#Preferably with the air and grace that of a scientist's

[woeismywaffle]

Ya'll ever think that maybe Pharma's mentioned raging hate boner for Decepticons stems from the fact that he may have actually, once, believed in them?

Keep in mind tho that I haven't actually really read the IDW comics since they're really long and I'm really lazy but i've read through enough fanfiction and wiki entires + obsessed over Pharma to get a rough-ish idea of the main plot(is there one?? Feels like it)

Pharma's was born forged, which obivously gives him more advantages over those who were born cold-constructed but he was still a flight-frame and they don't seem to have that much social standing in canon either so if it wasn't for his magic medic hands he would probably not have been treated too well.

But whose to say he had a smooth run though? He was apparently 'famous for being forged' which sorta implies that the people didn't actually believe that a flight-frame like him could be born a medic. Pharma probably had to fight tooth and nail(mostly metaphorically but fanfic writers are free to go crazy on that) to prove himself as a good medic, which probably also led to his whole 'I'm a better doctor than you!!' thing he had going on with Ratchet.

With all these factors combined he was probably a little bit more supportive of the rising voices that claimed the caste system to be stupid than others were, maybe it even gave him a tiny bit of hope for a better tomorrow.

But of course, all of that came tumbling down for him when he realized that the Decepticons weren't really out for true freedom or justice, they just wanted to be ones in charge instead of the Senate.

Probably hurt by this, Pharma decided that the Decepticon cause was bullshit and went to join the Autobots because there was no one else better to join with and being a neutral probably wouldn't soothe his seething hate boner enough.

The whole fiasco with the DJD on Messatine also definitely didn't help with it and instead amplified it.

Mayhaps having to submit to Tarn, a literal physical symbol of the Decepticon's Cause, with his whole hate for Decepticons deteriorated his mental state even more which helpfully factored into the whole Red Rust shenanigan that happened.

[astrocafecoffee]

Groom Persona chart Observation ✨

✨ For entertainment purposes only, enjoy ✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~✨✨~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💖 1st house stellium in GPC means your fs maybe someone who is noticeable and stands out in social situations.

💖 5th house stellium in GPC means your fs could be an artist, musician, writer.

💖 7th house stellium in GPC means your fs could be attractive and socially adept, drawing others to them with their magnetic personality and charisma.

💖 Union (1585) in 1st house meaning meeting your fs while attending social events, gatherings, or parties where you can connect with new people/ professional connection/ shared interest.

💖 Union in 3rd house means you can meet your fs during short journeys or travels close to home.

💖 Union in 8th house means you may meet your fs in context where there is a shared investment and mutual dependency, such as through work, joint projects or shared social circles.

💖 Juno in Capricorn means your fs is known for their ambitious and goal oriented nature. They may be highly driven and motivated to achieve success in thier career, personal goals and relationships./ Could be famous too .

💖 Juno in Sagittarius means they can be a foreigner, philosophical and open minded.

💖 Juno in Taurus means your fs may prioritise creating a stable and secure home environment and may value financial stability within the relationship.

💖 Juno in leo means your fs may be confident, outgoing and enjoy being the center of the attention in social settings., Creative, generous, romantic.

💖 sun in 11th house means your fs is likely to possess a charismatic and Magnetic personality within their social circles ,may value friendship highly and their social network may play a significant role in shaping their identity and opportunities.

💖 Sun in 12th house means your fs may be introspective and contemplative with a rich inner world that is not always readily apparent to others.

💖 sun in 6th house means your fs may prefer predictable schedules and organized workflows that allows them to efficiently manage their time and responsibilities., Possess strong problem solving skills and an analytical mindset.

💖 Juno / groom/ Venus in Sagittarius or 21°/9° or in Aquarius or in 9th /12th house means a Foreign spouse.

💖 Venus in 5th - creativity, music/ art , your fs may have a strong desire for children or a nurturing instinct towards family life.

💖 Venus in 10th house - ambitious, successful, well liked , respected spouse.

💖 Fama in 1st / 7th house - could be famous spouse.

💖 POF in 4th house - fs may have a deep connection to their cultural background or family traditions., May have interest in real estate or property related work.

💖 leo rising means your fs may have a strong desire for recognition and appreciation.may carry themselves with Grace and poise projecting on air of authority and nobility.

💖 Virgo rising -Fs may be modest and humble , health conscious, possess a discerning eye and critical mind.

💖 Scorpio rising - fs may have mysterious allure and a penetrating gaze that leaves a lasting impression on those the encounter, have a rich inner world with complex emotions that run Deep.

💖 industria(389) in 3rd house - your fs career-

musicians, blogger, public relations, possess creative ideas, small business owner.

💖 industria in Libra - your fs career may be something with public relations or marketing, art or design, legal advocacy, or event planning.

💖 industria in Aquarius - you fs may be in technology or IT specialist, social activism , scientist or researcher, humanitarian work or international development.

💖 industria in Pisces - creative arts , healing arts , oceanography or marine conservation, healing arts , charity work.

💖 Industria in Aries - entrepreneur, may thrive in leadership roles , sales , marketing, or sports management.

💖 industria in Taurus - financial sector, buisness ownership, agriculture, horticulture, real estate, painting, sculpting or in music composition.

💖 industria in cancer -

Hospitality, home based business, psychotherapist, food blogger, art therapy.

💖 industria in gemini - social media influencer, journalist, writer, teaching profession, tour guide , hotel manager.

💖 industria in Scorpio -

- psychology and counseling, detectives, private investigator, forensic scientist ,holistic/ energy healer.

💖 Industria in Virgo - doctor, nurse , scientist, data analyst, , office manager, project coordinator, teachers, or instructors.

💖 industria in leo - actors , musicians, artist, brand ambassador, publicist, marketing manager.

💖 industria in Sagittarius - professors , researchers, journalist, media, philanthropy or in social justice advocacy.

💖 industria in Capricorn -

Buisness and management, politician, policy advisors , civil servants, lawyers, engineering, architect, judges.

💖 Northnode in 7th house suggests that your relationship with your fs may have karmic significance., Soulmate placement.

💖 Northnode in 3rd house means your fs may play a significant role in facilitating your growth and development in the areas of communication, intellect and learning.

💖 Karma conjunct ascendent/ descendant - karmic relationship.

💖 your fs may share similar placement like your groom pc. Example - if your sun in Aries in GPC, they could have sun in their 1st house or at 1°,13° or 25°.

💖 Groom conjunct vertex - fated/ predestined encounter with fs. They may have a profound impact on your life and personal growth. they may serve as a catalyst for important experiences, growth opportunities and transfermetive changes is in your life .your relationship with them maybe characterised by depth, intensity and sense of spiritual or emotional connection.

💖 Groom conjunct Venus -

The conjunction of groom and Venus indicates are strong attraction between you and your fs. there may be a magnetic pull or chemistry that draws you together, fueling feelings of romance ,passion and desire. your FS may possess qualities that you find irresistibly attractive both physically and emotionally.

💖 your fs may be drawn to individuals who embody the qualities associated with the seventh House lord for example-

* if the 7th house lord is sun then your fs may be attracted to individuals who support their ambitions, encourage their creativity and contribute positively to their self expression. they may be drawn to partners who are confident, self assured and have a strong sense of individuality.

* if 7th house lord is moon - your fs desires a partner who can meet there emotional needs and provide a sense of comfort and belonging. they are drawn to individuals who are empathetic, nurturing and emotionally supportive. emotional intimacy is a priority for them in the relationship.

* if the 7th house lord is Venus -

Your FS values relationships highly and seeks harmonious and loving partnership. they may prioritise finding a romantic partner who complements their own sense of beauty and aesthetics. partnership is Central to their sense of fulfillment and happiness.

* if the 7th house lord is mercury - your fs places a high value on mental simulation and intellectual compatibility in the relationships. they seek a partner who can engage them in stimulating conversations and share their interest and ideas.

*if the 7th house lord is mars - your fs may seek a partner who can match their level of energy and enthusiasm and they may be drawn to firey and spirited individuals. they thrive on excitement and adventure in their relationships.

* if the 7th house lord is saturn - your fs value tradition and stability in relationships. they may have traditional views on marriage and may seek partners who share their values and commitment to building a secured and enduring Union.

* if the 7th house lord is Jupiter - your fs seeks meaningful and enriching connections in their relationships. they may be drawn to partners who share their values and aspirations who can inspired them to expand their horizons and pursue their goals with confidence.

~~~~~~~~~~~✨✨~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading ~💫

-piko💖

[callsignangel]

the scarf - lo'ak x human! fem reader

word count: 883 requested by: @oyasumimosura (thank you for the request <3) warnings: none! fluff. a/n: if you celebrate, merry christmas!! and if not, i hope you have a relaxing and safe holiday. please enjoy this quick requested fic. no use of y/n in this fic and again, there may be some inaccuracies as i've only seen the movie once so far. reblogs and feedback about my work is deeply appreciated. <3

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

science was never really your thing. sure, your parents were some of the greatest scientists on pandora - helping the na’vi during the first war, studying the botany and the culture to preserve grace’s legacy, researching the anatomy and tradition medicine of the na’vi and pandora. you did think it was cool, but you just preferred more domesticated things. for example, you love reading old human books like pride and prejudice, frankenstein or the island of dr. moreau. baking, doing puzzles, arts & crafts - more specifically, crocheting. 

jake and neytiri were like your godparents, and you were very close to them. neytiri may have been a little cautious of you because you were human, alien - you always tried your best to be warm and loving to her. you loved their children - neteyam, kiri, tuk and even spider were like your brothers and sisters. lo’ak you loved more than a brother. although you had never outright told him that. little did you know, he felt the exact same way about you.

you had always heard of christmas, but had never experienced it. pandora’s calender was very different compared to earths, but you still wanted to have a christmas with your family despite it being in the middle of rainy season in july according to the earth’s calendar. every one had agreed to participate - even neytiri, who was secretly curious about this adored earth tradition. unsure of what to find for every member of the family, you figured you could put your creative skills to good use. the forest’s trees carried this multicoloured fibre, complete with different shades of red, orange and yellow. it was soft, almost like a blanket. it was the perfect yarn.

you crocheted until it felt like your hands were on fire. in the end, you had 6 matching scarves adorned with beads, warm glowing acorns and tassels. the sully’s were thrilled, but lo’ak specifically. he had something to wear, made from the love and thoughtful consideration you carried with everything you made by hand. it would keep him warm in the bitter cold of the air when he awoke in the hallelujah mountains, when he rode his ikran in the mighty winds, or when it would pour rain in the forest. he loved it.

as the second war with the RDA progressed, it was decided that the sully’s would flee to the ocean to protect the omatikaya clan. you had begged your parents to consider going with them - it would be a new biome to study. a new culture to learn. sandy beaches and the warm sun, which wouldn’t be blocked by the tall trees. eventually they agreed, asking jake for his permission to come - which he happily agreed to. it wasn’t long before you had made it to your new home.

just like the sully’s, you were considered outcasts but more because you were human. one of the skypeople. but it was a change of scenery and your parents were having a blast with all of their newfound research. even with the heat, lo’ak never took off his scarf. it was sacred to him because it came from you. the kids of the metkayina clan - ao’nung, rotxo more specifically would always tease him about his scarf. “it’s ugly.” “did the human freak make it for you?” “oh no! you have a piece of garbage wrapped around your neck. let me help you with that.” he didn’t hesitate to defend you or what you had made for him. he had even taken and thrown a couple of hits defending you. 

learning an entirely new culture wasn’t easy, but you were glad you had lo’ak and your siblings by your side. made the process more fun. they taught you the breathing exercises you would need to swim, but you stayed away from the water as much as you could. you stayed on the island, crafting baskets and nets with other members of the metkayina clan, teaching them new patterns to help fortify their hunting and fishing tools using your crocheting skills. 

you had always loved sunsets. but you loved them more with lo’ak. he had always tried to convince you to come swim, but to no avail. as you walked with him on the beach during a quiet evening, he was finally able to convince you to come take a tour with him. “really?? you would do that for me?” “of course, anything for you. but only because you’re cute.” he almost kissed you right then and there.

he woke you up early the next morning to get you into the water before anyone else had the chance to join you. it was unlike anything you had ever seen before - the gigantic manta rays, the glowing coral, the fish, the plant life, the crabs, everything. but while you were fixated on the beautiful things the ocean had to offer, he was staring at you. 

to him, you were the most beautiful thing in that ocean. as you held a glowing, flowy fish in your hands, you turned and gave him the brightest smile. he returned it, hand resting on his scarf as he watched you. he promised himself that he would proclaim his love to you before eywa. he just had to figure out how he was going to tell you first.

[kneamet]

All the roses go to hell

Trigger Warning: yandere, obsession, quoting the bible, fanaticism, angst

Word Count: 2709

Character: patrick mckenna/reader

Summary: As in water face reflects face, so the heart of man reflects the man. Patrick has lived his entire sinful life in holiness, slowly climbing the career ladder in the Vatican with his head, and realizing in his heart, believed in his holiness, believed that he was going to become the second Messiah, walk down Via Dolorosa and carry the cross; mom always said that God had big plans for him. A plan was maturing in Patrick's head, and he almost carried it out until he was prevented — by you and his feelings.

The windows of the room in which he waited tremulously were closed, but the air remained cold and unfamiliar, warning of something insidious. He was waiting for her to appear — counting the minutes, seconds. For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven, Patrick was taught patience. By endurance will gain lives. He glanced at the clock hanging over the door, listened to its knocking, which sounded like nails being driven into the palms of his hands and sighed tremulously. His lips were invisibly muttering prayers, and his hands were clasped in a lock.

He prayed for her, for his beloved, and before closed eyes he saw her image, her holy image. Patrick was ready to take her to heaven, to preach faith in her to the world, because she was perfect; like Mary, she would follow him in any problem, go to the desert, retire, do everything! She will take her cross, follow him. He wanted to worship her, to build a temple.

His angel will have to leave soon; she arrived to the Vatican for a reason, she came with Mr. Langdon, the man who ruined all his plans. Oh, how his sacred heart burned, became sinful when Langdon intervened in the case of the murder of the Pope and began to spread scientific ideas in the temple. He began to desecrate the place of holiness and faith with false words about science and critical thinking. People are not obliged to believe scientists, they are obliged to obey the will of God.

She was a part of CERN, a doctor of sciences. And Patrick hated scientists.

Even as a child, Patrick realized that he was His son, that he was destined for something more. He had to fulfil all righteousness, become a symbol of light, the Messiah! for humanity. He will go through all the trials, his Passion of Jesus has already begun; any minute now she will come, the one whose love he has carried for a long time, like a cross and no one helped him. This room is his Golgotha, not overgrown with rose bushes; here his end will come and he will ascend to Him with her, leaving a mortal body.

She didn't believe in the Lord. Her faith was weak, she said that she would never change her decision; it was her conscious choice based on evidence and facts. But Patrick knew that Langdon had brainwashed her, knew that this professor had participated in the rejection of her faith. Your faith has made you well — that's what Patrick told her when they were alone, they had to find the prints of art in crimes and stories. He also told her that the eyes of the Lord are in every place, observing the evil and the good. But she, his sweet angel, just rolled her eyes and answered something coldly, preferring silence. In the multitude of words there wanteth not sin, so Patrick only sat down next to her with a kind patronizing smile, watched her graceful actions.

Their first meeting took place on the day when Langdon needed him — he asked for access to the archive, and she was at one with him. He called them for a private conversation, closed the shutters and asked a simple question: «Do you believe in God?» Langdon's answer defiled his heart and harnessed his mind to act more decisively. He did not believe in the Lord, did not follow the word of God, why did people trust him? Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. In Patrick's ideal world, anyone who defies the will of God will be punished.

She didn't say anything, but then, before leaving, said:

"You know, Padre, when I was a child, my parents took me to church. I liked listening to the psalms," and smiled. At that moment, Patrick understood the whole point of things: she is his Mary; she is a sinner, but he will forgive her for all her sins.

A day ago, Patrick gave her a cross. With a gentle, reverent smile, he shyly looked at her and held out a silver cross that meant the whole world to him. It was worn by his mother, the Mother of God, who so diligently protects her son from any influences of his peers. She was perfect, unattainable, and if Patrick had had the right, he would have taken her to Heaven; he was sure that she was waiting for him and his angel, his beloved. Mom had beautiful eyes, kind, she said that God had big plans for him. She said that when he was baptized,the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove.

Mom didn't hug him, she said that love can only be for the Lord, but is it right or wrong to kiss mom? For Patrick, there was love for the Heavenly Father, for God, and he considered other feelings to be instincts that make people look like animals; they ceased to be like Lord.

When Patrick was little, the sun was brighter, and Mom was the strongest in the world, he watched her. Watched her behavior, posture and appearance the same way watched beloved. Patrick saw the sanctity of his mother, with a gasp and tickling in his stomach, he imagined that nameless force flowing in her and given to him.

Patrick was praying for his mother. Patrick prayed for beloved, taken away by Langdon. She accepted his gift, looked away and nodded, but he felt her awkwardness and was angry with the professor. If there was one person to whom Patrick did not treat favorably, besides father, it was Robert Langdon. He had haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among Catholic brothers. Langdon walks like a devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.

The doors creaked open and rapid but careful footsteps were heard. It was her. Patrick was waiting for her appearance more than anything in the world. He hid the cross, proclaiming «amen» and turned to her in fright. She was tense, looking at him with confusion and a kind of anger, angry and determined. Patrick looked at her, tried to control his voice and thoughts, worried when answering and lost. He had never experienced feelings like this for people before; he always treated everyone with a protective love, the way the Lord treats his creatures.

Hands were shaking — was it cold or tremor? Was it reality or a dream?

She talked about the church, she talked about his decisions and Silvano's diaries, but he could enjoy her, understood that very soon they would be waiting for the Empyrean. Patrick will teach her faith, and she will follow him. He is the Son of God, he will preach the faith all over the world! and hug his angel, stroke the hidden hair.

"He urged to notify everyone about the discovery. It could become a scientific proof of the existence of God! This could put an end to the enmity of religion and science! Why did you do that?"

"His discovery is not pleasing to God, it is blasphemous! Is it really not clear?"

She stumbled, as if accepting his words, as Patrick continued to advance. He was pleading, saying in his head like a crazy, fanatic: she will change her mind, refuse, need to become her teacher, her Rabbi! He will help her cope: her chest will be filled with faith and she will place all her hopes only on Him and the Lord. Patrick will not be able to find a single psalm, not a single verse to show her. But now she is like a black rose piercing his heart with thorns, and he is like a defenseless insect caught in the net of a formidable flower.

All roses go to Hell, but Patrick will help her gain immortality.

Her smell charmed him — she smelled of books, smelled of shampoo; as a child, mother said that there was nothing more beautiful than incense, soldiers did not talk about such topics, blamed and laughed at him. Mom also said, taught that it is always worth staying open before God and not hiding secrets, evil intentions. Every time entrance to the nave, he walked straight and, falling on his knees, prayed; Patrick talked to the Lord, spent the whole night in prayer and turning to God. Only the Almighty could understand him, His son.

In the light of the fire, her face turned red, transformed, and only half was visible. In addition to the fireplace, there were lighted candles on the candelabra in the room. It was dark outside the window, and Saturday was coming. The uncontrollable sun was setting, humbly lowered its rays in front of the sister Moon and allowed the night to rule. The stars of the sky fell to the earth as the fig tree sheds its winter fruit when shaken by a gale. The sky vanished like a scroll that is being rolled up. Patrick did not like nights, did not like to hide sins, and it was this part of the day that was famous for debauchery and vices.

"Cardinals are adherents of the faith. Believing in the existence of evil, they fused. And all Catholics will soon rally in the face of this threat," he spoke clearly, was not afraid and approached his angel, who was looking at him in confusion. Patrick looked meekly at her neck and did not find the cross; he pressed his lips together. She said that she would not take it off, that she would wear it in honor of the first scientific case! in honor of... in honor of Him!

"Which is not! That sounds... It sounds like nonsense!" She threw up her hands and her eyebrows jumped. There was a glimmer of hope in eyes; the hope that Patrick would understand and accept everything, confess to the crime, and they would leave. But Patrick was not a fool, he did not listen to his angel and looked at her in incomprehension. He was silent, and his beloved was silent, until he frowned and suddenly broke the silence:

"Where is your cross?"

"W-what? What cross?"

"The one that I gave you," Patrick confidently approached her until his angel retreated and rested back against a stone wall. She grabbed sleeves, touched them, and looked anywhere but at him. Patrick kept saying something, he couldn't believe that she, his Maria! — this is how relates to divine things. The cross he gave her was worn by His mother, His holy mother! "You said you'd wear it. Said! As a memory, only for the sake of our successes! Good luck in finding Pope's killer!"

"Mr. McKenna, Padre," catching his burning gaze, she stumbled, "Patrick, I'll wear it tomorrow, you know how I feel about this theory. I promise you, I'll put it on right before departure..."

Her speeches — and her voice, the owner of which could be either a succubus or an angel, — were interrupted by a crash: Patrick clung tightly to the cross, falling to his knees; the cassock now touched the floor and collected dust, his fingers turned white, and his lips involuntarily and incredibly quickly whispered something — there were prayers, psalms or poems, it is impossible to understand. Patrick was licking his lips, his jaw was shaking, and his eyes were tightly closed. Images of his beloved flashed through his head, His divine image seemed to him; Patrick seemed to be himself, but not in a typical cassock, but in a prayer chiton that his mother knitted for him as a child, and leather sandals.

"O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up, you discern my thoughts from afar," the words jumped one after another, got confused. Patrick was breathing loudly, quickly, and shudderingly; his brown hair was disheveled and fell over his face. "I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come. I have been forgotten like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel. O God, you know my folly; the wrongs I have done are not hidden from you. Preserve my life, for I am godly; save your servant, who trusts in you — you are my God," he said everything in different order, madly shaking his head and squeezing his shoulders.

Patrick looked sharply at the frightened lover, looking for a way out of a desperate situation and yes! it was about her that He was talking! «Behold, I send an angel before you to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared», — it was his angel that was being talked about, his Mary, his beloved. She will save him with her love, and he will save her with his faith! Vows and dogmas no longer choked, did not constrict the throat, the garrotte was lowered, and he could breathe calmly. The cardinals were wrong, the interpreters and teachers were wrong, only He knew the truth: Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love.

He grabbed her cold hands — the wounds on his palms were treacherously sore, the stigmata inflicted during the night reminded him of themselves; for Patrick carried for bear on body the marks of Jesus — and bowed his head, touching her tender hands with his forehead. But after that, remaining on his knees and soiling his cassock, Patrick looked at her tenderly, with the purest kindness and love. Love is only such as the Lord treats his children with.

"My dear, purest angel, I ask you to understand me, to become a part of me," Patrick saw his beloved looking around, wants to scream and regrets that does not have a weapon with her. "I am in awe of you, I kneel. My heart flutters at the sight of you. You are my Maria, I promise to help you gain knowledge," he kissed her hands. "I am His Son, the Son of God, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!"

Belly treacherously ill, burdened the heaviness below. Patrick did not take his eyes off the frightened beloved — what was she afraid of? his words? faith? — but He knew He would help her. She walked in the dark, did not know where to go, wandered in fragments of the past, but He will be able to help her find faith, knowledge and love. And this is love, that walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment, just ashave heard from the beginning, so that should walk in it.

A mad silence, deafening silence enveloped the room. Patrick looked at beloved with fascination, looked into her eyes, but did not find love, humility, only fear in them. She was a sinner, but she will love the Truth, love the Lord, and wash her crimes with tears. Her sins, which are many, are forgiven — for she loved much. But He who is forgiven little, loves little. He felt nose begin to sting and His eyes to water when He recalled her false purpose — in moments of lull in the conversation, His angel loved to joke, to talk about some inconsistencies that she found in the Scriptures. At her conjectures, Patrick only grinned and shook head; how much carelessness there was in her words.

"...It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me," Patrick broke the silence and kissed His beloved's hands while she began to mumble incoherently. Her words flew past ears. How delightful and divine she was! could only be compared to His Father! He will not repeat His father's mistake, because His father is not the Pope, His Father is He, the Lord, because Patrick is the Son of God. So Patrick humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

Ubi caritas et amor

Deus ibi est

in fact, i have always been amazed by how people write about patrick here on tumblr, completely missing his character: presenting him either too soft and gentle, or else rewriting the canon where he is innocent. that is what i'm talking about - patrick is crazy, he's a fanatic, especially if you judge by his motives (what's in the movie, what's in the book). so i present my version, i hope you will like it and the character of patrick has remained canonical. (but don't really like what i've written, and i'll try better next time). 

thank for three hundred subscribers!

[thisispurpleyam]

Shooting Stars and Pseudoscience [part 1]

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Gianna (fem!OC) (poc!oc)

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 6,222

Warnings: Sexual innuendos and curse words

Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst, eventual smut

Summary: Soulmate! AU Each person is born with a soul mark that is identical with their soulmate’s. Nathan Bateman thinks it’s all nonsense, but his soulmate doesn’t. As if the whole idea wasn’t ridiculous enough already, his soulmate is none other than the popstar who is currently Blue Book’s brand ambassador.

Notes: Click here to see how this idea came to be

Playlist

---

‘Former Blue Book Employee Calls Nathan Bateman an Insensitive Lunatic’

‘How a Week With Blue Book’s Owner Led a Computer Coder to Quit’

‘Blue Book’s Fall From Grace?’

“Have you seen these headlines?” Thomas, Nathan Bateman’s publicist, questioned. 

Nathan rolled his eyes at the image on his monitor. “Of course I have, but since when did we give a shit about gossip?”

“This isn’t just some gossip, this is a fucking PR disaster, Nathan!” Thomas exclaimed, flailing his hands in the air for emphasis. “These are statements from somebody who actually lived with you for a week! Somebody you handpicked but couldn’t even afford to be nice to. Do you understand how bad this is?

The scientist sighed in disinterest. “Not really, but you seem to think it’s pretty bad.”

“Would it kill you to give a fuck about public opinion for once in your life? Daily Mail, Yahoo News, People.com, they’re everywhere! If this bad publicity goes on, your company is gonna take the blow. There will be a decrease in sales.”

“Fine, what do you propose?”

“We get another celebrity brand ambassador to help promote the products Blue Book is about to launch.”

Nathan nodded noncommittally. “Who did you have in mind?”

“This was actually Monica’s idea, so she’ll take it from here.”

Monica, Nathan’s social media manager and Thomas’s wife, moved her seat closer to the computer and screen shared a PowerPoint presentation of news articles and social media accounts. 

 “Gianna? A popstar? That shit barely counts as real music,” Blue Book’s CEO complained. “Are we really that desperate?” 

“She has a clean reputation, a solid international fanbase, and a new album coming out,” Monica clicked onto the next slide. “She’s a sweetheart! She donates to charities, has a great network, and connects well with people. If she promotes your brand and the public sees the two of you getting along, it’ll really help soften the reclusive image you have going on.”

“It’s not an image, it’s a lifestyle.”

Monica exasperatedly shook her head at Nathan. “You know what? Lemme show you an example of what Caleb has been saying so you’ll see what I mean.”

“He’s narcissistic, condescending, and has probably never heard of hospitality,” Monica recited from an article she began screen-sharing. “He has a massive god complex and prefers the company of wires and gadgets over actual humans. In fact, that guy has had no real human interaction in ages, I won’t be surprised if he has sex with his own creations too.” 

“Okay, I get it!” Nathan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “The people think I’m a maniac, so we have to paint a more sympathetic image.”

“Look, you wanna live in some faraway estate all by yourself and be rude to your guest? Fine,” Monica gritted out in agitation. “You wanna create a perfect AI that you can have sex with? You do you. But what I can’t let you do is drag every other innocent Blue Book employee and their careers into this mess you’ve created.”

After heaving out a sigh, Nathan finally conceded. “Alright. Tell me what I have to do.”

*****

“That’s all for today,” the choreographer announced after the song concluded. “Great job, everybody!”

Gianna lingered for a bit in the dance studio to chat with the choreographer and her back-up dancers. She thanked them all before heading to the conference room for her meeting. When she entered the elevator, she redid her ponytail, did some quick minor touch ups, and gave her reflection another once over right before the elevator reached her stop. 

“Good afternoon, ladies!” Gianna cheerfully greeted as she walked into the conference room. 

Jillian, her personal assistant and long time friend, got up from her seat to give her a hug. “Hey! How did rehearsals go?”

Agnes, Gianna’s manager, stated, “I’m sure she killed it, as always!”

“If being out of breath counts as killing it, then yeah!” Gianna laughed in response.

Jillian smiled and pulled out a cup with a familiar logo. “I figured you must be tired, so I got you your favorite drink from your favorite cafe!” 

While the three continued to catch up, Krista, the singer’s publicist, and Dinah, her social media manager, trickled into the room and expressed their greetings as they took their seats around the table. 

“Apparently,” Agnes began when everyone in the team finally got situated, “Nathan Bateman’s team reached out to Krista and was asking if you could be their next celebrity brand ambassador.”

“They reasoned that since you’re already headlining at the launch of Blue Book’s music streaming service in two days, why not offer you a brand deal as well?” Krista elaborated. “Plus, working with such a well-known company could help bring your music to new audiences worldwide.”

“Did they say how long I had to decide?” The popstar inquired. 

“Until the end of the week,” her publicist answered. “Monica, Nathan Bateman’s publicist, also requested that I arrange plandid moments between you and Bateman for the cameras after your performance at the event. She said that being seen with you could sway the public into thinking, and I quote, ‘that he’s capable of making friends because they’re nice people and not because they can help with his research.’”

Gianna scoffed incredulously. “The caveman is coming out of hiding and needs my help? That can’t be good.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles,” Dinah mentioned in agreement.

“At this point, who hasn’t?” Gianna rhetorically asked. “It’s been known that he’s an arrogant egotistical prick, but to think he’d be rude to his own guest that he invited? Money really can’t buy class.” 

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Dinah stressed. “His team is struggling to curate a somewhat decent image of him. They can barely get him to show up to his scheduled public appearances.”

Upon hearing all that, Nathan’s difficult nature worried the singer even more. “Won't attaching my name to his brand hurt my image, then?” 

“Not really,” her social media manager reassured her. “Bateman might’ve gotten himself in trouble, but his company is still favored by the public. A lot of people on social media are only bad mouthing him and talking about how he doesn’t deserve a company full of good and honest workers.”

Gianna laughed dryly. “They got a point there.”

“If anything, they’d think that associating yourself with Bateman is public service.” Agnes handed Gianna several documents. “You already know that Blue Book is donating half of the money they’ll earn from the streaming service launch to Make-A-Wish Foundation. As for the two other products launching later this year, they’ve chosen to donate to RAINN and ASPCA.”

“If you agree to this brand deal,” Krista added, “they’re letting you pick a charity for each event and product you'll be attached to because they know how much giving back to the community means to you. And even though their new phone has already been launched, you still get your pick of charity since you’ll be modeling for the print ads.”

The singer mulled it over for a moment and mentally weighed the pros and cons. “Let’s do it.”

*****

‘Loneliness Caused Nathan Bateman to Make His Own Sex Robots?’

Nathan had recently landed in Los Angeles and was in the middle of getting ready for the launch when he came across another scathing article about him. He forwarded a link to his lawyer with a brief text that said, “call me.” Within seconds, he heard a familiar ring from his phone.

“Isn’t this a breach of the NDA?!” Nathan questioned as soon as he heard Kyle breathe on the line. 

“Hello to you too, Bateman.” Kyle then regretfully answered, “But no, it isn’t.”

Nathan adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he paced in his hotel room. “So we can’t pin him down?” 

“The second I caught wind of this news, I looked closely into the terms of your NDA and checked if there was anything Caleb violated. However, because he didn’t outright say anything and merely used a hyperbolic statement, he’s safe.”

“That son of a bitch!”

“Are you really surprised, though?” Kyle asked bluntly. “You experimented on the guy and almost got him killed.”

“You don’t say.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Nathan shook his head and heaved a sigh. “No, that’s all for now. Just…keep an eye out for me.”

“Will do. And Nathan?”

“What now?”

“Play nice. Don’t scare the popstar away.”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Not long after the call ended, Nathan made his way to the elevator and pressed the button that would lead him to the event’s venue. The elevator doors hadn’t even completely opened yet, and he could already hear the boom of the music coming from the room. Walking through the foyer, he could tell how much his company outdid themselves. The team had decided on going for a futuristic themed party, and the whole place was transformed into a technological wonderland with a sprinkle of scientific motifs. The snacks were cut out like cell phones, speakers, radios, and other gadgets. The LED lights were shaped like headphones. The staff donned sparkly silver attires, and their trays held beaker shaped wine glasses and Earlenmeyer flask shaped cups. Glowing party cups contained the non-alcoholic beverages. His team even prepared stations where guests can get an immersive experience with the latest models of Blue Book’s devices. 

As Blue Book’s founder continued his tour of the venue, he noticed guests turning their heads and exchanging surprised remarks with their friends. Monica and Thomas decided that it was best to only tell a select number of people about Nathan’s arrival in Los Angeles to minimize the amount of damage he could potentially do to the paps. “Last thing we need is you cursing out a poor paparazzi or smashing his camera to bits,” Thomas brought up while they were discussing the plan. Only Gianna and her team knew the specifics while the staff of the launch party had barely been notified of his appearance a few hours prior. Thomas did make sure that there would be plenty of paps at the event, so if they didn’t know about Nathan Bateman’s presence, they were soon about to.

Nathan walked further into the room toward the location where a platform was set up and headed to his reserved seat near the stage. He made it just as Carina Garcia, a Latin pop singer who was scheduled to open for Gianna, was doing her last number. The audience applauded after Carina hit the final pose of the choreography, and she and her dancers cleared the stage as the host made his way back. The second he announced Gianna’s name, the crowd cried out in excitement and began chanting. Nathan looked back, puzzled as to what it was about the popstar that elicited such a reaction from the audience. 

Gianna and her backup dancers soon filled the stage as the opening instrumentals to her first number blared out through the speakers. The singer carried out the choreography flawlessly while skillfully executing each note, making sure to wave and wink at the crowd every once in a while. The pop star didn’t waste a single second of the time she was allotted. She showcases her versatility by singing songs in various styles such as several different sub-genres of pop, R&B, neo-soul, and house. Although Nathan had a different sonic preference, he was admittedly impressed by her musicality and lyricism. He wouldn’t dare say it out loud to anyone, but he was having fun at the show, particularly enjoying Gianna’s modern disco tune.

After the sixth song number, the music halted, and the dancers left the stage. A mic stand was brought to the middle, and Gianna took her place behind it. “Good evening, everybody! Thank you so much for having me.” The singer took a pause to catch her breath and have a sip of water while the audience cheered her on encouragingly. “Ever since I started doing live shows, I’ve made sure to always share a part of my culture by singing in my native language. These next two songs are very special to me as I wrote and co-produced both of them. I hope you enjoy them just as much as I do. And if by any chance you know the lyrics, please sing along!”

The first of the two was an alternative R&B track sung in Tagalog, her native tongue. He may not have understood the words, but he felt her sincerity. As he looked around the room, he noticed a handful of people mouthing the lyrics along with her, and he was suddenly awestruck by how music can resonate with people despite the language barrier. 

The next Tagalog tune was slower and had a more soulful feel. He noticed that she connected with the lyrics differently, and he was intrigued by the emotional vulnerability she exhibited as she poured her heart into the song. Its melody and musical arrangement had him so hooked that he felt an unusual sense of longing as the song came to an end. 

The dancers returned on the platform while upbeat instrumentals resounded through the speakers, and the mic stand was removed from the center stage. Nathan was so caught up in Gianna’s performance that he hadn’t noticed a bespectacled middle-aged woman taking a seat next to him until she spoke. “I’m Joan, your new personal assistant,” she coldly introduced herself. 

Nathan raised an eyebrow and scrutinizingly inspected Joan. “They hired somebody to babysit me?“

“Seeing how you almost died the last time you were left unattended, we all agreed it was necessary.”

The scientist laughed to himself, taken aback but pleased by the woman’s bluntness. “Touché.”

True to his assessment, Joan jumped right into business. “Gianna has two songs left to perform before she gets changed into more comfortable clothes. She’s going to meet you at the foyer. You need to grab at least one drink together and be seen having a chat over some snacks. That way, the meeting doesn’t seem like just a coincidental one-off thing, you wanna seem like you guys actually wanna be talking to each other.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and snorted. “You want me to spoon-feed the popstar too?” 

“You’re not required to do anything. You don’t even have to proceed with the plan. Just know that if you screw this up-”

“I know, I know.The company’s at stake, my poor employees.” Nathan shook his head as he huffed in annoyance, making his way back to the foyer.

*****

“You ready?” Jillian asked Gianna after the singer shed her costume in exchange for a more casual attire, a breathable and loose fitting romper. 

Gianna applied a lighter shade of lipstick and smacked her lips in front of the vanity before replying, “Now I am.”

Jillian looked at her friend a little more intently and raised her eyebrows. “You know what I meant.”

The musician shrugged as she prepared her purse. “I think so? 

“It’s not too late to back out, babes,” Agnes gently told Gianna. “Krista is in the middle of contacting the paps and finalizing a couple more details with Bateman’s team. If you’re not up for it, I can tell her to call the whole thing off.”

“You guys, it’s just one guy! Sure he’s richer and kind of a dick, but I’ll be fine! 

Dinah affectionately laughed at how concerned the girls were for Gianna and chimed in. “Nathan Bateman’s got nothing on our girl! She’ll put him in his place. Stop worrying so much!”

“Yeah!” Gianna affirmed confidently. “He’s just a cocky tech genius. How bad can it be?”

Cameras and compliments welcomed the popstar the moment she stepped out of the elevator doors. She made her way around the room to thank as many guests as she could, genuinely enjoying meeting new people and making her fans smile. When the buzz surrounding her arrival died down, Gianna then set her sights on the task at hand. She scanned the foyer and spotted the billionaire, sporting his usual polo and khaki pants attire, tinkering with one of the Blue Book phones on display. 

“That’s a great model, by the way,” Gianna remarked when she reached Nathan’s side, holding up her baby pink colored Blue Book phone. “Although, I do wish you had it in lilac.”

Nathan looked up from the display and carefully eyed the popstar. The CEO angled his body to face the singer, slightly tilting his head as he continued studying her wordlessly. Gianna’s gaze didn’t falter, defiantly raising her head and stepping closer to him in response. In reality, the entire exchange probably only took about 10 seconds, but it somehow felt much longer given the intensity of Nathan’s stare. 

Her entire demeanor transformed in a millisecond when she donned the sweetest smile she could offer to him as she extended her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! I’m Gianna.”

“You’re shorter than I thought you’d be,” Nathan commented before shaking her hand. Even in her 5 inch heels, he still stood nearly a head taller than her despite only being 5’9. 

If it wasn’t for the slight crinkle of her nose and the fleeting furrow of her brows that marred her smile, her irritation would’ve been undetectable, a blink-or-you’ll-miss-it moment. “Well, aren’t you the charmer,” she replied, gripping his hand ever so slightly tighter. 

Nathan smirked and gripped her hand back, pulling her a little closer to him. “So you think I’m charming?”

Gianna finally released the handshake but kept her stance, folding her arms across her chest while maintaining a smile that contrasted her tone just in case any cameras were on them. “Says the guy who’s dressed like a Best Buy employee.”

So the popstar has some bite to her. “At least I know how to appreciate real music,” Nathan bit back challengingly.

“And here I thought you only knew how to appreciate the sound of your own voice.”

This is gonna be fun. “Would you appreciate a drink?” 

“Didn’t think you had good manners.”

Nathan placed a hand on the small of her back as he led the two of them to the open bar. “There’s no way heels like that are practical,” he voiced as he helped her up the bar stool.

“No, but as weapons? They can cause some serious damage.”

The bartender approached the pair, interrupting the question Nathan was about to utter. “You speaking from experience?” he said as soon as the bartender disappeared.

“Oh yeah. Broke a guy’s toe once for being a creep at a bar and kicked my stalker in the groin to teach him a lesson.”

“Good girl.”

Before Gianna could react, the bartender returned with their drinks in beaker shaped wine glasses. The singer wasted no time in grabbing hers so she could conceal the blush that crept up her cheeks. 

“Not a fan of red wine much, are you,” the CEO commented upon seeing Gianna’s expression after taking a sip 

“It’s not that. It’s just a little…” Gianna motioned with her left hand, struggling to find the right adjective. 

“Oaky? Smoky?” 

“Yeah, those! My bad, I just don’t drink much.”

“What? The popstar’s too good for drinking or something?”

“No, alcohol dries out the vocal cords. I kinda need them in tip top shape for my job.”

The billionaire simply hummed in response before taking another sip of his drink.

“Come on, let’s get to our final stop,” Gianna said, motioning to the snack table.

Nathan stood up and offered his arm to her, allowing her to steady herself while she descended the bar stool. 

“I was gonna commend you for your chivalry, but then I figured it must be the drink getting to you,” the singer quipped.

“Please, it’ll take a lot more drinks for me to get affected. Besides, I can’t have you falling on your ass and drawing any more unwanted attention.”

The popstar plastered an artificial smile on her face before a scowl could form. “How sweet of you!”

“So,” Nathan began after taking a bite from a boombox shaped cookie and making sure that no one else was in their vicinity, “how much did my reps pay you for you to agree to this deal?”

“This might be a little hard for your tech genius brain to comprehend, but not everything has to be motivated by money.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t get paid?”

“Now that’s unpaid labor, and I don't think you want to attract any more unwanted attention,” she answered, echoing his sentiments from earlier. “Least of all, from the law.” 

“Fine, don’t tell me your reasons. I’ll find out eventually.”

“I’m sure you will,” Gianna nonchalantly responded as she grabbed a laptop shaped cookie. She tilted her head and observed him appraisingly as she nibbled on her snack. She took another sip from her wine glass and continued examining the scientist. 

“Can I help you?” 

“I know you have your opinions on what the news says about you, but they do consistently get one thing right.”

“Which is?”

A cheeky grin took over Gianna’s face as she said, “You really do grow an impressive beard.”

Nathan skeptically narrowed his eyes at her, not buying the compliment one bit. “Oh yeah?” 

“Sure! It looks like a built-in chia pet.”

The billionaire was unable to hold in a chortle, shaking his head at the musician in amusement. “That’s creative. That’s actually so fucking creative, I’ll give you that.” 

*****

“Good work today,” Thomas told Nathan through the phone, genuinely relieved that the CEO followed the plan through. “Joan said you guys looked really convincing.” 

“You just reminded me,” Nathan brought up to his publicist, “if you’re gonna get me a guardian, it would’ve been nice to have been informed.” 

“If we did, would you have agreed?” his publicist retorted. 

“Probably not. Still, I could’ve prepared. Anyway, how much money did that popstar’s team demand from us?”

“They didn’t demand any. We offered her team $5 million at first, but they said that Gianna won’t attach her name to any brands unless it’s for a good cause.”

“So how’d you close the deal?”

“We settled on a $5 million deal plus a charity of her choosing for every product we have her endorse.”

“Huh. A popstar with a heart of gold.” Nathan mused, genuinely not anticipating the revelation. “It's good branding.” 

“Or, she could genuinely be a nice person. You should take notes.”

Not looking forward to another lecture, Nathan opted for a different topic. “So when do we know if the plan is actually working?”

“It’s working, alright. I’ll email you some photos Monica’s been putting together.”

Nathan set his laptop on the desk in his hotel room and did as much work as he could while he waited for his publicist’s email. It was nearly 11 pm, but he had yet to feel the urge to fall asleep. His body was having trouble adjusting to the new timezone, so he busied himself in hopes of self-inducing exhaustion. Several minutes went by before Nathan heard the ‘ping’ of his email notification that came from Thomas.

‘’No fucking way y’all. Nathan Bateman and THE Gianna are friends?! Maybe he’s not that bad”

“I’m not saying my queen can do no wrong, but if she thinks he’s worthy enough to be her friend, we may have misjudged him”

“Of course Gianna was able to uncover Nathan Bateman’s hidden friendly side.”

In the email, the publicist attached screencaps of people reacting to Nathan’s photos with Gianna on Twitter. The paps captured several moments between the billionaire and the singer, but the fan favorites seemed to be the one by the gadget display and the one by the snack table. Based on the photos alone, no one would be able to tell that the two had never spoken before, let alone that it was a rather tense first meeting. Gianna’s a pretty damn good actress, Nathan acknowledged. 

*****

Gianna felt the warm water of the hot tub soothe her aching muscles, leaning back and closing her eyes in contentment. She let out a long heavy sigh, grateful for the peace and quiet. It was a little over 11 pm, late enough for her to have the whole indoor pool to herself. As much as she loved her job, putting on choreography-heavy shows and constantly having to mingle with different crowds were no easy feats. Still, she wouldn’t trade it for the world. The soff buzzing of her phone distracted her from her reverie, and she reached over the edge of the hot tub to grab the device. 

“Hey girl! Sorry if it’s a little late. Just doing a last minute head-count for the party next week. Will I see you there?” Carina Garcia’s message read.

The singer smiled, relieved that the text notification was not work related. “Rinaaa! Of course I’ll be at your release party! I’ve been waiting for your album for ages!”

“Thank youuu! Hopefully we can collab soon! Also, you absolutely killed it tonight, as always.” 

Gianna heard the creak of the doors just as she was hitting send on her reply. She set her phone back down and prepared to interact with a guest who could potentially recognize her. She was met with disappointment, though, when she made eye contact with whoever walked through the doors.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” In front of the double doors stood Nathan who was clad in a sleeveless shirt and gym shorts while a towel hung over his shoulder. 

“You can’t ask me to leave. I was here first,” Gianna defensively stated, irritated that the billionaire’s presence was disrupting her peace. 

Nathan exhaled in annoyance as he strolled toward the hot tub. “I knew I should’ve had the whole place reserved.”

“That’s so excessive, why would you waste money on that?”

He set his towel down on a chaise lounge near the pool and pulled his tank top over head. “I’m Nathan fucking Bateman, I can do whataver I want.”

“That's a funny way of admitting you’re an overgrown toddler who doesn’t know how to share,” Gianna retaliated, averting her gaze from his (rather impressive) shirtless frame. He stepped in the hot tub and took a few steps closer to where Gianna was sitting.  “Hold up! Right there’s close enough”

“What, you think I got cooties or something?” Nathan quipped, settling down on the bench directly across from her.

“No, but there could be cameras around. We only need the public to think we’re friends, not hooking up too.”

Nathan smirked and smugly raised an eyebrow. “Would that be so bad? I think it’s a compliment, actually”

Gianna snorted and glared at him. “You wish, Bateman. I’d blame the jet lag, but it’s probably just your ego.”

“My team didn’t put me through hell reading thirst tweets on Buzzfeed just so you can doubt me.“

“They don’t teach anatomy in billionaire school, so I doubt you’ll even know how to give a woman an orgasm.”

“Would you like to test that theory? I could debunk it for you.”

“Absolutely not.” 

Nathan shrugged at her as if to say ‘suit yourself’ and leaned back, closing his eyes massaging his temples. He still had his glasses on as he only intended on taking a moment to unwind in the hot tub instead of actually going for a swim. Gianna reveled in the quiet and reclined against the edge of the tub once again. 

“I figured it out, you know,” Nathan announced, breaking the silence. He continued after not getting a response, “What got you to close the deal.”

“And that is?”

“Charity,” he pointedly said to her. “You’re a fucking sap.”

She sat up and scowled at him. “Excuse me for actually caring about the well-being of others.” 

“What did you choose for this one?”

“The Asian Mental Health Collective.”

“And for the other products?”

“Shouldn’t you know already? I thought Blue Book’s CEO looks up everybody he meets so he can judge if they’re worthy enough or some shit”

“I didn’t wanna risk finding out anything about you that would make me even more reluctant to stick with the plan.”

“Was me being a popstar instead of a robot not enough of a deterrent?” Gianna questioned sardonically. 

“It was almost too much.” Their conversation was interrupted by the shriek of Nathan’s alarm. He briskly grabbed his phone to turn it off and check the time. “Back to work,” he sighed, standing up from his seat and turning around to climb up the steps. 

Before he could go any further, Gianna abruptly got up and grabbed his arm. “Wait!”

Nathan looked over his shoulder at her. “Have you changed your mind about testing that theory?”

“Shut up,” Gianna told him distractedly. Her eyes were glued to a specific spot on his left shoulder blade. “Stay still!”

Nathan grunted and begrudgingly complied. He felt Gianna let go of his arm, bringing up her shaky hand to tentatively touch his soulmark. “What the fuck?” she finally spoke up, dismay lacing her voice. 

He turned around to look at her in agitation. “Yeah, I have a soulmark too, big deal.” 

“Look!” She commanded him, angling her torso to one side to show him her left rib cage. She adjusted her bikini top to reveal her soul mark a little below her breast. Hers was a few shades darker than her skin tone and shaped like a shooting star, just like his.

His stunned eyes met her dumbfounded ones. “No fucking way.”

Gianna moved herself away from Nathan and shakily sat back down. Distress was written all over her face as she rapidly fluttered her eyelids to fight the tears she felt forming. 

“Don’t tell me you actually buy into that pseudoscience bullshit. Most of it is correlation anyway instead of actual causation!”

The singer looked up and shot daggers at the Blue Book’s founder. “That pseudoscience bullshit to you is truth to me. I grew up believing in soulmates. My parents, my sister and her fiancé, my aunt and her husband. What they all have is beautiful.”

“I’m not thrilled about this either, okay, Princess? Look, I have my own theories about soulmates, but you being mine contradicts every single one of them.” 

“Finally! Something we agree on!” She got up, stepping closer to him and looking him in the eye. “We can’t even stand each other!”

“This must be a mistake.”

“A glitch in the matrix!”

“So let’s never talk about it again.” 

“Deal.” Gianna nervously surveyed her surroundings to make sure that their discussion had no other witnesses. “I’m gonna go now. Wait at least 10 minutes before walking out so nobody suspects we were together.”

“That’s such a-“

“10 minutes!”

“Fine.”

The popstar swiftly gathered her belongings, wrapped her bathrobe around her, and scurried toward the doors. She waited for them to close behind her before reverting back to a normal pace to not raise suspicion with her speed. Meanwhile, Nathan laid on a chaise lounge and impatiently waited for 10 minutes to go by. 

*****

“So what’s the verdict on Bateman?” Krista inquired after exchanging updates with Nathan’s reps.

“He could use some sensitivity training.” The singer was in the process of getting her hair and make-up done for her print ad photoshoot for Blue Book’s latest flagship phone. 

“Hey guys,” Dinah interrupted, rushing in through the hotel room door, “you should see this.” 

Gianna held Dinah’s phone and apprehensively eyed the article she had opened up. “Romance for the reclusive billionaire?” She read the headline aloud. The photo underneath depicted her standing toe to toe with Nathan as she looked up at him through her lashes. Thankfully, her elbow was bent at an angle that covered her soul mark while Nathan had his unmarked shoulder toward the camera. “One of the staff members must’ve seen us. What are they saying on social media?”

Gianna handed the phone back to Dinah, and her social media manager immediately typed the popstar’s name on Twitter. Gianna then took her own phone out, pulled up some of her fan accounts on Instagram, and scrolled through the comment section.

“Looks like somebody’s into bad boys”

“Alexa, play ‘Mayores’ by Becky G”

“Why do they kinda look good together? The height difference???”

“A singer and a tech mogul? Grimes and Elon Musk are quaking.”

“Guys, quit comparing Gianna and Nathan to Grimes and Elon Musk cause Gianna and Nathan are hotter!!!”

“That went better than expected,” Gianna muttered after seeing the public’s reaction. 

Krista gently touched her shoulder. “Are you okay”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine!” Gianna honestly replied. “Just a little peeved that it had to be Bateman, out of all people, but I’m sure it’ll pass. 

“Is there anything we can do?” Dinah offered. 

“Nah. I don’t plan on being alone with him ever again anyway, so it should blow over soon.” Gianna reassured them. 

Jillian joined in after helping set up Gianna’s wardrobe. “Okay, but, can I ask?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The singer responded. 

“Did you two actually… do the do?” 

“Of course not! He interrupted my alone time, so honestly this whole thing’s on him.”

“But if you ever wanted to, we’d help cover it up,” Jillian told her. “Like, come on! He’s hot!” 

To Gianna’s disbelief, both Dinah and Krista giggled and nodded in agreement. The singer rolled her eyes as she finished lacing up her shoes. “You all need to get your eyes checked.” 

Gianna and her team headed to the photoshoot location where Agnes had already arrived to help with setting up. During the drive to the studio, Dinah phoned Agnes to fill her in on the dating rumors while Krista emailed Bateman’s team regarding future plans. Much to Gianna’s chagrin, Nathan was already scheduled to be present at the photoshoot and most of the other publicity events surrounding Blue Book’s latest products to seem like “a more hands-on CEO.”

“What charity was her pick this time?” Nathan asked Agnes during the 15 minute break.

“Pawssion Project from the Philippines. Why?”

“Nothing. Just curious.”

“Are you testing if I’m actually serious about donating?” Gianna walked up behind him after she finished changing into a different outfit.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Nathan turned around to reply, alerting Agnes that it was her cue to leave. 

“I take it you’ve heard the news.”

“Yup. Told you it’d be a compliment.”

“Ugh, don’t flatter yourself, Bateman. Being around a popstar is probably just making you more attractive.”

“Did you just say that I’m attractive?”

“Oh my god, I can’t stand you.” Gianna groaned in annoyance. “Do you think they heard us?”

Nathan didn’t need any more specifics for him to understand. “No, it’s really unlikely. Judging from the angle of the photo, they couldn’t have been near enough to make out what we were saying.” 

“Good. As long as we’re never seen alone together again, we’re fine.”

*****

-One Week Later-

The it-girl of pop music may not be such a darling after all. Carina Garcia, Gianna’s labelmate and friend, has recently split from her long-term beau, actor Matthew Jauncey. Although there have been no official statements from any of the parties yet, photographs from Carina Garcia’s album release party suggest that Gianna’s dalliance with the actor may have caused the break-up. Who knew that the pop sweetheart is actually quite the temptress?

“This makes no sense!” Gianna exclaimed as she threw her phone down her couch. “Dalliance? We just met!”

“What happened?” Jillian picked up the phone from the couch to see what triggered such a reaction from her friend. 

“That picture of him leaning over to me? He was telling me where the restroom was because I asked him! He wasn’t ‘whispering sweet nothings.’ He had to get close to my ear cause it was loud!” Gianna’s arms flailed while she recounted what actually transpired. “And the one at the bar? The bartender accidentally swapped our drinks! And he was getting that drink for Carina!”

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay! I’ll talk to Krista.”

“My career is over.” Gianna slumped down onto her couch, bringing up a hand to dry off the tears that began to fall. All the space that she normally enjoyed in her luxury apartment now felt suffocating to her.

“No,” Jillian crouched down in front of Gianna and looked her in the eye. “We’ll figure something out.” 

*****

“We can make it work,” Thomas stated. Nathan, Gianna, and their teams were all gathered for an impromptu meeting in Blue Book’s office in LA. “The public received them very positively, so we just have to follow it through.”

“Yeah, we’ll arrange for more public appearances together and plandids,” Krista agreed. 

“What’s our timeline?” Agnes asked.

“I’m thinking maybe 4-6 months?” Monica replied. “Whirlwind romances happen all the time, so it’s reasonable.”

Gianna struggled to conceal a snort. “Good luck making him commit to it for that long.”

“He will,” Joan reassured the singer. “I’ll make sure he sticks to the schedule.”

The meeting ended shortly, and everyone cleared the conference room leaving Gianna and Nathan behind. The businessman swiveled his chair to face the singer. “Turns out, you need me just as much as I need you now.”

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

77?

full on mad scientist c!dream bc why not.

TW: Kidnapping, human experimentation, abuse, torture, implied suicide attempts, possessive behaviour, body horror, sleep deprivation, electrocution, drugging, and an incredibly unreliable narrator.

——

Day three of testing.

This subject seems more resilient than the others, and hasn’t broken under Dream's pulling and prodding yet. He thinks he might keep this one.

Caucasian male, roughly between fourteen and sixteen, blond hair, blue eyes. Six foot three and weighing far less than he should. Scars across his wrists, sleeping rough on the street, no missing person report. Either no one misses him or they think he's done the inevitable. Mouthy and loud, with a strange style of speaking that at first Dream categorised as obnoxious but has since found an odd charm in. Incredibly resilient, physically and mentally. Responds to positive reinforcement and praise far better than negative reinforcement and punishment, though both elicit amusing reactions.

What? Dream may be a scientist, but that doesn’t mean he can't have some fun every now and again. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

He doesn’t need a name- Subject 9 fits perfectly fine- but he loudly insists on being called Tommy with such a ferocity it is how Dream has started to mentally catalogue him as such. Never out loud- never show weakness, that gets you killed. Maybe one day, if Tommy earns it. If Tommy survives.

The idea of him dying seems wrong, somehow. He’s lasted longer than the others. Maybe Dream will take a new subject, for the riskier experiments, and keep Tommy to the relatively safer ones. Oh, he'll make him perfect someday, but he'll perfect that on others first, have them die on the operating table for him.

Somehow, Dream gets the feeling that Tommy wouldn’t appreciate that, and it only amuses him further.

There is a grace in his improvements most would not grasp. Patchwork grafts of skin, hiding the thin but durable layer of armour underneath. A hairless, prehensile tail, like a rats but rather more uneven. Mis-matched, oddly coloured eyes enabling perfect night vision. A mouth full of perfectly sharp, iron teeth, to fit his new dietary need for raw flesh. Horns jutting out of bloodied and raw flesh, irregular in shape, sharp enough to gore any man to death.

Most, Dream knew, would find the result horrifying. For Dream, it elicited the same sort of response as a particularly small kitten.

Of course, this was only a tiny fraction of the amount of changes needed to truly make the perfect being. He needed to be taller, stronger. Claws, hooves, stingers, spikes. A million lethal poisons at his disposal. Wings, large enough to allow his form to take into the air. Enhancements to the brain, cybernetics to allow him to think as fast and as logically as any supercomputer. Induced obedience- preferably, that of a sort that wouldn’t interfere with his hilarious shows of defiance that much.

Really, Tommy should be thanking him. Instead, he was being an ungrateful little wretch.

Sighing, Dream administers another shock to the half-conscious subject, forcing him to open his eyes yet again. “You’re not done.”

“I- I can’t do anymore, man.” Lazily, the ungrateful brat gestured at the course Dream had so generously built to test his abilities. “I haven’t slept in days. I can’t move.”

Fine. Dream's soft heart will be the death of him, he knows, because he can’t resist those puppy dog eyes. He'd let the kid have a few hours. But first…

“You want to sleep?” Dream grinned. “Beg for it, then.”

“Wha- why?” Tommy glared up at him, trying very hard to look intimidating and failing.

“If you’re not going to be doing our tests, for the greater good of all humanity, at the very least you can be of some entertainment, surely.”

The defeated look on Tommy's face was priceless. “I- I- please let me sleep, I promise I’ll do all the tests later, please, I’ll be good, I will, promise, sir-“

“Doctor.” Dream insisted.

“Yeah, yeah. Doctor. Just- I’m so fuckin' tired, man. Please.”

And how could Dream resist such a polite request?

Only the most minute of shock was visible on the subjects face as the needle pierced his flesh, before the medicine quickly glazed over, leaving him dazed in a second and asleep in two. Like an animal, in hibernation. How fascinating.

Draping the least bloody sheet he could find over his prone form like a blanket, Dream paused a second before leaving the cell, smiling. “Sweet dreams, my Tommy.”

[cordytriestowrite]

A possible prompt could be Victorian Era Loki? I don't know, that was the first thing that came to my head, apologies if that isn't helpful 😅

Oh my god this was actually so helpful! Taking me out of my comfort zone and racing against my dying battery I managed to actually write something! I hope you enjoy!

Rumors

Loki x Reader

One Shot

In Asgard, people talk.

It was compulsory amongst the small populace to spread rumors, happening as frequently as commenting on the weather. Every family had a moment of gossiping noteworthiness, and no one person was immune, not even the Odinsons.

"I hear he sends letters to a young lady in Midgard."

They say about Thor as the gaggle of busybodies observe the man in question between the moving bodies of dancing, whispering couples. It was Thor's party and it had been the subject on everyone's lips after obligatory pleasantries. You had heard this fact one hundred times and in one hundred different ways. 

"I hear she's a scientist."

You had heard that bit too. 

"Well, I hear he almost refused his father's inheritance for her."

Nothing about this conversation was new to you, and yet you couldn't escape it. You could see everyone's lips moving, making the same words over and over again. They made you dizzy, made it hard to breathe. 

"Excuse me." You offered out of a requirement of decorum, but didn't actually wait for anyone to acknowledge you before slipping away.

Thor's party was supposed to be a mid-afternoon garden party, but the weather had turned nasty the day before and the grounds were still soft and damp keeping the party-goers packed inside. The sky was a slate grey wall of mauldin clouds and the air was sticky with rain but it was thankfully silent and thus preferable to being warm and dry inside.

But silent did not mean you were alone. Somehow amongst the dancing and schmoozing and gossiping the youngest Odinson had managed to slip away as you did. There was a cool nod from him, then an answering curtsy from you, and then more silence.

It was so rare to be in the company of another and not speak, maybe that's why you felt the need to fill the silence with the very dribble you had been escaping.

"I heard your father didn't even consider you for this inheritance."

If Loki was hurt by the rumor he did not display it openly. He simply raised an eyebrow and glanced out across the lawn.

"Why would a man pass his legacy on to a son that is not his own?"

Now that was news to you and you could not hide your shock. Loki Odinson was not a son of Odin? This fact came so easily to Loki. How could no one else have made any uttering of this claim; true or false?

"Ah, so that hasn't made its way out to the masses yet then?"

You shook your head, suddenly wishing you had kept your mouth shut. You would rather an awkward air lay between you than the weight of what you now knew. 

Loki's demeanor changed entirely, as had yours. He was now facing you full, eyes roving your face and he indulged in reading your thoughts through your eyes. He wore a small smirk that only grew when he spoke again. 

"So what rumors have you heard about me then, darling?"

Placing his hands behind his back he stepped closer to you then began to circle you slowly. You felt dizzy all over again and no amount of deep breathing slowed your racing heart.

"Or should I be asking what rumors about me you have spread yourself."

"No." You denied swiftly. Wanting to stamp down any impression Loki had that you were the cause of any hearsay. You thought you heard him chuckle, but it was so breathy that it may have just been a breeze on the back of your neck.

"Tell me."

"I heard you weren't considered for Odin's inheritance…" 

It was a cheap way to stall considering it was the same rumor that put you where you were now, but you needed to borrow time to consider yourself. This was Loki's home, his brother's party, where you were a guest, and this wasn't idle gossip between uninvolved parties. This was looking Loki in the eye and repeating every word you had heard about him. Oftentimes rumors were not flattering or tame. What you could say here could have you removed from the party or worse. 

"Yes, you've said this one before. What else?"

He was standing directly in front of you now. No longer circling like a vulture over a slowly dying animal. There was amusement on his face, pleasure in making you uncomfortable, and it was enough to urge you into speaking. With a deep breath and a hard gaze you looked him in the eye and began to repeat.

"I heard you cling to your mother's skirts like a child."

Loki simply shrugged.

"I love my mother. As we all should. What else?"

"I heard you almost got your brother killed."

Loki laughed openly, but briefly, like a memory came and went simultaneously.

"Thor is perfectly capable of doing that himself. What else?"

"I heard you practice...dark arts?"

This was a rumor even you didn't believe, but Loki kept asking and you felt compelled to keep giving information.

"I see nothing wrong with reading about other religions or practices. What else?"

You stumbled for a moment, overloaded with new information about Loki. For all you had heard of him you realized you never truly knew him, that you had never truly spoken to him until now. Is this all it took to know if gossip was true or not? Was it as simple as asking the person in question? Or was it only simple because of who you were asking?

"I heard you were a liar with a silver tongue."

"I assure you my lady my tongue is but muscle and blood." 

When had he gotten so close, crossing the line of what was appropriate of two single members of the opposite sex? If anyone were to join them outside or peak through a window the whole party would know within the hour. The threat to your reputation forced you to take a blind step back.

"Anything else?" He probed.

Loki was offering you an escape, had recognized a line was crossed perhaps, or maybe had just grown bored of the conversation, but you weren't bored and you weren't uncomfortable. You felt exhilarated and oddly free in this exchange. Plus, there was one more rumor the fluttering in your heart begged you to repeat and hear the truth for.

"I heard you...keep the company of men and women. Married and unmarried. I heard you-"

You hadn't realized you had taken another step back until the damp dirt below your heel set you off balance. Fighting the heat in your cheeks you accepted Loki's outstretched hand and allowed him to guide you back onto solid stone, only he did not let go of your hand once you were steady.

"I believe you have found a rumor more exciting than the truth." 

You looked at Loki then, felt his fingers hold your hand gently, thought about how he had chosen those words more carefully than any other, how he had for once deflected from answering. You needed him to answer.

"And what is the truth?"

Before your eyes Loki reverted back to staring at some far point beyond away from your gaze, the corners of his lips landing in a natural frown. It was now your turn to offer a graceful exit from this conversation. You pulled your hand gently from his. Loki's eyes met yours almost instantly, as if some part of you had to connect to him.

"The truth is, for me, whether man or woman, attraction arises from truly knowing someone and letting them know you in return."

He extended his hand to you again and without hesitation you offered your own. He bent low, meeting the back of your hand with his lips. Warmth spread through your body from the appendage, making your own lips tingle and when his eyes met yours just above your hand your breath caught in your throat.

"It was a pleasure getting to know you, my lady."

Tag list

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[saylorsnotebook]

Today I Learned: The Soda Space Race

So after finishing up my homework for the night I was watching YouTube while playing Lego Star Wars (as you do) and I came across a Food Theory episode talking about Coke Starlight-- that weird limited edition coke flavor that supposedly tasted like space but just reminded me I needed to take my cough medicine because I have a head-cold. 

Then it got to the part of the video where it brought up the time Coke and Pepsi duked it out in a race to be the first Soda to space... and I paused the video. I love astronomy and the history of how we have gotten as far as we have in the field so I thought surely this had to be made up... right? 

Upon further research a brilliantly hilarious part of history graced the rest of my night... and today I learned something new! So uhh welcome to the very watered down history of the Soda Space Race. 

Part 1: Coke and Pepsi in the 80s

I think it goes without saying that Coca-Cola is about as iconic as it gets when it comes to Soda brands. The red label with the logo feel like they’ve been a staple of American beverage preference for years. However, that wasn’t actually the case in the 80s. Don’t get me wrong Coke was still a recognizable brand, you don’t just become the face of Christmastime marketing for nothing, but their market share was dwindling due to Pepsi’s rise to the scene in the 80s and some honestly really questionable marketing choices. This brought them down from holding the majority of the market share during the WW2 era to holding less than 25% of the market share as of 1984. 

This obviously had higher-ups worried as it felt their control on the market-space was slipping so they set their eyes to the stars, literally. Upon visiting NASA the company made it their goal to, apparently, be the first soda in space. Sure, there was a nuclear cold war to worry about being the first soda in space is a high priority issue, totally. 

Thus, Coca-Cola set off to make soda history and find a way to make soda go to space. To the average reader, one might wonder why this would even be a big deal, so let’s explore why carbonation in space is... difficult. 

Part 2: Carbonation and Space

I think first to understand exactly why carbonation in space is a big deal we first need to understand why carbonation works on Earth in the first place. The long of the short of it is any fizzy beverage is likely carbonated, and the way it works is the drink makers force carbon dioxide into the liquid with insanely high pressure. 

Because carbon dioxide rises in the air this creates an upward current of pressure, hence why when you sake a soda bottle it explodes because of the pressure build up. In space however, there is little to no pressure that exists, meaning that there is nothing to separate the CO2 from the drink as the bubbles don’t have anything to really rise to. 

This creates a foamy mess that keeps expanding within the can of soda, which is already a problem but the reason why it is not drinkable is that the exact same thing would happen within our stomachs. This would mean that gassy liquid is just sitting in our stomach with nowhere to go making any human very uncomfortable but also meaning the chance of a wet burp might increase, which would be uncomfortable at a bare minimum. With how popular soda was in the 80s and even still now today is clear why Coca-Cola wanted this to be a thing that could work, it would be a MASSIVE marketing win if they managed to make it happen, and thus they began work on trying to make soda work without the bubbles creating a frothy mess. 

Part 3: Challenger

With a clear goal in mind Coca-Cola’s scientists then began work on a design that would allow astronauts to still drink soda in space. The core idea would to basically have a can that would allow for an astronaut to drink coke out of it without making a mess, and also in turn still maintaining some pressure to well, make sure it wasn’t flat. So Coca-Cola.... did something with the idea? 

This was the design, and honestly it looks a bit clunky, especially for how much money they put into it. They put about $250,000 into this thing ($667,000 accounting for inflation) they managed to get something that NASA would allow to go into space... but so did Pepsi. 

See, during this whole time they managed to catch wind of the idea and was also working on a Pepsi can that could be taken to space. And... honestly they didn’t do much better in terms of making it actually well, look like soda. 

This design is essentially just whipped cream that can dispense soda, but hey NASA also approved it so both of them shockingly enough actually went to space... to mixed results. 

Admittedly both of the apparatuses supposedly worked but the reports from the crew once they got back were less than glowing. Sure they were drinking soda but the Coke apparently tasted like metal and the Pepsi was foamy (sounds a lot like Pepsi Nitro... just bad.) In the end NASA was unimpressed with the designs and didn’t want to continue the research on it leaving Coke down $250,000 and Pepsi down reportedly by $14 million. 

It was worth it because it was a marketing stunt that totally is remembered and everyone still talks about today like the other influential moments in space exploration... right?? Right...? 

[dreaming-in-alicante]

Chapter four is up! Sorry about the longer wait, life was busy.

Also @fair-but-wilde-child here you go!

Chapter 4: Reflux

Grace paused repeatedly to drink in the sights and sounds of the Shadow Market around her as she followed Christopher around to different stalls. He got the nightshade he had wanted, as well as a variety of other ingredients.

“Mr. Lightwood!” a werewolf man called as they approached his stall. “We’ve just gotten fresh thorn-apple in.” He rummaged around in a cart and pulled out some samples, and placed them out for Christopher to inspect. The vendors all seemed to know him, and it was impressive watching him haggle for each item. Grace didn’t know if she would have the patience to argue with someone for that long, but Christopher knew exactly what he was doing.

While he negotiated a price on the thorn-apple Grace began, already, to mentally prepare herself for the ride back. With Christopher. Alone. She had felt like a fool earlier, even if Christopher remained oblivious. The realization had slowly crept up on her in the past few days that she might want to be more than friends with him.

She had become closer with both Lucie and Kamala in recent weeks. Kamala had shared her birth name with her; Grace was very honored that she wanted Grace to be one of the few people who used that name. Something had been bothering Grace, however, whenever she thought about and compared her new friendships. She realized that her relationship with both girls felt much different than that with Christopher. At first she attributed this to the fact that since they spent so much time together in the lab, she was simply closer with him than either girl. But she had spent plenty of time with both Lucie and Kamala now. Whenever she was with them, it seemed that more were always merrier, but she never felt that way with Christopher. While Grace didn’t necessarily mindHenry being in the lab (he was truly a brilliant scientist), or Thomas on his occasional visits, she greatly preferred when it was just the two of them.

The most obvious sign that something was different, however, was that she had started to notice Christopher in a way that she didn’t with either girl, or anyone else really. Earlier that week, while she watched him talk with Henry, the unexpected thought went through her head that he was really incredibly handsome. One might not notice at first, with his thick glasses and messy appearance, but now that Grace had noticed, she was constantly aware. It was starting to get ridiculous. When he had grabbed her arm excitedly earlier that morning, she told herself firmly that her heart was only racing because he had pulled her into a jog to get downstairs. Then in the carriage, by the Angel…she was grateful he thought her flushed face was from being too warm. She had never thought about how close people were when sitting in a carriage. Not that she hadn’t been close to him before, when they looked over notes together, but that was in the huge space of the lab. Enclosed in the small space of the carriage, it felt so intimate. Grace was determined to keep her composure on the return trip. She treasured her friendship with Christopher and she was terrified to ruin it by being ridiculous.

------------------------------------

When Christopher was completed with his shopping and they started back to the carriage, Grace cleverly engaged him in what promised to be a long discussion about the chemical properties of nightshade. Beyond being an interesting subject in itself, Grace expected that it would keep her mind occupied. Everything was going exactly as planned until Christopher paused to double-check his list and purchases, and Grace forced her eyes away, watching the city pass in dimly-lit nighttime. As the carriage approached the end of the block, she frowned as she noticed an odd, pulsing red glow that seemed to come from around the corner.

“Christopher, do you see that strange light?” she asked, still studying the view outside.

“Most peculiar,” he said as he also looked out. “Perhaps a colored light cover?” They finally reached the intersection, and Grace noticed that it was oddly empty. Not that many people were out at that time of night, but it was unusual to see absolutely no one. And then, as they passed through the intersection, they finally saw that the light came from a figure in the middle of the street dodging and fighting something…demons! The darting figure must be a shadowhunter.

“Anna,” Christopher said suddenly, going a bit pale. He motioned the carriage to stop and was jumping out before Grace understood what was happening. His sister, of course – her unusual red necklace that glowed when demons were around, Grace realized, hence Christopher’s urgency to go help. She hopped out of the carriage to find Christopher with a seraph blade already blazing. “I have to go help – Come help if you feel ready, but otherwise probably best to stay in the carriage!” he told her hastily, then began running down the street towards the fighting.

Grace took in the scene at the end of the street. Anna and someone else – Kamala she realized – were holding off three demons that resembled giant scorpions with wrinkled faces. Anna fought to keep two at bay, her electrum whip arcing furiously through the air, while Kamala attacked the third and largest demon. A fourth demon laid dying on the street near them. The creatures were ridiculously fast – especially their long, barbed tails which moved almost too swiftly to see. As Grace watched, Christopher reached them, seraph blades blazing, and engaged one of the demons that Anna held back.

Grace felt frozen. She had so little experience fighting, she had only been training for a few months, but she had spent too much of her life on the sidelines already. Grace resolved to get closer to offer help, but keep out of everyone’s way. She had two daggers, which seemed pitiful compared to the monsters before her, but she was an excellent shot, especially with her skills enhanced by an Accuracy rune – she would make her throws count.

She raced down the street, pulling out a dagger. As she approached the battle, she saw Kamala falter, barely knocking away the demon’s tail as it simultaneously grabbed at her with its oddly monkey-like hands. Anna and Christopher were fighting side-by-side, too far away to help. Grace reacted faster than she realized she was capable of, sending her dagger flying with perfect precision into a bulbous yellow eye. The demon hissed, writhing, as Kamala called “Good throw!” and continued to attack it.

Grace was upon the battle now and planned to hang back and wait for an opening, when from the corner of her eye she saw a fifth demon appear, looming behind Christopher. She began running in his direction and swiftly drew her second dagger as she shouted, “Kit, behind you!”.

She struck true again, halting the demon as Christopher turned. Anna lashed out her whip, catching the attention of the demon Christopher had been battling as he engaged the new foe. Grace hastily pulled her seraph blade and named it. She came up behind the demon and, with it distracted by Christopher, took a swipe. The tail moved so quickly that although she aimed for the center, her strike only cut off the very needle-like tip. The demon whirled around hissing and, to her dismay, knocked Christopher clean off his feet with its lashing tail. It bore down on Grace, snapping sharp teeth. She defended with her seraph blade but was unable to land a hit on it. She was vaguely aware that Kamala had now joined Anna, having dispatched the largest demon.

The demon Grace fought suddenly shrieked and stumbled, and she saw that Christopher had gotten back to his feet, and successfully cut off a large part of its tail. This was distraction enough for Grace to drive her seraph blade into the demon’s chest. It collapsed with a final hiss, spraying ichor from its wound, and crumbled to dust. Christopher quickly went to help fight the remaining two demons, Grace following behind. With the odds now turned four-to-two, they made quick work of the remaining demons. Soon all that remained were piles of dust and the four shadowhunters breathing hard as they recovered.

“Well,” Anna said as she coiled her whip, “a much more exciting patrol than I anticipated. It appears Kamala and I disturbed a nest of them. We are lucky that you two showed up when you did.” She leveled an assessing gaze at her brother and Grace. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but what exactly are you two doing running around together at this hour?” she asked.

“Shadow market,” Christopher answered, “I was out of nightshade, and Grace had never gone there.” He stood a bit awkwardly, and Grace wondered if he was alright.

“Well we’re very grateful for your assistance,” Kamala said, shaking dust out of her long braid. “Excellent job for your first real demon fight Grace!” she said smiling, and Grace smiled back. Anna and Christopher also offered congratulations. Grace couldn’t wait to tell Jesse – he’d be proud of her. She thought also, he’ll be jealous I killed my first demon before he did, and smirked.

“Well, let’s head to my flat, it’s not far. We should get all this ichor off,” Anna declared “and perhaps some iratzes.” Grace’s front was quite covered in ichor, and Anna and Kamala were also a mess. Somehow, ever-untidy Christopher had ended the battle with the least-soiled clothing. Anna looked appraisingly at her brother. “Are you feeling alright, Kit?” she asked, clearly noting his stiff posture like Grace had earlier.

“I believe I will need a few iratzes,” he replied, wincing, holding a hand to his side. “I likely didn’t notice earlier with all the adrenaline, but it seems the demon’s tail did catch me quite hard in the ribs.”

Grace couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. If only she had been faster, managed to cut off the tail…but no, she assured herself, she had done well. The others had all said so. She had done well with her daggers and held her own in the fight. Christopher would be fine after a few iratzes. Still, she couldn’t help aiming worried glances his way the entire carriage ride.

------------------------------------

Anna’s flat was small but cozy, the main room full of mismatched furniture. Anna got water and rags for them to clean off with, then started fussing over Christopher. Kamala, obviously familiar with the place, pulled Grace into a messy bedroom. “I think I have a spare blouse here that you can wear,” she said, “since you got most of the ichor on the front of you.” She rummaged around in the wardrobe and pulled out a pale blue blouse with a triumphant “aha!”

They cleaned themselves off and began changing. Kamala was several inches taller than Grace so the blouse was oversized on her, but it would do until she got home. She slipped out of the bedroom while Kamala finished putting on a simple dress, and reentered the main room.

Anna brushed past her, going to change, and Grace walked around to the couch…where she found Christopher wearing only his trousers and undershirt. It covered him, of course, but it was a thinner material that she could see marks through, and because the sleeves were short, she could see most of his arms. By the Angel, stop staring! she scolded herself. She had seen him in just shirtsleeves many times in the lab. She had seen more of his arms the time his sleeve caught fire in lab than right now.

“You’re alright then, Grace?” he asked. She forced her eyes to his face, and immediately discovered this was not better. He had removed his glasses, presumably while getting cleaned up, and now there was no barrier to hide his spectacular eyes. Compose yourself Grace! she chided herself.

“Yes, I’m completely fine,” she replied, settling herself on an armchair. “Nothing more than some scratches. Are you okay?” His movements were less stiff as he leaned forward a bit, but she was still concerned.

“Perfectly fine!” he answered blithely. “Anna’s iratzes are fixing me right up. Honestly, I’ve had much worse lab accidents.” Given what she’d seen just this month in the lab, Grace didn’t doubt this. She could see evidence of old burns and other scars along the whole length of his exposed arms.

“What was your worst lab accident?” she asked curiously.

“Perhaps the time I spilled an entire bottle of sulfuric acid on myself,” Christopher said thoughtfully, “although there have also been some nasty explosions.”

Kamala reentered the main room then. “Anna and I will need to head to the institute to check in and submit a report,” she told Grace, “so we can drop you at your apartment.”

“Thank you,” Grace replied. “Hopefully I’ll be back soon enough that Jesse won’t be worrying.”

“He’ll always be worrying – he’s an older sibling,” Anna said, now changed into a plain shirt and trousers. “Speaking of which,” she continued, “let me see if you need another iratze before we leave, Kit.”

Grace got up quickly – perhaps too quickly – and started over to the door to wait. She kept her gaze determinedly away from Christopher as Anna checked him over. Kamala joined Grace, a querying eyebrow raised. Grace could not help blushing, which caused Kamala to giver her a knowing smirk, making Grace blush even harder.

“I think we’ll have something to talk about at training tomorrow,” Kamala said with a grin. Grace was relieved when Anna joined them to leave. She insisted that Christopher just stay at the apartment to sleep, and he was tired enough that he agreed.

It was a surprisingly pleasant ride home. Grace had little prior interaction with Anna, but either because of Christopher, Kamala, Jesse, or a combination of the three, she did not seem to resent or distrust Grace for any of her prior actions, which was a relief. They dropped her at home and as they exchanged goodbyes, Anna commented “I expect I’ll see more of you in the future Grace,” Anna said, “as my brother’s lab partner.” She winked at Grace before hopping back into the carriage.

By the Angel, Grace thought, how does she know?Well, at least Christopher remained oblivious.

[nafeary]

Can I have some really short headcanons with MC spending time with the Ikevamp boys?

✧✎ A/N: Hiii sweets! As I’m dealing with pretty heavy topics right, both in life and writing (my cheating!mc headcanon, oh my), I decided to make this short fluffy one first. Make sure to drink water and to sleep well :))))

Also, these kept on getting longer (and longer and longer)... I dunno how that happened 🤷‍♀️

Napoleon Bonaparte

While you enjoyed accompanying the former emperor and Isaac to teach the children in town

Or going for tranquil evening strolls

Or watching him spar with Jean (HOT)

Both of your favourite past time by far was you waking him, and the cuddling that would always follow (among other... activities *wink wink*)

He’d nuzzle up against your neck, enklindling giggles from you as he protested about you wanting to help Sebastian with breakfast

You couldn’t bring yourself to care too much (sorry Sebas)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Music is the centre of his life; but so are you

He had to learn to give you the attention you deserved, and he’d often wonder if you were were truly content with sitting beside him as he played

You’d love to watch the genius in action, humming and singing along when you happen to recognize his songs

If you don’t already know, he’d teach you to play the piano and the violin

And despite being the ever strict instructor, you’d often catch his tranquil simper as his hands would ghost over your own

Leonardo Da Vinci

After all your chores would be completed, you’d hunt down the Renaissance man

Which would be quite time consuming, as he could be anywhere. Literally.

Once you succeeded in your mission, you’d sit beside wherever he decided to sleep this time (sometimes with one of your heads resting on the other’s lap) and you’d talk. As simple as that

You were, of course, aware of the scientist’s unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and you were more than glad to tell him about everything you knew about your time in detail

In return, he’d find a way to charge your phone, as you always expressed the desire to show him actual pictures of your old life

Curious boi is impressed

Arthur Conan Doyle

If his girlfriend were to be a social butterfly, you’d probably enjoy tagging along with the third wheel Theo to their regular bars, sharing embarrassing anecdotes of each other

Both of you could often be seen taking Vic for a walk, and Arthur would, no fail, try to get your attention away from the dog acting as his love rival

You could only roll your eyes at his histeronic behavior as he pulled you close, hiding his flaming cheeks at your teasing

If you tend to be more quiet loving, you’d indulge in some alone time in his room [goddammit, not that type of indulging]. As you listened to his calming puffs or air, he’d sometimes ask you to read some of his drafts

Whatever the case was, it would always end with Arthur sweetly pecking your purses lips, a smile gracing his handsome face

Vincent Van Gogh

Wanderlust is a mutual feeling you two shared, and Theodorus had to come to terms with the fact that you two could disappear for hours to end

As soon as you two would find a stunning location, he’d unpack his painting supplies while asking you questions about your old life

You two preferred to stay until the sun would retire for the moon to reign, so that the artist’s canvas had the chance to dry

Sebas would always prepare some snacks for you two upon Comte’s suggestion (because Sugar Daddy takes care of his kids)

As the picnic blanket lay beneath you two, Vincent would pull you close, basking in the serene serenity of your embrace

Thedorus Van Gogh

Baking!

Whether you know or don’t know (in which case Sebastian would gladly help you out) how to cook, the others would find the resident couple in the kitchen as Theo judged your pastries

Of course, he might be mean about it, but that was just apart of him that you’ve learnt to live with; after all, you weren’t perfect either

You discovered that he preferred his sweets... well, sweet, so you have grown used to making two batches of every dough/custard/anything, really: one for you and the other residents, and one solely for him

He’d sometimes saunter behind you, swiftly swiping some saccharine cream onto his finger from a bowl you were currently using. Before you could utter your protests, he’d paint your lips with it, a smirk parading across his cheeks

Successfully shutting you up with a tooth rottingly sweet kiss, he’d say, “Your creations are quite delicious, wouldn’t you agree, knabbletje?” [Would you look at that, Food Play!Theo has returned]

Your knee joints were seemingly replaced by the jelly chilling in the basement

Dazai Osamu

When he’d require inspiration for his novels (or simply felt trapped in his own misery), he’d find himself looking across the vast expanse of le Comte’s land

And somehow, he’d find you more than often amongst the flowers, waving at him to join you

He’d assist you as you cared for the flowers, watching your lithe and nimble hands as they practically danced across the fields

A few butterflies would appear, and he somehow had the ability to make them land on his finger as he explained each of their meanings, explanations spanning from eastern culture to Native American even

You’re always so fixed on the little butterflies resting on him, the writer can’t help himself but kiss your forehead, the subsequent crimson staining your face eliciting such a calm expression from him that you can’t help but smile at his joy

Isaac Newton

As you were both more than busy during the day, you’d vacate your time as the first stars speckled the horizon, Isaac busying himself with mapping the stars

You’d sometimes ask him to teach you, but you tended to zone out as the lectures became more and more scientific and “can you please repeat that in English”-like

Despite the ire lining his voice when he noticed your blank stare, his pouting made it rather apparent that he didn’t mind

He’d scoff whenever you’d start with astrology. “But you’re determined, just like a Capricorn.” “That doesn’t mean anything.”

As more and more stars would appear, you’d catch yourselves gaze more into each other’s eyes than the sky, alabaster rays illumining your loving eyes

His research would be entirely forgotten as your head rested upon his shoulder, liking the prospect of your figurative weight resting on him

Jean d’Arc

You want to watch him spar

Soft boi doesn’t want you to watch him spar

You want to try using his foil

Soft boi doesn’t want you to try using his foil

More than adamant about not revealing his dark side (you couldn’t care less, him sparing was hot but you didn’t know how to bring that up)

As such, you’d ask him to go shopping with you, arguing that his presence would act as the perfect protection

Foolproof way to persuade the stoic soldier: Volume I

You’d enjoy spending time with him in quiet cafes, enjoying him struggle to contain his expressions of content upon trying all the delicacies

Stone on the outside, panic in the inside when you decided to lower yourself onto his lap, telling him that no one could see you two (soldier life did not prepare him for his flirty amour)

William Shakespeare

Stabbing is his favourite past time

To Theo’s disgust, whenever you and and his broer would visit THE creep, he’d often return alone, relying your wish of staying at his mansion for a little while longer

He’d be besotted by all the stories you relayed to him, all the anecdotes of modern life

As you saw his latest works, you were glad he wasn’t using the residents for his drama anymore

He also liked dancing with you, in the moment the clock would hit midnight. As you would both sway beneath the moon’s embrace, he had never felt more at peace

Comte de Saint-Germain

Sugar Daddy likes buying you stuff, that’s it. That’s the headcanon

Jk, but he genuinely enjoys the prospect of shopping clothes with you

He’d even draft some on his own (I mean, have you seen his fashion style? Yes babayyy). If you were a fan of design, you’d both make outfits for one another

Would buy you the best silk if you wanted it... would buy you holo fabric from the future if you wanted it

After your shopping would be done, you’d walk along the Seine, reminiscing about the times none of you have gotten to life in

He enjoyed having you in his office, allowing you to vent about noble ladies that thought they could do as they please and parade around your man

As your ire left your ears fuming, he’d muse how scrumptiously adorable your jealousy it

He’d probably lift you ontop his desk to show you that you had absolutely nothing to fear— if you get what I mean ;)

...What are you talking about? I wasn’t talking about that 🙄. He’d simply show you all the designs you’ve made together smh

Sebastian

Vampires were goddamn lucky creatures. They, unlike him, didn’t have to deal with those horrid muscle cramps

However, his pain was more than familiar to you. Thus, one evening, you proposed as you prepared for bed if he’d like a massage from you

It would... sometimes lead to other acts, but that’s a story for another time 🙃

...I- that’s- I was talking about him massaging her... I should probably omit these insinuations

Now, you’d also spent time by adjusting your (and Dazai’s) favourite Japanese dishes with ingredients the 19th century France granted

This would oftentimes lead to questionable results, but you two would laugh it off with mirth enjoying your company

I am physically unable to write a Theo without foodplay, or Dazai without angsty undertones

[rosheendubh]

WIP...art-manipulation as visual inspiration for The Elegy of Dead Kingdoms...(crossover of StarWars/revamped Thrawn trilogy, FireFly/Serenity, and the Keltiad...also, spoof SpaceOpera-RockOpera featuring anyone from David Bowie, to LED Zepplin, NewOrder, U2, Ah-Ha...etc)...

~Background

~ At the impetus of River Tam, and the Operative, the Serenity’s renegade crew defies transit laws prohibiting unauthorized access to the wormhole connecting Terran space with the quadrant of the Republic Alliance and the Galactic Empire. Having only a fragmented record mentioning a lone survivor from a planetary massacre, the crew track rumors of a psionically gifted orphan said to have come from the Terran Fringe system of New Celtica, possessing the ability of manipulating the molecular structure of organic matter. An exile once in the service of Palpatine, whose skill of biokinesis Thrawn covets to stabilize the unpredictable violence of his cloned hybrids. A woman with adversaries on both sides of the wormhole, winning a Jedi to her cause, and determined to discover the key to a secret kept hidden for a thousand years. A buried legend of Old Terra, Earth That Was, that may be the last defense between the ancient darkness wakened by Thrawn‘s pursuit of absolute dominion, and the destruction of all life throughout the galaxy...(queue *cinematic drama music*)...

Somewhere between the battle of the Dark Force fleet, and Wayland, MonMontha offers a last ditch effort at negotiation with Thrawn. Imperial forces victorious in recent campaigns, have pushed back the RepublicAlliance to their InnerPlanetary systems. Rogue genetic scientists from the Terran quadrant, refusing to abandon their research after the PAX Hydrochlorate failure on Miranda, found a ready market amid trans-conduit Imperial war-profiteers, for their newest discovery. An archaic protogenome derived from dark-matter structures, endowing hybridized Reaver clones with real-time tissue regenerative capacity. These clones now render Thrawn’s army nearly indestructible. The scene above is merely my toying with a concept of the ethereal, and formidable River Tam crossing paths with the illustrious brilliance embodied in the GrandAdmiral Thrawn...

~scene~

On Coruscant, during Monmontha’s attempt at negotiating a peace, Rhyanon ferch Garowen (alluded to above) blatantly rejects Thrawn‘s coercive effort at bringing her to his side during a dinner banquet. B/c of this act of arrogance, Thrawn vows no mercy in the progression of his campaign, conquering and converting sector upon sector into a dark matter/anti-matter morass which becomes dubbed The Dimensional Rift, despite the valiant efforts of the Republic Alliance squadrons, directed by LukeSkywalker, and allies, to fend off the onslaught of Thrawn’s Dreadnaught fleet.

Before all that though, with the evening following the dinner still at hand, Thrawn abides by the Old Republic etiquette of host and guest, honoring civil diplomacy amongst enemies. A requisite social diversion-music or a dance-ensuing in the Palace reception hall holds no interest to him in Rhyanon’s absence. Preferring solitude, he meanders out to a balcony overlooking Coruscant’s expanse of lights, twinkling ladders of motion, reaching up to the lower atmosphere. And here, she follows after him minutes later, floating between shadows, a specter of innocence and dangerous beauty.

She pauses beneath a statue of some nameless goddess, a figure of Victory or Life, a pretension of lesser cultures. Weaker nations seeking hope in empty icons. The girl, young woman really, by the standards of human chronology, offers an entirely different contemplation.

From the sofa where he’s seated, viewing her from across the fountain, Thrawn appreciates the lithe symmetry of her form, a subtle disguise of strength and grace. Dangerous beauty. “You’re very like her, River Tam. A work of art, a living masterpiece,” he comments.

For as young as she is, not more than 20 years surely, she carries herself with a remarkable serenity. Stepping lightly around the other sofa, she leans her hip against the cushioned neck rest. Barely flickering an eyelid, she focuses luminous dark eyes on him, shining through the mottled patterns of light scattered between them.

Her voice resembles her figure, light and flowing. “A failed experiment, you mean, Mitth’raw’nuruodo.” Flawlessly, she speaks his name, though he knows they weren’t introduced at any point previous to this moment. ”I was supposed to be like them—the researchers were trying to make me like them. One of your chimeric hybrids.”

“Ah, the one who got away,“ he muses. Something at that stirs a flicker in her dark gaze. “Yes, little Albatross, I read the classified reports of your Core Parliament. About your brother, the escape. An elegant devising. And a lesson as to the deficiencies of private-contract security.“

Tension firms a line between her brows, hardens her expression as she glances away from him for a moment. “It wouldn’t have mattered.“

His derision comes out as a short, barking laugh. “Why? Because your escape resulted more from the incompetence of poorly trained guards than the alleged skill of your brigand crew mates?

Her attention swings back to him, conviction firm in her words. “No. Because my brother watches out for me. He protects me. And he loves me.”

Thrawn says nothing, stoic against her emotion, such a human flaw. Rubbing his thumb and middle finger together, of the hand draped eloquently off the arm-wrest, he continues sizing up this most intriguing amalgam of softness and mettle.

”Love is a weakness,” satisfaction grim in his tone, picking at a piece of this puzzle embodied by River Tam. Toying with it, testing how she’ll react. “It causes distraction from the warrior’s path. Makes them vulnerable to fear. And you, little Albatross, were foremost, molded as a weapon. A living masterpiece of perfection.”

Her lids slant, head tipped to the side slightly. “I dream about them still. The other test subjects. The Reavers. The dreams used to frighten me. They were worse when the scientists would be administering some new cocktail. They’re not as bad as they used to be, since Miranda. But their voices—I...hear them-“a frown ghosting over her features”-though I’ve learned to hush them.”

”I think you hear a lot more than that, River Tam.”

Challenge broods in a strange magnetism between them. ”So do you,” she says mildly, sending a wary shiver over his skin. How she knows about inoculating himself with the protogenome he can’t begin—

-of course he can. She’s a mind-reader, a telepath. What can’t she pick out of the whirl of thought composing humanoid psyches if she’s so determined?

His awareness smolders like embers in a breeze, open to the Shadow’s primordial sequences merged into his own cells. Enhancing perception, layers of reality peeled back when he channels this infernal heat coursing through his blood. Vision, smell, sound, his mind branching like light off a faceted diamond, reflecting images in a 1000 different plains. And Thrawn, glorying in the draught of fractured darkness.

River’s eyes glint in guarded scrutiny, attuned, perhaps to the whisper of power subsumed by Thrawn’s cultivated urbanity. Wandering over to where he’s seated, she lowers herself next to him on the couch. Her mind brushes against his like leaves floating upon a watery surface, remaining on the periphery without venturing into the depths.

“Chiis physiology-Stamina, strength, resilience against extremes of physical exposure. Superior reflexes and intellect inherent to your species, allowing adaptive advantages over the millennia. A robust psychology keeping you from succumbing to the deterioration of sensory assimilation, the way your clones eventually will. A perfect medium for channeling the Shadow.”

Thrawn wonders where she’s going with her exposition. She bears the full weight of his scorching gaze with nary a flinch. The fey-like curiosity alive across her youthful grace causes a rare unease, unused to be so unabashedly studied. He holds himself still, tensing at the light pressure of her hand taking his out of his lap, wrapping delicate fingers over a wrist corded by muscle.

”Everyone has a weakness,” she says. “Even you.”

Anger snarls beneath the surface of his poise, a broiling red froth that must have blazed up in his gaze. ”Whatever you think you see child, you take liberties of interpretation,” speaking in cold, controlled wrath before which she pales, breathing deep to collect herself. The pressure of her touch on his wrist, though, remains steady.

Her hand, slender fingers resting atop his own, no suggestion of anything other than gentleness. His own hand, larger, stronger, a grip that could crack her bones with minimal exertion. Strangle the air from her lungs, twist her fragile neck like silken twine. Tangling the rich brown waves of her hair in his grasp, forcing her head back till her spine might snap, plundering her mouth as he would plunder her body. Raze her mind till she was left a weeping pile of bruised limbs and torn clothes, cowering on the chill marble floor, her thighs bleeding like the rags of her mind.

Unperturbed, she shares every image coalesced in his thoughts. Each portrait of violence fading into the recess of darkness where the Shadow brews and twists like smoke above the infernal hells. As well, he’s viewed the record of her encounter with the Reavers after Miranda. Like Rhyanon, she would fight him with a skill capable of delaying the ultimate conquest. This wisp of a child, scarcely into womanhood, moving like sand and water, a song of death captured in every leap and twist. Every dive and slash as she wound a choreography of slaughter against an entire pack of beastial invaders. The outcome inevitably in his favor, if for no other reason than the greater strength of his sheer physicality would overwhelm, exhaust her eventually, compared to human anatomic inadequacy.

“A matter of minutes, to take you. An act of utility, really--to break you. Make you beg for a mercy that would never come.“

Her eyebrow crooks up, scolding or skepticism. “But you wouldn’t do that, any of those things.”

Her patient humoring isn’t what he anticipated. ”What makes you think so?” he asks out of mere speculation, momentarily forgetting the antagonizing subtlety guiding their conversation.

”Because you‘ve seen what I am. The weapon, not the woman. And,“ she says, sighing with an almost child-like assurance, looking out to the far horizon, “because seduction isn’t your weakness. She is.”

Damn the girl, for gut-punching through his composure with such guileless effort. His gaze follows hers, tracking the aerial traffic dotting Coruscant’s night skies in a flickering menagerie. He concentrates on keeping his breathing even, stilling his mind, as he considers his reply. The silhouettes of soaring towers outlined by shimmering lights blot out the sky, the glow which would normally be visible on a less metropolitan planet, of satellites in orbit, and stars far beyond.

”One word,” he says finally. “She could have changed the tide of this war for the Republic with one word.“

She turns, a searching intensity in her deep gaze. Seeing too much within him. “So could you, change the tide of this war for Republic,” she says softly, giving a gentle squeeze of his wrist.

Impatient and irritated with the poignancy in her tone, Thrawn shakes her hand off. “She has no idea, the fate to which she’s condemned the galaxy,” he tells her with a hard look, rising off the sofa. He looms over her, eyes burning across her face, so that for the first time, she shudders away from the brewing wrath. He marvels again, the steel disguised beneath the seeming delicacy of her body. Her sandeled feet tucked beneath her on the sofa, the fabric of her dress, simple design of polyfiber cotton, drapes fine curves of breast, hip, and thigh.

Despite her attention fastened upon the night horizon, nothing of intimidation colors her posture, but sadness tinges the turned-down line of her lips. He bows his head to her before heading back to the reception hall lying through a corridor adjoined to the balcony. A salute, a parting to conceal his remorse of the lost fate she chooses with her friends and allies.

“And you, little Albatross,“ he rasps in dire promise, the epithet snaring her surprised glance up at him. “You have no idea what’s coming. None of you do.”

A wasted masterpiece of living art, dangerous beauty.

—

Watching him stride away into the dim hall, the Grand Admiral’s disappointment aches like an overstrained joint. Bothersome, but eventually fading unless exacerbated. In his absence, the darkness hovers about her, the balcony esconsed, now, in transient quiet. Illusory peace.

Alive, so alive, the hum of myriad thoughts, voices, hopes, griefs—the gambit composing sentient life throughout the city. The planet. Her mind-reading truly can’t extend with any precision beyond the palace, but a general hum always persists in the background of her consciousness. The sound of living beings. A vibration silenced forever upon Miranda.

That silence had almost broken her sanity more than any experimentation. As scientists sought to harness innate hyper-sensory perception with neurochemical alterations, subjecting her to an intensive programming, molding her mind-body duplex into prime mental and physical conditioning. In the process, she was often torn, battered, abused, and tortured, her mind confused, shifting between lucidity and dissociation and nightmare. But never breaking.

The sound of death, of nothing. Emptiness like a vacuum, no thought, or feeling. Miranda had almost broken her. Miranda, it turned out, opened the road to a recovery of herself. What she is, what she’s meant to be? No one seems to know. At least not since Simon rescued her from the illicit lab which had been her prison. Hyper-awareness, sensory adepts, psychic traits expressed amongst humans were hardly uncommon through the Terran quadrant, both Core and Fringe systems. Posited by some scientists as a natural development of sentient consciousness, induced by interstellar travel over the centuries.

Among these foreign systems across the wormhole, peoples attributed such gifts to some metaphysical energy field. The Force. Light and Dark. The association, to River’s thinking, paradoxical for a property endemic to all beings, carrying no inherent morality until determined by the intent of the wielder. Perhaps she just didn’t quite grasp its intricacies as yet, conceding that nuances of intuition, emotion, passive reception, meditation still often eluded her. The Force embedded such concepts, rather than the more actualized focus of psychic traits held by the majority of systems native to the Terran quadrant.

What she is. What she‘s meant to be—*a weapon, a work of art*. *No*, she answers her own query, the feeling of defiance liberating. *A failed experiment. The one who got away.*

”And you forget,“ she whispers to the attentive night. “I can still hear them in my head. All the time. Just like you do, Mitt’raw’nuruodo.”

Miranda is not what Thrawn has in mind, that sort of emptiness. He wants something more. Under Imperium’s auspices, subjugating and assimilating one star system after another, spreading this corruption of time and reality, bleeding the Dark Entity’s ravenous, primordial substance like an oil-slick settling into the sinkholes of what had been viable Star-systems. Seeding these tortured hybrids cloned of Reavers, and whatever other mutated derangements of horror will fuse and divide in an incubator. With his enhanced soldiers, their minds a racket of incessant savagery, submission to Thrawn throughout the galaxy seems inevitable. Especially now that Intel, and Republic specialists working with Rhyanon, recently confirmed the adaptive capacity of certain hybrids to infect other living creatures with their intracellular genetic material.

They’ll never be completely hushed, even in the deepest caverns of her own mind. Reavers. The chimeric hybrids. They howl, writhe, snarl, and scream in agony beyond their comprehension. But the havoc of their consciouses, keeping the hybrids contained as a utilizable resource requires increasing concentrations of sedatives, hyponotics, and psychogenic pharmaceuticals.

She can feel their echo within Thrawn, too. Not of the violence, but his craving the Shadow’s power. It’s why he covets Rhyanon-her abilities of biologic manipulation, transforming the very backbone molecules of life. Healing, rejuvenating, reconstructing, restoring from disease, infection, deterioration and decay. Thirsting for the surcease she could provide, balancing the Dark Entity’s immersion of his own constitution. A living masterpiece, the kind of gifted elegance Thrawn desired, Rhyanon, like River, was another one who’d gotten away. Another failed experiment. Another dangerous beauty.

Rhyanon loathes him. Holding her captive on his flagship under the influence of cortical inhibitors, and hallucinogens. Trying to force her into stabilizing the synaptic connections of higher brain function in his hybrids. Dampening their insanity as the cloned offspring reached maturity. Coercing her in other ways as well, while she resisted the influence of intoxicants deluging her system. That was why she rejected his play at truce earlier during the dinner, an offer to join him voluntarily. That. And the fact she and the Jedi were patently lovers. A circumstance exacerbating the already furious enmity between the Grand Admiral and Luke.

Rhyanon would use those same graces of biokinesis to tear him apart one atom at a time, despite the danger of inducing her own body’s destruction. The price of biopsionic talents, a check limiting the potential for abuse of that power over life and death. Unfortunate, in that Rhyanon’s ability, synergized with the particular strengths shared between their small group of Force-wielders and sensory adepts, offers the only potential counter against Thrawn’s growing influence.

Finding some way of battling this Dark Matter entity. This Abaddon, commanding elemental forces dating from the universe’s origins. A being capable of destroying multiple star-systems if they resist its Seeding. They’d all seen what happened on Namsonis 4 in the aftermath of losing the majority of Dreadnaughts. A desperate evacuation. A world wrenched apart like a ball of mud crushed in a fist. A solar system facing a monstrous dehiscence of time and space, heart of chaos, blowing a hole through the core of a sun, and incinerating the other 6 planets spared Namsonis’s fate. Hours later, a festering wound across the void of black, rocky debris and ionized gas discharges the last traces of a star system no longer existing between tomorrows.

Contrary to the stillness in which she sits, River’s thoughts spin countless strands in the spreading web of her mind, her fingers running absently along the ridge of her collarbone. Picturing simultaneous star-maps, envisioning parallel scenarios of navigation vectors, battle engagements, the stratified calculations worked in trans-dimensional matrices. Always hearing the Reavers seething in the recess of her soul.

Finally, arriving at some conclusion, she reveals to the passing night, ”I do know exactly what’s to come.” And maybe, maybe there’s a chance. One distant, improbable-verging on impossible-chance they have of subverting this menace before it reaches the Terran quadrant.

[killypool]

open to anyone ( closed to sheveil's vanessa ) shipping: open to anyone age: 25 - 47+

it wasn’t actually very difficult for wade to figure out that vanessa was a synth. when they spoke about their childhoods, their pasts, she always seemed to have such strong, clear memories of specific events. but there are times he would ask her about general experiences, and she couldn’t seem to think of anything. he was familiar with blackouts in his own memory thanks to ptsd, but it was different. all it took was a conversation with nick valentine, and wade figured it out. he wanted to wait to sit her down and tell her what he thought was possible, but there never seemed to be a good time. besides, what difference really would it make?

wade sought out enlistment in the brotherhood of steel shortly after his mom passed. he knew on his own he would have no chance at survival, and he didn’t have trust in the settlements around him to open their arms and give him a chance. the brotherhood meant rations, a place to sleep, people to call brothers and sisters. his loyalty and service felt like nothing in exchange for that peace of mind.

wade could recite the brotherhood ideals like his own name, but they never really mattered to him. super mutants and feral ghouls and institute synths were evil and needed to be destroyed, but his own father was the cruelest man he ever knew, and his father was all human. wade saw raiders and feral ghouls and super mutants alike - anyone who was a threat to settlements and to his brothers and sisters were equal opportunity targets.

wade actually left for the brotherhood and left for boston years before the events of fallout 4. mercenary work led him to goodneighbor, and something as good as the grace of god led him to vanessa. finding out the brotherhood was in town after becoming a ghoul was a sick twist of fate.

wade will not attack the brotherhood on sight. he still has respect for the men and women in their ranks even if he knew they would shoot him on sight. wade is sympathetic towards the minutemen and the railroad. especially after being sure of vanessa’s identity, wade sought to befriend deacon in the event he needed vanessa to be safe. wade and deacon are fairly close, and wade asked deacon to keep eyes on vanessa in his absence - before he ever left to be experimented upon. hancock was also aware of wade’s plan to leave and wade gave hancock nearly all of his collection of caps for her safety (something hardly necessary as hancock was already fond of her.)

wade does not believe the institute is evil. he believes the institute is overwhelmingly naive to the world they’re safe from, and wants more than anything to drag institute scientists and civilians into the wasteland so few manage to survive in. despite this, he would never go against anyone’s plans to destroy the institute and would gladly join in if given the opportunity.

growing up in the wasteland makes wade extremely claustrophobic when underground and in vaults. heights and open areas don’t bother him, though he prefers never going underwater - even now that he’s immune to the radiation and able to go without air long enough to swim under. memories of his father shoving him in the freezing cold lakes to build up his strength and being left alone in locked rooms with his mom have ingrained those fears into him.

before he left vanessa in an attempt to cure himself of the sickness no stimpak or chem was able to heal, wade went to the memory den to relive every milestone with vanessa to remind himself of why he was doing this. he refused to leave vanessa alone in this world. she deserved someone by her side - someone strong and ready to protect her from every evil of the commonwealth.

the program that turned wade into a ghoul was related to the chem that hancock took to turn into a ghoul himself. one of the scientists in the program snuck the experimental chem out to line his own pockets. wade and hancock will eventually discuss this and bond over this if wade is brought back to goodneighbor thanks to the player character’s actions.

wade should have no reason to be afraid of returning to vanessa - they lived in one of the heaviest ghoul-centered populations in the commonwealth. but insecurity and fear and shame was a bitch. speech checks must be passed to reunite wade and vanessa, but any speech check relating to returning to vanessa is green - very little is required to change his mind and send him running back to the love of his life.

if in the same settlement as other companions, wade will typically keep to himself. the only person he initiates conversations with is hancock, though he’ll respond if anyone else speaks to him. the only companion wade will not interact with is x6-88 and is the only one wade will make hateful or rude comments towards upon dismissal.

[mars-janka]

Bluebirds

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Ship: Revalink (Revali x Link)

Word count: 4684

A/N: This piece is a work for the Revalink Valentine’s Exchange 2021 @revalinkexchange! Happy Valentine’s Day to my dear giftee @spacesephora! Thank you for providing the prompt and inspiring me; I do wish you enjoy reading my take on it!

Read on AO3

Vah Medoh was lonely.

Before the Calamity, Revali never really understood how the mechanical beast thrown under his wing worked. He was told countless times that it held a soul, but then again, he questioned himself when he was alone almost as many times as he’s heard of it, how could a stone machine be ever capable of having one? And yet despite those doubts it was one of the few things he kept to himself and never dared to speak up about it; it wasn’t like he possessed any more knowledge about ancient Sheikah technology than Purah, Robbie or even princess Zelda.

With those thoughts repressed deep inside him, Revali continued to listen to more of the scientist’s advice and theories and utilizing them later when within the divine beast. He had never once felt a presence surrounding him, making him doubt all the efforts he made to “connect” with Medoh, but nevertheless never stopped trying. It was surprising when he heard of Daruk having problems with taming Rudania. It made Revali almost paranoid, now looking over his shoulder at the slightest sound and faint feeling of something sneaking up his spine. Yet despite that, a part of him still seemed to be wary of the idea of Medoh being alive.

It changed when his own life came to a tragic end.

He no longer had any doubts. He no longer had any body, he turned into merely a presence, one that he once didn’t believe to be real. As the consciousness left his mortal, limp body, Revali felt his soul intertwine with another one, one that could only be Medoh. They became one and the same, a wicked, infested part of her threatening to infuse his mind.

He despised it; he spent his first months silent, lost in thought not bothering to speak to Medoh despite her malicious cries. Their roles switched, now he was a beast that needed taming. He isolated himself, wallowing over his lost life, cursing Hylia and pitying Hyrule’s fate all in the one of many corners of the divine beast. After a few years, his mindset changed, however. Revali realized that his soul was bound to Medoh’s forever, whether pure or cruel, and there was nothing he could do about it; he could not escape, he could not defeat her nor could he take his own life as he was already dead.

With a heavy heart he submitted to his fate and day by day, night by night the pain started to lessen.

He let himself let out everything; his fears, burdens, memories, passions. Even if Medoh was swallowed by a dark force, he still felt as if an old part of her was still there, understanding him and his emotions, something he hadn’t been graced by in a very long time. At times, he wondered if that was meant to be from the beginning; two lonely souls finding each other. Revali smiled feeling her presence, he felt content with that.

That was until Link came back from the dead.

The sheer sight of him made Revali feel a strange sensation inside of him. Watching him was strange. He had not changed, not one bit, his youthful features apparent with movements mirroring those which Revali remembered from a century ago. Despite that something felt off. He brushed it off, too interested (and too excited) in observing Link’s struggles with overcoming the difficulties he was faced with to care.

What he couldn’t ignore however was the feeling that loomed over him after he and Link had parted. The loneliness that Revali hid deep inside himself was threatening to tear trough again, its power strengthened. Medoh’s company wasn’t enough, he realized with pain. He became quieter than he was in the beginning, not daring to let his thoughts slip. Hiding from Medoh wasn’t as difficult as it used to be with his newly acquired body (he was still but a mere spirit, yet it was still much more than he could’ve ever imagined). What was, though, was hurting her.

It felt terrible yet he couldn’t make himself open up to her, straying away as far as he could. He remained distant and cold ignoring her cries, longing to see the world once again, if only for a second.

Revali was absorbed in his thoughts, looking out at Rito Village through the humongous round windows when it happened. Out of the blue, he felt some divine being wrap him in their hands and suddenly he found himself in a place, beside somebody that he expected the least to see.

It was raining terribly, and Link looked almost as shocked as he did, clinging tightly to his cloth paraglider as Revali’s spirit circled around him, wings spreading in a graceful manner, summoning an updraft that lifted them both up in only a matter of seconds. It was as if the same force as before was controlling all his movements. Revali was overwhelmed by what was happening around him, by what was happening to him. He could feel everything; the wind grazing his feathers, the rain coating them, the almost suffocating air that he breathed, the lingering smell of the ocean. It all seemed too good to be true. And for the first time in a hundred years, he felt alive, no matter how ironic that was, considering he was still very much everything but that.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Link’s, raw emotions shining through them (as though the knight could feel). He wasn’t sure if it was the force that made it impossible or if there really was something truly captivating, mesmerizing about them. He couldn’t give it another thought, however, as he felt that same bizarre, divine hands take him into their care. Panicking, he opened his beak to shout. Before any words had a change to form, his vision became blurry and in a blink of an eye he was once again reunited with the cold, indifferent interior of his divine beast.

“No!” he cried as the words found a way to escape, his wing instinctively reaching forward to grab what was left of this beautiful dream he had, only to be met with hard glass preventing him from falling down, in a moment where he wanted to fall the most, feel the wind graze his feathers once more. “No…” he said again with head pressing painfully against the window as he gradually slid down to his knees. His gaze locked at the very sight he was looking at before, his home, Rito Village. Revali felt a lump form in his throat, choking a sob. “Please,” he said, pleading to whoever who listened, voice shaking. “Please, let me out of here.”

His wish couldn’t be fulfilled, not if he was not called for by this divine force.

Which wasn’t something he expected to happen as weeks flew by. What did, however, happen was that he was left completely alone as Medoh wouldn’t be bothered by his behavior anymore. Revali couldn’t hear her cries and thoughts; she shut him off just like he wanted and yet he still found himself missing them. He would never admit that of course, whatever was left of his pride making him bottle it up inside, quietly hoping that one day the silence would break.

And finally, that day came. It was unexpected and sudden and… peculiar. The presence that Revali felt, and assumed to be Medoh, was very much unlike anything he remembered. Something about it was off, as if it couldn’t possibly be her but then again perhaps, she has changed and in doing so did the feeling of her presence as it had been a while since she has too isolated herself. Revali though was too distracted by the sheer joy that he felt in this very moment, calling Medoh’s name in his thoughts, hoping that she’d hear him and rushing through the insides of the divine beast searching for the place where he’d sense her the most.

“I’m sorry,” the thoughts echoed in his mind, as he couldn’t bear to speak, knowing that Medoh preferred them to hearing his voice. “I’m sorry I was so selfish, Medoh please forgive me.” They were running almost as fast as he was. “Give me a sign that you’re there!”

Revali was slowly but surely getting tired of participating in this cat and mouse styled game. Just as he was about to call out her name with his voice, he had felt her presence right next to him. Abruptly, he turned his head to face her and it wasn’t Medoh, oh no. For the third time in the past few months, he saw none other than Link.

He wasn’t sure whether to feel surprised, disappointed, annoyed or relieved even. He simply sighed and let his shoulders slouch back. “What are you doing here, knight?” he asked, voice harsh. “Don’t you have a world to save?” Revali was staring right into Link’s eyes intensely, nearly burning holes in them. For a short while, everything else disappeared, the world was shut out. It was only him and Link, looking, trying to solve the hidden meanings behind their mannerisms, expressions, eyes. Revali didn’t mind the sensation that it gave him, he longed for anything that helped him get his mind off his terrible afterlife.

Suddenly the wind howled, breaking the tense silence surrounding them. The sound reminded Revali of Medoh. He grunted and looked away a bit embarrassed. “A hundred years and you still hadn’t got back your tongue,” he said regaining his stance.

He was ready to dismiss the whole situation and go back to Medoh to try and search for comfort, but much to his surprise, he heard a voice, making his plan temporarily impossible. “I-,” It came out as a rasp. Revali’s eyes widened as he realized that this voice belongs to Link. “I thought that you could use some company.”

“You what?” he choked, not believing what he just heard. The feathers on his body ruffled uncontrollably, standing up from every side. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the raspy, probably from unuse, serious tone, because of the message that the words passed, or perhaps the combination of both. The fact that he was trying his hardest to hide it, getting annoyed in the process wasn’t of any help. “What made you think so?”

For an unknown reason, some part of him expected Link to shrug and laugh in his face, saying that it was but a mere joke and yet none of that happened. He stood there, seemingly tall and proud of what he said. This time it was Revali that felt the gaze staring right into the inside of his soul. He on the other hand couldn’t bring himself to look at the knight’s face. “I know you’re lonely,” Link said, his voice now softer.

Revali let out a short awkward laugh. “I don’t know what-,” he tried to argue but was quickly (and efficiently) cut off.

“Don’t try to deny that,” his serious tone came back and Revali couldn’t help but to look at him. His gaze was as stern as his posture, both hands by his sides, curled up in fists. “I’ve seen it in your eyes, it’s written all over your face,” he started with passion, confident with his words spread only the truth. “The first time we met, when I… I don’t even know saw your… spirit?” he stumbled, probably too many thoughts flooding his little head yet still remained as passionate. “A-And now, too,” he added quickly. “You can’t hide it.”

Revali stood before him, stunned. His beak was opened slightly before it formed into a frown. “Unbelievable,” he scoffed, and more feathers ruffled on his back. “You,” he angrily pointed one finger at Link. “Have a lot of nerve coming here,” he was gesticulating wildly. “To my home, out of the blue, completely uninvited and tell me about my personal problems whilst not having resolved your own!” he huffed and took a deep breath. “Completely ridiculous.”

Link took every word that he spit at him with patience. He had closed his eyes and didn’t bother to respond. This angered Revali more, but he had no more energy to waste. “Oh, so now you won’t answer?” he waited a little while longer before realizing that it’s in vain. He turned on his foot, ready to hide in the shadows of Vah Medoh. “Classic.”

“I need your company!”

Revali stopped walking. This sentence alone sparked his interest enough to stay and listen to what Link had to say. The Hylian seemed to get the cue. “I-I am lonely too,” his voice was much quieter than only seconds ago; it was obvious that he hadn’t planned to bring this subject up and yet he still kept going. “You don’t owe me anything but,” Link sighed deeply, preparing for whatever he was about to say. “You’re the only one who understands what it’s like to truly be alone, what it’s like to be the one left behind.”

Revali could feel Link looking at him expectantly. “You’re wrong,” he heard Link take a breath. “Not that I expected anything else, but…” he turned to face him and yet didn’t look at his face, focusing on everything but him. “I am not lonely,” he stated, putting the most pressure on the third word. “And I do owe you something. My soul. And for that I-,” Revali’s eyes caught Link’s and only now he noticed the brilliant blush on his cheeks that he’s not seen before. It distracted him but he quickly shook out of it and he chose to ignore it, grunting and glancing away. “I suppose I can give the company that you crave so much.”

And ever since then, he had kept his word, as every time Link visited him, he’d embrace him with open arms. Revali had become reliant on his visits, firstly only craving any form on intimacy since Medoh was no longer an option. At times he’d even compare the divine beast to a desert since it was so desolate, empty and vacant only until Link showed up, momentarily replacing the feeling of being alone with joy upon meeting another person. Link was Revali’s escape, nothing more.

“I plan to battle with Ganon in a short time.”

Or so he had thought a while ago.

Somehow that sentence that was whispered to him made him fear more than ever. A cold shiver ran down Revali’s spine as his fingers curled up in Link’s hair stopped their movements. He felt the blonde shift on his lap, later a hand touching his face. “Is something wrong?” Link had asked, his voice concerned and soft.

Revali didn’t look at him. His heart screamed yes and yet he said “No, everything’s fine.” To assure Link, or himself really, he continued stroking his hair. He felt his heart leap, sink, do cartwheels and everything in between. He was far from being okay. He swallowed audibly. “Just… try your best to dodge his attacks.”

Link laughed and turned to face him as Revali with a smirk on his face playfully ruffled his hair. “All this time,” he said dramatically. “And you’re still doubting my abilities?”

“Never hurts to be simply remind.”

They parted soon after. They didn’t say goodbye, never did. It seemed all too serious, and all too sad. A simple wave would cut it as Link each time left Medoh in the beautiful colors of dawn. Watching him was serene, calming even despite his heart aching, begging him not to leave and the knowledge that he was about to fight the worst of nightmares, one that was a brink away from consuming the world. As Link disappeared completely from Revali’s line of sight, he took a deep breath and murmured, “I really hope you get back.” With that, he turned to hide in Medoh.

The next thing he remembered was that, for the first time in a hundred years, he woke up. His body was terribly aching, muscles sore as if all he had been doing those years were murderous exercises. He opened his eyes with a groan; though he quickly closed them when the light of the morning sun started to burn them. He couldn’t as much stand up, he couldn’t move his wings nor his legs; it was as if he was pinned to the ground, groaning from pain. It was Link who had found him, a couple days after. The knight panicked but immediately went back to the village to get help. The Rito were more than confused when they saw Revali, but they agreed to help, not knowing that the very man that they’re nursing back to health is their beloved Champion from a century prior.

The recovery was taking months and Revali slowly but surely was getting better. “I remember being alive differently than this,” he said later followed by a cough. Link smiled and leaned back in his chair looking out at the sunset. He was trying his best to visit Revali at all times, but it was not always the easiest now with princess Zelda needing his help with rebuilding the ruined kingdom.

“I’m pretty sure that the others feel the same way you do,” Link said lightheartedly to which Revali scoffed. He wasn’t the only one who was resurrected. Mipha, Urbosa and Daruk have been all reported to be very much alive as well. He had yet to see them though, but with his (and others) current, bleak state it was simply impossible. “When you’re all be looking…” Link trailed off into thought, trying to find the perfect word as Revali was glancing at him, awaiting. “…a bit better!” he finished enthusiastically. “I will invite you to visit my house in Hateno Village.”

“Now, that’s an idea,” Revali said, both intrigued and prejudiced. He thought out loud. “I wonder if the six of us will fit.”

“I’m sure we’ll manage.” And when the time came, though not without struggle, they really did. Beds, hammocks, sleeping bags and everything in between were now littering the entirety of the house’s first floor. There were also some baggage laying around, since when the guest where to put things, Link simply shrugged with a smile saying, “Throw it wherever.” From the décor Revali thought that it was clear that the knight never really got to spend much time just to sit and think, and if he did it certainly wasn’t the place.

“Sorry for the emptiness,” said shyly princess Zelda even though nobody seemed to mind (how could they when they spent the past century living in a mechanical beast?). “I’ve been trying to get more furniture but it’s hard these days.” She has been temporarily living with Link ever since the defeat of Ganon, so she must’ve felt at least partially responsible for the guests too, Revali figured.

Being in one room with so many people felt… to say the least strange. Everyone, though trying not to show, has changed in some way but that was certainly to be expected. What stayed the same however was their unique, unbreakable bond. It was clear that each and every one of them was grateful for the way the things turned out.

Silence lingered between the six, until Link decided to speak up, scratching the back of his head. “So…” he started, now getting everyone’s attention. “Does anyone fancy a quick spiced meat and mushroom skewer?” No one (with the exception of Daruk who was granted a prime rock roast) could turn down such an offer. The Champions and Zelda were very much aware of Link’s magnificent cooking skills that could turn a simple dish like this to a culinary masterpiece as when they were all recovering, he never failed to spoil them with their favorite foods.

“You’re too good to us, Link,” said Urbosa as she finished another one of the skewers. Everyone either laughed or nodded in approval. It was slowly getting darker and they sat peacefully, warmed by a fire right in front of Link’s house. The atmosphere got more relaxed with enthusiastic conversations and jokes replaced by a comfortable silence, sometimes interrupted by a yawn. The Champions started leaving the fire one by one, muttering a ‘goodnight’ in order to go to sleep.

Revali answered lazily every single one of the goodnight’s whilst being completely invested in watching the fire burn. He was very much sure that he was the only one left until he felt a warm body quickly sit right next to him. Not expecting that he was startled very much to which Link laughed. “You want to put a man who came back from the dead back to his place?”

“Not in a million years,” Link replied a sly smile playing on his lips. Revali sighed and moved a to the side slightly, giving him space to settle. He then fidgeted for quite a bit before finding the perfect spot. Revali couldn’t be bothered anymore however as he still stared into the calming flames. Link decided to join him. “Don’t you want to sleep?” he asked, nuzzling faintly into his feathers.

“Not really, no,” it took a second for him to respond. He wrapped his wing around the smaller frame of Link, something that made the knight very happy.

Link hummed happily, putting his head on Revali’s chest. “May I make a suggestion?” As an answer, Revali put his beak at the top of his head. Link stuttered at first, clearly nervous with what he was about to say. “I was-,” he took a deep breath and stopped for a moment as if to formulate the words. “There’s this, um, place that I-I’d like to show you.”

Revali quirked his brows. “Well, go on, I’m listening.”

“The thing is,” Link shifted away from him and started gesticulating. “It’s not that far away, really, but it’s far enough that we’d have to fly there and-,” he couldn’t go on as he got caught off.

“Wait, wait,” Revali took Link’s hands into his and the blonde looked at him curiously. “Did you say… fly?” Link, stunned, only nodded in response. Revali could see that he was trying his best to figure out what was wrong with flying, as to visit him in Hateno, the Champion flew straight from Rito Village. “You’re aware that the Rito have terribly bad eyesight in the dark, right?” Link’s eyes widened and Revali couldn’t help but smile at his cluelessness. “Oh my, who would’ve thought that the mighty knight needed some school time.”

Link blushed and turned away, but soon his laugh joined Revali’s. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “In that case, we can just go some other-”

“No!” Revali burst out suddenly. Realizing this, he grunted and thought of a way to explain this. “I mean- um, a little bit of adrenaline is always much appreciated in life, especially after only getting it back, right?”

Link looked at him, puzzled and skeptical. “…Right,” with the newly acquired knowledge, he wasn’t quite sure that the situation he was putting himself in was exactly safe but decided not to argue against it. “It’s only fair to fulfill a dying man’s last wish,” he said playfully to which Revali smacked his head from the back.

“I wonder who the dying man could be…” Before Link could reply with a snarkier remark, Revali got up and motioned for him to get on his back. “Come on, knight, I have a million things do to.” With that Link quickly complied and in no time Revali summoned his famous gale as they set off with the hero shouting Revali the directions and being his overall guide for the next hour or so.

It must’ve been truly tiring since the first thing Link did when they landed on the soft sandy shore of Lurelin Village was lie down, burying his face in the sand. Revali, being much less unacquainted with its texture, took time to adapt and stretch his wings after the flight. One of the first things that he noticed was that “It’s hot.”

Link lifted his face up from the sand, half of it staying on his skin. “It’s great now,” he said as he tried to get rid of the sticky sand. “It’s much worse during the day, trust me on this one.”

Revali however didn’t manage to catch the last words that Link spoken, as he had noticed something much more interesting than his voice or the temperature. His breath caught in his chest as he spoke. “It’s beautiful,” he said, completely absorbed in thought. Link, not understanding what he was on about turned his head to face him. The expression on his face was unlike whatever he’s seen before, gaze stern and focused on what was before him and Link couldn’t help but follow his gaze. The calming sound of the waves crashing against each other filled his ears as he stood up and moved to stand next to Revali.

“It really is,” admitted Link, his fingers reaching to brush against Revali’s. Despite being completely mesmerized by the sheer sight of the ocean, he reciprocated the touch. “It actually reminds me of you…”

“How come?” Revali’s eyes never left the water, whilst Link’s trailed to look at his face.

He swallowed audibly. “W-Well,” he started and Revali turned his head to face him to which in response Link panicked, shying away. “It’s really n-not that far away from where I first used your gale,” he could feel his eyes watching him intently. “The color helps too,” he quickly added and Revali chuckled.

A comfortable silence fell between the two, their hands still touching as they both went back to watching the ocean unfold before their very eyes. Revali had never felt this calm before, not even Medoh could bring him such peace, though their souls were once one and the same. But Link and Medoh were not the same. What he felt for him was different, strong and… real. And he’s come to accept it. His mind was a hurricane filled with various thoughts in that moment and yet the sudden sound of Link’s voice didn’t fail to stop them. “It’s actually my favorite place to be,” he said squeezing his hand. “I stumbled here after seeing you to process it and… it has become a habit of mine.” Revali could tell he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, and suddenly his own started to ache. “It’s become a place I visit just to… think and feel less… alone.”

Revali felt as if he was frozen even though he could tell that Link was expecting some sort of response. And yet he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. It was only when he felt his grip loosening and breathing quicken that he managed to as much hold his hand tighter. He could feel Link first tense, then relax; perhaps it was enough for him. But certainly not for Revali.

He turned to face him and cupped his face. “Link I-,” Revali started but his wide, blue eyes, looking at him as if he was the most important thing in this world, made him lower his gaze for a moment. He swallowed audibly and looked at him again, this time truly confident.

“I love you.”

The words hanged in the air and for a brink of a moment Revali’s whole life flashed before his eyes as he regretted saying those words, knowing that it would never be possible for someone like Link to love him. He panicked and wanted to run away but before he could as much as turn, Link’s voice echoed in his mind.

“I love you too,” he admitted with tears in his eyes and suddenly Revali noticed his own water. Link couldn’t take it anymore as he buried his face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Revali instinctively wrapped his wings around him, pulling him closer and letting his own tears fall.

It really was beautiful; two lonely people finding happiness in each other as the sun rose behind them.

Another A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you have the best of days!

[ineloqueent]

hi tina 💞 not sure how easy this is, since my astrophysics knowledge is nearing -273 *C, but you could do mutuals as astronomical sights? comets, planets, galaxies etc... sorry if not!! 💖✨

anna! and anon! you’ve given me a wonderful chance to ramble about space. you may come to regret it, however...

if i’ve forgotten you, please do not take it personally! i didn’t mean to. my mind is just but a glorified puddle :)

@archaicmusings — vega

vega is the brightest star in the constellation lyra, and happens to be my favourite star. don’t ask me why vega is my favourite star, or why lyra is my favourite constellation, because i haven’t got a coherent answer for you. i’ve just always been drawn to them. a bit like cal, really. i feel like we’ve known each other for far longer than just four months, and she’s so lovely that i’m fairly sure i could say anything to her and she’d just accept me for whatever rubbish i’m rambling about this time. and, in the depressing year that’s been 2020, cal has been a bright star.

@drivenbybri — halley’s comet

honestly, is there anything more iconic than halley’s comet? there can’t be much. probably the best known comet of all time, halley’s comet is a short-period comet (and if you’ve read starstruck, you know how much i prefer short-period comets to those long-period comets with their damned 200-year perihelions, even if certain people suggest that this makes them quite special), meaning that it is visible from earth every 75-ish years. halley’s comet last made an appearance in the lovely year of 1986, and will thus appear next in 2061 (i’m so excited for my 59-year-old self!!!). halley’s comet, though well-known, is still a rare breed, so to speak. it is rare, and extraordinarily beautiful that a comet appears to a human twice within their lifetime. sofie is rare, just like halley’s comet, and equally beautiful, both in heart and with that lovely curly hair of hers. i’m honoured to know her, just as i shall be honoured to see halley’s comet one day.

@brianmays-hair — cassiopeia a

cassiopeia a (or rather, the remnant of cassiopeia a) was a supernova within the constellation of cassiopeia. for those of you who do not obsess over interstellar matter the way that i do, supernovae are explosions of massive stars, or white dwarfs drawn to nuclear fusion, within their final stages of life. not much is known about how these explosions necessarily take place, and nasa has only caught on video one such explosion, back in 2016. the most commonly presented image of the remnant of cassiopeia a is a false-colour image, composed with three different wavebands of light. it is, as you can see, very beautiful. supernovae radiate energy and light throughout the cosmos during their existence, and thus having a great effect on the space surrounding them. i therefore liken jess to cassiopeia a because she has a brilliant personality, vibrant and inspiring, which comes across especially in her writing. but of course, the beauty of cassiopeia a has nothing on her.

@deacyblues — sirius

as far as we humans and the scientists among us know, sirius is the brightest star in the observable universe. housed within the constellation of canis major, sirius has always been monumentally important in terms of navigation, since ancient times. i tell pearl this all the time, but truly, i mean it; her outlook on life is inspiring, how she never fails to be positive even in times of great trouble. like sirius, pearl is a light, ever-present within the mindset of living for today, ever-determined, and unfailingly kind.

@joemazzmatazz — black hole

please let me explain before this gets taken the wrong way: I LOVE BLACK HOLES. i specifically want to study black holes, whenever i get the chance to specialise within astrophysics. they fascinate me to no end, with a kind of allure that only the mysterious can hold. furthermore, black holes may be the key to understanding the universe; if we understand black holes, we will be able to make headway on other matter, such as dark matter, and dark energy, the latter of which makes up the majority of the observable universe, and will lead us to astronomical (if you’ll pardon the ill-worded expression, and the unintentional pun) conclusions concerning both the beginning of our universe, and the eventual end. regan, just like a black hole, is a wealth of information, especially concerning the knowledge she harbours about disney, and the business management sector of it. it’s quite truly inspirational.

@im-an-adult-ish — the milky way

ah yes, the milky way. home to all of us. and that is the essence of my explanation here. meredith has such a friendly way about her, and she’s the kind of person you can easily turn to and feel welcomed. a bit like our little corner of the universe <3

@almightygwil — the sun

i think this is probably self-explanatory, if a bit repetitive, but ellie is a ray of sunshine. but perhaps that sells her a little short, because ellie is just so genuinely lovely that she must herself be the sun. her writing talent astounds me (you could say it blinds me, ha ha), and she never fails to be somehow both sweet and very chaotic at the same time. it’s very admirable (and certainly relatable, on the chaotic front). the sun itself, if we think about the surface and the fusion that takes place there, is both the sweetest sight ever seen, and quite chaotic, so i think it fitting that ellie is the sun.

@hijackmy-heart — callisto

callisto is one of jupiter’s moons, and my favourite, because it looks like a piece of the night sky decided to curl up into a ball. i don’t know nat too well, but i know that she’s gorgeous, like callisto, and loves roger taylor. let me explain. jupiter, in roman mythology, is the god of the sky and of thunder. in norse mythology, thor is the equivalent of jupiter, and to me, roger has always had a bit of that typical scandinavian look going, with the blonde hair and blue eyes (not to say that all scandis look like this, but he fits the stereotype :)). nat loves roger, and callisto orbits jupiter, so there you have it.

@six-bloodyminutes — the moon

the moon has a serenity about it, and mo has a knack for telling quite wild things with a most casual air. for instance, according to my sources, when a certain dorm room caught fire (?). mo thus bears this serenity, akin to the serenity i associate with the moon, with equal grace and chaos.

@dancingdiscofloof — pluto

pluto! the not-planet-oh-wait-maybe-it’s-a-planet-jk-jk-unless..? i still think that pluto should be considered a planet, despite the many arguments against the poor sod. pluto was once a planet, and should therefore have remained a planet, for the plain and simple fact that taking away its planethood was like giving a person a present, and then taking it back immediately afterward. anyway. i’m rambling. i also do not know rove very well, but i know that she’s kind, and, judging by the memes she shares, both of ryan gosling and tom hanks, that she is quirky— a bit like our beloved pluto.

@imcompletelylost — aurora borealis/aurora australis

also known as the northern lights/the southern lights, the polar lights, the merry dancers, the fox fires, or swarms of luminous herring (you can thank my ancestors, followers of norse mythology, for that one), the aurora is an astronomical phenomenon precipitated by the complete ring of light surrounding the poles, “which at its brightest has a distinctively green tint” (may, brian, et al. the cosmic tourist. carlton books, 2016.). yes i just made a citation from one of brian’s books. don’t worry about it. anyway, particles emitted from our sun are caught by the magnetic fields of earth’s poles, and thus produce this ethereal effect. but you know what the aurora has always reminded me of? disco lights. and libby is noting if not the queen of disco. oh, and, libby’s makeup talents? the aurora could never.

@aprilaady — butterfly nebula

the butterfly nebula is incredibly beautiful. but also, depending on from which angle it is beheld, it looks quite different. dor will surprise you, in the loveliest way possible (and sometimes the funniest) with a kind word or a joke, or even just a relatable comment. she has so many talents, being rivetingly smart within so many fields, especially the sciences, and in this, conveys multitudes, like the butterfly nebula. one might say her soul is painted like the wings of butterflies...

@doing-albri — solar eclipse

the alignment of the sun, moon, and earth. difficult to see, especially in totality, if you continually live in the same place. but there’s something magical in that alignment, i think. something quite poetic. it’s partially in the name ‘eclipse’ and partially in the nickname— a “ring of fire.” i saw the solar eclipse in august of 2018, and looking up at it, i was quite awestruck. you’re not supposed to stare directly at solar eclipses, because despite the moon overshadowing the sun, you can still damage your eyes significantly by looking at them. vi is so bright, both in her attitude and in her intelligence, and thus i’ve chosen the solar eclipse for her. also, when a solar eclipse occurs, using a piece of cardboard with a hole (or generally any thick-radius circular object with an opening), you can recreate the phenomenon on another surface, resulting in beautiful patterns and light-art, which i think speaks to vi’s eye for aesthetics.

@imalososos — meteor shower

meteor showers are perhaps some of the most beautiful phenomena i have ever seen. back in the summer of 2016, i stayed up all night to watch the perseids rush across the sky, and i was not disappointed, by any means. within the early hours of the 12th of august, an estimated 80 meteors darted across the heavens each hour. meteors, in essence, are clusters of mineral, usually debris from comets, which enter the atmosphere of a planet, and thus seem to shoot across the sky. now, you may be wondering, what’s the bloody blooming difference between meteoroids, meteors, and meteorites, and why are we talking about meteors in particular? well, meteoroids are cosmic debris that have not yet entered an atmosphere; as soon as a piece of cosmic debris enters a planet’s atmosphere, it is classified as a meteor. as for meteorites, nothing is a meteorite unless it strikes the ground. anyway. you didn’t come here for my science ramblings. meteors are also called ‘shooting stars,’ and let’s be honest, they’re space’s idea of art. streaks of light across the sky? sounds like a painting to me, and darya, among many other things, is an artist— and a brilliant one, at that. so i think it very fitting to describe her as the art of the universe <3

@mazzell-ro — saturn

i! love! saturn!!! being the only planet in our solar system with highly visible rings, it just stands out to me. it’s absolutely gorgeous, and an object of much inspiration to me, when i was little and decided that space was absolutely something i wanted to see. i could write an eight-verse song about saturn, i love it so much, and honestly, i think ro could write one too; she’s an excellent musician. but aside from its lovely rings, saturn is unique because its composition, in the ratio of its gases, would allow the planet to float in water. ro is uniquely wonderful, and her writing!!!!!!!! makes me so soft and happy and makes me want to give her the word. quite how i feel when i look up at saturn.

@mistiermistshazierdays — zodiacal light

you may recognise this term as brian’s speciality from when he was studying astrophysics. but what is it? zodiacal light is that strange triangle of light that appears glowing in the sky after twilight and before dawn, and is the subject of much earth-based astrophotography. extraordinarily beautiful, scientists are still not entirely sure what the phenomenon is, but most research and practical experiments are in favour of zodiacal light being sunlight reflected off of cosmic dust (also known as stardust!). now, if my knowledge of ancient greece and its mythology serves me, the name phoebe comes from phoebus, and (thank you google) means ‘bright.’ zodical light… bright… phoebe… you might say it’s a match made in the heavens. quite literally if we’re talking space. phoebe, you kind soul, you are stardust.

@speciallyred — andromeda galaxy

and last, but certainly not least, dear anna. i name thee the andromeda galaxy, partially for your own name, and partially for its poetic beauty. andromeda, the neighbour galaxy of our deal ol’ milky way, is actually about 2.5 million lightyears (15 trillion miles, 22.5 trillion km) away from us, here on earth. call me vain for the number of times i’ve described the beauty of space throughout this rather extended exposition, but andromeda is startlingly beautiful. one reason for this objective beauty is that andromeda is estimated to be home to roughly double the number of stars within our own galaxy. anna is one of the most talented poets i have ever come across, hands down, and what be the food of poetry, if not the stars?

[the-last-airblender]

Chapter 5: The Siege (part 2)

This is part of the Run series, check out part 1 here and the masterlist with the previous chapters here

Notes: here’s part two!

~

You whirl around, ready to grab your hidden throwing knives, but then see it's Hal.

He raises his hands and smiles hesitantly. 'It's just me.'

'Sorry.' You let out a sigh of relief and smile back. 'It's not like I can stab you right now, anyway.'

Hal chuckles and walks over to the balustrade, leaning against one of the small columns supporting the domed roof. The corners between the columns and the cupola are adorned with intricate stone wickerwork, just like the balustrade, which you can therefore partly see through. These graceful patterns seem to be almost the only thing not made out of volcanic rock; where the interior walls are mostly plastered white, the rest of the three-storey house has a red-gray tone that blends in nicely with the landscape.

'How are you feeling? People saw you running upstairs as if your life depended on it.'

You look up and silently curse your lack of subtlety.

'I really needed some fresh air', you sigh. 'I think the pastry from earlier didn’t agree with me. But I’m feeling better now.' You give him a warm smile. 'Thank you.'

'We can stay out here for a while', Hal suggests. 'This is my favorite place in the whole building, actually. Or, well, outside the building, I suppose.'

You chuckle and you’re inclined to agree, but then you remember why you’re here in the first place and shake your head.

'As beautiful as this view is, I came here to party', you say.

He gallantly offers you his arm, grinning broadly. 'Very well, m'lady. Let's party.'

~

'Hurry up, purge the drives', the imperial scientist commands the colleague next to him.

Both are hurriedly pressing all kinds of buttons on the control panel, but a few seconds later the blasterfire sounds too close for his liking and when he looks up, the intruders are rapidly approaching them and he quickly grabs his own weapon.

'Destroy it!', he yells to his buddy, who also takes out his blaster and desperately starts firing at the panel. Then he hears his colleague fall to the ground and he fires a few more shots in the direction of the strangers, but to no avail. A well-aimed shot hits his chest and he falls over the panel like a bag of salt.

An eerie silence falls over the room as Din and his companions slowly walk past the cabins embedded in the wall. The four of them have placed enough explosives to destroy the entire base with Karga's detonator, but their element of surprise is lost. Din has already given you the signal to start a fire in the villa.

Blue light illuminates their confused and horrified faces. The cabins seem to be filled with a certain cloudy liquid and Din can only just make out the faint contours of motionless figures floating in it. He doesn't know what’s in there, but it certainly isn’t human. A chill runs down his spine.

'I thought you said this was a forward operating base', he says.

'I thought it was', Karga mumbles.

Dune stares at one of the cabins, her face dark. 'No, this isn't a military operation.' She looks up to the others. 'This is a lab. We need to get into the system and figure out what's going on.'

Mythrol starts to protest, but Karga interrupts him. 'Do it!'

Din looks from the cabins to the half-destroyed panel. The scientists had been very intent on destroying their data. What kind of research could possibly be so important?

'I don't like this', he announces to no one in particular.

'Pardon me.’ Mythrol gently pushes the scientist's body, which still hangs over the panel, to the side until it slides to the ground with a thud. Then he starts pushing buttons, hoping to get at least something out of the burnt device. For a moment it looks like the scientist succeeded in wrecking it, but then a small hologram pops up and the figure of a man with glasses starts talking. Din immediately recognizes the doctor to whom he initially delivered the child.

‘-replicated the results of the subsequent trials, which also resulted in catastrophic failure’, the doctor says. ‘There were promising effects for an entire fortnight, but then, sadly, the body rejected the blood. I highly doubt we'll find a donor with a higher M-count, though. I recommend that we suspend all experimentation. I fear that the volunteer will meet the same regrettable fate if we proceed with the transfusion. Unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him. If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon. '

The message ends and an ominous feeling creeps over the Mandalorian. He looks from Dune to Karga.

'This must be an old transmission. Moff Gideon is dead,' he says, partly to reassure himself, but panic is already stirring in his chest.

Mythrol hardly dares to look at him. 'No. This recording is three days old.'

'If Gideon's alive, then...'

He doesn't get to finish his sentence.

'Over there!', a stormtrooper shouts from the hallway.

Blasterfire erupts from both sides and the man falls to the ground, but he didn’t come alone.

'We have them!', shouts another to his colleagues.

'I need to get to the kid', Din says hastily.

'Jet back, you're faster that way', Karga shouts over the sound of the shots. 'We'll head to the speeder and meet you in town!'

The Mandalorian nods and runs down a nearby hallway. Now he just needs to find the way out.

~

You're in the middle of your second dance with Hal when you get Din's signal. Because of the music, you can only understand half of it, but that’s all you need. Time to set this place ablaze.

On the way here you had worried about making any fire at all, since you didn’t have a lighter on you, but upon entering the mansion, the solution had immediately presented itself: candles had been placed on the balustrade of the second floor, inbetween each column, providing nice mood lighting. They certainly create atmosphere, but also an opportunity: with so many candles in the building, no one would be too surprised about a fire.

'All that twisting makes me sick', you shout in Hal's ear. 'I'm going to get some fresh air again. Be right back.'

'Wait, I'm coming with you', he says.

'I'd really prefer to go alone. Recharge my social battery, you know', you say quickly, planting a kiss on his cheek, hoping that will prevent any further protests. He opens his mouth and closes it again, flustered by the gesture, and you turn to walk away. Immediately, you bump into a person dressed in blue and you start to apologize, but then you see who it is.

'May I steal your friend here from you for a second?', Mayweather asks his son with a smile.

Before Hal can answer, however, the man has already put his arm through yours and is somewhat forcefully leading you away from the loud music.

'I almost didn't recognize you, lady Signas', he says without looking at you, pulling you to the side of the courtyard, towards the shadow of the overhanging balustrade. His body language still radiates the perfect, calm host, but the undertone in his voice is not lost on you and your heart is pounding so loudly that you have to make an effort to understand him. You pray to Dedis that he doesn't feel your trembling.

‘Then again, it has been years since I last saw you and you've certainly grown up a lot. But I'd recognize Duuganise wedding attire anywhere. I was at your father's wedding, remember?'

'No', you mutter as you reach the shadows, unable to stop your voice from shaking.

'Ah, I suppose you were very young at the time', Mayweather continues calmly, as if the two of you are just talking about the weather. 'His wife looked beautiful that day, almost as beautiful as you. What's her name again?'

He still holds your arm in a tight grip, even though you’re standing still now. To the other guests, it must seem as if the host is just having a friendly conversation with his guest.

You swallow and answer: 'Avlin.'

'Avlin, right', he nods. 'Did she do this?' He points to the paint on your arms and the lump growing in your throat prevents you from doing anything more than shake your head. 'No? Must have been your aunt, then. Always liked her. She's a very strong woman. Isn't it her son you married?'

All your instincts scream the same: he knows. Yet you cling to the last glimmer of hope for his ignorance and nod in agreement.

'That's right', you force yourself to add.

Then a guard appears from the corridor near you. He looks around and when he spots Mayweather, he comes up to him and whispers something in his ear. You're too busy panicking to hear him, but deep down you already know what news the guard is bringing. You’d heard shots when Din gave you the signal.

'Is that so?', Mayweather says with an unmistakably icy tone in his voice.

He looks down on you and you avoid his gaze. The grip on your arm tightens even more.

'I was wondering where you left that Mandalorian friend of yours.'

Your heart drops and you don’t fight him when he harshly drags you to the hallway. You’re led through a couple of wooden doors until you arrive in a mostly empty room where the festivities and the music can no longer be heard. The next moment you’re thrown against the wall and you fall to the stone floor with a pained cry.

'So what was your plan here, huh?', Mayweather begins, resting his hands on his knees and looking down at you as if you’re a naughty child. Every trace of kindness has now completely disappeared from his demeanor. 'They infiltrate the base while you stay up here and do… what, exactly?'

You push yourself into a sitting position and stubbornly stare at him, not planning to tell him anything about your intentions. For the time being, he doesn't seem to be aware of your affinity for knives or the ones still strapped to your legs. Whether he never knew or forgot, you can’t be sure, but once again you have to be smart about when to reveal your hidden weapons.

'One of my men did report a missing key, sir', suggests the brown-haired guard standing in the doorway. Mayweather raises an eyebrow and looks from him to you.

'I assume you're responsible for that, then', he concludes. ‘Certainly explains how they got in without the alarm going off. I should have known you were up to no good when I first noticed you, considering what you did back home. I should have put you on a ship and sent you back to Duugan the first chance I got. Guess I could still do that. But first I wanna know this: what are your friends planning on achieving down there, little girl?'

You don't answer and before you can blink, he slaps you across the face hard enough to make stars dance before your eyes. You can't hold back a scream as you lose your balance for a second. Your cheek burns painfully and anger rises in you.

Oh, this asshole is gonna pay.

You’re just about to grab a knife when Mayweather's next words stop you.

'What do we have here?'

He looks at something on the floor next to you and when you follow his gaze, your heart skips a beat.

Your earphone fell out of your ear.

In the silence that falls, a voice can be heard coming out of it, but you can only make out your name.

'Damn, my son sure is a bad judge of character', he sighs.

Before you can stop him, he plants his boot on top of the device and with a pathetic cracking sound your connection with the Mandalorian is severed.

~

Your scream echoes in Din’s head long after the connection is lost. He rushes through the long metal corridors, but every now and then he gets held up by alarmed stormtroopers. His instincts are screaming for him to fly to the child as quickly as possible. The news of Moff Gideon's survival scares him more than he'd like to admit and he can't wait to get to the Crest and leave this planet. But a little voice tugs on his conscience as he finally sees sunlight in the distance. The plan was that you would be picked up by Mythrol's speeder, but as always, the plan has long fallen apart. The sound of his heavy boots resounds through the hallway as he runs towards the light. He's not gonna leave you behind.

~

Panting, you run down the hall, as fast as your legs can carry you. Suddenly the road in front of you is blocked and you shoot into a side corridor, which turns out to lead back to the party. However, screams behind you tell you that the guards won't be afraid to just chase you there too. They underestimated you once and it cost them dearly, but they won't do that again.

You keep running under the balustrade while the rest of the guests let out cries of excitement and confusion, and you shoot up the stairs for the third time today. Your bun has come undone and the remnants flutter in the wind when you turn right twice without really knowing why. Once in the narrow hallway you realize what a stupid decision that was, but you can't go back. Wide-eyed, you slam against the balcony balustrade, wildly looking for a way out, but there isn't one. You're trapped.

Running footsteps echo behind you and you turn, half expecting to get shot right away, but much to your surprise it’s Hal who’s the first to reach the balcony, followed closely by the guards. The poor boy struggles to stop the enraged men, his face all confused.

'Wait, wait!', he shouts as you climb the balustrade in a desperate escape attempt. 'What are you doing?! Get down, I'm sure there's been some kind of misunderstanding... '

The Zabrak guard from earlier steps past him, his blaster pointed at you.

'Get back here', he barks.

'Stay there!', you shout, now standing upright, with your face towards them and holding on to the pillar next to you, still not really knowing what the hell you’re doing. You nervously glance down at the pass.

'Please, we can work this out', Hal begs.

The guards are staying where they are for now, no doubt because they want to bring you in alive and make you pay for the death of their commander and the injuring of their boss. You shoot the boy an apologetic look, but your cockyness has returned.

'You know, sometimes it is a good idea to look up a lady's dress', you tell the guards dryly.

And with a smug smile on your face, you let go of the column, salute them and let yourself fall off the balcony.

The sheer drop twists your insides to the point where you can't even scream and as the strong wind blows through your dress while gravity pulls you towards a painful death on the rocky floor meters below you, you immediately regret your decision; out of the corner of your eye, you see the black-and-metal-y blur that is the Mandalorian, who you saw flying in your general direction when you looked down.

And then you plummet right past him.

You finally manage to make a yelping sound as you start frantically flapping your limbs around in a desperate attempt to spontaneously grow wings and fly away from the rocks that are getting bigger and bigger by the second. Your now completely undone hairdo half clouds your vision when the realization hits you: in a few seconds, you're gonna hit the floor. If you're lucky, you'll be dead on impact. If Yris is in a particularly bad mood today, you'll survive but break every bone in your body. A strange calmness suddenly drowns out all your panic and time seems to slow down as you close your eyes and let your now useless body travel the last meters towards the ground.

When a strong force knocks the wind out of your lungs, you prepare yourself for the pain, but it wasn't rocks that hit you. It was beskar and muscles.

You open your eyes and see how Din awkwardly moves one of his arms from your waist to your knees to lift up your legs and thereby switch to a position he can actually hold long enough. You fly up into the sky again and as you rise above the hills, poorly aimed blaster shots fly right past you. Din seems to be too busy keeping both of you in the air to worry about it, rightfully relying on his beskar.

'Are you insane?!', he growls angrily.

With one arm you clamp to him and with the other you grab his blaster from the holster.

'Possibly', you shout back, looking past him and firing a few shots at the balcony, making sure not to aim at Hal. The guards duck and cease fire, and soon you’re too far away to get hit. You put the weapon back and you silently let yourself get flown back to the city. It’s all you can do to not ponder on the fact that the Mandalorian is literally carrying you in his arms like some kind of damsel in distress. Admittedly, you were very much in distress when you were falling from the balcony. You can feel his body heat and the strong muscles of his arms around your waist and legs and for some reason you feel like you’re in the safest place in the universe. Finally able to catch your breath, you let your head rest against his breastplate.

When you’ve almost reached the Razor Crest, the relative silence is rudely disrupted by a series of blasts, and you look over his shoulder at the fireballs rising up from the pass and the mansion. To your relief, you see that the guests are already outside, but that relief disappears as soon as you see thin shapes flying through the sky. Not birds, but Tie Fighters. You recognize them from a book and immediately realize that Karga, Dune and Mythrol are in trouble.

'They're being chased!', you shout. 'Tie Fighters are shooting at them!'

Din lands right next to his ship and hastily puts you down on the ground. He whirls around and sees that you’re right. He goes to move, but you’re one step ahead of him.

'Start the engines', you order. 'I'll get the kid.'

Before he can protest, you run into town.

~

A wild chase and a lot of shooting later, the Crest is flying safely over the city gate again, where Karga and the others are standing by the speeder and looking up at the ship. Din is just using his cape to wipe away the strange, mint-blue stuff the child spit out after the last looping, when Karga's voice sounds over the comm.

'That was some pretty impressive flying, Mando. Aren't you gonna let me buy you a drink?'

'Sorry', Din replies. 'We gotta hit the road before Gideon catches wise.'

'Well, good luck flying, my friend.'

Karga’s voice fades away and for a moment, a blessed silence falls over the cockpit. When the Crest leaves the atmosphere and Din has entered the coordinates for Qalla-knows-where, he turns to you. By now, the green color has disappeared from your face, but you’re pretty sure that you’d looked a lot like the child just now.

'I don't want to drag you into the whole Gideon business', he says. 'I can drop you off on any planet you like.'

After today's events, you're too tired to ask what that whole Gideon business is.

'Seems like we keep dragging each other into our businesses.' You laugh wearily. 'I don't mind. It's not like I have anywhere to go. So I wouldn't be against sticking around for a bit. You know, if you'll have me.'

You immediately regret your words, realizing that he was probably giving you a subtle hint, and you want to back out, but he answers before you can.

'Fine.'

He turns back to the controls and that's that. You blink slowly. That was easy. You decide to think about it later and you make a quarter turn in your chair and pull your knees against you, planning on getting some well-deserved shuteye. It’s not exactly comfortable, but you’re not complaining. Sleep is all that matters right now.

'You can take the bed', Din suddenly says, without looking up. 'It's next to the bathroom.'

You force yourself to protest. 'But that's yours! You should get some sleep as well.'

'I have some things I need to take care of.' When you still don't move, he adds: 'You need it more than I do. Go.'

You lack the energy to protest any further and you get up from your chair. At the sliding doors, you look back at him for a second. You’re no idiot, you’re fully aware that he just lied to you. The question is: why? An ancient instinct deep within you calls the answer, but you refuse to give in to it.

For now, anyway.

You leave the cockpit and climb down the stairs. That bed does sound great right now.

~

~

Tag list: @buckysalefty @dark-academics-and-florals