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#dragon's pov as promised
bigskyandthecoldgun · 6 months
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based on this
steve's pov | dragon's pov
Her Dad has always been very lonely.
Even from when he’d found her in that horrible, dirty bush back when she’d been but a kitten, the bright, comforting smile on his face had been tinged with a sort of sadness so deep it made her mewl with sympathy, digging her scraggly little paws into his shirt as he’d picked her up, using the last of her strength to nuzzle into his chest. Dad had stayed sad in the strange, clean room with the person in the white coat as they had explained something to him, casting glances down at her as she’d struggled to hold herself up on shaky legs on the metal surface they’d placed her on.
Her fur had been cleaned, she’d been poked at and prodded and felt a whole lot better, and when Dad had taken her into the big house and placed her gently on the bed, telling her tales about someone named Nancy and her wit and her pretty face, and someone named Jonathan and his ability to keep up with the Nancy and make her happy, and how Dad was glad to have someone to talk to about all of it, that smile was back. The sad one. She hadn’t been given a name yet, but her Dad had given her care she hadn’t ever known, food and medicine and affection, and she loved him for it.
The Nancy and the Jonathan, whoever they are, are determinedly not loved by her, she’d decided that night, curled up on her Dad's chest as sleep overtook her.
The day after, the small boy, who she affectionately calls Curly in the privacy of her own mind while Dad calls him the Dustin, comes over and gets far too close to her. She panics and swats at his nose—claws sheathed, because he is smaller than Dad, and he isn’t the Nancy or the Jonathan—and he shrieks, a delighted smile on his face that isn’t tinged with loneliness like her Dad's. She hisses at him from the comfort of Dad's shoulder, a little raspy, and Curly makes a face.
“Her breath should be considered a weapon,” he tells Dad, and then a look of even more delight crosses Curly’s face. “Oh! You should name her Dragon! Fierce little monster with a breath weapon, it makes so much sense, Steve!”
Curly goes on rambling until Dad finally cuts him off. “Okay! Fine, her name’s Dragon,” he relents. “Happy?”
Dragon is okay with that name, if only because Dad's smile is not as sad when he tries to hide it from Curly as the boy whoops.
She grows big and strong, broad and intimidating, and Dad tells her every day how soft and shiny her fur is, how she’s such a sweet girl, how he thinks it’s funny when she roars at trespassers in their home. And, of course, the trespassers are many in number and often come into their home with little protesting from Dad, much to Dragon’s dismay. She loves her Dad and only her Dad. She likes the rest well enough, sure, but Dad is special.
Dragon spends the majority of her time practically attached to Dad. He gives her many pets and lets her sit atop his shoulders or his chest or his lap, always ready to guard him from the hands of other people. Dad is her human, not theirs. Even as they try to win her favor with treats and pets, Dragon turns her nose up at them with a hiss, her hackles raised. She needs not the fleeting affections of the smaller humans, or even the Nancy or the Jonathan, who she meets for the first time when they show up on her Dad's doorstep, telling him how they’re here to take the smaller ones away.
“Hi, Steve,” the girl says, and Dragon clambers her way up to her Dad's shoulders, making herself as large and imposing as possible. “Jonathan and I are here to take the boys home.”
Her Dad radiates sadness. Loneliness. The girl must be the Nancy.
“Aw, who’s this?” the boy—he must be the Jonathan—asks, reaching up towards Dragon, which is a definite no-no. He needs to learn. Dragon hisses in warning before swatting his hand, claws out, because Dad smells so dreadfully of loneliness that it makes Dragon’s heart ache. The Jonathan draws his hand back with a wince. Dragon purrs. “Ow.”
“Shit, sorry, I should’ve warned you,” Dad says, and Dragon feels indignant at the fact the Nancy and the Jonathan have made him feel as though he needs to apologize. “Dragon’s not exactly friendly.”
Dragon begs to differ. She’s plenty cordial with the children. She doesn’t even take her claws out to swat their hands away when they try to pet her. Petting her is Dad's job, not theirs. “That’s okay,” the Nancy says. She looks at Dragon and smiles. Dragon’s ears flatten against her head as she hisses again, and the Nancy’s smile falters. “Uh, sorry, Dragon. Are they ready to go?”
She aims the question at Dad, who nods and steps aside to let the parade of small ones out of the house. “See you guys around,” Dad says as he shuts the door, and he scoops Dragon from his shoulders, holding her out and up at arms’ length as he clicks his tongue and shakes his head fondly. “What am I gonna do with you?”
Dragon mewls. You’re welcome, Dad.
“Yeah, yeah, you don’t like people, I get it,” Dad sighs, tucking her against his chest.
She nuzzles at his jaw and meows again. I like people well enough. I just don’t like the Nancy and the Jonathan. They make you smile bad.
“I’m really the only person you can handle, huh?” Dad muses, scratching behind Dragon’s ears in the best of ways. Dragon purrs, making biscuits against his shoulder. “Little beast. Tiny baby creature. You’re the best.”
Dragon is neither tiny nor a baby anymore, but Dad seems intent on calling her his baby, which she doesn’t mind. She gives him a quiet mrrp and nudges him again. Make friends that make you smile good.
“You’re gonna have to learn how to deal with people sooner or later, Draggy. I think I wanna start dating again,” her Dad says.
She comes to learn that ‘dating’ means bringing strangers into their house and closing the door to the den. Dragon makes her protests very known, yowling and scratching at the door when strange noises start up behind it, hissing and swatting and biting at the strangers when they get too close to her, and getting between Dad and the trespassers at every opportunity. None of the strangers make his smile any less lonely. If anything, they only serve to make it worse, and none of them seem to realize it.
The only person that Dragon comes to really like is the Robin, who she likes to call Dots, because of all the little dots on her face. Dots never tries to push her into letting her pet her, keeps her hands to herself with Dad, and makes Dad's smile a lot less lonely. “She’s so sweet,” Dots says one day as Dragon sprawls herself out on Dad's lap, belly exposed for him to rub at with his blunt nails, just the way she likes. “Do you think she’d let me pet her?”
“Dragon doesn’t really let people pet her,” Dad says, and Dragon lets out a little mew of agreement. For some reason, it makes Dots and Dad laugh. “I mean, you can try, but it’s kind of a miracle she tolerates you enough to let you sit next to me.”
“I don’t wanna bother her,” Dots says, and Dragon promptly decides that she’s her favorite of all the strange people her Dad brings to the house.
Human litters are strange, Dragon has discovered. She can only assume that the humans, too stupid to name themselves, have roles that correspond to the strange words they call themselves, the same across the board. Each litter must have the Steve—her Dad's title among the group—who clearly leads the rest of them, the Dustin, who is the Steve’s apprentice, the Erica, who is second in command, the Mike, who is in charge of scowling, the Lucas, who is the Max’s companion and the one in charge of games with orange balls, the Max, who is the Lucas’ companion and the one who makes funny comments, the Will, who is in charge of breaking up arguments, and the El, who is the superhero. The Robin, of course, is in charge of being the Steve’s best friend. The Jonathan and the Nancy are still of little concern to Dragon, but she has determined they are in charge of moving the children in and out of the house. Again, totally unimportant.
The El and the Will don’t come around much anymore, and Dad says that this is because they are in California. Dragon doesn’t know what California is, but it’s a long word, which she usually only hears in reference to sicknesses. Dragon hopes the El and the Will get better soon. The Jonathan has also stopped coming around, and it’s curious that this development seems to make the Nancy’s smile just a bit like Dad's now.
Dragon had been entirely unaware that a human litter needs an Eddie until one comes barreling in one afternoon in the cold months, throwing his things unceremoniously onto the couch in the TV room and shouting Dad's title into the house. Dad is not home yet. He is off with Dots at what he calls ‘work.’ Dragon postures herself as big and scary as possible, ears flat against her head as the tall man with dark hair and clothes and dangly metal walks down the hallway, towards the kitchen. And—the audacity astounds her—he starts poking around in the cabinets, making himself a meal! How rude!
Dragon yowls, low and throaty, posted up in the doorway to corner him. “Oh, shit, Steve has a cat?” the man asks, crouching down but making no move to coax her closer. “Hey, buddy, what’s your name?”
Dragon blinks at him and meows. You’re a stranger in my home. Why would I tell you?
“Ah. Mrawr. Lovely name,” the man says, nodding. He purses his lips and an airy noise comes from him, kind of like that metal thing Dad uses on the stove every now and then. “You are huge. Not that that’s a bad thing. You’re very pretty.”
Preening a little, Dragon lets out a little mrrp of gratitude. Yes, I’m very pretty. My Dad takes such good care of me. Now, go away.
The door opens again. Aha! Finally, Dad is home, and they will be rid of this intruder, the stranger who hadn’t been told about Dragon, so he must be lost, he must be looking for a different human litter’s Steve. He isn’t scowling, so he must not be a Mike or a Max. His hair is curly, so perhaps he’s a Dustin? He is looking for a Steve, after all. Or perhaps he is a Robin, by that logic.
“Eddie! Hey! What’s up, man?” Dad asks, and—
Oh, his smile is so bright and finally free of the loneliness that plagues it.
Dragon has only ever seen him smile like that once before, when Dots and Curly had been at the house, the three of them playing some kind of game with the Erica. She needs to keep that version of Dad's smile around. It’s the best one, and far too rare. The rest of Dad's litter smiles like that all the time, and it wouldn’t do if Dad continues to only show that wonderful smile on special occasions. She dutifully steps aside as Dad moves into the kitchen.
This Eddie is the key, Dragon realizes. The key to making her Dad not so lonely anymore.
Dad and the Eddie embrace. Dragon has never seen Dad as relaxed as he is in the Eddie’s hold, save for when he’s asleep and Dragon is guarding his slumbering form. “Good to see you, dude,” the Eddie says. “You got any coffee?”
“You and your coffee,” Dad says, shaking his head as he pulls back, going all around the kitchen in a routine Dragon’s only seen in the mornings.
As her Dad and the Eddie—Dragon decides to call him Ink after one of Dad's comments about the strange black shapes on the Eddie’s arms—talk idly and sip at their coffees, Dragon observes. Dad has never seemed so at ease, so happy. There isn’t a trace of the loneliness anymore, not a single sad crease in his forehead. Ink even makes him laugh. So much, too! And Dad looks at Ink like he’d looked at the Nancy that first time she’d showed up on their doorstep. Wanting. Wistful.
Dragon makes a decision.
She will make sure Ink and Dad are never separated. She will convince Ink to spend more time with her Dad. She will keep her Dad happy. Her Dad will never be lonely again, not if Dragon has anything to say about it.
After a while of talking, Ink nods down at her. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool your cat is,” he says. Dragon takes that as her cue to get up on her Dad's shoulders. She shudders at the prospect, but if she lets Ink pet her the next time he tries, surely Dad will realize that he must stay with them. She gives her Dad a reassuring purr and nudges his cheek with her face, and Ink smiles. “Dragon. A fitting name for a majestic beast.”
“I don’t know why she’s so unfriendly,” Dad sighs, reaching up to scratch behind Dragon’s fluffy ears. Dragon purrs even harder. When Ink makes a strange noise and reaches up to join her Dad in scritching behind Dragon’s ears, her Dad takes a step back. No! That’s not the plan! “Woah, careful, man, don’t want you to get clawed.”
The big smile on Ink’s face gets smaller, but somehow feels more private. “Cats don’t really like me, anyway, I don’t mind a little scratch or two,” he says, stepping closer to offer his hand up for Dragon to sniff.
Dragon doesn’t even need to sniff him, though he smells strongly of outdoors. He’ll smell enough like Dad sooner or later. She just pushes her face against his knuckles. Pet me, you imbecile. Show Dad how you will love us.
She even keeps purring to drive the point home. “Holy shit, she doesn’t do that with anybody,” Dad says. Yes! He’s getting it!
They continue their conversation, and Dragon feels herself getting shifted into her Dad's arms, so she nuzzles against him. Dad is talking about things that don’t interest her, strangers and the like, so she meows pointedly and licks his face. Tell the Eddie he needs to stay. We don’t have one yet.
Finally, the conversation points to her in a favorable way. “Well, maybe you just have to find somebody she likes,” Ink says, scratching under her chin. She meows again and squints, tilting her chin up. She’s really going all out here. Dad better get her point. Ink makes a strange sort of sound. “Aw, see? She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll have a soft spot for someone other than yourself soon enough.”
“Draggy,” Dad coos in his play-voice, “will you please let Daddy get laid? Be all sweet and good instead of biting people’s ankles?”
Dragon doesn’t know what any of that means, but it clearly makes Ink horrified enough to drag the conversation elsewhere, which, again—annoying. Neither of them are getting her point, not even when Dad shifts her so that her tummy’s facing up and she lets Ink give her belly rubs. Belly rubs! Those are not given lightly, and Dad must realize it, because Ink comes over a lot more often after that.
She always makes sure Ink and Dad are sitting together, lets Ink pet her—and, admittedly, he’s pretty good at it—and watches to make sure Dad's smile never turns lonely. And it doesn’t, not with Ink around. Dragon changes nothing about how she interacts with other people, but she gets clingy to the Eddie, trying to show her Dad that he should be, too. Dad even lets the Eddie into the den, lets him lay on the pillows beside him as they talk and talk about things that Dragon doesn’t understand and doesn’t particularly care to.
But Ink is not close enough. On one memorable occasion, Dragon even paws at his arm until he gets the hint to scoot closer, and she thinks that if her Dad could purr, he would. Dad doesn’t get the hint, though, even still, because even though Dragon is pretty sure the Eddie of the human litter is supposed to provide love to the Steve, Dad doesn’t seem to realize he can. Dragon even lets Dots get in a scratch to her chin, just to show Dad that if even she can let other people in, so can he.
“You are killing me, you little menace,” Dad tells her one night when Ink isn’t in the room, but he’s still in the house. “Why do you like Eddie so much, huh? I mean, sure, he’s funny and he’s nice, but it’s not like you can understand what he says, you don’t speak English.”
Dragon meows indignantly at him from where she sits on his lap. I understand enough to know that this Eddie is the Eddie you should keep.
“Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Eddie is pretty great,” her Dad mutters.
Dragon yawns, because the little song and dance her Dad is doing about his silly feelings is exhausting, and starts making biscuits on his thighs, then purrs. He is. And you deserve that. You should not be lonely, and he makes you un-lonely.
“Okay, so he’s handsome, too, but I don’t see how that’s appealing for you, you’re a cat,” Dad huffs. Dragon watches him pause, then his face goes all pink, and he looks funny. “Well, that’s—it doesn’t appeal to me, either, I guess.”
Dragon gives him an inquisitive little mrrowp? in response. What does handsome mean? You should let him give you whatever pets for humans are.
Her Dad makes air push out of his mouth for a while. “Look, Draggy, you gotta find someone else you like. Eddie can’t be the only other person you can tolerate, it’s just not realistic,” he tells her. Rude. She tolerates everybody.
Dragon roars. The Eddie loves you, so I love him. What’s so hard to understand about this? You love him, too, if you would stop being obtuse about it.
Dad has the audacity to shush her, even if he does give her some pets. “Yeah, I know, and I like having him around, too—”
“Talking to your cat about me, Stevie?” Ink asks.
Dragon makes a whole big show of letting Ink give her tummy rubs, keeping her eyes on Dad the whole time. See? You could have this, too. Just be brave. But, unfortunately, Dad doesn’t get the hint, because while he puts Ink in clothes scented by him, Ink sleeps in one of the dens for guests rather than in Dad's den. Fine. If Dad won’t get the message, maybe his Eddie will.
She sits outside of the door to the guest den Ink sleeps in and yowls and cries until he comes out to pick her up and put her on Dad's bed. “Please tell your daughter to stop screaming at me,” he says, and Dragon gets dragged into her Dad's lap. The Eddie turns to leave, which is outrageous! All of that work, for what? Dragon lets out an indignant cry, and Ink turns back around. “Oh my God, what?!”
Dragon gives him a little chirp and trots to the edge of the bed, nosing at his hand. Sleep in here, Dad is so lonely when he sleeps.
“Draggy, let Eddie go to bed,” Dad protests. Dragon resists the temptation to tell him to stay out of it, because he is still her Dad and must be respected.
“Yes, Dragon, I need my beauty sleep,” Ink tells her, which is further infuriating, because Dad already thinks he’s pretty! He stares at Ink all the time! When the Eddie turns to leave again, Dragon yowls again and takes his hand into her mouth to try and drag him towards Dad. Ink looks to Dad, probably for guidance. The Steve is the leader, after all. “Does she want me to stay here?”
They exchange more words, which is a terrible bore, but Ink clambers into the bed, so Dragon is triumphant. They’re not close enough, though, not as close as the humans on the TV that make Dad sigh wistfully, so Dragon pushes against Ink’s back and doesn’t stop pushing until he scoots a little closer. Still, it’s not enough.
“She keeps pushing at my back,” the Eddie says. “Why is your cat so strong, dude?”
Dragon is so busy being pleased at the comment that she nearly misses what her Dad says in response. “I can take her out of the—”
She lets out a panicked screech, as loud as she can. No! You’ll never do this on your own! I have to help, so I have to be here until you figure it out!
Neither of them make any further threats to remove her, so she just keeps idly nudging at Ink’s back. After so much chatter, really, humans have got to be more direct with each other, the Eddie takes initiative, leaning close to her Dad's face. Finally, finally, they look the way the humans on TV do, and Dragon quietly makes her way off of the bed as the strange noises that usually mean she gets locked out of the room begin, meowing when there’s a pause.
I will stay out of your way, Ink. Please make him happy.
Dragon heads down the hall and curls up on the bed of the guest den, too tired from her matchmaking efforts to be kept up by the increase of noises from the room next door.
To be given her proper credit the next morning, she politely snatches up one of the shirts on the floor—the one that smells like Dad but the one Ink had been wearing—and waits for her Dad to see her up on the bed before swishing her tail smugly. When Ink sees, he cackles. Dragon can tell that he will live up to his title. The Eddie will make the Steve happy, just as he’s meant to.
Honestly, Dad should listen to her more often. Dragon has very good ideas.
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dragonologist-phd · 2 years
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 It begins with a blade to the throat.
In which Zevran fails to assassinate a target, Alistair fails to eliminate a threat, and they both have to figure out where to go from there.
For the @zevraholics ZevWarden Prompts “death” and “promise”!
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crazywolf828 · 2 years
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Damn so does this mean you can't write dragon fucking fic until you find and have fun with a dragon?
And that means I also can't draw this... Guess we have to search for a dragon now
Aw fuck you're right! Anon, look at what you've done. Now we can't write/draw the dragon fucking fic until after I get railed by a dragon too 😭
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coeurify · 1 year
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THE PERFECT PAIR 2;
ELLIE WILLIAMS
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·˚ ༘ * “But don’t think we could help it, no"
pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader. part one. summary: part TWO! you forgot to answer ellie, shes upset. you make up for it with a party, what could go wrong! wc 6.9k warnings: ig you could say slightly toxic friendship. ellies jealous. blink and you miss it jealous reader. almost.. sorta.. kinda kiss.. slight angst slight fluff.
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You dreamt of the past a lot. Ever since you were little, more often than not, your dreams were much different than the other kids around you. When they spoke about their dreams of dragons and kings, you could only pipe in with the nostalgic nighttime story of your most recent favorite memory that played like a film reel while you slept.
Tonight, you dreamt of Ellie. You dreamt of your noses pressed to the glass of your parent’s car window, heads tucked side by side as you pulled up to a building. Large bulky letters read out the museum's name on a sign in the blue sky. The sky was always more blue in your dreams.
You had been twelve— just turning Thirteen, mere months into meeting. Ellie’s hair was always pulled back into a ponytail back then, strands of deep reddish brown hair peeking out of the hair elastics. Even now, with the muddy and watercolor-like painting of your dream, you could count the freckles on dream Ellie’s cheeks. It was your birthday, and you had been carted with Ellie to the museum near your house. A promise of a day full of Ellie laughing and tugging you around to explain the space section to you ensued.
You dreamt of Ellie’s slightly sweaty palm intertwined with your own as she pulled you around the crowded floors, gasping as she swore under her breath at every exciting exhibit. You would hush her each time, hitting her arm— just like you still did today.
You dreamt of your favorite exhibit. The one that made you love the stars so much. You had entered a dark room, only you and Ellie. Her voice was hushed as she pointed out different star patterns painted in glowing colors on the wall. That was the moment you knew you wanted Ellie to be your best friend.
You dreamt of the green Dinosaur plush Ellie had paid for with crumbled-up money in the back pocket of her jeans at the gift shop. The one she had shoved into your arms and exclaimed, “Happy Birthday!”
When you woke up, your face was pressed into that exact stuffed animal. Though the once soft fur was a bit rough now, almost seven years older, it was still more comfortable than the pillows below your head. It still held that sense of nostalgia you laid to rest every night that other options didn’t.
Your eyes squeeze before they open, arms reaching to pull the dinosaur against your chest instead. You imagine it’s just as new as it had been the day Ellie got it for you. You imagine the sky is as blue as it was in your dream, that you and El were still those carefree pre-teens. But then your alarm goes off.
Fucking Mondays. Blinking a few times to adjust to the light pouring into your eyes, you reach blindly for your phone. Fingers wrap around it a moment later, the bright screen causing another wave of blurriness to your sleepy eyes. Even through the patchy vision, it's clear that you have a few notifications.
From Ellie.
Multiple. From last night.
“Fuck,” you groan out loud this time, gaining the attention of Dina from across the room. She’s already sitting up, scribbling away in a notebook that you assume to be rushed classwork.
“You ok?”
A hand comes to wipe across your face, rubbing the skin of your cheek gently. Dina asking is sweet, but you struggle to answer honestly. “I'm good, yea. I just have to see Ellie.”
You’re up and out of bed before Dina can ask further questions, stomach turning as you look at your phone screen again. The three separate texts make you feel a little sick, especially the last one that came hours later— likely when Ellie was already frustrated.
It shouldn’t make you so queasy, something as simple as sleeping through texts. But it was Ellie. You never missed Ellie’s texts like that. Especially not her asking you to come over.
You trip over the small rug near your bed as you rush to the connected bathroom to change, earning a gasped laugh from your roommate.
“Jesus, slow down,” she calls to you through the shut bathroom door, but you’re too focused on the task currently at hand— pulling the shirt over your head without bumping into something else.
Dina watches your panicked-looking face as you step back out into the floor of your shared bedroom a few moments later, her lips pursing in confusion.
“Did Ellie die or something?” Dina jokes with curious seeming eyes, pressing her notebook closed. “You’re running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”
You shake your head with a small half-assed smile, “No- I just uh- I forgot I promised to meet her this morning,” it seemed easier to lie than to admit your heart was in your throat because you slept through a movie invitation. Your hand goes for the sweatshirt bunched up on the floor, pressing your fingers into the cloth of the grey sleeves. It was a bit too warm to wear it, you know that, but there's a sense of comfort that soothes the aching in your stomach when it's pulled over your head, and you move to the door.
“Hey,” Dina pipes up as you step across the threshold, “Jesse and I are going to a friend’s tonight, Danny. He’s got some off campus apartment he’s having a little party at. Do you... Wanna come?” The question falls from Dina’s lips simply, her attention moving from your eyes to the top she's readjusts after a night of sleep. But the way her gaze flicks up a few times tells you that this was an important question for the brunette.
“On a Monday?”
“Oh!” your roommate’s nose crinkles as she mulls over the fact that yes-- it was in fact a Monday, which wasn't exactly the perfect day for a party. “Yea, I guess that’s not helping my case hm? I promise it won't be crazy. Dan’s friends are chill.”
You think about it for a second, shifting from one foot to another. It was a good opportunity to get closer to Dina. To maybe make some new friends you had come to have missing space for after Jade and you stopped talking, putting you down her and all her friends. But it was a Monday, and you definitely couldn’t have a hangover for your sociology lecture on Tuesday. Instead of pointing any of this out though, you find yourself instead asking...
“Can I bring Ellie?”
It seemed Dina was expecting this question, waving a hand your way. “Yea, I already told Jesse it’d be two people.” For some reason, that admission has your neck feeling a little hot. Your eyes find the wall to try and cover the awkward noise your throat makes.
“Ok.. yea, cool. I should be able to go. My last class is like three today.” Your feet bounce just lightly as you speak, which Dina notices.
Dina smiles, clapping her hands together. “Great. Now shoo before you start vibrating in your spot or something.”
You nod, offering another smile before your dash out into the hallway. Instead of turning and heading for Ellie’s dorm, you make a beeline for the elevator. It was early in the morning. Too early to show up pounding at Ellie’s door when she was likely grumpy from the sun and the previous night. No, you needed a peace offering.
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
That peace offering came in the shape of slightly cold dorm cafeteria french toast and waffles, tucked into a styrofoam takeout box. It was Ellie’s favorite, but she always woke up too late for them. Stingy college kids always stole them all before the first 9 am classes even started.
You held the styrofoam in your free hand as you reached forward to knock at the door. Before you could, it flew open-- both you and the person at the door jumping. You are met with the sight of dark hair and wide blinking brown eyes. Rose. They smile apologetically at you, repeating your name and different versions of ‘sorry’ as they press past you to get through the door.
Ellie’s roommate was sweet, but they were always running around with something to do, so you didn’t see much of them. At this point, Rose didn’t even question why you were always at their dorm-- you probably spent more time there anyway.
Your eyes follow as Rose hurries down the hallway, a nice distraction to the shuffling you hear from inside the now open door. “Hello?” a groggy voice asks. It forces you to look back to the doorway, met with the sight of a very sleepy looking Ellie. Her arms are crossed over her comic teeshirt-clad chest, hair messy behind her ears. You find yourself focusing on the straight line her lips are pulled into, and then the crease in between her furrowed eyebrows. You wonder for a moment if pressing your thumb to it would smooth it out.
“Hi..” you try, blinking at her as both your bodies shift into the dorm.
For a moment, it’s silent. You look around the dimly lit dorm you had seen a hundred times, acting like it was a brand new vision so you didn’t have to look at Ellie. Eventually though, you suck in a breath.
“You totally ignored my te-”
“I didn't see your tex-”
The two sentences lap over each other in unison, messy and rushed. Both voices are cut short when the opposite peaks. You let Ellie finish first, your mouth sealed shut.
“You ignored me last night,” Ellie mumbles, stepping toward her side of the room. The posters that cover the corner near her bed are starting to peel at the sides a little, and you have to fight the urge to ask if she has tape. Now is definitely not the time.
“I was talking to Dina then fell asleep, didn't ignore you,” you correct your friend, footsteps following her own. You still grip the take-out box as you watch Ellie tug a hair tie off her desk, fingers (you oddly couldn’t look away from) pulling the hair up into the usual bun.
“It was like barely even six or something, but whatever, I get it, roommate shit,” Ellie muttered-- as if she didn't know the exact time you stopped answering. As if she hadn’t had a mini breakdown over having to watch a shitty action movie alone.
You find a slight flame of annoyance in your gut, mixing with the guilt already settling there. “Ellie, I was tired I fell asleep. I'm sorry.”
Ellie, stubborn as ever, shrugs. “Yea, it’s whatever.”
“Don’t be like that,” you whine, hand reaching to grab at her wrist. The touch burns, even more when she pulls it away.
“I’m not being like anything.”
You groan, and the childish urge to stomp comes to mind, but you ignore it. “You're being all.. passive-aggressive.”
“I’m not. I said it’s ok, peach. Just stop.”
The nickname is a blatant attempt to make her annoyed tone a little less severe, something to ease the growing tension. You would like to say it didn’t work, but it did. You and Ellie were much better at avoiding the issues than dealing with them. Usually, they were painted over with sweet nicknames or offers to go out and do something. It always worked. You relax slightly and hold out the box for Ellie to see.
“I brought a peace offering. Knew you’d be all grumpy.” you wave the food box a little, pressing it closer to her chest.
Ellie scoffs as she grabs the box and sits on her bed. “I am not grumpy,” she mutters with a very grumpy-looking frown.
You kick a dirty shirt away from her bed as you sit next to her, settling on the blanket and watching her open the box.
“Waffles.. fuck yea!” She grabbed the waffle with her hands, like there wasn't a fork right there with the box, and bit into it. It makes your lip curl a little, but morning Ellie was not someone to be messed with, so you say nothing. Instead, you look around the room, your fingers playing with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Not sure what to say next, you lick your lips.
“Uh, good peace offering?” Ellie nods in response, swallowing a mouth full of lukewarm waffle before speaking.
“I’ll give it a 5.5/10.”
You make a shocked face, mouth dropping open. “A five? I fought off like three hungover guys for these!” you shove her shoulder, earning a grumble.
“Yea, and you made me watch a movie alone,” Ellie takes another bite of her waffle.
The light feeling that began to build had dropped as quickly as your heart, a lump in your throat. “Yea, my bad.”
Ellie looks at you, jade eyes moving around your face as she swallows. “ ‘m joking, thank you..” her tone is just a tad softer, but you still feel all too itchy now, an urge to get up and go settling over your frame.
You nod, a slightly fake raise of your lips attempting to comfort her as you stand, “I have to get ready for class, but uh, I sort of told Dina we’d go to a party...Would that be a better peace offering?”
“Its a mon-”
“I know, I know, but please, El, I really wanna get close with Dina,” your voice borders on a beg, fingers pinching at your sweatshirt. “Weren’t you the one who encouraged me to?”
Ellie sighs at that, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah, I guess I was. Shit- fine. But my astronomy class gets out later than your English. I cant drive you.”
It made you want to smile, the way Ellie had already memorized both of your schedules. The earlier discomfort from her slight attitude melted away as something warmer bloomed in your stomach.
Maybe you and Ellie were a bit dramatic. You had been told that many times actually. The way you could get so upset at each other for something simple and yet still fall all over each other the moment something sweet happened. Sometimes you wonder if other friends have these turbulent of feelings for each other, but you ignore it with a nod. “That’s fine. I’ll catch a ride with Dina.”
Ellie turns her head momentarily, shrugging and covering a slightly noticeable pout with an awkward reach for the french toast in the takeout box. “Just text me the address.”
You nod, saluting Ellie as you step into the dorm door. “Will do.”
Ellie rolls her eyes and shoos you off, “Get going.”
“Bye, love you El!” you shout through the door. The loving words came easily, something you had said every so often ever since you two were younger. Ellie didn’t say it as much, but you didn’t mind.
“Bye, peach,” Ellie called, the nickname receiving an eye roll. One she couldn’t see this time.
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4:30 pm came too soon. By then, you were back at your dorm, shoving a stack of books on your already messy desk and flopping back on your bed.
“Who even has a party at 6 pm on a Monday?” you question your roommate, who was currently fixing the mascara she had applied. You words flow over the soft music Dina had turned on, a low hum from her desk.
“College students who have a slight alcohol dependency,” Dina shrugged.
“Fair enough,” you laugh, flipping onto your stomach to watch her walk around the orange-lit room. You hadn’t even begun to get up and get ready, focused instead on watching your roommate’s routine as she walked around.
“It's only gonna be like fifteen people or something,” Dina shrugs as she pulls out a chapstick tube, applying it over her lips.
“Hm..” you nod like that made it any better. Fifteen people you had probably never met before, when you were tired from classes. Yea. You would definitely need a drink.
Dina looked over at you, a grin spreading on her lips as she walked over to you, her fingers gripping your wrist. “Get up. Jesse’s gonna be here soon!”
“I don’t even know what to wear,” you whine, letting your roommate drag you into a sitting position as you meet her eyes. They narrow, and she tugs you again, this time to stand.
“Just wear that! Well, take off the sweatshirt but jeans and a shirt is fine. That’s what I'm wearing.” Dina shrugs as she lets her fingers reach for the bottom of your sweatshirt, the pout never leaving your lips. You didn’t want to remove it, but she urged you to with a friendly tug.
“C'mon, show me your closet. I’ll help you pick a shirt.”
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
When you got into the back of Jesse’s car, you completely shut down. Your lips were shut so long you swore they may have stuck together. He was friendly, sure! He cracked jokes you betted Ellie would laugh at, he complimented Dina’s outfit as soon as you got in the car, and grinned when you introduced yourself. But you had taken more than a week to openly speak to your roommate, so her boyfriend wasn’t exactly the easiest to chat to.
Dina didn’t mind, making sure to include you every now and again in whatever conversation the two had going, smiling back at you from the passenger seat as you pressed into the black cushion of Jesse’s car. You found yourself staring out the window, eyes flitting over each street lamp they passed, watching as the sky dimmed just lightly as the minutes seemed to drag by.
Eventually, the car stopped outside an apartment complex, and you peered through the glass at the tall buildings. Jesse pulled the keys from the car as he rushed out and around the other side. It was too late for what he was planning, Dina opening the door right as he reached for it, in turn smacking the metal door right in the stomach and face.
“Ow! Babe!”
Dina covered her mouth with a hand, a muffled snicker only slightly concealed. “Why the fuck did you run into the door?”
Jesse looked at his girlfriend incredulously, rubbing his sore nose, “I was trying to be a gentleman!”
“Since when were you a gentleman?” Dina questioned as she stepped out of the car; you only a moment behind as your feet found the gravel under you.
Jesse calls your name, eyes directed at you. “C’mon. Back me up. You saw me going to open the door right?”
Your nose scrunched, lips parting for the first time in too long, “I kinda did, yea..”
The boy makes a quick motion with his hands to say ‘see?’, Dina shakes her head as she steps back, arm looping yours. The touch makes you stiffen a bit, but Dina’s always warm smile calms you.
“Stop using my roommate in your little lies,” she muttered, though the smile never faltered as you walked up to a ground-floor apartment door. Jesse mumbles a few nonserious complaints as he knocks at the wooden door.
It opens quickly, a ginger guy who seemed about your age answering, cheeks full of freckles raising into a smile. It makes you wonder when Ellie will be here.
“Dee! Jesse!” The boy greets, eyes finding yours, “Oh and Dee’s roommate!”
Dina rolls her eyes as she pulls you inside the cooled apartment, your skin pricking slightly. At least it wasn’t humid like all those frat parties Jade brought you to. You still find yourself wishing you had your sweatshirt, though. “She's got a name, Danny..” your roommate chastises before introducing you two.
“Her friend’s coming later,” Dina explains as she leads you into a living room that looks much too small to house fifteen or so tipsy college students. You guess the attached kitchen will act as more space, with a few plates of snacks and bottles already stacked on the island.
You let the conversation that begins between the three friends about when everyone will be here filter out as you explore the area with your eyes. A couch and a few seats... you could probably hide away on one of those..
Your plan to avoid human contact is quickly ended when Jesse shoves a glass in front of your face, “Drink?”
Your fingers wrap around the glass without a second thought. Alcohol was your friend tonight, the only one until Ellie arrived. Usually, the only two things that could make you talkative, you had to settle for it. “Thanks,” you mumble, groaning as the taste of Titos with too little coke finds your throat.
Ok, you could do this.
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
Ellie couldn’t decide what flannel to wear. Maybe that sounds crazy. It’s a flannel, not a suit— for some small get-together. But she wondered which you would recognize first. Not that she cared about you liking her clothes or anything.
This indecision is what got her in the current situation, sitting outside the address you had given with two flannels in her hand.
Her car was cold, and the wifepleaser she wore without any coverage didn’t exactly stop the goosebumps from finding her skin. A scowl came to her face as she inspected the brown and blue shirts.
“Fuck it,” she groaned, tossing both options into her passenger side as she instead leaned over to the back, grabbing the black sweatshirt she’d worn to classes today. Ellie brought it to her nose, checking it didn’t smell or anything— and shrugged. “Good enough,” she muttered to herself before pulling it on and leaving the car.
It felt odd, to be walking up to a door she didn’t know, especially without you. She may be constantly telling you to put yourself out there, but Ellie was just a big hypocrite. It’s not like she really did anything totally spontaneous either, aside from a few club outings or drunk hookups. She had s lot to say about you putting yourself out here, but here she was, playing nervously with her fingers outside a party.
One quick check of the two of your texts confirmed the metal letters next to the door were correct, so she knocked rather harshly.
Immediately Ellie regretted that, cheeks pink as she pulled the hand away. There's a chorus of voices and shuffling behind the wood, and Ellie finds herself searching for yours.
Instead, a taller man opens the door, black hair messy, cheeks slightly flushed from what Ellie assumes to be drinks.
“Hey, uh—“ his head turns, searching behind him. Ellie thinks she may slam her head on the wall right then, embarrassed by the obvious fact this guy had no fucking clue who Ellie was.
The embarrassment from this didn’t last long; the man stepped to the side slightly as a booming voice interrupted them. This embarrassment cut much deeper into Ellie’s stomach. It painted her cheeks bright red.
“ELLIEEEE!” a voice shouts. She finds you, eyes wide and smile on your face as you open your arms. Oh you are so fucking drunk, aren’t you? You rush toward the auburn-haired girl, wrapping her into a tight hug, your arms pressing around her in a way that had her cursing her family for passing over the wobbly knees over pretty girls gene.
God, she has got to stop calling you pretty.
Ellie stumbles back with the force of your attack, patting your back awkwardly as her chin juts down to your shoulder.
Ellie's eyes meet the black-haired guy again, “She drunk?” she asks as you sway the both of you. The way you shove her chest and scoff gives her an answer. You only got offended at the accusation when you were drunk.
“I am not drunk! Just a little tipsy.”
The guy behind you makes a ’so so’ motion with his hand, drawing a grin out of Ellie.
“Righttt..” Ellie nods, letting you unwrap yourself from her. She watches as your head turns, “Oh! Ellie, this is Jesse, Dina’s boyfriend.. Jesse, this is Ellie,” you make a few awkward looks between the two, huffing.
Jesse smiles at Ellie, nodding his head to the hall. “I’ll meet you two in the living room!”
“Yea, yea sure,” Ellie nods and smiles the best she can manage when you trip over your feet back into her. The annoyance that had layered her being earlier in the morning was steadily decreasing as your eyelashes fluttered, staring at you. How could she stay angry at you for .. ‘missing’.. her texts when you looked so pr—
So nice.
“They’re so cool, El,” you whispered to her, hand finding her arm. You had a tendency of becoming touchy when you got a drink or two in you, and usually that affected Ellie, the one closest to you most times. “Yea?” she asks in response
It wasn’t like Ellie minded it. If anything, she would rather it be here you got all.. grabby with. A memory of you clinging to Jade a few times last year came to the forefront of Ellie’s ever-moving mind, making bile rise in her throat. Instead of thinking about why, she just bumped your shoulder, eyeing the shirt you wore. It wasn’t your usual style, nor a shirt she had seen you wear before. You seemed to notice Ellie’s gaze, clapping a hand on the red fabric.
“It’s Dina’s,” you explain, leading Ellie into a now slightly stuffy living room. The porch door was open now. A few people squished into the small outdoor space, and a few others in the kitchen. Though the main group was all huddled on the couches, chatting and laughing in a way that seemed much too close for Ellie and you to interrupt.
Even in your tipsy state, Ellie felt you shy away slightly, until Dina’s head popped up from a seat and grinned. “Over there,” you hum— again dragging Ellie with you.
Ellie kind of knew Dina. In a ‘I have a class or two with you and we have smiled at each other in the dorm hallway’ sort of way, due only to the shared face they both knew— you. Dina seemed sweet enough, even if you hadn’t yet babbled about that to Ellie.
Dina seemed nice, so Ellie shouldn’t feel a swoop in her stomach when you returned the smile to your roommate, but she did. The feeling bubbles in Ellie’s throat for only a moment before she swallows it down with a huff as you pull her to sit on her couch.
“Hey, Ellie,” Dina greets the girl when the two of you sit, her mouth then coming to wrap around the cup in her hand.
“Hey, Dina,” Ellie nods her head, looking around at the group.
You pipe in before the silence can get too awkward, a grin lacing your pretty lips. “Dina and Jesse were arguing over what movie to watch b’fore you got here,” you explain, head leaning toward Ellie’s shoulder. She moves it before your cheek can find the sweatshirt clad skin, a frown replacing the curl of your lips.
Dina uses this as an opportunity to delve right back into what seemed to be a half hearted argument, head shaking. “He wants to watch Jurassic Park for the like fifteenth fucking time,” she glared at Jesse, who Ellie could guess was her boyfriend.
“Hey,” Ellie butts in, “Jurassic Park is good.”
“Thank you!” Jesse shouts. “Someone with good fucking taste!”
Dina scoffed, “Maybe the first time, not the fifteenth. I said we should watch a horror movie,” the ponytail-wearing girl explained. Ellie is listening to the argument, sure, but she’s mainly focused on how your cheeks raise a bit every time either of the couple says something funny.
“Ellie,” a voice calls the girl out of her little daze, green eyes finding the lips that had asked the question, Dina’s.
“Huh?”
“I asked what your favorite movie is. Jesse thinks you must have great taste since you like Jurassic Park.”
“Shawshank Redemption,” Ellie says without thinking— the answer she always gave when people asked.
You make a noise beside her, shaking your head quickly. “Oh fuck off Ellie,” your eyes find Dina and Jesse, “She’s totally lying. Just saying that ‘cuz Joel likes it, and it’s not lame.”
The couple doesn’t question who Joel is, but the little comment has Ellie biting her lip in embarrassment.
“Her favorite movie is like—the Star Wars prequels,” you continue.
“they are not!” Ellie quickly shouts, shoving you. Dina smiles a little at the act, sharing a glance with Jesse that has Ellie looking a little flushed.
“You’re just saying that because I told you It was one of the movies that made me gay,” Ellie accuses, making you roll your eyes.
“You made me watch that shit every Friday for like two years cause of Padme. Think we’ve watched shawshank like once. And it was with Joel.”
“Oooh, your girl’s calling you a liar,” Jesse whistled, leaning forward from his place perched on the side of the couch.
Your girl. The words wrap around Ellie’s throat in a way that makes it hard to breathe, nails of each syllable digging into the freckles in her neck.
Don't go there.
“She thinks I lie about everything, worst friend ever,” Ellie sighs, the friend part coming out a little too forced.
“I am the best friend ever,” you shake your head, “You just lie a lot.”
“I’ve never lied in my whole life!”
Ellie is met with a harsh pinch on her arm, yelping as she feels the burn. “Ow!”
You stick your tongue out childishly, leaning into Dina to protect yourself when Ellie’s hand reaches out to punch you.
The fight is interrupted when a new person joins the group, ginger and tall. “We’re playing spin the bottle,” he points to the group forming on the carpet, Ellie’s nose tilting up a bit. Spin the bottle, really?
“Lameee,” Dina calls, arms wrapping around you as you gasp.
“Wait, no, that sounds fun! We should play!” you say, shocking both Ellie and Dina.
“We need to get vodka in you more often,” Dina claps your shoulder and raises into a more proper position. Ellie has to bite back an annoyed scoff. You definitely didn't need to be like this more often.
Sure, Ellie wanted you to find more comfort in being outgoing, but she didn’t want you to find that in the bottom of a cup of vodka and coke.
“El, play with us?” you question, eyeing the freckled face.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” She agrees, though it’s mostly so she can sit next to you and maybe mind-control the bottle to steer clear of your direction.
All three of you, followed by Jesse and then the ginger, stand and make your way to the smaller group on the ground. The ginger introduces them all, But Ellie isn't paying much mind. Instead, she focuses on getting you to sit without stumbling.
“How much vodka did you have, peach?” she mumbles against your ear so no one else can hear.
“Uh, like two mixed drinks? I'm fine, just overtired.” You push off her accusations of being drunk again, grinning lightly at her as if it would prove you were sober somehow.
Ellie doesn't respond, eyeing Dina as she takes the spot next to you on the other side, and then Jesse next to her. She was surprised the couple was playing, but the way Dina made an ‘Im watching you’ motion to Jesse told her enough they weren't taking the game too seriously.
It made her a bit jealous, how comfortable and.. not possessive a couple like that could be with each other. Yet here she was, a sick stomach just from the thought of a girl that was only her friend kissing someone. She needed to get a fucking grip.
“Ok, who first?” a brunette girl across from Ellie asks, eyeing the empty beer bottle in the middle. The ginger volunteered, and Ellie clocked out again.
She had no interest in watching a bunch of straight people kiss each other drunkenly, instead eyeing the posters and paintings on the living room walls. She took a few photos of space she recognized, and some movie posters that looked like they were from the 80’s. Whoever lived here seemed to have good taste. Ellie eyed the group curiously, wondering who it may be.
About five minutes later, Ellie returned to earth when someone said your name. “You wanna go next?” The ginger man asked, to which you nodded— thought a little less enthusiastically now. Maybe the vodka had begun to sweat its way out of you, or maybe watching a bunch of people kiss before now had made you a little less excited. Ellie couldn't be sure which.
Ellie watches as your fingers wrap around the bottle, shaking enough that only she would really notice. The girl thinks she may actually pass out from how hard she holds her breath.
When it begins to slow down, it’s almost right back to yourself, and Ellie starts to think she actually can mind control things. But instead, almost worse than it landing on anyone else, it lands right on her.
Everyone around you two whoops, and she can hear Dina’s voice carrying over everyone else’s.
It’s probably a little funny to look at the two reactions. Your face pulled into a shit-eating grin, puckering your lips and pressing your hands to the ground so you could lean closer. And then Ellie’s, face dropped like she had seen a ghost of a loser lesbian’s past.
Honestly, Ellie did—the ghost of a particular memory from her fifteenth year.
You lean in, nose brushing Ellie’s. Her ears go deaf, ringing as your breath puffs against her shaking lips. Right as they begin to touch, a fire rips between the small space of air there. A fire that has Ellie almost yelping out loud, pulling right back before she can taste the vanilla bean of your chapstick flavor.
“Hey!” you cry out, obviously not taking this as seriously as Ellie. No, you seemed more annoyed that she ruined the game. But she was pressing her fingers into the floor, burning from the way it hurt the flesh there to stop the hammering in her chest.
This was a totally normal reaction, Ellie decided, definitely.
“You ruined the game!” you cry, shoving Ellie’s shoulder enough to have her blinking quickly.
Dina shoves a shot glass in front of Ellie’s face before she can settle the heartbeat in her ears.
“You pussy out, you drink,” the brunette singsongs.
“I’m driving,” Ellie turns her head, standing up. Your eyes follow her, burning into the side of her cheek as she wipes sweaty palms on her jeans.
The mood dampens, but only for you and Ellie. The rest of the group goes back to playing. Ellie knows by the gasp that wafts through her pounding eardrums as she begins to walk away.
Soon, the stomping footsteps of your tipsy self follow behind. “El,” you whisper yell, grasping her arm. This time, Ellie lets you.
“Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask, eyes searching the red-tinted freckles on her face. “I didn’t mean to. It was just a game. I'm just trying to impre—”
“It’s fine,” Ellie assures you, faking the best smile she can. It should be honest; she has no reason to be upset right now. But she is. Her chest aches with the urge to go back in time and just let you do it.
“I'm just really tired, not in the partying mood.”
“Then let's go home,” you say quickly, probably searching to ease the discomfort Ellie knows she’s radiating. “I’ll stay at your dorm tonight, ok?”
God, Ellie’s such a fucking goner.
“Yea, ok. You’re definitely drunk anyway.”
“I am not!” you pout, releasing Ellie from your bruising grip. “Let me go tell Dina, I’ll be back.”
Ellie watches as you trip a bit over your feet, a habit you really need to shake, and sighs.
The silent show is not long-lasting, the brunette from the circle earlier arriving at Ellie’s side. She had kind eyes, and a bottle of water in her hand.
“Hey, it’s Ellie right?” she asks. Ellie finds herself watching the blue in her eyes.
“Yea,” Ellie nodded.
“You taking her home?” the girl asks again, in reference to you. She hands the water bottle to Ellie. “Give her this, don’t think she’s had any.”
Ellie grips the water bottle, squeezing it a bit. “Uh, thanks.”
“No problem,” she grins, one almost like yours. “My roommate’s always throwing these things and then never giving people water,” the blue eyes roll.
Ellie perked up at that, “You live here?” She thinks again of the space decorations in the living room.
“Yeah!” the brunette smiles again, “Me and Danny. I'm Luna,” she explains.
“Oh shit, wait,” Ellie’s eyebrows furrow together, “Luna..” something clicks in the green-eyed girl’s mind. “We have that physics class together, don’t we?
Luna seemed a little flushed, “Oh.. y-yea-”
The rest of her sentence falls on deaf ears when you trample into the hallway again, all senses only honing in on you, like usual. You seem to pause for a moment, eyeing the two others in the hallway.
But soon, you’re moving right by Luna, arm wrapping around Ellie’s. “Told Dina, all good to go,” you wipe a hand over your face with a little dramatized yawn.
“Thank Luna,” Ellie says again before she grabs you right back, leading you out the front door.
“You have got to stop drinking vodka. You know how you get,” Ellie mutters against you when the cool night air hits her already raised skin.
“I wanted to have fun!”
“Yea, good luck with fun tomorrow at your lecture.”
“Skippingggg it,” you mumble as Ellie ushers you into the passenger seat, the door squeaking like usual. Your ass lifts to grab the two shirts under it. “Why are there flannels in here?”
“Uh—” Ellie flushes, “I dunno.” She shuts your door before getting into her own side.
“Mm..” you sigh, already pressing your cheek to the cold glass of her window. “Who was that girl you were talking to?” you ask as the purr of the engine starts. Ellie throws the water bottle in your lap.
“A classmate, drink that.”
You look at Ellie for a moment, and Ellie stares right back. “.. Ok.”
﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚
“Shhh,” Ellie mutters, ushering you through the dark dorm hallway. “Can I wear your bear shirt? The super oversized one?” you babble, knocking yourself into Ellie’s door with a yelp.
“You’re such a fucking dumbass,” Ellie snickers, making quick work of unlocking the door while you nurse the bump on your head.
“Shhhh!” you mock her, flipping the light switch of her dorm on. Your finger presses to your lip in a quiet motion, kicking your shoes off. Rose wasn't here, as usual.
Ellie’s throwing the shirt with a cartoon bear at you before you lift yourself back up, and you happily tug Dina’s shirt off. Ellie is flipping away before the fire in her chest can return, throwing a pair of sweatpants behind her head so she doesn’t have to look.
“Ow!” you cry, probably from a large jumble of grey fabric hitting you.
Ellie pulls off her sweatshirt and changes her jeans for some shorts, counting to sixty before she turns around. Just to be safe.
You were already lying in her bed, pressing on the right side near the wall, eyes fluttering shut.
Ellie watches you for a moment, watches how your fingers grip at one of the blankets on her bed, thumb rubbing over it. She noticed the self-soothing motion of that years ago, how you always rubbed something between your fingers. The sleeve of your shirt, a pillow corner, a blanket. Sometimes, Ellie wishes it was her arm you did it to instead.
Don't go there.
The light flicks off, drowning the room in only the hue that came from the little pink nightlight on her roommate’s side of the dorm. Ellie is sleepily making her way to the bed, eyes catching on your now sleeping figure.
Alcohol also made you sleep really fucking easy. Ellie learned that prom night when you fell asleep in the car to the afterparty.
She watches how your lips part slightly as you breathe, and swears out loud. “Fuck.”
Ellie is so fucked. She wanted to snap her fingers and get a do-over. Wanted to be back in that loud house, back to smelling the vodka on your breath as you leaned in. She wanted to try again.
But she can’t, and she shouldn’t. So she climbs into bed next to you, pulls the blanket from between your thumb, and lets you shift, turning in bed to face the wall. She lays the blanket over you and sucks in a shaky breath.
She watches your back and presses her eyes closed to try and remove the overwhelming vision of you that invades every single one of her waking moments. And the ones after that.
Ellie falls asleep watching your back, and wonders if that’s all she will ever get.
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series taglist: @darlingmisa @saintels @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @catkirkfan @lvrellie @gimalo135 @oatmilkchaii @corpsebridenightamare @oggystine93 @eddies-bat-tattoos @belliesgf @simiinthemirror @els-heart @iloverue @zourqz @ellitelesbo @bae-o-clock @elliesgff @gumdropkoo @sawaagyapong @gold-dustwomxn @jajsnjz @sleepyangelkami
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mint-yooxgi · 11 months
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The Feral Drabbles
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A series of drabbles with both Ateez and Stray Kids in the First Person POV which express their desires for the (usually) implied chubby!reader.
It's time to see just how feral you make them.
Intoxicating - Yandere!Fennec Fox!Jeongin
Impatient - Yandere!Pup Hybrid!Seungmin
Delectable - Yandere!Naga!Wooyoung
Yearning - Yandere!Phoenix!Mingi
Spectre - Yandere!Wraith!Hyunjin
Victory - Yandere!Demigod!Minho
Warmth - Yandere!Siren!Seonghwa
Forever - Yandere!Kitsune!San
Longing - Yandere!Dragon!Changbin
Control - Yandere!Incubus!Jisung
Valiant - Yandere!Centaur!Yunho
Indulgence - Yandere!Fallen Angel!Hongjoong
Promises - Yandere!Kraken!Felix
Depravity - Yandere!Wolf!Chris
Guardian - Yandere!Griffin!Jongho
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chaoticbardlady99 · 6 months
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Masterlist
I realized I might need one of these....
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ACCEPTING REQUESTS
My AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticbardlady99/pseuds/chaoticbardlady99
Astarion x Reader:
I DO NOT WRITE ASCENDED ASTARION- I will not glorify domestic violence and abusive relationships, by pretending it’s love and lust.
Ongoing series:
Lethal Woman- Astarion x GN! Reader, ongoing fic, smut
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter Ten
I Wondered if I Could Come Home?- Astarion x F! Pregnant Reader
Part 1
Part 2, SMUT, MDNI 18+
Part 3
Part 4
Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me- Astarion x F! Ghost Reader/ MDNI 18+- AO3
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Prologue
Chapter One: Music, Regrets, and Party Tricks
Chapter Two: Tea Parties and Fashion Catastrophes
Chapter Three: The Sun is Freezing
Chapter Four: Regrets
Chapter Five: Nisi Pellis Nostra
Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb (Astarion POV) MDNI 18+
Limited Series:
She's My Religion
Part 1: She's Cold, She's Dark, She's Cynical
Part 2: She Needs This Love Just as Much as Me
Part 3: Everyone Wants to Have Their Taste
Part 4: Makes You Believe in Something Above
My Little Mental Health Series
Yesterday I Felt like Dancing- Astarion x GN! Reader
I Took All This Love I Found- Astarion x GN! Reader
One-Shot, two-shot, three-shot (I'm Dr.Seuss without all the weird Seuss baggage)
Joybringer - Astarion x GN! Reader, MDNI 18+, Request
Dying Star Astarion x GN! Reader, Request
One of your Girls : Astarion x M! Reader MDNI 18+ (I tried my best), Request
Like Nothing I've Seen : Astarion x GN! Reader, Request
I Don't Wanna be Your Friend: Astarion x GN! Reader
Admiring from Afar Pt 1.: Astarion x GN! Reader, MDNI 18+, Request
Admiring From Afar Pt 2: Astarion x GN! Reader
Pinkie Promise- Astarion x F! Reader, Smut, 18+ MDNI, Fluff
Triple Dog Dare You- Part 2 to Pinkie Promise
If You Give a Dragon a Steak- One Shot Request
Twists and Turns: Astarion x F! Reader, Gale x F!reader
Never Have I Ever: Astarion x Non Tav F! Reader- Smut, MDNI 18+ (Non Tav Reader)
Maryë: Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader, MDNI 18+
Repose My Love, For I Have Sinned Enough - Astarion x GN! Cleric of Kelemvor Reader
Brighten the Corners of My Mind- Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader, MDNI 18+
Halsin x Reader:
Fluffy Halsin Headcanons w/ Male Reader : Halsin x M! Reader, MDNI 18+, request
Other:
As the World Caves In: Karlach x Shadowheart , request
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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 4 months
Text
What is Broken II (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader) Sneak Peek 2
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The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...
Author's Note: Ooooooh first Aemond POV ���
What is Broken II Sneak Peek
Aemond knelt in the Royal Sept at the feet of the Father. He had not slept the night before, not after he told his mother what had happened and watched her cry harder than he had ever seen. He’d gone all the way back to his rooms – those he shared with his wife – before remembering the promise he had made.
He could not go back to her. To his home.
So, he ended up in the Sept. He didn’t remember walking there. He just knew he’d been kneeling there long before the sun crested the horizon. He’d prayed and wept and begged the gods to either reveal to him a path to redemption or strike him down and spare him further torment.
The gods ignored him. He could not blame them for it.
His lamenting was halted by the sound of the doors opening, followed by a strangle rattling sound Aemond could not identify. He turned and saw his brother and king for the first time in months.
Aegon’s injuries from Rook’s Rest had been so horrific even Aemond struggled to look at him. The scars were hardly better. The king looked melted, twisted, broken – weak. It did not help that he was confined to a wheeled chair, with a blanket over his lap to conceal his crooked, atrophied legs.
The expression he bore was worse than all: empathy, disappointment, and rage.
Even Aegon had been protective of their youngest sister, to the point that he even restrained himself from making too many lewd comments in her presence. And after years of Aemond calling him depraved, perverted, and whorish, he would, of course, delight in the irony that his little brother was just as weak as him.
“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Aegon drawled. His voice was as damaged as his body, weak and rasping. “But then I saw our mother. I always thought I was the only one that could make her look like that. So sad and weepy and disappointed.”
Aemond reminded himself that Aegon was the uncontested king and that throttling the life from him was now more than ever considered treason. “I hardly think you are qualified to pass judgment on me,” he growled.
“No,” Aegon smirked as he brought his chair to a stop at Aemond’s side. “But I think I am well qualified to gloat, don’t you?”
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Sharing is Caring
Summary: Ominis has a problem with Sebastian and a f!MC. When Sebastian finds out what the problem is he talks with MC, wishing they could help Ominis.
Told from MCs POV
Warnings: This one has some smutty smut. Ya whippersnappers go home, this one’s for us 18 and older perverts
Pairing: Sebastian x f!MC 
A/N: This is only chapter one, there will be more to come, I promise. This story will turn into a lovely threesome relationship between the trio. I’m super excited to post this and get it the fuck out of my head. 
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You look up from your potions homework when you feel a book land on the library table, stifling a small scream. Your heartbeat calms as you realize it’s Sebastian, then quickens as he hastily presses a small kiss on your lips. As he pulls away you watch him intently, noticing a frown on his face as he slumps into the seat next to you, letting out a huge sigh. 
“What’s wrong, darling?” you ask softly as he leans forward, laying his head on the cool wooden table. 
A muffled “Ominis” reaches your ears and your heart sinks. Your blonde best friend had been acting moody for the last few months, distancing himself from you and Sebastian as much as he could. Even though you both had questioned him about his behavior, you hadn't yet gotten a satisfactory answer. After a rather rude encounter between you and Ominis a few days ago Sebastian had confronted him. Sebastian never told you what happened between them, but you knew it wasn't good. 
“What happened the other day? Sebastian tell me, please.” You had asked probably fifty times by now and knew it was starting to annoy your boyfriend, but you couldn't help it. Not knowing what had Ominis so upset was killing you. You missed your friend and spending time together as a trio. 
Sebastian sighed again, looking up at you, searching your eyes before sitting up and turning in his chair to face you. “I think he’s lonely, MC, and more than a little jealous of our relationship.” 
Not what you were expecting. 
“I hear him in his bed sometimes...pleasuring himself. Not that it’s all that odd to hear such things in the boys dorm, mind you.” He gives you a little smirk, making you blush. 
“But the other night was different,” he continues slowly, searching your face. “I could have sworn I heard him moaning your name, MC.” 
Definitely not what you were expecting. You stare at Sebastian incredulously, a deep heat slowly spreading over your face. 
“I care about him so much, MC, I hate seeing him like this. I wish there was something I could do for him. Or rather something we could do for him.” 
This breaks you out of your shock and elicits a deep, loud “HA” from you as your mind races at the implications of Sebastians words. What exactly was he saying? What was he asking of you? 
“What do you want me to do about it, sleep with both of you?!” you jokingly ask him, shocked and somewhat offended he would think you’d be okay with the idea. 
You and Sebastian had been dating for almost ten months now and sleeping together for a little over four of them. While you loved being a little slutty for him behind closed doors, okay maybe a lot slutty, you thought he knew it was only for him.  
He sighed, turned back to the table and opened his book. “I’m not asking you to do anything, MC. Just expressing concern for Ominis.”
You turned back to your potions homework, determined to drop this topic like a hot dragon egg. 
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You tried your hardest to forget the conversation between you and Sebastian as the week passed, but found it always lingering in the back of your mind. The initial shock wore off after a day or two, replaced by a rapidly growing curiosity. 
You couldn't help staring at Ominis during your classes together, wondering what the boy thought of you and, not for the first time, noticing how handsome he was. You tried, and probably failed, to hide these looks from Sebastian, not sure how he’d react, always feeling a blush overtake your cheeks when he did catch you. 
After six days you couldn't stand the intrusive thoughts, feeling as though you would drown in them. During some alone time with Sebastian in the Undercroft that evening you decided to bring it up. 
“Sebastian, did you really mean you wanted me to sleep with Ominis?” You hated to interrupt the kisses he was desperately leaving on your neck and shoulders, but you just could not concentrate on the gorgeous boy in front of you. 
“You're asking that now, MC?” he responded with a hint of a smile before planting a few more kisses. “Aren’t we a bit busy here, love? You need a little more attention to help keep your mind on me?”
Slipping his hands under your body he stood up, turned around, and placed you on the bed. You once again sent a silent thank you into the universe for the magic allowing the dusty, dark, cold Undercroft to become a warm, cozy place to indulge in each other. He was right, you were busy. You let out a deep breath, and relax into the soft surface, shaking your head in an attempt to rid yourself of thoughts of anything other than this moment. 
Seeing he had your full attention, Sebastian dropped to his knees in front of you, hands greedily grabbing your thighs, spreading them apart slowly. He resumed his kisses, torturously slow, covering your thighs in tiny bites, your small gasps fueling him. You curse under your breath realizing your reactions are only going to prolong your suffering at his hands. 
You buck your hips up to his mouth, desperate for any part of him to touch you where he knows you need it most. He chuckles against your leg, “patience, love, I’ll get there when I’m ready.”   
After what felt like a thousand lifetimes, you couldn't take it anymore. A needy, desperate moan of his name escaped your lips. 
“Seeeebassstiannnn”
“Mmmm, someone’s needy for me tonight. Let’s see what we can do about it, yeah?” Sebastians hands slipped between your legs, his featherlight touch making you shiver as he ran his fingers over your slit. 
“Fuck, baby girl, you're soaked for me.” His thumb connected with your clit. You moaned, the sweet release you needed to push all thought of Ominis out of your brain was on its way.   
“But is it really for me, or were you thinking about Ominis?”
He timed it perfectly. Plunging two fingers deep inside you as he spoke the other boys name. Your back arched slightly and a moan floated in the air as the blonde boys face flashed behind your closed eyes imagining him here, listening as you begin to unravel. 
Sebastian let the question hang in the air as he set to work, curling his now fast moving fingers, his tongue making a slow drag up your folds to your clit. He licked and sucked at you, letting out a deep moan that reverberated though you as your hands found their way into his hair, tugging at the soft strands. 
You loved that way Sebastian ate you out, like a starving man who could only be nourished by your juices. Adored the way his speech got filthier by the second as he lost control until he could barely speak coherently. Craved the way his tongue never stopped exploring your folds, desperate to make you feel good. 
“Merlins beard MC, you taste so fucking good! Mmmm I’ll never get tired of this. You’re getting close, aren't you gorgeous, I can feel your muscles starting to twitch around my fingers. Hang in there a few more minutes baby.” 
He slowly stood up, making sure to leave his fingers as far in you as he could. Kneeling on the bed, getting as close as he could to your face, he gently grabbed your chin, pulling you to him. “Come here. I need to see the look in your eyes when I make you cum tonight, love.” 
He resumed the masterful movement of his fingers inside you, kissing every inch of your skin he could reach until he felt your walls start to spasm. As you came undone he griped your jaw, making sure he had your attention.  
“Look at me, love, right at me. Good girl. I said we would fuck him. You know I’m a jealous guy, baby. Best friend or not, Ominis doesn't touch a fucking inch of you without me.” He crushed his lips against yours as the last wave of your orgasm rippled through you, sealing your lips together like a promise. 
He pulled away, slipping his fingers out of you, and brought them to his mouth, sucking one clean, laughingly asking “w-what?!” when he heard you giggle at him. “Did you want to do that?” He offered you his hand, eagerly sticking his still wet finger into your slowly opening mouth. You roll your eyes at him as your lips wrapped around his finger. 
“You know, I have something else you can suck, if you'd like, Darling.” He rubs his still clothed bulge against your leg. You gently shove him off you, chuckling, reaching for his pants eager to free him. You tug at his pants, pulling them down his legs. You moan softly as his hard cock springs free, filled with a desperate need to taste him. You lick your lips, taking him into your hand, looking up at him as you swirl your tongue over his swollen head. 
Moaning at the velvety softness of his skin, you take him into your mouth. His fingers snake their way into your hair, tugging at your strands as his breathing becomes uneven. As you bob your head, his hands grip your head, and push you further onto him. 
“Faster, baby, take it all.” 
As you open your mouth as wide as you can, taking all of him, you're rewarded with a low moan, almost a growl, and your favorite words to hear during moments like this.
“Good girl.” 
You relax your throat and let him take control. He thrust his hips, gently at first, his cock slipping in and out of your mouth. As his moans continue and his thrust lose their gentleness, he lets out a string of curse word filled statements about your skill in pleasing him. Every word brings him closer to his release and you moan around him as you feel him twitch in your mouth. He pulls himself out of your mouth, his hands bringing you up to his face, quickly rearranging your bodies before he roughly shoves himself into your pussy.
The feel of your tight, soaking, folds is enough to send him over the edge. He whines loudly, the sound quickly turning into a deep growl as he spills his cum inside you, his hips automatically thrusting, pushing his cock deeper in you. His hands squeezing your hips hard enough to leave bruises, you moan at the sight of him, completely undone underneath you, eyes shut tight, breathing hard, a deep flush showing under his freckles. As his hips still, you can’t help but tease him.
“Sebby, what is Ominis’ cock like?” you ask in an innocent voice.
His eyes snap open, narrowing at you for a split second. He composes himself quickly, and wraps his arms around you, pulling your face down to his. There's a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he stares at you. 
“You really want to find out, don’t you, you naughty girl.”  
You blush at his question, and open your mouth to tell him this is all his fault, he put the ideas in your head, but he pulls your lips down onto his in a needy kiss that leaves you breathless when he finally pulls away. 
“Give me some time and I’ll make sure you find out for yourself, MC.” He gives you a wink as he lifts your hips, finally pulling his cock out of you, gently pushing you onto the bed next to him. He pulls you into his chest, chuckling to himself. 
“I can’t believe how badly my girl wants to see my best friends cock. You’re such a slut, baby girl, I love it.”  
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openconceptpanicroom · 6 months
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The Keeper
-Chapter One: A Gift Unwanted-
Prince Aemond x Dragonkeeper!Reader
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Summary: Reader is given to The Greens along with an egg before the Dance as a gift to Prince Maelor. Her job is ensure the egg hatches as a "goodwill," present from Princess Rhaenyra. However, the Greens doubt these good intentions and no one is more suspicious than Prince Aemond. Pride, lust, envy and paranoia make the One-Eyed Prince almost beastly.
TW: MDNI, Aemond is very repressed, choking, threats of violence, obsessive love interest, power imbalance. AN: Aemond's POV in next chapter.
The Dragonpit of King’s Landing was a grand system of tunnels and caverns carved into stone. At the heart of the Dragonpit sat the nursery, a circular room with filled with hot coals to warm eggs marked for their future riders. Over each clutch hung wide open vents to funnel out the smoke, though it did little to lessen the heat of this place. It was here that you spent most of your days, drenched in sweat as you changed out coals beneath the egg you had been sworn to protect. A pale green egg promised to the babe Prince Maelor, a kind gift from his estranged aunt. You first felt pride at being the one to hatch and raise this dragon for a Prince to one day ride. Now, you were… cautious. A dragonkeeper acolyte once under the charge of Princess Rhaenyra, you now rested your head so close to those she had fled from. It had not been unknown to you that the Queen and Princess did quarrel. Although, perhaps naively, you had assumed you would be safe from the crossfire of their rivalry.
It was quite irritating to be so wrong. 
Prince Maelor was no more than a week old when Princess Rhaenyra drafted together a ship filled with goods for her youngest nephew. Glittering gemstones, rare silks from Lys, handcrafted toys of fine wood from Pentos, books of varying degrees of academic difficulties, and a dragon egg with a keeper. To the untrained eye, it was selfless. Colder hearts felt differently. The usually fertile she-dragon Dreamfyre had failed to lay a clutch in two years, meanwhile Syrax had just laid one that month. To gift an egg with a dragonkeeper showed Princess Rhaenyra’s arrogance. Her belief that the God’s favored her so much that it was all but guaranteed Syrax’s egg would bring forth a new dragon. Whether or not this was Princess Rhaenyra’s intentions mattered little. You were seen as at best an insult and at worst a spy. 
All that kept you from further interrogation was the knowledge that you would never be in the Red Keep. You were, after all, a dragonkeeper. They were not to enter the palace without reason, and certainly not without guards to take them about the keep. So long as you did as you said you would and kept away from the castle, you were left alone. 
For the most part. 
As you laid red-hot coals over Prince Maelor's egg, you felt that an eye upon your back. It spread chills over your skin despite the blazing heat. You let out a slow breath and laid your shovel to the side, pulling your thick leather gloves from your hands. For weeks now, you resided here with forty other dragonkeepers. None had had issue with your being here. There was no Queen to bother and no Lord Hand to stare at you incredulously. All you did, all day, was care after the egg and assist the other keepers in their chores. Yet He still came to stare at you. To mock you. To disturb you. 
“Iksis se Dārilaros's drōmon issare jūndan tolī, acolyte?”*
You sucked burning air through your teeth, lowering your scarf as you turned to face him. Prince Aemond stood in the entryway of the nursery, the heat already showing in beads of sweat on his face. Thin strands of silvery-white hair stuck to his face, one hanging just over his eyepatch. He was dressed to ride, all in black with one glove on and the other still in his fist. Black were his clothes, like that of a raven. A one-eyed raven. He used to be so quiet, Prince Aemond. For a brief time, you had known him. A freckled and shy boy with eyes of pale violet. Small and awkward, so hopeful that his egg on Dragonstone would hatch. That boy was dead. Replaced by this man that bore his name but not his heart, all memory of you gone. 
Bowing your head, you forced your voice to stay neutral, “Kessa, Ñuha Dārilaros.”*
His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, either irritated by your response or that you were yet again unbothered by him. Prince Aemond was one so used to insult, that anything without a readily available explanation was assumed to be some manner of slight aimed at him. Your presence was one of these assumed slights, was what an elder had said to you. 
“Māzigon kesīr, zaldrīzes buzdari.”
His voice was ice in your blood, and his words pulled you to him. The blood of Old Valyria was your master. Even when it mocked you. Your feet were slow but not clumsy as you stopped to stand before him. Eyes to the ground even then, as show of respect. Acolyte’s are not to make eye contact with those of the royal family. You swallowed thickly as the tips of Prince Aemond’s boots came into your view. 
“It gives me great vexation every time I look upon you. A mere acolyte, charged with caring for my nephew’s egg. Yet another example of my half-sister’s contempt. The Whore of Dragonstone cannot spare an elder, so she sends you,” Prince Aemond’s tone almost made you roll your eyes. Another accusation of negligence. Gods be merciful if you ever made a true mistake or misstep in his presence. “Prince Maelor will not suffer due to your incompetence.”
Your back ached from changing out the coals over and over. New callouses made their home over old callouses on your palms and fingers. Every inch of you was caked in sweat and soot. From the moment you rose to the moment you laid to sleep, you thought of the egg. His concerns were absurd, truly. Resisting the ever-growing urge to say so, you merely asked, “What more does Your Grace want for me to do to prove I am competent? I am your servant.”
A beat of pure silence passed. 
What was expected was more of his insults, accusations of negligence on your part. You did not prepare yourself for his ungloved hand which then grabbed your jaw. With his bare hand he yanked up your face so that you had no choice but to look at him. He pulled you close, staring down at you with the closest thing to a smile you had seen since meeting him again. Your pulse raced beneath his touch. He smelled of dragon, of bergamot, and coriander. Hair of starlight and one piercing eye of violet. Confronted so close and so suddenly by his fury and his beauty, blessed by the blood of Old Valyria. It felt indecent to be so close to one such as he. To know his palm was now marked by the filth of your labor. 
His hand slipped from your chin to your throat, fingers closing slowly. The coldness of his stare marked by something darker. Lips moving, he murmured something you couldn’t quite catch. It was growing hard to focus. To maintain composure. The sweltering heat, his glare, his fingering stealing your breath with every second. 
At last, you let out a whimper of a moan. Prince Aemond’s voice answering it with an audible groan. It was quick, but you heard it. Just as he released that hungry growl did he release you. You hacked and coughed on air that was too tainted to give you any sort of relief. By the time you could take a breath without wheezing, he was several feet away from you. He gave one last warning before leaving you in the nursery that day, “My nephew’s egg will hatch, or you will feel the consequences of your failure. Do you understand?”
All you can do is bow and say, "I understand, Your Grace."
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High Valyrian Translations (*)
"Is the prince's egg being looked after, acolyte"
"Yes, my prince"
"Come here, dragon slave"
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ethereal-night-fairy · 10 months
Text
Forgotten sorrows
Chapter 1
A Fae!AU story including COD characters
Fae!Soap X Female Reader
Your sister meets a mysterious man with an odd name and things just spiral downhill from there.
Warnings: MDNI, suggestive language, one use of the word fuck, dark themes , minor character death, attempted SA (not by soap),
This story was completely inspired by @ghouljams Fae!Au of COD MW. This won't make much sense if you don't read their blog. But I promise you won't be disappointed their an amazing writing so you should definitely check out their jaw dropping work. I hope I could do this au some justice. It's been a really long time since I've written a story. Sorry for any spelling mistakes in advance I did proof read when I was editing this chapter but I could've missed something. I'm halfway through the second chapter which will be extra angsty and hopefully in the third you'll enjoy Soap's Pov. Other COD characters will make appearances later on if I decide I want to continue writing.
Forgotten Sorrows Masterlist
Masterlist
Words: 7k
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The Renaissance festival was beginning to take life, like a dragon awakening from its long slumber. Majority of stalls were set up with a numerous array of artwork, jewellery and knick knacks on display, while the main stage for theatrical performances was receiving its final touch ups. Food stalls were made to look like tavern bars and the arena for jousting was getting rowdy with fans cheering for their favourite 'knights'.
Groups of people were beginning to pile in dressed in their finest mythical attire, their excitement creating a buzz and ripple through the air, it was almost electrifying. Some costumes were eerily realistic causing you some discomfort if you stared too long. Your own excitement was settling in as you finished setting up your stall with your work. You liked dabbling in a number of different creative hobbies hence why your stall looked like the inside of a pawn shop but at least your products all matched an aesthetic making it look somewhat cohesive.
The place was getting increasingly crowded as the festival went into full swing. People had bumped past your stall in a hurry causing things to tumble to the ground. You rush to pick them up as people brush past you. Looking up you catch the eye of a strange man who just stares at you while you tidy things away. You try to ignore him as his eyes roam your body but you can practically feel his eyes on you. Suddenly a hand settles on your shoulder as you finish fixing your display causing you to jump.
Turning around you see your younger sister, smiling ear to ear. You sigh with relief as you looked around to find that the odd man had disappeared. She had just come from the stage with her binder in hand, obviously excited to tell me something with the way she was bouncing. She was dressed as a pink fairy-like creature more on the costume side rather than aiming for accuracy, but she looked beautiful nonetheless.
"Well? Go on, tell me what's gotten you so jittery", You smirk holding her shoulders swaying her back and forth jokingly.
She smiles and begins her monologue as if she's talking to an audience. She goes on and on about a guy she had just met, how kind and sweet he was, how he really liked the short play she had written. How he couldn't stop complimenting her writing. How he was exited to watch her play later on today. You had already watched it multiple times at your local theater. You always went to support her, this would be no different. At this point you had zoned out from her monologue since all she was doing was fawning over said dude. You still caught small details here and there as she talked while you worked and dealt with customers. Boyish charm, rugged ensemble, electrifying green eyes, strong biceps was what you had learned about this oh so charming man. She was a writer through and through you laughed silently at her antics.
"Oh and you wouldn't believe what he did next", she screeches
"Let me guess he grabbed your hand, kissed it like a knight devoting himself to you, while confessing his undying love!", You joked
She gasped with theatrics "How did you know!?" "He did actually kiss my hand though, there will be plenty of time for him to confess his undying love later" she laughed. "I'm so full of inspiration I feel like I could write for days, who knew a compliment could get me so worked up", she giggled.
"Oh! Before I forget I wanted to show you a job offer I received to write another play, this could be my big break!! My plays could reach Broadway!", She explained excitedly.
You look at her skeptically considering her history with scams. But took a look at the contract anyway. While you read the contract you don't initially find anything suspicious until you get to ownership clause, and lo and behold in the terms and conditions in very fine print you find out once someone publishes their work the company claims to own that intellectual property as the writer has 'voluntarily' given over their rights to their own work by agreeing to work for them. And thereby are entitled to sell or distribute their work accordingly without consulting or needing to pay additional compensation towards the writers. You feel yourself seething from the audacity of this company.
You look at your sister with tired eyes "Please tell me you haven't signed anything yet", I plead
"Oh no I wouldn't have, especially since the last incident that happened", she looks down sheepishly.
"Oh thank god... this company just wants to steal your work, they don't actually want to help you so don't accept the offer", You let out a long breath while showing her the terms and conditions of the contract and telling her to read them next time. You look at her with pity, for someone so talented she was extremely naive when it came to things that required common sense, probably because she was always in her head but it was hard to stay upset with for the same reasons. You smile at her and let her know she did a good job telling you before deciding to do anything. Your sister smiles proudly at your compliment. You give her some advice about stalls that sell cheap manufactured products to pass them off as homemade. And to be careful talking to strangers before she goes around the festival while you continue working telling her you'll see her later on in the day.
You were hoping to enjoy the festival once you finish up with your stall but for the time being you happily engaging with customers and other artists that came for a chat. One of the products you offered was small paintings on thick ornate card roughly the size of a palm. They resembled the aesthetic of renaissance paintings. They were selling pretty well, by late afternoon you had sold majority of your products. Things weren't as busy around the stalls anymore since the theater performances had begun. You met some odd customers here and there and tried your best not to stare at their life like costumes. They were almost ethereal in the way they held themselves but you put on your best smile and treated them like anyone else. Their appearances often inspired you to paint more. But you didn't want to be rude and do it without their consent.
Time went on and things began to quieten. The jousting seemed to be going well, with the cheering as any indicator. You hoped to finish up soon. You wanted to explore a bit before the plays started. As your waiting around for customer you suddenly feel a dark pressure on your chest as if someone had placed a rock on your heart while you were tidying your display. You look up at your new customer and feel a shiver run down your spine. There was a dark looming presence about this.…this man? He wore a mask with a skull on it, which you supposed wasn't too uncommon especially with the way everyone was dressed here, but what you found odd was that you could feel fear seeping into your bones by just his appearance, you could almost see smoke or some sort of shadow emanating from him. You didn't even notice his partner until she spoke to you breaking the weird hold you had just felt. You grazed your woven rowan bark choker unconsciously, it had a small shield knot pendant on it. It brought you some peace as you subconsciously thank your best friend for gifting it to you years ago.
You put on your best smile while greeting them, you were back into your professional mode hoping not to offend them for staring. His girlfriend or wife was super kind and sweet, a really big contrast to the hulking figure behind her. She asked about the portrait paintings, you told her the price and rough time it would take to complete. The man didn't want to be in the painting so his partner who he affectionately called 'Love' was the one you painted. You were compelled to put extra effort to make it even better than your previous paintings for some reason, maybe out of guilt for judging them. You finish the painting, signing it on the back with your nickname and spray the sealant on it so it would last.
'Love' was overjoyed how it had turned out and eagerly handed it to their boyfriend, who stared at it for a while before turning and looking at another odd couple standing off to the side, he specifically stared at the very tall man with a full head and face covering which funnily enough looked like a t-shirt with eyeholes. You didn't quite understand what he meant to be, maybe an executioner? He had a menacing aura about him as well, something you definitely didn't want to deal with. Once he had caught his eye he proudly showed off the painting before sliding it into his chest pocket with a smirk you think with the way his mask moved upward slightly. You show your appreciation to them as they leave still terrified trying to control your trembling. They walk around while the other couple approached your stand. You really were low on your luck today. It seemed like the girlfriend wasn't all that interested in a self portrait but took her time browsing some of the jewellery pieces you had made. While her very large and very intimidating boyfriend whimpers at them so he could get a painting too, "But that beast got one Liebling, why can't I" "Don't you love me anymore?" He sulked. After a while she sighs and finally relents not wanting to deal with his whining for the rest of the festival.
You get to work immediately not wanting to stay in this awkward and nerve wracking situation. You put the same amount of effort into their painting as you had done to the previous one through a very compelling feeling. You chalk it up to guilt again for judging them. As you finish, you sign and seal the painting before handing it to them. This giant of a man is overjoyed when he receives the painting and you see him hold his darling close while staring at the painting. You watch them leave after paying, confused as to what you had just witnessed. But you decide to ignore it and continue working for another hour or so, before closing and packing up your stand with the little products you had left.
You look everywhere for sister but can't seem to find her even after numerous calls and text messages. An odd feeling of dread settles into your stomach. It almost felt as if you were being watched which put you on edge. You look around one last time hoping to catch a glimpse of her somewhere. Then suddenly you see her pink fairy hair at the edge of the crowd going towards the outdoor theater. You hurriedly make your way towards her incase she disappears again. Finally catching up you see a man clearly flirting with her. You roll your eyes thinking this is the likely reason why she hasn't checked her phone. You wave to get her attention and she looks and smiles at you while you make your way towards them not knowing what to expect from this guy.
"I've been trying to get a hold of you for so long" you pant slightly from your jog. "Where have you been?"
"Oh Soap here has been keeping me quite busy", she laughs playfully introducing him
The first thing you notice is his eyes… his overwhelming green/blue eyes, you felt like you'd drown in them if you didn't look away. Next came his perfect white smile, a little too perfect. With his boyish smirk to follow, you stare for a second too long earning you a toothy grin. Making you look away in embarrassment. You find yourself drawn to him in a weird inhumane way which unnerved you since you usually had great control over your emotions. You felt almost tied to him in a sense, like he was reeling in a fish with bait. But right now all you could think about was his lips devouring yours, stealing your breath away, then breathing life back into you when you'd clutched onto him desperately. His hands around your waist, holding you against a wall, his fingers touching…..You snap out of it quickly while holding the pendant on your choker. You feel guilt and shame enclosing around your heart making it hard to breathe but managed to calm down. While your sister continued her conversation, oblivious to your reaction to him. Your never had such a physical reaction to anyone before, paired with the feeling of being watched you were at your wits end today.
You introduce yourself as "Faoi Rún" or just "Rún" (pronounced as fae ruin or just ruin), before your sister can give him your government name when trying to introduce you. Knowing she has a tendency to forget you don't like your name given out.
"Oh? rún eh? That yer real name?" He asks intrigued
"Wouldn't you like to know" you say laughing tensely trying to avoid his beautiful eyes almost afraid he'll look too deep into your psyche. Afraid he'll figure out what was going on in your dirty mind.
"She's particular on strangers knowing her name, sorry, she might tell you if you get to know her better", she laughs playfully lightening the mood.
"Ye two don't look like sisters" he says "Did one o' ye get switched at the hospital by mistake? he joked
"We grew up in the same orphanage, we're sisters by choice not by blood", you state plainly indicating you didn't want to delve deeper into this topic.
"Come, both of you my play is about to start, I want you both there with me", your sister says trying to lighten the mood. In the short amount of time she knew him you couldn't understand how they had gotten so buddy buddy so quickly. This was extremely concerning for many reasons.
You weren't one to believe in the supernatural or faeries per say. But growing up with your witch best friend who lived near the orphanage you had certain habits instilled in you. With how often she'd visit you those habits just became second nature at some point. You were thankful for the knowledge you received on the unseen, though not always believing it.
People were tricky. You'd meet odd people here and there but you'd never think they weren't human per say though you were told otherwise. Maybe they were just odd or maybe you were desperate to deny their existence for your own sanity. Not wanting to complicate your life. Deciding to live in ignorant bliss. But the current situation had it becoming near impossible. Things you wanted to suppress were starting to bubble up. Especially since your encounter with this strangely charming but terrifying man.
Your sister had many friends in the orphanage when she first arrived. Who were closer to her age to play with so she didn't see the need to tag along when you went to see your best friend. Who lived nearby and had her grandmother's house just down the road to the orphanage.
You were often left to your own devices being among some of the older kids that weren't adopted. Even though you were only one or two years older, what made playing awkward with Daisy was how much you matured at a young age due to unreliable guardians. Where the orphanage caretakers lacked you would pick up the slack and care for the younger children especially your sister who relied on you more as her friends slowly started leaving. She felt hurt and alone thinking something was wrong with her for not being adopted like her friends. You often had to remind her she had you and you weren't planning on leaving her. Among the other unadopted children you two stuck together and took care of one another even after leaving and becoming adults. While the rest moved on and started new lives trying to forget their time in that orphanage.
You're snapped out of your thoughts as you arrive at a decent stop to sit on the grass as the performance begins playing. The whole time through the play you watched your sister swoon over this ethereal man in an extremely concerning manner even for her. She didn't really acknowledge you much, too busy hanging on to every sweet word this man had to say. There was something off about him you just couldn't place your finger on it. Every fiber in your being was telling you to grab your sister and run far far away. You didn't know what to do but you tried desperately to keep your composure, deciding to have a talk with her once he left. He caught you staring while you were deep in thought thinking about how you could warn her. He smirks almost knowingly as if he could read your mind and gives you a wink as he continues to flatter your sister who was weak to compliments.
The play ends and you stand up to applaud with everyone else then you ask to go grab something to eat with her alone but she quickly states that Soap wanted to treat her to dinner. You glare inwardly at his boldness. While he returns a smirk. You think about his odd name that you brushed past the first time you heard it, why did you ignore it the first time? You were usually very attentive to details and information.
You sigh knowing full well that you won't be able to dissuade her now he has his claws in her. So you relent for now thinking of an action plan to get rid of this leach even though you knew very little about him. He just gave you bad vibes and didn't quite understand it. Still trying to convince yourself he was just an odd human, someone you definitely didn't like. Someone who you should never get involved with. But you had to protect your sister. You just had too, something sinister was brewing. You could feel it and you needed help.
-
One month had passed since the incident, your sister had left with…with, what was his name again?.... Whatever it doesn't matter she had left with him to go to dinner while you tried enjoying the rest of the festival. But you couldn't calm your nerves for some reason and ended up leaving soon after. Just to make sure she was ok you sent her a text asking if she had gotten home safe later that evening. You were relieved when she responded by telling you all about the date they went on afterwards. Although you were happy for her there was a boulder in the pit of your stomach telling you to keep this man away from your dangerously naive sister. She's been a bit slow to respond since then for some reason causing you some anxiety, but try to rationalise and chalk it up to her being busy at work. Even though you would usually meet a couple times each month. She hasn't said anything else about that man….why can't you remember his name?....His features are difficult to recall now too…. You usually pride yourself about your retention of details. But it feels like a fog enters your brain when you try to think about him, how odd… But the one thing that hasn't left is your desire to protect your sister. Something isn't right with this situation. But considering she hasn't texted you fawning over him you might be paranoid for no reason. She probably decided she didn't like him all that much after all.
You put down your painting brush even before your alarm went off signaling you to take a break. It's been something you've been working on after your hospital incident. You weren't planning on working yourself into the ground. There needed to be a balance. Growing up an orphan you didn't have many people to care for you apart from your sister, your best friend and her grandmother that you visited often. So you would overwork yourself in academics and in your career to gain some sense of worth. Years of neglect had taken its toll on you, ending you up in the hospital in the intensive care unit for months. Only then did you realise the people you worked so hard for didn't give a flying fuck about you, you were so easily replaceable to them that they gave your projects to someone else who took credit for all your hard work. Not once did they come to see you, the only thing you received on your return was an office full of paperwork and a deadline to complete them by. You quit there and then only keeping in contact with the people who genuinely cared to visit you on your near death bed. Which were few and far between. From there after getting encouragement from your best friend and sister you decided to pursue your painting career again. And a bunch of others craft related hobbies.
It wasn't too hard considering you had a art college degree as well as having a couple years of work experience as a gallery curator. You had connections in the industry which you definitely used to further your career. Painting was your main focus from then on but you dabbled in other crafts including metalwork and pottery.
You found joy in the variety of work you could produce. This path in life felt more fulfilling and worthwhile in the long run. You enjoyed the spontaneity of your daily inspiration spikes. It kept things new and fresh to keep you engaged for longer periods of time without burning out or getting bored. You never forced yourself to work on something you didn't enjoy doing even if that meant stopping halfway because you know once you were up for it again the piece would be completed. So you had many unfinished projects just waiting patiently for you to come back to them, and eventually you will but you were never in a rush.
You stand up from your craft desk putting away your brushes and paints after cleaning them, glancing one last time at the large paintings you were commissioned to paint by the community council for the local library. Your back was stiff due to the prolonged sitting position you were in. You stretch on your way to the kitchen about to make yourself some herbal tea. You browse through your phone deciding to send your sister a text saying you'll be coming over to check in on her with dinner. She had a tendency to neglect herself when engrossed in work which you could relate to. You go to grab the jar with the tea only to realize it's empty. You let out a groan, jotting down on a piece of paper to visit your best friend with baked goods to buy more tea from her, not that she ever really lets you pay in cash so have to get creative. You stick it to the fridge while you go about preparing dinner and some snacks to bring her.
Everything was cooked and packed tightly you placed the food in your tote bag as you grabbed your phone, wallet and keys. Glancing one last time to see if you received a text back from your sister, which you hadn't. But that wasn't too unusual either. You had made her favourite dishes, hoping she would like them. You lock up as you leave, adjusting your Rowan tree branch hanging from the door of your condo.
Once you get to your sister's apartment you get buzzed in by the front desk since you visit so often. You knew the security guard and receptionists by name. They were very kind and sweet, just a bit odd at times but harmless.
"Evening Aodhán", you smile handing him a two wrapped homemade cookie,
"For your trouble, for looking out for my sister", you laugh jokingly "Ones for Ilayda"
Aodhán: "It's not raining Ilayda won't be working today", he says greeting you back
"Oh? I hadn't realised she only works on rainy days", you say confused
"Is Migina here? You can give it to her"
Aodhán: "Oh yeah she'll be here soon I'll let her know you left something nice to eat"
You say your farewells as you make your way up the stairs finding her apartment on the first floor. You knock and wait. Nothing happens, there's no noise from inside the apartment. You knock again harder this time checking your phone hoping you didn't just arrive when she wasn't home. You could always leave the food with Aobhán to give to your sister but that wasn't the problem, you had a nagging feeling you needed to get into her apartment right away. So you ring her number as you knock much harder this time probably disturbing her neighbors as you call out her name, not her real name of course. You use her childhood nickname 'Daisy'. Because she loved asking you for daisy crowns in summer.
Finally the door creaks but you aren't greeted by your sister, something with captivating ocean eyes has taken residence in her home. You look at him with your mouth agape confused as to why he's here.
"You!? Why are you here? Where is she!! What have you done to her!", panic sets in, your mind is racing with the worst possible scenarios. You push past him into the apartment frantically looking for her. Your arm is grabbed preventing you from going further in.
"Calm yer horses, ah haven't done anythin tae her lass", he says with an eerie calmness. "She's sleeping in her bed after writing all day. Ye should calm down, she needs her rest" he says in such a gentle voice it almost had you convinced he cared…. almost but you caught an insidious glint in his eyes for a quarter of second which sent your mind reeling.
You yank back your arms wondering what he's thinking. You don't bother responding to him as you eye him with skepticism. One glance around the place you can see she hasn't been taking care of herself. The apartment is messy, the dishes have piled up and papers are thrown everywhere. You go to look into the fridge and find it empty. You level this infuriating man with your worst glare. You place down your bag on the counter.
"Why are you here?" You say seething at him
"What dae ye mean? cannae ah come see mah lassie?", He says matter of factly. "Ah dinnae appreciate ye hissing at me. Ah haven't done anythin' tae ye…", It felt like he was about to say 'yet' but stopped himself. He looked at me like a fly who had come in to ruin his day by buzzing around his head.
"Since when? When did you two become so close? She hasn't said a word about you since the festival", You say trying to keep your voice calm and level not wanting to wake her up. Looking at him like he's some parasite, as you begin to tidy up the kitchen quietly.
"She's a grown lassie she doesn't need tae consult ye tae see someone, ye seem awfully nosy if ye ask me" he says losing his gentle voice completely to adopt a more rugged sound. Something that sits deep in his chest, causing your insides to churn for odd reasons. Your eyes meet his and for a second as you look back, you're very much frozen while the soapy dishes sit in your hands. You feel your blood run cold as his eyes flicker downwards towards your body. What was this man thinking!?
"Good thing I wasn't asking you then", you clap back trying to snap him out of whatever hedonistic thoughts he was having, praying you yourself wouldn't fall down that rabbit hole with how easily he could charm someone. But then again your sister was a bad example considering how gullible she could be. You continue to tidy up while deciding not to engage in a conversation with him anymore than necessary.
"How long has she been sleeping for?", you ask as you pick up her pages while setting them aside.
"Couldn't say, a while?" he shrugs nonchalantly leaning against the wall while watching you, no devouring your figure as it moves around cleaning.
You fix him to a glare not understanding why he was here, what purpose could he possibly serve doing nothing in your sister's apartment while it's in this sorry state, he didn't even offer to help you seethe.
You were more upset she kept it a secret that she was seeing him. Because if she had told you, you would have come over the same day to explain why that would be a very very bad idea. You just decide to ignore him for the rest of the cleaning which takes an hour before you decide to wake your sister up to get refreshed as you heat the food up for everyone.
Knocking on her bedroom door you enter to find her flopped onto her bed , sheets thrown around. You approach her gently as you call out her nickname to wake her up. Her face had dark circles and she looked exhausted, you've never seen her look so exhausted and overworked. After many attempts she finally wakes up groaning.
"Sis? What are you doing here?", she says rubbing her eyes
"I came to check in on you, you haven't been replying back to me properly I got worried and came here to drop off some food" you say kindly as she just nods saying she had gotten caught up in a new project and forgot to do much else apart from writing.
"Freshen up I'll get the food ready for us" ,you say before leaving the room to do just that. Not realising Soap was listening the whole time.
You set the table for three as Soap watches from the wall looking like a statue not saying anything too busy in his own thoughts, probably plotting something you think.
You reheat the food and refill the water jug, placing it on the table as your sister enters. Soaps demeanor changes drastically as she approaches. He goes towards her to show his concern for her wellbeing as she reassures him that she's okay, that she's just tired from overworking and that she's sorry she fell asleep while he was here to spend time with her. Where was this concern when the house needed cleaning? or when her fridge was empty? or when she hadn't probably eaten in days? You looked at him with venom which my sister noticed as she sat down beside me while soap stood by her side.
"It's not what it looks like", she whispers to you. "He was just here to help with my writing, I'll explain later". You just nod as you pour food for her and go to do the same for soap but he stops you.
"Oh ah wouldn't wantae intrude, ye twa enjoy yer meal", he says with sad voice kinda implying you had said something to upset him or make him feel unwelcome. Your sister looks at you for answers. While you just shake your head ignoring her look.
"It's not intruding at all, you've been such a great help to me for this past month, I couldn't even thank you enough even if I tried. Please sit down and have a meal with us. My sister is a wonderful cook. I'm sure she doesn't mind you joining, she even set you a place on the table" she says in her sweetest tone.
"Are ye sure, a'm feelin like I might owe ye later," he says sitting down beside her
"You don't owe me anything, this meal is given freely without strings attached", you say plainly trying to keep your hate at bay.
"Consider it a repayment for helping my sister for the past month", you quip while smiling innocently while you pour him the food. Your sister was too busy inhaling her meal to notice your comment. Which concerned you further, she looked starved.
You make small talk asking about what your sister has been doing that caused her apartment to be in the state you found it in. You reprimand her lightly telling her she needs to take care of herself better. Which she agreed to but said it was extremely difficult when she was in her 'writing zone' but promised to do better.
You tell her you'll go grocery shopping with her tomorrow since it was sunday and her kitchen was barren and she agreed. She complimented 'Soap' who's name you kept forgetting for some reason but tried desperately to remember it this time. She said he was a huge help since he worked as theater stage director at a point in his life and knew what looked good on stage and what didn't. He often came over to help her adjust her scenes or to just hang out which was why he was here today not for any other nefarious reasons she insisted. You simply nod along not saying much.
"My sister is just a little overprotective", she says smiling at him. "But she has my best intentions at heart" you smile slightly at her words while continuing to eat, not happy at this new friendship that was blooming between the two when you were certain he had ulterior motives.
"Hmm I can see that", he laughs while eating his food. He looked up at you as looked at him wondering if he was enjoying the food. You feel a blush creep up your neck as you look away quickly, your heart hammering as he chuckles at your odd bashfulness. You didn't understand why you were so drawn to him but you hated the fact you couldn't control your thoughts. Why did you care so much if he was enjoying your food or not!? You weren't usually like this…
"Ye weren't kidding when ye said she could cook", he complimented. "Ah haven't had such a crakin' meal in a while" he winks at you smiling which you ignore and say you appreciate it.
You tried many times to get to know Soap throughout the dinner but he gave vague answers that angered you further but you kept it within. He seemed to be enjoying your frustration. It almost seemed like he was trying to get a reaction out of you that wasn't complete hatred and mistrust. Your sister was oblivious to his antics which concerned you further. It seemed like she was in a daze and not her usual daydreaming daze. This felt different. But you couldn't explain how. You cleaned up the dishes after everyone was finished while thinking of a way to talk to your sister today or tomorrow about cutting off her new friendship. You had to do it in a way that wouldn't upset her since you knew she had trauma relating to losing friends. The last thing you wanted to do was upset her. You laid out the snacks for later if she wanted them and decided to put the rest of the food in the fridge. You start getting ready to leave since It was getting late and you'd be back tomorrow anyway to help with her groceries, you look at Soap to see if he was leaving too.
Maybe he felt your stare and decided to call it a day not wanting to face your wrath. He said his goodbyes and left before you did saying he greatly enjoyed the meal you provided. Your sister thanked him for all his help recently and apologized for falling asleep while talking to him. You tell your sister to take care of herself and to rest up and try to be more careful who she lets into her home so easily after Soap had left. She says she'll be more careful before giving you a tight hug as you make your way out of the apartment. You put a reminder on your phone to go grocery shopping tomorrow with your sister and to bake some desserts to bring to your best friend later that day. You write down a quick list of things you'll need as you walk down the stairs.
You say your farewells to Aobhán and Migina as you make your way out of the building towards your car in the moonlight parking lot. The air was chilly and there was an odd mist in the air. Wanting to get home as soon as possible you hasten your pace feeling the heat of your breath on your face. As you get to your car a cold ice hand grips you from behind pushing you against the car door. You feel a large body behind you as you begin to struggle but it wasn't producing any heat which was odd. But that was the least of your worries, you were pressed harder into the door until your movements stopped and you began to shout only for your mouth to be covered by a rugged hand. You felt disgusted by the man grinding his body on yours
You continue to put 110% of your energy into fighting off this attacker while trying to stay calm and collected. You put your keys between your knuckles and try to stab them backwards hoping to hit something which you do. He lets out a grunt beside your ear as he steps back slightly to gain his ground again. In that little time to turn around with your keys ready to attack again, your heart hammering thinking you might die here. The attacker grips his side where you had hurt him still growling as he knocks the keys out of your hands as he pins himself against you again. You finally get a glimpse at his moon lit face.
It was no one you recognised, his face was hard to describe as it seemed like it didn't have a consistent state. Every time you look away briefly while fighting him off if face slightly changed or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you in the dark. The face started contorting into a vile form the longer you stared, resembling a beast more than a man. It had large bulging eyes, thin hair balding on its head and warts forming on its face. You managed to throw him to the ground in blind rage as he tried to grab you more intimately. It almost felt you were drawing strength from somewhere other than yourself. You felt utterly disgusted, you kicked him hard in the groin for good measure. While backing up to call the police with your taser out now. But before you could do anything else, another figure stepped from the shadows and stepped on the man's neck as he struggled on the ground to breathe.
You look up to see smoke coming out of Soap's mouth as he flicks his cigarette at the man on the ground without saying anything. You were too shocked to move or do anything as you saw the pure unfiltered rage emanating from his body. His eyes once a beautiful ocean blue were almost black in comparison now. You see him step harder on the man's neck while saying something in a language you didn't understand, it sounded ancient. Like a forgotten battle song sung by your ancestors in times of turmoil. You watched in horror as you heard a snap and pop as the man's body goes limp on the ground before disintegrating before your very eyes. Everything you tried suppressing about the unseen, everything you tried so desperately to deny was crumbling.
You watch Soap approach you and your mind tells you to run, to get away. You might me next! But you couldn't move your legs, all you could do was clutch your heart for dear life. You close your eyes and wait…. The first thing you feel is his breath on your face, warm and bitter due to the tobacco. Next his rough hand on your chin tilting your head back gently.
"Look at me lass", he growls. You whimper and shake your head afraid of what you'll see.
"Come now, ah just wantae make sure yer alright", he changes tactics acting sweet but you could still feel his anger radiating off him.
You open your eyes slowly not wanting him to direct his rage toward you. His blue ones meet your teary ones and you see him smile.
"Ah there she is", he massages the side of your neck trying to comfort you, while you tremble under his touch.
"He didnae hurt ye noo did he? ", You shake your head at his question still afraid of what he was about to do.
"Good…good, ah wasn't expecting someone tae get tae ye first", his words cause your blood to run cold.
"Althoogh all ah was thinking about doin' was havin a word with ye", he smirked at your discomfort
"Ye see ah dinnae appreciate ye interfering with me prey especially one that was sae easy tae catch. Usually isolating thaim is fairly simple bit fur some reason ah cannae git ye tae comply. Ah might fin' ye a wee bit interesting but that doesn't mean ah will let ye ruin mah hard wirk"
You look at him shocked. You didn't expect him to just come out right and say he was planning to do something horrible to your sister. Suddenly all your fear dissipated and anger takes its place. You push him away roughly, while looking at him venomously before you speak.
"You stay away from my sister, or else" you hiss
"Or else what?", he laughs "What can a wee lassie like ye dae?"
"You don't want to see what lengths I would go to, to protect my family. I'll make you regret ever coming into my sister's life", you say with conviction.
"Let's see about that. Ah wonder if ye'll be able tae dae much when ye cannae remember anythin' ", before you could react you felt a tap to your forehead as everything faded into black.
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2023. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
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ma3mae · 8 months
Text
Pov: your dragon hubby gets some "help" to make ur wish come true (drabble)
(Nsfw below cut, mdni)
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"Impregnate her? How can you think you'd be up for that?"
A voice full of taunt spoke as your muffled whines and moans continued to fill the room, his tail tightening around your mouth and upper body at the other's words, the rough scales scrapping against your sensitive nipples while he kept you full with one dick in each of your holes.
He merely gave him a scornful look as he tried to focus on your body, his want to fulfill your wish never ceasing his thrusts into your tight holes.
"Too embarassed to even admit my purpose in being here to your beloved wife? If you'd rather want it to change to" mother of your children" then you'd only need to speak up."
His thrusts slowed down as the bed dipped infront of you, a bandaged hand tightly grasping your jaw, blurry eyes barely making out the silhouette of a familiar looking man and red eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light of the room inside the inn.
"The man you love is quite the fool for you if he's willing to call someone like me for help. Let's say my intrique couldn't keep me away so here I am."
Fingers digging into your hips from behind while the man freed his half hard member out of his pants.
"How does it feel to be soon indebted to me for the rest of your life?"
"Just shut up and get on with it. After that you'll be gone."
It was already enough that a reminder of him would be left for a lifetime. He didn't need the presence of the man himself as a form of tornment of his past.
Only a chuckle could be heard infront of you before you bucked into bandaged fingers on your clit.
"Loosen up if you want to be knocked up so badly like a whore."
Mind far too gone from the seemingly endless hours of being fucked, you could only nod at his words, not comprehending fully what was gonna happen.
Yet your body seemed to catch up quite well onto his words as you whined at the sensation of him slowly inserting a finger into your slicked pussy.
"What a slut. It hasn't been even an hour and she's so easily stuffed by you. Let's see how long it would take it to break her."
A hiss slipped out his mouth as he felt you tightening around his girth, the combination of mere bandaged fingers rubbing against him and your already tight core, making him gather his whole strength in not to finish just yet.
Moans began to erupt out of your mouth yet again as he began to use his tail to move you up and down like a cocksleeve while the man had begun to gather your cum with his dick on your pussy, continiously rubbing your while three fingers had already made it's way inside of you, the squelching sounds only growing louder with each passing second.
"Brace yourself, foolish woman or else you'll be gone in mere seconds." were his only words before you felt the delicious stretch of your pussy, making way for him to finally fulfill the purpose of his visit.
"Fuck, atleast your hole seems to be of divine quality. Just like a true vixen. Perhaps I might stay for a couple of days longer, hm?"
You felt his chest rumble against your back at the man's words yet their conversation never really made it's way to your mind as the man kept slowly pushing your insides out until he was finally fully in.
"'s-s too full." were your only slurred words before broken moans got caught in your throat, their weirdly synchronized movements nearly making you topple over if your lover's tail and the man' s grip on your waist wouldn't have been there to stabilize you.
"You can take us, my love. Just enjoy yourself. I'll make you a mama just like I promised."
You felt the other man's thrust suddenly pick up his pace.
"Then I'll be happy to engrave myself into her so you will never forget who had granted you your child."
He wrapped his bandaged hand around his tail, pulling it out of your mouth before pulling you into a rough kiss, your moans only fuelling both men's desire to fill you up to the brink.
You felt your core snap yet none of them ceased their movements, the tightening of your pretty pussy merely feeding into their needs.
Not even multiple creampies, lots of positions and the prolonged smell of sex could stop them.
Only the sight of large amounts of cum leaking out of every hole, would only make them continue on for days, the only break granted to you for sleeping and eating and yet it wouldn't be long until someone was inside of you again.
"Such a greedy little pussy only deserves to be knocked up. Wouldn't you agree?"
Eyes glistening like a forest darkened at his words, lust and want clouding his mind as he licked his lips at the sight of your marked, slicked with sweat and cum body.
"Yes. It truly does. Right, my love?"
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asumofwords · 10 months
Text
Smoke, Fire and Ash - Aemond POV
Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Aemond!POV, thoughts of violence, thoughts of murder, pregnancy, infidelity, talks of assault and descriptions of injuries.
This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.
Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)
Masterlist
Characters: Aemond!POV Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.
Note: Hello, hello.... I can hear the hisses again, and the cried of all of your therapists. Here is the second installment of Alys Rivers and our resident man baby Aemond. This is a POV for the recent chapters... Enjoy <3
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Harrenhal to Blood Spilt
Aemond Targaryen was a man of duty. 
Dutiful to his family, dutiful to the crown, dutiful to tradition. Whatever was asked of Aemond, he would do. Whatever was needed to be done, he would carry out without a word of protest. 
Aemond Targaryen was a man of duty.
He would go to the Sept with his mother as a child to pray, and would continue to go as he grew a man. He prays before each and every dinner, and asks for guidance and the Sevens blessings.
Aemond had not been to visit Alys Rivers for some time, sure he had been to Harrenhal, but his time had been spent elsewhere than between the legs of his lover. The Prince found he did not have the desire for it, and so when the King, his brother, had commanded him to return to Harrenhal, even after his most recent visit, he had been most irritated and almost perturbed. 
For Aemond did not want to leave the company of his wife.
His zaldrītsos. 
For you were beginning warm to him. Reciprocating. Trying.
She will always come back to you.
Aemond had spent so many years as a child going to the Sept, praying that you would return to him. Praying that you would fly to Kings Landing to see him. To apologise for leaving him. For abandoning him. For betraying him. And for the first few years of praying, he had promised himself that he would forgive you, and welcome you with open arms, for your bastard brothers had surely tainted your mind and heart against him of no fault of your own. 
But then, you hadn’t. 
You had not come back to him, you had not flown over the waters to Kings Landing upon Dragonback to return to him, you had not landed at the gates all fire and fury like he had grown to love, demanding to see him. And so all promises of forgiveness were forgotten, and the promises of justice were soon replaced with something more sinister. 
Aemond had waited for you, as a young boy, and had waited for you as a man grown. And now he finally had you, and did not want to let go. For in the short lived moments of happiness, if he could call them that, you shared together now, he saw glimpses of the young girl he loved. 
The young girl he knew. 
The girl who promised him rides upon Syndor’s back. The girl who promised to fly with him once he claimed his own dragon. And what a shame it was that the first time you flew together was him tearing you from the sky. Almost poetic.
You had always told him he would ride a most feared dragon.
How right you were.
It was not at all what he had planned. Imagined. Fantasised about. But the Gods were cruel, and worked in mysterious ways, and Alys had assured him that it was the only way for him to get you back. 
For you to come back to him.
And you had. 
And so he swore to the Seven that he would never let you out of his sight again. 
But then he did, his hand had been forced, and Aemond Targaryen went begrudgingly back to Harrenhal to seek out the menial tasks forced upon him by his King brother. And when he had arrived, he was surprised to find that there were in fact whispers of rebellion and support for his half-sister there. 
For three nights, and four days, Aemond had successfully avoided Alys Rivers, and dove into the work of following the trail whispers through Harrenhal and Riverrun, which was charred beyond recognition by his own Lady Wife. 
He had followed the hushed divulgence into taverns, homesteads and inns, and tore the heads from the bodies whose lips moved in favour of his whore half-sister Queen. His sword made quick work of up to seven men, though Aemond had not been counting, and simply sought to rid the heads from bodies before they had been confirmed as sympathisers to the Black cause. 
Aemond made quick work of it.
Anything, to get him back to you sooner. 
And then she had come to him. 
Aemond sat in the chambers left to him at Harrenhal, fireplace raging to keep the chambers warm in a Keep that seemed to be endlessly cold. A Keep that had endless halls, and chambers, and doors, all of which set an uneasy feeling in the Prince’s stomach. 
There was something wrong about Harrenhal. 
She had entered without knocking, as she always had, and Aemond had known it was her without even turning. 
He could smell her familiar scent as soon as she entered the chambers, footsteps carrying her across the room to stand beside him at the fire, as he sat in his chair. She smelt of roses and dusk, and the undertones of the sickly sweet smell of breast milk that lingered on her skin. 
Aemond turned his face to look up at his lover. 
Alys looked down at him knowingly, hair just as long and just as black as he remembered it to be. 
But she had gone through changes too. 
Her breasts were pushed up against the confines of her gown, swollen and pert. She was no longer dressed in maids robes, but instead, donned green dresses of fine silk he had made in Kings Landing to be sent to her. Her milky skin had a soft blush to it as she looked down at him, and the tops of her breasts had light blue veins running across them and down into her gown. 
One singular, slender hand rested upon the bump that had begun to grow within her. 
She was with child. 
His. 
“My dragon is conflicted.” Alys Rivers spoke, voice low and sultry, hand stilling on her stomach, “I have seen-“
“You have seen it. Yes, I know.” Aemond grumbled, “You see much and more. You see everything.”
“It does not take having The Sight to see that you miss her. That you love her deeply.”
Aemond hummed in irritation.
You had been so frightened when he had left. So small. So weak.
He needed to go back to you. 
Aemond shifted in his chair and moved his body forward, leaning his head against the swollen belly of Alys. She carded her fingers through his hair as she always did, nails scratching atop the skin of his scalp. 
“He grows with everyday.” She murmured, other hand cupping the underside of her stomach lovingly. 
Aemond pulled back and pressed a kiss to her pregnant stomach, huffing a small breath into the gown before sitting back up. His gaze trailed up her body, pausing at her breasts before stopping on her face.
Her eyes were dark and the chambers grew warm.
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
“I know.” She smiled, sitting down on the matching armchair opposite you, one hand on the arm to help lower herself into it slowly.
Aemond grunted. 
He hated that she saw things.
Hated that she was always one step ahead of him, guiding him to his future. At first it made him feel powerful, but now it made him feel more out of control than anything else. She always knew what was to come or happen. 
“She will need you when you return. Now more than ever. You must go to her.” Alys looked away from Aemond and into the fireplace, watching the flames dance. 
He watched the shadows of the fire pass over her face. 
“Why?” He had asked, uncertainty in his tone. 
Alys did not answer. 
Aemond could not sleep after Alys’ unfinished confession, telling him that she had not seen why, only that she sensed it. He had left Harrenhal, without finishing his duties there, the Black supporters be damned. There were too few of them to be any real threat, he reasoned.
The ride back to King’s Landing had not gone fast enough, though Vhagar was mighty and large, she still flew heavily through the sky. At a pace the Prince wished would hurry. But soon night turned to day, and the sun began to rise in the sky.
Aemond watched as the oceans horizon came to view, and the beaches down by the Red Keep sprawled for miles on end. The sun glittered beautifully upon the soft waves that moved up the shore. 
When Aemond swooped over the coast and across the water, making his way to the Red Keep from the back, he saw flames. 
Large plumes of fire jetting up in the air at random, with no direction of where it landed, or was aimed. The closer he got, the larger the flames became, from once being the size of a glowing candlelight, to now being taller than the highest tower in Maegor’s Holdfast. 
There, down on the sandy shore of Kings Landings beaches, stood the Bronze Fury, all bronze, and all fury, shrieking into the air as flames rose higher and higher. The sand around him had been melted to black blobs of dragon glass which shimmered in the sun.
Something was wrong. 
You must go to her.
Fear pulled through Aemond as he swooped Vhagar down towards the entrance to the Dragon Pit, her body too large to go inside. He had slid down off of her back, boots hitting the dirt floor with a thud as he landed on bent knees. 
And then he was off.
Racing up through the Dragon Pit, long legs carrying him up the stairs two at a time. When the Prince emerged from the Pit and began to make his way to his shared chambers, to you, his mother had rounded a corner he was coming to. 
Her arms were thrust forward as she moved to grab him, catching his elbows as she always did, eyes dancing with fear as she looked up at her tall son. Ser Cole stood beside her, out of breath, as though he had run to collect her. 
Something was wrong. 
“Aemond, wh-“
“What’s happened?” He interrupted the Dowager Queen, voice coming out with heaving breaths as sweat slid down his back. 
“You mus-“
Something was wrong. 
Aemond pushed past his mother, breaking himself from her grip and narrowly dodged Ser Cole's as he ran faster than he ever had, through the Keep and up to his Wing of the castle. 
Something was wrong. 
Zaldrītsos.
His heart thumped in his chest, blood rushing in his ears as he slid into the corridor that was his and up towards the door, where the Knight had opened his mouth, as though to stop him. 
But Aemond’s hand had snatched the handle of the door and burst through without a second thought. 
His only thought, was you. 
Aemond did not know what he was expecting to find when he entered the chambers, but he had certainly not been expecting to see what he did.
There you sat, deep in the tub by the fire, hair knotted and greasy, body frail and pale, head flicking over your shoulder to look at him, eyes wide and darkened beneath. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at you, and felt nausea roll through him.
You had sobbed. ‘Kepus’ falling from your lips as your eyes welled with tears, sliding down hollow cheeks, down to your neck. 
Your neck.  
Covered in the bruises from rough hands. 
Aemond sped to your side, dropping to his knees, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his legs as his bones connected with the stones. His eye searched your face as it slid down to your neck, his large hands coming to hold your cheeks.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
You had flinched at his hands as they came to touch you, and another sob broke free from the lips he loved to kiss, loved to touch, loved to fuck. Lips that laughed, and yelled, and cursed, and smiled and sneered at him. 
Yet when he held you, you let him.
You let him touch your cheeks as he looked you over, eye pausing on the dark bruises around your neck. 
Something was wrong.
Aemond’s gaze darkened and the grip on your cheeks tightened.
Him. 
It was him.
His brother. 
Aegon. 
Aegon had done this.
He had touched you.
Aemond remembered times where Helaena would flee to his chambers like this. Body bruised, eyes wet with tears, and frame shaking, and Aemond could do nothing.
Aemond could say nothing. 
Aemond felt despair.
“You left me with him.” You had cried.
Left me with him. 
She thinks this is my doing. 
She thinks I am like him. 
She thinks I-
He touched her. 
He touched my wife. 
My zaldrītsos. 
Mine. 
“You knew what he would do. You know what he does.” 
And Aemond did know.
He knew everything.
Everything that his brother does. And what he had done. Aemond knew all too well. Helaena, the servants, the fighting pits. But Aemond had thought that perhaps his brother would not cross the invisible line that lay between the two. 
A line which the King had no apparent care for. 
Aemond tried to steady his breathing, the first thought in his mind at that moment was to storm to the Kings chambers and remove his brothers head with the sword that had removed so many other mens before him. 
Aemond wished to hurt him. 
Aemond wished to kill him.
For what he had done to you. 
“You let him. He was inside me.” You hissed at him, anger bubbling up through you.
His little dragon.
“Where were you? Where were you? Where were you?” Your voice crackled and broke, pain overtaking your senses. 
Where was he?
Out doing my brothers duties. 
Sent away so that he could have you. 
Sent away so that he could take from me again. 
Sent away so that he could do as he pleases, as he always has, and I will have to pick up the pieces again, as I always have had to do.
As Aemond's thumbs brushed against your cheeks, he struggled to keep himself composed, keep himself calm, for you. But all his instincts did, was scream to end the life of his oldest brother, the King. Be done with it. Kinslaying be damned. He was already a Kinslayer, he was already cursed.
What was another murder? 
What was another name to add to his list of sins?
But watching the way you crumpled in his hold, the way you had grown thin, the way your eyes were darkened and red with tears, the way you were bruised along your neck and arms, the way your throat rasped with every breath or word. 
Aemond knew he had to stay by your side. 
Aemond knew that you needed him.
She will need you. Now more than ever.
You needed him. 
And Aemond needed you in that moment too.
To ground him.
To stop him from doing something stupid. 
To stop him from murder. 
And so he stayed, and held onto you and let you cry, as he stewed in the flames of hot rage that licked at his bones and flesh. Not once had Aemond fought his rage before, but for you?
He would do anything.
Aemond Targaryen was a man of duty.
Dutiful to his wife, tradition, and his family.
But the blood of his wife ran thicker than the water of the womb he shared with Aegon.
Aemond Targaryen was a dutiful man, dedicated to his wife, the crown, and his duty as a Prince.
But a tide was shifting in Aemond where he could not resist the pull.
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Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3
Tag List:
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Bold is who I cannot tag!
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awyeahitssam · 2 months
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My Writing Masterlist
Since I post on here far more consistently then on ao3 for reasons, I figured I would compile a list of my writing for those who don't like sifting through fandoms they could care less about to get to the good stuff. 
Separated by fandom, and somewhat by trope. 
Harry Potter:
Harry eats a God. 
Harry just can't seem to stay dead. TW: Suicide, character death, frequent character death, torture, murder, disjointed snippets, discontinued + Harry dissociates. Connected, same warnings may apply. 
First Encounters: Time loop, Voldemort-as-Quirrell visits the Dursleys and is less than pleased. 
First Encounters: The first time Harry meets Voldemort, the man he's been trained to kill all his life, he's nineteen, and Voldemort recognizes him. 
Prisoner Harry tells Voldemort about the Dursleys like it's a bedtime story. 
Except for the incident, Harry really doesn't tend to talk a lot when he has a concussion. Stream of thought narrative, character injury.
Literally just Empath!Harry spoilers. Harry, at his trial, allowing himself be petty to an extent. 
Harry gets drunk, pulled into Voldemort's mind, and decides he wants to share his good mood.
Tea shop AU.  + more  Tea Shop (weather) AU. + something actually Tea-based under the cut
Four of a Kind AU: Learning to kiss split-scene. Harry/Harry, referenced Harry/Horcrux + They meet. They kiss. What if. Voldemort/Harry + In the aftermath Voldemort/Harry
Kid Fic: Harry ‘dies’ as a child. Mentor!Voldemort, absolutely not a pairing ficlet. 
Kid Fic: Harry and Voldemort’s kid lands in the past during a duel at the Ministry. Pre-Harrymort, Micah, not quite the kiss you'd expect.
Female Harry, world-jumping, rationally angry. Tom/Harry intended, if Harry will chill out on the murder. 
Harry likes to feel pretty. Horcrux/Harry, Harry wears makeup, etc. 
Tom and Harry jump through time to each other. Tomarry, growing up, fluff, brief kissing, Harry’s older
Dragon AU, I have a lot more of this one written, I should dump that some day. Harry/Horcruxes
Harry/Tom: pillow forts, soft angst, unresolved, broken promises
Harry's really fucking sick and tired of being told what the fuck to do. 
Tom-after-Voldemort is the first person Harry has ever spoken to. Isolation, lighthearted, odd, old and forgotten. 
Harry never imagines the effect getting a boyfriend would have on Riddle. Jealous Tom. 
Harry messes with Diary!Tom
Harry and Voldemort have to complete a task based on the colour of the others' robes, for some reason?
Harry is kidnapped and wakes up in an incredibly comfortable bed. Voldemorts knows Harry is his horcrux.
Harry ruthlessly defends Hogwarts against encroaching Death Eaters. Sixth Year.
It's one paragraph guys.
Prompt-based: Tom possesses Harry when he's afraid. Hermione POV.
Prompt-based: Santa forgot about Harry, again.
Prompt-based: Tom watches Harry draw dirty, dirty things at church.
Teen Wolf, all at least peripherally intended as Stiles/Peter
Kid Fic + Genderbend + Time Travel: Stiles is in the past and nobody is raising Malia, so she sure as shit will.
Stiles has known about werewolves since he was nine, and now that he's off the college it seems his dad has gottten involved. No Hale Fire, Protective Stiles
The first thing Kate does when she comes back to Beacon Hills is kidnap Peter. Human!Alpha Stiles, eventual Steter, pre-slash
Stiles has the curse of obedience. Stiles/Peter
Flower shop AU! Ft. Petty Peter and insulting bouquets.
Peter says he hates Stiles. Stiles begs to differ. 
Werewolf Stiles wakes up in the middle of Beacon Hills woods naked, and tries to keep it low key from there. Bakery AU, kinda. Peter/Stiles
First Encounters: The Hale pack summons Stiles to the past. 
First Encounters: The first time Stiles meets Peter he is drunk. Stiles is a rude, very straight-forward drunk who steps all over issues like dead family and psychosis. It’s like he had a minefield map and is intentionally stepping on every trigger. 
Stiles meets Peter in the hospital.
Stiles pulls back because he doesn't want Peter to mess up his dress shirt, not because he doesn't want the bite. 
Stiles crochets magic shit. Fluff. 
Negotiations go well. 
Peter being the literal worst, holy hell, this hurts to read. Have some angst. Past-Stiles/Peter
Okay, my bad for that last one. Have some comfort. Crying, comfort, Stiles & Peter
Dragon Stiles is constantly underestimated. 
Stiles beats Peter, sore loser extraordinaire. 
Me acting like Stiles has shame for some reason.
Female Stiles gets forcibly genderbent and is not putting up with anybody's shit. Body dysmorphia, shitty friends, anger issues, sexism. Peter/Stiles
Female Stiles and Peter. Shower, soft.
Stiles writes smutty fanfic, as he should. 
Stiles being a bad influence on his little self, ft Knowing Himself Too Fucking Well. Time travel AU, torture
Peter walks away. 
Peter/Stiles, marking, one of the sexiest things I've ever written imo 
Peter is dumb, stupid, silly villain. 
Peter’s timing is about as good as Stiles’ filter. Dumb, stupid villain antics. 
Stiles threatens Peter, /lh
Stiles is justifiably sad after a movie. 
Tony Stark-centric:
Gen: Tony takes after Maria. Few people recognize a predator wrapped up in such Tony packaging. 
Gen: Tony bantering with, and teasing, Peter. 
Tony Stark uses the infinity stones. 
Tony survives the stones. 
Tony proposes. In public. In a way that undeniably affirms his feelings. Loki/Tony
Loki meets Morgan for the first time. Loki/Tony, kid fic
Hair Kink—I mean braiding! Aha, ha, ha… Loki/Tony
Female Toni doesn't take well to her children being threatened. 
Soulmates? Tony/Loki
Rhodey gives Loki the shovel talk ft. Parks & Rec
Tony saves the day…?
Bleach / Time travel: Ichigo isn't supposed to be here. 
The 100: Cage Wallace stages a coup before the forty-eight arrive. (Or: Dante Wallace dies before his time.) This changes everything.
Tagged: 10 Characters, 10 Fandoms, 10 Shorts
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brittle-doughie · 8 months
Note
correct me if im wrong but the interactions with her counterpart in romance kingdom kinda give the impression that white lily would be obsessive towards the player
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Pov: You’re Y/N Cookie and she wants your child
I had a feeling this was about the Romance Kingdom White Lily (or Lily White in this case)! Some of the lines she has near the end of her route really does give off the implication that if you give her enough attention, she gets especially attached to you to the point that she’ll even reset the timeline just to see you again
“Okay... You better keep that promise! If not, I'll just reset the timeline to see you again.”
This version of White Lily is one of the main motivations for the “Crazy Lily” version of her that you’re all pretty well acquainted about at this point if you’re an avid reader on my blog.
It’s also the fact that she’s an extremist when it comes to attaining her goals like delving into forbidden Dark Moon Magic or even making a deal with Pitaya Dragon Cookie to be granted the source of life, to teach her Dragontongue. It’s not out of the realm of possibility to guess that if her objective was you that she’s willing to go to extremes if she must to make sure she has you in her embrace.
I carry this version of her in some other stuff. In the Cult AU, she’s the unofficial leader of the group.
In the Self-Aware AU, she can and WILL break the game to get to you if she detects you on it. Your only warning will be messages in your mail.
Tidbit: Her using white lilies as her method of attack is based on the fact that it’s stated that there’s a intoxicating aroma from lilies.
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profound-imagination · 9 months
Text
Memories - Azriel (Cassian's POV)
In which Cassian recalls how Azriel knows that Cassian would feel it in his chest if Nesta had died in the Rite.
A/N: Just a little something that was in my head. Does this count as Angst? I think it does! I've taken some liberties with the battle in ACOWAR.
W/C: 1K
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"You'd know if she'd died," Azriel said, pausing his work and looking up at Cassian. He tapped his brother's chest with a scarred hand. "Right here - you'd know, Cass." Cassian let out a breath at the Shadowsinger's words. In his fury, in his dread, his worry over Nesta and Feyre and Rhys he'd almost forgotten how Azriel would know that. At his brother's words he was taken back to that fateful day just over a year ago.
Cassian stood on the battlements of the crumbling castle with his brothers. The three of them were bloodied and bruised. Rhys drained almost all of his power in their last stand. "We can't win this." Feyre half sobbed into Rhys' shoulder, clinging to her mate, savoring what she thought were their last moments together. Both of their eyes unfocused and Cassian knew they were saying their goodbyes. He felt more than saw Azriel tense next to him, he knew who Azriel was looking for, his mate who he hadn't seen since their argument the night before over Elain.
Nesta was next to him. If this was his final moments, he was glad she was here, he'd go down before her, he'd go down for her. Nesta gasped and the entire family turned to look at her, she lifted a shaking finger and pointed to the field, empty of the living, both sides having pulled back for a brief reprieve. "Who is that?" Nesta whispered. Something was approaching in the sky, it was bigger than any creature Cassian knew and as it got closer he could see someone was riding atop it.
He saw the talons and scales first. Then he smelt death, fire and brimstone as it flew directly towards them. "It's not possible." Rhys breathed. "It can't be." Amren murmured back to the High Lord. "They went extinct a millennia ago." Sweet Elain let go of Nesta's hand, took a step forward and breathed one word. "Dragon."
Azriel had gone completely still next to him, Cassian knew his brother had figured out who was atop the beast flying for them. He looked to Rhys, who met his eyes and joined Cassian in flanking their brother, they knew what was coming before it came.
The murmuring of the armies behind them grew restless and the energy nervous as three other dragons flanked her. All smaller than the one she rode but Cassian knew he wouldn't want to face any of them as he finally saw the beast up close. Azriel's mate hovering In front of them all. Azriel took a step forward, breathing her name in a plea. Wordlessly, Cassian and his brother both placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder, ready to act when they needed to, Feyre also ready to keep Azriel with them. The beast let out a grumble from deep in its chest, a sound that promised death Cassian thought.
She smiled at Azriel then, wild and feral, Cassian knew it was his brother's favourite. "Live, Azriel." She said and turned to Elain, "Look after him Seer, keep him safe. Don't let him destroy himself." He and Rhys tightened their grip on their brother as Azriel realised her plan and started to pull away from them. Cassian had never heard Azriel sound as broken as he did when he repeated her name. "You found me, Az, living like a wildling in the Middle, you gave me a life and taught me everything, now you must live. My friends and I will buy you the chance to do that." A single tear ran down her face. His little wildling is what Azriel called her, Cassian recalled. "Let's go." She spoke quietly to the beast, she took one last look at Azriel who was fighting to get to her now. "I love you, Azriel." And she was gone, flying towards death on the back of a beast that shouldn't exist.
They watched it happen, Rhys had one of Azriel's arms, he had the other. Varian had helped them restrain him, it was the first and only time Azriel nearly broke both of their holds on him. They watched the smaller dragons fall first, having taken massive parts of Hybern with them. Azriel's knees gave out when she finally went down, then he began to scream. Cassian had never heard a sound like it, not from his brother, not from anyone. Azriel lost all fight then as he collapsed, Mor was there instantly, cradling him like a babe, Elain nearby, Feyre doing her best to offer soothing words. Azriel clawed at his chest as the bond faded, then the pain of it took his consciousness completely.
She'd done what she had promised she'd do and she'd bought them a chance, they formed the lines one final time, Amren and Feyre going for the cauldron. Mor had winnowed Azriel and Elain back to camp and left them there and she returned to join the lines. Rhys gave them one last command before they advanced. "Bring her home. Prythians savior deserves to rest at home."
Cassian came back to the present to find Azriel giving him a knowing look, as if his brother knew what he'd just re-lived. Neither brother said anything for a moment and then Cassian asked, "How do you do it? Go on?" Azriel stopped sharpening Truth Teller and sheathed it at his thigh, "Because Rhys commanded me too." Cassian hadn't known that. "I still see her every night, re-live that last argument and I watch her die, feel her die." Cassian had no words for his brother. "Nesta will not meet the same fate." Azriel told him.
Cassian threw himself at his brother and Azriel allowed a rare hug. He needed Azriel to know he was sorry for his loss, needed him to know that he was so thankful everyday that he was still here and needed to thank him for his words and reassurance but he couldn't find the words, so he held his brother instead and sent a prayer to the Mother for Nesta, for Emerie and Gywn and finally for his brother, that he might know love again one day when he was ready.
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Tags: @bubybubsters
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littlethingsinlife · 1 year
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i'm sorry (happier part 2)
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A/N: I was not expecting the amount of positive feedback for the first part and I was even more surprised to see people asking for a part 2! It was originally created to be a one-shot but a part 2 really fit well with how the first one ended. Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you again for all of the love and support! I hope you all enjoy. I also want to thank my friend, @tummymoth, they really helped me flush out and refine my rusty ass writing (also let me word vomit at them till midnight sometimes).
Pairing(s): Past Lo’ak x Omatikayan!Reader, Ao’nung x Omatikayan!Reader, Slight mentions of Lo’ak x Tsireya
Warnings: Lo'ak's POV, Swearing, Ao'nung saying something sus ONE time
More Info: My vision for this part 2 was to create a reply in Lo'ak's pov. So we'll have a look at what he experienced and thought process (not too sure if any of that made sense) but I was inspired by Joshua Bassett's song "i'm sorry" and it played constantly as I wrote this. Hopefully I was able to do right by my idea haha.
Summary: 7,547
Part 1: Happier
Key:
(Y/N) = Your Name 
Lyrics = Bolded Italics 
Flashbacks = Italics
Na'vi Words:
Yuey - beautiful (refers to a person) 
Skxawng - idiot/moron
Marui - Pods where the Na’vi live
Ilu - sea creature similar to dolphins
Ikran - dragon-like creature 
Tulkun - sentient creatures similar to whales
Olo’eyktan - clan leader/ chief
I thought about what I would say
But I’m two years too late
I can’t imagine how you’re doing these days, hmm
Sure, it wasn’t perfect back then
I’ll be first to admit
But it was better than being strangers again, oh
It had been a couple of months since my interactions with (Y/N) dwindled to terse smiles and barely audible greetings. If you asked me to point out the moment our friendship started to change, I couldn’t tell you. When did our bond start to break? When did it even start to crack? We used to talk every day about all the things we did and planned what pranks to pull on everyone, but now? Now, she barely looked in my direction. Now, she wouldn’t even give me the time of day. 
I couldn’t remember when it started, but I knew that it was somehow my fault I grew distant once we arrived in Awa'atlu. I guess I was just so fascinated by the new environment and people, I didn’t even realize a rift started to form between us in the first place, much less that it started to grow. 
The night before we left to find a new home, I held (Y/N) as she let out sobs filled with fear and anxiety. It broke my heart, but all I could do was hold her and let her cry until she was calm enough to tell me what was on her mind. 
“I-I am afraid, what if the sky people come to find us again? I cannot lose any of you; it would break me into a million pieces,” she sobbed. 
“If they find us then we will fight and we will win,” I reassured her, gently rocking her back and forth. 
“You are an idiot, I was so close to losing you, to losing Kiri, Tuk, how do you think it would make me feel to lose the most important people in my life?” she sniffled. My chest ached at how broken she sounded, but the only thing I could do was assure her and offer her more words of comfort as I held her in my arms. 
“I promise that I will be with you throughout the journey as will my family. We love you, and even if you do not believe it, you are a Sully. And you know what my dad always says.” 
“Sullys stick together,” we chorused.
That night, I cradled her in my arms until she fell asleep. 
Fuck, I completely broke my promise to her, how could I forget? Shaking my head, I tried to reason to myself, “Maybe she just needs time alone. I’m sure she’ll come running back soon once she realizes that it's no fun without me, her best friend.” I felt a small, unfamiliar feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Right?” 
I’m drunk too late talking to the moon
Writing songs I can’t sing to you, ‘cause
“Bah! Stop lying, I know you (Y/N). You would have fought alongside me and defended Kiri. You are not the same girl I knew in the forest back home,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and getting up to leave. Honestly, who did she think she was fooling? The skxawng had the balls to insult Kiri, and all she did was sit back and watch. She didn’t even make a move to help until it was to help him by pulling me off. “Talk to me when you’ve come back to your senses,” I called over my shoulder, refusing to look back. 
“Lo’ak! Bro—” a hand roughly grabbed my shoulder, jolting me out of my daze, “why’re you just staring off like that?” I whipped my head to see who the hell it was that was bothering me, only to be met with Neteyam.
“Did you have to grab me that hard?” I hissed before my initial anger gave way to a heavy feeling. “It's nothing, just—just lost in thought” I sighed, shrugging his hand off my shoulder. 
“Right, sure, nothing.” he crouched down beside me. “Don’t think you can lie to me lil bro, you’ve been spacing out more than you usually do. I didn’t even think it was possible to be more empty-headed than you already are,” he stated. 
“Wha—no I haven’t,” I tried to argue, but of course, he wasn’t convinced. 
“Can you stop arguing with me for once and just tell me what’s going on with you, you skxawng?” 
I scrunched my nose in distaste and inhaled sharply, “(Y/N) and I have been…  distant,” I admitted, turning to look at him. “She won’t even look at me. She either only answers me with one word or doesn’t answer at all.” 
He nodded, motioning for me to continue. 
“I—the last time we talked, I said things I didn’t mean. Things that just came out because I was so frustrated and… and angry. It was the heat of the moment and I—” 
“What did you say skxawng, did you hurt her?” Neteyam interrupted, face twisting to show the beginnings of distaste.
“No, no—” I sputtered and raised my hands to calm him before he could go on an hour-long lecture that I absolutely was not in the mood to hear. “At least I don’t think I did… I just wanted to ask her why the hell she was helping fish lips, that’s all—” 
“You didn’t answer me Lo’ak, what did you say to (Y/N)? I don’t care why you did it, I want to know what you said to elicit such a reaction from her.” By Eywa, if he would just give me a chance to get to the point—
“I—I told her that she was not the same girl that I knew back in the forest..." my ears lowered as the weight of what I said slowly sunk in. “And that she could talk to me once she came back to her senses,” I whispered, internally cringing at my harsh words.. 
“You fucking skxawng—” 
“Can you stop calling me that? I already know, you don’t need to keep repeating it…” I scoffed, looking out into the ocean. I’m good enough at beating myself up over the hundreds of times I’ve messed up in this lifetime, I didn’t need another disappointed set of eyes on me.
My ears twitched at the deep sigh he let out. “Look, I’m sorry that I keep calling you skxawng but that is exactly what you are for saying something so hurtful to your best friend of all people. The two of you were inseparable the moment you were born. Even if you don’t want to, suck up your dumbass pride,” my ears flattened again. It wasn’t pride, I’m not prideful. It—it was me needing (Y/N) on my side. We used to always be on the same page, and when she said I was wrong for wanting to defend Kiri against those assholes, it felt like she was siding with them instead of me, and—
Okay, so maybe it was pride.
  “Admit that you were wrong, and go talk to (Y/N),” Neteyam insisted as he put a reassuring arm around my shoulders, jostling me around to prove a point. “Your friendship is so much stronger and Eywa knows that a heat-of-the-moment argument isn’t going to break that. You should have more faith in her.” His gaze sharpened before he schooled his expression into something calmer. “Just talk to her, yeah?” 
“...Yeah,” I mumbled, swallowing down whatever argument was trying to bubble up from my throat and prying his arm off me. “You’re right. I’ll just clear things up with her and apologize. Everything will go back to normal after that, thanks bro—for listening,” I agreed. 
Ever since that day
The things I didn’t say They haunt me, oh
And I know that I’m to blame 
So, go ahead and 
Blame it on me, oh
Our lessons on the ways of the Metkayina were finished, so it was rare for the entire group to be in the same place. But every once in a while, we all finished our chores at the same time and found ourselves near the shore where we first learned to ride the ilu, and sat around a fire hours before eclipse, laughing and exchanging stories. 
The rarity of these moments made me cherish them that much more, but two people continued to miss our not-so-scheduled gatherings the past two moon cycles. How was it possible that they were the only two to keep missing our hangouts? Were they together? Fish lips had better not be doing anything to (Y/N) or so hel—
“(Y/N)! Ao’nung! You guys made it!” Rotxo laughed. 
“Yeah, yeah, quit shouting will you?” Ao’nung shot back as he sat down next to Rotxo, (Y/N) smiling softly as she followed. 
“So, what’ve you guys been up to? We haven’t seen you in what feels like ten moon cycles.” Neteyam questioned.
“Teyam, you saw me earlier today, you literally helped me feed our ikran,” (Y/N) joked. ‘Teyam? When did she start calling him by anything other than his given name?
Ao’nung swatted her side with his stupidly wide tail and swung an arm around her shoulder with a remarkably punchable smile on his face “More like he was trying to make sure you didn’t accidentally give them your fingers for breakfast. They would’ve gotten indigestion.”
“Haha very funny Ao’nung,” she drawled, “I would’ve fed you to Tekay instead, but she would’ve gagged the moment she caught a whiff of you,” she scoffed as she quickly pushed him away by the chest.
“Wait… Do they even have a gag reflex?” Fish lips didn’t budge, he just had a dumb look of confusion on his face.
“No, but they would defy the laws of biology to gag just for you,” she quipped, sticking out her tongue and moving to push him away again, but the skxawng had the nerve to pull her into a headlock. 
“Oh, yuey, the ikran won’t be the only ones gagging on me tonight,” he argued with a smirk. 
Did I want to punch that smirk off his face? Did I want to gag? Both? Before I could make a decision, (Y/N) grimaced, pushing him away again and smacking him upside the head. 
“That’s actually repulsive. You’re disgusting.”
“Dude, keep it in your pants, her family is right there,” Rotxo laughed, doubled over as he struggled to catch his breath.
“Yeah, we’re right here,” I interjected with a smile—wanting to join in on the jokes that were being thrown around—but it was hard to keep my face from falling when I saw (Y/N)’s bright expression falter. 
“Anyway, what were you guys talking about before Ao’nung and I arrived?” she asked in a too-bright tone of voice she only used when she desperately wanted to change the subject. As if everyone came to an unspoken agreement to forget about the conversation before, one by one they all started talking about who they thought would win in a fight—Toruk Makto, or our Olo’eyktan, Tonowari. 
The sound of laughter and excited chatter faded as I replayed the previous conversation in my head. When did they start joking around like that? Why the hell did fish lips call her yuey like it was the most natural thing in the world? How come she smiled so easily with him but faltered when she sees me? She was probably smiling with him right now—
I looked over at her, a pit in my stomach already forming at the idea of her smiling at him, but she looked so distant, so withdrawn from everything around her. Before I could even blink, she put a delicate hand on Ao’nung’s arm to grab his attention and mumbled something in a hushed tone. After a few beats of silent conversation, Ao’nung nodded and gave her a look of understanding. 
Why did he look at her like that? How much time did they spend together to be able to understand each other with just a look? How much time have I wasted breaking my promise to her while she grew closer to someone else? 
 Standing up, I made up my mind that I would talk to her and clear up any miscommunication. There was no way in hell I was about to let fish lips ruin our childhood friendship. Before I could even get close, Neteyam pulled me aside. 
“Bro, why’re you glaring at everyone?” he asked with concern written all over his face.
“Glaring?” I tilted my head in confusion. “I’m not glaring, this is just my face.” 
“No, no.” He shook his head. “I’m your brother, I know your face. Whatever look you’ve been throwing at Ao’nung and (Y/N)? You may as well have been throwing knives at them.”
Behind Neteyam, I could see (Y/N) get up to bid everyone good night and slowly walk in our direction. This was my chance, I just needed this overbearing idiot to leave me alone. 
“Whatever look you think I’m giving to them, you’re wrong,” I denied. “Can you not act like this right now?” My tail flicked side to side impatiently, an obvious twinge of annoyance clear in my tone. I licked my lips nervously as I could hear footsteps coming closer. Leaning slightly to the side, I looked behind Neteyam to see (Y/N) and—
Ao’nung? What? Why is he there? 
“Good night,” (Y/N) muttered, not sparing us a glance as she walked past. I followed her every move and—as if everything slowed down—my eyes narrowed as they found Ao’nung’s hand placed on her lower back, leading her gently in the direction of the marui. 
I know that I’m too late
But I’ll say it anyway
I’m sorry 
I’m sorry 
I’m sorry 
Though it's far too late
“I did it! Did you see that Reya?” I shouted—out of breath—as I showed off the shell Tsireya threw. 
“Yes, yes you did it!” She exclaimed, excitedly wrapping her hand around mine. For someone who spent so much time underwater, her hand radiated so much warmth. So easy to hold. My heart swelled with pride as she continued to compliment me. “You’ve improved so much!”
“Yeah? Well, I had a great teacher,” I joked, nudging her softly with my shoulder. It wasn’t just her hands that were warm either, she just seemed to radiate it.
“Oh stop, you flatter me too much,” she denied, fidgeting with her hair. Was that a blush on her face? “C’mon, why don’t we catch up with the others? Private lessons are officially done for the day,” she announced as she led me to shore. Oh Eywa, she looked so pretty like this, with her hair flowing down her back and the way her eyes cast down when she became flustered. And her smile, it was a smile that could knock the air out of my lungs.
While we walked onto shore, we joked around and laughed with each other, talking about anything and everything. The ease of each reply and joke came as smoothly as gliding through the water on an ilu—as easy as breathing. Laughing at another one of Tsireya’s jokes, my eyes scanned the village as we approached it. Families were winding down for the day as they cooked dinner, although I didn’t see mine anywhere nearby aside from Kiri. 
My smile slowly dropped when I was able to make out Kiri looking frantically around as if she was searching for someone. Tsireya and I made our way to her, worry filling the pit in my stomach. As we got closer, I could see Ao’nung climb down one of the roots of the Mangrove trees and make a beeline toward her. My eyes stayed on both of them, making sure that fish lips didn’t do anything to Kiri. 
Ears twitching I was able to make out the words, “(Y/N)? Did you find her? ” from Kiri as they were carried on the wind toward us.
“Yeah I did, I was able to get her to eat, but she’s not looking too good,” Ao’nung replied with concern lacing his voice.
Brows furrowing, I pulled Ao’nung by the shoulder. “What do you mean she’s not looking good? Where is she? What did you do?” 
“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t do shit, freak.” I rolled my eyes at the insult. He couldn’t use that thick head of his to think of anything else to call me? From the pained look on his face, I could tell that my grip on his shoulder had too much pressure. Good. Served him right.
Before Ao’nung and I could continue our argument Kiri groaned, “Will the both of you skxawng shut up! I’ll go talk to her.” My eyes followed her retreating form as she went to talk to (Y/N)—tail lashing back and forth in agitation all the while—before turning back to Ao’nung.
Who the hell did he think he was? I’d beat his skxawng ass if he hurt (Y/N) in any way. He had no right to look so damn worried. They weren’t even close. What even happened? How long had she been missing for Kiri to go to fish lips of all people for help? Should I follow Kiri? Why didn’t (Y/N) come to me? She always came to me, and if she came to me now, I absolutely would have listened. Why—
“Lo’ak? Hey, are you okay? Lo’ak?” a hand softly placed itself on my arm. Closing my eyes in frustration, I sighed. 
“Yeah, perfectly fine.” 
Damn it, was that when it started? How idiotic and blind have I been that I didn’t even notice that her trust in me started to slip and die when it was right in front of me? Why didn’t I go to her and make sure she was okay? I should’ve punched that idiot’s lights out—
“Ao’nung! Stop pulling me you skxawng, you’re walking too fast, slow down!” a hushed voice chastised. 
“C’mon yuey, we only have about an hour before eclipse, we have to hurry!” His voice grated against my ears as he responded. 
“That’s plenty of time!” (Y/N) insisted. I could hear the laughter bubbling up in her voice as she chased after him. “Please Ao’nung slow down, I can’t keep up.” 
“It can’t be helped, you’re so short—” a whack could be heard. “Ow!”
“I’m as tall as Tsireya, you giant!” 
“Both you and my sister are short—Ow! Alright, just because you did that, you leave me no choice,” Ao’nung said, throwing (Y/N) over his shoulder with a laugh. 
The bickering voices got closer, and my eyes narrowed at the way he held her. My breath hitched as he whispered something in her ear that made her ears perk up and her eyes widen. What the hell was he saying to her? Before I could spring up from my spot, Ao’nung tossed (Y/N) in the water, her yelp quickly interrupted by the sound of her body hitting the water. 
I stayed in my spot as shock zipped through my body. Letting out a breath I didn’t know I held, her head popped out of the water, a playful glare on her face. 
“I told you, you left me no choice,” he stated, guffawing at her expression.
“Oh yeah?” she groused, spitting out seawater as she wrung out her hair. “Well fuck you too. Help me out of here?” 
“Only if you say the magic word,” he taunted, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Otherwise, I’m afraid my hands are tied.”
“Please, oh great son of our Olo’eyktan, help me out of the ocean,” she beckoned dramatically, sarcasm dripping from every word while she rolled her eyes. “It’s about time you recognized my proud lineage, forest dweller,”  he said as his chest puffed out with a hand reaching towards (Y/N). And there was that stupid smile on his face.
(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a mischievous smile spreading across her face as she reached for his hand, making sure to tug with enough force to unceremoniously yank him into the water. 
“So much for the son of a great warrior! Your instincts are shit!”
“My instincts are dull you say?” he questioned as his head popped up next to her. “We’ll see about that!” 
“Wha—AHHH—'' she wheezed. “No, please Ao’nung stop! That tickles!” Her arms flailed wildly in an attempt to free herself from his grasp. 
What the fuck.
  My ears flattened at an angle as I tried to process the scene unfolding before me. When did she start laughing with him? That should’ve been me she was laughing with. Not him, not the skxawng who had been nothing but rude to us since we arrived. What… what was I even saying—Fuck I didn’t know anymore. Why did I feel like this every time I saw them together… laughing and making jokes like we used to?
And it was me, it wasn’t you
It’s cliche, but it’s true 
I wasn’t thinking how I usually do, oh
And is your momma doing well? 
Or does she still hate me? 
But it was hard to watch me put you through hell 
I’m drunk, too late, talking to the moon, ooh
Writing songs I can’t sing to you, ‘cause 
Two weeks had passed since I started noticing the changes in (Y/N)’s relationship—friendship?—with Ao’nung. It was like every time I blinked, I could see her laughing loudly as Ao’nung tickled her with a triumphant smile on his stupid face. Since that day, I had been trying to find a way to talk to (Y/N), but she was never alone. She was always with him and when she wasn’t, she disappeared and I couldn’t find her no matter how hard I looked. 
Now here I was, wandering around trying to look for her as I rehearsed what I wanted to tell her. 
Where could she be? Dinner was in an hour and she wasn’t anywhere near our marui. I had to find her soon so there would be enough time for us to talk. I had to tell her that I miss her, that I was sorry for being so dumb, that I shouldn’t have let my pride blind me, and that I didn’t mean any of the things I said. 
There was only one place I hadn’t looked yet… hopefully she was there. 
As I was getting closer to the root Kiri stalked to, I could see two silhouettes beside each other. An all-too-familiar feeling bloomed in my chest once I registered that she was there with him. 
Her melodic laughter made my steps falter. I clenched my fists tightly, contemplating if I should go over there and pull her away, force her to talk to me, to listen. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do that to her, not when she looked so content, so happy. 
Ever since that day 
The things I didn’t say 
They haunt me, oh
I know that I’m to blame 
So, go ahead and 
Blame it on me, oh
“Lo’ak? You said you were going to look for (Y/N) and never came back. She’s already in the marui helping mom cook,” Kiri stated, a twinge of annoyance lacing her voice. “Hey, are you listening?” She shook my arm slightly, making me jump out of my stupor. 
“Yeah, sorry, you said dinner was ready?” I asked as I stared off. 
The sand beside me crunched softly as Kiri made a move to sit beside me. “No, I said that (Y/N) is with mom helping her cook. Where is your head at?” she asked as she tilted her head to try and meet my gaze. “Are you alright?” The annoyance in her voice shifted to concern. 
“I’m fine, yep—just… fine,” I brushed her off, hoisting myself up to head towards Mom and Dad for dinner before Kiri yanked me back down. 
“Lo’ak, don’t pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Tell me what’s going on,” she urged. “Maybe I can help you with whatever it is that’s occupied your mind lately.”
I inhaled sharply, debating if I should tell her what had been muddying my mind, the reason why I had been so spaced out, why I had been glaring daggers at fish lips each time I saw his stupid face next to (Y/N)—how confused I was. 
“Stop with the thinking skxawng, you might hurt yourself,” she admonished. “Just tell me. It’s not like I can’t handle it.” 
Huffing, I rolled my eyes and turned away from her to look at the sea. I hadn't even said anything yet and Kiri was already making me feel idiotic. How was I supposed to tell her what's been going on like this? Maybe if I kept quiet for long enough, she would get tired of waiting for me to start talking and go on to eat dinner without me. 
A couple of minutes of silence passed. 
I could still feel her staring at me.
“I’ve—I’ve been conflicted,” I started, tongue feeling heavy in my mouth as I continued to stare at the shoreline. “I don’t know what I’m feeling.”
“What do you mean?” Kiri nudged my shoulder with hers. “Elaborate a little more, I can’t help if you don’t tell me the reason why you’re feeling confused.” 
“...Whenever I see (Y/N) with Ao’nung, it’s as if I can feel my heart aching,” I said, motioning toward my chest to prove my point. “There’s always a… a surge of anger that rushes through me. All I want to do is pull her away from him so then everything can go back to the way things used to be—for us to be okay.”
“Lo’ak…” If I was looking at her, I’d probably see Kiri tilt her head with sympathy. But sympathy isn’t what I needed right now.
“I want her to look at me and smile, to laugh with me, hug me—but now, whenever I get close to her, she’s next to him, laughing with him, cracking the jokes we would make to each other… I just—” I rubbed at my face in frustration. It wasn’t as if the words were hard to come by—I had spent so much time bottling them up that it was hard to stop talking. No, I just hated the fact that I felt this way in the first place. “I don’t understand why seeing them makes me feel like my heart is about to explode—why it makes me want to scream. It hurts.” 
“Lo’ak” she put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you—are you in love with (Y/N)?”
Love?
I sputtered in surprise and whipped my head toward Kiri to see if she was joking or not. What kind of a sick question was that? I wasn’t in the mood for any games. 
“What? No, she’s like my… sister?”
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “If you’re not, then why does seeing her with Ao’nung hurt you so much? Why do you care as much as you do?” 
“I shouldn’t!” I wrenched my shoulder away from her hand and stood up. The need to move around and do something—anything—was too much. There was too much energy thrumming right beneath my skin to sit still anymore. 
“That’s the problem! After everything I said to her, done to her? I don’t have the right to say I’m in love with her. She’s my childhood friend, Kiri. That’s all our relationship has ever been… I just—” I paused in thought and tried to calm down. “I didn’t realize seeing her have so much fun with someone else would make me feel so, so hollow—” 
“Let me ask you something, you have to promise to be completely honest with me, okay?”
I nodded, not even looking in her direction. 
“When (Y/N) tried to pull you off from Ao’nung that one fight months ago, what did you feel? Angry? Betrayed? Jealous?”
Jealous? Did she really think I was sulking for months because of such a petty feeling? I’m not a jealous person. I never have been. 
“Seeing her jump in to get me off him made me feel like she was siding with him and telling me that I was wrong. Her actions were clear as day to me, Kiri.” I started to pace around. “She was protecting him—caring for him when she should’ve been next to me, helping and supporting me. When she did that—I felt like the only person that’s ever been on my side—” I croaked and turned my head to look at Kiri as tears stung my eyes “The only person who didn’t see everything I did as some sort of disappointment or failure, abandoned me and chose someone else.”
“...”
“I know that I could’ve approached her a different way but how could I when I felt so broken?” I inhaled sharply, eyebrows furrowed. “ It’s all fish lips’ fault. If he wasn’t such an asshole, none of this would have happened, and (Y/N) and I would still be the same, she would still be by my side—supporting me, loving me.” 
“Why do you keep blaming it on Ao’nung?”
“Because it is his fault that things have turned out the way it has.” I threw my hands up, exasperated. What wasn’t Kiri getting? “He’s getting in between my relationship—er—friendship with (Y/N)! If he wasn’t there I would be able to talk to her and tell her I’m sorry, but she’s always with him—”
“Stop! Are you hearing yourself?” She nudged at my foot to interrupt and scoffed. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? (Y/N) told me what you said to her, how ‘she wasn’t the same girl’ you knew back in the forest. Do you know what happened when you told her that? Do you know how much pain she was in?”
Pain? I snorted, turning towards Kiri. “Now I know what you’re saying is bullshit. You know how (Y/N) is—if she really was pissed at me she would’ve come to me instead of running to someone else.”
“She wasn’t pissed. She cried because of you, Lo’ak. Because of what you said.” I stopped dead in my tracks to look at her. Kiri's eyes didn’t waver. Another heavy feeling settled on my chest and clawed its way up my throat. If you had asked me what it was, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. Was I sad? Guilty? Angry? Was I jealous like she said?
I settled on anger.
“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying—”
“The person that found her that night, the one who comforted her? That was Ao’nung. He held her in his arms as she sobbed when I found them.” She stood up too, forcing me to stop pacing. 
“The last thing I want to hear about right now is him, Kiri. What the fuck—”
“Did you ever think about why she’s so comfortable with him now? Why they’re so close? While you ignored her for weeks, he made sure she was okay—made sure she ate every day. He didn’t leave her side until she finished,” Kiri pointed out, and before I could even think to open my mouth to remind her how shitty he was to her especially, she cut me off. “Yes, he was an asshole at the beginning, and yes he has a screwed-up way to show he cares, but he stepped up when you fucked up.” She poked my chest with a glare before she continued. 
“Oh, so I’m a fuck-up now?” I asked wryly. 
“You can’t put all the blame on someone that took care of your best friend. Stop being so blinded by your pride and hatred and see that you’re the real reason why your relationship with (Y/N) isn’t the same as it used to be.” 
My heart sank a little more as I scrambled for something to say. “How could you say that—”
“No, you do not get to interrupt me right now, Lo’ak.” Her eyes flashed with something closer to anger than annoyance. When was the last time I saw her angry? “Listen and listen well. When we couldn’t find (Y/N) and we were looking for her everywhere—he was the one that found her spot, the one she isolated herself to so she could cry alone, and no one would see how much pain she was in. And what were you doing in the meantime?” 
My ears flattened at her rising tone, and I was finally beginning to understand the weight stuck in my throat and chest. Not anger, not even jealousy.
“You were out there with Tsireya, stuck in your own little world.”
It was my fault.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy that you found her but you can’t have both of them. You can’t be that selfish. From (Y/N)’s perspective, you’ve already chosen the one you want.”
“It’s not like I’ve actually chosen anyone yet,” I tried to interject, but all the fight had left my voice as Kiri’s words dug into my skin and sunk in.
“Don’t you dare play with either of their feelings. (Y/N) held so much love for you in her heart, she allowed herself to break to the point of no repair because she didn’t want to show you how much it hurt her to see you at your happiest with Tsireya.” She paused before continuing, her voice losing its edge. “Let her move on, brother. And if it’s Ao’nung that makes her light up the way she used to, then you suck it up and let him. He was there when your pride wouldn’t even let you apologize or even look in her direction. Actually think about how she feels for once.” 
I hated the fact that there wasn’t anything I could say to prove her wrong. 
“It’s all I’ve been thinking about nowadays,” I muttered.
I know that I’m too late
But I’ll say it anyway 
I’m sorry 
I’m sorry, hmm
I’m sorry 
Though it’s far too late 
“I thought I was already doing that,” a faint voice huffed in annoyance. Turning the corner, I saw Ao’nung and (Y/N) standing on the beach together— far too close for my liking. 
“You were, but you got sloppy. Here, you have to move your hips like this,” he said as he corrected her posture. My ears flattened against my head as he put a hand on her hip and gently directed her movement.
Why did he look so gentle with her?
“Ao’nung,” (Y/N)’s voice rang out, clear as crystal despite her uncertain tone. “Are you sure you should be teaching me this? This is a traditional Metkayina dance, right? I’m…” she hesitated, her voice becoming smaller. “I’m not Metkayina—” 
“Yet.” He interrupted, holding her face in his hands. “You are not Metkayina yet. Once you become one of us, you will have to learn the dance to celebrate the return of our spirit brothers and sisters, so why not learn that now?” I hated how reassuring his voice was. The thought of how either of their eyes looked as they held contact made my stomach turn.
“Yeah… you’re right,” she mumbled with an unsure look on her face.
“Woah, hey pretty girl, look at me,” he insisted, laying his hands on her shoulders and bending his neck so they were at eye level. “I’m serious when I say you will become Metkayina one day, so don’t worry yourself over it right now. Okay?” Ao’nung tilted his head to the side, an unbelievably soft expression on his face. “You have me here to help you.”
“Alright…” (Y/N) mumbled, not convinced. 
“If you don’t get rid of that look on your face I’ll throw you into the water,” he said as his face shifted from sincerity to something mischievous. “Or worse… I’ll tickle you,” he threatened.
“You better not Ao’nung, or I swear to the Great Mother herself I will hu—AHH—get away, you skxawng!'' She laughed as she tried to run away, but Ao’nung grabbed hold of her waist and pulled her into his arms. And despite her words of protest, it was clear as day that she was leaning into him while they scuffled on the sand. 
“No!” she shrieked with glee. “You can’t make me go in there again!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, forest dweller!”
A thought occurred. Should I go up to them? We never got the chance to talk, after all. I took a few steps in their direction before freezing. When was the last time I heard her laugh like that? She had the biggest smile on her face, and the one who made that happen wasn’t me—it was him. 
And if you ever hear this 
I hope you know that 
I’m not proud of who I’ve been, ooh
And if I see you again
I hope you know that 
I wish you nothing but the best
And my biggest regret
The afternoon was quiet, relative silence only interrupted by the crashing of waves. Without much to do, I just sat in our marui and lazed around with Tuk until a horn blew. 
“The tulkun have returned! Everybody—our brothers and sisters have returned!” Tsireya’s voice rang out, and when I poked my head out to see what the fuss was about, I saw the megawatt smile on her face, as she swam by on her ilu. 
The village came to life as everyone mounted either ilu or canoe to make their way to the tulkun. From here, I could see little more than a large group of dark shapes making their way through the water. Payakan himself was dauntingly huge, but to see a whole pod of them show up like this? It was spectacular. I watched the commotion unfold from one of the walkways, lost in thought before I felt water splashing at my feet. 
“Come on Lo’ak! Don’t just stand there, let’s go see the tulkun together!” Tsireya urged, still smiling. Shaken out of my stupor, I grinned widely—diving into the water and clambering onto her ilu. lu may be lithe animals, but I could still feel sinuous muscle under velvety skin as it made adjustments in the water to keep balance. 
“I’ll come, but only if you’re offering a ride,” I joked, gently holding her waist and playfully leaning onto her. The cool water around us made her skin feel that much warmer. It was nice. 
Before I could see her reaction—I would’ve bet anything at that moment that her cheeks had become flushed—we began to quickly make our way toward the rest of the clan and the giant tulkun. 
The air around me vibrated with the excitement and happiness of loved ones returning, and Tsireya was no exception—the speed of the ilu gave away her eagerness to be with her spirit sister. As we leaped into and out of the water, Tsireya’s laughter was carried by the wind and reached my ears. That, and the answering whoops and bellows of Metkayina and tulkun alike, was almost contagious enough to get carried away by the energy surrounding us. 
“My spirit sister is down there,” she said as she dismounted, sliding off her ilu and into the water. “Wait here, yeah?” she smiled at me before diving down.  
I was more than happy to watch the Na’vi around me. Looking around, I was in awe of the sheer amount of tulkun gathered in one area, and how each Metkayina was able to identify their spirit sisters or brothers so easily. Looking down into the shifting waters, I saw Tsireya catching up with her spirit sister, waving her hands around and swimming through the water alongside her.
All around, I could hear people telling stories and the deep, booming calls of the tulkun as they responded with tales of their own. New parents were showing their babies and calves, and as my eyes scanned the horizon, I could see small children holding onto the tulkun’s fins as they were lifted to the glittering ocean surface.  
Not too far away, I heard the sound of a body hitting the water and the sound of grating, but familiar laughter along with an indignant (Y/N) sputtering. 
“Ao’nung, what the fu—” 
“Hey, hey, relax! It’s just some water. There are children here, yuey,” Ao’nung chided with a shit-eating grin on his face. 
“The parents of those children are going to have to explain what it means to return to Eywa once I’m through with you,” she retorted, treading water and becoming even more unamused when he raised his hands in mock surrender. 
“Woah there pretty girl, you’re talking to the son of the mightiest warrior in all of Pandora—”
“That’s funny, I don’t see Neteyam here,” she interjected, pretending to search the waters around them before turning back to Ao’nung and tilting her head, “do you?”
“Just because you said that you can have fun finding your own way back to shore,” he said as he turned his ilu around.
“Oh, c’mon Ao’nung, don’t be like that,” she rolled her eyes and reached a hand towards him. “You’d really leave me here to fend for myself?”
He turned and wagged a disapproving finger at her, “I’ll consider forgiving you if you say word-for-word that I’m the son of the mightiest warrior in all of Pandora. I can’t have you slandering my father’s name, yuey.” She groaned and leaned back into the water. 
“You couldn’t pay me enough to say that load of bull—”
“Nope!” he didn’t give her a chance to defile the ears of any nearby children and crossed his arms. “I wanna hear you say it.”
“...”
“I’m still waiting.”
With a sardonic smile, she finally caved. “Why don’t I do you one better? You’re the mightiest warrior to exist since the time of the First Songs,” she declared, sarcasm dripping from every word as she slapped at the water for emphasis. 
“That’s what I thought, was that so hard?” Even if I wasn’t able to see them, I still would have been able to hear the stupidly wide smile that made its way across his face.
“Don’t be such a big baby and let me meet your spirit brother!” 
“Just because he’s here to visit today, I’ll let that one slide for now.” Ao’nung rolled his eyes, dismounting his ilu to join (Y/N). “Now hold on tight and hold your breath like how we practiced.”
We? Who the fuck was we? Why was he allowing her to meet his spirit brother? Why were they looking at each other like that?
I watched both of their silhouettes submerge and breathed deeply, forcing my thundering heart to calm as I slowly sank my head into the water. At first, all I could see were blobs floating around in the water, but once my eyes adjusted, I could see the fluid movement of Ao’nung talking to his spirit brother. Eyebrows furrowing, I swam a little closer and hoped that I would be able to see what was being signed. With each movement made, it was clear that Ao’nung was translating the clicks and bellows of the tulkun to (Y/N), and whatever was being said made her smile widen by the second. 
I couldn’t watch anymore as my chest burned from the lack of air and I resurfaced to catch my breath. For once, I was thankful for the lack of lung capacity I had. I climbed back onto Tsireya’s ilu. Seeing as she wasn’t back yet, I sat back and leaned on its neck to face the sky.
Did she always glow like that when she smiled? Whenever she was with him—she always looked so happy, so vibrant. Would she have looked like that with me by her side if I didn’t push her away? If I was there for her like I had promised? I wanted to tell her sorry—that I was sorry for taking our friendship for granted, for making her go through it alone. I wish that it didn’t take seeing her smile and laugh with someone else to make me realize how I felt.
I willed my tears to go away. 
Is this how she felt? Seeing me with Tsireya? Great Mother… I was truly horrible, wasn’t I? I wished things turned out differently. Maybe in another universe, I did talk to her—realized sooner, made her happier—but now? Right now, my heart was torn in two, watching as someone else picked up the pieces of the heart I crushed. No amount of words could fix what we used to have, and even though I wanted to whisk her away, tell her I love her—that I see her—that seeing her with him made my skin crawl, I knew I couldn’t. I was no longer worthy to be part of her life, because of me and my actions alone. 
I had become nothing but a stranger. 
Ever since that day 
The things I didn’t say 
They haunt me
I know that I’m to blame
So go ahead and 
Blame it on me, ooh
I know that I’m too late 
But I’ll say it anyway
I’m sorry
I’m sorry 
Hmm, I’m sorry 
Oh-oh-oh-oh, I’m sorry
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