giving lewis some sort of reassurance probably that mason wasn’t deserting her behind and that she wasn’t lying about his alibi. “mason overtrains himself lately with both physical and visual training.”

mason would’ve expressed his gratitude behind the scene—why she lied for him, he’d never known—if the woman wasn’t enticing more anger inside of him. always trying to save a fucking face, mason groaned inwardly.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

the midfielder stayed put in the long hallway of the pristine white hospital, deciding not to join the rest of the family on his mother’s side. the wife to his dad for decades had been rolled to her room since hours ago but mason didn’t think he had the capacity not to snap in front of everyone.

especially when serena was the midst of his family, acting as if she belonged there when mason kept the information himself. that she was only doing that to save her face, like she’d been doing since the beginning. since the first time she trapped mason into her loveless marriage arrangement.

mason was only too blind to recognise it.

but now that he noticed all the red flags, mason didn’t want his family to fall into the same blackhole.

“you should break up with her.”

mason’s body jumped slightly at jasmine’s voice, certainly shocked his older sister joining him to oversee the boring central garden of the hospital. “but I’m married to serena.”

“you’re smarter than to miss my point, mase,” jasmine chortled sarcastically. “break up with your mistress.”

jasmine’s gaze might be staring the distance, as if the night scenery was fun and pretty, but her words succeeded pouring mason ice cold water over his head. “what do you mean, jaz?”

“don’t play dumb with me,” the ice was now stabbing mason’s heart because jasmine was always the warmer one between them. she was being ruthlessly cold and distant and her tone was so level it scared him. “dad raised you better than to keep a mistress. it never ends well and we all know she’s always up to no good.”

how could jaz be the judge of one’s personality, when she’d never met elena before? what did she know about elena?

mason gritted his teeth out of annoyance. “I can’t do that.”

“you can’t do that to serena, either. it’s not fair.”

serena again? did the princess pull off some black magic over his family or something? why did everybody suddenly care for her instead of him, their flesh and blood? how come no one in his side went to care for him now?

fucking hell, mason had never desired to scream out loud. at anyone, but preferably at his own kin. “lately, I think life’s never fair to me, too.”

“life’s never fair to anyone, mason mount,” mason had never been called by full name twice in a night from different older siblings of his. if stacy decided to do the same in the next hour, mother nature should give mason a prize or something for hitting a homerun. “when are you going to learn that?”

“why are you siding with serena?”

“I am not,” jasmine’s eyebrows distorted in disbelief. “I swear I’m not siding with anyone here, but you really should start thinking like a father. your baby’s coming in less than 6 months, do you think what you’re doing right now is fair to your baby?”

the older took the following silence as a sign she’d nailed the coffin. which could only mean her job here was done and over with.

“jaz,” but mason’s call halted her straying steps from him. “how do you know?”

“you reek of cheap perfume, mase.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while jasmine’s words rang true in his ears, it still didn’t soothe his anger and annoyance towards the woman sitting shotgun beside him, as he cruised his Lamborghini in the direction back to London.

“why did you come here?”

serena immediately decided she’d choose a cocky mason over this version of him. “I thought—”

“see, that’s your problem. you think,” mason raise a decibel to his voice and serena flinched visibly because she wasn’t used to anyone raising their voice at her. it was rather off-limit to the royal’s etiquette. “but every time you think, you only think for your own good. you never think about what I think or what’s best for us.”

serena was rather taken aback at mason’s outburst that she couldn’t produce any response to him.

“have you ever thought you can jeopardise our false pretence by coming here alone?”

“no, I—”

“exactly!” serena flinched away from mason as the footballer hit the steering wheel out of frustration and anger. “so don’t ever fucking think again, you got me?”

suddenly her fingers looked so much interesting than ever before. “I’m sorry, mason.”

“you better fucking be,” mason sighed deeply. “if you still want to live.”

how could serena possibly have a decent reply when he reminded her that she was on the losing end?

next chapter contains:

“mason…” his lover whimpered, trying to reach for mason but the man only shook her hands away and stood up, towering her over. “surely you’re mistaken, we can talk about this–” “leave.”

#oh-saints writes #mason mount #mason mount x oc #mason mount angst #mason mount series #mason mount fics #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount imagines #mason mount blurbs #mason mount drabbles #footballer x oc #footie fics #footie fanfic

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blackboxfaxes · 8 months

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Battle Report: House Kurita vs Word of Blake, Rematch

For the second campaign turn in a row, Kote Lance came under attack by the Blakists' lead Assault element - a Highlander, an Awesome, and a Crab, all heavily customized. Kote Lance was busy repairing after their last engagement with the Blakists - Raine's Marauder was already active, but Kimiko's Blitzkrieg, Casey's Black Knight, and Heather's Blackjack had to make rolls to emergency start. None of them booted up turn 1, as Raine moved her Marauder up, the other side of the field covered by the Raiden squad usually assigned to Heather.

The Tonbo at the bottom of the image is just set dressing, and the clear acrylic circles are all woods.

>[Reactor online. Weapons online. Sensors online. All systems nominal.] Heather's Blitzkrieg was, true to form, the first mech to activate, rolling a 10+ on turn 2, and she immediately set out to punish the Blakists' Crab for pushing forward, loosing a pair of Ultra AC20 shells on it, neither of which connected, but they certainly let the Blakists know she was there. Raine exploited a heavy woods, keeping her covered as she traded PPC blasts with the Blakists' custom Awesome. It also mounted a Gauss rifle, which she had only one answer for...

>Glad you ladies joined the party. Now, let's deal with our uninvited guests. That answer was the Gauss rifle mounted on Heather's Blackjack, as she leapt to the top of her repair facility, relying on the Jumping Jack ability to keep her accurate, she joined Raine in pouring fire down on the Awesome. Casey, as always, ran her Black Knight out of her mech bay on MASC, screaming the Coordinator's name, daikatana held high.

>Hey, Kimiko, how's your uppercut? With the enemy Crab having moved to the very cliff's edge, and wanting to avoid taking fire from the Awesome and Highlander, Heather saw an opportunity, and ran directly under the Crab, blocked from the other two mechs by the cliff's edge, and fired a pair of shells straight up into the Crab's forward-protruding fuselage. One shell connected, shredding the armor on the Crab's left torso and staggering it, while Heather, Casey, and Raine focused the Awesome.

>I'm gonna getcha Combined fire from those three mechs knocked the Awesome flat as it reached the cliff. The Crab retreated, and Kimiko, seeing herself threatened, pumped the breaks and streaked halfway across the field, aiming to flank around the Blakist formation. The Raiden squad, almost forgotten, saw a golden opportunity, and jumped for the Awesome.

>Alright, let's do this The Battle Armor weren't the only ones to see an opportunity. As the Awesome lurched to its feet, Casey's mech kicked its MASC in, for once not failing the roll, and reached point blank with the Awesome. The only problem with this idea was that it left her in full view of every enemy mech, and all of them focused fire on her exclusively. This put enough firepower into her to knock her flat, costing her her chance to use her hatchet, and getting the Awesome to stomp on her arm for good measure.

>Think we can handle this on our own? Kimiko's Blitzkrieg steamed and buttered the Crab with a second AC20 shot in the left torso, disabling its XL engine and leaving her open to move on the enemy Highlander. Meanwhile, Casey got up, and once again took all the fire from the Blakists, and then fell over AGAIN despite her piloting skill of 3. This time, however, the Blakist Awesome also fell. Now it was the Battle Armor's time to shine, and they jumped on their victim, going for the swarm.

>[deranged screaming that suddenly cuts off] Casey, having failed to connect with a melee attack and lost ninety percent of her armor, decided discretion was the better part of valor. The Blakist Highlander, under attack by a Blitzkrieg, contemptuously swatted it away with a gauss rifle and a PPC shot to the same torso section, taking it from untouched to disabled in two shots. The Awesome, however, tried to stand up. Perhaps struggling because of the battle armor clinging to it, it rolled a 3 when it needed a 4, fell on its arm, critted its arm, detonated the gauss rifle mounted there and electrocuted the pilot, who blacked out. The Raiden squad were of course delighted, and moved in for the kill. At this point, the Blakists conceded. While I was down to essentially one untouched and two half combat-effective mechs, he was down to one, and called it early rather than lose his Awesome. Each of us salvaged our own mechs and rescued our own pilots, leading to no lasting material changes to either side.

#battletech #mechwarrior #battletech battle report #battle report #miniature wargaming #house kurita #word of blake #comstar #tabletop wargames #tabletop wargamging #tabletop miniatures #miniatures

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alyshiba · 1 year

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Lilagon hen zaldrizoti

Part four: The Crown

Read on Ao3

Summary: AU where Visenya, Rhaenyra's only daughter lives and is born as her eldest child. To all of Westeros she is seen as the only trueborn child of Ser Leanor and Rhaenyra, but in truth her father happens to be Deamon.

Warning: description of death

Author’s note: As promised we finally get some more Aemond.

Should anyone wish to be notified when I post a new chapter, I can totally add you to the taglist at the end.

Now that each of you reading this nonsense I’m wiriting have all of my love <3

The morning breeze on Dragonstone had always smelled of sea, salt and of the lingering scent of flowers and pines coming from Aegon’s Gardens. It was comforting and it had always helped Visenya sooth her nerves: it smelled like home.Therefore waking up with the knowledge that she had to leave not knowing if or when she could be back to the place that had been home to her for the most part of her life was gut wrenching. Whatever dread she felt walking into the new life that awaited in King’s Landing had been overshadowed by the feeling of leaving behind everything that had made her feel safe and carefree for so long.

Balerion sensed and shared her emotions, nobody could deny it. It was evident in his silence, which was odd for his character, in the way he slowly crawled out from the caves beneath the castle where he nested and perhaps in even in his eyes, for they also shared a sense of fear: both of them knew that out in the open Visenya was safe and protected, but inside the Red Keep Balerion couldn’t come to her rescue if she needed it.

So now they found themselves in the grounds just outside the keep, looking each other in the eyes in silent acceptance of the Princess's fate. She slowly walked over to her dragon, waited for him to lower his shoulder allowing her to climb up, and settled quietly on the saddle, <<;Naejot dārys tegorīr>>* she simply whispered as Balerion jumped in the air and took off heading west.

*To King’s Landing.

The flight was short. It took considerably less time to cross the distance between Dragonstone and King’s Landing on dragonback then it did by ship, so Visenya had stayed behind while her family, the Queensguard and all of the Lords and Ladies who had been on their island-fortress boarded and sailed on the Velaryon fleet towards the mainland. Rhaenyra had decided to be seen by her people taking her rightful place as Queen in the most peaceful way possible, to silence any and all talks about a bloody war being fought on her demand. Visenya and Daemon strongly disagreed, but ultimately had to bow to their Queen’s orders. The only agreement they had found without arguing regarded Balerion: he was the Conqueror’s mount, the one token of legitimacy the greens didn’t have, so they agreed that he must be seen on their side. So that is why Visenya was currently flying straight towards the sept built on her namesake’s hill.

The closer they got to the sept the more people they saw in the streets. When they reached their destination, the Princess had her dragon circled the area twice to be sure she was seeing right: so many people had gathered to witness her mother’s coronation that the masses of people occupied all of the streets that converged on the hill. It looked almost like the hill itself was being besieged on all sides.

A good portion of the plaza, which was the biggest in the whole city, had been kept empty to allow enough space for Balrion to comfortably rest during the ceremony. As they began their descent she noted her family’s dragons flying lazily around. They were ordered to keep far not to frighten the people, but close enough to deter any attack.

Balerion landed with a thud and reluctantly allowed her to climb down from the saddle. As Visenya touched the ground of King’s Landing for the first time in many moons she quickly smoothed her clothes and straightened her back. She was wearing a long black velvet surcoat that hid her leather riding breeches. The coat had a high neck and long sleeves, and even though it hugged tightly her womanly forms it was modest enough for the holy grounds she found herself walking on. Once the Princess had decided she had smoothed out all the wrinkles her surcoat might have had, she went to nervously fix her hairs, which she had spent hours knotting in a thigh braid that went from the top of her head to almost her waist. Once she found nothing more to fix Visenya had no other choice than to take a long breath, raise her head, swallow down any worry she was feeling and start walking towards the entrance of the sept where her whole family was gathered.

Once she had climbed each step the Princess was immediately greeted with the sight of her mother: Rhaenyra was wearing a lavish red silk gown studded with gemstones and pearls, with a high neckline and long sleeves. All of her jewelry was a mix of gold and rubies, and on a cushion right behind her she could see the crown that had been worn by Viserys and Jahaerys waiting to adorn the Queen’s head.

Her father was at Rhaenyra’s right, standing at just one step behind to remind everyone, if it was ever needed, that it was his wife that was ascending the throne. All of her brothers and cousins stood on the left, close to Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys Velaryon. All were surrounded by the five members of the Queensguard whose loyalty they were sure of.

Still it was neither of those people whose sight had frozen Visenya where she was. It was seeing for the first time since Storm’s End her uncle Aemond, standing quietly on a corner of the balcony that led to sept’s entrance staring right at her.

He was covered in leather garments like all of the other times she had seen him: black breeches and a black buckled doublet. No sword was strapped at his waist, as she expected and of course his eyepatch was covering the sapphire she now knew was nestled in his missing eye socket. Visenya resumed her walking and took her place on her mother’s left side, constantly feeling Aemond’s single eye glued on herself.

The ceremony was long and boring, Visenya wondered how Daemon had succeeded in tolerating the endless hours in which the High Septon had blabbered about the Gods and virtues and whatnot without comments, laughs or grimaces, she was sure he was sleeping upright, there was no other explanation. After what felt like a lifetime the High Septon asked her mother to kneel and anointed Rhaenyra with the sacred oils, <<may the Warrior give her strength>>, he began, <<may the Smith land strength to her sword and shield>> continued the old man with a moment of uncertainty, <<may the Father defend her in her need, may the Crone lift her lamp and shine her way to wisdom>>. The High Septon then delicately grabbed the golden crown of Viserys the peaceful, placed it on the Queen’s head and bid her to rise.

<<All hail Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first of her name. The rightful and lawful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm.>> There was a long moment of silence before everyone knelt to the new monarch. Visenya turned for a moment to see Ser Edric giving a small nudge to Aemond who kept standing, while the knight quickly kneeled and bowed his head.

She rose when she felt her mother’s warm hand on her shoulder, <<Rise Visenya>> she said in her loud and firm tone, <<Princess of Dragonstone and heir to Iron Throne>>. It was official now, she thought, swallowing down the lump of nervousness formed in her throat.

There was a moment of silence before cheers erupted from the mass of smallfolk gathered, which then spread to the High Lords and Ladies who stood at the base of the staircase. They were separated from the common people by the city watch who was, to Deamon’s delight, still as loyal to him as when he was called Prince of City.

Rhaenyra then took a step forward, she gave herself a moment and then turned towards Aemond, <<brother>>, she called him, and everyone fell silent at once. But it was not a silence of respect or reverence: every single present was holding their breath, for that single moment had the potential to start the most terrifying war ever seen, or end it before it even began. It was all in the hands of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Aemond walked towards his sister, fearless and defiant, as Visenya had expected him to be. He bowed his head without question, for he had always been smart enough to understand when to fight and when to comply and accept his fate.<<My first act as Queen will be to honor our father’s will>> Began the Queen, her tone calm, firm and cold, <<it was ever King Viserys’ wish to see our family united, and it was with this in mind that in his last act as King, before his passing, he decreed your betrothal to my daughter and heir, Visenya>>, as her mother was speaking, with the corner of her eyes the Princess saw her father stiffening and moving his hand towards the hilt of Darksister. Visenya held her breath and prayed to anyone listening that her father would keep his calm and see reason. <<Kneel, brother. Swear your fealty to your lawful Queen and within the week you will be wed to Visenya, and when the time comes you shall rule by her side.>> Aemond waited a long moment before reacting, she was sure he was weighing his options, but ultimately kneeled without saying a word out loud.

Rhaenyra bid her brother to rise, placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek, like a mother would a son. It was an unexpected gesture which caused the common folk to erupt in cheers once again, all the while Aemond stood still, confused. The Queen then gestured him to take his spot by Visenya’s side, which he quickly did.

Aemond stopped right in front of her, on his face the same expression he had that night in Storm’s End, he gently took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. To everyone it looked like a romantic gesture surely, and perhaps it was for the best since they had to show unity, but the Princess knew that her uncle meant to reclaim ownership over her. She met his eyes with a smile, and when he took his place to her right and offered his arm for her to take, she politely did. Visenya would be the image of the perfect, dutiful betrothed and wife as long as the eyes of Lords and smallfolk alike were on them. But she would not be a pretty doll to be toyed with and owned.

They both did not pay much attention to Rhaenyra’s speech, both too immersed in their own thought and machinations, but they were brought back to reality the moment Ser Harrold Westerling appeared on top of the steps of the sept’s entrance balcony at the head of a small group composed by the Queen dowager, Aegon, Helaena and their children and Daeron. She felt Aemond stiffening his muscles and for a moment she allowed herself to be empathetic towards him: a powerless witness to his family’s fate.

She took a moment to look at them: Aegon had an old scarring wound on a cheekbone, his eyes had evident dark circles and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, if it was in fear of being assassinated of for the burdens of the crown she’ll never know. Helaena was holding a baby in her left arm, a boy who was clinging to her, and keeping two other children close to herself. She didn’t look scared as her children were, maybe she hoped that her half sister took pity on them and would spare her and the babes. Behind her was the teenage boy Daeron who was helping his sister in keeping the children calm. As soon as the group stopped in front of Rhaenyra Alicent moved toward her only daughter and the kids, to protect and comfort her as best as she could, even if the Princess knew there was no need. Their blood would not be spilled.

<<You have received and accepted my terms of peace>> Began Rhaenyra, looking straight at her childhood friend, <> the Queen was brief and her voice never faltered. Helaena was the first to bow, gently nudging her twins to do the same: it was the act of a mother willing to do anything to protect her children. When Rhaenya bid her to rise and welcomed her as she did with Aemond she felt all of the tension leave her uncle’s arm. Visenya then noticed how his sight never left his sister, and former queen, or her children. She took note and turned back on the other member of their family.

Daeron and Alicent quickly followed Helaena’s example, but they never dared look at Rhaenyra's face, unlike Helaena who had smiled at her almost warmly. At last Aegon kneeled, unclasped Blackfyre from his hips and left it at Rhaenyra’s feet. When he rose the Queen placed her hands on his shoulders <<my brother>>, she told him, <> her mother was giving her own half brother the chance to get out of that all ordeal with his honor still intact. He would be seen as a fool, but a victim. Not a willing usurper. <<Someone who had used you as a tool against your own will>> Aegon looked at his sister in the eyes then, just before turning his eyes towards his mother, a gesture that to Visenya meant more than any words. <> Concluded the Queen, who kissed and hugged Aegon just as she did with her other half siblings. He must have never been hugged before, the Princess thought, for it was clear from his expression that Aegon didn’t know how to respond to his sister’s gesture.

<<There are those however>> Said Rhaenyra as Daemon started to stretch the muscles of his neck, <<that cannot be pardoned, and whose crimes must be punished>> as she finished her last sentence, Ser Harrold climbed the stairs once again, this time pushing in front of him Lord Otto Hightower and Ser Criston Cole, the lord commander of Aegon's Kingsguard. Behind them stood the remaining two members of the guard that had remained in the capital.

<<Lord Otto Hightower, you had faithfully served my father and his predecessor loyally and the best of you abilities for many decades>> She began as Daemon allowed a mocking laugh to escape his lips, <<your treason had deeply wounded me, for I had always seen you as a man whose loyalty and virtues were to admire>> as her mother kept speaking the Rogue Prince moved closer, a predator stalking his prey. How long had he waited for that moment? Visenya wondered, years? Decades? She didn't know for sure. <<You conspired to usurp my throne, to murder me in cold blood alongside my children, used my own family and blood as pawns to fulfill your greedy desire for power>> Rhaenyra's tone grew more enraged as she listed the former hand's crimes, <<for those crimes I Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, first of my name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm sentence you to death>> the Queen closed the distance that separated her from Otto, took the hand pin from his doublet and walked back a few steps, to try and avoid the blood sprays Visenya thought, <<one cannot usurp what is rightfully his>> yelled the former hand in an attempt to win the crowd’s favour towards his and his grandson’s cause. <<Aegon is the firstborn son of the King, the succession changed the day he was born. He was crowned with the Conqueror’s crown and he bore his swords and name, he is the rightful heir.>> Continued the Lord, Visenya felt the weight of the real crown which she had still hidden in the inner pockets of her clothes. Otto was trying a pathetic last stance to perpetrate his grandson's cause. <<Crowns and swords can be stolen>> Said Daemon unsheathing Darksister, <<dragons however cannot, and the Conqueror's mount, Balerion refused him, he bowed to your lawful Queen’s heir instead>> said her father preparing to strike, as the huge black dragon stood silent and vigil. Visenya spared a moment to look at the crowd that gathered: what could they be thinking seeing two coronations happening in the span of a few moons? Would doubt insinuate in their minds? After all twenty years had passed since her mother had been named heir, and even then only a handful of High Lords were present, certainly none of the hundreds of thousands of people gathered here today could remember or even know of that event. So she quietly unclasped her harm from Aemond's grip, walked over to where her parents stood, and carefully extracted the coronet from the inner pockets of her surcoat. <<This Lord Hightower>> Said Visenya, raising the crown high so that everyone could see it, <<is the valyrian steel and ruby crown that my namesake placed on her brother and husband, the Conqueror, head when she named him King of all Westeros and protector of the realm>> she never once moved her stare from Otto's eyes, for she felt the strong urge to see the defeat in eyes. <<Whatever crown you placed on my uncle's head was a forgery, just like the lawfulness of his claim to the throne>> Daemon laughed, and stretched his hand towards her, to better admire the family relic, she placed the crown in his hand and stood as both her parents silently shot her questioning looks. She would have explanations to give.

Otto Hightower’s head was rolling at her feet before anyone could say another word. She looked at it for a moment. Visenya should have felt victorious then, after all the mind which orchestrated the plan to usurp her mother’s birthright was rolling on the ground, and would quickly be followed by the heads of all of those who had any part in the ordeal. But as she turned to walk back to her betrothed she couldn’t shake the feeling that their troubles had just begun.

She was deep in this thought when Criston Cole’s head rolled close to Otto’s, and when Ser Lorent Marbrand chose an honorable death instead of pardon, or when Ser Errik’s twin finally bent the knee and swore his oath to protect her mother and her family. She looked at Aemond for a moment, his gaze had never once moved from Helaena and her children.

—

Aemond’s quarters were clean and tidy to Visenya’s surprise, she expected his rooms to be a mess like her brother’s, but thank the Gods she was wrong. At least she wouldn’t have to live in a dirty messy stable like Jace and Luke happily did.

She had used the servants' corridors to get to her uncle’s apartments, and judging by the silence and the unlit candles he wasn’t there, as she wished. The Princess used the time she had to take a look around, there were books piled on a desk, some of which in High Valyrian: histories, medicine, and so forth. Everything looked new, clean and untouched, either Aemond used his quarters just to sleep or he was an order maniac. Once she was done prying in his things, opening cabinets and drawers she sat on the lounge chair by the lit fireplace and she waited for her future husband, under the protective and judgemental eye of Ser Edric Dayne.

They didn’t wait for long. <<Good evening, my love. Should I start calling you that ?>> She called using her sweetest tone. Upon hearing her voice Aemond turned in her direction, his hand went instinctively to where his sword would have been, if he hadn’t had to relinquish it at the gates of the Keep. None of those whose loyalty was at question were allowed to hold weapons.

<<;Princess>> Purred Aemond, hiding his surprise, <;<can you not wait for our wedding day?>> joked the one-eyed prince fully turning towards her, then he noticed the knight standing in the shadows behind her, <<or have you come to free yourself of our marriage agreement?>> she smiled, serving herself with the wine she brought from her own chambers. She poured a cup for Aemond as well and signaled for him to sit on the other lounge chair.

<<Why is it so odd to wish to know my betrothed better before our wedding?>> She smiled sardonically as he approached the chair wearily. Edric then rudely pushed Aemond down so that he was now sitting, her uncle then accepted the goblet of wine that she offered him. There was a long silence before she spoke again, <> Visenya spat now in a serious tone. Aemond smirked, he made to bend and move closer, ready to spat a response, he was resting his elbows on the wooden short table that separated them, when Edric placed one of his strong hands on his shoulder. He began to pull him back when the Princess stopped him with a gesture. She then mimicked her uncle and future husband's posture, so that they were now only inches apart. <> Visenya whispered, moving one strand of hair from Aemond’s face, just like he did in Storm’s End to her, <> She sweetly said resting her hand on his cheek, <<you however do need me: to have a chance to rule the Seven Kingdoms by my side, to make sure your head stays on your shoulders and to keep your children safe>> she basked for a moment in the look of silent dismay on his face, before kissing his lips and leaving him on his chair by the fire.

The trek back to the apartments that had been made ready for her were quiet. Only when they were at a safe distance did Ser Edric Dayne stop right in front of her, blocking her path, <<you will not arm innocent children>> he said looking at her in the eyes, his tone was firm, angry and resolute, the voice of one of the few men in this city that had a shed of honor. <> Visenya angrily retorted, not leaving his stare, <<seven hells, I do not even know if those children are actually Aemond’s bastards. But I must have some leverage on him if I want to survive long enough to sit on that throne, when my mother will pass>> it was a challenge to keep her tone low and inaudible by any other who might venture in the servants corridors.

Ever since they journeyed back to Red Keep she couldn’t shake the thought of Aemond’s constant stare towards Helaena and her children. He never once spared a look to his brothers, he briefly showed a look of concern towards his mother, which was understandable, but during the entire time Helaena and the kids had been in sight he never stopped staring at them. And Visenya was sure that it wasn’t simply the devotion and worry of an uncle towards his infant niece and nephews.

<<If you haven’t noticed I am a woman>> She explained to a puzzled Queensguard, <<useless from the moment I will give him a male heir>> Ser Edric was a man, a Lord’s second son, never in his life had he worried with the hardships women had to face in that world. <<If I do not take matters in my own hands I will find myself in the afterlife the moment I will birth him a healthy and living son, for then he and his family won’t need me anymore to get back on the throne>> With that last sentence she pushed her knight aside and sprinted towards her chambers.

Author’s note: It seems that the show had cut Maleor, the younger son of Aegon and Helaena. Which should be 1/2 years old if I'm not mistaken (correct me if I'm wrong)...I added him back.

Then since I got a couple of comments on Ao3 so I feel like maybe I should clarify some things:

Regarding Aemond and Visenya’s relashionship.. if she was a real HoTD/ASoIAF character, probably didn't really grow up together, they likely never spent time together as children.

In the show for instance, we got several scenes of the boys training or messing around together (mostly bullying poor Aemond), while Helaena was never with them, becouse in the GoT/HoTD/ASoIAF universe (and as in real medieval times) girls get brought up differently (sering, septas etc..).

On top of that you have to consider that they are on opposide sides when it comes to supporting who they believe is the rightful monarch, AND Aemon tried to maim Visenya's brother by taking out his eye.. so they do not hate eachother, but they also don't have a relationship at this point. They don't know eachother.

They can feel attracted fo sure, but love takes time.

Regarding Helaena's children, I'm going to stick with the theory that they might be Aemond's. I'm not saying that they are nor the contrary at the moment.

Taglist: @hawsx3

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bvidzsoo · 1 year

Text

Pure-blooded (Part 2)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warnings: the use of the word ‘bastard’, nothing else so far

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x oc

Word count: 8997

Summary: A story about a girl called Vaella Velaryon, who after more than six years, returns to King's Landing due to her brother, Luke, being questioned about his right as heir of Driftmark, and she meets Aemond. A changed man. A vicious man who is set to have his revenge, unknowing that Vaella would do anything for her family.

A/N: well, well, well...I outdid myself on this one, this part wasn’t supposed to exist, but my bestie asked me to write of the siblings bonding time so uhm- this part happened. Next part will have some violence, so get ready for that, and also I will only post it next week because this week will be busy for me. If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! I hope you enjoy this part and don’t be shy, share your thoughts with me, I love reading them! Happy reading now!

Taglist: @depressedperson88

↳Previous Part

The siblings had made a ruckus in the kitchen of the Red Keep as Vaella and Luke ran around, clumsily each grabbing a bowl to fill with the snacks they stole. Jace remained in the doorway, holding the door open for his siblings, as they avoided crashing into anyone and tried to escape the chef’s angry hands trying to grab at them. Vaella was laughing loudly as a servant tried to grab at her, but she swiftly ducked and slid towards the door, shouting at Jace to open it wider as Luke came running behind her with a scared expression as he was being chased by a very angry chef, who was holding their butcher knife. Once the siblings were out in the hallway, their blood cursing with adrenaline, they glanced at each other before running for the dragon pit to mount their dragons with all the snack they had. They were loud as they dodged everyone in their way, not even bothering to apologize when they ran into a lady and almost made her topple over. They didn’t care about the judgmental looks from those who recognized who the they were, their only goal was to get to their dragons before their parents would be alerted of their mischievous deeds. Back at Dragonstone, the servants and chefs, stopped saying anything to their parents after a while as they realized the children only did this to break free from their crushing roles and earn a little freedom over their actions. Of course, Vaella was the one who initiated this little tradition of theirs, and as Jace and Luke were really young when she convinced them to join her, they absolutely loved the idea, and begged their sister from then on to steal snacks and ride their dragons to the island twice every week.

They arrived to the dragon pit quite quickly as they were running, weaving through the people with laughter escaping their lips. There, they tried to catch their breaths before searching for their dragons. A big grin broke out onto Vaella’s lips when she spotted Silverwing and she rushed up to him, petting its scales around his neck. Her dragon let out a low grumble of appreciation and allowed Vaella to mount him. She secured the bowl between herself and the edge of the saddle and instructed Silverwing to walk outside and then take its flight. The take-off was always a bit shaky and harsh for the two of them, but after a while, Vaella got used to it and learned to brace herself tightly against her dragon’s saddle. She almost flew off once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl. As her dragon rose towards the white clouds, Vaella looked down and admired the people and constructions getting smaller and smaller. When she arrived to King’s Landing she didn’t have the opportunity to admire the landscape as she was full of fury and was only concentrating on landing as fast as possible at the Red Keep. But now, she allowed herself to relax on Silverwing as she straightened her back and gazed around her, waiting for her brothers to show up. And soon, one by one, Luke on Arrax and Jace on Vermax, they appeared on Vaella’s sides, keeping a safe distance between their respective dragons. Vaella grinned and waved at her brothers, who did the same, and motioned for them to follow her. She had the route to the meadow engraved in her memory and couldn’t wait to get there. She had missed it. Silverwing rose higher up in the sky, letting out a loud screech as he realized too which way they were going. Vaella smiled and patted the dragon’s scales, muttering to him ‘Sȳz valonqar’ (good boy). Her brothers were hot on her tail, and she heard laughter from behind as Luke’s dragon playfully flew over and then underneath Jace’s, playing with Vermax in the air. Jace laughed as well, but kept Vermax focused on following Silverwing as he promised his dragon that he could play with Arrax once they have landed. Silverwing suddenly changed direction and started plunging towards the earth, the wind hitting Vaella’s face harshly, but she was used to it. Silverwing enjoyed plunging towards the earth when he had to land, despite scaring his rider to death more than once before. Vaella hated it at first, and realized her dragon was only doing it because he could feel her fear through their bond, and so kept on doing it, until they both became used to it and started genuinely enjoying it. Arrax and Vermax followed Silverwing closely, however, they were careful in their descend as Jace and Luke watched their sister horrified, never having seen Silverwing do this before. They thought he had gone mad, that is, until, he suddenly opened his wings and started graciously floating towards the earth. Luke cradled his own bowl close to his chest as Arrax let out a shriek, landing first in the meadow. Its tail brought a few trees down, making the earth rumble, as Silverwing and Vermax followed suit in landing, but somewhere where there were no trees. Vaella started laughing as she watched her brother approach them with an embarrassed expression, and Jace wasted no time in starting to tease him.

“Look at you!” He exclaimed, jumping off his dragon and running up to Luke, “Eager to land first, eh? That is what happens when you get greedy—”

“I was not being greedy.” Luke snapped, and shot Jace a glare when his big brother tried to ruffle his hair, “And help Vaella down, her hands are full.”

Vaella chuckled as her brothers turned to look at her, making Jace take off towards her, to take the bowl full of snacks from her hands. Vaella carefully got off from her dragon, who helped her with its wings.

“Nyke jāhor ivestragī ao klios tolī īlon tegon rȳ se mele lua.” (I will let you fish after we land at the Red Keep.) Vaella whispered to her dragon before turning to smile at her brothers, “The meadow is all ours!”

The two boys cheered as they started running around, the tall grass reaching their knees in some areas. Vaella watched them with a small smile on her lips as she let her hands run along the grass, feeling finally content and at ease. Being back at King’s Landing brought back many pleasant and unpleasant memories. She didn’t feel safe here. She was exposed to the family who wanted her head and her mother’s, and because of this, she had to be on high alert all the time. She was used to this as she is a soldier, but even they get tired after a while. It was mentally draining to her, and all she wished for was for the trial to be over, with Luke’s heritage being reinforced, and her returning to Dragonstone before flying off to Pentos. She hadn’t been home in over a moon, which felt like an eternity to her. She wished to spend some time with her mother, possibly be there for her when she’d give birth to her baby sister.

“Did you seriously not grab even one bar of chocolate, Luke?!” Vaella was brought out of her thoughts by Jace’s loud voice. The two brothers had plopped down onto the ground where the grass didn’t reach their knees, with hopes that it wouldn’t poke their eyes out.

“I wasn’t really looking at what I was taking, Jace—have you seen the chef chasing me with a butcher knife?!” Luke exclaimed outraged, making Vaella chuckle as she sat herself on the ground, looking at her two brothers with amusement on her face.

“I managed to grab some—” Vaella’s lips curled up in amusement as she leaned forward her own bowl, trying not to laugh, “peas. That can be a very healthy snack—”

Jace’s loud groan cut Vaella off and she rolled her eyes, grabbing a pea and throwing it at her ungrateful brother, “Luke is right, we didn’t have the opportunity to look at what we were taking, really. Those people were chasing us as if we were some animals.”

Luke started nodding with a pointed look at Jace as he started munching on some biscuits. They still managed to grab some good snacks, which weren’t peas, and Jace sighed, finally settling on a banana. Vaella had grabbed it by accident while aiming to take the chocolate bar, but the servant yelling at her had distracted her.

“Tell me, brother…” Vaella trailed off with a mischievous look on her face as she eased her hand inside the pocket of her pants, “Were you craving some chocolate?”

Jace’s face lit up as he forgot about the banana he was munching on and nodded his head eagerly, “Well then…have some.”

Vaella pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding two bars of chocolate. Her brothers eyes lit up as they both leaned forward, grabbing the chocolate from Vaella, as if their lives depended on it. She laughed quietly, shaking her head at them, as she grabbed Jace’s half eaten banana and took a bite of it.

“These are from Pentos?!” Luke exclaimed excited as he undid the wrapping of his chocolate. Vaella nodded her head and Jace gave her a big smile before devouring his chocolate, looking as if he had just eaten the best meal of his life.

“I had no idea you two loved chocolate so much.” Vaella scoffed as she looked at Luke, who had a little chocolate in the corner of his mouth, making Jace snicker at him.

“The chocolate you bring from Pentos is always tastier than the one the chefs make at Dragonstone.” Jace said as a matter of fact, and Vaella shook her head, glancing back at her dragon as he let out a loud sigh. Her dragon had curled up and laid on the ground, resting, as his eyes found its riders. Vaella smiled at him before looking around, seeing that Arrax and Vermax had fallen asleep, despite being in a playful mood while they flew over here. She wasn’t surprised that even their dragons felt tranquil in this little meadow. She had once fallen asleep, and if it wasn’t for the rain, she probably would’ve spent the night here, scaring her mother and father, Laenor, to death. Viserys would catch her flying away on her dragon more than once, and each time he inquired where she went, Vaella would just give him a cheeky smile before telling him that it was a secret and maybe one day she would show it to him. Now, knowing that he was sick and nearing the end of his life, she wished she could take the King here, offer him a little peace and freedom. Free from the claws of those monsters, the Hightowers.

“Sister,” Jace lightly touched her knee to get Vaella’s attention, “will you tell us of your time spent at Pentos—”

“Did you partake in another tourney?” Luke cut off his brother, eyes wide as he leaned forward. Vaella grinned at her brothers before leaning back, resting on the cold ground. She let her hands touch the grass, taking in the energies nature had to offer to her. It was so pleasant.

“Unfortunately, Luke, I could not partake in a tourney once again. They had caught onto my shenanigans, I’m afraid.” Vaella answered her brother with a chuckle, making the boy pout. Out of curiosity and boredom, Vaella would disguise herself as a man and take part in the tourneys organized in Pentos. She had skills, she was an excellent swordsman and she could ride a horse almost as well as her dragon. She would lie of her true nature, make up a name of a lord who lived in a small province close to Pentos, and thus charm all the ladies and anger all the lords and knights partaking in the event. There were times when she’d win and there were times when she’d lose. But each time she’d have ladies swooning over her by the end of the day, forcing her to reveal her true nature. The shock on their faces once she took her wig off was always amusing and it brought a sense of satisfaction to her. Rhaenyra was informed of her daughter’s questionable deeds as one of her knight’s was at Pentos during one of the tourney’s, and she couldn’t help but receive the news with laughter and a shake of her head, unsurprised of her daughter’s antics. After all, she was a younger copy of her late husband, Daemon, and she didn’t have much control over what her daughter did or didn’t while staying at Pentos. Rhaenyra trusted her that she wouldn’t do anything too stupid, thus, she wrote back to the knight, asking him to let her daughter be. Many lords egos and dignities’ had been hurt when Vaella disclosed her true self, starting small altercations, in which she gladly partook, knowing very well that no man had succeeded in defeating her. Well, besides her father, Daemon, who had taught her all of his knowledge. She had to yet defeat him; Daemon was waiting for that faithful day as well.

“Then did you partake in any adventures?” Jace asked eagerly, grabbing some peanut from Luke’s bowl. Luke and Jace were a bit disappointed that their sister had nothing funny to share connected to tourneys, they always looked forward to hearing about her tricks.

“I’m afraid not, brother,” Vaella smiled, closing her eyes as she stared up at the light blue sky, “My time spent at Pentos was rather tranquil and mild, compared to how I would usually spend my time there.”

Jace and Luke sighed in disappointment, sharing a glance, before following their sister and laying down onto the grass. Jace was a bit fidgety at first, scared of ants crawling onto him, but Luke found himself enjoying such mundane activity. He loved going to their secret little island, hearing the waves crash against the shore as he stared up at the blue clouds, but this meadow was a nice change. The quiet around them was surprisingly relaxing and he couldn’t help but relinquish in all the wild flowers around them and their scents as the breeze carried it to their noses. Luke could see himself coming here often if they were to live at the Red Keep. But he knew that would not happen anytime soon. And even if it did, that meant that his grandsire would be dead, and his mother would be Queen. He wanted that, he really did, but it made him so nervous when he realized he’d have to live here, with his uncles and their family. He knew the bad blood would never end between the two families, and it only brought a sour taste into his mouth, as he remembered the hearing would be tomorrow. Just a fool would believe the Hightowers would take their side. Luke knew, for certain, that his right as heir of Driftmark would be reneged tomorrow. He felt sad, perhaps he should’ve felt more outraged and angry, but he knew he wouldn’t be a great leader of the fleet. He tried to be brave and stand up to Ser Vaemond’s accusations, but after all, he was just a scared boy.

“I miss Ser Harwin Strong.” Luke found himself suddenly saying, lips in a tight line, as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. Jace and him weren’t stupid, they knew who their true father was. They never dared saying it out loud, because it would just prove what everyone else was accusing them of. They loved Laenor Velaryon, but Ser Harwin had done more for them, than their alleged father had. They couldn’t help it but miss Ser Harwin from time to time. Luke’s words made Jace tense up and he glanced at his younger brother, debating whether he should kick his foot or crack a joke and deviate from the subject, but Vaella beat him to it.

“I miss him too sometimes.” Vaella admitted out loud with a quiet sigh, opening her eyes to gaze at the white clouds. The sky was so beautiful today. Despite Ser Harwin not being Vaella’s father, he played an important role in her life. He protected her and kept her away from harm as a little girl and even taught her a little combat, fearing that she would have to protect herself if he weren’t to be around. As the years passed and she grew, her fondness for Ser Harwin only solidified as she saw how ferociously loyal he was to her mother and how good care he took of her brothers, and herself. On days when they had to stay inside the castle, Ser Harwin would play hide and seek with them, and sometimes, when it was late in the night and she couldn’t sleep, she would go to him and ask him to play dress up with her. Ser Harwin was quite surprised at Vaella’s request, but once agreeing to play with her, he was surprised of how much they found themselves laughing as Vaella tried to force Ser Harwin into a few of her mother’s clothes. Of course, Princess Rhaenyra started to catch on when her dresses in the morning would be misplaced or even torn in places, so she decided to follow her daughter and Ser Harwin one evening, only to find them laughing as Rhaenyra’s delicate dress only fit over Ser Harwin’s armored leg. She watched the two people with love in her eyes before turning around and returning to her chamber, content that her daughter and secret lover were so fond of each other, cradling her baby bump, as Jace was close to being born. Rhaenyra knew then and there, that Ser Harwin Strong will make a fine father.

Jace cleared his throat as he sat up, looking at his siblings with a frown. He didn’t wish to speak of Ser Harwin, finding it hard to speak of his dead father. He didn’t hold any resentment against him, but he wished Prince Laenor was his true father, then so many conflicts could’ve been avoided, “I saw uncle Aegon today, before I went to find Luke to head to the courtyard…”

Jace’s voice was loud as he trailed off and Luke winced, glancing at his brother, “Was he as cruel as Prince…Aemond?” He found it difficult saying his uncle’s name after today. He couldn’t lie, Aemond frightened him.

“I would not know,” Jace shrugged and tore a red wild flower off, “I only saw him from a distance, but apart from his obvious growth, he didn’t seem like he had changed much.”

“Why? Was he carrying a jug of wine?” Vaella mocked, as Luke started giggling before he sat up too, stretching his arms over his head. He was craving some grapes and was glad when he saw some in his sister’s bowl. Jace shook his head with an amused grin before tearing off another wild flower, a yellow one this time.

“Ye, he was holding something, ‘though I did not see what.” His answer made his siblings chuckle as they shook their heads. Apparently, Aemond was the only who had changed, and maybe Haelena, but they didn’t have the chance of meeting her yet.

“So,” Luke muttered, chewing his grapes, “Aegon seems not to have changed, but Aemond—” He shuddered as he said his uncle’s name, making Jace’s face instantly darken. He knew Prince Aemond represented a threat to them, his mere presence frightening.

“Uncle Aemond had always been a scared little boy, who would not stand up for himself, and just because his physique has changed, you shouldn’t let yourselves be intimidated by him, brothers.” Vaella’s tone was hard, and her brothers glanced at each other unsurely, before looking back at their sister.

“Yes, but—” Jace had gulped as his eyebrows furrowed, “you have seen him, Vaella. He’s—he’s looking—”

“Vicious.” Luke cut his brother’s words off, “And vile. And he hates us, sister, had you not seen the way he was looking at us? I do not think we should provoke him or anger him—”

“Oh, please,” Vaella has had enough of her brothers whining as she sat up, glaring at them, “Aemond is nothing but a man with a harsh exterior who still goes running to his mother, crying about the people who dared wrong him.”

Jace didn’t want to argue with his sister that her words weren’t quite accurate, and so, felt hesitant about speaking up. It was very obvious that Aemond had changed and wasn’t what he once was. Luke glanced at Jace with uncertainty before daring to open his mouth, “Princess Vaella, I think…I think you should be careful. Around uncle Aemond, I mean, I think, and Jace does too, that it’s best if you just…keep your head down while we stay at the Red Keep.”

Vaella scoffed and looked away from her brothers, shaking her head at them. Nobody could convince her that Aemond was the vicious man he seemed to be. When they were children, and before Alicent could get to her sons with her vile words, her and Aemond would stay in the library and read together fairytales of far-away lands. Each time they would finish the bedtime story, Aemond would sigh and whisper to Vaella that once they grew up they could go and live in a castle on a mountainside with their dragons, if his had finally hatched too. Vaella scoffed at the memory, flashes of a tall and dangerous looking Aemond invading her thoughts. He was different, she could tell, but she refused to acknowledge it just yet.

“Say what you want to say, brothers, you are free to speak your minds, but I shall never bow down to the Hightowers, no matter who tries to make me—” Vaella’s words were cut off as a dragon’s loud screech alerted them, making the siblings dragons stand up and look up towards the sky as if they sensed danger. Vaella, Jace, and Luke were on their feet, bowls abandoned as they rushed to their dragons, holding them and keeping them still. Vaella held the side of her dragon’s face as she looked up into the sky, gulping when she spotted the enormous dragon flying above them. It was Vhagar. And if Vhagar was here, so was Prince Aemond. Jace and Luke realizing the same looked at Vaella alarmed, unknowing what would be right to do.

“īlon umbagon syt zirȳla naejot henujagon.” (We wait for him to leave.) Vaella spoke up with authority, as her eyes remained glued to her uncle’s dragon, “Pār īlon return.” (Then we return.)

And that is how they proceeded. They waited for their uncle to be gone before mounting their own dragons to fly back to the Red Keep. Not wanting to ruin the lovely time they spent at the meadow, they continued to joke on the fly back and decided to race each other, curious to see who’s dragon would get faster to the dragon pit. Arrax was a fast dragon, so it wasn’t a big surprise as Luke beat his siblings to it and Jace had a feeling Vaella just let them win as he arrived as second on Vermax. And Jace was right, Vaella’s mood had been ruined the second they started talking about Prince Aemond, but she tried to hide it as she suggested them racing. However, Silverwing sensed her tenseness and took it easy, floating above the clouds and offering her a sense of calmness before they would land. Vaella instructed her brothers to wear the hoods of their cloaks as night was slowly falling, and she didn’t want any incidents as they had to weave through the people of King’s Landing before getting to the Red Keep. Vaella had her hood up as well, and despite wanting to blend in, it was only bringing attention to them. She wore her burgundy cloak for a reason, but sometimes it did not offer her the camouflage she needed. As they neared the entrance, two guards stepped forward and denied them access, that is until Vaella took off her hood, revealing her platinum blonde hair. The guards bowed their heads and wordlessly opened the gates for the siblings, Jace and Luke lowering their hoods as well as they waltzed inside the courtyard, lords and ladies glancing at them as everyone was headed inside the castle, the cold breeze of the evening drawing people inside their warm chambers. Jace and Luke were snickering about something behind Vaella, not paying attention to her nor towards the stairs, where their step-father, Daemon, was standing with his hands resting on his sword, legs crossed and head lowered as he watched Rhaenyra’s children approaching him.

“Father.” Vaella abruptly stopped, having held eye contact with Daemon the second they entered, making her brothers run into her back. Jace groaned and was about to inquire Vaella why she’d stop, but Luke nudged his shoulder with a panicked expression. Jace looked ahead and instantly tensed, watching an unamused Daemon slowly approaching them.

“Princess Vaella, Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys.” Daemon drew out the names of the children standing in front of him, backs straight and head held high, but Vaella was the only one holding his eye contact. Daemon tried not to smirk at his daughter’s defiance and show of power.

“Prince Daemon.” Luke and Jace had finally found their voices, once Daemon stood in front of them, both of them looking at the ground.

“Do you have no consideration for your mother’s well-being?” Prince Daemon’s voice was harsh as he scolded the siblings, “Disappearing from a place, without a word to your parents, in a land which does not favor us is rather foolish, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Vaella agreed, breaking the eye contact as she lowered her eyes to the ground, “I apologize, my Prince, it was my idea to take our dragons and fly for a bit—”

“Yes, I was not expecting it the other way around, Princess,” Daemon sighed and let his eyes rest on Jace and Luke, “I was told you raided the kitchen—”

“That was my idea, my Prince.” Jace tried to cover for his sister as he averted his eyes from Daemon, embarrassed, but also scared.

“And it was my idea to fly out to this meadow not far from here—”

“Luke!” Vaella snapped and glanced back at him with a glare, telling him to shut up. Only Rhaenyra and her knew of that place and she showed it to her brothers because she trusted them. She did not wish for her father to know about it. Luke smiled at her sheepishly and looked at the ground when Daemon chuckled.

“I know of that meadow, daughter, who do you think showed it to your mother?” Vaella’s eyes snapped back up at her father and she tried to hide her surprise. So all this time, both her mother and father knew of it. It made Vaella wonder how many times they visited that beautiful place.

“Well,” Vaella cleared her throat and glanced at her brothers before looking back at her father, “We apologize for disappearing unannounced, it was foolish of us.”

“Yes, very well,” Daemon nodded at them and sighed, placing his hands on his hips, “Now go and announce your mother that you all are back so that she stops worrying, quickly!”

Jace and Luke nodded eagerly, glad that they wouldn’t get punished, as they ran around Vaella and Daemon, stopping to wait for their sister at the top of the stairs. Vaella was about to walk away as well, but Daemon raised his hand, stopping her.

“Not you, Princess, we haven’t trained together in long.” Daemon said with a smirk and Vaella chuckled, looking at her brothers before waving.

“This late, father?!” Jace whined, wanting Vaella to go with them to their mother, knowing well that Rhaenyra wouldn’t shout at them if Vaella was there to mediate.

“ȳdra daor mazverdagon aōha muñnykeā umbagon syt longer, ziry jāhor mērī jiōragon madder.” (Don't make your mother wait for longer, she will only get madder.) Daemon sounded amused as Luke sighed and took Jace’s arm, quickly running inside the castle, not wanting to prolong their mother’s worry. Vaella chuckled at her father’s words and unclasped her cloak, the evening’s cold breeze getting to her. Daemon twirled his sword around as dusk settled on the kingdom, already wearing his armor. Vaella and him moved to the side of the courtyard to stay out of other’s way as they would train. Vaella went and grabbed an armor fit for her and put it on, getting familiar to the feel of it, as she unclasped her own sword from her hip, gripping the handle tightly in her left hand. She went and stood in front of Daemon, leaving a respectable space between them as Daemon started walking around her, yet Vaella stayed unmoving. She concentrated hard, listening to each of his father’s steps as he was behind her, and abruptly turned when she heard the slash of a sword in the air, rising to strike down on her. Vaella had her own sword up, blocking her father’s sword as she drew in a deep breath, striking once and twice, making her father step back in retaliation. Daemon smirked at her aggressivity and nodded his head at her, showing appreciation for her moves. Vaella paid it no mind as she jumped forward, bringing her sword towards her father as she attacked him this time, bringing vicious jabs against his armor with her sword. Daemon knew she was just playing around with him, having taught her that himself, so he started advancing on her, trying to sway her focus as his sword was blocked by hers again and again.

Vella and Daemon were fierce soldiers who had no problem playing with their adversary before gaining the upper hand and striking down on them. Usually their trainings would stretch out as they both took their time to attack, and tonight was no different. The courtyard was lit by torches as their swords clashed against each other, a few lords standing in the balcony, watching the father and daughter duel, as sweat covered their foreheads. Vaella was panting hard, her arms burning from the constant brute force she was using in her try of disarming her father, but it was futile. It seemed as if Daemon somehow always gained the upper hand and defeated her. It frustrated her, she wanted to show her father that she was capable of taking down anyone, but perhaps that day hasn’t come yet. With one blow, Vaella’s sword lay on the ground as Daemon had his pointed at her neck, chuckling when he saw his daughter’s fuming gaze staring daggers at him.

“You had gotten better, Princess.” Daemon said as he lowered his sword and picked up hers, handing it to her. Vaella took it with force, strapping it onto her hip as she sighed.

“And yet I wasn’t able to disarm you not even once, father, and we’ve been out here for hours.” Vaella voice was quiet as she undid her low bun, setting her hair free, as it reached the middle of her back. She had rather wavy hair and it got frizzy after wearing it in a bun all day, but that was her go-to hairstyle as it was easy to move around and fight, if needed.

“Do not fret, Vaella, you learn very quickly,” Daemon tried to reassure his daughter, “You picked up three new ways of attack tonight, daughter, you are good.”

“Good isn’t enough.” Vaella snapped as she helped her father undo the bindings of his armor, “I need to be excellent.”

“You already are.” Daemon whispered as Vaella stood in front of him. Her eyes found his and she looked away, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Despite Daemon not being around while she was a child, after her parent’s marriage, they had gotten close very quickly. It didn’t come as a big surprise as Vaella knew he was her real father, she yearned to know who he truly was. Rhaenyra had told her many stories of Daemon while she was growing up, and as a young girl, she had been so curious of this mystery man. Finally meeting him at Laena’s funeral came as a shock. Vaella could still remember the knot in her throat and her lungs refusing to take in air when she was forced to greet Daemon by her grandsire. Daemon’s eyes had widened, just slightly, but Vaella had seen it. Rhaenyra was biting her lip as she watched the exchange, and quickly fled the scene when Daemon turned to face her, face littered with a million of questions.

“You are Rhaenyra’s firstborn child, yes?” Daemon had asked Vaella once her mother departed, and she gulped, yet managed to hold his cold gaze.

“Yes, Prince Daemon.” Vaella had answered him, voice hard before she walked off, not knowing what to do with herself, until she spotted her brothers with their cousins. She decided to join them and share her condolences with the two girls, who were quietly crying into Jace and Luke’s shoulders, the boys awkwardly trying to comfort them. Daemon stood shocked as he watched the little girl, Rhaenyra’s firstborn, joining his daughters from Laena, and couldn’t help but think, how neither one of his daughters resembled him as much as Vaella did. His heart clenched and he knew he had to talk to Rhaenyra, ask her what was suddenly eating him alive. Vaella watched as the mystery man, who she looked so much like, stormed off, no surprise, to find her mother. Suddenly, in the young girl’s mind, everything started making sense. Why everyone looked at her with so much spite at the Red Keep whenever she said something harsh. Why people would whisper ‘bastard’ behind her back as she walked by them. And why, sometimes when the King would get drunk, would cup Vaella’s cheek and whisper Daemon’s name to her before stalking off, leaving her so confused. It all made sense now, and she couldn’t stop the few tears escaping her eyes as she hugged her two grieving cousins, offering them support like her brothers had done.

“Vaella, you are a woman like none other,” Daemon spoke up, bringing his daughter back into the present, as he took his armor off, “And you resemble your mother so much, the new and old Gods have truly blessed you—”

“Yet I don’t resemble her enough that people wouldn’t whisper bastard behind my back as a little girl growing up in this castle.” Vaella didn’t mean to be harsh, but she couldn’t help it. Being back here aggravated her, made her feel things she had been repressing for so long. She loved her father and mother, but she resented them for hiding the truth from her, for letting her feel confused for so long. She resented Daemon for not being there for her when she was scared, and had nobody to go to, a man, who would protect her. Prince Laenor was never there when she needed him most and in a perfect fantasy of hers, she imagined Daemon always being there for her.

“If I had known—if Rhaenyra would have told me, you know I would’ve been present in your life since the beginning—” Vaella cut him off with a loud sigh, looking above them, spotting the curious looking lords in the balcony looking down at them. They were talking quietly, but she was paranoid.

“But that wasn’t the case, father, and we can do nothing to change the past, we must accept it and move on. I’m trying to do just that, you should too.” Vaella’s words were firm as she stepped back from her father and started undoing the added leather for protection on her calves.

“Of course.” Daemon muttered and glanced up at the curious lords, sending them a glare before looking back at Vaella. They couldn’t have much privacy at this damned castle.

“Nyke gīmigon skoriot aōha pazavorve lays rȳ.” (I know where your loyalty lays at.) Daemon spoke up in High Valyrian, making sure no one but just the two of them would understand, “Yn nyke līs epagon lo ao jāhor nykeōragon ondoso aōha dāria daor matter se situation se outcome.” (But I must ask if you will stand by your Queen no matter the situation and outcome.)

Vaella stiffened and straightened her back, looking at her father fiercely, “Ao should feel ashamed asking such mirre hen issa!” (You should feel ashamed asking such thing from me!) She didn’t mean for her voice to raise, but she was outraged by her father’s foolish question.

“Rhaenyra iksos se mērī dāria nyke jāhor mirre support.” (Rhaenyra is the only Queen I will ever support.) Daemon saw no hesitation in his daughter, heard no hidden motives in her words. He knew he could trust her, but he needed to hear it. Nothing was certain anymore, and he couldn’t fight a war alone, without her on their side.

“Nyke feel ziry isse ñuha bones, tala, iā vīlībāzma iksis brewing.” (I feel it in my bones, daughter, a war is brewing.) Daemon sighed out, shaking his head as Vaella took off the other leather from her calf.

“Pār īlon kessa vīlībagon ziry.” (Then we shall fight it.) Vaella held her head high, bringing a proud smile on Daemon’s lips, “Se ērinagon ziry.” (And win it.)

“We shall.” Daemon repeated and walked up to his daughter, grabbing her shoulder. She looked at him with tired eyes, feeling her body begging her to take a hot bath and rest, tomorrow would be a straining day. Daemon smiled at Vaella before leaning in and kissing her forehead, wishing her good night, and departing to his chamber to rest for the night.

Vaella heaved a sigh and threw her leather protectors onto the ground roughly, pulling at her own bindings with no patience, wanting to be out of her armor. She didn’t care if the lords were still watching her, she was a soldier, not a gentle lady like those lords were used to seeing and being with. So, with a harsh tug, Vaella took her armor off herself and let it fall to the ground, making it clatter loudly. She couldn’t help but sigh out in relief, finally having the added weight off her, her muscles sore as she hadn’t fought in long while wearing armor. She had started mumbling about how Daemon kept her out here for too long, and now she couldn’t go apologize to her mother for going away unannounced, unaware of the approaching footsteps from behind her. She looked around, searching for her cloak as she wouldn’t leave without it, and the cold breeze of the night was making her sweaty skin shudder.

“Shouldn’t a princess be in her chambers at such late hour, niece?” Vaella went rigid as she stood up straight, recognizing the voice, and she turned around to face her uncle. Aemond was standing tall, not too far from her, as he took in her form, realizing she was wearing the same clothing from earlier today when they had seen each other for the first time in so long. Vaella didn’t wish to answer him, instead stared him down, making sure to glare at him, only amusing Aemond as her face wasn’t very clear due to the night, the torches weren’t strong enough to lit up well the courtyard.

Turning her back to him and snatching her cloak, finally having found it, she snapped at her uncle, “I was out training with my father, uncle.”

Aemond just hummed and watched her fumble with her cloak as she threw it around her shoulders, securing it around her neck. The deep burgundy of her cloak was irking Aemond’s eye as he looked back at his niece’s face, finding nothing but defiance on it. It made him smirk, he rarely met women who didn’t cover before him, frightened out of their minds, and actually held his gaze without ogling at his eyepatch. And why would Vaella do that? She was there that night, she saw it all, she saw him freshly wounded, and even dared to scream at him that he deserved it for trying to defend himself against her brothers, who had ganged up on him. It made Aemond’s blood boil as he let the memory overtake him.

“One last fight before you depart to your chamber, Princess?” Aemond’s lips curled at the ends as raised his right eyebrow at Vaella, watching her every move, analyzing her every reaction. Vaella sucked in a deep breath, suddenly her heart beating quickly at the question. Her muscles were burning, her arms barely able to raise after the hours she had done training with Daemon. She wanted to say yes and punch that smug look off of her uncle’s face, but as a well-mannered princess, she had to decline. It was unacceptable that she was out here, unchaperoned by one of her guards, despite not needing one, so late in the night. While she was with her father it was alright, but the lords still haven’t gone from their balcony, finding this exchange more intriguing than the training with her father, waiting to spread gossip the next day. So no, she had to say no.

“Good night, Prince.” Vaella slightly bowed her head as she brushed past Aemond. Despite there being plenty of space, she wanted to show him that she wasn’t afraid of a little challenge, she just had to protect her own image while at the Red Keep. Wouldn’t want to add fuel to the already lingering fire.

“Sepār hae ēdan suspected, ao ābrar jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon se challenge īlva vali, yn gaomagon ao mirre drējī iōragon bē syt yourselves?” (Just as I had suspected, you women love to talk and challenge us men, but do you ever truly stand up for yourselves?) Aemond’s words made Vaella stop so fast that she let out a quiet groan, her muscles straining. Her ears started ringing as her uncle’s words replayed in her mind, but she had enough self-control to will herself to move again.

“Iksā dekurūbare qrīdrughagon kesrio syt iksā zūgagon. Ao gīmigon nyke would defeat ao, niece.” (You are walking away because you are afraid. You know I would defeat you, niece.) Vaella tried not to see red in front of her eyes, but couldn’t. Not when Aemond was disrespecting her so casually and plainly. Her feet stopped and she took in a deep breath, feeling her chest rise and then slowly fall, as she let out that breath.

“Iksan daor zūgagon!” (I am not afraid!) Vaella couldn’t control the volume of her voice, she made the lords jump in the balcony with her loud shout, as she stormed back towards her uncle. He stood his ground, eyebrow raised as he watched his niece amused, suddenly red in the face after being accused by him of cowardly. Apparently, he still knew what to say to make her tick. Vaella had changed, but apparently, her temper and ego hadn’t.

“Se kesā sagon begging nyke naejot keligon.” (And you will be begging me to stop.) Vaella’s voice was grave as she stood, squaring up her uncle, staring up in his eye due to their close proximity. Aemond suddenly became serios, reaching up to undo the binding of his cloak.

“I take it we will fight then, niece.” He whispered, voice low yet so mischievous and challenging, it drove Vaella mad as she was fuming. She knocked her shoulder into his as she went back to her previous spot, where she had been searching for her cloak, and unclasped it, letting it fall onto the ground. She grabbed the hair tie off her wrist and messily tied her hair in a low bun, strands of hair sticking out in all directions, some didn’t even make it inside the bun, but she didn’t care as she drew her sword from its socket, holding it pointed towards Prince Aemond. He had abandoned his cloak as well, his own sword in his hand, as he came to stand in front of Princess Vaella.

“Will you not wear your armor, dear niece? Aren’t you afraid your perfect, fragile, skin might be cut—”

“I have fought battles without wearing armor, uncle, and I came out unscathed.” Vaella laughed, sarcasm dripping in her voice, “You should be the one afraid for their fragile, human skin.”

“You are forgetting I am a Targaryen myself, Princess.” Aemond snapped at the obvious jab of Vaella’s, wishing to slash her throat, but so far, they had been circling each other only, undecided who was the prey and who was praying on them.

“Half Targaryen, Prince.” Vaella’s voice was loud as she made sure even the lords would hear her and she could hear them whispering, oh, how sweet the gossip tomorrow would be, she couldn’t wait. Aemond had seemingly had enough of Vaella’s taunting and decided to strike first, aggressively and merciless, as his blow sent Vaella stumbling back. His force was amazing, Vaella imagined he was weaker as his tall, lanky body seemed to have less force than the actual he had in himself. She braced herself, willing her mind to ignore the burning of her muscles as adrenaline started rushing through her, making her smirk to herself. She saw Aemond trying to land another strike, so she jumped first, raising her sword and bringing it down on him, making Aemond hiss as he barely was able to deflect her blow. Vaella chuckled and bowed her head in a mocking apology, making Aemond strike again harshly, aiming for her legs, trying to throw her off balance. But it didn’t work as Vaella blocked each and every of his attacks, their swords clashing against each other loudly as both of them were grunting due to the force they were putting into the fight. And so, it was established, Aemond was the one who attacked and Vaella was the one who had to defend herself, from time to time, gaining a bit of advantage as she managed to corner Aemond with her strong blows, yet never managed to disarm him. It was becoming tiring and Vaella was starting to get frustrated as all she wished for was to fall into her puffy bed and let her body rest, but when Aemond managed to slice the sleeve of her shirt, it snapped her back from her body’s wants, and broke her patience. She was done playing the victim, defending herself from his ruthless blows. She took charge, going at him, and striking him from each and every side she could, twisting her body and making Aemond defend like he has never before. His long hair was getting in the way of his good eye as Vaella kept circling him and attempting jabs at him, and he was growing frustrated, wanting to disarm her to prove his point to her. But Vaella was just not letting him gain advantage and he could help but let out a frustrated cry as he jumped forward, making Vaella retaliate, as she didn’t see his sudden, stupid, attack coming. And because she was taken off guard, Aemond managed to knock the sword out of her hold, making her hiss when her wrist suffered the strain of the blow. He didn’t just knock the sword out of her hold, but ripped it out. Their chests were rising and falling quickly, both of them sweaty, and out of breath as they gazed into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to make the next move. Technically, Vaella had lost, but Aemond wasn’t making the final move, as if he couldn’t actually believe he had won. But he had, in his mind, at least. And with a smug smirk, he allowed his body to relax as he slowly started raising his sword from the ground to point it at Vaella’s neck. But this was exactly what Vaella was waiting for, and she almost laughed when in a swift movement, while raising her leg to knock it into Aemond’s wrist to knock his sword out of his hold, she also went and grabbed the dagger hidden inside her boot. When Aemond’s sword clattered to the ground he had no time to feel shocked or try to even retrieve it, because he found himself tackled onto the hard ground, grunting as the back of his head collided with the sandy concrete. He looked up at his niece as her body pinned his down against the ground, legs around his hips as she pushed all her body weight on him, and he gulped. This was something new. He had never been put down by a woman, let alone a light one as his niece, who had him struggling to stand up, yet couldn’t. His fidgeting came to a sudden stop when Vaella’s dagger was pointed against his neck, lightly pushing against his skin. He let out a breath, looking up at the Princess with an almost defeated look on his face. Vaella, well versed in hand-to-hand combat, knew how to keep a man pinned against the ground, and made sure she left no options that could help Aemond get up and continue their fight. Now, Vaella was the one who won, Aemond didn’t have a second weapon like she did. The fight was over. Won by her. She gazed into Aemond’s eye with smugness, pressing her dagger a bit more into his skin, raising her eyebrows at him.

“What do you say, uncle—” But her words got swallowed, when Aemond suddenly pressed his neck against her dagger, scaring her that he was trying to slice his own neck, making her draw it back just slightly, offering Aemond a small opening so that he could grab her other dagger out of her boot. Before she could register what had happened, she only felt her other dagger being pulled from her boot and she had her own dagger pressing against her neck, Aemond being the one with a smug smirk on his face this time. Vaella couldn’t mask her shock as her eyes ran all over Aemond’s face, trying to think of her next move, what she should do. However, she made the mistake of softening her body, not pressing Aemond against the ground with all of her weight anymore, offering him the chance to move around freely. And so, Aemond decided to sit up swiftly, holding Vaella close to himself by her middle, as they had her daggers pressing against each other’s throats.

“I say it’s a draw, niece.” His voice was low as he breathed out his words, the two of them so close they could feel each other’s breaths on their faces. Vaella’s mind had gone blank, she felt like she couldn’t breathe or think all of a sudden. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t help but notice how firmly Aemond was holding her against himself, how she felt his thighs tensing underneath her, how her eyes were suddenly on his curled lips. No, she must’ve been losing her mind. Aemond tried to ignore how Vaella seemed to fit so well against his body and in a different scenario, they could’ve been snuggled up against each other like this. But Vaella finally caught herself and snapped out of her traitorous thoughts and drew her dagger back from Aemond’s neck, scurrying up and as far away as possible from Aemond. She refused to acknowledge all the thoughts that had just ran through her mind while she was sitting on top of him, she refused. It never happened, or else she’d hate herself until the day she dies. Aemond suddenly seemed to be robbed of the warmth he had been feeling prior, making it realize that it was Vaella who had been emitting it. Just as he had looked up at her, he saw a hand offered for him to take. He grabbed onto Vaella’s hand, who helped him up wordlessly, both of them trying to ignore the firm grip they seemed to have and their bodies reactions to it. Vaella quickly let go of his warm and large hand once Aemond stood on his feet. Aemond couldn’t help but notice his heart racing as he had felt Vaella’s soft skin against his battered one.

“Your daggers have been nicely crafted,” Aemond found his voice as he looked at his niece’s dagger, inspecting it closely. Of course, it had the emblem of the Targaryen’s on it and the handle was decorated with three blood-red stones, “Small, sharp, and vicious.”

Vaella knew he was talking about her daggers, but couldn’t help think he was describing her. She wasn’t small, however, maybe once had been, but once she grew she towered over most men, only the really tall ones could look down on her. And it just so happened that Aemond was almost a head taller than her. She refused to look at him as Aemond handed her dagger back, searching her face to see a reaction or something, but Vaella had blanked. All she wanted to do was lay in her bed and forget that this whole fight even happened. Once both of her daggers were in her hands, she grabbed her sword and walked up to get her cloak, but didn’t bother to put it on, as she stormed past her uncle, making sure to keep her distance as the feel of his body was still fresh in her mind.

Aemond grabbed his own cloak and gazed after his niece, securing his sword against his hip as he took off towards the city, needing to blow off some steam. Her soft skin forever engraved inside his mind.

↳Next part (to be posted)

#bvidzsoo #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond x oc #aemond x targaryen! reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fanfiction #hotd #hotd imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x oc #aemond targaryen enemies to lovers

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nastyavolk-cp · 1 year

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LITTLE OWL - Yandere Platonic Athena x "Reader" (EXTRA)

Read part 1, 2 and 3 here.

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[May 28, 2023]

Alexia already knew that running away was not a good idea. Since that fateful day when she was taken by the goddess Athena, Alexia had thought of many ways to escape, but after much reflection, the Greek girl concluded that even if she really had a way to escape, Athena would always be 20 steps ahead of her.

Since being brought to Mount Olympus to live alongside her new mother, Alexia has been 'blessed' to become a goddess too, even though she is a minor goddess and apparently she is the 'goddess of familial love' which is quite ironic for her because she was taken from her real family to live in a family that she nurtures no love or any kind of respect.

Furthermore, it is nearly impossible for her to have any ties to any god. For several months after her kidnapping, the only gods she interacted with were Athena herself, Artemis at times when she went to Olympus, and by Alexia's surprise, Alcaeus himself, better known as Heracles. The most famous hero of Greek antiquity swore to the Goddess who helped him complete his labors that he would keep Alexia safe and escorted when the Goddess of Wisdom was away from Olympus or too busy with her divine duties.

Contrary to what Alexia had already imagined of Heracles, he was very calm to talk to and also more relaxed than when he was a demigod tormented by the Queen of Olympus. Furthermore, Alexia even met Hebe, the wife of Heracles. Her life on Olympus was peaceful, as she has no interaction with troublesome Gods like Hermes, Apollo, Dionysus, Ares, etc. Of course, Athena insisted that her father never got close to Alexia for very obvious reasons. In addition, Hercules would insist that his father would never have the courage to approach Alexia even if he really wanted to.

But Alexia missed home, missed her parents, her grandmother and the simple life she had before meeting Athena. She wanted her old life back, but she knows it wouldn't be possible and that Athena would never allow her to return.

“Hello Alexandra!” Heracles calls her so that the two of them could take a walk in the gardens of Mount Olympus. The former demigod hero received instructions from the goddess herself to take care of Alexia, first it was for him to always take a walk with her in the gardens of Mount Olympus since Alexia herself was admired by the beauty there, second was for him making sure she eats well and third and last was so he never left her alone.

“Hey…” On that specific day Alexia's memories of her old life haunted her and left her always melancholic and with only the desire to drown her sorrows alone in her room. Heracles immediately senses the melancholy in the little goddess and regards her with a worried look.

“Alexandra, are you okay?” The hero of Olympus asks her when he sees her sad look. At that moment, a risky idea crossed his mind, but her mother Ekaterini always said that it was always better to take a risk than never to try, who knows it might work out.

“Lord Heracles, may I stay in my room for today? I want to be alone for a little while.” She started her charge. Heracles looked at her with a slight look of distrust and seriousness, but then he sighed and answered her.

“Alexandra, you know Lady Athena doesn't want you to be left unattended while she's not here.” The hero patiently explained to her. But Alexia decided at that moment to appeal to the emotional, letting the tears that she had allowed to accumulate all this time fall from her brown eyes and moisten her cheeks.

“P-Please… I just want some time alone. Just this once, please…” Immediately she saw the hero's face soften as he saw her cry, Heracles sighs and agrees.

"All right. Everything is fine. You can go, but I'll be checking in on you every hour, understand?" Alexia softens her expressions and gives a slight smile as she wipes away her tears. Heracles then takes her to Athena's chambers which have become Alexia's as well.

As soon as Heracles leaves her at the door of his room, Alexia thanks him and with just a wave Heracles withdraws and leaves the area, leaving Alexia in her golden cage. After waiting a few minutes, Alexia opens the door to the goddess Athena's chambers and looks around to find any sign of Heracles.

As soon as she saw that the corridor was empty, Alexia closed the door to the chambers and remembered that she had a portal that led to Earth in the Council room of Olympus which she remembered being taken by Athena through it. If she could just cross the Gardens of Olympus and reach the Council Room without being seen by anyone, she would already be winning.

Cautiously, Alexia manages to leave the room area and she arrives at the Gardens of Olympus, she managed to pass through the area managing to hide behind the bushes and trees so she easily managed to reach the Council Room, but she hides behind one of the thrones when the portal shines and a person comes out of it: Athena.

Alexia holds her breath and tries to calm her anxiety so that Athena won't hear her at all. The Goddess of Wisdom emerges from the Council Hall, and as soon as she is out of sight, Alexia sees this as her opportunity to make her escape.

The Greek girl came out of her hiding place and walked to the portal. She stares at it for a few seconds, but before she could jump on it, she stopped to think if this portal really took her home and if it wouldn't take her to a different place. Even with all these questions flooding her mind, Alexia takes a deep breath and decides to take a risk.

However, the portal disappears and Alexia panics when she hears Athena from afar arguing with Heracles. Shit, they realized she was gone. Alexia immediately runs to hide behind one of the thrones, but specifically behind Zeus’s.

"It doesn't matter, go look for her in the gardens and I'll look for her here." Athena gives her order as soon as she enters the council room and Alexia was able to hear Heracles' hurried footsteps getting lower and lower as he walked away. Alexia held her breath and tried to calm herself so as not to panic and reveal where she was.

"Four months. You have been here for four months and you still dare to defy me, daughter.” The last word came out like poison on Athena's tongue. Alexia was able to catch the aura of fury emanating from the Goddess of Wisdom, who is normally calm and collected, and kept to herself, trying her best not to put herself in the Goddess's field of vision. Then the Greek girl heard the sound of the sword coming out of Athena's belt compartment and the girl's body froze.

“Do you really think you can escape me? Do you think I'll let you go? Why are you so difficult?” Athena asked, walking around the Council Hall in search of Alexia as she was paralyzed behind the throne of Zeus and awaiting her inevitable end.

“Maybe it's about time you understood why… I am the Goddess of Wisdom.” Then suddenly Alexia feels a hand grab her arm and she is pulled out of her hiding place. Alexia looked away so that she wouldn't be forced to face Athena's cold eyes, but obviously that would be useless since the goddess herself with one of her hands grabbed Alexia's chin tightly and forced her to face her.

“Explain yourself, now.” Alexia already felt tears immediately leak from her eyes even against her will, she didn't want to show herself vulnerable to the goddess.

"I'M GOING TO MY REAL HOME WITH MY REAL FATHER AND MOTHER!!" Alexia screamed in response and so Athena let go of the hand that was holding Alexia's chin and grabbed her sword, pointed at the Greek girl and the tip of the blade was so close to the girl that it was enough to make her alert.

“This is your home and I am your mother. Submit, already.” In response Alexia manages to break free from Athena's grip and manages to walk away, but she would not be able to run away since the Goddess of Wisdom would never allow it.

"NEVER!"

"You will or your blood family will suffer." Athena obviously would never get tired of his threat, not least because Alexia's family is her policy so that she would never run away or try to do something against the goddess.

“My family does not deserve to suffer because of your selfishness!” Alexia retorts, but soon she sees an evil smile forming on Athena's face.

“No, they will suffer because of your disobedience. In war, when you want to conquer a city like yours, you must capture its heart. You are the city I want to capture and since your blood family is your heart, I will destroy them.” That simple comparison was enough to make Alexia's heart drop into her stomach and panic freeze her body. Like it or not, Athena was right, if she continued to disobey the goddess, her family would bear the consequences and Alexia would not be able to live every day knowing that she was responsible for it if something happened to them.

With a lot of pain and weight in her heart, Alexia gives up and lowers her gaze, a clear gesture of submission.

“Okay, I give up… just don't hurt them, please.” Alexia was aware that she was looking pathetic but it was her family's life in her hands and she wasn't going to risk anything.

“Great, good girl. It won't happen again, will it?" Athena asks as she lowers her sword and approaches Alexia. The girl shakes her head and her lip trembles to hold back her tears.

"No…"

"Excellent. You have my word that I will not do anything to them as long as you behave yourself.”

Alexia finally got the courage to face the goddess and saw the goddess smiling patiently at her as she offered her hand to her. The Greek girl had no choice but to grasp the goddess's hands, and that was enough to seal her fate.

That she would never escape Athena's obsessive gaze and that she will always be her Little Owlet.

#yandere athena #little owl au #alexandra lykaios romanescu #alexia romanescu/female reader #yandere greek mythology #yandere greek gods #Athena Route

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nicolewoo · 9 months

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King Reigns Part 2

King Reigns Part !

Pairing: King Roman Reigns X Reader

Warnings: None

“Your Majesty” my valet woke me. “I have urgent news for you.” I was mistaken. It wasn’t my valet’s voice. Who dared wake the King? Opening my eyes, I saw Charles next to the bed.

“Charles, do you aspire to be my Valet now?” I grumbled.

“Please lay out a riding outfit for the King”. Charles told my valet and servants began buzzing around the room. “No, Your Highness. I have urgent news.”

“Continue.” I demanded.

“It is in regards to the issue you tasked me with yesterday.” I had no idea what Charles was talking about. When I didn’t answer, he continued. “Sire, The PRIVATE matter. Lady……” He prompted.

Lady Buckland! I had tasked him with keeping the fair lady from discovering my identity. I ordered the room be vacated.

Grabbing the pants that had been set out for me, Charles spoke quickly and dressed me faster than he spoke. “Lady Buckland is currently making her way to the Stables for an unchaperoned ride.” I grabbed my tunic, quickly throwing it on while Charles grabbed my coat. “I’ve sent word to the stable to stall as long as possible, and to saddle your horse.”

“Thank you Charles!” I said as I tied my hair up and Charles slid my shoes on. “How did you find out?” I asked as we exited my room and half ran through the halls of the castle. “Lady Buckland wasn’t at the festivities last night.”

Looking at me and arching an eyebrow, Charles laughed. “Lady Buckland may not want to attend court, but her driver has no such reservations. Oddly enough, the more ale he drinks, the more he talks. I simply ensured his goblet was never empty, and I got mountains of information on the fair maiden; including that she loves to ride alone in the morning.”

Seeing a nun going to the chapel, I silenced Charles with a movement. “You are a genius Charles!” I said as the nun ducked into another hall after bowing politely.

The smell of hay and horse cake filled my nose as I entered the stable. The fair Lady Buckland was nowhere to be seen, and I didn’t want to ask how far of a lead she had, lest I rouse suspicion from the stable hands.

I thanked the young man who held my horse still as I mounted it, and I rode at full speed out of the barn. The sound of another clop of hooves alerted me that Charles was behind me. “I can handle this myself, Charles.”

“Sire,” Charles started respectfully. “If this is to happen often, as I suspect it shall, I cannot in good conscious allow you to ride unprotected. I shall not call the guardsmen, but I shall accompany you for your safety.” When I didn’t answer, he continued. “I shall ride far enough away to give you privacy and still ensure your safety.” Now I nodded my gratefulness.

The stable hands had been successful in stalling because we found Lady Buckland quickly just on the edge of my orchard. She was relaxing by a pond while her horse nuzzled it’s nose against her. She laughed, telling the horse it was tickling her. Charles turned his horse toward the orchard muttering that his horse loved apples.

“Greetings Lady Buckland,” I said as I neared her.

For the briefest second as she turned to look at me, I saw annoyance in her eyes, but it faded as she recognized me. “Lord Sussex.” She stood, knocking a few apples off her lap. Her horse was quick to gobble up the loose fruit. “What brings you out?”

I dismounted my horse, taking his reins, and leading him to the pond to drink. “I often enjoy a morning ride. I find it helps clear my mind.” I answered. “What brings you out to the orchard? Were you enticed by the apples?” I pointed to the grove.

“They are rather sweet and plump.” She said, looking for her recently discarded fruit. Finding none, she smiled and patted her horse on the neck. “At least that’s what Hera says.”

“She’s a beautiful mount.” I said patting her horse’s nose. “Did you not try the apples?”

We stood each of us on one side of Hera patting her neck, the horse’s hot breath snorting in the morning cold. Grabbing a brush from the saddle, Lady Buckland began brushing Hera. The horse was obviously used to it, and she turned her muzzle toward her owner. “Hera didn’t want to share,” She laughed.

Holding my hand up to my lips, I whistled as loud as I could. Seconds later, I saw Charles emerge from the grove. “Bring me some apples.” I called out to him, and he quickly trotted toward us with the fruit. Seeing the blanket on the back of his saddle, I grabbed it, and laid it out on the ground after pointing Charle’s horse back toward the orchard and gently tapping his rear. “Would you care to break your fast with me?” I asked Lady Buckland.

By the time we sat on the blanket, Charles had discreetly disappeared. She answered with a bite of apple. Her eyes lit up when she tasted it. Long moments stretched out as she chewed, and I decided to take a bite of my apple too. It was as sweet as grapes.

Hera’s big furry head pushed between us, begging for scraps. “Off with you!” the lady teased the horse but grabbed another apple and held it on her palm between us. Hera quickly grabbed the treat from her hand. Seeing the exchange, my horse, Banon, wanted his own, and he wandered to my side. Holding another apple up, I gave it to Banon who knickered his thanks as he wandered over to Hera. The two horses seemed to get along.

“If the fruit didn’t lure you out to the orchard, what did?” I asked.

Turning to face the pond, she took a deep breath of air. She sighed out. “One could say that I too needed to clear my mind.”

Whatever occupied her mind was far more serious than she led on. Although her lips smiled, there was but sadness I her eyes. I wanted to make that sadness go away.

“What troubles you?” I asked as I resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her.

She sighed again. “My Lord, my troubles are not my own.” She stopped as if that was all the information she intended to share.

“Then who troubles you?” I prompted.

Speaking slowly, she looked around the grounds. “I sit here. Relaxing, eating apples, dressed in this ridiculous frock when I should be home, helping my tenants harvest their crops. Two of my tenants are due to give birth soon, and the midwife is sick. The pigs are fighting off an illness at one of the farms.” She stopped; frustration oozing from her. “I should be back at my estate, helping my people. Instead I’m here to be dressed up and trotted in front of the King like chattel. And what is to happen to my people if the King decides to make me his new queen? How can I tend their wounds, help their births, guide the farmers to the most fertile land?” She stopped again, gathering herself. “I must admit, I’m scared.”

“Do you not think the King would help your people?” I asked.

“I cannot know, unless it happens” she said. “We know not what type of king he will be.”

My father’s death six months ago had come as a surprise to all of us. In a minute, my world changed forever. I was doing my best to be the same type of leader my father was, but now, as I ruled, I felt I often failed to meet his high standards. “I can tell you for certain that our new King is a kind and caring ruler. He strives to be as good of a leader as his father.”

“It matters not if he desires to be a good ruler. I saw no king when my parents died 10 years ago. I saw no king when beetles ate our soy crops 8 years ago. I saw no king when the plow broke at the Dunderstat’s house or when Timmy died of the plague. I saw no king when a blight killed the corn crops 5 years ago. It matters not what he desires, but what the king does.”

Her thoughts hung in the air like an engulfing fog. In the span of a few sentences, she had both insulted me and my father’s memory, and yet, she was right. Toward the end of the former king’s life, he was engulfed in the constant battles on our northern border. Keeping the Vikings at bay consumed his rule for nearly a decade. After, the injuries from war kept him in the castle most of the time.

“I do not mean to speak ill of King Phillip. By all accounts, he was a good man.” She added.

“He was a great man and a great king.” I said, and she immediately started nodding her agreement.

“He was, but the new king could do better if he tried. Think on it, the Viking war is over. Our boarders are safe. Our new king could use this time to better the lives of his subjects.” She said.

Tossing my apple core to Banon who ate it loudly. “Do you intend to tell the new King this when you meet with him?”

She looked down into her lap. “No.”

Raising an eyebrow, “Why not? You’ll have his undivided attention.”

She sighed. “Kings care not what women say.”

“They don’t?” I questioned.

She challenged me with her gaze, “Nobel men listen not to women. We are but commodities to them.”

She was right. “Maybe noble men seldom encounter women with anything worthy to say. Maybe if we had the luxury of being introduced to interesting women, we’d be interested.”

“Instead, they are surrounded by noble women who care only for sex and gossip.”

I thought about trying to defend the nobles, but everything she said was true. I’d had the same thoughts many times. I attended all the events, but seldom stayed past dinner. Female courtiers vied for my attention. Male courtiers threw their daughters at me. I was seldom comfortable at events.

“Consider our new King. He is being dressed up and trotted out in front of single women. How did you say it? Like Chattle?”

“At least he gets to choose who he marries.” She argued.

“The king is not as free to choose as you may think. He is surrounded by women who want only to wear the crown, but not to love.”

She leaned back, resting her hands on the ground behind her and furrowed her brow, “Are you saying our new king doesn’t want to marry?”

“Actually our king would love to marry. He has yet to find the right woman.”

She looked at me now. “And what pray tell is the king looking for in a wife?”

Inhaling deep, I thought, “Our king? He wants a bride who is kind and honest, pious and strong, one who can stand up to others and for others if she needs to. Our king wants a true queen, who can rule side by side with him. One the nobles will listen to. One who can help smooth out trade negotiations or peace pacts when needed. One who will help the king be the best ruler he can be.”

I looked at her now. Our conversation was so fluid, so candid, so relaxed. I was certain I wouldn’t find this level of comfort with any of the maidens I was to meet this week. Lady Buckland was indeed kind and honest and pious and strong. But would she help me be the best ruler I can be? Her thoughts were not for herself, but for the subjects of my kingdom. I believe she would make an ideal queen.

“And I suppose the King would like this perfect queen to be beautiful?” She challenged.

I thought for a moment. The lady lounging before me was stunningly beautiful, but unlike the ladies at court, she didn’t need to be all made up to look beautiful. I remembered how she looked at her carriage yesterday, dirt on her face, hands covered with grease, a slight sweat built up as she tried to repair the carriage. She was glorious. “I think a woman like that would be beautiful, no matter what her appearance.” I answered.

A loud whistle from Charles wailed through the air. As he rode toward us he said, “My Lord Suffex, we must attend the King now. He is to meet with prospective brides today. Those meetings start in 30 minutes.”

Zounds! Time had flown by. I wanted to stay here all day, relaxing, chatting. Honestly, one could argue that the conversation we had alerted me to the daily trials and tribulations of my subjects and therefore, could make me a better king.

“Lady Buckland,” I said as I stood. I held my hand out to help her up, but she refused it, standing on her own. “Would you like to break your fast with me tomorrow morning? Shall we meet here?”

As much as she tried to hide it, I could tell she was smiling just a bit as she considered. “Yes.”

@mindofasagitarius @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire @snowpanda18 @thesamoanqueen

pitlissa22

sparxx27

#Roman Reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #kingromanreigns

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supernovafeather · 2 years

Text

The War Tribute (Part 2) (18+)

Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Content : noncon, forced marriage, trauma, rough sex, spank, degradation, spit, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, language, Leto is trying, fluff, angst.

Link to PART ONE

The silence is deafening as you enter the Duke's quarters. You haven't slept in a little bit more than twenty-four hours and everyone around him had understood that he obeyed the Emperor fully. Your paces towards the center of the room are muffled by the carpet, just as his. You don't pay attention to your surroundings and beautiful furniture, your disgust mounting for some reason at the maidservants waiting in line already, their eyes following you.

"Ladies, here is the new Duchess of Caladan." He says emotionless. "You got briefed on her arrival. Please make her feel at home."

"My home got burned down." You say between your teeth as the women lower their gaze under your hostility. "Good luck Ladies."

The Duke inhales briefly, certainly about to say something, then gives up. You are watching those idiots afraid of you. They are pathetic. You keep your head up despite this need to wash your skin over and over since he took you against your will. You managed to make him feel uncomfortable and you will do the same to those maggots unable to stand for themselves and crawling pathetically to survive.

"My Lady." The youngest says shyly as she walks up to you with an anxious smile. "Please let me take your shawl, I am..."

The spit hitting her face has her stepping back with a disgusted grimace. Her left eye closed, she turns her head away. You expect the Duke to scold you, insult you, why not to keep you as low as he can by inflicting you the same treatment. But when you turn to him to defy that piece of shit, you notice he kept his head straight, eyes closed with anger tensing his features. Good.

"Laura. Please do not act so invasively."

You are about to spit at that hypocritical bearded face when you remember that you really shouldn't do such a thing, as tempting that may be. He might not be as powerful as you thought, and it only makes things more humiliating for you, your rage bubbling in your stomach. The Emperor wiped the floor with that man's values, and you are going to wipe the floor with his dignity.

"Yes Laura." You say mischievously. "You better not to do that to a Duchess."

"I'm sorry my Lady." She whispers as she seems to remember this tiny and insignificant detail with a dramatic jolt. "This won't happen again my Lady."

Your wedding won't be remembered. Due to the customs that forced you to do it, it only took Leto Atreides to confirm he ejaculated in you in that cell to make it official. Right afterwards you stayed in an isolate room of the ship, taking several showers in a row as sadness, disgust and anger kept spreading in your core. You want to make all of them pay. Your family, that husband, those pathetic little maidservants that won't even care about you. Maybe some are jealous of you. Who knows ? Maybe they think it would be fun, exciting, arousing ? What do they even know of things like that ?

"My Lady please leave Laura alone." The Duke whispers.

You blink, realizing that this woman is stuck in her submissive stance after you have stared down at her for so long, her form victim of the fire in your eyes. She hasn't done anything to you but... it does feel good to have that power over something. You won't be able to keep your influence over the Duke forever. He is going to regain his composure once guilt will start to vanish.

Your instructions to the women are clear : do not touch. No one touches you. They are here to bring you your clothes, soap, whatever. And make your bed. And clean. But... do not touch.

During the first night you spend at least an hour in your bath, rubbing and cleaning everything compulsively. There is no foam remaining. You feel lonely, dirty, betrayed. And soon you are going to have to share that bed with that man, your husband as they call him. There's no ring, no joy, no paper signed yet or at least you haven't signed anything. He brought you there like some feral cat found on the street. And tonight you are going to have to let him breed you because some man thought it should be a rule so far in the past. Maybe you are already pregnant from that cursed day who knows.

Once out of the bathroom, you find the Duke sitting on his bed. You wonder whether you should play the flirting wife or ignore him. Maybe you should treat him like shit. He looks more fragile with this thin white top and this pair of pants. You do look fragile in that nightgown so you hope he won't break you one day. Now that the power balance is totally against you, you are not that sure of your actions anymore.

"My Lady." He salutes you without any expression.

"My Lord." You nod in the same way.

You go to bed under his gaze, avoiding to cross it as you hide your body under the blanket. The moment he gets underneath as well you feel this nausea appearing. So you get rid of your side with a shaky sigh, and turn on your belly, lifting your nightgown up to your waist as you look at his confused face.

"Take me. I'm here for that reason. Make me carry your child."

For a few seconds he doesn't move, his frown digging his features as usual. You have hope before he finally moves, soon straddling you from behind. His calloused hands rub your asscheeks, spread them, press them. His legs look strong by the way the mattress moves under him. You think you are making up your mind.

"You're not wet."

"I know."

He spits at your entrance several times as you try to prevent yourself from sobbing, your heartbeat so intense it makes you feel floating, like you are not hear for real. You hear his pants getting lowered, flesh rubbing against flesh for a while to make himself hard. Then a frustrated sigh.

"I can't do that to you. Not again." He mutters.

"Huh ? Fuck me by the Gods, I have only one thing to do there. My father gave up on me for that reason."

He doesn't answer and you remain there as he puts his sex back into his pants. Your body freezes when he almost crawls on you to get a tissue or two, then wipes your entrance. Feeling his fingers rubbing this area causes violent cold goosebumps all over you and he puts your nightgown back onto your bottom, the blanket as well in a brutal gesture.

"The Emperor wanted that. Not me." He justifies as you turn around to see him sitting on his side of the bed. "I can't do that."

"You've already done it once and you loved it. Stop playing the remorseful man."

"It's not a game even for myself." He argues as you turn your back at him.

It's not a game and you are well-placed to know it. You keep your mouth shut.

Caladan may not be a planet you've heard a lot of, but the tension reigning there during the first months is certainly new. Several reasons for this : its people themselves don't feel comfortable with the principle of that forced marriage, but also your invisibility as you refuse to appear in public, the fact that Leto doesn't argue with this, and the obvious lack of heir for the throne.

Closeted in your self-isolation you barely see anyone besides the Duke and the maidservants. A few times you cross the path of soldiers or advisors but you don't salute them as they are more focused on the absence of a baby bump under your dress than on your feelings.

There had been rumors once after you had to interrupt your breakfast due to nausea. But it was due to a sudden surge of melancholy after the taste of it reminded you of the fruits from your planet. And as Leto hasn't touched you since the day he abused you, you were not worried about the outcome.

"Good morning my Lady."

This polite voice welcoming you in the Gardens is more common now that you and your husband learned more or less to tolerate each other. After a few days of pure coldness and even of mutual disdain, you accepted to finally accustom to the basic politeness rules of this court.

"Good morning my Lord." You acknowledge his presence with a neutral face.

You haven't taken a good look at him in a while. He does seem thinner than before. Tired as well. But who are you to be sure of it ? You see him barely two hours in the day. You avoid to take your breakfast in his presence not to take the risk of causing a scene.

"May we have a walk ?" He asks.

"Don't you have a meeting ?"

"Please my Lady." He insists as he extends his arm to you.

You take it, now so used to sleep by his side that you repress those goosebumps of disgust.

"Do you need anything. My Lord ?"

"We need to talk... about... everything. You are falling ill my Lady. I can see it. I am worried."

"I am alright." You roll your eyes. "Insomnia won't kill me."

"You barely eat anything during lunches. I don't even see you during breakfast and dinner." He insists gently.

"I don't need you to know when or where to eat."

"As I said I am worried."

Such a lie. It's all a lie as you stop, his face so serious as he runs a hand through a strand of hair that escaped your bun. They're all liars all the time, you couldn't even trust your own father and now he tries to convince you that man has feelings.

"Please my Lady, take care of yourself. Have you read the books I offered you ?" He inquires.

"I did. They were... interesting."

You were passionate in your reading. This man has excellent taste in literature but better get your tongue ripped out your mouth than admitting it out loud. He is a weird ruler. He did that atrocity to you yet takes care as much as he can of your comfort to make sure you feel at home here. Maybe he wasn't lying when he told you he didn't want to do such a thing.

"Do you enjoy the baths in the renovated aisle of the castle ?"

"I do."

"Did it help you to relax a bit ?"

"It did."

"Good. Good." He says with obviously no idea of how to pursue this conversation. "Well. I think I need to go now. My Lady."

For a second you get confused at the way he takes your hand. It's shy, calculating your reaction with careful eyes. You wonder why he wants to handshake his wife before finally understanding as he kisses the back of your hand in a brief contact. It's a simple gesture but... you realize how much your relationship has progressed to come up with this without you stepping back or insulting him under your breath. To be fair he is the only one trying to save this marriage for some reason. But after all he needs this heir, and if in theory he feels guilty about his actions he should make it worth it by breeding you at all costs, even if that takes him months.

You want to end that hypocrisy and for once you are the first in your bed that night, waiting for Leto to finish his shower. He came back early - around 1 am - and you don't feel sleepy. Not when you feel this anticipation building in your belly. You want to carry his baby so that hypocrisy will end for good and he'll let you live your life by your own, hoping this would be a boy of course. Maybe a boy that one day would be willing to vote other laws like that aberration you got to endure.

A disturbingly sweet warmth spreads in you as you watch the Duke walking past the bed, his mind wandering elsewhere as he stops by a desk to read a document. From there you can see his strong shoulders under the white and large top he put in his dark pants. He did get thinner but his arms remain well defined. His legs and hips as well. You never got to have a look at him naked.

You leave the bed in silence, your bare feet caressing the carpet as you come closer to him and to the glowglobe following him. He looks exhausted by how slowed down are his gestures. Hesitation plagues your mind but desire and curiosity take you over and you snake your arms around his waist.

Leto tenses up dramatically and his breath even stops as you press your cheek against his shoulder blade. Now that contact is made you feel this fear battling with your sexual need awakening. You want to tame that fear, to annihilate that mental torture. You want to live again, to taste life as you would in the past. You have this demon to vanquish. No one is going to help you.

"My Lady ?" Your husband mutters as your hands rub his chest gently.

"Yes my Lord ?" you ask back as you close your eyes.

This control over him is back, you think. Not by intimidation or sourness. He just froze there under your touch, paying attention to your actions and words. His breathing is now deep, focused.

"What are you doing exactly ?" He wonders with a soft voice.

"Give me that child you want."

The Duke's profile gets visible as he turns his head slightly. He looks wonderfully regal for some reason, maybe the light sharpening his features even more under the glowglobe's light. His beard is more messy than usual, same with his hair that are still a bit wet here and there.

"Do you feel ready ?"

He turns around slowly, your heart pounding by the seriousness and lust in his eyes. Having such an expressive gaze shouldn't be allowed. It gives you the impression of being hit by a heatstroke.

"I want you." You confess before feeling this lump when he raises an eyebrow.

"Are you really wishing for this my dear ?" He asks as he licks his bottom lip once.

"I do."

Then comes this twisted idea in your mind, and you feel your wetness starting to come out of your lower lips while you rub up and down his chest as he rests his hands on your hips, expectation clear in his face.

"Take me like last time. Against that desk. Make me love it, and cum in me. Take me hard."

You clench at the thought of finally having the opportunity to confront that memory. To make it get erased by this good one, by the pleasure you are willing to feel this time with him. It's the only weapon you have. You have no intention of letting fear dictate your life.

"My Lady I'm not sure this would be a good solution." He argues despite you looking down at the bump growing rapidly and leaking a little through his pants. "I love that thought, don't get me wrong. I don't want to hurt you more that I already did."

You step back from him, your hand shaking despite your confident glare. You position yourself like you were that day : palms firmly on the table, facing this much cleaner wall, your back arched for him.

"I want it my Lord. Take me."

It takes him a dozen of seconds to lift your nightgown and you hate it.

"Take me hard." You mutter with a slight slap on the desk.

"I won't hurt you." He warns you. "Stop giving orders to your Duke."

"A Duke that can't even fuck his wife properly when she asks for it, even after several months without real sex." You chuckle as your hear him lowering his pants at this provocation.

Now that you stung his ego, he does get more physical, but by grabbing your hair to pull on it, forcing you to sit on his desk as he forces you to embrace his hips with your legs. Your heart skips a beat, maybe two, but this death glare coming from him so close arouses you. If you wanted to dominate him both psychologically and physically even if only in symbols, now you only want him to cum inside you.

"Spread your legs my dear." He orders.

You do as said, your eyes locked with his as he holds your throat. Your pussy clenched around nothing, then on the tip of his cock as he rubs your wet entrance blindly, then on his shaft he slides effortlessly and with less care than the other time. You forgot how thick he was and you gasp against his lips, your eyes wide open as he stays deep inside you, his tongue looking for yours. His hips press against yours with a strength you can't fight, your hands grabbing his top.

Comes the first hip thrust, brutal as he watches your reactions.

"You love that." He states in confusion as you clench hard around him. "You love to get fucked hard."

"I hope you love it that way my Lord."

It's just a matter of seconds before your plans change completely. The desk is not for him so he carries you to his bed, still buried deeply in you. Still connected to you he makes you fall onto the mattress, taking your nightgown off as well as his own top. And for a man that noticably lost weight you are amazed by the toned muscles he still has. Now he is intimidating. Now he is the war Lord your father started to be wary of once he understood he made the worst mistake of his life.

The Duke grins as he tilts his head to the side, his hands caressing your bare thighs around his hips.

"You're not being rough." You state shyly as he starts to rub your erected clit with a lazy thumb. "I asked you to..."

"And I ask you to let me watch your body." He interrupts you with a gentle grind. "It's not everyday that I can see my wife like this."

He chuckles as you clench around him again, the lower part of your body jolting at the sensation. He leans on you, looking right at your eyes as his lips graze yours.

"Stop looking so innocent." He groans as you gasp at the long and deep thrust. "You're too hot for that, wanting it harder and harder, begging for it."

Now things gets more interesting as he starts more brutal motions, moving his legs to get a better position. It's fast and deep, his hands pulling on your hair so he can have a good view on your bouncing breasts and bare neck. It's already starting to feel good to be at his mercy. You're so worked up that you don't think, just moan mindlessly as he shows his confidence even more with a satisfied smile. Then he flips you over, your hands grabbing his blanket as you try to crawl away before feeling him back inside you brutally.

This time he doesn't do it with any finesse. You are his as he spanks you hard, the volume of your moans increasing as his shaft keeps rubbing you from the inside. You want him to give you that baby, you want to make your father think that you turned that page of that family, that you manipulated the all-mighty Duke of Caladan to your advantage, that you are an Atreides, that you don't have any trauma, that you grew stronger after that senseless war and that your husband fucks you so good every night. You want the world to think all of that because you deserve justice.

Your orgasm is so loud that you hide your face in his blanket, your teeth trying to catch it despite how much your combined weight bounce each time. It's good, he's so good to you. He makes you feel so good with his little praise, because yes as he says you are his beautiful Duchess, a good girl, his good girl taking him so well, so hot and so tight, you are his good girl and he is about to cum.

"Shit." He sighs with satisfaction as he slows down, his hands still firmly around your hips.

You open you eyes sleepily as you feel most of the tension leaving you. Leto keeps grinding at a slow pace, his hands rubbing your bare back and he pants loudly.

"Did you like it ?" You mumble once your mouth freed when you turn around.

"I did. And I should be the one asking you that."

For a few seconds your gaze remains focused on the Atreides signet ring still on his finger digging your skin. You blink, trying to realize that you are indeed a part of this House now. It's the first time you truly feel that way.

"You just killed me." He groans as he lies down, his hand wiping some sweat on his chest.

He does look exhausted like that with his eyes closed but at least he is smiling. It's a strange view but pleasant. You made him happy tonight. You are not willing to join his arms as he invited you to get closer, but you remain there, wondering if this could even mead to anything healthy. Right now you may be drunk by this sexual performance, but your duty doesn't stop at that. And now that you feel safer around him, new opportunities emerge in your mind.

- - -

@salome-c @stevenngrant @lavenderluna10 @one-hell-of-a-disappointment @dailyreverie @thecursivej @lady-targaryen @general-latino @harrys-tittie

#leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x you #duke leto x reader #duke leto x you

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ithebookhoarder · 2 years

Note

Jealous Eloise as fem!reader dances at a ball with a suitor? Reader confronts Eloise on why she’s upset and Eloise gives an angsty love confession? Something along those lines you can change it up to whichever is better for the story

You Belong With Me (Eloise Bridgerton x F!reader)

A/N: Oh, Eloise. Love of my life. I had WAY too much fun indulging with this one, so thank you to whoever sent it in 😉 Also, I have set this up as part one of two, as it combined so well with another request I got for Eloise and a female reader - so I hope you don't mind. Keep your eyes peeled as it should be up soon. Promise! 🤞

Part 2

Masterlist:

The start of the new season was always chaotic. Your whole house seemed consumed with nothing but making preparations, from choosing which outfits to wear, to which suitors would be in attendance, to which dances were most in fashion.

It was no surprise to you that you were not the only people in England also caught in the frenzy of social life. Merely a day or so since your arrival to London and you had already received a staggering number of invitations for teas, soirees and balls for the coming weeks in town.

The idea of attending even a handful of them made your head spin.

Luckily, your mother had spent her entire life preparing for this eventual situation. She, and your father, almost had it down to an art. As soon as you would open an invitation, your mother would have already placed it in one her neat piles. Needless to say there was a rather large contrast between the acceptance, and denial piles. The way in which she organised the whole affair so efficiently was almost militaristic.

In another life she’d have made a particularly marvellous general, or so you remarked as you watched your mother’s ‘battle plan’ forming.

However, despite your mother’s assurance that matrimony was not the entire aim for the season - merely an additional blessing, should you receive such an offer - you still felt like the pressure to find such a prospect was mounting.

So far, it had taken all your will power not to protest every time your mother and father had made a mention of some other silly tradition or ritual you would be expected to perform before the season was out.

This morning in particular had almost sent you screaming from the breakfast table as your mother had informed you that she had received your vouchers and invitations for Almack’s for the season, after having had a rather flattering letter from its current Patronesses - all as titled, and ridiculous as the last in their opinion. You really didn't care who Lady Emily Cowper, Lady Jersey, Lady Castlereagh or Mrs Drummond Burrell were.

You also cared a hell of a lot less about their eligible offspring too - each as ridiculous as the next… and, most importantly, male.

That was a rather crucial detail in your eyes, given the fact that you knew you were simply not capable of feeling the traditional sentiments about the other sex. It was something you had always known - ever since you were a small girl and played with your dolls house, making up stories for your ‘brides’, and casting the male dolls aside.

You simply hadn’t seen anything wrong with the idea of two girls choosing to spend their lives together, rather than wasting it on silly boys. However, your mother had been quick to assure you that you would grow out of such childish nonsense when you came of age.

You hadn’t.

Quite the opposite in fact, as your feelings only cemented themselves, as opposed to waning. You could blame the blossoming affection between you and a Miss Eloise Bridgerton for that… An affection that was currently driving you almost mad with frustration.

All evening, since you’d first arrived at the terrible soiree that was was to be your prison for the evening, you had been in a state of intense irritation with both yourself and the world.

You were irritated by the silly fop who had just escorted you from the dance floor to your mother; you were irritated by the footman who offered you a glass of champagne; you were irritated with the cloying smell of too many different perfumes that pervaded the ballroom; and you were irritated with the itchy fabric of your dress which made you want to twitch like a demented bedlamite.

Most of all, more than anything else, you were irritated with yourself for your detailed knowledge of the movements of one blasted Eloise Bridgerton.

It wasn’t her fault, per say, that you were unable to take your eyes off of her all night. Yet, you had been dragged to and fro, from suitor to suitor – all the while noting Eloise’s each and every movement.

You were behaving like a jealous ninny.

“Oh, look!” exclaimed your sister, Charlotte, poking you in the arm. You rubbed irritably at the spot. Splendid. Now you were both itchy and bruised. “There’s Charles dancing with Eloise Bridgerton. Oh, mama will be thrilled. A match between them would be most ideal.”

“Indeed,” you muttered sourly, following the direction of your sister’s finger towards the dance floor, where your elder brother was dancing across the floor with Eloise.

Now, of course, you knew without even asking that chances were your brother had been forced into asking Eloise to dance, just as much as Eloise had been forced by convention to accept - it would be considered the highest of insults to have said no, and whilst Eloise was every bit a rebel at heart, she would never have embarrassed her mother, or family, in such a way.

However, that didn’t stop your stomach from churning as you watched from the edge of the room.

Your heart clenched in a way it had no business clenching over such an innocent scene, but it was more likely due to the fact that you knew you could never have such a privilege.

It was one thing to waltz with Eloise in her own home, but another to do so publicly. It simply wasn’t done… just as it wasn’t done for two women to love one another as you both did. It wasn’t done for two women to start a life together and reject the rules and conventions of society, but that hadn’t stopped you so far.

You had been to one another as close as two people could be, and had been for a while now.

You knew how Eloise’s perfume lingered when she was in your arms. You knew how it felt to have her hand holding yours. You knew how it felt to have Eloise’s eyes on you, watching your every move either during a dance in the ballroom or the bedroom.

As if he could sense it, over Eloise’s shoulder, your brother caught your eye and grinned.

You started, blushed, and focused instead on downing the remainder of your glass of champagne.

When you had all but slammed the glass down on a passing server’s tray, your sister turned an inquisitive eye on you. “What is wrong with you tonight? You don’t appear to be in a very good mood.”

You did your best to repress the urge to growl. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N.” Your sister knew when you were lying better than most - a fact you very much were aware of. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing - I should find Lord Sinderby,” you muttered icily. “He is written down as my next partner for the evening.”

You had had enough of standing gawking on the sidelines like a spectator at a bad play. Instead, you were almost glad of the distraction as your partner decided to emerge from the crowd and take your hand in his.

Just because you knew Eloise returned your affections, didn’t mean you were certain of the future. After all, a dalliance was one thing. To commit to a future together? To face an uncertain existence? To cast off any chance at marrying and having children, like women were supposed to? They were entirely different things.

Perhaps you had been naive to assume Eloise felt as you did. or maybe you had been optimistic - dangerously so, as your aunt had once warned you.

The thought was suddenly too much to bear. As was the idea you could be forced to watch Eloise choose another- a spectator in her life and not a key player.

You cursed to yourself and hastily forced back a tear that threatened to escape from your eye.

Thankfully, the music started and your partner was far too busy watching his feet to notice. Then again, Alfred Sinderby had never been the sharpest tac in the box. He was kind and wealthy, and that was enough for most women and their mamas, which would explain why so many had had their sights set on him all season.

Still, he managed to survive unscathed by matrimony just yet, which was impressive - all things considered. Perhaps that was why he always asked you for a dance, given that your disinterest in suitors was widely known amongst your peers, even if it was never discussed aloud. Whistledown had written you both off as being highly critical and particular in your searches, which wasn’t exactly incorrect, even if it wasn’t that simple.

You had found a worthy match, but taking her hand wouldn’t be as easy as marching in to her drawing room and declaring it then and there for all to hear - something Eloise knew was the same for you too. Neither family would likely welcome the news or understand, either (even if you suspected some members of your families would be more accepting of the idea).

So, for now, you contented yourself with dancing and listening to Alfred’s rather candid sense of humour. It was all you could do to make this evening more bearable.

That, and letting yourself be dragged from one dance to the other by whomever wished to pencil their name on the card attached to your wrist.

Alas, it was easier to smile and simper at young gentlemen, than be truthful with yourself. Focusing on keeping up with the steps was a less painful alternative compared to focusing on anything else.

However, there came a point in the evening where even you could dance no longer and you needed a reprieve from your aching feet and the suddenly suffocating heat of the crowded dance floor.

Whilst your first choice would have been to reclaim your family for company, or even Lord Sinderby (given the fact he seemed one of a few in attendance tonight able to keep up a decent conversation about anything other than matrimony or one’s fortunes), they were nowhere to be found. In fact, despite standing in the middle of the most crowded room in all of London, you suddenly felt remarkably alone.

Then again, was that such a surprise? After all, you’d learned long ago there were few who could truly see, let alone understand, you - and the person who did it best was always being pulled away from you in another direction entirely, either by life, her family, or the world in which you both lived.

Perhaps you were destined to be alone… the thought was a bitter one, but not all that surprising, as tonight had proven once again.

To hell with it. To hell with this whole night - it was that thought that propelled you to leave the ballroom, and march to the deserted terrace, and gardens beyond it.

You didn’t care if a young lady such as yourself should never leave the room unattended, nor venture into the darkened gardens where those of looser morals may prey upon those naive enough to stray. All you cared about right then was putting as much distance as possible between you and the gilded cage in which you found yourself.

That, and there was a sense of peace to be found standing in the late night breeze, staring up at the stars in the sky, and listening to the whispers of the music echoing from the open windows of the ballroom.

It was easy to forget everything, for just a moment. To pretend you were free, with only the company of the various chiseled statues for company… Each, ironically, familiar with your plight in their own ways.

Marc Anthony… Eurydice… Penelope… Anarkali…

Was it a sign, perhaps?

A sign of what though? A sign that love was always doomed? That it was but a foolish folly? Or that love was worth fighting for, even if it seemed impossible?

Why else did people still erect monuments to lovers past, even if they didn’t achieve their happy ending?

Even without saying anything, you still somehow felt a sense of judgement radiating off of the passive observers that surrounded you.

“Don’t even say it,” you growled, shooting the warning at the Emperor Hadrian, who had the misfortune of being the one to stare down at you at that particular moment.

“Don’t say what?”

“Good lord!”

You started, swerved, and nearly toppled over the bench you had failed to see behind you.

It wasn’t the statue come to life. That, you suddenly felt you could have dealt with, rather than this.

Eloise crossed the final few yards of the path, her muslin gown luminous in the moonlight. The thin fabric moulded itself against her legs as she walked, increasing the resemblance to a statuary of classical antiquity, but no statue had ever had that sort of effect on you.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?” you yelped. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Besides, I thought you had another young idiotic fop to dance with.”

Eloise winced slightly at your tone. “One, your concern for my wellbeing is somewhat hypocritical given the fact you are currently out here alone. Also, I needed to speak to you. About tonight-”

“You needn’t bother,” you interrupted tersely. “Don’t feel the need to come keep me company when you clearly have no shortage of company yourself.”

Eloise winced slightly at your tone. “One, your concern for my wellbeing is somewhat hypocritical given the fact you are currently out here alone. Also, I needed to speak to you. About tonight-”“You needn’t bother,” you interrupted tersely. “Don’t feel the need to come keep me company when you clearly have no shortage of company.”

Eloise squinted at you. “Says the woman who has been escorted on to the floor by practically every man with a pulse in there tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Well, forgive me if I didn’t wish to sit like some wallflower and play spectator to you and your own constant stream of suitors tonight,” you snapped back sharply. “You can’t honestly have expected me to just sit on some shelf and act like I didn’t care in the least that the one person I wished to dance with, to hold in my arms, is the one person I couldn’t.”

“I know!” Eloise retorted, her bravado suddenly slipping in place of a forlorn expression of someone just as tormented as you. “Look. I - I’m trying to apologise to you, or at least that was the intention when I followed you out here. I do not wish to fight about something as trivial as this.”

“Trivial? Is that what you think? That my pain is trivial?”

“Your pain? Ha!” exclaimed Eloise. As repartee, it wasn’t her finest hour, but she was clearly too furious to attempt words of more than one syllable. “You’re the one who has been behaving like some air headed debutante all night - simpering at every word your partners said, and batting your eyelids at them. You were doing this to spite me.”

“Spite you?”

“Yes,” Eloise continued. “You only did this as retribution for me accepting your brother’s dance - something I had no say in, I remind you. Yet, you’re the one running around in my dreams, smiling across the ballroom at me like that – I can’t think. I can’t sleep. I can’t look my best friend in the eye. It’s been sheer hell.”

“And that is my fault?’ You’re the one didn’t bother to— Wait. Your dreams? You’ve been dreaming about me?”

Eloise froze. She took a step back, looking horrified. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

You took a dangerous step forward. “Oh, no. There are no “never minds”, Eloise Bridgerton. You’re not getting off that easily this time. I can’t keep doing this, unsure of what you feel inside, or if everything between us has been nothing more than some dalliance for you.”

“Fine.” She took a step forward. “You want to know the truth, Y/N? The truth that every waking minute, my heart aches for you… that staying away from you is all I can do to keep my hands off you.”

Another step towards you. A step that brought you and Eloise so close that her breath stirred the loose strands of hair that had escaped your elegant arrangement atop your head.

You inched backwards, but the hedge was at your back, pricking you through your dress, blocking retreat.

“In fact,” Eloise continued, her hands reaching for you as her head descended towards your own – “you have been driving me absolutely mad.”

With a desperate sideways movement, you wrenched yourself from her grasp, leaving Eloise to almost stumble headlong into the hedge.

“Oh, no,” you warned, tears of rage and frustration gathering in your eyes. “The game where you kiss me and then run off and hide from me for weeks on end… It’s – I just can’t – if you’re just looking for a bit of fun, you’re going to have to find it somewhere else”-

Gathering your skirts in hand, you whirled in the direction of the house, only to be jerked back around abruptly by Eloise.

“That’s not what I want,” she burst out, turning you to face her.

“Then what do you want?”

“You, dammit! You, and only you.”

The words hung there in the air between you.

Each of you stared at the other, your eyes locked with Eloise’s, both frozen as still as the statues surrounding you.

“Say something… do you… do you not feel the same?”

“Don’t you know, El?”

Slowly, she shook her head. “No.” Her voice broke. “I don’t know anything right now, other than I do not wish for a life without you in it.”

“Funny,” you whispered achingly. “You took the words right from my lips.”

That was it.

With infinite gentleness, her lips reached for yours. Her hands slid softly into your hair, stroking your temples, easing away aches you hadn’t realised you had.

Letting your eyes drift closed, you leant into the kiss, abandoning yourself to the dreamlike unreality of it all. Your hands slid up to Eloise’s shoulders, feeling the warmth of her body through the fine lace and muslin of her dress, as warmth of an entirely different kind spread through you.

With a movement as soft as a sigh, your lips slid away from hers. They remained suspended in time, your lips a whisper above hers, your hands on her shoulders, her fingers still threaded in your hair.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

You pulled her tightly against you, rubbing your face in her hair and simply savoured having her. “Me too.”

As if to prove just how much you’d missed her, your lips followed the delicate curve of her jaw, down the elegant line of her throat, pausing long enough to hear the gasp she gave as your lips reached the sensitive hollow of her neck.

You were undone.

So was Eloise’s bodice; One gentle pull at the ribbon fastened at the neckline drew the fabric apart, allowing you better access to the top of her décolletage - which you were quick to add to your exploration.

Eloise arched in your arms, her nails digging into your back.

“Y/n,” she groaned in a way that made you suddenly wish you were in the safety of your bedroom, and not in the middle of a darkened garden. Then you could simply do away with the whole garment, altogether, rather than be forced to tease her so.

Still, you were enraptured by her flushed cheeks and the way she bit at her lip as she squirmed in your arms.

You were just lowering your lips, when a voice cut through your lust filled haze.

“What in the hell is going on here?”

Oh god.

You turned.

Eloise balked, hastily reaching to yank her dress back together and fasten the ribbon in place. However, it was too late to hide what you had been doing.

In front of you both loomed one of Eloise’s brothers – thankfully, the one you thought you liked you best, though that was of little comfort right then. After all, Benedict’s very posture crackled with rage and it looked like he couldn’t decide whether to strangle you or simply snatch his sister away and lock her in a tower until she was forty.

Either way, you were both in trouble.

“Oh f-”

#Bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton x you #eloise bridgerton x yn #Eloise Bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #masterlist #lesbian #Bisexual #pansexual #thesilentmage #ithebookhoarder #anthony bridgerton x you

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On Horikoshi's Writing of Women

This is posted as a stand-alone because lord knows I spent long enough on it, but it's in response to this ask:

This got lengthy, and it could be lengthier still—it's very easy to imagine doing a full-series breakdown on this like the heteromorphobia one I'm still slowly plugging away at—but the TLDR is that I think Horikoshi's women are perfectly acceptable as people, but become much more problematic when you start looking at them as characters.

Hit the jump.

BNHA's Women As People

As people—characters who act in ways reminiscent of real-life humans—Hori’s women are relatively solid, especially the 1-A students. They have varied personalities and body types,(1) loads of different interests and styles, and outside of the unified front against Mineta, they’re never really treated like a monolith. That is, no one (as best I can recall) makes big summary statements of Girls Like X or Girls Can’t Y that go uncontested by the narrative like you’d see in truly, openly sexist works.(2)

The worst I can say about the Class A girls' characterization is that they're all too nice, but I would contend that that's true of most of the students, which is why I don't care much about Class A: With the exception of Bakugou, they're all too nice, and it leaves them undernourished, dramatically speaking. But the girls at least aren't blandly nice; they do all have distinct personalities beyond, "Pretty and sweet."(3)

They also have trackable, unique relationships. Consider, for example, the difference between Uraraka’s relationships with Tsuyu and Mina, and how different either is from Momo and Jirou’s friendship! Further, they’re allowed to be friends with boys without it having to be romantic. Yeah, there’s Uraraka’s whole thing with Deku, and that’s a chore, but Kaminari and Jirou, or Kirishima and Mina, wherever they may wind up later in life, really are just friends right now—there’s no blushing or stammering or awkwardness going on between those pairs at all.

The Class A girls aren’t defined by their proximity to the nearest male—and that much, at least, is also true of the Pro Hero women like Mount Lady and Mirko. Hell, even someone like Nana—only in the story because of her relationship with/to men—is actually so important to so many men that I’d contend that she crosses out the other side and winds up in territory that is far more often populated by male heroes and mentors, people who might be dead but who mattered to a bunch of really important living characters.

Nana may be a Dead Mom, but she’s not a saintly photo on the mantelpiece, taken down to be remembered fondly by her widower. She’s All Might’s beloved mentor, yes, but she’s also the reason Kotarou was such a mess, which is in turn a huge part of Shigaraki’s damage. She’s the reason Gran Torino is involved in the plot at all. Even AFO seems to be able to make room to be especially vindictive about her compared to the way he talks about most or even any of the other bearers.

All that, and she even still gets to be “alive” inside One For All so we get to hear her opinions on things now and again!

Things are spottier with the lady villains—mostly because there are so few of them, and even fewer who walk out the other end of their arcs—but even there, I think there’s room for nuanced reads.

Magne’s motivations, such as we ever got of them, were all about being able to live freely.

Curious may have had that flashback to her blushing in front of Re-Destro, but the takeaway from it is how something he said inspired her to mature as a writer, not her being in looooove with him(4)—indeed, Geten is much more directly motivated by RD’s approval, and both Trumpet and Skeptic pivot entirely into being driven by fear for RD’s life the instant they think it might be in danger. Even now, every single one of Skeptic’s appearances from the cave onward sees him namedropping Re-Destro somewhere. So even if RD is Curious’s Most Important Person, that just puts her in good company with the rest of her peers.

Meanwhile, Lady Nagant is no more “defined by a man” than Hawks is “defined by a woman” because of the genders of their respective HPSC Presidents. The easy way out with Nagant would have been to have Bitty Keigo play some role in her turn—indeed, loads of people expected exactly that as soon as the audience realized who and what she was. But her President being a man is immaterial; the real entity that victimized Nagant is the HPSC as a governing body; its President was simply the face of that body, exactly the way President Pearls was to Hawks a generation later. Likewise, her turn isn’t because of her feelings about Some Guy, it’s because of her own awareness of the discordance between the façade and the reality of Hero Society.

Until either of the remaining PLF advisor women get anything to say, that brings us to Toga and La Brava. And okay, yes, La Brava is motivated entirely by a dude; there's no getting around that. On the other hand, I can’t help but compare her backstory to Spinner’s. Both of them suffered judgment and ostracization because of their quirks, both were hikikomori, and both had their lives changed because of a man they saw in a video who showed them a new world. Hell, Spinner had his life changed because of a man showing him a new world twice.

La Brava calls her feelings love, while Spinner calls his devotion, but it’s the same story, just wearing a different costume. At the very least, then, you can’t say that that plot is one Hori only gives women. Rather, I think it just ties into the broader theme of how the public consumes people they see on TV, for better or for worse. You could tie that to a lot of stuff in the series, including Deku’s own heroic aspirations as embodied by that iconic video of All Might he saw as a kid, Can’t-Ya-See-kun's fannish opinions about Endeavor’s heroic persona and his later attempts to reject Dabi’s video, the refugee civilians having to wrestle with the reality of heroes as opposed to watching them from the couch, and so on.

Meanwhile, Toga is so fascinating because, yes, her concerns and interests are stereotypically feminine—her appearance (both in the sense of cosmetic things like A-line coats but also her transformation quirk), cute things, talking about boys, relationships in general, her prioritization of her own inner landscape as opposed to big worldly ambitions.

On the other hand, Horikoshi really commits with Toga. She’s stereotypical in some ways—the predatory bisexual being a big glaring one—but she is in no way a shallow stereotype. The reader can’t just write her off as being a collection of tired tropes because of the degree to which the story insists on her being specific and deserving of attention. She’s not Like That because, for example, that’s what Horikoshi thinks of all bisexuals. She’s Like That because of an array of factors in her nature and nurture, her societal conditioning, her lived experience, others’ reactions to her, and so on. Bisexuality is really only the tiniest fraction of who Toga Himiko is. That’s my feeling, at least.

(As an aside to Anon's suggestion about Toga being polyamorous, while that is clearly the case in the sense that she freely falls in love with multiple people, rather than having monogamous affections, her being interested in poly relationships is much more in the air. As she is now, her idea of fulfilling love lies in becoming the object of her affections, not being with them. I feel like if she could find someone into bloodplay, she’d do just fine with that without having to get to the point of murder, but as it is, it doesn’t seem she or anyone she’s met has considered that an option. That being the case, we don’t know if she’d be willing to limit herself to taking only safe and consensually given amounts of blood, or if her desire to become the people she loves can only be satisfied by murdering the other party. If the latter, it rather takes romantic relationships off the table entirely!)

To sum up: As people, Horikoshi’s women are generally just fine. He was a wide variety of them and they all manage to stay pretty distinct! There are some that look more stereotypical than others, but even those still tie in well with the story’s overarching concerns or feel like sincere explorations of the stereotypes they represent.

Horikoshi’s problems with his female characters come in, to me, much more when you start looking at them as characters, instead of as people.

BNHA's Women As Characters

Consider the female characters in BNHA. Do their stories contribute in a major way to the narrative as a whole, or are they just side color? How much focus do they get? Are they granted comparable interiority as their male counterparts?

Given the story’s nature as a shounen battle comic, how many big wins do women get compared to the dudes, and are they fighting those battles against equally dangerous opponents? Do the women always and only fight other women? Do they only ever beat other women, but lose to men? How much would be lost or radically changed if they were removed from the story?

Mount Lady’s a fantastic example of the characterization/attention dichotomy. I’m inclined to agree with Anon that she’s probably Hori’s best lady-type Pro Hero, allowed to have real flaws, enough backstory to get an idea of where she’s coming from, and a startlingly clear character arc. However, unlike e.g. Endeavor, whose arc is taking place entirely in the foreground, given lavish amounts of time and attention, Mount Lady’s is all background. We don’t know what her crux point was in realizing that she needed to get her priorities in order, if she indeed ever had one. It’s possible she’s simply matured over the course of the story without ever quite clicking into Endeavor’s mode of self-reflection.

People like Ryukyu fall even farther behind. She’s been heavily involved in the climaxes of two major story arcs—the Shie Hassaikai arc and the War arc—yet we don’t know the first thing about her away from the job. Same with Mirko: She gets that huge blowout against the Near High Ends, but as far as what she wants, why she became a hero, what she thinks about this huge collapse she’s witnessing? Total blank slate.

And sure, that’s true of plenty of male heroes too—look at all Mount Lady’s teammates, for example—but we don’t have any female heroes equivalent to Endeavor, Hawks, or even Best Jeanist, the latter of whom has gotten ample room to espouse his ideals and a variety of his beliefs about heroes, even as we don’t know anything about his personal life.

I think Momo’s the clearest example of this issue on the student side. Virtually all of her development is narrated by other characters, mostly male ones, rather than the reader getting to see Momo’s own thoughts directly the way we do with buckets of male characters.

Momo contributed the tracker that got Deku and company to Kamino, but was given no contributions to the action of retrieving Bakugou. She’s ultimately the one who organized the students into dosing Gigantomachia,(5) which did eventually take effect some chapters later, but in the moment it happened, it looked like a failure, so instead of it being a big triumph for her, we had to see her and the rest on their knees in what seemed like a moment of total defeat.

Momo lost two mentors in the war—Midnight and Majestic. What does she think about that? Who knows? We’re just not privy to it. Momo spent her entire arc learning how to be more decisive and better at overseeing resources. Where is she now? Popping out industrial goods for a girl who doesn’t even know her name.

Meanwhile, we have things like the ludicrous disparity between Gran Torino, a shrunken geezer in his 70s getting punched through the chest by the final boss and surviving, and Midnight, a young and healthy 32-year-old getting merely jumped by a third-string PLF guy who hasn’t even gotten a name yet and then dying off-panel. Don’t get me wrong; I love Hose Face, and I don’t even mind that Midnight died as such. I mind that it was so ignominious compared to the fates of all the similarly important male heroes who took part in that battle.

Star & Stripe? She is alleged to be the strongest woman in the world, yet her arc could be removed from the story with zero consequences whatsoever. Everything she brings to the story is new for her arc; she doesn't resolve or remove anything save that which was introduced in her own set of chapters.(6) Her accomplishments are arbitrarily defined, and could be equally arbitrarily redefined without her.

That’s just a few examples of story structure issues, which is where my main concern lies, but you could certainly look at surface stuff, too.

Consider: Does the way women in the story dress match their personality? In movement and at rest, does their body language match who they are as people? How does the “camera” view them? Are they introduced as people or as collections of attractive body parts? Are they allowed the same range of expressiveness men are, or are they more limited because their anger or pain still has to be attractive to the presumed audience and/or the artist?

Some of this Hori does okay with—Mirko’s doing some fantastic angry glowering this week, and Toga can absolutely tip over into horror manga expressions sometimes, ones that are very clearly not intended to be sexy or cute. But he does sometimes let his women down on this front, too—speaking of Mirko in this week’s chapter, WOW, that sure is a boob hanging right there front and center at eye level, when it would have been so easy to just have ShigAFO’s hand-o-rama wrapped more fully around Mirko's torso.

Toga is a bit more complicated to me, in that, taking it at face value, I actually don’t really mind her frequent goopy unclothedness. Her posing in those scenes stays pretty true to her personality and the situations at hand, and she's drawn with what seem to be to be decently realistic curves and weightiness. Rather, the issue with Toga's nudity goes to another frequent problem with the way the women in the series get treated, and that’s the inconsistency between how men and women's quirks interact with clothes.

The go-to contrast here is Mirio and Hagakure. Neither of them can affect clothes with their quirk, but for some reason, Mirio can get a costume made out of his own hair and thus stay respectably clad during all his fights. Hagakure, by contrast, is noted more than once as fighting completely nude save for her gloves—why doesn’t she get the haircloth fix? If there’s an answer to this, it’s arbitrary.

Toga’s quirk would seem to be based in DNA, in that she requires blood to use it, but DNA certainly wouldn’t explain her ability to shapeshift clothes. It’s easier for the story if she can shapeshift clothes—it’d be a lot harder for her to impersonate specific costumed heroes if she didn’t have ready access to their costumes!—but it doesn’t make much sense as a blood-based ability. Taking it a step further, if she can shapeshift clothes because Magic Wand That Says She Can, why can’t she just change the shape of her own clothes? If her goop can change her body, why can’t it change her clothes? Because Magic Wand Says Then She Couldn’t Be Nakey When She Changes Back, that’s why.

For a contrast to Toga, consider the Hassaikai’s Mimic, whose power is to merge himself into objects, including ones much, much smaller than he is. Yet somehow he doesn’t have to strip before he merges or lose his clothes to the ether when he exits.

Midnight and Momo both have quirks that emit material from their skin, nominally justifying why their costumes are Like That. Okay, sure, but where are the equivalent male heroes who just have to wear skimpy or easily shredded costumes for reasons of quirk utility? Wash and Bubble Girl both emit bubbles from their bodies, but for some reason the dude wears a cartoony washing machine costume,(7) while the woman is saddled with an underboob-exposing crop top.

Suneater’s another easy referent; he transforms parts of his body into much larger animal parts, yet he still manages to have a costume that covers up everything except his feet. Even his arms are covered, when his arms are his most frequently transformed limb! He might have a bare spot on his back for his wings, but if so, the reader never gets to see it because Suneater wears an enormous hooded cape that covers that area right up.

It makes sense that Mirko would prefer to leave her legs bare, given her all-kicking fighting style—but Deku switches to a kicking style and just gets heavier, reinforced shoes. (To say nothing of All Might and other punchy heroes still having full sleeves, when you'd think the same reasoning would apply as does with Mirko's bare legs.)

Eri’s power only works on “people”—except that it totally works on clothes, too, otherwise we’d have to see a dude naked when her power separates Overhaul and Nemoto.

And so on and so forth. I don’t hold any of these individual examples against Horikoshi (except maybe Momo, who runs afoul of the “does this costume match this personality” critique pretty hard), but it really does become a bigger problem in the aggregate.

BNHA's Women In the Aggregate

And that’s kind of how I feel about a lot of it. I think Hori means well—you are never going to catch me out there yelling about how Horikoshi is just slobbering all over himself to brutalize his female characters—and he legit is doing better than a lot of other manga I’ve read. But then, I’ve read a lot of manga, you know? “Better at feminism than manga that say straight to the reader’s face that women will never understand a man’s desire to win,” is not a high bar.(8)

Regardless of Hori’s good intentions, though, I think Shounen Jump is not an environment that is challenging him to think more critically about his women, nor one that is pushing him to include them more or give them better material. He could absolutely do better, though, and yeah, I’m as tired as everyone else of new female characters who show up for a handful of chapters and then get obliterated by a villain or put on a bus to imprisonment and obscurity by the hero who defeats them.

If nothing else, I’ve got to hand that to Mirko. Down two limbs and that rabbit is still going strong, and not for one single second is there a suggestion that prosthetic limbs are going to slow her down or force her into retirement.

Thanks for the question, Anon, and sorry for taking so long with the reply!

---FOOTNOTES---

1: Not a huge variety, and the adult women have less than the high school cast, but I’ve read plenty of manga across all demographics that are far worse at having female characters you could distinguish by bald silhouette.

2: For some really clear examples, see e.g. everything the Death Note guy has ever written.

3: I might make an exception for poor Hagakure, who never had a chance to establish a personality because she needed to stay a viable candidate for the Traitor Plot. Definitely the most Generically Peppy of the girls, but at the very least she's balanced out some by male students like Ojiro, Sato and Koda in never getting enough attention to transcend their characterization shorthand.

4: And speaking as a writer, let me tell you, a critique like the one Rikiya offers in that flashback is absolutely the kind of thing that would leave me red in the face, but definitely not because I was internally swooning.

5: And even that isn't entirely her moment, given that it stems from her being ordered to do it by Midnight and ends with Kirishima getting the final move, a move he gets at Mina's expense.

6: Wow, a Reflect quirk! Neat! Wonder why that hasn't come up anywhere before? Regardless of the three sentence back-and-forth I could get into on that subject, Reflect is the only named quirk New Order destroys, and it was nowhere to be seen at either Kamino or Jakku.

7: Assuming, of course, that Wash isn’t a washing machine heteromorph. Jury’s still out on this.

8: See again a lot of Ohba's work, but the same sentiment is why I ragequit Megalobox in the first episode. Likewise, I will love Eyeshield 21 until my dying days, but I super could have done without that late-series swing at, "Mamori will never understand Sena's Man Feelings about Sports because she is A Girl."

#bnha #bnha meta #toga himiko #and piles and piles of other women too #class talk #stillness answers #stillness has salt #this is stillness's version of 'reining it in'#which is why my meta always takes so damn long #my writing

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