#lightning - human conditions

[yourgoldennotebook]

— Andrea Gibson, from “The Year of No Grudges, or Instead of Writing a Furious Text, I Try a Poem,” You Better Be Lightning

[vrs-culdesac]

Introducing: Lightning!

Introducing "Lightning", my first novel - hitting shelves (hopefully) by early 2026!

I've been working on this project for the past 1.5 years, on and off, with my editor @starrynightarchive / @six-white-venus.

Lightning is part 1 of a 4-novel series titled "Human Conditions."

If you're looking for a series with queer representation, South Asian/Indian main characters, nuance and a lot of dialogue on various topics - this is for you.

It's an absolute honour to be sharing my works with you all. Stay tuned for more information on "Lightning" in the coming days!

[windybluebelles]

I cling to Marvel being eight foot tall more than I cling to my own real life morals. Let him be a freak guys please it’s so funny.

My idea of Captain Marvel is that he looks like C.C Batson- Duh -but in the way that Billy remembers him.

Obviously his fully human father wasn’t nearly nine feet tall and built like a truck, but when your four years old and three feet tall, your going to think that he is. Most toddlers believe that their parents are the best people in the world so of course Billy as Captain Marvel is going to look perfect. I also just fully believe that you can’t take photographs of him, camera just fully blurs his figure till all you can see is the lightning bolt, every picture drawn of him is always incorrect. Even the best painters manage to land in a weird uncanny valley with him.

Anyone who knew C.C Batson is probably long dead or just has to put up with the fact that there’s this guy wearing a wrong copy of their friends face. Sucks to be them ig

I also prefer it when the rest of the Shazamily look like kids, slightly aged up from their normal selves but still young. They all still have this weird perfectness to them that makes them not quite recognisable and they are all at like peak physical condition.

Also they’re all like 6-7 foot tall.

Just monsterously oversized teenagers. Fully proportionate, weirdly muscular, gigantic teenagers.

Gotta love em!

[mide404]

I was raised in a family whose life was simple but filled with love and warmth. I was a young man living in an atmosphere of happiness, despite the harshness and difficulty of life. However, economic conditions forced me to leave my homeland in search of an opportunity through which I could help my family, who had always been the priority in my life.

While I was working far from them, I received news that I could never have imagined hearing. Suddenly, I lost the dearest people to me: my father, my niece, and my sister's daughter. This loss struck my heart like a bolt of lightning, but it wasn’t the only tragedy.

Our home, where we used to gather, was completely destroyed by war and devastation. My mother and siblings were left with nowhere to seek refuge except for a tent made of worn-out fabric, which does not protect them from the biting cold of winter or the scorching heat of summer. My family became homeless, struggling to survive in conditions that no human being should have to endure. Despite my desperate attempts, I found myself powerless to provide them with even the most basic necessities.

During this difficult time, I found no other option but to appeal to those with compassionate hearts. I plead with you today, not for myself, but for a family that is now without shelter, without security. My mother, who gave us all her love and tenderness, and my siblings, who sacrificed so much, deserve a new chance. They deserve a roof over their heads and the safety that can restore their hope in life.

With your help, this family can have a new life written for them. The security they lost can be restored. Your donations will contribute to building a new future, not just with money, but with hope and dignity.

Help us restore my family’s right to a dignified life, which every family deserves.

[wadee-onaba]

🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨🙏

Hello, my name is Wadih Anaba, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become more difficult than I ever imagined, and I am writing this in the hope that you will hear our story.

"My family is facing difficult living conditions due to the war in Gaza. I ask you to share my story with compassionate and humane people. Please read my family's story and try to help my children as much as you can."

🖖✍Hello,

My name is Wadih and I am from Gaza. On October 7th my family of seven was hit by an Israeli airstrike that destroyed our home. We miraculously survived the attack and headed to the UNRWA shelter school thinking it was safer. How come this place was also bombed, forcing us to flee to safer areas.

Our lives have changed so much that I have become extremely sensitive to smoke and phosphorus, and I have started to suffer from problems with my respirators. To this day, I still suffer from the effects of exposure to phosphorus, and I have not found any treatment to alleviate my mental acuity, which is getting worse day by day.

After fleeing to Al-Mawasi, we now live in a very small tent. We have no home, no food, and we are not living a humane life at all. Our livelihood has been cut off.

My dream was to protect my family and provide them with the simplest necessities of life, but hope was destroyed, and my dream ended forever.

I am appealing to anyone with a sense of humanity to help me flee to a safe place. Helping my family to provide food, drink, clean place and support to continue and unify my dream. I need 40 thousand pounds to travel abroad and my family outside Gaza,

Thank you to everyone who helps me and my family to find safety.

Wadih💔

Here is the link if you want to help us buy milk and diapers🙏💔

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @just-browsing1222-deactivated20 @mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @camgirlpanopticon @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sygol @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp @thedigitalbard @90-ghost @gazavetters @ibtisams @fairuzfai-blog @sayruq @longlivepalestina @nabulsi @self-hating-zionist @thenewgothictwice @el-infierno-esta-en-mi-mente shab-hussein @risoria @palipunk-blog @palestine @intersectionalpraxis @sealuai @malcriada @mangocheesecakes @farcillesbian @still--getting--there @apsswan @star-and-space-ace @rainbowywitch @marscodes @oursapphirestar @ot3@evilreceptionist, @ehksidian, @e, @fr0ge, @freshfries98, @feluka, @fromjanna, @f3l1c1af0x, @greenwingspino, @group-oc-tournament, @gottfried, @garden-of-vegan, @hojanaranja, @ip2lb, @jacksonharries, @khanger, @kibumkim, @lishadra, @lightning-in-your-teeth, @mangocheesecake, @mobileleprechaun, @oursapphirestars, @omegaversereloaded, @phantomofthetacobell-blog, @primmsfairytale, @paper-mario-wiki, @pcktknife, @sayruq, @soullesscoyote, @sanleigh, @spacefunclubs, @tilltshift, @palipunk, @palidoodles, @el-shab-hussein, @communistchilchuck, @northgazaupdates, @stil-lindigo, @queerstudiesnatural, @vakarians-babe, @sar-soor, @plomegranate, @nabulsi, @sayruq, @bluebellsinthedells, @palestine, @rizzyluke, @kordellius, @self-hating-zionist, @thenewgothictwice, @raelyn-dreams, @unfortunatelyuncreative, @licencetokrill, @jezebelgoldstone, @ramelcandy, @petracourtjester, @labutansa, @sammywo, @autistwizard, @tortiefrancis, @sparklinpixiedust, @appsa, @oopollo-blog, @fireyfobbitmedicine, @ibtisams, @90-ghost, @fairuzfan, @sar-soor, @nabulsi, @el-shab-hussein, @system, @finnslay, @muchmossymess, @rez-urrection,@staff @timogsilangan @palestine @khangems @khawla-gfm2 @jussumsum @heritageposts @gaza @freepal @sayruq @neptunerings @schoolhater98 @khizuo @schoolhater98 @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sygold-blog @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani123-blog @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp @seafoamwoman, @emathyst9, @three-croissants, @aristotels, @bixlasagna, @bonesashesglass, @blackprinter, @buttercuparry, @briarhips, @cagandante-communistoide, @crimsaph, @crispyartdev, @determinate-negation, @distillatoria, @dontbelasagnax, @dlxxv-vetted-donations, @deepspaceboytoy, @distillatoria, @deepspaceboytoy, @oblidion, @fr0ge. @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @boyvandal-blog @the-bastard-king @13ag21k @agentfascinateur

[beckyninja]

Pursue and Persevere

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Guilliman is a bit unhinged in this one

Description: Guilliman clings to sanity... and discovers new allies. Brother Tarchus comes to terms with his failure. And the Reader makes herself a promise.

I had so much fun fleshing out the TerraNovans in this chapter. Remember to check out my Masterlist for the previous chapters of this story, and feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the Taglist.

Also, my Asks are open if you have questions about my stories or characters, or if you'd just like to say hi.

He is more than the Avenging Son. 

The thought passed through Brother Julian Tarchus’s mind an instant before his genesire’s fist closed around his throat. 

He is Wrath Incarnate.

The Ultramarine had followed his father’s charge into the bowels of the battleship, ignoring Commander Sicarious’s infuriated orders. His armor had whined in protest as he pushed it to its limits. And yet, he had not been able to approach the Primarch’s speed.

He remembered coming upon Frenzy standing just outside a ruined doorway.  Her face, through her machine’s viewport, had the staring eyes of a corpse.

Then he’d heard the howl… and understood.

If he lived to match the years of the Chapter Master of his cousins in the Blood Angels, he would never forget that cry. Both his hearts stuttered. The blood in his veins congealed. Still, he pressed forward on stiffened legs.

The Primarch stood in the small hangar. 

Tarchus could not see his genesire’s face. Some primal part of him untouched by the brutal conditioning of an Astartes cowered.

Run. Run. RUN.

He would not. Could not.

“My Lord?”

The massive form turned. Eyes like blue lightning scorched his soul. A blur of movement, and fingers of adamantine dug into his flesh.

“She is gone.”

The words cut deeper than any blade. As Tarchus looked into the eyes of the demigod whose genes he carried, something within withered.

“You failed.”

The Ultramarine’s knees buckled. Only the impossible strength of the Primarch held him upright. Then, the fingers released and he fell.

Through a haze of shame, he heard the Commander’s shouts. The pounding of boots against metal. His brothers burst into the hangar, weapons ready, only to freeze at the sight of their Lord. Tarchus heard a dozen lungs suddenly fight for breath.

“Lord Guilliman,” Commander Sicarious sounded as though he spoke through a locked jaw, “what are your-”

“My Lady is alive, and in the hands of our enemy.” Humanity veiled the Primarch’s true nature once more. “He has fled with her like the craven he is. We will withdraw to the Macragge’s Honor and pursue.”

“My Lord, the remainder of the fleet back in Imperial space will be awaiting news. What-”

“Have the astropaths send what messages you deem appropriate. I care not.”

“Lord Guilliman-”

The veil tore. “I care not.”

Silence. Tarchus let his gaze drop to the floor.

A deep breath. “Have Captain Takahashi meet me upon our return. This ship, and whatever crew is wise enough to surrender, now belong to her.”

“And those who prove unwise?” The Commander growled.

“I have no mercy to spare for fools.”

The clash of ceramite on ceramite. “Understood, my Lord!” Hesitation. “And what of Brother-”

“He remains here. Until I see my Lady’s face again, I will not see his.” 

“...understood, my Lord.”

Tarchus kept his eyes on the floor until the pounding of sabatons faded into the distance. His chest felt as if he were once more trapped beneath that pile of scrap.

Useless. 

He’d sworn to free you.

Oathbreaker.

He’d been named your protector.

Failure.

“Big Guy?”

He paid no regard to the approach of the TerraNovan lieutenant and her strange machine. Hydraulics creaked. He heard the hiss of escaping air, then a soft grunt as baseline feet hit the floor.

“Hey, you alright?” The ghost of a hand on his forearm.

“You dare.” Lurching to his feet, he sent her stumbling backward. “I am an Ultramarine, a Warrior of the God-Emperor!”

He loomed over her. Her heartbeat pounded wildly within her chest, and yet, she did not retreat. Tiny fists clenched at her side. Dark eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, I fucking know.” She snarled up at him. “And you just got your ass chewed by… I’m not sure what He is. Except fucking terrifying!” 

To his utter bemusement, she then proceeded to jab a bloodied finger at his stomach. “And I’m asking if you’re fucking alright!”

Tarchus blinked down at her. Unfamiliar emotions flared through him.

My genesire rejected me. My brothers left me to my shame. And yet this woman… this tiny, feral creature….

“No.”

“No?”

“I am not… alright.” He forced the words out, only half-understanding why he spoke at all. “I am dishonored. A… failure.”

“Yeah? Join the club.” She snorted. “Ain’t many people more intimately acquainted with fucking up than me, Big Guy. You’re not the only one who decided not to go straight after the Princess.”

He huffed a burst of air through his nose. “You followed my directives.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who follows fucking orders?” Her voice dropped to a mutter as she ran a hand through sweat-stiffened hair. “The one time I decide to play the good little soldier….”

“The blame is mine.”

“Fine. Take it then. But quit moping.”

The audacity…. “I do not ‘mope’.”

“Suuuuure.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m just trying to say, the Princess is fucking alive. And as long as she stays that way, we haven’t failed. Doesn’t matter what that terrifying tower of pure fuck no says.” Once again, the finger jabbed at his midsection. “You and I still have a shot at redemption.”

In spite of everything, Tarchus felt a corner of his mouth tip upward. “And how do you propose we accomplish that?”

The half-mad grin returned. “Didn’t you hear the man, er, Primarch? We’re gonna run Vicky down. And whatever he’s got in store for us, be it mercs or Giant Fucking Space Bugs, we’re gonna grind their asses into bloody paste, not to mention rescue a Princess.”

She jerked a thumb toward the shattered doorway. “Now, I’m heading up to the Bridge to meet our new Captain. I heard she’s a real Ice Bitch, that true?”

“That is an accurate description.”

“Good. We’re gonna need someone like that to get this hulk in fighting shape again. C’mon.”

Tarchus watched her vault back into her machine, surprised to realize her words had driven away the cold despair he’d felt mere moments before.

I will restore my honor and succour the Lady. By the Emperor, I vow it!

“Hey, Big Guy!”

He glanced over to see the Lieutenant grinning at him through her machine’s viewport. 

“Bet I stomp more bugs than you!”

He pressed his helm over his face to hide an answering smile.

***

Roboute Guilliman did not smile. One image replayed in his superhuman mind over and over again, as clear as when he’d first witnessed it.

You. Alive.

Part of him could not believe it. This universe did not return the dead. Fate did not give second chances. Light, once extinguished, remained so.

But she is alive!

He envisioned each detail like a painter admiring his masterpiece. Your soft skin, your shining hair, your bright eyes. The way your lips formed his name. 

“Roboute!”

A groan tore from his chest. He sensed the concerned glances of his genesons but couldn’t bring himself to care.

The hope in that cry, the plea. 

And then the anguish.

More details clawed their way to the forefront of his eidetic memory. The mottled bruises on your skin, the cuts. Each one a violation bordering on blasphemy. Signs that someone had dared inflict pain upon you. 

Someone. Him.

His snarl sent an icy current of fear through the Command Center.

The cretin. The imbecile. The invertebrate masquerading as a man. He’d touched you. He’d had the gall to lay hands upon his light, his hope, the one who made life bearable. And more than hands.

The primal creature lurking within his inhuman soul writhed in helpless fury.

She is mine.

Mine.

Mine.

“Mine.”

“My Lord?” 

Guilliman turned toward the Commander, reading the uncertainty in his expression. “Do you think me mad, Sicarious?”

“I…”

He chuckled, an unpleasant sound even to his own ears. “Perhaps I am. It matters not.” Turning back, he leaned over the holographic star chart. “What news from the Captain?”

The Commander snapped to attention. “All opposition onboard The Predator has ceased. It appears many of the crew were functionally slaves, captured in various piratical actions, and were eager to swear loyalty. With the addition of the remaining crew from the Captain’s previous ship, repairs to The Predator’s engines are already well underway.”

The Commander continued, relating projected timelines for completion, status of multiple shipboard systems, armament reports, etc. All the while, Guilliman’s gaze zeroed in on a single world shown on the chart. His instincts howled to be underway, even if it meant leaving the damaged TerraNovan battleship behind. 

However, despite what Cato may think, I am not entirely devoid of reason.

If Tyranids did indeed lay in wait for them, they would need every bit of firepower at their disposal.

He shook his head.

If Victor truly believes himself allied with those horrors, then he is the madman, not I.

A madman who held you in his clutches.

Again, the looping image of you being dragged into the ship… the bastard’s mouth savaging your delicate lips… stealing what belonged only to him. For a moment, Guilliman entertained a vicious fantasy of playing the Night Lord and peeling Victor’s face from his skull while he screamed.

I would lay it at your feet, and then take you before his still-living eyes, letting the last thing he hears be your voice screaming my name-

He grit his teeth and let his head fall forward between his shoulders, breath coming in hissing gasps.

By the Throne, what have you done to me, my love?

“Multiple contacts exiting the Warp!”

Everything snapped back into focus. “Hostiles?”

“Unknown, my Lord.” The baseline crewmember fiddled with his console. “Several appear similar to the TerraNovan warships we’ve encountered, many however…,” a pause, accompanied by the clacking of keys, “appear to be civilian?”

A vox operator called out next. “Hail from Captain Takahashi, my Lord!”

“Patch her through.”

The star chart vanished, replaced by the quivering image of the TerraNovan Captain. “Lord Guilliman, do not fire upon the approaching vessels.”

He stared into her bloodshot eyes. “Explain, Captain.”

To his surprise, she smiled. “The Lady Heir put out a call to arms, my Lord. This is the answer.” 

The next hours could only be described as organized chaos as Imperial vox operators and TerraNovan communications officers struggled to bring order to what was quickly becoming a ragtag fleet.

Guilliman stood in the midst of it all, listening to the sheer variety of hails.

Some military.

“This is the cruiser, New Sydney, of the loyal TerraNovan Navy. Prepared to enter fleet formation.”

“This is troop transport, Raed, loyal to the Lady Heir. Damaged in the battle over Xin Beijing, but we are warriors and, by the Light, we will fight!”

“Battleship Eko Tuntun. Three of our engines are gone, we are slow. But we are here.”

Some decidedly less so.

“Holy shit! The Imps are here! Uh, yeah, this is the ore hauler Lucky Strike. Not much in the way of weapons, but we’ll do what we can.”

“This is prison transport Tapasya, from the Zeta penal mining colony, Colonel Samarth Gurung, formerly of Her Majesty's 3rd Rifles, commanding. We are the unjustly accused. We will fight for the Matron Uncrowned… and for her allies.”

And still more came. Naval ships. Merchants. Smugglers. Pirates. Voidships of more sizes and shapes than he had seen since his awakening placed themselves under Captain Takahashi’s command.

“My Lord,” Sicarious groused, “surely this… fleet… should report to you!”

“They do not know me, Cato. To them, the entire Imperium is an unknown entity. Perhaps to be feared. We will earn their trust, not force their compliance.”

His sons did not understand. He hoped, someday, to change that. In the meantime, he watched the TerraNovans come to their Lady’s call. His mind calculated troop strengths, total armaments, potential strategies. The endless theoreticals and practicals calmed the snarling beast within… for the moment. 

“Another hail from Captain Takahashi, my Lord.”

This time, the Captain did not smile. “I’ve received a transmission from the latest voidship to arrive, Lord Guilliman. He requests to speak with you directly.” She hesitated. “I believe you should hear him.”

“Very well.”

A young man appeared on the display. Gaunt, spectacled, and leaning heavily upon a cane.

“Lord Guilliman,” he whispered hoarsely, “my name is Conrad, Prince of TerraNova. I believe you’ve met my cousins.”

***

You hadn’t seen Victor for hours, and thanked the Light for it. 

Tossed in a half-lighted storage closet like unwanted baggage, you curled upon the floor and replayed the day’s events in your mind. Or had it been multiple days? You didn’t know.

So much fear. So much death. Some at your hand.

In the silence, you allowed yourself to grieve. And, when the tears stopped, to rejoice.

When he burst into the hangar like the vengeful god many say he is, I couldn’t breathe!

All else had faded away. You hadn’t felt the ache of your abused body, Victor’s noxious presence, or the terror that had dogged your every step. Only him.

Bloodstained and brutal and beautiful. A hero out of legend, come for you.

Oh, the look in his eyes…!

If you’d entertained any doubts before, you had none now. Roboute had looked at you like he’d shatter worlds to have you, shatter the very stars themselves. And you believed he could.

All too briefly.

You wished you’d bitten Victor when he kissed you. Or, rather, when he made the attempt. You knew what a kiss should be. Your cousin’s clumsy mauling didn’t compare. And yet you’d simply let him do as he pleased with you. 

As you had so many times since your grandmother took you.

I could make excuses. Too tired. Too overwhelmed. Too weak. Too frightened.

No. More. In the frigid darkness of the cramped closet, you whispered a Vow.

“Never again will I be a passive participant in my own life. Light guide me and make it so!”

You would wait. You would watch. You would play the role your cousin expected: timid and broken.

But you would find a way out, a way back to the only man who’d ever truly seen you, who you loved and who loved you with an intensity that set you aflame. Side by side, you would purge the evil your cousin had nurtured.

"I will be the leader our people believe I am, Victor. And, before Roboute kills you, I will make sure you know it.”

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus @lemon-russ

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith @noncon-photobomb @sinistermojo @b-rabbitboss @vyzz-undercover

@missmannequin @rivalriotrenegade @iloveoutlinesiswear @jaghatai-khock @hatsubara-8chan

@justanothermemestrider @meervalv0 @grimdark-raccoon @garlickedbreads @riokunova

@ailujsenutna @emiemiemiii @astrohymn @synfiction @soul-of-leya

@n0cturn4 @mgrm99 @seirensou @zamzmak @elita1

@ilovewolvezz @primordialsneeze @summersong2262 @nereidof40k @ahrianee

@sunsetlobster @nekotaetae @toto-the-cactus @thevoidscreams @vithralith

@contemporaryslug @thisuserislilsilly @runin64 @gobs-archive @sovietstrange45

[the-east-art]

Some questions about your shifter Stan au (because I am completely enamored!):

Does being asleep/knocked unconscious make Stan change form? Does he accidentally shift when having a nightmare or something? What about when he’s awake, but someone startles him? Does fatigue or pain make it harder for him to hold a form? If he shifts to look like a certain person, will he be indistinguishable from them or will there be an uncanny valley vibe? Are certain forms more comfortable to take/do they feel more natural if he uses them a lot? Can he only change appearance or can he change his physical condition too- if he loses a kidney or breaks an arm, could that be fixed with a shift?

Sorry for so many questions!

Hi! I usually try to do little artwork and comics and stuff for questions but kinda just wanna answer this lightning rough style!

usually if stan is knocked unconscious he will maintain the form he is in UNLESS it's a particularly strenuous form (one of the smallest or biggest forms)

Stan will shift from a nightmare - usually into a bigger form or partial shifts such as his spiked knuckles.

When he's awake and someone startles him the worst he'll do is a partial shift (again the knuckles, changing his nose or eyes, etc)

fatigue and pain deffo make it harder to hold forms - however all his 'usual' forms are easy to maintain even when he is tired.

He will give off an uncanny valley vibe when he shifts into a person unless he's had time to really study them and practice going back and forth. Luckily he very seldom wanted to look like someone specific, he usually just wanted to look not like any of his previous Shfits that are wanted by the police or by gangs.

Certain forms do feel more comfortable - Stan has a handful (maybe more) that are his go-to forms and feel about as natural as his default. Most human forms though aren't too strenuous unless they're at the edges of his abilities (extremely small or extremely large)

Stan can change his physical condition as well - most notably during his grifter years he had one of his eyes carved out but is able to shift a replacement. HOWEVER because shifts can be influenced by emotions and since it was such a scarring moment it's VERY hard to get the eye 'right'. Same goes for the tattoo/scar - its there for any shift no matter what he does. So theoretically if he could lose a kidney WITHOUT it being emotionally scarring it would be easy to replace. But as long as it weighs heavily on him mentally it will take effort to generate and maintain.

[prinzrupprecht]

Asking them if you’re their type

Featuring: Indra, Buddha, Okita, Hades ( part 2 )

Part 2 after taking a day off here.

Part 1 incase any of y’all missed it.

Warnings? None.

Indra

He was a mystery to everyone, even to you as well. Indra was the one who found you alone isolated from everyone else. He was laid back at first sight and you had thought he wanted to fight. This made you realize that there was someone else similar to you and noticed your existence.

You continuously watched him train around Brahma and Vishnu while he didn’t mind you watching you, he found it rather cute you followed him around curiously.

This made you and him grow rather close and fond over the years of being isolated from others and choosing to be in each other's silent comfort. He liked smoking and you didn’t mind him doing what he wanted. However, a part of him didn’t like Rudra making advances on you despite he didn’t know you already were Indra’s.

Indra had told him in a nice way to buzz off or else. You smiled while you stood back watching the two men fight. You were unaware of what they were talking about, but Rudra shrugged his shoulders before leaving the summit of Svarga.

You saw Indra sit down a bit farther from where you were. He didn’t look too happy but he grabbed another cigarette and lit it using his lightning. “What were you talking about? He looked upset?” You had asked while sitting next to him, but Indra had put one arm around your waist to pull you closer. Your face was flustered but you soon relaxed in his embrace.

“Do you like me being here?” You asked and he was silent for a moment.

“Ya? Why?” Indra puffed out some smoke. He brought one leg up to his chest to rest his other arm on his knee.

“I don’t know… it sometimes felt like I been annoying you too much. Sometimes I wonder if I’m your type or something…” you muttered even though he still was holding you.

He didn’t say anything but you could hear him clear his throat from the smoke. “If you annoyed me, I would’ve let Rudra have you.” He was a quiet man but that made your head perk up from his answer.

“Have me?” you didn’t know someone else was trying to pursue you. You were just a normal goddess of the Hindu pantheon.

“Stop worrying about that. Or whatever my type is. I like what I have right here,” he didn’t face you but you noticed the small curve in his lips turn upwards. You were satisfied and reassured that he likes living in the moment and preferred your company than being alone.

Buddha

You have known Siddhartha ever since King Jakata introduced you to him. You were a common lower-ranking girl with family and relatives who knew the King.

Jakata was a kind man who cared for his people and interacted with many commoners. However, you didn’t care for Prince Siddhartha in the beginning, but he acted like you must get to know him to like him. He was persistent and you were stubborn.

Siddhartha was the one that was blunt asking for your hand in marriage to end his arrangements with other high-ranking families that wanted to wed their daughters to him and get whatever they wanted. Wealth, fortune, and a nice home. You told him no, but he kept trying every day to see if you changed your mind.

Eventually, his annoying presence became your everyday routine. After King Jakata’s death, he wanted to travel and explore the vast limitless outside world and save humans from insufferable fate. He was going to forbid his farewell and never see you again. You asked him to take you with him to get away from your old life as well. You said this without thinking and immediately covered your face. Siddhartha laughed, but only on one condition and he would allow you to travel with him.

You have to accept his proposal to be his wife. This made you hesitate but you also wanted to leave your home desperately. You had agreed in the end just so you could leave your boring home.

After he left everything behind except for you, he started to oppose other religions that imposed fate upon innocent beings. He would protect humans and create his own religion. You watched him save others without any significant doubt. He obtained his enlightenment this way and you were slowly fascinated with this new man that calls himself the Buddha.

“Hey! Wait up!” you found him near a tree taking a break while eating and reading some novel. He didn’t even give you an eye glance but it didn’t bother you how absorbed he was with his book.

“Buddha-chan, why are you here? We were supposed to be travelling on the road.” You sat down next to him.

“Why? There’s no rush, sit and try these.” He offered you whatever he was eating. Dry peaches? Did he like these? Your eye twitched but you reluctantly tried the fruit and it had a really sweet flavour. You made a sour look after trying it. Buddha laughed at your reaction knowing you weren’t as fond of such treats.

You frowned before speaking, “may I ask you something?” You leaned more into him while your head was practically propped on his shoulder. He treated you with such care and always looked out for you whenever he could.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Why did you want me to be your wife for so long? You had everything handed to you and I had… nothing. I wasn’t anyone special. I didn’t think we were compatible together or if I was your type.” You heard him burst out into a laughing fit next to you causing you to jump.

“You looked kind of lonely, it’s not about having everything to keep myself happy. I bring happiness to others, I didn’t like seeing how sheltered you were. Anyway, enough of that, let's get going, ey? Also… stop with the gloomy look. I didn’t particularly understand the type question either.” His answer wasn’t what you had expected but you learned a few things while being with him, he cared a lot for others happiness, including yours. So he thought you wanted company?

“Why did you think I would ever want your company?” You stuck your bottom lip out as you pouted but he cupped your cheeks with both hands.

“I thought you already knew me by now. I told you before that you should get to know me first before judging.” He leaned his head against yours affectionately. Your face was red but he’s more affectionate when it’s nighttime.

Okita

You had known him since you two were kids. Kondo adopted him when he was nine years old after being abandoned by his sister. You were just another kid attending his dojo and looked after by Kondo. After hearing what happened to Souji, you felt incredibly sorry for him. You had told him if he ever needed someone, he could rely on you. Souji was a silent kid for a while and helped around the dojo. Whenever you needed help with something, he would immediately help you.

Over the years, you developed more feelings for him and what killed you on the inside is if he ever felt the same. You had previously turned down Nagakura who wanted to take you out for drinks. It honestly, broke your heart even more with how much you enjoyed being in his company while worrying if he thinks of you as an older sister.

As you were alone minding your own business cleaning the floors with the broom, Hijikata walked over to you unbeknownst to what he was gonna ask, “why are you cleaning? That’s Souji’s job,” he gave you an annoyed look as if you don’t live at the dojo. You had been cleaning the dojo before Souji even joined it.

“Let her clean. I’d rather the floors look nice than dirty,” Yamanami rolled his eyes. You heard Hijikata mutter ‘whatever’ before asking Heisuke to spar with him. This must’ve been the fifth time today he asked someone to spar against him and lost each time. You noticed Souji was outside with Kondo talking to one another.

Your heart clenched a bit as you held onto the broom tighter. Why couldn’t you say anything? You honestly wanted to know if he was even into girls, to begin with. He seemed more happy about swordsmanship than you anyway.

Nagakura walked over to you after his workout against Hajime. He placed one arm over your shoulders causing you to freeze in your place. “So… how about we go somewhere tonight?” Go somewhere? You looked behind you and saw Souji looking at you and Nagakura curiously. Oh no…

“N-No, I um… am busy tonight!” You stepped away politely declining him yet again. You know Souji watched that encounter and you have no words. You quickly disappeared to go back to your hidden spot outside away from everyone.

Great you finally were alone and noticed how quiet the area was. Maybe you can finally clear your head before heading back— “hey, why did you run off?” an awfully familiar voice said behind you. The leaves crunching under his feet were loud enough for you to scowl.

“I just wanted to be alone.” You turned your head but he didn’t say anything about the incident that occurred earlier. He stopped to look at what you were doing. You had grabbed some of the flowers and were picking the petals off of them.

“You don’t have to be here, you can go check back on Kondo-san.” You shrugged as you sat down by one of the trees. He walked over to you and decided to do what you were doing out of boredom as well. Was he just mimicking you? Souji always appreciated you and tried to make your day better if you were upset. He was always there if you needed someone.

“You don’t like Nagakura-san?” he finally brought the topic up. An awkward topic. You shook your head.

“Well, not in that way… I’m sure he will find someone. What about you? Don’t you have a type or interest in girls?” Your question took him off guard. He never really had time for such things and you were the only girl he really talked to.

“Type? I don’t know..”

“You don’t get the question?” you frowned.

“No, I do. I just don’t know what my type would be. Someone who’s nice? Likes cats? Who can eat Kondo’s food…” he was playing with your head again. You were all those things and yet he was smiling like an idiot thinking about it.

“So someone like me?” You pointed to yourself but you soon regretted that and quickly turned your head. His mouth gaped open without realizing what you meant. Were you joking?

“Hmm well… sure!” he chuckled which you hope he meant it.

“So that means you like girls?” you curiously asked and he tilted his head.

“Huh? You think I’m gay?”

“What—?! No! I was just curious…” you sulked your head lower from embarrassment.

“I like girls, so don’t worry about it.” he gave you the most innocent smile which brought you some reassurance. He certainly caught on to what you’ve been worried about. Thank god…

Hades

Living in the netherworld had many cons than pros. Yet, the most fun part was you got to do what you wanted but that was before Hades took over the shithole of Helheim. You practically couldn’t do what you wanted anymore. He kept questioning you and asking why you— a human was doing in Helheim. Even though he already knew the answer. You just liked dodging his questions.

You didn’t like him at all in the beginning and kept arguing with him. Why couldn’t he have ended you? Maybe he liked your presence or he missed your annoying face harping at him whenever you wanted.

Hades had put up with you for so long, that he even offered you to live in his castle seeing that you travelled a lot in the underworld. You got into many dangerous situations but you refused to live in his castle. However, to him, this seemed amusing how he is normally a feared man and you showed no signs of care about his existence.

“You’re infuriating, why do you keep finding me in the most odd places?” You sat down near the dark forest that was several miles away from his castle.

“You forget that I’m the King of the Netherworld. You’ve been disturbing some of the demons nearby. You’ll get yourself killed,” Hades sighed and was feeling hopeless with your stubbornness. He was supposed to protect this place and many of the monsters that resided in his world, wouldn’t dare attack him. However, they tried to attack you many times. The last time caused a significant wound near your side from the unexpected attack from a large hydra that nearly killed you.

“So what if I get killed, I was sent here to die anyway with no explanation whatsoever. I heard there’s even another human here as well,” you thought hard about who the human was named but you had forgotten.

“Michel Nostradamus? He destroyed part of the Bifrost. As for you? You strictly walked down here on your own somehow you passed the wall. Once you’re down here, you can’t ever return to Valhalla. You’re decisions seem stupid, however, if you need someone to talk to, you know where I am. And lastly, stop what you’ve been doing.” He warns and as he was about to turn away and return to his castle.

“Fine, it’s just boring. You’re one of the few that doesn’t try to kill me on sight.” You stood up on your feet.

“My invitation is still there if you wish to stay somewhere permanently under my rules.” He had a grin plastered on his face.

“Ya ya, whatever. I get it, Mr King of the Underworld..” you rolled your eyes. Under normal circumstances, anyone who dared to disrespect Hades would’ve been punished. He sighed, allowing you to follow him back. The walk back was mostly you talking nonstop and getting distracted by the things around you two.

The guards of his castle greeted Hades but scowled when they saw you with him. “Rude…” you pouted.

You noticed how the castle was dark on the inside and barely anyone lived in the castle other than himself and his brother Adamantine, which Hades had told you. “Looks incredibly depressing here. Don’t you have a wife to be your home decor? Everything seems so empty here,” you saw how dusty some of the cabinets were.

“Wife? I’m sure if I had one, she wouldn’t let you stay here.” You pretended to act hurt but muttered a whatever at his statement.

“Let me decorate these rooms then? Hm?” You offered but Hades waved you off to do whatever but not do anything chaotic.

The next few days you had changed around some of the rooms to look less creepy. You still continuously witnessed him alone in his room reading or making reports. You wondered what he even made reports for. How does he even rule over such a dead place? “What are you doing?” Hades saw you watching him from behind the door peeking over.

“Seeing how bored you are staring at a bunch of words on a sheet of paper.” You tilted your head to the side and smiled at him. He was irritated but it wasn’t enough to shout at you.

“Why don’t you give me company then? Only if you don’t try to get on my nerves,” He offered which you snorted and stepped into his sight.

“Okay!” You two sat a bit far apart except you were on a floor cushion and he sat in his chair. After a few minutes, you wanted to ask him why he chose to be alone.

“Doesn’t it get lonely here? Also, why isn't someone like you married? Actually, never mind. I don't think any woman would like to live in a creepy haunted castle… It’s honestly starting to make me worry,” you sucked in a breath. Hades raised a curious brow at your question. Lonely? Not married? He was used to it. There’s no women in the underworld and you were the only one.

“No,” he responded solemnly. “It doesn’t get lonely here. As for the other question, nobody had caught my eye.” He kept it vague and tried to avoid anything too personal about himself.

“Caught your eye? So that means you must have a type then! Like me? Cute and annoying?” You were making him want to snap his pen in half.

“Shut up or you can leave,” he wondered back on what you meant by type. He probably would feel more lonely without someone like you around. Did you keep him on his toes more? He was curious more about you and how strong are you. There were so many things he wanted to know and explore but take it slow.

“Fine.. I’ll leave.” You stood up realizing you ticked him off.

“Wait, why don’t you tell me more about yourself instead of asking your king dumb questions.” He gave you a smug look but you looked back at him and nodded. Of, course you’ll yap in his ears but he’ll get used to it. He hoped.

Note: wow this took 2 days… I’m sorry! I tried. I’m working on a few new one shots next. Dunno when part 3 will come yet.

[mihii-i]

hollow.

Pairings: furina x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, vampire au, girls kissing oh no, crackfic(?), wlw, graphic mentions of violence, beginning is very up to interpretation, blood, furina being so adorable im gonna cry, macaroni :3, I made it super short bc I lost motivation since its past the deadline 💔, kinda a plot twist at the end, not proofread.

A/N: FURINAAAAAA AWAWAAAWAWA oh yeah uhm sorry about this being late but part of @edgeray ‘s Halloween event! 🕯️

All surrounding you was nothing but an endless void caging in around you, enveloping your mind as you found yourself stumbling backward. Eyes heavy, your pupils rolled back upon feeling the thick showers of rain trickle down your freezing skin, floods of endless water streams washing over the vicinity in endless pattering. It was quite evident that this time of day, especially in such blinding conditions was unsafe for many. Especially humans such as yourself who wandered mindlessly in the wild, carelessly allowing the scent of your blood to waver wherever you traveled.

The last sight that caught your eye as you stumbled back was a quick glimpse of the blackened sky adorned with dark tufts of clouds, flashes of lightning ripping through the air in sudden bursts while you squinted your eyes at the sudden shred of light flooding your sight in the blinding darkness. Your soaked clothing stuck to your skin, sending shivers through your body as the cold cloth adhered against your exposed self. Each shower of rain descending down as the gray clouds parted only seemed like a warning sign from the gods themselves, casting down an inescapable storm that would leave you vulnerable for the inhuman nightmares roaming the area to tear to shreds.

You honestly didn’t even know why you were out. The shivers racking your body paired with the purple-ish tint faintly dusted along your skin from the stinging freeze was enough to encourage you to head home. Yet, something within you screamed at every fiber in your body. Every inch of you continued to trudge forward against the force of the winds pushing against you, knowing you can’t head back home. You couldn’t head back, or you would be dead. Not even given the courtesy of being buried or having your body kept intact. Rather, you’d be reduced to an unrecognizable pulp, beaten down ruthlessly until blood painted the ground you lay on.

The mere thought of your body not being able to rest after death—possibly worse—only made you hunch inward at the disgusting fate, face dropping in pure terror. Howls of wind continued to rustle against your ears repeatedly as you bit down on your bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to try and warm up the blue tinged flesh dragged between your teeth. You hissed in a sharp breath of pain as the see though nature of your clean white shirt only exposed the splatter of blood soaking through the white cloth of your shoulder and trickling down your arm. How much longer could you handle? How much longer could you endure the bites of cold air poisoning you from the inside out as you only grew more and more exhausted from the sting.

The answer was not long. A sudden gasp escaped your lips as your knees buckled inward, causing you to release your lower lip from your teeth as a shock response to the numbness seeping through your body slowly. You sucked in a breath as you knelt down, brows knitting together in pain as your free hand served to shield the damp blood seeping through the deep wound in your shoulder. Heavy breathing rang in your ears, albeit quite loudly considering it was your own breathing emanating from your hoarse throat as your surroundings grew blurry—the stench of your fresh blood which was evidently piling up in the clearing as it stung your sensitive nostrils only serving to make you more lightheaded.

Quick rushes of a shadowy figure filled the frame of your vision, its movements being quiet and discreet as the rushes of rain only served to cloak any possible sound it could potentially produce. Its dashes back and forth only displayed in afterimages for under a millisecond as its speed only served to blind you further, making you question your sanity and whether you were hallucinating this figure. You couldn’t think long, your eyelids began to droop as you grew light from the cold engulfing you, along with the loss of blood growing exponentially and spinning your surroundings like a globe.

Thud.

Of course. It wasn’t long before your body rocked forward, slamming against the ground as blood pooled below you and patched the once spotless cloth of your shirt stuck to your skin a deep crimson. The grass below you steeled red as the tip of each green blade had a thick red gradient brushed along it. You guess that this was perhaps the end of your story. Succumbing to the cold and your wounds was the fate life had in store for you. And just like that—you relaxed yourself against the grass, rainwater thudding against the back of your limp frame sprawled out against the ground.

…

That was until your eyes shot open.

Blinking open your eyes, you found yourself weighed down by a thick blanket spread out over you, sinking you down into the mattress until your chest. The dim, golden light briefly provided a faint light to the vicinity you had awoken in, your bleary vision beginning to focus little by little as you scanned the room. A sudden surge of pain shot through your shoulder as you finally regained most of your consciousness, stinging further at sunken wound gashed onto your arm. Eyes wide, you ripped off the blanket cloaking your arm, your expression growing perplexed at the sight of your burning shoulder carefully wrapped in slightly crumpled bandages.

You breathed out a huff upon feeling a strange itch located above your collarbone, being unable to recall whether you had an injury there or not while you were in the rain. Gentle flickers of warm air rejuvenated your freezing muscles, easing the tension piled up within you. The candle flickering beside you somehow provided a flaring amount of heat for you to be able to move around normally without the hypothermic chill dragging down your body.

Two small indents were imprinted onto your throat, harboring that same itch which was bothering you from the moment you woke up. You swore those deep, tiny holes weren’t there before, raising your suspicion—and distress to a higher degree. You couldn’t help but also wonder the source of the marks on your neck, with the deep nature, along with the way both holes were a convenient distance from each other…it unmistakably resembled a bite. A bite resulting from a pair of fangs maliciously sunken into flesh, desperate for a taste.

Yet despite your conclusion, you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the creature that could’ve attacked you before you were nursed back to health in wherever the hell you were now. Scanning the room, you swallowed back your uncertainty, carefully peeling off the blankets draped over you before hovering your feet over the creaky wooden floors. You set one foot down very slowly, flinching a bit upon hearing the hollow creak of the floorboards ring throughout the vicinity.

Each ghastly ring of the floorboards pressured under your heels with every subsequent step against the floor shrouded your thoughts in a lake of uncertainty, the current sensation of utter trepidation clouding your mind as you wandered aimlessly through the perplexing twists of the hallway. Drops of wax pooled beneath the abundant candles in a small heap, dribbling down the edges they resided upon occasionally along the deep stone of the walls.

Swift afterimages of a cloaked figure mysteriously flicked back and forth in the field of your periphery, your hand instantly darting up to shield your palm along your exposed 'wound.' Swallowing back a heavy lump sunken in your throat, paranoia flooded your senses at the sight of the dark figure which had just swiftly vanished, your gaze flickering to every spotting and corner of the peculiar residence.

"Ah..you're out of bed? I thought your injuries were too awful to even move. Sorry about that, ma’am.”

The sudden feminine voice alerted you in mere moments, heart nearly jumping out of your chest from the wave of shock that overtook every fiber of your body in that instant. You spun around, being met with the perplexed expression of an alluring woman stood before you. Fluffed white hair brushed with blue streaks striped along her hair, complimenting her mismatched azure eyes. Her arms remained folded over her chest firmly as her gaze roamed over you from head to toe, lips pursed together upon it being unclear of whether you were truly well or not. The woman parted her lips to speak, before immediately curling her lip between her teeth to bite back her voice.

Drips of stray water leaked from the crevices of the ceiling, lining along the cobwebs as they dribbled down onto the floor to briefly remedy the silence. The dampening atmosphere surrounding you and the exotic being stood before you tensed your muscles, a smoke of uncertainty circling the two of you as a sort of supernatural force seemed to radiate around her, uneasiness wavering within you in the deafening silence.

“This..is awkward? Where’s the ‘thank you for saving my life?’ I just stopped you from dying and getting potentially mauled out there!” She exclaimed as a breaker, your head shooting up and growing alert to the conversation she had attempted to initiate. “Ah…right. Thank you.” You murmured awkwardly, palm still cupped over the marks slit into your throat. She delivered an over dramatic bow in return, a smug expression scribbled onto her face as she bared her fangs in a grin.

Wait…fangs?

Pausing briefly, you hovered a finger upward, slowly pointing toward her teeth. Indicating the curved ridges protruding from the corners of her teeth, you slithered your tongue to the roof of your mouth cautiously, slowly lowering your hand shielding the bite mark to observe your neck.

It almost identically mirrored the sharpened ends of her fangs.

You drew in a breath, attempting to keep your quivering voice steady as you firmly articulated your concerns before her. “Were you the one who did this..?” You inquired carefully, exposing your neck and allowing the faint lighting to add a reflective luminance against the dried out hollow wounds. She paused, grin immediately shifting to a rather hushed expression as her breath caught in her throat upon the revelation of her feeding on you. Almost in an instant, she defensively snapped back in an argumentative manner.

“Hey! Be glad it wasn’t that it wasn’t some other vampire that found you all sprawled out! I was just thirsty but I treated it after! Anyone else would’ve put you in a stove by now!”

“I’m not upset, calm down…I just wanted to know.” You responded, slightly being put at ease by her anecdote of nursing you back to health in critical condition. It was understandable as to why she’d feed on you, as you had noted behaviors of vampires from what others had told you. Typically, they’re unable to resist the minute they see even a hint of scarlet running along a human’s skin, the most frequent outcome being someone’s mangled body being discovered eventually.

However, this particular vampire didn’t seem to show any of the insatiable hunger emitted off others, and not too interested in hogging all of your blood to herself, merely a sip to quench her thirst. You stood upright and gently grazed your finger along her knuckles, freehand cupped below her wrist to gently push it up.

“You’re being genuine in the fact that you saved me?” You questioned, eyes fixated on her teardrop shaped pupils for any trace of deception. Yet they harbored none. She nodded bashfully, a faint pout contorting her features as well.

“Why would I even go as far as making macaroni for you if I didn’t..?”

“You made macaroni for me?”

“…it was literally on your bedside table are you BLIND?”

Her outburst caught you off guard, yet you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you upon seeing her swiftly whip her gaze away in a faux frustrated fashion. You smiled, taking her hand in yours and causing her to part her lips in surprise.

“Fine..just, come up with me, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly at first, but began to trail directly behind you as you renavigated your path to the room you were in. Raising your eyebrows as you turned around to face her, your hand rested on the doorknob, refraining from clicking open the door in that moment as you spoke up.

“Thank you for saving me, Furina.”

A ghastly quietness buzzed around the two of you, stunning ‘Furina’ into shock, eyes wide as her gaze remained locked onto you. She paused, confusion currently occupying her mind as it made her head fuzzy from the thickness of perplexion overtaking her. Swallowing nervously, she sharpened her tone towards you, eyelids lowering cautiously.

“How do you know my name..? I’ve never told you.”

A/N: im very sorry that I’ve been ending fics on cliffhangers/lazy writing like this bc I really need to focus on school and I’m trying to get these done in a time crunch along with the assignments in the window of time that I actually have to work on them so I’m sorry but I promise when I have free time I will definitely not slack on my fics like I did this one cause I just threw in a shock factor plot twist ending 💔

anyway did u know that I name all fics in my drafts something very interesting before actually coming up with a title just like sprites in game files so this one was named ‘I’m gonna cover myself in garlic everywhere except my kitty’ and holy shit why did I name it that.

[sirxaibs]

Veritas Ratio HSR X Reader

“Stubborn, Stubborn, Stubborn.”

masterlist

You’re apart of the crew and an aspiring scientist. Though focusing in the forensics field to help out on missions.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. You hunched over a cluttered desk inside Herta’s Space Station, scribbling notes that looked more like deciphered codes than legible science. The quiet hum of machinery served as a backdrop to your forced concentration, punctuated every so often by the sharp scratch of a pen.

Dr. Veritas Ratio sat a few feet away, posture rigid, eyes sharp beneath a veil of bangs, hand flying across the pages of his own leather bound book like a man possessed.

This wasn’t what you imagined when you signed up to “shadow the renowned Dr. Ratio for advanced forensic learning.” You wanted to expand your skills, help the crew better on field missions because for some god forsaken reason, every time you stepped foot on a new planet, you were the one knee deep in clues, bodies, and mysteries no one asked for. It only made sense to sharpen your mind where it counted. days in and Dr. Ratio had barely acknowledged you unless he was critiquing your logic like a middle school science project.

Still, you tried again.

“So,” you started, voice casual, “when you said the neural pathways respond to stimulation, were you implying synaptic frequency increases even without cognitive awareness, or?”

“I was referring,” he interrupted at lightning speed, “to the involuntary oscillation of signal transmissions under external influence, something any second year biologist could tell you. Your phrasing was inaccurate, misleading, and honestly bordering on theoretical idiocy.”

You blinked, stunned into silence not because you were offended, but because his words were fired off like bullets from a gatling gun. You couldn’t even keep up enough to be offended. Still, you smiled, brows raised. “Right… of course. That’s what I meant. Totally.”

He didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge the sarcasm. Just kept writing. You sighed, staring at your notes and trying to find the motivation to continue copying something down about tissue decomposition in altered gravity conditions. But your thoughts were elsewhere specifically: “The brain is a muscle, my ass,” you thought bitterly. “This man is a stick in the mud.”

You tried once more, adjusting your chair just enough to glance at him. “Hey, uh… Ratio?” He didn’t stop writing. “I just wanted to let you know it’s my last day here. The Express is taking off tonight.”

He paused. Pen hovered in midair. For the first time in hours, he turned to look at you. “Then I suppose this is farewell,” he said evenly. “Any mind still desperate to learn more is worth a modicum of effort.” You blinked. That actually sounded… almost like a compliment? “But you remain, unfortunately, idiotic.”

There it was.

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped. “Thanks, I’ll take that as the most affectionate thing you’ve said all week.”

“There is no affection in scientific discourse,” he replied, already back to his book.

You exhaled hard through your nose. There’s no pleasing this man. Still, you gathered your things, slung your bag over your shoulder, and gave him a nod. “Appreciate the time. Really. Maybe next time, I’ll come back knowing enough to offend you less.”

Ratio didn’t look up. “Unlikely, but your optimism is statistically entertaining.”

You paused at the door and gave one last look over your shoulder. No goodbye. Just the steady scratch of pen on paper. Annoying. Insufferable. Condescending. You had plenty of normal conversations with Ruan Mei, Screwllum, even Herta who could be a little unhinged but at least talked like a human being. you couldn’t say you didn’t learn something. Even if you wanted to shove him into a simulation chamber and press “random.”

Sighing, you stepped out of the lab, muttering to yourself, “The man needs a personality transplant. Or at least a nap.” Time to go back to the Astral Express. Hopefully, without being called an idiot in five different academic dialects.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Dr. Veritas Ratio stood alone in the silence of Herta’s Space Station lab, the ambient hum of machinery now a mere background to his thoughts. The room still carried the faint trace of your presence a slightly skewed chair, a half empty data pad left untouched, a worn notebook you used with mismatched doodles and scientific scribbles alike. He stared at the door for longer than he intended after you had left.

“Hmph.” His voice echoed softly in the quiet room, as if irritated by his own lingering stillness.

With a sharp breath, he returned to his seat, flipping open the leather bound journal he had been writing in not his own research logs, but something far more… unwieldy.

A chronicle. An account. An observation. You. You, the girl who barged into his space several days ago claiming she was eager to “learn more about forensics” so she could stop playing amateur detective across the galaxy like some kind of self declared interstellar sleuth. The girl who stood there in front of him bright eyed, annoyingly persistent, armed with nothing but a notepad and a smile that dared him to reject her.

He should have said no. Really. He meant to.

Entry One:

She is insufferably stubborn.

From the moment she entered, she challenged my authority not with words, but with that relentless, aggravating optimism. It’s like trying to teach science to a golden retriever that insists on wagging its tail every time it gets a basic equation right.

She surrounds herself with the imbecile crew of the Astral Express each of them so charmingly flawed that one would need earplugs just to survive a conversation. She listens. She stares at equations like a brain dead dog. if puzzles are worth solving, and when she gets them wrong…

Ratio’s pen slowed for a second.

Entry Three:

I threw a book at her.

She botched a rudimentary breakdown of spatial decay honestly, I still don’t understand how someone confuses atomic diffusion rates with heat based deconstruction and I threw a book at her.

He tapped the end of the pen to the page.

She didn’t cry. Didn’t storm out. She laughed. Actually laughed. Rubbed the back of her head and said, “Should’ve known you’d have better aim than that,” before flipping back to her notes and reworking the entire equation.

Stubborn. Stubborn. Stubborn.

He underlined the word twice.

Entry Five:

She got something right today.

Not just right. Brilliant, actually. She identified a miscalculation in a gravitational bleed pattern I hadn’t even caught yet. I told her it was “adequate.” She beamed like I’d handed her a Nobel Prize.

Ratio exhaled slowly at the memory. There had been more moments like that. More times than he cared to admit where he’d look at her work and see genuine understanding growing like a slow, tenacious weed through cracked pavement.

She was undisciplined. A jumbled mess of deduction and instinct. But she was learning.

He flipped to the last few pages in the book, where neat bullet points were written in his precise hand. Not for himself. For her.

• You need to stop jumping to conclusions without sufficient data.

• Emotion clouds deduction. Maintain detachment until evidence is confirmed.

• Your spatial awareness is strong. Consider pursuing work in trajectory and motion based forensics.

• Your memory recall, while clumsy, is oddly adaptive. You seem to remember patterns more than facts use that.

• Stop doodling in the margins.

And then, written softer, smaller, like it embarrassed him:

• You are better than you think. Just… be better still.

He hadn’t meant to go into so much detail. It was just supposed to be notes. Brief, simple. A few guiding remarks she could use once she returned to playing Sherlock on alien planets. But the longer he spent around her, the more the book filled. He would’ve given it to her. That was the plan. Hand it off as a cold farewell and return to his own work, alone, uninterrupted.

But when she said she was leaving, a strange ache settled in his chest. He had closed the book instead. He told her she was idiotic. That was easier than saying anything else. He wasn’t built for sentiment.

But now, in the sterile quiet of the lab, he opened the book again and stared at the last empty page. His pen hovered for a moment before he wrote:

You were the most tolerable nuisance I’ve encountered.

He closed the book. Folded his arms. And sat there, in silence. Holding the only piece of you he could.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. The Astral Express had settled into its familiar rhythm a quiet lull between the catastrophe that just occurred. You sat in your room, sprawled on your back atop your bed, legs dangling off the side as a small packet of data chips and half doodled notes littered the floor beneath you. The lighting was dim, and soft music played in the background something March had been trying to get everyone into. Bubblegum pop something or other. You didn’t mind it.

Then, your terminal lit up with an incoming call.

Caller ID: Dr. Veritas Ratio

You blinked. Seriously? The last time you’d heard from Ratio was months ago, back when you’d finished your “training” with him at Herta’s Space Station. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t sent a single follow up. Hell, you figured he forgot you existed. Which was fine. He’d called you idiotic more times than you could count. You got the message.

So why the sudden contact? You leaned over, smacked the “Answer” button with your palm, and sat back again, letting the hologram flicker to life. The familiar sight of Ratio appeared sharply dressed, arms crossed, and already mid glare.

“Have all of you completely lost your minds?” he barked.

“Wow, no hello? You’ve really softened over the months,” you drawled, stretching your arms above your head and letting out a long yawn.

Ratio ignored the comment. “You brought it on board. A Stellaron. A living, breathing, ticking time bomb and you you let them install it into the crew roster like it’s a decorative lamp!”

“Not me,” you replied casually. “That was Himeko and Welt’s call. I was too busy teaching March how to tell the difference between a footprint and a crater.”

He leaned closer into the hologram, voice sharp as shattered glass. “And you didn’t stop them?”

You tilted your head, gaze flat. “Ratio, I’ve learned many things in my life. One of which is: you do not argue with Himeko unless you want to be questioning your own sexuality.”

“This is reckless. Irresponsible. Foolhardy. Welt Yang used to be logical.”

“He still is,” you said, picking at a thread in your blanket. “Realistically, this was the safest option.”

“Oh?” Ratio lifted a brow, sarcasm soaking every syllable. “Yes, why not keep the volatile Stellaron host onboard the most advanced dimensional train known to man? Surely the best place for a cosmic disaster seed is inside the space equivalent of a floating museum.”

“See? You do have a heart,” you said, smiling slightly. “You’re worried about us.”

“I’m worried about the structural integrity of your ship, and the illogical stupidity of a crew that includes people like well, like you.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Ratio scowled. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

You rolled onto your side, cheek pressed to your pillow, gaze on the projection of his furious form pacing like a scientist on the edge of an aneurysm. “No, I am. I just also live on a train that is fully capable of going against the Antimatter Legion, hunted by robots, and now has an amnesiac walking stellar bomb with a winning smile and a personality March immediately adopted like a stray puppy. You’ll excuse me if I conserve my panic energy.”

Ratio paused, folding his arms. “You’ve grown bolder.”

“You called me idiotic for a week straight. I had to evolve or die.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly so softly you barely caught it he muttered

You blinked, eyebrows lifting. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Still. You would be wise to proceed with caution. The Stellaron may not act today or tomorrow, but entropy is inevitable. One misstep, and it could unravel every layer of existence you so casually nap on.”

You smiled lazily. “I missed your bedtime stories.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You called me.”

Ratio paused. For a flicker of a second, his expression shifted barely visible, like a crack in marble. Thoughtful. Frustrated. Maybe even… hesitant. “you have a brain. And I don’t like seeing it wasted.” He gestured vaguely in your direction. “You’re tolerable when you’re being cautious.”

“And you’re tolerable when you’re not actively trying to kill me with a migraine.”

The hologram began to glitch slightly signal fading as the Express entered another sector.

Ratio’s voice cut through one last time before the line ended: “Just don’t get comfortable. You may not always have time to brace for the explosion.”

Then the screen blinked to black. You sat there, the weight of his words hanging in the room like smoke.

“…Still didn’t say goodbye,” you murmured, grabbing your tea and taking a slow sip. You weren’t worried.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Herta’s Space Station was bustling with its usual polite chaos researchers skittering around with datapads too big for their hands, drones zipping above heads, experiments sparking in sealed chambers. The scent of metal and burnt circuitry lingered faintly in the air. A strangely nostalgic aroma, really.

You had come here for one reason and one reason only: to visit Screwllum. The robotic genius had promised to show you a new forensic simulation model, one that could track theoretical blood spatter in zero gravity. You were deeply interested, and by “deeply interested,” you meant giddy like a child with a crime scene coloring book.

You weren’t expecting to see him. Not as you rounded the corner of the central archive, passing Herta’s projection arguing with itself, and almost bumped headfirst into a tall figure already ranting at a researcher over some miscalculation involving quantum probability flow.

“Dr. Ratio,” you breathed, blinking once.

He turned toward you slowly. You immediately put your hands over your mouth, gasped dramatically, and staggered back a step. If he gets to ghost you, why cant you have fun yourself?

“Veritas? Is it really you?” you cried, voice shaking like a widow in a play. “The universe said you were lost to the abyss of academia, never to be seen again! I we I waited so long!”

Ratio stared at you, expression unreadable but very much unimpressed. “You’re being absurd.”

“Absurdly in love,” you swooned, grabbing his arm with faux desperation. “I swore I’d wait, no matter how long the stars turned. You you arrogant bastard you came back.”

“Stop being ridiculous,” he replied flatly. “Ill have you know that if you even tried i would’ve answered. You were simply too busy pretending to be a detective on every rock you stumbled across.”

“not one letter. Not one call. Do you have any idea how I’ve suffered? Ive missed my stuck up asshole of a husband”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were messaging Screwllum memes less than twelve hours ago.”

You blinked. “Screwllum loves my memes. Don’t derail me trying to make you look like a bad husband.”

“I should’ve let you fail the entropy unit,” he muttered, brushing your hands off like you were a particularly annoying layer of dust.

You laughed, arms crossing over your chest. “Still as insufferable as ever, Ratio. You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

Ratio returned to his datapad. “If by ‘welcome’ you mean ‘tolerated,’ then yes. I remain consistent.”

There was a beat of silence. The usual static hum of the station pulsed around you. You tilted your head slightly, observing him not just as a former mentor or your favorite verbal sparring partner, but as someone you honestly missed.

You stepped a little closer, voice dropping. “Hey… could we catch up a bit?”

He paused. His fingers hovered over the datapad. Just for a second. Then, slowly, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“why”

You smiled. “Ok big guy is asking the questions, I suppose I just want to see how you’re doing.”

Ratio’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk. “I suppose… some minds are worth the occasional recalibration.”

“Is that your way of saying ‘yes’?”

“It’s my way of saying you’re still stubborn and prone to foolishness but slightly less irritating than most of the imbeciles I suffer daily.”

You beamed. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Ratio glanced away, resuming his work. “Don’t get sentimental.”

But you saw the way his posture shifted less tense, a fraction more open.

📜🪶𓍢ִ໋🀦✎ᝰ. Ratio’s quarters were exactly what you expected and somehow even more Ratio than you thought possible.

Minimalist, sterile, everything arranged with sharp symmetry almost clinical, like the man had tried to recreate a science lab in the shape of a bedroom. The lighting was dim, a soft overhead hue that neither strained the eyes nor dared to be comforting. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, but not a single one looked even slightly out of place. His desk had no dust, no loose wires, no snacks just data pads, models, papers arranged in brutal harmony. despite all the perfect order, there was something kind of… homey about it. Or maybe you were just losing your mind. Probably the latter.

“I’ll return shortly,” he said earlier, stepping out with a brief mention of fetching something from Screwllum or threatening Herta’s projection into silence you weren’t sure which. His voice was already vanishing down the hall as you nodded absently, too curious about seeing this inner sanctum of his to stop him.

Which is how you ended up alone in the room and your eyes landed on the book. You hadn’t seen it since your time as his reluctant partner slash student slash mental punching bag. Leather bound, its corners slightly worn, it sat there on the desk like it had been placed just for you to find it. An artifact of a past so recent it still itched under your skin. You told yourself to leave it alone. You didn’t. Fingers brushed the cover. You opened it.

The first few pages were filled with sharp, scathing commentary written in Ratio’s precise, aggressively legible handwriting. Your early days of working together where you barely kept up and made mistakes that, according to him, “required divine intervention to unsee.” You scoffed, flipping forward.

There were notes, not just about your blunders, but about what you’d done right. Diagrams you’d drawn that he’d annotated, not with insults, but improvement suggestions. Questions you’d asked that he’d praised though usually in the most begrudging tone imaginable.

You flipped further. Dates from after your training had ended appeared.

She let that walking disaster <Stelle> on board. Of course she did. Her loyalty to the crew is stronger than her self preservation. Idiotic.

…Though, if she’s the one monitoring it, perhaps there’s hope it won’t implode immediately.

Your brows lifted. Another entry, this time sloppier, less rigid:

Saw her solve a multi layer deduction test from Ruan Mei’s simulation. Beat the projection time by five minutes. Either she’s improving rapidly… or cheating. I doubt the latter. Annoying. Impressive.

And then:

You were the most tolerable nuisance I’ve encountered.

You stared at that line for a long time, blinking. Your heart gave the smallest traitorous flutter. Ratio? Writing that down? In his own personal notes? Voluntarily?

“Veritas Veritas Veritas,” you whispered, amused, letting the book rest gently on the desk again, “you’re so down bad and you don’t even know it.”

You glanced around the room with new eyes now. Not just a workspace. There were signs of you scattered in the margins things you’d said that he’d scribbled down verbatim, questions you’d asked, observations you’d made. There, in this sterile haven of knowledge, you existed. When the door slid open again with that same low mechanical hiss, you didn’t turn immediately. You kept your hands at your sides, innocent, as Ratio entered holding a datapad and a cup of something that definitely wasn’t coffee.

He raised an eyebrow.

“You moved things,” he said bluntly.

You turned, grinning. “I breathed in here. Hope that’s not too much.”

Ratio’s eyes zeroed in on the open book like a hawk spotting a wounded animal. The datapad in his hand made a dull thud as he dropped it to the desk beside you.

“You read it,” he said, voice low, clipped. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact delivered like an accusation.

You opened your mouth, but he was already moving, closing the book in one motion that was more violent than necessary. His eyes flicked to you, sharp with something between irritation and disbelief. “That book was for me. My documentation. My evaluations. Not for you to comb through like some sentimental schoolgirl with a crush.”

You just raised your hands a little in mock surrender. “Okay, first of all ow. Second, maybe don’t leave emotionally repressed love letters in plain sight if you don’t want them read.”

His scowl deepened. “You are not the center of my notes. You were a case study in irritating persistence.”

You smiled. “A tolerable nuisance, if I remember correctly.”

“I regret ever writing that.”

“You do not.”

Ratio looked like he was about to snap again, but your tone shifted before he could. A little more sincere this time. Less teasing.

“Look, before you combust into quantum dust or something, I’ve been doing the same thing. Kind of.”

That made him blink. His arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched.

You shrugged. “Whenever there was news. Whenever Screwllum or Herta mentioned something cool you did. Whenever you published something with Ruan Mei. I’d log it in a little virtual journal. Notes, quotes, observations. Even drew a diagram of your frustrated face once. It was very detailed.”

“You tracked my activity?” His voice was dry with disbelief.

“Kept tabs,” you corrected. “I mean, you did teach me how to observe patterns and record data. I thought it’d be fun to apply it to you.”

Ratio stared at you. Hard.

You grinned again, stepping closer now, just into his space, enough to make him instinctively stiffen. “So, if you like me so much, Veritas…” you tilted your head, voice dipping into a teasing lilt, “it doesn’t have to stay theoretical.”

The room went dead silent. Ratio’s eye twitched.

“I do not like you.”

You leaned back with a smug hum, hands slipping behind your back. “Sure. That’s why you wrote, ‘perhaps there’s hope it won’t implode immediately.’ About me and the crew.”

“That was in reference to the logistical risk of hosting a walking bomb, not an emotional attac—”

“You said impressive, Ratio.”

“I said annoying right before.”

You shrugged. “And still impressive.”

Ratio turned away from you, muttering curses under his breath in a tone too quiet to catch. But he didn’t tell you to leave. Didn’t shove you out or erase his notes or block access to his quarters. Instead, he sat, flipped open a new file on his datapad, and typed exactly three words

Emotional interference: persistent.

You laughed as you settled in across from him.

“Glad I’m still in your data set.”

[scienceisdope]

Scientists Made An Artificial "Cloud" That Pulls Electricity From Air.

The secret is tiny holes.

Taking a hint from the magician’s playbook, scientists have devised a way to pull electricity from thin air. A new study out today suggests a method in which any material can offer a steady supply of electricity from the humidity in the air.

All that’s required? A pair of electrodes and a special material engineered to have teeny tiny holes that are less than 100 nanometers in diameter. That’s less than a thousandth of the width of a human hair.

Here’s how it works: The itty-bitty holes allow water molecules to pass through and generate electricity from the buildup of charge carried by the water molecules, according to a new paper published in the journal Advanced Materials.

The process essentially mimics how clouds make the electricity that they release in lightning bolts.

Because humidity lingers in the air perpetually, this electricity harvester could run at any time of day regardless of weather conditions — unlike somewhat unreliable renewable energy technologies such as wind and solar.

“The technology may lead to truly ‘ubiquitous powering’ to electronics,” senior study author Jun Yao, an electrical engineer at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, tells Inverse.

Source bit.ly/43SmPds

[vrs-culdesac]

Introducing: Vijay

Meet the second character of “Lightning,” my original novel - Vijay Inaiyanan!

Age: 22 Pronouns: He/him/his Height: 167 cm (or) 5'5” Weight: 70 kg (or) 154 lbs Current concern: His bike keeps making a weird noise when he brakes, and he has no idea what it is.

His favourite food is masala dosai. He writes in his free time, and he can cook too many things for his own comfort.

Check out Vijay’s character playlist here:

Tiny note from the author: Vijay is meant to give an unreadable vibe, because he tends to be a bit unpredictable. However, he’s pragmatic and reliable when he has to be.

(P.S: his birthday is the 5th of October.)

[gillsoffish]

yall ever think about shit like albinism on cybertronians? albino seekers, melanistic insecticons, tri colored bots with vitiligo or melasma on their faceplate. or even those marks some people get when they survive lightning.

this kinda ties into my head cannon that most cybertronians paint themselves different then their natural paint colors. most would have only one or two colors apart from their bio lights. mechs with three or more natural paint colors are pretty rare so you dont usually see certain conditions and such because there covered by cosmetics.

of course I'm thinking about Starscream I'm sorry i have to make everything about him. i like to think he's naturally tri colored and doesn't wanna do anything to his frame cosmetically apart from normal maintenance. his metal around his helm and his faceplate is a pretty dark grey so his paint sticks out, you would be able to see if he had anything like splotches or "stretch marks" which in cybertronians i would think is from growing and the paint now growing back fast enough but there not permanent and can be buffed out. i wonder if the separate colors would be crisp lines or if they might blend on some mechs. I just love thinking about it

AND THINK ABOUT SHATTER4ED GLASS STARSCREAM HES ALMOST ALL WHITE. mf has albinism and he likes to give himself touches of paint to look all nice. maybe is the same on cybertronians as it is on humans where there more sensitive to sunburns and light? someone please tell me there own thoughts and ideas

[simpfordemetri]

Twilight Garrett with a mate who was turned by one of The Cullens, she turns out to be related to Jasper and the female reader is his great neice- it turns out she can't drink animal blood, she just simply allergic to it. So when he meets her , he gets into a protective stance and when he finds out what's happening, he offers to take care of her.

“A Hunger That Burns”

Pairing: Garrett x Female Reader

The Thirst Was Killing You.

It has been since you woke up as a vampire.Making you miserable.

You sat curled up on the couch in the Cullens’ living room, your knees drawn to your chest. The hunger clawed at you, a burning ache that wouldn’t go away. You had tried, God, you had tried to follow their way of life—to drink animal blood, to control yourself. But every time you did, your body rejected it.

Carlisle had been studying your condition for weeks, trying to understand why animal blood made you feel like you were being poisoned. It left you shaking, your body rejecting it the way a human might reject spoiled food.

Jasper lingered nearby, watching you with quiet concern. You were his great-niece, a distant blood relative, and that fact alone had softened his usual restraint. He didn’t coddle, but he worried.

“I don’t know what to do” you admitted, voice hoarse. “It’s getting worse.”

Jasper’s jaw tensed. He could feel your suffering, the hunger burning so fiercely inside you that it made his own instincts stir. “We’ll figure it out” he said firmly. “Carlisle’s trying.”

But that wasn’t enough. You needed blood.

Real blood.

And no one wanted to say it out loud.No one wanted to admit the true nature of vampire feeding.

However there was this nomad,Garrett.An old friend of Carlisle,and who hates the British.

Garrett had come out of curiosity—he had heard whispers of an odd newborn, one with ties to The Cullen’s, about a vampire with an unnatural reaction to animal blood. But what he hadn’t expected was the instant, gut-punching sensation that hit him when his eyes landed on you.

You.

The little newborn curled up on the couch, looking so miserable and starving.

His mate.

The realization struck him like lightning. His entire body went rigid, instincts roaring to life. The urge to protect you, to fix whatever the hell was wrong, surged through him so intensely that he was already moving before he processed it.

Jasper tensed the second Garrett’s posture changed, stepping subtly in front of you. His eyes narrowed in warning.

“Relax,Jasper” Garrett muttered, though his own muscles were coiled tight. “I’m not here to start a fight.”

“You’re looking at her like you own her.” Jasper shot back.

Garrett didn’t deny it. His eyes flickered to you, scanning your tired face, the dark circles under your eyes, the way your hands clenched around yourself like you were barely holding on.

“What’s wrong with her?” His voice was sharp, demanding answers.

Edward, sitting in the corner with Bella, sighed heavily. “She can’t stomach animal blood” he said.

Garrett frowned. “What?”

“It makes me sick” you admitted, meeting his gaze for the first time. Your breath hitched slightly, the pull between you both clicking into place. His eyes widened slightly. He felt it, too.

That changed everything.

Garrett’s protective stance deepened. “Then why the hell are you starving her?”

“She doesn’t want to kill anyone” Carlisle answered calmly,as always

Garrett scoffed. “That’s the problem? She’s fighting what she is?”

“It’s not that simple” Jasper snapped. “We don’t kill humans.”

Garrett ran a frustrated hand through his hair, eyes flickering between you and Jasper. “She’s a newborn, Jasper.She’s dying. You’re asking her to fight an instinct she physically can’t ignore.”

Your hands curled into fists. You knew he was right, but the idea of hurting someone, of crossing that line, terrified you. You had wanted to do this the Cullens’ way—to prove you could live their life.

But at what cost?

Garrett’s face softened slightly as he looked at you. “Come with me,I’ll take care of you” he said simply. “You need real blood, and I’m not about to sit here and watch you waste away trying to deny it.”

The room went tense.Jasper’s shoulders squared. “She’s not going to be a killer.”

Garrett rolled his eyes. “I never said she had to be. We can find a way,there is always one. Hospitals, blood banks—hell, I’ve even fed on criminals before. There are ways to survive without massacres.”

That caught everyone off guard.

“You—you don’t kill?” you asked hesitantly.Garrett smirked. “Not unless they deserve it.”

For the first time in weeks, hope flickered inside you. Maybe—maybe—you didn’t have to starve. Maybe there was another way.

“I don’t like this….solution”Jasper admitted, his voice tight.

“I don’t care” Garrett shot back. “She’s mine.”

A growl rumbled in Jasper’s throat, but Garrett held his ground, unwavering. He wasn’t taking you—he was saving you.And deep down, Jasper knew it.

You stood up slowly, legs shaky. You felt lightheaded, weak. Garrett immediately reached out, steadying you with careful hands. The second he touched you, a wave of calm warmth spread through your body.

“…Okay” you whispered.Garrett smiled, something almost relieved crossing his face.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart” He promised,giving you a soft smile,his arm resting on your shoulders.

And you,believed it.

[musicalmixed]

Somthing I will never stop thinking about is how that Athena probably never had any real relationships outside of Odysseus and Telemachus.

The gods are a fucked up family, and if you look through a more human lens, they are an extremely toxic environment that festers because most of them don’t know better or aren’t willing to leave. Athena is her father’s favorite, but she doesn’t seem to have any real relationship with her siblings, and her relationship with Zeus could be a post of its own, but I’ll just classify it as “Narcissistic Father and “Perfect” Daughter he projects on”.

Even subconsciously, she longs for companionship, but with no proper knowledge of friendship, she thinks she needs to mentor someone, teach them, and she needs to be respected by them the same way her father is respected.

Then, she comes along a hero who she gets close with, who she cares for in her own way, one who reaches out to her with friendship. Even though she wants the friendship, she has been pretty much conditioned to rely on no one, so she refuses to refer to him as such. Still, small trickles of love come through, and Athena gets comfortable enough to let her guard down slightly….

but then they have an argument and she feels something cracking inside her, and she leaves, his words ringing in her ears. She tries to convince herself she was right, but the longer she stays away and the more she observes mortals, Athena realizes she misses him. But he’s gone, and no one is able to find him-

Then, she meets her boy’s son. A kid who smiles softly and speaks with childish excitement, who is both a mirror of Odysseus and not him at all, a boy she held once as a baby.

His father is lost, and Athena defends the boy while remembering how Odysseus protected his friends(had been willing to protect her) and she lets her guard completely down for the first time, mourning and gloomy.

Then, the boy comforts her, calls her friend, and she is faced with the fact that history is repeating itself. This time, though, she accepts the title. She accepts her softness.

THIS is why she fought so hard for Odysseus to be freed! This is why she found the strength to continue even after the lightning struck her!

She had failed her friend once, pushing away the kindness in a way that mirrored her father.

She refused to fail him again, and refused to fail the little boy waiting for him at home.

[lost-pen-name]

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You were about to leave Tom’s suite when a heavy rainstorm started. Not wanting to risk trying to drive in such poor conditions, you grabbed your stuff from your car, returned back to his door, and asked if you could stay the night. He, begrudgingly, obliged and allowed you to stay in the guest bedroom.

Genre: Fluff, cuddling, comfort

Word count: 2176

Warnings: none

{ you came? you called. }

You were sitting alone in bed, trembling like a leaf, when the power went out in Tom Ryder’s house.

The light flickered for a moment before going out completely, along with the rest of all things electrical. The house was unsettlingly quiet and felt off without the hum of the fridge or air conditioner.

Lightning crackled outside. You pushed yourself a bit out of bed, debating on the idea to go look for Tom, just so you wouldn’t have to be alone. But that would mean leaving the safety of your room.

“Tom?” you called out instead. You looked back at the large window across the bedroom. Even with the curtains drawn, light flashed across the room sporadically.

Farther across the house, you swore you could hear someone moving around. Your heart pounded and you waited, holding your breath, hoping it was Tom coming to check on you. You just needed to know another human existed right now.

There was a THUD and a curse that came after. It sounded like it came from farther down the hall.

A second later you heard an “Oi, what happened?” That familiar voice came from your doorway and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You breathed a sigh of relief and swiped at an unshed tear. You prayed your voice won’t have too much desperation in it. “You came.”

“What? Of course I did. A woman screams my name out in the middle of the freaking night, I’d be crazy not to come.” He sounds agitated and tired but you don’t care, you’re just clinging to the fact that there’s someone here now. “Why’d you call for me? I hope you know I almost died on the way over here. The power’s out, I can’t see a bloody thing.”

Lightning lit up the room and you caught a glance at Tom Ryder standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of loose fitting sweatpants. A series of thunderclaps shot an arrow of anxiety through the bubble of thought of how gorgeous he looked even at 1am.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe deeply. “I... I didn’t want to be alone. Not with this storm raging outside.” You gestured towards the window just as thunder booms again.

You heard him sigh. “What am I supposed to do, crawl into bed with you?”

The idea of having someone close to you overpowers all the reason in your brain screaming at you that this wasn’t good for your business relationship. The fear of being alone in this storm trumped all rational thoughts.

“Could you? Even just for a bit?” you said.

There’s a moment of silence before you hear his footsteps and he’s at the side of your bed. You look up at him and gulp. Maybe this was a dumb thing to ask.

“Fine. But give me some blanket.” Without another word, he’s on the bed, crawling into the covers. His bare feet touched yours for a brief moment before you quickly moved your body far away that side of the bed.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care. You watched him as he shifted around, getting the pillow right for him, the blanket pulled a bit over to his side before he relaxed and breathed heavily.

You can feel your heart hitting against your chest painfully and you don’t know if that’s now entirely because of the storm or if it had anything to do with sharing a bed with Tom.

He breaks the silence. “I called Gail, asked her what the whole situation is about the power and all that.” You see him wave his hands around as he talks. “She said it’ll take a few hours, maybe even ‘til morning before we get any power back. So, we’re in it for the long run.”

That was longer than you had hoped but you guessed you should’ve expected it to take that long. “Okay,” is all you can manage to get out through your tight throat.

You both grow quiet again. The awkwardness of this all keeps hitting you so you break the silence. You twisted your head to look at him. “Sorry, I know this is kind of weird.”

“Yeah, well,” he said dryly, “it’s mainly weird because I didn’t need to know how many stuffies my employee has. How old are you again?”

You’re dumbfounded. He’s choosing now to judge you? And for what, bringing in the small stuffie collection you had in your car? That was so like him. It was oddly both reassuring to have the normalcy and frustrating. “You’re such a jerk, Tom Ryder,” you said.

Quiet. Then an indignant harrumph. The blankets shifted and you felt the mattress dip as he pushed himself off. “Well, fine, if that’s how you’re going to treat me.”

You rolled over to his side of the bed, trying to ignore how nice and warm it was. “Wait!” You grabbed his hand before he went too far. “Tom, wait, please don’t go.”

He peered over his shoulder at you. “Make me.”

Your heart sank a bit. There he goes again, always with the attitude. “Well, you’re kinda proving my point here,” you whispered under your breath.

“What was that?” He turned fully around and squinted down at you.

Goodness gracious, he kinda does look glorious standing there, his bare chest making it hard to formulate sentences, his usual strategically tousled hair ruffled and unkempt. And he doesn’t seem to notice you’re still gripping onto his hand, not that you mind. It’s hot and rougher than you expected from a privileged celebrity.

Thunder claps interrupt your ogling and a nervous ripple hits you. The anxiety might’ve left for a bit but the thought of Tom leaving you alone again with the storm sends all of the worry back into you.

“I didn’t actually mean that, you know that. I was joking around,” you said. Your free hand clutches at the covers.

“I come in here and, and, what? I’m being incredibly nice to you and you insult me as a joke?” His tone carried a bit of a whine to it.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You inhale and exhale with a quiet and quick, “pleasedon’tgo.”

His frown softened and he glanced down at our hands entwined. Lightning danced across the room for a moment, lighting up the room enough for you to spy the smallest smile from him.

You gaped at him. What did you say that earned you a gentle smile from THE Tom Ryder?

Before you can think about it too much, he sighed and leaned down to get back into bed. “Hey, scoot over.”

You let go of his hand and moved back over to your side of the bed.

He fell into the covers and put his arms behind his head, cushioning his head on them. He sighed again. “You absolutely should be grateful, you know.”

“I am,” you whispered.

Thunder booms, closer than any of the other times and you winced. Your breathing is becoming too fast, too irregular.

Tom turned on his side, angling his body to face you. “You’re really scared of storms then?” His usual condescending tone is gone. It’s replaced with something softer.

You nodded, even though he probably can’t see it in the dark, and pulled the covers up to your chin. “Ever since I was a little kid.”

He made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Do you know why?”

“No. I just get anxious whenever there’s a storm. I can never go to sleep when there’s one happening.” You closed your eyes and put a hand on your chest, trying, willing yourself to just breathe normally.

A huge series of thunder crashes outside and the house shudders, breaking off any thoughts you had. Your body reacted in an almost fight or flight instinct. Without even stopping to think, you slid further into bed and towards Tom, pressing your body against his, your face and his pecs aligned. Your hand wrapped around his arm and you squeezed your eyes closed, praying that the noise will come an end. It sounds like the grand finale of the thunderstorm, like the storm is proud of this last act and wants to show to the world just as loud and powerful it can be. The heat coming from Tom’s body and the solidness of him is the only thing tethering you and keeping you from going too far over the edge.

Finally, it’s quiet. You panted and opened your eyes. His flesh is the only thing in your vision. Your eyes focused on a freckle on his chest and there’s a small part of you that has the urge to kiss it. A blush creeped up with your neck. You realized your nails are digging into his arm and you snatched your hands away.

You can not believe you just freaked out and clung to your boss. In bed. This had to be against so many employer-employee work ethics. If this doesn’t get you fired, you don’t know what will.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, sitting up and starting to push yourself back away from him.

His hand shot out and stopped in your tracks. “No,” he said thickly.

Just... “no?” You have no clue what that meant. He’s probably angry at you now or thinks you’re even more childish, reacting like a baby koala clinging to her mother just because of some storm. With a sinking feeling, you overcome your fear of whatever you might see on his face when you look at him and glanced over at him.

Even in the dark, you can tell his expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen in the months you’ve worked under him.

That was not what you were expecting.

“What did you do about these storms when I wasn’t here?” His voice is low, almost stern.

You pushed your hair back awkwardly. “I don’t know, wait it out? Hide under my covers? When my sister stays at my place sometimes, she’ll calm me down.”

“And how does she do that?”

You swallowed hard. What is he thinking? What is he planning to do with this information? “She holds me until it’s long over.”

Tom’s hand tightened a bit at that. You looked down at it on your arm, you had almost forgotten it was there.

“Well.” He sniffed loudly. “Come here then.” He let go of you and opened his arms, like he’s welcoming you to a hug. The most muscle toned and chiseled hug ever.

Your heart pounded. “You really don’t have to do that, you’ve done more than enough. And the storm sounds like it’s almost over.”

“If your sister does it until the storm is completely over, then I’m going to do it better and do it all night.” He waved a hand in exasperation. “I’ll feel like a heroic knight saving a princess. So stop being stubborn and come here.”

His words are said so easily but the weight of them hits you like a brick. Sure, he always likes being better than everyone and doesn’t like being beaten at anything.

But this was excessive, even for him.

And somehow, in a weird way, it was sweet.

Not knowing what else to do but listen to him, you awkwardly scoot closer to him. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you in, forcing your body to be pressed against his and closing whatever distance you had. Now your head is next to his pecs again, his strong arms around you, cocooning you in. His skin is warm and you can faintly hear his heartbeat. It’s a steady pulse, its gentle rhythm is calming to you. You can feel his chest as he inhales and exhales and you start to match his breathing.

The world has calmed. You feel calm. And safe, surprisingly. Safe and secure with the world’s hottest superstar but to you, a flawed man you’re slowly beginning to realize you enjoy spending time with. Maybe you’re starting to like him, not just tolerate him.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said quietly as you stared up at the ceiling.

He shifted slightly and you feel his sigh ruffle your hair. “Mhmm.” It’s just a sound but it sounded like an audible shrug, like he didn’t think you meant it.

You smiled softly and closed your eyes. “No, really. This is helping. So thank you.”

His chin nestled in your hair as he got comfortable. “Whatever, I’m glad to help.”

Did he sound embarrassed? You grinned bigger. “You’re the best boss ever. You’re like... my hero, my knight in shining sweatpants.”

He groaned. “Now you’re laying it a touch too thick. Be quiet now, I’m trying to sleep.”

You covered your mouth with your hand and laughed quietly. “Okay, okay, goodnight, Tom.”

He murmured a goodnight and pulled you in further, his legs wrapped around yours, practically hugging you like you’re a body pillow. It’s nice. Really really nice.

You smiled again and leaned into the hug.

Okay, maybe you do kinda like him.