#Battery Parts & Chemicals

[fancyfeathers]

Hey Fancy! Apologies if this is a wee bit long but it’s a random platonic yandere Batfam idea I’ve had for a long time. Adopted daughter who becomes an investigative journalist. (With Outlast crossover)

Darling was a product of one of Bruce’s affairs and he never really cared, he paid child support and that’s about it. Darling didn’t care as she and her mother were happy together until they weren’t. Darling’s mother starts to have to work longer hours, coming back more and more hollow until there’s nothing left but her corpse. Darling had a gut feeling her mom died because her mom’s boss was cutting corners in safety at some chemical plant and forcing long hours on workers. 

Of course darling has to go to her father’s house now and live with him (I imagine she was adopted a year before Jason died) after a week she’s asked if she wants to become Robin to which she refuses. She wants to fight the criminals who act as altruists, such as corrupt leaders and politicians, companies who have blood on their hands but hide it, because that’s the hero who could save her mom. Bruce accepts this but the family just seems to forget her. Not out of maliciousness, except for Damien, they just don’t have time for a non-vigilante sibling. She feels alone and when Tim and then Damien are welcomed into the family they neglect her too. Damien even mocks her for being useless. The only family she had there is Alfred, as he made sure to care for darling whenever s he could. 

When darling turns 18, she gets out of that house and goes to a university to study journalism. She becomes an investigative journalist who gained her reputation for going deep into the depths of corruption’s depravity and meets this one dude named Miles Upshur who she becomes partners with as they both are freelance journalists because they don’t censor the truth. They get an email one day telling them about messed up things happening at Mount Massive asylum.

They both go and cue the events of the game Outlast and Outlast Whistleblower. I’m not sure if you are comfortable with the contents of those games so I summarize it by saying the patients were being experimented on and broke free causing Miles to get trapped in the asylum with no way to fight back. He only has places to hide and a camera with night vision that drains his batteries. He gets very injured and Whistleblower is the same concept as it’s the same place but from the perspective of the one who sent the email. I imagine the darling was somehow separated from miles but ended up getting out of there with the whistleblower.

She took the footage and instead of letting the whistleblower release it, as the company begging the asylum would hunt him and his wife and kids down, she would be the one as her reputation precedes her. But after dropping the whistleblower off at his home she has no choice but to go to her old one, cause if the company couldn’t ruin her reputation, could just silence her like they did with everyone else. The batfam is going to be very confused when a freshly traumatized, bloody,and bruised darling shows up on their front porch, clutching camcorders to her chest like a lifeline. Who knows, they might just not let her out if this is how she ends up after being on her own.

again really sorry if this is weird or too long! It’s just been brewing in my brain and I needed to share it

God it’s been forever since I played Outlast, I don’t remember everything about the game cause I was screaming and crying for the most part and I literally could only watch Whistleblower and had to skip some stuff

This might not be entirely game accurate cause it has been a hot minute but I will do my best

I do not think Bruce would be exactly neglectful especially since this is yandere content and obsession starts when they normally meet their darling, like a root that takes hold and begins to grow after certain events. I imagine that her mom did not want her daughter to meet Bruce cause she thought he would not be a good influence, the whole billionaire playboy persona. She raised her daughter on her own until her death, her daughter can remember sitting in the hospital when the doctor told her that she was dead, died of radium poisoning, her body decaying while she was still alive.

She remembers sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, waiting after the staff called her biological father to pick her up, a nurse sitting with her. She knew why her mother did not want her to meet her, but her mother was wrong to an extent. She honestly expected someone like Alfred to pick her up, who she knew because he would meet with her mother for fund related affairs since she did not want her daughter knowing her father…

But Bruce was the one who picked her up, in fact he practically came running when he got the call from the hospital when he was at a gala.

When Bruce came into the hospital waiting room, he kneeled down to her level and took her little hands in his, he felt so sorry for not knowing, he could have helped, but for now what he can tell her is…

“Everything will be okay, I’ll keep you safe.”

Bruce is not intentionally neglectful, he really does try his best, but between being Batman and handling his daily affairs as Bruce Wayne he just does not have the time besides to have meals with her. He does keep her safe, puts a tracker in her bag or jacket in case anything goes wrong, but as if something will go wrong while she is playing soccer after school.

Dick is also probably very busy as well to give her much attention but he is pretty similar to Bruce in the way that he cares but he just does not have the time to now that he is Nightwing. He occasionally takes her out to do things, and he apologizes for not being able to spend more time with her, but he is just so busy.

Her and Jason are probably the closest, he is her big brother in his eyes. He helps her transition into her new home the most, making pillow forts, playing video games, taking her out to play in the snow. Then one morning she comes downstairs to see Alfred looking so solemn and Bruce sitting in an armchair in the living room, his head in his hands and still in the Batman suit, but no sign of Jason…

“Dad?”

She knows something is wrong so she hugs Bruce and it is the first time she sees him cry, he hugs her back, as if scared to let her go… but that is because he is.

“Oh sweetheart… I am so sorry.”

He was going to ask her to be a Robin one day, Jason would not have the mantle forever since after all Dick didn’t, but now he can’t stand the idea of loosing her, so he’ll keep her safe, even if that means keeping her at an arms length.

I think after Jason’s death he would probably send her to boarding school in a safer city like Metropolis or boarding school in a small town with next to no crime rate. It breaks his heart to send her away like that, but it is what keeps her alive. She comes home on the holidays and breaks but there is just an aura about the house now that Jason is gone, a constant state of sadness and as if a hand is holding onto her, which is fair because when she is home she isn’t allowed off of the manor grounds, Gotham is just too dangerous. That doesn’t mean they make more time for her, no her summers and holidays are just as lonely as they were before, only this time she is isolated from the outside world and left lonely by her own family.

Tim is similar to Dick in the way that he feels bad but does not make much of an effort to spend more time with her, even less so than Dick does. He only texts her every now and then so show he somewhat cares and talks with her at family meals, but that’s it.

Then there is Damian, she cannot stand him. She knows he grew up entitled in the League of Assassins but he cannot even pretend to be nice. He talks to her as if she is beneath him, despite the fact that when he is brought into the manor she is a senior in high school.

“No wonder you never became Robin, why would father let the most useless child even-“

“Damian, that is enough!”

Luckily Bruce or Alfred normally intervenes and defuses the situation before Damian says something too extreme.

Then she graduates high school and moves on to university, which Bruce pays for in full without hesitation. It is there in university that she meets her partner in crime, Miles Upshur. They are practically joined at the hip and then when that first finals come around and their project is to do a mock investigation and article and they get to choose a topic to do it on and then Miles asked her…

“Hey, what do ya want to do this on? Lexcorp? Abuse in the ballet industry? Maybe-“

“The radium scandal in the Gotham City Chemical Plant.”

“That’s oddly specific, why?”

“It’s how my mom died.”

And that’s how everything started with their chosen path of investigation. They graduate and the two of them even get photos in their graduate robes and degrees together. Her family comes, which an empty seat to honor Jason, despite him watching from a back doorway, she does not need to know what happened to him in the Lazarus Pit and he certainly won’t be caught dead with Bruce at the time.

Bruce is only okay with her going into journalism because he thinks she’ll be working behind a desk at a paper, not what her and Miles plan on doing…

If he knew he certainly would not be happy and try to find a way to interfere…

But sadly he never remembered to ask exactly what she was going to do.

Her and Miles have done a number of stories together, after the first five or so Bruce found out the kind of work she was doing and repeatedly called her to try to talk her out of it, but she would ignore his calls every time.

It was just supposed to be another job, not whatever this was…

They got an email from an anonymous worker, asking to investigate the Murkoff Corporation and their actions at Mount Massive Asylum. The two even joked during their car ride over to the asylum, laughing about stories she shared about her life at the manor and their old college days, they had no idea what they would find inside.

The asylum even looked messed up from the outside, but the inside was a thousand times worse…

Patients who were experimented on, and now they were inhuman and trying to kill, disassemble, mutilate them, you get the idea…

An insane priest to put it lightly…

Dead bodies all over, murdered in horrible ways…

Everyone left alive in there was less than human, insane, or just about to go insane…

And when I say insane, I mean Joker levels of insane.

They get separated along the way, which is good for her, but not so good for Miles.

She makes it out alive thanks to their anonymous source who sent them the email in the first place, Waylon Park who is a software engineer. The two escape together and due to her shock she can’t remember much until long after she left Waylon at his home and she is pulled over at a rest stop half way between Lake County, Colorado and Gotham City, New Jersey, way to exhausted to continue on. She reaches for her phone and finally calls Bruce back.

“D-dad… are you there?”

“Yes, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“S-so much… I want to go home… please I…”

She passes out from exhaustion while on the phone…

But luckily, do you remember what I said about Bruce putting trackers on her things? He never stopped when she was an adult.

When she wakes up she is back home in the manor, in her old room. She is laying flat on her back with everyone around her, even Damian and…

“Jason?”

“Ya… I’m here, lovebug. Just rest, you certainly need it.”

“Need it? For fucks sake she is missing a finger!”

“Dick, shut up-“

Bruce yells them to shut up and he holds her bandaged and stitched hand in his…

“Sweetheart, what happened?”

She only points to the camera in her things as asks them not to play it in front of her. They all watch it together in the Batcave before patrol and…

“Oh my god.”

It is worse than what the Joker did to Jason.

When she finally recovers and is going to write the story and-

No she is not allowed to, Bruce will handle the situation, most likely bringing it to the attention of the Justice League.

In fact she is not allowed to write another story again, she is not leaving the manor again. She is not a hero, she is just a reporter, and Jason is unable to fully move on after what happened to him so how well will she fair out in the real world in her fragile mental state? What if something happens that triggers those memories? They are not letting her take that risk.

Most days she is kept in her room, a controlled environment to make her feel safe. Then most nights one of her brothers or Bruce sleeps beside her in bed after patrols in case nightmare come up and she wakes up screaming. If her mental state get too bad they’ll sedate her so at least her mind is calm and she is not getting flashbacks. Bruce eventually gets her a therapist to work through what happened to her so at least she can have some what of a normal life after what happened…

Well as normal as you can get when you are locked inside for the rest of your life.

[weirdrtvscomments]

in case anyone is struggling with deciding who they want to vote for in the RTVStan/RTVS Nation/RTVSia/RTVS Topia/RTVS Topia-Ville presidential election, i have compiled a list:

Log

Representing the Ethernet Party: “A people with 5 ping to the main server is a people that prospers.”

Will change the name to RTVS Nation

Comic books are a part of the platform

Everybody gets a free moat

Eyes that are twice as big for everyone that wants them

Offload cost to Wifi users

Working on a battery charged snack

Hypnotist is a protected class

Robloxia war veteran

Defenses are proven

Will take your ants and import more

Endorsed by: Soulja Boy, Ken Masters, Stitch 

Signature move when President: Snake Trick (no weaknesses)

Punishment for other candidates: Follow him out & about like an RPG party

Mike

Representing the Sweets & Treats Party: “I was just outside eating a sandwich.”

Orange creamsicles will be available in every store

Free Steam Deck for every American citizen

Will lower tariffs and imports on all types of sweets and treats from Canada, while raising tariffs on everything else

Most important snack is Wasabi Peas

Not very good against zoners

Why are ants so bad?

Endorsed by: 2 (anonymous), Trap Snax

Signature gimmick when President: Whenever he eats a yummy piece of candy he gets an install, which gets its own theme

Special move when President: A cool punch like Marissa from Street Fighter 6

Punishment for other candidates: Have to reach into a bin of Bean Boozled that's 90% gross ones and eat it in public in front of cameras and the press. After, push into the alligator moat. Also, Mira’s idea

Mira

Representing the Drinks & Eats party: “I was rooting around in a dumpster out back.”

Will change the name to RTVSia

One of every food and drink, free of charge

Will develop a chemical compound called “Ketracel White,” will genetically engineer ants to be dependent on it 

Endorsed by: IceFrog, Yoshi, Yoshi (from Mario), baby Yoshi (might be one and the same), Chun Lee

Signature move(s) when President: Level up system (up to 3), if she gets knocked down she loses a charge of it, gets it when she does some power up move (or something), negative edge inputs (landmine, fireball, that one thing Bison does in Street Fighter 5), install where she gets a command grab, 8-way air dash, guard impact, levels reset between rounds, invincible super (can do it on wakeup)

Punishment for other candidates: Detractors rounded up and taken into woods where they are given a knife, camera, and laptop to make a Youtube channel of them living in the woods (Ethernet in the trees)

Trog

Representing the People’s Choice Freedom Integrity Liberty Justice Prosperity Sovereign Citizen’s Ethical Governance Democratic Renewal Global Sustainability Citizens for Unity (may be part of the Lego Star Wars Party): “We’re all part of God’s nation in my eyes.”

All breakfast restaurants have to be open for lunch & dinner in addition to breakfast

THEY HAVE TO GIVE YOU A LARGE WATER WHEN YOU ASK FOR IT

Desegregate PornHub and GayTube

Everybody gets a free castle

Immediately cease all snack exports 

Will start war with Canada

Will mail a bomb if you want him to

Will double your ants and give them to the next guy OR will turn them all into 1 big ant

New category on PornHub for ants

Will build death robots and a spaceship

Will be inventing gorgons, griffins, vampires, Frankenstiens, zombies, mummies, insects, gorgon ants (small)

Endorsed by: The Sims, Captain Video, Half Life 2: Lost Coast (demo), Tobuscus

Super move when President: 1 Sphinx on every tile surrounding, +1 food, +1 culture (if next to a river, +2 food, +2 culture instead)

Theme song: Steppin’ Out by Joe Jackson

Punishment for other candidates: All other candidates have to do an embarrassing pose and gaze into Medusa’s eyes, which will turn them into stone. The statues will be put in front of the White House, where during a nation-wide celebration they will be knocked down with a wrecking ball/individually destroyed with dirty bombs

Wayneradiotv/Wayne John 

Representing the California Milk Processors Board: “Enjoy DOGh.”

Every gallon of milk will have $2,000 in it

Free PornHub premium

Any dairy product you want whenever you want it

Will attract more ants

Will rename it to Milk Nation

Pig milk Iron Fist

Endorsed by: Britney Spears, Beyonce, Rhianna, Serena Williams, Venus Williams, Shaquille O’Neal, Harrison Ford (all branded with Permanent Milk Mustache & committed their eternal lives), Batman, Mario, Spongebob

Signature move when President: Cow army that walks on their hind legs and shoot milk as projectiles

Punishment for other candidates: Mulched into feed for his cows

Things you need to rememer for the ONLY ELECTION THAT MATTERS!!!!

[thagomizersshow]

I love when sci-fi/fantasy writers throw in a random fact about a fictional species that actually has big repercussions for that species' biology.

Like, there is a species in Star Trek called Saurians who are adorable dinosauroid looking dudes. They've had very little revealed about them despite having been mentioned as early as the original series by way of "Saurian brandy" — a drink that is so strong it can put a Klingon on their ass in one swig.

Other than that, most of what we know about them comes from snippets involving a reoccuring character on Discovery named Linus, who is mostly a comic relief character. Now the reason I bring them up is that in one episode there's a scene where Linus is eating bamboo of all things, and I'm not sure the writers realized how telling this is about Saurian biology.

Bamboo is a damn hard food to eat, and us humans can only eat the shoots of a few species. Even then, raw consumption of shoots can lead to cyanide poisoning if you aren't careful. We still don't know how exactly a lot of animals that eat a lot of bamboo (bamboo lemurs, red pandas, bamboo rats, elephants, gorillas) are able to digest so much of it without getting cyanide poisoning. There is some sort of neutralization process in giant pandas involving the rhodanese enzyme that turns cyanide into the non-toxic thiocyanate that they just pee out, but the process is still poorly understood in other species.

Bamboo is also hard to digest for the same reason all grasses are; their plant wall cellulose is hard as hell to break down. Like, your choices are:

a) you do a poor job of digesting it and just spend all day eating (giant panda, red panda, bamboo lemur)

b) you grow really big and have a big gut (elephants, gorillas)

c) you only eat the parts of the plant that are easier to digest (bamboo rats)

On top of that, bamboo is loaded with silica phytoliths that are like microscopic bits of glass. These evolved to make their tissues even harder to chew and metabolize.

It's hard to make out in the scene, but it looks like Linus is eating raw bamboo leaves. Just picking them up with his fingers and munching on them like it's nothing. That means his teeth and/or jaws would need to be very powerful (maybe hypsodont? or maybe tooth batteries?) AND, because he's eating it raw, he'd have to be immune to the cyanide in some way.

One explanation could be in the Star Trek Adventures TTRPG, where Saurians are said to have an ability called "Enhanced Metabolism" where they recover from toxins faster than other species (my guess is this was meant to reference their brandy being so strong). BUT, that's not the same thing as the immunity real bamboo eating animals seem to have. My head canon is that Saurians have a diet similar to red pandas, where bamboo-like plants are their main diet on their homeworld, but they'll eat other stuff too when it's available, AND they've evolved some way to convert cyanide into a harmless chemical they excrete, like a giant panda.

All of these whacky biology shenanigans stem (hehe) from the casual writing decision to make a supporting alien character seem weird by eating a weird thing.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Hunt pt. 1

Read on AO3.

Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Alastor x Reader (reader is afab, uses she/her pronouns.) Date nights in Hell are done a little differently, especially when you're dating The Radio Demon.

Trigger warnings: Canon typical violence. Reader and Alastor in Hell for a reason. Horror with some twisted romance.

Today had been a particularly drab day.

Acid rain had been falling all afternoon and Pentagram City was shut down because of it. And you could feel yourself shutting down as well.

These bad days used to fall on you much more often. Back when life was simpler and less stimulating. When there were less options to hyper fixate on and stimulate those delightful hormones that didn’t always help you to feel happy but allowed you to . . . feel.

But today you felt that numbness creeping in; a slithering, creeping, darker cousin to boredom. You were so tired and every forced smile and polite reply aimed at the other hotel residents drained your battery little by little by little by little . . . .

You were on your fifth cup of coffee that afternoon, the bitter caffeinated beverage the only thing left that seemed to cause any kind of chemical spark in your dead gray matter, but unknowingly, you had stopped sipping it several minutes ago. Rather, you were just mindlessly staring down into it, watching the little tendrils of separated creamer swirl around the top. At least it was far more interesting than anything else going on in the lobby.

“Are we having a bit of a . . . down day?” Alastor’s voice said remarkably close to your ear and you jumped, turning to find him bent over at his waist, his head right next to yours.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, turning away from him.

He had pampered and fussed over you too many times on days like these, even when – no, especially when they became so bad you couldn’t get out of bed. But things were different now; since his return to Hell, Alastor was busier than ever and you didn’t want to bother him. The guilt would be worse than the emptiness you were currently struggling with.

“I think not,” came his sing-song reply and you shut your eyes against the enthusiasm you heard in his tone.

“Don’t I look fine?” you challenged and when he stood up straighter, his smile pinching just a little at the corners, you heard how snippy you sounded with him and sighed. There was the damnable guilt you had been trying to avoid.

“You look beautiful as always, darling,” came his quick reply. “I just thought you could use a little cheering up.”

He leaned back in, whispering conspiratorial into your ear now. “I was hoping you would join me . . . on a date . . .” His eyes glowed as he let his words sink in. “But if you’d rather sit in here and sulk the rest of the night, I’ll leave you to it.”

“Like . . . a date, date?” you asked, feeling a little bit of the weight leaving your chest as hope bloomed in you.

“Precisely.” His smile stretched ear to ear. “There is someone I need to collect a debt on and the weather tonight seems just perfect for such an occasion. I would more than welcome your company.”

You felt your first genuine smile of the day grace your features, nearly matching the wickedness of Alastor’s own features, and that little spark you had felt turned into an entire flood of dopamine.

“Where to?” you asked and Alastor took your head, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before leading you out the front doors.

____

The prey dragged itself up the stairs, stumbling on every other step and grasping the handrail for balance as he went. Although the rainstorm had kept him from the bars that night, it hadn’t kept him from his personal stache of liquor and in his lonely anger, he had downed several gin and tonics before his stomach began to protest and he had passed out in his armchair. He’d woken up a few minutes ago, his bladder protesting the diuretic effects of the booze. By some miracle he had made it to his downstairs bathroom to relieve himself and then decided it was time to crawl into bed.

He made it to the top of the landing after a considerable struggle with the staircase and almost forgot to the turn the lights off behind him. Fumbling with the switch, he just happened to glance down the stairs as the lights flickered out of existence.

The prey blinked in the darkness, trying to adjust his eyes, as he thought he saw a strange shadow at the bottom of the stairs.

He was sure he was alone in the house and he couldn’t quite be sure of what he was seeing, so he flipped the lights back on.

Nothing.

Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he turned the lights back off.

And there it was again.

A shadow. Taller and definitely there.

Feeling his heart begin to race, the prey flipped the lights on, certain he wasn’t imagining it this time but as the staircase became illuminated once more, the shadow was gone.

He had perhaps had too much to drink.

One last time, he flipped the switch, inviting the darkness back in, and this time when the shadow came back, the prey swore there were faint glowing green eyes and the hint of a smile playing across its features.

And was it a little closer this time? He had sworn it was at the bottom of the stairs but now it seemed to be a few steps up.

“Now that’s enough of that!” the prey shouted and flipped on the lights.

He breathed a sigh of relief when once more, there was nothing.

Maybe it was best to sleep with the lights on tonight, just to be certain.

The prey turned away from the stairs, leaving the switch flipped in the on position, and came chest to chest with The Radio Demon.

“Good evening, Daniel,” Alastor said, smiling wider as the prey’s face turned several shades whiter. “I see you’ve changed residences.”

“Hey there, Al’ . . . I-I mean, Alastor . . . sir. M-Mr. Radio D-demon,” the prey stuttered, stumbling backwards and just barely catching himself on the banister. “You uh . . . you like my new digs, huh? Paid a pretty penny for it but you know, it’ll be good for business.”

Alastor remained at the top of the stairs, watching his prey make its slow decent down and away from him.

“And who’s business would that be? Certainly not mine, I don’t deal in real estate after all.”

“You know, ha, it’s funny you would say that because I’ve been meaning to talk to you- ”

“You made a mistake, Daniel,” Alastor told his prey, all the politeness leaving his tone, although his smile remained.

The prey swallowed audibly.

“Did you really think going to Zestial, of all demons, would save you from our deal?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re . . . talking abou- ”

“You see, Daniel, Zestial and I may not necessarily be friends, but we are colleagues. And we have an understanding. A certain level of respect for each other, if you will.” Alastor narrowed his eyes and his voice turned cold as ice. “And neither of us like having another Overlord’s leftovers.”

Daniel turned and fled, racing down the rest of the steps with a grace that only adrenaline could provide in such a state of inebriation, though he did fumble quite a bit with the locks of the front doors.

Alastor let his prey make it out the front door before he went in pursuit, though he let his deep laughter follow Daniel the whole way down, enjoying the sweet tangy smell of his fear as it spiked at the sound.

In his panic, the prey forgot all about the inclement weather and dashed thoughtlessly out into the rainstorm and ran down the deserted street. It took a minute for the effects to kick in but eventually he started to feel the itching on his skin and then the burning set in. The prey stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, beneath a streetlamp, and watched as the skin on his hands began to turn red and break out in a terrible heat rash.

With a sob, he dashed under an overhang of a nearby business and shook at the doorhandle, but it wouldn’t budge. He thought about breaking the window to get inside but then he heard that laughter again and the streetlights above flickered and then went out, one by one.

Looking down the street, he watched as The Radio Demon stepped out into view, his antlers now wide and pointed above his silhouette, and turned his head down the street, looking in his prey’s direction.

A smell wafted off of him, even from this great distance. A dank, swampy, animalistic smell. The musk filled the prey’s nostrils and burned his sinuses, and he knew it was the smell of a predator about to pounce.

“That’s alright, Daniel, go ahead and run. Please do.”

To the prey’s horror, Alastor began walking quickly down the sidewalk, completely unaffected by the burning rain.  His limbs and entire body stretched out and elongated with every step, closing the distance between them faster than previously possible, until Alastor was a towering demonic presence chasing down the street after him.

“I like my meals warmed up!” he shouted, and the prey screamed as he took off again.

It was either face the rain or be eaten and the prey chose the rain as it sprinted down the street, screaming and crying out for help but not a light flickered on in the buildings as he passed them.

Eventually the burning became unbearable and the prey darted blindly into the nearest alleyway, praying to Roo herself that there would be some shelter to hide in and protect him from the rain.

And there it was, a small overhang by a bar’s backdoor, with a conveniently placed dumpster to hide next to that blocked his view of the street.

That was where the prey found you, standing innocently by the door, shielded from the rain, and he didn’t question why you would be there on a night like this. He only fell at your feet, clinging to your legs and shaking, his hands and face now beginning to blister, his tears hot and stinging his flesh as they fell down his cheeks.

“Please! Please, help me! Let me in! Please! He’s going to eat me, please!”

“Who is going to eat you?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head as you considered the pathetic demon at your feet.

“Alastor. Th-the Radio Demon. He . . . he . . .” the prey fumbled for words, his sentence trailing off as he risked peaking up over the top of the dumpster and seeing nothing but an empty street at the end of the alleyway.

“Oh, right. Him,” you said, nodding. “Well, that’s his thing, isn’t it? Going after demons that try and break their deals. Especially ones like you, who preyed after helpless young women when he was alive. Isn’t that right . . . Daniel?”

The prey’s breath caught in his throat as he glanced over his shoulder at you, a new kind of fear lighting his eyes.

“Who . . . who are you?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“That’s not important,” you scoffed. “Who was the girl you raped and left for dead in the park on the night of your 18th birthday? Or the sex workers you then tortured and killed and left their bodies out in the desert? Do you even remember their names? Do you know how many family members are still looking for their daughters, sisters, mothers?”

“I don’t . . . I didn’t . . .” he stammered, getting to his feet now.

“You did. No use denying it now, Daniel. Not when Alastor and I are so . . . very . . . hungry.”

A crackling noise, like the sound of several joints popping at once filled the air, and the prey looked up and up and up as he saw Alastor’s gigantic form peeling away from the darkened side of the building, turning from nothing but shadow into a very corporeal and deadly form before his very eyes.

Behind him, you shoved at his back, forcing him to fall onto his knees into a puddle of acid rain.

Then you stepped out from under the cover of the overhang, letting the rain soak your hair and clothes, and the prey looked up at you with renewed horror as he realized the acid water had no effect on you either.

“Please,” he whimpered and then began to scream as Alastor bent over and lifted him into the air.

You watched as the prey’s tiny body was lifted higher and higher until the rain and the shadows hid him mostly from view but you could still hear him screaming. Then there was a crunching noise and a wet sound, followed by a thin stream of blood that fell from the sky.

The screaming continued.

“This will be quite unpleasant until it’s over,” Alastor’s voice said from high above you. “But my darling companion does love the taste of demon heart.”

Another sound of stretching and tearing and then you saw it; the warm mass of your meal falling towards you, and you reached up and caught it with skilled precision.

With the prey’s heart now in your grasp, you brought it to your lips and took an eager bite, never minding the blood that ran down your forearms and coated your lower face.

The screaming above you came to a sudden halt with the sound of one final loud crunch and just as you were taking the last bites of your own meal, Alastor was standing before you.

His antlers were still larger than usual, their six points gleaming beautifully in the dim light of the alley, as rain ran down them in rivulets, soaking the red and black hair beneath them.

Alastor gave you a loving smile as you swallowed the last bit of heart.

“Feeling better, my love?” he asked.

“Much,” you said with a satisfied sigh. “Thank you.”

He reached a hand out, wiping away a bit of blood from the side of your mouth with his thumb, though he had hardly succeeded in getting it all.

“You always look positively stunning like this,” he said as he brought his bloody thumb to his mouth and gave it an appreciative suck.

And there in the rain and the dark, you and your lover shared a private and tender kiss, the perfect ending to a perfect date.

Tag list for part 2? It will be smutty.

[artiststarme]

Eddie saw the kids treating Steve like he was the dumbest member of the Party. He saw them ridiculing him about his verbiage, his confusion over DnD, and his lack of dating. Hell, they found fault in basically everything he did. Eddie saw Steve losing more and more of his confidence until he had hardly any left. He would wilt under the force of their judgment, his smile would dim, and he’d make his entire being smaller. 

It made Eddie furious. Steve might not be the best at reading or playing roleplay games involving excessive amounts of math but he had his own strengths. He knew how to survive. Steve had told him about being left alone at home from a young age and having to figure out how to change the batteries in the smoke detector. How he’d had to figure out how to clean the pool and handle the chemicals when he was eleven because his parents wanted to come home to a clean pool. He’d seen him decipher sports plays on TV that had Eddie’s mind boggling.

Not to mention the fact that Steve had been keeping those bitchass kids safe for the past three years. He’d provided first aid, fought monsters from hell, and still managed to keep those little shits alive. So, the next time he hears one of them say something derogatory about Steve, Eddie might lose it a little.

Importantly, his words met their mark. There was some screaming involved, some finger-pointing, and blame thrown around. The kids may have been in shock for part of his tantrum and in tears for the rest of it. But from that day forward, they treated Steve with the respect he deserves. They stopped calling him names and insulting his intelligence. They stopped expecting the most of him and treating him the worst. Most of all though, they started showing their appreciation. 

And it made Eddie happy. No one, according to him and everyone else’s opinion that mattered, deserved it more than Steve. He let him know as often as possible, whispering it into their kisses or into his ear as he cuddled him at night. For the rest of their lives, Eddie would make Steve understand how smart and how important he is.

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - November 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles! (sorry it's slightly late, the links didn't wanna work and I couldn't figure it out all day)

1. Wyoming's abortion ban has been overturned, including its ban on abortion medication

“Wyoming is the second state to have its near-total abortion ban overturned this month[…. Seven other states] also approved amendments protecting the right to an abortion. A lawsuit seeking to challenge the [FDA]’s approval of abortion medication recently failed when the Supreme Court refused to hear it[….]”

2. Patches of wildflowers in cities can be just as good for insects as natural meadows – study

“This study confirmed that small areas of urban wildflowers have a high concentration of pollinating insects, and are as valuable to many pollinators as larger areas of natural meadow that you would typically find rurally.”

3. Paris could offer new parents anti-pollution baby 'gift bags' to combat 'forever chemicals'

“The bag includes a stainless steel baby cup, a wooden toy, reusable cotton wipes, and non-toxic cleaning supplies as part of a "green prescription". […] The city will also have 44 centres for protecting mothers and infants that will be without any pollutants[….]”

4. Indigenous guardians embark on a sacred pact to protect the lowland tapir in Colombia

“The tapir is now the focus of an Indigenous-led conservation project[… A proposed “biocultural corridor”] will protect not only the populations and movements of wildlife such as tapirs, but also the cultural traditions and spirituality of the Inga and other neighboring Indigenous peoples[….]”

5. Denmark will plant 1 billion trees and convert 10% of farmland into forest

“[…] 43 billion kroner ($6.1 billion) have been earmarked to acquire land from farmers over the next two decades[.… In addition,] livestock farmers will be taxed for the greenhouse gases emitted by their cows, sheep and pigs from 2030, the first country to do so[….]”

6. The biggest grid storage project using old batteries is online in Texas

“[Element operates “used EV battery packs” with software that can] fine-tune commands at the cell level, instead of treating all the batteries as a monolithic whole. This enables the system to get more use out of each cell without stressing any so much that they break down[….]””

7. Durable supramolecular plastic is fully ocean-degradable and doesn't generate microplastics

“The new material is as strong as conventional plastics and biodegradable, [… and] is therefore expected to help reduce harmful microplastic pollution that accumulates in oceans and soil and eventually enters the food chain.”

8. Big Oil Tax Could Boost Global Loss and Damage Fund by 2000%

“[… A] tax on fossil fuel extraction, which would increase each year, combined with additional taxes on excess profits would […] generate hundreds of billions of dollars by the end of the decade to assist poor and vulnerable communities with the impact of the climate crisis[….]”

9. Rooftop solar meets 107.5 pct of South Australia’s demand, no emergency measures needed

“[T]he state was able to export around 658 MW of capacity to Victoria at the time[….] The export capacity is expected to increase significantly as the new transmission link to NSW[…] should be able to allow an extra 150 MW to be transferred in either direction by Christmas.”

10. Light-altering paint for greenhouses could help lengthen the fruit growing season in less sunny countries

“[Scientists] have developed a spray coating for greenhouses that could help UK farmers to produce more crops in the future using the same or less energy[… by optimising] the wavelength of light shining onto the plants, improving their growth and yield.”

November 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[oozedninjas]

Blame the Chemicals in the Mind

Summary: Mad scientist!Donnie discovers he has developed twisted, unwanted feelings toward his best experimentation specimen.

A/N: General verses, but I placed something about each version of Donnie, let's see if you can find it! Also, I heavily kept in mind 2012verse and Bayverse for some reason? Anyway, this will have multiple parts but it can be read as a one-chapter thing too :)

Please do not spam like. Reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Warnings: NSFW / DARK CONTENT/ smut/fem!Reader/ after the kraang apocalypse/Donatello and reader are both mid to late twenties /dub-con/eventual Yandere topics/experimentation/torture/blood and violence/trauma bonding/Stockholm syndrome/blood extraction/panic attack (reader's)/twisted hurt-comfort/between-the-lines humiliation/ mentions of the use of a feeding probe/sensorial overstimulation and deprivation/ Regarding smut: humping/creampie/DUB-CON/ dead dove do not eat

This is 18+ dark content. If you click on keep reading you have agreed you want to read this content.

His ever-present gaze penetrated the tank's glass, fixating on your orbs. It was a constant company, greeting you upon waking— whether immersed in the computer's screen a few paces ahead or absorbed in a stress ball he kept in hand to stimulate his thoughts. He consistently stared, as if that alone could propel him closer to a cure for the three monstrous things that so closely resembled him. 

Donatello observed them through the fortified cells he constructed, initially intended as a security measure. He sighed deeply. The laboratory never felt as desolate as it did now, as if hopelessness swept through, resonating through his body. Gradually, despair eroded small fragments of his sanity, leaving nothing more than a faint echo of who he used to be.

He needed to find a cure soon. And so he pinched, tugged, injected, and inflicted upon your body a distinct form of torment every day. Each one an inch closer. However, despite your best judgment, you lacked the strength to keep on resenting him.

Exhausted from enduring numerous stings and side effects, your brain, perhaps as a survival mechanism, clung to words of reaffirmation. Praise. Approbation. Plaudits. They seemed to breathe sanity back into your inner self, preventing your poor state of mind from sinking deeper into the dark.

Such an exquisite test subject!

So remarkably compliant and subdued, aren't you?

I'll create an antidote, and they'll be back, and it'll be thanks to you.

You seem unwell today.

His voice was distant from under the water but he sounded somehow concerned. "Let's take the day off. You can't die just yet. Finding others like you is proving increasingly challenging."

You didn't want him to ignore you for the rest of the day. You wished he wouldn't. You could endure a slight pinch if it meant feeling something. Lately, the increasing sensory isolation was becoming more and more nerve-wracking. You must have wished too fervently, for just as he had not entirely turned away, the power abruptly ran out.

Donatello gasped. The blue light of your tank framed his face. A menace, yet fixable. The hitch: replacing the lab's battery required using the one in your tank. Both were designed with separate energies after an incident— an unfortunate electrocution during a short-circuit caused by an electric storm. Test subject 83q1q didn’t make it.

The wisest course of action was to empty the tank, replace the battery, and secure you elsewhere until he could find a new one. Your body throbbed with tickles of anxiety and anticipation upon noticing his intent.

As it drained, you descended to the bottom of it. He opened its side, causing all the tubes to tilt down. Donatello pulled them off. You inhaled as soon as he unplugged them from your throat. A coughing fit almost broke your rib cage right after a sharp, reckless gasp for air.

An overwhelming sensation hovered over you. Abruptly, everything was too much. Too much air, too rough floor, too much pressure on your skull, too loud— You can't breathe. You're choking. Your ears are beeping. Someone's screaming. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can’t— He's touching you. You tensed. Would he return you to the tank? Where's the needle? The last time he touched you, there was a needle, or something sharp, and it hurt. You brace yourself. 

Donatello began making even circles over your bare back.

"Deep breaths," he said. His voice sounded different. Steadier, warmer. "Follow my own, here," he pressed your hand to his plastron. His inhalations were even, soothing.

"That's right, you're doing well—maintain your focus right here."

Your view briefly smeared your palm over his chest before properly adjusting. Your head pulsed as if your skull rejected your brain. Your mind was a jumble of many things barely held together. But you’re breathing, you’re alive, nothing hurts.

"Well done. Now, tell me five things about yourself," he asked.

The piercing cold scraped your bones like long-stirred claws. Nothing hurts, not quite much.

"My name is Donatello,” he began to set an example. “I am a scientist. I aim to fix the Kraang predicament. I like purple,” he paused, realizing there was nothing more about him worth mentioning. Then, against logical reasoning, he added: “I miss my brothers.”

Squatting, embracing your naked, soaked silhouette in a failed attempt to stop shivering, you listened; forcing yourself to clutch onto his voice, scarcely discerning his words but making the effort. On the verge of giving up on obtaining an answer, Donatello motioned back. Your nails dug into his plastron just then. He tensed.

“My name is—” your voice quivered, mind spinning, searching. You told him. “Chest… hurts. Head, hurts. I’m cold.” Your weakling tone disturbed you, hoarse, broken, reduced to a raspy mutter. “I’m… alone.”

You were unexpectedly a jarring mirror he reflected in. Donatello tilted his head, musing.

"Well done. It wasn't so hard, was it?" he articulated, displacing your hand. "Now come here, you ought to wait inside the cell until the battery is efficiently substituted and operational—I still need to find another to power the tank, though.” he added between his teeth, more to himself than to you. “Anyway, be glad, you'll rest," he finished, offering you a towel.

You took it, hesitantly. Soft, cold fingers brushing with rough, calloused ones. Donatello retracted his hand upon the brief contact. For half a second, he seemed misplaced. Something shifted thereafter. As if the lab’s loneliness somehow extinguished just by having another breath residing there. As days elapsed, he worked diligently to replace the burnt pieces and connect the battery. This task, which would have taken only a few hours with all the needed resources, was now hindered by the aftermath of the world nearly ending. 

You braced yourself every time he approached your space, yet, pain never came with him. Instead, there was something, something more, something close to a kindle glimpse of a strange fascination. Donatello couldn't grasp why, but he started bringing you food instead of using the feeding probe.

“I help bring them back,” you said one fine day, after long contemplating the scattered photographs of four turtles attired in different colors, enjoying life before the apocalypse.

The sound of the welder stopped, as did the sparks that created different patterns of light around. He looked at you, understanding that it was not a reiteration of your role; it was an express wish, a genuine interest, as if you actually had a saying on the matter. It was, in a way, touching.

“Yes, you will,” he paused briefly, contemplating for the first time going slightly out of his way to give you something. But what? Perhaps something to wear? No, keeping you naked meant you wouldn't dare to set foot outside. It had to be something else, something more.

Donatello pondered for half a heartbeat before pulling the protective lenses up.  “Hey, on a scale of one to ten, how cold would you rate your cell?”

***

The day came when he finished fixing the lights. The sudden brightness forced a hiss out of you, too sharp. He adjusted it, toning it down to a level you could bare. He found an extra battery as well, which meant you would return to the tank. You would hurt again, but it’s fine; he gave you purpose. He fed and warmed you, and listened to you. He gave you gentle head pats— 

He’s good. 

He doesn’t care if he hurts you.

It’s alright. He gave you purpose. 

He doesn’t care if you cry.

He keeps you warm.

Donatello took some blood samples, followed by platelets, in between a couple more tests. You felt dizzy jumping off the chair, narrowly holding on to the edge of the table so as not to slam against the floor. The tank light loomed over you. Bit by bit, you gestured towards the two-meter cylindrical vessel, your heart rate suddenly plummeting. The dreadful prospect of sensory deprivation gnawed at your insides. Your breaths became erratic, resonating loudly in your ears, and the sensation of blood swirling in the pit of your stomach heightened. You won't feel, you won't eat, you will hurt. You can't breathe. You gasp for air. It’s alright, it’s alright-

"I was thinking..." Donatello's voice cut through the oppressive atmosphere, and you clung to the sound as if it were a lifeline. "Since you've behaved— what if I don't send you back in the tank? What if you stay here a bit longer?"

You turned, your eyes widening in astonishment. 

"Would you like that?" he asked, not facing you, an awkwardness in his demeanor, as if it were the first time in his life he had asked for company.

"Yes," you gasped.

***

You couldn't pinpoint when it happened, but it didn't matter. You lay on his lap, resting as he worked, your body bare, absorbing the warmth of the room he had carefully heated for you. You cherished the rare moments he allowed you this close to him, savoring the seconds of feeling human once again through simple acts like cuddling. It made the aching in your body subside a smidgen.

The embrace elicited subtle signs of contentment, slowly fading into gasps, later morphing into moaning. His breath hitched upon hearing them. Donatello wasn't the best at navigating feelings. But these sensations were not exactly that. They couldn’t be. No, it was more like a palpitation triggering a primal response to your scent, your warmth, and the gentle quiver in your voice.

He scoffed. Deep thought on the matter didn’t change that his cock throbbed with each breath rolling off your mouth. He tried to shake the heat of his head, but why? Why should he resist? There was no purpose for not indulging. In fact, it could be beneficial.

He let his hand travel across your back. His touch made you shudder. He puffed, a nerdy sound he hadn’t heard himself make since the first time he watched a porn video. 

“Come,” he said, tugging you to sit upright.

You raised your head from the crook on his neck to face him. “To the operating room?”

“No, just here,” he muttered.

Donatello adjusted you over the lower half of his plastron before reclining the chair back. Your nude pussy pressed upon its wetness. He groaned. Warm fingertips clung to the upper sides of his shell, seeking balance. He stroked your hair. You waited. Nothing hurt.

Donatello placed both hands over your love handles, moving you back and forth so your cunt rubbed over his needy slit. It throbbed, his hard cock soon to emerge from it. He whimpered, breath hitching when you followed his lead, hypnotized by the exquisite friction over your clit. A few more humps and it came out, pulling a deep growl from him. You looked in astonishment as it rose against your abdomen. tick, long and glistening in a creamy transparent liquid. Your inner thighs soon soaked in it. Nothing hurts, no…, in fact- it’s good. Fuck, so good. You sighed, unable to stop grinding over his newly released member, absolutely thriving in the delicious way it numbed everything into bliss. 

Donatello’s head fell backward. His mouth curved slightly at the corners in a somewhat twisted smile of enjoyment. His earnest, soft moaning mingled with yours feverishly. 

“That’s so hot— I want more, I want to be in you, I know you’re so warm inside,” his voice was desperate, drunken-like. 

In one motion, Donatello pulled you up. Your back hit the cold desk. You sensed the keyboard under your head. It hurt. You snap back, eyes open wide. He grabbed your waist. Six strong fingers kept you in place as he lined with you. You puff, suddenly tensing.

"You want it too, right? In theory, it should feel good. You're too wet for it not to, don't worry, you've been good. It won't hurt." 

The question lingered. You don't know. You don't want to hurt. Would he be angry if you forced him to stop? Could you do that? Would he put you back in the tank? You're dizzy. 

He moved the tip of his cock along your soaked cunt, focusing on your soft nub, making circles over it. Your legs opened wider in response. His voice quivered as he whimpered, yours followed. You clenched around nothing. 

"You're not saying no, are you?" he panted. "So I assume you must want to, right?" 

Your hole stretches with his size sliding in. You groan, dragging your nails over the desk. 

"Ah— it hurts! It hurts!" you blurt out. 

"Bear it. The ache isn't supposed to- last too long. It'll feel good once you get used to it. You're good, you can bear it, you ca-nm,"

His body steamed, and his mind burnt with it, slowly melting the last drops of rational thinking. "You're so tight," he thrust once, twice, and thrice. 

You reached for him, clinging to his quivering voice, his praise, his— fuck he's so deep in you. his pace knocks your breath out. It hurts. It fills you so well. It hurts. Feels hot. His moves are steady, building heat in your belly. Pain's giving out. You clench around him, sucking him deeper. 

Donatello jerked forward, mouth gaping, eyes shutting. Both forearms held him up over the desk. He was now close enough for you to embrace him, so you clamped one hand to his shell and the other to his shoulder. Both legs hugged him near. With each new thrust your clit rubbed to his plastron sending waves of volts through your veins. 

"Yes," you breathed, barely above your own moaning.

Donatello grinned, "I knew you liked it,”

“Yeah—ah, faster, harder,” you pleaded, head thrown back as he fucked you.

He granted. Making his pace even crueler. His content smile never faded. 

“Your little cunt loves this so much! I can feel you squeezing me so tight, fuck, such a good testing subject, about to be my favorite cumdump.” 

Your muscles tensed in anticipation, the heat in your core about to burst. The sound of wet skin slapping reached your ears as your toes curled. 

His breath staggered as he spoke. "Ah- I can't stop. I'm coming, fuck, yes, yes-mnn," 

The hot loads filled you all the way to your womb. You embraced him, his ragged breath right in your ear. He enjoyed it, you did good, all feels right, more, more— You came with a loud moan, sweet pulsations carried the bliss from your belly through your temples, melting you.

He stayed still for a while, holding you in his arms, absorbing the warmth from your body. You both descended from the high together. Your scent mingled with his own, and for a fleeting moment, something tingled within him—the creeping onset of a feeling. He scoffed. It meant nothing. What are feelings if not chemicals in the mind, fueling instincts? 

"Go clean yourself up," he instructed, letting off your legs. "We still have some tests for the day."

[kinopio-writes]

Hi!!!! I’d like to request Vox and a reader who just refuses to get like new technology at all because they’re like “I don’t wanna waste money when it still works!” Like their phone case could literally be hanging on by a thread and they’d still refuse to get a new one

You don’t have to do this request if you don’t want to, take care of yourself and drink water❤️

A/N: Thank you. I keep forgetting to drink water every day. The only time I remember to drink is whenever I eat. Take care of yourself, too. And I’m the same as the reader you’re describing, lol. I still have an iPhone 6 and it’s still working. The battery drains so fucking fast though.

Warnings: None

———

Vox x Reader who’s a minimalist

• while Vox is someone who owns (I think is) a multi-billionaire company and never had to think of not buying things he needed or wanted, he might agree with you about the money part

• he’s like Grunkle Stan from Gravity Falls or Scrooge McDuck (rich as hell but doesn’t like wasting money)

• but the thing is, he owned technology

• if it were any other stuff, he would be okay with it (it’s your money, after all. You do you)

• but it’s literally what his brand is built around

• he could just…give you a new one

• “No! I don’t want a new one.”

• he’d take offense to that

• because he already put all of your personal information in, from the apps you downloaded to your photos and, heck, your passwords, too

• and he did all of that without syncing it with your old phone (yeah, he knows everything—it’s not creepy at all)

• he knew you were complaining about the darn thing and decided to give you one

• so…why didn’t you want it???

• “Because it still works.”

• he’d just give you the deadest pan (not a word) ever

• your phone was old as hell, so the battery is pretty chemically fucked up

• it was also a device that he no longer puts any new updates in (because everyone else already moved on from it), so your phone was pretty outdated

• like, extremely outdated

• all of which meant that there would be some slight difficulty with communication

• and this man thrives from Facetiming you (he’s a busy guy)

• there would probably be more times you Facetime him than actually seeing him in person (assuming you don’t live with him. He probably has cameras there regardless)

• you’d keep complaining about how he keeps bugging out after a certain time has passed in the call or how it’s already gone down to 5% or how your phone is overheating because you’re charging it while calling him or how it’s just searing hot in general every time you use it—speaking from personal experience, lol

• it’s the reason why he decided to give you a new phone (he wanted longer calls without you having to hang up every 20 minutes because you needed to charge it)

• but noooo—your stubborn ass still insisted on using it because ‘it’s still working’

• ...yeah, no, he’s not taking any of that shit

• he’s still going to give it to you whether you like it or not

• his proposition is that, okay, you can use your old phone, but you have to use the new one for calls

• that’s all he’s asking for, really

[reality-detective]

A well written explanation involving Lithium Ion Batteries. 👇

Understanding Thermal Runaway in Lithium Ion Battery Fires. Thermal Runaway Explained:

Thermal runaway is a chain reaction within a lithium-ion battery that can lead to catastrophic failure, resulting in fires or explosions. Here’s a step-by-step breakdown of what happens during thermal runaway:

1. Initial Trigger: Thermal runaway can be initiated by several factors, such as physical damage (e.g., puncturing or crushing), overcharging, manufacturing defects, or exposure to extreme heat.

2. Internal Heating: Once triggered, a part of the battery starts to overheat. This can be due to an internal short circuit or a chemical reaction within the battery.

3. Chain Reaction: The heat generated from the initial trigger increases the temperature inside the battery. This heat can cause other parts of the battery to react, generating even more heat.

4. Rapid Temperature Rise: As the temperature rises, the electrolyte inside the battery—a flammable liquid—starts to vaporize and decompose, producing gases. This further increases the internal pressure and temperature.

5. Gas Release and Ignition: The increasing pressure can cause the battery casing to rupture, releasing flammable gases. These gases can then ignite, leading to a fire or explosion.

6. Propagation: If the battery is part of a larger battery pack, the heat and flames can spread to adjacent cells, causing them to undergo thermal runaway as well. This can result in a large, intense fire that is difficult to control.

Key Points: - Difficult to Extinguish: Thermal runaway fires require massive amounts of water to cool the batteries and stop the chain reaction. Traditional fire extinguishers are often ineffective.

- Toxic Gases: Burning lithium-ion batteries release toxic gases such as hydrogen fluoride, which can be harmful if inhaled.

- Reignition Risk: Even after the fire appears to be extinguished, there is a risk of reignition. The battery cells can remain hot and unstable for hours or even days.

Safety Measures:

- Distance: Establishing safety distances to keep people away from the danger zone.

- Continuous Monitoring: Using thermal imaging to monitor for any signs of reignition.

- Specialized Response: Firefighters need to use specialized techniques and equipment to handle lithium-ion battery fires safely.

Understanding thermal runaway helps in appreciating the complexity and danger of lithium-ion battery fires, highlighting the importance of safety precautions and effective response strategies. 🤔

[yanaleese]

Hi! :D, i have 2 questions for karma, 1. Karma is tradicional vampire or is he like the Twilight vampires?. 2 He is willing to let me give him some kisses on his face and leave marks on him?. ;) PD(Sorry if i sound a bit rude, i am learning english and Google a helped me a litte haha)

Ooh! This was a question I've been waiting for!

Also your English is understandable relax bestie <3333

But first - let's get your smooching session out of the way ;)

Now, to answer your first question - Karma falls under the Twilight vampires; however he is not entirely a full vampire. In fact, his family and him fall under half-vampires.

Here is a basic (but LONG) comparison between half-breeds and pure-breeds!

Note that this is still in the works, so some information may be changed to fully tie in Karma's story and lineage!

(1) Yup! You read that right - pure-bloods are born with extra mouths, or none at all. They can be randomly placed anywhere on the body e.g. their backs, their hands, etc. However over time, pure-bloods have been able to move their mouths towards different areas thanks to genetics!

(2) Measured Enhancement is a state that allows pure-bloods to renew their strength and abilities. The blood acts like a charger to your phone battery, similar to how we need food and water to survive. It poses little to no risks due to a chemical called vialene, which helps them to resist losing control of themselves.

(3) No Sun Tolerance - Just like traditional vampires, they cannot go in sunlight, as it can lead to their bodies to burn, decay or even explode. Although these effects are dependent on the pure-blood's age, genetics and their decomposition process.

(4) Due to most mouths being permanent from birth, they cannot camouflage their mouths nor make it disappear. As a result, it causes pure-bloods to be susceptible to their environment, leading to these extra mouths being infected. It also does not help the fact that these pure-bloods are decomposing bodies, since decomposed areas can leave the mouths no longer usable. Thus, many vampires wear long-sleeved clothing to hide these mouths - and over time - learn how to gain blood without being detected!

(5) 99% of the time pure-bloods have pale, veiny skin since they lack blood; but that doesn't mean they don't have any. In fact, the chemical that makes up their blood is called Pyrotoxinum (fire + poison). Pyrotoxinum is a black, poisonous chemical that is highly reactive with sunlight and human blood. It's composition is similar to blood, and it tastes like oil and grease. It is corrosive to skin after being exposed in sunlight, can be colorless in sunlight, and is odorless. Lastly, Pyrotoxinum is also poisonous when being ingested, making it a useful tool for humans and vampires to kill people in their sleep, and cause explosions to occur. So be extremely careful when coming across pure-bloods!

(6) With so many mouths, extremely pale skin, and no sun tolerance - pure-bloods are super easy to detect. Hence, many pure-bloods do not openly integrate themselves within human society. This means they use their environment particularly well, making them incredible predators.

(7) Unfortunately, pure-bloods can only drink blood. Eating meats, grains, and dairy is out of the question, since all human food comes from the sun. Besides, pure-bloods are not a fan of organ failure and dying an explosive death lol

(8) Ductility - Pure-bloods are able to stretch their body parts whenever their please, and return to their normal size. This ability works well for middle-aged vampires, since in their younger years - their body goes through puberty and other hormonal changes. Although, it appears in teens, it is recommended by older vampires to not dabble in this ability until they're older. They can receive training for it though!

Bonus: Short comparison between PURE-bloods and TRADITIONAL vampires

(B - Both , P - Purebloods , T - Traditional , TBD - To Be Decided)

Undead? - B

Fangs? - B

No reflection? - T

Superhuman Strength, Speed, Senses and Healing? - B

Hypnotic Eyes? - B

Shapeshifting? - B

Aversion to Holy Symbols? - T

Stake Thru the Heart? - B

Fire? - B

Invitation Needed to Enter? - TBD

Running Water? - If you mean washing your hands and rubbing your face, then T. But if it's exposed to sunlight e.g. rivers, pools? Then B.

(1) Hemomancy is the ability to control your blood in the form of weaponry, shielding, etc. This is because the human blood in their body serves as fuel for their vampiric blood. The vampire blood acts a conductor, allowing them to channel the life energy within themselves! It is by far the easiest, and notable ability that most half-vampires have.

(2) Frenzied Enhancement is an uncontrolled, bloodthirsty state that occurs immediately when drinking blood or seconds after drinking. Although it's risky, it helps half-breeds activate their strength and abilities (huge difference!!!). In simpler terms, drinking blood acts like a key to a closed treasure chest. Drinking blood is purely optional, and simply an additional tool for half-breeds to survive. However, due to vialene being reduced, half-bloods are unable to lower their adrenaline - causing a lack of self-control.

(3) Sun Tolerance - Compared to pure-bloods, most half-bloods are able to go in the sunlight without problems. Their human halves need sunlight, so having sun tolerance is a major plus!

(4) Stemming from genetics and adaptation, half-bloods have the ability to camouflage their mouths. They are able to move these mouths around, assimilate it into their skin, and in rare cases remove it from their skin completely! This process is similar to blood clotting, which is why their body is compatible with such major changes. This ability is by far one of the most envied by pure-bloods!

(5) Another trait that half-bloods can have are patchy, mosaic skin. This skin condition can come in the form of stitches, spots and spirals. Most of the vampiric race believes that this patchy skin substitutes extra body parts, e.g. the mouth. However, the reasoning behind it remains a mystery to most, since this condition has become rarer in the current generation of half-breeds (which Karma falls into).

(6) Since half-bloods are practically human, they are hard to detect appearance-wise. This doesn't stop modern methods from finding them through vialene tests, sensory overload, starvation, etc. Hence, many half-bloods try to build their endurance and stamina to remain undetected. Sometimes half-bloods even try to live off without vialene, which normally goes to shit if you're not careful. But it is possible - there's even a myth about it!

(7) Another ability that pure-bloods envy are half-bloods being able to eat human food and drink blood! Usually, many half-bloods have a strong preference of one over the other. Either way, half-bloods can live on a blood-only diet or a human-based diet. But it is strongly recommended by older generations to ingest both, since it can cause hormonal and emotional imbalances. So it's best to be on the safe side!

(8) Fixed shape - Fortunately, half-bloods are unable to twist and stretch their body parts. This is thanks to their human side kicking in, and hemoglobin being pumped around the body. Pyrotoxinum in most cases, is quite dormant. It is only activated when half-bloods use hemomancy, in fight/flight/freeze mode and possibly more!

Bonus: Short comparison between HALF-bloods and TWILIGHT vampires

(B - Both , H - Halfbloods , T - Twilight , TBD - To Be Decided)

Do they have sparkling skin in sunlight? - T

Superhuman Beauty - B, but it is not as potent as the Twilight vampires in my honest opinion.

Superhuman Strength, Speed, Senses, and Stamina? - B

Invulnerable? - T

Diamond-Hard Skin? - T. But I'd argue that falls under pure-bloods lol

Thirst for Blood? - T

Superficial Sleep? - T

No Religious Restrictions? - B

Enhanced Emotions? - TBD

Vulnerable to Fire? - T

Decapitation? - B

Bloodlust? - DEF B

Covens? - T. I wouldn't describe their family-like groups as covens, but as cliques? I don't have a full on name for it as yet...

Mate Bonds? - T

Transformation? - TBD, but I think transformation would be more suited to pure-bloods.

<>

If you're curious about anything stated here, feel free to blast my inbox (lol)!

Once again thank you for the amazing ask @mylovelyhorror ! I hope you all continue sending your asks - thirsty, unthirsty, romantic, or just pure fluff! MWAH 💋💋💋 trust me guys i'm not dead i swear

[bludstein]

UTRH×WFA Dimensional Body Swap (Part 1)

Disclaimer:

-I haven't read Batman much so my knowledge is limited to BTAS, UTRH The Movie, Young Justice, Super Sons, WFA, and a few other comics with specific banter. I am so sorry to Tim, Steph, Cass, Barbara, and Duke fans out there.

-WFA in this fic is pretty much an alternate universe where heroes actually went to therapists (and no one suffered from Character Assassination) so some things didn't happen or did happen but went differently.

-I assumed since Bruce got therapy earlier, he became a better person and father in the process. Which led a domino effect where Dick became a flawed yet better brother to Jason (albeit not as good as the present Dick). Jason, who is showered with more love than the original, ended up with his personality in WFA.

-Under the Red Hood arc in WFA most likely happened earlier since Jason is still a whooping 19 year old. So, assuming the mainline Jason is currently 22 then WFA Jason would've been 17 or even 16 year old during his Red Hood debut. It also went off rails in the middle since this Jason can't even face the Joker without going on panic attack and was saved by Bruce. They made up not long after.

WFA Jason arriving on his safehouse, only to get flash-banged and ended up in a different place. He's in an alleyway—one he didn't recognize. He notices that the air is different—still polluted but lacked the distinct smog of chemical concoctions made by Batman's Rogues Gallery. He steps outside for a bit, this place totally isn't Gotham. It's way too bright and modern—wait, is that the Statue of Liberty? No way, Jason is in New York? But why? Is it a villain attack?

He reaches for the phone in his jacket, realizing it's out of power. Damn it, who knew that teleportation messed with your phone's battery? He picks up the sound of battle—hearing a familiar clash of escrima sticks against flesh and bones. He knows exactly who it is—hearing a similar sound not too long ago. Jason trails after the source, striding through the streets and went up the stairs. He hears bone cracking, gunshots, and two voices—an older man and Dick talking. Maybe Dick got teleported too? Suddenly, a figure in black and blue falls from the rooftop.

Jason's heart stopped for a moment and instinctively catches Dick in his arms. He let out a sigh of relief, hauling Nightwing onto the fire escape. Huh, did Dick got a new hairstyle? Why did he changed into his older gear? Whatever it is, it can wait. They have to move towards a safer place—leading the older man to the rooftop.

"Are you okay? I heard gunshots and came to check." Jason asks, his worry evident even through the voice modulator. He checks on Dick's injury, finding a broken hand and a few bruises.

Dick looks at him funny, assessing his appearance before asking. "Since when did you have a bat symbol on your costume?" Jason can hear the scrutiny and suspicion in his voice. He raises an eyebrow—though Dick can't see it through his helmet and instead answers in confusion. "Since a few years ago?"

Dick doesn't buy it for whatever reason, his brows furrowing. "You weren't even back that long." He says matter-of-factly, his suspicion growing. "Whatever it is you are scheming, it needs to stop now. My hand is full with the Pierce Brothers and I sure as hell don't need you to make it harder by impersonating me."

"What do you mean?" Jason asks incredulously, now it's his turn to look at him funny. Pierce Brothers? Impersonating? Tonight is getting weirder and weirder. Oh god, could it be?

"Exactly what it means—" Dick is cut off by rains of bullets, dodging them by his sheer reflex and agility. He follows through, moving just in time and glances up at the taller building across the road. However, Jason is suddenly tackled by Nightwing—a grunt escapes him as they roll all over the concrete floor five feet across his original position.

"Wait, Nightwing! I think there is a big misunderstanding—"

"What misunderstanding? I know it was you under that Nightwing costume, murdering people left and right."

"I haven't—" Jason trails off and quickly adds. "What year is it?"

"Oh, the big bad Red Hood forgets his calendar? Obviously, it's—"

Oh.

Oh, that was... years ago.

But how? He joined the family not too long after Bruce found him, panicked and scared. He was supposed to capture the Joker and gave Bruce an ultimatum. However, Jason wasn't brave enough—that laugh is enough to sent him into a panic attack and ruined whatever plan he had.

It took a while to understand that Bruce loved and cared about him—in his own way. They went to Black Canary for consultation, a middle ground between their differing minds. She explained that Bruce would lose everything if he broke his one rule—his friends, his family, and even himself. He found out along the way that Dick had avenged him, albeit briefly and it took a huge toll on the man's mental health. He also found out that Tim wasn't half bad—begrudgingly so.

It wasn't always a smooth journey, of course. Not enough people understand the sheer patience and forgiveness it took to went through the path of recovery. Jason wasn't even allowed to patrol until he was in good enough headspace. Rubber bullets was the compromise they made on one of their therapy sessions. Now that Jason is out of place and time, without the support of his family and friends—with bloody reputation to booth—how will he return home?

(Might upload the fic to Ao3 if it got good enough response).

[eightyonekilograms]

My only other electricity market comment for today is that, as great as it is to see grid-scale storage going hockey-stick-shaped, a little part of me is disappointed that it's mostly just chemical batteries. We probably won't get any of those wacky storage ideas like the trains full of rock that go up and down mountains, or the towers that are continuously assembled and disassembled. Oh well.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Solar and wind are quickly transforming the energy landscape -- but if we are to realize the full potential of these intermittent, renewable energy sources, we'll need safe, affordable batteries capable of storing it. As part of an effort to overcome the long-term energy-storage challenge, University of Wisconsin-Madison engineers have invented a water-soluble chemical additive that improves the performance of a type of electrochemical storage called a bromide aqueous flow battery. "Bromide-based aqueous flow batteries are a promising solution, but there are many messy electrochemical problems with them. That's why there's no real successful bromide-based products today," says Patrick Sullivan who graduated from UW-Madison with a PhD in chemistry in 2023. "Yet, our one additive can solve so many different problems."

Read more.

[kadextra]

The Eggs

A lore overview & theory longpost :]

Let's start with a recap. The eggs were given by the Federation to the island residents to care for. A backstory was also given by Pato, saying the eggs were left behind by a dragon mother who flew off after the wall explosion. An egg has 2 lives, if it dies you get punished, if it's alive and happy you get a prize. But nobody really cares about a prize anymore, all the parents love their eggs sooo much that just being together with them is a prize. The eggs have developed unique, endearing personalities and have become a central part of the narrative in such a massive way that it'd take hours to describe. Some sadly passed on, and more eggs have joined the cast as new players arrived.

The Code Entity

A strange entity made of binary code began to hunt down the eggs, viciously attacking and bringing them all down to one life. The reason why is still unknown, but it seems to want the residents to leave the island. I'll make a separate lore post about this guy eventually, there's a lot to say theory-wise and a lot we still don't know about it.

The Strange Cracks

At one point, all the eggs were kidnapped from their homes in the night. The announcement of their return said they would be given back "unharmed" but they returned with odd cracks in them, as if they were injured. The eggs all acted unusually scared and extra fragile after the incident, and couldn't wear armor without pain. They slowly regained their confidence after a few days and went back to normal, along with a eggstatistics change saying they've "matured."

The Heaven Meetings

When an egg dies, the Federation gives the parents 5-10 minutes to say farewells in a white room. It's always really wholesome and emotional to watch. But lots of questions can be raised about how the Federation seem to have the power to revive an egg from the dead in the first place. If they can do it for 10 minutes, why can't they just... revive them permanently? q!Max asked his egg son Trump why he couldn't just leave during his meeting, and got answers alluding that the egg was trapped there. That "they" are too powerful, so he can't leave. What's really going on here? Are the dead eggs even dead?

Case of Richarlyson

The Brazilians noticed that their egg, Richarlyson had one smaller leg compared to the rest, as if he was underdeveloped. And strangely, he also had a weird substance left on him (visually shown as a slimeball) which they thought could be part of the mother dragon's placenta. q!Cellbit gave the sample to supercomputer SOFIA to analyze, the results being given a few days later. Turns out, the substance's composition had zero traces of DNA, it wasn't even biological. Instead, it was found to be some type of chemical preservation fluid... meaning Richarlyson was in some kind of stasis/storage before being given to the Brazilians, and rushed out at such short notice he couldn't even be cleaned off in time.

The Pomme DNA Test

A sample of the newest & youngest egg's DNA, Pomme, was given to SOFIA to analyze. The genetic results were:

65% Oxygen, 18% Carbon, 10% Hydrogen, 3% Nitrogen, 1.5% Calcium, 1% Phosphorus, Potassium, Sulfur, Sodium, Chlorine, Magnesium. These results are normal for a biological composition of a living creature. However, there were also traces of "unusual elements" in the DNA....

Silicon, Gold, Cobalt, Copper, Palladium, Cadmium, Bismuth, Uranium.

Silicon is used for making alloys.

Gold is a valuable metal.

Copper is a metal used as an electric conductor.

Palladium is a rare metal, also used for electronics.

Cadmium is a heavy metal used to make batteries and it's also toxic.

Bismuth is a crystalline metal again used for electronic appliances.

Uranium is literally radioactive and used for nuclear power.

HUH? These elements and metals are totally unnatural to find traces of in a living creature. edit: this is wrong, these elements and metals are common to find traces of in a living creature. However, SOFIA said they are unusual in the eggs. What does this mean..?

Connections

What if I told you there is a certain type of egg where it's normal to find metals all over?

Fabergé eggs.

Fabergé eggs are valuable decorative eggs made with crystals and rare metals like gold. And it just so happens that as a lead-up to the QSMP, Quackity Studios released a teaser image, with morse code inside leading to a document where many suspicious letters, including this one was found:

This potential connection can't be ignored. Real Fabergé eggs obviously aren't alive like our little eggs, but it's entirely possible that thanks to the traces of metals in their composition, the name is being used as a codeword to refer to them.

All of these things considered, don't forget that the eggs are still living creatures. The "unusual" parts in the genetic makeup are very few compared to oxygen, carbon, calcium, etc. Most of the weird ones do happen to relate to electronics and machines, but if anything, it's likely that the eggs could be cyborgs - a biological organism that's just enhanced with technological parts.

It's becoming more and more evident that the "dragon mother" story is a load of hogwash. The eggs might've been developed in a lab, and transported to the island by the Federation. Whatever intentions or experiment they have running, we don't know... but these poor eggs have no idea about any of this. They are innocent and being used.

They just existed one day, got adopted and began to know love. And no matter what happens, no matter what they really are, dragons or not, we and the parents will continue to love them <3

[whumpisgoodwhumpislife]

Battery

Masterlist

CW lab whump, dehumanisation, nonsexual nudity.

Erik wailed mutely, a cloud of bubbles forming in front of his face. He squirmed and flailed, but the chemical solution he was immersed in prevented him from gaining any momentum. It burnt, like fire coursing through his veins, white-hot agony everywhere in his body. Like last time, he suddenly felt his body going limp, lifeless as his unnaturally generated energy left his body through the countless wires and IVs embedded beneath his skin, the whirring of the machinery surrounding him muffled by the thick liquid. His chest rose and fell shakily as the mask covering his face pushed the chemical-filled air in his lungs, unable to do it himself properly.

He had lost all sense of time since he had been immersed in the yellowish liquid. His life was only marked by the regular sessions of energy drawing, which left him feeling as limp as a ragdoll.

The lack of exercise and the frequent draining had taken a toll on his body. Erik could see his muscles atrophy as the days went by, at such a speed that he was certain whatever was injected through the IVs was deteriorating his body. He had never been anything close to bulky, but now he couldn't even recognise himself.

On the other side of the glass, distorted by the chemical solution, there was always someone watching. Whether it was one of the countless people in white scrubs, a technician, or, more rarely, men in dark suits, he was never alone. Usually, he was granted nothing more than a vague glance, which slid over him as if he were just another object, another piece of furniture. But Erik liked that better than when they lingered over him, pointing out parts of his damaged body, without ever addressing him directly. An object, a subject, a number. That was all that was left of him.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat

@whatamidoingherehelpme @fleur-a-whump @ratsupremacy88