#I had to go job centre and it started to rain

[strawbabysweet]

How I feel rn :3

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1

Summary: In 1985, you were assigned as a custodian in the King's Landing Psychiatric inpatient and wellness center after your mother's passing. Your job was mundane and boring, but that was until a new patient arrived, a young man with a wild and eccentric personality, harbouring a secret that will change your life forever.

Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

“Room 393 needs cleaning up, new guy is coming” you heard your supervisor Mona so you sighed and quickly nodded. Working as a custodian in a mental health facility wasn't ever really a dream job for you but you didn't have any option at the moment. Your mother had worked all her life for the center and when she passed, as per her request beforehand, the job was immediately offered to you, and you had debts to pay so you couldn't really deny that offer.

At thirty you didn't really see your life heading towards anything better anyways and you didn't really despise working here. Helping people feel good at times. Your job wasn't limited to cleaning services, you would often get assigned to patients who needed a caregiver for physical and emotional needs.

King's landing psychiatric inpatient and wellness center was a six floor building at the outskirts of London, it was established in 1955 and your mother had started her job the same year, it's been thirty years now and two years since she had passed, she was living nearby because she was married and had a child, you on other hand didn't want to travel back n forth so you chose to live here itself as a permanent live in staff of the wellness center.

You were accustomed to seeing patients coming in for various disorders, most were delusional at worst or suffered from some sort of dysphoria. However, the patients at the King's Landing Wellness Center were not usually considered dangerous and you had never felt threatened by any one of them except a few women who lashed out at you and pushed you around last year. But with time, you had learned to provide them with the care and attention they needed instead of judging them for the outburst.

“Are you listening y/n?” You snapped back to reality as Mona called your name and gathered your cleaning cart to go fix room 393, there was this girl that had just gotten released from the facility, Tanya, she was a shy, quiet girl in her mid twenties with a debilitating case of multiple personality disorder.

You mostly kept to yourself at the facility as you didn't want to get involved or too overly attached with the patients.

The moment you took the mattress off to deep clean the bed, you discovered a piece of paper underneath. Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to open it. Once you saw the writing on the paper, a feeling of unease coursed through your body, the words seemed almost ominous

“They are going to hurt me. I know, I'll never get out of here, if you find this please make sure to check up on me please”

You sighed before you folded the paper and placed it inside your apron quickly before it would get lost. What did she mean you wondered? The centre was under the supervision of three doctors. Doctor Vis was a man in his early forties and he was the most feared of all three because of his unorthodox methods of treatment but the other two doctors, Lisa and Darren seemed more approachable.

As you made your way out of room 393, you saw Doctor Vis standing in the hallway, having a conversation with another man. The other man stood with his back against the wall while Doctor Vis stood uncomfortably close to him, he was handcuffed so you assumed that he was being aggressive in his therapy session, as you walked past them you looked at the man briefly and normally you'd have looked away but this time you couldn't for some reason, he had a shiny silver hair that you had never really seen on a man before and it caught your eye immediately. The uniform he had on wasn't a surprise as it was a dress code for the patients, a white shirt and same coloured trousers.

His eyes met yours briefly and he smirked so you looked away immediately ,

“You didn't tell me you hired such beautiful chicks around here to be your servant-” Daemon had barely finished his sentence before Vis grabbed his collar to warn him. Vis looked as you walked past them and turned to make left into the hallway, disappearing out of their sight.

“Don't make this more difficult than it already is you moron”

Dr. Vis escorted Daemon into the room where he was immediately uncuffed. With the doctor now gone, Daemon let out an angry roar before throwing the chair into the room's window, shattering it into pieces.

“New guy is here” you mumbled as you reached the canteen. The rest of the staff members, including those from the pantry and cleaning services, were already gathered at the table. Shyla, who was the same age as you approached you. But in contrast to you, Shyla appeared to have a backup plan in mind after her tenure here.

“Oh god have you guys seen him, he's really hotttt in a really weird way”

You gulped as she said that, she always lived on the edge, it was unprofessional and unethical to talk about patients this way. Besides, he wasn't hot at all.

“Cut out with the heart eyes girl he must be a cuckoo to be here”

Another woman, Dina , intervened as she whispered very quietly, you didn't appreciate her language but then she wasn't wrong, sane people didn't come here.

“Hey y/n, new patient broke the window in 393, clean it up”

Mona suddenly entered the canteen so you sighed but then you were left feeling confused.

“How did he break it? Those windows are supposed to be unbreakable” you asked her curiously as the windows in the patient's room were specifically designed to withstand extreme conditions and were built to be unbreakable for security reasons.

“Don't question what's and how's, do your job girl” she glared at you so you picked up your cleaning cart again.

As you entered room 393, you spotted the new patient on the bed, seemingly engrossed in a book. Your brow furrowed as you took in the sight of the debris of shattered glass scattered around the room. Quickly, you grabbed a broom and began the cleaning process, starting from the corners to ensure that you picked up every last shard. As you swept, you couldn't help but feel puzzled as to how the window was broken in the first place,

“You shouldn't be doing such things, they are not afraid of sending violent patients to the lone ward” you mumbled so he looked up from his book and then glanced at you from top to bottom before he let out a snicker.

“Awnnn do you get paid to offer advice around here or cleaning is your only area of expertise?”

You glared at him as he said that but you remained calm, you couldn't raise your voice with patients even though you had been wanting to do it for a long while now.

“Sir im just-” you cringed internally as you addressed him as sir, it wasn't a norm but then you didn't really know his name yet. He had changed out of his uniform so you couldn't even read the name tag.

“Do your fucking job girl and get out”

You cut back on your words as he spoke rudely to you, perhaps he was admitted for extreme anger issues, whatever it was you just wanted to get out and not see him at least for a day.

You missed Tanya, she was a sweet girl, and you hadn't forgotten the note you had found under her bed this morning but then she wasn't exactly stable in her mind, people often scribbled down their most intrusive thoughts in their free time, and there was abundance of that around here. Besides you had bid her goodbye, she had hugged you warmly and she seemed happier for once.

During the lunch service you saw his smug face again as he sat down in the corner of the cafeteria, his eyes met with yours and he gave you a small smile but you didn't return it. Though you didn't want to take his words personally, he was dealing with something and that's why he was here.

“Mrs Rodriguez, are you finished with your food?” You asked the elderly lady so she snapped out of her thoughts and nodded but as you raised your hand forward to pick up her plate she grabbed your hand,

“Simon thinks i should eat less” she mumbled almost fearfully and your heart clenched for her, Simon was merely a figment of her imagination.

“Well he's wrong because you are eating as much as you should” she let go of your hand and smiled as you said that to her. When you reached around his table you noticed that he hadn't even touched his food,

“Are you going to eat sir? Your half an hour is almost over” you asked him so he chuckled. New patients in the center had strict rules and regulations to follow during the beginning of their treatment.

“Who should I be asking around here for a smoke?” He asked you and your brows furrowed.

“That's not allowed, i will help you with a nicotine patch if you're feeling restless -” he rolled his eyes as you said that.

“I don't need that shit” he grumbled under his breath so you looked at the time. Looking at him you couldn't really tell what actually was wrong with him, well besides the anger issues obviously, he seemed almost normal, almost self aware which really wasn't usual around this place.

“Please finish your food, dinner service is around 8 and a man of your size won't get any nutrition from the snacks we offer during tea time” you spoke a bit sternly and the corner of his mouth curved into a small smile.

“What's your name y/n?” He asked you so you looked at him baffled, he clearly read your name on the badge and he said it as well.

“I don't know your name either” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile

“Daemon”

“Have an easy day Mr. Daemon, first few days are always difficult” you ultimately grabbed his plate as you left because he didn't seem to be in any mood to eat at the time.

Around evening as you finished your shift you made your way to your room at the fourth floor to take a shower and relax a bit. You took out the note you had found under Tanya's bed and placed it inside your cupboard safely, a part of you continued to feel uneasy about this thing, another was thinking about Daemon.

Why was he there? What had he done? You were not allowed to enquire about these things unless or until you were told the information by the authorities.

Daemon couldn't really sleep at night, how could he? He was locked up in here and was being treated as if he was crazy but he knew what he was and he wasn't delusional about it either. Even as sleep came for him he had a horrible nightmare that had him tossing and turning in his bed again so he woke up and stepped out of his room quietly as the room was starting to suffocate him. That's when he found the window at the end of the corridor and that was all he needed.

Around 2 at night, you were enjoying a peaceful moment to yourself on the terrace of the building, taking a break with a cigarette. As you were absorbed in your own thoughts, you heard a loud thud sound from behind you. Startled, you jumped and quickly turned around, only to find the new patient, Daemon, standing there. You couldn't believe how he had gotten there, he didn't have the key to the door and you clearly remembered locking it when you had gotten in. The terrace was strictly off-limits to patients for obvious reasons.

“What..are you doing here, you can't be here mister” you almost sounded frantic and kind of scared to be honest. And why didn't he have a shirt on? It was freaking cold out here. And why was he so freaking ripped?

“Hooking me up with a bloody nicotine patch when you got this sweet thing right here?” he asked you as he approached you so you took a few steps behind you until you had hit the ledge. You quickly threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it under your flip flops before he could attempt to steal it from you.

“Now that's a waste of a good cigarette” he almost seemed offended with his brows furrowed and scowl on his face.

“Look, don't come near me alright?” You warned him so he crossed his arms and stepped closer to you despite your warning.

“I'm not going to harm you, I can, don't get me wrong.. but I won't”

Was that supposed to make you feel better?

“Please come with me, let me take you to your room .. please”

As he heard your gentle voice his teeth gritted together. “Please just listen to me ..it's only best for you” You brought your arm forward to grab his forearm but you flinched away as soon as you had touched his skin.

“Are you sick? You're burning like a furnace” You asked him worriedly so he scratched his scalp before he looked around and took a deep breath “And how did you get here?”

“I'm not sick, do I look sick to you?” He asked you so you shook your head but that was pointless, if he was a regular smoker, perhaps he was feeling the withdrawal.

“Just one puff, I'll be indebted to you forever darling, please, what do you want me to do beg? I can beg on my knees .You want that?..”

“Ohhh shut up for god's sake -” You cut him off mid sentence as he started to ramble but the stupid smirk on his face was still there. “I'll lose my job Daemon -”

“Nobody will know”

“I can't do it.. please understand please..”

He sighed and the pleading look on your face made him willing to listen to you ultimately.

How did he even come up here? You had come via the main entrance and it was locked from inside. As you escorted him back to his room, you mumbled a quick good night but he suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the door, your heart was right into your mouth at the moment for several different reasons, you had been pushed over by several women at the facility but never a man, especially not a man like him who seemed so strong and so unstable. If worse comes to worse you knew you wouldn't be able to defend yourself.

“Daemon let go of me” you mumbled sternly but his hands were on your upper arms, holding you tightly still. He wasn't hurting you, not yet at least.

“Shhhhh shhh shhhh” as he whispered in your ear you were going to scream but nothing came out of your throat, not even a squeak, you feared that he was going to touch you inappropriately, if this wasn't inappropriate as it was, but then he placed his nose on the crook of your neck and took a sniff. Like a wild animal he sniffed you, literally.

One sniff, two sniff, and then one two three at once, you couldn't help but wonder why you weren't feeling as uncomfortable as you should have in a similar situation.

“What are you doing?” You asked him gently to not aggregate him so he looked you right in the eyes before he cupped your cheeks and stared at your lips, his nose rubbed slightly against yours before he closed his eyes, grunted a little and finally stepped away from you. His chest was heaving from breathlessness, same as yours as you both stared at each other for a moment. What the hell was that?

“Get out lady”

He mumbled so you immediately got the fuck out of there, you were looking behind every step of the way to see if he was following you but he wasn't. At the end of the corridor you stopped as suddenly, your feet came in contact with a piece of fabric on the floor, and when you bent down to investigate, you realized it was Daemon's shirt but it was completely shredded in several pieces - the same shirt he had worn this evening.

The realization left you feeling even more puzzled and disoriented. How had he managed to enter the terrace when it was locked from the outside. It seemed impossible. It was impossible. Or perhaps there was another way? Or maybe you were going crazy yourself? Now that was possible.

As your head hit your pillow you ran your fingers over your neck, right where he was sniffing, he seemed so...so primal in that moment, so animalistic, if that was the right choice of word. Did you atleast smell good? God you hoped so. Or not. He was a patient, you had to keep that in mind, he had issues.

The next morning while Daemon was away for his therapy session with the doctors you decided to clean up his room, he had left you feeling a bit unnerved last night with his strange behavior but you weren't really scared of him and then you wondered why you weren't scared of him after what he had done.

The iron bars on his window were the first thing you had noticed as you had entered the room. As you heard loud footsteps approaching the room you quickly collected your stuff to prepare to leave.

As Dr. Vis entered with Daemon he looked at you and spoke politely “Will you please step out ?” Vis asked you so you nodded immediately.

“Yes doctor, I'm almost done” you grabbed your cart and walked past them, your eyes met with Daemon and he seemed angry, but also really sad? His eyes were read and teary, such a contrast from his snarky demeanor yesterday.

As the door slammed shut, you found yourself in a state of morbid curiosity. So instead of minding your own business as you should have, you pressed your ear against the door instead, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was going on inside. Why did he look so sad?

“You had promised you wouldn't start with the absurdity right off the bat” Dr. Vis yelled at Daemon and that bothered you. Why was he yelling at a patient like this on his second day?

“Absurdity? You think me speaking of my true self is absurd?” Daemon asked the doctor and you didn't understand what was happening, what was he suffering from?

Dazed and confused as you reached the staff area Shyla walked around the table with a smirk on her face so you finally gave in.

“What?”

As you asked her she slammed her hands on the table in a dramatic manner.

“I found out why the new guy is here”

You weren't the one to gossip but you really wanted to know why Daemon was there? Why was he here? What was hurting him?

“How did you find out?” You asked her to seem disinterested as you didn't want to make your interest apparent.

“I have my source girl” she patted herself on shoulders so you crossed your arms together.

“Uhuh and what did your source tell you?”

“Well you're not ready for this-"

“Just spill it already” you chuckled as you spoke but the way she was stalling had only gotten you more curious.

“He thinks..now listen to this..he thinks he's a dragon” she mumbled excitedly so you stared at her all perplexed.

“What?”

“The new guy believes that he's a human dragon hybrid or something like that.. unbelievable right?”

Oh well!! That was a big problem huh.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 15

Author's note: You don't want to miss this week's chapters 👀

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

It's been three months. Three months, twelve days and twenty hours (yes, I've counted them) since I slapped Declan's face and told him I didn't want to see him again. But today that is over, because the national team is coming back to Tottenham training centre, and I'll have to face him again.

The phase of feeling like there is a hole in my chest and crying with everything is over. But am I ready to see him and those stupid blue eyes of his, to hear his loud laugh, and to smell his perfume everywhere around me? I am not. At all. 

But oh, well.  

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“What do you mean he isn't coming?”

“He picked up some kind of injury on the last game. Not sure what, tho, I don't understand those things” Olga says. “But he apparently is going back to Arsenal so he can rest.”

“Thank God” I sigh.

“You look so relieved, Liv” she laughs.

“Well, how would you feel if you were about to see again the guy you fell in love with and who broke your heart, and had to put on a smile on your face and make him coffee as if nothing had happened because otherwise you could be losing your job?”

“I don't think they would fire you for not smiling at him.”

“Yeah, but for dropping a boiling coffee on his precious feet…”

“Oh my God, Liv” she gasps. “I know he was a dick and I hate him for what he did to you. But would you do something like that?”

“Maybe” I shrug.

“Olivia!” she gasps again.

“I was kidding, it was just a joke. Relax.”

Though maybe I wasn't 100% kidding. Because I think this is the new phase I'm in. Violence. Rage. Wanting to hurt him as badly as he hurt me.

“I hope so” Olga says, giving me a worried look. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Bloody hell” I curse when half the boxes of napkins I'm carrying end up on the floor.

“Let me help you” a voice says next to me.

“It's ok, don't… worry” I say, looking up at the owner of that voice and getting lost in the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. Declan. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Uh?”

“Weren't you injured?”

“Yes.”

“Then?”

“They want to run some tests before I leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, good. The sooner the better. And I can do this myself, I don't need your help.”

“Liv, please…”

“No” I say, snatching one of the boxes from his hand and starting to walk away. 

“Liv, c'mon. I just want to talk.”

“And I already told you I don't want to talk to you ever again. Besides being a liar, are you also deaf now?”

“Liv…”

“Stop saying my name, Declan. You are gonna wear it off.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, sure” I snort. 

“I am, Olivia. If you'll let me explain myself…”

“I said no, Declan. And now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do” I say, turning around and walking into the cafeteria, taking big breaths to calm myself and not kick something or start crying again. Or both.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“See you tomorrow, Liv” Olga says before getting into her car.

“Bye” I smile back. 

It's already dark outside, the car park full of puddles from the rain. And I'm so busy trying to not step on one of them while also looking for my keys inside my bag, that I don't see the person standing next to my Mini until he talks to me.

“Hello, Liv.”

“Holy mother of Jesus!” I scream, my bag falling from my hands and ending on a puddle. “What the fuck are you doing here, Declan?”

“I want to talk with you” he says, picking up my bag.

“Again? Didn't I make myself clear earlier?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But you are stupid, I know. And now look, my best bag is ruined because of you” I say, snatching it from his hands just as I did with the napkins. It is soaking wet.

“At least your phone wasn't inside” he shrugs.

“What a relief, uh?” I say, walking around him and opening the car's door, throwing my bag inside.

“Liv, it'll be just a minute. Please let me…”

“No, Declan! I don't want to hear your excuses! I'm done with you! Why can't you understand it?”

“Because I… Liv…”

“Because I… Liv…” I repeat, making fun of him. “Don't you have somewhere else to be? Like texting that singer or one of those other girls you are sleeping with to let them know you will be free tomorrow?”

“Liv…”

“For the love of God, stop saying my name!” I say, lifting my arm to slap him like I did at his house. But like happened the second time, he grabs it before I can touch him.

“I probably deserved that” he says, closing the space between us.

“You definitely did, yes.”

“I was a dick.”

“You are a dick” I correct him, trying to stay focused on being mad at him. But it isn't easy. The way he is looking at me is making my heart beat too fast, my knees are already feeling like jelly as he keeps moving closer, and my skin is burning where his fingers are touching me.

“Liv…” he whispers, his free hand moving to my face, caressing my cheek.

“Stop saying my name, Declan.”

“I can't.”

“You…” He is too close. So close that I can smell his perfume everywhere around me, surrounding me, making me get lost on him. Fuck. Shit. No. “Declan…” I whisper.

And then, what I didn't want to happen, happens. 

At first he just brushes his lips against mine, something delicate, barely noticeable. But it is enough to send a wave of electricity through my whole body, making me shudder in his arms. And when he properly kisses me, I'm gone. My arms move on their own, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer to me. Which only makes his kisses more intense, more desperate. We are kissing as if our lives depended on it, as if we needed each other to breathe. And that doesn't stop when I open my car's back door and we both get inside. When clothes start leaving our bodies, the little space turning us into a tangle of limbs, pushing us against the other as close as it is humanly possible, gasps, moans and other unholy noises leaving our mouths. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Liv, this just came for you” Alex says, leaving a big package on the table where Olga and I are having lunch.

“Who is sending me something here?” I ask with a confused look.

“I don't know” he shrugs, sitting down next to us.

“Open it, Liv!” Olga says. 

“Ok” I say, doing as she's asked.

“Oh… my God. Did you buy yourself a designer bag?” she says when she sees the box.

“I didn't, no.”

“Then who sent this?”

“I… I don't know” I say, slowly opening it.

“Liv! That's the bag you've been wanting for ages! How many times have we gone to Harrods just to stare at it?” 

“Too many” I chuckle.

“Does it say who has sent it?” Alex asks.

“There is a note, yes” I say, taking it and reading it while Olga marvels at the bag.

“You once told me that you were in love with this bag, that you would go to Harrods with your friends and stare at it wishing it was yours. Well, guess what. Now it is. Hope it makes up for the one I ruined the other night. -DR ”

“And?” Alex asks again. “Who sent it?”

“Kennedy.”

“Madders’ wife got you a designer bag?”

“She says she got invited to do some free shopping, was able to choose whatever she wanted, remembered that I was feeling a bit down, and…” I shrug.

“They gifted her a designer bag?” Olga gasps, totally buying my lie.

“They gave her a budget and it was the same amount of money as the bag.”

“Wow. The life of a wag” she laughs. “I want friends like that too. This is so nice…”

“It is” I smile. 

“Olga, we need you” one of our coworkers says.

“Coming” she sighs. “Will you let me try it on later?”

“Of course.”

“Urgh, you are the best, Liv” she says, giving me a hug before leaving.

“Kennedy's last name is Rice now?” Alex says.

“Uh?”

“You may fool Olga, but not me. I know he sent you that bag. Are you back together? Did you forgive him?”

“No and no.”

“Then?”

“Then what, Alex?”

“Then why did he buy you that bag?”

“Because it is over. It is like a goodbye gift.”

“A goodbye gift?” he laughs.

“Yes. Now if you'll excuse me” I say, getting up and taking the bag and the package with me.

Even though Declan and I haven't talked again since what happened in my car, we both know what it meant: it was a goodbye. One that hurts and that neither of us wanted if we only think about what we were feeling that night, but that was the right thing to do.

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze?

Ok so I wanted to start posting my Soulmates AU for Raindrop month, but writing for my Medieval one is going waay better than planned and it's confusing me to have 2 separate backstories in my head at once, so while I still have *checks calendar* 5 DAYS, here's a little stand-alone ficlet!

What if we kissed in the Maize Maze? A Midwest Emo Ghouls AU ficlet

Rating: T Content: fluff, literally that's it just fluff Words: 615

Lots of love to @alwaysjustmina for organizing this month again this year, I love any excuse to write about our soggy boys!! 🌦️🖤

hello @revengeghoulette, here is your summons as promised!! 🫡

Read below, or on AO3!

Haymaking season was coming to an end, and Swiss, Mountain and all the ghouls who pitched in to help were looking forward to a well-deserved break. To celebrate the end of the season, Swiss had built a maze out of hay bales for the children and kits of the town, as well as some of the more enthusiastic adults.

The whole community had come together to put on a party at the ghouls' farm. Mountain and his colleagues from the hardware store had built fairground games, Dew had dragged the church's speakers down on a trailer and was playing records Mist had brought from her shop. Aurora's cafe had a small pop-up, and Cirrus had brought a vat of apple cider, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic, for the younger guests. Cumulus was in her element, her little face-painting stall attracting such a sizeable queue that Sunshine had jumped in to help out. Phantom was taking his new role as Youth Pastor – and more recently Sunday School teacher – very seriously, replacing her in supervising a very intense game of tag. While Mountain minded the hay maze, Swiss was giving rides on the haycart he had hitched to the back of his tractor, driving the children and kits up and down the field in the warm afternoon sunshine.

After closing time, once the families had gone home, the ghouls had the place to themselves without getting in the way of the fun of the younger members of the community. Rain and Dew were the last ones left inside the maze. Aurora and Mist had quickly disappeared somewhere together, Sunny, Cirrus and Cumulus were deep into their mission of finishing off the cider now that their responsibilities were over, the three of them covered in rainbow paint and body glitter.

Dewdrop and Rain walked hand in hand through the maze, quietly drinking in each other’s company in the balmy evening air. Making it to the centre of the maze they sat down on a bale, surrounded by golden walls on all sides as the amber glow of sunset spread across the sky. Dew leaned his head on Rain’s shoulder, utterly content in the moment.

���It’s beautiful.” Rain commented, as they watched the play of colours around them. “Just like you.”

Dew turned his face to bury it in Rain’s neck, bashful.

“You are, and I’m so proud of you, taking over from Aeth like you did. You’re doing such a great job, love! Look at how the town and harvest are flourishing. I’m honoured to call you my husband.”

Never one to take compliments well, Dew redirected Rain’s affections by capturing his lips in a searing kiss. The pair lost themselves in each other, the cooling temperatures went unnoticed past the warmth of their bodies, the slight prickliness of the hay nothing compared to the soft slide of their lips.

By the time they came up for air, Dew having squirmed his way into Rain’s lap, the sky was glowing a deep russet colour. From outside the maze, they could hear the sounds of the others packing up to leave.

“Alright lovebirds, time to come out or I’ll send the dogs in!” they heard Swiss call. The pair only giggled, Rain placing feather-light kisses across Dew’s cheekbones while he blushed the colour of the sky.

“You don’t have a dog!” Dew hollered back as he struggled to hold in his giggles.

“Hi Dewy.” deadpanned Mountain.

Eventually, Dew and Rain managed to find their way out of the maze, neither wanting to be found and carried out by the giant earth ghoul.

“Nice straw hat, Rain.” smirked Swiss, “although normally you weave it into itself, not directly into your hair!”

[queer-crip-grows]

Right-to-buy council houses without specifically only releasing housing that already had a replacement built was of the most notable ways of the *many* that Thatcher et al screwed the UK.

I’d love to have a law put in place that landlords either have to sign contracts to provide housing under council house-type contracts with rent controls to people on housing benefit etc, or sell to the local council at compulsory purchase prices.

Same for all the houses not being lived in - use to house people under contractual controls, or have to sell to the council housing central fund.

Personally I’d start converting all the office units that are no longer needed because so many people are working remotely now into housing too.

Same for the huge city centre shops - I’m not sure if the pattern repeats elsewhere, but I live near Glasgow and the city centre has basically died since Covid. No one is renting the huge retail stores and the place is full of unhoused folk, which is a fucking scandal. So convert them into housing; let the buildings see use, and let those folks get off the streets. Pets and kids specifically allowed too - get families out of one-room shelters and into proper homes of their own.

I’ve heard that there would be issues putting in water infrastructure, but given the place is literally crumbling already and usage in so many areas is so low that having workers digging up the streets to install water lines wouldn’t cause enormous disruption, the time to do this is *now*. Build rainwater catchment and purification systems on roofs too - we get so much rain in the UK it’s kind of ridiculous not to use it! Some of that could go directly to drip irrigation in gardens, but plenty could go right into the houses/flats too. And of course this would provide tons of jobs in construction, architecture, planning etc etc.

Install gardens and green spaces around the place while you are doing this - offer some at low rent, or to buy cheaply, to market gardeners, but specifically put spaces in for communal gardens with the idea of offering allotments and encouraging people to grow their own food.

Put solar panels on every roof and integrate spaces for smaller wind turbines amongst the houses too. Huge storage batteries in basements to make the new blocks as low-footprint and self-sufficient as possible power-wise.

It would be a *fantastic* opportunity to create genuinely accessible housing - office buildings and shops already have lifts and wide corridors ideal for wheelchairs and other mobility devices, so keep that in the design when creating housing. There is a hidden epidemic of houselessness amongst disabled people and older folk with mobility needs, so create low-rent council housing that specifically fits those needs there.

It would regenerate the areas - all the smaller shopfronts not suitable for housing conversion would fill up with people offering the things people in residential neighbourhoods need, with a guaranteed payer base. People on low incomes *use* all of their incomes on necessities, so small businesses selling those necessities will do well. Offer small businesses low rents to provide those necessities. Any that don’t fill up, offer to charities and use for council staff offering the aid and advice people transitioning into housing actually *need*.

Carers are generally low-paid - so this would be an opportunity to offer them cheap housing close to a huge client base in the new accessible housing. No need for low-paid, mostly-female workers to dash constantly between clients in cars. They could walk to work and walk in between clients, who would also no longer be trapped in inaccessible homes, so people who are not actually bedbound would hopefully be less housebound.

Put rooms in the blocks for communal and co-op activities to reduce isolation - with the lifts and wide corridors, even people who are functionally housebound are likely to be able to make it to a room in their own building, and even quite young children could get to those places safely on their own if their parents are working. Wraparound childcare, paid and informal, near where folks actually live.

City centre areas that are now largely dead other than unhoused people, with limited and decreasing zero economic activity taking place and a decreasing incentive for businesses to set up there rather than in out-of-town retail parks people need to drive to, would become vibrant communities with every incentive for businesses to set up there, particularly for the small businesses that still employ the majority of people.

It wouldn’t take a lot to extend this model to transform those out-of-town business parks that are currently largely empty either; nothing says the businesses that are still there would need to move, and they would have a huge new pool of potential employees living within easily walkable distance, though there would need to be oversight to make sure places like Amazon didn’t attempt to buy them up and turn them into company housing. There would need to be a little more investment to provide green transport links like electric buses and trains so that it would be easier for small businesses to move in to provide services, but given the tax income that would result and the reduction in pollution the investment would probably pay itself back within a decade or so.

[flo55i]

michael goes with daniel to the hospital 1.5k of Daniel&Michael for the platonic friend fix

“I want you to go with them, Michael.”

It wasn’t a question; Christian was already pulling at Michael’s headset and taking it from his neck, pushing him towards the car idling at the edge of the garage. 

“But Blake can…there are others more suited, surely.” Michael had trailed off. 

The level of emotion outlined in Christian’s severe frown surprised him into giving up whatever he was going to come up with to get out of it. He looked at the concrete floor instead, at the rain still pooling along pit lane, like he was intruding on a private moment. Maybe then he would have been able to swallow the lump in his own throat. 

Daniel was fine, he reminded himself.   

“I want you to keep me informed. Help him keep it together, that sort of thing.” The hand on his shoulder, guiding him out of the back of the garage had felt like a noose instead. 

By the time they are in the back of a car together, the choked feeling has migrated to his chest as Michael can’t work out what is appropriate to say at a time like this. What will be the first thing he and Daniel have said to each other in probably months. 

“How are you feeling then?” Is the generic phrase that he goes with. The last thing he needs is Daniel yelling at him again, accusing him of being unfeeling.

Cold-hearted wanker is the word he actually thinks was used last time. 

“Like I probably should have hit the McLaren instead.” Daniel snorts, and although he’s got his head leaning back against the headrest, Michael knows him well enough to tell that he’s smiling. Even if it’s in sarcasm. 

“I mean, it all happened so fast. I doubt anyone would have blamed you if you did.” Michael tries to assure any lingering guilt. 

“I’ll keep that in time for next time I crash out then, shall I?” 

It’s biting and Michael doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. Eyes on the front, he concentrates on the two doctors who sit up in the driver’s and passenger seats of the SUV—one from the medical centre, the other from RedBull— who are arguing in German about the best way to leave the track. Cameras and fans crowd the vehicle making it hard to see anything out the windows and when Michael turns back, Daniel has his head tilted once more to the ceiling, eyes closed, conversation apparently over. 

He’s not asleep though. The broken arm is strapped carefully tight to his chest but his thigh is jiggling, teeth gritted, yet he still tries to breathe deep through them. It makes a little wheezing sound that has Michael pursing his lips. He wonders how much—if any— pain medication he’d been given so far. 

Not caring about offending Daniel’s delicate sensibilities, or how to approach the stalemate between them, Michael reaches for Daniel’s good wrist to check his pulse. The stupid idiot can rant and rave for all he cares, it’s his job to help.

(He needs to make sure Daniel’s ok.) 

The pulse is consistent enough, considering. Michael checks his pupils too— almost fully dilated, which means he’s running on adrenaline only. 

“Why didn’t you let them give you anything for the pain, you moron? Now is not the time to start playing the martyr.” Michael scolds. Whilst Daniel may have been too tired to protest his manhandling, Daniel bares the censure less gracefully. 

“This isn’t that kind of trip, mate.” And Michael knows the last word tacked on to the end is meant to be mocking. Hurtful. He tries not to let how much show on his face. 

“I know you don’t think I like, have any”, Daniel continues, apparently not done with settling the score, “But somebody’s gotta have at least some sort of control when they’re deciding the future of my career up there.” 

Tilting his head, he motions towards the two doctors out front, who haven’t spoken a word to Daniel about how he’s doing or what to expect since they barked at him to keep his arm above his heart as soon as the door was closed.

But instead of pity, the reminder of RedBull and their exacting levels of control over Daniel’s life has Michael angry. 

“What happened to, it’s nice to finally be with family? People who really care about me?” Michael throws back the words Daniel has been spouting to every tabloid ever since his return to the sport. 

It’s petty but Michael doesn’t care. It had felt like all their years of friendship being thrown back in his face. Still does. Serves the selfish fucker right to feel a bit of that back. 

But Daniel’s not playing that game with him anymore it seems. 

“Got me there!” He jokes. But his head is bowed, smile mocking somehow in its complacency. Michael thinks it might be regret. 

“You were always telling me I never did have the best instincts, right?”

It’s probably the most of an apology he’s ever going to get. And combined with the struggling, broken look Michael swore after last year he never wanted to see on Daniel’s face again, his first instinct is to fix. To make it better like he always has. 

It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell him of Horner’s concerned frown as he’d pushed Michael into the awaiting car to be with him, to help him. But he can’t help but selfishly think of his own feelings still burning away inside of him. 

How Daniel ought to know what it felt like for him as his heart had leapt right out of his chest the second he’d hit the wall. What it felt like for him when Daniel cut him out of his life like that because he dared to offer a different perspective on his life decisions like any good friend would. 

Michael berates himself immediately and wonders when it became a competition between them. An us versus them kinda deal. Him or RedBull. 

Wonders if he was this much of an asshole all along. 

Daniel had asked, he’d answered. No. No, he did not think it a good idea to go back to RedBull. But Daniel had taken it with all the grace and comprehension of an elephant. Accused him of being non supportive when he was only trying to be anything but. Just like he’s trying— failing— to do at the moment. 

Sighing out loud, Michael lets the opportunity to say I told you so go. Lets it all go. Because it’s not about him. Or them. Then or now. 

“Look.” He starts. “They love you so fucking much I have no doubt that they’ve already lined up an IV full of stroopwafles for you. The best money can buy.” 

“Is that so?” Daniel says, practically preening under the attention of the admission. Michael just sees how fragile he looks.

Even when you take away the bandages, the sling, even the bags of exhaustion under his eyes, he knows that cocky bravado is just a front for all Daniel’s insecurities and the things he won’t say. How he’s hanging on Michael’s words to believe him. 

The car comes to a stop. They’re at the hospital now. Michael feels Daniel tense up beside him. He  scoots closer, as if to hide Daniel from the hoards of fans tapping at the glass. He knows they only mean well but they are still demanding time and attention from him now, phones at the ready and already pointing in their faces like weapons. 

Michael moves again to make sure their knees are touching. Smiles when it’s enough to still Daniel’s own. 

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Yeah I do. This is your show, man.” 

“And what if I said I wanted to steal a wheelchair before they start thinking about cutting me open and harvesting me for parts to give to the junior program?” 

Michael looks to where the doctors are already out of the car, shaking hands with someone from the hospital emergency department to greet them in a white coat—obviously another doctor. Someone pretty important with the way three nurses follow in his wake. 

All for a broken arm, Michael scoffs. 

This level of scrutiny, of care, should hardly surprise him. RedBull have invested way too much money into Daniel and his body for them to give up the chance of losing it and the skills it’s cultivated now. He’s not gonna tell Daniel that though. 

From the tone Daniel had used— half-softening the blow from his own depleted expectations, half cautious— Michael is aware Daniel is checking if he’s as committed as he says he is. If he can be trusted with the truth of how scared about this all he actually is. 

Michael knows what to say this time. 

“Then I’ll get you a scalpel to fight back with. Whatever it takes.”  

And he means it. Especially later, as he’s standing back in the paddock, listening to Daniel’s order of events. He’s scowling at Marko for constantly interrupting to find out exactly when Daniel will be back to full function again. 

Daniel plays it up. The grin on his face and the erratic movement of his one, good arm says he’s thoroughly enjoying the way he’s keeping him in suspense. Helmut’s eyebrow seems to climb higher and higher the more Daniel ignores him, continuing his story about when they were plastering his arm. At how lost in translation the word mummy had got and the extra concussion tests they made him do because of it. 

To the side, amongst Daniel’s laughter, Christian slaps Michael on the back and says, “Everything turned out as well as it should then.” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees softly, leaving it at that. 

Of course he could tell Christian about the way he had to bribe Daniel to get into the cat scan machine— just in case— giving him a running commentary on the topography of his brain like a David Attenborough video to keep him still and calm in the enclosed space. 

Or about the fact that Michael had to fill out all the forms presented to them because he apparently knows more about Daniel’s medical needs and history than he even did. Or their doctor. 

Or even how he ended up calling Daniel’s parents for him to tell them he was fine— not even a concussion, Grace. Not a screw any looser than what it was, I promise— because no one at RedBull apparently had yet. 

But he suspects Christian already knows all this. 

That’s why he sent him, after all. 

Knowing he needs to get back to the garage, to Yuki and his actual job, Michael gives Christian a single, appreciative nod. Giving respect where respect is due to the only other person he trusts here to do what’s best for Daniel and not just a driver for RedBull. 

Coming up behind them, he gives Daniel a conspiratory wink as he interrupts the conversation, “Just so you know, I do happen to own a scalpel.” 

Helmut looks confused. Michael doesn’t care. Simply enjoys the sound of Daniel’s laughter, the way he dares him to whip it out right there in front of their bosses. 

Daniel is fine. 

[douglas-rain]

Top Five Douglas Rain Recommendations From Yours Truly

You want to see more of Douglas Rain, but you're not sure where to start? Well, do I have the thing for you! As the internet's most preeminent Douglas Rain expert (except for Gerry Flahive I guess, but he's kind of slow at answering emails and more focused on other stuff these days. If he wants to reclaim the title, he can meet me in the parking lot <3), I've made you a handy little list of some of my personal favourite performances by DR that I think you should see and/or hear!

And by 'little' I mean 'I got way too into this, so it's pretty long now'. I put it under a cut; you're welcome.

In the interest of fairness, I've chosen one performance from each of his fields of work (namely: ON STAGE, RADIO WORK, DOCUMENTARY NARRATION, TELEVISION and FILM). Please know, however, that I can give reviews of basically everything in the masterpost, so if you're interested in hearing about any of them, feel free to shoot me an ask!

Without further ado, let's get into it...

-

ON STAGE: Henry V (1966)

Okay, this one's teeeechnically a TV movie, but it's adapted from Stratford's staged production, so I'm counting it. It's also a rare treat in that we get to see DR in colour! (Everybody say THANK YOU to David Rain, his son, for bullying the Festival into restoring this production and adding it to their online catalogue. I owe him my life.)

This is one of Shakespeare's histories, part of the Henriad (aka the collection of plays about the accomplishments of various English kings). Henry V, the main guy in this one, is actually the crowned version of Prince Hal from both parts of Henry IV, a role that DR had played previously at Stratford, so this is a fun bit of character continuity for him! The play centres around the king's invasion of France, with a lot of ruminating on hope and despair and duty and bravery. Harry - as he is affectionately referred to on occasion - is really going through it, and DR portrays him with such emotional intensity. He's proud, he's fierce, he's clever, he's a BITCH and I like him SO MUCH.

The book has been edited down slightly to fit into a two hour runtime for television, but beyond a few... very funny jumpcuts, it's not really noticeable at all. And while the sets are kept mostly simple, the costumes are gorgeous. I went in not expecting much (a mistake I keep making when approaching Shakespeare plays, for some reason lol), and was thoroughly entertained the whole way through!

It also contains the transcendentally funny line, "Tennis balls, my liege!" because Shakespeare was the most hysterical motherfucker on planet Earth. It makes sense in context, I promise.

Can be found on Stratfest@Home, the online streaming service of the Stratford Festival (there's a 7-day free trial period if you sign up). You may also check my masterpost of performances for a possible alternative, but shhh.

-

RADIO WORK: Fifth Business (1980)

I love this one; it's literally so fucking funny. This radio play is a dramatisation of the 1970 novel of the same name by Robertson Davies. Fifth Business recounts the life story of Dunstable "Dunstan" Ramsay, from his boyhood in an idyllic (on the surface only) Canadian village to his experiences in the First World War, his career as a teacher and all the loves and complications he runs into, and the formative experiences peppering his life where he's never quite the main character. He is instead 'fifth business' - neither hero nor villain, but still integral to resolving the play's plot. Ramsay is clever, sarcastic and a goddamn weirdo who's obsessed with saints for non-religious reasons. He dodged a snowball as a kid and the consequences of that haunt him throughout the entire book.

The radio drama features a whole cast of actors, including of course DR as the protagonist (who also narrates everything btw), doing an absolutely delightful job. Fellow Stratford actress Martha Henry, who also happened to be his wife at the time, is in it too!

The entire drama is delightful, honestly. I liveblogged my experience listening to it for the first time, and man there is some wild shit happening in this novel. The entire things is about three and a half hours, but it really doesn't feel that long.

Can be found (in eight parts) on YouTube or on Archive.org. (Or in a junkbox on a sidewalk in Toronto. I'm still baffled by that.)

-

DOCUMENTARY NARRATION: Universe (1960)

A classic. Documentaries make up a sizeable chunk of the masterpost (thanks to the NFB website and archive channels on YouTube), so there were more options in this category than in any of the others. But I decided to go with this particular gem of a documentary.

It's about - who would have guessed - the universe, featuring the most advanced scientific knowledge of planets and stars at the time. The special effects are also quite impressive - if you move around Space Odyssey circles, you may have heard that the visuals of this documentary were a major inspiration for 2001. Also, DR's narration in Universe is what brought him to Stanley Kubrick's attention. You can probably guess how that ended. (Gerry Flahive has some articles about the whole thing if you don't.)

Anyway, Universe is a beautiful and meditative look at our galaxy and the many things it contains, and DR's narration is absolutely lovely. It clocks in at just under half an hour, so not that big of a time commitment either.

Can be found on YouTube or on the NFB website.

-

TELEVISION: William Lyon Mackenzie: A Friend To His Country (1961)

It's so hard to find old Canadian TV shows anywhere online and I'm forever bitter about it. Our options here are incredibly limited as a result, so you're just going to have to accept that I'm recommending you a historical short film from 1961, alright? This is as difficult for me as it is for you.

Unsurprisingly, this movie is about William Lyon Mackenzie, who was... *checks Wikipedia* "a Scottish Canadian-American journalist and politician." Yes, DR is doing a Scottish accent in this role. Yes, I adore it. I know very little about Canadian history, so I can't exactly speak to the film's accuracy, but I found it charming and DR is doing a very good job. Most of the half hour runtime is spent on Mackenzie's various political struggles (some sort of failed revolution, I gather, followed by exile in the United States and some jailtime) and him trying to protect his family. His wife is played by Canadian actress Kate Reid in this movie, which I personally find very funny for... reasons. IYKYK.

Can be found on YouTube or on the NFB website.

-

FILM: OEDIPUS REX (1957)

I'm sort of cheating again, but the only other options in this category that I have access to are the two Space Odyssey movies, and they seemed like too basic of a choice. So have some more drama instead! This is also a filmed version of one of Stratford's plays, but released in theatres this time.

Oedipus Rex is a breezy 87 minutes and adapts the English translation by Yeats of the classic Greek tragedy by Sophocles, with a little added prologue to set the scene. It was directed by Tyrone Guthrie, who you might remember as the Big Man from The Stratford Adventure. Or from the fact that he was a pretty famous theatre guy. If you need a refresher on your Greek myths: Oedipus was the guy who was prophesised to kill his father and marry his mother. He got done dirty by Freud somewhere down the line.

DR plays the role of the Messenger, a minor part who recounts some of the most famous plot points of the tragedy of Oedipus, which they couldn't show onscreen/onstage. Granted, he's only in this one for like five minutes, but he really rocks up to crash the party wearing the coolest outfit in the entire show. And yes, everyone in this production is wearing Greek theatre masks, so you can't see his face. You get to hear his voice though - and watch his captivating body language!

Can be found on YouTube. Or you can probably buy it on DVD if you really want to; idk, I'm not the boss of you. (I've also clipped his scene if you really, really don't want to watch the whole play. I get it's a big ask. Really beautiful production though, seriously!)

[thralloftimegaming]

July Game Dev Progress

Buildings

Pretty big addition was making it so you can add and remove things to NPC buildings!

I'm thinking Goblins with different Jobs will have different likes, so you can improve their happiness by putting those things in their House!

1547

Pretty chuffed I was able to reuse the existing Build code for this, just with a modified to check if a Building was being interacted with!

Also they now save too! This initially didn't work because I had no lookup data for the House Objects Build List, it was trying to use the Normal Object Build List.

1566

I thought this was going to be a total pain since the Lookup Code takes the objects name and grabs the list slot from a map and I already had those values being used for the non-house versions. BUT since it's a string I just inject and "h" beforehand in the load code, so now house and non-house objects have separate values even though the only difference is if the need a house to be placed!

Completely remade the Refund System for selling Buildings!

1567

It even works with the things placed in NPC Buildings!

Animals

I updated the sprites for Animals to be adjusted when moving on Flooring or in Water like the Goblins, but because I do some Squash and Stretching with their sprites things got messed up.

1548

Seems using draw_sprite_part or draw_sprite_general scripts resets the x/y origin point to the top left corner, so I had to adjust that manually by adding these to the x value.

var _xO = (-sprite_width/2); ///Puts us back to the middle) var _xSq = ((1-xSc)*(sprite_width/2));///Increases from 0 as we squish, keeping us centre

1551

Saw a tumblr post with a picture from SNES Harvest Moon where the character was fascinated by a mysterious Chicken Statue...

1553

So now my game has Frog and Wildboar statues. Might not always spawn animals...I'll probably just have them as decorations, but maybe I could set it up so you can donate something to them to increase that animals spawn rate?

Also lol, I forgot to disable the hat code. X'D

Items

Added a new Item, Rainmaker. The Goblins have figured out how to Cloud Seed using a modify firework!

1562

Needs some work, but the basics are set up. The first batch of rain stopped because the hour ended. I've only got weather set to start on the hour, so I need to update that!

What if...Seedbomb???

1565

They plant random seeds in valid Poil/Plant Pots, I think I'll make them weighted towards being just Flowers with Crops being rare.

Minor Fixes/Updates;

-Updated a bunch of Item sprites to look better.

-When I made Roofing require a Wall/Floor/Door to be placed it broke with Loading Save files, so added a fix for that.

-Fixed the sprite offset when spawning Beds, so they no longer look like they're being formed from parts being brought together. X'D

-Fixed Watering Can always using charged mode even when just tapping the button.

-Fixed Plant Pots not resetting properly on Plant death.

-Added Apiary and Plant Pots to the Save file so they now persist between games.

-Made Apiary and Plant Pots work CORRECTLY when culled, previously they worked inconsistently and at the wrong rate.

-Plants now continue to grow/dryout/wither when Culled as they do when not Culled.

-Fixed Not being able to plant fully grown Flowers in Plant Pots.

-Updated how Weather effects the ground, made it do more at once with a random 1/3 chance.

-Updated Parade code, breaking it into parts so there's more variety for the Goblins.

--Goblins can choose to Spin Left or Right or not at all.

--Added randomness to Spin speed and wait, changes on reset.

--Split Jumping into it's own part and added a Jump strength modifier so they don't always jump the same height!

--Split Arm action into it's own part and made arms go up when Jumping.

--Split Emote into it's own part and made it happen on Jump and arm up.

Small thing just for myself really...

Updated the way Goblin names are chosen, this is just for testing purposes, but I thought it would be nice to have the people who've supported and believed in me hanging around while I test stuff.

Thank you all so much for everything, it really means the world to me.

Please make sure you're all looking after yourselves, and keep being awesome! <3 <3 <3

Cross-posted from Patreon, please support me with as little as $1 if you can, it really helps me out a lot!

[albertasunrise]

Stuck in the Middle of it - Part 7

Masterlist

Summary: Years after breaking up, you bump into Benny Miller again one evening at a bar. He was one man you could confidently say you had loved once but you’d both agreed you were better off as friends. When he introduces you to Frankie Morales, you instantly feel connected to the man but unbeknownst to you… You’ll get thrown into a love triangle. The two men crazy about you. Only thing is… you have no idea who to choose.

Relationships: Reader x Ben Miller, Reader x Frankie Morales

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any warnings. This will be an 18+ fic

Series Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

War is hell. 

You hear it in movies. Read it in books. Nothing can prepare you for the reality of that statement. In the movies though, they make it look so much less hellish than it actually is. War is grown men crying out for their mothers as they lat there desperately trying to hold their guts in. It’s them pissing themselves in fear. Shitting their pants when their life force leaves them. 

Their reality right then was what Frank imagined hell to be like. 

Bullets seemed to rain down on them left, right and centre. Smoke, ash and fire littered the sky as Frankie tried to steer them out of the line of fire. If anyone had told him that war could be this chaotic before he’d enlisted, he would have never done it. Fear coursed throughout him as he glanced at his co-pilot who had all but lost his nerve. The man was sobbing as he fumbled with the controls but in truth, Frankie was the only one in control. It was his job to get his broths home. Even if it was the last thing he ever did. 

He barely heard the bullet pierce the glass. His partner's limp body was what alerted him to the fact that had been hit. 

“SHIT.” He yelled as he glanced at his dead comrade. 

“What's going on?” Demanded Tom but it took Fish a moment to answer “CATFISH??” 

“Mullins is down.” He answered, his voice shaking as he spoke. 

“What?” Blurted out Santi “How the-“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Next thing they all know, the was a boom and suddenly they were spiralling towards the ground but Fish being the pilot he was, managed to slow their descent. 

“Prepare for a crash landing.” He yelled over the comes, straining to keep the bird as steady as he could. 

Everyone strapped themselves in and braced themselves for what was to come. The craft was almost at ninety degrees as it plummeted toward the ashen battleground but as they edged closer, Frankie made a manoeuvre that he knew would likely spare his brother’s. But not him. 

He said a silent prayer as he watched the ground come up to greet him and then as the bird connected with the earth, they were met with the deafening sound of metal buckling and glass shattering. 

Then everything went black. 

… 

Ben blinked a few times as his head cleared. He could hear someone shouting but the ringing in his ears made it sound muffled and far away. Lifting his head, he noted his brother was calling to him from his seat in the chopper and as things cleared more, he realised it was his brother who was shouting. He then started to look around the rest of the craft and noted that Tom and Santi were also coming around, both looking a little knocked around but otherwise okay. 

The smoke hit him next and that's what pulled him back to earth with a bang. Unbuckling his restraints he, along with his brother started to urge the others out but when Ben looked into the cockpit his stomach sank. Mullins lay there, eyes open with a bullet hole to the head and Ben let out a choked sob. He had been the newest member of the team, joining a little over a month ago and he had fit in with ease. Ben then turned his head to see Catfish slumped in his seat. Blook coated one side of his face and his uniform was quickly turning black as blood seeped from the gaping wound to his belly. 

"FISH." He yelled as he clambered his way to him "Fuck." Ben choked as he took in the state his comrade was in. 

"Ben." Frankie moaned, his eyes cracking open a little. 

"I'm here Fish." Ben said gently "I'm gonna get you out brother. I promise you." 

"BEN?" Called Tom as he made his way to wear the younger Miller was gently unfastening Frank's restraints "Evac is 5 minutes out." He stated as he took in Fish's condition.

"Tell them they need to get a medical chopper ready. Contusion to the lower left quadrant and a severe head injury." Ben stated, his voice never wavering. 

"Copy that." Tom nodded before he head out to make the call. 

"Right Fish, this is gonna hurt buddy so I'm sorry." The younger man stated as placed his hands underneath the man's armpits "Okay on three... One... Two... Three." 

He pulled Frankie so his top half was towards the entrance to the cockpit, the pilot letting out a guttural scream that made Ben's blood turn to ice in his vanes. In any other situation, there would be a team of people that would be able to cut him out and get him to safety. Now though, they were in hell on earth so no such luxuries could be found. 

When Frankie was in position, Ben supported his top half with one arm as he slid his other under the pilot's legs and lifted him, ignoring the pained cries this elicited. Frank's usual golden tone skin had turned a sickly shade of white and a thin layer of sweat glittered on his brow. 

He was going into shock. 

Ben wasn't an expert on field medicine. That had been Will's area of expertise but he knew enough to know that Fish was in some deep trouble. He needed to get the pilot out and get him stabilised if the man had any chance of making it out of this. 

The blonde breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to get them out of the ruined craft and out into the hot, humid air beyond. Tom and Santi had already assembled the stretcher that had been stored in the rear of the craft and Will was prepping what he'd need to get Fish ready to move. 

Ben gently placed his brother in arms down on the stretcher before taking his hand and whispering words of comfort as Will started to assess his condition. The younger Miller looked up at his brother and noted the grim expression on his face. He was stupid. He knew that Frank's chances weren't good but he'd be damned if he didn't do everything he could to save him.

After all, he'd done exactly that for all of them. 

Ben held Frankie's hand and stroked his hair with the other as the group of them waited for the evac to arrive. They had crashed a fair distance from the active battle and for that they were grateful. They all knew that everything about how and where they crashed was deliberate. Catfish's last attempt to try and get them back safely, even if that didn't include him. 

He was selfless to a fault. 

When the transport arrived, Ben remained at his friend's side. He talked to him, held his hand and even wiped his tears as the vehicle drove them back to base as quickly as it could. 

What felt like hours passed before they were finally within the manned fences of their base. Safe at last but none of them had much time to breathe before they were all whisked off for medical attention. 

That was the last mission they ever did. 

Standing in front of the mirror, Frankie's fingers traced the silver scar on his stomach. He had been in a coma for two weeks after the crash. The glass shard had pierced his bowel and after hours of surgery, he went on to develop an infection that almost killed him. His doctors told him he'd flatlined twice whilst in his coma. Once in front of Ben when he'd come to visit. 

He'd always been grateful that the younger Miller had saved him that day. He'd been ready to die that day but Benny Miller was stubborn and there had been no way he was going to the man clock out. Through tragedy had come a friendship that he'd always thought would be unbreakable and yet everything that had transpired in the last year proved that to be wrong. 

"Frankie, you okay?" Came your voice from the other side of the door, a soft knock echoing through the room. 

"Yeah, I'll be out in a moment." He replied as he grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. 

You were pouring coffee into two mugs when he emerged into the kitchen. Autumn was strapped to your chest as you floated around the kitchen with ease. You had taken to motherhood like a fish to water. It suited you and you revelled in it. 

Autumn had proved to be the ideal first child. She hardly cried except to let you know she was hungry and already at two weeks she was sleeping most of the night. He smiled as he watched you pour creamer into both mugs as you hummed along to the radio, bouncing a little as you went. 

His heart swelled as he watched you place a soft kiss on the crown of Autumn's head and he ached to hold you. 

"Morning." The new voice made Frankie jump back as if caught doing something he shouldn't "There are my two favourite ladies." 

Ben gave you a sweet kiss before leaning down to peck Autumn's cheek and Frank felt a surge of jealousy run through him. It should be him in that picture. 

“How you feelin’ this morning Fishsticks?” Asked Ben, pulling the older man out of his thoughts. 

“Little stronger.” Frankie replied, giving the man a weak smile before his gaze drifted to you. 

He frowned at the expression he saw but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared and then you were unstrapping the baby. 

“You want to take her for a while?” You asked and he nodded, taking her eagerly from your arms. 

“Morning princessa.” He cooed as she looked up at him with her big eyes. 

“Papiiiii.” Screeched Isla as she waddled into the room “Look what I drew.” She exclaimed as she waved some paper above her head with one hand and clung a crayon in the other. 

Frank crouched so he could look, gasping as he studied it a moment “Wow, mi corazónc. Esto es increíble.” (Wow, my heart. This is amazing.) 

 “Gracias, Papi.” She replied bashfully and Frankie smiled. 

“I was thinking we could take the girls to the aquarium today.” You stated, grabbing Frank’s attention “Ben’s got to work today so I thought it would be nice for us to do something as a family… You know, if you want to and you’re feeling up to it or whatever.” 

“Sounds great.” Frankie replied, smiling sweetly at your nervousness. 

“Great, well… I will see you later.” Said Ben as he pulled you in for a kiss “Have fun.” He finished before pulling away. Giving Frankie’s arm a friendly pat and affectionately pinching the apple of Autumn’s cheek. 

An awkward silence settled over the kitchen then as Ben left. Frank had been staying with you and Ben since leaving the hospital a week ago. He wasn’t sure how things had ended up this way. The day he’d woken up, you’d kissed him. Gave him hope that perhaps you wanted to try again. 

You were sitting at Frankie's bedside, nursing Autumn when the man stirred again. For the past few days, this was how you'd spent your time. Frank was in and out of it but the doctors had told you that he would be for a while, It was hard work waking up. Each time he was conscious though, he seemed to be a little more with it. His eyes shone for Autumn every chance he got a chance to hold her. 

Isla had been brought every day also. Sitting with her dad on the bed and telling him about her day with Uncle Will or at playschool. He'd then talk to you for hours about anything and everything but the one thing that wasn't broached... The kiss. 

You'd not really seen or spoken to Ben the last few days. Whether he was avoiding you or you just kept missing each other you didn't know. What you did know was that your guilt was eating you alive. His expression when he told you he'd seen you kiss Frankie had haunted your dreams. Played on repeat every moment you weren't distracted by your baby. 

Frankie was looking at you differently too. His expression was warm and welcoming every time he saw you. He talked about all the things he wanted to do as a family. Day trips, vacations, all of them including you and excluding Ben. 

You wanted the decision to be made for you. You hated how hard it was to choose between the two of them. Because, despite what he did, you loved Ben and he had proved a hundred times over that he loved you too. 

But you loved Frankie also. 

When you'd learned that it had been because of Ben that he'd broken your heart, all the anger you held towards him died away. You felt nothing but love and admiration for him and the fact you two shared a child together just made those feelings all the more intense. 

But you had just spent the better part of a year with Ben. Building a life with him, a home. Were you willing to lose that to try and be a family with Frankie? What if it didn't work out? You'd end up alone. Just you and Autumn. The idea hurt. 

This decision was going to mean you lost one of them anyway. You just couldn't bear the idea of being without either of them. 

You smiled as you watched Autumn gaze up at the fish in Amazement. Her eyes were the size of planets as she watched the sharks swim overhead as you walked through the tunnel and when she watched the jellyfish as they glowed and danced in their tanks. 

Isla had your hand and dragged you to each of the exhibits she wanted to see, demanding you pick her up when she couldn't see. 

"Mummy look." Said Isla as she pointed at a sea turtle that swam overhead, seemingly unaware of what she'd just called you. 

You and Frankie however were frozen to the spot. A small smile crossed his lips as he watched his daughter tug on your sleeve, pointing at another of the magnificent creatures as it swam over them. His eyes then drifted to you and his stomach dropped. He was at your side in a heartbeat, cupping your cheek in an attempt to get you to look at him.

"Hermosa I'm sorry." He said in a panicky tone, his heart in his throat "She's just a toddler, she doesn't know what she's saying." 

"Mummy?" Isla pipped up, her little face scrunching in concern "Why are you crying?" 

You choked on a sob before you picked the toddler up and pulled her close, smiling when she placed a kiss on your cheek. 

"I'm not sad sweety." You assured her "Why are you calling me mummy sweetheart?" You ask and she gives you a look as if it was obvious. 

"You and daddy made Autumn together." She stated matter of factly "She's my sister which makes you my mummy." 

'Sweetheart it-" 

"If you want me to be your mummy then I would be honoured." You piped up, cutting Frankie off in his tracks. 

"I do." She said, nodding with surety and you smiled sweetly at her. 

"Okay." You whispered. 

The four of you then resumed your trip. Frankie watched you closely as you walked hand in hand with his oldest. Truth be told, he'd hoped that Isla would look at you as a mother one day but that had been when you were together and he could picture your future together. 

Now he wasn't so sure how that future would look. Would you let him have Autumn for more than just the weekends? Would the two of you be parents that got on or would you grow to despise him? 

"Penny for your thoughts?" You piped up, pulling Frankie from his own head "You were miles away there." You chuckled and he gave you a small smile as he shook his head. 

"Sorry I was just... Stuck in my thoughts I guess." 

"About?" 

"Us." He confessed honestly "How all this is going to work." 

"I know what you mean." You replied, your head dropping and suddenly your shoes were the most interesting thing in the room.

"We'll make it work." He piped up, leading the way to the gift shop where Isla was already busy picking out what stuffed fish she wanted. 

After paying silly money for a stuffed turtle of Isla and a plush octopus for Autumn, you all decided to stop for a coffee before you headed back. Frank say with Autumn on his lap as he sipped at his coffee and you beside Isla as she babbled away in her highchair. 

"Why did you kiss me?" Frankie said suddenly and you startled at it. 

"What?" 

"In the hospital, the day I woke up, you kissed me." He stated, his eyes drifting to you and you shrunk in your seat under his gaze "You gave me hope that maybe we'd get to be a proper family and then you stay with Ben. 

"Frankie I-" 

"I know he told you to choose." He interrupted, eyes now fixed on Autumn "I love you. We have a baby together. Don't you think it's worth trying to see if we'd work?" 

"Frank, this isn't really the best time to talk about-" 

"So when is?" He pushed "When Ben's there to hog your attention and cloud your judgement?" 

You were shocked at his bold statement but you knew there was an air of truth to it. You had gone four days before Ben had reappeared all sweetness and kissed and you'd allowed yourself to fall back into that familiar feeling. 

"I can't keep sitting there, watching him play house with my family." He stated plainly and you nodded "So I want you to make a decision." 

"Frankie." You pleaded but he shook his head. 

"I love you. When we were together, I started to picture our future together. We'd get married, have a few kids, and have a dog. Take trips together. I still want all of that with you but I'm not going to wait for you forever." 

"What if we don't work?" You asked, your voice shaking "We might crash and burn and then what?" 

"We might not." Frankie stated plainly "And I'm inclined to believe that we won't... Because I can and want to give you everything you've ever dreamt of but I'm not sure Ben truly does."

"But he said he's all in." 

"But what does that mean?" He asked and you were left without a retort. 

Because he was right... What did that mean? 

Next

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[waterlilylullabies]

𝓑𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓼: 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮

Nobody’s Child

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence against women.

The Waking World

The woman Belle called Mother taught her two things. The first: you can make almost any meal go further if you add some lentils. The second: you don’t belong to anyone.

Belle remembers; the gentle chafe of hardwood on her bare feet, the early morning cool of the cabin, the woman’s hands braiding her hair, cigarette smoke, heavy sighs. The woman left one day, didn’t come back. They arrested a man in the nearby village but Belle never found out what happened next. By then, the cabin in the woods and the woman called Mother were already fading like dreams in daylight and Belle was adopted by an elderly couple longing for a child of their own.

Mimi and Chester were gentle and sweet. Mimi, a former ballerina, taught her to dance, Chester taught her to douse for water. The trio lived in perfect harmony for fifteen years. Until the old couple passed away one autumn, Mimi went first and Chester followed. Quiet, uncomplicated deaths, like flowers after the first frost.

And Belle remembered that she didn’t belong to anyone.

She packed her bags and started moving. She marvelled at the distance she could put between herself and the past. She worked odd jobs, slept in parks, slept in grand hotel rooms, slept beside strangers. She realised she had a knack for languages and where that failed her she discovered a proclivity for flirting.

Years passed.

Even if the body is strong and the mind is quick, sooner or later the soul will dig its heels in and say; I want to rest, I want to sleep in the same bed, see the same faces. The soul begs for boredom even as it cries out for wonder. So Belle gave in, came to rest in a nothing place. She would spend the Winter there and then she would be gone.

It is perhaps unfair to call the town a ‘nothing’ place. Everywhere is somewhere after all, though Pleasance (that was the town’s name) subscribed to this notion only tentatively. That was partly why Belle decided to stay there, she believed that a spell in Pleasance would cure her eternally of the need to put down roots.

There was one feature of interest in Pleasance and that was the local dive bar, The Venus Lounge. The name was preposterous, given its general state of disrepair and the fact that it sat between a disused canning factory and a woman’s clothing store long since closed. It was a garish little place and the rumour among the great and the good of the town was that there was nothing the girls who worked there wouldn’t do for a price.

Belle took a job there faster than you can say ‘damnation’.

The Dreaming

Dream of the Endless is wracked with guilt. He summons his librarian.

The sky is slate grey, a thunderstorm seems imminent. Lucienne makes her way to the throne room as swiftly as she can.

The Dream King stands in the centre of the hall, gazing half heartedly at the constellations above when she arrives. He looks awful, weary, woe-begotten.

“My Lord? How can I?-“

The King of Nightmares has no time for pleasantries today. “Lucienne I have caused great suffering.”

Lucienne is momentarily torn between agreeing with him and asking which particular suffering he is referring to, but elects to keep her mouth shut.

“I made a promise” he intones “over two thousand years ago, to a Siren. I swore an oath of protection, which my imprisonment prevented me from keeping, now I fear the world will suffer for it.”

Lucienne lowers her head “Ah, I see.” Lucienne knows something of the story, a promise made in a cave, a child to be entrusted to the King of Dreams. That much she gleaned from a dog-eared scroll in the library. The rest she learned from the child’s mother.

Lord Morpheus has wandered to the foot of the steps leading to his throne, outside a gentle patter of rain has begun to fall. “My Lord, during your imprisonment a creature came to the dreaming, she had with her a baby girl” He whips around, eyes wild. Lucienne steadies herself under the weight of his gaze “The crea- the woman called herself Thalia and she came with the express purpose of delivering the child, her daughter to you, but” Lucienne braces herself for the inevitable storm

“But?”

She heaves in a breath “When she saw the realm, as it was then, abandoned, she felt her daughter would be no safer here than in the Waking World.”

There is a moment of perfect silence. Then the heavens open, thunder shakes the foundations of the palace and lightning slashes the sky to shreds. “My Lord” he is not listening, “My Lord!” Lucienne raises her voice over the rising storm “There is every possibility the child is still alive!”

There is a loud crack of thunder. “The Waking World deals cruelly with her kind” he retorts, but his eyes give him away, he is desperate enough to hope.

“Only if she has used her powers My Lord.”

Another thunder bolt illuminates the throne room. “But a child, Lucienne” he whispers. ”A child will not know better.” Lucienne, whose patience never falters, clears her throat “Not a child, my Lord, that is, she would be nearly twenty five by now.”

This had not occurred to the King of Dreams, who for all his power, has never truly understood the passage of time outside his realm.

“There is a chance my Lord, that she is alive and well. All is not lost.”

Authors note: Very new to this, any and all feedback welcome! Thank you for reading!

[legolasbadass]

Office Hours, Part 24

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague…

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 1.8k

Rating: T

Read on AO3

The next morning, the sun finally decides to visit Oxford. After weeks of rain and grey skies, the whole city comes alive again, and Richard and I decide to make the most of it by walking to the city centre and going out for breakfast. 

After our conversation in the kitchen last night, Richard and I made love, slowly and tenderly, and each kiss, each caress, was a reassurance of his love, healing all the cracks in my heart that had been left by past lovers. We moaned each other’s names as we came, and it felt like a promise. A promise that all the passion burning inside him was reserved for me and that our love would never waver. And as we walk hand in hand past the city’s most recognizable sites, I feel that he genuinely understands me now, and the peace and comfort that come with that are pure bliss. 

We step inside a small café facing the fenced gardens of the Oxford Union Society on St Michael’s Street. The bicycle parking rack in front of the café is overflowing, and inside, almost every table is taken by stressed-out students, their eyes glued to their laptops or heavy textbooks. Yet, despite the palpable buzz of approaching finals, the atmosphere in the café is warm and comforting. Wooden ceiling beams meet the poster-covered whitewashed walls under the bright light of the morning sun as the smell of roasted coffee beans and pastries fill the air. After ordering food and coffee, Richard and I find a spot crammed into a sunny corner by the large windows overlooking the street. Our oversized mugs clink against the dark mahogany of the table, which is so small our knees touch underneath as we sit. 

Richard tells me that he regularly frequented this café when he first moved to the city as he used to live only a few streets away, near Pembroke College. He reminisces over those years until our food arrives, and a companionable silence settles between us. Fried eggs, baked beans, and toast are a perfect treat after a long walk.

“Hm, it’s eggcellent,” Richard jokes, then immediately starts laughing as I chuckle and shake my head. He always laughs at his own—often terrible—puns, and I find that incredibly endearing. 

“You dork,” I reply playfully as I take another sip of coffee. 

“Hey, you always laugh at my jokes.” 

“Maybe I’m laughing at you?” I tease. 

His smile broadens. “Well, you’re still laughing. That’s what counts.” 

I smile back at him as he squeezes my thigh under the table. “Hey—any news about your potential project with Dr. Stanley Griffin?” I ask curiously. 

He hesitates before he says, “Er, no—not really.” 

I nod slowly; his tone is strange, as though he is trying to avoid the subject. Then, without another word, he reaches out to look at his phone. I frown—he has repeatedly been checking his phone since last night.  

“You keep checking your phone—what is it?” I ask, hoping I do not sound too much like an insecure, controlling girlfriend.

“I’m not checking my phone more than usual, love,” Richard says dismissively, which only makes me more suspicious. I suddenly have the strange feeling that he is hiding something from me—but why would he, when we share everything with each other? Still, it could be nothing. Perhaps he is simply waiting to hear back from some journal to which he submitted a paper, or he is expecting a response from some society or university concerning a conference. That must be it. 

But then why does he not simply tell me?

“I’m gonna get some more coffee. Do you want anything?” he asks, pulling me out of my spiralling thoughts. 

“Er, no I’m good. Thanks,” I reply with a smile. I watch him as he stands and leaves toward the counter, my eyes drifting to his solid thighs and the firmness of his bum in those dark jeans before drifting back to his handsome face just as he scratches his beard with one of his large hands. 

I know I have nothing to worry about with Richard. He is the most caring, thoughtful, and loyal partner I have ever had. But that only makes me even more curious—or worried—about what he could be keeping from me. Of course, I could insist he tell me, but it does not feel right to press him when he has always been so patient with me. 

“We seem to be running into each other a lot.” 

Of all the cafés in Oxford. 

Jason wears a beige trench coat, unbuttoned to reveal a burgundy cashmere sweater and the collar of a white button-up shirt underneath. He smirks at me before sliding into the empty seat in front of me. Richard’s seat. His knees come into contact with mine, and I immediately push my chair back. 

All I can think to say is a cliché, “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Me neither!” he exclaims. “I’m glad—we didn’t really get a chance to talk yesterday, what with your boyfriend being there.”

I feel like one of those dumb horror movie heroines, convinced they have outrun the monster only to come face to face with it again. 

“What are you doing here, Jason?” I ask, glancing toward Richard, but he has his back to us. 

Jason chuckles. “I’m getting coffee?” 

“You know what I mean,” I retort with a sigh. “What are you doing in Oxford? And don’t tell me you’re here for the conference—we both know medieval literature isn’t your research area at all.” 

“Alright, look—I found out you were organizing this conference, and I thought….” He shrugs. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.” 

“There’s a reason for that.” 

He shakes his head. “Oh, come now, Lor—that was ages ago. And I said I was sorry—”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t change anything,” I bite back, failing to hide the ache in my voice as the memories and pain of years past clog my throat. “And you also blamed me for sleeping with her so you’re apology doesn’t mean much.”

Jason opens his mouth to retort, but before he can say anything, Richard returns, his face hiding none of the hatred he feels for Jason. “You’re in my seat.” 

Jason leans back in the chair and looks up at Richard defiantly. “Oh, sorry—I’ll get another chair.” 

“Sorry, mate, I guess I didn’t make myself clear,” he says as he places his coffee on the table, now towering over Jason. “Get away from her.” 

Heat crawls up my neck as I notice the people in the café glancing at us. 

“What’s your problem?” 

“You know very well what my problem is,” Richard retorts with raised eyebrows. “Maybe no one has ever taught you how to treat a woman, but I don’t think you need a degree to understand that cheating on your girlfriend makes you an arsehole.” 

Jason chuckles and shakes his head as he stands. “I made a mistake, alright? But that doesn’t erase all the good memories we shared before that.” He is looking at me now, his eyes filled with an odd mixture of anger and regret. 

“No, but it changes them,” I say quietly, all too aware of the curious eyes watching us. “I think you should just go—I have nothing to say to you.” 

“So you’re just going to be angry at me for the rest of your life?” 

I sigh, my heart tightening in my chest, but Richard steps in before I can speak. 

“Don’t you dare make her think her feelings aren’t valid. What you did to her is unforgivable,” Richard growls. “And she’s made herself perfectly clear. So get out.” 

I stare at my empty coffee mug to avoid Jason’s eyes—and Richard’s—as they both stare at me. My stomach is in knots. When Jason finally leaves, Richard takes back the seat before me and reaches out to squeeze my hand. 

“Lorelei?”

I lift my head to meet his gaze, and I find myself feeling both comforted and annoyed by the deep concern in his eyes. 

“Let’s just go,” I say as I run a hand through my hair. 

I do not wait for Richard before putting on my coat and stepping outside. The sun is higher in the sky, and thus the shadows in the narrow street are longer. A cyclist wooshes past me on the road holding onto the handle of his bicycle with only one hand while he holds a stack of books in the other; this is the kind of little moment that makes me fall in love with Oxford every day, and as I watch him disappear around the corner, I remind myself that the day is not ruined simply because Jason interrupted our breakfast. 

Richard announces his presence by pressing a hand onto my back, and when I turn around to face him, his eyes are clouded in worry.

“I didn’t need you to defend me like that. I’m not a damsel in distress,” I begin uncertainly, adjusting my tote bag over my shoulder.

“I know you’re not,” Richard hastens to say, a deep frown on his face. “I’m sorry, love—I didn’t mean to—” 

“Don’t apologize,” I interject, reaching out to wrap my arms around him. “I was just going to say that I don’t need you to defend me … but I still appreciate it. I don’t think I need to tell you that Jason wasn’t exactly chivalrous.” 

“Calling him an arsehole wasn’t chivalrous,” Richard replies as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, “it was simply stating the obvious.” 

“Well, either way, thank you,” I chuckle before standing on my tiptoes to kiss him. 

When we pull apart a few moments later, Richard keeps one arm wrapped tight around my waist. “So, do you want to go home?” 

I shake my head, though I appreciate his consideration. “I won’t let him ruin my day. It’s warm, the sun is out, and I’d like to spend some time just walking around the city with you.” 

Richard smiles. “Your wish is my command,” he says playfully. “Oh—I got you a surprise.” 

Raising a curious eyebrow, I take the small paper bag he hands me and peek inside. Then I gasp. “A blueberry danish pastry!” I exclaim in excitement. “You’re the best!” 

Without wasting a second, I raise the pastry to my mouth and take a big bite, marvelling at the flaky dough and the sweet blueberry filling. 

“Hey, I have a pun for you,” I say as I lick my lips. “What did Grendel have for breakfast?” I wait a few seconds, then smile and wave the pastry. “A Danish!”

Richard bursts out laughing and shakes his head. “Now who’s the dork?” I stick out my tongue at him. “I love you, nerd.” 

I smile as he pulls me into his arms. “I love you, too.” 

The sun feels brighter and warmer as we make our way toward Broad Street, and Jason is but a distant memory as Richard’s hand lovingly holds onto mine, never letting go.

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[mikimeiko]

Day 3 - Ljubljana>Rijeka

Had a minor heart attack on my way to the station when I thought I forgotten at the hotel/lost my id but luckily I had just misplaced it so all is well.

The train is very pretty (I love the cyan/teal-ish blue of Slovenian railways) and it has compartments! (Is this the right word? I have no idea, but Google says it is the translation of scompartimenti so...)

I haven't traveled in a train with compartments in years, the seats are very spacious and comfy <3 also the train is not very busy and I got a 6 seats compartment all to myself :D

The weather is looking promising when I leave Ljubljana but gets greyer and greyer along the way. It's still a very pretty journey though.

(that's a picture of the sea. If you squint and look at the lightest part of the image you can kind of guess a reflection of the cloud in the water XD)

I love that many of the station we're passing through have a steam locomotive on the premise (this is actually something I also noticed in Italy this summer and I have to say I love this trend, put those locomotives on display!)

They checked my id twice on the train, once in the last station in Slovenia and once in the first in Croatia (now that I think about it this also happened when I was travelling in the other direction five years ago, the only border crossing where they checked our passports twice instead of just once - at least I think it was this one, I might be wrong).

I did not get the best start in Rijeka. My hotel never answered my question about leaving luggage early, so I decided to go grab a coffee and then maybe lunch waiting for check in time. Only the currency here is kuna and every ATM I check seems out of order? D: then it starts raining and for a bit everything seems very bleak. But then of course I did find an ATM, and a way to change the big bills the ATM gave me, and a nice coffee place where I can finally have a coffee and relax a bit (I've been in Rijeka for more than an hour. As I said, not the best start) (later I found out that the problem with the ATMs is that Croatia is actually switching to the euro on January 1st... Good job Maddalena for choosing the actual worst time for coming here XD)

Also I really wish I was one of those people that are not particularly affected by the weather, but I am! All this grey and white and fog and rain is really bumming me out. I can see that Rijeka is a pretty place, I can, but I can't feel it right now. Let's hope the sky will open up just a tiny bit, just to see some sun!

I ate lunch sitting outside because they didn't have seats inside and the temperature seemed bearable but I don't know if it got colder or if it was just sitting/digestion but by the end of the meal I was freezing XD

My new room is quite cute, it also has a small kitchen inside! But it's pretty cold D: luckily there a kettle in the hall and I can make tea! (also it's not that cold, I was just really frozen from lunch)

I take a walk along the harbour around sunset. The light is quite magical, but the sky is so cloudy you cannot really tell it's sunset XD

I also go back to the centre and especially the old town, but it keeps raining, then stopping, then raining... And every bench is wet, and it's stupidly warm, and my feet hurt because the two pair of shoes I brought with me (my two pairs of very warm shoes) are not the comfiest, and also I got my period today and I keep trying to make it work, to turn this feeling around, but maybe tonight is just not the right night.*

So I grab some yummy looking things at the supermarket, plus a tea I never tried before, and head back to my room.

**I wasn't sure about adding this part, I never am. On one hand this is like... personal and maybe not that interesting for others. On the other, I distinctly remember the relief I felt on my first solo trip when, after days of rollercoasting from sheer delight to abject bleakness, another traveller told me "these past days, before my friends got here, were really hard on me, I was crying at least once a day". That moment of "oh, this is normal, this doesn't mean that I'm not meant to be doing this, I can cry and then keep going anyway if I like it enough!". And so I'd rather share the hard parts too, just in case someone reads this before they try it or while they're doing it.

[inusdibyvdwyiwdkbhwv]

CAPTIVATED BY YOU

Chapter 1 ( It always starts with his stupidity )

Y/N's POV

WHY , WHY , WHY

Why did it happened to us , I would have been baking for him or may be we could have been in some thrift shop buying him or me some clothes , we could have been in TDL or at the very least at our home at Sendai .

WHY , WHY , WHY

Why did things turned out like this , just 2 weeks ago we were in our normal life , him being a stupid ediot goofing around in him occult club , me doing jobs and joining competitions to pay rent , hospital bills

WHY , WHY , WHY

Life wasn't easy , i am an optimistic ediot like him ,

I was a fool

For thinking that eventually life is going to better , that fate is going to show some mercy , that things are going to change but as I said I was a fool things changed for the worst . Our life was never good , it always had red flags in it , it was like we were in the southern India Ocean where tides were so strong that we could do nothing but struggle for merry survival , those tides eventually stopped but I never had thought that what I thought was a good start of a new life was actually the calmness before the storm .

We two were all alone after gramps was admitted in hospital but we had each other's back , I had him and he had me . We were happy even with nothing because we had each other . Our parents died in an accident when we were young I still have a vivid memory of my mother, a memory of my father my older brother sure resembled him . Him and gramos never made me feel that i didn't had a father or a mother . But both of them aren't here with me anymore .

WHY , WHY, WHY

In just 2 weeks our lives had changed this much but what happened today , I was not ready for it , if he didn't ate that stupid thousand year old finger we still would have been at home and he would still have been alive running and goofing around with me . But here am I standing infront of his dead body . The dead body of my older twin , my best friend , my only relative .

I always tried to convince myself that life would be better one day but here am I .

3rd person POV

Y/N ...... it was all fushiguro megumi could say it was hard for even him too process what had happened in the last hour , he had no clue to console the girl with pink streaks afterall his emotions were in control too . He opened his mouth once again but was cutted off by the girl's screams .

"Itadori Yuji you ediot you big big ediot why are you like that . How dare you break our promise and leave me alone , didn't you said that you are going to bake me a cake once in your life you said that you wanted to go and eat out in the world once we have enough money , you said that we are going to live in a good house someday you promised me , so why why why are you sleeping infront of me . Get up you ediot it's raining . I swear am not going to take care of you if you fall sick now get up you nit wit . Let's go back to the dorms . "

" Y/N he is--"

"Shut up Fushiguro kun and Yuji ni please get up you will fall sick . Please get up . Please, please, please."

Fushiguro megumi could do nothing much but he raised his head , he took a few steps towards the girl placing a hand on her shoulder trying to find his voice and words

" Y/N , I am sorry I really am sorry to say this but ...... He is ....... dead . He wouldn't want you to be like this I know you are in denial but it's the reality that he is dead . I know it's tough but please get yourself together . Am going to call the school . "

Megumi's POV

I went away to call gojo sensei to report what had happened.

Taking out my phone I dialled his number I knew it if I gave him the initiative to speak he would piss me off with his stupidity so , I came straight to the point as soon as he picked up

" We were on a mission at the detention centre , a special grade and ............ Itadori is dead . Please come here as soon as possible , Ichiji san had just took Nobara back to school as she was injured and Y/N is not stable. " I stated in one firm breath . Gojo sensei said that he would be here in 15 minutes

As soon as I hung up Y/N's voice caught my attention , she was looking at the dark sky then , she looked at me and said with her sad voice

" Did you know that he is 2 minutes older than me " stating it she unexpectedly smiled the last thing she could have done in this situation she looked away as if she was admiring the scenery of the sky before turning back to me and once again she opened her mouth and said " It always starts with his stupidity. "

Thud

Stating those two lines she fainted and laid beside her brother I ran towards her to check her pulse and injuries . She was cold , she had bruises and cuts .

Woosh

Feeling a strong gush and strong presence just behind me I saw the person I called for .

"Are you ok ? " Gojo sensei asked me. I hummed in response he then asked about Y/N . I told him that she just fainted as she was quite injured and overwhelmed by the events in the last hour. I picked her up from the floor while Gojo sensei picked up her brother .

We went back to jujutsu high, in the infirmary where it was finally calm for us .

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

1 JULY SATURDAY MORNING 2:40 AM 2023

Ok so am extremely sorry for posting 4 days late from the promised date . I was quite depressed (family issues). I was feeling low and that made me question myself and I thought that it's going to be ok like there is nobody there to read your stories but I forgot being true to myself and I realised it today as I saw one response on the synopsis of the story it gave me motivation and realisation of what I am and I promise that am going ti be true ti myself.

So hereby I promise to post on every Sunday a new chapter .

[theretirementstory]

Not long now until the BIG day…… I think I am starting to get excited 😜, now that really is a big surprise to me.

It’s been a busy week, it was the last two sessions of radiotherapy and I had my final consultation with the radiotherapy doctor. I said I was going to gradually re-introduce “forbidden” foods and did I……… well I had been dreaming of chicken fajitas and I had those on Wednesday so I guess not 😂.

The weather hasn’t been too good, lots of rain and mist with a smattering of sunshine thrown in. I never heard back from the roofer so I guess I will just have to be patient and wait for the dry weather to arrive when he will come and fix the problem.

I encountered a problem with my Orange TV Box, I was ready to watch the third episode of “Vera” on Sunday evening, however when it came on it didn’t switch to English language as usual. I rang Orange on Monday to try to get it sorted and at one point I thought we had solved it but no. The lady rang me back on Tuesday and we agreed there must be a problem with the box. I was told to take the box back to an Orange shop. Now we don’t have one in town and the nearest is 100 km round trip 🙄 anyway I went on Wednesday in the pouring rain. It’s years since I had been in the centre of Chaumont and I was surprised by the number of shops that were there. I got the new box and in the afternoon decided to set it up. Imagine my surprise when, set up, I had no sound or vision. I made a call again to Orange and after speaking to a man twice (without the problem being solved) I rang again and got a lady who did a lot of tests at her end and got it all sorted, even the problem with getting programmes in the original version. How pleased I am but very sad that I missed Vera in English.

Pauline and I decided to go to the cinema on Thursday night, to see Napoleon. The start time was 8:15 and it ran for 2.5 hours so I was going to have a really late night. We both enjoyed it very much and after picking up the flyer decided there was another film we would like to see. “La Tresse” (The Braid) so we are going on Monday evening, start time that night is 9pm!

I went to the cinema again on Friday evening (alone) the flyer said the movie was on at 18:30 and ran for 1h 27m so I would be home after 8pm. The film was in original version and looking at the actors I should have realised not in English, it was in Japanese 😂😂 with French subtitles. I stayed because the title was “Perfect Days” and the soundtrack included Perfect Day by Lou Reed with the talented Mick Ronson on piano, songs by The Animals (can you guess which song?) and Nina Simone to name but a few. I sang along (not loudly) but obviously loud enough that the lady two rows in front said to me at the end “English songs, for you to sing”. I wasn’t too concerned about being heard, there were only 4 of us watching the movie. Any thoughts of getting home just after 8pm were dashed as I checked my watch at 8:15 and the film was still in “full flow”. It was 9pm when I finally got home so it was straight to bed for me!

This week “The Ex-Graduate” has been unwell and couldn’t go into work for two days. It sounds as if she had ‘flu symptoms. On Friday she had an interview for a “real” job in her chosen profession. She messaged to say the interview was rotten, she was so nervous and didn’t know what she had rambled on about. Then later messaged to say she had been offered the job! Wow, good on you girl. I was so excited I couldn’t type my congratulations so rang her instead. How wonderful 🥳🥳.

“The Trainee Solicitor” has had another busy week and also a busy weekend. He is catching up with pals before Xmas, was at his work Christmas “do” last night and has usual weekend activities like good shopping to get sorted 😳.

The person formerly known as “The Daddy” now to be known as “The Photographer” due to his activities at Scarborough Athletic FC and also advertisements for clothes firms, restaurants etc. He also has had a busy weekend, my gorgeous grandchildren are with him and it was a Saturday off work so it meant he spent longer with the children. He went to his work Christmas “do” last night but reckoned on being home by 9pm (even with an hours drive). Blimey, not the work Christmas do I remember, where it involved all night, quite a few beverages and good food. Apparently the children are now being taken to the cinema to see a recorded panto. Funnily enough, I was looking at my legs this morning and remembering back to when I played the Prince in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs wearing my principle boy outfit, exposing a lot of leg, I think I have those shapely legs back again (my thoughts entirely) 😂😂.

Anie came to see me on Wednesday evening bearing Christmas gifts. She was thrilled with the Christmas cactus and when I handed over two other presents she exclaimed it was too much. How much is too much I ask myself, she has been an absolute wonder while I have been ill as have lots of other friends. She was leaving to stay with her son on Thursday, he would then take her to CDG airport for her flight on Friday. So she will be there now, with her family and granddaughter, Blanche.

Monique didn’t get to see me this week either as she had to go to physio for her sciatica. She is going to come down on Monday afternoon, I just hope her plant is ok and will last through Christmas and New Year.

I have just had a message from a lady who attended the knitting group before Covid. She has extended an open invitation to me, to visit her at home. How very kind. I guess I will be stuffing dates, making mince pies and peppermint creams to take with me.

I can’t see there being much knitting done between now and Christmas Day.

I took a watch to the jewellers in town yesterday for a new battery. While I was there I spotted a rather beautiful ruby necklace. Now my grandmother’s engagement ring has a beautiful red stone in and I am going to take the ring to see how close the colour is to the stone on the necklace and I may well buy the necklace. It has been made by the jeweller so I reckon it will be a “one off”. Of course I will have to try the necklace to make sure it has a long enough chain etc but with all the weight I have lost this year I think my neck size has reduced too.

Now to the music part of the blog, I thought a quick look at the Christmas number 1’s in the UK might be a good place to look but goodness me, I couldn’t really pick a good one out of them. So instead let me pick two songs from an artist who’s music I have loved since the sixties. The first is from 1970 and the second from 1976 the songs are by Diana Ross and the first is “Reach out and Touch” and the second is “Love Hangover” as I have said previously it’s not just the lyrics but the music that appeals to me on a lot of my choice of records.

The photos this week were taken in Chaumont (in the pouring rain).

[forabeatofadrum]

Ljubim te (8/24)

Notes: Ho ho ho merry bathtub eve to the ones who celebrate! We’ve once again reached the end of the Advent. Well, the event. I am far from done. I have 2/3rd of the story to go and it will happen!

I am just once again so grateful for the Advent. I always look forward to it, because I am just pleased that this fandom still holds this annual event, even when the show’s been gone for over 7 years by now.

Thank you mods of @klaineadvent for hosting and thank you @todaydreambelieversfic, @klaineccfanficlibrary and @the-lima-bean for reblogging people’s works. Now, let’s read about Kurt having A Moment.

AO3 | S&C  

– 

Classes start and life in Ljubljana passes quickly. Kurt falls into a routine in his new life here. During the week he studies hard and eats a lot of Boni with his roommates or new people he’s met at university. In the weekends he takes time to explore the city and the entire country, if possible. Or even other countries.

Sunil and Kurt join a trip to Zagreb, in Croatia, for international students. Blaine is envious when Kurt sends him many photo’s. Blaine also starts his work. Kurt doesn’t really understand what Blaine is doing, but Blaine doesn’t mind.

Blaine’s also met a new person at the company named Tadeja, who acts as a Slovenian guide. Kurt, Blaine, Sunil and Tadeja often have dinner in the city centre, and Kurt’s happy with the fact that things are slowly falling into place.

March rolls around and the weather is getting a little bit nicer.

He also finally takes Blaine to the burger place, which has a lot of tables outside in an alley. When Kurt first visited Burger Time, he had to sit inside, which was also fun, but sitting on these wooden benches under arched roof adds something to the experience.

“I am once again so jealous about your Boni,” Blaine says when the food’s been served.

“My life will never be the same once I return to New York,” Kurt laments, “My friends back home are also jealous.”

“So is Quinn,” Blaine says and Kurt nods. Apparently Blaine talks a lot about Kurt to Quinn. Kurt finds it flattering that Blaine speaks a lot about Kurt to his girlfriend. According to Blaine, Quinn can’t wait to meet Kurt in April.

“How’s the job?” Kurt asks before taking a huge bite from this burger. It’s almost the perfect burger. The perfect burger can be found at this grill, but that grill doesn’t offer Boni.

Blaine shrugs.

“It’s a job.”

That doesn’t sound too optimistic. Kurt motions to Blaine to continue.

“It’s more like a vanity project,” Blaine explains. Kurt raises an eyebrow, so he continues. “Like I said, I am there to oversee stuff, shake people’s hands and sign forms. But it’s become clear that my dad is still the one in charge. I’m just there to look good.”

“… And is that a bad thing?” Blaine does look good, after all.

“I just hoped for more trust from the higher-ups, aka my father, but I suppose that I am still too new for this,” Blaine answers, “In his eyes. I graduated with honours, but alas, so I am a bit disappointed.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Ah well,” Blaine says and he gives Kurt a small smile, “It’s not what I hoped for, but I am still glad to be here. In Slovenia. With you. A-And Tadeja and Sunil, of course.”

“Of course.”

--

Kurt is absolutely drenched. It’s the worst storm he’s endured in a long time, and he had to go to class. Kurt was smart enough to take the bus, instead of a bike, but even walking to and from the bus got him soaked. His umbrella didn’t last and the thunder is horrendous.

This means that Kurt is extra pissed when he arrives at his building only to hear that classes have been cancelled because of the weather.

“Are you kidding me?” he yells at his building. Luckily, the building has an arch so he can shelter from the rain, but he is pissed and annoyed and he does not feel like making the small trek back home, because then he’ll have to wait at the bus station in this rain.

Suddenly, he has an idea.

KH: Are you home?

BA: Yes

Jackpot! Kurt quickly explains the situation over text and he ends by asking if he can come over to wait for the rain to pass.

BA: 👍

It’s still a ten minute walk and Kurt doesn’t want to run because of tripping hazard, but when he reaches the place, Blaine’s already waiting for him.

“Jesus, Kurt, get in here!” he yells and he ushers Kurt inside.

The moment Kurt’s inside, Blaine helps Kurt out of the soaked clothing.

“Let me- let me see if I have something you can borrow,” he says quickly once Kurt’s down to his underwear. Blaine practically runs to the bedroom. Kurt also realises how weird the situation is, but he was too caught up in getting rid of the wet clothes.

Blaine returns with a hoodie and sweatpants.

“Sorry, not your usual style, but I don’t know what else to give!”

Blaine also has a towel for Kurt.

They exchange clothes so that Kurt can get changed and so that Blaine can hang the others to dry. Kurt looks around. It’s the first time he’s actually inside Blaine’s apartment and it looks nice, but also a bit bare. Kurt’s small room is filled with photo’s of friends and family, but Kurt can’t see any of it here.

“Coffee?” Blaine asks.

“Please! And again, sorry to impose!”

“It’s all right,” Blaine says

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything!”

Blaine shakes his head.

“It’s fine.”

--

A few hours later, Blaine’s fallen asleep against Kurt’s shoulder. They were watching a movie and the sound of the rain made Blaine doze off. Kurt places some of the blanket over him, until he realises that it might be a bit weird. They’re not going to cuddle on Blaine’s couch under a shared blanket, right?

Well, maybe it doesn’t matter. Blaine’s clearly comfortable around Kurt, which isn’t always a given with straight guys.

Kurt watches Blaine sleep and a fond smile forms on his face.

Blaine looks so cute when he’s asleep. He’s so nice that he led Kurt come over. Kurt’s only known Blaine for a short time, but he’s already become such a great friend. And it’s different than with Sunil. Sunil is also a friend and Kurt likes having him around, but hanging out with Blaine is different in a way.

He can’t really understand why.

Or maybe he can.

When Kurt starts to doze off as well, he realises that maybe he has a small crush on Blaine after all.

–   

End notes: Burger Time, my beloved. I had Boni there once and then a few weeks later I took my family to that place, and the waiter remembered me! Although - and I am sorry to say this Kurt - Burger Time didn’t have the best burger. That title belongs to Grill No. 5, but that one closed down after the first COVID wave, and it got replaced by a paella place.

And yes, thunder! I also had to endure a huge storm where there were crazy winds and heavy rain showers. I was inside, though, since ya know, lockdown, but I decided to make good use of that (admittedly terrifying) storm for plot!

[malarkay]

Inside the Wire Chapter 12

During their final battle with the Storm Hawks, Cyclonis is stopped just short of destroying the Dark Ace. Victory, however, eludes them. With Cyclonia fallen, and escape to the Farside cut off, they're forced to confront the consequences of their actions.

In the three days since he arrived at Zartacla, Swift had found roughly half a dozen other problems he wanted to be resolved before he returned to Atmosia, most of them centred around the treatment of the prisoners in Section A.  Apparently, Moss believed that higher security prisoners deserved harsher living conditions, a belief that he didn’t subscribe to.  

They were kept on a lower-calorie diet than the others.  Their regular intake was on par with the punishment rations doled out to misbehaving prisoners in Sections B and C, and their punishment rations were at the starvation level.  It was unsustainable in the long run and went a long way to explaining why they had been hit the hardest by the flu that had besieged the prison.  Malnutrition would do that.  It was a wonder that any of them had managed to stay healthy.  

The unit also wasn’t heated properly.  That was going to change.  Based on average recorded temperatures and humidity levels on Zartacla, they’d be required to ensure that the thermostat readings inside the prison never dipped lower than 18 or higher than 30 degrees.  Prisoners would also be issued weather-appropriate clothing.  How Moss thought it was acceptable to toss them out into the yard every day without a jacket in the dead of winter, rain or shine, was beyond him.

Moss himself had been uncharacteristically quiet since their encounter in the Courtyard and, despite the air of resentment that tinged their interactions, was complying with the changes he was making.  Or so it seemed.  He made a mental note to implement regular surprise inspections for the foreseeable future.  He didn’t expect any positive changes to stick on their own.  There would need to be accountability.

“I just don’t know how you expect me to maintain discipline when you’ve tied my hands so tight,” Moss complained on the third day, his old self finally starting the resurface.

“Productively.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sections B and C have training regimens and work details.  Section A has nothing.  Of course you’re running into behavioural issues.  They’re bored.  Put them to work.”

“The only work details that could use more men are outside the walls.  I can’t send them out there.  They’re security threats.”

“Figure something out.  Create work for them.  Also, this place is a recreational wasteland.“

“It’s a prison. They ain’t here to be entertained.”

“No, but it’ll make your job easier if they are.  Liven up the yards a little.  Maybe build a library.  If you’re having problems with Cyclonis, that’s an easy solution.  The kid’s a voracious reader.  I’m sure she’s not the only one here who is.”

Moss scoffed at his suggestions. 

“I’m trying to help.”

“Yep,” Moss answered dismissively.  “Any idea when I’ll be seeing the back of you?”

“I should be out of your hair in another day or two.”  He just needed to make sure the necessary changes were being implemented first.

~*~*~

“How’s she doing?” Swift asked Tross, the medic on duty.  

“Fever finally broke.  Her appetite’s improving, and she’s coherent.”

“She can speak for herself,” Cyclonis said irritably from her bed nearby, and he smirked.

“And ill-tempered,” Tross added.

He nodded.  “All positive signs.”  He walked over to her bed.  She tried to sit up as he approached, but he shook his head, discouraging the move.  “Save your energy,” he said, leaning on one of the side rails.  He looked down at her silently until she started to look uncomfortable, and then he spoke.  “Out of curiosity, do you remember the last piece of advice I gave you?”

The way her mouth thinned told him that she did.  “Let’s hear it,” he prompted.

“Stay out of trouble,” she said grudgingly.

“How’s that going?”

“I’ve been trying,” she said.

“Escaping is your way of staying out of trouble, is it?”

“Before then, I was trying,” she grumbled, trying to cross her arms, but she was stopped short by the handcuffs that secured one of her wrists to the railing.  She gave it a few violent yanks out of sheer frustration until he closed his hand around her forearm, holding it down.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he admonished her.  

She didn’t try to fight him, and after a moment, he let her go.  “I have been trying,” she repeated.  “But Mr. Moss has had it out for me since day one.  It’s like I can’t do anything right.”

She sounded so bitter that he believed her, and he was unsurprised that Moss would target her.  He was the kind of man who, if he had ever felt slighted or disrespected by someone, would repay the favour with interest.  And he had little doubt that Cyclonis, either intentionally or unintentionally, had at some point made the man feel small.

“So you decided to give him a reason to have it out for you?  You racked up four Level 1, eight Level 2 and two Level 3 infractions in one night.”

“That sounds serious.  You don’t think that will impact my chances of someday getting out of here, do you?” she deadpanned.

She made him thankful that he had a good poker face sometimes.  This was why he hated the kind of sentencing that the tribunal had handed down to her.  When people knew without a doubt that they would die in prison, there wasn’t much incentive to respect the rules.

“It does push back your eligibility for parole by nearly fifteen years,” he answered as if her snide comment had been made in earnest.

She scoffed, as he knew she would.  “It pushes back Ace’s eligibility for parole by nearly fifteen years, too,” he added pointedly, and she looked away from him, jaw clenching.  

“So?” she said.  “They were never going to grant him parole, anyway.”

“Are you sure about that?”

A silence fell between them.  

“I worry,” he confessed to break the silence.  “I can’t help you here like I could on Atmosia.  And you’re not helping yourself, making an enemy of Mr. Moss.”

“I’m fine,” she claimed, a little too vehemently.  “And I don’t need your help.”

“You didn’t look fine when I found you in that cramped cell.”

More silence.

“I don’t know if you remember, but you called me ‘Dad’.”

He grinned as she turned red.  “That never happened!”

“Deny it all you like; there are some things you can never take back,” he teased her.  She groaned in frustration, covering her eyes with her free hand, and his grin softened into a smile.  “Speaking of your father….”  He took a short stack of photos out of his pocket and rapped them against her hand.  She uncovered her eyes, taking the pictures when he offered them.  “Medics found those in your pocket.  I held onto them for you while you were out of it.”  Had they been handed over to Moss, he didn’t think she’d ever see them again.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem.  You want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“Whatever was on your mind in isolation.  You seemed upset.  Something to do with him?”

“No,” she said, not elaborating any further.

He knew she was lying, but he also knew pushing the issue would get him nowhere, so he moved on.  “I have to return to Atmosia soon, but you’re welcome to keep in touch with me via letter.  If you continue to feel unfairly singled out by Mr. Moss, I want to hear about it.”

“No letter with anything bad to say about Mr. Moss is making it off this terra.”

“Not if you go through the proper channels.  But I know that you get regular visitors who know where to find me and who probably won’t read your letters if you politely ask them not to.”

“You want me to use the Storm Hawks to smuggle contraband letters out of prison?”

“Now you’re concerned about rule-breaking?”

“I’m just surprised you’re encouraging it.”

“Just this once.  I recommend you follow every other rule to the letter.  I don’t want to have to come all the way out here again because you can’t follow my advice.”

“How did Atmosia even hear about what happened?  I doubt Mr. Moss bragged about it to the Council.”

“The Storm Hawks ferreted it out.”

She sighed and closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead.  “So they know everything?” she asked tightly.  

“Everything.”

“Great.  Can’t wait to have that conversation.”

“Be glad that they figured it out.  You’d still be sick and starving in isolation if they hadn’t.  Not to mention that abomination Mr. Moss had hidden away behind his office would still be standing.”

Her hand stilled, and she opened her eyes.  “It’s gone?”

“It’s gone,” he confirmed.  “Thanks to them.  So I think you can survive one embarrassing conversation with them when you see them again.”

“I’d rather not,” she said, coming dangerously close to sounding whiny.

He grinned.  He hadn’t completely forgotten what it was like to be her age, how much more important the opinions of his peers had seemed compared to those of the adults in his life.  He understood her humiliation over them knowing about her failure and the punishment that followed, and he could use it.  “Good.  Hold onto what you’re feeling now and remember it whenever you think about doing something stupid.  Ask yourself, ‘Will doing this give the Storm Hawks ammunition they can use to mock me with?’  And then assume that the answer is yes.”

“You’re not funny.”

That just made him grin wider.  He knew she had an unhealthy habit of dwelling on things when she wasn’t kept busy, and while he’d usually try to discourage that tendency, it might do her some good in this case.  The Storm Hawks were good kids.  When they heard about what happened in the Courtyard, they were horrified.  However she was picturing the conversation with them going was almost certainly worse than the reality.  But he kept that opinion to himself.  Let her sweat over it for the next few days.  Maybe it would make her think twice the next time she thought about escaping.

“My son keeps telling me the same thing, but I think you’re both wrong.  Anyway, I have more work to do.  And you should get some more sleep; you still look like death warmed over.  I’ll check back in before I leave to say goodbye.”

~*~*~

“You’re getting sent back to your cell today,” Alba told her two days later.  “You should still take it easy until we’ve fully cleared you, though.  Rest.  Stay hydrated.  No going out in the cold.”

She didn’t argue with those instructions.  She still felt tired all the time.  And weak.  She had been allowed to shower the night before, and even that had felt like a challenge.

“But before you return to your cell, you’re scheduled for a visit with the Storm Hawks.”

She stifled a groan.  No.  Why?  She wasn’t ready to face them yet.

Piper was probably dying to give her another one of her patented talking-to.  And Aerrow doubtlessly had some cutting remarks to throw her way, too.  As humiliating as this meeting was sure to be, she figured she could handle whatever taunts and lectures they had planned.  Her mind had helpfully supplied her with all sorts of possibilities while she tried, and failed, to take Captain Swift’s advice to sleep.  And while she wasn’t looking forward to any of it, it was better than the alternative: pity.  If she saw even a shred of sympathy from either of them, she would lose it.  

Is that why they had gone to the Council?  Why Captain Swift was sent here and the Courtyard dismantled?  Did they feel sorry for her?  She realized she was grinding her teeth at the thought and forced herself to relax.  

She was Master Cyclonis.  She had been, at least.  And there were certain feelings a Master of Cyclonia, even former ones, should invoke in others.  Awe and loyalty.  Fear and hatred.  But no one should ever feel sorry for one.  That implied weakness, and that would not do.  Her grandmother had taught her that.  Bile rose in her throat at the thought of her, but she swallowed it back down.  She has been feverish and confused.  Those nightmares she had had while in isolation were just that, nightmares.  Not memories. 

She sighed.  She was just so tired.  She didn’t want to deal with the Storm Hawks today, no matter what kind of mood they were in.  Maybe if she were standoffish enough, they’d take the hint and keep their thoughts and feelings to themselves.

And maybe then hell would freeze over.  Fingers crossed.

~*~*~

She and Aerrow had been sitting in the visiting room alone for ten minutes.  They had requested to see the Dark Ace along with Cyclonis today, but so far, neither of them had materialized.  

A minute later, a guard appeared.  He was also alone. “No Dark Ace,” he told them.

“What do you mean no Dark Ace?” Aerrow asked, sounding more tired than surprised. 

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

“Can’t you force him to come?”  No matter how much confirmation Aerrow got that the Dark Ace was still safely imprisoned, he still wanted to see it with his own eyes.

“Not really.”

Aerrow crossed his arms.  “Okay.  Any idea how much longer we’ll be waiting on Cyclonis?”

“Should just be a few more minutes.  It takes some time to get discharged from the infirmary.”

True to the guard’s prediction, it was only a couple more minutes before Cyclonis was brought in.  Sitting, she rested her outstretched arms on the table.  She didn’t look directly at either of them, instead focusing her gaze somewhere behind them.  “Let’s just get this over with.”

She didn’t look well.  Between suffering the fallout from the escape attempt and not yet being fully recovered from her illness, Piper wasn’t surprised.  She also wasn’t surprised that Cyclonis wanted to get right down to business.  But a lot had happened since their last meeting, and she wouldn’t pretend it hadn’t.

“So-“ she began and was immediately cut off.

“I don’t want to talk.  Just inspect the cuffs and go.”

“Cyclonis-“

“I said I don’t want to talk,” she snapped, her expression hardening, though she was still looking beyond her instead of at her.

“Hey, how about you pout over still being here on your own time?” 

The look Cyclonis gave Aerrow could freeze a Blizzarian.  He did an excellent job of appearing unbothered by it.  “I’m not pouting.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Listen, I know what you’re thinking,” she said.  “But I promise that we didn’t come here today to judge you, lecture you, or tease you about anything that’s happened.  So will you relax?”

Cyclonis sighed but finally looked at her.  So she had expected them to light into her.  Well, given their history, that fear wasn’t unfounded.  

Maybe if she was nice, she could make her feel bad about her uncharitable assumptions.

“How are you?” 

She was wrong because Cyclonis got all defensive again.  “I don’t need your pity,” she said harshly. 

“I’m not offering it,” she snapped back.  She wouldn’t spend the entire visit tiptoeing around the other girl like she was in the middle of a minefield.  If it were a confrontation she had come here expecting, she’d happily give her one.  Then hopefully, they could move on without all this awkwardness.  “You think I feel sorry for you?  Ha!  I reserve those feelings for victims of circumstances outside their control, not troublemakers who cause all their own problems.  What did you think would happen when you tried to escape the inescapable prison, genius?”

She hoped she sounded convincingly scornful.  Judging by the insulted look on Cyclonis’ face and the shocked amusement on Aerrow’s, she had.  

“Are you done?” Cyclonis asked.

“No, that wasn’t a rhetorical question,” she said, twisting the knife a little.  “Answer it.”

“I-” Cyclonis began, caught off guard by the command.  Her surprise didn’t last long, though, and a scowl quickly replaced her uncertainty.  “Just shut up and check the cuffs,” she demanded.

“I’m not doing anything until you answer my question.  We can sit here all day.”

“I thought we’d succeed,” she said through her teeth.  “It was a sound plan.”

“Obviously, it wasn’t.  Stop trying to weasel your way out of paying for your crimes.  Every time you’ve tried, you’ve made things worse for yourself.”

“Now are you done?” Cyclonis asked, trying to sound huffy but just sounding tired.

“Yes.”

“What about you?” Cyclonis asked, shifting her gaze to Aerrow.  “Anything to add?”

“Nope, that about covers it,” he said, just cheerfully enough to annoy Cyclonis, judging by her frown.

Piper took one of Cyclonis’ hands and began inspecting the cuff.  “How’s Dark Ace?” she asked, figuring it would give Cyclonis an oblique way to open up about what had happened to them.

“I don’t know; we haven’t seen each other since that night.  Why don’t you ask him?”

“We wanted to, but he declined to meet with us.”

“That’s an option?”

“For him, yes,” Aerrow said.  “For you, no.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, this isn’t exactly the highlight of our week, either,” Aerrow agreed, drawing a fleeting smirk out of Cyclonis.

“So, how good a job did the foil do?” she asked as she continued scrutinizing the first cuff.  Cyclonis had had a lot of time in isolation to tamper with them, and she didn’t want to overlook anything.  “It couldn’t have been easy getting full coverage around the cuffs.  Or keeping it in place.”

Cyclonis’ smile was less fleeting this time.  “I did run into some integrity issues with the shields, but they exceeded my expectations.  Going in, I just wanted them to work well enough to stop the Leechers from interacting with the heliblade.  But they were so effective that I was able to handle some crystals.  To a limited extent, anyway.  I didn’t want to push my luck.”

“So what happened?  What went wrong?”  She’d wondered how Cyclonis’ plan had fallen apart since learning about the escape attempt.  She, more than anyone, knew how difficult it was to beat Cyclonis in a fight when crystals were involved.  And yet Mr. Moss had pulled it off?  

Cyclonis’ smile faded, and she looked embarrassed.  “I, uh, did some math wrong.”

“Math?”

“Yeah.  I miscalculated the amount of energy I needed to overload an engine crystal.  They were of higher quality than I realized in the heat of the moment, and I went a little too far.  It was supposed to blow up in Mr. Moss’ face and take him out, but it exploded too soon.  I got caught in the blast, and things went downhill from there.”

So she had been right.  It had been sheer dumb luck that prevented Cyclonis and the Dark Ace from escaping that night.  Cyclonis didn’t often make such rudimentary mistakes.  A knot formed in the pit of Piper’s stomach at the thought of how close they had come to succeeding.  

“What would you have done if you had escaped?”

Cyclonis regarded her with a look that reminded her of how dangerous she was.  “I don’t have a lot of options, do I?”

“There are always options.”

~*~*~

Cyclonis’ cell was a mess.  It had been tossed while she was gone, and all her things had been strewn about and left to wrinkle on the ground.  She did a quick inventory and discovered that the leftover scraps of foil she hadn’t used and her extra blanket were missing.  The page that Piper had torn out of her notebook was also missing.  She figured it must have been confiscated and thrown out rather than handed over to Piper, or else she would have mentioned it.  That was too bad.  She had laid some strong groundwork for that project. 

Surprisingly, her radio was still where she had left it.  She had expected to lose that privilege and was pleasantly surprised she hadn’t.  

She turned on the radio and nearly jumped out of her skin when the aggressive, bass-heavy music Snipe favoured blared out of the speaker at maximum volume.  She turned it down and stormed over to his cell, stopping in the doorway.  “Snipe!  Stay out of my room and keep your hands off my things,” she ordered.

“You’re back!  Ace told us you were really sick.  Ravess thought you were gonna die.”

“I never said she was going to die,” Ravess called over from her cell next door.  “I said I hoped she would.”

She rubbed her temples.  She’d been back in the cellblock for two minutes, and she was already getting a headache.

“Snipe, did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, yeah, keep my hands off your stuff.  I don’t see what the big deal is.  You weren’t using it, and I was sick of listening to Ravess’ dumb violin.”

“Where did Ravess get a violin?”

“The Storm Hawks.”

She closed her eyes briefly and sighed, at a loss for words.  Turning around to return to her cell, she stopped short when Snipe spoke again.  “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

She turned back to him, probably looking as confused as she felt.  “Why?”

He shrugged.  “I dunno, it’d be weird if you did.”

Shaking her head, she returned to her cell and began cleaning up.  A moment later, she felt someone watching her.  She turned toward the door to find Ace standing there and froze.  What was she supposed to say to him?  How was she supposed to apologize for colossally screwing up their escape attempt?  An attempt that should have gone off without a hitch but instead had ended so horribly.  

They stared at each other for a moment, then he stepped into her cell and picked up one of her jumpsuits, folding it before placing it neatly into her locker.  She relaxed.  Fiddling with the radio, she tuned it to one of those classic rock stations he liked, and together they got her cell back in order.  

Once done, she plopped down onto her cot.  Ace pushed her legs out of the way so he could sit.  Lacing his fingers behind his head, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, listening to the radio.  

She waited until the station cut to advertisements before speaking.  “Ace-” she began, but he cut her off.

“Third time’s the charm.”

“What?”

He opened his eyes to look at her.  “We’ll make it out next time.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, even though she wasn’t sure there’d be a next time.  Worse, she could see that same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.  They’d blown the best opportunity to escape that they would ever be given, and they both knew it.

~*~*~

The following week passed uneventfully.  Mr. Moss only made rounds through their cell block once the entire time.  His hand was in a cast, and he glared at her when she asked about it, claiming that he had injured it while working on Bessy.  She could tell he was lying but decided it was in her best interests not to press him.

There had been some noticeable improvements made that she figured they had Captain Swift to thank for.  It wasn’t so miserably cold at night, for one.  And while the food wasn’t any better, there was more of it.  She didn’t get hungry again an hour or two after meals anymore.  Even Snipe complained less frequently than before, though he hadn’t given it up entirely.

Unfortunately, ‘uneventful’ gave her more time to dwell on her fever dreams.  The more she tried to push them out of her mind, the more they popped into her head unbidden.  She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were real memories.  

There was a simple way to test that theory.  She could find that book her father had mentioned.  If it existed, if an ancestor had written it, and if it was about what he had said it was about, that would certainly lend credence to the idea that those dreams had been real memories.  Not incontestable proof, of course, but it would be compelling nonetheless.

But did she want to know?  What good would it do?  It would just poison the feelings she has for her grandmother.  She had raised her.  She had taught her everything she knew.  She loved her.  Why was she even considering this?  Better not to think about it.

She lost a lot of sleep that week not thinking about it.

~*~*~

Monday morning brought an unwelcome change to their routine.  After breakfast, instead of being led back to their cellblock, they were brought down to the main yard.  On the far side of the yard, a cyclone fence had been raised, forming a separate enclosure bordered on three sides by the existing walls.  Along one wall sat a giant pile of sand, a stack of empty sandbags, and two shovels.  

Mr. Moss was waiting for them, Hamish at his side.  He looked pleased with himself, which didn’t bode well.  “It’s been brought to my attention that idle hands do nothin’ but stir up trouble,” he said without preamble.  “So I’ve decided y’all need something to do with your time here.  That’s why from now on, you’ll be out here Monday through Friday, moving that there pile of sand.  You’re gon’ fill these sandbags, haul ‘em to the other side of the yard, and build a wall three meters long by two meters high.  When you’re finished, one of the guards will measure it to make sure it meets those specifications.  Once it does, you’re done for the day.  I reckon it should keep y’all busy for about eight to ten hours.  Longer if you dilly-dally.  If you think sundown will bring an early end to your day, you’re mistaken.  The guards up there,” Mr. Moss said, pointing to the watchtowers to either side of them, “will be keeping an eye on you.  If you’re still working when it gets dark, they’ll provide you with light so you can see what you’re doing.   Then tomorrow, you’ll empty the bags and start all over.”

“I think there’s been some mistake.  I understand how these two have earned this assignment,” Ravess protested as she gestured to her and Ace.  “But Snipe and I have done nothing to deserve this.”

“There’s been no mistake.  All y’all have been nothing but trouble.  An honest day’s work may be just what you need to keep you from getting into any more.  Hamish!  Give ‘em their work gloves.”  Hamish dutifully handed them each a pair of leather gloves.  “You best get to it,” Mr. Moss suggested. 

They paired off.  “This should take roughly four hundred bags to complete,” Ace calculated.  “To keep things fair, each team should fill and move two hundred.  Snipe and I will fill our share of the bags first while you two build the base of the wall,” he said, nodding to her and Ravess. 

“Or you and Cyclonis can build the wall on your own since you’re the reason we’re all being punished,” Ravess suggested.  “That would be fair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ace said.  “Do you want to be out here ‘til midnight?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ravess shot back.  “I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Did I forget to mention the most important part?” Mr. Moss spoke up from where he was still watching them.  “If you don’t work, you don’t eat.  So maybe you should try Ace’s plan.  Anyway, we’ll leave you to it,” he told them as he and Hamish left, closing and locking the gate behind them.

Ravess glared at her and Ace.  “Let’s just get this over with.”

They went with Ace’s plan.  She held the bag open as Ace shovelled sand into it.  Once filled, she hauled the bag to the other side of the yard and added it to their wall.  It was dirty, tiring work.  The bags were heavier than she thought they’d be, and with her just having been cleared by medical the day before, she was only a little embarrassed to find herself struggling with the task as the morning wore on.  Ravess was doing better, but Ravess hadn’t spent the last three weeks being sick, she justified.  

Guards offered them regular water breaks, and once they were halfway done with their task, sack lunches were brought out to them.  They were given as much time as they wanted for their lunch break, but they didn’t take advantage.  None of them were eager to draw this out any longer than they had to.  

They traded places after lunch and, as it turned out, filling the sandbags wasn’t any easier than carrying them.  Snipe was the only one whose mood seemed to improve after lunch.  He’d wait until Ravess had filled five bags before hoisting them up and carrying them to the other side, going on about how this was going to help him get back all his lost gains.  He even challenged Ace to race him a few times.  When Ace didn’t play along, Snipe labelled him a spoilsport.

They finished just in time for dinner.

The next morning, she woke up sore and not looking forward to the day ahead.  This was going to get very old, very fast.

They were brought back out to the yard after breakfast.  Ravess stopped in the middle of the yard and stared at the sandbag wall with an unreadable expression.  Thinking nothing of it, she went to the wall and pulled down one of the sandbags.  Dumping out the sand, she turned to toss the empty bag onto the ground and got sucker punched in the face.  She stumbled back, hitting the sandbag wall before the throbbing pain in her cheek and the realization of what just happened hit her.  

She was grabbed by the front of her jumpsuit and held against the wall as she looked up into Ravess’ snarling face.  “I told you we weren’t done.”  Ace came up behind Ravess, grabbing her by the shoulders, ready to pull her away.   “Get your hands off me, Ace; this doesn’t concern you,” Ravess spat at him.

She nodded to Ace, who backed off.  She and Ravess needed to sort out their differences on their own.

“You’re still mad that we didn’t include you in our plan?” she sneered at Ravess.

“Oh, there is so much more than that to be mad at you about.  You’ve had this coming for a long time.”  

Ravess drew back her fist.  She broke the hold she had on her and ducked under the blow.  Grabbing a fistful of sand, she pushed Ravess away from her and flung the sand at her face.  Ravess turned her head and threw an arm up to shield herself, which protected her from the worst of it.  Still, it was enough of a distraction to allow her to tackle the other woman to the ground.  

“It’s not my fault you’re here,” she said, struggling to pin Ravess down.  She’d never thought about how much upper body strength an archer must have until now.

“The hell it isn’t; we’re all here because you failed to be the leader Cyclonia needed!”

“Well, you’d know all about failure, wouldn’t you?  You excel at it.  That’s why I banished you, and that’s what this is really about, isn’t it?  What do you want from me, Ravess?  To tell you I was wrong?”

“Please, we both know you would never.  So I’ll settle for making you bleed.”  

Ravess grabbed her collar and yanked hard, unbalancing her and giving herself the opening she needed to flip their positions and start pummeling her.

She tucked her chin and put her arms up to guard her face, protecting her head as best she could while she worked her way into a position that would allow her to get out from under Ravess.  Getting the leverage she needed, she rolled, throwing Ravess off her and scrambling to her feet.  

Ravess was up at the same time and went right back on the offensive, taking several swings at her that she was able to dodge or block.  It didn’t take long for the other woman to become visibly frustrated.  It made her sloppy, and soon Ravess took a wild swing at her, leaving herself open.  It was just the opportunity she needed.  Stepping in, she landed a solid blow to her temple.  It didn’t knock her out, but it did disorient her.  She disengaged, taking a few wobbly steps backwards before dropping to one knee and raising one hand in a ‘don’t come any closer’ gesture.

She dropped her guard.  “Impatience always was your greatest weakness,” she said, smirking.  

“And arrogance was always yours,” Ravess answered as her other hand came up to hurl sand and dirt at her.  She reacted too slowly.  Some of the grit made it into her eyes, temporarily blinding her, and she didn’t see the punch coming.  Ravess’ fist connected with her nose with enough force to knock her flat.  Sharp pains shot through her entire face, making her eyes water, and she could taste blood.

Blinking her eyes to clear them, she saw the blurry form of Ravess standing over her with a vicious little grin. 

With a snarl, she lashed out with a kick aimed at Ravess’ knee.  Ravess dropped with a pained scream, and she leapt on top of her.  Straddling her, she grabbed the front of Ravess’ jumpsuit, holding her down while drawing back her fist, ready to repay her for the punch to the nose.

“That’s enough,” Mr. Moss’ voice rang out.  She hesitated but didn’t drop her fist.  “Don’t be stupid, Cyclonis,” he spoke again.  “You know I’ll happily make you regret it.  Now put your hands behind your head.”

She hesitated a moment longer, glaring at Ravess as her blood dripped onto the other woman.  “Go on, hit me,” Ravess dared her.  That galvanized her to act.  Scoffing, she put her hands behind her head.  Mr. Moss was there in an instant, grabbing her by the back of the collar with his non-broken hand and hauling her off of Ravess.  He shoved her toward Ace before turning back to Ravess.  “Can you stand?”

“I think so.”

He offered her his hand, jerking her to her feet when she took it.  Ravess remained standing when he let go, though she had to shift most of her weight to her good leg.

“Pinch your nose as hard as you can tolerate,” Ace told her.  Wincing, she did as he advised, tilting her head back.  Gently, he put his hand on the back of her head and tilted it forward instead.

“My men tell me you started this fight,” Mr. Moss told Ravess.  “That true?”

“Yes,” she answered, sounding unrepentant.

“I hope it was worth a week in solitary.”

She looked up as he spoke to gauge her reaction.  Ravess watched her with a smirk that only grew when their eyes met.  “Oh, it was.”

“Well, alright,” Mr. Moss said.

~*~*~

Ace and Snipe were returned to their cells while she and Ravess were escorted to medical.  

An examination confirmed that her nose was broken.  The good news was that nothing looked displaced, and she could successfully, albeit painfully, breathe through it.  Tross taped it and gave her an ice pack before moving on to Ravess.

Ravess’ knee was sprained, and the hit she took to the temple seemed to have caused a mild concussion.  She was being admitted overnight to the infirmary for observation and, if no complications arose, would be moved to solitary in the morning.

An hour after being brought to the infirmary, she was back in her cell, and they spent the rest of the day locked down.

The following day, they were sent back out to the yard, where it became apparent that Ravess’ punishment was a punishment for them all.  Although they were down a man, they were still expected to build a sandbag wall to the original specifications.  What had taken them ten hours before was now taking them over twelve.

On Friday, it rained the entire day.  That brought a whole new dimension of misery to their work, and it took them even longer to complete the task.  Mr. Moss had had a good laugh at their expense when they finally trudged back into the prison, muddy and soaked to the bone.

All in all, it had been a very long, exhausting week.  

On Saturday, the Storm Hawks visited.  Since her Fridays were now spoken for, their visit date had been officially moved.  

“Come with me,” she told Ace at breakfast that day.

“No.”

“They asked to see you last time.”

“I remember.  I refused then, too.”

“Ace!”

“Whining doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not whining.”

“Really?  Because you sounded the same way when you were seven, and I was teaching you how to handle getting knocked down without crying about it.”

She frowned.  “I still think that was a messed up thing to do to a 7-year-old.”

He shrugged.  “It’s one of the first combat lessons every page who hopes to become a Sky Knight learns at that age.  It’s important.  Besides, I couldn’t hold off any longer, even if I wanted to.  You were bored doing nothing but running drills and wanted to move on to real sparring.  You needed to be prepared for the reality of what you were asking for.”

Before she could respond to that, Snipe spoke up.  “If Ace doesn’t wanna go meet with the Storm Hawks, can I come?  They brought me food that one time when you guys were locked up.  D’you think they’d do it again if I asked?”

“I don’t know, Snipe.  Do you have any other information they want to bribe out of you?” she asked.  

“I don’t think so.”

“Then no.”

“I don’t wanna go, then,” he said, turning his attention back to his breakfast, and she looked back to Ace.  

“Please, Ace, do you know how insufferable they will be when I walk in looking like this so soon after the last debacle?”  She gestured to her face, at her broken nose and the bruising that had formed across her left cheek.  

“You didn’t have to fight Ravess, you know.  I could have handled her for you.”

“Of course I had to fight her.  I would have looked weak if I hadn’t.  And it only would have postponed the inevitable.”

He tilted his head, conceding the point.  

“I feel like I’m under a microscope when I meet with them.  It’s Aerrow’s fault.  I don’t know why he even bothers tagging along anymore.  You’d think he’d have better things to do with his time.”

“So you want me there to distract Aerrow?  Why?  What are you up to?”

“I have a favour to ask of Piper.  She’ll be more likely to agree if she doesn’t have him by her side, coming up with a hundred and one reasons why she shouldn’t.”

“Why?  Is it illegal?”

“No.”

“Unethical?”

“No.”

“Then why would he have a problem with it?”

“He doesn’t like me.  He’ll argue against helping me on general principle.”

He thought that over.

“It’s not a bad plan, bringing along someone he hates more than you.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Just this once.”

~*~*~

As she had hoped, Aerrow and Piper were caught off guard by Ace’s inclusion in the meeting. 

“Dark Ace,” Piper was the first to speak once everyone was settled around the table.  “We, uh, weren’t expecting you.  You look different.”

Aerrow smirked a little, adding a sarcastic, “Nice haircut.”

She’d gotten so used to his shorter hair that she didn’t notice it anymore, but judging by Ace’s scowl, he hadn’t quite gotten over the change.  “I didn’t have a say in the matter,” he said to Aerrow.  “What’s your excuse?”

The smirk dropped from Aerrow’s face.  “What’s wrong with my hair?” he quietly asked Piper.

“Nothing,” she reassured him.

Aerrow looked back at Ace with a mistrustful frown before looking at her.  The suspicion shifted to bemusement.

“What happened to you?”

That drew Piper’s attention from Aerrow to her.  “Were you in a fight?” she asked, exasperated.  “Who’d you tick off this time?  And how are you still finding time to make trouble?  Mr. Moss said he gave you guys jobs.”

Ace leaned in closer to whisper in her ear.  “I see now why you wanted me here.”

“If you have something to say, Dark Ace, say it to all of us,” Aerrow challenged.

“I was just remarking upon your navigator’s uncanny resemblance to an angry mother hen.”

“Hey!” Piper exclaimed.

Aerrow jumped quickly to Piper’s defence, and Ace nudged her.  With Aerrow’s feathers ruffled and his attention solely on Ace, now was the perfect time to speak with Piper.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked Piper, nodding toward one of the empty tables.

Piper looked suspicious but stood, and they moved to the other table.  “Okay, what do you want, and why did you think you needed to distract Aerrow to get it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do I look stupid to you?”

She grinned.  “Brave question.”

“Good talk,” Piper said, standing.

“Wait!  You’re the least stupid person I know.  Now sit down.”

Piper rolled her eyes but sat.  “You must really want whatever you’re going to ask me for to say that.”

“I need a favour.  I promise it’s nothing bad.”

“If it’s nothing bad, then why the subterfuge?”

“Because I want to keep this between us.  I didn’t even tell Ace what it’s about.  I need you to locate a book for me.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay.  What’s the book?”

“It’s called The Great Myth.”

“Who’s the author?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’m working off some pretty old memories here, Piper.”

“Okay…well, what’s it about?”

“It’s a history book.  The Terran Library of Atmosia might have a copy,” she suggested.  “That’s where I’d look first.”

“So what’s so important about this book?”

“Nothing.  Someone once suggested I read it.”

“Wow, you’re doing something someone asked you to do?” Piper joked.

“Very funny.”

“They must be important to you,” Piper said more seriously.

“They were.”  

Piper nodded.  “Okay, I’ll see if I can track down a copy for you.”  Looking back over to the other table, she said, “We should get back over there before they find a way to kill each other.  But first, seriously, are you okay?”

She shrugged off Piper’s concern.  “I’m fine.  It was a one-off fight,” she said.  She hoped.  “And I didn’t start it, by the way.  Your lack of faith in me is offensive.”

“You haven’t done anything to inspire me to believe in you.  Any time you want to try and change my mind, feel free.”

“That sounds like a fool’s errand.”

“I thought you never backed down from a challenge.”

She smirked, and they rejoined the other table, breaking up the argument the boys had been in the middle of.  There was no further conversation between them while Piper checked the cuffs, and they mutually agreed to end the visit immediately after.  

“This was fun,” Ace declared as the Storm Hawks stood.  “Can’t wait to do it again soon.”

“You’re coming to more of these visits?” Aerrow sounded agitated, and Ace’s eyes lit up with amused malice. 

“Perhaps.”

“That went well,” she grinned as they returned to their cells.  Ace’s answering laughter made him sound like his old self again.

~*~*~

Piper’s heart sank when the elderly librarian furrowed her brow in confusion upon hearing her request.  This couldn’t just be easy, could it?  Nothing about Cyclonis ever was.  

“Yeah, I’ve never heard of it, either.  Sorry for wasting your time,” she said, turning to go.  Maybe she would have better luck on Terra Rex.

“Wait, my dear, I’ve heard of it,” the librarian said, and she turned back to her hopefully.

“You have?”

The librarian broke out in a delighted smile.  “Oh yes, I did my dissertation on it.  I was surprised to hear someone your age ask to check it out.  It’s one of the seminal works of non-fiction we have in our archives, offering unprecedented insight into the early days of the Free Atmos.  And I know what you’re thinking, Terra Rex has the market cornered on early Atmosian historical artifacts.”

She wasn’t thinking that, but she nodded along anyway.

“But not,” the librarian said, dramatically pausing before continuing.  “From a Cyclonian perspective.”

“No offence, but I already know what the Cyclonian perspective is on the formation of the Free Atmos.”

“Do you?” the librarian asked, her brown eyes twinkling.  

“Don’t I?” she answered hesitantly.  The librarian just smiled, and she went on.  “What I don’t get is why I’ve never heard of this book until a few days ago.  If it’s such an influential history text-”

“Ah, that’s not precisely true.”

“I was told it’s a history book.”

“It’s a memoir.  You may never have heard of it, but you’ll find mentions throughout the footnotes of many of our history books.  Of course, so few people read footnotes these days.”

“A memoir?  Whose?”

The librarian clapped her hands before clasping them to curb her excitement.  “I am so glad you asked.”

She looked at the librarian expectantly.

“That’s one of history’s great unanswered questions.”

“The book was published anonymously?”

“Oh no, it was published under the name Canton I. Scylla.”

“You think that’s a pseudonym?”

“I know it is.  One of the few things we know for certain about him is that he went by a fake name.”

“No one knew his real name?”

“No.  But there are theories.  Nearly five hundred years worth of theories.  Would you like to take a seat, dear?  This will take a while.”

“Oh, no, thank you.  I just need-”

She cut off as the librarian ushered her to one of the tables and pulled out a chair for her.  With a pained smile, she sat.

Over the next several hours, she was given a comprehensive crash course on The Great Myth, its mysterious author, and the various academic theories surrounding both.

The book, which she decided she’d read before she handed it over to Cyclonis, sounded fascinating.  From what she was told, it painted a nuanced and thoughtful picture of the sociopolitical landscape of the Cyclonian Empire before, during, and after the Free Atmos broke away.  

Not much was known about Canton besides being a Cyclonian, born and raised somewhere within the Empire’s Core.  That was the nickname given to those terras that would remain a part of the Empire by those that would soon break away from it.  The ones that took more than they gave.  The ones blind to the suffering of the terras on the outskirts of the Empire, whose food they ate, whose crystals they burned through, and whose young men they pressed into service to protect the Core from their increasingly desperate brethren.

And it had been blindness at first.  Canton spoke with poignant nostalgia of a youth spent in blissful ignorance and of an Empire unaware that it was about to collapse in on itself.  He was happy, after all.  Everyone he knew was.  They wanted for nothing.  The thought that their experience was not universal never crossed their minds.

But as he grew, so did the outer terras’ discontent and his awareness.  It became harder to ignore.  He wrote, sometimes scathingly, of how the people of the Core, from the average citizen up to the Master himself, had tried.  And he wrote of the harsh measures taken once ignoring the problem became impossible.

Then the outer terras began to break away, and the real problems started.  The Core quickly discovered how reliant they had become upon those lost terras.  Resources dwindled, and people who had never known hardship began to experience it for the first time.  There was suffering and loss and anger.  Eamon Cyclonis, the Master then, quickly directed his people’s anger toward those terras who dubbed themselves the Free Atmos.  They had broken the Empire.  They had destroyed the prosperity they had all so recently enjoyed.  They were the enemy.

And Cyclonian jingoism was born.  

Canton left the Empire soon after, eventually settling on Atmosia itself.  He was an enigma—an academic with more than an academic knowledge of Cyclonian history and politics.  Theories abounded.  He was Cyclonian nobility, forced to flee the Empire after being accused of being a Free Atmosian sympathizer.  He was a member of the Master’s inner circle, exiled for some real or imagined failure.  He was a servant who had heard too much, who ran before the Master decided he needed to disappear.  

“I don’t think that last one is very likely,” the librarian told her.  “Canton was clearly very well educated.  A scholar with the soul of a poet,” she sighed, then scoffed at herself.  “Oh, listen to me!  I sound like a schoolgirl with a crush.”

She grinned.  “It sounds like he wrote one heck of a memoir.”

“That he did.  I’m afraid I’m not doing it justice.  You’ll see.”

“So, who do you think he was?”

The librarian grinned.  “Oh, I subscribe to the most controversial theory of all.”

She waited, but the librarian didn’t offer up an explanation.  “You’re not going to tell me?”

“You seem like a smart girl.  I want to see if you can figure it out.  Go on; it’ll be fun.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Then I’ll get you started.  Embrace your inner conspiracy theorist and ask yourself, ‘What’s in a name?’”

She stared at the librarian for a moment before smiling.  “No….”

The librarian raised her eyebrows and slid a pen and paper her way.  She wrote out the name Canton I. Scylla.  “You think it’s an anagram?” she asked the librarian as she wrote.

“There's a compelling reason to believe it is.”

She looked at the letters, mentally rearranging them in her head.  It didn’t take long for one name to jump out at her.  She crossed out the C, the O, and the N.  She crossed out the I.  She crossed out the S, C, Y, and one of the L’s.

Underneath, she wrote ‘Cyclonis.’

The librarian sat back with a satisfied hmph.

 “Eamon had two sons,” she explained.  “The eldest, Alaric, became Master after his death.  The youngest….”

She pointed to each of the five letters that remained.

“Altan?”

“Records are fuzzy about what became of him.  Full disclosure, we don’t know much about Cyclonian history following the formation of the Free Atmos.  They started guarding their secrets as jealously as they guarded their resources.  It’s possible that he lived out his life on Cyclonia, doing whatever it is those spare Cyclonis scions do.  Or….”

“Or he defected to Atmosia and wrote a book denouncing his own people.”

“Just so.  Of course, Canton denied that he was Altan to his dying day.  One can hardly blame him.  I have heard that he confessed on his deathbed to never marrying and having children to avoid perpetuating his ‘poisonous bloodline.’  As you can imagine, that tale is apocryphal.  All verifiable accounts say he died suddenly in his sleep.  But it’s a fun story.”

She laughed uncomfortably.  Fun.  

“Okay, but if he was Altan, why not stay on Cyclonia and try to fix things?  He saw the road they were heading down, and he knew what they were becoming.  He could have stopped it.  He could have at least tried.”

“Everything I’ve read about Alaric suggests that he was his father’s son in every way.  He would never allow himself to be steered off course by anyone, not even his brother.  To make any meaningful changes, Altan would have to become the Master of Cyclonia.  And that…well, as I said before, he was a scholar and a poet.  I don’t think he had it within him to do what needed to be done to make that happen.”

Piper sighed.  She wanted to be angry at him for not doing what needed to be done.  But at the same time, she could understand not wanting to cross certain lines.  He had been between a rock and a hard place, and she wasn’t sure what she would have done in his position.

“Is there some sort of study guide that gives an overview of all these theories I can borrow alongside The Great Myth?”

“You’re in luck; I have just the thing.  I even know the author personally,” the librarian said with a wink, and Piper laughed.  She’d certainly come to the right place.

~*~*~

Cyclonis learned of Ravess’ release from solitary when the woman showed up in the doorway of her cell after dinner.

She was on her feet in an instant.  “Are you here to get yourself thrown back into solitary already?”

Ravess chuckled.  “Don’t get your hackles up; I’m not here to fight you.”  She limped further into the cell, scoffing a little when she noticed her noticing.  “Credit where credit’s due; you’re scrappier than I expected you to be.”

“Why are you here, then?” she asked, crossing her arms.  

“I’ve had time to think things over, and I forgive you for not including me in your escape attempt.”

It was her turn to laugh.  Was she serious?  “Thank you, the guilt has been eating me up inside,” she said sarcastically.

Ravess sneered.  “What I really mean is that I wouldn’t want to include you in my escape attempt, either.”

“I’m shocked.”

“Not because I believe that you deserve to rot in here forever,” Ravess continued as if she hadn’t spoken.  “But because I’m starting to think you believe you deserve to rot in here forever.”

The small amount of entertainment she was getting from this conversation evaporated.  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked as Ravess smiled, pleased with herself.

“You tell me.  You’re the one who botched two escape attempts.  You, who came within a hair’s breadth of conquering the entire Atmos, can’t break yourself out of prison?  You must not want it badly enough.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and that’s saying a lot.”

“There are only two explanations,” Ravess went on, unperturbed by the insult.  “Either the Atmosians succeeded in making you feel guilty, or you don’t want to go back home.  Maybe a little of both?  Hmm?  I can’t help but notice that you’re not arguing.”

“Where’s all this coming from, Ravess?  What’d I ever do to you?” 

“You mean besides leaving me stateless?  Thanks to your stupid little war, few neutral terras were left when you banished me.  Exiled from Cyclonian territory, not welcome within the borders of the Free Atmos, where exactly did you expect me to go?”

“My stupid little war?”

Ravess rolled her eyes.  “Of course that’s what you fixate on.”

“I never heard any complaints from you about the war back in Cyclonia.”

“It wasn’t my place.”

“As one of my top Commanders, if you had any concerns, it was your job to voice them.”

Ravess’ laughter was incredulous.  “You are severely overestimating your own reasonableness.  You tolerated dissenting opinions as well as you tolerated failure.”

“That’s not fair.  I was very patient with your and your brother’s failures.”

“While we were useful to you.  And the moment you thought you could get the job done without us, you tossed us aside.  All I ever tried to do was win your stupid little war,” Ravess needled her by emphasizing those last four words, “as quickly and efficiently as possible.”

“To help restore the Empire to its former glory.”

“To go home and focus on my music.”

“Really?  If you hated fighting so much, why did you go right back to it after the war ended?”

“To liberate Cyclonia after you sold it out!  I couldn’t very well go back to Bluster with it under Atmosian rule, could I?”

“You’re telling me you never cared about us conquering the Atmos?”

“Why should I?  What difference did it make to me if you ruled all of the Atmos or just half of it?”

She scoffed.  She couldn’t believe this.  How many other Cyclonians felt the way Ravess did?  

“Well, I’m sorry you were so miserable furthering the interests of the Empire and its people.”

“So were you,” Ravess said as if she had a revelation.

She shook her head in denial.

“Yes, you were!  Half the time, you treated ruling the Empire like a distraction that was taking you away from your real work.  It all makes sense now.  You just wanted everyone to leave you alone so you could play with your crystals, didn’t you?”

“That’s not true,” she frowned.  She didn’t appreciate Ravess questioning her dedication to the Empire.  So what if she hadn’t always been happy dealing with the minutiae of the job or the pomp and ceremony of state affairs?  She’d seen them all through, hadn’t she?  No one could accuse her of shirking her imperial duties.

“Of course not,” Ravess said, her tone falsely placating.  “I’m sure you’d go back to the Empire and pick things up right where you left off if only you could escape….”

“I didn’t sabotage those escape attempts,” she said, growing more annoyed by the second.  

“Maybe, maybe not.  But one thing is for certain.  If and when I stage my escape, you won’t be a part of it.  I want mine to succeed.”

“Best of luck, now get out,” she said, pointing to the door behind Ravess.  She half suspected that Ravess was trying to goad her into throwing a punch now, and she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Gladly,” Ravess said with a smirk before turning and limping back to her cell.

~*~*~

Piper set the book down on the table in front of her, watching Cyclonis as she did so.  After reading the book, she had a hard time understanding what Cyclonis wanted with it.  It directly contradicted everything she claimed to believe about her empire. 

Even stranger, Cyclonis looked at the book as if she saw a ghost.  Glancing over at the other table, where the Dark Ace was once again serving as a distraction for Aerrow, she judged that she had time to ask a few questions before handing over The Great Myth, along with the librarian’s book of theory and analysis she had borrowed with it.  

“You didn’t think this book existed, did you?” she accused her.  

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cyclonis said, reaching across the table to take the book.  She slapped her hand on top of it, preventing her from claiming it.

“Who asked you to read this book?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business when you asked for my help.  Who told you about this book, Lark?” she asked, hoping to goad her into answering the question.

“That’s not going to work,” she said, seeing through her tactic.

“Fine.  I guess I’ll take this back to the library, then.”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Because I burned an entire afternoon getting a history lesson from an overzealous librarian about this book and then even more time reading it.  And now I’m curious who would be daring enough to recommend it to you.”

The look Cyclonis gave the book this time was less ‘seeing a ghost’ and more ‘confronting a Saharran spitting viper.’

“Is it that bad?”

“Answer my question and find out for yourself.”

Cyclonis still wasn’t forthcoming with an answer, and she was just about to shove the book back into her bag when the other girl’s shoulders slumped as she sighed.  “My father.”

That was not the answer she had been expecting.  

“Weren’t you really young when he died?”

“Yes.”

“You can remember stuff from that long ago?”

“Bits and pieces.  And I had a very vivid dream while I was sick.  I wasn’t sure if it was just a dream or a memory.”

“And now that you know this book is real, you think it was a memory.”

Cyclonis seemed reluctant to answer but finally said, “Yes.”

“It doesn’t sound like it was a very happy one,” she said sympathetically.  Cyclonis shrugged, but she could tell from her expression that she was right.  If this book played a key role in it, she wasn’t surprised.  While the author didn't demonize the Cyclonian Empire, per se, he didn’t pull his punches when it came to criticizing it when it was deserved, or its ruling family.  She couldn’t understand why Cyclonis’ father would recommend this book to anyone, least of all his daughter and heir.  

“You said before that you had no idea who wrote this book.  You sure about that?”

“Canton Scylla,” Cyclonis answered, reading the name inscribed on the cover.

“That wasn’t his real name.”

Cyclonis didn’t look surprised, which she found suspicious.  She knew, or at least suspected, more than she was letting on.

She pulled the other book out of her bag, setting it atop The Great Myth before passing both books over to Cyclonis.  “You should read the top book first.  It offers up some interesting theories about who Canton was.  And I think you’ll get more out of it if you know who wrote it first.”

~*~*~

Cyclonis didn’t read the first book so much as skim it.  She already knew what she was looking for: proof for or against The Great Myth being written by an ancestor.  

It didn’t take long to find it.  Altan Cyclonis.  She didn’t bother trying to deny the theory to herself.  It made too much sense.  She remembered her private history lessons.  The ones taught not by her tutors but by her grandmother.  She recognized the name.  He was her many times great-granduncle from the time of the dissolution of the original Cyclonian Empire.  And the family’s greatest disgrace.  

He had been jealous of his older brother’s ascension to the throne but too weak-willed to usurp his power.  And so he had betrayed the family in the worst way possible.  He had defected to the Free Atmos.  Even there, he failed to become anyone of note and died in penniless obscurity.

Her grandmother hadn’t mentioned him writing a book.  Given the memories she had uncovered, she wasn’t surprised.  She wondered what else her grandmother had failed to mention about him or outright lied about.  

With much trepidation, she opened The Great Myth to the first page.