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jomiddlemarch · 4 months

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By Yonder Shining Star

He had not expected to begin with a reprimand.

“I don’t bite, you can stop lurking in the doorway,” Dr. Blythe said, not glancing up from the chart she was writing in. Foyle suspected she would have sounded much the same if he’d come upon her while she finished closing an incision after a long surgery, the same wry tone that had a hint of impatience in it. There were few enough female surgeons in England, even fewer egalitarian ex-pat Canadians, so it didn’t take much to infer she must be brilliant and driven, used to those around her finding her an anomaly. An Original, they would have said once in London society and been more accurate perhaps, but not a remark he’d offer if he wanted to get anything helpful from her. That’s why he was here, he reminded himself. It had been a long while since he’d needed reminding about his work.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said. “I’m—”

“You did mean to interrupt and you’re Detective Superintendent Christopher Foyle of Hastings,” she said as she laid the pen down. He’d heard her described as “attractive enough” and had wondered enough for whom before he met her. Now, he found himself pinned by her grass green eyes, startled into silence like a green lad, feeling a fool as he hadn’t for years.

Decades really. Sam would burble in wonder to see him struck dumb while Milner would only give a brief and comradely nod of recognition.

“You’re well-informed, Dr. Blythe,” he said.

“You expected that,” she said. “That’s why you’ve come, to pick my brain, to winkle out some piece of information, some cipher that will break the code you can’t. To solve your case. It is a Godawful mess, I’ll give you that. The pathologist’s report was quite detailed. Almost literary.”

“I’ve come to ask for your help,” he said simply. Because he thought she’d prefer it and because it couldn’t think of what else he might have said.

“You might as well sit down. You’ll have to forgive me—I can’t offer you a cup of tea or even a biscuit,” she said. “I haven’t an assistant who sees me fed and watered.”

Something about the way she’d said it was an alert.

“The other surgeons do. Any of the nurses are glad to fix them a cuppa,” Foyle offered.

“I don’t know about glad, exactly, but it’s in that general way. I’m meant to fend for myself. It’s my own fault I’m not much good at fending. I was spoiled, growing up, with our housekeeper Susan. There was never an evening without a little snack prepared and her solution to any problem was the teakettle on the stove and a slice of fresh pie,” she said. She had a square jaw and her auburn hair was sprinkled with grey and tucked back in a practical snood, but there was a certain whimsical nostalgia in her expression. “She was a splendid bustler, our Susan, and that you may tie to, Mr. Foyle. And now I’ve run on and run and you want my help or whatever help you think I can give you, so you may as well begin winkling.”

“You have a way with words,” he said.

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me. I’m by far the least eloquent person in my family. It’s no accident I’m a trauma surgeon,” she said.

“It was an observation,” he replied. “And it’s because of your family I’ve come to speak with you.”

“It’s Walter,” she said, any dry humor entirely gone from her voice, from those arresting green eyes. Saying the name of her brother dead these twenty odd years aged her; Foyle saw the lines her face fell into when she despaired, the nights of grief that never entirely abated.

“Yes. Because of what he wrote, Dr. Blythe,” he said, wondering if the clarification would bring her any relief. Wondering at himself for thinking of that first. Rosalind, who’d ever been generous, would not begrudge him an interest, a possibility, but he worried what it meant for his duty to the dead men, whose murders he was charged to solve, no matter that other men were dying across the Channel, that he risked making Diana Blythe’s hand unsteady when she held a scalpel or a needle trailing suture.

“A poem,” she guessed. Hoped? The alternative was most likely one of his letters, perhaps one he’d written to her, one she wouldn’t want to surrender or corrupt by handing it over to be part of a criminal investigation.

“Yes. The poem, the famous one,” Foyle said.

“The Piper,” she said, her color back. “He’d have hated it, positively loathed what happened with that. All the breathless sentiment, the rallying and the women who memorized it, that sickly sweet melody Tremaine wrote for it—I swear it would be tattooed over half of Canada and all of PEI if people thought it was within the bounds of polite society. It’s not even close to his best work, I want you to know—”

“I know. I met him. In the trenches,” Foyle said.

“Fuck,” she said softly. And then, “I beg your pardon, I shouldn’t speak so—”

“Plainly? You can’t imagine I’d take any offense,” Foyle said. “I met your brother only a few days before he died.”

“Before Courcelette.”

“Yes. I was very young and he wasn’t much older, but he’d been fighting for several months longer than I had, maybe a year. I didn’t think anyone could live that long in that hell and still find something worth living for. Could still remember anything beautiful,” Foyle said.

“It was that bad?”

“It was worse,” Foyle said. Something in her face told him she would not challenge this, nor would she make him explain. Rosalind hadn’t done either, which was why he hadn’t cracked up entirely before Andrew was born. “Whatever he wrote to you, it was worse.”

“He didn’t tell us anything. Not even me,” she said.

“You were close,” he said.

“I thought so. The night before he died, he wrote a letter. To our younger sister Rilla and a friend, Una. She was in love with him, Una, we all knew that, but he didn’t love her that way. I thought we were close, closest to each other over everyone, but he didn’t write to me,” Diana said.

“Perhaps he couldn’t. Perhaps he knew you would be able to tell if he held something back. If he lied to try and protect you,” he said.

“Perhaps. Is that what you did, Detective Superintendent Foyle? Did you lie and keep secrets?” she asked. No one had ever dared before, not Rosalind, who’d admitted once she did not want to know everything about him.

“Christopher. My name is Christopher,” he said. “A long time ago, I was Kit. That was when I knew your brother.”

“I’m Diana. How does Walter’s poem have something to do with a triple murder?”

“There have been five murders thus far,” Foyle said. “It’s complicated, will take some time to explain. There’s a Lyons round the corner, quiet enough this time of night. We might have that cuppa—”

“If there have been five murders and somehow my brother’s poem is crucial to finding the killer, I’ll need something stronger. Bitter will do. I’d offer to stand you a pint, but I imagine that’s not considered ethical,” she said.

“No, nor gentlemanly,” he said, surprising himself.

“We’ll go Dutch,” she said, getting up from her desk and walking around to take down her coat and cram her barely fashionable hat upon her head. The coat flapped around her legs, obscured in a pair of drab tweed trousers, an unremarkable pair of brogues on her feet. She was beautiful.

“We haven’t much time,” she said, passing him at the door.

“I know it’s late. You must have an early surgery tomorrow,” he said.

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant. I ship out in a few weeks,” she said.

“France?”

“France,” she said. “I never wanted to go before. And now I can hardly wait.”

“I won’t waste your time,” he said.

“No, I don’t think you will,” she replied.

#foyle's war au #aogg #christopher foyle #diana blythe #christopher foyle x diana blythe #crossover au #dr diana blythe #walter blythe #the piper #both walter and foyle served in wwi #excerpt from a slow burn I probably won't write more of #for clarity this is all there is #I just imagine it as part of something larger #rosalind foyle #foyle's war

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raainy-daze · 2 years

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Hidden In Plain Sight

halloween special !

2012 raph x gn!reader

summary: do you ever wonder about what’s really lurking around on halloween? what can so easily walk among normal people without even earning a second glance?

well, you hadn’t until you realized this principle could probably apply to your mutant boyfriend. the hard part, really, was convincing him to help you babysit.

word count: 2302

warnings for some swearing

a/n: welp, here you have it guys. by far the longest oneshot that is going to be in these seasonal oneshots. i don’t know if it’s because i had this more planned out, or because raph’s my favorite, or what. yknow actually now that i think about it it’s probably because im out of town and i write better in hotels for some reason. OH WELL whatever the reason, happy halloween!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Ah, October, the month of spooks and scares. There’s a chill in the air, and celebrations have begun.

The moon was rising in the sky. It was a beautiful sight. It wasn’t full, but maybe the was a good thing. A full moon on All Hallow’s Eve would be quite the omen.

The crescent you had instead was arguably more beautiful, really. The clouds also quite added to the atmosphere. You would’ve grabbed your phone to take a picture, but you knew it would just come out blurry.

“(Y/N).” You were pulled out of your musings by a voice next to you. “That child is staring at me.”

Your attention was drawn to a child standing a few feet away from your front porch. A little girl dressed as Wonder Woman, her eyes were wide, and her father was distracted talking to one of the other neighborhood parents. Raphael was staring right back at her. He’d been on edge all night, and you could imagine why. He wouldn’t exactly be used to being up top without hiding, or even having any kind of attempt at a disguise.

“It’s fine. Kids don’t have a great grasp on ‘special effects makeup’.” You finger quoted around the cover story. “I had a friend do zombie makeup last year, little kids did not like it.” You reached aside for the candy bucket and held it out, attempting to ease the tiny Wonder Woman out of her fear. “Hey! Want some candy?” Only on Halloween was that not creepy.

With some encouragement from her father, she tentatively approached. “Trick or treat.” She held out her basket, and you dropped a Snickers in it. “Thank you!”

“See? She’ll forget by next week.”

You and Raphael were sitting on your front porch, handing out candy to the first trick or treaters of the night. For the first time in basically ever, Raph was without disguise in plain sight. It was Halloween, so you doubted mutants would bring much attention to themselves, especially with how good people were getting at costume makeup. It took significantly less convincing to get him to hang out with you tonight than you thought. You suspected some part of it was likely to spite Leo’s warnings, but hey, a win’s a win.

“So, when’s the kid going to be here?”

“Oh, Angie?” You checked your phone. “Any minute now, I think.”

“Trick or treat!” You looked back up and smiled, passing each child a piece of candy. “Why don’t you take a turn for a bit?” You held the bucket out to Raph, who only narrowed his eyes at it. “Alright then, geez. Grump.”

“Hey, I’m not a grump!”

“Yeah, sure, hun.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, you’d pass out candy to trick or treaters. When you saw a certain little girl in what you could only assume to be a yeti costume approaching, you set the bucket down atop a paper sign you’d made, which instructed those who read it to take two pieces.

“That’s Angie.” You nudged Raph, still sitting. “Hi, Angie!”

“Hi, (mr/ms/mx) (Y/N!)” She waved a hand at you eagerly. Mrs. Milner trailed behind her daughter, practically jogging to keep up. Her hair appeared somewhat frazzled. The woman herself often seemed somewhat frazzled, really.

The Milners were family friends, and you babysat Angie on the weekends more often than not. She was a sweet kid, if a bit hyper.

“(Y/N), hello!” Mrs. Milner smiled at you. “It’s good to see you. Thank you so much for this.” She reached into her purse before noticing Raph. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Mrs. Milner, this is my boyfriend, Raphael. Raph, Mrs. Milner.”

“And Angie!”

“Yes, and Angie.” You watched as she reached into the bucket on the porch, pulling out two Starburst candies.

“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you. Your costume is very impressive. Are you a samurai alien?”

“Uhh, sure.” Watching Raph stumble as he attempted to adapt to this environment was… well, it was entertaining to say the least. It seemed like everything cut him off guard. “Ninja, technically.”

“Oh, I see!” Mrs. Milner pulled out a wad of cash from her purse and handed it to you. “Thank you again, (Y/N), it means a lot.”

“No problem! I’ll drop her off at your house in a couple hours.”

Mrs. Milner gave you a grateful wave of the hand and began strolling off. “Have fun! Angela, be good!”

“I will!” Angie waved back at her mother. You were pretty sure she already had one of the Starbursts in her mouth.

“Hey, no more candy until we’re done, okay?”

“Okay,” she spoke with her mouth full. You turned back to Raph, who was standing somewhat stiffly.

“It’s alright if you want to go on home, Raph. You don’t have to stay.”

“No, no! I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine?” As per usual, he immediately jumped to the defensive.

You shrugged. “If you’re sure. It’s fine if it gets a little too much, though. Angie, you ready to go?”

“Mm-hm!” The girl instantly jumped up from her gremlin crouch on the porch. She was practically jumping up and down; you couldn’t help but wonder how much candy she’d already had today.

With that, you were off. From the moment you began crossing the street, Angie was pestering Raph with every question she could think of.

“Why are you coming with us?”

“Because (Y/N) asked me to.”

“Why is your face green?”

“Face paint.”

“What are those?”

“Sais.”

“Can I hold them?”

“No.”

Angie ran up on her own to the first house. She was outgoing enough that you usually could just stand back and keep an eye on her.

By the third door down, Angie had already successfully begun tearing at Raph’s nerves.

“How is it that one kid can talk so much?”

“She’s six, she doesn’t have a filter yet.”

“Hey, cool costume, dude!” Every time someone passed and made a comment on Raph’s ‘costume’, he seemed to tense up a little more. This time, he instinctively reached for your hand. You gave it a squeeze. “You’re sure you don’t need a break?”

“What, you calling me weak?”

“Being overwhelmed isn’t the same as being weak, Raph.”

You were met only with a huff. Angie came running back up to you. “They’re giving out full size candy bars!” She waved a Hershey bar in your face. This house gave out candy bars every year, but you weren’t going to point that out.

“That’s so cool!”

And so you continued around the neighborhood. Angie started asking you to go up with her at the more creatively decorated houses. You couldn’t help chuckling at the giant skeleton in the Delaney’s front yard. Where do you even get a lawn decoration that size?

“Trick or treat!”

“Oh, now aren’t you the cutest… white monkey?”

“No, I’m a sasquatch.”

“Oh, I see!” Mr. Delaney dropped a small bag of M&Ms in Angie’s basket. “And what are you supposed to be, (Y/N)?”

“I’m the scariest thing of all. A normal person.”

Mr. Delaney chuckled. “Oh, remember when you were little and you came in that Disney costume? Oh, which character was it…” You glanced back at Raph, knowing you’d be here for a couple minutes. Mr. Delaney’s nostalgia always took up a bit of time for Halloween.

By the time Angie successfully got you away from the old man’s stories, Raph seemed to have eased up a bit. He didn’t flinch at people anymore, at least. Angie ran ahead again, to no one’s surprise. “Hey, stay close!”

“I will!”

You slipped your hand back in Raph’s. “Well? How’s all this?”

“I have had three different people try to start a conversation.” Time for your favorite game! Is Raph pissed, or does he just have resting bitch face? “People up here are too social.” He’s pissed! You weren’t sure the ‘resting bitch face’ theory ever proved true. “Other than that, it’s pretty okay though. But I swear to god, if that kid asks me one more question-“

As if she heard that statement and decided she did, in fact, want to drive Raphael to the brink of insanity, she ran back up to the two of you, attention directed at him.

“Mr. Raph, what’s your favorite candy?zl

He seemed to just stare in disbelief at Angie. You wanted to say you had enough faith in him to not loose his temper in front of a child, but maybe it’d be better to step in anyways.

“Raph likes Twix. Twixes? Twixi.” You paused. “I don’t know the plural.”

“Pretty sure the answer is ‘none of the above’.” Raph raised a non-existent eyebrow at you.

“Shut up.”

You came up to the Carters’ house. The Carters were known for one thing around the holiday season, and that was how all-out they went on their decorating. Whenever you watched Christmas with the Kranks, you couldn’t help but think of the Carters.

This year was certainly no different. The trees across the front lawn were covered in fake spider webs, and the arch over their front door had been decorated to look like a mouth. You even thought you noticed some fake blood smeared here and there.

Angie had hidden herself behind you, just as most six year olds would. “Spiders. No.”

“They’re not real, Angie.”

“But spiders!”

“Do you want to skip this house?”

Angie looked up at the house, as if examining every risk factor. “No…”

“Well…”

Raph tapped your shoulder. “I’ll take her.”

Of all the things you weren’t expecting. “You sure?”

“You’ve asked me that, like, two dozen times over the last hour.”

You took that as a yes. “Okay then.”

Raph crouched down. “Oi. Kid. Come on.”

“But I don’t like spiders.”

“Does anyone like spiders? Look, they’re not gonna hurt you. And hey, if they wanted to hurt anyone, they’d go for the kid in front first. You’d have plenty of time to run away.”

Angie narrowed her eyes. “But they can’t move.”

“Exactly.” You could practically hear the ‘says who?’ he bit back.

Angie had been coaxed towards the door within just a couple minutes. You stood on the sidewalk, trying to process what the hell just happened. Raph never would’ve done something like this without an ulterior motive. Or at least an ulterior motive to use as an excuse. Especially not in front of so many people, even if they were strangers.

Your questions were answered when he came back into sight, munching on a Kit-Kat. You should’ve figured.

“The spiders didn’t eat me!” Angie smiled at you.

“Yeah, I see.”

Raph handed you the second Kit-Kat in his hand. “Grabbed one for you, too. If you’re going to take a kid trick or treating, you should at least take advantage of it. I mean, c’mon.”

You laughed, unwrapping your own chocolate. “Fuckin’ bastard.”

The Milners’ house was just on the next block. You let Angie collect candy from the last couple houses, and then you walked up to her own porch with her. You rung the doorbell for her, and were quickly answered by Mrs. Milner.

“Trick or treat, Momma!” Angie threw her arms open.

“Oh, well what a surprise!” Mrs. Milner laughed. “Did you have fun?”

“I had lotsa fun! Look at all my candy!” She held her candy basket up to her mom. You smiled and looked up to Mrs. Milner.

“Was she good?”

“She was great. Good luck with the inevitable sugar rush!” You quickly briefed Mrs. Milner on the night, Angie occasionally interrupting with her own story. You were astonished that Raph made it through the entire interaction without any sarcastic comments.

Just as Mrs. Milner was about to shut the door, Angie exclaimed, “Wait!”

She stepped up to you and Raph again. She set one of your favorite candies in your palm, and a Twix in Raph’s.

“Happy Halloween.”

You grinned. “Happy Halloween, Angie.”

“Happy Halloween, kid.”

You and your boyfriend began the walk back to your house. “See? She’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, sure. She still talked my ear off.”

“But she gave you candy.”

Raph didn’t respond, probably due to the fact that he was in the process of chewing said candy.

You fished around in your pocket, and pulled one of the two twenty solar bills Mrs. Milner had paid you with and handed it to Raph. “Here you go. You helped, so you get half the pay.”

Raph looked down at the money, and back up at you. “(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“How often do you think I actually use money?”

You paused. “… Just appreciate the feeling. Money, capitalism, yay. Isn’t that nice?”

Raph grinned. “Yeah, sure.”

As you climbed back up on your porch, you picked up the nearly empty bucket you’d left. The last trick or treaters of the night were beginning to filter out, so you thought it was a good time to take the rest for yourself.

“Come on, you enjoyed yourself, admit it.”

“Okay, fine, I enjoyed myself. You happy?”

“Very.” You grabbed your keys and inserted them in the door. “Tell the guys I said hi, okay?”

Raph nodded. He took a step in the direction of the street, but quickly backtracked and gave you a kiss. It wasn’t long, more a peck than anything, but you always enjoyed any kind of kiss from him.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Don’t let the bed-ghouls bite!” And Raph vanished into the night.

You glanced one last time at the sky. You internally said ‘fuck it’, and pulled out your phone to take a picture. It came out blurry, just like you were expecting, but it was a nice way to commemorate your first Halloween with Raph.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2012 raph x reader #raph x reader

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xtruss · 9 months

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A Male Saiga Antelope in Russia's Black Land National Park. These highly social antelope live in herds. Photograph By Valeriy Malee/Nature Picture Library

This Floppy-Nosed Antelope Was Nearly Gone. 20 Years Later, It’s Thriving.

Less than a decade ago, more than half of the world’s saiga antelope were lost to a mysterious disease. Its comeback is a rare and phenomenal conservation success.

— By Jason Bittel | December 14, 2023

Just two decades ago, it seemed as if we might need to write a eulogy for the saiga antelope.

Cut down by widespread poaching and waves of disease, by 2003, just 6 percent of the floppy-nosed ungulates remained in Kazakhstan, Mongolia, Russia, and Uzbekistan.

But today, scientists are rejoicing at the saiga’s unlikely rebound.

There are now 1.9 million saiga antelope across Eurasia, according to the most recent estimates released this week. So many saiga, in fact, that the International Union for Conservation of Nature is upgrading the Red List status for the species from critically endangered to near threatened.

“There's a lot of conservation doom and gloom, and there isn't very much attention paid to conservation successes,” says E.J. Milner-Gulland, a conservation scientist at the University of Oxford and co-founder of the U.K-based Saiga Conservation Alliance. “It’s quite a vindication of 20 years of hard work by lots of people.”

To get a sense of just how far this species has come, in 2015, more than half of the worldwide population of saiga antelope were lost to a mysterious blood disease.

“This is phenomenal news,” says Joel Berger, an ecologist at Colorado State University and a senior scientist at the Wildlife Conservation Society, in an email.

“At a time when so many species and populations are in deep swan dives, to witness the recovery of saiga—a species deserving of more recognition in its own right—is something we all need to celebrate,” he says.

Male Saiga Antelope Battle in Black Lands National Park. Males and their horns are a specific target of poachers. Photograph By Valeriy Malee/Nature Picture Library

The Saiga’s Downward Spiral

Those who have been paying attention to the saiga’s saga know that it’s been a wild ride.

“Twenty years ago, it had the fastest increase in threat status of any mammal,” says Milner-Gulland. “The population had plummeted by more than 90 percent over a really short time of a few years, so it went straight in at critically endangered.”

As for what happened, Milner-Gulland explains that the saiga’s downfall can be attributed to several factors. For starters, saiga horn has great value in China, Singapore, Vietnam, and Malaysia as a component in traditional medicine. And this demand, coupled with the breakup of the Soviet Union, led to a dramatic rise in hunting.

It’s a Symbol of the Wild Steppe, of Independence and Freedom.

— E.J. Milner-Gulland, Conservation Scientist at the University of Oxford

“The economies of these countries basically collapsed,” she says. “And they were living in very harsh conditions on the steppe. So they turned to poaching.”

Fencing along the border between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan also put a barrier in the middle of the saiga’s migratory route, while infrastructure development cut into saiga habitat. Finally, an unknown trigger turned a naturally occurring microbe in the saiga’s characteristic nose into a virulent pathogen, leading to the mass die-offs.

It’s for all these reasons that the IUCN has chosen not to de-list the saiga completely.

“The near threatened category is right for the saiga, because we know that at any time, we could just get large numbers of them dropping dead again,” says Milner-Gulland. “They are very vulnerable.”

A Path to Recovery

Just as the threats to the saiga were multi-faceted, so too have been the efforts to protect the species, which are important seed dispersers and grazers that contribute to plant biodiversity.

For instance, an international collaboration between countries where saigas roam, countries that traditionally consume saiga products, and other stakeholder nations, including the United States, led to a memorandum of understanding in 2006 to conserve the species, restore its habitat, and restrict harvest to a sustainable level.

For its part, Kazakhstan’s government focused on stronger anti-poaching measures, including law enforcement to prevent saiga hunting. The Saiga Conservation Alliance supplied financing for gasoline, uniforms, motorbikes, and shelters for those rangers, who live in the harsh, windswept grasslands. Customs agents also improved detection of saiga products leaving the country as part of the illicit wildlife trade. Lastly, the country designated multiple protected areas totaling more than 12 million acres of saiga antelope habitat.

Now that economic conditions have leveled out and local people don’t have to choose between their own survival and saving saiga, there has also been a dramatic shift in support for the species.

“The thing about saiga is the local people really love it,” says Milner-Gulland. “It’s a symbol of the wild steppe, of independence and freedom.”

Saiga (Drinking on Southern Russia's Astrakhan Steppe) can migrate up to 600 miles over summer and winter. Photograph By Valeriy Malee/Nature Picture Library

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toxicrivalries · 5 months

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pep guardiola & fc barcelona

barcelona players celebrating with pep / barcelona announce appointment of pep guardiola as head coach ahead of the 2008-2009 season / barcelona players celebrating with pep / crowd at camp nou / zonal marking by michael cox / pep guardiola annouces he's stepping down as barcelona manager / pep guardiola as a young player for barcelona / pep guardiola discusses why he's stepping down as barcelona manager / pep guardiola at a bayern munich training session / bayern munich appoints new head coach / pep guardiola as a barcelona player lifting the european cup / pep guardiola as barcelona's captain / pep guardiola stepping down from barcelona / guardiola celebrating winning the bundesliga / pep guardiola: the early years / pep reacting to messi nutmegging james milner from the crowd at the camp nou in 2014-2015 / barcelona to play bayern munich in the 2014-2015 champions league semifinals / final score at the camp nou / barcelona vs bayern munich / messi chips manuel neuer to knock pep guardiola's bayern out of the champions league / messi celebrating his second goal against pep's bayern

#web weaving #football #barcelona #pep guardiola #dan.txt #mine

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ts1m1kas · 7 months

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Original Ask: this time its based in liverpool, our scottish gremlin being set up to go on dates by james milner ( cause of course its milly ) and he hates all of them until one night, his date doesn't show up ( or so he thinks ) so he goes to a bar to drink when he spots the reader who unknowingly is his date, it turns out the reader had been caught up with something that she forgot the date 🫢 (@findingnemosworld)

Word Count: 596 words

(author's note: nemo never fails to send the best requests ever !! i know robbo isn't everyone's cup of tea, but i love writing for him 🫶)

It was well-known that Andy and James were good friends. Throughout their years at Liverpool, they had gotten very close, which resulted in them telling each other everything. So, when Andrew came to James and told him he was struggling in the dating scene, he was eager to help the Scotsman find the love of his life.

However, date after date had gone by, and none of the women had made Andy feel special. He had started to lose hope in ever finding someone when he got a text from James;

‘Get ready, found you another bachelorette ;)’

Andy pulled on a nicer outfit, checked his hair, and sprayed some cologne onto his neck. Once he was happy with his appearance, he checked his phone again to find the details of his date. Setting off to the restaurant, the nerves began to hit.

Andrew had sat at the table alone for 25 minutes before he decided he’d been stood up. Standing up and tucking the chair back under the table, he headed towards the door.

“Hi there should be a table under Robertson? I know I’m quite late, I hope he’s still here.”

At the mention of his last name, he looked up and walked in the direction of the young woman.

“She’s with me.” Andy said, nodding at the waiter.

“Thank goodness, I didn’t want you to think I had stood you up.”

“No worries, shall we go sit down?”

She nodded at the suggestion and followed him back to the table that Andrew had previously been sitting at.

“Again, I’m so sorry I’m late, the traffic in my area was so bad.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was out of your hands. You’re here now. That's all that matters.”

“I love your accent. Are you Scottish?”

“Yeah, born and raised. Only moved down here for work, what about you?”

“I’ve lived in Liverpool my whole life. I currently work in a café. My dream is to work in football media or journalism, though.”

“I could probably put in a good word for you.”

All of a sudden, it dawned on her. “Oh my goodness. You’re Andy Robertson. As in the Liverpool footballer”

Andrew laughed. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out. Speaking of names, you haven’t told me yours.”

“I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N to be more specific. Sorry, I just can’t believe I’m on a date with Andy Robertson.”

He smiled, “I’m really nothing special, just a regular man.”

“But you are, though. You’re so talented. And funny. And very handsome.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, lass.”

Y/N face flushed pink at his words, and the conversation continued. The pair flirted back and forth while getting to know one another. Drinks kept flowing, and before they both knew it, the sky outside was dark, and it was time to call it a night.

The pair exchanged numbers with the promise of meeting up again soon. Feeling bold, Y/N leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to Andrew’s lips. He kissed back, the contact soft and barely there.

When they parted, they split ways, both walking home with a smile. When Andy got home, he pulled up James’ number and shot him a quick text:

‘You picked a good one mate, think she’s the one.’

He turned his phone off and got into bed with a smile, his heart filled with optimism for the first time in months. Y/N, in her own home, unknowingly mirrored these movements, the same feeling of optimism enveloping her as she drifted off to sleep.

#andy robertson x reader #andy robertson #andrew robertson x reader #andrew robertson #football #fanfiction #fanfic #hot footballers #request #liverpool football club #lfc #🧡#by ts1m1kas #andy robertson imagine #andy robertson blurb #andrew robertson imagine #andrew robertson blurb

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stevebattle · 4 days

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Kermit (1978), by Ron Milner and Larry Nicolson, Cyan Engineering, Atari's secret think tank in Grass Valley, CA.

"The robot was a pet project for Nolan Bushnell, then still the head of Atari and a very creative guy. Its purpose in life was as Nolan put it to "bring me a beer!" Navigation for robots was a sketchy thing at that time with lots of pioneering work at MIT but no consumer cost ideas. Nolan brought us the incredibly original idea to navigate a robot (which mostly meant knowing where it was) by means of scanning bar codes attached here and there to the baseboards in the rooms the robot was to service. Why it wasn't patented I don't know.

I had lots of fun building the R2D2 style robot about 20" tall. I liked to put mechanical and electronic things together and we had a great shop at Cyan. Its brain was one of the 6502 based single board computers-I think it was a KIM but not sure. Locomotion was two DC gear motor driven wheels and an instrumented caster-about the same rig as a modern Roomba. A rotatable turret covered with a plexiglass dome carried microphones, an IR sensor to detect people, and ultrasonic ranging sensors I built on a separate PC board. A speaker so Kermit could beep gleefully, of course.

A ring of contact-detecting burglar alarm sensing tape (green in the pictures) around Kermit's middle told the software he had hit something and should back off. The ultrasonics provided range to obstacles and to some extent direction as the turret was rotated, so we could go around things.

My pride and joy was the barcode remote scanner which was mounted on the bottom of the robot so its rotating head would be level with the barcodes on the baseboards. It had a vertical telescope tube with a beam splitter between the IR Led and the photodiode sensor and a lens to focus 2-20' away. It aimed down at a front surface mirror at 45 degree to scan horizontally. The mirror was mounted on a motor driven turret so it spun around continuously with a sensor once around to resolve the continuous angular position of the beam horizontally of course with respect to Kermit's rotational position. Unfortunately, this part of the robot did not survive the closing of our group. The barcodes I made for the prototype to detect were about 4" tall made of 3/4" reflective 3m tape on black poster board.

My programming partner on the project was Larry Nicholson, a really bright guy. He made the barcode reading work to detect not only the barcodes, but where they were angularly with respect to the robot and also their subtended angle or apparent size (all from timing of the rotation of the scanner) which was a measure of distance combined with angle from the barcode. We worked out some pretty clever math to resolve that information from two or three of the barcodes into a position and orientation of Kermit in the room. We had rented an empty room upstairs on the third floor of the Litton building to try all this out and work out the navigation. Larry and I got the basic navigation and obstacle avoidance working so Kermit could go from one place to a designated other place in the room and avoid wastebaskets placed randomly. We demonstrated it to Nolan and he was impressed.

Shortly thereafter Warner Communication who had bought Atari from Nolan kicked him out and the Kermit project was cancelled."

– Kermit The Robot Notes by Ron Milner.

#cybernetics #robot #1978

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vintagetvstars · 2 months

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Men sent to the Graveyard Slot

We salute our fallen men and will see them during the late night graveyard slot vintage tv marathon.

Updated daily as polls go down.

David McCallum

Robert Wagner

Simon Williams

David Hasselhoff

Ron Glass

James Marsters

Dana Ashbrook

Michael J. Fox

Nicholas Lea

Milo Ventimiglia

Robert Vaughn

Sam Neill

Timothy Dalton

Neil Patrick Harris

Kabir Bedi

Jon Pertwee

Desi Arnaz

Mike Farrell

Luke Halpin

Gene Anthony Ray

Joseph Marcell

Jeffrey Combs

Connor Trinneer

Blair Underwood

Michael Landon

Clint Eastwood

Jimmy Smits

David Soul

Michael Praed

Spencer Rochfort

Michael Horse

David Wenham

Scott Cohen

Tom Welling

George Maharis

Larry Hagman

Walter Koenig

Peter Davison

James Earl Jones

Jonathan Frakes

John Shea

Sylvester McCoy

Keith Hamilton Cobb

Tony Shalhoub

Ted Cassidy

Cesar Romero

Dean Butler

Henry Winkler

Ron Perlman

Mitch Pileggi

Will Smith

Matthew Perry

Seth Green

Richard Ayoade

Russell Johnson

Claude Rains

Michael Nesmith

Demond Wilson

John de Lancie

Andrew Robinson

Colm Meaney

John Hurt

Skeet Ulrich

Eric Close

Ted Bessell

William Hartnell

William Hopper

Peter Tork

Tom Smothers

Martin Kove

Jeff Conaway

Dave Foley

David Hyde Pierce

Jason Bateman

Boris Karloff

Eddie Albert

Bobby Sherman

Fred Grandy

Kevin Smith

Brad Dourif

Brandon Quinn

Tim Daly

Judd Hirsch

Matt Bomer

Kent McCord

Bobby Troup

David Cassidy

Richard Hatch

John Forsythe

Bruce Willis

Paul McGann

Thorsten Kaye

Darren E. Burrows

Adam Brody

Adam West

Randy Boone

Clint Walker

Paul Michael Glaser

Rock Hudson

Jameson Parker

Armin Shimerman

Joe Lando

Ben Browder

Kevin McDonald

Patrick McGoohan

Chad Everett

Mark Lenard

Darren McGavin

Terry Jones

Michael Tylo

Valentine Pelka

Ioan Gruffudd

Robert Carlyle

Jason Priestley

Martin Milner

Lee Majors

Derek Jacobi

Stephen Nichols

Hal Linden

Ted Raimi

Andreas Katsulas

Miguel Ferrer

David James Elliot

Mark-Paul Gosselaar

Don Adams

Bob Crane

Davy Jones

Tom Baker

John Schneider

John Goodman

Marc Alaimo

Kevin Sorbo

Mark McKinney

David Schwimmer

James Arness

Robert Conrad

Michael Hurst

Michael T. Weiss

Jeremy Sisto

Matt LeBlanc

Reece Shearsmith

William Shockley

Robert Beltran

Scott Patterson

Dick Gautier

Alejandro Rey

Gerald McRaney

John Cleese

Brian Blessed

Noah Wyle

Paul Gross

Robert Duncan McNeill

Nate Richert

Michael Vartan

David Selby

Colin Baker

Randolph Mantooth

Tony Danza

Mr. T

Dirk Benedict

Michael Ontkean

Rowan Atkinson

Bruce Boxleitner

Patrick Duffy

William Shatner

Telly Savalas

Ted Lange

Stephen Fry

Michael Palin

René Auberjonois

Michael O’Hare

Joshua Jackson

Scott Thompson

Chad Michael Murray

Dwayne Hickman

David Suchet

Bruce McCulloch

Casey Biggs

Johnny Depp

Richard Biggs

Gary Cole

Brian Krause

Paul Johansson

Donnie Wahlberg

Raymond Burr

Sebastian Cabot

Anthony Andrews

Jeremy Irons

Peter Wingfield

Simon MacCorkindale

Grant Show

Anthony Starke

#breaking news #vintage tv stars poll

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ricard-blythe-ffxiv · 4 months

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DWC - May 2024 - Day 4 Drama

@daily-writing-challenge

“Do you think she killed him?”

Delwyn Baines had been working for Ricard long enough to know several things.

One - Victor, Ricard’s manservant, was terribly frightened of Catherine Blythe. To the point where the younger man was often tongue tied and panicky in the older woman’s presence. Fortunately for him, he rarely ‘faced’ the elder Blythe alone - Delwyn (or Ricard) was often there to serve as ‘back-up’.

Two - If Catherine showed up to the Milner estate unannounced, it was because Ricard had done something to provoke her. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes unintentionally - but one way or the other, he’d poked a button and that button demanded a response.

Three - Things were never dull.

The Highlander chuckled, not even bothering to fold down the paper he was reading as he listened to the raised - but muffled - voice of the older woman on the other side of Ricard’s office door, quickly followed by an amused sounding response from Ricard.

“No, Victor - I don’t think she killed him. That would prevent her from getting those grandchildren she’s always after him for.”

“Well…what do you think she’s yelling at him for then?”

Delwyn scoffed. “Can fathom a guess or two. I mean, you did see the shit-eating grin he came back with after last weekend’s breakfast, right?”

Victor started to answer before straightening up as the door to Ricard’s office opened and Catherine Blythe walked out, turning to glare back inside the office for a long moment. “Two weeks, at most, Ricard. You weren’t courting the woman the last time we sat down with her or else it would have been a very different conversation. I expect that you will make these arrangements or I will do it for you.”

Delwyn lifted the paper a bit higher, glancing around the edge as Ricard stepped out and leaned against the doorframe.

“Mother - I think you need to go home and have a drink. Maybe relax. Call father home. Have an orgasm or two. Just take a breath. You’ll get to talk to her, eventually. There isn’t a rush.”

Delwyn managed to fight back his scoff as Catherine’s gaze narrowed at her son.

“There is, because I know you.”

“And I know you - just take a deep breath or a few hundred deep breaths. I’ll set something up in a week or two.”

“You have two weeks, son. Two weeks.”

Ricard managed to keep from rolling his eyes until his mother turned and started to walk down the hall. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose with a tired sigh, holding a hand up in Delwyn’s direction before the other man started to speak.

“Don’t say a fucking word.”

“I mean…don’t really have to boss - family drama speaks for itself…” It was at Delwyn that he rolled his eyes this time before turning to head back into his office, leaving the other man just to chuckle. Things were rarely boring…but that was all part of the fun.

#the perceptive smartass #dwc2024 #dwcmay2024

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aemondslefteyeball · 1 year

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In the Flat Field (1)

[Future!Aemond x Fem!Reader]

[Warnings: Spooky shit]

[Summary: The year is 2864, and mankind has spread to the stars. You and your partner are a part of the Exoarchaeologist's Guild, exploring the known universe on the USS Vhagar. When the two of you enter a new frontier you make a discovery that will either make or destroy both of your careers at the Guild. If you can make your way back to it, that is.]

Word Count: 4.3K

Chapter One

A gut pull drag on me

Into the chasm gaping, we.

Vhagar’s engines thrummed softly in the background while you set the plates down on the little table in the dining room. After they were arranged and the replicator was shut off, you expanded the hologram that sat confined in your watch. Pulling up the menu, you clicked on the ship’s comms and sent your best friend a ping that the food was ready. A few minutes later Aemond arrived in the kitchen, sweat coating his brow from where he had been overhauling the backup wiring in the lateral thrusters. “Hey, love.” A wide grin pulled across his face, his eyes widening at the Arrysian stir-fry before him. “This is why we’re partners.” His face softened for a second, and your heartbeat quickened in your chest. He went to the wash station, dipping his hands into the electrostatic fog before settling down at the table.

“The reports on the Milner vase came back, it’s from approximately 2146, sometime in the spring but the carbon atoms aren’t stable enough to tell precisely when it was made.” Aemond nodded as you briefed him. The two of you had been hoping it was made in the 2060s when the Carythian empire had been in its golden era. Nonetheless, the guild would want it when you two returned to Valyretos so into the storage lockers it would go. “I was thinking maybe we could push further into Juliet Quadrant, I looked through the Guild database and couldn’t find many records of archaeologists coming here.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Hotel Quadrant has been overrun since they found that temple.” Aemond had always leaned towards misanthropy, which was pretty funny considering he devoted his life to rummaging through dead peoples’ shit. As the two of you talked about your plans and input the vectors into Vhagar’s nav system, Aemond grabbed your plates and placed them back into the replicator, where it dematerialized them.

You two fell into a comfortable silence as you thinned out the scrubbers. The plants had been growing a bit too thick, and it posed a risk of clogging up the dioxide filters. The pair of you dictated the report on the Milner vase together, bickering like an old married couple as to whether it portrayed Nienna or Valeich. Despite your back-and-forths, you two had always been two peas in a pod. You remembered when you first met Aemond back at the Academy. Long, silver hair draped over a handsome face. On the left side of it, a cybernetic implant sat. Valyrian steel laced into his cheek, a crystalline transceiver sitting where an eye normally would. His demeanor intimidated you back then, and you had the same classes for months before Aemond finally approached you and asked if you would study for the preliminaries with him. The more you got to know him the more shocked you became, as you had assumed his family pulled strings to get him into the academy. You had friends at Telmar IV and none of them had any good stories about his older brother, and even less about his father. Studying his face for a moment, you reflected on how the years had changed it. The minuscule amount of baby fat that had clung to his face as a fifteen-year-old had faded, and you couldn’t deny he was quite the handsome man. But Aemond was… well, Aemond. You couldn’t think of any time he seemed more interested in any one person over his work. That being said, it seemed it was the reason you two fit so well together. Both of you refused to ever stop pushing, and it led to you being valedictorian, and Aemond the salutatorian. It was a miracle you beat him out, but the final exam tripped him up just enough that you edged in a victory. To your surprise, he didn’t seem jealous at all. When your final GPAs were announced he just pulled you into a hug and tentatively asked if you two could be partners after graduation. Eight years later, the two of you were sailing off into Juliet Quadrant on the USS Vhagar. It was Aemond’s pride and joy, a smile dancing across your face at the memory of the hours spent in his hangar. He had never grown out of tinkering with her, you supposed.

“Something on your mind?” Aemond’s right eyebrow was quirked, amusement glimmering in his violet eyes.

“Remember when you were building her?”

An easy grin pulled across Aemond’s face as he pulled another plant from the wall. You swore you saw a blush on his cheeks for a second before he turned towards the compost bin. “I remember warbling on about her engine schematics for hours.” He turned back to you, something unidentifiable in the back of his eye. “I don’t think anybody had ever really sat and listened to me like that before.” There was a comfort to the admission, an easiness that only came with eleven years of companionship. When the two of you finished, the plant matter was deconstructed by the bin before being spread over the mycelium racks in a fine mist.

Nebulas of magenta and sea-foam green spread out before your eyes, the viewscreen set to record the star system as you two settled into the cockpit. Aemond sunk into his crash couch with a groan, pausing for a moment before he followed your line of sight. “Gods that’s beautiful,” he muttered.

“You’re beautiful.” When Aemond turned to look at you, he was met with your raised middle finger.

He chuckled before shaking his head, looking down at the controls. “It remains a great mystery as to why you’re single.”

“A great tragedy.” You teased, clasping your hands for dramatic effect.

“Mmm,” Aemond replied, something shifting in his gaze as he leaned closer toward you. You smiled at him coyly, one leg crossed over the other.

Suddenly the proximity klaxon sounded, the view screen flashing red. Vhagar’s point defense cannons were locked onto an asteroid 437 kilometers in diameter. You looked to Aemond, engaging the railguns and cutting minor paths through it before Aemond finally launched a PDC round into the asteroid that sent it shattering out into the frontier. The two of you breathed a sigh of relief. No pieces of the asteroid were large enough to cause actual damage to Vhagar. As soon as the two of you started to relax, the ship was hit by a small rumble. You looked to Aemond in confusion, and he looked to you in worry. Whatever jostled Vhagar had to be something particularly nasty, and it would be better to get the hell out of dodge time now. Sensors were reading that a nearby star had started a coronal mass ejection registering off the Gerardys Scale. As you engaged the joysticks, the ship was hit by a wave that sent it tumbling through the vacuum. Aemond’s arm snapped across your chest as if he was going to hold you in, and you shot him a strange look. You were both literally strapped into your couches. Despite the futility of the gesture, your heart rate increased. Another wave wracked the ship, and it froze suddenly. The system had entirely changed. Literally. You and Aemond looked at each other in confusion for a moment, pulling up your vitals. Both of you were sober and all was were clear, which only left the impossible. You two were somewhere else, in a dimensional freefall before your surroundings shifted again.

The ship solidified in the goldilocks atmosphere of a thus unidentified planet. You braced yourself for another few minutes, expecting to find yourself in yet another strange new system. When no shift happened, you and Aemond stared at each other. “What the fuck?” You whispered as he let out an ‘Mmm’ of agreement. “Should we land?”

Aemond’s brow furrowed for a minute, and you saw the light on the side of his implant flicker. Another thing you loved about Aemond, he ran almost every major decision through that implant of his. “Yes.” He stated simply, as you nodded. While Aemond had always been able to destroy you in engineering, you were the pilot. Autopilot was engaged until the stratosphere was breached, from there you set the controls to manual and landed Vhagar in a vegetated field. The two of you opened the comms before sending out an emergency message to the guild. When the ping sounded your heart dropped into your stomach. For the first time ever, Vhagar was unable to transmit. Your wary gaze met Aemonds again, and you shot him a smile you hoped was comforting. He had designed Vhagar so she synchronized with his implant, and the expression on his face told you he was just as lost. Environmental sensors showed nothing of note, while cobalt-blue vines spread out as far as the eye could see. No signs of sentient life read from the field, but the two of you had another hope in mind. Two klicks off into the distance stood the only artificially constructed building you had seen in this hemisphere. You and Aemond took another glance at each other. Periwinkle stucco rippled into basalt before it shifted to plastic siding. Wherever the two of you had landed, it was a far cry from anything you ever had seen before. Really read, heard, or thought about even. In short summary, you guys were up shit creek with no paddle.

“Well,” Aemond said flatly, his voice revealing the slightest waver. “We’ve definitely found something new.” You nodded as your boots crunched into the vines beneath your feet.

You let the silence hang for a second longer before it dawned on you. “The asteroid.” When your gaze turned to Aemond, his brow was knit together with the steel implant. You stopped for a moment, Aemond following in tandem. Pulling up the hologram screen from your watch, you expanded it into view mode. Aemond’s hand came to rest on your waist as he stepped closer towards you, eyes fixed on the screen. Clicking on the recording of the flight data, you pull the asteroid’s hologram out, setting it into a field of its own before programming Vhagar to run a simulation of its flight path.

“What in the seven hells?” Aemond whispered, your mouth going dry as the two of you watched the path of the asteroid. It was moving as if on a track, with a constant velocity. The vector was straight, clear-cut, and too mathematically neat to be natural. Aemond reached into the hologram as well, overlaying the simulation onto the schematic of the system. When he pressed play, you brought your thumbnail to your mouth, resting it on your teeth for a moment. That was it, this was something nobody in the guild had ever discovered before. Your heart sank at the realization that the two of you had unknowingly destroyed a priceless artifact.

“It’s a…” Aemond looked at you for a second, his lilac eye narrowing at you as he tried to follow your train of thought. “Aem, I think it’s a cosmic-scale Rube Goldberg machine.”

“Who could have built it?” He murmured, talking more to himself than you. “And why?” His right fist clenched as the light flashed in Valyrian steel. “Implant’s got nothing.” He finally concluded. Nothing of this scale had ever been done before, though to be fair this was just a theory as of right now. Maybe there was some psychoactive chemical in the atmosphere that Vhagar’s sensors didn’t pick up. It would certainly make more sense than either a machine spanning an entire solar system or an asteroid that seemed to move in the weirdest orbit you had ever seen.

“After we destroyed it, the ion storm started.” You reflected out loud, your finger tracing over the light blue flashes of the hologram as the world shifted around the two of you. Cerulean skies melted into emerald and rose, but the two of you quickly found the bigger mystery. “After that is when things started getting… weird.” You said simply, wishing there was a word that more accurately described stumbling across a space oddity.

“Before we were thrown into the singularity…” Aemond picked up. You nodded, fidgeting with your hands. Aemond’s thumb rubbed little circles into your waist before he gently massaged the spot that always bothered you. Worry dissipated, as your gaze shifted to your best friend. If nothing else, you were relieved he was here. You leaned into him, inhaling the scent of leather and pine. Aemond pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s going to be alright, love.” He murmured. As he said that, your boots sank into bubblegum-colored sand. You pulled away and shot each other a look of mutual understanding. The environment was changing rapidly, but a building still stood. A queer patina shimmered over the roof tiles as they morphed into thatch, less than half a kilometer away now. You pulled your boot out of the sand, going to place it before you until a patch of ice rippled beneath your foot and you lost your balance. Aemond, thankfully, had quicker reflexes than most humans due to his implant. His arm snaked out to grab you before steadying you on your feet.

“Thanks.” You prayed that you weren’t blushing. Aemond just wasn’t interested in you like that. Aemond wasn’t really interested in anybody like that.

After a quarter-kilometer trek that thrust you into six different biomes, the two of you finally came to the ever-changing sight of the house before you. Grand French doors were adorned with stained glass that seemed to produce its own light. The images danced across the panes, but when Aemond scanned it he found no power source. Glass figurines revelled, read, and leaped as the glass changed colors. “I know this is probably a stupid question,” Aemond furrowed his brow, a gentle look in his eye as he glanced toward you. “But you’re recording all of this, right?”

Aemond smiled at you, ruffling your hair suddenly as you batted his hands away. “You don’t ask stupid questions, that’s why we’ve been together for so long.” Been together. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose. If he knew and was just rubbing salt into the wound. But his eye held no indication of mockery, and an easy look rested across his chiseled features. Like when you two first met. The years had hardened his face, but the remnants of the dorky teenager reemerged. Your dork. After a moment, he reached to open the door, the knob shifting to a beautiful ivory as he opened it. While the house seemed to be more fixed than the outside was, a foyer flashed in and out of existence, staircases moving throughout the belly of the beast. Hair raised on your neck, animal instincts screaming at the uncanny nature of the morphing environment. The two of you stepped through doorways into rooms that flashed in and out of existence, often finding yourself in new parts of the house. Decor flashed in and out of different cultures, times, and places. One minute Veltruvian lamps cast their plum glow across the walls. Others, class candles burned into your retinas. Walls of ebony stretched out across the basement the two of you had stepped into, and you traced your fingers along it, taking in the sight. Aemond beelined towards a desk, his gaze focused. Picking up the piece of metal, he turned it over in his hands before his gaze panned over to you. Holding it up, he laughed. “A sextant!” Blue light flickered out of the implant as he ran his fingers over the bronze. “18th century Earth.” A happy grin overtook his features as he unzipped his backpack, placing it in. Technically it was supposed to go to the guild, but you could pretend you didn’t see it in his room. Ebony walls shifted into cherry as you two stepped into a bedroom. A large, soft bed took up most of the space, but your gaze flickered to the closet.

“Jackpot.” You said, throwing the doors open before tutting disappointedly. All men’s clothes, and way too large for you from the looks of it. You flipped through the hangers, finding a long black trench coat. Pulling it off the rack, you held it up to Aemond’s shoulders, giving him a look. Aemond humored you, shrugging off his coat and tossing it onto the bed before pulling the trench coat over himself. The sleeves were a touch too short, but Aemond cut quite the strapping figure in it. You pulled your fingers up to your mouth and let out a wolf whistle. Raising your finger to spin it, Aemond shook his head as he chuckled. “C’mon CoverGirl.” You cheered. He pulled the coat off before tossing it over his shoulder and strutting across the room. When he reached you, he paused for a second, his face twisting as if he was thinking. When it continued on for another second, a nervous smile flashed across your face. “I’m starting to smell smoke.” You teased, taking the coat and putting it back on the hanger. You paused for a second after placing it back on the rack, shoving the coats off to one side and dropping to your knees. Before you, a small door stayed in place, the trim melting between shades of eggshell. You turned back to Aemond, and the blue light flickered before he nodded. Taking a deep breath, you opened the latch to Pandora’s door. The tiny door opened up to a full-length hallway and you started to poke your head in before Aemond lunged to grab you.

His leather jacket was back on him, expression serious as he turned the light in his implant on. Brick and stone flashed across the walls, an oil spill of different materials swirling before your eyes. Stepping into it, he gestured for you to follow before putting an arm out in front of you protectively. While his arm unfortunately was not singularity-proof, the sweetness of the gesture was appreciated. Exposed pipes of different metals lined the ceiling, the ripples easing the further along you traveled. The two of you came to a halt before the large iron door and you swallowed harshly. There was no sign of a spindle on the door, but it was cracked. A glimpse of light peeked out. You wracked your brain trying to remember any time that you had seen a safe that didn’t close from the outside. “Stay behind me,” Aemond muttered, with you nodding and moving to the opposite side of the frame. Aemond pressed the door open, ancient hinges creaking in protest. You peeked in to see Aemond staring at the room in shock. Light shone in through a bowed window, dust floating through the sunbeams as it bounced off one of the mirrors and right into your eyes. Flinching and holding a hand up, you came to Aemond’s side. “There can’t be a window here.” He muttered. “There’s solid brick around the entire room.” His head shook in disbelief, staring out into the yellow sky. “We’re in the basement.”

“Aemond.” He was pulled out of his train of thought before you gestured to the rest of the room. Dust stirred in the air, tickling at the back of your nostrils. Sunlight shone onto a neatly made, though clearly neglected bed. The walls were a solid beige color, with an armoire and a little kitchenette stacked into the small space.

“Did you hear me? There cannot be a window here.”

“I heard you.” You snapped. On the table, an old journal disappeared, and a radio appeared in its place. Aside from that, the room was still. The walls remained as they were, and whatever plagued the rest of the house seemed mitigated here. The eye of the singularity. Realization dawned on Aemond as he shot you a look. The emotion was unreadable for a second before you finally recognized it. Fear. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen Aemond truly scared. You wondered if you ever had. Aemond paced around the room, stalking about with an anxious expression on his face. “I’m going to get a reading on that door.” Pulling at the straps of your backpack, you stepped out of the iron door, and into the largest room you had ever seen.

Columns of shelves reached as high as you could see, the musk of the ancient room pervasive. Stepping down a row, you pressed yourself against a shelf and took a deep breath in. Okay. You and Aemond had been separated. It would be alright, you told yourself. Thus far you returned back to the same general area within the singularity itself. Your position in spacetime seemed fixed, but it shifted around you like a kaleidoscope. After you regained your head, you continued to creep down the rows. Strange bottles lined the walls, filled with different colored mists. You couldn’t articulate what it was, but every instinct screamed at you.

In the presence of something that was ancient when man was still fish, something stirred off in the distance. That’s when it sounded again. Heavy footfalls grew closer while you skirted around the wooden shelves, taking advantage of every blind spot around the bottles. A myriad of swirling colors spun within the glass, hypnotizing. You edged along the row slowly, checking your surroundings before making a dash to the next one. Upon getting there, you pinched your nose and exhaled through your mouth silently. When your heart rate slowed and your mind cleared, you snapped back to the task at hand. Escape. That’s when you caught sight of it through the reflection on the bottle. Ducking back behind the panel of wood, you looked at the bottles on the opposite shelf through the corner of your eye. Whatever it was, it was large. Stretched abnormally tall, the creature was broad, visual static flickering through the body. Ink seemed to stretch over the skin in a shifting calico pattern, blinking in and out as the creature let out a low wheeze. Two massive, gray pits swirling in what you could only assume were its eyes. A clicking rang out through the silent rows, and you took extra care to maintain your cover. Thuds fell onto stone floors at an uneasy tempo. Inhuman. An uncharacteristically long pause between one footfall and the next. Purples and greens spilled into the shifting skin pattern, your eyes intermittently flicking to the bottles. Something between a gurgle and a click emerged as the creature stalked about, dragging its spindly fingers along the dusty shelves. Suddenly it came to a pause, the colors in it shifting as it stopped to examine the shelf. The spot where you had braced yourself after first seeing the thing. Fuck. The speed of the clicking increased, and you felt a strange sort of joy radiating off of the being. It canvassed the room carefully, prowling towards the row you had previously been at. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pressed yourself against a new row, eyes trained on the bottles. Keeping your hands at your side so as to not leave another breadcrumb for whatever the fuck that thing was, you continued down the row. The creature ambled around as if it had all the time in the world, happy gurgles emerging from its abdomen. A soft peach glow shone around it, your eyes drawn in. It was strangely beautiful in contrast to the grotesque nature of the being. Something pure and celestial, mesmerizing. A dreamy smile passed across your face as you stumbled onto the shelf closest to you. Fuck. If the thud from your contact wasn’t enough, a bottle fell off the shelf and shattered before you had the chance to grab it. A flat voice emerged from the shattered glass as an ancient recitation sounded in a language you couldn’t identify. You slapped your watch, having it record a sample of the language to analyze later. A much, much bigger fish to fry had clambered over to the end of the row. The ecstatic clicking picked up in tempo, and your eyes widened in horror before you scrambled onto your feet to sprint as fast as humanly possible. The eerie gurgling emerged as the creature stalked behind you. You didn’t spare a look behind you, propelling your legs under you as quickly as you could. The dank room seemed to expand ever larger around you, but you weren’t sure if it was moving or whether it had always been this large. Rows tall as skyscrapers flickered in your field of vision for a second before bricks flashed through. Clicking sounded behind you until you were stumbling over smooth concrete on the outside of the bedroom. You fell to your knees and vomited on the cement. Your vision blurred and your head pounded. Each individual cell of your body felt as if it had been individually beaten, and you dry heaved after everything was out of your stomach.

Aemond came to pull your hair back, worry pulled across his face as one arm patted you gently on the back. When you finally finished, you turned your bloodshot gaze to meet his. The fear was still palpable in Aemond’s eyes, but you could see relief dawning in them too as he pulled you in for a hug. “Nice to see you too, Y/N.” He teased. Your arms shook as you wrapped them around his midsection, inhaling the scent of leather and soap.

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Ahh! Second series starting!!!! Let me know what you all think, this one will probably be a bit sparser in updates than STGM but shouldn't be less frequent than every other week. Love y'all have a good weekend drink water

#aemond x reader #hotd x reader #aemond x you #hotd imagine #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x y/n #prince aemond targaryen

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