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targaryenrealnessdarling · 7 months

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| When One Possesses A Thing | Aemond/Married!Reader

Summary: She arrives to the Red Keep immensely dissatisfied with her marriage. Aemond proposes an alternative | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: mentions of being in an unhappy marriage, universe canon aversion of homosexuality, mentions of homosexuality being a sin, mentions of fertility, threats of death, voyeurism, breeding kink, size kink if you squint really hard, p in v sex

@ewanmitchellcrumbs Ty for reading this through first 😭

When Aemond was informed by his mother of the arrival of one Lord from the Riverlands, of whose name he could not even be bothered to remember, he’d merely turned his head away, resisting a shrug of his shoulders and expressing immense disinterest.

That was until, Aemond clapped eyes on his Lady wife.

He observed as she often held back behind her husband, hands clasped at the front, her fingers glimmering with golden rings and wrists with intricate bracelets, as well as one particular necklace that hung daringly around her neck, the pendant lingering above the cut of her dress with the shadow of her cleavage beneath.

They had, of course, arrived in celebration of King Viserys’ upcoming nameday. Not an event Aemond could say for himself that he would enjoy with any degree of certainty. He knew Aegon would find any excuse to drown himself in his cups and leer at the accompanying wives of the elder Lords, and that Helaena would simply attend, but be preoccupied with her thoughts and imagination as she so often was.

The Lord himself was tall, but slender, as if he had not broadened from age. Aemond observed that he seemed sprightly but aloof. Several times he forgot to make the proper pleasantries and introduce his own wife. Her gentle, warm face did not flounder with embarrassment, but she simply smiled, curtsied and introduced herself with a smooth, honey-like voice.

Her husband gave her a nod of the head, his mouth set into a frown as he whispered something to her as his companion threw his arm around the Lord and dragged him off to the closest place they could find wine.

The look on her face made it seem like this was a regular occurrence. Her husband snubbing her in favour of spending time with his male friends, not really even bothering to ask what she would do to occupy herself in a new, strange environment.

She slipped away like a whisper, a cloud of silks billowing behind her as she made for any spot within the Red Keep that might entertain her. Alone.

Several laps through the decorated hallways, brushes through the gardens and wanderings past the Library later, she soon found herself face to face with the skull of a dragon, hung high above a table thick with candle wax, hardened from the years of merely replacing them. The stench of tallow was overwhelmed somewhat by the dampness of the cavernous space, and the smoking incense placed at each corner of the table.

The skull was enormous. Bigger than any animal she had ever seen on land. Those big sockets where its eyes used to be staring down at her, sucking her into its world of rich histories and conquerors.

“My Lady”

The echo of Aemond’s voice did not make her jump, but it did steal her attention, her waves rolling over her shoulder as she turned to see the source.

He could not help but marvel at her grace and the way her dress, so traditionally worn, happened to hang off her body in the most tempting of ways, emphasising her womanly curves. Though he had one eye, he himself could not miss the pressing of her breasts against the front of her corseted garment.

“My Prince” she greeted in the same manner of tone as him, her lips turning upwards almost indistinctively as she gave a polite curtsy. He gave her a small bow back, intrigued.

He took wide, calculated strides towards her into the candlelight. And she watched as his form came out of the darkness, his silver Targaryen hair illuminated by the warmth around them.

“Do you know his name?” he asked, in a manner that insisted he might have been testing the young woman.

“Of course” she answered calmly, “Balerion. Ridden by Aegon the Conqueror, was he not?”

Aemond bowed his head, one eyebrow twitching, as if he had not actually expected her to know. This Riverland bound beauty was a surprise at every turn. He did not respond, feeling his expression was enough.

And it seemed she understood, as she smiled.

“I am no historian, my Prince. But it is difficult to feign ignorance to the victories that have been written of Targaryens”

He bit back a grin. Feeling his ego inflate somewhat.

“So you read then, my Lady?”

She cocked her head, “You seem surprised”

“Not surprised” he answered immediately, standing a good distance from her, “Merely intrigued”

He watched with further interest how her eyes were level with his chest, and how they dragged from the dragon-embellished doublet, over his neck, and to his gaze again.

“I do indeed enjoy reading” she mused, as if the suggestion she did not would have offended her.

“Only history?”

“Of all genres” she adds, with a knowing smile, “All such subjects are of interest to me”

They fell into comfortable silence, listening to the wafting of the candle flames whipping in the soft breeze.

Her shoes clicked in a satisfying way as she turned back to the great skull.

“The King rode the Black Dread, did he not?”

Aemond fought back the urge to kiss his teeth, feeling as if at this moment, as he was lusting for the woman stood beside him, how much he did not want to think about his father.

“He did”

She turned to him, perhaps recognising the lack of affection in his reply.

“I suppose it is of no great merit to you, my Prince. As you claimed Vhagar after all”

“Vhagar is my pride” he answered, feeling warmth inside him as she recognised his efforts, one which cost him his eye.

“As all dragons should be to Targaryens” she offered, “she is certainly a marvel. My Lord husband can barely tame a horse”

He laughed through his nose at her quip. Being able to envision the moment exactly as she described it.

“And pray tell, how long have you been wed, my Lady?”

He almost regretted asking, seeing how her smile suddenly disappeared from her face. Like the sun had gone behind a cloud. She looked down, preoccupied with smoothing down her dress.

“Several years now”

“And no children?” he adds, watching the way she bites her lip, thinking he cannot see it.

“My husband does not enjoy the act of procreation”

His head tips at her reply. Perhaps not having expected her to be so honest.

“And what does your husband enjoy doing?”

Sighing distantly, her eyes ticked over to him, “Riding”, she replies simply.

His lips part to reply, and yet he does not have time to interject.

“Other men at least”

Silence falls between them at the weight of what she’s said.

"A fact he conveniently kept hidden from me until marriage, I may add".

For a moment he is unsure what to say, as she stands, a sad, resigned smile on her face, waiting for him to reply.

“I see”

Absentmindedly, she wanders along the table, her hand running over the hardened wax.

"I care not of his affections for men. I only care that he does not conjure up the respect for me as he does his bedfellows" she sighs, “though as I am sure you understand, my Prince. As his wife, I must support him”.

“Even if what he does is a sin?”

It’s like she had expected that question. Something akin to a grimace appearing, “Even that”.

She sighs, “I must bear the brunt of the rumours surrounding my fertility and commitment to my marriage. Protect myself, where my husband cannot”.

“He does not protect you?”

“If we are speaking plainly, my husband rarely acknowledges my existence” she answers, her fingers playing nervously with one another, “more a hindrance than say, a life partner”.

“Then, if I might be so bold to say, you are doing more of your own duty than he is. The scales are unbalanced, so to speak”.

Her head raises to look at him, something playful lighting up her features, “And what is a husband’s duty?”.

“To protect his wife, of course”

She pauses. Knowing she cannot disagree to that.

In any normal marriage, that is exactly what she would expect.

“And a wife’s is to provide him with children”

“That is no fault of yours, if you are to be believed” he raises an eyebrow. Attempting despite his nature, to be somewhat comforting.

She smiles again, laughing half-heartedly, her hand slipping from the table to wander about the room, trying to free herself from the stifling feeling of being close to him.

He remembered reading a book of loose morals, which at the time he recalled feeling indifferent towards, about the late Lady Coryanne Wilde, detailing her multiple escapades of lovers, indulging in the desires which had long been suppressed by women before and after her.

“And you do not seek pleasure elsewhere?” he asked, hoping the suggestion would not offend her. But if he had studied her well enough in this short time he’d known her, he was confident it would not.

She smiled, her head lowered to the candles on the opposite side of her table. Her face illuminated warmly.

“Gossip is a ghastly thing” she stated, “Once a small fire is started then my dishonourable actions only fan the flames. I do not wish to be the subject of such disapproval, as I already am in my Lord’s eyes. And perhaps the Gods too”

“And yet, your husband has a lover”

Not a question, and her gaze averted at the tone of the statement.

“His advisor. And childhood companion” she nods.

“In my view, it is only fair that he allow you to seek one”

“Perhaps that is where you are mistaken, my Prince. For I am the one with the womb” she responded, “therefore, I must bear the humiliation along with it”.

Her gaze longingly lowered, and it did not go amiss that it happened to graze over his tall, broad form.

"In any case, it does not matter. Any children we would have had would be his, not mine"

That was true as well, Aemond mused.

"His heirs. His future.

"By refusing to allow me to give him children, he is only doing more damage to his own house. 'Tis of no consequence to me".

She had done one lap of the large, candle adorned table.

"You seem perfectly resigned to your fate, my Lady"

She hums. Standing before him, his eye raked over her, yearning for her, having had such an intelligent conversation with her.

"Perhaps I am. My husband is young. Barely half a decade older than I" she says, "it stands to reason, I may be tied to him for quite some time".

Aemond cannot argue with that, try as he might.

Everything she has said so far, has been sensible.

So he nods, "now, that is a sad thought" he muses.

It was only then either of them had realised how quiet their conversation had become, and how low his voice was when he spoke to her. It was difficult to deny how close they were to one another, in a manner most unbecoming of a single man and a married woman.

And yet neither of them moved away.

It was unfortunate, her situation. And though he knew it might have been wrong of her to simply sit idly by, while her husband amused himself with his male lover, he could not find it in himself to reproach her.

“Am I not how you envisaged, my Prince?”

He fought the urge to chuckle, “Not in the slightest”.

She bit her lip, to fight back a smile, realising perhaps she was doing so too much in his presence.

“That I was an intemperate wife, refusing to perform my duties? That I am barren, and incapable of giving him heirs?”

He felt his hands form fists behind him.

“I would not think such things”

“Hm” her eyes once again went over him in a way that made him go all warm, “You are not how I envisaged, either”.

“How so, my Lady?” Aemond asked, amused that she had formed her own opinion before properly meeting as well.

"Many at court say you are tempestuous. Stubborn. Proud" she says, "and you very well may be all of those things. All pejorative descriptors. And yet…there is something else".

He wanted to laugh at that. Of course the other Ladies at Court had opinions of him that were unsavoury, given his common disposition.

"I can be all those things, it is true" Aemond replies, "above all those, some say I am too particular. That I require too much in a person to respect them".

She tipped her chin up, meeting his gaze head on, but also emboldened by what she perceived was an intimate conversation.

“And what is it you require?”

He licked his teeth, smiling, watching her eyes as she stares at the way his lips turned upwards. As if entranced.

“A wit” he states, “a passion” he purrs.

The tone does not go unnoticed. Aemond watches with satisfaction as she swallows thickly, now seemingly uncomfortable standing still on the spot. Her breasts pressed repeatedly and steadily against the corset of her dress as her breathing picked up.

“"And is that what you desire? Someone to match your wit? Your passion?"

All the air was thick in the room as he took one careful step forward, leaning over her, now able to see more of the shadow of her cleavage beneath the silks. Her cheeks bloomed with colour, but she dare not move off her spot.

“Perhaps”.

He could hear her breath. Like he was tuned to it already. The humming of her blood beneath her flesh felt invigorating, and for one brief moment, Aemond allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to sink his teeth into her, to taste her. To try and sense who she really was, what her desires were.

She shivered at his warm breath at the side of her face.

“"I could protect you, my lady" he whispers, blinking longingly, voice like the purr of a cat, "your husband cannot".

"If you were mine, you'd not want for desire. Nor affection. I would keep you round with child, you’d be such a beautiful mother with my heir inside you”.

She gasps at the blatancy of it, for they had for several moments danced around such a subject, in favour of decorum and manners. And now her chest rose and fall steadily with every utterance, "I am a married woman-"

"To a man who does give a shit about duty. About you" he counters, “nor your desires”.

“‘Tis not my husband’s nocturnal activities that vex me, my Prince, it is his lack of respec-”

"I would have you. Respect you. Ravage you"

For a moment, her mouth slams shut, fearing that her reaction to his flagrant desire for her would expose her.

“A good gentleman. A good man…rises above such mortal things as lust".

There she goes again, trying to be the ever-good wife to her husband, who even now, perhaps does not even know her true whereabouts.

"Then perhaps I am not a good man" he replies, "and perhaps it is not merely lust".

"What then?" she asks quickly.

There is a beat. Aemond wets his lips, watching as she trembles at his proximity. Each breath wafting the curls either side of her face.

“Intrigue”.

She swallows again, attempting to brush off the heavy tension with a half-laugh, “I'm afraid intrigue does not free me of my situation, my Prince".

Aemond hums, righting himself to full height, not stepping away from her, but rather using his size to his advantage by having her crane her neck to meet gazes. With a simple shuffle of his boots, he manages to manoeuvre her body without touching her, doing exactly as he planned and forcing her own feet to stagger backwards.

"Then how unfortunate it would be, for a terrible accident to befall your husband".

Her wide eyes caught the light of the candles as her back met the adorned table.

He did not stop coming towards her.

Not until he was so close, that one exhale, and he would be pressed flush.

Her cheeks bloomed once more for him.

Aemond feigns a thoughtful expression, “Infection, as a result of injury?” he questions, “No. Too slow”.

The air felt humid and she felt her core clench around nothing realising what he wanted.

Aemond’s large palms, even through the layers of silks, felt as if they were branding the very skin of her thighs as he lifted her onto the table.

"Perhaps paying a servant to poison his wine?"

She made no protest, her eyes glimmered with anticipation when she felt his calloused, sword-worn fingers drift along her calves to lift her skirts. The air, though warm, prickled at her flesh merely at the idea of what he planned to do to her.

“I know” he smiled, watching as she gasped sharply as he pulled her thighs towards him, standing between her outstretched legs as they squeezed his hips.

“Thrown off his horse and trampled to death?"

He dragged his nose over her cheek, watching her eyelashes flutter at the sensation, his fingers digging into the meat of her thighs, dying to rip her smallclothes to shreds.

He whispered, placing a loud, open-mouthed kiss to the space between her ear and neck. She shivered in his touch, though not revealing any intimate part of her body, she felt very much as if he had peeled back her being, and stared into her soul.

“A fitting end”.

She exhaled with difficulty, feeling it catch in her throat as Aemond teasingly wrapped two fists around her smallclothes and tore without mercy to the fabric.

He raised his head only slightly, to see the reaction he had extracted from her.

Her eyes were shut, her lips parted for breath.

"Gods, you look like a maiden when I touch you" he whispered appreciatively.

A pitiful moan fell from her lips as Aemond drew two digits up her womanhood, collecting the slick he knew would be there on his fingertips. Her hand tightened on his leather-clad arm, needing somewhere to express this overwhelming feeling.

"It is because it is you who has touched me like this for the first time".

His eye darkened, the colour eclipsed by black.

“Your husband has not even touched you?”

She shook her head softly, now revealing what embarrassment she had desperately kept inside for so long.

“The marriage was consummated…but that was all…” she answered through hurried breaths as Aemond drew patterns on her pearl with the aid of her wetness, "he would not touch me after that..."

"And you did try, didn't you? To tempt him? Like a good little wife?"

"Y-yes...but he refused..." she answered, her voice wavering, "...he would not even share a bed with me..."

He chuckled, "Then we had best make this a memorable occasion, then. My Lady”.

Having used his other hand to unlace his breeches, he released his cock, groaning with relief as he stroked himself, squeezing arousal from the ruddy tip.

Nobody was more surprised than Aemond, when his lady reached down between them to stroke him with smooth, languid motions, her hand in opposition to his, barely encircling his length.

Their hedonistic expressions met. His breath coming in short bursts with every squeeze of her palm around his throbbing arousal.

“I do not wish for him to die” she breathed, her voice heavy, “only for him to disappear. So that I may pursue my own happiness”.

He cocked his head.

“I do not wish to be a murderer”.

She was quite a woman, Aemond thought. Having gotten him this close to having her, and only now making demands, as if he could refuse her.

He smirked.

“Then it shall be done”.

With the promise sealed, she guided his length between her legs, angling her hips up for him as his cockhead kissed her slick folds. Impatient as Aemond was, he moved forward in one motion, watching her throw her head back as he sheathed the entirety of himself within her.

Her cunt squeezed his cock like a maiden, and yet she did not protest to his harsh treatment of her, in fact, spurring him on with the sounds she was making, clutching onto the front of him with every sharp, true and deep thrust of his cock into her.

"Gods - you are as tight as a maiden - squeezing my cock so tightly - "

One hand stayed around her back to keep her flush to him, sliding up her spine, long fingers threading through her hair at the base of her neck and pulling on her for leverage, using his hold on her body to fuck himself into her. Her breasts, beneath her dress, ached to spring free from their passionate movements, jolting the gold necklace held snugly there.

Aemond was entirely entranced by the image he saw when he looked between them, his cock driving into her with fevor, glazed with her arousal and meeting her fleshy hips with a wet smack each time.

“I’ll have my heirs inside you in no time, Princess” he whispered, pressing his lips against the column of her throat, parting them once in a way to nip at her tender skin, “you shall have everything you desire”.

Her half-lidded eyes opened, the pressure in her core building excessively at the force of him driving so quickly into her, in this position, pulling her onto his length aggressively, bullying a rough, pleasurable place inside her she was not able to reach herself.

“What is it you desire, Princess?” he asks, his thrusts becoming somewhat stuttered and messy, his eye screwing shut as his body wound tight, ready to burst at any moment. His hair stuck irritatingly to his forehead and face, from the exertion of fucking her.

“You…Aemond - you...”

He grinned, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, watching her warmed cheeks and body jolting with each smack of his hips. He felt her cunt flutter around him and reached down to apply the same pressure as he had before to her bud, to which she let out a near choked-moan, one hand tightening onto his doublet and the other white-knuckled holding onto the table, emboldened by the act and the fact that they could be caught at any moment in such a disastrous position.

He watches with excitement as she peaks around his length, her cunt sucking him within her from the pressure of her destructive orgasm, just begging for him to spend inside her, and hopefully, in nine moons time, round and large with his heir.

With a choked, staggered moan of his own, Aemond grips her so tightly, she would surely bruise, as he spills himself inside her hot, wet cunt. Filling her impossibly and entirely with his hot, sticky spend, thrusting shallowly to ensure it is as deep inside her as possible. His cock throbs with utter desire, hearing the little mewls of moans still falling from her glistening lips.

She whines softly when he pulls out of her, watching with intense satisfaction at how his arousal as well as hers has made her womanhood glisten.

“You will really do it?...” she asks, still catching her breath.

Aemond huffs a laugh, tucking his softening length back into his breeches, “For your sweet cunt, I am confident I would do anything”.

His Lady smiles back, exhaustedly, pulling her tattered smallclothes off her legs, watching with both confusion and brief fear when Aemond smoothes his silver hair down and walks away.

“Where are you going?” she asks after him, pulling her skirts down.

He half turns, flashing a signature smirk.

“To ask your husband and lover to join me on a hunt. My dear Princess”.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep

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cloudaxolotl07 · 2 months

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Here are the official looks for the Bishops in my Beyond au!

They all have the golden skull necklaces but they are just hidden under layers of fabric COUGH I DIDNT JUST FORGET THEM ON ACCIDENT-

Info on each character below!

Shamura

Shamura is the eldest of the 5 siblings and is the Historian and Teacher for the Cult. Shamura is a calm and kind spirit, though if you annoythem enough, they’ll start to disent a little, causing ichor to pour from their wounded head. They can get slight brain fog pretty often during the day but they somehow appear on time to events or remember things when the memory returns after a while. Although Shamura was the ex bishop of War, they are quite the tactical thinker and fighter; quick on their feet and always knows how to take their enemies down when necessary. They assist with educating the younger members of the cult and is quite intelligent in many subjects even if they have brain damage from long ago. They mainly on their free time or when not with any of the kids, they tend to hide in the library, reading in silence.

Kallamar

Kallamar is the second oldest out of the 5 siblings and is the Chief Medical officer in the Cult. Kallamar likes to act prideful and has a bit of an ego, though truly he is a coward at heart. He has sensitive hearing due to the damage inflicted from Narinder, so loud noises can cause pain to him. Being the ex bishop of pestilence, he has the vast knowledge in medicine and medical practice, with that knowledge were they given the job to look after the health of the followers in the Cult. He loves to collect anything he deems beautiful and is sparkling; always wearing some form of jewelry on him wherever he goes on the cult grounds.

Heket

Heket is the second youngest out of the 5 siblings and is the Cult’s Chief Guard. Heket is quiet and stoic, but caring when it comes to her siblings and the followers of the cult. People, especially children tend to get intimidated when first meeting her, but they easily warm up when eating her delicious food she prepares during breakfast, lunch and dinner. She isn’t able to speak all that well and speaking up never goes well for her as she easily gets ichor filling her mouth to the point of dirtying her lungs, causing coughing fits from time to time. Her siblings however can easily understand what she tries to say when reading her body language, facial expressions or listening for her quiet mumbling; except Leshy for most of the time.

Leshy

Leshy is the youngest of the 5 siblings and is the Chief Farmer for the Cult. Leshy is hot-tempered and chaotic in nature and easily can get embarrassed or offended by small things either when people make fun of him or question his looks and/or intellect. Leshy is completely blind when using his eyes, but he soon made a friend who helps him get around far distances in the Cult. Growing up mainly in the Darkwood, he knows plenty about taking care and nurturing plant life, always knowing what each plant in the cult farms needs to grow to their fullest potential. He relies on his siblings to also help him with either hiding or getting from one place to another when Collie can’t. A small thing he appreciates though is on warm and sunny days, he likes to bathe in the sun, feeling the warmth on his body. A small detail about Leshy is when he expresses heavy emotions or feelings, flowers of different kinds tend to sprout from his body depending on how he’s feeling at the time, mainly they blossom on his head.

#cotl #cotl au #cotl fanart #cult of the lamb #cult of the lamb fanart #cotl leshy #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #cotl bishops #cult of the lamb au #cotl bts au #cotl beyond the shores #beyond the shores au #~doodles

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star-sim · 19 days

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california dreamin' ☆ jay park

☆ non-idol! jay x fem! reader ☆ summary: in the final months of your relationship, jay reminisces the taste of beach waves, southern california, and you. ☆ genre: fluff, angst (ish), 80's au + timeskip, this is set in southern california, classic rich boy x alt girl ☆ warning(s)? brief mentions of poor parenting ☆ word count: 1.6k words ☆ this is my entry for @flwrstqr and @cupidhoons polaroid love event! based off of "california dreamin" by the mamas and papas, love the retro cali aesthetic

"Do you want to run away with me?"

Jay pulled the salted caramel apple lollipop away from his lips, the sour taste lingering on his tongue as its crystalline texture rolled against his tastebuds. His brows crashed together.

"What?" he eyed you quizzically, but you kept your eyes trained on the deep blue water that swayed against the coast.

"It's obvious that we're not wanted here," you said plainly.

Jay sucked in a sharp breath, his hand jerking out to clutch your shoulder. "That's not—"

"There's no point in denying it," you shot him a look. Your next words came out wry and bored, almost like you're annoyed, but Jay could tell that you were feeling the exact opposite. "You know damn well that your parents couldn't care less about you, and my old man's always too busy to remember whether or not I left the house."

The corner of your lips quirk up, a dry grin spreading across your face as you reached across to smack Jay's arm playfully. "No one will notice if we're gone."

Words bled onto his tongue, threatening to spill out, but Jay held them in.

After all, you were correct.

Jay met you in the summer of 1987. You were both sixteen, and Jay recognized you from his sophomore chemistry class— how could he miss your smudged eyeliner and black nail polish? The difference this time was that you were the cashier at the surf shop next to his dad's private beach.

Maybe it was the way you chewed pink bubblegum boredom, giving him a deadpan expression as he spluttered out your name, or maybe it was the fact that even in ninety degree Southern California weather, you still managed to wear a black bikini top with skulls and rhinestones on it, but Jay found himself frequenting that surf shop a little too much that summer.

Yes, it was his fourth time coming into this surf shop in one afternoon.

Yes, he didn't need to take his time looking at each and every shell necklace on the display next to the cash register.

Yes, he knew all about surfboards and most definitely did not need to ask for your assistance.

Yes, he knew that you were staring at the water droplets rolling down his chest as he ran his hand through his wet hair, his sun-kissed skin glistening under the golden sunlight.

Yes, he knew was staring at your bikini top, but any man in his position would do the same.

And yes, he knew that you knew that he knew this.

That didn't stop Jay, though.

If there was something that his absent father was able to do for him, it was to teach him to never have shame. That's why Jay shamelessly walked into that surf shop every day, just to see you.

It took a few (multiple) tries before you agreed to go on a date with him. He brought you flowers, necklaces, rings, handbags, all kinds of luxury items, but you ignored him each time.

It wasn't until Jay noticed the bracelet on your wrist— it had a frayed tassel and seashells of different sizes, some of them chipped and others burned by the sun— that he realized what he should bring you instead of expensive gifts.

Alas, a clumsily-made bracelet composed of mismatched seashells that was just a little too big for your wrist. When Jay presented it to you, a proud grin on his face, it must have been the first time that he'd ever seen you smile.

Since the summer of 1987, you and Jay agreed to keep your relationship secret, because people always had stuff to say. You were going strong, and what made summer the best was that you could freely love your boyfriend without the pondering eyes of your peers.

Two years later, it was the summer of 1989, and you and Jay were now sitting on the ledge before the beach. In a few weeks, summer would end, and you and Jay would be apart. But this time, apart for longer than you'd ever been. You were staying in California for university, but Jay's parents were sending him out of state.

Soon, it would be autumn, and you would have to say goodbye to not just Jay crawling through your bedroom window, sneaking out to the local beachside diner, slipping love notes into each other's lockers, and making out behind the bleachers, but also running your fingers through his chlorine-bleached hair and feeling the warmth of Jay's body as the two of you napped in the sun.

Jay looked at your face. Under the orangey sunset, he could see the light reflecting off your eyes. With the scent of peach in the air, and the glow of your skin, Jay's chest felt heavy.

How could he possibly leave you? How could he leave you when you tasted like California?

Yeah, it would be hard to say goodbye to you.

It would be hard to say goodbye to you, and nobody else.

Jay's eyes fell to the bandaid on your palm.

He knew you'd think the same about him.

There was a reason that you and Jay got on so well.

For one, it seemed like Jay was the last thing on his parent's to-do list. His only purpose was to carry on the family name and live out their legacy. But if neglecting their son and being absent in his life was their legacy, he didn't want any part in it. There was a reason that Jay spent every day of summer at the beach, not at home.

As for you, Jay hated your dad. He'd never forget all the times you ran to him, tears and smudged eyeliner running down your cheeks. You insisted that you were okay, but Jay had to bite his tongue so hard that he bled to keep his mouth shut.

In a few weeks, Jay will be the Park family's heir studying out-of-state, and you'll be you from California.

But for now, it was just Jay and you, sharing a lollipop at the beach, basking in the humid night air and listening to the waves.

You gave him another sly grin. You repeated your question. "Do you want to run away with me?"

You always liked to smile like that when you were upset about something; it was your way of concealing your feelings, but Jay knew you better than anyone.

Jay's thought about running away before. Many times, actually. And he's thought about running away hand-in-hand with you more times than he could remember.

Jay slid his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"You know we can't," he said against your forehead, though the way that he held you close said otherwise.

"Says who?" you hummed, resting your head on his strong shoulders, taking in the scent of seaweed, sea salt, and Jay's faint cologne.

Jay stayed silent. He knew that answer to that question.

Says no one.

"Seeeee?" you dragged your syllable, a cute lilt in your voice. You slithered your arm around Jay's torso, poking his side. "Nothing— no one— is stopping us."

Jay chuckled, squeezing your waist twice. "Where would we go if we ran away?"

With you gently clutching his jaw, pressing wet kisses along his skin, you breathed, "Anywhere we want."

You cupped his cheek. In the winter, his skin was paler, but in the summer he was a golden honey tan. His cheeks, as a result of being in the sun nearly every day for the past three months, were littered with blotches of brown, red, and pink. With a gentle finger, you slowly dragged it against his skin, connecting each blemish to each other with invisible lines.

"What about Houston?" Jay rasped, leaning into your touch. "I know you've always wanted to go there."

"Well, where do you want to go?"

Jay thought for a moment. "Either up north to Seattle— or maybe London— What about NYC?."

You stared at him quizzically, your eyes narrowing and your lips turned downward; you always did that when you were hiding something.

"What?" Jay nudged you.

"I dunno," you shrugged. "I feel like those places are just so uncharacteristic for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged again, your bottom lip jutting out. "I thought you were a sunshine typa guy." Your eyes flickered up to him. "All those places are so gloomy."

"I mean," your boyfriend sucked in a sharp breath. "I guess. Maybe I just want some change. California is beautiful, but...."

He trailed off.

"But?"

"I want to explore more, yanno? Get to know places outside of California."

You didn't press any further.

The rest of the night was quiet, only the taste of disappointment, longing, and the salted caramel apple lollipop lingering on your tongues.

This was all but a memory to Jay.

He gazed outside the window, tuning out the voice of yet another woman in his living room.

Jay ended up studying in Seattle, just as his parents had wanted. It's been years since he left California. Him and you ended up breaking up on good terms for the sake of distance, and he eventually lost contact with you. He met a few other women, tried out dating them, but it never ended up working out.

There was no place else like California.

It seemed like everywhere else, all the leaves were brown, and the sky was gray. Dreary, gloomy, and full of clouds, so unlike the sunny and golden California.

It took Jay a long time to realize that the reason he longed for California again was not because of the constant smell of sunscreen or sound of synth music pervading the streets. It wasn't the laughter that seemed to bounce off the walls or the vibrant color-grade over every memory in his mind.

He longed for California because he longed for you.

You were California.

And for a while, he'd be dreaming of California.

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #park jay x reader #park jay #park jongseong #jay fluff #jay fic #jay angst #park jay fic #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong fluff #star-sim #vanya-writes

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cannibalcaprine · 1 year

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wanna try one of those "russian roulette" polls, hang on

before is an ancient tomb of treasure, gleaming in the light of your lantern, nine of them are free for the taking, but one, often taken the most, will kill you upon contact

you consider your options, trying to avoid glancing at the dusty bones at your feet

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mtsodie · 3 months

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please god give me more golden skull necklaces orz

#cotl #cult of the lamb #clauneck #cotl lamb #mystic seller #🎨

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kekaki-cupcakes · 6 months

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Hi luv! May I req for Leo falling for a mischievous (cat-like personality) demigo (maybe ares, idk) after she beats him while sparring so he continuously asks her to spar just to spend more time together (and maybe she knows it and just plays along, maybe tells him she’ll go on a date with him once he beats her?). Idk this was just an idea, thought I got. Do not feel pressured or anything obvs!

Heya this has been in my inbox for a while and I finally got a good idea lol cause I don't wanna be posting half assed WIP's. [this is also combined with a request for Leo Valdez x daughter of Athena reader I got a while ago btw]

Enjoy <3

love is stronger then everything [except Clarrise, of course] ---Leo V x Daughter of Athena reader

»»————-　★　————-««

Leo was a mastermind.

Like, obviously you were the daughter of Athena, but he was the one behind it all. He was just… so smart. It was unbelievable sometimes. Not to be big headed or anything, he was just the most intelligent person in the room.

Well, in this scenario, it wasn’t the room, it was the arena. And that’s about where his cunning brain cells decided to sit on the bench and do their nails with Piper.

He’d tell them off later, if he ever survived the sharp eyed sharp edged girl in front of him who was somehow holding a war axe made of solid imperial gold over her shoulder like it was nothing. The sight of your arms distracted him of his incoming death momentarily, but then you just had to open your mouth. “

“Valdez, are you gonna spar with me, or was the six step official challenge at breakfast with a disco ball and three tonnes of strawberries for nothing?”

“Four tonnes, actually,” he managed to squeak out, and then shifted his grip on the sword he’d borrowed from Jake, who’d only laughed in his face when Leo told him he’d challenged you.

Judging by the way you fiddled with your camp beads necklace and then swung the smooth golden axe stained with something remarkably similar to human blood, Jake was right. Leo gulped and stepped back, ready to scramble out of the way and clang his too big sword against the edges of the axe he only just realized were sharp enough to cut through bone.

You seemed to pity him as well, which Leo didn’t appreciate, but at least you gave him a few extra seconds to scramble out of the way.

A moment later there was sand in his eyes churned up by your sneakers, the ones with little green string snakes as laces. He vaguely remembered snakes being a symbol of Athena, only that thought was scrapped when he had to step back to avoid having his skull split in half.

Piper cheered sarcastically and passed Jason a leftover strawberry from this morning’s events.

You spun around and the axe made a crater in the sawdust covered ground. Leo turned and half heartedly swung his hammer at your shoulder, but you dipped back and knocked it out of his hands in less then a second, leaving him defenseless.

Leo launched himself backwards and felt his shoe skid on the ground, sawdust billowing up into his vision as gravity decided to ruin his day, and his dignity.

He was contemplating just falling asleep right then and there, when a gray sliver appeared in front of him. He had to cross his eyes to identify the metal poking his nose as the tip of your war axe. Leo just got comfy on the ground, resting his hands beneath his head as you glared.

Apparently you weren’t satisfied with the early defeat, gray eyes narrowed as you snapped. “What on Olympus was that, Valdez?”

“Me fighting?” He asked hopefully, squinting up as the sun angled itself behind you. He brushed away the thought that it made you look a bit like an angel, despite the frown on your face and the weapon at his throat.

“Well you aren’t any good at it, so don’t bother,” you said, hooking the axe over your shoulder and marching off. “I have to go help Beth with the capture the flag plans.”

Leo huffed, blowing a strand of his curly brown hair out of his face and grinning up at the roof, which swirled a little. He might’ve bumped his head a little too hard, now that he thought about it.

Then another face swam in front of him and Piper popped a bubble that smelt vaguely of grapes. She looked towards where you’d disappeared out the arena’s swinging double doors. “What in the ever loving fucknuggets was that, Valdez?”

“I liked their version better,” Leo grumbled, and sat up slowly, feeling his bones groan internally at him. “And it’s not my fault their fit. And strong. ANd have a huge weapon. And pretty eyes. And-”

“And a nice ass?”

“Yep, especially in those camo pan- why are you looking at their ass?” Leo asked suspiciously. Taking a hand from Piper to get up properly. He stretched his arms above his head and tried to stop thinking about your butt. It didn’t really work very well, and then his thoughts skipped along to your thighs and the really cool scar along one and he missed half of what Jason was saying in between the smile he was trying to hide.

That didn’t matter very much though, because Leo was struck with the best idea in the history of children born of the literal ideas god. Well, maybe that was Athena, not Hephestus, but your parents were a problem for later. Way later. Like when you’d decided Leo was more than just a rock stuck in your shoe.

That was something he could work on though.

He just had to impress you so much that you’d agree to go out with him. Building something cool would be the immediate option, but he built cool things everyday. It wasn’t easy, per-say, but it wasn’t a date-worthy achievement.

Piper snapped her fingers in front of his face and Leo jerked his head back, “huh? Sorry I was just thinking…”

“About what? Finally giving up on-”

“Imma single handedly win capture the flag!”

»»————-　★　————-««

You handed out the last of the helmets, blue plumes dotting the crowd of demigods jostling around and yelling about lice and how their butterfly clips wouldn’t fit underneath the bronze.

You chose to ignore those ones and turned back to the little canvas tent someone had dragged out from Bunker 9 to set up base in, even though it couldn’t be used during the actual game. You weren’t actually sure what the point of it was, but Clarrise deemed it necessary, and you decided not to argue with her, in the interest of living.

The Athena cabin had managed to swoop in and ally with the Ares cabin before Connor got there, so you managed to rein in the help of Butch and his siblings [which meant that the Red team would have quite a few problems involving pegasi droppings in the hours to come], the two twins of Nike, the Dionysus and Hebe kids, as well as the smattering of Aphrodite kids that were ready to get blood under their perfectly done nails. A few of them seemed too happy about that prospect, but Drew had heart shaped arrows and Charmspeak, so you ignored the fact Lacey was singing about chopping off heads.

Annabeth propped her sneakers up on the table, smudging mud on the map of the forest as she did so, to tie up her laces. “So, we’ve got puddles of pegasi shit under the leaves, I asked Holly and Laurel who could make the most nets so we’ll have enough to trap most of the Hermes cabin under by the time we start, and then Clarrise and her lot can just heavily maim the rest.”

“Nice,” you noted, and pushed the coloured pins for each demigod wiping blue warpaint across their cheeks around the map to their places. “We’re against Will’s dickwits, so they’ll do that thing and keep the sun behind them to blind everyone on our team.”

Annabeth fiddled with her camp necklace and glared at the map. “ And what are we supposed to do to counter that? Ask Apollo to take the day off??

“Start handing out sunglasses.”

Someone dragged a bucking gray pegasi through the opening to the canvas tent and chaos broke out, Butch yelling orders at a group of Dionysus kids who began feeding the freaked out mare shiraz.

You turned away before you were lumped with the task of dealing with them, and reached for your axe. A sticky note fell off, the yellow paper floating to the ground.

Hi hi so if i win capture the flag by myself then will you go out with me also i cant ask you this in person because jasons teaching me how to use a sword and im about to run out of sticky note and now ive forgotten what i was trying to say

The note ended there, and you frowned, trying to ignore the twitch at your lips when you turned the greasy crinkled paper over.

right yeah this is leo by the way you probably already figured that out cause no one else is smart enough to beat all of camp to go out with you the flying horse distraction was my idea too by the way im a genius you should definitely go out with me okay now im out of pa

“Who’s the person?”

You nearly decapitated Drew in that moment. You lowered your axe and shoved the note in the back of your pocket that you only just remembered wasn’t there, courtesy of the armor you’d donned. “What are you talking about?”

“The love note,” she insisted with a curious smirk, lipgloss shining. “They sounded pretty excited and now you’re making that face oh my god you actually like them back!”

“Do not!” You snapped back, tightening your shoulder guard and hefting your bloodied axe over you shoulder. The pegasi was led out of the tent as you shooed Drew in the same direction. “Now go back to your station, we’re starting in five.”

She squinted at you for a second, then her eyes widened as he jaw dropped. “Leo!”

You blinked, wrinkling your nose. “Okay how did you even-”

“Seeya later!” Drew called over her shoulder, skipping away with Butch to find her section of the woods to patrol, her assigned heart shaped sunglasses slipping down her nose.

You narrowed your eyes at her retreating figure, but then one of Clarisse's sisters was wondering if the no killing rule had changed in the last four minutes and you were promptly distracted.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Why don’t you just run along there and turn Travis into a toddler for me?” You asked a son of Hebe who nodded solemnly and disappeared into the trees. Light dappled the leaves on the ground and once you’d ordered around the rest of the soldiers in training, the bellowing horn sounded.

A tense silence filled the woods, no one daring to make the first move and startle the spies out of their trees and the runners from their starting places. You pushed the cat eyed sunglasses up your nose and adjusted your sweaty grip on the axe, which must have weighed as much as the Hebe boy you’d just sent on his way.

Blue streaked the sky behind the clouds, but the blue you were concerned about fluttered peacefully in the wind from where the flag had been nestled in Zeus’s fist.

From what you’d planned, the Nike twins should be hiding in the two pine trees in font of you that had grown on either side of the track you knew the red team would take, nets between them ready to trap the enemy. Drew was placed behind you with her bow and arrows, ready to take down anyone that made it past Holly and Laurel.

And if the lucky little fucker made it any further, you had your axe ready.

The rest of your team, save the Ares kids bordering the river, who were ready to maim but not kill, were causing a distraction that included a lot of grapevines and a reenactment of the Hamilton Musical [the second half was to be acted out at the campfire later that night]. It was sure to distract the Apollo cabin while Annabeth donned her blue Yankees hat and snuck through.

The only way it could go wrong at this point, is if a certain fluffy haired pointy eared son of Hephestus went through with his sticky note proposition and burned down the entire woods.

Considering the fact he’d challenged you to a duel four times this week, you wouldn’t be surprised. Not that you minded. His concentrating face was sort of cute, especially when he stuck his tongue out a little and that time you’d pinned him to the sawdust covered ground you’d realized he actually had a few little freckles along his nose.

And he really liked strawberries. That you could admire.

Okay, maybe you looked forward to whatever proposition he’d set up at breakfast each day, but it mainly had to do with the presents. And definitely not that grin he’d get when you agreed.

If he won this game of capture the flag, which was impossible for one demigod anyway, and you did go out with him, you’d get to see that smile times one thousand. It sort of made you want him to win.

Then you shook the thought from your helmet cladden head. Your team was going to win this, and you’d stab Leo yourself to do so.

Lightly, though.

He still had that crackly laugh you could place from across the dining pavilion, you couldn’t kill him. It made your brain melt for a moment, which wasn’t something a daughter of Athena needed. But, he was a certified genius. Maybe that would even it out.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Where the fuck is Drew?” You yelled into the forest around you, but only the crickets and startled squawking birds answered. Metal clanged and the crickets were silenced when your Axe thudded against a tree, handle first.

Austin smirked, and his bow knocked into your shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise you could already feel forming.

You ducked another blow and stumbled back, stumbling a tight ring around the sun of Apollo to get back to your weapon, glancing around the clearing as you did so. Holly and Laurel were nowhere to be seen, and there were certainly no nets to help you out in the one on one ambush.

You’d been waiting around for some action when suddenly there was a lot but still not enough, because apparently everyone on the blue team had decided they’d rather fall asleep in their stations than help you. Even without them you could hold up your own, grabbing your axe and swinging it around at Austin when he came back for seconds. The arrow in his hand seemed less scary once his bow was in two splintered pieces at your feet.

He stepped back, face falling, and the daisies crushed underfoot sprung back into their slightly crumpled places when he backed away properly, turning to where the blue flag was still untouched on the top of Zeus’s fist.

You paused, lowering the axe in confusion once he called out to nothing, “Oi! Move it loverboy, I’m running out of time!”

Then you froze, because of course somehow, against all odds, a panting Leo was clambering up the highest point with the red flag in one tightly closed hand and a second later he was holding the blue one above his head victoriously as well, a stupidly wide grin on his cute face.

He let out a yelp as pebbles began to slide around his feet but then you couldn’t see him anymore, pushed to the back of the crowd by a stampede of yelling demigods brandishing weapons.

It took you a second to realize they were cheers and not war cries [the difference was hard to make out most of the time], so you weaved through some Hermes kids who were chatting animatedly and a Demeter girl with a stump where her arm had been. Will rushed along behind you to her side once you’d gotten past both teams of the now over capture the flag game.

“What the fuck is this?” You yelled up at Leo, who sent you a double thumbs up and then began hopping down the pile of boulders, the flags now held with his crooked teeth.

You squinted up at him, watching his green army jacket get caught on an overhanging branch and then when he jumped down finally, you were there to cross your arms and glare at him.

“Sup?” he smirked, holding his hands behind his back and rocking on his feet. “Did you get my note?”

Apparently he guessed your answer through your facial expression and then held up the flags like an offering. You ignored a fatal sounding screech from an Aphrodite boy in the distance as Leo chewed his lip. “So…. I won!”

“And how, exactly?”

Leo glanced to the side, and you followed his gaze to a smirking daughter of Aphrodite, who’s hoop earrings shined with blood that definitely wasn’t hers, judging from Drew’s satisfied expression. He then pulled out another crumpled up sticky note from his jacket, which was stained with something dark. He read out in a stilted tone, “I have to make a flamethrower, a chariot with poison shooting arrows, a two real life hoverboards, about thirty pairs of water, lava, and acid proof headphones, and a few jetpacks.”

“Right,” you muttered, tilting your head at Leo.

He blinked obliviously at you and tucked away his extensive list, probably not able to hear you speak over the yelling crowds that bustled around carrying bandages and broken weapons, already busying themselves with the aftermath of the set up blood-bath.

“It was worth it,” he shrugged, “but I’ll be stuck in bunker nine for the rest of the my life.”

“Maybe you can take a day off.” You unfolded your arms, resigned to the fact all of Camp Halfblood was about to witness this. Then you stepped forwards a little and leant in to whisper in his pointed ear. “...Y’know, for our date.”

Leo blinked.

“Someone get the Leo extinguisher!” A Hebe kid yelled, and there was a general uproar of chaos from everyone but you weren’t really paying attention because Leo had patted down his flaming torso quickly, only that didn’t change the color of his face back to normal.

He narrowed his eyes, but the grin had never faded and you could see his fingers tapping along his thighs a thousand miles an hour. “You serious?”

You nodded.

“DID YA HEAR THAT?” He yelled at the crowd of teenagers, cupping his mouth with a scarred hand, “I GOT A HOT DATE YALL!”

“Don’t make me regret it,” you muttered back, rolling your eyes, but when Leo smiled up at you you knew you’d never regret it, so instead you just smiled back, shoving your hands in your pockets while Piper started screaming from Jason’s shoulders.

Leo clapped his hands eagerly, “great, now you gotta carry me.”

“That’s cringe.”

“I’m being serious,” he said and held his arms up so you could grab him bridal style. You paused for a moment and then resigned yourself to the fact this might be the rest of your life. It wasn’t too bad, you realized, when Leo wrapped his arms around your neck and pointed in the direction of Will triumphantly. “Forward, sexy steed!”

“One, if you ever call me that again, I will literally throw you off a cliff, and two, why do we have to get to WIll?” You asked as you carried him through the crowd in the direction of the stressed out blonde anyway.

“Cause Clarrise stabbed me in exchange for letting me win.”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #leovaldez #leo valdez #leo valdez x you #Leo Valdez x child of Hermes #Leo Valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #but no use of y/n dont worry lol #inktober #autumn #spooky season #halloween #inktober fic #pjo fic

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