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oddmawd · 7 months ago

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The HΩuse on Rumbar Boulevard Chapter 3: "The Promise" (Eldritch-Horror!Brook/Reader)

SUMMARY: The house on Rumbar Boulevard stands empty. None have dared cross its threshold in years. But rumors persist that on dark and lonely nights, faces appear in the windows, and ghostly laughter echoes down the hall. The new Mistress of the house has not heard the rumors. She does not know what lurks beneath the peeling paint and cracked foundation of her dubious inheritance. All she sees is a Victorian mansion in disrepair and investors circling like vultures. But she recognizes an opportunity when she finds one, and she’s certain she can flip the house and sell it with little trouble — mutterings of hauntings and things that go bump in the night bedamned. Alas, the bones of the house are stirring, and the creature within the walls won’t let its long-awaited Mistress leave so easily. [Eldritch Horror!Brook | An OCCULT PIECE Story | Urban Fantasy AU]

TAGS & CONTENT WARNINGS

PAIRINGS: Brook/OC (also can be read as Brook/reader)

RATING: Currently T, but will be E(xplicit) later (MDNI, 18+)

WORD COUNT: 14k for chapter 3

GENRE: Horror-Flavored Supernatural Romance

FANDOM: One Piece

TAGS: Monster Romance, Human/Monster Romance, Lovecraftian Monster(s), Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Eldritch, Haunted Houses, Alternate Universe, Explicit Consent, there will be tentacles but they're consentacles, Consentacles, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Teaching a monster to love, Monster Boyfriend

WARNINGS: None so far

Hosted Exclusively on AO3: Click Here to Read in full!

CHAPTER 3: THE PROMISE - Excerpt

Fighting back a yawn but with eyes undimmed by sleep, Nico Olvia said to the Heir: “You know, when I said you could call me anytime, a screaming phone call at 3 AM wasn’t exactly what I envisioned.”

The Heir stood with Olvia before the front gates of the house on Rumbar Boulevard. She had sprinted straight out of these gates as soon as the thing — the Entity, she recalled from the journal in the basement — screamed loud enough to wake the dead. She had only paused long enough to grab her cell phone on her rushed way out. Reception had returned to the phone the second after she unlocked the gates with shaking hands and stepped onto the sidewalk beyond. Suspicious timing if you asked her, but that had merely been a passing thought as she dialed the number for the only person in town she knew by name. Olvia picked up after a few rings. The Heir couldn’t quite remember what she’d said to Olvia while she stood there on the sidewalk in her long nightgown, to tell the truth. Just something about the rumors being real, and not knowing what to do, and Oh, come quick, there’s a monster under my goddamn bed!

Olvia hadn’t balked at that fantastic declaration. She’d simply put on her coat and driven to 442 Rumbar Boulevard in a beat-up pickup truck, haphazardly parking by the gates where the Heir to the house waited on bare feet. Said Heir babbled a slightly more thorough (though no less panicked) explanation then, and now Olvia stared up at the house through narrowed eyes. She was still in her pajamas, too, though hers constituted a slightly less dowdy ensemble of sweatpants and a t-shirt from Grandline’s own Ohara University. The Heir felt a bit silly in her long nightgown, but that was neither here nor there.

Olvia cleared her throat, hawkish eyes still locked on the house. “So the thing — ”

“The Entity.”

“The Entity. Right.” Olvia’s brow furrowed. “It led you to a secret unmarked basement, you bled on a skull, and then it followed you to your room?”

“And then it screamed,” the Heir emphatically informed her. “It screamed really, really loud.”

“Right. Got it. And then it...?”

“Hid under my bed, I think.” The Heir curled her toes against the sidewalk, rough concrete catching under a nail. “I didn’t stick around to see more.”

“Right.” Olvia considered her in silence. With some hesitation she asked: “So you were asleep right before this happened?”

The Heir met the inquiry with a glare. “I wasn’t dreaming.”

The possibility that her encounter with the Entity had all been the product of some horrible nightmare had occurred to her, yes, but the Heir had pinched herself too many times for that to be the case. Her arms would be black and blue before morning. Although she hadn’t had the courage to look under her bed and confirm what lingered beneath before taking her wild flight out of the house, she knew she wasn’t dreaming. She knew it. And perhaps Olvia saw the determination on her face, because she held up her hands and backed away a pace.

“OK, OK, you weren’t dreaming,” she said, words hasty but sincere. “Had to cover our bases since you’re — ” She looked the Heir over with a frown. “Where in the world did you get that nightgown, anyway?”

It was made of light cotton trimmed in sensible lace, with long sleeves and a hem practically to her ankles. With a scowl she told Olvia: “It’s comfortable.”

“I believe you,” Olvia said at once. “It looks…breezy.”

And with that they changed the subject, much to the Heir’s relief. Olvia looked back up at the house with a grimace. Snowy white hair drifted about her shoulders when the wind whistled past — a sound like distant singing, words just out of auditory reach. The archaeologist shifted where she stood, transferring her car keys from one hand to the other before shoving them into her pocket and out of sight.

“Well,” she said. “What now?”

“I thought — ” The Heir stammered a little. “I thought you’d — ?”

Understanding sparked behind Olvia’s eyes. “Shit. I forgot you’re new to Grandline. And you’re new to stuff like this — ” she gestured at the house “ — too.”

“And you’re not?”

“I live in Grandline,” said Olvia, as if that explained everything. “Weird things happen all the time.”

“But — ” The Heir gaped at her. “But you said you didn’t believe the rumors.”

“No,” said Olvia sharply. “I said I wouldn’t be scared off by the rumors. I never said there wasn’t any truth in them.”

She had only known Olvia a short while and the feeling of cold betrayal building in the Heir’s chest was probably silly under the circumstances. Nevertheless, she said: “You — why didn’t you warn me?”

“Would you have believed me if I tried?”

She opened her mouth to answer, to tell Olvia that yes, of course she would’ve believed her — but she shut her mouth again without saying a word, rendered silent by Olvia’s frank gaze. They both knew the answer was “no.” They both knew there were just some things you had to see for yourself. Suddenly the Heir remembered the stammering tradesmen who refused to work on her house. The ways their tunes had changed as soon as she uttered her address. The way even the offer of money could not tempt their service. They had all been local crews.

She got the feeling Grandline was full of things only locals knew to fear.

“Anyway,” Olvia was saying. “I might be from here, but that doesn’t mean I know what to do in this situation.”

“Fuck.” She ran a hand over her face, skin clammy and cold. “I’m sorry. For calling, I mean. You’re just the only person I know in town, and I panicked, and god, it’s so late, I must look so stupid, I must look crazy — ”

“Hey.”

Olvia put a hand on her arm. The Heir froze, glancing between that hand and Olvia’s pretty bronze face in turns. In the light of the stars and the streetlamp, her blue eyes glowed and her white hair shined, points of ghostly pale amid the soothing shadows of the night.

“I believe you, OK?” said Olvia. “Or I believe you believe you saw something, at least. And there’s really only one thing to do in situations like this.”

“What is it?”

“Research.” She nodded toward the house. “And I think we have to start in there.”

A daunting prospect, going back inside. Luckily she’d managed to babble to Olvia that her lantern had died and Olvia had arrived with multiple flashlights and a gas lantern tucked into the cab of her pickup truck. The Heir did not want to venture back inside — truly, the idea of creeping back into that darkness chilled her blood — but with Olvia beside her, she felt a rush of warm courage. They drove through the gate, bumping over the pockmarked and grass-marred gravel path until they stopped at the foot of the front steps. She looked at the great, dark silhouette of the house with a pit in her stomach, glancing at Olvia for support and comfort —

Olvia, eyes locked on the mansion through the grimy windshield, was grinning. “442 Rumbar, in the flesh.” A dry chuckle escaped. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Was it the Heir’s imagination, or did Olvia look excited?

Suddenly she wasn’t sure she’d called the right person for backup, after all.

But it was too late to find another friend at that late hour. Together they exited the truck and walked through the front doors, huddled together to press into the miasma of utter silence lying just beyond. They crept down the halls with only the flashlights to guide their way, beams of silver light cutting through the dark in thin, inconsistent swathes. She flinched at every moving shadow, eyes roving, but Olvia strode forward with confidence, listening to the Heir whisper directions to the library. At the mention of said library, Olvia’s steps quickened, carrying them faster and faster down the halls and through the huge double doors on the library’s lowest level.

The Heir hung back, hovering in the doorway to watch Olvia venture forth. The stacks of books, climbing so high along the walls you needed fancy library ladders to reach the upper shelves, appeared dull grey and deep black in the moonlight trickling through the skylight overhead. But the dim didn’t deter Olvia in the slightest. She strode to the middle of the huge chamber and spun in place, mouth agape, staring at the books in awe.

“Wow,” she breathed. Then, stronger: “Wow!”

The Heir pointed to the right. “The door to the basement is over there.”

“Right.” Olvia shot another glance at the shelves. “I’ll be back soon, books.”

Olvia didn’t look happy to be denied immediate access to the library, but she nevertheless peeled her eyes from the towering rows and followed the Heir to the study door…only it had shut itself up again, locked tight as it had been before the night took a turn for the weird. No knob on the front, no crack between frame and panel — only the omega symbol above the door staring down at them in silence like some watchful, hollow eye, unblinking even as their flashlights raked across its empty pupil. She grabbed at the edges of the door but the cracks weren’t large enough to admit even a single finger, and she couldn’t pry it open. Olvia stood back and watched her struggle in silence, eyes tracing a pattern of inquisition across the library.

“It was open before,” said the Heir, voice high and reedy in the dark. “It was wide open!”

“I believe you.” But was that sincerity or merely placation on Olvia’s face? “You said it hid under your bed?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s check there, then.”

And thus they trekked up the creaking metal stairs. The Heir’s heart climbed higher in her throat with every step, but Olvia faced the darkness without flinching. Dust motes swirled through the shine of the flashlights, but no ghostly figures appeared even after Olvia practically kicked down the bedroom door and stomped within. Emboldened by Olvia’s bravery, the Heir joined her at the side of the bed, where they knelt beside each other and gripped the edge of the trailing bedsheet. For a moment they just looked at one another. Then Olvia mouthed a countdown. Three, two, one…and they wrenched back the sheet, spearing the darkness beneath the bed with both their gazes and the hard beams of the flashlights.

But nothing greeted the pair besides bare and dusty floorboards.

“It was here,” she heard herself saying — desperately, hoping Olvia did not think her a liar. “It was here, I swear.”

“I believe you.” Olvia stood and brushed off her jeans. “But whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

As uncanny as the creature’s first appearance had felt, its sudden disappearance felt somehow even more impossible. Still, the fact remained that the creature — whatever it was — had apparently vanished back into the walls of the house, or the mysterious shut-up basement, or wherever the hell it had come from in the first place. She felt more than a little silly as she escorted Olvia back to her truck. Olvia stifled a yawn as she climbed into the cab of the battered vehicle.

“Call me if you see anything else.” Olvia pinched the bridge of her sharp nose and sighed. “I’ll come right over.”

“Thanks. I’m…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. About all of this.”

“Don’t be.” Olvia smirked and glanced at the house. “I’m just happy to know there are some books left in that library.”

“Right. The books.” She’d forgotten. “Do you want — ?”

“I do want. But not tonight. It’s way too late and I need to rethink my plan — ” Olvia stopped, looking at the Heir askance. “I mean, I didn’t think there would be so many books, so I need to come up with a way to catalog…”

She yawned. Olvia did, too, contagion encouraged by the late hour, the aftermath of adrenaline. and the wheel of the stars overhead.

“Too tired to do any effective research at the moment, as you can see,” she said once they recovered from the yawning epidemic. “But I’d love to come back during daylight. I’ll call tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” The Heir did not remind her that her cell phone never seemed to work inside the house. “Sounds good.”

She rode with Olvia to the front gates so she could shut them behind the truck. Olvia drove away with the smell of exhaust trailing behind her, scent sharp and rough in the cool night air. Still feeling foolish, the Heir returned to the house, clutching her flashlight (a loaner from Olvia, who said to keep it for the night) like a sword. She did not particularly want to take the long walk from the front door to her bedroom on the uppermost floor…but she did not particularly relish the idea of spending the night on the front porch, either. Shrugging aside the fear festering in her heart, she opened the enormous front doors and slid through the narrow gap between them. Silence pressed tight from all directions. Cloying. Thick. She’d have to keep her eyes forward, not look into the shadows at the edges of the hall. Not pay anything that crept or crawled within them any mind. One foot in front of the other, until she reached the grand staircase and ascended the first few steps —

A thunderous crash of music rent the quiet.

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#brook #brook one piece #one piece brook #one piece #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece x oc #brook/reader #brook/oc #brook x reader #brook x oc #mawd's masterlist #oddmawd fanfic #occult piece

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jacksoneblackburn · 3 months ago

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Hey? Wassup?

You know what would be cool?

Chapter two of the Demigod With Many Names >:]

Chapter 2:

I WATCH A DOG EAT A POMEGRANATE

I don't usually cry (which is a lie). But when I did, I accidentally envelope my entire surroundings in a five foot radius of pure darkness (courtesy of my literal, primordial grandpa, Erebus).

'Jacks... are you okay? You've been crying for a good ten minutes,' My wonderful -but terrible at consoling people- boyfriend from the Demeter cabin, Tyler said softly. 'Lou Ellen, and Connor are starting to get worried...' He said as he poked the edge of the darkness.

I created a small window in the Crying Void, patent pending, so I can look at him. 'Why aren't they hanging out with Will?- Or Nico. Whichever. Take a pick.'

'Funny you say that actually.' He said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

I poke my head through the hole and look around the Demeter cabin. Sure enough, Nico, Lou Ellen, Connor, and Tyler are standing around me. Nico was playing with the shadows -which, of course he was- while Tyler was trying to hide Connor and Lou Ellen's current argument.

'No! I'm not disguising you in the Mist so that way you can trick the Poseidon cabin into thinking a Siren broke in.' Lou Ellen said sternly.

'Come on! It'll be fun! Think about it, Percy's gonna freak out, then he's gonna be all super soaker mode and stuff!' Connor pleaded on the floor, slowly crawling to Lou Ellen's leg and grabbing onto it. 'Ple-e-e-e-ase?'

Nico hits him on the head. 'Enough Connor. Stop messing around. We're here for Jacks, remember?'

'Fine!' Connor sighs, holding the spot where Nico bonked him. 'But this isn't over "Louie." And you didn't need to hit me on the head so hard! For a scrawny, emo boy, you're freakishly strong.'

'Thank you.'

'That wasn't a compliment.'

Nico shrugs.

'Ahem!?' Tyler cleared his throat loudly to get their attention. 'Focusing on the wrong emo!'

'Rude,' I add in. 'But not far off. Nice job, honey.'

'Thank you.'

I sniffled, wiping my eyes and my nose with a tissue I had in my pocket. Why did I have a tissue in my pocket? Not sure. When did I get it? Again, not sure. Was it clean and unused? Surprisingly yes.

'Anyways. What are you three doing here?' I wasn't sure how I said it, but it was probably harsher than I meant it to be. 'I get Tyler being here, but not you guys.'

'Well..." Connor started.

'We heard you got suspended for not being able to deal with a patient that wasn't there,' Nico continued for him. 'I'm not entirely sure why Will would do that though...'

'He's a cool guy and all, but he's been acting strange recently.' Lou Ellen added.

'All the immortals, and some of the Half-Bloods are also acting strange.' Tyler said worriedly. 'Especially Chiron and Mr. D.'

My heart dropped, and skipped a worried beat. The shadows around me faltered, turning into a dark mist and falling to the top of my knee, not coming back up. Nico raised and eyebrow, but I think he decided not to comment on it. 'What do you mean?' I finally managed.

'Well, Chiron has been showing more... Romanic centaur behavior.' Nico replied quickly. As much as the kid (we're technically the same age) freaked me out, he was surprisingly chill. Probably because he mostly didn't care most situations, or because he wasn't sure what to do in most situations. Either way, I'm not inviting him to my funeral if I die.

'Meaning he's becoming a ruthless killing machine and eats meat?' I asked, condescending in tone.

'Shut up.' Nico glared at me, which wasn't very fun. 'But technically yes. He's becoming more erratic, sending untrained kids on extremely dangerous quests. More and more kids are disappearing due to the Harpies-'

'Wait- What?!-'

'Not important,' Nico continued as he started fidgeting with his skull ring, pacing back and forth as the plants around him started dying and took on a more brownish color. 'What's important is what's happening to Mr. D.'

'Well what's happening to Mr. D?' I asked with my hand raised.

'I will tell you how long it will be until you die. Then make it much shorter,' He threatened me calmly. 'Sorry, I didn't mean that... entirely. Just stop interrupting me.'

I put my hand down slowly.

'Anyways,' He continued. 'Mr. D has gone completely off the rails. He's turning kids into animals, mostly dolphins. He's created a camp wide mania surge that's making almost everyone paranoid and on the verge of doing a literal killer mosh pit, all while sending shipments, upon shipments of leopards and releasing them into the forest.'

'Courtesy of the amazing, wonderful Amazon workers,' Connor added, followed to a swift, loud slap to the back of the head by Lou Ellen.

'That's for calling me "Louie", dill hole.' She sneered.

I'm not sure if it was payback for earlier, and she found the perfect time to do ot, or it just registered Connor called her Louie.

'Anyways,' I say while scooting away from Connor and Lou Ellen. 'What should I do about it? There's no way I can help a missing camper, let alone a god and a horse person.'

Nico shifted uncomfortably. 'How about something smaller... Like... Will?' He said in a small voice.

I rolled my eyes, feeling my anger that I subsided for Will slowly rising up as Nico suggested that. 'And why should I?! Will fired me, took away my license, and kicked me out of my own cabin!' My eyes stung. I could feel the tears start to come up again. The shadows at my knees began to stir, becoming spikey waves in a sea of shadows. 'He was my brother! The first person I knew that would understand that I came from a different time, and would need guidance.'

Nico reached out towards me, stepping into the shadows and grabbing my arm. 'Jacks, you know what I-' He winced and pulled away, noticing my eyes were glowing. Their usual two-toned light orange and brown, replaced by a soft, glowing neon green. He got distracted by my eyes that he forgot my skin was literally ice cold to the touch.

You know when you wet your fingers and touch an ice cube you just pulled out of the freezer, and it freezes the liquid on you hand and sticks to your skin? If you haven't, try it, and come back to this chapter. Anyways, that's what it reminded Nico of.

The floor cracked open, and a hand sprung out from the ground. Not even I was expecting that. The shadows sunk into the ground, making the green glow coming from it to dim down. My eyes stopped glowing.

Unfortunately, though, the now golden glowing image of a Lyre above my head, didn't. The zombie kept crawling out of the ground, as the strings to the lyre broke. The lyre broke, the wood turning back into tree. An image of a pomegranate falls from one of the branches, hitting the "ground." A three headed dog eats the pomegranate, sitting down like a guard dog would.

Nico's eyes widen, his whole body faltering. 'You- How-' He takes a few steps back, tripping over the zombie and almost falling into the hole in the floor. Luckily, Tyler managed to make a flower with Lou Ellen making the flower as big and strong as possible using magic, and Connor bending it down so Nico could land safely on it.

'Jacks...' Nico said after complete silence. 'You just got reclaimed by- by-' He stuttered.

'Hades...' I finish his sentence.

A knock is heard on the door, and we all look over. Leo walks in holding two cartons of ice cream and two spoons. 'Hey Jacks, I heard you got fi-' Leo drops the ice cream on the ground as he looks around the cabin in shock, finally noticing what happened. 'Sorry, is this a bad time?'

'Really Leo?' The five of us say in unison. 'Does it look like a bad time?'

Leo looks at the glowing image of Cerberus above my head. 'There's a story here... not sure if I wanna know it, but darn rootin' tootin' I'm staying for it.' He says with a big grin.

And thus ends Chapter 2.

I really hope you guys like it, these are always so fun to make, and I get to deal with my mind gremlins that bug me all the time 'bout this stuff

@kindred-spirit-93

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the-marauders-are-ghosts · 5 months ago

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My (late) solangelo week fic

Summary:

Nico said he didn't want any gifts but of course no one listened. He got a pair of doc martins from percy and annabeth who also brought cookies from sally, Jason, Leo and Piper got him a necklace with the same skull as his ring, hazel and her boyfriend frank got him a nintendo and finally the best present in his opinion came from his boyfriend, it was wrapped in sun patterned wrapping paper with death boy written on the front inside was a box that held a camera, it was plain black and small enough to fit in his jacket pocket but it was amazing.

It doesn't follow any of the prompts because I didn't know when I'd get it posted

@solangeloweek

#solangelo week 2024 #solangelo #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #pjo fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #ao3 fanfic #solangelo week #will solace #nico di angelo

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that-daughter-of-nyx · 7 months ago

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The fire to light up the dark

pairing: yandere!Leo Valdez x female!reader (mentions of being the daughter of Nyx and granddaughter of Pluto(hades), so sorry if you don’t like that I picked the godly parent I just don’t see a lot of people writing about my godly heritage)

This is random headcanons I like and want to share some are fluff and most are just crackpot energy

Your weapon is two hairpins one is imperial gold and one is Stygian iron and they turn into a sword it’s four feet long and it’s half Stygian iron half imperial gold with a black and Paris green handle and it weighs 3.5 lbs and it can change into anything weapon or tool you need

Leo sometimes breaks in to your cabin and or your room to steal your clothes(hoodies and shirts) and your camp T-shirt will go missing from time to time…you’ll find them smelling like fire, ashes, Dr. pepper, cinnamon, chocolate and the forge(so Leo)

(He may have put a tracker on your phone(he made phones for demigods with the Hecate cabin) or your sword/bow&arrows/daggers/ect ect)

And he constantly tries to hug you, and I mean constantly like he’ll break the no sitting at a different table rule constantly just to give you hugs and little kisses and stuff

He absolutely adores that you think of the Hypnos and Nemesis cabins as your nieces and nephews

When you and he cuddle he actually sleeps all night like for the first time since he was eight and was sleeping next to his mom, he feels safe, comfortable, protected and is able to sleep through the night without a vision(a demigod dream) or a panic attack from a nightmare about the fire that killed his mom like he actually had a good night sleep

So when he started dating you officially Will Solace and Frank Zhang became his best friends because Will and Frank are also yanderes and they all give each other information

And how Nico gave his skull ring to Will Blanca gave him two other rings, one was a ghost and one was a zombie head Hazel got the zombie head and you got the ghost ring and so the three of you are called

The Ghost King is Nico

The Skeleton Queen is Hazel

The Zombie Princesses is You

And so you gave Leo your ghost ring and he put that sucker on his camp necklace and he wears it with pride

And if Leo makes you a ring or something he expects that to be on your camp necklace and when you make him anything he will worship it like the gods themselves gave it to him because in his eyes a goddess DID

Requests are open and I’ll write for any daughter of Nyx, granddaughter of Pluto (and there will be under lying great-granddaughter of Anubis and great-great-granddaughter of Loki text)

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twoidiotwriters1 · 8 months ago

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: You get one fluffy chapter after reading that piece of emotional damage -Danny Words: 1,949 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Daylight' -by Taylor Swift

XXXIX: The Loneliness is Coming From Inside the House

Nico manages to take them directly to Ara's cabin, he closes the door so no one knows they're here yet, then closes the little curtain Leo installed on her porthole so the light doesn't worsen the pounding in her head.

The boys work as a team, tucking her in and checking her wounds. Nico convinces her to take off her shirt so he can examine where the arrows hit her, and Jason turns around to give her privacy. She doesn't know if he caught up to Nico's secret, but that isn't her business, so she will keep her mouth shut.

Ara stays still while Nico heals her, there aren't many injuries, just bruises where the arrows struck, but she's perfectly healthy, only heartbroken and drowning in grief, and the only way to heal from that is by letting it happen.

Nico places the first-aid kit under her bed and sighs. "She's fine."

Jason scans her frame, nodding approvingly. "I'll tell the others we're back."

Ara points vaguely at the scepter leaning on her bedroom wall. That thing better work as they think it should, otherwise she sacrificed a big part of herself for nothing. She glares at it, but for the first time, she's got no cynic or sarcastic comments to send Jason off.

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll rest—but take that thing with you."

Jason's blue eyes look relieved as if Ara deciding to take a break is a sign of better times coming. "Yeah, I'll do that. C'mon, Nico..."

"I'll stay."

Ara groans. "I'm not going anywhere, seriously..."

"You can scold her later, man," Jason insists politely. "Leave her alone."

"Take the scepter," she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "I don't want it near me."

"Later."

Ara turns her head towards him scowling. "You're not doing anything right now."

"I want to make sure you're okay," Nico admits with frustration.

Ara's face gets very hot, the boy had never offered to look after her before this moment. "Oh."

Jason's smile grows. "Cool, then. Take care of our General."

When Jason leaves, Ara and Nico stay silent for about five seconds, then Nico pulls her vanity bench closer and sits, eyes fixed on the door while he fidgets with the skull ring on his finger.

"I don't think Eros is coming to finish the job," she jokes. "He and Nemesis will leave me alone after this."

Nico watches her intently. "You saw yourself in Nemesis, didn't you?"

Ara doesn't deny it, her puffy eyes are staring at the ceiling. "I've been cruel to myself, and no doubt I'll be cruel again. My fatal flaw is ambition so I'll be tempted..."

"Tempted to what?"

"To mistreat those who care for me," she sighs. "I hope I can control it before it gets this bad a second time. Eros said the only way is to let love take over."

"You'll be okay," Nico pauses a moment, but in the end, he forces himself to finish his thought. "You're not a weaker version of me, you're built differently. No matter how angry and frustrated you get, you always choose to be good."

Ara's eyes lighten up a bit, but they also get teary once more. "That's just like you too, Ghost King."

Nico makes a face. "Don't start."

The door opens abruptly and Leo storms into the room. Nico stands in alarm and reaches for the scepter, but then he recognizes the boy and relaxes. "About time," he grins. "What took you so long? I thought you and Ara could sense each other from a mile radius."

Leo blinks, confused by Nico's expression, but he doesn't reply to him. He addresses Ara directly. "You okay? Jason told me—"

Ara moves so fast that Leo stumbles and crashes against the doorframe when she tackles him into a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around him in a way that forces him to stand on his tiptoes. Her entire body screams when she does this, and she starts crying again. Leo tightens his grip on her, scared and anxious.

"Please, tell me the stain in her shirt isn't..."

"She'll be okay now," Nico responds, grabbing the scepter and circling the pair to exit the cabin. "But you two should talk, so... I'll leave you alone." He closes the door behind him.

Leo guides her back to the bed and sits with her, leaning against the headboard with one leg hanging off the mattress while he cradles Ara in his arms. His fingers brush through her choppy hair while she calms herself enough to speak.

"Jason said your brother Eros came to fight y'all, not that other guy..."

"It wasn't a fight," she dries her tears. "Not even close. Eros had us in the palm of his hand and..."

She sobs and Leo squeezes her, kissing her hair. "Ara, you have to calm down. Jason already told me everything..."

The girl freezes. "Everything?"

He examines the dark stain on her clothing. "The important bit. Couldn't've been easy, huh? Talking about the curse in front of them, especially in front of Nico..."

Ara shakes her head, cleaning her nose. "Nico was kind. Whatever was wrong between us... I think it'll get better from now on."

She doesn't want to jinx it, but part of the problem is being afraid to utter thoughts believing it taints them. When she was a kid, she enjoyed talking about what she wished for, it was the main reason why people liked her, she wasn't afraid to speak her dreams into reality.

"You were brave." Leo kisses her temple. "I'm proud of you. "

Ara closes her eyes and leans against his shoulder. "I know what's missing with the others, but I didn't understand it until now."

"Whatcha mean?" Leo frowns.

"Since the moment we met, I told you everything you wanted to know. Everything. I said things I hadn't told to anyone, and you fell in love with all of me because of it. That's why you stay by my side even though you know I could hurt you, because you know it's not my intention."

She sits upright to face him better.

"I have to tell them about my prophecy. And your curse."

Leo looks slightly concerned. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't care—they'll give me those pitiful looks terminally ill people get from their loved ones, and I'm definitely not looking forward to that, but if you think it'll help..."

"If it doesn't, at least we'll feel lighter," she replies. "I can bear my grief and my duties, but I can't do it alone."

Leo reaches for her hand and kisses the back of it. "Then we'll do that. When?"

Looking at it from a sober point of view, she knows the crew will get paranoid once they find out, probably try to keep Leo from fighting too much, and that can backfire. They're missing two of their most powerful and clever demigods, they need to be a unified team or the giants will run through them in a heartbeat.

"Let's wait until we get Percy and Annabeth back—because they will come back," she says with certainty. "Love will keep them safe until they find their way back. Once we rescue them everyone will be... hopefully in a good enough mood to give them bad news without crushing their spirits."

Leo nods. "Yeah, despair is not exactly on brand for me."

She intertwines their fingers and stares at them, deep in thought. "There is something I've been wanting to tell you... it doesn't change anything, I just want you to know."

"A'ight," Leo reaches up with his free hand and runs it through her hair. "I'm listening."

"Eros said I treat love like a curse, and I had that problem even before I met you." She presses her forehead on his shoulder again. "I was in love with Michael Yew. Though saying 'with' is a stretch. Michael was fond of me, which is not the same thing."

Her free hand reaches up and absently draws patterns over Leo's chest.

"I never did anything with that love because I was scared of it—might as well have been the reason why he died. I never allowed myself to love him enough to stop him from making rash oaths."

She closes her eyes, feeling extremely worn out after all the crying and talking about feelings.

"Hestia talked to me about him, said he was like me and there was only one way I could learn from him. The way he died... that is my lesson." She waits for Leo to say something, but when that doesn't happen, she moves and locks eyes with him. The boy is smiling a little, and Ara scowls at the sight. "You got nothing to say?"

He scratches the back of his neck. "I figured it out months into dating you. You wouldn't talk about him, but when you did I got jealous. I could tell you had liked him as more than just a friend."

Ara blushes. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I just—"

"It wasn't your fault. And I don't need to know how it happened, or who was it, to know it's not your fault anyone dies in the line of duty." Leo fixes his posture and tries hard to find the right words. "I understand why you fell for him, though your crush on Nico did catch me off-guard—"

Ara moves away again. "My what on whom?"

Leo blushes. "I uh... I was coming one night to see if you'd let me stay over, and I heard Percy talking about it with you. I freaked out and went back to my room, but I was too unsettled to ask—"

"That was all a misunderstanding!" Ara exclaims in embarrassment. "Gods, stupid Percy! He overheard Lily teasing me about my crush on Mike and he thought she was talking about Nico!"

"Oh. Oh, that makes so much sense." Leo pauses a moment, then grins and pecks her lips. "Then I'm alright."

Ara looks at him with amusement and disbelief. "So that's why you've been weird to Nico this whole time?"

"I mean Nico is pretty dang creepy in general, I don't need a reason to be freaked out. Wish I'd known him when he was all cute and hyper like you," he smirks.

Ara heaves a sigh, lowering her gaze. "I wish we both were that way still... it was better."

Leo's expression softens and he leans his forehead against hers. "I wish I could make the present better, but that's not the point of this, right?"

"I adore you..." she speaks gently. "I value you, so I'm sharing all of me. Even the love I had for the boy that came before you."

Leo's eyes are full of mirth. "He got to meet you when you were all cute and easy to impress. I wish I'd had that advantage..."

Ara laughs a bit, it feels wrong to laugh, but also necessary. "If I'd met you then, I don't know if I would've fallen for you, or hated you for being so good at what I wanted."

Leo seems very pleased with her answer. "I know you're lying to make me feel better."

"I swear I'm not," she tilts her head to brush his nose. "Aphrodite was in the right when she chose Paris for Helen, you balance me out... and sometimes that can be irritating."

"Yep, I'm a real bother," he mumbles and cups her face. "I'm just an annoying joke."

"You're perfect." Leo's been called evil, troubled, stupid, scrawny, and all the variations of ugly you can think of—but perfect? It doesn't compute in his mind at all, yet the way Ara holds him close leaves him with no room for doubt. The girl mumbles the rest of her sentence against his lips. "And you shine like daylight..."

The boy's nose and ears start to heat up at her words and he decides to shut her up for good by deepening the kiss. Ara doesn't fight it and instead melts into it, she's decided to build her life around love, and Leo is the blueprint.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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that-girl-glader · 2 years ago

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I'm actually so bored, so here is my doodle predictions of TSATS because I'm magic like that. (STill haven't fricking read the book yet so please, don't don't, AND PUT SPOILER ALERTS PLEASE!!)

Firstly you can see a sun and a star, and as you can see they look alike because they're the same thing, but they are kinda different because symbolism, bro. Like the traits be the same, but people treat and view them differently,idk.

I drew like a skeleton because idk it was very likely, but also i wanted to see if I could yk. Cause I actually suck at drawing skulls, so I was like screw it. But also it could be significant. Who knows.

The butterfly is self explanatory i feel like because butterfly like. Just butterfly. Idk how, when, where, just butterfly.

For the flower I really believe there will be a flower that is important? or who really knows. I'm not a future/predictor person...(just reminds me of rapunzel, which just makes me believe even more that Wills gonna pull a rapunzel, which drains him. Like maybe Nico almost died, who knows.)

I drew the cat like without tiny bob in thought, and I only realized after. Which makes me think I really am so cool, and good at guessing stuff.

The bat is because I love the way i draw them, and I think Nico could be the next Batman,bro. Maybe he has a whole army of bats. Who knows. You who read do so, yeah..

The cake is their to be a cake. I think maybe if they go to the jacksons they have like cake of sorts. Those are cherries on top by the way, but the cake doesn't have to like... be exactly like that.

notice their is a deadish tree with smokey stuff, that is a magical tree, that might be in the underworld most likely.

The crown is because who knows, I think they will be a crown idk. Maybe it symbolises a ruler of sorts. Maybe it doesn't.

The most important one to me is the mango, I'm hoping there is a mango. Hopefully enchanted. It was either a mango or an orange. Idk. But the mango spoke to me. And there has to be a mango, bro.

The lady in the fire is not being burnt by it. Idk wether they are a threat or not. But that's what's there. I think they are important somehow who knows.

The dog is just decoration, but who knows, who knows indeed, and ofcourse we have the one eyed creature thing(I saw that on the tshirts, but Idk much other than a few minor spoilers I'm not gonna mention)

The broken heart is because who knows. I think they will have a fight, like a proper real fight, but don't worry your pretty little noses. They will be solid again. Or who knows maybe someone breaks up(hoping it's caleo even though they aren't really supposer to be in the story)

and last, but not least. There is a ring. I actually thought maybe nico loses or gives or something with his ring or they find one, Most likely Neeks ring. (I got a minor spoiler about something maybe, idk I usually skip those, but it makes me excited when my doodledictions come to fruition.)

I'll leave you with this: what if python, bro. Who knows. And what if they kill cupid, hahahahHAA.

#tsats predictions #tsats #nico di angelo #solangelo #will solace #rapunzel #I'm tagging rapunzel just because #the sun and the star #riordan universe #🖤💛#☀️🌟#anyone else at some point come across the sun is a star looking for this book?

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aemcndtargaryen · 2 years ago

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no bcos i also realised daemon 100% planned the Princess' miscarriage to happen on xmas day/AT THE FEAST in front of the whole court, for maximum humiliation and a show of weakness on the Greens part, he really IS the antichrist and I hate him and I absolutely love how you write him and I need him to get skewered by the Princess' shining new sword, kebab style (preferably asap)

also aemond is gonna go feral when he finds out and its gonna be glorious and i can not wait to see it

(but also even if they find out you know some lowkey nobody is gonna take the fall at best, and daemon is gonna get away with, at least as far as viserys goes...)

“I wish you could join us,” Nico says, almost sulks, snow catching in her hair. She’s riding a gorgeous white mare that the Duke of Hightower purchased for her. He’s in no hurry to gift you a horse. King Viserys—epochs ago, on your wedding day, on the blood-orange July afternoon when you looked into Aegon’s glassy, shadow-ringed eyes and knew exactly what sorts of demons you’d be sharing your life with—once promised you an Andalucian for each child you gave your husband. He hasn’t mentioned it since. It’s slipped his mind, most likely; that’s what happens to the king’s notions that concern the Greens. They stumble around in his skull for a while, find a window, jump from the ledge and free-fall into oblivion.

that line about rotting v and his thoughts concerning the greens? so on brand, but that doesnt make it hurt any less lmao AND THE WRITING? 😘👌

and otto, who doesnt have a single nice word for the princess but hes out there gifting horses to the new granddaughter-in-law hes known for 5 seconds... i see how it is 😒

viserys better come through and gift her the best horse(s) when she finally gets to have a baby(s), tho im not holding my breath when it comes to v and anyone who is not related to rhaenyra

AEMOND CMON GET YOUR LADY LOVE A HORSE, YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE I CAN COUNT ON

(also imagine them going on rides with vhagar and her horse 🥺 - once she finally gets one - tho i wouldnt mind them sharing a horse either VHAGAR IS BIG & STRONG ENOUGH FOR TWO PEOPLE just sayin... 😏)

You smile up at Nico with your feet planted firmly on the ground like fertile roots and a hand resting on your belly. Five months along, over halfway there, farther than you’ve ever been before. The season is winter, but you feel like spring. You feel like blossoms unfurling, like ivy scaling walls of frozen stone. “Next year, with any luck.”

writing? 😘👌

SHE WAS SO HAPPY TOO

PRINCESS👏🏻DESERVES👏🏻SO👏🏻MUCH👏🏻BETTER👏🏻

“Then you’ll get to return the favor and gallantly wave me off as I gallop into the distance, a vision of Boudicca herself.”

“Didn’t that story end with mass murder and suicide?”

“Nico, not everything needs to be said out loud.”

MASS MURDER AND SUICIDE YOU SAY ??!!

brb googling Boudicca

hmmmmm... husband died with no male heirs, had 2 daughters, the romans took his kingdom, humiliated his fam... queen raised a rebellion, did a number on the enemy, eventually lost and took poison/got sick/too shooketh and died

considered NATIONAL HEROINE THO

HMMMM INCHERESTING 👀👀👀

Then she reels her mare around and trots off to join the hunting party. Once not so long ago, you had no true friends here. Now you have at least one. Two, if you count Aemond…although you can’t decide if Aemond is a friend. Sometimes he feels like less, other times much more. He grows close and then is far away again, a tide that’s always a few hours from receding. You watch Nico depart with hardly any heartache. Your relative incapacitation will be finished soon enough, your position vindicated. The clock is ticking.

so happy princess aint completely alone anymore 🥺🤧

IT WILL BE FINISHED TOO SOON POOR BABE, HAD NO IDEA😭🤧

He grows close and then is far away again, a tide that’s always a few hours from receding. 😘👌

Daeron compliments you as he canters by on Tessarion, heavy hooves leaving impact craters in the snow: “Princess, that’s a lovely gown.” Lavender, purple, the color of royalty, a declaration of your own worth. That’s not something you can rely upon others giving you. You’re between worlds at the moment: neither fully Navarran nor English, not an outsider nor a future queen.

daeron is such a babe, nico is SO LUCKY

also loving the princess using her gowns and colours to send a message, tho i cant wait for her to finally feel like she fits in and really is at home and FOR OTHERS TO TREAT HER LIKE THE QUEEN SHE IS AND GIVE HER BASIC RESPECT

Daemon reins up beside you, peering down with glittering dark eyes. When anyone ventures too close to Caraxes—whether horse or human—he snaps at them like a wolf. Surely there is no beast better suited to its master. “I think you’d look better covered in red. Isn’t that the color of your people, Navarre?”

“Prince Daemon,” you purr, one hand still on your belly, your victory in progress. “Enjoy the hunt. I know you get restless when you haven’t murdered anything in a while.”

He should quip back, but he doesn’t. He just grins, his gaze locked on yours; and his grin stretches wider until it sends a bolt down your spine like cold lightning. You have the sudden, dreadful impression that there’s a joke you aren’t in on. “You have no idea.”

HELLOOOOO ???!!!

I DONT EVEN NEED ANY MORE PROOF, THIS EXCHANGE TELLS ME EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW - DAEMON IS A PLAGUE, AND HES BEHIND EVERYTHING GOING WRONG WITH THE BABIES

AND NO, I DONT TAKE CRITICISM

“I know you get restless when you haven’t murdered anything in a while.”

AND THAT SHIT EATING, CREEPY GRIN?

GIRL BYE

as i was reading i figured he was thinking of all the babies past + how he was gonna get rid of this one too

and maybe that was in the back of his mind too, but he was 100% thinking about what was gonna happen at the feast and how she was gonna lose the baby in front of the whole court

IM IN ON THE JOKE AND I DONT LIKE IT

UGHHHHHHHHHH SOMEONE BITCH SLAP THIS MF RN

Caraxes squeals and jerks back his head as Vhagar shoves between you, massive withers and haunches making space where none existed before. Caraxes nips Vhagar’s shoulder, drawing blood; Vhagar snorts in reply, a low rumble like a storm. Caraxes retreats, ears flattened, but Daemon pitches you one last crooked smirk as he leaves, a threat, an oath.

YASSS VHAGAR HUMBLE HIS ASS

“Perhaps we should serve Daemon’s head at dinner,” Aemond says.

“He certainly looks like a pig to me.”

aemond is always full of good ideas lmao

What was Aemond like on my wedding day? You try to remember. All you can conjure is a vision of him staring at the floor as you linked your trembling hands with Aegon’s and the priest spoke, as if the match was so ill-fated he could not bear to witness it. It took you a year to learn that he didn’t disapprove of you after all. Something else weighed on him that day, something else dragged down his eyes like an anchor moors a ship.

writing? 😘👌

ofc he couldnt bear to watch who should have been his future wifey getting married to someone else, least of all to aegon, who seems to get everything aemond covets and not even able to properly appreciate any of it

Aegon passes you both on Sunfyre. “I’ll bring you back something, wife!” he vows, swaying drunkenly in the saddle, his chaotic silver hair shagging in his eyes. Fortunately, Sunfyre seems aware of his rider’s limitations; his steps are lithe and cautious, almost timid. His coat is a river of gold beneath grey skies. When Aegon urges the horse to go faster, Sunfyre ignores him.

dragon, doggo or horse, SUNFYRE IS ALWAYS BEST BOYYYY 💜💜💜

appreciate aegons enthusiasm, his heart is in the right place, and ya know what? he didnt come back empty handed, he brought back possible pneumonia #girlfailure #thatsmyking

You turn back to Aemond and raise an eyebrow. “Make sure he doesn’t break his neck?”

“As always.” And then Aemond is gone too.

hehe poor aemond, aegon sure loves to make his life anything but easy

looking after aegon sure is a full time job

Joanna Montford was replaced by Agnes Stafford, who was replaced by Sibylla Beaufort, who was replaced by Cecily Chaucer.

boy goes through mistresses quicker than i change bedsheets 😂💀

flavour of the month indeed

A servant brings you a cup of apple cider, and you sip it as snowflakes melt into the fur of your coat.

GIRL DRINKS SO MUCH OF THAT SHIT AND EVERY TIME ITS MENTIONED I JUST WANNA SLAP THAT FUCKING POISON OUT OF HER HANDS SO FUCKING BAD (even if its only sometimes poisoned, better safe than sorry hun)

“It’s not personal,” Rhaenyra says. You whirl to see her and Syrax; they have appeared like ghosts, both pale and ethereal, both fearsome without being malevolent. “Prince Daemon’s taunts, I mean. Any of our antagonism. Distrust that swells into hated.” Her hair is long, loose, strands of ivory in the wind. Her eyes—clear water, cool and stoic—flick down to your belly and then back up to your face. She’s a lot like Aemond, you think, seeing the extent of their resemblance for the first time.

“It feels very personal.”

see you say that, but then, it really DOES FEEL SO VERY PERSONAL ON DAEMONS PART 👀

veryyy curious to see if the other green wives will get the same treatment (especially baby wise...) like yeah princess is married to the first son, they are the immediate threat and all, BUT !!

aegon can still succeed without an heir cant he? hes got two full brothers right there that could inherit should something unfortunate befall him (+ helae already has a son right? - wonder that, does daemons hand not reach that far 👀?)

so yeah, aegon, his wife and their would be kids/heirs are the immediate threat, but i feel like his bros and any kids of aemond/daeron would be bad business for the blacks too...

...but then, if every single green wife will be incapable of carrying a pregnancy to term SURELY that would be too glaringly obvious and someone would connect the dots, like one ‘broken’ wife is just bad luck, but 3 is a pattern 👀

(ughhhhh just the thought of aemonds wife (who is not the princess) IS KILLING ME ALREADY, let alone a wife carrying his kid I DONT WANT IT, IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH FOR THAT KINDA FUCKERY PLS 😭😭😭)

also wondering about rhaenyra... DOES SHE KNOW THE SHIT HER HUSBAND GETS UP TO??

ALSO THAT QUICK GLANCE AT HER BELLY?? 👀

hmmm im thinking she probably knows... she may not be enthusiastic about it, but shes letting daemon run rampant... after all, its nothing personal, right?👀

its kill or be killed ig...

But one face is missing from the crowd. “Where’s Aemond?��

“Oh,” Nico recalls as she yanks off her gloves by the fingers. “He has something for you.”

“For me?”

love how shes always looking for aemond in a crowd

AND OFC HE BROUGHT HER SOMETHING BACK FROM THE HUNT

(ya know, gotta feel a bit bad for any potential future wife of aemonds tho, imagine your husband always thinking of his borthers wife, felling bears for her, writing poetry for and about her, giving her the most thoughtful and exquisite gifts... HELENE TRUST ME GIRL YOU DONT WANT HIM, HES ALREADY TAKEN)

“I think you’ll find it…” Nico grins mischievously. “Perfectly bearable.”

LMAO NICO WITH THE BAD PUNS I REALLY LIKE HER

Aemond is the only other person there…and he’s elbow-deep in a colossal black-furred monster. There is a pile of entrails on the snow beside him glistening like rubies, garnets, rosalines, wine. Servants ferry away bowls full of offal: a lung here, a rope of intestines there.

this reminded me of that scene in got, you know the one, tywin skinning that deer, just casually neck deep in those animals

“What is that?”

Aemond stands and waves at it cavalierly, drops of blood flinging from his leather gloves. “A bear.”

love how casual hes about it, like its such a normal thing to be dissecting a BEAR THAT YOU CAUGHT (for your bors wife no less)

also, a moment of silence for all the bears in the hotd-verse

just when they thought they would be safe from criston&aemond and moonstones witchiness NO they got NICIY!aemond on the hunt for a new rug for the princess

“What am I supposed to do with a bear?”

“It’ll make a fine rug for your bedchamber. You can place it by the fireplace and lie on it on cold nights. Read your books, do your embroidery.”

...make love in front of the fireplace, on your fine new bear rug with the man that got you said rug 😏

no but fr, if they dont fuck on the rug in front of the fireplace THEN WHATS THE POIIIIINT

“It was bold of you to assume you’d be able to find me a Christmas present on Christmas day. Not much room for error.”

“This isn’t your Christmas present.”

bold of you to assume he hasnt been thinking about and preparing the best, most thoughtful xmas present for you well in advance hun

“Then what’s the occasion?”

“Congratulations, I suppose.” He glances at your belly, rounded out like ripening fruit with his brother’s child. A stain of blood like fever rushes into his cheeks. He blushes very rarely, and only ever around you. No one else seems to know that he’s capable of it. “For being over halfway there. It must bring you great relief.”

“Yes, I suppose the Duke of Hightower won’t get to ship me back to Navarre now. In a crate, like an animal that couldn’t be tamed.”

“What a waste that would be.”

for someone who never really blushes, he sure does blush a lot in front of the princess, love what a blushing mess she always makes him and most of the time she isnt even trying (yet 😏)

You shrug, stepping closer, though mindful not to squash any bear organs beneath your shoes. “I wouldn’t mind being sent home if there was anything for me to go back to.”

Aemond stares at you, alarmed. “You haven’t grown attached to anything here? In nearly a year and a half?”

“Well…there are a few things,” you say, smiling at him. Aemond smiles back. His long silvery hair is secured in a single thick braid, his gaze curious. You try not to imagine what is under his eyepatch; that strikes you as something he wouldn’t want you to think about.

“Vhagar,” Aemond teases.

STOP THE WAY HE GOT SO ALARMED THAT SHE WANTS TO GO BACK AND THAT THERES NOTHING (NO ONE) SHE WOULD MIND LEAVING BEHIND

AND THE CASUAL FLIRTIIIIIIING

IM LIVING FOR IT

AND AEMOND WITH A BRAID YESSSS PLSSSS

You laugh. “Yes, mostly Vhagar.” You look up at the grey sky, thick with clouds like steel. “But I miss my family. I miss the heat, the mountains, castles and cathedrals the color of golden sand. I miss riding horses and sparring with my brothers. I miss being understood, being loved. In Navarre I was alive. But in England…ever since I arrived here…it’s like I’m locked up waiting for someone to let me out. But the prison is my own flesh.”

Aemond studies you. “It’s not for much longer,” he says at last, soft and solemn. “And I would change it if I could.”

I WOULD CHANGE IT IF I COULD

GIRL THERE IS AT LEAST ONE MAN WHO VERY MUCH UNDERSTANDS AND LOVES YOU AND WOULD LOVE NOTHING MORE THAN TO LET YOU OUT OF THAT PRISON YOU FEEL TRAPPED IN (IF ONLY HE COULD)

...And if my husband discarded me for being incapable of producing children, no one else would ever want me. I’d never have my own household. I’d be doomed to be a spinster, forever dependent upon the charity of my parents or my siblings. Either that or in a nunnery. Although, truthfully, Navarre has some beautiful nunneries.”

“You’d make a terrible nun.”

“Because I’m too vicious or too lustful?”

“Vicious, without a doubt. Lustful…I don’t feel qualified to speak on.”

not qualified... NOT YET 😏

“Depends on who’s in front of me, I suppose.”

You contemplate each other across the gutted bear carcass, snowflakes filling up the space between you instead of words. Again, Aemond’s cheeks flood red. When he wrings his hands together, you notice that they’re shaking. His hair is sopping; beads of melted snow pool along the edge of his jaw, slither down his throat. He could catch his death out here.

THEIR FLIRTING IS EVERYTHING

two star-crossed lovers contemplating each other with a gutted bear carcass between them is something that can be so personal 🥺

You go to him, pull off a glove, and press your bare palm against his forehead and then his cheek: the scarred one, the ruined one. “You’re burning up, Aemond,” you say, worried. “Are you alright—?”

“Fine.” He shies away from your touch. But then, without thinking, he moves to tuck an escaped lock of hair back underneath your hat. As his thumb grazes your face, you feel the warm stripe of bear blood that he inadvertently marks you with. “Goddamn, I’m so sorry—”

“No, that’s perfect.” You smile up at him. “You know I secretly favor red.”

three paragraphs and yet SO MUCH IS HAPPENING AHHHHHHH

touching his cheek HIS SCARRED CHEEK ??!!!!

TUCKING HER HAIR BACK MARKING HER WITH THE BEARS BLOOD

YOU KNOW I SECRETLY FAVOUR RED !!!!!!!!!!!!!!4!!!!!!!!!!!4!!!!!!

COHERENT THOUGHTS LEFT THE CHAT BYE

no cos you got me out here looking up bear symbolisms

i mean ?? i could write an essay lmao but imma restrain myself and just leave this here:

You’re weaving ribbons the color of evergreens into Nico’s hair when he comes into your bedchamber, carrying a long thin box made of pink ivory wood.

“Oh, marvelous!” Nico trills, clapping her hands. “What’s inside?”

“Poems, I hope,” you say.

“I hate to disappoint you,” Aemond replies placidly.

haha girl is relentless, lets be real aemond stood no chance

“Well?” Nico prompts eagerly. “Open it!”

You look at her, apologetic. So does Aemond.

“Oh,” she realizes, then sighs theatrically. “Alright. I understand. I’ll deport myself now. Ciao.”

LMAO NO BUT SAME NICO I TOO WOULD WANNA KNOW WHATS IN THAT BOX, YOU ARE SO REAL FOR THIS

Only when she’s closed the door behind her does Aemond open the box. The lining inside is crimson velvet. It cradles a sword. You gasp and lift the weapon out of the box by its hilt, then pull off the scabbard. It is lightweight, silvery, perfect. You can see your own reflection in the polished steel. There are shallow engravings down the length of the blade: mountain ranges, twisted oak trees, bridges and cathedrals, the flag of Navarre. You can only see them when you tilt the sword to catch the rage-orange glow from the fireplace.

“I had it custom made for you,” Aemond says, abruptly nervous. “So it wouldn’t be too heavy or too long. The hilt should fit your grasp precisely. I took one of your gloves for measurements.”

“A thief.” You marvel at the sword, twirling it a few times. The blade cuts through the air, soundless, seamless. “Aemond, this is…this is so far beyond what I deserve. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

get you a man who gifts you custom made weapons

aemond targaryen, thief of gloves and wives 😏👀

“It’s part pleasure, part necessity. You might actually need to protect yourself one day.”

cant wait till she skewers daemon with it lmao

“It’s a shame I’ll only be able to bully you with it under the surreptitious cover of darkness.”

“Just until Aegon is king. He wouldn’t care, I don’t think. He wouldn’t forbid you from training.” He gestures to the blade. “And the engravings are—”

“All things from home.” You beam at him. “From Navarre.”

“That’s what the common people call you, you know. The Princess from Navarre.”

the care he took with that sword 🥺

and he was so nervous too 🥺

You take the pink ivory wood box from Aemond’s hands and place it in the chest at the foot of your bed, your preferred spot for squirreling away valuables. And then you lift out Aemond’s present: a vast tapestry that he helps you unfold to reveal the design of.

that treasure trove is about to be so filled with gifts and poems from aemond 😏👀

“It’s incredible!” he exclaims. “It must have taken you ages!”

“Well, all I’m allowed to do currently is needlework, so I’ve done a lot of needlework. I made one for Aegon too, although I’m not sure what his hobbies are besides drinking and fucking Cecily Chaucer. So his tapestry is mostly landscapes.” You point to various scenes on Aemond’s. “There’s King Arthur and Guinevere…and Sir Lancelot, arriving to ruin them. There’s Beowulf battling Grendel’s mother. There’s Robin Hood…there’s the Rollright Stones and Stonehenge…and in the middle is Saint George slaying a dragon. I made the dragon black, with little white whiskers if you look very closely. And I’ve named him Daemon.”

“They’re from the stories I told you,” Aemond says quietly, examining the tapestry. “On that afternoon back in July. When we took Vhagar out together for the first time.”

“It must have been memorable.” You smile. “And then the border is ivy and roses, mostly green, of course…except for one little red rose I added down here in the bottom corner. And that’s—”

“That’s you,” Aemond says. “Red like Navarre.”

OBSESSED with the way aegon is basically just getting some basic shit off of the clearance rack at target or some shit, while she took SO MUCH care and put SO MANY DETAILS into aemonds gift

(tbf like homegirl said, its hard to make a personalised gift to someone you dont know much about)

“Yes.” Your voice is suddenly wistful, a little sad. “You’ve made me like the sound of that word again.”

“What? Navarre?”

You nod. “Hushed, gentle…” Reverent? Awed? Protected? Cherished? “Like a prayer. Like a poem.”

“Oh, darling,” Alicent says when you sit down beside her at the high table. There are sprigs of holly in her hair, but her dark eyes are glazed and melancholy. They often are. Sir Criston Cole—a knight whose family are vassals of the Duke of Hightower—is her shadow, peering watchfully around the Great Hall. “Be sure to eat plenty of boar…and bread…very good for the baby. But no fish! And not too many vegetables. Here, let me get you some of your apple cider…” Alicent waves to a servant, and they promptly fetch you a full cup.

alicent...hun...here eat lots of meat NO VEGGIES AND HERE LETS GET YOU SOME POISON APPLE CIDER

nah she ik she means well, but girl😂💀

Surely she’d inflict more damage than either of Rhaenyra’s docile, dark-haired sons, like skittish lapdogs always looking around for someone to tell them where it’s alright to sit.

you always drag those strong boys so elegantly, yet savagely at the same time and IM LIVING FOR IT 😂💀

Far from the table, in the midst of dancing nobles, Daemon and Rhaenyra are enmeshed in whispers and caresses: he tilts up her chin, she grasps the small of his back. You feel a yearning, a hollowness beneath where your ribs circle your heart and lungs like a halo. Without thinking, you glance to Aemond. He’s been looking at you too; he pretends he wasn’t and begins sawing through a slab of boar meat with a serrated knife.

THE WAY SHE AUTOMATICALLY SEARCHED OUT AEMOND AFTER WATCHING THE DAEMYRA PDA AND YEARNING FOR THAT SORTA INTIMACY WITH SOMEONE

AND THE WAY AEMOND IS ALREADY LOOKING AT HER

ALSO LMAO AEMOND PRETENDING HE WASNT, BOY AINT SLICK

“Sweetheart, will you dance with me?” Queen Alicent asks Nico, who immediately leaps up from her chair.

“Of course, Your Majesty! It would be my pleasure. It’s a shame that the king cannot join us. It must be difficult having a husband so much older than you are. Nearly your father’s age!”

Everyone at the table stops what they’re doing and gapes at her.

SCREAMIIIIIIIIIIIIING

NICO IS SUCH A SAVAGE I LOVE HER YOU TELL THAT ROTTING PIECE OF SHIT WHAT YOU REALLY THINK

ALSO THE REACTIONS? RECORD SCRATCH, TIME FREEZE FUCKING PRICELESS

As Nico and Queen Alicent descend to join the dance, you remain where you are, where you always are: on the outskirts, inside the glass bowl. But not for much longer, you think gratefully, running your palm over the swell of your belly.

i really like nico, but its def very bittersweet to watch how much freedom she gets and how differently people treat her, the same people that hardly treat princess with basic human decency and treat her as worthless till she can provide a kid

You eat as much as you can, but you don’t have much of an appetite. Your hips and ankles ache, your body forever adjusting to a never-before-known burden; there is torsion like a sailor’s knot in your lower spine. When the discomfort refuses to abate, you excuse yourself from the table and make slow, meandering laps around the fringes of the Great Hall, draining cup after cup of apple cider as servants bring them to you. The Duke of Hightower casts you a stern warning of a frown before he resumes wrangling Aegon. Aemond, still at the high table talking to Daeron, follows you with one intent blue eye.

ughhh i KNEW miscarriage was pending AND TO SEE HER DRAIN CUP AFTER CUP OF THE VERY THING THAT PUT HER IN THAT POSITION AND NOT BEING ABLE TO DO ANYTHING WAS SO FRUSTRATIIIIING

ALSO THE WAY AEMOND FOLLOWS HER AROUND WITH HIS EYE I-

“But of course, it wouldn’t actually be Aegon ruling if the Greens won. It would be Otto…and Alicent…and Aemond.”

Daemon puts great emphasis on this last name. You turn to him, startled.

“Oh, forgive me, have I said something that gets under your skin? Or…rather…into it?”

deamon SEES TOO MUCH with his strange deep set eyes and i DO NOT LIKE IT, NOT AT ALL !!!!!!!!!!

(but also, like, if daemond noticed... surely he cant be the only one 👀)

“Someone with parents who have ample soldiers and equipment with which to mutilate you, surely.”

“Helene of Austria.”

“Helene?” The breath evaporates from your lungs, vanishes like brief winter daylight. “The daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor?” It’s an immensely powerful match. It’s a match so ambitious it has rarely even been suggested. You summon triumph to your voice, an arrogant glint to your eyes. “This is very bad news for you.”

“And for you too, I think.”

He knows, you think, terror-stricken, aware you aren’t doing enough to hide it. That I desire my husband’s brother. That I want Aemond. That maybe I even love him. You try to fling some flippant retort at Daemon; you cannot find one, it’s like scratching your fingertips along the bottom of an empty box.

helene of austria...

nah shes probably gonna be likeable/hard to hate JUST TO MAKE MY LIFE HARDER LMAO

but im sorry helene ITS NOT PERSONAL , BUT I DISLIKE YOU BY PRINCIPLE, IT CANT BE HELPED

also helene sounds way too much like helaena... i know targs have sTrAnGe customs and all, but i dont think thats gonna work too much in her favour, imagine aemond being reminded of not only the fact that shes not the princess, but also of his sis every time he looks at his possibly future wife...

Victorious, he swigs his wine and begins to saunter away, panting Scottish deerhounds on his heels. And then you call after him: “It didn’t get you far, did it?”

Daemon halts mid-step and slowly—very slowly—turns back to you. “What?”

YASSSSSSS QUEEN OBLITERATE HIS ASS

LOVE TO FINALLY SEE PRINCESS GETTING THE UPPER HAND AND THE LAST WORD, HE THOUGHT HE WON AND THE WAY HE FROZE AND SLOWLYYY TURNED BACK WITH A SOFT WHAT?? QUEEN SHIT

You’ve never seen him truly angry before, you realize now; you’ve never seen him without the undeniable upper hand. His grip rests on the holt of his sword. “I should—”

“Go on,” you dare him in a fierce whisper, your fingers closing around his wrist. “Slay Aegon’s wife and child in front of all the court. It’s the kindest thing you could do for the Greens. Make yourself more enemies, win us more friends. Everyone suspects that you are a beast already. Prove them right.”

as much as im living for princess destroying daemon im also FUCKIN AFRAID OF THE RETALIATION AND NO, I DONT BELIEVE LOSING THIS KID WILL BE IT... also if it really wasnt personal in the first place, then its interactions like this that have definitely made it personal for daemon

BUT YEAH IM LIVING FOR EVERY SINGLE DAEMON/PRINCESS SPARRING MATCH

Daemon rips his hand out of yours. “Happy Christmas, Navarre,” he hisses. “If fate is just, it will be your last.” And then he storms away from you, Rhaenyra meeting him at the other end of the hall and speaking with him there—conspiring? inquiring? scolding?—in urgent whispers.

...sooo was he hoping she would die along with her baby tonight 👀👀👀

“Fine.” Helene, you think, rubbing the aching curve of your back with one hand, sipping apple cider with the other. They’re both trembling. Beautiful, wealthy, coveted Helene.

EVERY.SINGLE.SIP.SHES.TAKING.AND.IM.READING.IT.LIKE

DROP THE DRINK GIIIIIIIIRL

But you can’t hear her, because the pain in your spine is now reaching like poison through veins to spread across your belly, to tighten, to clamp down, to gnash with steel teeth like needles, like knives. Your cup tumbles out of your gasp, spilling apple cider across the floor. You yelp in pure shock at how unexpectedly the pain comes. And then you begin to understand what it means. “No,” you plead in a whisper. You stagger backwards until you hit the wall. “No, no, no…”

KNOWING ITS COMING DOESNT MAKE IT HURT ANY LESS

“What?” Nico asks frantically. People are beginning to notice; heads spin in your direction. Tears are springing from your eyes. Blood is snaking down your legs, slick and hot on the velveteen inside of your thighs. Soon they’ll all be able to see it: your agony, your ruin. The Greens, the Blacks. The Duke of Hightower, Prince Daemon.

daemons plan all along, im sure

Nico doesn’t understand. You don’t know how to tell her. I’ve killed another child. I’ve failed again. You can feel Aegon crawling back into your bed. You can see letters from your mother—so proud at last, so full of praise—shredding themselves into dust. And then it flashes like cannon fire in your mind, not just the loss of an heir but the loss of a life: a name that will never be given, a voice that will never be heard, steps that will never leave imprints in sand or soil or snow.

I have to get out of here. How am I going to—?

An arm circles around your waist, strong, shielding, taking as much of your weight as it can. “Walk with me,” Aemond says. And then he half-carries you through the nearest door and down a passageway, Nico struggling to keep up, chatter exploding at the feast you left behind.

AEMOND FOR THE RESCUEEEE

As soon as you cross the threshold into your bedchamber, as soon as you are out of sight of ill-intentioned observers, you collapse to the floor. Your palms and knees bruise against wood; a wail tears from your throat. “Not again,” you sob. “Aemond, I can’t do this again, I can’t—”

Aemond is kneeling on the floor beside you. He’s helping you pull back the hem of your gown. You see it on his face before you see it on your own skin: there’s blood, a lot of blood, too much for it to be anything but lethal to the child. It’s all over his hands and his clothes; it’s all over the floorboards.

this..was very much not how i hoped aemond would get under those skirts for the first time 😭😭😭🤧🤧🤧

“I can’t!” you cry out, weeping helplessly. Then he stops trying to lift you and instead sinks down to join you on the floor. You clutch wildly at him—at his forearms and his shoulders and his long silvery hair—and he doesn’t flinch away. He draws you into him, his hands staining you with blood everywhere they land. You don’t care; you don’t want him to stop. You bury yourself in the warmth of his chest, his arms around you like the border of the moon, like a ring.

“Shh,” he soothes through your hair. “Shh, shh. I’m here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Please don’t leave me. Please stay.”

“I’ll stay,” Aemond says, his voice hoarse. “Of course I’ll stay.”

THIS HURTS SO MUCH but you know.. at least shes finally not going through it all alone 😭🤧

A physician is telling Aemond that the child was a boy, perfect in every way except the one that matters most. He doesn’t breathe and never will. Too early, too small, beautiful and doomed.

“Don’t tell her that,” Aemond is saying. “Don’t tell her anything unless she asks.”

RIP BABY BOY 😭😭😭🤧🤧🤧

Now it’s later—two minutes, two hours, it doesn’t matter—and he’s dragging someone into your bedchamber. They’re fighting him, they’re trying to cling to the doorframe so he can’t force them inside.

“Get in there,” Aemond growls.

Aegon replies: “I don’t know what to say to her, what the hell do I say—?”

NOT AEMOND HAVING TO DRAG HIS ASS TO HER CHAMBERS AND STAND OVER HIM SO HE CAN ACT LIKE A DECENT HUSBAND FOR 5 SECONDS

Now your husband is gone, and Aemond is holding a cool cloth to your forehead. He speaks in little more than a whisper. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Just send me back to Navarre,” you say weakly. “I can’t do this. Talk to the Duke. He’ll get the marriage annulled. I know he will. He can find another wife for Aegon, another alliance. He’ll be glad to be rid of me.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

“I’m ruined. I’m worthless. Just send me home.”

“You are home,” Aemond insists.

aemond taking care of her, asking about her thoughts, making me feel all soft inside, but ALSO??!!

YOU 👏🏻 ARE 👏🏻 HOME 👏🏻

SCREAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

You watch the firelight as it flickers over him, smooth skin, brutal scar. “What happens next?”

“You’ll try again.”

“There’s no point, Aemond.”

“Look at me,” he commands, cradling your face with his hands. “You’ll try again. And again, if you have to. But you will have children. I know you will.”

the way this is not the first time hes telling her that shes gonna have children, he knows she will... if i speak 👀👀👀

His voice is breaking. His eye is glistening, tortured. This is how the father should be. This is how Aegon should be. “Aemond, why are you so hurt by this?”

“Because you are suffering,” he says. “And because they’re pieces of you.”

BCOS YOU ARE SUFFERING

AND BCOS THEY ARE PIECES OF YOU

“No one here really knows me. No one loves me.”

Aemond is standing beside your bed. “Nico loves you.”

You gaze listlessly up at him and say nothing.

“Aegon loves you, I believe,” Aemond continues, but he won’t meet your eyes. “In his own way.”

Still, you look at him. Still, Aemond doesn’t look back.

Say it, you think, desperate, aching, tears biting in your eyes. Say that you love me too. Even if it’s just as a sister, an ally, a friend. Please, Aemond, just fucking say it.

Ivy. You read his words and all the anguish that went into them—smudges from his own fingerprints, wayward drips of black ink—like falling down the rungs of a ladder.

Scream into me, I’ll be the jar for your fury; I’m starving

for anything that tastes like you. I’ve been counting the lines

on your knuckles, the boards of the floor, wondering if you’ve

figured out that I’d wear fractures and bruises like amethysts

if it means you’d touch me. For seventeen months you’ve been

the ivy on my walls, vines like the needle-width legs of a spider

carving out my past, every last notch and shadow—splitting ribs,

scraping marrow—until there’s no part of me left that can remember

a time other than this, your voice and your wit and the scraps of you

I’ve stitched into me. Ask me what I burn for and I’ll whisper like

the dawn: you growing over my skin until I’m covered, tendrils

twisting down to the bone, everything I was before

ash and myth beneath your hands.

Now I’m Covered In You [Chapter 3: Blood Moon]

Series summary: Aemond is a prince of England. You are married to his brother. The Wars of the Roses are about to begin, and you have failed to fulfill your one crucial responsibility: to give the Greens a line of legitimate heirs. Will you survive the demands of your family back in Navarre, the schemes of the Duke of Hightower, the scandals of your dissolute husband, the growing animosity of Daemon Targaryen…and your own realization of a forbidden love?

Series title is a lyric from: Ivy by Taylor Swift.

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), dubious consent, miscarriage, pregnancy, childbirth, violence, warfare, murder, alcoholism, sexism, infidelity, illness, death, only vaguely historically accurate, lots of horses!

Word count: 6.2k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @borikenlove @myspotofcraziness @ipostwhatifeel @teenagecriminalmastermind @quartzs-posts @tclegane @poohxlove @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @chainsawsangel @itsabby15 @serrhaewin @padfooteyes @arcielee @travelingmypassion @what-is-originality @burningcoffeetimetravel @blackdreamspeaks @anditsmywholeheart @aemcndtargaryen @jvpit3rs @sarcastic-halfling-princess @flowerpotmage @ladylannisterxo @thelittleswanao3 @elsolario @tinykryptonitewerewolf @girlwith-thepearlearring @minttea07 @trifoliumviridi @deltamoon666 @mariahossain

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Keep reading

#4 chapters in but your girl finally had the good sense to check the lyrics to ivy by ts and i- FUCKING SCREAMIIIIIIING #aemond targaryen x reader #NICIY #series #fav #read #NICIY3 #*3 CHAPTERS #can you tell I'm tiiiiired lmao😅😂

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