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italianhomosexuality · 1 month

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you don't have to know what to say or what to think on ao3

The first time it happens, it's an honest mistake.

(The times after that are also honest mistakes, but Nico feels like he should've known better.)

He's been working really, really hard to learn American Sign Language. After his three days in the infirmary, after working night after night, talking to Mr. D, struggling to learn how to open up to other people and how to finally be a 15-year-old teenager who tries his best to not let his lifelong trauma get to him too much, Nico di Angelo had become close friends with one Will Solace.

He'd never thought he'd be able to have a friendship with someone like Will. Someone who didn't take shit from anyone—he made sure to make that clear—, but was doting and cared for everyone else, sometimes a little too much. Someone who was as bright as the sun itself, who could light stars in the sky just by smiling, who could coax Nico's fears out of him and make him feel equal, not judged.

Someone who Nico could see himself loving.

Okay, and, woah, that might be a little too far, but was he wrong? He was finally allowing himself to feel hope after The Incident (mental trademark), letting himself have friends and a crush that didn't feel like ripping his insides apart and stir-frying them for dinner. So what if Nico's eyes lingered a little too long on the way Will's hair glowed against the infirmary's emergency lights?

(“Nico, when the siren rings and lights up, you stop everything and you go help!”, Kayla had yelled at him the first time it happened. He only felt death in the air after Will finally started running after the patient.

It was that bad.)

Who could blame him, then, for wanting to learn the language the boy he liked felt more comfortable with? Will had assured him that he did just fine with English, that his Cabin Nine hearing aids worked more than perfectly, but Nico had seen the way he got excited whenever he got to sign with someone. There were a few Deaf demigods around camp and Will knew every single one of them. Sometimes, he would sign while speaking, and it made Nico's Italian self happy because hand gestures! Then it made Nico's gay self happy because Will's hands, oh my gods, and then Nico wanted to learn how to make Will's face light up like that.

So, he learned. He got familiar with the computer in the Big House, watching YouTube videos on the matter, practicing in the mirror, going up to other campers who were signers and fighting social anxiety like his life depended on it. He had nailed most stuff by week three. The power of hyperfixations.

He did it all hiding from Will, of course. It was meant to be a surprise. He would walk up to Will, sign something, and Will would be like, “Nico, I didn't know you signed!”, so Nico would reply, “I learned just for you!”, and they'd hold hands and kiss and skip into the sunset.

A guy can dream, right?

“Hey, Nico!” Will yells out from the infirmary steps. “I'm done with my shift. Wasn't expectin' to see you here.”

Gods, his accent is so cute.

“I just thought I'd stop by, see how you were doing,” says Nico, preparing himself mentally for what comes next. “I have a surprise for you, actually.”

“Oh, you do?” Will gives his side-tooth smile, the one he does when he's excited for something he doesn't want to show excitement over.

Nico takes a deep breath.

“Food-you-want?” He signs, slowly but surely. “Me-hungry.”

Will blinks.

“Do that again.”

A warm feeling bubbles up in Nico's chest. Embarrassment, adoration, nervousness, teenage crush? He doesn't really know. He only knows that Will's cheeks look flushed and his voice is barely above a whisper, a tone Nico doesn't get to hear often, so of course he signs his sentence again. He'd do anything Will asks for.

“Do the last sign again.”

“Hum,” Nico starts, feeling a little off. He signs it again, anyway, placing his hand shaped like a C in front of his torso, following a line from the center of his collarbones down to the middle of his chest, then vice-versa. “It means 'hungry'... Right?”

Will takes a deep breath, face redder than Nico's ever seen.

“It means 'hungry' when you do the movement once,” he explains, carefully, doing the sign. The same handshape and movement Nico did, but just once, from the collarbone to the middle of his chest. “When you do the movement twice… It means something else.”

“What does it mean?”

They stare at each other. Nico's eyes are wide. Will's eyes are so blue. Nico would pay more attention to the blue if he weren't so preoccupied with—

“It means 'horny'. You signed, I'm horny.”

—With running away.

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

The second time it happens, Nico is still embarrassed by the first one.

Maybe it had been his fault to not pay a lot of attention when the online video he was watching went over the five parameters of ASL. But it wasn't entirely his fault the two signs were so similar, right? Will assured him afterwards—after he found Nico and after a few awkward laughs—that it was a very, very common mistake. The signs were really similar, after all. Nothing wrong with admitting that.

Still, Nico couldn't help but feel his face heat up every time he remembered that day. He'd told his crush he was horny. Unwillingly, sure, but it was sort of true! Nico was still accepting what being horny meant, but he knew that, even in the mildest sense of the word, he was horny for Will. Embarrassing, but honest.

So now, they were hanging out in the Hades' cabin, just the two of us and a bunch of DVDs they'd stolen from the Apollo cabin and Chiron's stash in the Big House. A mix of old rom-coms, sci-fi, noir, and historical dramas, limitless options, but they still argued over what to watch.

Nico suggested, finally, Back to the Future. Will adjourned his case.

As Will walks back from the DVD player, having put the disk in there, Nico takes a deep breath.

“You-eat-want-what?” he signs, going over each sign in his head like a mantra. He does not need a repeat of last time. Then, he raises his eyebrows, signing, “Pizza?”

Will goes as red as a tomato in the face.

“N-No, I'm good,” Will stutters, fanning himself like Hazel does when she's shocked. “Not hungry.”

“You just came back from a 12-hour shift,” Nico deadpans.

“Let's just watch the movie.”

So Nico is taken back to nights at the Lotus Hotel, when they would have movie nights and play Back to the Future in a loop. Marty McFly might have been his first boy crush. Briefly, he imagined Will in a costume like that for Halloween. But, for now, they're doing just fine, thighs close enough to touch, Will's hand nearly making its way to Nico's scalp for some good head scratches, and life is good.

Sooner than Nico would've liked, it's curfew time. The DeLorean is long gone, and Will is rising up to his feet, stretching, his shirt riding up, and Nico sees the sliver of skin, with a little of hair on his navel, and, oh, gods, he shouldn't be seeing this, but Will is really handsome, and—

“Walk me out?” he says, sweet as ever, and Nico can't say no.

“I had a good time,” says Nico, leaning on the door panel. The moonlight makes Will's hearing aids glimmer.

“Me too,” Will replies, smiling. “The infirmary today was as excitin' as a mashed-potato san'which, good Lord.”

His accent got thicker the more tired he got, just like Nico's.

“Good-night,” Nico signs. “Sleep-good, you.”

Will's eyes linger on Nico's hands, then on his face. His expression is unreadable. It seems… fond? Happy? Nico doesn't know. He just knows he wants that big smile.

“By the way, Nico,” Will starts, voice a little serious, “this is how you sign 'pizza'.”

He goes through the motions. It's just fingerspelling, Nico notices. P-i-z-z-a.

Nico furrows his brows. “What did I sign?”

“You signed…” Will takes a deep breath. “You asked me if I wanted to eat, uh, the… The female genitalia.”

Nico slams the door so hard he doesn't know how Will keeps all of his teeth and nose intact.

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

The third time it happens, Nico is just plain tired.

He had been on a week-long trip for his father, working on some old business in Louisiana, fighting the occasional monster that came his way and shadow-traveling out of danger—no longer to an inch of his life because he didn't want to make Will worry about him. His clothes are a mess, his hair is greasy, there's soil built up under his fingernails, he hasn't had an actual meal in days, and he's exhausted to say the least.

After showering, eating, and bed-rotting any leftover worries away, he sleeps for fifteen hours straight. He wakes up still exhausted, though a little less, so he walks up to the infirmary since he has nothing better to do. Might as well get a check-up while he's there.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he says to the head of blond hair when he sees it.

“Good afternoon, di Angelo,” Will replies, looking ready to tackle any challenge, bloody or non-human, that comes his way in his combination of scrubs, cargo shorts, and Jesus sandals. “You look like you're near 'bout past goin'.”

Nico doesn't know what he's saying, but shrugs anyway. “I'm tired.” Then, he signs, “Me-tired. Coffee, me-need.”

Will smirks.

“All you had to do was ask, Death Boy,” he replies, amused, and Nico lights up.

“You have coffee?” He doesn't know why Will looks so smug about coffee, in a way he's never looked before, but he lets himself be led to the infirmary kitchen, watches Will drape over the Nespresso machine, churning out a nice cup of pure, slightly-processed espresso.

The smell is enough to make Nico's eyes open a little more.

“Also,” Will says, putting his doughnut down by the table, still smirking for reasons unknown, “the sign for 'coffee' goes like this.”

He demonstrates. Nico barely follows, focused on taking a sip from his coffee.

“You signed, I need to make-out. You've gotta pay more attention, di Angelo, or— oh, my gods, Nico, breathe! You're gonna burn your throat! Nico!”

☀️🤟🏻⭐️

Nico is tired of failing.

It's not like he's failed-failed. Will has been more than helpful, willing to show him the ropes and correct his signs, and they've actually spent more time with the other Deaf campers, practicing and practicing. Nico is still fighting the flush that decorates his cheeks whenever he signs with someone else, but he's getting there. Anything for that megawatt Will Solace smile.

So, on the Fourth of July, as they're watching the fireworks, Will takes his hearing aids off, saying the noise makes it hurt. Nico gets a little antsy, but shakes it off, and would rather focus on the way the red, white, and blue from the sky makes Will's freckles change colors, too.

And he looks so good tonight. He ditched his usual medic attire for something still Will, a white tank top, denim shorts, an American flag bandana to keep his curls out of his eyes and flip-flops. Nico dressed similarly, but in a black t-shirt and black shorts, black socks and black sneakers. No bandana; only Will can pull it off.

The tank-top is low cut enough that Nico can see his tattoo peeking out. Gods, he's so beautiful, he thinks to himself, lost in thought he almost misses the way Will is waving his hand in front of Nico's face.

“Hi,” Will signs. “Here, fun.”

Nico nods.

“Confess-me,” Will signs. It's a closed fist by his sternum, opening outwards, like he's pulling something out of his chest. Nico translates it to, I need to tell you something, then nods again. Will takes a deep breath. “Me-like-you. Me-like-like-you.”

Nico's breath is stolen. He doesn't know where it went. He doesn't know what's going on. Off in the distance, someone whoops loudly and a group of campers cheer, but he can only focus on the opaque thump of the fireworks and his own heartbeat increasing pace against his chest. Will is staring at him, blue eyes like the sky, like the bandana, like the prettiest gemstone one could conjure.

“Sign-you-learn. Why? Me. Special-you. Me-like-you, why? You.” When he points at Nico, the final 'you', he does a flourish, like he's honoring Nico. You learned sign for me. You're special. I like you because you're you.

Nico feels words bubbling up in his throat, but doesn't let himself say anything. Instead, he moves his hands like he's practiced so many times in front of the mirror before.

“Me-like-you. Long-how? Long. Favorite-person, you-mine. Date-you, I want.”

I've liked you for a long time. You're my favorite person. I'd like to date you.

With that, he finally gets a megawatt Will Solace smile.

#pjo #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #solangelo #solangelo fic #solangelo fanfiction #gianna writes #will solace #nico di angelo #will solace x nico di angelo #deaf will solace #3+1 things #solangelo fluff #wahhhhhhh #unbeta'd

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hyperfixatedimagines · 1 year

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The Queen & her Lady Ch.3

Summary: Tensions rise as the Dornish Princess discovers that King’s Landing is nothing like her home. She’s made friends and allies but she’s also made enemies. And yet the only thing the Princess cares about is where the Queen falls on that list.

A/N: Here it finally is. I apologize for the delay but working a full time job and being the head of my household leaves little time for writing. Please let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy.

A/N pt.2: The people who requested to be tagged. @fuckinglittlekitten @freshmoneyalmondathlete @swords-and-roses @watercolorskyy @chonisbestmistake

(y/n) had searched the places she knew Aemond liked to frequent to no avail. It wasn’t until she searched the sept that she found him. He had been avoiding (y/n) for several days following the incident with Vhagar.

(y/n) knew Aemond blamed himself for the small gash on her forearm. Her attempts to to sway him otherwise during dinners they shared with the Queen fell on deaf ears. (y/n) could not stand to see her friend so forlorn. She had to fix it.

“The Gods will give you no relief as you have not committed any sins,” (y/n) spoke.

Aemond startled then turned around. Once he realized it was (y/n) he lowered his gaze. “That is for the Gods to decide, not you.”

“I was the one injured was I not,” (y/n) countered.

“You were.” Aemond stood from the altar where he knelt but did not approach (y/n).

“Why do you insist on shouldering such needless blame? Vhagar did not harm me.” (y/n) closed the distance between herself and Aemond. “If anyone is to blame I would wager it is Ser Criston’s lack of grace,” (y/n) said with a small smile on her face.

Aemond found no humor in (y/n)’s words. “I was the one who brought you out there without consulting my mother. I should not have been so impulsive.”

(y/n) reached out to touch him but stopped herself and instead laced her own fingers together. She was not in the safety of the Keep’s library. Unfriendly eyes and ears filled every other space.

“You were being a good friend. You knew it was my dream to meet a dragon and you made it a reality. Aemond, I owe you a great deal. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive than I did when my hand touched Vhagar’s skin.”

Aemond’s face flushed. “You are too kind Princess.”

“Princess? I thought we agreed our friendship had grown past that,” (y/n) replied, a frown growing across her face.

Aemond finally looked up and met (y/n)’s gaze. “What kind of friend puts your life in danger as I did?”

“The kind that knows I am not a fragile doll made of porcelain. The kind that views me as his equal...the kind of friend I thought you were,” (y/n) finished, a knot arising in her throat.

“I don’t view you as my equal,” Aemond replied.

Had she completely misread her friendship with Aemond? (y/n) had grown closer to Aemond than she ever had any other man before. Sometimes (y/n) wondered if this was the affection traditional girls felt towards boys. Regardless, (y/n) knew that her care for Aemond was as close to loving a man as she would ever get. So Aemond’s words cut her deeply.

Aemond closed the gap between them, their faces mere inches apart. It was improper but Aemond did not seem to care. His violet eye bored into (y/n)’s brown ones. “You are every bit my better. I have never met any one like you, (y/n).”

(y/n) softened. “Then please let go of your guilt, if not for your sake do it for mine. I cannot bear knowing I cause you such anguish.”

Aemond looked down and clenched his jaw. “I will try. For you, I will try.”

(y/n) scanned the room. She could not see anyone else there. So she reached out and held Aemond’s hands in her own. She gave them a light squeeze.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Blush spread across Aemond’s cheeks. (y/n) let out a small laugh at the sight of it. Aemond met (y/n)’s gaze.

“I thank the Gods your father let you come to King’s Landing.”

(y/n) nodded. “Me too. I miss my family dearly but your friendship has lessened the pain of being away from them.”

Aemond smiled. “Happy to be of service Princess.”

(y/n) let go of Aemond’s hands and swatted his arm. “Do not call me that.”

Aemond laughed. “You’re right. My apologies (y/n).”

(y/n) smiled. “That’s better.”

The Prince and the Princess walked out of the sept and headed towards the Keep’s library to pour over various texts as they so often did together. Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes had caught their tender exchange.

Talya entered the Queen’s apartments, unsure if she should tell the Queen what she had just learned. The Queen had such an affection for the foreign Princess, surely what had happened in the sept would be of no consequence.

But Talya knew better. She had shared the information with the white worm. It was only just that she do the same with the Queen. If not for the Queen’s sake, then for the Princess’. Gods knew what plans the white worm was hatching.

The Queen did not look up from the work in front of her.

“You had something to share with me,” the Queen asked.

Talya cleared her throat. “Yes your grace.”

“Out with it then,” the Queen commanded. She continued to search through the various documents in front of her.

“It concerns prince Aemond.”

The Queen looked up from her work but did not seem concerned.

“Aemond,” she questioned.

Talya nodded. “Yes, he and...the Princess from Dorne.”

At the mention of (y/n), the Queen pushed her work aside and stood.

“What happened to the Princess? Did Aemond take her back to that accursed creature?“

The Queen moved away from the table and approached Talya. The Queen’s face was riddled with worry.

Talya quickly soothed the Queen’s fear. “No your grace, it does not concern the Prince’s dragon.”

The Queen eyebrows knit together. “Then what happened that is of such importance?”

Talya swallowed hard. “A serving girl was passing by the sept and saw the two...in an improper state.”

“Speak plainly,” the Queen urged. Her mind raced with images of the Princess and her son in various unseemly situations.

“The Prince and Princess (y/n) were holding hands....their bodies were pressed against one another in an unbecoming fashion.”

Alicent’s throat went dry. She could not speak.

Princess (y/n)? With Aemond? Could they really have been so foolish?

Alicent sank down into a nearby seat. She stared at the fire that blazed in the room’s hearth.

“Who else knows,” she questioned.

Talya looked at the ground. “Just your grace, I, and the serving girl.”

Alicent nodded slowly. “Good. Keep it that way.”

Talya returned the nod. “Yes, your grace.”

Then she curtsied before taking her leave.

Alicent sat and stared at the fire. She sat there for what felt like hours. A dull ache sprouted in her chest, and it only grew in strength the more Alicent thought of what could have transpired between (y/n) and Aemond in the sept.

This was her fault, Alicent thought. She had revealed the truth to Aemond and not stopped his plans to woo the Princess. Alicent had been too careless and not enforced the Princess’ duties as her lady in waiting. She had let the Princess have too much freedom. She had not protected the Princess from her Dornish sensibilities. She had failed (y/n).

The ache transformed into a gnawing and suffocating feeling in Alicent’s throat. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and her heart throbbed with a stabbing pain.

It was not just that she had failed (y/n). There was something more, something deeper that Alicent could not voice. Something she would not voice. A nature unfitting a woman of the faith that Alicent had long sealed away deep inside herself.

But there it was, clawing its way out and shouting for Alicent to recognize it.

Alicent closed her eyes and took a long breath, desperately trying to calm herself.

Unfortunately for her, Princess (y/n) burst into the room.

“Your grace, come see the scorpion my father sent for Princess Helaena,” (y/n) beamed.

Ser Criston trailed behind the Princess. “Apologies your grace, Princess (y/n) rushed inside before I could stop her.”

Alicent waved Ser Criston off but did not open her eyes. “It’s fine Ser Criston.”

Criston nodded and left the Queen alone with the Princess.

Alicent balled her fists and squeezed her eyes shut. She could not voice her discontent with the Princess while these feelings raged inside her. She had to compose herself...she had to be regal.

(y/n) stepped closer. She could see something was upsetting the Queen.

“Your grace, is everything alright?”

The Queen did not reply. So (y/n) closed the gap between them and reached for the Queen’s balled fist.

“Are you unwell? Should I call for the maesters?”

Alicent steeled herself. She exhaled and opened her eyes. She did not look at (y/n).

“I’m alright Princess,” Alicent replied and pulled her hand away from (y/n).

(y/n) furrowed her brows. “Are you sure? You seem...”

“I said I’m fine,” Alicent snapped.

(y/n) flinched.

Alicent noticed. Guilt arose inside her but she could not let it overtake her. She had to fix things. She could not let the Princess disgrace herself.

“You were with Aemond earlier today, were you not?”

(y/n) nodded. “Yes, I found him in the sept.”

“Alone,” the Queen asked.

(y/n) nodded again. “Yes.”

The Queen stood from her chair and crossed the room, putting considerable distance between herself and the Princess.

“And you? Did you have a guard or other lady by your side?” Alicent turned her back to the Princess, she stared out the nearby window.

“No, your grace. I was alone,” (y/n) replied. Unease settled in her stomach. She had upset the Queen, somehow.

“Do you see a problem with that, Princess?” Alicent turned back around to face (y/n). “Do you not see how someone passing by might think something untoward was going on?”

(y/n) clasped her hands behind her back, squeezing them hard. She could have sworn no one else was there....how could the Queen know?

“I do, your grace,” (y/n) replied and lowered her gaze.

“Is that all you have to say,” the Queen reprimanded.

The tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall. Alicent turned her back on the Princess once more. She would not let (y/n) see her in such a state.

(y/n) winced. She was not in Dorne. She knew she was not in Dorne...but she had not done anything improper. She had merely spoken to Aemond, and they had been alone plenty of times in the library without such a reaction from the Queen.

“Aemond and I only spoke. We have always studied alone I did not see the need for a chaperone,” (y/n) stated.

“Aemond?” The Queen scoffed, jealousy bubbling within her at the sound of (y/n) speaking her son’s name without his title as propriety demanded.

“Prince Aemond, I-...I apologize your grace. The Prince and I agreed to forgo our titles when in each other’s company,” (y/n) explained as she shifted uncomfortably.

It felt wrong, somehow. It felt like a betrayal almost to tell the Queen. Forgoing titles implied a certain level of intimacy.

“It is this...closeness between you and Aemond that concerns me. You are not a girl of ten, Princess. You should know better. The gossips of court have eyes and ears everywhere and you know those ladies do not hold you in any kind of esteem as to keep your secrets,” Alicent scolded.

Indignation rose in (y/n)’s chest. Whoever had informed the Queen of what happened must have lied. She had done nothing worth the Queen’s anger.

“I did nothing improper. I did not kiss the Prince. I merely spoke with him. I only spoke with him in the privacy of the sept because he was riddled with guilt over the injury your so called knight inflicted upon me. He had been avoiding me for days and I could not take it anymore,” (y/n) rambled. She needed to make the Queen understand.

(y/n) stepped towards the Queen. “Prince Aemond is my closest ally in King’s Landing he has done nothing but support me and help me. He- .”

Alicent whirled on the Princess, jealousy flaring inside her. “He is your closest ally? He the only one who has supported you? He the only one who has helped you?”

Tears now welled in (y/n)’s eyes. She reached out for the Queen. “No your grace that’s not what I-”

Alicent stepped away from (y/n). “I have done nothing but help you Princess. I have excused you from all but few of your duties as my lady in waiting. I have worked tirelessly to help you better yourself as a woman of noble birth. I have allowed you to spend hours in the library reading Gods know what because it brings a smile to your face and your happiness is all I-...” Alicent stopped herself. She swallowed hard at the sound of her confession and turned away.

(y/n) held her breath, her stomach turned and twisted inside her. She waited for the Queen to continue.

To her great dismay, the Queen did not say anything more.

(y/n) shut her eyes and wiped away the tears that had fallen. Then she took a deep breath and calmed herself. “I am truly sorry your grace. I meant no offense. Prince Aemond and I only spoke, but you are right. I know things are different here. I need to be more careful as the Prince is not my family nor is he my husband. I will be more cautious. Thank you for your concern, your grace.” (y/n) turned and walked towards the door.

Alicent heard the Princess’ footsteps and turned around.

“Wait,” she called out.

The Princess stopped but she did not look back at the Queen. She could not.

“I only wish to protect you, (y/n),” the Queen professed.

(y/n) sighed. She knew the Queen had purposely not used her title. She knew that was the Queen’s way of apologizing for scolding her, calling upon their fragile intimacy. “I know, your grace.”

Then she walked out of the Queen’s apartments. (y/n) did not stop until she reached her chambers.

She went to the wall opposite the door and placed her forehead against the cool stone. Her whole body burned with mixed feelings. She was a storm of anger, desire, and guilt.

The Queen only sought to protect her. (y/n) had heard the Queen herself say so....So why did the Queen admitting that she cared to bring a smile to (y/n)’s face plague her so? She could not put the Queen’s words out of her mind.

It meant nothing, (y/n) told herself. She did not mean....The Queen would never mean...as much as (y/n) desired for the Queen to feel the same as she did (y/n) knew it was folly. She pressed her mouth to the stone wall and screamed. The muffled shouts expelled the pain inside (y/n).

Prince Aemond always knew where to find Princess (y/n). She was a creature of habit, he had realized. Princess (y/n) liked to be in the library in the mornings and just after breaking her fast. In the hours where the sun was at it’s hottest (y/n) liked to be in the Godswood. Many a day had Aemond spent watching (y/n) lay on the grass underneath the weirwood tree, her tanned skinned glimmering in the sun’s light. After dinner (y/n) liked to be in her chambers, writing to her family in Dorne or practicing some duty with the Queen.

So Aemond knew exactly where (y/n) would be as he lead the dragon keepers who carried with them a dragon egg in its fiery chest.

“(y/n),” Aemond called out as he reached the edge of the Godswood.

(y/n) sat up and rested on her elbows. She smiled when she noticed it was Aemond.

(y/n)’s smile always made Aemond’s heart race. (y/n) smiled so easily, it made Aemond want to smile more often as well.

Aemond walked up to where Princess (y/n) sat. (y/n) stood up as Aemond approached. Then she noticed the dragon keepers and the dragon egg chest they carried. She knit her brows together.

“What is this,” she asked.

Aemond smiled. “Since mother forbade me from ever bringing you near a dragon again, I thought I could bring a bit of dragon to you. I know you and Helaena like to study objects together. I thought you might enjoy studying a real dragon egg.”

Joy washed over (y/n). She reached out and wrapped her arms around the Prince. “Thank you. I cannot express how happy this makes me Aemond,” she whispered.

Desire blazed inside Aemond. He wrapped his arms around the Princess’ waist. He knew this hug was improper, but he did not care. The Princess’ scent was intoxicating and he wanted it burned into his memory.

(y/n)’s exchange with the Queen came to the forefront of her mind. (y/n) pulled away from Aemond and she stepped a few paces away from him. She cleared her throat.

“My apologies, I forgot myself,” she said and looked away from the Prince.

Blush spread across Aemond’s cheeks. He nodded. “No need for an apology. I forgot myself as well.” Aemond turned and took the lid off the egg’s chest. “It’s a bit hot but if you can stand it you can hold it.”

(y/n) approached the egg and picked it up. It was hot, but (y/n) would bear it as she did not know if she would ever have the pleasure of holding such a thing ever again.

When the heat was too much she handed the egg to the dragon keepers. Then she turned to Aemond.

“We should go to Princess Helaena’s apartments. I know she will have plenty of information to tell me about the nature of the egg.”

Aemond let out a laugh. “I’m sure she will. Let us go at once.”

They left the Godswood with the dragon keepers and egg in tow. From across the way young Lady Ambrose smirked then hurried the way she had come. She would have to tell all her friends the scandal she had just witnessed.

It worried Alicent, the way the ladies of her needlework circle giggled amongst themselves. She knew something was afoot but she did not know what. She did not like not knowing. Alicent had eyes in different places for this very reason.

“Mother,” Helaena called.

Alicent pulled herself from her thoughts and turned to her daughter. “Yes dear?”

“Can you believe Princess (y/n) held a dragon egg for three minutes with her bare hands?” Helaena put her hand on top of (y/n)’s. “Is she not brave?”

Giggles spread amongst the ladies once more. Princess (y/n) blushed and did not meet the Queen’s gaze.

Were they laughing at (y/n)? Alicent wondered.

“She is very brave indeed,” Alicent replied mindlessly.

What cause do they have for mocking (y/n) now?

Helaena continued to tell Alicent various things about the nature of dragon eggs. (y/n) was unusually quiet the whole time.

(y/n) is never that quiet, Alicent thought.

After needlework, Alicent called Talya into her sitting chambers.

Alicent perched upon the seat closest to the fire. Dread had taken hold of her since realizing something happened that she was not aware of, and more so that it concerned (y/n).

Talya entered and greeted the Queen. Alicent called Talya closer. Talya did so.

“Is there something you are not telling me Talya?”

Talya looked away.

Unease rose inside of Alicent. She frowned.

“Talya, your Queen commands you to inform her of all that happens in the Keep. Is there something you are not telling me?”

Talya nodded.

“Why,” Alicent questioned.

“It concerns Princess (y/n). The last time I brought news of her it upset your grace. I did not wish to cause you distress,” Talya replied.

Alicent shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What has the Princess done now?”

Talya sighed. “I cannot speak to the truth in it your grace...but there is a rumor going around the ladies of court that the Princess is with the Prince’s child.”

Alicent sprung out of her seat. “What? Why would they say such a thing?”

It cannot be true, Alicent thought. (y/n) would not be so foolish, not after she had scolded her. Right?

“They were seen in the Godswood together. Prince Aemond had brought a dragon egg with him. The Princess and the Prince embraced one another before Princess (y/n) held the egg in her hands. That seems to be the origin for such claims,” Talya continued.

“Dragon egg,” Alicent replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Helaena and (y/n) had spoken about a dragon egg....but (y/n) could not possibly have disgraced herself in such a manner.

Alicent dismissed Talya. Talya curtsied then left the Queen’s chambers.

She sat down in front of the fire and stared into the dancing flames. She felt herself go numb.

Alicent knew she had to confront (y/n). She needed to know if there was any truth to the gossip.

But she could not will herself to stand and go to (y/n)’s chambers. She could not bear the thought of questioning (y/n)’s virtue.

Alicent knew that (y/n)’s answer would be irrelevant. If the rumor was true, Alicent wasn’t sure her heart could take it. If the rumor was a lie, Princess (y/n) would have to return to Sunspear. Alicent would not let the Princess’ reckless ways hurt her family’s reputation. She would find a way to convince Viserys it was the wisest course of action.

But Alicent did not want to send the Princess away. She wanted the Princess close.

Alicent buried her face in her hands and let out small cries.

Alicent calmly walked to (y/n)’s chambers. She asked Criston to stand guard at (y/n)’s door and not let anyone linger nearby. The Queen wanted privacy.

She knocked on the Princess’ door.

“Come in,” the Princess called out.

Alicent took a deep breath before she opened the door and walked inside.

“Your grace,” (y/n) said as she stood. “I was not expecting you.”

In truth the hour had grown late. It was nearly the hour of the bat and Princess (y/n) had changed into her night gown.

Alicent did not let her gaze linger but she took note of the way the gown was tailored to hug the Princess’ curves. (y/n)’s nightgown was a pale yellow with little adornment. It was simple but it only enhanced (y/n)’s natural beauty.

Suddenly feeling under dressed (y/n) reached for the nearby robe to cover herself with.

Alicent cleared her throat to brush away thoughts of the Princess’ nightgown.

“Yes, I know the hour is late but I needed to speak with you.”

(y/n) gestured to the table and chairs by her window. “Please sit.”

Alicent shook her head. “It is best if I don’t.”

Worry racked (y/n). She frowned. “Have I upset you again your grace?”

Alicent looked at the ceiling of (y/n)’s chamber. She could not bring herself to speak. But she needed to know. She did not want to know. She had no desire to. But she had to know. She had to protect her family....and if the rumor was true she had to protect (y/n). So she dug her fingernails into her palms and closed her eyes.

“There is a rumor running rampant in court,” Alicent began, each word burning her throat as she spoke them.

A foreboding feeling seeped into (y/n)’s bones. The air was stale around them. The Queen would not meet her gaze.

“A rumor,” (y/n) asked, her voice thick with dread.

Alicent opened her eyes and looked at (y/n). She owed the Princess the dignity of looking her in the eyes.

“Yes, a rumor that you and Prince Aemond have engaged in....,” the words were stuck in Alicent’s throat, unwilling to come out. “Did you and Aemond...” Alicent sighed. She looked away from the Princess. She could not go through with it.

Embarrassment washed over (y/n). She felt her face grow hot. She did not need the Queen to finish. She knew what the Queen had meant.

“You really need to ask?”

“Apparently I do,” Alicent replied. She still could not meet the Princess’ piercing gaze.

Embarrassment turned to indignation.

“Did you question Aemond? Or did you come straight to question me because your virtuous son could not possibly do something so unbecoming,” (y/n) probed.

Alicent scoffed and met (y/n)’s gaze. “Aemond is not the one I lectured on propriety a mere day before the incident that incited such a rumor took place.”

(y/n) stepped closer to the Queen. “And you think me capable of such an act? That I would sully myself in such a manner when I am the sole representative of my house in King’s Landing?”

Why was (y/n) avoiding the initial question? It worried Alicent that (y/n) had taken umbrage to the very question of her virtue. The echos of a different princess becoming upset with Alicent over the same issue fluttered in her mind.

“You Dornish do have queer customs, do you not?”

The words left her mouth before she had the chance to stop herself. Alicent swallowed hard.

Nothing could have prepared (y/n) for the overwhelming pain in her chest. The Queen really thought so little of her?

Tears fell down the sides of (y/n)’s face. She turned away from the Queen and rushed to grab a nearby rag to wipe her face. She would not cry in front of the Queen again.

Guilt consumed Alicent the very moment the first tear fell from (y/n)’s face. She turned away. She had surely offended the Princess. She had surely ruined everything.

“My friendship with Prince Aemond has never strayed past chaste affection and admiration. My maidenhead is intact your grace. Thank you for your concern,” (y/n) declared.

Alicent felt a chill go down her spine. The warmth in the Princess’ voice was gone. It was replaced by cutting indifference. She faced the Princess but the Princess still had her back to Alicent.

“Princess you must understand. I had to know for certain. If the rumor were true I would have-”

(y/n) turned around and cut the Queen off.

“What would you have done? Would you have cast me out? Send me to Sunspear in disgrace? Or would you force me to birth a bastard?”

(y/n) eyes flared with an anger Alicent had never seen in the Princess. Alicent stepped closer. She needed to fix things.

“I would have the high septon marry you to Aemond before the night’s end so that the child would not be a bastard.”

“I would never agree to wed Aemond,” (y/n) countered.

Alicent frowned. “You said you cared for him.”

“I have vowed to never marry. I told you as much.” (y/n) wrapped her arms around herself.

“You would risk bringing ruin to your name, to your house, over a young girl’s foolish vow?” Alicent furrowed her brows.

“It is not a foolish vow. Besides, my family and my people do not harbor the same hatred for bastards as yours does. As you have said, we have queer customs.”

Alicent scoffed but (y/n)’s words felt like a slap to her face. “You would rob me of my grandchild?”

“You would claim a bastard as your grandchild?,” (y/n) retorted.

Alicent closed her eyes, the Princess sought to vex her and Alicent would not give the satisfaction.

“This discussion is foolish. The rumor is false. You do not carry any grandchild of mine. Swear to me that I will not hear word of another rumor of you and the Prince. If I do I’m afraid I’ll have to send you back to Sunspear for your own good.”

Rage arose anew in (y/n). “That’s it? You come into my chambers, accuse me of being your son’s whore, then threaten to send me home if the gossips at court choose to spread lies of me? Not even an apology?”

Alicent threw her hands up in frustration. “What would you have me say Princess? Anyone else would have sent you home the very first time you allowed yourself to be caught in such a scandal. As your friend I have been more than understanding.”

“My friend?” (Y/n) clutched the rag tight in her hands. “You are no friend of mine, your grace.”

Alicent’s heart sank. “Princess…”

“You need not wait for another rumor. I wish to return to Dorne,” (y/n) declared as she stepped away from the Queen.

Fresh tears stained the sides of Alicent’s face. “I will not send you.”

“So you threaten to send me away because of gossip but refuse to when I ask it of you?” (y/n) looked at the Queen. She cursed the day she had ever agreed to be her lady in waiting.

The Queen reached out to (y/n) once more.

This time (y/n) did not step away. Alicent gripped the Princess’ hand as a sinner cleaves to salvation.

“I was only doing my duty, (y/n) you must understand,” Alicent pleaded.

(y/n) let out a humorless laugh and tore her hand free from the Queen’s grasp. “So you may forgo my title in the name of friendship but when Aemond and I do I’m whoring myself out to him?”

Alicent looked at the ground. “I am truly sorry Princess. I should not have assumed the worst in you. Whatever offense I have wrought I will atone for just please...do not leave me.”

(y/n) walked to the other side of the room. Suddenly it was too small, too suffocating. “It is not the accusations or the offense that compels me to seek my home.”

Alicent looked up at the Princess and furrowed her brows. “Then I do not understand why you wish to leave?”

(y/n) wished to cry but there weren’t any tears left inside her to shed. “Because I cannot stay in the Keep any longer.”

Alicent closed the distance between the Princess and herself. “You must tell me why you wish to leave.”

“I cannot, your grace.” (y/n) could feel the Queen behind her. She betrayed her body’s instinct to lean into the Queen.

“If you will not tell me of your own accord then I command you as the Queen of the seven kingdoms to tell me the truth.”

Frustration grew in Alicent. The Princess had never withheld anything from her before. That was one of the many reasons Alicent enjoyed her company. The Princess’ honesty was what Alicent valued the most about her.

(y/n) turned to face the Queen, painfully aware of how close their bodies had become. “You know not what you ask of me your grace.”

“If you do not tell me then I will not allow you to leave.”

(y/n) reached out and held The Queen’s hands. “Your grace please I can’t.”

Alicent shook her head. “Do not make an enemy of me Princess. I will post guards at your door and forbid anyone to enter or leave your chambers without my explicit permission.”

(y/n) dropped her hold of the Queen’s hands. “You wish to make me a prisoner? I am a princess of Dorne.”

“And I am Queen,” Alicent proclaimed as she stood to her full height.

“You would declare war on Dorne just to keep me here? My father would send hoards of his men to free me.” (y/n) did not recognize the woman that stood in front of her.

Alicent gripped (y/n)’s shoulders and pulled her close. “I would strike down every man who dared attempt to take you away from me.”

A shameful longing overwhelmed (y/n)’s senses. She had never been so close to the Queen. She stared at the Queen’s lips. “The truth you seek is not the truth you desire. If I tell you....you will hate me.”

Alicent cupped the Princess’ face. “I could never hate you.” She stroked the Princess’ cheek with her thumb. “What is so awful you cannot tell me? Is it me? Do you wish to leave because you can no longer stand the sight of me? I would not blame you. After all that I said to you tonight I would not blame you.”

Alicent followed the Princess’ gaze. (y/n) was staring at her lips. Alicent did the same. The Princess’ lips were plump, and Alicent let herself wonder what they would feel like.

(y/n) sighed. She no longer had the strength to argue. “I love you,” she whispered.

The Queen’s gaze met (y/n)’s. “What?”

“I wish to leave because you have shattered my heart. You insulted my home, my people, you thought me capable of treason and yet I am not free of my agonizing yearning for you, your grace.” (y/n) leaned into the Queen’s touch.

“You know not what you say Princess.” Alicent’s hands dropped from the Princess’ face.

(y/n) frowned. “You did not allow me the courtesy of keeping these thoughts to myself. Is this not what you desired to hear?”

Alicent shook her head. “No, you are.....you,” Alicent’s chest heaved. She ran to the window, she needed air.

The dormant affliction that had long plagued her, and had threatened to break free of the prison she had built around it, now ripped her chest apart. Alicent could not control her breathing. She clutched her chest.

“Your grace,” (y/n) called out. She ran to Alicent’s side. “I’m sorry your grace. I am so sorry. I have caused this,” (y/n) rambled.

Alicent turned her head and met (y/n)’s gaze. She saw the fear, and the tender affection, written all over the Princess’ face. With her free hand she reached out to cup the Princess’ cheek.

The affliction broke free. Alicent could fight it no longer.

She leaned towards the Princess, and closed her eyes. She could no longer fight her desires.

(y/n) watched as the Queen leaned in. (y/n) stared at the Queen’s lips. This was it.

Later, Alicent would thank the Gods for coming to her aide. Whether it was divine intervention or Alicent’s inability to truly let herself choose happiness, Alicent pulled away. She had a duty. She had to uphold her family’s honor. Her happiness mattered not.

Alicent pushed past the Princess and towards the chamber door.

“I will have everything ready to take you back to Dorne in two days time. For the sake of peace between our kingdoms I will strike the filth which you have spoken here from my mind. We will say you are returning home because the pain of being without you family is too much. Goodnight Princess.”

Alicent opened the door and did not wait for (y/n) to reply. She did not even explain to Criston. She barreled down the corridor and did not stop until she reached her sleeping chamber.

Once she was truly alone Alicent sunk to the floor and sobbed. It was ruined. Everything was ruined.

She knew it would take every ounce of strength she had to banish the feelings swirling inside her back to the prison she had created for them. Alicent knelt and started to pray. She would pray for forgiveness. She would pray for the Gods to fix her as they had already done once. She would pray until her knees bled.

Alicent’s eyes felt heavy as the women around her talked aimlessly. She had not slept.

She had spent the remainder of her night praying. She prayed until Talya had come in to dress her to break fast with the King. Alicent had not noticed morning had come.

“Mother,” Helaena called.

Alicent’s eyelids fluttered opened. She turned to Helaena. “Yes my love?”

“Where is Princess (y/n)? I have not seen her all morning.” Helaena looked down at her needlework, a frown on her face.

Guilt tugged at Alicent’s heart.

“The Princess is preparing her things,” she replied. Then she turned to address the women of the circle. “She is leaving to Dorne in two days time.”

“What? Why?” Helaena asked.

“Being apart from her family for so long has caused her great pain. It would be cruel to keep her here any longer,” Alicent stated, her throat tightening with every lie she uttered.

“Really? One would not think she missed her family with the time she spends attached to Prince Aemond,” Lady Ambrose quipped.

The ladies of the circle giggled. Helaena furrowed her brow.

Anger pooled in Alicent’s stomach.

“As I recall, you were quite close with Ser Matthew Mullendore much like the Princess is now with my son.”

Lady Ambrose’s face went red. “Your grace I-,” she sputtered.

“It’s quite a shame your Lord father did not see him as a favorable match for you.”

Alicent turned to Lady Merryweather who sat next to Lady Ambrose.

“But it was a most gracious boon for your sister was it not Lady Merryweather?”

The ladies stilled. None met Alicent’s gaze.

Satisfied, Alicent stood up and smiled.

“I believe our work today is done. I hope you shall join me tomorrow.”

She left the ladies to their gossip as she strode to the door.

Two nights had passed and still Alicent had not slept. She could not. She could think of nothing but the Princess.

Hate. Desire. Resentment. Adoration. Every and all feelings brewed inside Alicent like a storm.

Then finally the day had come for the Princess to leave.

Alicent was torn between sending the Princess off and staying in her sitting chamber. It was polite to say goodbye but Alicent was not sure she could do it. She feared that if she saw the Princess her resolve would vanish.

But then the guards informed her that the Princess was not in her chambers.

So Alicent sent Ser Criston to the Godswood while she searched the library.

She cursed herself for not assigning guards to the Princess in her remaining time at the Keep.

To her dismay, and secretly relief, the Princess was not in the library. She begun to pace back and forth.

She prayed Ser Criston had better luck.

Ser Criston entered the library. Alicent still paced back and forth. She hurried to Criston as he entered.

“Did you find her?”

Criston looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry your grace. Princess (y/n) was not in the Godswood, or the clearing where Vhagar rests. I believe the Princess has fled the Keep.”

Alicent shook her head. “She would not do that.”

Aemond entered the library. He saw Ser Criston and his mother and froze.

“Mother..Cole..what are you doing here?”

Alicent turned to him. “Where is the Princess?”

“I do not know,” Aemond replied and looked away.

Alicent huffed. “I do not believe you. Aemond look at me. Where is the Princess?”

“I will not tell you.” Aemond clenched his jaw. “You are the reason she is leaving. This is all your fault.”

“You stupid boy,” Alicent gripped Aemond’s face by his chin and forced him to look at her. “This is for your own good.”

“Yours or mine? I wished to marry her, and you send her away. You wish to make us all as miserable as you,” Aemond replied bitterly.

Alicent dropped her hold of Aemond. She stepped away from him. “I spared you the heartbreak of her true nature.”

Then she turned to Ser Criston.

“There is one place we have yet to look.”

Alicent walked out of the library with Ser Criston in tow.

The last place Alicent expected (y/n) to be was the sept. But there the Princess was, knelt before the altar of the Mother.

Was the Princess mocking her, Alicent thought.

Then she heard the Princess’ cries. Guilt overtook her.

Alicent shook her head. She could not waver. She had been cruel because she had to be. (y/n)’s departure would be the only way to rid Alicent of her own disgraceful feelings. She could live with Aemond’s disdain as she had lived with Viserys’ and Rhaenyra’s.

She turned to Criston and asked him to stand watch. He was not to let anyone enter. Criston nodded and took his leave. Then she turned back to where the Princess knelt and approached her.

Alicent stopped when she reached the Princess. She cleared her throat.

“It is time to leave Princess,” Alicent spoke.

(y/n) did not move. She did not even turn to acknowledge the Queen.

“We do not practice the faith as closely as you all do here. I have never really understood it. I’ve never been pious.”

Alicent rolled her eyes. She had no time for the Princess’ antics. “Princess, your wheelhouse is waiting.”

“Do you believe that I chose to feel the way that I do, your grace?” (y/n) lit another candle in front of her. She watched the flames dance.

“What does it matter,” Alicent replied with a sigh.

(y/n) turned her head towards the Queen. Her eyes were red and swollen. “I beg you to grant me this small kindness. Please answer my question.”

Alicent looked away from (y/n), remorse creeping up her spine at the sight of the Princess’ dreadful eyes. It seemed the Princess was intent on doing this on her terms. Alicent would play along if it meant the Princess would comply. She knelt down at the alter next to the Princess. Alicent made sure their elbows did not touch.

“I do not believe that you have chosen to feel that way,” Alicent said as she lit a candle of her own. “I believe you have been cursed with such tendencies,” she added softly.

(y/n) looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “I do not feel cursed,” she confessed.

Alicent turned to (y/n). “Then how do you feel?”

In the safety of the sept Alicent felt her resolve weaken. The Princess was clearly shaken, tired, and she looked as bad as Alicent felt. Alicent was not heartless. She realized she was not the only one in pain.

(y/n) brought her gaze back down to the candles in front of her. “I feel foolish.”

“Foolish? About....what you said,” Alicent asked hopefully.

Maybe there was a chance. Maybe she could forgive (y/n) under the guise of foolish youth as she had before. Maybe she could still keep (y/n) close. Alicent’s thoughts raced.

(y/n) shook her head. “I do not feel guilty for my tendencies, as you call them, but I do feel foolish that I believed you- ,” (y/n) stopped and turned to look at the Queen.

It was the first time she had seen the Queen since their fight. The Queen looked weary, and her eyes contained a sadness that (y/n) had not seen since her arrival at the Keep. A pang hit (y/n)’s side. She had done that. She had vanquished the Queen’s sadness but she had also brought it back.

“That I what...,” Alicent asked, a tremble in her voice.

Alicent’s nerves started to dance in her stomach. The Princess was about to do it again. She could feel it.

But the Princess didn’t.

(y/n) stood and turned away from the altar. “It does not matter. They are waiting for me,” she said and started for the entrance.

Alicent hurried after (y/n). Just as they passed a large pillar Alicent grabbed the Princess’ hand and pulled her behind it.

Once in the safety of the shadows Alicent pushed (y/n) up against the stone pillar. Her hand on (y/n)’s chest.

“What were you going to say?”

(y/n) would not meet her gaze. Alicent pressed (y/n)’s chest.

“Say it. Say it,” she demanded.

Tears started to form in (y/n)’s eyes.

“Does your cruelty know no bounds?” (y/n) turned her head to look at the Queen. “Do you derive some perverse pleasure from forcing me to bare my heart to you?”

Alicent’s eyes widened at the accusation. She felt a knot arise in her throat.

“I? I am cruel? I am not the one who ruined everything,” Alicent replied through gritted teeth.

(y/n) eyes burned hot with tears she dared not shed. The Queen’s hand on her chest pinned her to the cold stone but (y/n) would not deny how good the contact felt on her bare skin.

“You are the one who threatened to keep me prisoner if I did not reveal my truth.”

Now Alicent was the one with tears in her eyes. “Because I believed that I had lost your friendship. If I had known you would make such a declaration I would not have-”

(y/n)’s face contorted in rage. “So my friendship was worth waging war for but my love deserves nothing but banishment?” (y/n) reached up and gripped the Queen’s forearm, trying to get away but the Queen’s hold was firm.

Alicent leaned in closer to (y/n). “Do not call it love! Do not tarnish such a word with your sin.” Her words were vicious but her voice was pleading.

Tears blurred the Princess’ vision. She could no longer hold them back. So she let them fall. She shut her eyes and squeezed them tight.

“Then what should I call it?”

Alicent did not reply. She watched as tears fell down (y/n)’s face. She watched as they streamed down the Princess’ neck. She watched as they reached the tips of her fingers on (y/n)’s chest.

(y/n) opened her eyes and met the Queen’s gaze.

“What name can I give to the maddening, beguiling, the overwhelming adoration and affection.... the lust for you that plagues me night and day, that burns in every part of my body when you are next to me. Can you call it anything but love?”

Alicent’s heart beat loudly in her ears. She pressed (y/n) harder against the pillar.

“Do not taunt me Princess.”

(y/n) scoffed. “Do you believe me to be so wicked? That I would utter such falsehoods to make you suffer?”

“I do!”

Alicent dropped her hand from the Princess’ chest. She closed the gap between then and hooked her finger under the Princess’ chin.

“I have not known a moment’s peace since your declaration. Your wickedness has consumed me. It has seeped into my veins. I feel your words in the deepest parts of me and they have filled my mind with desires that I know will lead me to ruin.” Alicent brought the Princess’ face closer to hers. “Your very presence threatens to cut the bare thread from which my will and honor hang. Another honeyed word for your lips and I fear I will succumb to temptation.”

(y/n) felt the Queen’s breath on her lips. This was the closest they had ever been. All (y/n) had to do was lean in and she would feel the Queen’s lips on her own.

(y/n) swallowed hard. If she was to be banished she would at least go with the satisfaction of knowing what the Queen’s lips felt like. (y/n) pulled the Queen’s finger away with one hand and palmed the back of the Queen’s head with the other.

“Then allow me to atone and purge my wickedness from your heart.”

(y/n) held the Queen still as she inched forward and let her lips brush against the Queen’s.

“Silence me forever with your kiss, my Queen,” (y/n) breathed.

Alicent surged forward and crashed her lips against (y/n)’s. The Queen's hands cupped (y/n)’s face.

(y/n)’s hands settled on the Queen’s hips, gripping onto them until her knuckles turned white. She would not let the Queen pull away. She would not allow the Queen to retreat into herself. They would kiss until their lungs burned.

Even then, (y/n) told herself she would let her world turn to darkness and never wake before she stopped kissing her Queen.

#house of the dragon imagine #alicent higtower imagine #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower

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late-to-the-party-81 · 7 months

Text

The best laid plans...

AN: This silly little fic was written for @buckybarnesbingo Square C5: A picture of Bucky waiting against a wall, holding a gun. I hope you enjoy the sass and crack. Thanks to @drabbles-mc for cheerleading and beta-ing

Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Moodboard by me, with robot image by Rafael Amarante

Master list| BBB Master list

Summary: Bucky and Nat had a date night planned, but you know what’s said about best laid plans?

Relationships: Established Bucky x Nat, Established Sam x Steve, Cap Quartet friendship.

Word Count: 2.4k

CW: Crack, Sass, Snark, Flirting, Innuendo, Swearing, Robots being smashed, a bad-guy getting his come-uppance, Sam and Steve are like a pair of horny teenagers, Bucky is done, Nat is always right.

Bucky came to a halt a few feet from the bunker entrance, his back pressed to the smooth, grey concrete with his assault rifle held in his right hand. Snowflakes swirled around him.

This was not how he’d intended spending his Friday, but here he was. The bad-guys never had any respect for his plans, the bastards. Or rather his and Nat’s plans. Not that they’d had anything major organised, just a quiet night in, the pair of them, the cat’s, a box set, some wine and some blini’s. Maybe a little ‘something-something’ later on, if he played his cards right.

But, here he was, in the freezing cold - and god-knows he hated the cold for many legitimate reasons - waiting for the signal from Nat, before the pair of them stormed in to save Sam and Steve from whatever-the-fuck mess the pair of them had managed to get themselves in to. If Bucky recalled the briefing notes he’d skimmed over on the way here, it was robots of some sort. Which was better than aliens, and a one hundred percent improvement on wizards. That Strange guy gave him the willies, despite Tony’s assurance that his cough friend was on their side. He still wasn’t sold on Howard’s son’s judgement, despite the years that had passed since the ‘Siberia Incident’.

Robots, though - he could handle those. To steal a line from Bruce, with robots he could “smash”, and not feel bad. Not that he felt bad when he punched aliens. Or wizards. But robots were like Nazi’s. Not sentient in Bucky’s humble opinion.

He did briefly wonder how Steve and Sam had managed to get themselves captured, but that knowledge would wait for later. They’d probably got distracted from the mission because they were making out or something equally as stupid. They could at least keep the PDAs to a minimum in the field, like he and Nat did. Although he did get it - Steve could let himself be seen now, in a way he hadn’t been able to back in the day. And Bucky wasn’t blind, Sam was an attractive man, even if he did act like a cocky dickhead about it ninety nine percent of the time.

“Stupid Steve and stupid Sam.” He hadn’t even realised he’d muttered under his breath until a slightly tinny voice sounded in his ear.

“Be nice, Yasha. They are our friends after all. Even if they did ruin our date night.”

Bucky’s lips twitched upwards at Nat’s admonishment. “Can you blame me, malyshka? I was looking forward to a night-in with my best girls. All cuddled up together, all cosy. Maybe a bit of kissing, a bit of…”

“Okay, cool it lover-boy. I don’t think Al and Liho would be appreciative of your kisses.”

Bucky’s smile broadened and he let a bit of ‘40’s’ into his voice. “Is that your way of saying that you would be?”

“I plead the fifth.” He could hear the smile in Nat’s voice. “Now, get ready. I’ve almost reached the East Entrance. We need to breach together.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, glad that Nat wouldn’t be able to see.

“Not my first time out, Natalia. Just because Steve likes to go in without a plan and Sam seems to have adopted his technique, doesn’t mean I’ve lost my sense of strategy. I’m ready on your mark. As always.”

“The way it should be. But James, don’t roll your eyes at me. You know how it annoys me when you’re passive aggressive. Now…breach!”

Bucky pushed away from the wall and kicked in the door. He rolled through the opening, coming to a halt on his knees, gun raised.

There wasn’t anyone or anything there.

“No bogies here, Nat. You?”

“Nothing. It’s suspiciously quiet.”

Bucky rose to his feet and slung his rifle over his shoulder.

“I’ll work myself toward the centre and meet you there. First to find our disaster gays buys pizza.”

He heard Nat laugh over the comms, clear and unaffected. “You always make it so easy for me, kotenok.”

“Only because you’re easy for me.” Bucky couldn’t help but tease her. He could imagine the faint pink blush dusting her cheekbones about now. She was probably doing that cute nose wrinkle too.

“Bucky!” Nat hissed, but her tone didn’t hold any real censure.

“Okay, okay. I’m all business now. I promise. See you soon.”

Bucky pulled one of his knives from its sheath, gave it a cursory flip to check the balance, and then made his way toward the next door. If there was anything behind it, it would know Bucky was there - he hadn’t exactly been quiet when he’d come through the first door. He placed himself on the hinge side of the door, noting that this one opened towards him, and with a steadying breath, he pulled it open.

Immediately, laser blasts peppered the space Bucky would have been standing in if he’d opened the door like a normal person. He observed the rhythm of the shots for a few seconds, then rounded the door, his knife flying forward from his hand. There was a satisfying thunk, followed by a crash as the robot landed on the floor. Bucky walked towards the pile of metal, taking in its form as he pulled his knife from its ocular sensor. Why mad scientists had to mimic human biology by putting the CPU in the most obvious place constantly baffled him, but at least it made it easy.

He didn’t have long to ponder though. He heard a whirring noise and looked up to see four more robots bearing down on him. Sheathing his knife, Bucky unslung his rifle, holding it in his right hand. With his left he picked up the late robot to use as a shield. He felt the impact of the laser blasts, and peaked around the metal shell to aim his weapon. He squeezed the trigger, letting off three bullets at a time, and kept moving forward. One of the robots wouldn’t go down, so as Bucky approached it, he decided to use the one he was holding as a bludgeon. There was the screech of metal on metal, and the fizzing of wires as they broke, still sparking, then there was a pile of twisted steel on the floor. He opened his comms.

“Everything okay, sweetheart? I’ve had a few tin cans to deal with over here.”

“Doing fine, baby. Hang on…” Nat went silent for a moment, but Bucky knew it was just because she was concentrating. He heard the high-pitch whine of her Widow’s Bite deploying, followed by a hollow clang sound and then she was back. “How many have you taken out?”

Bucky looked around him.

“Five.”

“Ha! Six. I’m winning.”

“Malyshka, our competition isn’t about numbers, remember?” Bucky drawled, letting a small amount of condescension into his voice.

“Yours might not be, but mine is.” God, he loved this woman. She challenged him everyday and he couldn’t get enough.

“Always gotta be the winner, huh?”

“No ‘gotta’ about it. Just ‘am’, kitten.” He could see her smirk in his head. She was probably coyly twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she spoke as well. “Now, I gotta get into that next room.”

The comm line went quiet again and Bucky smiled to himself as he thought about all the ways he was gonna worship her when they got home. After he’d torn a strip off Steve and Sam for being idiots. However, he had to find them first.

He wasn’t surprised to discover more robots as he entered the next area of the bunker. They weren’t too difficult to deal with, especially considering how frustrated Bucky was feeling. A couple of laser shots grazed his jacket, the burning leather smell filling his nose unpleasantly. A replacement jacket was definitely coming out of Steve’s pocket.

Six more robots lay in a sparking, dented mess on the floor, but he just walked around them, moving forward. It was only a minute until he came upon a bulkhead door, the mechanism for opening it on his side. Bucky could also see that the door was dented, hit from the inside in what he assumed was an attempt to open it from the other side by someone exceedingly strong. It would take a lot to deform it like that.

“If you’re not behind this door, Steve”, Bucky muttered under his breath, “I’m gonna kill you.” He reshouldered his rifle and grabbed hold of the bulkhead wheel. It was tightly closed and the metal groaned under Bucky’s hands as he turned it. “Fuck Sam and fuck Steve, idiotic, stupid idiots.” He didn't know exactly what he was going to find when he got in there, but he wasn’t too worried. They might have some scrapes and bruises, at the worst be unconscious, but they were tough and no two-bit robot maker was going to get the best of them. Not for long anyway.

The catch on the door fully opened and Bucky pulled it ajar. He slipped through but came to a dead halt at what he saw. This was definitely not what he expected to find. In fact, he was so taken aback that he didn’t notice the door swinging shut behind him, until he heard the clunk.

Sam and Steve leapt apart. Steve’s short blond hair was sticking up all over the place, evidence of Sam’s fingers having been threaded through it. Both their lips were kiss swollen, and their chests were heaving. Steve pulled the shield across his lap. Sam just used his hands to cover his crotch.

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut. “Really, guys? You get stuck in the lair of a mad robot inventor, so you just end up making out like teenagers?” Steve flushed, his ears going bright pink, but Sam just gave Bucky a grin.

“What can I say, man. Stevie boy can’t keep his hands off me, even when we’re in mortal danger.”

Steve shot Sam a glare. “It wasn’t like that. We tried to get out, but the doors were too thick, and glass didn’t want to break either.” Steve waved over to the far wall, which was half glass, and appeared to have some kind of observation room on the other side. There was a door in that wall too, as equally as dented as the one Bucky had come through, giving credence to Steve’s story that they’d at least attempted to get out before getting bored and starting to get handsy with each other. “We knew you’d come when we didn’t check in, so we were just waiting. But you’re here now.”

“Unfortunately, though,” Sam drawled, “Because you let that door shut behind you, we’re now all stuck.”

“As long as you two don’t start sucking face again.” Bucky made a gagging noise.

“No chance of that, Bucko. Don’t you know that cyborgs kill the mood,” Sam fired back.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and cocked his hip. “Nat doesn’t seem to think so.” He held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers, the vibranium plates clinking and servos whirring. “In fact she…”

“...Would most likely kill you for having this conversation.” Steve cut him off. “And speaking of Nat…”

Steve pointed into the observation room, where the door into it had burst open and a man in a white lab coat and goggles was staggering through it, a very angry Russian redhead sat atop his shoulders. Nat rained blows down onto the man's face before doing her patented twisty thing where she spun herself down and hurled the guy across the room by his neck. He crashed into a table which had various electronics and tools across it, and didn’t get up. Nat, of course, landed on her feet and tossed her hair back. At that moment, Bucky didn’t think he could love her more.

Nat walked over to the control panel, a swagger in her steps. She peered down at it for a few moments and then pressed a button. The door to the side of the glass opened with a creak and Nat sauntered over and pushed it further open.

“I win, kotenok.”

Bucky reached in a few long strides and, in an uncharacteristic display of public affection, wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close.

“How do you figure that, sweetheart? I was obviously here first, and we haven’t done the final count of robots dispatched.” He smiled down at her and brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face.

“But I took out him,” she jerked her head in the direction of the felled robot creator, “and you got yourself trapped in with Dumb and Dumber over there. I think that means I can rightly claim the win.”

Somewhere behind them, Sam shouted out “Hey!” but both Bucky and Nat ignored him.

“You think, do you? I’m not sure I agree.” Bucky’s lips twisted up into an amused smile and Nat reached up and bopped her finger against the tip of his nose.

“Of course you don’t agree. You’re always wrong, Yasha. Now, let’s get home and you and I can try and salvage the rest of date night. You owe me a pizza.” She slipped effortlessly from his hold and spun away. Bucky looked over his shoulder at Steve and Sam and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say ‘what are you gonna do?’ and followed in her wake, picking up their unconscious captive and throwing him over his shoulder on the way.

They got outside and as they neared the two jets Bucky looked over at Nat, silent communication passing between them. She jogged towards the jet they’d arrived in for their rescue mission and Bucky peeled off toward the one that Sam and Steve had used. He jogged up the ramp ahead of his friends, and as he reached the top he pressed the ramp close button and dumped the robot maker on the floor.

“Um, Buck… What are you doing?” Steve called out to him through the narrowing gap. Bucky grinned back. “It’s only a two hour flight back to the compound. Surely you can wrap your legs around your boyfriend for that long.” He shot a wink at their outraged faces as the ramp closed and then whistled to himself as he made his way to the cockpit.

Childish? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

Bucky sat down in the pilot’s seat, put the headphones on and switched to his and Nat’s private comms channel as he started the jet up.

“So, malyshka, what do you want on your pizza?”

Tag list: @km-ffluv @christywrites @alexakeyloveloki @doasyoudesireandlive

#winterwidow #bucky x natasha #buckynat #crack #late writes #samsteve #cap quartet

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illneverrecover · 1 year

Text

make it right - epilogue | kth & knj (M)

➛pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader ft. Kim Namjoon x reader ➛summary: He had offered to be there with you when you read it, which you had considered. He has always been supportive of you and your emotions, and you knew you could rely on him to be your rock through this, too, should you need it. But there was a little piece of you that felt it was important to be willing to face this alone; willing to face the consequences and fallout of your actions without the crutch of your current love. ➛genre: starting out musician!AU, smut, angst. SMANGST. ➛word count: 5327 ➛rating: explicit/mature ➛warnings: mentions of previous infidelity, mentions of mature situations, a lot of talk about healing and self reflection, also about self growth, cursing, previous installments contain smut. ➛notes: Well this was a long, long time coming. If you’ve stuck around this long - I appreciate you more than you will know! Many apologies for the wait, but damn, was life being a bitch for a hot minute. This was very cathartic for me to write for many reasons, and I hope you enjoy! Just to be clear, this series isn’t here to romanticize infidelity, or make light of it -- but instead show how things aren’t always so black and white in real life. In reality, there are numerous, messy shades of grey, and things can become complicated very easily. This is barely edited and completely unbeta’ed, as I’m trying to be more authentic and less of a perfectionist when it comes to my writing as a personal goal in 2023. It’s been holding me back for far too long, and I’ve missed being creative. Be gentle, and let me know what you think! (P.S. - if you pick up on the TS reference, pls know I’m giving you a forehead kiss) ➛song: everythinggoes (with Nell) - RM, NELL & Girl of My Dreams (with SUGA) - Juice WRLD, SUGA, BTS ➛tagging: @jimins-ass-eater, @thatlongspringnight ➛Chapter 1 ➛ Chapter 2 ➛ Chapter 3

Everything, everything, everything goes

Time passes. Despite change, despite everything moving and falling apart and rebuilding again, time always passes. It is unavoidable, it is necessary. It is healing simply in its existence.

Namjoon sees that now more than anything.

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year – a year since you walked out, since everything changed. Since his actions and inactions had finally caught up to him, and so had the consequences.

He wanted to blame you. It would be easier to do so, he thought in the beginning, considering how everything fell apart. But it wouldn’t be honest, and it wouldn’t make him feel any better. He thought himself a good man, after all, and good men accept the fallout from their misdeeds. They dig deep and do some introspection and maybe see a therapist, and they try to be better.

He wanted to be better.

It wasn’t easy. Looking into the depths of his mind and soul and inspecting his worst flaws is a raw, painful thing at any time, but especially after what had happened. He meditated more, channeled his feelings into his writing in the studio, and continued to work on himself. His relationship with the new producer, Mina, continued to blossom, but this time without the tainting of his indiscretions, without the shame and guilt. Namjoon found what grew between them was more beautiful this way; tending to the soil and ensuring proper watering allowed him to be his sincere, natural self, giving way to a love that came easy.

It was hard when Yoongi left the studio, though Namjoon would be lying if he said he didn’t see it coming. It was on good terms, thanks to both of them being pragmatic despite their friendship, but it still stung. Another consequence to his transgressions, another person affected by his shortcomings. Yoongi had told him he was thinking of opening his own studio for a while, but Namjoon was almost positive the incident (and the aftermath) is what accelerated his timeline and had him leaving a few months later.

Taehyung’s resignation had been less surprising, though equally professional. He offered to finish out his contract or to leave immediately – not wanting to leave the studio hanging, but also knowing the position this was putting Namjoon in. Namjoon could appreciate the gesture, even through the betrayal, and allowed the younger man to finish up some tracks and part ways amicably. It wasn’t long before Taehyung’s name was being released as Yoongi’s first talent, and though it felt like someone had punched him in the chest, Namjoon couldn’t help but be proud.

He would always support them, even if they didn’t know it.

He poured himself into his work, into his music. His first passion, his first love. She always welcomed him with warm arms, always gave him confidence and solitude to work through whatever melodies and cacophonies were clouding his mind. And as he worked through self reflection and discovery, she was there to help him work through the tougher emotions, the painful feelings, until he had a full fledged album. A raw and new piece of his soul, ready to share with the world, whenever Namjoon was ready to be vulnerable.

So much had changed in a year. He isn’t sure if this present version of himself would even recognize the Namjoon from before, the person that he was. But he knows he wants to continue to impress that version of himself, and make him proud.

He was ready to share his music — and himself — with the world, but before he could, he needed to do one last thing.

Taehyung wasn’t sure why Namjoon had wanted to see him.

His mind began racing the minute he received the text, saw the name that he hadn’t had the guts to ever delete or block from his phone. It had been almost a year since he had last been in communication with the man, when he had put in his notice at the studio.

So much had changed in a year. He had signed with Yoongi, worked extremely hard in the new studio, and was making music he was really, really proud of. And to top it all off, he was doing it with you by his side, out in the open, for the world to see. No longer having to hide his love was one of the best things to ever happen to Taehyung, and he’d never tire of basking you in it.

But Namjoon had asked to meet for coffee, and Taehyung couldn’t think of a reason to say no. If anything, he felt like he owed his old friend - his hyung, his brother - the time and space to say whatever it was he wanted to him. It was the least he could do, considering.

Taehyung doesn’t regret loving you, but the guilt still gnaws at him from time to time over how things went down with Namjoon. It was you who would always reassure him that if anyone was to blame, it was you, and would help him work through his feelings.

He had thought about reaching out to Namjoon in the months following the aftermath – to apologize, to explain where he was coming from, how genuine his feelings were for you, that he never meant to hurt him – but realized that this would only be to assuage his own shame and guilt, not because it would be anything that Namjoon actually needed to hear. That didn’t seem fair to put on him, after everything else, and so he vowed to keep his apologies to his journal for the time being. Resolved that if Namjoon wanted closure, he would let him know.

Taehyung hopes that’s what this meeting is about, if he’s being honest with himself. He has run this scenario through his head a million times, and out of all the conclusions he could reach, it would be the ideal one. Certainly, Namjoon would have every right to ask him to meet up if only to have a chance to give him a solid sucker punch in the face, and Taehyung wouldn’t be able to fault him for that.

But despite knowing that things will never be the same, he would at least like for there to be peace between the two of them, for your sake if nothing else.

The coffee shop is spacious, well lit by the copious windows adorning the front of the building, and fairly quiet, considering its size. Mismatched plush couches and chairs decorated the room alongside coffee tables of varying shapes and forms, surrounded by walls lined with bookshelves stuffed to the brim. It is a very Namjoon place to pick, Taehyung thinks, deciding to peruse the menu and order before searching for his friend.

He finds Namjoon in a back corner, tucked in an alcove that is built into the bookshelves, the only booth in the entire shop. He has one hand cupped around a mug of hot liquid, the other scrolling his phone, not seeing Taehyung approach.

Taking a deep breath, Taehyung slides himself into the booth opposite him.

“Hey,”

Namjoon’s eyes flick up, surprise on his face quickly melting into a familiar grin. “Hey, Taehyung. How are you? You look well,”

Taehyung lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulders relaxing at the elder’s tone. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m doing well. How about you? You look great,” he compliments, realizing that he means it. Namjoon has more life and color in his face than Taehyung remembered seeing in years, a new softness in his eyes that makes him seem lighter, more free. “You look happy.”

“Thank you, I’m getting there,” Namjoon chuckles, a shy smile on his face. “It’s been a lot of work, but it’s been worth it.”

For a moment, they just smile and nod at each other, a comfortable and familiar silence stretching between them. There’s so much that Taehyung wants to ask, that he wants to say, but he follows Namjoon’s lead, instead sipping on his hot chocolate while he waits for the other man to speak.

“So, there’s some things that I need to say to you. And it might be a lot, and I’ll probably talk for a stupid amount of time, but I’m asking for you to listen ‘til the end, if you could,” Namjoon pauses then, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he winces. “If it’s too much, or if you don’t have the time for this, then I understand completely, but–”

“No, of course I have time, it’s okay. I want to hear what you have to say.” Taehyung reassures, giving him a nod. “Whatever you need.”

Namjoon smiles, taking a deep breath.

“When I first met Y/N, she was… the brightest light,” he looks down at his drink, face softening. “So bright that she drew everyone to her like moths to flame. I was so drawn to her, so attracted to her light. That first night at the karaoke bar, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She was shining so bright, and everyone was watching. I normally wouldn’t approach someone in a bar, but it was like I couldn’t help myself. I knew I’d kick myself if I didn’t go over, or if someone else did first, so I finally went up to her. Told her some corny joke, and she laughed hysterically.” He laughs to himself, and Taehyung smiles. That sounds like the you he knows, too. “And the moment she laughed, I was instantly hooked. I asked for her number, about floating out of that bar when she kissed me. We became inseparable. Spent all of our time together, and the rest happened quickly. I’m sure you know how she is – it’s so easy to get wrapped up in her warmth, her fire.”

Taehyung dips his chin, his lips curling into a smirk against his volition. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Namjoon’s jaw flexes at those words, otherwise he seems to have no reaction, swallowing before he continues.

“After she moved in, things were good – comfortable, a little predictable, but good. I felt safe and confident, knowing that she was always there, always around when I needed a bit of that light. And eventually, that comfort became complacency.” Namjoon shakes his head, drawing another breath. “I started taking advantage of the fact that she would be there when I needed. I got wrapped up in my music, and instead of trying to bring her into that with me, or share that piece of myself, I shut her out. Told myself she wouldn’t understand. Convinced myself that it would be okay once my hard work paid off and she could see the final product. But looking back, it was all excuses to be selfish and to do whatever I wanted, knowing that she loved me enough to put up with it.”

“I’m not proud of myself for that. There’s thousands, millions of different ways that you can kill the person you love. The slowest way is not loving them enough, not giving them enough of your time – but not having the strength to let them go. She tried talking to me, telling me what she needed from me, begging me to spend time with her, and instead of being strong enough to let her go, I kept making promises I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep. It was fucked up, what I did. I just- I wasn’t ready to lose that fire,”

Taehyung didn’t trust his voice, so instead he nods, easily empathizing with the older man. He intimately knows that fire that Namjoon spoke of, understood its siren call, the unbelievable warmth it is to be loved by you. But at the same time, he realizes how much Namjoon’s admission gets under his skin – knowing that you were in that much pain, remembering seeing you suffer, watching you fall apart and try to hide it from everyone – it angers him, hearing Namjoon own to the fact that he knew he was hurting you, but didn’t walk away.

He must not be schooling his face as well as he thinks, because Namjoon sighs as he rubs his face with his hand. “I get it. Trust me, I know it wasn’t okay. But when you’ve been in the dark for so long, finding someone like Y/N – you want to be loved by her, want just a piece of that for yourself. I’m not justifying my actions, but hopefully explaining where my mind was at the time,” he continues, taking a sip of his drink. “I was already not being the man she needed, already not meeting her expectations. And when Mina started at the studio, and started helping me with some of the tracks… I hate to say it, but it was easy to let myself get distracted. I was so wrapped up in myself and what was going on with me, I didn’t see just how far away she had slipped - not only emotionally, but physically, intimately. It seemed like it went from incessant texts about when I was coming home, begging to spend time with me, to… nothing at all. She went radio silent, started going out of the house more, started hanging around you guys more. I remember thinking to myself, ‘Well at least it seems like she’s found something to entertain herself, now she won’t always worry about me’. How clueless could I be? So fucking stupid, and selfish.”

Namjoon gives the younger man a moment to process his words before he continues. “After everything went down, I… I’m not proud of this, but I got drunk one night, and I kinda begged some information off of Jimin,” Namjoon winces again, casting his eyes down. “It’s not Jimin’s fault, I think he honestly just felt bad for me, so please don’t be upset with him. He really didn’t tell me much, but he confirmed that… the two of you,” he gestures with his hands towards Taehyung, “ started… being together on her birthday.”

Taehyung feels his heart drop in his chest, his pulse racing at the admission, unsure of why the fact that Namjoon now knew this piece of information makes him feel a bit more ashamed.

“Which means, it started way after she had ‘the talk’ with me, way after she began to pull away and I just let her go – hell, encouraged it, even. When she showed up at the apartment the day I found out, Y/N kept telling me it didn’t matter what happened, or who’s fault it was… that we had both done hurtful things and it was time to move on. And I think even with her saying that, even as she was breaking things off with me, she was still trying to protect me in a way. Still trying to shoulder all of the blame, especially because of the affair. But the truth is, I don’t blame her for any of it. I blame myself.”

He meets Taehyung’s gaze straight on. “I may not have physically cheated, and sure, she may have been the first to step out, but what choice did I leave her? I abandoned her long before she got together with you. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I woke up one day and I stopped choosing her, and started only choosing myself. And the worst part is, she fought to try and fix things between us, and it was like I had blinders on. I still couldn’t stop choosing myself. I was so damn cocky, so sure of myself…” He swallows thickly. “She still fought, still chose me over and over, so it never crossed my mind that she would cheat. But honestly, I don’t blame her. She wasn’t being taken care of the way she should, the way she deserved.”

Taehyung is surprised to see tears welling in Namjoon’s eyes; the sheer amount of emotion he is willing to share in front of him shocking overall. Namjoon always keeps things so close to the chest.

“And then you swooped in and saved the day,” Namjoon continues, giving the younger man a wry grin. “Again, I get it. I can understand why you were drawn to her, why you were drawn to each other. I was mad, at first. Jealous mostly, if I was being honest with myself, but that’s because I’ve always been a bit possessive. But the more I sat with my thoughts, the more I realized that I was… relieved. Relieved to know that she had someone during that time, that she was being taken care of in all the ways that I failed to. Relieved to know that it was with someone that I know and trust to truly have her best interest at heart. That if it was anyone, it was you.”

Now it’s Taehyung’s turn to have his smile turn watery and soft. “Namjoon, I-”

“No, you promised to let me finish, remember?”

He doesn’t wait for confirmation before speaking again. “I know it sounds crazy, but that's why I asked you to come here. I wanted..” he trails away, hands fidgeting in his lap until his eyes snap to Taehyung. “I wanted to thank you, for taking care of her, for loving her. The way she should be… the way I couldn’t.” He doesn’t hide his tears this time, instead letting one trail down his cheek. “And if it’s alright with you, I have basically written down what we spoke about today, and I would like to give this letter to her - along with the offer of a meet up, if she’d like. Before the album comes out.”

That gets Taehyung’s attention. “What do you mean? Is there something she should be worried about, or-?”

“N-No! No, not at all, nothing like that,” Namjoon waves off the concern with a hand. “But there are some emotional songs that I worked on after the break up, and it feels like the right thing to do would be to give her the chance to hear them first, before everyone else.”

There is nothing that comes to Taehyung’s mind that would be a good argument against that - Namjoon is right, it is the courteous thing to do, to allow her the privacy of that moment before the rest of the world had a chance to dissect it into a million pieces.

“And I didn’t want to reach out without talking to you first, out of respect for you both. It didn’t feel right approaching her directly… again, I want to give her time to process, you know?”

Taehyung nods in agreement, appreciating the foresight. “Thank you for that, I think that will mean a lot to her.”

“So you’ll give it to her? The letter?”

There is a part of Taehyung that didn’t want to, if he was being honest, didn’t know if it’s worth reopening the old wounds that you had worked so hard to close. That chapter of your life was something you worked hard to move past, and though you made it clear you wished Namjoon well, you hadn’t asked to meet up with him in the year since the split. There really hasn’t been a need to, once you got your things out of the apartment and moved into Taehyung’s place.

But if he makes that choice for you, would it be any better than what Namjoon had done? Would he be any better?

“Of course. I can’t promise she’ll want to meet, but – I’ll give it to her, I promise.”

Relief sags Namjoon’s shoulders, and he lowers his head in gratitude. “Thank you, that’s all I ask. And thank you again, for meeting with me today. I promise my only intention here is closure, and respect.”

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say something now?”

“Taehyung, you really don’t have to, there isn’t anything to say–”

“Just let me get this off my chest, please,” Taehyung begs, a hint of desperation in his gaze. “I know this probably doesn’t mean much, and I completely understand why… but for the record, I am so sorry that I hurt you. I wish it hadn’t come to that.”

“Come on, Tae, like I said-”

“Let me finish.” Taehyung raises his voice slightly, just enough that Namjoon knows he’s serious. “I sincerely mean that. I don’t regret being with Y/N, and I won’t pretend to. I really do love her, and your words and… approval,” he chokes on the word, as if the marvel of it isn’t lost on him, “mean more to me than I think you can understand. But I really hate that you were hurt in the process, regardless of what was going on at the time.”

Namjoon waits, taking another sip of his drink to ensure Taehyung is finished before speaking again.

“Apology accepted. I appreciate you saying that, really. But I mean… what would you have done differently? No matter what choices were made, the outcome was inevitable. She was never going to tolerate my shit forever, and it was the catalyst. Considering I wasn’t exactly innocent in my behaviors, either, I get it. It wasn’t okay, what any of us did, but I get it.”

The world is never as black and white as we would like it to be, never as quickly and neatly explained as the human brain would prefer. There are many shades of the foggy grays and dark misty blacks and every level of fading ink in between, a messy cacophony of varying gradients. If anyone can understand that, it’s Taehyung.

“That’s probably the best way to put it. It wasn’t okay, but I get it. What you did, what we all did. But I do think people are capable of change, if they truly want it. And it sounds like you’ve come a long way,” Taehyung gives a wide grin then, feeling the lightest he has in a long time. “ I wish you nothing but luck and success in your journey - both with your love life and with your music. I genuinely mean that, Joon. We’ll always be rooting for you.”

Namjoon matches the younger man's carefree smile, any remaining tension easing away from his posture. “Thanks, bro. I’m always rooting for you guys, too. All of you - Yoongi included. If you ever need anything, even just some ears or a hype man, I’m here.”

More pleasantries and gratitudes are exchanged before Namjoon is standing, pulling Taehyung into a quick embrace before gearing up to leave the coffee shop, holding up a buzzing phone in explanation. “Sorry, I gotta take this - thanks again!”

Everything changes, and everything stays the same.

You aren’t sure how long you stare at the letter before you decide to open it. It must be a few hours at least, because Taehyung had given it to you in the bright light of early afternoon, and now the sky was turning faded pinks and oranges, sun ready to rest for the day.

He had offered to be there with you when you read it, which you had considered. He has always been supportive of you and your emotions, and you knew you could rely on him to be your rock through this, too, should you need it.

But there was a little piece of you that felt it was important to be willing to face this alone; willing to face the consequences and fallout of your actions without the crutch of your current love.

Your friends had rallied around you after the initial fallout, surprisingly, and though you weren’t sure you had deserved that, you certainly appreciated them for it. They gave you the confidence to keep moving forward, to battle with your demons, and you would always be grateful to them for showing up in your time of need.

You are stronger now, more healed than you were when you had last seen Namjoon a year ago. Not fully healed, because healing isn’t linear, but you are working on it and yourself. An excellent therapist had been the start of the self love journey, and it was with her help that you were able to confront some difficult truths and soothe old wounds, feeling more secure in your skin than you had in years.

You had even started working on your music again, though you could say that was Yoongi’s fault if anything, since he kept saying he was tired of you lounging around his studio for free. He had practically shoved you into the booth one day, asking for you to warm up and lay a raw track for some backing vocals to earn your keep, and you had complied easily. It wasn’t the worst thing he could have you doing there, and it soothed you to be able to work with music, even in a small capacity.

And Taehyung.

Taehyung had been amazing through it all; your grounding peace during the storm, your home in the form of a person. His devotion and endless understanding and love was more than you could dream of, more than you ever thought you would know, and you can’t help but to feel like the luckiest person in the world to get to experience it.

Picking up the letter, you take a deep breath, centering yourself before folding it open, eyes quickly scanning the words awaiting you.

He wasn’t mad, wasn’t angry. Instead, he was apologizing, giving explanations for his actions while telling you not to blame yourself, offering to meet up to talk things out if you’d like. Or if you didn’t want to talk, to at least get a copy of his new album so that you could listen to it before it dropped, since there were some personal songs included that he thought you may want to hear in private.

Overall, it was a short note; but kind, considerate. A softer side of the Namjoon you used to remember, from the early days.

You didn’t need to think about how you wanted to proceed, instead picking up your phone and sending a text to your ex-fiancé.

It had been you that insisted on meeting some place outside, wanting to keep the encounter quick and pleasant. You weren’t sure how he was going to reply to your text letting him know that you were willing to meet for the album, but not to talk, but in standard Namjoon style, he didn’t seem bothered. Taehyung told you he supported your decision no matter what, which you knew would be his response, but you truly didn’t feel the need to continue to hash this out. You had both apologized and moved on, and the past was in the past.

You certainly appreciate his dedication to his own healing, and can empathize with the need of writing a letter for closure, but that was enough for you. You didn’t need anything else in order to forgive him.

You had forgiven him long ago.

You and Taehyung made plans to listen to the album together, knowing that you would want his warmth and comfort both physically and emotionally during, and you let that thought comfort you as you walk towards the meeting point, eyes scanning the park for the taller man.

A tap on your shoulder has you turning, peering up at a dimpled grin.

“Hey,”

You give him a shy smile. “Hi, Joon.”

He has a small manila envelope in his hands, your name scrolled in black sharpie on the front, and his fingers tap against the material a few times before he thrusts it towards you.

“Well, here it is. It’s a USB, but it has all the songs plus the album concept art. I hope you like it, but uh, even if you don’t, I thought it was only right to let you hear it before everyone else does.”

His awkwardness makes you want to giggle, but you stifle the urge, not wanting to make him feel self conscious. Taking the parcel from his hands, you slide it in your bag before glancing back up at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate that. I’m sure I will like it. Your music has always been amazing.”

The tips of Namjoon’s ears start to redden, and he scoffs bashfully. “Ahh, you gotta warn me before you say nice things to me, I’m not prepared.”

You laugh then, his deeper chuckle joining in after a few moments, and it felt good to laugh so carefree with him again. Something you didn’t think you would ever have the chance to do.

“Well, it was good to see you, Joon. Thanks for this,” you tap your bag twice, “I’m excited to listen.”

“Thanks. It was good to see you as well, you look great. Really h-happy,” Namjoon stutters over his words, the sentiment rushing out, “It’s what you deserve - to be happy.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest, a piece of your soul healed by the words you didn’t know you needed to hear out loud.

“I am really happy,” you confirm, unable to hide your smile. “Like, almost disgustingly happy, it’s pretty annoying.”

You laugh, but this time he doesn’t join you.

“Good.”

And before you can think of how to reply, he’s gone, faded back into the bustle of the crowd like he was never there.

Taehyung already has your favorite wine opened by the time you arrive home, a glass placed in your hand once you walk through the door. He’s all easy smiles, nonchalant as he asks about the meeting, steadfast and attentive as he listens while putting the finishing touches on dinner.

He’s made one of your comfort meals, and you spoon it into bowls before carrying them into his office-slash-studio, cozying up on his lounger before putting the thumb drive into the computer. He queues it up, sliding the mouse closer to his reach as he settles beside you, pulling a blanket to cover your laps.

You hand him his bowl, and he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s quick, but there’s heat underneath the gentle pressure of his mouth.

“Are you ready?”

You look into his warm gaze, the affection evident in the soft way he drinks you in. He has one hand cupped around his bowl, the other on your thigh under the blanket, giving reassuring squeezes as the silence ebbs on.

It’s not that you were afraid of what you would hear, or that you thought Namjoon would do anything to hurt you. But you know hearing your previous relationship's downfall from his point of view could bring up some lingering pain, and you wanted to be able to process and work through it so you could continue to heal.

It’s what he deserved, what you all deserved.

The old version of you wouldn’t be able to handle this, certainly not next to someone like Taehyung. Wouldn’t be able to bear the vulnerability, or having a witness to the potential flood of emotions that could come at any moment. But over this past year, you’ve learned that you are worthy of a love that makes you feel safe enough to be your authentic self - and in turn to allow your true self to be loved.

You knew that you were safe, here under the blanket on the loveseat in Taehyung’s cozy little studio, next to the man you love.

“I’m ready.”

Just like the night leaves and the morning comes The spring leaves and summer comes, but Just like the flowers and summer sunshine Everything must be hurt Breathe the world The air in my lungs is full of cold air I want to run away From long hours of pain and dullness

Everyday I pray (everyday I pray) That I may become a slightly better adult And everyday I stay (everyday I stay) People die with their pain one day We can not be eternity in dream Words like "Cheer up" can not be real Instead of plausible words It hope it goes like a wind (Everything, everything, everything goes Everything everything else goes)

#taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenario #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon scenario #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #taehyung fanfic #my writing #fic: make it right #fic: mir #fic: make it right epilogue #overly affectionate demon #bamjoon

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offlineblues · 5 months

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really wish when people are talking about characterization for vrains that they didn't interchangeably refer to the sub and dub characters as the same people or events (because most times they literally AREN'T because it's that drastic)

but then i think about how it's kind of annoying to me how much, even the sub people, misunderstand the complexities of the personality and disposition of people like Yusaku anyway even if we watched the same thing

like calling him angry or mean when he literally shows how much he cares about others and finding the truth for his own sake and theirs. he gets visibly upset when others are involved and hurt because of his path of revenge. he doesn't want to involve anyone. yes his patience is thin sometimes, but he's not mean at all?

how are you people just saying things like it's true... and then tagging it? why

so here i am wishing once again people did not call Yusaku an angry or uncaring person. he's traumatized and that trauma has caused him to be disconnected from the here and now. he's numb to daily events. he admitted himself that he tried to move on and forget about the incident, but that horrible experience was so deeply ingrained into his flesh and blood that he couldn't forget it. so, he didn't take care of himself and distanced from others. he didn't sleep well and had persistent nightmares about the electrocution, starvation, and loneliness

one of the few things he did have was waking up to the vocal reminder to find 3 reasons to keep on trying. that's just about all he had to think about and all that drove him before he decided to finally fight back and fight for justice for himself and others. to save the friend that saved him from despair. before that, he was just someone going through the motions of living, but not actually living.

though, even if he was manipulated into becoming Playmaker, he didn't place any blame on the circumstances and he still showed that he cares about the well-being of others. the change that occurs for him in relation (to well, his relationships) over 120 episodes is not night and day, but it doesn't need to be. i think it's a realistic example of taking baby steps in recovery (as well as taking steps backwards, too)... he has so many people he relies on and who rely on him and see friendship with him, thanks to that path.

he didn't want to be a hero, but he couldn't afford to lose. someone like him who has lost so much surely didn't deserve to have one of the most important individuals in his life ripped away. he regressed in his recovery by cutting contact with everyone over it to deal with the loss and keep searching by himself.

the story is a tragedy for him... but, equally it is a story about hope. you have to keep reaching out to connect even when you are tormented by loss. keep going and don't give up hope for the light of the future.

so, seeing people boil him down into someone who is just pissed off or doesn't care about others or has no patience for them when he isn't that kind of person at all just makes me feel mad (because i care way too much about this guy, lol)

by all means i know i'm not always 100% right about everything i feel, but sometimes it just feels like people don't get it at all and it's genuinely jarring to me to see people miss the point about him

#me being mad about irrelevant chara interpretation stuff #caroblogging

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growling · 2 months

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Your au reminds me of a pair of ocs I have. They're gonna teach Yomi how to properly arrest then eat people without getting caught/suspected of anything

Step number 1: fridge

sdfwadsfdjhfg Yomi's just gonna be forever clowned on for the carcass packed mancave incident isn't he… no one's never gonna let him live it down huh. "GUYS I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE IF I WAS BY ANY POINT NOTICED CARRYING SUSPICIOUSLY HUMAN-SHAPED BODY BAGS TO MY HOUSE AND A TEENAGER RECORDED IT AND UPLOADED IT TO TICTAC AND IT WENT VIRAL IT'D BE IN TROUBLE. NO I COULDN'T GET A PORTABLE FRIDGE TO THE DEN BECAUSE UH. THE SOCKET GOT BLOCKED BY SETH MEMORABILIA. SHUT UP!!! YOU DON'T KNOW SHIT YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IM GOING THROUGH DON'T TELL ME YOU CAN DO BETTER" he scream cries, but there is nothing he can do anymore to salvage his reputation. He will be forever known as the Dumbass That Single Handedly Managed To Give All The Other Homunculi A Bad Name (via slaying so many connected people & sticking to a single location, literally dooming himself to get caught within a month, he also significantly sped up the process of the general public finding out homunculi are a thing. while this would be inevitable anyway no matter how yomi went about his meal prep it's very easy and fun to just blame that one guy you didn't like anyway for the Horrors that are about to befall your collective species or whatever.)

But yeah. Yomi sure does happen in the unnamed growling brand au. Also, concerning how both the homunculi and their human originals are in many cases both somewhat important (sometimes equally so, like in the case of Yakou Times 2), I've been thinking of alt names/nicknames/aliases/you name it for the homunculi. To. Differentiate somehow. Since Yakou & Yakou are for a large chunk of the story doing their epic switcheroos and engaging in acts of trickery Yakou doesn't yet need a diff name to tell him apart from Yakou, so in my mind it's just Yakou Furio & Yakou Tworio. Hmc Martina 100% needs one, and I mean I could just go the easy way and slap her back with the good old Suwaro/Swallow, but I also hc that to be her deadname which uhh sjdfdgufh we'll figure it out guys. Aide/Fake Zilch doesn't even have an actual name anyway and his human og gets fucking digested within the first week, so is Seth, so I might not even bother.......... now Yomi, or, "Yomi" is an important character here so he needs it. While human Yomi is dead from the very very early on, he is also referenced, spoken and thought about a very significant amount through a very long period, like, clone Yomi is fucking OBSESSED with his original, and not in a sexy way. Sooooooo,

(this will probably not be worded as well as I originally hoped because I'm still not all there for the past couple of days jsut bear with me)

Hmc Yomi is actually the only character so far that I'm like, actually somewhat sure on an alias, but he didn't pick it out himself, and moreso was thrust upon him by the media/Amaterasu mostly also around when the killings were still ongoing and the culprit was completely unknown (but it was pretty much agreed on that it was almost certainly a member of the company) but after it was made clear by the WDO it was most likely an escaped homunculus. Like, you get how those serial killers get these way too cool nicknames on the newspaper? Practically what happened to him, except his is slightly less dignified or straightforward it's just There

Still a subject to change but I've been thinking of making him (un)officially dubbed as Heartworm (a dangerous parasite species primarily affecting canids and other carnivores, residing in their lungs or, well, heart, causing serious damage to the tissues, arteries, potentially heart failure, and whatever the hell else.) for a long while. I.e. the public & Amaterasu essentially calling him a deadly parasite lodged in the corporation's heart that needs to be dealt with as fast as possible before he destroys it from the inside out. He fucking hates it ksdjfhgdsiwesdf but doesn't say anything for obvious reasons just stares motherfuckerly at everyone at the peacekeeper meeting when they're discussing this. Also getting nicknamed after a literal animal is fitting for him because all the homunculi are getting dehumanized to hell and back anyway he's not special in that regard you cannot pay an Amaterasu researcher enough to cease the it/its

I was initially hesistant on settling for this one though because heartworms notably aren't really as much of a concern for humans as they are for their natural hosts, that is dogs (and also cats, bears, ferrets, sea lions but more commonly dogs and other canids you know like they're the main host you get me). But then it came to me that the overwhelming majority of "Yomi's" victims were fellow peacekeepers, and it just so happens that in my language we derogatorily call cops "dogs" and... yeah so it just wrote itself lol lmao even woof woof bark bark. hmc Yomi voice I HATE humans they make me use a fridge and shout go Heartworm go

was tyat anything . also WALL OF TEXT BLAST HE LOREDUMPED AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!

#curious what ocs ur talking abt i only know like Sasha i think..#mine #ask #au name is still pending i will think of something jiduhfddsfuiuujx #hello other rain code followers here unaware of my ''GIANT ENEMY WORM CANNIBAL everyone else is also there ig'' au. don't worry about it :)#the I did not proofread this tag fufk it we ba ll *keels over and disintegrates undertale style*

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loveforskekshod · 3 months

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Greasy had always known that life as a weasel would not be easy. Growing up in the streets of Puerto Rico, he had to learn how to fend for himself at a young age. But despite all the hardships, he never lost his kind heart and optimistic spirit.

As he grew older, Greasy discovered that he was not like the other weasels. He felt more comfortable in his own skin when he dressed and acted like a male, despite being assigned female at birth. He identified as transgender and embraced his true identity as a transmasc Puerto Rican weasel.

But in a society that valued traditional gender roles, Greasy faced discrimination and prejudice from both humans and his own kind. He was constantly on guard, always ready to defend himself and his identity.

One day, he met Judge Doom, a powerful and influential figure in the city. Despite their differences, they fell deeply in love and were determined to make their relationship work.

But their happiness was short-lived when Teddy Valiant, a private detective, and his brother Eddie, a former detective, became involved in their lives. The Valiant brothers despised weasels, believing them to be bloodthirsty creatures that were capable of anything.

They saw Greasy and Judge Doom's relationship as a threat and were determined to put an end to it. In a cruel and calculated move, they kidnapped Greasy and held him captive, hoping to use him as leverage against Judge Doom.

But their plan took a tragic turn when they discovered that Greasy was pregnant with their first litter of weasel babies. The Valiant brothers' hatred towards weasels drove them to do the unthinkable – they cut the kits out of Greasy's womb and dissolved them in toxic dip, all while Greasy watched in horror and agony.

Greasy's heart shattered as he realized that he would never get to hold his precious babies in his arms. The pain was unbearable, and he felt like he had lost a part of himself.

But the worst was yet to come.

Judge Doom, who was devastated by the loss of his family, sought revenge on the Valiant brothers. In a fit of rage, he killed Teddy Valiant, and the incident was labeled as a tragic accident.

Greasy was consumed by guilt and grief. He blamed himself for not being able to protect his family and for bringing them into a world filled with hate and violence.

Judge Doom, now consumed by his thirst for revenge, became a ruthless and feared figure in the city. He and Greasy drifted apart, unable to cope with their loss and the trauma of what had happened.

Greasy was left to pick up the pieces of his shattered life. He was haunted by the memories of his family and the pain of their loss. But he refused to let their tragic story define him.

He found solace and support in the LGBTQ+ community, who welcomed him with open arms and showed him that love knows no boundaries. He became an advocate for transgender rights and used his platform to spread awareness and acceptance.

Greasy's tragic backstory had shaped him into a strong and resilient weasel, determined to use his pain for good. He may have lost his family, but he gained a new one – a community that accepted and loved him for who he truly was.

And though the scars of his past would always remain, Greasy knew that he was not alone and that his story would inspire others to fight for acceptance and equality.

#ai generated #tmpreg #who framed roger rabbit #toon patrol #toon patrol weasels #judge doom #fanfic #mpreg

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empty-masks · 1 year

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Book Five, Chapter Five (Epilogue)

CW: Strong Language, Sexual References, Graphic Violence, Fantasy Bigotry, Smoking, Alcohol Use, Light Body Horror

Returning to Black Hill both a conquering hero and a failure of a hunter, Piper collected on Blondie’s bounty by tossing his severed head, which had long since cooled down to the appearance of a grisly, fur-covered amber statue, onto the desk of Penelope Hickory. Her achievement in taking out such a large liability earned her an audience with the board members, and subsequently a sizable raise. And though in that moment she was tempted to try and spark an all out war against the ten escapees, she simply couldn’t bring herself to admit to her superiors that the bounty was still technically active. Instead, through gritted teeth, she told a little white lie to save face— their quarry had fallen down into the old Gutter’s Glade Mine crevasse after they had fled into it. And, as it turns out, the way down had completely sunken in, rendering the bodies completely irretrievable. Unless they were to send a search and retrieve operation up into the equivalent of enemy territory, there was no chance in hell to bring those damned miners to corporate justice. And sure, this sentiment brings upon some disappointed sighs and annoyed grunts from her superiors, it’s nothing the money she makes didn’t almost immediately dampen. By that point, she earned equal to the amount of Blondie’s salary, which is enough to keep her and Janet afloat so long as she’s on the grind. So, in a way, she walked out of that board room with a little extra wisdom. Battles you can’t win now were battles you might as well not fight, especially if you could wrangle up some cash in the process.

Piper spends the rest of her days continuing Blondie’s deadly legacy. She worked directly for the board members of Shepherd Gemstone as their right hand (with her squad of mercenaries being their left, no matter how much she despised it), lived happily with Janet and her children, and generally speaking, made the most of her corporately-funded adventures. Even if it means becoming more familiar with death than she ever had been before.

Harry Gilroy, in a similar vein, moved up on the Shepherd Gemstone ladder for a period of time post-success of Blondie’s post-mortem execution, managing the operations of multiple mining outposts across a few square miles— Smokestone, of course, included. Thanks to a couple smart foreman hires and the corporate suppression of any and all magical incidents in his jurisdictions (his paper shredder was consistently the fullest “section” of his office), he kept profits high enough for long enough for his superiors to take notice. He even was held in higher esteem than Hickory at the peak of his internal glory, something he absolutely dragged her through the mud over. Eventually, however, Gilroy’s head becomes a bit too big for his shoulders. He’s fired directly from the Board after news of an unprecedented number of magical afflictions, alongside a sizable number of employee uprisings in his jurisdictions, breaks to the overhead. In a drunken stupor, he blames everyone but himself, storms out of the Shepherd Gemstone HQ and pisses on their front lawn, where he is then arrested for public indecency. He becomes a washed up, former high-roller in his neighborhood, rumoured to have taxidermied Blondie’s head and hung it up above a fireplace somewhere private. He spends his hoard of blood money on expensive booze, golfing trips, and renovating his home in an attempt to gather the attention of the single women in his community. Thus, he is cast out from the one thing he knows, rich and bitter.

Though Honeysett is idyllic as it is, everyones’ plans eventually send them out of the small town, with Pickman’s Hope being far and wide the most popular ending destination.

Azariah and Roxanne leave first, planning to aid with any reconstruction that needs doing (though there wouldn’t be much by the time they get there, seeing as how the town is known for its building expertise). They instead get involved with Samson’s doings around town, organizing the unions for work and acting as the occasional carrier of goodwill to neighboring towns. It ends up being a challenging occupation, especially since they have to compete diplomatically with corporations looking to take jobs from them and their people, but Azariah’s wit usually helps bring home the bacon, and Roxanne’s organizational skills helps make sure they can eat it, too. Pickman’s Hope sees a steady increase in cash flow, and it’s not long before the couple have their own home built, courtesy of the town, with their own garden and everything.

When they’re not working, they spend their time together indulging in the few, but substantial pleasures around the town; and, as everyone else trickles in, with them as well, acting as the guides they always have whenever something goes wrong. It’s not uncommon to find them filling the same role that Samson does, being everyone’s uncle or aunt and helping them paint fences, weed gardens, or settle minor disputes in bars. And though Azariah initially was tested by some of the rowdier locals about his capabilities (everyone knows Samson’s got it in him to stop scuffles, but this new Hare? and at his age?), but folks quickly realized that there’s to be no funny business with him around. What’s more, the rumour began floating around that Azariah liked the fighting— there was something about his eyes during the days when drunks would challenge him that burned those events into the memories of the sober. And, of course, if Roxanne was around in the case of these events, she was wicked accurate with her cane when she had it (and if she didn’t, you’d best believe she was going to pick up anything around and bludgeon your sorry ass with it), able to knock the buzz out of the most uppity of union workers.

Judith and Leon are next to leave, having decided that the best thing for them to do is just jump into a new life, leaving the adventuring business they’d been drafted into completely behind them. That means pursuing new business, the kind that would be calm, peaceful, and hopefully complimentary toward the skills that they’ve been building up. After a day or two of thinking while on the road, they decide to open a flower shop.

Judith runs the economic end of the store, taking back the person she once was from the grips of an angry, bitter, corporate version of herself, by indulging in the simple, sweet pleasures of accounting. And it doesn’t take long for her to take to the front desk as well, committing to memory prices and tax ratios, and developing pricing strategies for larger orders such as weddings, feasts, or public events. Every flower, down to the petal, she teaches herself how to price. As the days go by, she feels herself softening more naturally in the presence of customers. Sure, she has a very low tolerance for bullshit, and she’s none too happy when folks take a long time at the counter thanks to their own incompetence, but she absorbs that annoyance with ease, instead of letting it stew in her system. It’s amazing what not letting grudges overwhelm your emotional system can do for your mental well-being! At some point, she considers writing a book about her physical and emotional experiences having escaped from an exploitative mining company, but in a way, she figures that she should wait until she’s not busy with numbers before trying to work some words.

Leon ends up the gardener, and though he’s only blessed with a literally green thumb and not a metaphorical one, a little help from the locals helps him to blossom into quite the flower expert. Arranging, however, is where he ends up finding out his talent is. His touch with colours is subtle, yet when the final piece has been completed, results in patterns that seem to shine the same way a polished gemstone would. It doesn’t take long for him to experiment with complex fragrance combinations as well, though, it doesn’t take off the way that he’d hoped. Instead, he finds himself satisfied with the scent of a particular flower, known as the Cinnamon Cup Rose, as it lets him laugh without coughing up a lung.

Olive and Cherry move down simultaneously, and for a short period of time end up living together in a single-level on the outskirts of town. It doesn’t last long however, as Olive gets tired of the noise from his mechanical work at all hours of the day and moves closer into the town square, where she instead gets to listen to the sounds of the sidewalks.

Olive’s reasoning for leaving what is ostensibly a fangirl’s fantasy villa was that she felt as though the power she was given by the Mountain Thing wouldn’t quite get used to its fullest potential if all she did was sit around Honeysett, which was filled to the brim with folks who could more than handle themselves. The burning inside pushed her toward humanitarian work, and so, she decided to learn the art of field medic-work from Roxanne. She slowly worked her way through the skills presented to her, at first getting stuck on the hurdle of being covered with blood (as that sort of thing is terrible to get out of feathers), but working through anxiety after anxiety throughout the years. Roxanne wasn’t the easiest teacher to work with but she’s definitely a thorough one, and with the incredible diversity of Pickman’s Hope and beyond, there’s a lot for Olive to learn, all while keeping track of her own condition as best she could— with the occasional check-up on her old pals.

By the time she’s learned everything that Roxanne has to teach her, she’s already been working at the local emergency response team, and has more than a few encounters under her belt where her power, and her medical knowledge, has come in handy. There were more than a few times where she saved a life by means of skilled hands and focused eyes, be it removing a bullet or deflecting one, and in time she became well-known enough among such circles to be offered permanent positions in adventuring companies and collectives, parties of many sizes and skills asking if she’d become their in-house medic. The answer she gave them, of course, was a “no,” though she was more than happy to patch them up if she was nearby, and was more than eager to pass her knowledge onto others in the field.

Cherry, on the other hand, realized that it probably wouldn’t be good for him to stick around his dads’ place for much longer. Though they love him dearly, they don’t love the amount of noise that his work and main hobby brings, so he picks up a job at the local mechanics’ Union in Pickman’s Hope and gets his hands dirty. It doesn’t take long for him to be promoted from a shelf-stocker to someone who actually works on vehicles, and his propensity for understanding models that nobody else had seen before turns him into the “I don’t know, ask him” guy for anyone in the know about cars, a label he happily upholds. With the blessing of Samson, Cherry also gets to work on establishing a racing club there in town, working to create a new breed of backwood valley-folk racers that can compete with even the biggest sponsors further out west. It’s another feather in the town’s cap; it’s a new and fresh way for folks to compete among themselves, all while attracting eyes. Aside from that, it means yearly events, and that’s just plain good for local morale.

Brie, of course, leaves last, having to hitch a ride to Pickman’s Hope to pick up her car, to then drive back north of Honeysett to meet up with her girlfriend. After months of being gone and with hardly any money left to her name, she treats her to a fancy dinner to drop the news about how the quarry with Shepherd Gemstone fell through, that she’s realized things about the line of work she’s in that she doesn’t like, and that she’s nearly been killed multiple times over the time she’s been gone (and that she’d like to not repeat this experience ever again). And so, after much talk over a couple glasses of brandy, a sizeable bill for the pork chops they ordered, and a few days to mull everything over, they decide to move down to Pickman’s Hope, where Brie not only knows people, but also where she could get a job doing something less actively perilous. And a job she did get after a brief talk with Samson— she now works as a local detective slash investigator, helping to suss out corporate interests and potential moles from Shepherd from the town, as the discovery of Hieronymus T. Thistle’s treachery was something of a wake up call for the union head. Though it’s not entirely out of the line of fire, it puts her in a spot where she feels truly confident that the work she’s doing is for the greater good. And, of course, the constant reassurance from her peers helps quite a bit.

Jules, Lucille, and Meat all realize that there’s something binding the three of them together, and that thing is their lack of ability to settle down in the place they’ve come to be so fond of. Pickman’s Hope is a no-go for them, because as much as they’d like to go domestic, Jules and Meat are both being hunted by the Carnevale, and Lucille figures that someone like her would be better off sorting out her issues on the road, rather than cooped up in a house somewhere. So, they buy a car from Pickman’s Hope, say goodbye to everyone (with many tears being shed on behalf of Meat having to leave so soon from Brie and Roxanne), and they set out west for new horizons.

And though they’re not the newest of horizons, they certainly did find a new-er climate to work in. The three of them, collectively, set out as another independent contractor group, doing odd jobs here and there and taking advantage of Meat’s Notus powers to get them done quickly and efficiently. Their plans are to make as much money as they can so that way they can retire early and maybe set something similar to Honeysett up (or find someplace like it that already exists, build a place in the neighborhood, and live the good life). The process of getting there however, has only just begun.

It’s getting into the evening hours, and the first flakes of winter are beginning to collect on the lawn of Piper’s residence. Tanner is crowing about how much snow he thinks they’re going to get, Madrone has dug her nose into a book to avoid the walking annoyance that is her kid brother, and Janet has found a cozy spot right up against Piper on the sofa, their fireplace crackling softly.

After taking a sip of her tea, Janet stands up from her spot, walks around the couch, picks up a wrapped box, and places it on Piper’s lap. “Go on. Open it,” she coos.

“Aw, honey. You shouldn’t have.” Piper replies, ripping into the paper.

It’s a box. A box from the Quilting Club with her name on it, to be precise. And whatever’s in the box is heavy, heavier than the heaviest dumbbell Janet works out with for her calisthenics, anyways.

And when she opens it, it’s as though she’s cracking open a treasure chest of sparkling gold doubloons. It’s a replica of Blondie’s old pistol, the hand cannon that turns peoples’ heads into leaky cans of soup. In the glow of her awe, she nearly forgets to shoo away the kids, who are crowding around the “cool gun that Piper got” (as her children are still getting acclimated to calling her “mom”). Its weight, its design, its finish, all of it is pristine and new and exactly how she remembers it. And now it's hers. The final piece is hers.

“My god. You really shouldn’t have.”

Blondie & The Smokestone March End.

==============================================================

[ Table of Contents ]

Thank you for reading, and have a good night!

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nobrakes · 2 years

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Hii! I have a question; why are Nico R and Lewis H fighting? Their beef is so funny to me as a person that is a casual f1 fan

uhhh, how to begin explaining?

i'll give you a quick and very incomplete rundown, but first, it must be said that currently, things aren't much of a two-sided "fight" per se but more of "Nico being desperate to be noticed by Lewis who is just living his life, has moved on and doesn't care" or as we call it affectionately "Nico Go To Therapy Challenge"

Obviously, there's the whole "best friends since childhood, Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg were inseparable on both hotel rooms and karting tracks. Rosberg is the only one to ever beat Hamilton in equal machinery for the F1 championship".

They were friends, despite all circumstances and differences, from their backgrounds, families, finances, etc etc. Lewis always brilliant carrying the weight of the world and the dream of F1, Nico also brilliant and looking to prove himself and live up to his dad's legacy.

When eventually they both joined F1, Nico in Williams (2006) and Lewis with McLaren (2007), they were still pretty good friends.

Lewis went on to have one of the most insane first seasons ever seen in F1, almost becoming champion right out of gate.

Nico also found success, getting podiums in 2008 and on their first double podium, this very famous scene of them jumping and hugging happened.

Nico moved to Merc in 2010.

Eventually after the sick and twisted move from Lewis that all the F1 """reporters""" said was a career ender, Lewis went to Mercedes, joining as Nico's teammate.

And as history tells us, as their success on-track became more and more evident, their relationship went down the drain.

With Merc's turbo-hybrid era dominance, the competition for the tittle was basically a inner team affair and that created a perfect storm for the destruction of a friendship between two very competitive people.

Their friendship officially ended publicly in 2014, after the infamous incident when Nico parked the car at the end of qualifying to be on pole position on Monaco, robbing Lewis of the chance of a slam dunk win on Sunday (he denied at the time doing this on purpose, but since then has indicated he wasn't so innocent after all) (chaotic evil) and Lewis said on an interview "We're Not Friends" (oof).

There were soooo many incidents between them since then, it's impossible for me to list all of them. Some of the ones that to me are more memorable are:

2014 SPA incident, on which Niki Lauda himself was furious at what happened;

Hungary 2014, Lewis - ICONICALY may I say - refuses to move aside to let Nico through "I'm not slowing down for Nico."

USA 2015, Lewis clinches the championship early at COTA and then proceeds to throw the P2 cap at Nico who throws it back at him

2016 Spanish GP, when they had a double DNF going into turn 1

2016 Austrian GP, they clashed on the last lap

2016 Abu Dhabi when Lewis, who was leading the race started backing up the cars in hopes of other ppl overtaking Nico and helping him win the championship, which didn't work cause Nico ended up finally winning. Lewis post-race saying: "What am I supposed to do? Just sit there and let the dude come and win the championship? [...] I had to try and help myself because no one else was going to."

Anyways, all of these were very controversial and divided Merc fans. Still, to this day there are differing opinions on each incident, who was to blame, etc etc. The main thing is that it became a VERY toxic environment between them, Nico was king of trying mind games and saying batshit insane things to the media, while also playing into r*cist microaggressions at times. Lewis was very much focused and wanted to win at all costs as well, he did shitty things too, low-key floated the conspiracy theory that his car was the only Merc engine that kept breaking (Malasya 2016 how u doing).

IMO both of them were insane and shitty at different moments, and it's a more complex situation than who's right/who's wrong, good/bad, also I AM biased towards Lewis. I love him.

lmao I'm honestly not qualified to give a full timeline of every incident as I wasn't watching f1 then (i was free from this madness, I miss being free).

However, when it comes to the current state of their relationship, Nico since his 2016 championship win and sudden retirement from F1 (that way Lewis couldn't beat him again) has tried and tried on the media to sing Lewis' praises? and he thinks that way he might recapture some sort of friendship with him?

In fact, at what would be their LAST press conference as teammates in Abu Dabhi, Lewis started reminiscing about their relationship and Nico was LEGIT nearly crying????

They are, apparently, according to gossip girl (Max), still till this day: neighbors.

But Nico has said on the media that Lewis doesn't have his number anymore after being asked if Lewis was going to call him to congratulate his Extreme E team on winning the Extreme E championship over Lewis' own team.

Last year Lewis ducked away from Nico, as Nico was presenting on SkySports before a race leaving Nico to be like "here comes Hamilton and here goes Hamilton".

OKay now a list of things that i think are funny but I don't have time to explain:

Crofty's commentary during the 2021 Hungarian GP "“this man knows lewis hamilton friend, teammate, childhood buddy, rival, everything bar lover quite frankly” and most importantly Nico's absolute dead silence afterward.

The Time Nico Used a Sponsor Event As A Therapy Session And Talked About Him And Lewis

Awkwardly Meeting

This Old Picture Of Them

Yacht Gate. Yeah.

This Meme

This Gifset

Again, this is NOT a complete timeline of events.

Anyways hope this helped even though I think it maybe didn't.

Nico if you're reading this, please...go to therapy...we support you...it's time to let go.

Lewis if you're reading this #godbless #amen

Edit: sorry I got some things wrong at first, such as the timeline of Nico going 2 Merc/forgot completely that he had been at Williams first

#answered #springwolves

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rmorde · 7 months

Text

For me, the biggest takeaway from #236 is that Gojo is, once again, proven to not be an arrogant character at all. This chapter is the definitive proof.

SPOILERS. DO NOT READ.

He has no problems acknowledging and even praising Sukuna's strength. Gojo does not have an inflated ego to be enraged about the loss.

He also has a crippling habit of self depreciation. It rarely happens but a pattern can be observed.

Riko died. = He didn't blame Geto. Gojo blames himself.

Geto left. = He believes that it is his fault for not noticing there was a problem which is kinda unfair tho? Suguru didn't exactly communicate his struggles honestly. Jujutsu society is hella toxic too.

Yuji died = He indirectly blamed himself for it - that his intervention made the higher-ups get back at him through Yuji

Shibuya Incident and its aftermath = He didn't blame anyone but himself.

Sukuna beats him. = He blames, once again, himself.

Gojo is incredibly aware when he fucks up and has no problems owning it (maybe even too much). He often assigns himself to be at fault when things go wrong. That is the antithesis of arrogance.

So, unlike a certain group of stans think, #236 didn't humble an "arrogant" Gojo. He IS already humble. It's just so happens that him being The Strongest and basically the pillar of jujutsu society were not exaggerated truths. Whenever he explains his power and status, it's not arrogance. It's just a simple statement of facts. His revelry when using his powers does look disrespectful tho. Can't deny that.

Gojo also has no problems sharing the title of "Strongest" with Suguru. He acknowledges Toji's power. He even declares Mei and Nanami as strong. Gojo is absolutely excited about his students surpassing him. All of these examples show how free Gojo is with his praises on anyone that he believes to be his equal or more without resentment. That is not something an arrogant person would do.

Another thing: #236 didn't have Gojo "glazing" or "dick riding" Sukuna. It's just an unfortunate perfect storm of:

Gojo being very casual with his compliments. His declaration of "Sukuna is stronger than me" is no different from his claims that Hakari, Yuta, and Yuji can surpass him.

Gojo is self-depreciating again. He downplayed his own feats and emphasized his shortcomings.

Sports-level antagonism between stans spilling everywhere.

Now... can Gojo be revived? There is some hope with the lotus flower and the north/south stuff but I'm not holding my breath. I'll just wait and see what else Gege is cooking first.

#jujutsu kaisen spoilers #jjk spoilers #there's not really much for me to be mad about this chapter?#it's just an absolute shocker #there are some interesting stuff here tho like gojo's empathy and sympathy for sukuna #plus sukuna's declaration to 'never forget gojo for as long as he lives' - that's quite a promise #and the airport afterlife (?) part is fascinating too #i'll check some past chapters first tho to put my thoughts in order about them

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ballorawan740 · 3 years

Text

SCP Scenarios: When they accidentally kill you

Requested by: okokok121 + @RitaRoseFromBBB

(Ok, I know you did ask for the doctors + Mikell and Strelnikov, but I've decided to add the SCPs in here if that's alright with you. And also, sorry if I didn't capture Strelnikov's attitude well as I'm not as familiar with him compared to Mikell, yet again I'm not familiar with Jack Bright's family other than TJ and 321)

Sorry if it wasn't up to your standards. I just felt that some of these characters weren't the type to kill the reader, even if it wasn't intentional.

WARNING: Slight Angst

Dr Simon Glass

Simon wouldn't be the one to accidentally kill you himself, but it's more of the situation he put you in without realising the full extent of the consequences. He was just busy writing his patients' reports, and you just strolled in his office to check upon him. Simon stopped what he was doing and smiled with you as you both ate your food in his ever so clean office. As you were about to leave, Glass requested you to deliver something to Jack Bright in which you did. You and Jack were close friends (not so surprising since you're both equally as mad as each other) so if Simon wanted to know where he is or if he needed to give him something, he would go to you first. You managed to deliver the parcel to Bright in 682's containment cell and you both laughed before you returned. Unfortunately, 682 was having a rough day due to being a subject to Bright's test (I would be too tbh) which caused him to become more aggressive than usual and attacked 3 researchers. One of them being you as 682 dragged you down to the acid bath with him and Jack rushed to save you. Bright wasn't able to and he had to fulfil;l his duty to tell Simon Glass that you passed as 682 had killed you during a test. Needless to say, Glass was forced to take time off with Bright due to this event and he became more distant for months to come. Bright had to keep it together just so Simon wouldn't have to lose the shred of sanity he had in him.

Dr Jack Bright

You and Bright were doing some tests on one of the more dangerous SCPs (no, it's not that giant mf lizard of that warrior killing machine) in which your job was to handle these creatures while Jack was doing all the lab stuff. The SCP you both were conducting your research on was ●●|●●●●●|●●|● (SCP 2521 - We're getting ripped tonight, RIP my friends) and you were doing all sorts of things which resulted in you summoning this creature out of the blue by accident. Bright had to drag you out away from the creature and you just stood there observing its behaviour until it noticed you. Jack Bright had to take you on the run yet again (cuz you do be stoopid and stubborn so all yall wanna do is stare at something that's gonna kill ya. JUST RUN BIATCH!!!) but the SCP managed to catch up with you both and snatched you before Bright could even get help. Jack was astonished and deeply depressed since the incident and was left increasingly agitated after every walking day and even Glass couldn't get him out of his shell. He would pretend that everything's fine, but deep down, everyone knows that he's not (that's a whole ass mood right there buddy). Bright was extremely guilty for making you research 2521 and tried to summon it again, but all other scientists stopped it.

Dr Alto Clef

Clef was just doing his job, managing all the Keter class SCPs with ease and without hesitation. You know this from first-hand experience on your very first day on the job 3 years ago and Clef took an interest in you so he took you under his wing. So on this mission, he's on, he wanted to take you with him so you went along (not like you'd say no to this madman anyways right?). It was a breach on one of the sites with a sh- ton of Keter class SCPs and your jobs were to exterminate/neutralise them and save all the other researchers in which your team did do well and were still alive. You on the other hand were killed in action by SCP 939 (NOW WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS RELEASED MY PETS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?!). Clef wasn't able to save you on time, but he managed to kill 2 of those SCPs. When he got back, he hid in his office and was depressed for 23.3 weeks and when he managed to drag himself out, he was bawling his eyes out. He deeply regretted taking you on a mission with him and swore an oath that if he were to ever take another person under his wing (probs in like 50 years), he would do anything in his power to not take them on a life-threatening mission.

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

You were out with Kondraki, just laying on the grass like you normally do as you just watched Kondraki take photographs of various and random stuff. Not long later, you asked him if he could teach you how to become such an avid photographer like him, so he did. However, little did you and Kondraki know that his butterfly friends felt danger lurking around the area you were in and quickly transformed into a threatening SCP to defend you both. Lurking around the woods were uncontained 939s running loose on the ground in which the booterflies attacked it. One of the red lizards was ready to pounce onto Kondraki to which you ran and pushed him out of the way (BAD DOGGO ))),:<). Luckily he was unharmed, but you, on the other hand, was heavily injured so Kondraki rushed you back to the foundation's medic. You died there shortly after and Kondraki blamed himself for getting you hurt on a harmless visit to the woods for some photographs. Bright and Clef begged Glass to do some psychological evaluation on Kondraki despite him telling them that he needs some time alone before he could do such things.

O5 Council Mikell Bright

When you're with Mikell, he would be his true self, being honest and relaxed since you're his most trusted partner. Moreover, he would tell you everything about what the O5 Council has been doing and their top secrets and you would always keep your lips sealed. The other members are wary of this at first but soon warm up to you since you're one of the most trusted individuals. Being with the cowboy is quite entertaining and you'll be quite protected being with him, so most of the time, you get free reign over the foundation, however, you still had to obey the rules as you weren't exactly a member of the O5 council and that would also help you from making people think you're sus for being treated so differently. That day was one of the days where your freedom got the better of you as you were on a mission with Mikell and he was about to aim at the target until you pushed him out of the way from danger. He quickly gained his composure and tried to shoot the anomaly behind you which he missed and shot you instead. Mikell was in shock and tried to get the medics, but by the time they arrived, you've already passed. Jack had to check up on his brother regularly to see how he's doing and to make sure he doesn't fall off the edge, reminding him that you wouldn't want to see him this way.

Agent Dmitri Arkadeyevich Strelnikov

As an agent, Strelnikov's life and his closest friends and relatives would be on the line. He wouldn't know when, where or how he would die and is in constant fear of losing everyone around him, especially you. One time, he took you on a mission with him since you were trained under him and he felt that you were ready to go onto your first-ever mission (well too bad, it's your last mission since y'all just suck at your jobs and this poor man has to drag you up from hell and y'all just fall back in) and so you guys went and attempted to gain information and track down some SCPs. Dmitri had to save you a few times since you didn't heed his advice and looked behind your back and that one time he left you on your own, you were murdered by a ruthless group from one of the GOIs. This, of course, deeply saddened agent Strelnikov as he was washed away by the guilt he had from leaving you to stand by your own 2 feet. You were a bright and gentle person who always looked up to him, always eager to learn and never want to fail him. These traits are what drew you to him and he was hoping to have you on his team permanently, however, that dream was long gone (just like your non-existent brain cells trying to keep your life together so y'all don't do stupid things) as you were snatched away from him in an instant. He wrote the report once he went back to the foundation and locked himself up for so long the doctors had to get him out (like your guardians whenever you don't wake up in the mornings).

Extras:

SCP 073 (Cain)

You and Cain were strolling around site 17 until a containment breach happened. Cain had to drag you by your arm since you froze (like a deer in headlights XD) and didn't react to anything since you were afraid. Luckily you did manage to get your senses back together and ran with him. Not long later, a Keter class SCP came charging at you and in a panic, Cain pushed you aside without a glance which caused another SCP to kill you since you were blocking the way. He looked over to you to see that you were wounded, lifted you up, and found a medic. Cain blamed himself for not looking carefully and had he done that, you wouldn't be dying. By the time the medic and you both arrived, you were already at the brink of death and when 343 finally arrived, you were long gone. 343 had to calm 073 down from trying to seek revenge once again but he can't due to the overwhelming guilt he had on him. 343 managed to ease his mind a bit which caused him to blackout. The researchers had to put him under their watchlist to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid (like you when you're studying for your important exams).

SCP 076 (Abel)

It was a normal day for you and Abel to hang around until this one mf guard angered Abel to which caused a containment breach. He went on a rampage (you do be here like Hercules! Hercules! XD) in which you had to try and calm him down. By the time you went to the main part of the facility, you saw many of the D-classes and researchers beheaded (like the previous queens in- never mind). When you had found Abel attempting to slaughter a guy, you jumped in front of the victim and by the time Abel realised that you were there, his sword cut you open in half (KO! 10 points to Gryffindor). He was overwhelmed with guilt and anxiety about him killing you by accident and returned to his box as demanded by the MTF members. The scientists noticed a change in Abel's behaviour and never questioned it. Those who knew what had happened never mentioned it in fear of another breach and left him be.

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

It was an ideal Saturday night at the foundation. You and our adorable 999 was wandering around the facility minding your own business until some madman came charging into the foundation. The alarm for the breach went on and everyone was confused since there weren't any dangerous SCPs on the loose. As it turns out, it was an intruder from one of the other GOIs trying to kidnap some of the SCPs. You and 999 just so happened to be in the exact same spot as the intruder and was holding a weapon of some sort. Realising what's happening, 999 pushed you out of the way just as the intruder fired her weapon which missed you both. One of the agents caught up with both of you and tried to shoot the intruder but ended up shooting you just as you got up which killed you. 999 never greeted any visitors in his cell ever again for quite some time and the researchers attempted to bribe him but failed.

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

You were requested to take part in a test with 682 and another Keter class SCP in a test room and your job was to make sure 682 weren't allowed to lash out at the researchers because of this test. However, this certain Keter class SCP has decided that it wants to attack you in which 682 shoved you aside to protect you. The researchers ran in to save you but the other SCP managed to pounce on you and suffocated you to the brink of death. 682 was about to take a chonki bite out of that SCP but instead, he bit you instead, killing you instantly. He regretted every decision he has ever made and never attacked the foundation staff for months.

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

This doctor was just minding his own business until some dumbass researchers rushed into his room like some fanboys trying to get their noona's signatures. 049 was entertained by this remark but was soon agitated as they disturbed his work and wouldn't leave him alone. So, 049 used his lethal touch on some of the researchers as the rest ran. Luckily, they ran into you, so you managed to calm down the angri bird doctor. Unfortunately, that didn't go as planned as he had mistaken you as one of the other fanboys and stabbed you right into your heart. As soon as he had realised what he's done, he rushed you into his cell and performed surgery on you. Mid-surgery, he soon realised that you were losing too much blood and died right then and there. He mourned for quite some time as the other researchers were severely punished as it had led to your death which could've been avoided.

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Like the other SCPs mentioned in the list, there was a test that resulted in your death. 035 was instructed to change to another human as the black goo was secreted from the mask and so he obeyed as you were slouching by the corner of the test room. Except for this time, it is being worn by a taller and more muscular man who was a wanted man due to his former job as a mercenary. As the researchers watched intently, the mask soon felt slightly overpowered but was resolved quickly due to his evergrowing abilities and experience in possessing those who come near it or is wearing the mask. The mask spoke of the discomfort of being overpowered to which the researchers took note of this statement and watched. You were somewhat concerned to you went closer to your beloved partner to check up on him. However, upon coming closer to 035, he switched his usual persona to the man wearing it, becoming more aggressive and unable to control this body, killing the first person he sees, which was you. This stunned the researchers as the guards tried to pry him off you. When they managed to get him off, you were no longer breathing. In the next interview with 035, he displayed extreme guilt and sadness of his inability to possess the man well enough to control him fully and made a request for him to be left alone for a while.

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

You both met up during the breach a few steps away from 096's cell. He was wandering around to find you while covering his elongated face. All the other researchers were outside trying their best to stay calm and deal with this massive breach until they just saw 096 walking about looking for someone. It instantly clicked in their mind and offered to look for you as long as he goes back to his cell afterwards to which he agreed. Upon finding you, another SCP was attempting to attack you but was soon neutralised by the other MTFs. 096 managed to push you away beforehand but his throw was so strong that you died on the impact when you fell to the ground (you really did get yeeted lmao). As 096 and the others ran towards you to make sure you were ok, you had stopped breathing and 096 screamed in sadness which flooded the whole field. As he was contained back to his cell, they noticed a small detail about 096 which was him wailing every now and again about your death.

SCP 105 (Iris)

You and Iris were just strolling down site 17 to meet with Cain and Dr James Dantensen. Once you've arrived at the agreed location within site 17, you guys were just catching up with old times and sharing your memories and stories about your everyday lives. However, this jolly moment only lasted for so long as someone had breached the containment to target you as you were close to a lot of the SCPs, especially the humanoid ones. As you, along with the others, ran to safety, the enemy caught up with you and threatened you for your knowledge of the SCPs. Iris finally caught up with you just in time to see the commotion and shoved you out of the way. Cain managed to shield you from another guy who attempted to shoot you in which Iris retaliates by throwing a knife back, but instead, injured you instead. She ran over and screamed as you slowly blacked out. Cain had to carry you over as Dantensen was calling the medics and you barely managed to survive. During your days in the hospital, the suspect managed to suffocate you which alarmed everyone. During the days that followed, Iris had been seeking out revenge as Cain tried to make her stay calm and think more rationally.

SCP 106 (Old Man)

It was another day spending some time in 106's pocket dimension as you relaxed with him. You both talked about your past experiences and the obstacles you both had overcome. Once you both were done relaxing (aka never you lazy catto so get up and do something useful for once cuz I don't wanna see yall get screamed at by your family and non-existent friends (jk jk i hope they're treating you well)), 106 took you back to his containment cell and just sat there as the researchers looked at you both blankly. 096 caused a containment breach which, of course, freed you both from 106's cell and you made a run for it (RUN FOREST RUN!). As you and 096 came into contact, 106 tried to put himself between the both of you, knowing what 096 was capable of. Unfortunately, this resulted in 106 being attacked and you died from looking at his face (wear a damn mask 096, you're in the middle of a pandemic). Saddened by the news, 106 seek revenge but was briefly neutralised and shipped to another facility so it wouldn't cause another breach due to his rage.

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ladybugout-au · 3 years

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Dear. GOD. After seeing Furious Fu, I would honestly love to see LBO!Marinette just chewing out Su-Han for all his canon-to-fic BULLSHIT. Like, I know you’ve already got a plan to incorporate Feast into LBO, which I’m super excited for, so this asshole showing up with all his nonsense after the new Team Miraculous is set, hell maybe even after they’ve already retrieved the Butterfly and the Peacock, and watching Marinette (and possibly Fu since he has the memories to stand up for himself) tear this dude a new one would really be the cherry on top of an already awesome fic. Sorry to rant in your inbox lol but the new episode just made me so. ANGRY.

In the lounge room of the Liberty, everyone jumped as they heard a noise from up above deck, as if something heavy had fallen or been dropped. Marinette briefly pulled away from Luka’s hold, staring up at the ceiling and wondering aloud, “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Juleka admitted, exchanging concerned looks with Rose.

“That definitely wasn’t Mom,” Luka noted with a tilt of his head.

Pounding footsteps followed, making it clear that a person had clearly gotten on the houseboat without the gangplank being there.

Nino jolted on alert, turning to Duusu with a hushed whisper. “Hide!”

“All of you,” Kagami began, standing up and looking around vaguely at every kwami. “get out of sight.”

The kwami, breaking out of their trance after the brief scare, scattered in every direction to find their own individual hiding places, some choosing to hide with their respective holder and others preferring to hide behind or inside objects. Ivan went into his usual protective mode, wrapping an arm around Mylene while she clung to him.

Marinette stood up, rushing over to the table and picking up the Miracle Box to stow it away. She looked around, then dashed for the microwave and stored the box inside.

She shut the door just in time for the intruder to descend from the staircase: an old man, dressed in Chinese garb and carrying a strange mystical-looking staff. He had a stern expression, his brows knitted together as he scanned the room like none of them were even there. He raised his staff, his gaze eventually locking on the microwave the Marinette was standing near.

Without a word, he pushed Marinette aside, earning an offended, “Excuse me—hey!” from her as he grabbed the microwave door and tugged it. When that did little more than jostle the microwave itself, he tried blindly tampering with the buttons to no avail.

Marinette slapped his wrist away, standing with all her pride as guardian as she asked, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

He glared at her in response. “Young lady, I demand you open your magical sealing chamber and return what’s rightfully mine!”

She blanked, the words catching her completely off-guard. This guy thought their microwave was a magical sealing chamber?

In response, Marinette gave a brief glance to the others, who were all looking back at her with equally puzzled expressions, any tension from before completely gone.

An unspoken question echoed throughout the room: Is he for real?

Before Marinette could ask any further, Tikki emerged from her hiding spot, flying over and explaining, “Marinette, I know who this is! This is great master Su-Han, the guardian of the Miracle Box!”

Marinette raised a brow skeptically. “But I’m the guardian?”

“He was responsible for the box before the incident that Master Fu caused,” she corrected.

Su-Han looked down at Marinette condescendingly. “So you are the current holder of the box.”

“That’s right,” she confirmed unapologetically. She gave a side-glance to Luka and the others, seeing that they were prepared to stand up and fight for her, but she gave a subtle gesture to let them know that it wasn’t necessary. Resolving to deal with Su-Han herself, she faced him again. “How did you find us?”

He held out his staff, the jewel on it mere centimeters from her face. “Guardian scepters are equipped with compasses that can find their Miracle Box at any given time.”

“In case you lose it?” Marinette blurted out, but didn’t apologize or try to take it back.

“Insolent!” Su-Han gasped. “You are not even a proper guardian. I can tell that this box hasn’t even been properly passed down to you!”

“Because Master Fu gave it to me,” she explained, “and we agreed that he should keep his memories.”

“Fu?” Su-Han echoed. “You mean Wang Fu? Chicken legs?”

Is this guy five? Marinette wondered.

Orikko popped out from their hiding place, waving a paw at Su-Han as if in warning. “I take offense to that!”

Su-Han glared at Orikko at the comment, and Orikko quickly ducked back down. Turning his attention back to Marinette, he continued, “Wang Fu is a student who wasn’t even able to fast for a day, nor do a thousand finger-pushups. He was never a rightful guardian, and he failed to fulfill the hope we’d seen in him.”

“Master Fu may have made mistakes, but he’s done his best to make up for all of them!” she argued. “He protected the box for over one hundred years and it’s because of his choices that our team was able to defeat Hawk Moth!”

“Team?” Su-Han asked, his face scrunching up as if he were piecing something together.

“Yes!”

Marinette gestured to her boyfriend and friends for emphasis. Luka, Ivan, Kagami, and Juleka stood while Rose and Nino pinched and stretched their shirts to show off their respective miraculouses.

“Children?” Su-Han gaped. Glaring at Marinette, as if she had personally given out the miraculouses herself, he declared, “Children are never meant to hold miraculouses, especially from the first and most powerful Miracle Box! Kwami are extremely powerful, cosmic creatures!”

A voice piped up from across the room. “Y-you say that, but—!”

Marinette and Su-Han turned to look at Nooroo, who had peeked out from behind Rose’s shoulder. He breathed up, seeming to gain some confidence, then floated out to the center of the room.

“They saved me and Duusu from the hands of evil! We would still be in Gabriel’s clutches if not for them!”

“What?” Su-Han asked. Just when Marinette thought they might be getting somewhere, he turned back to her and accused, “The peacock and butterfly were lost?!”

“Fu lost them when he was escaping the temple,” Marinette explained, a mixture between unphased and annoyed at the man’s outbursts, “but we got them back and everything’s okay now.”

Luka chimed in from his place near the couch, “Marinette has been an incredible leader, as both Ladybug and the guardian.”

She smiled at him in thanks, but Su-Han was clearly focused on anything but the positives.

“Ladybug? You’re even wearing a miraculous?! Guardians aren’t meant to hold miraculouses!” he said, throwing his arms out for effect.

“What—why?” she asked, genuinely confused.

Instead of answering her, Su-Han pulled out a book, shoving it pointedly towards her with the cover facing downwards in his palm. “Let me remind you of a few important rules you’ve violated.” He flipped through a few pages, then pointed at one of them. “Rule fourteen: Kwami must not live outside of the box.” He flipped through a few more. “Rule fifty-two: Guardians must never lose a miraculous. “He flipped to a page near the end. “Rule one hundred and thirty-three: Guardians must never, under any circumstances, wear a miraculous.”

“Master Fu wore a miraculous,” she argued, having never heard of any such rule from him.

“And that proves exactly what I’m talking about!” Su-Han retorted. “Neither you nor Fu are capable guardians because neither of you have respected the rules of the order!”

“...”

When Marinette initially imagined the Order of the Guardians and the people who ran it, this was not what she’d pictured. She had pictured zen and calm, not belligerent and immovable. She was reminded vaguely of her grandfather when she first met him, and that wasn’t a good thing.

She tossed another gaze at everyone, who gave her the same look and nod in response: let him have it.

“Young lady, I’ll repeat myself once,” Su-Han warned. “Return the Miracle Box and the miraculouses to me before--”

Marinette grabbed the book out of his hand, shut it with a satisfying “clap,” then set it back in his hand. “No.“

“What did you say?” he asked, aghast that she would speak to him that way.

“I said no.” Marinette advanced on him, the sheer force of her presence making him take a step back. “Now let me remind you about everything you must’ve missed this whole time.”

She raised a finger at him, raising additional fingers as she went on. “One: You intruded on my boyfriend’s house without any sort of permission. If you’d actually called out to us, we might’ve actually been willing to come out and listen to what you had to say. Two: You wouldn’t have even been able to be here in the first place if not for me using Miraculous Ladybug after our team took down Feast, which you weren’t able to do. Three: We aren’t children, we’re teenagers, and the fact that you can’t tell the difference or bother learning what technology is shows that I shouldn’t trust you with the Miracle Box even if you had a right to it. Four: You didn’t bother to listen and blamed me for losing miraculouses when it was you and your order who didn’t keep an eye on a poor boy who didn’t want to be there. Five, last but not least: I say the kwami are allowed out of the Miracle Box because I am the guardian. You and your order have been gone for over one hundred years and you can’t go making demands after I brought you back. You told me rules I didn’t even know about and didn’t explain why you have those rules in the first place. The kwami are my friends and they have feelings and I’m not going to shut them in a box because you told me to.”

Silence filled the room, no one saying a word and Su-Han’s face contorting between shock and outrage.

Marinette took a step back, standing at the ready and gesturing to herself. “So if you want the Miracle Box, you’re going to have to go through us first.”

She tossed a look at her team, all of them doing a synchronized, confrontational motion to face Su-Han.

“Tikki!”

“Plagg!”

“Wayzz!”

“Pollen!”

“Trixx!”

“Nooroo!”

“Duusu!”

They then shouted in unison, “Transform me!”

Several individual flashes meshed together, overtaking the room and then fading to leave several heroes behind, their weapons equipped for battle.

Su-Han looked amongst them, a flicker in his eyes that hinted that he knew he would be outmatched, but also wasn’t willing to admit it. He retreated a few steps back, hands out to show that he was prepared to defend himself.

It was at that moment that Ladybug heard and noticed movement from behind him, realization striking and a smile overtaking her face. Pulling back from her fighting pose, she placed a hand on her hip and stated confidently, “Captain Anarka will escort you out.”

He looked confused, and he was only able to let out a, “What—?” before a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Su-Han wasn’t even able to turn around before he was pulled backward, a jewelry-adorned fist decking him in the face and sending him flying into the staircase. His scepter fell to the floor and he could only gape at the woman standing there, cracking her knuckles while he was sprawled out on the stairs with all air having been knocked out of him.

“A trespasser on my ship, eh?” Anarka asked, a grin on her face but her eyes glinting with malice. “I don’t take kindly to ship rats who threaten my crew and think they’re too good to walk the plank.”

Su-Han hurried to get up, only for Anarka to grab him by his shirt and haul him up the stairs, a rapid shuffling noise following as Ladybug went over and shut the door.

A few seconds passed and the atmosphere shifted to peace, everyone mutually releasing their transformations and relaxing. Marinette smiled reassuringly at everyone, letting them know that things were okay, but then jumped as she heard a resounding, “Marinette!”

The kwami all emerged from their hiding places, Marinette having no time to react as they all charged at her, their tiny bodies clinging affectionately to whatever they could grab of her.

“You’re amazing!”

“Thank you so much!”

“You stood up for us!”

“You’re the best guardian ever!”

Marinette gasped, finding it hard to move without disturbing any of them. Trying hard not to laugh, she protested, “Aha—hey! Stop, you’re all tickling me!”

She blushed, looking over at her teammates who were only staring at her with pride, which just made the pink on her cheeks turn red. “This is so embarrassing!”

Once the kwami had their fill of thanking her, they finally obeyed and flew away, each giving her smiles of approval. She covered her face with a hand, waiting for the shyness to die down, then noticed the guardian scepter out of the corner of her eye, still lying on the ground.

She approached, touching the scepter at first to make sure it was safe, then properly picking it up and letting it stand next to her. She tapped the gem on top, eyeing the compass that Su-Han had been talking to her about, then followed its direction back to the microwave. She walked over, opening it up, then took out the Miracle Box and held it in her free hand.

Looking back and forth between the two clearly ancient objects, she couldn’t help chuckling. “They don’t really suit me.”

Her friends giggled in response, Luka in particular shooting her a warm smile and approaching. One of his hands went to the scepter and the other went to rest on the Miracle Box.

“I think you make them work, actually,” he replied.

Marinette beamed at him, thoroughly warmed by the compliment. It didn’t feel like that long ago when her support was lacking and defeating Hawk Moth seemed like a pipe dream.

Now, holding the Miracle Box and scepter in her hands, she didn’t know why she’d ever doubted herself.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Then, looking at the Su-Han-less room, she gave a shrug and walked back with Luka to the couch. “So, where were we?”

#((Technically spoilers for post-Hawk Moth stuff but nothing you guys don't already know.))#((For the record anon I'm still debating on doing ''Feast''))#((because it's a direct episode rewrite which LadyBugOut doesn't have so I'm nervous about it))#((I figured this might be a good start though.))#((I imagine Team Miraculous would have everything resolved by the time S4E6 hits))#((so hence the time jump.))#collab: LadyBugOut AU #canonicity: all #canonicity: canon compliant #writing: all #writing: canon compliant #writing: salt #character: marinette dupain cheng #group: team miraculous #salt: all #salt: other

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