#I'm at 7/30 tasks so far!

[kedreeva]

Alright, I'm dragging you all into doing tasks with me today.

I've gotta do a bunch of laundry and dishes and clean floors and stuff, and I hate working alone, so here's what we're gonna do!

When you reblog this and tell me your completed task, I'll add it to a tally and update periodically with a progressive total. Before I go out tomorrow, I'll grab a final count, and that's how many whole food "treat" pieces the birds will get when I get home (a mix of fishies and crickets and mealworms and blueberries and nugget treats and banana pieces etc, all stuff that is a good part of their diet). Tasks can be anything you need to do, but it would make me especially happy for folks to do things they've been putting off or are hard to find motivation to do alone, so the birds can help you back.

So! Let's get to work together today!

Do it for her!

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach. 

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always. 

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.  

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger. 

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job. 

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand. 

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all. 

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another. 

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly. 

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough. 

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know. 

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read. 

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that. 

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you. 

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you. 

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking. 

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there. 

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch. 

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose. 

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw. 

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy. 

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine. 

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince. 

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him. 

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage. 

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing. 

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue. 

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin. 

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.” 

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did. 

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you. 

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt. 

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago. 

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm. 

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that. 

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide. 

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance. 

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression. 

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless. 

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice. 

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption. 

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye. 

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong. 

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger. 

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all. 

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there. 

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat. 

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist. 

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating. 

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned. 

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived. 

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it. 

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.” 

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome. 

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you. 

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut. 

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced. 

Footsteps. Again. 

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck. 

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was. 

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard.  Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers. 

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you. 

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing. 

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head. 

Gods, you had never known anything like it. 

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist. 

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery. 

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him. 

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in? 

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.  

Like things were going exactly how he had planned. 

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much. 

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear. 

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn. 

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along? 

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s? 

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.  

He wanted you to see. 

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play. 

Sleep did not come easy that night. 

 

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place. 

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day. 

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman. 

There was none. Not a single strand of hair. 

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him. 

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava. 

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing. 

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat. 

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw. 

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time. 

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck. 

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach. 

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.” 

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs. 

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips. 

Lavender, leather and him. 

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view. 

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable.  “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh. 

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him. 

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter. 

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.” 

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?” 

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap. 

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure. 

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter. 

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.” 

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.   

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad. 

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor. 

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline. 

“You would not dare,” he all but growled. 

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?” 

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile. 

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

⚔️ MWII (2022) Character Ages (as of 2022) ⚔️

I was on a character age brainrot back in January and now It's back because of @angelsarewatching so I'm gonna go ahead and post this on Tumblr. Tell me what you think tho and discussions are open!

🐑 Gen. Shepherd - Around late 50s, Pushing 64. I searched it up and apparently, the mandatory retirement age for all general officers is 62, in some cases 64. But if he got into the recommendation list after Brigadier General (O-7), it's allowed to be more than 62. He's a Lt. Gen, so that's O-9. Also, Glenn Morshower (Shepherd's actor) is 64 so let's go with that.

🧠 Laswell - 47-ish. At MOST 55. (Rya Khilstedt is 52. AMAZING BEAUTIFUL SHOW -STOPPING)

🚁 Nikolai - 45 as well. I would go with 48 though.

🪦 Graves - 40. He gives Texan cowboy energy. I just know he's an old dude and is actually older than the rest of the gang.

🛖 Alejandro and 🦂 Valeria - 37. Maybe 38. I don't know at what age someone could make the rank Colonel 'cause that's quite high up the ladder. (They might as well be older than Price. Shit, they might be 40.)

🚬 Price - 37 (Canon) c. 1985.

🐎Rudy - 36. He's been close with Alejandro for 20 years now. Assuming they're bestest of friends and knew each other even before military, Rudy would be around 36/37 as well.

💀 Ghost - 35 or lower. As far as I know, lieutenants are usually young, unless he enlists first before a few years later he went to the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst (RMAS). OR. His preference and efficiency of working alone are far better for use on the battlefield. The higher you are in the ranks, the more soldiers you are responsible for. So the higher-ups might purposefully don't promote him (and he prefers and agrees to it as well) so that he can continue working alone rather than leading a squad. He surely can lead a team, but he's better at doing shit alone. Crazy theory but hey, it's fiction.

🦿Alex - 35 (Alex was a Delta Force until 2013. Assuming he's around 26 when he finally goes to the CIA, that means he's around 32yo in 2019 and 35yo in 2022)'

🔭 Hadir - 33/34 (Canon) 1986/1987. I’m choosing 34 tho since in the ‘Hometown’ mission he was almost a teenager.

☀️ Farah - 30 (Canon) January 12th 1990.

🧢 Gaz - 26 (Canon). The bio says he enlisted in the British Army in 2014. Assuming Gaz finished high school first, he must’ve enlisted when he was 18yo. That means he was 23yo in MW19 and 26yo in MW22. 

🧼 Soap - 26 (Canon). He’s canonically the youngest one in Task Force 141. The bio mentioned that his cousin is in SAS and he often time visits the base. Setting aside the fact that the cousin brought a fucking kid to a top-secret base, lil’ Johnny must’ve been like “I DON’T WANNA GO TO SCHOOL I WANT TO BE AN SAS SOLDIER” and he canonically LIED about his age. Apparently, he went in when he was 16 but got caught several times, until finally when he was 18 he got in. 

--

That's it folks! Tell me what you think (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

[agapi-kalyptei]

crowdstrike: hot take 1

It's too early in the news cycle to say anything truly smart, but to sum things up, what I know so far:

there was no "hack" or cyberattack or data breach*

a private IT security company called CrowdStrike released a faulty update which practically disabled all its desktop (?) Windows workstations (laptops too, but maybe not servers? not sure)

the cause has been found and a fix is on the way

as it stands now, the fix will have to be manually applied (in person) to each affected workstation (this could mean in practice maybe 5, maybe 30 minutes of work for each affected computer - the number is also unknown, but it very well could be tens (or hundreds) of thousands of computers across thousands of large, multinational enterprises.

(The fix can be applied manually if you have a-bit-more-than-basic knowledge of computers)

Things that are currently safe to assume:

this wasn't a fault of any single individual, but of a process (workflow on the side of CrowdStrike) that didn't detect the fault ahead of time

[most likely] it's not that someone was incompetent or stupid - but we don't have the root cause analysis available yet

deploying bugfixes on Fridays is a bad idea

*The obligatory warning part:

Just because this wasn't a cyberattack, doesn't mean there won't be related security breaches of all kinds in all industries. The chaos, panic, uncertainty, and very soon also exhaustion of people dealing with the fallout of the issue will create a perfect storm for actually malicious actors that will try to exploit any possible vulnerability in companies' vulnerable state.

The analysis / speculation part:

globalization bad lol

OK, more seriously: I have not even heard about CrowdStrike until today, and I'm not a security engineer. I'm a developer with mild to moderate (outsider) understanding of vulnerabilities.

OK some background / basics first

It's very common for companies of any size to have more to protect their digital assets than just an antivirus and a firewall. Large companies (Delta Airlines) can afford to pay other large companies to provide security solutions for them (CrowdStrike). These days, to avoid bad software of any kind - malware - you need a complex suite of software that protects you from all sides:

desktop/laptop: antivirus, firewall, secure DNS, avoiding insecure WiFi, browser exploits, system patches, email scanner, phishing on web, phishing via email, physical access, USB thumb drive, motherboard/BIOS/UEFI vulnerabilities or built-in exploits made by the manufacturers of the Chinese government,

person/phone: phishing via SMS, phishing via calls, iOS/Android OS vulnerabilities, mobile app vulnerabilities, mobile apps that masquerade as useful while harvesting your data, vulnerabilities in things like WhatsApp where a glitched JPG pictures sent to you can expose your data, ...

servers: mostly same as above except they servers have to often deal with millions of requests per day, most of them valid, and at least some of the servers need to be connected to the internet 24/7

CDN and cloud services: fundamentally, an average big company today relies on dozens or hundreds of other big internet companies (AWS / Azure / GCP / Apple / Google) which in turn rely on hundreds of other companies to outsource a lot of tasks (like harvesting your data and sending you marketing emails)

infrastructure - routers... modems... your Alexa is spying on you... i'm tired... etc.

Anyway if you drifted to sleep in the previous paragraph I don't blame you. I'm genuinely just scratching the surface. Cybersecurity is insanely important today, and it's insanely complex too.

The reason why the incident blue-screened the machines is that to avoid malware, a lot of the anti-malware has to run in a more "privileged" mode, meaning they exist very close to the "heart" of Windows (or any other OS - the heart is called kernel). However, on this level, a bug can crash the system a lot more easily. And it did.

OK OK the actual hot lukewarm take finally

I didn't expect to get hit by y2k bug in the middle of 2024, but here we are.

As bad as it was, this only affected a small portion of all computers - in the ballpark of ~0.001% or even 0.0001% - but already caused disruptions to flights and hospitals in a big chunk of the world.

maybe-FAQ:

"Oh but this would be avoided if they weren't using the Crowdwhatever software" - true. However, this kind of mistake is not exclusive to them.

"Haha windows sucks, Linux 4eva" - I mean. Yeah? But no. Conceptually there is nothing that would prevent this from happening on Linux, if only there was anyone actually using it (on desktop).

"But really, Windows should have a better protection" - yes? no? This is a very difficult, technical question, because for kernel drivers the whole point is that 1. you trust them, and 2. they need the super-powerful-unrestrained access to work as intended, and 3. you _need_ them to be blazing fast, so babysitting them from the Windows perspective is counterproductive. It's a technical issue with no easy answers on this level.

"But there was some issue with Microsoft stuff too." - yes, but it's unknown if they are related, and at this point I have not seen any solid info about it.

The point is, in a deeply interconnected world, it's sort of a miracle that this isn't happening more often, and on a wider scale. Both bugfixes and new bugs are deployed every minute to some software somewhere in the world, because we're all in a rush to make money and pay rent and meet deadlines.

Increased monoculture in IT is bad for everyone. Whichever OS, whichever brand, whichever security solution provider - the more popular they are, the better visible their mistakes will be.

As much as it would be fun to make jokes like "CrowdStroke", I'm not even particularly mad at the company (at this point - that might change when I hear about their QA process). And no, I'm not even mad at Windows, as explained in the pseudo-FAQ.

The ultimate hot take? If at all possible, don't rely on anything related to computers. Technical problems are caused by technical solutions.

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 125]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55 Part 56 Part 57

I have been sick and I'm very tired, but I will work on the epilogue today for a bit at least!

Chapter 58 (Patton)

If Patton hadn’t already been looking, he probably wouldn’t have had any idea what happened.

Everything had been fine. Virgil had been sitting cross legged, idly watching the conclusion of the game they’d been playing when his posture had suddenly changed. Patton had looked over at him only to see an expression on his face he didn’t recognize, but it didn’t seem good.

“What?” Patton had asked, but the question didn’t seem to register to Virgil.

Logan had glanced up confused and also noticed Virgil’s face. He’d just opened his mouth to also ask what was going on when chaos descended.

Virgil was suddenly moving, crashing into King Thomas who hadn’t even looked up to see something was wrong at that point. Patton realized after the fact that Virgil had swiped up the board of the game they’d been playing as he jumped over it, the pieces previously stacked on it scattering all over the blanket. There were three thumps as some things hit the thick board, imbedding themselves into the surface.

When Virgil discarded the board in favor of the picnic basket, Patton saw there were small darts in it oozing a dark black liquid. The parts of the board they touched were dissolving, the grass under the new holes beginning to wilt rapidly.

Logan seemed to notice the oozing liquid the same moment Patton did and was quicker to realize what it was. He grabbed Patton’s arm and yanked him away from the board so hard he almost dislocated Patton’s shoulder, not that Patton was too worried about that. He scrambled away from it when he realized what it must be himself.

He could hear the sound of glassware smashing above them. Logan and Patton had rolled off the blanket in their quest to get away from the smoldering, melting board and apparently Virgil had pulled the picnic blanket fully over the king at some point.

Virgil himself was now gone from where he’d been the last time Patton had looked and it took him a moment to figure out where the boy had gone. The person who had been shooting poisoned darts at them had been drawn out of the wooded area they’d been hiding in by Virgil’s attacks.

They were cloaked in dark green from head to toe, explaining why they’d been difficult to spot when they were in the woods. Whoever they were, they were significantly larger than Virgil, possibly an actual adult or almost adult assassin, but they were also clearly a long distant fighter. They had not been expecting resistance let alone resistance in the form of a so quick he was almost a blur fellow assassin.

They had a bow strapped to their back, but they hadn’t had a chance to get it. Instead, they were trying to fight Virgil off with an arrow they’d managed to draw from their quiver. Virgil, meanwhile was lunging at them with a broken piece of plate in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.

Virgil dodged out of the way of the arrow striking towards his arm, though Patton didn’t think it was because he was afraid of getting scratched by an arrow, but because it may also be poisoned tipped.

Virgil was distracted by dodging for long enough that the older assassin managed to hit him in the face with the arm not holding the arrow.

He went down, but he took the older assassin with him, sweeping their legs out from under them. Patton hadn’t noticed (his mind working too slow for how fast they were moving) but they were on a slight incline. They went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs towards the edge of the cliff and skidded to a stop only a few feet away.

Virgil ended up on top, his piece of broken plate in his hands. He moved to slash it across the other assassin’s throat and managed to draw blood, but the assassin’s fist came out to shove at Virgil’s chest at just the right moment, causing the strike to veer off course and slice across the assassin’s cheek instead.

Virgil jerked to the side to avoid a second strike to the chest and went back for another slash. The other assassin rolled to the side as he did and the plate only managed to nick their ear. The point of the motion hadn’t been to dodge, however. They were lunging for the arrow they’d dropped a few feet away while they’d rolled. They grabbed it with their right hand and in the same motion stabbed back behind them towards Virgil.

Virgil rolled to avoid the hit, already slashing up with his plate as the assassin turned back towards him.

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He didn’t hit them this time but his swipe managed to stop them from stabbing him when they tried again. They shoved themselves back to avoid Virgil’s swing, putting a bit of distance between them. Both of them managed to make it to their feet during the momentary reprieve, but both also stayed crouched, eyeing each other.

They both lunged towards each other at the same time. The assassin went for a stab to Virgil’s neck with the arrow, but Virgil was already ducking down. This time, he wasn’t going for a kill shot. He grabbed the assassin’s wrist and at the same time drove his piece of plate into the assassin’s arm, slicing down from the elbow to wrist. The assassin spoke for the first time, cursing in a language Patton didn’t recognize as they were forced to drop their arrow.

Virgil took a moment to kick the arrow away from the assassin and it ended up falling off the cliff.

However, this pause gave the assassin enough time to regroup. Despite their arm bleeding profusely, they still decided to use it to backhand Virgil across the face viciously, leaving a long line of their own blood across his face.

Virgil lunged back forward, but the assassin was able to get a leg between them, kicking Virgil squarely in the chest and sending him flying back a few feet parallel to the cliff’s edge.

The assassin went to grab their bow and another arrow from the quiver still strapped to their shoulder.

Virgil, however, apparently went for another weapon too and he was much faster with a knife than any archer. A knife appeared in his hand, having been strapped to his ankle and was embedded into the assassin’s chest before they could even full remove an arrow from their quiver.

The assassin promptly burst into flames, fire catching their clothes (and from the smell of it their skin) ablaze. Panicked and dying, they stumbled two steps to the side. They stepped directly off the cliff.

There was a second of silence. They heard the sound of the body hitting the ground far below and then the flap of wings and screeching as birds below fled from the startling sound (and possible soon to be forest fire).

…

“Uh, Virgil?” King Thomas said. He had managed to get the blanket off his head at some point. When, Patton didn’t know, but seeing any of it was probably enough.

Oopsie.

Chapter 59 (Logan)

Logan and Patton had been useless during the fight, but that may have been for the best. Considering the skill differential when it came to fighting (and that differential had never been as clear as it was in this moment), that was probably for the best. They likely would have just gotten in the way.

The moment Logan’s father spoke, however, they both jumped into action.

They both knew their jobs in a situation like this. Patton pushed himself up to his feet ungracefully and all but sprinted over towards Virgil. Logan, on the other hand stood to face his father, putting himself very purposefully between the man who had no idea what was going on yet and the boy who was two seconds away from remembering what was going on.

“I can explain,” Logan said.

His father was still sitting on the ground. “You can explain,” he said slowly, “how Virgil just threw an assassin off a cliff.”

Logan thought pointing out that Virgil hadn’t thrown anyone off a cliff and instead had set them on fire with a magical knife causing them to walk off a cliff, would not be useful in this moment. He glanced back briefly towards where Virgil and Patton were standing and then turned back to his father. “Yes.”

“And what would that explanation be?”

Before even starting to speak, Logan found himself making large dramatic ‘explaining hand gestures’ that he’d thought he’d long since trained himself out of. When he was younger and in trouble, he always used to give himself away as guilty by being overly expressive with his hands (and arms).

“So,” Logan said. He was still not able to stop the hand motions. “Virgil was an assassin. He came here to kill you last fall, but he accidently went to the wrong room in the royal wing. Patton and I were having a slumber party and caught him in the act. Then we reformed him and now he doesn’t kill people anymore.” He paused and glanced back, remembering the body that had just toppled off the cliff. “Er, uh, he doesn’t kill people who haven’t shot poisoned darts at people recently anymore?”

“What?”

“Look,” Logan said. “You’re going to have to tell him you’re not going to execute him soon. Patton can only keep him from bolting for so long.”

“Execute him?” his father asked.

“Well, he was a Mocnejsi assassin sent to kill you,” Logan said.

“Virgil is a Mocnejsi assassin,” his father repeated as though to confirm he’d heard him right.

Logan had thought the Mocnejsi was implied. “He was,” Logan confirmed.

“Why does that make more sense than any other explanation I’ve come up with for him?” his father asked while pinching his brow. Logan took that as rhetorical. Then, his father looked at him again. “He’s 14.”

“Yes,” Logan said, “I’m also pretty sure this is the first person he’s actually killed while not under a blood compulsion, so you really need to tell him he’s not going to be executed.”

His father seemed to actually absorb Logan’s request this time. He finally looked over Logan’s shoulder at Virgil, concern crossing his face at what he saw. “Right.”

He moved to step around Logan then, and Logan let him. Logan turned to watch him slowly approach Patton and Virgil, his hands out in a placating manner. He stopped a few feet away.

“Hey,” his father said. “That was a bit scary, huh?” Virgil looked at him, eyes wide and darting around like they did when he was looking for an escape. There wasn’t much of one being so close to the edge of the cliff.

Logan would worry he’d contemplate throwing himself off of it in a bid to escape if Patton wasn’t clutching him to prevent that. “You did a good job.”

That seemed to give Virgil pause, his eyes focusing on father. “Good job?” he asked.

“Yes, well,” father said with a small smile, “judging by what those darts are doing to the grass and how far we are from any supplies for counter potions, I think you blocking them probably saved my life. So, I think a good job is in order.”

Virgil did not respond verbally, though he tilted his head like he did when he was thinking through the steps of a potion.

His posture changed enough that Patton released him cautiously, taking a step away.

“But,” Virgil said. “I’m an assassin.”

“Yes,” Father said. “I could tell by how that fight just went.”

Virgil shifted his weight. “I came here to kill you.”

His father spread his arms wide. “Yet, here I am,” he pointed out. “You’ve had me alone multiple times including once in a secret room possibly no one would have ever found. Plus, you saved me today. I think that more than makes up for the intentions you had months ago.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to send me to prison?” Virgil asked. “Or execute me?”

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“No, of course not,” his father said.

Virgil eyed him, still slightly warry.

“I promise, Virgil, you’re fine.”

“Dad wouldn’t lie,” Logan interjected. Virgil looked over at him and then back at Father. He nodded slowly.

“Good,” Father said. “Now can we get a bit further back from the edge?” He glanced at Patton. “You too, Patton.”

Virgil and Patton both stepped towards him, and he herded them far away from the edge until they were at the edge of the surrounding forest. Logan followed as well.

“Can I touch your face?” Father asked once they were sufficiently away from the cliffs.

Virgil nodded and father pulled out a handkerchief. He carefully wiped the blood off Virgil’s face the best he could (most of it was not Virgil’s) and inspected the boy’s split lip and already bruising eye.

“Is your chest alright?” Father asked.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah.”

Father considered him. “Enough to ride back to the castle.”

“It wasn’t that bad of a hit,” Virgil insisted.

Father studied him for a moment longer. “I’ll choose to believe you for now,” he said. “We should get back to the castle as soon as possible just in case this is not an isolated attack.”

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“We don’t work in teams,” Virgil informed them. “They worry we’d get emotionally attached and not complete our missions.”

“I can understand why they would say something like that,” Father said, letting just a bit of his scorn come through, “but still, we should be on our way.”

With that, he put an arm on Virgil’s back to guide him back towards where they’d left the horses.

“Huh,” Logan said to Patton as they began to walk behind them. “I thought we’d be in more trouble for all of this.”

His father paused at overhearing that, turning to look at them over his shoulder briefly.

“Ah,” said Logan with a grimace. “I see.”

“It’s been nice being your friend all these years Logan,” Patton said solemnly. “Too bad we’re both going to be locked in our rooms for the rest of our lives.”

“Until your 50s with good behavior,” Father informed them blandly.

That was… probably fair. They did allow an assassin to freely roam the castle for months without telling anyone. The fact that his father was now watching that assassin like a hawk to make sure he wasn’t more injured than he was saying, did not change that fact.

Logan couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

Epilogue

“Do you think they’ll light your trees on fire this year?” an amused (but slightly concerned) voice asked from behind Jeffers. Jeffers ran a finger over the empty thumb of his slightly dirty gardening gloves while watching the two boys. They were currently leaning over an unlit lantern and various “supplies.” In truth, he’d stopped his own work to watch the two boys out of that very concern.

“Virgil helped me fertilize that tree a week ago,” Jeffers replied. “So, I’d hope he has some caution.”

“Virgil likes fire though,” Thomas pointed out.

Jeffers sighed. “That he does.” He tilted his head towards Thomas. “You did confiscate the fire knife again after last week, yes?”

“I did,” Thomas confirmed, “but that means very little. Even burying that thing with a corpse did not dissuade him.”

As he spoke, a sudden spark of light flew from where the boys were working. A whining sound and then pop sounded as the spark exploded into 10 pieces, raining down colorful light. Luckily, they burned up before hitting the ground (or the tree).

“Boys, if you set anything on fire, you will be grounded from the festival,” Thomas called in a booming voice. Both boys jumped. Jeffers imagined Logan hadn’t even known he was there. (Virgil certainly did, but he still jumped. “For the second year in a row in Logan’s case.”

“They’re not flammable!” was the claim from Logan.

“I don’t believe you,” Thomas called back.

The boys ignored this, turning back to their experiment.

“We should have kept them grounded,” Thomas muttered. Despite Thomas’s original decision to ground Patton and Logan until their 50s (and Helen’s push to keep them grounded until Thomas, Helen, and Jeffers himself were all dead and couldn’t enforce it anymore), the boys had only been grounded for two months after Thomas had found out the truth of Virgil’s origins. That did, however, mean that Patton and Logan had been grounded from most of the lantern festival the year before.

89280

Logan, at least, seemed to be trying to make up for lost time this year (explosively). Jeffers did worry about where Patton was slightly, but honestly Patton without Logan or Virgil tended to be much less destructive in his hijinx. The worst he was probably doing was stealing sweets out from under Helen’s nose. Which was why both Jeffers and Thomas were currently here watching these two.

There were more sparks from the boy’s experiment. The grass caught fire at their feet. Virgil hastily stomped it out.

“I’ll watch them if you want to get food to bribe Virgil away,” Jeffers offered.

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Squad; in which there are many Holmeses and parenting is a contact sport]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) 20: do-over (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

It's a new week, and John declares on Monday he's certain it's going to be easier than the last one.

What an idiot.

---

By the time they reach Wednesday, they've not been back from hospital twenty-four hours when Sherlock's dear mama orders them onto a train. 

'Mother,' Sherlock hisses into his mobile, glancing across the room to where John is firmly planted on the sofa with his daughter tight in his arms, watching Peppa Pig. 'Rosamund just got out of A&E. We don't want to go down the street, let alone out to a place so far from an adequate hospital that--' 

'Oh, poppycock' 

'I'm sorry?' 

'Now, don't be angry at me, darling. I know you must be frightened to bits for your little girl--' 

Sherlock turns away from the sofa again, chest clenching for the approximately thousandth time in the past two days. 'She's not my little girl,' he says between his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and quiet.

'--but I'm only trying to help.'

Sherlock knows it's one of those times John would be a much better fit for the task at hand. Unfortunately, she's stuck with her son instead. 'Mummy. Clearly, that would not help.'

'You're not planning on feeding her peanuts again, are you?'

Sherlock closes his eyes. 'I won't dignify that with an answer.'

'Then pack an epipen and come see your mother. I want to kiss that baby.'

---

John is doing his best, Sherlock observes once they're gathered round his parents' kitchen table, but he's clearly still feeling scads of parental guilt. He refuses to let Rosamund out of his sight, and his jaw keeps doing that jumpy bit that means he's repressing something. Several somethings, obviously, because he is John Watson.

And Sherlock almost abhors how much he cares for John Watson.

---

His mother, naturally, can't hold back for long. 

'Oh, John, I do hate to see you like this.'

John freezes like the proverbial deer in headlights, then carefully puts down his fork, stiff upper lip firmly in place. 'Thanks, Mrs Holmes, but I'm all right.' 

Sherlock, who knows better, shares a Look with Rosamund, who blurps his name(ish) then happily stuffs more pickle into her mouth. John's face softens momentarily, and she notices. 'Want some, Daddy?'

It's not a question; John is immediately handed a chubby fistful of globby green.

'She not a fan of spoons, then?' Sherlock's father says with a chuckle.

'Only as a weapon,' Sherlock replies without thinking, but luckily it's the correct audience, because beyond an eye roll, the reaction is mostly laughter.

Except for John, Sherlock notices immediately. Oh, dear.

His mother notices, too, and her lips purse. 'John, I know we're all very English, but I'm old enough that I can speak plainly.'

'As if you hadn't already,' Sherlock mutters.

She ignores him, instead reaching out to touch John's right hand where it rests on the table. 'You mustn't punish yourself. You've done nothing wrong.'

John's extreme discomfort would be crystal clear to anyone in a ten mile radius. 'Mrs Holmes…'

'I mean it.'

He puts down his fork, and Sherlock sees him inhale purposefully. 'All due respect, ma'am, but my daughter nearly died. She nearly died because I insisted she eat something she clearly and repeatedly did not want to eat.'

'And?'

John's mouth opens, then shuts, before he speaks again. 'Are you joking?'

'Everyone makes mistakes with their children, dear.'

'Not that sort of mistake.'

She makes a noise close to a ladylike snort, if such a thing existed. 'We almost drowned Sherlock when he was her age.'

Sherlock's front chair legs drop back to the floor with a thunk. 'Beg pardon?'

'Yes, you came frightfully close to dying, it was very unpleasant.'

John's facade breaks enough to give Sherlock a slight smirk. 'And you didn't recognise my facetiousness on that train?'

'Yes, yes, thank you, now what is this about me drowning, Mother?'

'We left you with another child, a girl of maybe twelve.' She shakes her head. 'That poor girl. She's never forgiven herself.'

'But I didn't die!'

'Sherlock,' his mother chides. 'Don't be unkind.'

'Wait. Why didn't I die?'

A curious silence falls over the group. 

Sherlock's chin drops, and he sighs. 'Mycroft.'

His mother nods. 'He was in the deeper end, and you were in the shallow end. Where you were meant to stay.'

John huffs a laugh. 'Right, good luck with that.'

She tuts. 'He's lucky his brother was watching.'

'You don't remember any of it?' John asks, clearly curious.

Sherlock thinks. 'I remember a pool, several pools, from childhood. Various ponds. I remember-- Yes, I think the first time I ventured into the deep end, I blinked and I was at the ladder.'

'Indeed,' his mother says.

'Right,' John says, bemused. 'So you've always hated pools, even before we nearly got blown up in one.'

His mother blinks. 'Beg pardon?'

'Oh don't fret, Mummy.' Sherlock waves a hand. 'It was ages ago.'

And worse things have happened since then, no one needs say.

Except his mother says it, sort of. 'She's going to have such unusual stories to tell,' she says, turning to Rosamund and touching her tiny nose briefly. 'Aren't you, darling?'

'Any hope of a normal childhood was gone long ago, I'm afraid,' John says, his voice only a little strained.

Sherlock's father, unexpectedly, speaks up. 'Perhaps, but what she's got is better.'

'I agree,' his mother says. 'John's normal enough for the three of you, anyway.'

Sherlock smirks privately. Yes, absolutely normal, building-jumping, gun-toting, life-saving John Watson.

As if he'd ever fall in love with "normal."

That's the end of the discussion, apparently, because his mother turns back to Rosamund with a smile. 'Now, precious girl, let's see if you can say "grandmama" yet.' 

---

John, still feeling slightly sour, pulls out his phone once he's put Rosie down. 'Mycroft.' His tone borders on Captainy, but he's too bloody tired to be polite. 'What are you playing at?'

'Couldn't possibly have any idea what you mean, Dr Watson.'

'First my daughter is calling you her uncle, and now your mum is teaching her "grandmama"?'

'I fail to see the problem. She's very intelligent.'

John pinches the bridge of his nose. He can't shout, because Rosie is asleep in her cot next to him, and though Sherlock is outside smoking, Sherlock's parents are somewhere on the other side of the guest room door.

'Your brother,' he finally says lowly, 'cares for Rosie a great deal, but has most definitely not voiced an interest in being her father, nor should he feel obligated to.'

'With all due respect, John, I must disagree.'

'How.' It's not a question.

Mycroft's voice isn't hard, but he enunciates every word very, very clearly. 'She is my niece. If you can't see it, then God help you... Although I am aware my brother has inherited more than his fair share of the Holmes reticence. But,' he concludes, implacable, 'lest you forget: He said it himself. You are family. And therein lies the obligation.' 

John's heart does a little twitch in his chest. 'Yeah, but--'

'No.'

'But--'

'Not to sound too much like my dear brother, but John?'

John exhales. 'Can't wait to hear this.'

'Don't be an idiot.'

'Oi--'

But the call is already over. Of course it is. Because Mycroft Holmes is a bastard.

He might also, maybe, just this once… be right.

[ <3 ]

[pool story lifted from my childhood: I literally remember nothing bad about nearly drowning; my five-years-elder brother saved me and I have loved swimming ever since]

[simtleman]

PASSENGERS TO THE TRAIN! LAST CALL FOR PASSENGERS TO BRINDLETON BAY!

The latest update completely broke my game, it would launch and then get stuck on the loading screen forever... so I had the pleasurable task of uninstalling and reinstalling everything, which no kidding took about four and a half hours considering all the DLCs I have. However, having to wait and not being able to play gave me an opportunity to really think about what I wanted to build next for this crazy 1920s, '30s & '40s Save File Project I'm determined to finish someday, and suddenly it came to me: a train station, duh!

So here it is, introducing Columbia Station, located in the heart of Del Sol Valley:

One of my favorite books ever is Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. I remember reading it for the first time when I was about 7 years old and going to bed absolutely terrified yet wanting to know what was going to happen next, so naturally it has always been a dream of mine to someday be able to book a ticket for the Venice Simplon-Orient-Express. You can imagine how much fun I had building this while living my best film noir fantasy! Plus, I thought having a vintage train station in the save file would make for great storytelling.

The train itself (which I decided to call Grand Express, as you can see in the pics) has two functional wagons:

The first one is a Compartment coach, with three identical compartments. For the interiors in both wagons I mostly used @lilis-palace's Intarsia Moderne & Wainscot Wonderland sets. That varnished wood kinda look was absolutely perfect for what I had in mind:

2. The second wagon, on the other hand, couldn't be anything but a bar. Featuring @littledica's Art Deco Lounge bar as the signature piece, I took inspiration yet again from the actual Orient Express bar and decided to go for colder, blue tones:

I'm far from being done with this build, but I simply couldn't hold my excitement and had to show you guys how it's going. Next it'll be the station itself, I've build the exterior but gotta work on the interiors... I wanna set the lot as a Café so we shall see how that turns out!

I'll keep you guys posted and until then, pray for my game to not break again! Lol

[thelovelymachinery]

1, 5, 7, and 30 :)))

for the ask game, twerp 👾

1. Who was your first Oc ever?

My first Oc was my lovely Pandora, I love her so unbelievably much. I literally can't wait to introduce her but she currently isn't born and will be three years old at the end of Whitehall. I made her when I was around five, I originally had her as one of my only purple haired dolls that I adored, I made her design on the doll with marker. Poor girl went from purple hair to having purple hair and actually decent looking black bangs. She later got the first chapter of her book when I was thirteen.

I still use Pandora and love her with all of my heart. She hasn't actually evolved much over the years, all that changed is she's now a half Anadis and her story is now in a fantasy plot instead of it being a fictional historical story with humans and no magic.

5. What are some of your oc's biggest fears?

All of the Whitehall kids are terrified of whispering due to the fact that the Teachers and Producers would only whisper when a student was about to get sent to the basement.

On a funnier note Pandora is deathly afraid of Watermelon, beans, and pease because she is severely allergic. Funny story her allergies are why she hates her mother for the first three or four years of her life lol

7. What are your favourite relationships between your oc's? (Platonic or romantic)

My favourite romantic relationship by far is Aurelia and Aereth. They're so pure and in love. They fill out what the other lacks in, they protect eachother, love eachother, and not only would they die for eachother but they'd do the much harder task which is live for eachother.

My favourite platonic relationship is Amisha Erinesa and Doramia from Survivors, Pandora and Mrs. Margaret from The Queens Blessed Daugther, or Delilah and the other students from Whitehall School For The Impeccable. These friendships are all very pure and love filled, not only would they give the clothing off their backs to eachother but they'd take their own skin off their backs to help the other.

Margaret stepped up to raise Pandora after her parents deaths and loved her as much as a mother would've.

Doramia saved Amisha from GK's wrath and abuse. She saved her bestfriend and helped her rise, grow and did everything for her.

Delilah was the best big sister to all of the Whitehall kids, she did all she could to save them from the pain Whitehall put her through.

30. How are you?

I'm wonderful, thank you. How are you?

I don't think I'm going to tag my taglist, if you think I should tell me and I will

[theartofdreaming1]

Fanfic Tagging Game

I got tagged by the lovely @wurzelbertzwerg - thank you! 💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3? - 30

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

111,591 words (at the moment)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I'm writing for The Quarry and the Batfam fandom (primarily DickBabs and BatCat)... I have posted fics for The Flash TV series and Brooklyn 99 on AO3 in the past... plus, some other stuff that is only on my old fanfiction.net account (although I've been considering updating my old Young Justice fics, so I may post them on AO3 some day)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Um, Rush Hour, Partners, Knight in Shining Armor, Loveable Nerds and Superheroes and Thank You, Becky Cooper - except for Partners, these are all Flash fics, which is wild, because aside from Rush Hour and Loveable Nerds and Superheroes, both of which I'm still quite proud of, I don't necessarily think that my Flash fics are my best works, but okay ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

5. Do you respond to comments?

Sometimes? I often don't know what to say in response 😅- but I appreciate every single one of them sooo much! 💕

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Okay... so this question prompted me to do some re-reading of my older fics... and honestly? Nothing on my AO3 account had an angsty ending to begin with ^^; So I had to go waaaay back, to my old ff.net account - and I think my Young Justice fic "Pain" had the angstiest ending (and even then, it's pretty moderate... even 17-year-old me was fairly mellow ;)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmmh... Maybe my Flash fic "Coming Home"? It certainly has a very warm and fuzzy ending ☺️

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I can recall, no...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope; smut is not for me

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No, I don't really write crossovers (only multiple fandoms that already share a universe, i.e. Batfam-comic fandom)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope - since I'm a very slow writer, I wouldn't want to punish any potential co-writer of mine with that curse either...

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

To write? Hmmh... BatCat and DickBabs for sure! (Plus, LauraMax are getting there, too... I just need to give them some time to cement their position ;)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh boy, there are plenty of fics I'm worried I'll never finish... but I choose to stay optimistic enough to think that I will, someday, finish all the WIPs that I want to finish... (please, writing Gods, please help me accomplish this task!!!!)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Umm... I like to think that my writing is quite, um, pleasant? What I mean is, that it's pretty accessible (not too convoluted or complex, but also not boring) and while I sometimes write angsty/tense/sad moments, my stories generally have happy endings... And even though my writing isn't exactly groundbreaking, I still stand by all the ideas/concepts behind every story I've written so far, so... yeah...

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

The process of writing itself (I have to fight for every single word I commit onto the page... I swear, me and writing are engaged in the most tedious wrestling match nobody ever wants to see... ever). I get excited for a particular story, start to jot down some basic ideas, maybe even put in some research for a few points that need to get tackled beforehand - and then psyche myself out of being able to write down that dang story 😩 (Doesn't help that I have a hard time making decisions and get super intimidated when faced with all the possible directions a story could go)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Depends on the context - if we're talking about two foreigners (e.g. Germans) that are talking to each other in their native tongue and maybe don't want to be understood by the people around them (who, for the sake of this argument, are all English speakers) - then, maybe I would give it a whirl, because it would fit the idea behind the conversation (especially if it's a short exchange that people, who would be interested in learning what the Germans said, could look up via Google translate) - but, imo, this only works in very specific circumstances and for short exchanges - otherwise it can get tedious real quick... and personally, I don't like writing in German and don't feel confident enough in my Spanish skills to attempt it for that language, so writing English all the way is it for me

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Um... a quick look at my old, old fanfiction.net account tells me that my first posted fanfic was for the "Sonny With A Chance" fandom when I was 14 years old - the writing is a little... rough, for sure 😅 (although, to be fair, this was written at a point when I had only had, like, 3-4 years of proper English class... all things considered, it's not that bad)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Don't make me choose, I can't pick just one!

I very, very much love my BatCat fic "The Chase" - it just feels like pure Selina, the pacing of it is great and I think it portrays Bruce/Selina's relationship dynamic so very well (plus, it has some of my favorite sentences I've ever written in there!)

I also love Partners for being the longest, most ambitious story I've written so far (yes, despite the fact that I still need to add that epiogue!) and On the Reciprocal Attraction of Heavenly Bodies has the potential to become my best fic of them all, with the Austen-esque writing style and all the historical and literary research I plan on putting into it... I'm certainly very fond of the two chapters that already exist.

And This Is Not Over, But Just the Beginning is so fun and challenging in a different way; being a Quarry fic, with the whole werewolf element, it's darker and more angsty than anything I've written in a long time - but that's what makes it so fascinating for me to write (and read)

I'll tag @queenofbaws @thychesters @rosegardeninwinter @icequeen-07 @clearbluewaters and @mollywog - only if they want to, of course! :)

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (I.7)

VII. Matches

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: You resumed the semester at Hogwarts

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, other things, pretty tame so far, might miss some warning but I think you know what this is about… 

Wordcount: 1.9 k 

Notes: I'm already writing thongs for the fourth year and what’s to come, I’m excited for you all to read it! jeje anyways these are like filler chapters

You had mixed feelings when you found yourself back in the hallways of Hogwarts, on one side, it was a school, there were classes and assignments, but on the other, it was Hogwarts! It was amazing! 

You resumed your classes with normalcy, but it wasn’t until after the first class of potions that you truly started feeling nervous again, of being caught by Snape even if you weren’t doing anything. It was like when you come face to face with an Auror, you weren’t doing anything, but you felt incredibly nervous regardless, he could grab you and throw you into Azkaban, that is what it felt like to be in classes with Professor Snape.

But you kept enjoying the rest of your lessons, like History of Magic, (that made everyone snooze) and Defense against the dark arts. Weeks went by amazingly fast, and before you even realized it… it was already February, and another very interesting thing was about to happen… 

It was a Ravenclaw VS Slytherin match! the second match of Slytherin and the third in the season! 

Draco, Blaise and you loved to see the matches, but the rest of your group didn’t care much for them. But you still made them attend with you.

The vibe was completely different from the first match against Gryffindor, it was Ravenclaw that they were playing against, and watching them flying in perfect lining was a bit boring, but… the Slytherin played playfully and tauntingly, making the Ravenclaws scratch their heads constantly

When they scored 30 points your throat was raw by the screaming you were procuring, and it didn’t help that you found Terence Higgs to be really cute, making your cheeks feel heated despite the cold. 

“I have my eye out for the captain though”, giggled Pansy, you frowned, Flint was a good player, but he was a bit… unfortunate looking… but you could see the appeal as you saw him flying through the air. The Quidditch uniform certainly added some appeal you thought gleefully 

He searched for you after scoring and waved at you, making Pansy clutch into your arm giggling in your ear

In half time you were winning by 50 points, and Draco wouldn’t shut up about beating Gryffindor for the Quidditch cup, you still had another game with Hufflepuff, you could still win!

The plays you had helped design were actually working! and they started again scoring and scoring, Given, the Ravenclaws also scored a couple of goals, but it was all over anyways when Terence Higgs caught the snitch, making you giggle and smile dumbly.

He was a third year? second year maybe… with blonde hair and big blue eyes. 

There was a party in the common room after the match! all of Slytherin was there, chanting and applauding for our winning team, who of course, were the stars of the celebration

“Next year, those are going to be us”, promised Draco with a smirk, and you couldn’t be more excited, as you jumped and chanted Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin! It was so electric! the atmosphere! 

You were enchanted.

But all good things must come to an end, as that day, and the weeks continued as normal

You hang out in the library with your friends, Daph, Draco, Goyle, and Matthew, working for an assignment for History in Magic, you had to choose a famous Wizard or Witch from the middle ages to do some work in, Daphne and you of course chose Morgan Le Fay. 

The boys though, chose instead to take another book, not even remotely related to the task in hand… it was a small book they found regarding mischievous spells, more than jokes and the sorts

“Look!”, Draco giggled, “the leg-locker spell!” 

“That’s a good one”, laughed Matthew, you thought it was going to end in that, but then, Neville showed up, picking a book probably related to the same assignment

“Don’t”, you warned your best friend, almost reading his mind. But he didn’t listen, he, Matt and Greg followed Longbottom outside of the library where Mrs Pince wouldn’t see them

And they cursed him

Poor Neville had to bunny jump away, scared, as Draco came back to his spot, laughing

You looked at him disapprovingly

“Did you see how he just jumped away?”, Matthew laughed, “a good spell that is!”

“I don’t know why you have Neville so much”, you mumbled, but he didn't answer

“You are so mean”, muttered Daphne, but you both sharing looks decided to keep working in your assignment, it was supposed to be you 5 doing it, but you were doing all the job as they played and mocked

But Draco had a change of heart, and grabbed one of the books you had selected

“I don’t know why we went for Morgan and not Merlin”, he said, bored

“That is what happens when you don’t help in the process”, you warned, and he nodded and shrugged, “please search her date of birth”, you asked, “Daphne and I are searching her best accomplishments”

“Sure”, but Gregory and Matthew kept playing jokes and mocking Ravenclaws passing by.

The very next month, a few weeks later, you were in the Quidditch pitch yet again, but this time, to watch the Gryffindor VS Hufflepuff game, you wanted to make sure Gryffindor lost, or really, you wanted to see it with your own eyes, and the tactics they were going to use, and also the Hufflepuff’s, Slytherin’s last game of the year in three more months.

You could not convince any of your friends except Greg and Vince, and of course Draco was there too.

And to more of your dismay, you got seats in the Gryffindor box, behind Weasley and Longbottom, Potter’s biggest fans. 

Draco couldn’t help it, it came to him naturally. As you tried to focus on the game, he was focus more on the conversation happening in front of him. 

Ron whined in pain as Draco had poked him to get his attention

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there", he teased, you only rolled your eyes at this, trying to focus on the game. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

But Weaslet didn’t answer, he just kept watching the game, and you too, to your surprise, Snape was referring, you had never seen him doing that before, and you guessed that’s why the redhead looked so worried, almost constipated.

Your headteacher hated Harry, even more so than Draco, and everyone could see it, especially in the Potions class you shared with the Gryffindors.

But as you thought about it, he threw a penalty at Gryffindor, after one of the Weasley twins tried to him him with a bludger, but that had been a blatant fault. Granger standing right in front of you, looked worried too, and wouldn’t take her eyes off of the Professor, rather than looking at her friend.

It was easy to spot Potter, who had spotted the snitch and started pursuit. You cursed yourself for being distracted, you needed to be watching the Hufflepuffs and their strategies, but it was becoming an interesting game

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?", Draco asked you then, you barely looked at him, trying to predict which hoop the Hufflepuff keeper was going to try and protect next.

But Snape blew his whistle again and threw another penalty in favor of the Yellow and Black team, that made you smile, because there was no cause for it.

"It's people they feel sorry for”, he continued after nobody asked him what was on his mind, “see? there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money -- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.", Goyle snorted a laugh, even though it was a little mean

But Neville, in front of you, turned around, with a strange determined look on his big green eyes, he turned to Draco

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered. you opened your mouth, surprised, but you were happy for him, clearly his Gryffindor friends were egging him on and you admired that.

But Draco found it even more entertaining, as he and Crabbe, and Goyle started laughing. Weasley barely paid attention to his friend’s bravado, as he muttered a simple: "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something”, alright, you had to admit you laughed then, Draco’s answers where always so quick, it seemed like he prepared them beforehand 

Ron Weasley, who was watching Potter like a Hawk, turned then, very angry

"I'm warning you, Malfoy… one more word…”, he started his threat

"Ron!" called Granger suddenly. You followed her gaze and Potter went into a quick dive, chasing the snitch, even though you couldn’t see it

The crowd started cheering, everyone standing up and calling for Harry 

Granger stood up too, blocking your view of the…biased-speaking spectacular play that Potter was executing.

He was good, you had to admit… but you wouldn’t, not outloud 

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

That is when the Weasley turned angrily, and before nobody could stop him, he grabbed Draco and threw him against the wood planks in the floor of the box. They started wrestling. Longbottom jumped over the seat to help his friend 

You only took a step back as you wished to keep watching the game, and you were getting tired of Draco bullying everyone 

"Come on, Harry!" Granger screamed, moving so much that you had to do contortions to watch around her

You both remained oblivious to Draco and Weasley, wrestling on the floor. But you did payed attention when Neville whimpered, he had gotten in a scuffle with Goyle and Crabbe. it was a knot of fists and legs, it was almost chemical.

You thanked Merlin that there wasn’t any teacher present, or you would be punished. 

But fortunately they were interrupted, when Snape blowed the whistle, indicating that the snitch had been caught, by none other than Potter

It was the shortest game ever! like ten minutes or so, it must be some sort of record

You saw the black haired boy, his hand clasping the snitch raised up high

He was good alright… 

Everyone cheered for him, the stadium erupted in chants and cheers and applause.

Now, you would admit that you felt a little jealous, you wondered what it would feel like, to be a Quidditch star, and you really wished you could see what it was about, next year if you managed to get into the team.

 leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape -- she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Draco had lost the squaffle and the Gryffindors had won, so he was not happy at all, as he stood up from the floor and managed to see Potter being raised in the air by his teammates, and you in turn were preparing yourself for another rant about Potter.

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 34

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

Janais stands. "Come. It is time for bed. The hour is late. I shall call what residents are left here and we shall all return to the Reach. There we can plan our next steps."

"We?" I look up at Janais. She looks down her nose back at me.

"I may not be Empress anymore, but I am still a Builder. You only have what... 5 Builders in total now?"

"4 Actually."

"Oh, That's right, your prisoner is not yet a Builder."

Yet?

Raaden crosses her arms and makes a face.

"Regardless, you need all the help you can get. I shall come with you and remain a Builder and assist you in your task."

"My task?"

Janais looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Rebuilding the Empire and ruling it as is your right. You need people, you need starships, you need Builders. It is a large task, but not an impossible one. It's been done before, it can be done again."

"Wait, wait, what does this mean? Am I going to have to go out and... conquer everyone?"

Raaden sighs. "We've been over this, Empress. They're not going to see a human that can use a Commanding Voice to make anyone who is around her do anything she wants as a friend. If you want to survive, the only option is at the top."

Janais nods. "Your prisoner is wise. You should make her a Builder. She would be an excellent commander of your fleets."

Both Raaden and I blink. "What? No. I can't be Fleet Commander here. For one, there's no fleet. For two, I'm from Venus. For three, MmEmpress would never allow it. I tried to take over here."

"And you failed, but yet you live. The Empress sees value in your still. She hasn't ordered your death, she hasn't even commanded your silence. She listens when you speak, even when you tell her things she doesn't want to hear. You are more valuable than you realize Helen Raaden."

I look over at her. Maybe Janais has a point. It would have been so easy just to order her to be quiet. But, she has experience, she is very intelligent. It would be stupid to throw away such a resource. Is it really just that she was on the wrong side all this time? She is incredibly ruthless.

We could use ruthless.

Ugh. This is going to cause trouble down the line, I just know it.

"Y̸̰̚õ̶̱u̴͚͛ ̸̢̌m̸̜̎a̴̢̎y̴͇͊ ̶͇̈́c̶̩̐ą̶͘l̸̙̓l̶̙̍ ̶̮̽m̵̝̊e̴̼̋ ̵̖͋M̵̟͝e̶̻̿l̴̯̅o̷̱̽d̷̹͆y̵̹͋.̴̻̑ Raaden."

Raaden snaps her head over to me and looks at me, eyes wide. "Why did you do that... Melody?"

Ava looks at me flabbergasted. "Yes, why did you do that Melody?

"Let's say that... you've earned it."

Raaden nods. "I did notice that you stopped calling me Helen after interviewing the crew. Who told you I hated that name?"

"Ginny did."

Raaden smiles gently. "Ginny is more observant than she lets on, good girl. It's not that I hate my name, I hate fake casualness. I hate when people use my first name to try and be friendly, when I don't want to be their friend and they really don't want to be mine." Raaden stood and stretched, and held out her hand. "Let's try this again. My name is Helen Raaden. Nice to meet you."

I stand and grasp the hand. "Melody Mullen. Nice to meet you too."

Omar gets up from his chair and starts walking around the room. "Okay, now that we're all best buds here, we need to figure out what we're doing. We're going to sleep here tonight, and tomorrow take everyone home? Empress Janais, how many people are left here exactly?"

Janais holds up a finger. "Builder Janais now. The only Empress here is Melody."

"Okay fine. Builder Janais, how many people are left here?"

Janais closes her eyes and for a moment looks far away. Do I look like that when I'm connecting to the Reach? Her head tips forward just a bit and her eyes snap open. "There are one hundred and twenty three people that I can feel. I think that's everyone."

"Call them here please. It may take most of the night to get them loaded safely. Tell them to bring only what they can carry. If there are precious things, we can leave them and come back. We're moving, not fleeing."

"Of course, Builder Omar." Janais closes her eyes again. "They have heard my call. They will be here shortly. Come with me, I will meet them with you and we can begin loading."

She stands and strides out of the room. Omar looks at me questioningly. I shrug. "Sure, go ahead." I appreciate him making sure I'm okay with it, but I can't think of a reason for him not to follow her lead. Omar shrugs too and hurries after her.

Starlight stands as well. "I will head back to High Line. I... am not comfortable here, I will sleep in my cabin. Good night Empress, Ava, Raaden."

Starlight walks out of the palace and it's just me, Ava and Raaden sitting at the table, alone.

Ava goes first. "Okay Raaden. It's just you and me and Melody. Why the hell are you with Venus? You know that everyone else in the galaxy thinks they're fascist assholes right? It's not a surprise?"

Helen looks down at the table. She then looks back up at Ava. "Venus is where I'm from Ava. I was raised in Regantown, I did ROTC at VPI, signed on right after graduation, majored in Leadership, the works. I've been steered towards the military from an early age. Most upper class Venusians are."

Huh, These are all things about Raaden I never knew. "Are you from a military family... Helen?"

She smiles slightly when I use her name. "Actually yes. My Dad was Rear Admiral Klein Raaden. He served for many years as part of the Inner Planet Defense Force, the IPDF. They handled the defense of the Mercury Array, Venus and Luna. Earth had their own force of course, and then from Mars out was the OPA. Dad was retired when Venus... struck out on their own. I remember being about 13 and Dad getting called back up to "serve his homeland." He... didn't think much of the Emperor at the time, or their ideals, especially around AIs. Dad had worked with and served with AIs for years. He thought AIs were fine and were probably the reason we were so successful with interstellar flight. But-" she pantomimed a salute, "-he was called to serve, and he did. Served until his dreadnought Redemption Arc was sabotaged by an OPA operative and crashed into the floating city Lavinia, destroying both. They sank into the atmosphere and lost all hands. Over one million people died."

My eyes go wide with recognition. "So your ship..."

"Was named for the incident that took my Dad, yeah." She gave me a wan smile and looked at both of us. "I was incredibly proud when I was given command of the Lavinia. It was only my second command. Nobody gets a dreadnought for their second command, that's usually an end of career thing. But 'the daughter of Klein knows what's she's doing' and so it was given to me."

"But all the anti AI rhetoric! They're sapient, have been for more than a thousand years. You must have known that stuff would have made you unpopular." Ava sounds conflicted. I wonder if she's trying to come to terms with the fact that Helen is... a person with good parts and bad parts and not just an attractive woman in a sharp uniform who she can just be labeled "bad guy" and stuck over in a corner.

She shrugged. "Well sure. That's for the folks at home. The AIs don't go to Sol much anymore. That makes it easier to make them out to be an enemy. Give the people a bad guy, and they concentrate on them and... less on you. Or the fact that Venus keeps losing ships and not getting more. They don't notice we've tried to take the Heinlein shipyards in the Earth L2 point three times now and failed every time. They don't notice how our trade deficit is eye watering. We are not self sufficient, not by a long shot. If everyone cuts off trade, we die, it's that simple."

"It's propaganda?"

"Mostly, yeah. Don't get me wrong, the Emperor hates AIs. He is absolutely convinced that they're behind every corner and are all actively plotting to overthrow him."

Okay, my turn. "What do you think about AIs, Helen?"

Her shoulders rolled gently. "I tend not to. I don't work with them, I don't interact with them. Other than the propaganda, I don't know much about them. I do worry that they'll decide we're just not worth the effort and try and take over, but the thought doesn't keep me up at night."

Raaden leans forward intently. "But what about you Melody? What do you think of them? An AI declared your captain unfit if I am remembering your story to Janais correctly. The AI, now in charge, left you here. An AI abandoned you to your fate."

I'm taken aback. "I-I-I mean, she was thinking of the mission and..."

"And what Melody? You just said that she didn't continue the mission. She went home."

Ava raises her eyebrows, surprised at herself. "Raaden... is right Melody. FarReach was scared of you. She only gave us a few minutes to grab our things. Omar and Um'reli came with me because their minds were already made up. Nobody else who was unsure got time to think about it. FarReach locked Q'ari in her cabin, declared her unfit and left."

Raaden sat back. "Sounds like you have your own reasons to not particularly care about AIs Melody."

I sigh. It feels like Ava and Helen are right, but it also feels wrong to agree with them. "It doesn't matter anywhere. There are no AIs on this side of the galaxy."

Ava gestured with her teacup. "You heard Janais, we might be all that's left on this side. We should go to the other locations she knew and see if anyone is there. If there isn't, then... well the other side of the Galaxy is where the action is." Ava looked worried. "Melody, I don't want to lose you. If the only way that you can ensure that you won't catch a sniper's bullet is to be in charge... then be in charge. I can think of worse people to rule."

"Easily" Raaden agreed. "Frankly Melody, if you're half the ruler I think you are, you'll be the best ruler that anyone alive has ever seen."

"Thanks Ava, Helen... I think. You really think I'd be a good ruler?"

Ava nods emphatically. "You're ruling over the Reach now and are doing great. Do you remember how nervous everyone was when we first showed up? Now they cheer you, and tell you about their families when we go for a walk and say hi."

"Believe me when I say, I've known Emperors Melody." Raaden looks around for something to drink, finds her tea and sniffs it. "You're a better ruler than any Emperor I know." She tosses her tea back. "Come on, I don't feel like sleeping in this mausoleum. Let's go back to High Line and sleep. We can make sure everyone is loaded up and leave tomorrow."

We stand and leave Janais' Palace for the last time.

Ava and I have a comfortable night in our cabin. It's not our rooms in the Royal Dawn, but Omar has really made an effort to make our cabin seem homey. I appreciate it. In the morning I left my cabin and almost ran into an Azurian standing in the hall. "Oh, I'm sorry, excuse me."

The Azurian looked up at me and stepped aside. "Empress."

I made my way down the hall to the Command Deck squeezing past people here and there. Thankfully, when I got there, the only people inside were Ava, Starlight and Janais. "Where's Raaden?" I walked up to Ava and bent down and gave her a hug while she was seated at a station.

"She said it was too cramped, and was going to stay in her room." Ava returned the hug quickly, but then bent back down to her terminal.

Starlight looked up at me. "Empress, this is going to be an unpleasant flight. High Line is overloaded as it is. We should get going quickly."

"Good idea Starlight. Omar, how soon can we go?"

"We're ready now. Ginny and I just finished loading everyone. It's tight, but we can do it in one trip. Actually..."

"Yes Omar?"

"Since things are so tight, and nobody wants to be onboard any longer than necessary do you want to give the wormhole generator a spin and link over?"

"Do we have the power for it?"

"Ginny says we have more than enough for a link of that distance. We could clear the Wilds and link over to the Reach in minutes."

"Okay then. I approve linking from here to Reach of the Might of Vzzx."

"Excellent. I'll let you know when we're ready for you to order it. Maybe another hour."

"We're going to use a wormhole generator?" Janais looks nervous.

Ava looks up. "They're common on our side of the Galaxy, we're using an existing design. It should be no big deal."

She is clearly trying not to look as nervous as she feels. "Then I defer to your judgement, Builder."

I spent the hour on the Command Deck. It was the only place I could have more than a meter on either side of me without risking bumping into someone. As we cruised between the Wilds and the Gate Omar came over the PA. "We have reached safe distance from the Wilds of Besmara. Empress, we can link to Reach of the Might of Vzzx on your order."

"Omar, please link us home."

"Aye Empress."

And... that was that. It was like any wormhole link back home. There was a flash of white, and we were back in the system that housed Reach of the Might of Vzzx. I let out he breath that I didn't know I was holding and...

I heard the screaming.

"What's going on? Omar?"

"It sounds like it's coming from the people from the Wilds. None of them have ever taken a wormhole link before. We forgot to tell them about the side effects."

The side effects.

When humanity developed the wormhole generators, it was discovered that about one in one hundred (now one in one thousand thanks to further refinement of the technology) for lack of a better word dies when we link.

It's not permanent at least. But those people swear they died and visited the afterlife. Usually only for a few moments, but enough people do it that it has opened up all kinds of new theological arguments that people thought were closed and gone millennia ago. It doesn't happen to me, or anyone I know, but from what I understand even when you're expecting it to happen, it can be a shock.

I look over to Janais and... she has tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Janais! Are you all right?" I rush to her side.

She turns and looks at me, wild eyed. "I saw her Empress! I saw my Aeche! She was wearing a beautiful gown and when she noticed me she smiled like a dawning star and walked towards me." Janais looked into the middle distance and continued. "She said "You have done it, just like I knew you would!" I said "Done what?" and she smiled and said "Found our salvation." and then I came back here." She chokes back a sob. "Tell me. Tell me Empress. What did I see? Did I see my Aeche waiting for me, or was is all a hallucination? Did I go to the Beyond, or was it a dream?"

I gently touch her hand. It's warm and soft in mine. "Janais... nobody knows. About one in one thousand people experiences what you just experienced. Nobody has ever been able to confirm if your soul really leaves your body, of if it's just some kind of... mirage. A side-effect of going through a hole in spacetime. People who... experience it have tried asking the people they meet, and they always get a cryptic answer, if they get one at all. In the end, everyone must decide for themselves if it's real or not."

Janais looks at me strangely. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a small handkerchief and wipes her eyes delicately. "Thank you Empress."

What? "You're welcome, but why?"

"You have enabled me to see my love again. I do not know if it is real or not, and right now I do not care. I got to see Aeche again, and she as so happy, so beautiful. If I have to wait seventy four years to see her again, it will still all be worth it." She wipes her eyes again and looks at the forward screen. "Is that the Reach?"

"It is, Janais. Shall we go home?"

She exhales, relieved. It was real. "Yes, Empress. I would like to go home. Let's build you an Empire."

Part 35

[nazmazh]

Well, I'll say one thing - Pokemon Go making me activate my video game grind mentality at least meant I made myself go for a walk

(well, several laps around the basement. I probably should have done my driveway loop earlier in the day, but it's dark now)

Basically, there's a "Masterwork Research" Quest Line, full of long, pain-in-the-ass quests. Most will finish eventually. It'll take me a long time to hatch 20 eggs, catch 500 Pokemon, and make 50 excellent throws.

But, statistically, they'll happen eventually

The "Visit Pokestops on 7 Different Days" one will be probably take some time, because I'm out in the middle of nowhere, but eventually, I'll get it done.

Being a rural player is kind of a pain for this, honestly - Back when I was in Airdrie, the park behind my house was a stop, so I could ping it from my desk. Same thing back when I was in Edmonton; there was the convenience store stop across the street to the north, and the dorm building across the street to the east, not to mention that from my office on campus I could reach several, and getting more meant just taking a quick stroll to stretch my legs.

Anyway - The only one in this set of tasks that required actual planning was "Catch 75 Pokemon in One Day"

The big obstacle there is that you need to have at least 75 pokeballs. More, most likely, because you're probably not gonna catch with every throw. Again, being rural and not having access to many convenient stops, my stocks of supplies usually run fairly low.

But, as luck would have it, I ended up finally being able to progress a bunch of "Beat Team Rocket" quests that had piled up, because I've finally got some mons that can actually take down the leaders' overpowered teams [I haven't really gotten tons of overpowered mons from raids or anything. In fact, earlier this month was the first time I managed to snag a raid participation while heading through town, which is what progressed all those quests to a stage I could actually do with my usual routine]

This meant that I had like, 5 or 6 quests to beat Giovanni ready to go, and I managed to just drag myself across the finish line on that one with a C-Team in the morning before going to bed [Shout-out to my Passimian for taking down his Persian, the big MVP, my Crustle, for taking out his Crobat (which had a Dark-type attack, meaning my Psychic mons couldn't safely fight it), and my Durant for bringing it home against his Cresselia. Bug-Types for the win?]

So, beating Giovanni got me a ton of items and a bunch of Pokemon encounters Meaning, this morning before going to bed, I had like 30 captures, and a ton of Pokeballs (ultra balls, even), so I figured now was a good day to push for the quest

I would have done more on it earlier, but we had company pop in Anyway, I had a bunch of incense in my inventory and read on how it worked. Apparently, one bonus Pokemon spawn every 5 minutes if you're stationary, one every minute or 200 meters if you're moving. So, I figured I'd make myself do some walking around to guarantee enough spawns to finish up

As a bonus, this meant my current egg hatched (Shiny Hisuian Growlithe, of all things!) And this finished another quest Which led to a bunch of "Pokemon Encounter" rewards Culminating with a guaranteed Celebi catch reward And as a capper, my Celebi spawned as a shiny! {Maybe it's guaranteed to spawn as shiny? The quest was called "Distracted by Something Shiny", after all]

But yes, now, the rest of the quests are inevitable. The one I actually had to actively work towards is done!

And I got a 20 minute walk in, which is never a bad thing.

Yay, exploitative video game mechanics…?

(I'm glad it was a guaranteed-to-catch thing, because the little fucker kept hopping around, and spawned far enough back on-screen that it was a major pain in the butt to actually hit with a Pokeball, so I probably would have burned all my stock trying to get it otherwise)

[romaine2424]

Daily Blog June 30, 2023

Big arse Sigh. My daughter and her boyfriend have Covid. It's her first time. They are quarantined upstairs. I had it over a year ago and do not want a repeat performance. Fingers crossed they get through it okay. In the meantime, windows are open, fans are on, and I have two air purifiers turned on. Also have a stash of N95 masks, hand sanitizer, medicines, thermometer, Covid antigen tests, and oximeter. *Rom is prepared*

What I'm reading:

Almost done with The Ordeal of Being Known!

Tumblr Interesting Posts

As today is the last day of Pride month, I wanted to highlight a series that @thedrarrylibrarian has been posting called Happy Pride. Here's the premise as stated: Several people have been kind enough to let me publish their thoughts on fandom, community, and queerness to celebrate Pride in the Library.

I think there is seven so far and they're just lovely and so heartfelt. You can read all 7 by using the tag: #Pride in the Library.  

I'm going to be posting more about @thedrarrylibrarian as a Drarry resource soon!

2. There's posts and comments floating around about doing a blackout for Disability Month, which is for the month of July. I will be posting. And I think this post by @intothedysphoria explains it best.

Tumblr Drarry Fic/Art Resources:

Okay this is something AO3 users should look into. It's a Fanworks Permission Statement Builder by @flamingwell. This would be put in your AO3 profile and maybe in the notes for your stories. The following is from the post in case you're not quite sure what a permission statement is: A fanworks permission statement (also known as a blanket permission statement or transformative works permission statement) is very simple: it's something you post in a publically-visible place (usually your AO3 profile) that tells other fan creators what you are and aren't okay with in terms of other people making fanworks based off your stuff. It can be as simple as a sentence or two, or as complicated as you want to communicate your preferences clearly.

Now, I haven't used this yet but it's high on my ToDo list! I'll let you know how it goes when task is accomplished.

Okay, that's all I have for today because I am still writing! Usually, I'm poking a stick at my muse but right now my muse thinks its cute by chasing a fluffle of plot bunnies.

SCOTUS is a Dumpster Fire!

Rom

[frozenoj]

Disability Approved Side Hustles

I've been planning on making a video/tiktok series about this for like two months—but, you know, disabled—so maybe I'll update it to be fancier later. Who knows?

Note: None of these are going to make you enough to live on, either together or separately, but sometimes every little bit counts!

Bridge Money - referral code TWSCBQ

This is the simplest/easiest of my suggestions. Watch up to 25 ads a day for 1 cent each. Yeah, I know that's only like $7 a month if you remember most days. But it's so easy to do while doing almost anything else (that let's you use a hand for a sec every 30 secs or so) that it's just $7 you're leaving on the table if you don't do it.

You also get 2 cents cash back for purchases if you link a card. They have random offers for $4 if you do x thing, games you earn 1 cent a minute for playing, etc. But I mainly just get my 25 cents each day.

Please use a referral code, either mine or someone else's, because both people get $1!

Mistplay - referral in link (android only)

This is the main one I use. You play games on an android device and earn units you can then buy giftcards with. This is good if on SSI because it doesn't go to your bank account! But it does have paypal as an option if that's not a concern. I've earned over $400 so far, and someone more dedicated could have earned more in the same time frame. (I don't want to burn out.)

The best strategy is to play games that have the most "speed" bubbles first, and up to checkpoint 5, then switch games. Find one "loyalty game" that gives 4 gems per $1 and spend $2 to get to silver status (should last two months). DO NOT UNINSTAL THAT GAME! As long as you're actively using the app, you'll make the $2 back from the bonuses. Sometimes you'll get a "Daily Task" to get to checkpoint 6+ and depending on the reward it might be worth it then. If a game is boosted to like 8 speed bubbles, it can also be worth it go past checkpoint 5. Use your judgement.

Playwell - don't think it does referrals?

Very similar to Mistplay. If you like playing games on your phone and want to play one Mistplay doesn't have, it might be here. (I refuse to play games for free anymore lol.) I mostly just have it because sometimes I'm able to double dip. Right now I am playing Merge Inn which is a 4 speed bubble game on Mistplay and earns 5k points per 15 minutes on Playwell. I'm going past checkpoint 5 for this one because I'll earn $2 if I get to level 31 in the game through Playwell plus the time based rewards. And I just like merging games.

Swagbucks - referral in link

Swagbucks has a ton of stuff. I would suggest you actually look up a post specific to that to see all the options because it's like surveys, receipts, offer walls, coupons, just... a lot.

But like Mistplay and Playwell it also does games. And like Playwell you can also sometimes double dip! So I'll check there and see if they have an offer for games that have higher speed bubbles on Mistplay. Some of the offers are really hard and time consuming so def look into it first, though. You can often find guides on reddit for getting them done on time.

Atlas Earth - referral code BAMSSE

This is going to seem like a scam at first. I actually had it downloaded for a few weeks, thought it was too much effort for too little return, stopped using it, and then changed my mind. It has a sort of snowball effect so at the beginning you'll make basically nothing—fractions of a cent kinda nothing—but over time have the potential to make a few hundred bucks a year.

At the beginning it is more important to be hard core about it. I had a timer set every 20 minutes for a while lol. Now, I'm a bit more lax. If I kept up the timer I could increase my earnings faster but again, don't want to burn out. I'm at the point now where I'll make about $5 a month as long as I get on every 5-6 hours for a couple minutes.

This is another one where you need to use a referral code, even if not mine! You get 200 "atlas bucks" for free after buying your 10th plot of land as long as you use a referral code before buying I think your second. I really regret not using a code myself!

Upside - referral TASHA43729

This one is more about saving money than making money. They do cash back on gas and some other things. I recently drove from PA to FL and got $28 in cash back for the gas we bought on the trip down. (Didn't really use it on the way back, because Grandma gave us some giftcards. 🥰) You can also get 5-20% at random restaurants and like Bath & Body Works?? The ads say also grocery stores but we don't have any that take part in our area. You can (and we did) use this in conjunction with the 2 cents from Bridge money, whatever cash back you get on the card itself, scanning the receipt, etc.

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 124]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55

I have been sick as a dog since I last worked on this story. I'm not even doing any work today lol. I just want to get this chapter finished. Will probably do a couple rounds and then cook myself dinner, so there may be a gap at some point. Mostly I'll just be, like, reading when not posting. Wish me luck.

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there, or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs. So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had gone so far as to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently extract himself from the droves of cats. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet, and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to them, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way. Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

Thomas still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to the cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

“I think I’ll stick to sandwiches for today,” King Thomas said. He looked at Patton and Logan. “Do either of you want…?”

“No,” Logan said. Patton shook his head.

The king nodded and offered the entire covered bowl of chicken alfredo to Virgil. “Here, this one’s yours,” he said.

“Really?” Virgil asked tentatively. It wasn’t exactly strange for people here to offer him food, and he’d expected and anticipated getting to eat on this venture, but the king of the country offering him an entire bowl of his favorite food was something else.

“It’s not really my idea of a picnic food and you seem excited for it,” King Thomas said with a warm smile, still holding it out.

Virgil took it reverently. Despite the time it had taken to get to the cliffs, the bottom of the container was still warm. Virgil assumed it was one of the heating spells the kitchen sometimes used.

“Thanks,” Virgil said, setting it in his lap.

“Of course, Virgil,” the king said.

The bowl was enough for four people to have a little bit, but for one person it was a lot. Still, Virgil was offered a little of every other food in the picnic basket (and he ate a good number of the hot cauliflower bites).

“Where do you put all of that?” the king asked when Virgil finished polishing off the chicken alfredo bowl.

Everyone else seemed to have finished eating long before Virgil, though Patton still had a small plate of grapes, and he occasionally popped one in his mouth. King Thomas was currently setting up the board game they’d brought on the blanket between all of them.

Virgil shrugged in answer to his question. “It’s good,” he said, “and I don’t want to waste any of it.”

“You know we can just take the leftovers back to the castle and eat them later,” King Thomas said. “You don’t have to eat it all now.”

Virgil just shrugged again, watching as the king set out a group of 8 figures on the board.

“Here, which character do you want to be?” the king asked Virgil, gesturing at the group of figures. Virgil had not noticed the figures were different at first glance. They were all copper colored and about the size of his thumb, but they had slightly different shapes. He squinted at them each carefully, finding they all looked like people, but with different clothing. Some worse pants and some skirts, a few had hats, and one was even carrying a book.

After a few moments, he pointed at one that looked like it had vines wrapped around its arms and was wearing a floppy hat that almost covered its eyes.

“That’s the druid,” King Thomas told him with a grin. “Good choice, and luckily not one that anyone usually fights over.” He glanced at Logan who didn’t react to his father’s gaze. He just plucked the figure clutching the book off the board for himself.

Patton and the king picked pieces for themselves. Patton picked one with an apron that kind of reminded Virgil of his mom and the king picked one that was in a suit of armor before putting the other 4 figures away.

Unlike checkers, this game wasn’t just for two people, and so no one had to sit watching people play while bored out of their mind.

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They played a practice round so Virgil could figure out how the game worked, though honestly it wasn’t that complicated, so it wasn’t really necessary.

The theme of the game was all about stealing. They were supposed to steal special tokens from other players as well as characters in the game and the first person with 20 tokens won.

The other three players argued that stealing was not the point and not the main mechanism of the game, but considering Virgil was consistently winning the entire time, he would argue they were just playing it wrong. He managed to collect 20 tokens before anyone else. In second place at this time was Logan with 9 tokens.

Logan insisted on continuing to play the game to determine 2nd and 3rd place, so Virgil ended up watching them play for a bit. Virgil didn’t mind sitting and watching other people play this game, mostly because he still had the joy of victory running in his veins.

Thomas was definitely going to lose, he noted. He kept wasting his money feeding the nonplayer characters who lived on his lands. Virgil didn’t mention this faulty strategy to him in case Virgil ever played him again.

When Logan took too long thinking about his next move, Virgil took in their surroundings.

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He’d been a bit too distracted by the prospect of food and then trying to understand (and then win) the game to truly take in The Cliffs. They were settled a good distance away from the cliffside but Virgil could still see how quickly the edge dropped off. He couldn’t see the large river he was told was at its base from where he was sitting, but he did see a few of the promised wild birds (including doves) flying around. The king had promised they’d bird watch for a bit, and Virgil figured that would happen after the game was over.

A cool spring breeze brushed across Virgil’s face, and he put his hand in his hoodie pockets to warm them. Instead, his fingers hit something icy cold.

For a moment, he didn’t remember what it was. The crescent shape of it was familiar when he put his hand over it, but he had never felt it cold before.

It was the protection charm: the first charm Virgil had ever made with Logan so many months ago. It was meant to ward off small threats as well as warn you about larger threats by changing temperature…

It had always been warm.

“What?” Patton asked, having noticed Virgil suddenly tense. Virgil, despite how he drilled into his friend’s heads to stay alert had gone soft. He’d let himself be distracted by a full belly and warm blankets and fun games.

He didn’t answer Patton. He filtered the other boy’s worried face out as well as Logan’s face as he glanced at him and the king’s still focused on the game for now. He filtered out the picnic blanket and smell of food still lingering in the air and the vine covered figure set in the middle of the board on the winner’s space. He filtered out the sound of the breeze and the breath of his companions and the distant chirping of birds.

And he heard a whoosh.

Chapter 58 (Patton)

If Patton hadn’t already been looking, he probably wouldn’t have had any idea what happened.

Everything had been fine. Virgil had been sitting cross legged, idly watching the conclusion of the game they’d been playing when his posture had suddenly changed. Patton had looked over at him only to see an expression on his face he didn’t recognize, but it didn’t seem good.

“What?” Patton had asked, but the question didn’t seem to register to Virgil.

Logan had glanced up confused and also noticed Virgil’s face. He’d just opened his mouth to also ask what was going on when chaos descended.

Virgil was suddenly moving, crashing into King Thomas who hadn’t even looked up to see something was wrong at that point. Patton realized after the fact that Virgil had swiped up the board of the game they’d been playing as he jumped over it, the pieces previously stacked on it scattering all over the blanket. There were three thumps as some things hit the thick board, imbedding themselves into the surface.

When Virgil discarded the board in favor of the picnic basket, Patton saw there were small darts in it oozing a dark black liquid. The parts of the board they touched were dissolving, the grass under the new holes beginning to wilt rapidly.

Logan seemed to notice the oozing liquid the same moment Patton did and was quicker to realize what it was. He grabbed Patton’s arm and yanked him away from the board so hard he almost dislocated Patton’s shoulder, not that Patton was too worried about that. He scrambled away from it when he realized what it must be himself.

He could hear the sound of glassware smashing above them. Logan and Patton had rolled off the blanket in their quest to get away from the smoldering, melting board and apparently Virgil had pulled the picnic blanket fully over the king at some point.

Virgil himself was now gone from where he’d been the last time Patton had looked and it took him a moment to figure out where the boy had gone. The person who had been shooting poisoned darts at them had been drawn out of the wooded area they’d been hiding in by Virgil’s attacks.

They were cloaked in dark green from head to toe, explaining why they’d been difficult to spot when they were in the woods. Whoever they were, they were significantly larger than Virgil, possibly an actual adult or almost adult assassin, but they were also clearly a long distant fighter. They had not been expecting resistance let alone resistance in the form of a so quick he was almost a blur fellow assassin.

They had a bow strapped to their back, but they hadn’t had a chance to get it. Instead, they were trying to fight Virgil off with an arrow they’d managed to draw from their quiver. Virgil, meanwhile was lunging at them with a broken piece of plate in one hand and the picnic basket in the other.

Virgil dodged out of the way of the arrow striking towards his arm, though Patton didn’t think it was because he was afraid of getting scratched by an arrow, but because it may also be poisoned tipped.

Virgil was distracted by dodging for long enough that the older assassin managed to hit him in the face with the arm not holding the arrow.

He went down, but he took the older assassin with him, sweeping their legs out from under them. Patton hadn’t noticed (his mind working too slow for how fast they were moving) but they were on a slight incline. They went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs towards the edge of the cliff and skidded to a stop only a few feet away.

Virgil ended up on top, his piece of broken plate in his hands. He moved to slash it across the other assassin’s throat and managed to draw blood, but the assassin’s fist came out to shove at Virgil’s chest at just the right moment, causing the strike to veer off course and slice across the assassin’s cheek instead.

Virgil jerked to the side to avoid a second strike to the chest and went back for another slash. The other assassin rolled to the side as he did and the plate only managed to nick their ear. The point of the motion hadn’t been to dodge, however. They were lunging for the arrow they’d dropped a few feet away while they’d rolled. They grabbed it with their right hand and in the same motion stabbed back behind them towards Virgil.

Virgil rolled to avoid the hit, already slashing up with his plate as the assassin turned back towards him.

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He didn’t hit them this time but his swipe managed to stop them from stabbing him when they tried again. They shoved themselves back to avoid Virgil’s swing, putting a bit of distance between them. Both of them managed to make it to their feet during the momentary reprieve, but both also stayed crouched, eyeing each other.

They both lunged towards each other at the same time. The assassin went for a stab to Virgil’s neck with the arrow, but Virgil was already ducking down. This time, he wasn’t going for a kill shot. He grabbed the assassin’s wrist and at the same time drove his piece of plate into the assassin’s arm, slicing down from the elbow to wrist. The assassin spoke for the first time, cursing in a language Patton didn’t recognize as they were forced to drop their arrow.

Virgil took a moment to kick the arrow away from the assassin and it ended up falling off the cliff.

However, this pause gave the assassin enough time to regroup. Despite their arm bleeding profusely, they still decided to use it to backhand Virgil across the face viciously, leaving a long line of their own blood across his face.

Virgil lunged back forward, but the assassin was able to get a leg between them, kicking Virgil squarely in the chest and sending him flying back a few feet parallel to the cliff’s edge.

The assassin went to grab their bow and another arrow from the quiver still strapped to their shoulder.

Virgil, however, apparently went for another weapon too and he was much faster with a knife than any archer. A knife appeared in his hand, having been strapped to his ankle and was embedded into the assassin’s chest before they could even full remove an arrow from their quiver.

The assassin promptly burst into flames, fire catching their clothes (and from the smell of it their skin) ablaze. Panicked and dying, they stumbled two steps to the side. They stepped directly off the cliff.

There was a second of silence. They heard the sound of the body hitting the ground far below and then the flap of wings and screeching as birds below fled from the startling sound (and possible soon to be forest fire).

…

“Uh, Virgil?” King Thomas said. He had managed to get the blanket off his head at some point. When, Patton didn’t know, but seeing any of it was probably enough.

Oopsie.

Chapter 59 (Logan)

Logan and Patton had been useless during the fight, but that may have been for the best. Considering the skill differential when it came to fighting (and that differential had never been as clear as it was in this moment), that was probably for the best. They likely would have just gotten in the way.

The moment Logan’s father spoke, however, they both jumped into action.

They both knew their jobs in a situation like this. Patton pushed himself up to his feet ungracefully and all but sprinted over towards Virgil. Logan, on the other hand stood to face his father, putting himself very purposefully between the man who had no idea what was going on yet and the boy who was two seconds away from remembering what was going on.

“I can explain,” Logan said.

His father was still sitting on the ground. “You can explain,” he said slowly, “how Virgil just threw an assassin off a cliff.”

Logan thought pointing out that Virgil hadn’t thrown anyone off a cliff and instead had set them on fire with a magical knife causing them to walk off a cliff, would not be useful in this moment. He glanced back briefly towards where Virgil and Patton were standing and then turned back to his father. “Yes.”

“And what would that explanation be?”

Before even starting to speak, Logan found himself making large dramatic ‘explaining hand gestures’ that he’d thought he’d long since trained himself out of. When he was younger and in trouble, he always used to give himself away as guilty by being overly expressive with his hands (and arms).

“So,” Logan said. He was still not able to stop the hand motions. “Virgil was an assassin. He came here to kill you last fall, but he accidently went to the wrong room in the royal wing. Patton and I were having a slumber party and caught him in the act. Then we reformed him and now he doesn’t kill people anymore.” He paused and glanced back, remembering the body that had just toppled off the cliff. “Er, uh, he doesn’t kill people who haven’t shot poisoned darts at people recently anymore?”

“What?”

“Look,” Logan said. “You’re going to have to tell him you’re not going to execute him soon. Patton can only keep him from bolting for so long.”

[myceliumbean]

Cars 2 Agents AU How did Rod survive 2.5 II The Hangar is Warm

Featuring: Incorrect ATC radio communications and fictional Yakutsk Airport

Summary: the agents were on a mission, and everything went wrong soon after they entered Russian airspace

I spent two weeks running through information I could get my hands on but at last still copu paste most of the context from some example pilot radio communication

'Yakutsk Tower, Alpha 113, 30 miles northeast at 2500, inbound for landing with Lima.'

'Yakutsk Tower, Romeo Alpha 27405, 60 miles northeast at 5500, request for landing with Lima.'

Boris watched worriedly not so far above as Siddeley shaked and lost quite some level but then pushed himself back high.

'Alpha 113, Yakutsk Tower, squawk 7700 and ident, report entering left downwind Runway 15 with Lima.'

'Romeo Alpha 405, Yakutsk Tower, squawk 3415 and ident.'

'Squawk 7700, report entering left downwind Runway 15, Alpha 113.'

'Squawk 3415, Romeo Alpha 405.'

Though the Gulfstream V might be task saturated, Boris still felt that he should at least talk to the young spy plane. 'All good, kid?'

'Not really, you heard me squawking 7700.' Siddeley sounded exausted, his voice trembling even through the radio as he fought to keep his flight level.

Boris frown at the airport's usual foggy weather- making a VFR on this kind of day was already risky, not to say under the bad condition Siddeley was. 'We'll get you fixed up once we're on the ground and in the hangar.'

'Romeo Alpha 405, radio contact, fly heading 65, descend and maintain 3000. Maintain VFR and I'll let you know when you're clear to land."

'Fly heading 65, descend and maintain 3000. Maintain VFR and wait for clearance, Romeo Alpha 405.'

Siddeley managed to squeeze a laugh through the radio. 'Thanks. I'm just… thinking about the mission. What took us all to where we are.'

It took Boris seconds to realize what Siddeley had in his mind. '…you're not dying, kid.' He said. 'The team had cleared you for this flight.'

'I'm looking around almost only by radar and the maps I could pull from my data banks.' Siddeley sighed as he heard the sudden silence on the radio. 'Altimeter is somehow still fuctioning so I'm not going to run my nose into the ground, but I'm assuming a rough landing.'

'There's our people down there waiting to cover us up, kid.' Boris dropped his level to around 3000 feets. 'Besides, I'm not going to tell your friends about changing flight, you guys look good when surrounded by each other.'

'Romeo Alpha 405, report entering right downwind Runway 27 with Lima.'

'Report entering right downwind Runway 27 with Lima, Romeo Alpha 405.' Boris took one last look at the Gulfstream V that started to descend. 'See you on the ground, kid, Zil will be waiting.'

'Sure do, look out for the mountains and the fog.'

'You should stop making bad jokes.' Boris chuckled to himself, then turn right and approach his runway for landing. 'Romeo Alpha 405, entering Runway 27 with Lima.'

'Clear to land Runway 27, Romeo Alpha 405.'

The Ilyushin-76 made quite an experienced and smooth land on the wet ground. The airport had good de-icing ground teams as uaual, he thought, and spoke again as his wheels slow down to a rather lazy speed. 'Yakutsk Ground, Romeo Alpha 27405, at Zulu 4 requesting taxi to west hangars.'

'Romeo Alpha 27405, Yakutsk Ground, taxi via Bravo 5, Delta Echo, Tango 7 and head for Hangar 9.'

'Taxi via Bravo 5, Delta Echo, Tango 7 and head for Hangar 9, Romeo Alpha 27405.' Boris quickly turned to his left, went pass all the taxiways the groind control told him, and saw Siddeley with only his T tail poking out from the hangar.

"Does he look alive?" Eva was already beside the cabin door, with the rest of the team lining up behind her, all ready for bursting out and into the rescue.

"You bet. How's the agents?"

"Everything good except for almost froze up from inside." Counting down with her tines tapping the wall, Eva couldn't wait for Boris to stop completely anymore. "Let's go mess up, fellows! We're not getting words from Zil today!"

"And not on any other day!" Yelled Alyona from far behind.

The cabin door opened after Eva pushed the bottom on the wall. The four forklifts rushed out into the cold and went straight ahead to the groind medical team Zil had gathered right after Boris took off from Chkalovsky Airport for this rescue mission.

The Ilyushin-76 slowly turned his nose toward the hangar. Siddeley was dragged inside by the powerful red-yellow tractor on duty and was now surrounded by forklifts and cars. It had started to snow again, fortunately they were already on the ground.

"Is he alright?" Boris, not wanting to interrupted anything the medics werw doing, simply poked his nose inside to take a look. Behind him, Alyona and Michaele carefully guided the three cars out off his cabin and into the hangar.

Daniil, who quickly took over the controller position of the rational chaos inside the hangar, gave Boris a head shake. "He's at the last of his strength, I don't think he could hear us or even feel us by now. Thank Chrysler he had his front wheels on the ground before his engines gave up."

"Botj engine failed?" Boris couldn't help but raise his voice. "How could it be this bad? Eva had cleared him to-"

"We don't know yet, but the agents mentioned an engine failure that forced them to land on the icy wild." Michaele tapped Boris' front tires. "He got no major injury. Even his landing gears and tires survived, the ground control said it was a miracle judging from how rough the landing was. They said he looked like he's gonna slammed himself into the ground."

"Now you're all making bad jokes." Boris sighed and was about to leave before he heard a oddly young voice.

"Finally got to hear your for real." Someone said weakly with a few whirl of turbine engines that didn't sound anything close to good. "Told you I've got this."

"…you really are a tough kid." Eva was waving furiously at him, so Boris rolled in and covered Siddeley up with his high and wide wings. Metal slightly scratched against metal, he could feel the tremble from the Gulfstream V as he panted. "Get some rest. We have everything under control."

"…at least, let me know… your name?" Siddeley blinked as his vision got darker. "It's… warm, and I'm so tired…"

"Name's… Boris, Boris Ilyushin Chkalovsky." The Ilyushin-76 got even more closer. The heat emitting from the two huge turbine engines under his left wing made Siddeley sighed in relief as the smaller plane started to doze off and his breathe slowing down. "Nothing to worry about, everyone is fine."

Siddeley passed out within a blink.

"So it's just him stressing himself too much." Eva gave Siddeley's white frame a resounding "ching" using one of her tines. "The agents are just fine, some rest and everything is good. But I'm assuming at least a five-day off for Sid. He had some nasty engine issues."

"I don't think Zil is in a hurry." Boris shrugged, his eyes srarting to lool for something for cover. "Would you be nice and put those canvas on top of us?"

"You haven't de-iced yourself, go get those clean up and I'll do you this favor." Eva chuckled as the red-yellow tractor pushed her old friend out again. "Don't be too late! Or you'll missed Zil's report time!"

"I'd rather missed it." Boris sighed, and headed for Hangar 10 to dry himself up.

Here comes the end of this little side story!

I'm so glad that I finally finished it, and thanks @longjiaojiao for beta and discussion over such details!

Now, as we're back to work on the main storyline, stay tuned for more exciting stories featuring more OCs, canon characters, and the adventures they're gonna go on!

P.S. If you find anything wrong with the radio communication, don't hesitate to tell me, I will really appreciate that!