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friendship-ditch · 5 months

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The 74th Games - Pt. 1

(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀

Summary: It’s reaping day. You expect the most surprising thing to be Katniss Everdeen volunteering for his sister… until your name is pulled right after.

Warnings: Slight language, nothing bad. (There’s no real romance shown but it’s being built up) Pt. 2

Word Count: 3527

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

The crowd fell silent. Your head snapped up, whipping in the direction of the frantic voice. A feeling of surprise overtook you as you saw the scene unfold.

Katniss Everdeen stood a few feet away from you, everybody else having backed off. She was staring at her sister Prim who was in the restraining arms of the Peacekeepers. Nobody moved a muscle for almost a minute, besides your racing heart.

“I see we have a volunteer.” The Capitol woman on the stage spoke, her voice tinted with amusement. She was caked in makeup and dramatic, bright clothing. She didn’t even look real, and not in a good way.

You watched silently, almost paralyzed as Katniss hugged her younger sister Primrose, and then was brought up onto the small stage.

You’d known of the Everdeens for most of your life. Your father bought some of Katniss’s squirrels and other game when resources were low, and you had traded cheese with Primrose quite a few times over the past few years for your own baked goods at the bakery. Like everyone else in District 12, you knew of each other and had grown up together, but you weren’t exactly friends.

You’d wanted to be friends with Katniss though, ever since you first saw her at school. Unfortunately the girl was too busy focusing on the survival of herself and her family, and you were too shy, so nothing ever came of that yearning you eventually buried. It never quite went away though, but now she was most likely going to die. Your only interaction was and forever would be—

“What’s your name?” The Capitol woman asked as Katniss was brought up to the stage.

The poor girl softly uttered her name, avoiding looking into anybody's eyes. There was no regret in her gaze, just fear, and a few forming tears.

After a few more words, the Capitol woman turned to the second bowl beside her.

“And now for the boys.” She smiled gleefully and stuck her name into the bowl. Her fingers hitched around a piece of paper and she pulled it out, unfolding it with an uneasy daintiness.

There was a split second of silence, and then the name was called.

“Y/n.”

What?

The crowd was utterly silent this time.

Your head was spinning, your heart racing so hard and loud you thought everybody could hear it. You didn’t move an inch.

You snapped back to reality as the woman called your name again. Your name. How is that possible? You’re a girl. They were supposed to call a boy!

One of the other girls from school that you didn’t quite get along with pointed at you. Then a few others joined in until it was clearly obvious that you were called.

The Capitol woman’s face twisted into a frown. She looked down at the paper clutched beneath her nails again, and then back at you. “Your name is y/n?”

You nodded silently.

The woman looked behind her to the other workers for some hint on what to do, but nobody knew either. She took in a big breath, shook her shoulders, and then sighed with another plastic smile.

“Alright, come on up then.”

With legs of jelly and a spinning head, you slowly crept up the stairs onto the small stage, a few peacekeepers trailing after you. You weren’t sure if you were going to faint, be sick, or just combust right on the spot but all options were plausible.

When you made it on the stage, the woman gave you that same smile, though her eyes showed the opposite.

“Our tributes from District 12!” The woman announced proudly. “Go on you two, shake hands.”

You slowly turned towards Katniss like a robot. You didn’t want to meet her eyes but you couldn’t help yourself.

Her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth was a thin flat line, but her eyes were softer. Katniss’s emotions were hard to read from just her face, but you could see a flicker of concern in those gray eyes.

Both of your sweaty hands met in an awkward hand shake, and then you pulled away.

“Happy Hunger Games,” the Capitol woman spoke into the microphone, “and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

Her words hung in the air for a split second and you thought about just running, but you couldn’t move. Your feet were glued to the floor.

Then you felt a hand on your back, sharp nails gently poking your skin, and you instinctively moved the direction you were being guided, leaving behind everybody else for what was bound to be a painful death.

They gave you a few minutes to say goodbye to your family, but you were mostly in shock and couldn’t say much. Your family wished you luck but that was about all they said. You’d hoped they would be upset that the Capitol somehow messed up on their reaping but they didn’t say anything about the topic.

Afterwards, you were sent to the train with the Capitol woman, who you soon learned was named Effie. She explained a few things and then left to find your mentor, Haymitch.

You slowly lowered yourself down into a seat by the window, your head pressing into the glass.

The door opened and Katniss stepped into the room. Her eyes were dark and her brow was still drawn, but she seemed more curious now. She too was in a haze of shock and fear, but your situation was enough to distract her.

“What.. did you do?” Katniss asked in a soft voice as she sat across from you. Her fingers fidgeted with the fabric of her dress.

You felt her gaze boring into you so you turned to look at her.

“I didn’t do anything.” You replied, voice even softer and a little shaky. “I-I didn’t.. I swear.”

Her eyes flicked up and down, scanning you as if she was still on the fence about the whole thing. When she finally seemed to accept that you were telling the truth, her gaze softened.

She said nothing else to you, but her eyes remained on you, a look of familiarity across her face.

Soon enough, Haymitch came into the room.

“Great job.” He told you, taking a swig from his bottle. “Screw with the Capitol, throw your name in there and make District 12 have two female tributes. You’ve fucked everything up for the both of you, do you know that?”

You gasped, eyes narrowing at his harsh words. “This wasn’t my fault!” You exclaimed. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you’re here now. Whether you did it on purpose or not, you’ve screwed up, badly.” Haymitch said. He didn’t exactly sound angry, he was too drunk for that, but you knew the intent of his tone. “You’ve put yourself and Katniss in jeopardy now.”

Katniss stiffened and stood up. “This isn’t y/n’s fault, it’s the Capitols fault.” She snapped at him.

“The Capitol makes no mistakes, that’s what they say.” Haymitch responded. He looked between you two and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if it's their fault. They will find a way to twist the blame onto you, and they will either love it, or make it their mission to destroy you.” His voice grew darker. “Prepare to accept that you won’t return home.”

Katniss bristled and opened her mouth to speak again, but Haymitch cut her off.

“I’m going back to the bar car. If Effie comes looking for me, tell her to leave me alone.” He said, and then left just as quickly as he came.

“He was helpful..” You mumbled quietly, sinking even further into your seat. Now you felt even worse. “I’m sorry, Katnis… I didn’t mean for this to happen, I don’t want to mess up your chances..” You buried your face into your hands and let out a shaky sigh.

The cushion beside you sunk a little. You peered between your fingers, noticing Katniss was now sitting there.

She gave you a soft look. “I know it’s not your fault.” She said, “Haymitch is just an angry, drunk guy. He might be mad at you, but I’m not.”

Finally letting your eyes meet hers, you let out a soft, shaky sigh. You fixed your posture. “You’re not?”

“No. I’m not.”

“Oh.” For the first time the whole day, you felt the tiniest smile prick at the edges of your lips. “Thank you.”

Katniss only nodded before leaving the train.

You didn’t see her much after that. Soon enough the Captiol and its looming towers of glass and steel came into view and you hopped off the train. It was… overwhelming, to say the least.

Effie brought you two to the penthouse you would be staying in and explained the basics of how things were going to work. You had the fanciest dinner you’d ever laid eyes on, and then were sent to your room to go to bed.

Sleep never came that easily to you.

And Katniss was apparently the same way.

You wandered out of your bedroom, bare feet padding softly on the cold tile floor. The edges of your cardigan tickled your neck and you pulled them closer. The air was crisp and made you shiver even underneath the warmth of your plush pajamas.

As you left and wandered into the kitchen in hopes of a snack, you noticed a figure on the couch. You stiffened and inhaled sharply, startled.

The figure seemed to notice you too and lifted their head off their knees.

“Y/n?” Katniss’s voice pierced the eerie but oddly comforting silence. “Is that you?”

Silently letting out a sigh of relief, you closed the fridge and nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.” You responded.

When your search through the fridge ended with you finding some leftover fruit from dinner, you grabbed the bowl and brought it over to the couch. Katniss had been sitting in the dark and you didn’t want to bother her even more than you already were with your company, so you left the light off.

You offered Katniss a few pieces of fruit from the bowl. You’d never seen fruit like this, much less heard of it. What the hell was a kiwi? It didn’t matter, it was delicious.

Katniss gingerly accepted a few pieces and looked down at her lap, then looked over at you.

“I heard Haymitch talking earlier to one of the game runners. Your reaping was an accident.” She said. It seemed like an attempt to comfort you, and even though you already knew, it did kind of help.

“They’re still going to make me fight though, right..?”

Katniss nodded solemnly. “I think so.”

With a heavy sigh, you laid your head against the back cushion of the couch and closed your eyes for a moment. When you opened them back up, Katniss was staring at you.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke softly, “That this happened to you.”

“Thank you.”

You looked over at her again, your eyes locking in the darkness. You hoped she could see the appreciation in your gaze just as easily as you saw the sympathy in hers.

“I’m sorry too.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “That your sister was reaped.. and that you’re here so she doesn’t have to be.”

Katniss’s soft expression darkened a little. She stayed silent for a moment and then spoke again. “I don’t expect to make it out of here alive. I’m doing this for Prim. I’d love to make it back to her and I’m going to try my hardest...”

You wanted to say something in response but by the time you figured out what to say, you already lost who you were going to say it to. Katniss got up and went back to her room without another word.

That’s how you found out Katniss was more focused on her sister than keen on staying alive. She’d already fulfilled her purpose by saving her sister. It might be a lost cause to think somehow that one of you would win the games but you knew Katniss had a much higher chance then you did if she just tried.

The next few days were a blur. You spent a lot of time training with the other tributes and honing your skills as best as you could. You weren’t exactly amazing with any specific weapon, but if the situation was right you found you could wield any kind of stick or sword and have a decent chance. The spear was your favorite though.

Then there was the day where you showed your talents off to receive a rating. You scored an 8, and Katniss scored an eleven.

That was the first time in a while that you’d seen a genuine smile spread across her face and it made your heart flutter. You hoped that you’d get to see her smile at least one more time before the games.

Finally, there were the interviews. You were dressed head to toe in a darker red gown, a complementary one to Katniss, but not a copy. And there wasn’t any fire. You were glad that the attention for once wouldn’t be on you and your tragic reaping, but on Katniss, the girl on fire.

Caesar Flickerman welcomed you onto the stage with a broad smile that you couldn’t quite read. You sat across from him in front of the crowd.

“So, y/n,” he began, holding the mic close and lowering his voice. “You were reaped by accident, in place of another male tribute. This is the first game in history with two female tributes from any district, and it’s because of you.” His voice wasn’t condescending but it wasn’t kind either, more curious than anything. “How did this affect you?”

You hesitated. “Well… it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.” You admitted in a soft tone into the microphone. “But at least I can spend my last few days with a friend.”

“Last few days, you don’t think you’re going to win?”

The Capitol crowd fell silent. You adjusted nervously in your seat.

“No, no, I uh… I’d like to win.” You stammered. “I don’t know how much of a chance I have, but I think I can envision myself with the crown.” Fake it till you make it. That was the phrase, right?

Caesar let out a laugh and nodded. “Mm, yes, I do think it would look nice on you.” He responded, studying you for a moment as a new question popped into mind. “Speaking of looks, do you have anybody special back home?”

You looked at him with a bashful smile. “No, I don’t.”

“You don’t? Oh, come on.” Caesar laughed again and shook his head in disbelief. “There has to be somebody out there. You’ve surely captured the hearts and sympathy of everyone in the Capitol, what about back in 12?”

You glanced over your shoulder, just barely making out the silhouettes of Effie, Haymitch and Katniss watching you.

The words slipped out before you had much of a chance to think; “There’s one person, actually. But… it would never work out.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s here with me.”

Shit.

The crowd fell silent once more.

Not only had you just revealed your feelings for your only friend on live tv, but you also just revealed something that made it even worse, that you liked a girl. You didn’t think the Capitol was very homophobic but you knew there were certainly some people out there… Not to mention you had no idea what Katniss would think.

Caesar stared at you, mouth slightly agape. Then he regained his composure and gave you a pat on the shoulder.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

You were ushered off the stage rather quickly after that. You barely made it into the hallway before somebody launched at you.

Katniss’s arm was against your throat, her face inches from yours and her eyes just as fiery as her dress.

“What was that?!” She exclaimed, glaring at you. If she was a cat she would’ve clawed your face off. “You go out there and admit you have a crush on me?! In front of everybody! You’ve jeopardized both of us even more!” She hissed in your face.

Haymitch pulled her off of you.

“You made me look weak!” Katniss snapped, fighting his restraint.

“She made you look desirable.” Haymitch responded dryly, letting go of Katniss once she calmed down. Then he turned to you. “That was a bold move. I can play the star crossed lovers from District 12, but I don’t know how much President Snow will approve of a relationship like this.”

“There is no relationship.” Katniss growled. She glared at you and then followed Cinna out of the room without another word.

You watched her leave and then looked up at Haymitch.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think that would put us both in danger. I wasn’t thinking, it just came out.” You stammered.

Haymitch sighed. “As did you.” He replied. “Be careful, y/n. The Capitol’s views on that are quite unstable. I’ll try to swing it to help you, but I can’t make any promises.”

You skipped dinner that night, having somebody bring it to your room to eat silently and alone. You could hear people talking outside your room but nobody ever came in.

Later that night, when you again couldn’t sleep, you went out for another small snack. You sat down beside the window on the cold floor. The city outside was huge and bright, cheers and applause echoing through the air. You just pressed your forehead into the glass and just looked out aimlessly.

Your isolation didn’t last much longer as soon another door cracked open and Katniss stepped out. She shivered a little and quietly walked over to where you were. Then she sat down across from you.

“I’m sorry I went after you. I didn’t hurt you… did I?” Katniss asked softly.

You shook your head, too embarrassed to meet her gaze. There had been a bruise across your throat earlier from her arm but it faded. “I meant that as a compliment.”

“I know.” Katniss let out a soft sigh of relief. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I just got upset.”

You shook your head and looked over at her. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just kind of…” you hesitated, finally meeting her eyes. That’s when you noticed that she didn’t actually believe anything you said earlier. You were saved. You quickly finished your sentence with a lie. “I thought it would work to.. make us more likable, I guess I kind of forgot that a lot of people may not like it.”

With a quiet chuckle, Katniss gave you a soft smile. “Haymitch says he thinks he can twist it in our favor.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you. Both of you looked out quietly at the city, just thinking.

Finally, you spoke. “I just–I don’t want them to change me.”

“The Capitol?”

“Yeah.”

Katniss pondered your words for a moment, deep in thought. Then she tilted her head. “Does that mean you won’t kill anybody?”

You responded with only a shrug. Killing another person wasn’t something you ever knew you’d want to do, but if it came down to life or death…

“I wish we actually met under better circumstances.” You changed the subject. “I think that maybe if we weren’t going to be put against each other's throats… we could’ve been friends.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not good at friends.” Katniss’s tone was quiet, almost sad.

You shrugged again. “Neither am I, but we’re still talking, aren’t we?”

The smallest hint of a smile flashed across her face. She opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it. “I guess you’re right.”

You smiled back at her.

The two of you sat there in silence once more for a long time. Eventually you both unanimously decided to go to bed.

“Wait.” Katniss said softly as the two of you reached the doors to your bedrooms. She stopped to think through what she was doing, and then she smiled softly at you again. “Thank you.”

You were going to ask what for, but you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. You assumed she was just thanking you broadly, and maybe for being the friend she never had. You smiled again in return.

“It was really nice talking to you, even if you were at my throat for a lot of it.”

Katniss chuckled and rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen in the arena… huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah.. I hope so.” Your eyes flicked to the clock, and then back to Katniss. “Goodnight Katniss.”

“Goodnight, y/n. Good luck.”

When you settled back down into your bed, you didn’t feel any more tired than you did before, but you felt more at ease. Tomorrow was going to be hell, and horrifying, but… at least you had something nice to think about while you tried to sleep.

Pt 2...

#katniss everdeen x reader #katniss everdeen x you #katniss everdeen x fem!reader #catching fire #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #the mockingjay #x reader

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aphroditestempleimagines · 6 months

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Getou

Words: 3527

Warnings: lots of angsty content, bit of rubbing/grinding, just some kissing, language

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. In your sorrow, you slept with his old, now criminal, friend Suguru Getou. That finally got Gojo to admit his love for you. But now that Getou had a taste of happiness he simply cannot let go.

Colour: Angsty with a lot of fluff

His love series - part 3

Author's note: he-hey, part 3! I don't know who reads my stupid shit but thank you, love you! Also i TRIED with this, let me know what you think.

"Getou-san", Mimiko said as she brushed Suguru's hair, "Who are these people?"

She was pointing at the polaroid Suguru held in his hand. It was from his last summer in jujutsu high school. He brushed his thumb over the fake smile he wore in the photo, "They're my friends", he said, "The only ones I ever had".

"But that is Satoru Gojo, isn't it?", Nanako interrupted, "Isn't he our enemy?"

Suguru shook his head. "We just had a fight, long ago", he said, "A fight so big that we haven't spoken ever since. But I still wish only for his happiness"

"And who is the girl?", Mimiko said again, "She's so pretty!"

Getou could not restrain his smile. "Yes", his eyes filled with love, "Yes she is". He brought the photograph closer closer. "Her name is y/n", he continued, "And she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen"

"She's not that pretty", Nanako pouted. Getou ruffled her hair as he laughed.

He continued staring at the photograph as if his gaze could somehow bring back the moment that was imprinted on the small piece of paper. After a while, Mimiko handed over a mirror to him. He smiled at the little braids she had woven with his black hair, and the little pink bow which adorned his top knot.

"My, you've done a wonderful job", he said, a comment which Mimiko was more than happy to hear.

As the day progressed and night approached, Suguru's soul became more and more unsettled. The girls had awoken those memories in him again, those memories that he had tried with all his might to forget.

He got off his bed, lazily tying his robe. He scrambled the papers on his desk as he looked for something to do. His eyes finally fell onto the report of a very popular department store. Something had reportedly drawn a special grade to it the day before, it was not unlikely that it was born on the spot by consuming a special grade cursed object like, for example, one of Sukuna's fingers.

He needed to have it in his possession. It would make him all the more stronger. And to do that he had to get to it before jujutsu sorcerers could.

He took off for Ginza in the middle of the light-infested night. He gazed at his dark reflection in the store windows; he had not bothered to put the rest of his outfit together, and now he walked wearing just his sandals and high-waisted robes. He entered the Western-style gallery of the department store. He kept his hands in combat mode, ready to strike. He was a special grade sorcerer, but he was facing an uncatalogued special grade spirit, of unknown power.

As he turned at another corner the sky above him darkened. He looked through the glass roof; the blue and pink afterglow of Tokyo's lights had disappeared, and the blackness of the veil covered every corner of the store. Sorcerers, Getou immediately knew. He had to find the spirit, and consume it.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"You said we were going on a date, Satoru", your eyes scolded your fiancé, "Not another mission"

"We are, love", he pulled you closer by the waist, "We're going to have dinner in Shibuya. We just need to take care of this, first"

"Fine but you're paying for the dinner", you scoffed.

"Was that the point of the conversation?", he asked.

You lightly clasped his jaw and turned him to face you. "They're paying you for this anyway, aren't they?", you raised an eyebrow at him.

He marched ahead to cut your path and leaned closer to match your height. "They're paying us, love", he smirked, "I need my support".

"Aha", you laughed as he wrapped his hands around you, showering you with kisses on every bare patch of skin he could find...or easily expose. "Pay attention", you smiled as you pushed him away, "it could be anywhere".

"It's not even a regular special grade", Satoru rolled his eyes, their faint glint barely visible under his blindfold, "It's probably just some weakling playing with powers it doesn't understand"

You escaped his embrace. You laughed as you galloped ahead. "Then you wouldn't mind if I beat you to exorcising it!", you smiled at him, "I might even collect the entirety of the reward for myself"

"Hey now!", he transported himself next to you, "It's still a special grade"

"I know, I will, I'm joking", you kissed his beautiful plumb lips, "I know how to analyze the situation. I just want you to be a bit more careful as well"

He kissed you again, his hand holding your nape. "I love it when you worry about me", he murmured against your lips.

"I always do"

He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead before he reluctantly waved you goodbye and took the turn for the east side of the mall. You took a left to the west, senses in alert.

A noise tickled your ear and then your surroundings changed. What used to be a hallway lined with shops now was a topsy turvy landscape of a city. 'Domain expansion?', you thought, 'No it's incomplete'. But there was no doubt that the cursed spirit was there.

A hand wrapped around your waist, another covered your mouth. You were pulled into a man's embrace, barhing in the shadows of an alley. You looked up. Your eyes grew wide. He removed his hand from your mouth and brought a finger to his lips, motioning you to keep silent.

"Suguru?", you whispered.

He gave you a soft smile. His eyes darted towards an upside-down building nearby. There it was; the special grade. It was examining what you surmised was one of Getou's weaker spirits from his collection.

He pulled your body flush against his. Before you could do anything else he extended his arm toward the special grade. The dangerous spirit slowly dissolved into thin air, its particles flowing to Getou's hand. They swirled into a hurricane above his palm until they concentrated into a small orb, the color of a Tiger's Eye gemstone. You stood once again amid the shopping gallery.

"No don't!", you cried as Suguru swallowed the special grade but you were too late; it was now his.

"Oh fuck", he coughed, "ugh, it only gets worse with time".

Your heart clenched. Your arms reached to help him but he pushed you away.

Silence governed the air between you. Getou leaned at the alley wall behind him as you gazed at his throat, where the curse had just disappeared. It was cruel how little he had changed in appearance over the years compared to how different his ideals had become. There was such a thin line between memory and illusion that it was so easy to get them mixed up, and see Getou for the man he was and not the things he had done ever since.

"Are you...okay?", he finally asked, "You look well"

The last time he had seen you your eyes were puffy and weighed by dark circles after crying for hours over Satoru. But ever since you heeded Suguru's advice and talked to him, things had improved; no, things were almost perfect.

"I am. I am well", you nodded, "I spoke to Satoru"

Suguru smiled. "Is that so?", his eyes were kindly hiding a mixture of happiness and sorrow, "Did he finally stop screwing around?"

"Well...he is Satoru", you laughed, "But...I don't feel alone anymore"

"That's good", his lip trembled but it was clear that he genuinely tried to appear happy.

Your awkwardness halted the conversation once more. What does one even say in situations such as this? You both tried to call each other's names; you laughed as your voices overlapped. You gestured Suguru to speak first. He pushed at the wall and walked closer to take your hands in his. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles, carefully tracing the small hills and valleys of your hand. You were not smiling anymore.

"Suguru come back", you said without thinking as he kissed your hand, "Come back home, to Jujutsu High"

He chuckled. "Wouldn't that be a laugh?", he said, "I'd be executed on the spot"

"Is that the only reason you won't come back?"

"Y/n..."

"Talk to Satoru"

"No", he shook his head.

"Satoru!", you cried.

Suguru's eyes shot open. You wrapped your arms around him as he tried to leave. You put on all your weight into keeping his massive body in place but he still managed to drag you.

"Let go", he said frantically.

"No. Satoru!"

"He can't see me here", he placed his hands on your shoulders, "You should both just go and be happy"

"Not when you're like this. SATORU!", you tripped him as he tried to peel you away.

He fell on his back, you on top of him. He blushed as your body rubbed over him. You heaved as you gazed down at his shocked expression. He studied your distressed face. He brought his palm to cup your cheek, wiping a single tear before it left your eye.

"I don't understand", he muttered.

"Y/N!", you heard Satoru's voice echo in the empty department store. A moment later he appeared next to you, his blindfold around his neck. He pulled you in his arms, his shocked blue eyes fixed on Suguru. "You okay?", he cupped your warm cheek when he finally turned back to you.

Getou lifted his body, putting his weight on his elbows. He fixed his dishevelled robes and hair before he stood to face his old friend. "You look like shit", he finally told Satoru.

Gojo scoffed. "You're the one to talk", he tightened his grip around you, "What are you doing here?"

"Let's just say I'm not getting paid this week", you joked.

"What?"

"I came for the special grade", Suguru dusted his clothes before directing his gaze at you, "But then someone would not let me leave".

Satoru looked at you. You diverted your eyes. "I can't bloody well let you get yourself killed"

"I'm doing this for our people!", Getou cried.

"If you think what you're doing is right then why did you leave in the first place?"

Suguru caught his breath. His teeth clenched and so did his fists. His eyes focused on the ground below his feet, too frightened of the truth to meet yours. "I'm trying to build a world where your smiles will be safe"

"That is not gonna happen like this", you yelled at him, "Curses won't disappear if humans do and as long as there are any I will hunt them because I BLOODY FEEL LIKE IT! So instead of acting like a delusional fascist with a hero complex who thinks murdering a bunch of innocent people to erase the actual assholes in this world, who by the way are not all human, how about you come the fuck back home and be HAPPY?"

Suguru let out a pained chuckle. "I can't. I can't wear a heartfelt smile around you anymore", he said, "And besides, I wouldn't even live long enough to try"

"Who's to say that?", Satoru pulled at your waist as you took a step forward.

Getou opened his mouth to speak. "Satoru..."

"Don't", Satoru shook his head. He breathed hard. He kissed your forehead, his fingers entwining with your hair. He let go of you and approached Suguru, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "You're a special-grade sorcerer of a whole different level. I'm pretty sure the only person they can employ to execute you is me"

"Satoru..."

"I won't do it", he said firmly, "Not unless you force me to". Satoru looked back at you before returning his gaze to Getou. "See I never placed much value in money", he began, "But there are other things I care about. My home. My students. My friends. My future with the woman I love. The man I used to call my best friend, who taught me how to care about all of the above"

Suguru startled. He raised his gaze as Satoru continued.

"If you threaten any one of these things then yes, I will kill you. For no other reason", he said, "If you ever cared about me, please don't bring me to that point"

"I-"

"Suguru", you called him, "Please. Stay"

"We chose this life", Satoru said, "I like to complain about it but the truth is I could disappear if I wanted to. Others have. Everyone chose this life, knowing its dangers. Humans are no more responsible for what happens to us than the people firefighters rescue from a building caught ablaze"

"I can't-I have to-"

"What do you want in your life?", Satoru placed his hands on Suguru's shoulders, bringing his gaze to meet his by force, "Do you actually wish to be loathed by me? By her?"

Something in the word "loathe" seemed to stir whatever free will had not been consumed by Suguru's dedication to his macabre goal.

"Would you actually enjoy a life where all you have is our hatred?", Satoru continued.

"That is the last thing I want...", tears swelled in Getou's eyes.

"Listen", Satoru's voice came strained, "I know you love y/n. And I hope you still at least consider me your friend-"

"That's exactly why-"

"You want us to smile?", your chuckle came pitiful, "How can any of us smile when you abandon us to play psycho killer?"

Getou laughed, tears of sorrow leaving his eyes. He placed one hand over Satoru's. He brought the other to cup your cheek. Without warning he pulled the two of you into his embrace. You could hear how he tirelessly tried to reign in his sobs as he hid his face behind your backs. You felt his fingers comb your hair.

"Are you making your own path or are you just running away?", Satoru said, "You are loved much more than you think"

Suguru cried on your shoulders. "You two are my world", he trembled, "You're my best, no, my only friends"

"Then come back", you hugged him tighter, "Please, just come back"

"Are you gonna say no to her Suguru? You saw how insistent she can be"

"Stop using her as an excuse you jackass"

The two of them chuckled. Getou took a deep breath before pulling away. He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his robe. Satoru threw his arm over your shoulders and walked you to the other side of the gallery. He turned back to Suguru to yell a "Don't leave" before pulling you into his embrace, his voice soft enough so not to be carried to Getou's ears.

"Do you love me?", he asked.

"Of course I do", you frowned.

"No, this is important", Satoru said firmly, "Do you love me for me or do you love me as a replacement for Suguru?"

"What are you talking about?", you whispered.

"Y/n I know you love Suguru, there's no doubt about that", his arms held you tighter, "And I know you have guessed how I feel about him too. So my mind right now is pretty clouded on my decision. But one thing I know is that this is a risk. If I ask him to come with us will you stop loving me?"

You cupped his cheeks, pulling him in for a deep kiss that seemed to last years. When you finally released his lips he was panting. You gazed deep into his beautiful blue eyes. "You're asking ME? If I will stop loving YOU?", your eyes teared up as you whispered. He covered your hands with his, his lips kissing your palm. "What about me?", you asked, "Am I-"

"No", Satoru held your face, his eyes drilling into yours, "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me".

He kissed your forehead. You pulled him into your arms, squeezing him as he wrapped his arms around you. He rested his cheek on your head as he combed your hair with his fingers.

"What do you want?", Satoru whispered, "Do you want one of us? Do you want both of us? I'll do anything just....please....don't leave me behind. Losing you will..."

His voice trailed away. It was obvious what he was going to say yet he did not allow himself to put it into words. You did not know whether that was out of his own pride or to spare you the guilt out of compassion.

"I wanna stay with you", you told him, "But my heart is not full when he's not with us. When he's suffering"

Satoru pulled you closer. "Yeah", he muttered, "I know the feeling".

He stepped back to peer at your face. You returned a nod. With that, he understood. He turned back and walked up to Getou.

"There's a ton of things I have been wanting to your tell sorry ass for years", Satoru crossed his arms in front of his chest, "But ...most of all is this; I've missed you".

His eyes were real and pleading, and Suguru's kind expression from his older days returned to his face. "Satoru..."

"Suguru", Gojo said, "Come back. It's us. We'll be fine"

"I slept with your fiance", Suguru scoffed as he looked away.

"I know"

"Aren't you mad?"

"I'm scared"

Suguru caught his breath. He turned his gaze back to Satoru; the man was not lying. His eyes flickered with fear as he clenched his fists at his sides.

"I had not realized", Satoru said, "how alone people feel around me"

"Satoru-"

"You had to knock me back to my senses even after years of being rid of me. I-", Satoru rubbed his eyes, "When she screamed at me after I realized you two...I'm always gone, I know that. I thought I was doing enough by just spending some time but that's not true"

Suguru chuckled. His gaze darted towards y/n. "Took you long enough, you idiot"

"Shut up", Gojo took a deep breath, "I did the same to you didn't I?"

Getou fell silent.

"So I did", Satoru took the lack of response as affirmation to his question, "You were in pain and I failed to see it. I'm sorry"

Suguru's strong arms wrapped around Satoru. "You shouldn't apologize", he told him, "I never blamed you for it". Gojo returned the embrace. "So what did you not want her to hear?", Getou asked.

"That day", began Satoru, "you said you wanted to become the strongest"

"I did"

"It's a curse", Satoru said determined, "A curse even I cannot exorcise"

Suguru pulled away. He followed Satoru's eyes back to you.

"I can't lose her", his voice deepened. He covered his eyes with his palms. "And yes, I've tried to hate you for trying to take her away but I can't do that either and my head is a mess". Satoru stayed silent for a moment that seemed to last an infinity. "She loves you", he finally raised his gaze. "Can't blame her, I love you too", he scoffed at himself.

Suguru smiled; it was peaceful, and happy and beautiful. "I see", he said sweetly, "You're both idiots, falling for a broken man"

"We're all broken in some way", said Satoru, "That's the fate of a jujutsu sorcerer. But, perhaps together the three of us can make a decent person"

Suguru laughed. "You really have no shame", he said before planting a kiss on his cheek. He grabbed his arm and dragged him to you. Suguru wrapped his arm around your waist and took your lips in his own. You were surprised but quickly melted into the sweetness of his kiss. He touched his forehead to yours, "Did the idiot ask you about keeping me around your house like a lover?"

"Y...yes", you blushed.

Getou kissed you again, nipping at your lower lip. "Greedy girl", he said before Satoru pulled you to his side.

"She's staying with me if you leave", you felt Satoru's hand cling at your waist for dear life.

"It was my fate to fall for two idiots, not one", Suguru responded softly.

You moved to stand at Satoru's other side so that you were nestled between the two men. Suguru placed a kiss on your forehead as you walked down the pathway to the exit. Next, he reached out and ruffled Satoru's hair. The other man tried to wave him away. Getou leaned and planted a kiss on his neck; to that, Satoru did not object. Suguru rested his hand on your shoulder, Satoru on your waist, and you lifted the veil to the outside world.

"However, I should say", Suguru took a deep breath of courage, "I am taking care of two orphaned girls. I am not going to leave them"

"How old are they?", asked Gojo

"Almost twelve"

"Oh that's about Megumi's age", you lit up.

"Megumi?", Suguru's brows furrowed.

Satoru let out a small chuckle. "Oh we are going to need some drinks for that talk", he said as he led the two of you to his car and his very confused (and scared) driver.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #satosugu #satosugu x reader

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

Text

The Silver Dragon (12/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 3527

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: With the knowledge that she will not soon be released from her father’s control, Arianwyn finds what comforts she can on Dragonstone, and receives a gift from Aemond.

Warnings: Mentions of rape.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99

The Girl in the Tower

The King was true to his word – the very same day Arianwyn received the message from Ser Gerold, another Raven arrived from the direction of King’s Landing. She watched with a soaring heart as the bird disappeared into the Ravenry from the window of her own tower. Over the past month, the cushioned ledge where she so often read had become her refuge. But now, she could return to her true sanctuary – the skies.

Her heart continued to race as she imagined the King’s words being read. But it was not only from her excitement at the prospect of finally seeing Emrys again. It now also came from the creeping fear of how her father would react to the command.

Though her skin nearly ached with the desire to don her riding leathers and run to her beloved dragon, Arianwyn stayed by the window. She could hardly focus on the words in front of her, her mind racing as she imagined what Daemon might do.

She was sure that he would burst through the door at any moment, eyes blazing with anger. He would scream at her, berate her. He would swear to make her life on Dragonstone as miserable as he could. He would insult her mother and perhaps even gloat at how he had killed her and escaped all punishment.

Arianwyn’s only consolation was that he could not hurt her. He knew the Vale was willing to go to war for her – he would not risk that. At least, she hoped he would not.

Her hands began to shake with fearful anticipation as she sat in her window. Long minutes passed, then hours, but still, Daemon did not come.

If only that soothed her fears – but she knew that the longer a dragon’s fire burned, the hotter it grew.

When the guards came to escort her to dinner, she wanted so badly to refuse them. But she had promised to be strong for Aemond and the memory of her mother. She would not hide.

So, clasping her hands behind her back to stop their trembling, she followed the armored men through the dark stone corridors to the dining hall. On Aemond’s advice, she had begun drawing maps of the immense castle so that she would not have to rely on Daemon and Rhaenyra’s servants to find her way around. While she did not bring a map with her to meals – she did not want to give her siblings such fodder to ridicule her – she now took greater care in observing the route they followed.

Arianwyn was fairly confident that, if she needed to flee the dinner that night, she could make it back to her rooms by herself.

The rest of her family – though she remained hesitant to use the word – was already seated when she arrived. After more than a month, she had become accustomed to the silence that descended on them whenever she appeared. But, at least the quiet did not last long anymore.

As soon as she took her seat, the family resumed their conversation. Arianwyn stayed silent, keeping her head down as she ate. While she never looked at him, she could feel Daemon’s eyes on her and his fiery rage. But she did not look back at him. If he was going to spew his anger at her, she would not let him do it with an audience.

At the end of the meal, when everyone else stood from the table, Daemon remained seated.

“I will join you in a moment, darling,” he said to Rhaenyra. “I need to have a chat with Arianwyn.”

Rhaenyra glanced at her eldest stepdaughter with an expression that Arianwyn could not decipher. Then, after a moment, the Princess looked back to her husband and nodded. As she swept out of the room, the other children followed, whispering amongst themselves. Baela turned back as the doors began to close, giving her half-sister a wicked grin.

Then Arianwyn was alone with her father.

Remaining where she stood, Arianwyn clung to the back of her chair to keep herself steady. Even now, she did not look to her father.

After several minutes of silence, he at last spoke. “Did you know I received a letter from my brother, the King, today?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes trained on the candles in the center of the table.

“Do you know what was in that letter?”

She took a deep breath before responding. “Ser Gerold wrote that – ”

“I did not ask what your bumbling fool of a cousin wrote to you,” Daemon snapped. Arianwyn’s head shot up at the insult to her beloved cousin.

At last, she saw the rage on his face. His cheeks were flushed as red as Caraxes’ scales, and his brows were tightly furrowed. Though she knew it was a sin, Arianwyn took pleasure in seeing him squirm under Viserys’ thumb. She would beg forgiveness from the Mother later. For now, she would enjoy this.

Daemon snarled, “I asked if you knew what my brother wrote to me.”

“I have some idea,” Arianwyn answered, suppressing a smile.

Her father sighed, leaning back in his chair. “You are to be granted access to your dragon. But not without limitation – so abandon any fantastical ideas about flying away.”

“When can I see him?” Arianwyn asked. It almost did not matter that she was still confined to the island so long as she could finally get out of the castle.

Daemon stood, stalking around the table until he was an arms-length away from her. But she was, at last, finding her confidence. She released her chair and turned to face him, chin held high. Her father looked disappointed as if he was looking forward to taunting a whimpering child.

But Arianwyn did not whimper, and she was no longer a child. She would not fear him.

“Your siblings train with their dragons three times a week,” he said, “you will join them.”

No longer able to keep the smile from her lips, Arianwyn dipped her head in a nod. But Daemon shot out his arm and seized her chin, roughly pulling her eyes to his face.

“If you so much as turn that dragon towards King’s Landing,” Daemon spat, “Caraxes and I shall tear him from the sky.” He smiled down at her with a vicious glint in his eye. “Then, we shall fly to Runestone and reduce that pathetic pile of stones to dust.”

With a final look of hatred, he released her chin and began to leave the room.

But though Arianwyn could not defend against the threat, she would not let him have the final word. “His name is Emrys,” she said.

Daemon froze. A heartbeat passed before he replied. “A common name of the First Men. Entirely unsuitable for a dragon.”

“He has a Valyrian name,” Arianwyn said, words leaving her mouth the moment the thought passed through her mind. “The people of King’s Landing call him Balerion, Second of his Name.”

Her father pursed his lips as he glared back at her with darkened eyes. But he did not reply. He only turned away and passed through the door.

Two days later, just past dawn, a guard in the black and red armor of Rhaenyra’s household arrived at Arianwyn’s room to escort her to Emrys. She had already been awake for hours and had dressed in her riding leathers.

This time, she did take her maps with her, and carefully marked the route out of the castle as they made their way through the winding tunnels. When they reached the large doors leading to the courtyard, she tucked the paper and her charcoal pencil into her armor. She still did not want to be mocked for her ignorance of her new home.

The four dragons were already in the courtyard, each held by their reins by two Dragonkeepers. But Arianwyn only cared about one. When he saw her, Emrys let out a joyous trill, and surged toward his rider so fast that he pulled the smaller of the two monks entirely off the ground.

Arianwyn laughed when he finally came to a stop, mere inches from her face. His breath warmed her in the cold air as he pushed his snout forward to examine her thoroughly. Finding nothing egregiously wrong, he brought his icy blue eyes to her face, narrowing them slightly as if to ask why she had abandoned him.

She placed her hand on his cheek, savoring the familiar feel of his smooth scales. “It was not my choice Emrys,” she told him in High Valyrian. “I am as much a prisoner here as you.” The dragon huffed in response, twisting his neck around her shoulders to push her toward his saddle.

A Dragonkeeper came to walk beside her as she approached Emrys’ side. “I am most gratified that you are finally to ride him,” he said, also in High Valyrian. “He has grown increasingly restless in your absence. We were beginning to fear that we would lose control of him.”

Arianwyn smiled at that. She knew Daemon had been lying in his note. “I am here now,” she assured the Dragonkeeper, “and I will never leave him for so long again.” Emrys let out a triumphant roar at her words, and Arianwyn had to suppress her laughter when she saw her siblings flinch at the sound.

Though only a few years older, Emrys was nearly twice as large as Vermax, and larger still than Moondancer and Arrax. Even with their riders whispering calming words in their ears, the younger dragons shuffled nervously as they assessed the daunting new addition to their ranks.

Once all the riders were mounted, the most senior of Rhaenyra’s Dragonkeepers began to give his pupils their instruction for the day. Arianwyn barely heard him; she was more concerned with sizing up her siblings and their mounts.

Baela was the most at home on dragonback; she listened intently to the Dragonkeepers words and never turned her eyes to Arianwyn once. Jace tried to project a similar confidence, but he too often had to turn away from their instructor to quiet his restless mount. Both he and his brother, who had given up on trying to keep Arrax still, often glanced at their new sister.

Jace looked at her with almost the same expression as Daemon – a look of disgust and annoyance, though there was a tinge of fear in his brown eyes. She may have posed no threat to him in the tunnel at Driftmark, but the same could not be said when she was astride Emrys. That fact seemed to consume Luke, who looked as though he expected her to attack them at any moment.

She had no desire to do so. The boy owed a debt, but it was not hers to settle.

The second the Dragonkeeper ended his speech, Arianwyn seized her reigns. “Sōvēs!” she shouted, and after a month confined to the ground, finally returned to the skies.

While the flight had been glorious, it was not as long as Arianwyn wanted. At the sound of the Dragonkeepers horn, she reluctantly guided Emrys back to the island. Though he groaned in protest, he obeyed. When they had been far from the other dragons, Arianwyn had told him of Daemon’s threats, and he seemed to understand.

After dismounting, Arianwyn pressed her forehead to her dragon’s side, whispering her promises to return to him soon. Watching him being led back to the hill in the distance nearly broke her heart, but a shy voice soon claimed her attention.

“Maester Gerardys says you will not scar,” Rhaena said, sitting on the courtyard steps.

Arianwyn felt an icy rage return to her chest as she remembered how ferociously her half-sister had clawed through her skin. “I am sorry to disappoint you, sister.”

Rhaena stood, wiping her hands on her skirts. “You misunderstand me,” she said, “I am glad of it. I hated seeing what I did to you every day.”

That, Arianwyn had not expected. It was not quite an apology, but it was more kindness and compassion than she had received from any of her other siblings. She did know how to react.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Rhaena continued, “your egg hatched. But to be a Targaryen without a dragon is a desperate thing.”

“I understand more than you know,” Arianwyn replied. She had been by Aemond’s side for years as he had grown more and more desperate. His pain enhanced by the cruelty of his brother and nephews.

Rhaena sighed, regathering her composure. “Vhagar was my mother’s dragon. I thought that by claiming her, I could keep a small part of her with me. But then Aemond st…” she cut off her words, glancing at the hard look in her sister’s grey eyes. How many times had she been told that a dragon could not be stolen?

Clearing her throat, she continued. “He claimed her before I could. That was bad enough, but then he made that joke about a pig, and I – ”

“Do you know why he said that?” Arianwyn asked, interrupting the carefully rehearsed speech. “Why he said ‘pig’ specifically?”

Rhaena shook her head.

“I’m surprised our new brothers did not tell you. They were certainly proud of it.” Arianwyn’s blood raced as she recalled the cruel prank. “Aemond was without a dragon for longer than you have been. And Aegon, Jace, and Luke never let him forget it. On the contrary, they taunted him endlessly, making his suffering ever worse than yours.

“Several months ago, they played their cruelest joke of all. They told him they had found him a dragon, and presented him with a pig. They had even made it wings of straw.” Arianwyn was pleased to see Rhaena’s horror as she spoke. “That drove him to such desperation, as you call it, that he was nearly killed trying to claim the most volatile dragon in the Dragonpit. None of them ever apologized for it, or even asked if he was all right.”

Rhaena had turned away from her sister, staring at the ground in shock and shame. Arianwyn stepped toward her, forcing the girl’s attention back on her. “That is why he said what he did.”

When Rhaena did not respond, Arianwyn left her on the steps of the courtyard and stormed back to her tower.

Brynna Taler arrived on Dragonstone only days later, along with the rest of Arianwyn’s Valish attendants. It was no surprise that only Arianwyn herself came to the dock to receive them. What was surprising was the ferocity with which the young Lady of Runestone embraced her favorite lady’s maid.

Laughing, Brynna stroked the girl’s silver hair. “It has only been a month since we’ve seen each other, my Lady.”

“It has seemed so much longer,” Arianwyn sighed as she held firm in the embrace. “And I have been so alone.”

“No more, my Lady,” Brynna whispered. “No more.”

Arianwyn, so relieved to again have a friendly presence, did not release Brynna’s hand until they were at last in her rooms at the top of the tower. The lady’s maid looked cautiously around each corner of the apartments, as if she were expecting a monster in every shadow.

When she was satisfied that the rooms were safe, she immediately began issuing commands to Arianwyn’s other attendants. Soon, they were all scurrying about the tower to bring it up to Brynna’s standards.

Arianwyn sat in her window, comforted by the sight of so many familiar faces. If she ignored the unnerving smooth stone of the castle walls and the brine in the air, she could almost imagine she was back in her quarters at the Red Keep.

“If you would stand for a moment, my Lady.” Brynna’s voice broke her from her daydream. The tall, black-haired woman stood above her, two overstuffed cushions in her hands. “You will catch a chill sitting on that stone, and I won’t have that,” she explained.

Smiling at once more being doted upon, Arianwyn complied. When she sat back down at the now well-cushioned window, Brynna joined her.

“Now I am going to ask you a question, and I need the absolute truth,” Brynna said. “Both Lady Arryn and Ser Gerold have ordered me to send them your answer by raven.”

Arianwyn nodded, “Of course.”

The lady’s maid grimaced, at once desperate for an answer and afraid of what it may be. “Has Prince Daemon hurt you?”

Though the memory of her father’s fierce grip on her chin was still fresh, Arianwyn had no desire to start a war. Especially not over an incident where she considered herself the victor. “No,” she replied, “he hasn’t.”

For a moment, Brynna looked as though she might faint with relief. “Thank all the gods for that.” She pressed a kiss to her Lady’s forehead, then slipped away to send her messages.

When she returned, Arianwyn was questioned on all matters of her life at Dragonstone. Was the food to her liking? Had she been dressed appropriately for the island’s chilly climate? Were her studies progressing well without Orwyle? Were her siblings treating her well? Had she been able to ride Emrys as the King commanded?

By the end, it seemed as though Brynna had plans to berate nearly everyone on the island, from the Septa and the cook in the castle to the laundresses and dockworkers in the village. She had looked after her Lady all her life – she would not let their confinement on this island cause her to slip in her duties.

After several hours of questions and answers, Arianwyn’s eyes began to drift closed.

“Before you retire to bed, dear girl,” Brynna said, nudging her shoulders to keep her awake. “I have a gift for you.”

Immediately awake with excitement, Arianwyn watched the woman walk to one of the trunks that had arrived with her. After rifling through the contents, she pulled out a single book. It was freshly bound; the leather was supple, and the bronze gilt lettering gleamed.

“We were not able to bring as many books as I know you would have liked,” Brynna held out to the tome for her Lady to see. “But Prince Aemond insisted that you must have this one.”

Arianwyn gazed in awe at the beautiful tome.

On the Meanings and Uses of the Runes of the First Men

By The Lady of Runestone, Arianwyn Targaryen

She could not keep the tears from her eyes as she turned through the pages, reading her own words and seeing her own drawings. Then, smiling, she looked to Brynna, “How did he do this?”

“When he heard Ser Gerold asked for a copy of your work, he insisted Orwyle make one for you first. He had all the Maesters in the Keep working day and night to ensure it would be ready when we set sail.”

Arianwyn smiled, imagining Aemond in front of all those old men, sternly giving them precise directions. But the smile faded when she realized that the next time she saw him – if she ever did again– he would not look the way he still did in her memory.

His eye was gone. And his wound would undoubtedly scar.

But even when he was so wounded and facing the grim reality that his father had not defended him, Aemond had taken the time to make something so beautiful – for her.

“I have to find a way to thank him.”

The idea came to her nearly five months later as she read one of Aemond’s letters. He had kept his promise – a raven arrived from him every day.

He kept Arianwyn well-appraised of his progress, both as a dragonrider and in his healing. Now, he told her how Orwyle had decided that once the wound had fully healed, Aemond would require something to take the place of his eye. According to the Maester, it would assist his balance and prevent further damage to the eye socket.

An image came to her then. She had mourned the loss of his beautiful periwinkle eye, but now there was the opportunity for something even more beautiful.

Over the next several days, she focused all her efforts on the gift. She spent hours in her window, carefully embroidering a pattern of Runes.

Strength. Bravery. Wisdom. Protection. Love. She wove them all together in her circular design, praying as she worked that they would grant him each and every boon.

When she finished, she wrapped the small silk cloth in paper and sealed it in an envelope with a note. When she brought it to Gerardys, he was surprised that she wanted it sent not to King’s Landing but to Runestone.

“If I send it to King’s Landing, Aemond would no doubt hear what I’ve asked for,” she explained. “I want this to be a surprise.”

As soon as the Maester accepted her request, Arianwyn ran across the castle to her tower. Settling herself among the many pillows and furs that now adorned her window, she watched with unbridled excitement as the dark bird flew north to Runestone.

Next Chapter

#aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #ewan mitchell

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