#Reduced overhead costs

[ecomtipstrends]

Online Marketplaces: Types, Advantages, Features, Challenges, and Future Trends

A digital platform known as an online marketplace connects customers and sellers and enables transactions for the purchase and sale of goods and services. These marketplaces, which give consumers and sellers a location to explore and buy goods and services, are frequently owned and run by independent companies.

Since the beginning of the Internet, there have been online marketplaces. CompuServe introduced Electronic Mall, the first online marketplace, in 1984. On this platform, Internet users could buy a range of goods and services, including, among others, books, airline tickets, and apparel.

But, internet marketplaces didn't fully take off until 1995, when eBay was founded. eBay invented the C2C paradigm, enabling people to exchange things with one another via an easy-to-use platform.

Due to a variety of variables, such as expanded reach and visibility, lower overhead, quick purchasing, and safe payment and transactions, online marketplaces have grown in importance in today's digital world.

In this article, we will delve into the various types of online marketplaces, the benefits they offer to both buyers and sellers, the features and obstacles they present, examine successful case studies of online marketplaces and explore the future of this industry.

           I. Types of Online Marketplaces: B2B Marketplaces 

Online marketplaces that connect businesses with other businesses to allow the exchange of goods and services are known as B2B (business-to-business) marketplaces.

horizontal marketplaces: Horizontal markets provide a wide variety of goods and services across numerous industries. These marketplaces offer a one-stop shopping experience for the purchasing requirements of companies of all sizes.

Vertical Marketplaces: A particular industry or market area is the focus of vertical marketplaces. These markets are made for companies that have unique requirements and need goods and services that are specific to their sector.

Marketplaces for Procurement: These marketplaces concentrate on the procurement process and offer tools and services to businesses to help them organize their procurement procedures. These marketplaces usually provide services like contract management, e-procurement, and electronic auctions.

 Marketplaces for Services: These sites are devoted to bringing together companies and service providers including consultants, freelancers, and agencies. Companies can access a wide range of service providers through these marketplaces, enabling them to discover the best people to suit their needs.

 Industry-Specific Marketplaces: Markets that are focused on a particular industry or sector,   such as healthcare, construction, or finance, are catered to by these markets.

III. Types of Online Marketplaces: B2C Marketplaces

Online marketplaces that connect businesses with specific consumers are known as B2C (business-to-consumer) platforms. Using these platforms, consumers may explore, buy, and receive goods and services directly from businesses.

B2C marketplaces come in a variety of varieties.

Generalist Marketplaces: These online stores provide a broad selection of goods and services in several categories, including electronics, clothing, and housewares. These online markets offer a one-stop shop for consumers' shopping needs and appeal to users of all ages and demographics.

Specialty Markets: Specialist markets concentrate on a particular subject or industry, such as luxury goods, organic products, or handcrafted crafts. These online markets serve customers with particular demands and provide a range of goods that are suitable for their needs.

Peer-to-peer marketplaces: Without the help of a regular business, peer-to-peer marketplaces allow consumers to purchase and sell goods and services from one another directly. These markets frequently concentrate on niches like freelancing, used items, or rental services.

Auction Marketplaces: Users have the option to bid on goods and services on auction marketplaces, frequently at a lower cost than through conventional retail channels. These markets frequently provide a variety of things, ranging from common consumer goods to rare treasures.

Markets with a subscription model: Markets with a subscription model provide customers with a regular supply of goods or services in exchange for a regular cost. These markets frequently concentrate on things like apparel, meal kits, and beauty products.

      IV. Types of Online Marketplaces: C2C Marketplaces

Consumer-to-consumer (C2C) online marketplaces are digital platforms that let individual users transact with one another directly to purchase and sell goods and services without the involvement of a traditional business.

C2C marketplaces can in a variety of forms, including

 Online markets with auctions: Online marketplaces with auctions give customers the chance to bid on goods and services, frequently at a lower cost than through conventional retail channels. These markets usually provide a wide range of things, from common consumer goods to rare rarities.

Peer-to-Peer Marketplaces: Without using a regular business, peer-to-peer marketplaces allow consumers to purchase and sell goods and services from one another directly. These markets frequently concentrate on niches like freelance work, rental services, and used products.

Classified marketplaces are locations where people can list adverts for goods and services they want to sell, where other customers can read them and get in touch with them directly. These markets frequently concentrate on topics like real estate, automobiles, and employment.

Social commerce marketplaces: By fusing social media elements with e-commerce capabilities, social commerce marketplaces enable users to buy and sell goods and services within a social network. These markets frequently concentrate on categories like fashion, beauty, and home items.

Markets for Renting Goods: Markets for Renting Goods enable people to rent items they own, such as cars, vacation houses, and expensive clothing. These things are available for direct rental from the owner to other users.

         V. Types of Online Marketplaces: Niche MarketplacesOnline markets known as niche marketplaces offer a range of goods and services that are tailored to the needs and tastes of a particular market segment or demographic group.

Several varieties of niche markets exist, such as

Vertical marketplaces: Vertical marketplaces are focused on a single sector or product line, such as the automobile, food, beverage, or healthcare sectors. These platforms provide specialized goods and services that are not offered on generalist platforms, catering to businesses and customers in a particular specialty.

Regional Marketplaces: Local users, such as residents of a particular city or state, can use regional marketplaces. By enabling consumers to find and buy goods and services from nearby companies, these marketplaces provide a local shopping experience.

Demographic Marketplaces: Markets for certain demographic groups, including women, seniors, or millennials, are catered to by demographic markets. These markets provide a range of goods and services that meet the requirements and preferences of their intended market.

Luxury Marketplaces: Markets for high-end goods and services, such as designer clothing, jewelry, and home goods, are catered to by luxury marketplaces. These online stores provide a high-end shopping experience, frequently with exclusive goods and specialized help.

Socially responsible marketplaces: Markets that are focused on socially and environmentally responsible concerns, such as fair trade, sustainability, and animal welfare, include socially responsible marketplaces. These marketplaces give customers a way to conduct ethical shopping and contribute to causes they value.

      VI. Advantages of Online Marketplaces For Sellers: Increased reach and visibility

Sellers may expand their reach and visibility on online marketplaces, which is one of their many advantages. Internet marketplaces give vendors a centralized platform from which they can market their wares to a wide range of prospective customers. Sellers can now connect with a larger audience thanks to this than they could by using their own website or physical location.

These are some particular ways that online marketplaces might broaden the reach and visibility of their sellers:

Access to a huge client base: Internet marketplaces can attract millions of active users, meaning that vendors may have the opportunity to connect with a sizable and varied customer base. Small and medium-sized enterprises in particular may benefit from this because they might lack the capacity to independently reach such a wide audience.

Strong SEO policies are frequently in place on online marketplaces, which allows vendors' goods or services to rank higher on search engine result pages (SERPs). This raises awareness of the vendor's goods or services and draws in more potential clients.

Brand Exposure: By including their goods or services in specific product listings or targeted marketing initiatives, online marketplaces can help vendors raise brand awareness. This increases brand recognition and draws in new clients.

Marketing that is both efficient and affordable: Internet marketplaces frequently include marketing and advertising tools that vendors can use to market their goods or services. When compared to conventional marketing methods like print or television advertising, these techniques may be more affordable.

Decreased operational expenses: By offering infrastructure such as payment processing, customer service, and shipping, online marketplaces enable vendors to lower operational costs. Small firms that might not have the resources to handle these duties on their own may find this to be very helpful.

        VII. advantages of Online Marketplaces For Sellers: Lower overhead costs

 Lower overhead costs are an important advantage of online marketplaces for merchants. Conventional retail operations may be expensive, and costs like rent, utilities, and employee pay can all have a big impact on a business's profit margins.

The following are some ways that sellers might cut expenses by using online marketplaces:

 No physical storefront required: Internet markets do away with the requirement for a physical storefront, which may be one of the most expensive expenses for a retail business. Sellers don't require an expensive retail space because they can operate their business from home or their office.

Decreased expenses associated with inventory management: When selling on an online marketplace, merchants might employ a "just-in-time" inventory system, in which they only order goods from suppliers when they are actually needed. With less inventory to manage, there is less chance of either overstocking or understocking.

Reduced marketing costs: Internet marketplaces frequently include marketing and advertising tools that merchants can use to advertise their goods or services, which helps keep marketing expenses down. Comparing these technologies to more conventional marketing avenues like print or television advertising, they may be more affordable.

Cost-effective payment processing: Compared to traditional payment methods like checks or money orders, online marketplaces that offer payment processing services can assist merchants to cut costs associated with payment processing.

Outsourcing shipping and fulfillment: Since online marketplaces can offer these services, sellers can contract out their fulfillment and shipping needs to others. As a result, there may be less of a requirement for costly shipping and fulfillment infrastructure and less chance of delivery mistakes or delays

            VIII. Advantages of Online Marketplaces for sellers: Reduced marketing expenses

    One of the major advantages of online marketplaces for merchants is the reduction of marketing expenses. Businesses, especially small and medium-sized ones, can incur large expenses through marketing (SMEs). Online marketplaces, however, give vendors a cheaper option than conventional marketing avenues for promoting their goods and services.

Online marketplaces cut down on sellers' marketing costs in the following ways:

Integrated advertising: is a feature that many online markets provide, with choices including sponsored product listings and specialized email campaigns. Compared to more conventional forms of advertising like print or television ads, these solutions may be more affordable.

Increased exposure: Because of the size and diversity of online marketplace customers, sellers may be able to reach more people than they could through traditional marketing methods. Sellers can take advantage of the marketplace's ongoing marketing and promotion initiatives by listing their products there.

Advantages of SEO: Strong search engine optimization (SEO) tactics are frequently used by online marketplaces, which can help sellers' products rank higher in search engine results pages (SERPs). As a result, more potential buyers are drawn to the merchants' goods and services.

Analytics accessibility: Internet marketplaces frequently give vendors access to comprehensive data on their product listings, including click-through and conversion rates. With the help of this data, sellers can decide on their marketing tactics quantitatively and improve the performance of their product listings.

Reduced Cost Per Acquisition: Compared to conventional advertising channels, online marketplaces have a lower cost per acquisition (CPA). Sellers may generate a lot of traffic to their product listings and minimize their cost per acquisition by focusing on particular audiences through sponsored product listings or email campaigns.

        IX. Advantages of Online Marketplaces for the buyer: More choices and competitive pricesThe fact that online marketplaces provide a broader selection and competitive rates is one of their many advantages for shoppers. Internet marketplaces make it simpler for customers to obtain what they need at a reasonable price by giving them access to a large selection of goods and services from various vendors.

These are some concrete ways that online markets give customers access to a larger selection and aggressive pricing:

Large selection: Compared to traditional brick-and-mortar retailers, online markets often provide a greater selection of goods and services. Customers have a wide range of brands, models, and styles to pick from, which enables them to find the product that best meets their needs and preferences.

Competitive pricing: Online marketplaces foster a market where many sellers are selling comparable goods or services, which can lower prices. Customers can compare prices and product attributes across many sellers to get the best deal.

Pricing transparency: Internet marketplaces frequently provide pricing transparency, enabling customers to view the whole cost of a good or service, including taxes, shipping, and other costs. This aids customers in making wise purchases and preventing unforeseen costs.

Reviews and ratings: Internet marketplaces give consumers access to reviews and ratings left by other clients, enabling them to establish opinions about the effectiveness and caliber of goods and services. This can assist customers in making knowledgeable judgments and selecting goods or services that are more likely to suit their needs.

Convenience: Internet marketplaces make life simpler for consumers by enabling them to buy products at any time and from any location. Customers can use their mobile devices to browse and compare products either at home or on the go.

X. Advantages of Online Marketplaces for buyers: Convenient shopping experience

 The ease of the buying process is another benefit of online markets for purchasers. Internet marketplaces provide buyers with a convenient mechanism to purchase products and services, saving them time and effort when shopping.

The following special features of online markets make purchasing simpler for customers:

24/7 accessibility: Customers can shop whenever it is most convenient for them, regardless of where they are or what time zone they are in.

Search and navigation features that are simple to use: Online marketplaces often contain search and navigation tools that are simple to use and help customers find what they're looking for. Consumers can easily narrow down their options by filtering search results by topic, brand, price, and other factors.

Multiple Payment Options: Internet marketplaces include a variety of payment alternatives, including credit cards, PayPal, and other electronic payment systems. This allows customers to select the payment option that is both easy and safe for them.

Fast and Convenient Shipping: Shipping alternatives that are quick and easy to use include same-day and next-day delivery on many online marketplaces. Also, real-time shipment tracking gives customers more control and peace of mind over their purchases.

Customer service: Internet markets frequently provide customer help by email, phone, or chat. This makes it possible for customers to seek assistance with any queries or issues they might have throughout the purchasing process swiftly and simply.

          XI. Advantages of Online Marketplaces for the buyer: Secure payment and transactionsThe security of payments and transactions is another advantage of online markets for buyers. To ensure that transactions are safe and secure and to shield customers from fraud and other threats, online marketplaces have developed several security protocols and technologies.

Following are some specific methods by which online markets protect buyers' payment and transaction information:

Data encryption and security: To prevent sensitive information, such as credit card numbers and personal information, from being intercepted or stolen during transactions, online marketplaces use encryption and other data security measures.

Safe Payment Gateways: To guarantee that payments are completed securely and in compliance with industry standards, online marketplaces collaborate with renowned payment gateways.

Fraud Prevention Measures: Internet marketplaces have created several fraud prevention strategies, including identity verification and transaction monitoring, to thwart fraud and shield customers from con artists.

Buyer Protection Programs: Online marketplaces frequently offer buyer protection schemes, such as refund or return policies, to make sure that customers are happy with their purchases and that they are compensated if something goes wrong.

Trustworthy Sellers: Internet marketplaces typically have a screening process in place for sellers to make sure they are reliable and honest. This guarantees that customers are doing business with respectable merchants who are dedicated to offering top-notch goods and services.

                XII. Features of Online Marketplaces

 Internet marketplaces typically have several characteristics that make them efficient venues for purchasing and offering services and goods.

The following are some of the key characteristics of online markets:

Product Catalog: An extensive product catalog that features a broad range of goods and services available on online marketplaces. The majority of the time, these products are categorized and sub-categorized to make it simple for customers to find what they're looking for.

Search and Filtering: With strong search and filtering features, online marketplaces enable customers to rapidly identify the products they require based on parameters like price range, brand, location, and shipping options.

Seller Profiles: Internet marketplaces give vendors the option to build profiles that include details about their goods, services, and company. This data can include things like product descriptions, pictures, costs, shipping details, and consumer feedback.

Customer Reviews: Customers are often given the chance to write evaluations and ratings for both vendors and products on online marketplaces. Other purchasers can learn from these reviews, which also helps merchants gain credibility and confidence.

Payment Processing: Secure payment processing is offered by online marketplaces for transactions between buyers and sellers. This can entail collaborating with outside payment processors or offering their own payment processing infrastructure.

Shipping and Fulfillment: Internet marketplaces often offer sellers shipping and fulfillment services, making it simple for them to handle orders and make sure that goods are delivered to buyers quickly and effectively.

Customer Support: Internet marketplaces offer both buyers and sellers customer support services, such as account management, product questions, and order tracking.

    XIII. Challenges of Online Marketplaces

Online marketplaces have a lot to offer both buyers and sellers, but they also have a lot of difficulties.

Some of the most significant ones are listed below:

Competition: Internet marketplaces are extremely competitive areas with many sellers vying for the attention of shoppers. As a result, individual sellers may find it challenging to stand out and draw clients.

Trust and reputation: Reputation and trust are essential to the success of online marketplaces. The marketplace's growth may be constrained if customers are hesitant to make purchases because they don't trust the platform or the merchants.

Fraud and Scams: Internet marketplaces are susceptible to fraud and scams, which can harm reputation and confidence. This includes false merchants, bogus goods, and dishonest business dealings.

Product authenticity and quality: Online marketplaces must make sure that the goods sold on their platforms are real and of the highest caliber. If customers receive fake or subpar goods, it may harm the market's reputation and discourage further sales.

Customer service: Internet marketplaces must offer both buyers and sellers excellent customer service. Due to the platform's need to manage numerous consumer requests and complaints, this may be challenging.

Regulation and compliance: Online marketplaces are required to abide by several laws, including those about data privacy, taxation, and consumer protection. Penalties may be imposed legally and financially for breaking these rules.

Technology and Infrastructure: To function efficiently, online markets need high-end technology and architecture. Servers, databases, payment processing systems, and customer support systems may be included. This infrastructure's upkeep and improvement can be expensive and time-consuming.

                     XIV. Case Studies of Successful Online Marketplaces: Amazon

Amazon is one of the most well-known and well-liked online marketplaces in the world. Jeff Bezos established the website in 1994 with the primary goal of selling books. Amazon today offers a wide variety of products and services, including electronics, fashion, consumables, and digital media, as a result of the expansion of its product line throughout time.

The emphasis that Amazon places on the customer experience is one of the main aspects that has aided in its success. The platform includes functions like product recommendations, one-click ordering, and free delivery on many items to make it simpler for clients to browse and purchase products. Amazon has also made significant investments in logistics and technology to speed up deliveries and lower costs.

The marketplace approach that Amazon uses is another crucial aspect of its success. Amazon offers the option for third-party merchants to sell goods on its marketplace in addition to its own goods.

Amazon has become one of the most prosperous online markets in the world thanks to its emphasis on the customer experience, marketplace model, and investments in technology and logistics. Amazon made more than $386 billion in revenue and had more than 200 million active customers by the year 2021

                    XV. Case Studies of Successful Online Marketplaces: Etsy

Founded in 2005 with the goal of "redefining commerce in ways that build a more fulfilling and sustainable world," Etsy is a popular online marketplace. The marketplace, which specializes in handcrafted, vintage, and unique goods, has emerged as a top destination for buyers seeking unique goods.

The importance of a community that Etsy places on its platform is one of the main elements of its success. The marketplace offers a large community of consumers and sellers that are enthusiastic about handcrafted and one-of-a-kind goods. A seller's guide, forums, and webinars are just a few of the resources Etsy provides to assist sellers to expand their businesses. As a result, an environment that encourages entrepreneurship and creativity has been developed.

Another important factor in Etsy's success is its commitment to sustainability and social responsibility.

Etsy's focus on community, sustainability, and social responsibility has helped make it a successful online marketplace. By 2021, Etsy had over 4.4 million active sellers and had generated over $10 billion in gross merchandise sales.

             XVI. Case Studies of Successful Online Marketplaces: Alibaba

 Jack Ma established the popular online marketplace Alibaba in 1999. Although it also has a significant presence in the business-to-consumer (B2C) and business-to-consumer (C2C) markets, the platform is primarily focused on bringing together customers and sellers in the business-to-business (B2B) industry.

The fact that Alibaba has strongly emphasized the Chinese market is one of the main factors in its success. The platform has emerged as the go-to place for Chinese companies seeking to purchase goods and services from other Chinese companies. To assist foreign vendors in reaching Chinese consumers, Alibaba has also broadened its coverage to include international markets.

The success of Alibaba is also greatly influenced by its service network. Alibaba provides a wide range of services to support businesses in addition to its primary marketplace, including payment processing, transportation, and cloud computing. As a result, businesses wishing to acquire and sell goods and services now have a one-stop shop.

 Alibaba is a popular online marketplace thanks to its emphasis on the Chinese market, extensive service network, and dedication to quality. Alibaba made more than $109 billion in sales by   2021 and had more than a billion active users per year.

          XVII. Case Studies of Successful Online Marketplaces: Airbnb

In 2008, Brian Chesky, Joe Gebbia, and Nathan Blecharczyk launched Airbnb, a prosperous internet marketplace. The website, which focuses on the short-term rental industry, enables people to let guests stay in their houses or apartments.

The emphasis Airbnb has placed on the sharing economy is one of the main aspects that has contributed to its success. The platform has benefited from the rising trend of travelers preferring genuine travel experiences to standard hotel stays. Also, Airbnb has fostered a feeling of community among its users and has put in place several programs to entice hosts and guests to connect and exchange stories.

The utilization of technology by Airbnb is a crucial aspect of its success. A user-friendly user interface and several tools have been created by the platform to assist hosts in managing their listings and interacting with visitors.

Because of its emphasis on the sharing economy, technological prowess, and dedication to quality, Airbnb has become a prosperous online marketplace. Since its launch, Airbnb has accommodated more than 800 million guests and over 4 million hosts by the year 2021.

           XVIII. Future of Online Marketplaces

 The future of online marketplaces looks bright as more and more people turn to online shopping and more businesses look for new ways to reach their customers. Here are some key   trends that may shape the future of online marketplaces:

 The continued growth of mobile commerce: With more and more users using their smartphones to shop, mobile commerce is expected to grow significantly in the coming years.   Online marketplaces will need to ensure that their platforms are optimized for mobile devices and provide a seamless mobile shopping experience.

  Focus on sustainability: As shoppers become more environmentally conscious, online marketplaces will need to adopt sustainable behaviors and offer environmentally friendly products. Marketplaces that can demonstrate their commitment to sustainability may have a   competitive advantage in the future.

 Expanding into new markets: Internet marketplaces are probably going to start branching out into new geographical regions, especially in developing nations where e-commerce is still in its infancy. Both buyers and sellers will get additional chances as a result of this.

 Personalization and tailoring: Online marketplaces will be able to provide more individualized and tailored buying experiences as data analytics and machine learning capabilities advance.   This can include individualized product recommendations, exclusive offers, and more.

 Integration with social media: Internet marketplaces are expected to interact further with social media platforms, enabling consumers to make purchases directly from social media sites.   Markets could be able to expand their clientele and boost revenue in this way.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, online marketplaces are now an essential component of the digital economy, providing buyers and sellers with a simple and practical way to interact and conduct business online.

Online marketplaces come in a variety of forms, such as B2B, B2C, C2C, niche, and vertical marketplaces, each of which has advantages specific to buyers and sellers.

Some of the benefits of online marketplaces are more reach, cheaper costs, improved customer knowledge, more selections, competitive pricing, fast shopping, safe payment methods, and simple product and price comparison.

However, online markets also confront several difficulties, such as competition, trust and reputation, legal and regulatory problems, security and fraud, and technical difficulties. Numerous online marketplaces, including Amazon, Etsy, Alibaba, and Airbnb, have proven their potential.

In the future, the internet market is likely to be shaped by new trends like mobile commerce, artificial intelligence, and blockchain technology, bringing with them new opportunities and difficulties

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC(Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 4.9k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

Notes: You can find the rest of the chapters on my masterlist!

If you like the first snippet of this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

Atop the cliffs that line Dragonstone, Jaenara Velaryon watches the tide crash against jagged rocks littered below. Crystal blue waters lap at the sandy shores and white wispy clouds pass by overhead. She thought it unfair that a picturesque day such as this be wasted on tragedy. Jaenara grips the ground beneath her, plush green grass filling her palm and tickling the skin. Gripping harder, she reveals the dirt underneath as grime is pushed underneath her fingernails. She is alone now, away from her mother and brothers. From her step-father and step-sisters. Away from all prying eyes and listening ears. Away from hushed whispers, the only sound that fills her ears are that of the breeze that whips around her and the ocean below. 

She is finally free to weep. 

Tears litter the ground she sits upon. Although she is alone she chokes back a cry, as if fearing that the winds would carry her sorrow back to the castle. Her tears muddle in the dirt below, and Jaenara recounts the events of the past fortnight.  

— — —

Sunlight spills into the Chamber of the Painted Table, where Rhaenyra and Daemon are positioned at the head. The war room had seen more activity this past week than it had in many years, Jaenara had thought. She and her twin brother, Jacaerys, had sat in on a few meetings with members of her mother’s council. The passing of King Viserys had left the realm in disarray, and while her eldest uncle had made no claim to the throne yet, Jaenara understood that time was not on their side. 

“The instruction of a mother can only do so much, especially for a boy as unruly as Aegon,” Rhaenyra had said to her council, “While Alicent may urge her son to heed the wishes of Viserys, Otto and his council are surely whispering ideas of betrayal and usurpation into my half-brothers ears.” 

“I will not wait to see if Aegon honors my rightful place on the throne. It is time to act.”

Her mother had said this before leaving for King’s Landing, much to the dismay of some of her council. The presence of Prince Daemon - no - King Consort Daemon, had helped to quell some of their anxieties, as well as Jaenara’s. Though she knew, better than most, that her mother was a force to be reckoned with even on her own. They had left Dragonstone on Syrax and Caraxes, a formidable warning to the Hightowers and anyone else who opposed Rhaenyra’s claim.

Jaenara’s desire to accompany her mother and step-father had fallen on deaf ears.

“Jace and I must ride with you,” she had urged her mother, “dragons are stronger together.” 

Rhaenyra smiled at that. “There is truth in what you say, sweet girl,” her mother ran a hand through her daughter’s thick black mane. So unlike her own white-bonde hair. “But this is a delicate time. We may yet be on the brink of war-

“All the more reason for us to come!” Jaenara pleaded.

“You, Jace, and Luke are needed here.” Rhaenyra had not raised her voice at her daughter, though her piercing violet eyes scolded her all the same. “Keep a watch over Joffrey, Viserys, and Aegon,” Jaenara let out an over-exaggerated sigh at that, turning away from her mother. 

“As well as watch over Dragonstone, atop Aetherion, Arrax, and Vermax.” Her mother added.

The princess turned around at this. 

“We can only hope your uncle and his council of vipers will allow this transition of power to be peaceful. But I need you and your brothers to remain here, to ensure that no one dares to bring harm upon this castle.”

The prospect of riding her dragon alongside her brothers seemed to satiate the princess’ desires. That had been the end of it. 

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

A week had passed. A cloud of tension hung over Dragonstone that Jaenara could only escape by mounting Aetherion. She patrolled the surrounding waters, in search of any signs of a siege on their isolated stronghold. Her dragon, still young and only slightly larger than a warhorse, danced across the waves below the castle. His dark, purple wings almost dip into the sea, allowing Jaenara to taste the salt in the air and feel the mist spray across her face. She had not a drop of Velaryon blood in her, though she enjoyed the water all the same. 

I am no true Velaryon, Jaenara had thought to herself - a truth she would never speak aloud. But I may yet prove to be the blood of the dragon.

She reins Aetherion upwards, into the clouds above.

The princess is handing Aetherion over to the dragon masters when she finally learns of her mother and step-fathers arrival home. Her ears perk at the faint roars of Syrax and Caraxes in the dragon pit, surely feeding by now. Without another word, Jaenara turns on her heel, and sprints into the castle. 

“Your mother requests your presence in the war room!” A servant had shouted after her. 

Still in her riding leathers, she makes a sharp turn down the hall leading to the room and stumbles into her twin. “Jace-” Jaenara catches her breath, “Mother and Daemon are home! You must come with m-”

“I know.” Her brother responds shortly. 

A pause.

“You have already met with them?” she asks.

Jaenara studies her brother and notices he will not meet her eyes. Her gaze drops to his fists, white knuckled at his side. “Go speak with her. We can talk afterwards.”

And before his twin has the chance to respond, Jacaerys is gone. 

A sickly feeling settles in the young princess’ stomach as she faces the large doors of Dragonstone’s council room. She decided that there was no point in stalling whatever awaited her on the other side. Jaenara pulls open the doors and steps inside. 

Queen Rhaenyra and King Daemon turn towards the young woman, and Jaenara feels even more unease spread through her. The feeling nearly subsides when she looks upon her mother.

“Nara,” Rhaenyra sounds as though she has not seen her daughter in years rather than days. Arms outstretched towards her daughter, Jaenara breaches the distance between them and embraces her mother. “Sweet girl” Rhaenyra breathes.

“Mother,” Jaenara exhales and realizes just how much she had missed her. 

A moment passes before Jaenara finally pulls away. She eyes Daemon, and notes an unreadable expression etched upon her stepfather's face.

“Well,” Jaenara breathes, “I would venture to guess things went well?” she jokes.

Daemon turns away from mother and daughter and walks towards the large windows, looking out to the sea. 

Rhaenyra looks upon her only daughter. The blood of her blood. Her long black hair spills over her shoulders. Her black and crimson riding leathers, crested with the symbol of House Targaryen, grips her form. She meets her daughter's lavender eyes. The rest of her daughter’s physical image, so unlike her. But not her eyes. Lighter than her own, but still undoubtedly Targaryen. 

A deep breath from her mother. Daemon remains silent at the window. 

“An agreement has been reached. I will take my rightful place on the Iron Throne, just as your grandsire intended. Alicent Hightower, members of the council, and even some lords throughout the Seven Kingdoms rallied to my cause - vouched for my legitimacy as heir. Your uncle, Aegon, seems surprisingly content with this arrangement. His mother tells me he has no true interest in ruling. He only wishes to retain his status so that he may live his life in his own…selfish ways.”

Rhaenyra sighs. “We have the gods to thank for allowing reason to prevail so that the realm may be spared from being plunged into needless war. There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin, and no war so bloody as a war between dragons…” Her mother trails off but finds her voice once again. “But there are terms to this peace - I have agreed that your uncle has a seat on my council.”

Jaenara looks between her mother and step-father incredulously. A scoff breaks from her throat. “That’s it? Well this is good news!” she exclaims, “And Jace, he should remain your hei-”

“Tell her the rest of it.” Daemon turns from his place at the window, finally facing his wife and step-daughter. 

The princess looks to her Queen, eyebrows raised.

“Mother?” Jaenara looks to her mother and sees a woman haunted. 

“You are to marry Aemond Targaryen, and you will preside over Dragonstone together.”

Silence fills the room.

“Surely you jest, mother.” Jaenara bites out. Her voice is as cold and hollow as the room now feels.

“Your mother is not so cruel as to make a joke out of this.” Daemon says to his stepdaughter. The princess of Dragonstone stares at her parents. Rulers of the Seven Kingdoms. A position they have paid for with her hand. Her hand.

“Daemon,” Rhaenyra turns to her husband, “A moment alone with my daughter.” It is not a question but a command. He steps away from his place at the window and begins to leave the Chamber of the Painted Table. Daemon reaches his step-daughter and places a hand on her shoulder. Squeezes it. Leaves.

The door shuts and Rhaenyra moves towards her daughter, but not before Jaenara draws back.

“All my life,” she gasps, “All my life, you have told me you only wish that I may marry as I please. That I should not be in the position you found yourself in as a young girl. That I should not be some token of peace - some possession to be given away! You have allowed me to remain free in this position, even now at eight and ten!” Her hand finds her neck, as though she might start to choke. 

“And now…now you - you give me away to him. To that - that man. Who tormented me throughout our childhood together. Tormented Jace and Luke! Surely it will be a loveless marriage.” She looks the Queen in her violet eyes. Eyes that mirror her own. “But anything for your throne, right?” She spits out. 

Rhaenyra’s face falls at that. At a time such as this, she is reminded of herself in her youth and of her own mother. She remembers Aemma, her sweet mother, in her final days. Of when she had told young Rhaenyra that royal wombs as theirs are to serve the realm. Rhaenyra remembered the discomfort that had filled her, hearing her mother say this. And discomfort still surrounded her at the thought of her daughter following in her own footsteps. She remembered the gatherings of lords and their sons that had taken place in her teenage years. Auctions for her hand. Power hungry men only wishing to share her bed for a glimpse at the throne. 

There was the evident truth. She had given away her daughter, in exchange for the Iron Throne. Rhaenyra had condemned her only daughter to the same fate she had suffered.

Jaenara immediately regretted the vitriol she had spouted at her mother. Her mother, who faced hostility and disdain all her life - from even those who were supposed to be her friends. Her family. Deep down, Jaenara understood what was necessary to avoid all-out war. She had told herself she would do whatever she would need to, to secure her mother’s crown and to preserve House Targaryen. But it was not supposed to be like this.

As a dragon-rider, she was supposed to forge the path to the Iron Throne through Aetherion. Alongside her brothers. Her step-father and step-sisters. Her grandmother, Rhaenys.

Not through a marriage pact. 

Rhaenyra gathers her thoughts and speaks, “My love…this is not a decision I made lightly. You see now why our visit to King’s Landing lasted so long. The negotiations were a labyrinth to be navigated. I know this is not fair to you, but we inhabit a world that is unfair to women. A world that deals in our lives and in our misfortune. A world built by men, for men. But when I sit the throne…I will build a new world. I will forge a new path. One that your grandchildren may be happy to live in.” 

Jaenara physically recoils at the thought. The Queen continues, “Though for now…we do what we must.” She takes her daughters hands in hers, “There are whispers about my ability to rule. There have always been, though now they are more present than ever. But you-” Her voice wavers and her grip tightens, “You have the opportunity to help me in ending the question of my capabilities. You can unite our house - we would all be the better for it. You will do the realm a great service in avoiding a war of fire and blood.” The mother finishes, squeezing her daughter’s hands again.

Jaenara breathes, low and steady. “Mayhaps I would rather see the realm put to the torch than marry a man such as him.”

“You do not mean that, daughter.” Rhaenyra is quick and stern in her reply. Now, her words burn Jaenara as well as her eyes. Jaenara does not shrink back, though she does not mean what she says. Not really. They are empty words, born from the heat of the present moment. It is not her mother she is angry with. The princess of Dragonstone is angry with the world, that it was made only in the interest of men. Angry with the gods, for making her a woman. Angry with herself. Angry at her now betrothed, for being who he was - for hating her so.

“I do not.” Jaenara finally replies. “But mother, he will not have me! Just as I will not have him!” Aemond Targaryen knew what Jaenara Velaryon was.

Memories of hurtful epithets from her youth—bastard, his Strong niece, the daughter of a whore—echoed in her mind, whispered by Aemond and Aegon alike, haunting her even now

All phrases that had been hurled her way in the days of their youth from him and Aegon alike. Words that followed her and her brothers throughout the corridors of the Red Keep. Words that coaxed tears out of the eyes of little Jaenara in the darkness of her bed chambers, where no one may see them. 

Aemond would not settle for someone he viewed as inadequate as his niece, and Jaenara would not stoop so low as to marry someone as detestable as her uncle. 

It would be a relationship doomed from the start.

Her mother’s words surprise her. “Aemond has agreed to the union.” Rhaenyra reasons with her daughter, “Alicent is very persuasive in her ways. She knows you to be good natured-”

The remarks earned a bitter laugh from Jaenara.

“-And not unlike him! You have both changed since the days of your youth. You are more alike than you may think.” Rhaenyra continues, “You would not be far from me daughter. Not far from the protection of myself and Daemon. As well as Jace. You would remain at the Red Keep for a time - before and after my coronation and your wedding - and leave for Dragonstone when you are ready.”

“He is vile. He despises me. And you.” Jaenara tells her mother.

“And yet my time at King’s Landing revealed a different side of my half-brother. He was not pleased with this proposal - though he took it much better than you have, Nara.” Rhaenyra reveals. A certain glint shines in her daughter’s eyes upon hearing this revelation, though it leaves as quickly as it had appeared. “Taking his hand will keep you close to me. You will both hold significant positions of power. You need not worry about being shipped off to the Riverlands, or gods forbid - the North - to marry a lord you barely care for-”

“I do not care for Aemond.” Jaenara interrupts.

“I would rather you take the hand of the devil we know rather than a devil we do not.” Rhaenyra remarks.

Jaenara left her mothers grasp and looked around the room before her. The room, which now belonged to her. And Aemond she thought bitterly. She had come to find profound comfort within the walls of Dragonstone. Some would call the castle dark and unwelcoming, though she knew its warmth came from the people within. Its merriment came from her time overhead, in the skies. But now, Aemond meant to ruin her home. Is nothing sacred? The princess wondered. In this moment, her thoughts felt so numerous that they may yet crack open her skull. Her emotions were so varying, she felt as though her heart would erupt from her chest.

Rhaenyra waits for her daughter to face her, and to finally give in to the Crown’s wishes. Instead, Jaenara lets out a noise akin to a wail and rushes out the door.

And Rhaenyra is alone.

— — —

Jaenara Velaryon’s tears finally stop and she feels as though she can finally catch her breath. She recalls the circumstances of the morning over and over, as if it were all just a bad dream she would soon wake up from. Wind whips her dark hair into her face. Salt kisses her lips. Salt from the air and from her teardrops mingle together.

A dragon does not weep.

“Dragons do not weep!” She echoes the words aloud, as if speaking them into existence will make it any more true. The words are carried away by the breeze and escape her.

“Everyone cries, child.” 

Nara does not turn around. She doesn't want her mother to see her cry, as though she were a child reprimanded. Rhaenyra settles into the grass next to her daughter and takes her into her arms. Jaenara feels as though a coldness inside her melts from the warm embrace of her mother, and she allows herself to cry. She was still her mother’s child.

“I am sorry, my girl. My Nara.” Rhaenyra wipes her daughter’s tears away as her own begins to pool in her eyes. 

Huddled in the warmth of her mother, Jaenara feels the anguish of her mother and sees the sorrow in her tears. How cruel it is, she thinks, that a mother could not save daughter from the same fate she once suffered — despite sitting on the most powerful seat in The Realm.

The princess understands sorrow to be a condition of life. A condition of womanhood, especially. But did sorrow have to become a hallmark of her life — for the rest of her life? Jaenara takes a shaky breath. She was a princess, a reality she had enjoyed as a luxury until now, when the weight of duty descended upon her. Marriage, a princess’s duty—she resolved it would not become her undoing, nor the source of her sorrow. Her duty is for The Realm. For her family.

In a moment of clarity, Jaenara understood the folly of her tears..

She sits there another moment, in her mother’s arms. She begins to picture Aemond Targaryen. His one eye, staring back at her with intensity. His sleek, white hair. The curl of his lip. Jaenara knew she could never come to love the man, and would never be able to love her. Duty, Jaenara thinks, is the death of love. 

The princess finally rises up to look at her mother. Sorrow has been replaced with resoluteness.

Rhaenyra had always seen echoes of her past lover, Ser Harwin Strong, in her daughter’s features and had cherished her for it. But now, watching Jaenara, she sensed a dragon’s fire within her.

“I will do it mother.” Jaenara begins, “I will do my duty, I will serve my kingdom and you as its Queen - I will wed Aemond Targaryen.”

— — —

The One Eyed Prince rises from a dreamless sleep. He remains in bed for a moment, his eye adjusting to the early morning light that had begun to creep into his bed chamber. He stares at the ceiling and wonders if today will finally be the day that an agreement would be reached. 

His half-sister and the Rogue Prince had descended upon King’s Landing on dragonback days ago. He regarded the gold and scarlet dragons with little interest. No matter, he had thought, mine is bigger. 

During their lengthy stay, Aemond observed the frenzy that had been set upon the Red Keep. A frenzy that had started after his father’s passing and had only grown. He had sat in on a few meetings between Rhaenyra, his mother, grandsire, and members of the former king’s small council. Some meetings he and Aegon had been privy to - some they were not. His elder brother did not seem at all perturbed by the prospect of his possible throne being wrenched out from under him. He understood Viserys had no intention of leaving him with the crown. And Aemond had thought that the realm was the better for it. 

Aemond and his mother had witnessed first-hand the kind of man Aegon had grown up to be. His sweet sister, Helaena, knew better than the both of them combined. It seemed the only person who wanted Aegon to sit the Iron Throne was their grandsire Otto - though he did not seek this out of the belief that his grandson could unite the realm. He only sought after a new puppet, one he could pull the strings of whichever way he pleased. 

Alicent and Rhaenyra had grown closer in the past few months before the King’s passing. Letters carried by ravens were exchanged, and now the two women almost seemed like the close childhood companions the court had once known them to be. Almost. It was still uncertain if time could truly heal all wounds.

Aemond thought his mother naive. Easily bent to the will of his half-sister. A phantom pain settles in the socket of his eye.

It was no matter now. As a second born son, Aemond had nothing to gain either way. If the gods were fair, he would have been born the eldest. And his weak, malleable father would have named him heir, rather than Rhaenyra. It was no matter now. Dwelling on fleeting possibilities would do him no good. 

Aemond is securing his leather patch over his sapphire eye when there is a rap at his door. Alicent Hightower stands before him. Dark circles sit below her eyes and loose, red curls frame her fair face. The negotiations between his half-sister and his mother’s family were taking their toll. “Your presence is needed in the council chamber. Rhaenyra and Daemon will be there, as well as Aegon and members of the small council.” She tells her son. 

“And so we finally relinquish our power,” Aemond breathes, “under what conditions?”

Alicent’s eyes drop from her son’s and she walks away without another word. 

His mother had always been a distant shroud. As a child she was wordless when he craved encouragement. Out of reach when he yearned for a motherly embrace. He tried not to blame her for this. He heard the stories that circulated the castle - of a girl who grew up without a mother of her own, forced to bring forth babes when she was not much older than one herself. 

So, he was used to her aloof nature. Though her lack of explanation at a time such as this did unnerve the prince. 

Aemond enters the council chamber where everyone else has already gathered. 

“The man of the hour!” Aegon bellows. 

Aemond regards his brother and wonders what has lifted his spirits at such an hour. Aegon delights in the misery of others, and in remembering this, Aemond feels unease.

“Aegon, enough.” Alicent is stern in her words, “Aemond, please sit.”

Prince Aemond sits opposite his half-sister Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon. Rhaenyra’s eyes rake over him, and he meets her neutral gaze with his cold one. Daemon lets out a wry chuckle at the wordless exchange. Ser Criston Cole, positioned at a corner of the chamber, stands stock still.

Alicent clears her throat and begins, “This council has come to a consensus,” Aemond looks to his mother.

“Rhaenyra…will be made to sit the Iron Throne, as King Viserys intended.” she shoots a sour look over to Otto Hightower, who sat on the far side of Aemond. Dismayed grunts and whispers circulate the chamber. “Aegon is to serve on Rhaenyra’s council. Jacaerys and Baela Velaryon are to stay here in King’s Landing. As heir, he will attend council with his mother and will make a place here.”

Aegon shifts in his seat and stares at a corner of the room, obviously bored. As if he had heard this to him recounted numerous times by now. 

“The more the merrier.” he says in a voice so low, Aemond wonders if anyone else had heard him. Aemond then wonders how his brother can be so content with relinquishing rule over the Seven Kingdoms to their sister. He hears Rhaenyra draw in a breath and his cold gaze finds hers once more.

“Aemond. We find ourselves in unprecedented times. One of the last things our father wished was for the infighting amongst his family to cease. We cannot expect the realm to watch as sister fights against brother.” She pauses and Aemond senses the hesitancy in her words. Alicent picks at the flesh around her fingernails. Rhaenyra continues.

“I only wish to unite our families and ensure that everyone has a place amidst my rule. Amongst my court. To do this…your mother sees it best to…” Aemond wishes she would just spit out her decree and be done with it. 

“I wish to wed you and my daughter, Jaenara Velaryon.”

Now that gives Aemond pause. 

Aemond had seen his niece a short time ago, when she and her family had come to King’s Landing to defend her bastard brother’s claim to the Driftmark throne. He had eyed her as Vaemond Velaryon was cut down by Daemon, intrigued by her unwavering gaze despite the horrific scene. He watched her at dinner that night, finding a smile gracing her face at times. He noted the joy she took in watching Jacaerys dance with Helaena. He felt her burn holes into him as he toasted to Jaenara and her brothers. His Strong niece and nephews, he had said. 

She despised him. And he gave her many reasons to. He did not have time to recount the enumerable times he had tormented her and her brothers during their childhood together at the Red Keep. A torment that was dealt back to him by the hands of his nephews.

Though Aemond could not deny, he held some sort of strange admiration for his niece. 

His half-sister's voice returns the prince from his thoughts. “Aemond?”

Aegon does little to suppress his glee. “What do you say, brother?” He laughs and gives him a rough slap on the back. “Will you have your bastard bride?”

Daemon Targaryen slaps a hand down on the table. “Daemon.” Rhaenyra stops her husband before he can speak or act. Aegon quiets once more, though a smug smile settles on his face.

Despite the truth in his brother’s words, Aemond takes offense to them. He found himself feeling that way more often lately, when the slights towards his niece had not been dealt by him. His thoughts return to the situation at hand. 

Aemond understands the position that he is in. This is not a request. It is a command by his new Queen. And by his mother. He considers that this may yet be a fortunate outcome for him. As the second-born brother, he has a small hope of ever sitting the throne. He had dreaded the day his mother would finally pass his hand onto the daughter of a lord that the Targaryens and Hightowers only wish to form political alliances with. Is that the only purpose children served? We are the bartering chips of our parents, he had thought bitterly. But with his niece - with Jaenara - Aemond would rule over the ancestral home of House Targaryen, and that seemed a better lot in life to have. They would retain their status. It could prove to be a comfortable position. But Aemond wondered if this is how low his family truly thought of him - to marry him off to a bastard. A so-called pure-blooded descendant of Old Valyria with hair as dark as the night. 

It was no matter now.

As Aemond considers the future that has been thrust upon him, a new thought crosses his mind. The line of succession.

Jacaerys is her heir.

And if something were to happen to his betrothed’s twin brother before he were to have an heir himself? If The Stranger were to come for the eldest male heir of the crown? Well, then Jaenara would be next in line. The realm had already accepted Rhaenyra as their ruler - surely they could come to accept another woman.

Jaenara Velaryon - or Targaryen - Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. And her King Consort:

Aemond Targaryen. 

It was hard to suppress the wry smile that began to tug on the prince’s lips. Aemond may yet use the cards he had been dealt to his own advantage. He could feel the cold steel of the Iron Throne beneath his fingers - power he may yet reach through his niece. He sat there another moment, as if still mulling over his options.

A sigh escapes him as Aemond once again meets the violet eyes of his half-sister. 

“As you wish, your Grace.” The One Eyed Prince bites. 

[apsomarketing]

[reasonsforhope]

"Sunlight dapples the once-denuded forest floor as saplings spread their branches and leaves overhead, slowly forming a lush canopy.

Beside each young tree, a sign notes its species. Lupuna, says one, the colloquial Peruvian term, and below that its scientific name, Ceiba pentandra — in other words, a kapok tree, known for its cotton-like fibers. Huito, says another sign, or Geinpa americana, which produces edible gray berries.

Each sapling is distinct, a reflection of the Amazon's stunning biodiversity, with so many different species that you might go acres without finding a repeat.

Yet this young forest did not spring up naturally. It has been carefully recreated by humans in an area that was, until just three years ago, a heavily contaminated moonscape.

This land was stripped of its dense vegetation by miners scouring the subsoil for tiny specks of gold, using mercury to separate the gold from the sediment. Many thought that a healthy forest would never thrive in impoverished, mercury-laden topsoil and that the piles of sandy tailings, the residue from the gold mining effort, and the pools of wastewater were irremediable...

"It feels good to see the forest grow back," says Pedro Ynfantes, 66, the miner whose legal mining concession of 1,110 acres includes this 10-acre patch of land where this young forest is located. "We don't want to deforest. When we had the opportunity to let the forest grow back, we took it. It's much better this way."

The opportunity he refers to came via U.S. nonprofit Pure Earth, which works with communities across the Global Southto remediate environmental problems left behind by mining, much of it illegal. Their biggest targets are mercury and lead contamination...

Security forces have launched anti-mining operations down the years, even blowing up the miners' equipment deep in the jungle. But most local politicians, including Madre de Dios' members of Peru's national congress, broadly support the miners, who are a powerful constituency in the relatively sparsely populated jungle region.

Restoring the forest

Pictured: France Cabanillas works for the nonprofit group Pure Earth, which is spearheading an effort to plant saplings in areas of the Peruvian Amazon that were devastated by illegal gold mining.

Now there's an effort to address the damage. Initially working with the region's legal miners, most of whom were here before the 2009 gold rush kicked off, the nonprofit group Pure Earth is using this patch of Ynfantes' land as a pilot project to show how the rainforest can be regenerated after the last traces of gold have been plucked from the soil.

It took a sustained outreach effort. Many miners are wary of or even downright hostile to foreign NGOs, which have repeatedly called for gold mining to be banned or severely curbed in the Peruvian Amazon — steps they say would cost them their livelihood.

"I am feeling optimistic," says France Cabanillas, Pure Earth's local coordinator, who has been appealing to the frustration of many miners at the heavy toll they have taken on the jungle and their desire to minimize their environmental footprint for the next generation.

"We still have a lot to do but this pilot is going well. Down the years, the miners have been getting a lot of stick but not much carrot when it comes to their environmental impacts," says Cabanillas. "We are offering them a carrot, allowing them to remediate their own impacts. Many of the miners do not want to be destroying the rainforest."

Before the miners plant the carefully-selected mix of tree species, they had to prepare the earth. Most of the topsoil had been washed away by the miners' heavy use of hoses.

That preparation involved adding biochar (burnt organic material) and even molasses, which contain fixed carbon and minerals, along with various other nutrients. The miners also had to dig tiny moats around the saplings to prevent all of this new planting from being washed away. Now, after three years, the forest is visibly coming back.

The rejuvenated rainforest also mitigates the impact of the mercury used by many of the illegal miners.

Research done by Pure Earth shows that the barren, sandy soil emits mercury. But in a rainforest, the ecosystem actually absorbs some of the metal, boosting public health."

-via NPR, April 2, 2024

[lumiereswig]

I'm still seeing a lot of angry takes in the tags about how excessive Watcher's current costs are and how all fans really want, apparently, is "just shane and ryan sitting in a basement" back again. While I do think Watcher is probably spending over budget and that's a real issue, a lot of the takes I'm seeing show a fundamental misunderstanding of how video production works and where costs actually lie. So a few quick things that I just keep seeing that are bothering me:

It was never just Shane and Ryan in a basement. BFU did a great job selling that conceit and making sure you never saw anyone beyond them and maybe TJ, but they absolutely had other crew members with them on ghost hunts and they didn't do all the work on BFU themselves. This Q&A from Season 2 lists 36 people on staff for Buzzfeed Unsolved. It's fair to make arguments that Watcher may or may not need 25 people, but those arguments should not be coming from a place of "before it was just Shane and Ryan and nobody else."

If you don't know how many people are needed to make a professional video from a TV/film standpoint, you will not have a reasonable grasp of why Watcher wants to keep 25 people on staff. Sure, some YouTubers get by with a ring light and a contracted editor. The Watcher team have stated repeatedly that they do not want to work as just YouTubers and see themselves more as a production studio—so why do people keep referencing the YouTube model to understand their business? This is like asking the local shake shop why it doesn't function like the kids' lemonade stand down the block. The item category is similar but they're not trying for the same products or process.

The "gold dusted food" is not the big budget sink you think it is. On most TV shows I've worked on it's normal to partner with businesses that are shown onscreen and work out a deal where the price of the product (in this case the gold food) is reduced or eliminated in exchange for the free publicity. Watcher very likely made a deal with every restaurant it worked with to make the Korea trip affordable for the company. The real budget spends are on things you're probably not seeing but that still matter: camera and lighting equipment is expensive, insurance for that equipment is expensive, business overhead and paying your staff are expensive. So again—it's fine to critique Watcher for the streaming plan and the perceived budgetary issues, but go into this knowing the costs might not be coming from the things you see onscreen.

My source is that I work in TV and film and actually have a clue on how the industry functions. Again, 36 people worked on Unsolved (and those were the people mention in Season 2—who knows how big the team blew up past that in later seasons). Entertainment work is real work, and demands decent equipment, competent staff, and the same types of business and budget problems you'd find in any other business (overhead, staffing, etc.). Feel free to critique Watcher's business model, but first try to understand where that model is coming from and what goals it's attempting to serve.

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me #8

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You embark upon 'a Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Word count: 6,600

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Ten days have passed since your home was blown to a million pieces. 

Ten days since you found out that there are multiple universes. 

Ten days since you learned that your universe—the world as you know it—has less than three months left before it implodes unless you can somehow find a way to save it… and yourself.

Despite the fantastical nature of those events, you find yourself returning back to your everyday life, just as mundane and ordinary as ever, cosmic murder attempts notwithstanding.

The helicopter crash was featured across the front page of The Times by morning, and apparently no one was hurt. The pilot had somehow been flung from the helicopter into a nearby window and miraculously survived without even a scratch. The only real casualty was your every worldly possession. 

After a personal calamity of that scale, you’d hoped you might be offered an extended leave from work. Unfortunately, corporate America stops for no tragedy. 

The only thing you're offered is a very sympathetic email the day after with a gift voucher for Dominos attached. Then Sally from HR had let you know that, given the severity of your situation, the company was generously granting you three whole personal days to sort out your affairs. After that you were requested to return to the office—the second quarter of the financial year was beginning soon after all. 

And so you find yourself back at work.

Back to 8+ hours a day spent sitting in your rickety office chair, killing your eyesight in front of your computer screen as you pore over excel sheets.  Back to the same old boring one-on-one meetings with your boss, who keeps harping on about Key Performance Indicators, as if they mean anything. You don’t understand what the point is. No matter how key your performance is, it never seems to be enough to net you a raise. 

“Our total revenue increased by 15% compared to last year, which is a significant achievement considering the challenges in the market, but I know we can do better if we just–”

You stifle a yawn, as you readjust yourself in your chair. It’s Monday morning, and you find yourself in one of the stale meeting rooms, with staler treats that you’re not even allowed to have because they are for external clients only. Your boss is right next to you, droning on and on about how she wants to see better results in the next fiscal quarter. All the while you’re trying to fight the losing odds of keeping your eyes open and the temptation of gravity that wants your head to lay down on the conference table for an impromptu nap.  

“We managed to improve our profit margin by 3% by reducing overhead costs, but we need to focus on further optimizing our operations in order to–”

Out of nowhere, the sound of her shrill nasal voice stops, and for a second you think that perhaps, sweet mercies of mercies, the meeting is finally over. But instead she points out the window and says the last thing you expect. 

“Hey, isn’t that Spiderman?” 

Huh?

You whip your head around to stare out the window so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash, and the sight that greets you is nearly enough to give you a heart attack on the spot. 

Oh, it’s Spiderman alright. Your Spiderman. 

Your maybe-vampire-but-maybe-not (he hasn’t combusted in sunlight yet, but then again he wears a full-body spandex suit) Spiderman.

Your Spiderman is right there in front of you in plain sight on the outside of the building, plastered to the wide wall-to-wall meeting room window. That dark blue super suit with the angry red spider emblazoned on his chest like a neon sign screaming: ‘Here I am!’ 

Your boss skips closer to the window in giddy excitement, until the two of them are only about a feet away from each other separated by a half an inch of glass.

“Look, his suit is different! I wonder if it’s an upgrade?” she exclaims, tilting her head to study him from the window. “He sure is a lot bigger in person, isn’t he?” 

You feel the blood drain from your face, and the whole of your back breaks out in cold clammy sweat against your blouse. Doing your best to act normal, you force yourself to stay seated in your chair despite the shrill scream ringing in your head and the way your heart is threatening to leap right out of your throat. 

What the hell does he think he’s doing!?

Thank fuck your boss still has her back to you, too enthralled by the unexpected superhero sighting to pay attention to anything else. You take advantage of her distraction to gesture frantically at Miguel, waving him away with as covert of a shooing motion as you can manage and praying that he’ll take the hint.

You know he sees you because the triangular outlines of his eyes narrow into annoyed slits and then he turns his face away as if offended, refusing to look at you. But at least he finally moves, leaping into the air and disappearing out of the sight of the window. 

“Oh, shoot! There he goes again,” your boss says, letting out a long, loud sigh as if even she doesn’t want to go back to listening to her own voice for the rest of this meeting. “Well, back to work. Guess that was the excitement for the day.”

Scratch what you were saying before. There are no more completely mundane days. Not now that Miguel O’Hara has entered your life. 

Once upon a time, your biggest dilemma with him was that he was avoiding you, refusing all your attempts to force a face-to-face meeting. Now you find yourself in the strange position of having the opposite problem.

True to his promise, Miguel is always there to protect you. 

In fact, he’s just plain always there. 

Never more than 10 feet away, regardless of where you go. He’s the last thing you see… or rather, hear before you go to sleep, his incessant snoring reverberating off the walls of your shared hotel room. Then, when you wake, it’s to his big 6’9” frame draped across the tiny velvet sofa, his long legs sticking off the end and hanging out into the room. 

Miguel hovers over you when you eat, in case you get another piece of toast stuck in your throat and he needs to do the Heimlich maneuver on you again. Or, like that one time last week, in case you developed another hitherto completely undiscovered food allergy and have to be rushed to the ER. He is constantly on alert, eyes glued to you at all times.

Miguel comes with you when you go grocery shopping at the corner bodega. Sticking close to your back in the cramped aisles, lest one of the shelves fall over and bury you under crates of Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops… again.  He has a sneaky habit of covertly dropping the most nutritiously questionable grocery items in your basket: jellied donuts, sugar-frosted pop tarts, fun dip and jolly ranchers. He eats like a five year old who has too much pocket money and no understanding of the food pyramid. It’s worrying to watch and you definitely google diabetes risk for spiders at least once, but the internet has nothing helpful to offer on that front.

Even when you’re relaxing in the luxury hotel suite that’s become your home, flipping through Tik Tok-edits on your iPhone (the newest model, which Lyla snagged for you!) or catching up on Netflix, Miguel is always right there. Not two steps away from you, looking over your shoulder. 

Being the constant center of Miguel's attention is… disconcerting. You know it’s because he’s watching for the next random disaster to strike, but having his eyes on you nonstop leaves you feeling uncomfortably aware of him all the time. Especially when you’re trying to watch Bridgerton on your new macbook pro (also courtesy Lyla) and an R-rated scene comes on. You’ve resorted to having Lyla order books and magazines for him in an attempt to keep him occupied, but it doesn’t seem to make much difference.

It’s so bad that you can barely go to the bathroom without Miguel guarding the door like a zealous German Shepherd, his back plastered to the nearest wall when you emerge. You try not to let the lack of privacy bother you… or to think about the fact that his spidey-supersenses probably let him hear everything.

The only place Miguel doesn’t come with you is when you go to work, because he doesn’t have the clearance needed to get into the building—tourists and non-personnel aren’t allowed any further than the lobby. It doesn’t stop him from climbing the walls of the building and hanging around outside the 44th floor though. You know he’s there because, you see his shadow blurring at the window whenever you get up to get more coffee or unstick the paper jammed in the printer. 

It’s an adjustment, but for all the madness that comes with the package, having Miguel around does make you feel safe. 

Time always seems to pass too quickly when there’s a deadline approaching. 

The problem is that right now the due it’s not the date of a school assignment or some work project that you’re worrying about. And if you take too long, the consequences will be much worse than a lower grade or a slap on the wrist. If you fail to meet this deadline, it will be the end of the world—not just as you know it, but for everyone in your entire universe.

A week ago you had been dauntless, facing Miguel down across the table at Starbucks and announcing that you intended to fight cosmically impossible odds in order to live. Bold even, when you’d confidently declared that the only thing you needed was three months and his protection from the universe's murder attempts to make that happen.

In retrospect, you might have been less dauntless and more… delusional, because so far the only real progress you've made is drawing up a Master Plan, complete with a bullet point list and no idea if any of it is actually going to accomplish anything.

'A Cosmic Masterplan to survive' - Phase one

Step 1: Personal history:

Identify past wrongdoings

Determine if they could explain cosmic retaliation

Step 2: Analyze incident patterns:

Study recurring near death incidents

Identify commonalities and patterns

Determine strategies to stop or prevent future occurrences

Step 3: Research genealogy:

Explore family history

Investigate any ancestors who may have incurred celestial grudges

Determine if these grudges extend to descendants

Step 4: Examine past life wrongdoings:

Establish if reincarnation is real

Investigate potential past life transgressions

Assess if they correlate with current cosmic retaliation

Step 5: Seek cosmic expert assistance:

Consider approaching Dr. Strange for guidance

Request expertise in understanding cosmic phenomena

Things had started out okay. 

You completed Step 1 in less than a day, quickly compiling a list of all the people you’d wronged in your lifetime. Anything that might make the universe want to intervene on their behalf and dole out some karma against you.

So far, your life's most egregious crimes include:

That time when you wet the bed during a sleepover when you were six and blamed it on your friend Sally Jenkins.

The night you bailed out in the middle of a date with a dentist from Tinder who insisted on ordering for you and kept talking about Alpha and Betas. (It was only after a very confusing and awkward conversation that you realized he was not talking about the omegaverse). You’re pretty sure you did both of you a favor when you told him you were going to use the bathroom before dessert and took off without saying goodbye instead.

That summer you brought only chocolate with coconut back to share with your coworkers after your vacation in Canada so that Matt in accounting (who always steals your yogurt out of the office fridge) couldn’t have any because he's allergic to coconut.

Are those the actions of a good person? Probably not. 

Are they petty? Oh yeah. 

Are they bad enough to justify karmic retaliation from the universe in the form of death? You doubt it.

As for Step 2, despite all the near death experiences you've had recently, there doesn’t seem to be any discernible pattern that could help you predict or prevent future incidents. After all it’s a bit difficult to predict that an impromptu mounted police parade would take place near your office, only for there to be a wild stampede of panicky horses that tried to mow you over. 

Step 3 of your plan? Another dud. 

Your family line is made up of uncles working blue-collar jobs at warehouses, aunties who pester you about being single, one grandfather who likes to talk about how things were better in the old days and a grandmother who likes to complain that you never call every time you call her (and another grandma you actually like because she feeds you sweets and cakes when you go visit).

There are no skeletons hidden in your family closet. Nothing interesting at all except maybe that one cousin who claims to have hooked up with Leonardo Di Caprio at Coachella (unverifiable and unlikely).

Your mission to try to figure out if all of this is caused by any past life connections in Step 4? 

It had seemed like a reasonable thing to look into, but how the heck do you go about doing that? You’ve put it on hold for now.

As for the final step? Your search to seek out cosmic expert assistance is still ongoing.

Contacting another Supe that has a magical expertise in the cosmic should be the most logical avenue. Doctor Strange is the superhero that famously deals with the magical cosmos stuff, so you figured maybe he could help in some way. That it wouldn't be hard for Miguel to reach out to him, one superhero to another.

It’s the one part of your plan you could actually take action on that seems like it might lead somewhere. Problem is, you've run into a big sassy roadblock named Miguel O'Hara. 

Miguel flatly refuses to have anything to do with Dr. Strange. 

His justification? 

"Hate that guy."

Repeatedly pestering him has gotten you nowhere, and it’s not like you, a random normie, can just rock up outside of Dr. Strange’s residence and ask for help because the universe is out to get you. That’s a good way to get yourself hauled away, like that guy from Colorado who was in the news last year for faking a UFO invasion with cheap props on YouTube and then camping out outside of Bruce Banner’s lab. Idiots like that show up from time to time, Superhero fanatics seeking the attention of the Avengers for some fake emergency.

Worst comes to worst, you could probably just stand outside Doctor Strange’s house until something tries to kill you again and hope that he’ll notice, but you’re not sure the universe won’t thwart you on purpose. Probably not the best use of your limited time, especially since you’re out of PTO. 

For now, you’re hoping to change Miguel’s mind through sheer persistence, but given how stubborn the man is, that might be more of a lost cause than trying to thwart the universe itself. 

It’s payday today, and you’ve decided to take Miguel to dinner in Chinatown as thanks for the man’s continuous efforts in saving your life.

As touristy as that area can be, there are some good, cheap diners owned by grumpy Cantonese families that serve large enough portions to feed this horse of a man.

It’s not entirely selfless. You’re tired of being cooped up in the hotel room as soon as you get off work, and you want to stretch your legs. You’re also hoping that stuffing Miguel full of food will make him more receptive to the next round of your arguments in favor of Step 5 of your Cosmic Masterplan. 

But you’ve been here for two hours now, and you’re not sure Miguel knows the meaning of the word full. 

He’s ordered egg tarts by the dozen. Crispy fried seafood noodles drenched in sweet cornstarch slurry. Deep fried turnip cakes soaked in sweet soy sauce. Beef Ho Fun. Every other dish is deep fried and slathered in XO sauce, and you are starting to be genuinely concerned about his cardiovascular health as you watch him shovel it down his maw, barely pausing to chew as he goes.

At least he looks happy while eating? Endearingly so. It’s the only time you’ve seen him relaxed and finally drop his guard a little bit, though you’re sure he’s still aware of every minute detail in his surroundings. You decide it’s better not to say anything since scolding him about being a glutton would be like the pot name calling the kettle. Your wolfish food habits is a shared hobby you have with Miguel at this point. 

“What’s wrong with the egg tarts?” you ask, eyeing the plate that lies still untouched on the table, the only food to have escaped Miguel’s massacre. Given how sweet they are, you would have expected him to inhale them within seconds. 

“I ordered them for you,” he says, not slowing down as he spears more food onto his plate. “Your favorite, right?” 

You nod slowly and reach for one, touched by the gesture but not sure what to say. 

There’s a fleck of sauce smudged on his cheek, a stray rice grain on his nose. He looks like any other civilian as he scarfs down the food in quick succession.

Out of his super suit, he looks different. He’s partial to oversized clothes that makes him look oddly gangly even with his build. You’ve caught him with glasses on more than once, even though you’re pretty sure he’s mentioned that supersight is one of the things he’s gifted with. You can’t help but wonder if he wears them out of a sense of habit or if it’s a conscious fashion choice. Probably the former, given what you’ve seen him wear so far—fashion doesn’t seem to be one of his fortes. All in all, it makes him look like a much homelier person with a slightly nerdy vibe than the handsome superhero when he’s on the job.

He’s softer without the supersuit. Still scowling, but it’s less intimidating when he’s doing it wearing a big hoodie with dumb logos printed across his chest. 

It’s still odd seeing Rude Spiderman in these domestic settings, but you think you prefer him like this.

“How’s your plan coming along?” he asks, mouth full of fried rice as he’s already reaching for a piece of char siu. 

Of course, he has to ask you a question just as you bite into sweet and creamy egg custard. 

“I’m kind of stuck,” you admit, the words muffled slightly by the pastry in your mouth. “I think we need to talk about reaching out to Dr. Strange.”

“No.” He doesn’t even bother to stop eating, still chewing with a gusto as the word emerges.

Nothing more than that. No reasons or explanation given, just ‘No.’ 

Irritation brews in your chest at his unhelpfulness. He’s throwing a monkey wrench into your cosmic survival masterplan, and he won’t even tell you why. 

Too busy stuffing his face with crispy wontons. 

“But why? He’s the only Avenger with an expertise in cosmic magic!”

“Expertise, my ass,” he retorts. 

“Why do you hate him so much?”  You slide the plate of roasted duck across the table, away from him, and that finally makes him pay proper attention. 

Miguel is doing that scowling thing again, first at you and then dropping his gaze to glaring down at his rice and chopstick like he’s about to stab it. 

“Because he’s an idiot. “Doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. Gives terrible advice.” 

“He was one of the world’s leading brain surgeons,” you huff. “I don’t think he’s an idiot, Miguel.”

Miguel leans over the table, sliding the plate back closer to where he’s seated. 

“Being handy with a scalpel isn’t a transferable skill to the supernatural. And he wears a cape. Only idiots wear capes.”

“Wait, what? You don’t like him because he wears a cape!?” you spit out incredulously. You don’t understand this man’s logic sometimes.

“Capes are impractical. Get snagged everywhere. No superhero worth the name would wear one,” he explain as if this alone perfectly justifies hating someone. He stabs a piece of meat with his chopstick and brings it to his mouth. “I will never ask that man for help again.”

Then he inhales the rest of the plate of roasted duck. 

You leave the restaurant frustrated. 

Miguel’s stubbornness remains as immovable as stone, and this big red and blue boulder has left you stuck at a dead end roadblock in the middle of a street, one you don’t know how to get around. He won't agree to talk to Strange, and you don’t know what else to do.

You need divine inspiration, or failing that maybe just… a hint. Something to tell you what direction to go in. Some kind of a sign.

Deep in thought, you turn round a corner, barely noticing how the alley narrows as you keep walking forward.  It’s not until a pile of crates in front blocks your path, forcing you to stop dead in your tracks that you lift your head to survey your surroundings. 

You and Miguel are at a small alley that you don’t recognize, which is weird because you know this area like the back of your hand. Somewhere along the way you must’ve taken a wrong turn.

Just ahead of you, there's a red stall set up on the sidewalk surrounding a small rickety table with red cloth draped over it, a couple of folding chairs set up in front.

Above it is… a giant sign. Fortune Teller, it says. 

Not quite the metaphorical sign you were asking for a few minutes ago, but maybe the universe has given up on subtlety for today. Hey, at least it’s not trying to kill you… unless fortune teller assassins are a thing. Shit, is the universe resorting to baiting traps now? You really hope it doesn’t start setting out poisoned cookies on window sills, because then it will be game over for you and Miguel both. 

You look the stall over, noticing that there are no crystal balls. No tarot cards. No trinkets or ancient scrolls like the ones you see in the movies.

There’s just an old lady. Her head is cleanly shaven, shining slick under the sole street lamp in the alley. She’s wearing a thick robe with a blue shawl draped over her shoulders that seems much too warm for the current weather, and cheap oversized sunglasses perch on her small nose despite it being evening. That outfit is certainly a choice.

Maybe you should be more cautious, but what harm can it do at this point?

The fortune teller certainly looks harmless and frail with her big round cheeks, sitting on a small stool. Even though she looks nothing like her, she makes you think of your grandmother—the one you actually like to call. The grandma who always has cookies stashed away for you when you come to visit.

Maybe she can give you a reading of who you were in your past life.

Maybe she can give you a protection amulet to make the universe chill the fuck out for a while.

Maybe she can burn some incense that will make you relax and get rid of the migraine you've gotten since the universe decided to murder you.

"Miguel." You tug at the lapel of his jacket, and point in the direction of the sign.

He turns around, scanning the space and then his eyes narrow disapprovingly.

"Fortune… teller,” Miguel reads off the sign in a slow skeptic drawl. He doesn't need to say more to express his complete and utter disdain, but that doesn’t stop him.

"You know it's all a scam right? People like this can't actually tell the future. They have no supernatural powers. What they do is cold reading."

It’s entirely unsurprising Miguel doesn't like the idea. There are a lot of things Miguel doesn’t like.

"What else do you propose we do?"

"Ask someone with actual skills who can help us?"

"You were the one who shot down the idea of asking Doctor Strange for help," you remind him.

"I don’t want his help," Miguel shoots back, grimacing as though the mere mention of the name is enough to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"Yeah, so you keep telling me." You continue on to the stall, despite your companion's strong protests.

The sweet old lady greets you as you sit down at the table. She looks even weirder from up close, her bald head abnormally large for her small body. You try not to stare, not wanting to make her self-conscious, but you can’t help but wonder how gravity keeps her head upright. 

“Fifty dollars,” she announces the moment you take a seat. 

Fifty bucks to get your fortune read!? Talk about highway robbery! You could get seven overpriced Spiderman cookies for that. 

“That’s too much.” You shake your head, rising from your seat. 

“Okay, okay. I can do cheaper,” the woman immediately concedes, looking nervous at your sudden outburst, and you have to bite back a smile. 

That was easy. 

“How much cheaper?” you ask. You know how this game is played. 

“Twenty?”

If she’s willing to drop the price from fifty to twenty that easily, you can definitely get her to go lower. 

“Ten.” You cross your arms where you stand, making no move to sit down.

“Are you really haggling over this? You were the one who wanted to do this, and now you’re going to cheap out over ten bucks!?” Miguel says from behind you, but you ignore him. It’s enough to have him there looming over the lady as you stare her down, taking a note out of his intimidation tactic book. 

“Some of us aren’t made out of money, Miguel–” 

“Fine! Ten, I’ll do it for ten,” the lady says over the top of your arguing. 

She’s skittish in the sudden silence that follows, looking over her shoulder to her left and right, as if she’s checking if your loud outbursts have attracted any attention.

Seemingly reassured that there’s only the three of you here, she gestures for you to sit back down and then tilts her head towards you. 

From behind her sunglasses, you can see that her eyes are clouded white from glaucoma, but when she raises her gaze to give Miguel an appraising look from head to toe, it’s obvious that she’s still able to see.  

“Your husband is tall.”

You see Miguel go rigid out the corner of your eye and chance a quick glance up at him. His sour expression hasn’t changed but you can tell he’s uncomfortable from the way his fingers are gripping the fabric of his hoodie where the chain holding his ring is hiding underneath the layers of clothing.

"Can you do a past life reading?" you ask instead, trying to steer the conversation away from anything that might inflict further painful reminders upon him. "I want to know if I could have attracted bad karma in my past lives."

“No such thing,” she says bluntly, shaking her head, "You have no past life. Reincarnation is not real."

That’s step 4 taken care of, you think to yourself, and you think you hear Miguel choke back a laugh behind you. You’re not thrilled that he’s having fun at your expense, but at least he’s not sad anymore. 

"Uh… okay…" You try to think of what else was on your list. "Then can I buy a protection amulet or something? I've had really bad luck lately."

The old granny looks you over appraisingly, eyes traveling from the top of your head as far down as she can see before the table top gets in the way, and her benign and friendly smile fades as she does. 

"No," she says, eyes wrinkling with worry. "An amulet is of no use to you. Just a waste of money."

Oh wow, grandma is really dissing you right now.

She gestures her hand in a come hither motion to get you to lean down, and then pulls out a paper and pen and starts to draw an uneven circle with thick, crude lines.

"See here?" she says as she loops the circle closed, "This is all of us, our world" 

Miguel is suddenly right next to you, hunching down and bent over the small table. You don’t know when he managed to sneak up on you, but he’s right there, so close his shoulder is brushing up against yours. 

The fortune teller moves her pen inside the circle to draw a much smaller one, then a forked line sticking out of it, and another line across the center of that one. It’s so crudely drawn it takes you a second to realize it’s a stick figure. 

"This is you," she points at it with a pen, seeming to admire her own creation.

Next to you, Miguel is staring down at the childish drawing with his hands crossed against his chest in irritation, his right eyelid is twitching. He looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

Even though he’s not saying a word, you swear you can almost hear his inner monologue, protesting the lady’s poor handmanship and drawing skills. He doesn’t need to say it but even $10 is too much of a price to pay, even for a man with infinity dollars.

Seemingly oblivious to Miguel’s irritation, the fortune teller proceeds to draw angry darts from inside the circle aimed at the poor you stick figure. Pressing so hard with her pen that the ink bleeds into the paper and the darts are starting to look like daggers. You almost wince when you see a couple of them pierce through your stick figure. “Outside interference has brought bad luck to you. It will never go away; it will follow you forever.”

You peer down at the paper with a sense of unease. Aren’t scam fortune tellers supposed to tell you what you want to hear? Where are the reassuring lies? Shouldn’t she be telling you that you’re going to meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger? Or that you were a princess in a past life? Since when do they tell you that you’re doomed to die over and over?

“So what am I supposed to do?” you ask. 

“Keep moving,” she says with an unfaltering smile as if she hasn’t given you the most grim fortune telling of all time. 

You lean back in your seat deflated. Scam or not, the prognosis isn’t looking good for you right now. 

The lady ducks under her desk, and is sorting through a pile of junk paper, before she pops back up again. She shoves something into your hands, and leans over to you with a piercing gaze in her milky-white eyes. “The man who will help you lives here.”

Hope sparks bright in your chest at her words. Finally, a lead! Someone who can help you! You can’t believe your random decision to stop has given you the first clue that might actually lead somewhere!

You look down at what she’s given you. It's a pamphlet map of New York. Yellow and bright, the title reads: ‘Star Maps of Celebrity Homes.’ One of those cheap plastic ones they hand out with the tour buses. 

The hope that had been building in your chest deflates, popping like a cheap balloon. 

You make yourself scan the tacky star map for any clues as to who she means, but you you don’t see anything to lift you out of your disappointment. As much as you love Robert De Niro and Whoopi Goldberg and would love to get their autographs, you don’t think any of the people on this map are in any position to help you. 

You sigh. 

Ok, maybe Miguel was right. The fortune teller was a bust. What a waste of money. 

From behind you, you can already hear the rustle of movement from him, as he’s stepping away. 

“Come on, Cielito,” he says as he nods his head in the direction towards the exit of the alley.

The fortune teller grabs your hands in hers, as she leans in closer to your ear and whispers, as if trying to be out of earshot of Miguel. “Be careful with that one. He’s not from around here.”

Back at the hotel, you plop down on the ridiculously wide and fluffy bed, but not even the luxury of your surroundings can lift your spirits. You’re still uncomfortably full from dinner. The overload of delicious egg tarts sit like lead in your stomach, weighing you down. 

Wasn’t there a Swedish king at some point who ate too many sweet buns and died of a burst stomach? Wouldn’t it be ironic if, after all the calamity and disasters you’ve escaped, your gluttony was the thing that ended you? You don’t think anyone who knows you would be surprised to read ‘died from eating too many egg tarts’ in your obituary. It’s perfect. A stupid and meaningless death to match your stupid and meaningless life. 

From the corner of your eye, you see Miguel drag off his hoodie over his head. You squint your eyes, pretending not to look as the tan skin of his firm muscled back is revealed to you before he pulls on a tight-fitting white t-shirt that pulls taut against his chest.

The free peep show usually makes excitement and heat thrill through your spine, but tonight it does nothing. You feel… oddly numb. 

The lights go off with a gentle click, and then you are left by yourself in darkness with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

You don’t know what to do. The fortune teller had been as stupid and pointless as every other idea you’ve had. 

You grit your teeth, sighing as you turn restlessly onto your side in the bed, stretching out your leg to make yourself more comfortable, hoping sleep will claim you so that you can stop these thoughts from running on a constant loop on your brain like the world’s shittiest radio channel. 

God, you can’t believe you spent $10 dollars on that fortune teller, and got nothing to show for it except a crappy map meant for gullible tourists. 

What are you going to do if you’re too stupid to think of any other ideas? Your skin crawls at the thought, a tangle of worry sitting in the pit of your stomach, climbing upwards and trying to burst out of your chest. You roll over, but it only seems to get worse. 

Are you just going to wait out your time like a sitting duck? 

You twist your body, squeezing your eyes shut. The thoughts won’t stop. 

Are you just going to sit here doing nothing? 

Are you going to di–

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeech.

The loud noise startles you, and you freeze, suddenly aware of just how vulnerable you are with only the sheets and comforter for protection. 

Oh god, what is trying to kill you this time? 

Your eyes are wide open with a strain, staring off into the darkness like a deer in the headlights as you listen to the sound of something sharp scraping against the wooden floor.

It’s coming closer. 

Fuck. Is it an assassin? Some kind of otherworldly monster that’s come to drag you to hell with it? 

And where is Miguel? Why isn’t he stopping it!? 

Maybe he’s gone, a cruel voice whispers in your head. Maybe he’s had enough. Maybe he sees what you don’t want to—the futility of what you’re trying to do. Running around like a headless chicken trying to find a way out of the grand cosmic slaughterhouse that is set on ending your life. Maybe he’s given up on you. 

Maybe you need to give up too. 

You’re too scared to risk making noise, but you can’t not do anything. You turn as soundlessly as you can in bed, rolling towards Miguel—hoping with all your might that he’ll still be there to save you—only to be greeted by the sight of his back closer than you expect, hunched over the lounge chair as he drags it towards the bed, the metal legs scraping against the floor, making the very sound that had just scared you half to death. 

You dart upright in the bed, outraged.

“What are you doing!?”

Miguel looks back at you, then down at the chair he’s moving, and then back up at you with that blank expression on his face. 

“Moving this?” He sits down on the lounge chair that’s now next to your bed, “I heard you tossing and turning. Thought you couldn’t sleep.” 

There’s a pause as he peers at you in the darkness, then he rubs his hand at the back of his neck.

 “Shit, did the noise scare you? Sorry, Cielito.”

There’s that nickname again. You don’t remember when it started or where it came from, but it’s something he’s been calling you more and more often. He’s wearing a wrinkly oversized t-shirt and a sheepish expression as he’s eyeing you, making sure you’re okay. It’s almost, nearly endearing. 

“Why do you keep calling me Cielito?” you ask. “Is that what you used to call other me?”

“No, I didn’t call her that.” He shakes his head, the same aching longing in his eyes that’s always there at the mention of your other self. “I called her Nena.” 

“Then why Cielito?”

He tilts his head down at you as if the answer is obvious, and then he breaks out into a small smile. “Because you keep falling through the sky.”

You stare at him in silence for a second, at the goofy looking grin he’s wearing.  He looks so proud of himself and his silly dad joke that you can’t help but smile back, laughter bubbling up and out of your chest. His smile just gets bigger.

What a dork.

You lay back down in bed, still tittering with laughter, and there’s a comforting weight that rests on top of your head for a brief moment. It’s his hand. The touch is pleasant, his palm warm against your skin, and the comfort of it erases the last trace of residual alarm in your body. 

“Just go to sleep already." The words are impatient, but his voice is gentle, and it makes your chest warm as he continues, “It’s okay. You don't have to worry. I won't let anything happen to you.”

He hasn’t given up on you. 

His words drip through your insides and warms you from inside out. It’s comforting, the way a blanket feels wrapped around you in the winter when your heating is out. He sounds so confident when he says them. Like there’s no doubt in his mind that you’ll survive this, because he will personally see to it. The anxious chatter in your mind finally quiets, and you close your eyes, knowing he’s only an arm’s length away. 

Somehow, with Miguel here, the impossible odds you’re up against don’t seem quite so impossible, and hope buzzes pleasantly in your chest as you drift off to sleep. It's the best sleep you've had in a long time.

~ Next Issue

Credits & Dedication: Love a thousand and million years for @thirstworldproblemss who had to finely comb over and beta-read and edit this chapter over and over and rubber duck i with me while I was fixing up the details. I hope that I get to write with her til I go old and grey and senile, because it is the most wonderful joy and experience and I love her so.

This chapter is also dedicated to the wonderful and talented @forwantofwill who was endlessly kind in doing this amazing, beautiful piece of art of Miguel eating cookies in the windowsill Thank you so so much for making this and gifting me not just with your immense talent but also your time!

For those of you who haven't yet please follow her! She's amazingly talented and have such a wonderful blog filled with gorgeous and amazing fanart!

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow astroboots-writes and turn on notifs.

[tozettastone]

Share your writing tag

Tagged by @voxofthevoid in this post (a fic snippet likely of interest to jjk fans) to share a piece of recent writing. Tagging @mixelation, @electrasev5nwrites and @neveralarch to give it a go if they would like. No pressure, of course.

---

The Akatsuki base in Rain was cold. The perpetual drizzle here only sometimes became driving rain — usually when their leader was in a temper — but the constant cloud cover made the daylight grey and cool, and the nights black.

Kakuzu rarely felt the cold. His body was no longer well equipped to provide that information.

Sasori didn't feel it either. When Kakuzu came to the room he and Deidara shared, he found him barefoot and bare-armed, sat in the middle of the debris of what must have been puppet maintenance, surrounded by the rising reek of something heady and flammable. He was a small, slight, teenaged body, with glassy eyes and careless auburn hair. He looked... delicate.

"Tracking him is a waste of time," he was saying, even as he unsealed a box to look through his records for the information Kakuzu wanted. Out came a series of scrolls in various states of disrepair — some pristine, others bloodied, muddied or torn.

"Yes," said Kakuzu, leaning in the doorway still. "It is. Have you got anything?"

Sasori glanced up at him. His doll-like face revealed nothing about what he was seeking in Kakuzu's expression.

Kakuzu looked blankly back. His face, with only its glaring, bloodshot eyes visible, was probably about as expressive as Sasori's. He doubted he was revealing very much.

Deidara watched them both quietly from his perch in the window, where the rain streaked the glass. He always liked windows — probably because they represented the ability to launch himself beyond anyone else's casual combat range at any given moment. Here, he was enveloped in a second cloak, under the first, and had his occupied by a ball of clay that seethed with volatile chakra.

"They won't be able to kill him," Sasori reminded him, pronouncing each word slowly, like he was carefully selecting them, one after another.

"Get to the point." Frustration was a thing Kakuzu felt in his belly, alongside four auxillary, unhappy hearts. It was hot and writhing.

"Fine. We don't have to track Oda. You can just pick Hidan up after the massacre."

Kakuzu said nothing. Sasori's dead, glassy eyes watched him for the space of five disjointed heartbeats.

Oda Hiroto was the kind of shinobi personality that you had to track through secondary influences — he didn't really leave tracks, he left... symptoms.

Generally, he was a trafficker of civilians. To the powers that be, this was inconvenient in some ways: slavery was illegal, civilians died in the process, and he wasn't paying taxes. But of course he was convenient in others: slavery, however quiet, was remarkably effective at reducing overheads — lowering the costs of goods in the unregulated market, in the short term — and diminishing the bargaining power of labour.

Usually, you tracked down a bounty like that by following the money. But Oda rarely traded actual money. He moved goods around and leaned heavily on favours instead.

His bounty was low, because he was more annoying to the major villages than a real threat, and he would be annoying to track, so Kakuzu himself had never bothered. Unless he was coincidentally close and easy to grab, the cost of chasing him had never been worth the payoff.

A week ago, while rummaging through a mayoral office's records for mission-related blackmail, Hidan had blundered face-first into Oda's trafficking operation.

Then he'd dropped off the map entirely. He had not yet resurfaced. Obviously, he hadn't been killed.

So, yes. It was still a lot of time to find Oda. It was still going to be annoying to find him. His bounty was still low, so the payoff would be frustratingly slim.

But now, the line items had rearranged themselves, bright and cold in the ledger inside Kakuzu's head.

Oda's time was up.

"Hmm," said Deidara, in an unpleasant, edged voice, into what Kakuzu abruptly realised was an extremely tense silence.

"I'll look," Sasori said, finally. His voice was steady, but his eyes flicked towards the room's exit, past Kakuzu's bulk in the doorway.

Kakuzu clicked his tongue against his teeth.

"Then hurry up," he growled.

[mayakern]

Why are the clothes you sell so expensive :( I totally understand you need to make a living and all but I don’t think I can drop $50 on one shirt

i totally understand!! and it’s a fair question. thanks to big retailers and, in recent years, fast fashion, most people have been intentionally distanced from the cost and labor that goes into making our clothing (and just about everything else we consume)

basically, when you are making something, the more you make of it, the less it costs to make a single unit of that thing. that may seem counter intuitive, but this is for a couple reasons: 1. the more you make of a single thing, the more streamlined the process becomes and the faster and more skilled workers become at a particular task 2. when you make a lot of something you can buy your materials in bulk, reducing the cost to manufacture a single item 3. when someone places a really really big order for something, they have a lot of bargaining power because if they like what they get, they are likely to return with another large order in the future, and if they put the factory under contract, that is steady, guaranteed work and reliable pay.

i typed this up for a different question recently but it applies here as well so i’ll just copy paste:

of course, if you sell a higher volume, you can not only negotiate a lower PPU (price per unit) based on volume of sales (a factory will make more money from your business if you buy 10,000 shirts for $10/piece than if you buy 1,000 shirts for $12/piece*) but you can also get away with a lower margin because you’re expecting to sell more units to customers. imagine selling 10,000 shirts for $25/ea instead of 1,000 for $35/ea. even with a profit margin of $15/ea instead of $23/ea, you would only need to sell about 1,534 shirts of your 10,000 to make the same net profit and you’d have almost another 8500 shirts you could keep selling.

*these are not real numbers just an example for easy math and to show how stupid manufacturing math is

it’s also much, much cheaper to buy pre-dyed or stock fabric than it is to custom print designs. most large retailers use fabric that has been bulk produced. each of our garments is custom printed because manufacturing bulk custom printed fabric usually STARTS at around 500 yards (way more than we could use for a single design) and a fabric printer starts around $15k and takes up a bunch of room and uses a lot of electricity.

i run a small business with my wife. we do our best to find ethical labor and to pay our employees well, which contribute significantly to our overhead costs. we’re never going to compete price-wise with fast fashion or walmart or even with target. we couldn’t even fathom functioning at 1/100th of their volume. it’s totally understandable that not everyone can afford this or will think it’s “worth” the cost and the things i make are not necessities. i won’t even be offended if people call me overpriced because i know that most people just don’t know what goes into this stuff.

anyway this was long but i hope you found it informative!

[danco110]

“I don’t care how valuable they are. I am not diving for pearls!”

Ral Zarek stood on the lake shore while fuming at the other otterfolk. The divers ignored his irritation as they leapt into the water and resurfaced, clutching brilliant pearls in their paws to show to the transformed planeswalker.

“Aw, c’mon, Mr. Zarek!” chimed one of the treasure hunters. “It’s fun!”

Ral recoiled at the description. “Fun! This is not fun. Fun is…deflecting lightning from a storm cell! Or jury-rigging a generator for your neighbor. Not this!”

“Well, er, I understood some of those words…But anyways, they’re not just valuable. They can also store elemental magic…if you’re into that kind of thing, I guess.”

“Again, I don’t…Storing magic you say?” Ral’s otter tail batted absentmindedly against his legs, causing him to refocus. “Er, regardless! The answer is still a ‘no.’”

But the divers were not fooled. They had seen Ral’s brief interest. Many of the group now resurfaced and attempted to detail to him the potential benefits of using the pearls for such things. But eventually they tired of trying to convince him and swam away, much to his relief.

“Thank you,” Ral sighed in exasperation, “but for one final time: no. Besides, aren’t you all hunting for pearls too? No need to waste time on me, especially on such a beautiful day.”

Most of the other otters shrugged and resumed their diving. But one lingered with a smug grin on her face. “Yknow, Mr. Zarek, it is a beautiful day out, isn’t it? The only thing that’d make today even nicer, is if it was raining, to cool off this hot summer air…?”

Ral rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how you heard about my…talents. But, fine.” With a wave of his hand, the storm mage summoned a sea of clouds overhead. A heavy rain fell from them, earning a cheer from the divers.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.” Despite Ral’s grumbling, a small smile was slowly but surely forming on his face.

[Even though Ral is an otter in his card art, he doesn’t count as one for purposes of reducing Pearl of Wisdom’s cost. Also, the elemental magic may just be a secondary concern for the other otterfolk, but it seems like that’d be right up Ral’s alley!]

[mysteriousquantumphysics]

Circuit Cutting for Efficient Quantum Circuit Simulation

In previous blog posts [1, 2] we talked about quantum circuit cutting - a technique to "cut" quantum circuits into pieces to run them on smaller quantum devices. In particular, for NISQ devices this is a nice method to run larger quantum circuits than usually possible with the limited number of qubits as well as diminishing the effects of noise during the computation [3]. However, such techniques come with the cost of having an exponential sampling overhead in the number of cut wires or gates. Thus, such methods are limited in applicability - namely they work best for shallow, easy to partition, circuits.

"Cutting" for Classical Simulation

No matter the (dis)advantages, the idea of "cutting" circuits into pieces cannot only be applied as a "compilation" step to run cut algorithms on real quantum devices. In contrast, "cutting" can also make classical simulations of quantum circuits of suitable classes more efficient. Why might it be desirable to simulate smaller circuits on a classical computer? The simple answer is that storing statevectors on classical computers requires an exponential amount of RAM, i.e., 2^n amplitudes for n qubits. As only limited RAM is available - similar to the limited number of qubits in NISQ devices - running smaller simulations/computations is desirable. However, there is no free lunch here as well, since cutting also induces an exponential overhead in the classical simulation case - meaning that an exponential amount of smaller subcircuits has to be run and subsequently reassembled again. Thus, the reason why one wants to cut circuits for classical simulations is a bit more intricate: Reducing the RAM requirements can also decrease the runtime of simulating gates (i.e. by matrix-vector multiplication) but as pointed out before, one has to run an exponential amount of circuits which is increasing the time cost again. Therefore, cutting quantum circuits for classical simulation is not always useful; instead, there is a tradeoff between reducing runtime by reducing RAM and the exponential overhead - thus, such techniques are usually only useful for quantum circuits with limited connectivity such that only a manageable number of cuts must be performed. In the literature this cutting is usually denoted as Hybrid Schrödinger Feynman Technique (HSF) [4, 5, 6] - still, the underlying ideas are quite similar to quantum circuit cutting. Let's look at the core idea of cutting circuits for classical simulation and where this aforementioned exponential overhead comes from.

How to Cut Circuits for Simulation

Conceptually, classical cutting of quantum gates (contrasting quantum circuit cutting, one is usually not considering wire cuts for HSF simulation) merely requires performing a Schmidt-Decomposition on the gate(s) to be cut. Considering the CNOT gate, this can be done quite easily by just factoring out properly as follows

where we just wrote down the CNOT gate in Dirac notation and factored out the projector P_0 and P_1 respectively. This can be represented graphically in a circuit diagram as

With this illustration it becomes more apparent what is meant by cutting. We decomposed the CNOT gate, which originally acts on two qubits jointly, into a representation with two contributions (terms) in which each one is bipartite: The first term is just the projector onto the zero state on the first qubit and nothing on the other. The second term is the projector onto the other computational basis state as well as a separate Pauli X gate on the other qubit. You can see that the qubit wires are not connected anymore in the separate contributions that constitute the cut.

If you have a larger circuit that you want to partition into two smaller parts which should be simulated separately and they are connected by a single CNOT gate, cutting would give you two pairs of bipartite circuits. Each of them is smaller than before, thus, faster to simulate. This toy example has a pretty small overhead in the number of simulations, often also denoted as "paths", namely only two. If more gates are cut, this grows exponentially as the number of paths per gate has to be multiplied. Mathematically speaking, this number of paths is determined by the Schmidt-rank of each cut gate. As mentioned before, the Schmidt Decomposition is the core tool to perform cutting and thus, we briefly look into how this Schmidt Decomposition is done in general.

Classical Cutting in General by Schmidt-Decompositions

In order to spare you tedious notation with a lot of confusing indices, let's consider the general case in graphical notation only. Any quantum circuit can be represented as a tensor network [7]. Each quantum wire can be interpreted as leg of a tensor with physical dimension 2 (since qubits have a basis with 2 vectors). Consider some operator A with n=6 qubits (the logic applies for arbitrarily many qubits) as shown in the figure below. Assume that we want to cut this operator in the middle. Originally, operator A has 2n legs , but we can reshape those legs/wires according to the desired cut location as shown on the right-hand side - resulting in two "big" legs with higher dimensions than before. The dimension of the upper and lower big leg is determined by the number of qubits n_a in the upper partition and n_b in the lower partition respectively, in our example n_a=n_b=3. The upper big leg has dimension 2^(2n_a) and the lower 2^(2n_b).

Doing this not only fixes the cut position but is a way of matricizing the previously higher rank object - allowing to perform a Singular Value Decomposition (SVD), which can be applied on matrices (having 2 legs) only. An SVD decomposes a matrix into three parts, two isometries, U and V as well as the diagonal matrix σ containing the singular values (shown diagramatically below). The number of singular values fixes the aforementioned Schmidt-rank [8] of the original operator/gate A which, in turn, determines the aforementioned overhead, the number of paths in the simulation. The isometries can be absorbed into the top and bottom and the remaining sum can be made explicit such that we end up with a bipartite representation, similar to the one shown for the CNOT gate. This allows to decompose the gate into two parts, at the cost of a higher number of paths for the simulation.

Conclusion

Now you know how circuit cutting can be applied for classical simulations as well - it merely requires performing a Schmidt Decomposition in order to find bipartite representations of gates to be cut. Interestingly, performing cuts for classical simulation induces an exponential overhead - similar to quantum circuit cutting for real quantum devices. Even though conceptual differences are present between both approaches, this parallel neatly shows that one can never avoid the exponential complexity of quantum systems: We can merely shift the complexity (e.g. memory complexity into time complexity as for HSF simulation), to hope for nice tradeoffs and computing advantages - but no method can get rid of the inherent exponential complexity of quantum systems.

References

[1] Blog Post "Cutting Quantum Circuits into Pieces - Why and How?"

[2] Blog Post "Quantum Circuit Cutting - with Randomly Applied Channels"

[3] Bechtold, M., Barzen, J., Leymann, F., Mandl, A., Obst, J., Truger, F., & Weder, B. (2023). Investigating the effect of circuit cutting in QAOA for the MaxCut problem on NISQ devices. In Quantum Science and Technology (Vol. 8, Issue 4, p. 045022). IOP Publishing. https://doi.org/10.1088/2058-9565/acf59c

[4] Aaronson, S., & Chen, L. (2016). Complexity-Theoretic Foundations of Quantum Supremacy Experiments (Version 2). arXiv. https://doi.org/10.48550/ARXIV.1612.05903

[5] Markov, I. L., Fatima, A., Isakov, S. V., & Boixo, S. (2018). Quantum Supremacy Is Both Closer and Farther than It Appears. arXiv. https://doi.org/10.48550/ARXIV.1807.10749

[6] Burgholzer, L., Bauer, H., & Wille, R. (2021). Hybrid Schrödinger-Feynman Simulation of Quantum Circuits With Decision Diagrams. In 2021 IEEE International Conference on Quantum Computing and Engineering (QCE). 2021 IEEE International Conference on Quantum Computing and Engineering (QCE). IEEE. https://doi.org/10.1109/qce52317.2021.00037

[7] Blog Entry Pennylane, "Tensor Network Quantum Circuits"

[8] Nielsen, M. A., Dawson, C. M., Dodd, J. L., Gilchrist, A., Mortimer, D., Osborne, T. J., Bremner, M. J., Harrow, A. W., & Hines, A. (2003). Quantum dynamics as a physical resource. In Physical Review A (Vol. 67, Issue 5). American Physical Society (APS). https://doi.org/10.1103/physreva.67.052301

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 5.2k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

Notes: Part one is linked here!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

The doors to the council room chamber finally shut, leaving only Alicent and her two sons by themselves. A tense air looms overhead, and Aemond Targaryen sits stiff in his chair, considering all that has just happened. 

I am to marry Jaenara Velaryon.

A funny feeling settled at the bottom of Aemond’s heart. Truth be told, marrying his niece was far from the worst possible marriage partner he could imagine. Aemond would never speak it aloud, but he had always found Jaenara strikingly beautiful. While she did not bear the signature Targaryen white hair, she shared their bewitching lavender eyes. Hers had always been an interesting shade, he had thought. And Jaenara had a remarkably Valyrian face. Many people amongst the court — even his mother Alicent — had stated that Jaenara was a spitting image of Rhaenyra in her younger years.

Aemond also admired his niece’s curious personality, which was an understatement. One second, she could be as cold as the winters of the north. A moment later, she would exhibit a kindness and warmth only read about in stories. She was a welcome challenge, Aemond thought. 

Jaenara, he remembered, is also a skilled dragonrider. She had a strong bond with her dragon, and had quickly honed many skills and tactics that many within their family — including her brothers, had struggled with. 

Perhaps there was more to admire about this match than he initially believed. 

Aemond finally raises his gaze to his mother and brother.

“I never thought you’d be one to play matchmaker, mother.” Aemond tells his mother, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone. Amusement to mask his uncertainty. Alicent looks at him incredulously, wondering how her son could joke amidst such circumstances. 

“Oh you didn’t know?” Aegon scoffs, “Mother has already done this before. Can’t you see how happy Helaena and I are together? Surely you and your beloved bastard will also be a sight to behold.” 

Aemond opens his mouth to retort his brother's jabs but his mother beats him to it.

“Enough!” Alicent slams an open palm onto the table. Aegon scoffs once more and rolls his eyes. Their mother’s eyes hold sorrow. Guilt. She has nothing to say in rebuttal. What could be said in face of the cold truth?

Aemond is about to leave when his mother finally speaks: “You will speak to Jaenara with more respect from now on if you are expected to sit at her mother’s council…” she trails off, as if unsure of her own words.

“I seem to remember you spoke of her the same way not too long ago - what was it you called her? Plain-featured?,” Aegon says, “Though your criticism of Rhaenyra and her litter of bastards has lessened over these last few months. Has the Queen snuffed out your senses too?” 

“Aegon,” Alicent’s voice is heavy, “Aemond. Rhaenyra only has everyone’s best interest in mind. She is following her father’s dying wishes - your father’s dying wish. We were both with him in his last moments…” The woman before them clad in green closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“I know what has happened in the past. But this is our opportunity to put it at rest…”

Put it at rest? Aemond feels disgust at his mother’s sympathies. They took my eye. They made my childhood the nightmare it was. They chipped away at me bit by bit.  

“You say this about the same people who robbed me of an eye, mother,” Aemond responds coolly, “The same people who faced no consequences for this. I have seen how this has tormented you, even years later. As you have with me.”

The prince can see the conflict that bubbles below his mother’s surface. Alicent turns to her son and does something unexpected. She takes her hand in his. 

Aemond’s eye softens for the smallest moment.

“My son. There is no mending what has been left in the past. But there is still time to mend the future. I only wish to see you happy.”

He shakes out of his mother’s grasp. “She will do no such thing.”

Aemond stands and makes a brisk exit for the door. Leaving his mother and brother behind, and himself to his thoughts.

Someone will pay the price. And I will make him pay for it in blood.

The prince does not find sleep so easily that night. He challenges himself to imagine the look that would grace his niece’s face when her mother would have to break the news of their arrangement to her. He wondered if her lavender eyes would narrow in disgust, her lip curling in a snarl, anger palpable. Or perhaps she had looked to her mother with quiet surrender, making no reaction and solemnly accepting his hand. He decided she had done the former. Jaenara had always been a rather animated young woman - and that was putting it lightly. Even in their youth she had been this way.

In the quiet of his chambers, Aemond finds his mind enraptured by the princess. 

He is reminded of a time she had scolded him when she was a girl no older than six, and himself only seven, for pushing her twin to the ground and giving him a scraped elbow. The only person who managed to stop her tirade had been Rhaenyra. Aemond recalls the young mother scooping her twins into her arms, one flailing around still shouting at him whilst the other had tears streaming down his face. The prince smiles almost fondly from the memory, surprising himself.

The next memory that came to him happened a few years later. Aemond had more often found himself at the center of ridicule, frequently dealt by Jace and Luke. Oftentimes by Aegon too, though he chose to ignore that detail. The young prince had always felt distant to the rest of his family, as though he were different - lesser than the rest of them. And how could he not, as a dragon-less Targaryen. He was a dragon without wings. And his nephews had made sure he was aware of this. Aemond recalled how his blood boiled at the thought that bastards such as his nephews - such as Jaenara - had dragons. And yet, he did not. Was there something wrong with him? Had there been a reason his egg had not hatched alongside him in his cradle? Was he unworthy?

The taunting had reached a new level when Jaenara’s brothers had gifted Aemond a pig. Something he was much more worthy of rather than a dragon - they had said. He remembers when his nephews had revealed the creature to him in the training yard. Even Aegon laughed at him, so loudly it had caught the attention of Jaenara, who had been on the far end of the square speaking with Helaena. Aemond remembered how her gaze had turned to him - how he waited for her to join in on the teasing and laughing. 

No such thing happened.

Jaenara bounded over to the group of boys, a quiet storm forming behind her lavender eyes. Helaena had opted to hang back from the debacle, watching the impending uproar with rapt attention. 

“Think that’s funny, do you?” Jaenara had asked aloud when she finally reached their group. 

Silence. 

Jaenara continued, “I seem to remember that you yourself Jacaerys - you have made very little progress in even mounting Vermax.” The young boy averted his attention to the ground, suddenly very interested in a mound of dirt near his feet. The reprimanding had not stopped there.

“And you-” She turned to Lucerys, “You on the other hand may be able to mount your dragon, though you find yourself on the ground within seconds.” She looks between her brothers, and then to Aemond. Each holds their gaze with the other for a few moments.

“Neither of you have any room to be acting as though you are real dragon riders yourselves.” She seems to have finished, turning on her heels and running back to Helaena.

“AND TAKE THAT PIG BACK!” She yells over her shoulder. Aemond watched as his sister and niece strode away, arm in arm. He returns his attention to Jace and Luke, whose faces are the same shade as their house colors. Aegon’s laughter fills the yard again.

This incident had shown Aemond a different side of his niece. For an instant, he was filled with an immense regret for all the times he had ever been cold to her. The times he had called her a bastard. The times he had joined in on Aegon’s belittling of her and her family. She had taken all of that - for years on end - and still defended him. He couldn’t really understand why.

He can do little to prevent his least favorite memory from entering his mind. Aemond takes in a breath and closes his eyes. He remembers the night at Driftmark. The night he had claimed Vhagar. The night he lost his eye. 

That time had been different. Jaenara had not been present when the fighting had broken out - not until Rhaena had frantically found her and told her of what was transpiring, unsure of what to do herself. When his niece entered the room, Aemond had been on top of her brother. The sight had sent the young girl into a frenzy and, without fully understanding the context of the situation, she had flung herself onto Aemond and wrenched the boy off of Lucerys. 

“Get off of him!” She had screeched. With her arm wrapped around Aemond’s neck, Jaenara threw herself back and they soon found themselves on the cold floor. “What do you think you-” Her question remained unanswered at this moment - this singular distraction turning Aemond’s attention towards his niece. He remembered the bewildered look on her face, her black hair coming loose from her braid. Her white night dress and the light purple robe that clung to her. A bead of blood on her bottom lip. She had always had a bad habit of biting it, Aemond had noticed. Hard enough to draw blood. The blood began to trickle down her chin.

It was the last thing his good eye had ever seen before Luke split open Aemond’s face, from his cheek to his forehead. His own blood splattered onto Jaenara’s powder white gown, staining the cloth forever.

Darkness. A scream.

Aemond sat up in bed, blinking away the rest of the memory. He opened and closed a fist. Yes, he was sure of her response now. Jaenara was not happy about the prospect of this union, and had surely let her mother - and the entirety of Dragonstone - know this. Where she lacked Velaryon parentage, Jaenara’s Targaryen fierceness made up for this tenfold. 

She will meet her match.

Aemond would swallow his pride - swallow his grudges against his niece, and become her husband. Though, he decided, she should not expect much from him. He held no love in his heart for her. Surely no romantic love. He would use her as he needed, to obtain what he wanted - power. That, and retribution for the slight that his family had suffered in having Rhaenyra as their Queen. Though some of the weaker members of his family would not see it his way.

He circles back to the dark thoughts that had crossed his mind earlier. He would be doing his soon-to-be wife a favor in getting rid of her twin. She would be made heir to the Seven Kingdoms. It was probably the closest act akin to love Aemond would find himself capable of accomplishing during their relationship. And he would help her to rule. He was nothing if not helpful.

He could make it look like an accident. He had previously considered poisoning Jacaerys. Aemond would not act until a comfortable time into his marriage, so as not to raise suspicion. Though he decided, suspicion would be raised regardless if the heir were to suddenly drop dead in the middle of dinner. He hardly thought that hands clenched around the throat, skin purple, and eyes bulging out of his head would seem inconspicuous.

Poison was out of the question.

Aemond Targaryen feels a sudden sense of dread in plotting his own nephew’s demise. The dread only grows when he truly pictures carrying the act out himself. If he were ever to be discovered, The Realm would christen him with the title of Kinslayer. 

To be a Kinslayer is to be despised by The Gods. To be damned to the Seven Hells. 

Aemond is unsure if he harbors enough hatred in him to carry out the act, though he certainly is no stranger to being on the receiving end of such hatred. 

He considers if he possesses enough complacency to suffer the consequences, should they be dealt. He wonders if his heart is as hard as everyone else believes it to be.

And yet…

Unable to find sleep, Aemond climbs out of bed once more. He dresses and finishes the outfit off with his long black cloak, throwing the hood over his head. 

The One Eyed Prince slips out of the Red Keep and ventures into the Streets of Silk, hoping to find some semblance of comfort. 

— — —

Candlelight illuminates the face of the young princess as her eyes scan the pages of a rather large, rather dusty book. In the days before their inevitable departure, Dragonstone had become a whirlwind of busy servants and flustered royals. All of Jaenara’s possessions had been packed away and taken to King’s Landing ahead of time with the family’s servants, save for the text seated in her lap. In such a tumultuous time, the young woman found solace in its pages. 

Jaenara had read the story of Rhaenys Targaryen, one of Aegon the Conqueror's sister-wives, so many times she felt she could recite the text backwards. Visenya had been a sister more remembered and revered by history for her valor and fierceness as a warrior; though Jaenara found herself drawn to the gentler sister. Rhaenys was more of a revered politician than a feared warrior. To Jaenara, she was just as formidable. She wanted to be like the Queen. Loved and feared. 

A knock upon the door turns her attention away from her histories. Jacaerys enters her chambers and lingers at the door for a moment, before resigning himself to sit next to her on the plush bed. 

“Jace,” Jaenara breathes, closing the text. 

Jacaerys looks over the book. 

“Again?” He attempts a small smile. 

Jaenara gets up from her place on the bed to create some distance between her and her brother. She places the book on her writing desk, taking mental note not to leave the book behind when she leaves tomorrow. “I find comfort through her in times such as these.” she responds shortly. 

Jace sighs, “You have been avoiding me.”

“You have made it easy.”

“Nara,” Jacaerys begins to sound annoyed, “You are not the only person who has had to…adapt to this change.”

Jaenara turns swiftly towards her brother, loose raven tresses swaying behind her wildly, “No, but I am the only person amongst us who had had their hand sold to a snake. You cannot understand my grief, Jace! You are betrothed to Baela - sweet Baela. You two actually like each other. But I am condemned to be the conciliatory sacrifice of this family.“

You are being unfair. Jaenara says to herself — she knows it to be true. You are being difficult. But she cannot help it. Her twin was afforded the luxury of being born a man. A man who did not have to face the same realities she currently found herself in.

Jace shifts on her bed, frame creaking under him. He seems to struggle finding his words, “I…you are right Jaenara,” He sighs, “I do not know what it is like. Just as you do not know what it is like to now be heir of the Seven Kingdoms.”

She glances at him and her twin continues.

“We both have the burdens of our parents to bear. We wear crowns too heavy for us.” Jace is solemn.

Jaenara bites her lip hard and lets out a shaky breath. A sickly sheen of guilt settled in her stomach. It was true that she had not considered what the rest of her family had been feeling of late. She seats herself beside Jacaerys and the bed groans under their weight once more. 

“I am sorry Jace.” Is all she can muster up.

Jace places a reassuring hand over her own. “You may yet make some use out of your upcoming marriage.”

Confused, Jaenara looks to her brother.

“Aemond is a fierce fighter. He is well versed in the histories and philosophies. I hear he has become a knowledgeable strategist. He rides the largest and oldest dragon, who is no stranger to battle.” Copper eyes meet lilac eyes. “And with you as his wife, he will be in our pocket.”

“He would be a formidable ally to have. But Aegon holds a seat on mother’s council - not Aemond.” Jaenara asserts.

“I as heir and you as his wife could sway this decision.”

“Mother has not even been crowned and you are already scheming.” Jaenara’s words are not so chiding as they are playful.

“Not scheming. I only hold our best interests in mind.” Jace tells his sister.

She looks him over once more. When had they become so…grown-up?

“You tell me you are fearful of wearing the crown one day…I think you will come to wear it well.” Jaenara softly smiles as Jacaerys scoffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just think it over, Nara,” He turns to the door, “You must rest. We rise early in the morning and depart for King’s Landing.” 

Before he leaves, he throws a glance at his sister over his shoulder. “I won’t let any harm come to you…from him.”

Jaenara does not let on how much the words mean to her. She has always disguised her true feelings under a cover of dripping sarcasm. “You need not worry about me, brother. Perhaps you should protect him from me.”

Jacaerys laughs and leaves again.

As Jaenara climbs into bed, she considers her brother's words.

Where he may prove to fail as a husband, he could make up for as an advisor. A weapon.

The princess blows out the candle and dreams.

In her slumber, Jaenara is face to face with Aemond Targaryen. He stands opposite to her, in front of a throng of people. She looks down and sees herself clad in an ornate dress of scarlet, white, and gold. Her black hair is pinned up in several twisting braids. The One Eyed Prince looks to his beautiful bride, eye full of admiration. For a moment, she thinks he might love her.

She thinks she may like that.

Suddenly, gasps are heard around the crowd. The gasps morph into shouts, scattered all over the Great Hall. A sharp pain. Jaenara feels a sticky warmth envelop her cheek, and feels something dribble onto her wedding gown. She reaches a trembling hand up to her face, pulls it back, and watches blood soak her palm, dripping below her wrist and all the way down the length of her arm. The wails echoing throughout the hall only grow around her. It is maddening. A sickening pop makes her blood run cold and she watches as one of her eyes rolls onto the floor below. 

Her husband’s mouth moves yet his voice comes out delayed, a haunting chorus.

An eye for an eye.

Jaenara wakes to another knock at her door. 

“My lady, may I help you dress?”

The princess wills her breath steady and wipes the sweat from her brow.

“Come…come in!” She calls out to her handmaiden. 

There was no time to dwell on the meaning of dreams.

— — — 

Prince Aemond sits across from Helaena as her children busy themselves with their toys. A handmaiden hands Jahaerys a toy dragon, which the boy launches at his brother. 

“I think I will be glad to see them today,” Helaena says suddenly, looking up from her embroidery, “In truth, I have missed Jaenara.”

Aemond continues to watch his niece and nephews play as he answers his sister, “You may be the only one amongst us who feels that way,” He mutters, “Though I do remember how close you and Jaenara were as children.”

Helaena had been an even lonelier child than she was now, as a lonely young woman. Always murmuring words that his family could not understand, and did little in trying to understand. Aemond had always felt sorry for her. But Jaenara did not seem to mind her aunt’s off putting nature. He recalls them as young girls, running throughout the castle gardens together, trying to catch butterflies. He remembers as they grew older, a few young ladies in court had taken to calling his sister, Helaena The Hysterical.

Before Aemond could put an end to the name calling, Jaenara had done it herself. The girls in court would not so much as look at either of them wrong.

And most of all, Jaenara listened to Helaena. Something nobody in his family seemed to do. Not even him, in truth. 

“I would hope you two can become close as well,” She gives her brother a wistful look, “You are to be married.”

“I think us siblings are doomed to hold strained relationships - at best - with their marriage partners.” Aemond replies. 

Helaena looks down at her sewing. Maelor and Jaehaerys fight over a wooden horse. Aemond’s sister remains in front of him, though she looks as though she is worlds away.

“Those child led astray finds solace in the embrace of the sea.” she whispers.

Aemond’s attention is redirected from children to mother. A silence passes over him and his sister’s handmaids.

More innocuous ramblings, he thinks.

A servant enters the door to inform the sibling’s of The-Queen-To-Be’s arrival.

“Come, sister,” Aemond begins, “Alicent will be waiting for us. She wishes to receive our family in the Great Hall.”

Helaena sets down her embroidery and looks up at her brother, “A dragon’s ambition foretells his own undoing.” 

Aemond chooses not to hear her words.

— — —

Jaenara and her family’s reception in the Great Hall could not have felt more strained. Guarded expressions and tight lipped smiles adorned Alicent and her children - though Aemond and Aegon had not smiled at all. Helaena seemed blissfully unaware of the anxious energy surrounding her. Jaenara had sent a secret smile her way - a genuine one. And though she felt her uncle’s eyes boring into her, she refused to meet his gaze. 

Rhaenyra had been displeased by the whole ordeal, hoping to ease tensions at dinner. Jaenara found herself remembering the last dinner she had shared with her entire family and thought it to be an impossible task.

Jaenara had spent the time before dinner settling into her new chambers, though all her belongings had already been settled into place before her arrival. The room felt more inviting than her chamber’s in Dragonstone, which were drab and dreary. Though, this was the only silver lining she could find about her circumstances thus far.

When the time had come to prepare for the evening, the princess disrobed from her riding leathers, the smell of dragon peeling off along with them. Her handmaidens help her to dress in a gown that Rhaenyra had picked out for her.

I do not even have the agency to dress myself now?

Jaenara stepped into a dress of crushed velvet, a dark teal in color. The neckline was embroidered with pearls, illuminating her collarbones. The sleeves of the gown hang loosely and open at her wrists, revealing a pale cream color which lines the teal. A belt of silver bangles mixed with pearls hangs around her waist, crested above the teal, cream, and aquamarine shades of fabric that pool to the floor. The attire bore the unmistakable air of Velaryon fashion. The wearer, not so much.

Portions of Jaenara’s dark silky hair were re-braided into a ring, as if it were a crown sitting atop her head, while the rest of her hair remained loose. Black waves ran down her back like a waterfall. 

Her ladies had been told to do this, to help her into a fine gown. To adorn her ears and wrists with bangles. To fix her hair in a way that flattered her face.

To impress him.

She almost laughs out loud at the thought. Jaenara figured that Aemond would find her as charming as he had found that pig he’d been gifted all those years ago.

She decides to regard him similarly, despite her thoughts drifting to long platinum hair that she envied so much. 

Her maids had finally finished with their work. 

Jaenara is sitting around a great wooden table in the dining hall, with the entirety of her family. Servants have begun to deposit plates filled with meats and vegetables and pies and cakes all around. The clanking of plates and silverware fills an otherwise quiet room. Jaenara is begrudgingly sitting next to her uncle, and Jace and Luke shoot her looks of pity from across the table. She picks up her glass and takes a swig.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra Targaryen speaks, “I wish to clear the air,” She begins and everyone looks up from their plates. Alicent Hightower seems especially stiff. 

“I do not wish for this to be a time of tension and formalities - though I do thank you,” She looks at Alicent directly, “for your welcoming reception earlier today. I want us to speak freely amongst each other. I want only what our father, Viserys, wanted.” She makes a gesture towards her siblings at the end of her sentence. Aegon clears his throat.

“There is much to discuss in the coming days, but I want this to be a night of camaraderie and celebration.” Her mother stands, drink in hand, “Let us raise our glasses-”

Jaenara feels herself melting into her chair.

“-To the union between my cherished daughter, Jaenara Velaryon, and the prince Aemond Targaryen. May their union bring strength and prosperity to our noble houses, and may it be blessed by the gods." Her voice held a hint of cautious optimism, echoing the hopes and dreams of a realm poised on the brink of new alliances.

Jaenara lifts her glass, as well as her attention to the man next to her. Aemond is already looking at his niece, a smirk on his face. 

To everyone’s surprise, Alicent Hightower rises from her seat. She looks less burdened from the words of Rhaenyra.

“Thank you, Your Grace…for your unflinching understanding.” The two women share a look, “And to Jaenara and Aemond. A lovely match indeed.”

Helaena begins to clap, though no one else around the table shares her sentiments.

Aegon lets out an audible laugh at the toastings, “Apologies,” he adds quickly, “I am just so - overjoyed by this…marriage.” His voice drips with sarcasm. 

Jaenara forces a smile, though her eyes shine with a different expression, “I am happy this match pleases you, uncle.” 

However, Aemond does not let the jab pass unanswered. "I hope your joy does not swell too greatly, brother," he retorts, "for dragons have been known to breathe fire when overshadowed." 

Jaenara sits up straighter when she sees Aegon roll his eyes and throw back his cup. She regards Aemond with a quizzical gaze. The princess regarded Aemond’s retort as nothing more than a brotherly spat. Before any more slights can be passed around, the servants finish bringing out the rest of the food. The family begins their dinner and small conversations break out amongst those resigned to sit next to each other.

The princess watches her brothers laugh with Baela and Rhaena. Sees her mother and step-father speak with one another. She pushes her food around her plate.

The sudden sound of Aemond’s voice makes her jump, “The cooking of the castle staff does not please you?” he asks, amused.

Jaenara stops playing with her food and her eyes cut away to her uncle.

“The first conversation you wish to have with me - in years - is whether or not I like our meal?” her voice drips with condescending skepticism, “As if the fate of the realm hinges on my opinion of pigeon pie?”

He tsks at her, “Always so difficult niece. I am only attempting to make conversation. An endeavor that seems beneath you - a pursuit you avoid at all costs if it is with me.”

“You are just…quite bad at it.” Jaenara remarks.

It is Aemond’s turn to take a sip of his drink to hide his annoyance.

“I do enjoy that…costume you’re wearing. But you are more a Targaryen than a Velaryon - don’t you agree?” Aemond says lowly.

Jaenara knows his remarks are meant to be demeaning, though she tries to take it in stride. She was a Targaryen after all. And she was pleased that she acted so much like one that people took notice, even if it was Aemond. But an insult was an insult all the same. 

Exasperated, Jaenara turns to the prince fully, “Is this what I can expect when married to you? Insults thrown at me for all my days to come? You should know I can deal them out as well, twice as hard.”

Aemond chuckles, “You are too easy and quick to provoke, Jaenara. You are too tense.” She sees something flicker beneath his eye.

Aemond took pleasure in goading his niece, reveling in the predictability of her fiery responses. More silence passes between them. The prince watches Jaenara force a few bites of food into her mouth and continues to eavesdrop on conversations around her. Daemon whispers something to Rhaenyra, and her mother takes a glance at her daughter and half-brother. Jaenara winces. 

“You asked what you can expect being my…wife,” Aemond’s surprisingly soft gaze is already fixed upon her, “You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love. But one founded on mutual…respect. Understanding. We shall navigate this pact with the grace and duty befitting of our situation if you would only allow it.” His words somehow put her at ease.

Jaenara is perplexed. Maybe her mother had been right in saying that Aemond had changed. Though she was skeptical of his remarks. It was yet uncertain whether they could truly let go of all that had transpired in the past. 

Although, the princess felt ever the faintest tinge of disappointment at his words.

“Well…” She begins, though her words do not come out as strong as she would like them to under her uncle’s intense stare, “I am…pleased to hear that. We do not have to feign ignorance then. I expected nothing more from us.”

To Jaenara’s dismay, Aemond seems amused. It is not so often she stumbles over her words. His gaze lingers over her. He takes notice of the pearl that sits prettily below her collarbones. He watches her eyes fall to her hands, which she wrings in her lap. Jaenara finds that she does not like how being at a loss for words makes her feel, and decides to throw back her drink, trying to find comfort in the bottom of the chalice.

[rabbiteclair]

every time I do my annual performance review session I am so glad I no longer work at a big corporation, where it was a weeks-long process of talking with my manager about whether I had met my Performance And Development Goals

which were mostly handed down from my boss's boss's boss's boss, and looked like:

Support the development of the HIPARK project. [which would be some project I knew nothing about, four departments away and completely unrelated to me, but a big priority for upper management]

Foster a culture of innovation to allow our company to maintain a competitive advantage. [okay but you're making me work with tools from 2003 and I haven't been allowed to make a meaningful decision in 9 months anyway]

Streamline our processes to reduce overhead costs. [management is the one dictating the processes, so what do you want from me here]

Ensure proper labor charging. [aka something that's a basic requirement of the job, but that everyone was constantly fudging because the system was terrible, so management was always upset and putting more requirements in place, which forced people to fudge further to get anything done]

Deploy and support the EMRQ project. [which would be the one thing on the list actually related to my job, but something that I finished in like... February]

my better managers would bullshit a reason within this framework to give me the rating they felt I actually deserved, completely unrelated to my actual on-paper goals.

my less-good managers did things like tell me to my face, "listen, all of your work is great and you're one of my most productive employees, but, they've said that they're really restricting the number of high ratings this year, and the team next to ours handed out lots of high ones already. so I'm rating pretty much everyone on this team as below average so the department doesn't get in trouble."

[meeting-strxlight-archived]

@lex-cursus liked for a starter - no longer accepting

╭──╯ . . . .. . . . ╰──╮

It wasn't everyday that Terra got to partner with someone; much less someone from Japan. It was a rare chance for the British-born Cop to fly international on business, a joint investigation put in place between the United Kingdom and Japan itself.

Everything that happened over the past day wasn't normal for her. If she'd ever considered there to be a God above, Terra would have considered all of her luck be put into this one moment.

36 hours ago, British Ultranationalists attacked a Japanese Embassy; inside, an English businessman met with a Japanese contact, looking to discuss matters of national importance to both countries. To those that were looking to undermine their relations, the masses were convinced it was to do with drugs and human trafficking; both topics of current importance.

The meeting was leaked from within, with both nations suffering losses as the embassy were blown up; England, quick to look into the matter to ensure nothing further happened to the reputation between them both, sent Terra overseas to Japan to meet with Japan's own "Hunter".

A woman, from the briefing. One of Japan's best, from what Terra were told. Stern, cold, collected; taller than she was by several inches. Black hair, dark red eyes...

╰┈➤ ❝ Yoshika... Yow... Shee... Kah? Is that how you do Japanese names? ❞

It had no image attached; a shy sort, Terra figured, as slender fingers flicked through the briefing folder. It was with a sigh she'd lean back into her chair, eyes glancing outside to the world below.

Japan was finally coming into view; private jet's really did make flying easier. Towers and buildings below blurring together as she flew overhead at blistering speeds, the ground slowly becoming recognizable as the aircraft began its steady decent. The cost of this, though, wasn't something Terra wanted to consider. Just another piece of anxiety to add onto the growing list.

What was Yoshika like? Would she be cooperative, or was Terra going to have to do the legwork on her own? Would they even show up to the airport, as designated in the paperwork?

The glass of wine - Chardonnay - sat full in the holder besides her, the cop circling the rim of the glass with a painted fingernail. She wanted to look her best for such a short-trip notice.

Normally, she wouldn't hesitate to have a drink to relax, but relaxation felt so far away right now. Her mind, already racing with ideas and suspects, was far too wired to consider alcohol a fix to her problems.

With the plane landing, Terra would step off into the warm-but-cool ground of Tokyo Airport, hand resting on her hip as glasses were slipped off her face, the arm pushed into her blouse to hold them steady.

╰┈➤ ❝ So much for Japan being as cold as home, huh? Alright, Yoshika, where you at... ❞

Across the tarmac and inside the Airport itself; ushered in via a downstairs VIP door. Truly, her Government spared no expense to get Terra in quickly; a bomb search was conducted, her firearm inspected and passed back.

She really didn't expect to get that through the door.

Heading upstairs to ◤General Arrivals◢, Terra's eyes scanned the crowds; a smaller number than, again, anticipated. Was this the Japanese Government's work to reduce numbers here...?

Her time for conjecture was over, however abrupt it were, as violet eyes settled in on the only person that could be her new comrade-in-arms.

Tall, long black hair, dark red eyes, and...

Those muscles. She clearly worked out; Terra, in comparison, was fairly lean. She could hold her weight, for sure, but this woman was something else.

"A true Tyrant, huh? Sweet Jesus, what does she bench... Easily my weight."

Her first thought was to shrink away into the non-existent crowd; but that wouldn't do her any favors. Nor could she treat this stranger how she'd originally intended; friendly with a slice of British charm.

╰┈➤ ❝ You've gotta be my contact; Yoshika, right? Name's Terra, at your service. ❞

A flash of the badge at her hip was hopefully all she'd need; a brief recall of the mission file said that Yoshika could speak English, right? Maybe her own accent made it hard to pick up on her words, or perhaps it sounded like slang?

A quick bead of sweat formed on her upper brow, smile shakily fading as she got up close. She'd been given a translator to use - speech to speech, which was a blessing - though Terra was hoping not to use it so early.

She had to be confident; this woman oozed confidence out of her body like an aura, her stature and stance nothing short of powerful. Terra was, for the most part, glad this woman was on her side.

Tilting her head upwards to get a proper look at Yoshika's face, the human - she couldn't consider Yoshika human, not at that height - would take a step backwards to properly take her partner in.

╰┈➤ ❝ I appreciate you pickin' me up; apparently the rental car's not far from here, either. Can you believe they've got us ridin' in style? ❞

First rule of being confident; fake it until you make it. Thus, Terra would stride off in the direction she hoped was vehicles. A particular model waiting for the both of them, though it was of Terra's request that they got a state-of-the-art Mustang.

Was Yoshika authorized to drive? Did she have a license? Terra was confident in her driving, to be sure, but perhaps the Japanese native would want to cruise her own roads?

It would be something to discuss once they got there, for sure. Plenty more conversation to be made on the road, too; like how she got so big, what a hunter was, her speculations for the case.

There was a lot Terra didn't know about her partner, but there was one thing she was certain on.

They'd crack this, together, and with each others help, put this madness behind both countries.

[jonathanshaw4747]

Why Canadian Companies Prefer Digital Marketing Agencies over In-house Teams

In the ever-changing digital landscape of Canada, companies big and small have to make one very important decision: develop an in-house digital marketing team or hire the services of a dedicated agency. Far from being a routine operational issue, this choice has great implications for its competitive position, market relevance, and general growth trajectory. With the digital platform becoming increasingly complicated and the stakes of online visibility soaring high, a trend has definitely been witnessed across Canadian companies: that of choosing between the expertise and agility provided by digital marketing agencies over in-house teams.

Expertise and Specialization

This has been one of the major reasons for the tectonic shift in the approach of Canadian enterprises. Digital marketing is not a monolithic discipline but a constellation of specialized areas, each with its own particular demands in expertise. From SEO virtuosos to social media savants, content marketing maestros to PPC prodigies, agencies house a cadre of specialists under one roof. Such an assemblage of talent allows businesses to tap into a wellspring of knowledge that would be prohibitively expensive and logistically challenging to cultivate internally.

What is more, the digital marketing field keeps on changing 24/7, since that is when algorithms, best practices, and consumer behaviors change at the speed of light. This places agencies in a much better place to be updated due to their focus and the heterogeneity of their client base. They undertake heavy continuous learning and serious means of professional development investment to ensure that their strategies remain at the cutting edge of industry changes. This means a commitment to staying current translates into better marketing solutions for their clients-more effectively and innovatively.

Agency versus in-house: financial implications are huge and multi-dimensional. At face value, the retainers or project fees associated with agency services might appear huge. However, a close look will reveal that this is not true on the cost-efficiency level. By outsourcing an agency, a business may significantly reduce overheads like salaries, benefits, office space, and equipment, which are kept by full-time employees.

The next strong economic case lies in the fact that it can make that great sense of scalability and flexibility. It eases the opportunity to adjust marketing spend against seasonal demands, special campaign needs, or fluctuating economies without getting into the complexities of hiring or drastically reducing an internal team. That elasticity of resource allocation permits better budget efficiency and implores optimization of Marketing ROI.

Technology and Tools

The digital marketing arena is the haven for sophisticated tools and platforms-most of which come with heavy price tags, coupled with steep learning curves. Agencies, able to use economies of scale, invest in a wide array of premium software and technologies that would be financially unviable for most individual businesses to acquire. From advanced SEO tools to full-service social media management platforms, agencies arm their clients with the technological arsenal needed to drive marketing effectiveness.

Besides tools, agencies often have state-of-the-art analytics and reporting. These systems allow for the granular tracking of campaign performance, consumer behavior, and ROI. Insights gained from these advanced analytics become the powerhouse that drives businesses into making data-informed decisions and fine-tuning their marketing approaches with strategy precision.

Strategic Objectivity

One of the most overlooked benefits of hiring a digital marketing agency is the fresh perspective it brings to the challenges a brand faces. Sometimes a company's internal teams, despite being quite familiar with the brand, can suffer from tunnel vision or be stuck in paradigms. Agencies, drawing on diverse experience across industries and markets, have become a fertile source of new solutions and unconventional creative approaches, which for those within the organization can be virtually invisible.

This objectivity extends to performance appraisal as well. Large agencies are usually held to very tight KPIs through which they are accountable to deliver measurable results. The setup ensures a very transparent culture of business betterment, whereby the agencies fall under pressure to prove their strategies right and value-proposition-valid on a regular basis.

Time and Resource Management

For most Canadian businesses, more so for the SMEs, the job of dedicating or committing resources to build and maintain a fully-fledged in-house digital marketing team is surely going to distract them from their core business activities. By outsourcing such functions to an agency, this energy is freed for product development, customer service, and other mission-critical activities.

Furthermore, more often than not, agencies are in a much better position than in-house units to implement marketing initiatives. With the established processes, loads of already-vetted resources on standby, and a lot of previous work to its credit, an agency can consequently save time throughout the process from conceiving of the strategy to launching the campaign. This agility is paramount in the fast-paced digital landscape, where usually the early bird catches the worm.

Many of these digital marketing agencies boast of having an extensive industry network, including influencers, media, and technology partners that can open various doors of opportunity to collaboration. Beta programs and early access to new marketing channels/features fall into this category. To Canadian businesses, this is quite an invaluable asset that networks with potential new customers.

Moreover, most agencies have good relations with key platforms, such as Google, Facebook, and LinkedIn, which provide them with the latest features, premium support, and, in some cases, almost privileged rates. More probably than not, such partnerships are passed on as tangible benefits to the clients to enhance the effectiveness and efficiency of their digital marketing initiatives.

As a sustenance of risks

The regulatory requirements associated with digital marketing, encompassing privacy, advertising standards, and the specific policies of these diverse digital platforms, make hazardous minefields for businesses. This adds further pressure on digital marketing agencies because they possess specialized knowledge and experience in ensuring that their clients work in conformance with these regulations. This becomes even more crucial in instances involving Canada, where there are regulations like CASL, which is anti-spam law dictating strict requirements on electronic messaging.

Additionally, the agencies adapt by nature through adaptation to market changes. Their diversified client bases and regular activities with businesses in various industries enable them to identify and respond to the change in consumer behavior, change in technology, or economic conditions very fast. Adapting to the situation at hand helps hedge against potential risks associated with sudden changes in the market which could render several marketing strategies irrelevant.

Performance and Results

What's arguably most convincing in the move towards agency partnerships is the attention to accountability and measurement of performance. Most of the agencies operate on performance-based models with clear KPIs and reporting structures that generate tangible means through which firms realize their marketing return on investment. In other words, therefore, the approach is results-based, with continuous optimization of marketing to align with business objectives.

As such, agencies can contribute to performing competitive benchmarking. With many years of experience across industries and data, they can paint a view for a business regarding its relative standing in digital marketing performance from its competition and industry benchmarks. Such a comparative perspective may also help them zero in on opportunities for performance improvement and areas of differentiation.

The Future of Digital Marketing Partnerships in Canada

The trend of Canadian businesses partnering with specialized marketing agencies is showing no signs of abatement in the evolving digital marketing landscape. The recipe combining experience, the advantage of being cost-effective, technological advances, and strategic value when working with an agency makes compelling economic sense. And, of course, in-house teams will always have their role; it's actually quite important for big organizations. The passed "advantages to this kind of approach are flexibility and comprehensive capabilities available to organizations of any size.".

The collaboration with a digital marketing agency is considered an investment in terms of growth strategy and competitiveness. Increasingly, this is a cost consideration that Canadian executives are factoring in as Canadian businesses strive to find their way through digital complexities—and as a result, a way to innovate the catalyst for success in the long term.

[sitp-recs]

Hi Liv! I just want to let you know that your blog is the only thing getting me through grad school. It's my one moment of solace before going to sleep. Do you know any fics where Draco is some kind of hedonist and introduces Harry to all the luxuries he's been missing so far? I need that in my life!

Oh anon, I’m sorry grad school has been rough! I know I don’t miss those days 😔 very happy to hear the blog offers you comfort and solace. And I love the hedonist!Draco take, I wanna find more fics like that tbh! Here are some great reads that came to mind:

Still Life, orphaned (2019, M, 3k)

Cake by astolat (2016, M, 4.3k)

Harry tried not to care when after the war, everyone he knew seemed to have made an agreement to stop paying attention to birthdays.

Steal/Keep by @shealwaysreads (2021, E, 4.6k)

The stealing was all Hermione’s idea, though Harry still doesn’t think anyone would believe him if he told them.

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (2020, E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters. A chance encounter with a mostly-naked Draco Malfoy exposes him to an entirely different world, one much more colourful than the lonely one he currently occupies—but at what cost?

Reparatio by astolat (2016, E, 17k) - maybe not a perfect fit but I couldn’t resist, this fic is brilliant

Draco snorted. “I’m not reduced to penury. I want something considerably beyond money, and I rather think you’re the only one can give it to me.”

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (2019, E, 21k)

Harry is not living in a period drama, no matter what his friends or his new house or Malfoy’s sudden affinity for horse-riding might suggest, and if one more person uses the word courting, he’s going to start hexing people.

A Summer in Bordeaux by @zigster-ao3 (2021, E, 28k)

Harry turns. Malfoy leans against the doorway to the back garden under the halo of a gaslamp dangling overhead. The warm glow of the flame casts him in a golden light, and he’s framed on either side by trailing grapevines cascading over the garden walls. So soft, Harry thinks, where the Malfoy in his mind once seemed so sharp.

Shine, Even in the Darkness by raitala (2014, E, 41k)

Harry hasn’t seen Draco for over fifteen years, but now he’s showing up everywhere and Harry is sort of weirdly attracted to him, but that can’t be right?

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo (2021, E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Against All Odds by momatu (2015, E, 54k)

Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (2022, E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 83k)

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less.

[scbhagat]

Bookkeeping Services in Delhi by SC Bhagat & Co.

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