#for her to eventually kill him and get her revenge

[mixelation]

oh here's some toxicity (reborn au au). it's torito u_u

In another world, the assurance that Itachi would never leave her behind would be enough for Tori. She would find it comforting. She would move on. 

In this world, she really didn’t see why violent revenge couldn’t be her solution. 

“If you’re so mad about it,” Obito drawled at her, “just kill him yourself.”

Obito had thrown himself lazily over the armchair in the corner of her room, right on top of a pair of pants and a sweater she’d worn once and wanted to wear again before she washed them. The chair didn’t match anything else in the room, but it was comfortable. Obito had put it there himself, rescued from an Uchiha elder’s house after they’d died. 

(Of natural causes, he’d assured her.)

He was the primary person who ever sat in it, besides Tori’s laundry. He did it with the lazy decadence of a king in his throne. 

Tori, cross-legged on her bed, pouted back at him. The point wasn’t really that someone killed that guy. It was the intense loyalty the act would mean for her. Had Obito and Minato not both slaughtered absurd numbers of people in an act of love? She wanted that. She wanted someone who liked her like that. 

Would it be bad to break up with her fake-boyfriend if he wouldn’t real-murder for her…?

She had no idea how to explain all this to Obito without sounding completely unhinged. Instead she said, “I’d kill someone for Itachi.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Obito countered immediately. 

“I killed Danzo for him,” Tori said. 

“No,” Obito said, rolling his ankle in the air. He twirled a finger at her. “You convinced Danzo to do something stupid that got him killed because you get off on leading people to their doom.”

Tori pouted some more. 

“I’m glad sensei backed you up,” Obito said eventually, carefully not looking directly at her. His legs were over one arm of the chair, and he rolled an ankle in a loose circle. “You’re okay, right? Besides your unquenchable thirst for vengeance?” 

A sly smile cracked over Tori’s lips. He had shown up the second she was finally in her own home. 

“Aaaw,” she cooed. “Were you worried about me?”

Obito rolled his eyes and finally looked at her. “I just think if you get any more traumatized, you might actually figure out how to destroy the world. It’s the natural escalation of things.”

“You would know,” Tori replied. She unfolded her legs and scooted forward to sit on the edge of the bed closest to him. “Hey, Itachi spent the night the first night.”

Obito frowned at her. “What, you need a babysitter?”

“You could sit outside on the balcony like a gargoyle,” Tori replied. “Bark at passers by. You know.”

“Oooh,” Obito replied, dipping his head back as he leaned into the joke. “Oh, yeah, I could guard the whole apartment. My poor partner was traumatized, after all. I’ll keep anyone from coming in and bothering you. I’ll set up traps and chase your neighbors off. Maybe put up a blockade in the road.”

“Deidara will love this,” Tori said. 

“Deidara is one of the people I’m chasing away,” Obito replied smartly. 

They joked. They talked about silly, unimportant things. Tori watched Obito intently as they chatted. She liked seeing him like this, she thought. Obito was fun when he was relaxed and just fucking around. 

He looked good too, she decided. She missed the mask, but Obito definitely had a nice face. He had the pretty Uchiha cheekbones and a strong jaw, and the messy dark hair worked on him. Plus, he was tall and broad-shouldered and well-muscled and… hmm. 

Hmm. 

Obito started absentmindedly doing little kicks with his feet like a school girl while he groused about how much of the block he could get Deidara to blow up, just by being annoying. 

Tori decided to change her strategy. 

xXx

“I decided I want to break up,” Tori told Itachi. 

“Oh,” Itachi said, frowning down at her. “Why? I’m amenable to making changes.”

Tori shook her head. 

“I don’t mind helping you, or hanging out with you on dates,” she said. “But I realized this arrangement means I can’t pursue my own romantic interests.”

“Ah,” Itachi said. “I didn’t realize you had those.”

Neither did I, Tori thought. 

She nodded and waited to see if Itachi would say more. Maybe he would offer to murder or beat up the person she was interested in. That might make her stay. 

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Itachi said after a beat. “Thank you for helping me. Would you mind if I said I was too heartbroken to date for a while?”

“Um,” Tori replied. “Maybe we should say we decided we’d be better as friends so we don’t mess that up, and you can say you want time to think about what you want out of a dating partner.” 

Itachi nodded thoughtfully and continued to not offer to kill for her. 

Oh well. She tried. 

xXx

When Obito jimmied open her window, Tori looked up from her desk like she’d been expecting him. Which, she probably was. Obito loved gossip. 

He flopped directly from the window sill into his chair and steepled his fingers. 

“So,” he said. He leered at her, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Did you break Itachi’s heart? Did he break yours? Tell me everything.”

Tori rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back from her desk. Instead of the usual sweatpants she preferred when just sitting around her room, she was wearing one of her little sundresses. She brushed her hair over her shoulder as she eyed him. 

“I decided I might want to pursue my own interests,” she said bluntly. 

Obito raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Found some other sucker to sic on your enemies? Teenaged romances are so dramatic nowadays.”

Tori stood.

“I think that’s part of the problem,” she said. “I’m not really a teenager, am I?”

She ran her hands through the signs for a henge, and then a twenty year old Tori was standing in front of him. It was a better aging up than most teens could manage– Tori, after all, had once been physically an adult. She knew the subtleties of her own face and how her body would change with age. 

“Interesting strategy,” Obito said, unsure where this was going. Was she planning to use a henge to seduce someone older? Was Itachi about to lose to some two-bit chump who liked women in short skirts just because they’d agree to murder some other two-bit chump for Tori? That would be hilarious. 

Tori took a step towards him, and then another. She got close enough that the hem of her skirt brushed against his knee, and Obito suddenly realized that Tori’s skirt was quite short, wasn’t it?

“I decided I wanted to pursue more… adult interests,” Tori said, and then suddenly she was in his lap. 

“Wait,” Obito said, voice cracking. “Tori, what are you doing?”

Her hand went over his chin, her thumb and fingers squeezing his cheeks. Obito found this did alarming things to his insides. 

“Have I told you how much prettier your face is than it should be?” Tori said. Her thumb moved up and down his right cheek. “How about you let me mess it up again, and I’ll help you put your eye in Kakashi’s head?”

“What?” Obito full-on squeaked. 

He could overpower her and push her off. He didn’t. He felt frozen, transfixed by her eyes, dark and heavy as she looked at him. 

His heart pounded away in his chest. This was ridiculous, though. This was just Tori. She was probably angling to trick him into letting her store lab supplies in kamui or something. 

Then why the henge? He thought. Tori wasn’t above flirting to get what she wanted, but it was rarely her first choice strategy. He had no idea why it would be her strategy with him. 

The henge is the problem, he decided, hands sweaty. Sixteen year old Tori wasn’t hot. She just wasn’t; she was a teenager. He didn’t… he didn’t remember ever thinking adult Tori was all that hot either, but she’d never crawled into his lap. Maybe it was just the nostalgia this was calling up for him. Or maybe any pretty woman could get this reaction out of him. 

Pretty? No, fuck– well. Either way. He could just get rid of the henge. 

“No, stop that,” Tori said when he activated his sharingan. Her hand immediately went over his eyes. This did even more alarming things to his insides. 

“Oh, because the sharingan is so easily stopped,” Obito heard himself drawl back at her. 

His hands were gripping the arms of his chair instead of stopping her. This was bad. Many abilities of the sharingan could not be stopped simply by covering it, but covering it sure did stop him from seeing unsexy, henge-free Tori. 

He felt her shift, leaning forward. Her hair tickled his cheek and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. When she spoke, he felt her breath on his lips. 

“Then stop me, if you want to,” she said. 

Obito gripped the chair harder. Tori shifted again, her hand staying over his eyes. She pressed her lips against his. 

I am going to stop this, Obito thought, and then instead kissed her back. 

Obito had only ever kissed Rin before, which had been weird and also terrible. This was also weird and terrible, but in a way where he didn’t want it to stop. Tori was familiar. She knew about the absolute darkest parts of him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t murder him if given the chance. But she did know him, from his favorite bad jokes to his stint as a super villain. 

She broke the kiss first. 

“Are you going to be a good boy now?” she asked. 

It was embarrassing that he found her wording hot. 

“For you? Always,” he replied. 

She removed her hand from his eyes. He deactivated the sharingan, studying her face. He set his hands and her hips and then trailed them up her waist, and he watched as she bit her bottom lip in response. He liked that. 

There was no way she was doing this if she didn’t want something. Unfortunately, her method had worked in that he did now very much want to give it to her. But what would Tori want…?

“So you want that guy killed?” Obito asked. 

Tori’s eyes lit up. It was… extremely cute. Fuck.

#reborn au au: it's gotten sillier #my writing

[blizzardstarx]

oh heres aura lore + Angel and Taqqiq rp lore + Raptor and Jack rp prequel lore @castiels-destiny

Aura was born as Storm (?) in the Mountain Pack, and he had a best friend named Lightning. Long story short, his friend betrayed him and framed him of a murder, and Aura kills him, but then gets killed by another wolf in his pack.

They become a spirit wandering around the spirit world, seeking revenge on Lightning, and meets a group of powerful spirits that take him as their apprentice, and he gets more and more powerful, and leaves once his apprenticeship is done, tracking down Lightning and fighting and killing him.

They fight Angel in the spirit world, and they fight for some reason? It was dumb, but Angel beats him and gets another chance at life, as Aura and Angel were like the top two most powerful spirits, eventually starting at the house where Taqqiq met Angel

However, Aura has to face the Trials of Death (lmao it was kinda based on the Hercules myth) and through one of his trials, they help Talon escape his eventual doom in the lab, of which Harpy had a vision of. Aura gets to return to his pack in the mortal realm, but time has passed and he doesn’t know anyone, leaving to help other wolves, and defeat his rival, Angel, whenever they would meet. (they meet again (aura talon and harpy were together and met them) in the Angel and Taqqiq rp first part, but this is wayyy later)

Aura adopts a pup named Blizzard! And he also hangs out with Talon and Harpy sometimes, im pretty sure they live together

They find Taqqiq (when she was a young fox pup) I think? but she runs from them cause she has trauma with wolves, as a pack had killed her parents and was on her tail, and she escapes to Angel’s house, which she didn’t know he was there

LOTS of stuff happened in the Angel and Taqqiq rp and 90% of it was on my old account sadly and in the server i met my friend in, which the channel got deleted (other than auras backstory)

pretty sure my friends oc Angel’s lore has changed a lot but in the recent Raptor and Jack rp there were the Holy Three, Jack, Angel, and Ghale (all my friend’s ocs) that were basically demigods, but Angel disappeared because he was fighting Aura

damn this timeline confusing asf

okay so Creature School rp (few years later) -> Raptor and Jack rp (few years later) -> Angel & Taqqiq + DWW Part Ones -> DWW Part 2 -> Angel & Taqqiq Part 2

angel mentions to taqqiq once about the DWW after he returned from giving Quint redemption and Wildcat resurrecting him (angel had left taqqiq for a while)

oh also i forgot to say why Halfmask was with Raptor and Quint, he wanted a new job other than being a spy lmao but he was still technically spying for the Light Tribe as the job had suspicious activity

also heres my power list lol from most powerful to least

uh. move Lux to above or alongside Halfmask, it would be quite embarrassing if the leader of the Light Tribe was weaker 😭😭

oh btw axel from creature school featured in the angel and taqqiq rp

there was a crimson cult or some shit in the raptor and jack rp

angel bursts theough the ceiling to execute jack LMFAOOOO because of the holy three code but raptor stops him

#blizz’s nonsense #Aura!!! #what do i tag this 😭😭😭 #Wildcat!!! #Halfmask!!!

[intomybubble]

So basically, the manga Killing My Sensei Softly is sorta like Assassination Classroom with the plot twist being Funouhan

#desiree talks #desiree reads #basically girl’s parents are killed and the killer teaches her how to kill #for her to eventually kill him and get her revenge #the plot twist is a guy who manipulates others to give in to their desire to kill #but he can get away with it since he’s not directly involved in the incidents

[morninkim]

Rise of the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers - Count Dregon and his Generals

A prince from a peaceful planet. Twin nobles from a desert world. All three exiled from their homes, all three bent on revenge on those that wronged them. Meet Count Dregon, Nefaria and Scorpina!

Background and story stuff under the cut!

Dregon, formerly Prince Rex of Edenoi, believes in Edenoi's old ways of warfare and conquest. He was banished from the planet years ago for instigating an uprising against his peaceful father, King Lexian, that left his face scarred. Now clad in a golden mask and armor, he has conquered Edenoi after decades away and now sets his sights on Earth to follow his nephew Dex, the newest Masked Rider and sole survivor of the royal family. Dregon's ultimate goal is to claim the Masked Rider powers for himself, his birthright.

Nefaria and Scorpina were formerly members of one of the desert planet Lamari's noble houses. The two were mischievous and cunning, committing petty theft and assault often to test the limits of what they could get away with. That is until Scorpina stole three golden bands from a wealthy crime boss, the enchantment on them cursing her left arm with a disfigurement that would be hard to cover up. Instead of covering for them this time, their family heads cast them out to salvage what little reputation they could.

Years later, the two encountered Dregon in a shady saloon, telling him of their story - with some embellishments to guarantee his pity and net them some credits for the week. Dregon did take pity, but instead of simply giving them a few credits and sending them on their way, he allowed them to stay on his ship. The only condition being they must lend their skills to his growing army of Insectivores.

The twins accepted, with Dregon's army growing in number and power over time, eventually strong enough to invade Lamari. And invade they did, conquering the planet with little resistance. Dregon allowed Nefaria and Scorpina the opportunity to personally execute the families that wronged them, save for the crime boss. The one who had owned Scorpina's cursed bands had already fled far, far away, deep into space prior to the invasion.

The twins declared themselves the Queens of Lamari, appointing Dregon the title of Count. The trio then continued their conquest across the galaxy, crushing all who would defy them.

#rotmmpr #mmpr #power rangers #masked rider #count dregon #nefaria #scorpina #got all the way through plotting out the rise seasons and then realised ''wait. wheres scorpina.'' #SO creative solution: bring her in as part of dregon's entourage and have her carry over to zedd's antagonistship #essentially dex and the rangers beat dregon while kim and trini kill nefaria (they've been fighting monsters up to this point - not people) #dex takes dregon into custody to stand trial bc that's how they do things on edenoi - while scorpina flees and swears revenge for her siste #and joins up with zedd when rito captures her and brings her in to the big man when he asks for him to find warriors to destroy the rangers #eventually scorpina's curse mutates her into her monster form and the rangers gotta fight her w the megazord and stuff #idk if there would be much morality stuff surrounding killing villains who aren't constructed monsters - but i think it could be neat #i just dont wanna go too deep and get into ''the rangers are essentially child soldiers'' kinda stuff bc like. they're superheroes. #this is a cartoon superhero universe. not power/rangers #there would be like. an episode early season 2 after the rangers meet zordon where he kind of goes ''i cant in good conscience ask you kids #to risk their lives for this'' but ends up letting them choose for themselves to tie into his free will theming #with his hangups mostly being that his original rangers were trained warriors and these guys are barely trained #but they prove themselves and he's able to resolve himself to train them and prepare them for eventually facing zedd

[cassioppenny]

doodles of these losers i guess

#pokemon legends genesect #ocs #hilbert #hilda #i'll make full posts on these guys eventually probably #but basically james is a faller who can only remember a woman and a meowth but nothing about them #he's also the basically warden of an unovan pikachu evo #col is also a basically warden in the same area #the other basically wardens hate his guts no one likes him #he just shows up says the most fucking insane shit imaginable and dips #he doesn't even do his job half the time #finally saturine (from the word saturation haha get it guys) is basically in change of all the bounty hunters in neobassa #she's also gris's boss in the convenience store #the convenience store is actually a front for her bounty hunting business #after begging her to let them become a bounty hunter hil gets the codename genecect from her and she's basically their boss as well #ress is also hil's boss but just for the pokedex stuff #saturine became a bounty hunter to get revenge on the plasma member who killed her leopard #basically saturine is the komado and ress is the cyllene

[roobylavender]

it’s really quite concerning to me how many people are black and white about bruce’s no killing rule (esp in recent years) bc i don’t think there’s a full cognizance yet of how easily that insistence upon all killing being the same and equally deplorable can facilitate the white supremacist rhetoric that believes killing oppressors is equivalent to killing the oppressed, anti-racism is equivalent to racism, etc. it’s why it’s always odd to me how mike w. barr is such a frowned upon batman writer for depicting a bruce who will not necessarily go out of his way to kill but will not save certain villains either bc he understands the egregious of their crimes and inflicted harm upon humanity. it’s a “gray area” that’s necessary to explore esp when taking into account the harm inflicted upon marginalized communities at large, and even then barr wasn’t free from falling prey to the rhetoric that all intentional violence is equivalent regardless of which race or class of people it was perpetuated by. obv i agree with most people that in context of under the red hood bruce is right to not use his vigilantism as an excuse to play god and decide who lives or dies, and i always make the point that bruce originally was intent to kill the joker only to be stopped from doing so by other people. but i wonder now if the conclusions to under the red hood and jason’s depiction thereafter inadvertently allowed for the facilitation of that white supremacist rhetoric i mentioned earlier bc jason being written by a white writer didn’t allow for a proper contention with the topic of marginalized communities and their relationship with violent resistance. the complexity of the no kill rule and whether it enables oppressors (even in cases where bruce is more lenient and willing to allow villains to die despite not pulling the trigger himself) is something that needs to be addressed by nonwhite writers specifically, and it’s no wonder that the potential for really potent social commentary with it is all but absent in the modern day considering main batman titles have never been written by anyone other than white men, not to mention the genre is alarmingly christian dominated now despite its jewish anti-fascist origins 

#this is an incoherent mess sorry. i read dc annual two and i have a lot of thoughts #short summary of the issue: a story about bruce's brief time being mentored under a detective in huntsville #they were both on a case where a group of men in their fiftiesish kept being lynched #and bruce eventually discovers that the mastermind is a biracial black man who is killing these men in retaliation for their activities #as klan members. bc one of them happened to father a child (him) with his black mother and she 'blackmailed' that klan member #so in retaliation he and his friends raided her town and slaughtered everyone including her #so now as revenge her son decided to get back at these klan members #and in the end it's like. bruce moralizing to the guy about how killing is wrong blah blah blah and vengeance is bad or whatever #like he does mention once that maybe the guy's 'victims' deserved it but #he's unequivocally written as frowning upon it and making the guy feel bad for avenging his mother bc she was literally a klan victim #and idk it just got me thinking like. even in the best case scenarios where bruce is lenient about who he's okay with seeing die #at what point does he become an enabler bc he's just waiting for some of the bad people to die #bc he's in that place of privilege as a white man who doesn't have to think about taking action into his own hands #marginalized communities can't just wait for their oppressors to die. and it's alarming to make bruce lecture a black man about that esp #oh btw the best part about all of this is this issue was written by mark waid lol. fucking racist weirdo #personal essays

[perpetualnovelboyfriend]

.

#the one stupid thing about actually trying to get better is that I know the revenge fantasy goes away #and that's a sign of healing #and she had every right to want to be the one to kill him #probably still wishes for it years and years after #but eventually it will go away #and that will be okay #and it wont make her any less #and I think its okay to want your fictional surrogate to heal too

[dutybcrne]

Okay, decision made:

He almost primarily uses his Abyssal abilities, and near exclusively in the way a Cryo Abyss Mage/Cryo Herald would, and had relied upon them alone, up until he was given an Anemo Delusion once he'd become of age.

#v; glacialis pavonis (fatui!kaeya) #hc; kaeya #//Shields and teleporting like a Mage; the rest of his combat style mostly Cryo Herald based #//Or even smth overall v peacock-like I think would suit him well; maybe a fight style reminiscent of She.n of K.FP2 too. LOVE that idea #//Was given a Delusion after his first successful solo mission; after pleading for one so he could be stronger to help the Tsaritsa's goal #//He proved himself quite worthy of it; though not so much to be able to have a seat at the Harbinger table jdfbgfg #//He tends to give off an almost monstrous vibe whenever he's angered; Abyssal-infused cryo and Anemo swirling about him #//I like to think he might eventually get his Cryo Vision proper at some point #//Maybe due to anger over what happened to Signora; manifesting as he'd grown numb in stunned horror; his perfect facade shattering #//Swearing a cruel vengeance upon the Traveler should he ever meet them (Slow burn enemies to lovers jhbfgfjdg) #//Would hate to use it though. Appreciates the Tsaritsa's grace upon him. However; using it would HURT with his typical abilities #//That; and he'd be reminded of his hatred for the Traveler and his grief over Signora #//Damn that's like a Shig.araki scenario a bit; wait; holy shit. Could work like that; actually #//But yeah; Abyssal ice abilities is his main powerset #//Sidetracking now with ✨ Bonus Hcs ✨ #//Might have a bit of an aesthetic like Signora with his eyepatch; likes to remove it before a deathmatch/killing someone #//Says he likes them to 'properly look him in the eyes'; make the kill feel more personal/intimate #//Deffo like to make his kills v up close & personal; jamming an icicle into their heart; or freezing them mid-embrace before pulling away #//So they're left in a stance like they're always reaching for him. Playing up a lover's act to the last moment to keep their expression #//Now that I think of it; him getting a Harbinger promotion would make more sense as him taking Signora's place. But wanting a diff name #//So she can keep her own legacy/part in them; rather than taking it for himself like Arle did #//His outfit...I do like smth remiscient of Sailwind Shadow for him. Crossed with like. Cassim from Aladdin somewhat; maybe. Idk #//Or or maybe Gort.ash's fit from Bg.3; save colored more like Sailwind; and slimmer pants to go with it? #https://64.media.tumblr.com/a91418ea9ac0be44f03e8d8494d6fbfd/f9bb8cfabf66c0a5-d2/s640x960/098025fb2112e76394eff11f69ed59ea818d52e3.pnj #//That one more like I think. Lol; rip mobile users tho mdfjbkdfg #//Do like that one. But idevenk lololol. Do still like the idea of him having an asymmetrical cape #//Or peacock reminiscent tails; for further Sh.en resemblance! For THEATRICS!!! And deffo LOTS of Khaenri'ahn star motifs #//One of his main goals as part of the Fatui is revenge for Khaenri'ah; the part of him stolen by Celestia; that he longs so desperately fo #//Boss fight wise; I like the idea of him having a form that's an unholy amalgam of a Cryo Herald; Foul Legacy; and Aven's boss form

[ganondoodle]

Sonia redesign + Zelda (ancient)

she is the one to seal ganondorf in an intentionally cruel way to take revenge for him killing rauru

she also had a daughter from a previous marriage that she named Zelda after an ancient legend from long forgotten times; while she technically had both time and light powers, she could only take ahold of one (struggeling to grasp a certain power you are pressured to awaken reference ;) ) which is time, it was not the one she was supposed to manifest as her status was always associated with light, in her younger years she was often looked down upon but despite that later proved to be a capable leader

shortly after her first marriage was ended rauru and the rest of the remaining sonau (engl zonai) came from the underground to warn the folks living on the surface from a great evil that was told about in ancient texts they had found while mining desperately for the stones they had grown reliant on for survival

this warning later evolves into the plan to seal ganondorf away before he could even become a threat, through all those discussion and planning sonia and rauru grew closer and eventually married; the plan was to be executed in secret to give ganondorf no time to even consider to reveal what demon they believed he really was, but the secret got out and ganondorf enacted a counterattack in the form of stealing one of the enigma stones in order to put pressure on the hyrulian kingdom, but he gets betrayed by the gerudo that will be their sage in the last confrontation, however in the time that the gerudo sage takes to warn sonia and mobilize to save rauru ganondorf has already confronted him and though he did not plan to kill him he does so, more on accident really, as rauru did not listen to a single word he said but instead acted erratic like a helpless man trapped in a cage with a hungry bear, essentially starting a fight of life and death

when sonia arrives at the scene it is already to late; thanks to the enigma stone ganondorf can escape her grief-striken rage but sonia is out for revenge and sees him killing rauru as proof of the warnings of old, she wages war and at the end seals ganondorf in a cruel cage between life and death, even at the cost of her own life

her daughter, having witnessed it all, grows up bitter and determined to make hyrule a kingdom that will never fall again

(totk rewritten project)

#ganondoodles #zelda #art #ganondoodles rewrites totk #sonia #i also thought about (ancient) zelda being bitter as she is #imposing the rule that the remaining gerudo may not live with their husbands within the city #both as a punishment and to keep them from rising up against her kingdom #but i wasnt confident enough in that #so im writing it in the tags instead #its not relevant to the story but i think those gerudo rules are kinda weird and wanted to give a reason to it #in one way or another #anyway #lost motivation halfway through drawing this bc i again set rules upon myself as to how i am allowed to draw and it sucked the fun out of i #ikd if i should have put all that lore on this too #but it felt without context without it

[idksmtms]

The Only Way... (District Mentor!Aemond Targaryen x Tribute!reader)

(first Aemond pic was found on tumblr and edited by @kyloremus)

AN: Huge shoutout to @valeskafics for inspiring my HoTD x Hunger Games stories. Without her, I would never even have thought to connect the two. Highly HIGHLY recommend her writing! - Also, yes, I did pick a random HoTD name for the male tribute, sue me - 

Summary: There were only two past winners from your district, and one of them didn’t even bother with his mentor duties anymore. But this year, for one last time, Aemond decides to attempt to mentor one of the tributes, not expecting how it would change his life. 

Word count: 6.5k

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, slight age gap (I made the reader a couple years younger than him for story purposes), vague p in v s*x, oral f receiving, mentions of blood, discussions of death, discussions of trauma, discussions of disfigurement, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Aemond Targaryen was reaped for the Hunger Games in his first year of eligibility. At 12 years old he had been shipped into the arena, and he had won. Though he had lost an eye in the process, he deemed it a worthy sacrifice for getting out alive. He had been responsible for half the cannons that sounded in the arena, had gotten his revenge for the eye taken from him, and had emerged the victor. He strongly believed the world was against him at every turn, (how else does one explain getting reaped and losing an eye?) but he knew that he was strong enough to fight back against fate. 

The first couple of years after his victory, he had attempted to mentor tributes alongside his own mentor, Rhaenys Velaryon. But each one had met their own gruesome end in the arena and eventually he had given up on his duties altogether, much preferring to stay in his home at the victor’s village with his family. 

It’s not that he wasn’t a good mentor, he truly believed he taught them a decent amount in the short time he had with them, and that allowed them to live longer than they would have without him, but they all lacked his ruthlessness. He had a certain cold-hearted quality that allowed him to kill without batting an eye in the arena, and he could happily admit to it. Every single victor had either gone in with that quality already bred in their veins or they had built it in the arena. He wasn’t sure which side he fell on, but he knew he possessed it. After two or three years of watching kids he had gotten to know, most older than him, die at the hands of others who had been just like him, he had gotten tired and decided to step away. He knew Rhaenys could handle it, she had been doing it much longer than him anyway. 

But this year, something felt different. Maybe it was the long speech his mother had given him about doing his duty, regardless of his own feelings. Maybe it was the thought that it was the last year of eligibility for his brother Daeron and he wanted to be there to ensure that if he was reaped he would at least have a mentor he knew. Whatever it was, he decided he would attempt mentoring one last time and do his utmost to make his tribute a victor. 

A part of him was worried to start showing his face in public again. Though he was used to his eyepatch and he didn’t shy away from venturing out of the house if need be, this would put him directly in the limelight once more after many years. Everyone in Panem knew he wore an eyepatch, everyone in Panem had seen the initial wound he had been dealt, but he had kept away from the scene for so long that he felt self-conscious about his appearance. People would stare, people would be horrified, and- and he would just have to deal with it anyway. 

On reaping day he put on his best suit, a beautiful two-piece made of fabrics of black and dark green and ventured into the square with his mother on his right arm and his sister on his left. He didn’t say a word to either as they entered the space and he left them to go stand near the back of the stage. Old memories of his own reaping day were flooding back in. The nervous energy that had thrummed through him, the sudden stillness of his body when they had called his name, his mother screaming and sobbing, pleading for it to be anybody else. Aemond closed his eyes and swallowed, ignoring the sudden pain that throbbed where his eye should be. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked across to where Rhaenys stood on the other side of the stage. 

She was staring out at the gathering crowd with a blank face. Her hair was neatly braided at the top then flowed down her back in a white similar to his own. They were relatives, somehow, he could never quite remember the relation. He could see the signs of age on her face now, the wrinkles around her mouth had multiplied since she had last been here with him. Her dress was a deep blue, matching her eyes, and covered her arms until her wrists. He knew she bore scars on those arms from her own fight in the arena, but he felt a bitter pang of jealousy at how easily she was able to hide them. He would never have that luxury. 

Aemond waited as the bustling died down and everyone was gathered in the square. He could see the lines of peacekeepers all over, their guns shining in the watery sunlight. He could see his brother standing among the men, a shock of white hair in a sea of brunettes and blondes. He wanted to smile at Daeron, to try and reassure him somehow that everything would be alright, but that was a lie and he would never be able to promise him that. Instead he looked away and began searching for his mother’s and sister’s faces as the anthem played and the formalities ensued. They were harder to find, but eventually he spotted his mother standing next to a girl in an emerald green dress. It was you. 

Aemond was shocked for a moment to see that colour in the crowd. Everyone else was dressed in varying shades of grey, with the odd yellow popping out from somewhere in the crowd. Even his mother was more unique than most by wearing a completely black outfit, but you stood out like a flare. The dress was made of some satiny material and shined in the light. It was a relatively modest dress, with a collared neckline and short sleeves, the hem falling below the knee, but it was so… green. 

Aemond stared at you, at your pretty hair and apprehensive eyes, posture straight but so tense he was sure your muscles must hurt. This must have been your last year of eligibility as well, he thought, you looked to be about Daeron’s age. Your name was populating that bowl, just as Daeron’s was, and he could understand the dread. You were so close to freedom, but if fate decided to be against you today, there was nothing you could do but face it. 

“Alright! It’s now time to pick one young man and woman for the honour of representing this district in the next annual hunger games! Our courageous young man will be…” the brightly dressed capitol man reached his hand into the bowl and began mixing it around. Aemond silently prayed to the seven that he would accept anything, even his name being pulled again, as long as it wasn’t Daeron. He didn’t want to see the pain on his mother’s face if her youngest child was reaped. He didn’t think he could stand idly by if they picked Daeron. “Jasper Wylde! Come on up!” There was a moment of commotion as people looked around to try and find the unfortunate boy and eventually he stepped warily out onto the path made for the tributes. The capitol attendant clapped happily but no one joined in, watching with morose faces as he walked up to the stage and stood beside the bowl full of male names. 

First Aemond breathed a sigh of relief. He truly did feel like smiling this time because Daeron was free. His family was finally free. They could live in their house in the victor’s village on his salary and die peacefully, a luxury. Then a wave of solemnity washed over him once more and he bowed his head slightly. He knew what it felt like to be reaped, he knew with what hatred that boy now stared at the bowl full of names, wondering why it was him and not the thousands of other names piled in there. No one should celebrate at this moment, a child was still being sent to his death. 

“And now, last but not least, the ladies…” the representative hopped across the stage and shoved his hand into the other bowl. He swirled it around a few more times than he did for the boys, then picked a piece of paper right from the bottom. He slowly peeled it open and you could hear the way the paper stuck together slightly in the silence. “Y/n L/n!” Murmurs again filled the crowd but Aemond knew exactly who it was. You were the only one that didn’t move. People began turning and looking but you stood still. His mother gently rested a hand on your shoulder, whispering something in your ear. You turned to look at Alicent then tipped your head down in a swift nod. Then, back straight and head held high, you stepped through the crowd and onto the path. 

You were a sight to behold. A girl in green striding down the path. A bright spot of paint on a white background. Aemond hadn’t realised his breath was held in his chest. Somewhere in the distance he could hear weeping, but you didn’t turn back. You stared at the stage and kept walking until you stood beside the capitol representative. It was only when you had gotten near that Aemond realised he could see your lip wobbling, that your hands shook like trees in a storm and tears made silent, shiny, tracks down your cheeks. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, here are our district’s tributes! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour…” 

In the time the tributes were given to say their goodbyes to their families, Aemond took the opportunity to make his own farewells. He had already said goodbye to his father and Aegon who had stayed behind at the house during the reaping ceremony. His father was too ill to leave the house and it was Aegon’s turn to stay behind in case peacekeepers came asking for the health declaration. Though Aemond knew this wouldn’t happen as they were all here, and it gave Aegon a good excuse to laze around the house. 

Helaena, Daeron, and his mother had been sad to see him go, though they took comfort in the knowledge that if no one else, at least he would return. Helaena shed a tear as she hugged him, making him promise to eat well and stay strong. Daeron’s goodbye was quicker, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want Aemond to see him upset or because he wanted to go celebrate his newfound freedom. He hugged Aemond quickly then dragged Helaena off to home, chattering to her about something or other. 

Aemond watched his siblings walk away then turned to his mother who watched him with sombre eyes. She was silent for a moment, then reached out and gently folded his hands between hers. She looked down at them then back up at him with a sniff and he wondered if she was about to start crying. 

“Take care of her, Aemond,” she finally said, voice quiet but firm. “Until the end, you must take care of her.” Alicent looked him in the eyes until he nodded before squeezing his hands lightly. She pulled him into a hug and gently rubbed his back. “She needs you, Aemond, and if anyone can help her, it will be you. Leave that boy to Rhaenys, hm? She can handle him, and he will do what he will regardless. But Y/n has potential to win. People may not see it, but I believe, and only you can get her there.” Alicent let him go and stepped back, blowing a kiss to her son and beginning to walk away. 

“Wait, mother-” 

“Time to go,” the capitol representative came up beside him and clasped his shoulder but Aemond was quick to shove him off. He couldn’t threaten a capitol citizen, but gosh was he close. 

Aemond still had so many questions for his mother but he was being herded toward the train and she had disappeared among the buildings. He let out a sigh of dejection and allowed himself to be brought onto the train, sitting down in the lavish room and pressing his head into his hands. The eyepatch was digging into his skin and he just wanted to rip it off and itch at his scars. But he couldn’t, because he didn’t want to look at what was underneath, and he didn’t want anyone else to walk in while his face was completely bare. So he pulled the leather away just slightly and scratched at the edges then let it snap back into place. He stared at the floor as he tried to sort out the pieces in his head and come up with a plan. He always had to have a plan. That’s how he survived his first games, and that’s how he would survive his last. 

The doors to the compartment opened and Rhaenys walked in, her dress swishing around her ankles. He stood to greet her and she smiled, a small dejected thing that was as pathetic as he felt. She walked over to the bar and poured herself a glass of sweet alcohol. He remembered the taste from his first train ride, sickly sweet to the point of pain then fiery as it slipped down your throat. One taste had been enough for his whole life. 

“I see you’ve returned to your duties,” Rhaenys said, voice full of mirth as she sipped from her glass. Aemond nodded, watching as she sat down on a plush velvet chair. He followed suit, sitting opposite her across an ornate glass coffee table. 

“Yes, one last time,” Aemond replied simply, turning away from her to stare out the window as the train began to move. “I have a request, concerning the tributes.” 

“Oh?” Rhaenys raised an eyebrow, lips pulling up into a smirk as she brought the glass to her lips to drain the rest of her drink. “Do tell.” 

“I will solely mentor Y/n, and you can take charge of the boy,” Aemond said, lacing his fingers together in his lap. 

“Why?” Rhaenys furrowed her brows and put the glass down on the coffee table. 

“It will be easier on everyone, focus all your energy on one tribute and do what you can to get them to win.,” he shrugged, as if the answer had been there all along. 

“Yes I know that, but why do you want to mentor her?” Rhaenys asked, and he went quiet, staring at her as he tried to think of his answer. All his mind conjured was the image of you walking to the stage, the green dress and the tear tracks. 

“I’m sure you see the potential in the boy. He has muscle, he has experience from the mines which means he already has the brute strength that can be honed with skill, but I see potential in her. I’d like to see what I can do with it.” He stared directly into Rhaenys’ eyes and sat up straight. 

Aemond believed what he said. If his mother saw potential in you, then so did he. He would do what he could to get you ready for the games, then he would do whatever he could to help you survive in the arena. The world was always against him, but if there was one thing he knew, it was how to survive. Now, he would make sure you did too. 

“Alright, have it your way,” Rhaenys shrugged, and this time Aemond allowed himself to smile. 

Aemond and Rhaenys walked through three train compartments before they found the tributes. You were sitting at the right wall on a purple velvet sofa, legs curled up under you, staring out of the window. Jasper was busying himself at the bar and the air was heavy with silence. Both of you refused to acknowledge the other, and Aemond cleared his throat to draw your eyes to him. You merely raised your eyes to them while Jasper made to rush around the bar as if they had caught him doing something he shouldn’t. 

“Oh don’t stop on our account, it’s only right you drink what you will before you die,” Rhaenys smiled genially, and Jasper had enough sense to look sheepish. “Alright, you come with me, I’ll be your mentor,” she pointed to Jasper then motioned for him to follow her before walking back out of the room. Jasper hesitated, looking around as if he was unsure what the protocol was, but Aemond just motioned his head to where Rhaenys had disappeared and Jasper jogged after her. 

The room was quiet again. You had returned to staring out of the window, and Aemond slowly made his way over to the sofa you were sitting on. He left a seat between you and sat down, only turned slightly toward you. You finally tore your eyes away from the landscape and looked at him and he could see how red and puffy they were. Red veins crawled over the whites of your eyes and your nose was shiny and a pang of something painful hit his chest. 

“Did you get to say goodbye?” He asked quietly, lacing his hands together in his lap. You nodded, gulping and opening your mouth once, twice, before a croaking voice spoke. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat before speaking again, “I only have my parents so… it was a quick goodbye.” Your lower lip began trembling and your whole face crumpled as you began to sob once more. 

Aemond had seen tributes cry before, it was normal, but not this much. By the time they got on the train they usually gathered themselves up and began trying to concoct a plan. But you, you seemed to be completely lost to despair. Your face was the picture of pain, and you brought your knees up to your chest and rocked yourself slightly. His mouth turned down in pity. 

“My mother bought me this dress,” you finally said through the tears, voice slightly blubbery and high-pitched as you began breathing in to calm yourself. You looked up to meet his eyes and he could barely make out your irises through your crinkled lids and the heaps of water pouring over your lashes. “She wanted to get me something special for my last year in the reaping and she spent a whole salary on the fabric. She toiled night after night, coming home from work to painstakingly stitch every piece together.” You gently caressed the fabric and smiled through the tears and somehow this sight was so much worse than the frown. Aemond’s chest clenched so tight he thought his heart might stop beating altogether. You let out a huff of a chuckle, a watery sound that was quickly followed by a sniffle as you pressed your hands to the fabric before looking up at him and directly into his eyes. Your own were open now, wide as they could go, serious as they could be. 

“I know I can’t win. You know I can’t win. Everyone who watched the reaping knows I can’t win. I’m a girl who’s only skill is dressing pretty. So, Aemond Targaryen, tell me what to do?” You looked at him in earnest, as if he held all the answers, and for a moment Aemond began to question what his mother saw in you. What was this potential she spoke of? All he saw was a weak little girl who couldn’t even be bothered to believe in herself. But then he remembered your walk up to the stage, the strength with which you had held yourself even while you had cried. Now he understood what his mother wanted him to do.  

“You think you can’t win.” He turned to fully face you and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “There’s more to the games than just surviving the arena. You’re good at looking pretty? Then you’ll survive the parade, you’ll excel at the interview, you’ll get sponsors and I’ll be able to help you for longer in the games with that. Not everything is about brute force and murderous intent. You’ll have some time to train before going into the arena, we can use it to teach you a few things. Don’t think about winning, just try surviving,” he watched you as he spoke, noting the way you seemed to breathe easier and your eyes seemed to lighten slightly. Your hands stopped trembling and you uncurled from around your knees, instead spreading your toes out over the plush fabric. 

“Ok,” you breathed out, “I can try,” you affirmed, nodding to yourself, and he allowed you a small smile before becoming sombre again. 

“I won’t lie to you, you will have to do things in the arena that will haunt you if you manage to make it out. The games are designed to turn you into an animal. Even if you go in there without the intention of killing, no one comes out unscathed. So, the real question isn’t about if people believe you can win. Are you willing to do what it takes?” 

Aemond had thought about all the people he had killed for a long time. He remembered every detail about them, from district and family history to what they had looked like the moment life had finally drained from their eyes. He often thought about his final victim, the only person he had gotten along with before they had entered the arena. He thought of the way she had grabbed his wrist and forced the knife into her own stomach, the way she had smiled as she fell to the floor, the eternal smile as the cannon sounded and her blood warmed his hand. The realisation that he was alone in the arena. 

When he saw the smile on your face as you wiped at your tears and brought your feet off the couch, nodding your head and repeating the word yes until you seemed to believe yourself, he thought of the final girl. 

When you reached the capitol, you were separated and attendants led you off to… somewhere. You were stripped bare and forced into a roiling bath filled with all sorts of serums and scents and oils. Your scalp was scrubbed until you could feel each individual hair follicle growing and your skin was pink. They cut and polished your fingernails and toenails and waxed you all over until your skin burned. You were moved onto your stylist who greeted you with kisses on your cheeks before whirling you around to scrutinise your body. He had a gentle smile, and conversed with you all the while you stood on a pedestal in the middle of his room. He told you about the dress he had made for you, all the jewellery available to you and how you had the next few hours to prepare yourself for the parade. 

You allowed yourself to revel in this one luxury. You loved to dress up, to wear fancy clothes and beautify yourself whenever you could. The opportunities had been few and far between back home, despite your parents doing their best to provide you with them. Even if you were going to die in a few weeks time, at least you could enjoy the luxuries offered until then. 

Ursa brought out a garment bag and one of his attendants rolled in three carts covered in jewellery one by one. Ursa hung the bag up right in front of you and zipped it open, to reveal the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. “I watched the reaping and just knew what I would make,” he whispered as both of you stared at it. You brought your hand to your mouth and stepped forward to touch the fabric. 

The dress was dark green, like leaves in the deepest, darkest, part of a forest. A sweetheart neckline with off the shoulder straps that led into long swaths of tulle that would flow behind your arms. Rhinestones were sewn into the fabric almost at random to look like sunlight falling onto the fabric. It had a long train that you knew would drag behind you on the ground and force the carriage behind you to keep at a distance. You realised how he wanted to single you out. The organisers would keep everything symmetrical, so the long gap behind you would mean there was a long gap ahead of you too. Spectators would be drawn to the sight of you two taking up so much space. You would be the centre of attention. 

Ursa helped you into the dress and set the sleeves for you as you gazed at yourself in the mirror. It truly was made for you, each measurement perfect. All the effort Ursa had put into this… you began to tear up but he just hushed you and began fussing over the jewellery carts. He suggested putting a tiara on you but you were hesitant. It felt presumptuous to already wear a crown at the tribute parade. 

“Darling,” he held your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced you to look into his eyes. “Act like you’ve already won. Nothing else will make it easier, and nothing else will grab their attention more.” He slid the comb of the tiara into your hair and forced you to hold your head up high. 

In the next few hours, you were draped with necklaces and bracelets and rings. Just before you were helped up onto the carriage, Aemond appeared at your side. You looked up at him and for a moment he didn’t say a word. He just stared at you, at the dress and the crown and the whole picture of finery. You couldn’t read what was in his eyes and you looked down nervously, trying not to shuffle back out of embarrassment. 

“You look like a winner,” he finally said. 

When training started, your confidence began to wane. You watched all the other tributes heft axes, shoot arrows, slice swords or destroy dummies with their bare hands. You watched other tributes practice building traps or gain strength in their legs for running. It felt like you were the only one starting from rock bottom. You wanted to yell at Aemond, to say “look! Look at my glaring lack of ability! Whatever belief you had in me must be dead!” But everyday he came back, dressed in black athletic wear ready to teach you something new. 

He didn’t bother with any weapon bigger than a dagger, telling you it would only weigh you down. He made you run until you were sick for the first half of every day, then run some more. The second half was spent learning how to use the simplest of supplies to make traps or alarms. He would use rope or wire with a handful of leaves he had gathered from outside the facility. He taught you about plants and water sources and made you list every possible terrain and the best possible strategy to handle it before you could leave for the day. 

Despite the intense rigour with which he attacked your training, he was endlessly patient. He listened to every complaint before forcing you back onto the treadmill. He rubbed ointment on your fingertips after you cut them on the wire but made you rebuild the trap. He made sure you ate a full meal but quizzed you about everything he taught you while you sat together. And on the nights when you missed home, when the world felt like it was ending and your mind could only play the sight of your mother’s face crumpled with tears, the sound of your father crying, he held you and whispered stories of history long past into your ears until you slept. 

He had so quickly become everything to you. At times you thought about how only a little while ago he had been nothing but an image on a screen, a name whispered around town, and now he was your comfort, your nourishment, your whole life, your very soul. You tried to imagine doing this without him, and you simply couldn’t. You knew you would have given up a long time ago if he had not been there to carry you through. 

As the time to enter the arena crept closer and closer, the training got harder and harder. It was on a particularly difficult day that you returned from the facility and began rummaging in your closet for your reaping day dress. You hugged it as you slept sometimes, imagining that you could still smell the faint scent of your mother’s perfume on it. But it wasn’t there. You threw out every scrap of cloth that the capitol had provided for you, opened every drawer and pawed through every nook and cranny like a desperate mouse searching for food. It was nowhere to be found. 

Aemond heard all the noise coming from your room and decided to venture in to figure out what was wrong. He found you sitting on the floor in a pile of underwear and training gear, hair still wet from the shower and tears streaming down your face. You were sobbing quietly, shoulders hunched forward and body bobbing slightly with every hiccuped breath. Your hands were clenched in the clothes you were surrounded by and he could see the chaos that had occurred. Aemond knelt down beside you and gently unclasped one of your hands from the clothes. 

“What’s happened?” He asked quietly, softly touching each one of your fingertips where they were still red from working with the metal wire. 

“My dress is gone,” you whispered hoarsely, looking up at him with big teary eyes. You looked like a child then, the way Daeron had when he used to fall down outside the house and cry until mother soothed his cuts and bruises. Aemond reached up and collected a tear with his thumb. 

“They must have taken it for a wash, I’ll call down and find it,” he soothed, wiping the tear on his pants before repeating the gesture on your other cheek. 

You continued to stare up into his eyes, and he let go of your hand to cup your cheek. He moved closer until his nose gently touched yours. You closed your eyes and waited, feeling his breaths brush over your lips. You waited and waited but he still didn’t kiss you. You opened your eyes again and he was staring at your face with such pain, such sadness that it crushed something in your chest. 

Aemond had never felt such guilt for loving someone. He had happily loved his family and happily loved the one girl who had kissed him while they were still in school (though that had ended quickly). But here, with you, he felt the crushing weight of helplessness as he looked upon your face. He loved you, yet he could do nothing to get you out of this. He loved you, yet all he could give you were a few days, a few kisses, mere moments before everything was thrown into the air. 

You leaned forward and slid your hands into Aemond’s hair. You pressed your lips to his mouth and gently kissed him then pulled away. You did it once more, staying just longer than a peck then pulling back. Then he was kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth and leaning over you so your neck tilted back. The tip of his nose pressed into your cheek and he kissed your lips like they should be cherished. 

You pulled away and caressed his cheek, smiling then gently bumping his nose with yours. He smiled back, huffing out a sad little chuckle. You pressed your nose and mouth to his cheek and kissed him before mumbling against his skin. 

“Thank you, for everything.” 

It was your final night. Tomorrow you would be tossed in the arena and expected to survive for the entertainment of the capitol citizens. While you had done well with the parade, and people had immensely enjoyed your interview, you had scored appallingly low on your assessment. Aemond told you not to worry, that it was a good thing for people to underestimate you, they wouldn’t worry about killing you first because they believed you would end up dying on your own. You at least had cover for now. 

You had eaten in silence, all four of you gathered for your last supper. Jasper had talked and talked, asking last-minute advice and making commentary about the other tributes, but you felt like any energy you might have had before had been completely zapped away. You drank three glasses of water, then walked to your room without a glance back, sitting in your bed to wait for Aemond to come to you. 

It was as you began to doze off that he stepped into your room, the lights dimmed and casting shadows over his face. He walked over and sat in front of you on the bed, reaching over and gently caressing your head for a moment. You didn’t speak for the first few moments, what could you really say? Aemond cleared his throat. 

“Don’t run for the cornucopia, just run for cove-” 

“No advice please,” you interrupted, “not tonight. Tell me everything you can tomorrow morning, speak to me even as I’m being lifted away, but not tonight.” He nodded and shifted closer to you, watching as you reached out to hold his hands. “Will you show me?” You finally asked, and his heart stopped in his chest. 

He knew what you were asking for, but somehow this still terrified him. It was… grotesque, horrifying, and a million other gruesome words. What would you say after seeing it? Aemond gulped and turned away from you to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“When he slashed my eye, that was the most pain I had ever felt in my eye,” he began, voice rough. “Rhaenys sent me bandages and I was able to keep it wrapped up until the end of the games, but after I was lifted out, they took me straight to the hospital. I was delirious, but I remember the medics said there were a million things that could have gone wrong. I was lucky it wasn’t infected, and I was lucky they could perform surgery quickly.” Aemond closed his eye as he spoke but his fists were clenched on his knees. “When I finally woke up, blind in one eye, they brought me a mirror to show me their work. They said they were so proud, that not only had I been given the best care but they had made me seem truly capitol. You know what they did to my eye?” He snapped in your direction and you jumped. He stared at you with his one blue eye, unforgiving as steel. “They shoved a huge chunk of sapphire into the empty socket. There’s no eye in there, no cavity, not even scarred over skin. Every time I take off this eyepatch, the evidence of the games stares back at me. The thought that I have been forever changed by the capitol, disfigured by them in the name of beauty…” his chest was heaving and he had gone deathly pale. You reached over but he swiftly grabbed your hand, grip tight. He stared at your face, at the look of earnest care and pure love in your eyes, and slowly peeled away his fingers. 

You didn’t make a sound as you gripped the strap of his eyepatch and lifted it over his head. You didn’t say a word as you looked upon the rough cut sapphire that sat where his eye should have been. All you did was lean over and kiss him, smiling against his lips and kissing him again. He pushed you onto your back and kissed you until you were breathless. He kissed over your neck, and after removing your nightgown, he kissed down your chest and over your stomach. He pulled down your pants and kissed you between your thighs until you could only call out his name. He kissed your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, and back up to your lips. He pressed into you for the first time, and you whined into his mouth. You dug your nails into his shoulders and he pressed into you once more. He did it again and again and again until you were overcome with pleasure. Then he did it again. 

You stood beside the tube that would take you up into the arena. You couldn’t explain how you felt. Your entire body felt like it was thrumming but your mind was quiet. There were a million things you wanted to say, but not one word passed your lips. 

Aemond had come down with you even though he wasn’t supposed to. You held tight to his hand and he didn’t say a word. He had spent the morning rapidly telling you things you were sure you would forget the moment the horn went off. He had stopped occasionally to kiss you, to caress your hair and hold you until he started breathing normally again. But he could do no more. The countdown had started, and you had a minute before you had to get into the tube. 

“You know what you’re doing, you can survive,” he said simply, holding onto your hands. But you only shook your head and hushed him. 

“Aemond, if I don’t make it out-” 

“Don’t say that,” he spat out, gripping your face in his hands, but you just shook your head as much as you could in his grip. 

“If I don’t make it out, I want you to know how much I love you. I need you to know. It’s the only thing that will let me die peacefully in the arena. I’ll fight, and I’ll try and make my way back to you, but if it should happen that I can’t… I need you to know.” Your lip trembled and you smiled at him, nodding as if everything was fine and you would be back in a minute. 

“I know, I know, of course I know,” he whispered, pressing his lips so tightly to yours that when you pulled away they throbbed. “But you…” he gulped and shook his head and you saw the tears begin to collect in his eyes. “You just make it out,” was all he whispered, and kissed you again. 

He kissed you until you had to rush to get into the tube. He stood by the glass as the final countdown began, ten seconds ticking by faster than they ever had before. And just as you began to rise, hands slipping against the glass, he mouthed ‘I love you,’ but he didn’t know if you had seen it. 

Endnote: I truly believe Rhaenys would win the shit out of the hunger games 

#hotd x reader #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x fem!oc #hunger games au

[ineedtogetalife11]

You Can't Do That- Leo Valdez x F! Poseidon cabin reader.

summary: your older brother Percy doesn't take to kindly to you dating his ex crewmate....

Warnings: Cursing, Kissing,Boo spoilers, hot shirtless latinos, slight mention of sex, but this is after the war, so percy is 18. Slight ooc characters maybe

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the Giant War, everyone's guard had been high, but after a few months, it mostly passed, and life returned to normal. Except for one thing: you had a boyfriend now, when Leo finally killed Gaia, and died, you had been devastated, but when he flew put of the sky, you had been ecstatic. You admitted your feelings for him, which he returned. But that didn't mean that you didn't get the occasional nightmare.

Percy didn't kill Leo after you guys started dating, but he did hand out some colorful death threats, and start stalking monitoring you and Leo on a daily basis.

One night, when Percy was fucking around hanging out in the Athena Cabin, you had a nightmare, Gaia had rosen back and had taken her revenge on Leo. You shot up, and saw that Percy, who usually helped you through your rough nights, wasn't here,

'Oh yeah, he's busy having his own rough night' you thought. You decided to run to the Hephestus cabin to visit Leo.

"Mamacita?" Leo asked sleepily as you shook him awake. "What's up?" You hung your head.

"I- uh, I had a nightmare." Leo sat up.

"Ah, y/n, mamacita, I'm so sorry" he comforted you. "Come on, you can lay here." He said as he scooted over. You climbed into his bed and snuggled into him. And that's when you realized he had no shirt on.

'Oh' you thought slightly staring. He noticed and laughed

"Did you come here to get comfort or did you come to stare at my abs?" You suddenly felt warm.

"I can do both" you retorted he laughed and pulled you closer. He patted your head and you both eventually fell asleep.

~le time skip~

"WHAT THE FUCK!!" You and Leo started awake. You looked up. It was Percy.

"Oh shit" you muttered "Hey Percy!" you smiled

"DON'T 'HEY PERCY' ME Y/N!" you dropped your smile. You could see that this was not going to be easy. Leo shrunk back behind you.

"Coward," you muttered. "WHAT?" You yelled back.

"What are you doing in here?" Percy fired. You opened your mouth to respond, but he had more to say. " What were you doing last night?""Why is Leo shirtless, and why aren't you wearing pants?!" He asked, which made you aware that you were wearing a big t-shirt and underwear.

"Oh my Gods Percy-" you started but he cut you off.

"Were you guys, oh my gods, you're too young, you can't do that!" You felt yourself heat up, and Leo burnt his pants off too.

"NO!" You screamed. "It just got hot at night, so I took off my sweatpants!" " And since we're on that subject, what were YOU doing in the Athena Cabin last night?!" Percy blushed, and you were all suddenly aware that the entirety of the Hephestus cabin was watching.

"Nothing to see here!" Leo said unconvincingly

You glared and kissed him on the cheek. You pulled on your sweatpants. "Bye Leo." You did awkwardly. He waved an tried not to burn his boxers off. Peexy pulled you out of the cabin.

Lets say, that the three of you never brought that up again. But that didn't mean you stopped doing it.

#x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo #fanfic #percy jackson #Leo valdez x reader #Pjo x reader #Percy jackson x reader #ethan nakamura x reader #connor stoll x reader #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #Requested #nothankyou543

[beemango5]

Thinking about how Jotaro Kujo is The Tragic Character™️ of JJBA. Araki simply cannot let that man be happy. He fr said “you can fit so much trauma into this bad boy”!

His entire life was so tragic that we all knew he was going to die, eventually.

His Mother’s life was endangered and on the journey to save her he gains significant trauma from people trying to KILL him and then lost three friends at the ripe old age of 17.

He goes to University, meets a woman he falls in love with, and has a kid. realizes that as long as there’s a threat of enemy stand users wanting revenge for Dio his family will never be safe so he has to leave his family behind and distance himself.

Became a older brother/father figure to Josuke but had to leave him because he knew he would bring enemy stand users into that poor boys life- the only Joestar that had a somewhat of a shot at being normal.

Then in part 5 it’s revealed that when he got separated from Polnareff, Diavolo paralyzed Polnareff. He’s probably carrying guilt from that. He’s also probably stressed asf at first that the son of the vampire who tried to adamantly kill him is just out there somewhere. Thank god Giorno took after Jonathan 😭.

Then in part 6, he had to face his failures as a father, understanding that he didn’t deserve and probably would never get Jolyne’s forgiveness, but it’s so clear to me that Jotaro wanted to be there for her. But of course, to him, the only way he can protect people is to push them far away from him. He never learned that he is stronger in numbers because whenever he was in numbers, someone he loved got hurt.

Jotaro never understood he deserved the happiness of a loving family.

He couldn’t even save his daughter (and he dies believing that Jolyne hates him because he knows he’s a shit father AND WAS OK WITH IT AS LONG AS SHE GOT TO LIVE 😭😭😭) in the process.

He’s a Greek Myth type of sadness.

#Araki could not let Jotaro catch a break gAWD #anime rant #jjba #jojos bizzare adventure #jotaro kujo #jolyne kujo #jotaro and jolyne #part 6 jotaro #jjba stone ocean #stone ocean #golden wind #vento aureo #stardust crusaders #diamond is unbreakable #part 4 jotaro #jean pierre polnareff #jjba part 3 #character analysis #character study #he’s so tragic #jjba spoilers

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya Part ll

Part l can be found here

Pairing: Choso x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Synopsis: After getting back on track of saving her big brother, (y/n) catches Mahito's attention. Choso has to decide if he continues searching for Yuji or rushed to her aid before she gets killed.

Warnings: injury, near death, lil spice in the end, I hope you're sat, not proofread

Tags: @96jnie @shebibtedmypepnis @chososwhoresblog @sanicsmut @curlynoodle937565 @ifuckfictionalmen @nyahctrl @khaleesihavilliard @xuanzangg

You lift yourself off the ground and straighten your uniform. Back to reality, focus your mind on what’s in front of you. It’s your mission to free your big brother, to protect the others.

What about Yuji, though? Choso made it very clear that he’ll hunt him down. Choso with that striking violet eyes, Choso with that perfect lips that kissed you without compassion only minutes ago. Lord have mercy, how is it even possible for a man to be that attractive? And the way his strong biceps felt under your longing hands…

Stop. You shake your head, desperately trying to tame down your pounding heart. This is not the right time to think about things like that. Is Yuji strong enough to face him? Wherever he is, Megumi should be right by his side. The two of them could potentially make it.

Potentially.

Satoru isn’t far away, you’re almost there. Is it really wise to turn around and look after them? If you free Satoru first, he’ll figure everything out eventually. Satoru is your priority, the strongest of them all. And maybe Choso will have some mercy. After all, you showed him very clearly that not all humans are a threat.

Your feet carry you into the direction of the train station on their own. God, how much you hope to see that man again, that man who swept you off your feet like none other. You melted like butter in his rough hands, glimmering violet eyes burning themselves into your mind.

“When I’m done here, I’ll go find you, Choso Kamo.”

-Choso’s POV-

“Oi Choso, can you hear me?”

He signs, rolling his eyes in instinct. What the hell does that jerk want from him now? He should have never agreed on these stupid communicators.

“Unfortunately.”

“Huh, why are you so mean? Did I do anything wrong? Are you-“

“What is it?”, he grumbles.

Mahito gets on his nerves since they’ve first met. Choso only agreed on working with them because he needs to revenge his brothers. He’d rather talk to you, though. God, how is he supposed to think about anything else but your vibrant smile and the way your heels are clicking so elegantly? You are the most breathtaking woman he ever laid his eyes on for 150 years, the only one that really caught his attention. And the way you whimpered against his lips, completely soaked in water and face lit up in neon purple. The thought alone makes his mind wander…

“Did you know Gojo has a little sister? Crazy, isn’t it!? Well, found her alone in a hallway not far away from the seal. You’ve got some time to kill her?”

Choso’s heart drops immediately, eyes widen at Mahito’s words. Fuck, he found you. Why him? Why did you decide to move on, right into their open arms? Of course, you came here to safe your brother, it’s only logical that you follow their traces. But still…

He can’t let them harm you.

“Hands off, I’ll go get her”, Choso hisses.

“Hmm, let’s have a race, shall we? Whoever gets to her and kills her first wins, what fun!”

No. no, no, no. Even though you showed your skills more than clearly when fighting against him, Mahito is a powerful opponent, maybe too strong for even you. If he finds you…

There is a high chance that he’ll kill you.

“No, wait!”, Choso shouts into the device.

No reaction.

“Fuck!”

With a loud bang he crashes the communicator into a nearby wall. He doesn’t have time for something like this right now. Fuck, he waited for this moment of revenge for way too long.

But you.

Your striking blue orbs linger through his mind, the way you smiled at him so cocky.

“Let’s be…friends.”

His hands clench into fists, mind fighting against his heart. He knows it’s wrong to run after you, to even care about you the slightest. But he can’t help himself.

His feet carry you back into the opposite direction, back to you.

-(y/n)’s POV-

“And who the hell are you, shitface?”, you question, gazing at the man in front of you while tilting your head to the side in a playful way.

He isn’t nearly as handsome as Choso, that’s for sure. But he’s definitely on the same side as him. Is he human? He sure looks like it. But something about him is off.

“Why so rude? This is our first meeting after all”, he remarks and makes a pout.

“Oh I’m so sorry, did it hurt your feelings that I called you shitface? I thought you already knew”, you purr.

“You should look in the mirror. After all you’re almost a replica of Satoru Gojo.”

“Caught me there”, you give in.

“And I’ll beat your ass just like my brother did.”

You yank forward, ready to hit him full force with your bare fist. He doesn’t seem like a strong opponent, definitely not tougher that Choso. But why is he here, then?

Faster than you’re able to react he slams you into a nearby wall, making your vision go dark for a moment. You cough on your own blood, too stunned to speak. That man is a cursed spirit, that’s for sure. And a damn strong one.

Your limbs are already burning like hell when you stand back up, wiping away a trail of blood that escapes your mouth with an elegant smile.

“Not nice to beat a lady this rudely”, you comment dryly.

In the dark, your mind races. Who is this? What is his weakness? What are you supposed to do? If that’s a special grade curse, your chances are pretty ugly. To be exact, none other than Satoru himself would be able to defeat him. Well, at least that explained how they were even able to seal your big brother.

“Well, you’re human. I don’t make any exceptions there”, he remarks.

He lunges himself at you, arms deformed into sharp blades. Over and over, you hide your limbs from his merciless attacks while your mind searches for a way out of your misery. It seems like your cursed energy just bounces off him with ease, despite the power you lunge at him, he parries every slash so effortlessly that you don’t know what to do.

Slowly but surely, your attacks start to get weaker, mind more and more distracted. You can’t keep up with him, it is impossible to escape the bows of his bare hands, slicing your delicate skin open with ease over and over, breaking your bones like sticks.

Suddenly, he grabs your throat and pushes your body against a wall, feet hanging in the air. Fuck, it feels as if he’s crushing your windpipe with the sheer force of his fingers, watery eyeballs feelings as if they’ll plop out any minute. Is this really how you’ll die?

Oh, how much you wish to see them again one last time. You never got the chance to say goodbye to your brother. And even though you were never as gifted and talented as him, he always strongly believed in your abilities. How would he take it, hearing you got killed by a random curse on a random Halloween night in a dark hallway while trying to save his ass?

And what about Choso? You only met him one time, but his words sounded like a secret promise, a promise to see each other again. You just wished you had more time. Fuck, why did he defeat you this easily? Your whole body screams out in agony, sliced open multiple times by his cruel blades.

“Funny, now you suddenly don’t have such a big mouth anymore”, he throws at you, maniac grin plastered on his face.

“But don’t worry, at least you’ll be reunited with your big brother then. A nice little family meeting, right?”

Focus, don’t give up so easily. Your hands fight against his, trying to push him away, to scratch him, to kick him. But your vision starts to get blurry, ears ringing. You need, you can-

You feel yourself fainting away into sweet darkness.

Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe Choso is better off without you, going his own way.

Choso’s eyes widen in pure horror when his dark premonitions come true. Without thinking twice, he slices Mahito’s hands off, your numb body falling to the ground roughly.

“That’s cheating!”, Mahito cries out in frustration.

You gasp for air like a fish on land, lungs slowly but surely filling themselves with life again. Fuck, this was really close. What happened? Why did he let go of you?

“Get your disgusting hands off her.”

Your heart stops. Choso.

He walks towards you, eyes scanning your figure. You are severely injured, but still conscious. He needs to get you out of here as soon as possible. If Mahito hits you one more time…

No, he can’t think this through. Despite the countless lives he took, all the lives that vanished in front of his eyes, the thought of losing you seems unbearable.

Why does he feel this way? What has gotten into him to start a fight over a human woman he knows for maybe an hour? This is reckless, this is dumb-

This is all he’s able to think about at the moment.

With a swift motion he lifts you up in his arms, your weak head resting against his broad chest.

“Choso?”, you breathe out, lids desperately fighting against the urge to close.

“What you up to? Do you like her? I mean, for a human, he has a pretty nice face and really mesmerizing hair and eyes but…she’s the enemy, Choso. I’m sure Geto doesn’t like hearing about this.”

“I don’t give a damn about all of you. I need her to fulfill my own mission, so stay out of it”, Choso hisses through gritted teeth, walking past Mahito confidently.

“I really don’t have a good feeling about this!”, Mahito shouts behind both of you, but Choso is already on his way back into the lonely hallways of the train station.

“What are you doing here?”, you mumble.

Fuck, everything hurts. You are pretty sure that that fucker broke a few of your ribs, let alone the countless wounds he inflicted on you. Damn, you almost died. If Choso didn’t show up…

“I came here to save you”, he explains briefly, eyes focused in front of him.

“I don’t need a prince in shining armor”, you mutter along with a weak attempt to free yourself out of his grip.

“Pathetic”, Choso notes.

He lets you down gently, his hands lifting up your skirt just enough to inspect your wound along with making your lower body screaming in excitement.

“Don’t be shy, you’re totally allowed to touch me handsome.”

“Would you just stop saying such things?”

Again, that cute little blush creeping up his cheeks. Oh, how much you longed to see him again. Even though you didn’t plan on meeting him so soon. God, the pain throbbing through your whole body seems to eat you up alive.

“Y’know, I have nothing against repeating that one part of our last encounter…”

“You mean me throwing you against the wall?”, he grumbles.

“You can throw me into bed anytime.”

“Damnit (y/n).”

He stops in his tracks, hands grabbing your shoulders while his eyes seem to pierce through you.

“I’m really trying to focus but you’re making it hard for me when you’re saying such things. You are injured and need to be taken care of”, he clarifies.

“I’d love you to take care of me.”

You grin like an idiot, making Choso almost lose what’s left of his self-control. How is it possible to look so damn fine and have a cheeky mouth after being severely injured? Don’t you understand that Mahito would have killed you right on the spot if it wasn’t for him?

“Can’t you be serious for once?”

“Thank you for saving me”, you suddenly blurt out.

His eyes soften.

“I just don’t understand why. I know you were on your way to kill Yuji. What made you stop? Why were you even there?”

“Mahito told me about your presence. I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

His very own words sound so dumb in his ears that it hurts. Damn, he knows you for a few hours, you are one of his enemies. Why is he kneeling in front of you, why did he even save you in the first place? It shouldn’t bother him, you shouldn’t mean a single thing to him. But the way you look up through your wet lashes with doe eyes, mouth slightly parted…

He can’t help but give in. Gently, he presses his lips against yours, careful to not hurt you. Fuck the rules, fuck the others, fuck the mission. His intuition tells him to pull you closer, let his hands roam through your hair, kiss you with so much passion that he can’t catch his breath.

Are you dreaming? The way his soft lips feel against yours sure make you feel this way. Instinctively, you wrap your aching arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, feeling him even better. Oh god, how much you needed this. Your heart screams at you like never before, butterflies invading your stomach. This feels just right. Yes, that is all you ever wanted.

“Choso”, you whimper into the kiss.

Hearing his name out of your sweet mouth simply drives him insane. He has to have you. No, he fucking needs you. Something about you tells him that you are special, that there is no way he’ll let you go again. Maybe it is time to switch sides. Maybe he should listen to your side of this story. Maybe, just maybe.

“You’ll be the death of me”, he mumbles against your parted lips, fingertips caressing your cheek.

“Let’s die together, then”, you reply, pulling him in roughly for another passionate kiss.

-Bonus-

“Tell me this is a joke, (y/n)”, Satoru mutters, staring wide-eyed at Choso’s and your intertwined hand.

“Well, a lot happened while you were resting your ass”, you remark, eyes fluttering by a glimpse at the breathtaking gorgeous man next to you.

“Don’t worry sensei, he’s my big brother!”, Yuji reassures, making you nod proudly.

All your big brother is able to do is stare at you with his mouth hanging open.

“How often did I told you to stay single?”, he questions.

“How often did I tell you that I don’t care?”

“He’s a bad guy, he murderer countless people, (y/n)! Use your brain just once!”

“I always told you I’m into bad guys. Come to terms with it.”

Choso wraps his arm around you, pressing your body against his firm abs.

“Let’s go somewhere more…exciting”, you mutter, eyes darken.

“Oh god, I wish I never saw that. Please kill me right on the spot”, Satoru cries out in disgust.

“Nothing easier than that…”, Choso comments dryly.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojo jjk #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #choso jjk #choso kamo #choso #jjk choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #chousou #choso my beloved #choso fluff #choso smut #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #jjk fluff #jjk shibuya arc #jjk season 2

[aroaceleovaldez]

i think a lot about how the more we learn about Hades as the series goes on, the more it informs his character in the first series and particularly highlights some of the major themes of the first series.

Hades is a god who has lost everything and is one of our most poignant examples of how the gods are incredibly, painfully subject to human emotions like loss and grief just as much as any mortal. He lost Maria, had to give up the di Angelo siblings, was forcibly kept away from Hazel by Gaea, Marie, and Zeus, and eventually lost Hazel and Marie as well. He spent three and a half years after Maria's death knowing Hazel was stuck with Gaea and being unable to do anything about it without Zeus killing her too, besides at best trying to send her warnings and encouragement from afar, and knowing she would inevitably die too. He essentially spends three years mourning his still living daughter because he can do nothing to save her. And after it's all over all he can do is try to give Hazel the best chance in the Underworld he can and wallow in his grief.

And he's immortal, so those 70-odd mortal years are nothing to him. Losing the di Angelos and Levesques is still recent to him. He's still freshly wounded enough to sic monsters after Thalia in revenge. And then right after he gets Nico and Bianca back, he loses Bianca truly this time.

And Hades and Nico's grief are parallels! They've lost the same family. They lash out with their pain and self-isolate, pushing people away. Hades constantly compares Nico to Bianca after Bianca's death and jabs at him. He hides in the Underworld and refuses to help or interact with the Olympians. And it's a direct parallel to Nico - To Nico, that grief is condensed too, because to him only 6 months have passed between his mother's death and Bianca's. He runs away and refuses to return to CHB after Bianca's death. He lashes out at Percy trying to help. Hades and Nico are the only ones each other have left but they're too absorbed in their pain to acknowledge that. It isn't until Nico starts healing from losing Bianca at the end of BoTL that we see a shift - Nico isn't self-isolating anymore, he's sorting himself out and finding his own path. He seeks others out at his own pace - finding Camp Jupiter, visiting Percy. He's stopped lashing out. But Hades still hasn't, and it isn't until TLO that Nico calls him out on that very behavior. The Olympians are his family, he is Hades' family, and Hades is too busy focusing on what he lost to stop shutting out the family he still has left. And at the end of TLO and into HoO we see Hades finally make the same shift Nico did - he's embracing his family, he's stopped pushing them away, heck he's even getting out of the house more. But we still see even more parallels between him and Nico in how they cope with loss - we know that Hades was told he couldn't revive Maria. But when Nico goes to search for Bianca to revive her, it's heavily implied Hades intentionally allowed Nico to revive Hazel. Hades orchestrated the revival of his daughter because both Nico and Hades are still holding on to what they lost.

The core of Hades' character in PJO is that the god of the dead is mourning. And I find that so fascinating.

#pjo #riordanverse #hades pjo #nico di angelo #analysis #hoo #heroes of olympus #chewing on hades/pluto fam. theyve got so much going on and i love it

[that-basic-simp]

Nobody's But Yours

Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: Trauma WC: 1.1k+

"I am nobody's wife."

Sitting in front of Mizu, the two of us were sipping tea together as the winter storm raged outside. It was a miracle she was able to find the house in this storm after being away for so long. She must have almost frozen since her entire face was very red and her entire body was trembling. Even in front of the fire now she was still shaking.

"That day is coming up again," Mizu said.

I had an inkling of what she meant by that day.

"It is," I said, sipping my tea.

"You do know what day I'm talking about, right?"

"I do, Mizu."

"The day I killed him," she breathed out.

"Mizu," I slowly lifted my head up to find her blue eyes.

"I still think about it. I-I should have just hid it. I should have just put away with that side of me and just became a housewife."

"But it was as you said," I said.

"Said what?"

"You're nobody's wife."

She slowly nodded her head, "T-There is some truth in that."

"How so?"

"Well, Mikio and I struggled to settle into married life. More so me since I was so used to fighting and spilling blood. Having a quiet life where I am not fighting day in and out just did not settle with me. I couldn't get used to it. Besides, I had a job to do. I had to get revenge on them. Those white men, I had to kill them. And being married and settled down, it got in the way of everything."

"Did you love Mikio?"

"Within time, I did. I eventually fell in love with him, but then things happened. And I felt betrayed by them all."

"I do remember you telling me that," I said.

"I haven't been able to feel love since then. It would cost me everything, but it would also hold me back. But," her eyes found mine as she lifted her head. "Then came you. Someone who I didn't think would come into my life."

I smiled, "Life surprises you, Mizu."

"I know it does. And I am grateful for the surprise that was you."

I giggled, "Come now, Mizu. I know you're just trying to win me over."

"You mean to tell me I haven't already?" she snickered, a small smirk appearing on her lips.

"No, you already have."

"What was it?"

"What was what?"

"What about me made you like me?"

"Well, there was a lot about you, Mizu, but the first and the big one were your eyes."

"My eyes?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah. I loved your eyes. How stark blue they were. Like the ocean, calm, yet dangerous at times. And sometimes they reminded me of ice if you were really angry. But when you're sad, they turn dull at times. Almost gray."

"Oh," she said.

"Afterwards, it was your voice. I don't know if it was your natural voice that eventually came out, or if it was when you lower it."

"You mean, like this?" she asked, the last part of the sentence lowering in tone, almost like a growl. It was raspy, like gravel.

I shivered visibly, causing her to smile darkly.

"Exactly like that."

She chuckled, "Seems I know how to get to you."

"And I also like the one thing your husband didn't."

"What's that?"

"How skilled you are. How you're able to wield both a sword and a spear. And how you're able to make anything into a weapon," I chuckled. "Especially when you used a chopstick against Taigen to prove a point."

A small, proud smile danced across her lips, "Yeah."

"Mizu, I-I like how strong you are. How you don't underestimate yourself, but also don't boast like Taigen. You show your strength and it mesmerizes people. It makes them look at you in awe and admiration."

"Why admire that part of me?" she asked.

"Because it's a side of you that you had to do yourself. You had to train yourself because no one else would. Because you had to hide that part of yourself and many more," I tilted my head down, staring down at my reflection in the tea.

"Mizu," I breathed out.

"Yes, Y/N?" her voice was soft and light, genuinely concerned if I was alright.

"W-What am I to you?"

She almost choked on her tea, coughing as she patted her chest, trying to clear out the blockage.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I should have let you finish your tea."

"I-It's fine," she rasped out, clearing her throat. "Y-You mean a lot to me. You, aside from Ringo, were the only person who looked past my imperfections. My impurities."

"What you call imperfections and impurities, I call uniqueness."

She nodded slightly, "You didn't call me a demon, monster, onryo, the list goes on and on. You saw me for who I was and not what I was. Y-You looked past everything. And saw me for face value."

"Well, you do that when you love someone," I said quietly.

"What?" she asked, picking her head up.

"N-Nothing. G-Go on."

"And well, you've just been really good to me. Treating me when I am wounded, genuinely concerned for my well being and all. And you always make sure I am safe when I am out and about. Making sure I have my glasses, my hat, everything I need to hide who I am."

"When this is all said and done?" I began to ask.

"You mean when I finish killing those men?"

"Yes. When you finish killing them, when you come back here, are you going to hide anymore?"

She smiled softly at me, "Why would I hide to the one I love?"

Picking my head up, there was a sparkle in her eyes as she stood up, sitting beside me. I turned and faced her as she reached down and grabbed my hands.

"I don't need to hide from you, since you already know. But when I am with you, I feel like I can let that side of myself be free. Like how I felt with Mikio, but it's actually there. I don't need to hide my feminine side as well as my masculine side. The side where I can take a life without second guessing. Everything that makes me who I am."

I smiled and removed one of my hands from hers, reaching up to cup her cheek. She reached up and removed her glasses, letting me see her beautiful eyes. Those water like orbs that looked like they could glow if they wanted to.

"B-But what you said," I spoke.

"I know what I said, but you're the only exception," she leaned towards me.

Our lips were mere inches away and I closed the gap. Pressing my soft lips against hers, she let out a soft hum as she kissed me back. Removing my other hand from hers, my arms snaked around her neck, digging into her hair. I grabbed at the string that held her hair up, letting it fall down to its natural length. It was another rare sight for me to see her hair down. But it was also another beauty about her. Pulling away, she pressed her forehead against mine.

"I am nobody's but yours," she whispered.

"I love you, Mizu."

"I love you, too."

#mizu #bes mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #mizu x reader

[lendeah]

The currents of destiny

Chapter 2: Power hungry.

Summary: G'Axir shows Astarion what his life would be like had Tav carried on with the Ascension ritual. Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader/Tav Word Count: 3.3k Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

[AO3 Link]

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

NOTE: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS/TAGS BEFORE PROCEEDING. DARK CHAPTER. THANK YOU.

Before Astarion could protest or question further, a blinding white light engulfed him and G'axir both. He felt himself being pulled through space and time, his body weightless and disoriented.

Suddenly, he regained control of his body. And his breath was caught in his throat: he was in front of Cazador, his master still alive and well. His companions were a few meters away, watching him with apprehension. In an incredible turn of events, he had been transported back in time to just a few hours earlier. He attempted to call out to them, but his mouth moved on its own before he could say anything.

"Help me do this, please"

Astarion's heart dropped as he realized what was happening. He was a helpless spectator, forced to watch his own actions unfold without any control. He watched Tav's face, the conflict swimming in her eyes.

"We would kill all these people... seven thousand, Astarion. Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.

"These people died years ago trust me on that. All that's left a feral spawn, desperate for blood. If we release them how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?" he replied, but he sensed he was trying to convince himself just as much as Tav.

In the past, this was the point when Tav had refused to assist him. Now, however, she looked torn, her brows furrowed as she considered his offer.

"If I complete the ritual... think of the power I'll have. With me by your side we can we can save the city - we can save ourselves!" Astarion could hear the desperation in his own voice and he hated himself for it.

He could feel everything his mind was going through at that moment: fear, hunger for power, and a sense of desperate urgency. But amidst it all, he also saw the turmoil reflected in Tav's eyes. He could see the internal struggle she was facing, the weight of the decision weighing heavily on her shoulders, something he hadn't noticed before.

After a few seconds, he could sense the parasite quivering inside his mind, the telltale sign that Tav was opening her mind to him. The moment their minds linked, Tav's presence flooded his senses, and he saw himself through her eyes, standing in front of Cazador, his back to her revealing the intricate design of his scars. He felt her emotions; the trembling anxiety and deep concern, but also the unwavering trust she had in him.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but be curious about the potential outcome. The power and control that completing this ritual would bring were too enticing to ignore. And with Tav's help, he could finally get revenge on Cazador and be truly free.

After that, the vision blurred and flashed, a dizzying array of images assaulting Astarion's mind. He saw himself marking Cazador's back with the complex patterns that adorned his own back. Then, the image shifted and he was throwing his master into the very place that should have been his. In that moment, a blinding flash of red washed over Astarion and he felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through his body. His senses were overloaded, his mind expanding to absorb all the knowledge and abilities that came with the ascension. It was like being struck by lightning, a rush that left him breathless and reeling. He repeated a series of words, an enchantment that felt unfamiliar on his tongue.

And after another flash, Astarion felt... nothing. No fear, no hunger, nothing at all. What is going on?

His surroundings slowly came into focus: the ground beneath him strewn with the bodies of his siblings, all lifeless and still. Blood stained the walls and floor, a stark contrast to the pristine stone that adorned them before. His body turned to look at Tav and his companions, who were still watching him from the sidelines. And they looked completely horrified at the sight.

"What have you done?!" Karlach screamed.

But his body, that other version of him, still didn't feel anything. The Ascended version of himself - stronger, more powerful than ever before – remained expressionless. A sickening realization hit him like a punch to the gut - his siblings, seven thousand souls, Sebastian, the Gur children... all dead because of him. And at that moment, Astarion felt a surge of guilt and shame wash over him. He couldn't believe what he had done. He had been consumed by his hunger for power, driven by his past self's desperation.

I didn't mean... I didn't think... Astarion stammered, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. But the words were lost in the void of his consciousness.

"Astarion…" Tav's voice was filled with disbelief and sadness. "Has this... really been worth it?" her voice cracked with disappointment, the sadness and guilt in her eyes too much for Astarion to bear.

He could feel the pain radiating off Tav. He needed to reach out, comfort her... but he couldn't. He was trapped inside his mind, a prisoner in his own flesh.

His body moved towards Tav slowly; reached out and cupped her cheek gently with its hand.

"I did it for you, for us," he whispered softly, running its thumb against her bruised and tear-streaked cheek.

And yet… as he saw the raw pain etched into her features; as he watched tears welling up in her eyes, spilling over and streaking down her cheeks; as he heard her whisper his name one more time – filled with sadness, disappointment, and an indescribable heartbreak – he felt nothing. His body felt nothing but pride and greed for more power. And the thought terrified him to his very core.

“Trust me, Tav,” His voice spoke on its own accord, before his consciousness was moving again.

He couldn't see anything else around him, just the overwhelming brightness that seemed to swallow him whole. When Astarion opened his eyes, the stone and debris had been replaced with pristine white walls adorned with elegant artwork. As he took in his new surroundings, a soft breeze tickled his skin and the gentle sounds of seagulls filled his ears. He was gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sparkling blue sea stretching out before him. He was no longer in the ruins of his past; he had been transported to a beautiful seaside bedroom.

Confusion filled his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Was this another vision? Or was this reality?

His body turned from the windows to the space next to him, and he realized Tav was standing in front of him, looking... tired. And bruised.

"I really can't believe you let me do that... killing all those people..." Ascended Astarion chuckled darkly, "such a pleasant surprise."

He saw the guilt etched on her face, the sadness. Astarion felt his stomach churn at the thought that Tav might hate him for what he had done. But I didn't mean to...

Astarion's body walked towards Tav, reaching out to cup her face gently in its hand. But instead of the usual warmth and tenderness he felt towards her, there was only disgust. His body was repulsed by her weakness.

"I... I just wanted what was best for you," she replied softly, looking at her hands.

"You sweet, sweet thing," His body spoke in a mocking tone, the hand that once held such tenderness now gripping Tav's chin tightly, making her look at him. "I want what's best for you too, of course. And... one wicked turn deserves another."

Wait, what? Astarion felt a cold and ugly realization seep into his mind. Could he really mean... No, he wouldn't...

"Isn't that what you want, pet?" his body continued.

No. No she doesn't want it. What is this?! Stop this! "I-I just want you to be happy. I want us to stay together," Tav's voice trembled as she tried to reason with his body.

"Is that so?" His body countered. "You're the one that I want, the one that I love and you could be so much more if you want it. One little bite, and you could be mine, forever..." his ascended version said. But Astarion could taste de lie on his tongue. He wanted to make her his spawn.

And at that moment, Astarion felt pure unadulterated terror like he had never felt before. No! No no no! Astarion screamed, clawing at the invisible bars of his conscience. Please, no! Not her! Astarion's screams echoed inside his head as he watched his body move closer to Tav, his eyes glinting with hunger and desire for control. But it was no use. He was trapped inside his own nightmare, forced to relive the horrors of his past as he became the monster that once ruled over him.

His body was now leaning towards her, close enough to feel her soft breath against his lips, close enough to see the fear in her eyes – a fear he could not respond to. "Say it, love," it cooed dangerously, its voice a haunting echo of seductive promises.

"I... I..." Tav stuttered, her trembling hands tightly clutching the front of his shirt.

"Are you ready to join me? To accept this immortal gift? Say yes..." a commanding whisper slipped past his lips against his will, dark hunger coursing through his body. Astarion felt his soul scream in agony, unable to alter the horrible course he had set them on. Because he already knew that look in her eyes, that determination. It was the look she had when standing up for him against his siblings, the one she wore while letting him drink from her every night, the look she gave him on the night she confessed her love. The look that said she would do anything and everything for him.

Slowly, her lips moved, and a small whisper escaped them. "I love you..."

No! Astarion's soul shrieked inside his mind, but the body wasn't listening. Astarion tried to push back against the darkness, to will his body to do something, anything, to stop itself.

As tears streamed down her face, she whispered a tearful "yes." He longed to comfort her, to promise that everything would be okay and to protect her from the monstrous version of himself.

But it was too late.

His physical form gave into a cruel grin as she submitted to his will, and Astarion could feel its disgust at her degradation, at her weakness.

"I knew you'd come around..."

His body gently captured Tav's soft weeping face between his hands, his thumbs brushing away the mournful tears on her cheeks. "Such a good girl," his voice was honeyed darkness, "You'll be so beautiful... everlasting... My dark consort."

His body slowly pushed Tav down to the floor, her back resting against the cold stone. It was a cruel twist of fate that the one person who had shown him kindness and acceptance would now become his first slave. Tav closed her eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. The irony wasn't lost on Astarion, he was giving her a lover's kiss before death.

As his body pulled away from the kiss, his icy fingers traced down from her throat to the collar of her shirt. He slowly peeled it off to bare her neck, not breaking eye contact. "Tonight I shall drink every drop of your blood, own your body, kill your mind. It will hurt a bit, but worry not; the pleasure will be far greater than the pain." his body said, grinning wolfishly at Tav who was paralyzed in fear, yet rooted in love.

She was heaving, fear evident in her features. "P-please, just... be gentle."

No! Please, don't kill her! Not her! Astarion's conscience screamed for him to stop, to save the woman he loves from this fate. But he was powerless, trapped inside his own body as it lowered its head towards her exposed neck. The scent of her blood, warm and sweet filled his nostrils. His fangs bore into her flesh and released a mouthful of hot crimson life that made Astarion's instinctual heart pound with excitement even as his soul recoiled in horror.

He felt completely helpless as he witnessed his own body draining the life from Tav, not even able to look away. He was forced to listen to her soft gasps and whimpers, unable to do anything to stop it. The person he loved more than anyone else was slowly dying at his own hands. He could do nothing but watch as she lay on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood, her once vibrant skin now pale and her lips lacking their usual rosy color. Those same lips that he had loved to kiss and watch curve into an easy smile were now still and lifeless.

If he could have shed tears, he would have wept in despair and regret. If he were in his own physical form, he knew he would be retching now. But he could do nothing but scream and claw, the pain all consuming in his soul.

After what seemed like an eternity, his body finally pulled away from Tav's neck and stood up straight. He wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand and looked down at Tav's lifeless body with a sense of triumph.

"You were delicious as always, dear," his voice echoed inside Astarion's mind.

And just like that, he was once again drifting through the vast emptiness of space. But his exhaustion and defeat were so overwhelming that he couldn't bring himself to care.

When the light faded after what seemed like hours, Astarion found himself standing in a familiar place - Cazador's Palace once again. But this time, it was... different. At first, he couldn't pinpoint it. But then, he noticed: the paintings on the wall didn't depict his former master anymore. He froze as he watched the stranger with white hair and red eyes watching him from the portrait. The man's face was unknown, but something about him felt...familiar. Remnants from another life.

He couldn't look away from those piercing red eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. His body stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch the painting.

And he realized, it wasn't a stranger; it was himself. Older, more weathered, and with a haunting look in his red eyes. The first time he was seeing his face in 200 years. His finger slid over the canvas, feeling the rough texture beneath his touch. There was pride emanating from this version of himself and it sent shivers down his spine.

What is this? he whispered inside his mind, his voice cracking with emotion.

The realm of possibilities... that might have unfolded had you embraced ascension... your destiny left unfulfilled... G'axir's voice echoed through his subconscious.

Astarion's stomach churned as his body moved around the room. Everything had been changed. The furniture was placed differently, new artwork adorned the walls, but it still retained its eerie and dark atmosphere as it did with his old master. As he traversed down a never-ending corridor, his steps echoed loudly in the eerie silence. Servants scurried past him, their heads bowed in reverence. But there was something off about them, almost as if they were under some sort of spell. Their movements were stiff and mechanical, and their eyes lacked any emotion or life.

After what felt like an eternity, his body finally reached the grand dining hall. Two servants dressed in impeccably crisp uniforms opened the massive doors for him. The room was filled with the warm, flickering light of numerous candles, illuminating the extravagant decorations adorning the walls. A long table stretched across the room, set with elegant china and silverware that could only belong to a king. But there was no one sitting at the table, creating a strange emptiness in the room. His body continued past the elaborate table, towards a magnificent throne that now stood at the far end of the room.

No. No, no, no.

There, atop the throne, draped in garments more regal than his master Cazador had ever let him wear, sat Tav. Her skin was nearly translucent, veins snaking just beneath the surface like tendrils of a creeping vine. Her eyes radiated an unnatural crimson glow that revealed her spawn nature. Tav's face held no familiarity in its gaze; only vacant submission under her crimson eyes. She looked nothing like the woman he had known - stubborn, fierce, and full of life. Now all that remained was an empty shell drained of hope and vitality, turned into a puppet. The sight of it made his stomach flip. This could not be happening. It was a nightmare.

He watched, appalled, as his body ascended the steps to the throne with a predatory grace. She, on the other hand, stood from the throne, head bowed in submission. He took his place on the seat, pulling Tav onto his lap. She sat there silently, not moving or uttering a single word.

I'm so sorry Astarion whispered brokenly inside his head.

And then, horror upon horror, his body began to speak.

"My beautiful pet," he murmured into the hollow of her neck. "Isn't it a delight to see how far we've come?"

She met the gaze of her new master with an impassive face - a puppet on strings. "Of course. I couldn't be happier, my lord," she replied, though her face remained impassive, not even a ghost of an emotion flickering in her eyes. Her body seemed rigid, save for the slight tremble that shook her form.

She didn't fight back or resist, which only fueled the anger of his ascended self. He could sense its thoughts; how she was now dull and uninteresting, lacking all the fire and fight that she once had.

"Ah, so compliant..." his mouth whispers, tracing a thumb along her jawline - a horribly intimate act that made Astarion's heart lurch in revulsion. "But you've been very bad, trying to sneak out at night," his body continued, pressing its lips against Tav's neck in a mock kiss. "And you know what we do to naughty pets..."

Astarion's mind was filled with revulsion and disgust at the scene happening before him. His worst fear had come true: he had used and abused her feelings until there was nothing left of the person she used to be. He couldn't believe he had almost let himself become so consumed by power. He couldn't believe he had begged for Tav to turn him into this. Into... his master.

He had everything he had ever wanted: power, control, and Tav by his side. And yet, holding all this in his grasp, his body felt empty. Devoid of any emotion. The ritual had given him everything he had hoped for, and he had paid the price with his soul.

"Now," the voice continued, "I think it’s time you show your master just how truly sorry you are."

Ascended Astarion's hand tightened around her throat as he dragged her towards his lips. She struggled against his grip, clawing at his arm and gasping for air, but he was too strong.

"NO! Astarion, please!" She begged, out of breath.

Astarion was panicking, searching for a way out of this nightmare. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free from his own body's control. As Astarion's mind reached its breaking point, G'Axir's voice echoed back in his head.

In your gaze... the aftermath unfolds... revealing the life consumed by an insatiable hunger for power. G'Axir supplies in his mind. Prepared to venture forth... into the next glimpse?

Astarion could feel his sanity slipping away as he pleaded, Stop this, I beg you! I will do anything but please get me the fuck out of here!

And finally, the vision stopped.

Note: Oof, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions, hard torturous version. I promise next chapters will be lighter than this one. Also, I think I have left my Astarion traumatized (even more). LMK if you want to be added to a taglist :)

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #astarion x you