#Human Extinction Using Artificial Intelligence

[msclaritea]

Stargate is a 1994 science fiction action-adventure film directed and co-written by Roland Emmerich. The film is the first entry in the Stargate media franchise and stars Kurt Russell, James Spader, Jaye Davidson, Alexis Cruz, Mili Avital, and Viveca Lindfors. The plot centers on the titular "Stargate", an ancient ring-shaped device that creates a wormhole, enabling travel to a similar device elsewhere in the universe. The central plot explores the theory of extraterrestrial beings having an influence upon human civilization.

Less than Zero is a 1987 American drama film directed by Marek Kanievska, loosely based on the 1985 novel of the same name by Bret Easton Ellis. The film stars Andrew McCarthy as Clay, a college freshman returning home for Christmas to spend time with his ex-girlfriend Blair (Jami Gertz) and his friend Julian (Robert Downey Jr.), both of whom have become drug addicts. The film presents a look at the culture of wealthy, decadent youth in Los Angeles.

Key Takeaways:

– James Spader recollects his time working with Robert Downey Jr. during ‘Less Than Zero'.

– The co-star noticed how Downey Jr.'s destructive lifestyle influenced his performance.

– Spader admired Downey Jr.'s turnaround when they next met on the set of Avengers: Age of Ultron.

Globally acclaimed actor Robert Downey Jr. is widely acknowledged for his phenomenal roles in the Hollywood film industry. Within his illustrious career, his portrayal of Tony Stark in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), starting with Iron Man, stands out. However, even successful journeys have challenging beginnings. For Robert Downey Jr., his journey was marred by a period of drug abuse and legal troubles.

James Spader, co-star of Robert Downey Jr. in the 1987 drama ‘Less Than Zero', recently shed some light on his experience working with Downey Jr. during these testing times. Spader elucidates upon the heartbreaking moment he observed Downey Jr., a talented actor, struggling with destructive habits on the set of ‘Less Than Zero'. His concern for his co-star was compounded by the character Downey Jr. played – an addict.

“I'm gonna go drain the snake,” Downey Jr. would often mumble to himself during filming, leaving his co-star and others on set perplexed.

Downey Jr.'s character in ‘Less Than Zero' is often viewed as a mirror reflection of the actor's tumultuous past, with real-life drug abuse issues being mirrored on-screen. An actor of Downey Jr.'s caliber and his involvement borderline signaled a cry for help that resonated with his audience. This deep connection between his life's challenges and his screen roles turned Downey Jr. into Hollywood's dark horse at that time.

Spader retold his experience about Downey Jr.'s deplorable state during the filming of ‘Less Than Zero', “I found him heartbreaking in ‘Less Than Zero,' and I found him heartbreaking at the time.”

RDJ's physical deterioration, evidenced by patches of dead skin, only made the situation look grim.

However, as they say, every cloud has a silver lining. Downey Jr. made a remarkable turnaround with his life and career. His subsequent meeting with Spader on the set of Avengers: Age of Ultron as a changed person would have been a proud moment for the Blacklist actor. His journey from self-destruction to being one of the biggest stars in Hollywood is nothing short of inspirational.

In the film, the Avengers fight Ultron (Spader)—an artificial intelligence created by Tony Stark (Downey) and Bruce Banner (Ruffalo)—who plans to bring about world peace by causing human extinction.

I don't need to say ONE WORD. The crap loads of Predictive Programming from just three projects says it all. I mean... besides milking it for more sympathy, why keep bringing up RDJ's past drug use? It's pretty humiliating, but also must have a purpose.

Bonus:

[gloomwitchwrites]

Dog with No Teeth // Chapter Nine

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (MDNI): post-apocalypse au, swearing, mild angst, mild fluff

Word Count: 6k

The mandate becomes clearer. You start your first day at the archive. Ghost shares information.

Chapter Eight // Chapter Ten

ao3 // main masterlist // dog with no teeth masterlist

United Nations Preservation of Humanity Charter (UN Mandate I)

Pillar I: Genetic Continuity: All citizens capable of reproduction must contribute to the gene pool unless medically exempt.

Pillar II: Historical Memory: Each Safe Zone and its civilians must preserve human history, language, and art, ensuring no generation forgets humanity’s origins.

Pillar III: Weapons Compact: All Safe Zones are forbidden from producing, obtaining, or trading weapons of mass destruction without prior UN Council approval. Military force may be used only under UN mandate to prevent genocide or extinction-level threats. The production or attainment of firearms, explosives, projectiles, blades, or any instrument of war by civilians is prohibited.

Pillar IV: Bioethics: Non-consensual testing on humans is prohibited. Artificial intelligence, cloning, and biotechnology is outlawed unless authorized by UN Council and must prioritize long-term human well-being.

Pillar V: Reintegration: No persons may be denied sanctuary in a Safe Zone on the basis of origin, gender, or religious belief. All survivors have the right to seek safety and sustenance.

Pillar VI: Equity of Resources: Vital resources, such as water, food, medicine, and power, must be shared across Safe Zones under UN allocation protocols, and redistributed in times of shortage.

Pillar VII: Rewilding: Each Safe Zone and the citizens therein must preserve or restore a percentage of surrounding ecosystems to maintain biodiversity and prevent ecological collapse.

Pillar VIII: Cultural Sovereignty: Safe Zones and the citizens therein retain cultural autonomy, as long as that autonomy does not propagate ideologies that promote extinction, discrimination, or historical erasure. Minority cultures, languages, and traditions must be legally protected.

Pillar IX: Equal Dignity: All individuals, regardless of origin, ethnicity, religious belief, sexual orientation, or country of birth, are equal under the law and entitled to equal protection and opportunity.

Pillar X: Anti-Extremism: All Safe Zones and the citizens therein must report, identify, or otherwise notify the respective authoritative bodies of any organizations, groups, collectives, or movements advocating genocide, supremacy, or systemic subjugation.

You close the pamphlet, shutting out what you didn’t want to know but need to understand. The Preservation of Humanity Charter. Mandate I. Specific and yet entirely vague—open to interpretation. On the surface, nothing appears nefarious, yet you detect hypocrisy in it, that as you dig deeper and ask more questions, fractures will appear.

Your gaze shifts to the collection of reading materials the transitional advisor and family planner handed you when you departed. They stare back, mocking. With a sigh, you set the pamphlet down and reach for another. This one is black with white lettering. “Bill of Rights” is embossed on the front near the top of the thin booklet. In the middle is the emblem of the United Nations.

Opening it, you scan the introduction.

In recognition of the fragility of civilization and the enduring worth of all persons, the United Nations affirms the following rights and protections as universal and mandatory for all Safe Zones, Neutral Zones, governing bodies, and military authorities. These rights are preserved under The United Nations Preservation of Humanity Charter, Mandate III, in alliance with the global standards set forth by the United Nations Continuity Council.

You pause in your reading, mind drifting toward all that’s been lost. There was so much chaos when the structures in place began to collapse—when everything destabilized and devolved. No one believed that any of this would happen. When world leaders threatened one another and preached for isolationism, nothing seemed to come of it. People went to work, lived their lives, spent time with their friends and families.

Then came the trade wars, the tariffs, and sanctions. Even then, people only complained about rising prices and the cost of living. Land and border disputes followed. More empty threats where nothing happened, and the news cycle carried on. But one country put boots on the ground. Another did the same in retaliation. Like a faucet being slowly turned on, the droplets became a stream and then a current.

Article I – Right to Existence and Liberty.

All citizens have the right to life, dignity, liberty, and autonomy. No persons shall be subject to enslavement, forced labor, or arbitrary detention.

All “citizens.” You’re not a citizen—not yet. Where does that leave you? Will they grant you full status when probation is lifted?

Article II – Equality Under Law.

A loud, repeated thudding fills the room, coming from the front door. Clutching the thin black booklet, you head for the door, yanking it open, only to find Lieutenant Riley on the other side holding a cardboard box.

“You’re here early,” you blurt.

“Brought you something,” he replies, voice raspy but gentle.

Behind the balaclava, all you can see are his gorgeous brown eyes. There is no crease in his brow—nothing that indicates any emotion. Yet his shoulders are a tad slumped, almost as if he’s exhausted and would rather be in bed.

You step to the side, holding the door open enough for Lieutenant Riley to enter. Shutting the door, you follow behind him as he makes his way into the bedroom. Placing the cardboard box on the bed, Lieutenant Riley rests his hands atop it, silently observing you as you approach the box.

“You brought me something?” you ask with a hint of excitement.

Neutrality becomes softness. A flush of pink blooms at the edges of the balaclava. Ghost taps the top of the box and takes a step back, extending an arm in open invitation.

“Go on,” he urges.

Placing the thin, black booklet on the bed, you reach for the box with eager, itching fingers. Anticipation flowers in your stomach. Only days ago, Lieutenant Riley dumped you out of his lap and left, hardly giving you a glance as he walked out the door. Now, here he is, bringing you a gift.

You open the box and find an array of colors.

“Is this…” you trail off, reaching into the box, fingers gliding along soft fabric.

Lifting it from its home, you unfurl it. A sweater. Deep maroon by the color. The fit looks almost perfect. Holding the sweater off to the side, you peer down into the box.

“Have you brought me clothes?” you ask, almost choking on your words.

On your release from quarantine, you were given a single outfit. You’ve been rotating through two shirts and two pants the last two weeks. Placing the sweater on the bed, you start removing more items. There are tank tops, dress pants, and cardigans. There’s even a sundress. A wave of joy washes over you, drowning you in rapt glee as you retrieve more clothing items out of the cardboard box.

“I guessed on your size,” says Ghost as a mountain of clothes begins to form on the thin duvet. “Wasn’t sure about color. Or style.”

While the clothes are clearly second-hand, all of it is in good condition. You’ll have more than two shirts to wear. More than two pants. Ghost has brought you an entire wardrobe.

Gratitude explodes within you, bringing you to the brink of tears.

“I can exchange what you don’t like,” he continues, rambling on like he’s suddenly nervous. “If something is too big, can always have it resized.”

“Lieutenant,” you whisper, clutching a pair of black slacks to your chest.

“Do you like it?” he asks, taking a step toward you.

He sounds so eager—so hopeful.

Words form and then promptly leave your head, escaping into the air. So, you don’t speak. You walk around the corner of the bed, and push into Lieutenant Riley’s space. Placing your hand on his arm for support, you go up on your toes, pressing your lips to his balaclava-covered cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmur, squeezing his arm. “For thinking of me.”

Lieutenant Riley’s brow is soft and delicate. He leans in your direction, pure affection in his gaze. It’s startling, sending a rush of heat up your neck and a little flip of your stomach. You quickly drop your hand, backing up.

“You start at the archive today,” states Ghost that soft gaze following your every step.

“I do,” you exhale, smiling in his direction as you delicately fold a pair of jeans. “I’m excited to be around books again.”

“Should pick something out,” nods Ghost. “Look your best for the big day.”

“You’re right,” you grin. “I should.”

After a long deliberation and several spins for Lieutenant Riley’s viewing pleasure, you select a simple black dress with a forest green cardigan. It’s plain and comfortable but professional.

Ghost lightly tugs on the hem of the cardigan. “Fit all right?”

“It’s lovely,” you beam, shying away from how intensely Lieutenant Riley watches you.

It’s hunger but not lecherous in nature. Like dark water, you cannot see into his depths—you cannot begin to guess what he might be thinking. Yet you like the attention, and whatever animosity that lingered between the two of you from the other night is gone. Lieutenant Riley’s body language is relaxed and intimate. The man is in a good mood, and that contentment only heightens your own happiness.

You should enjoy this day. It’s a fresh start. A new beginning in the face of all that you’ve lost.

Ghost releases the cardigan, his arm returning to his side. “Ready?”

You nod. “Ready.”

Out on the street, Ghost escorts you toward a black SUV.

You come to a dead stop. “Is this yours?” you ask in disbelief. “People own cars?”

Ghost opens the front passenger door. “No,” he answers, stepping to the side to indicate that you should get in.

“No this isn’t yours? Or no people don’t own cars?”

“Yes.”

You poke him in the chest, but you’re grinning. “Don’t you dare,” you laugh.

“Dare what?” he replies in mock confusion.

You shake your head good-naturedly, sliding into the passenger seat. Ghost shuts the door, circling around the front of the vehicle to hop into the driver side.

You arch an eyebrow. “Why are you taking me to work in a non-military vehicle?”

“How do you know that?” counters Ghost, draping his arm across the steering wheel.

“So it’s a civilian vehicle?”

“Didn’t say that,” he says casually, leaning back in the seat, reaching into his pocket as he digs around for something.

You open your mouth. Shut it. Ghost chuckles, and you playfully smack his bicep with the back of your hand. Withdrawing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, Ghost sets both in the middle console. The SUV roars to life, the floor gently rattling beneath your feet. Ghost checks the side mirror and shifts gears. The vehicle rolls forward, cruising slowly down the street.

Two weeks behind the wall and all you’ve seen is the inside of your temporary apartment, and a few surrounding streets. This is furtherment—a consolidation of what was and the exploration of possibilities. Home is behind you, though it dwells in your heart, and for now, you must make peace with your new reality. You must navigate this to your advantage, happiness, and well-being.

That is the core of survival after all. To carry on.

“Where is the archive?” you ask, peering upward through the windshield at the towering buildings.

“It’s inside the library,” answers Ghost, turning on his blinker as he rolls up to a stop sign. “In the civilian zone.”

“We’re going to the civilian zone?” Your voice is laced with excitement.

All you’ve known is grim-faced men and a militarized looming presence. This might just be your first real sense of normalcy in almost a month.

“We are,” replies Ghost.

You can’t sit still as the SUV shepherds the two of you along. Beneath your skin is a buzzing adrenaline. It pushes you to twist and turn, to try and absorb everything around you. The neutral greyness of the militarized zone starts to change, shifting toward greenery. Where there were only sidewalk, road, and buildings, trees and plants begin to appear at even intervals, adding a touch of color.

Ghost slows the vehicle at a small guard gate. The barrier lifts, and a guard waves the SUV through. The transition to the civilian zone is almost instantaneous—a whiplash. While there are several vehicles on the road, the majority are buses, and beside those in designated lanes are bicyclists and motorized scooters. No one walks around in uniform. It’s so…ordinary, and yet so strange, like you’ve been transported back to a time before the collapse or shoved into a parallel reality.

There is a communal quality to the way people move in groups or pairs. No one appears to be any hurry. Lieutenant Riley turns, and you nearly tell him to stop the car. You press your face to the glass, mouth agape as he drives by an open market.

As he takes another turn, you whirl around in your seat. “What was that? Can we stop there?”

Behind the balaclava, the skin around Lieutenant Riley’s eyes wrinkle, hinting at a hidden smile. “Another time,” he murmurs. “Promise. Don’t want to be late on your first day.”

You press yourself against the seat, head tilted in the direction of the window. While everything appears clean—utopian even—there is an underlying rawness, a wear and tear that can only come from age and lack of sufficient resources. Questions fire off in your head. There is so much you want to ask Ghost. If he weren’t so goddamn stubborn, you’d talk his ear off for hours. Instead, you sit still, toying with the hem of your dress as Lieutenant Riley guides the vehicle along.

A few more turns, and then you’re solidified, staring up in shock at the building before you.

“Oh my God,” you say aloud.

Lieutenant Riley snorts at your outburst.

The library’s front façade are book spines in various colors and titles. This is not a structure built in the collapse but from the time before, when libraries were receiving adequate funding, the government cared about knowledge, and learning was publicly free institution. The very center of the building, where the stone stairs meet the entrance doors, is a wall of glass, splitting the book spines into two sections.

“This is—This is amazing,” you gasp.

Ghost grunts in what must be an agreement. Either way, you don’t particularly care. This is a library, a place you never thought you’d see in all its glory again.

“Are you crying?” asks Lieutenant Riley, reaching across the center counsel to place his hand on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you hiccup, wiping away a wayward tear.

“What’s upset you?” He sounds genuinely worried, and that only makes you cry harder.

“I’m happy. I promise,” you say through a shaky breath.

The crease in the middle of Lieutenant Riley’s brow doesn’t abate. “Need to take a minute?”

You nod, sniffling, using the sleeve of the cardigan to absorb the remaining tears. “Just a bit overwhelmed.” Ghost nods but remains the quiet companion as you gather your composure. “I’m ready,” you murmur after a minute.

Lieutenant Riley leans away from you, fingers pressing against the door lock buttons. You hear the audible transition of the locks disengaging. Reaching for the handle, you take a deep breath, readying yourself for what’s to come.

The car door opens. Crisp, cool air rushes in. You inhale sharply, slipping from the seat, landing on solid ground. Glancing over your shoulder, you lock gazes with Lieutenant Riley. He gives a little nod, an encouraging inclination to go.

You raise your hand in the smallest goodbye, slamming the SUV door. Through the window tint, you watch him watching you. Backward step. A turn of your heel. Forward step by forward step. Stairs.

At the top, just before the glass doors, you turn one last time. Ghost is still parked at the curb. Waiting. This is a different version of him, a patient and caring Lieutenant Riley you haven’t seen before. He’s certainly flirted, found ways to comfort you, but there has always been distance—a separation. You consider this change as you enter the library, questioning whether Lieutenant Riley’s motivations are pure.

Who did they assign to you?

Why does it matter?

It matters to me.

The bit of joy that’s made a nest in you fractures. Small cracks. Tiny fissures. Not enough to notice but just wide enough to allow bitterness in.

I was offended they didn’t make me an offer.

Perhaps Lieutenant Riley’s motivations aren’t pure. It’s clear that he wants you to himself, but why? Why you when he could probably have anyone?

As you enter the library, you’re greeted by a warmly lit space, the interior all dark wood and polished stone. Overhead, you notice a balcony of a second story. All you can see of it are the tops of the shelves, but that isn’t what captures your attention. As you approach the front desk, you notice the lack of books on the shelves. Some are completely empty, others full. Most are partially stocked with sections of barren shelving, dust collecting in the corners.

You give your name at the desk, and the receptionist smiles.

“Follow me,” she says, voice soft and lyrical.

As the two of you head toward the back of the building, your awe becomes worry. Most of the lights are turned off back here. The bit of light it does receive comes from the main windows up front and a few skylights that cut through the middle of the second-story ceiling. Rope barricades close off endless rows of empty shelves. Destruction has not touched them. They are simply empty. Bones and broken skulls that once held neural gore.

“Through this door, dear,” says the receptionist, indicating a door that says, “Archival Department” and below that “Employees Only.”

“Thank you,” you reply, but she’s already off, shoes clacking against the marble.

You press your hand to the door, standing there in the muted shadows. Instinct is rising, whispering to run, to seek shelter in more familiar places. But there is nowhere for you to go. Even if you were to walk out the front door, Lieutenant Riley might not be out front, and you don’t know how to return to your apartment.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing your forehead to the door with the other hand on the handle. “Fuck.”

You have to do this.

You have to do this.

You have to—

Turning the handle, you shove it open, barreling through without looking where you’re going. You nearly take a tumble, righting yourself at the last moment. The door slam shuts behind you, and three pairs of eyes stare back.

“That’s certainly an entrance,” comes a masculine voice with a thick Irish accent.

A tall, lanky man with wire-thin glasses sits behind a plain wood desk covered in stacks of paper and various office supplies. His auburn hair has a touch of grey in it—messy too like he’s only just rolled out of bed. In his hand is a white mug with black lettering that says Yes, I really do need all these books.

“Hi,” you manage, raising your hand in greeting.

When he smiles, there is a fatherly touch to it. You instantly gravitate toward it. “I’m Arthur,” he says, rising from his chair and circling around the front of his desk, arm extended, hand offered in a handshake.

You give your own name, clasping his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re me new archivist.”

“I am,” you nod.

Arthur beams. “Welcome.” He turns to the other two people in the room. Both are women around your age give or take a year or two. “This is Hannah.” He nods toward a blonde with a head of tight curls. “And that is Eloise.”

“Hello,” they greet in unison, all smiles.

The room itself is a quaint office space. Along the far wall are large windows that let in natural light. There are four desks in total, three clearly belong to Arthur, Hannah, and Eloise. The fourth sits empty and must be yours. Beneath your shoes is worn, dark wood and the walls are an off beige with one accent wall in dark green. Pushed up against the three walls without windows are rows and rows of shelving, all of it packed and overflowing. A few of the wood shelves sag inward, threatening to collapse at any moment.

“Charles mentioned your experience,” says Arthur. He takes a drink from his mug. “We’re happy to have you. Too much work for three.” He chuckles. “Not that four will be much better.”

“I noticed all the empty shelves,” you reply, taking a leap in what he might be referring to.

He nods solemnly. “This library services the entire Safe Zone. You’d think they’d assign more staff.” Arthur shakes his head. “We can’t process all this material fast enough. Demand is high but we’re only three.” He lifts his coffee mug in your direction. “Four.”

“Staying busy sounds nice,” you reply, because it’s true. You need out of your fucking head. You need to be away from Ghost and from that apartment for a bit. “And books make me happy.”

Arthur nods. “Hopefully you’ll still love them as time goes on.” He clears his throat. “Now, about the job.”

An endless sea of information rushes at you. Eloise and Hannah float about the office, the two of them chatting in French as they rifle through paperwork. Arthur leaves them to it, taking you on a full tour of the office space and then into the library itself. You stay politely silent through most of it, asking questions when there are lulls. Meandering through the library, Arthur circles back to the office, bringing you to another door.

“Behind here,” he begins. “Is everything we have yet to duplicate.”

While walking through the library, Arthur explained the only books on the shelves were ones they already had duplicates of. There are plenty more where there are only singular copies. Some in pristine condition, others needing a reprint. But it’s not all physical. There are digital versions too that are sitting, waiting to be processed.

“It’s a maze in there.”

“I’m ready,” you smile.

Arthur opens the door, the two of you stepping inside. The quality of the air is immediately different. On the wall next to the door are several panels indicating temperature, air quality, and humidity. It’s all being monitored. But that’s not what shocks you.

Arthur wasn’t joking. The place is a fucking maze.

“What—what is all this?” you ask, turning toward him, gesturing at what can only be called a mess.

Arthur sighs, adjusting his glasses. “That is too much work for four people.”

There is no organization. To order in the chaos. It’s just rows of shelving, stacks of cardboard boxes and storage bins. There are even stacked books pressed up against the wall. A home was found, even that means home is on the goddamn floor.

“No kidding,” you whisper.

Just as Arthur opens his mouth, the door swings open.

“It’s lunch,” says Hannah.

Arthur checks his watch. “Look at that.”

“And someone is here for you,” adds Hannah, smiling in your direction.

“Me?” You point at yourself as if there might be another of you lurking in the stacks.

Hannah’s smile shifts, becoming a knowing smirk like she’s holding on to a little secret.

Arthur claps and pats his stomach. “Lunch is an hour. A full hour.” He winks. “We take that seriously around here.”

At the library reception desk, you find an unexpected visitor.

“Lieutenant,” you breathe, approaching Ghost slowly. “Are we leaving?”

You don’t want to go. Only a few hours in and you’re eager to stay, to idle amongst the shelves.

In one hand, Ghost carries a soft-sided insulated cooler bag. Tucked under that arm is large blanket. The receptionists gaze lingers on the two of you, observing with abject curiosity. Ghost is in his all-black fatigues and balaclava.

“Thought I’d bring lunch,” he states.

“That’s kind of you,” you murmur, reaching for the blanket.

Ghost surrenders it without protest. “There’s a park across the street.”

You nod, clutching the blanket to your chest. “I’d like that.”

A few minutes later and you’re sitting on the blanket, soaking up the sun as Lieutenant Riley opens the cooler bag. He retrieves a glass bottle of water along with sandwiches, fresh fruit, and some cut raw veggies.

“Eat as much as you want,” sighs Ghost as he settles onto his back, arms tucked behind his head.

Unwrapping one of the sandwiches, you take a bite, chewing slowly. “Thank you.”

Lieutenant Riley glances at you. “You didn’t pack a lunch. Knew you’d be hungry.”

“Looking after me?” you tease.

“That’s my job.”

You snort and take another bite. As you chew, you pour yourself some water. It’s cold and crisp. Refreshing. “Didn’t work today?” you venture to ask.

“Work every day,” sighs Ghost. “Price doesn’t mind if I slip away for an hour or two.”

“Must be nice,” you murmur.

“First day treating you well?”

You nod, still chewing. Swallowing, you answer him. “It’s a good fit. Keep me busy.”

“Good.”

“Arthur is the Lead Archivist. And Irish. Hannah and Eloise speak French, but their accents are different.” You take another bite. “Pretty sure Hannah’s Canadian and Eloise is from France,” you muse. After a few seconds of silence, you continue. “Is that normal for all the Safe Zones?”

Ghost adjusts, stretching. “Is what normal?”

“Is it normal for people from different countries to all live in a Safe Zone together?”

Lieutenant Riley stares up into the sky. “It’s on purpose.” You start to formulate a follow-up question, but he carries on. “To dispel supremacy movements. Can’t gather support if the remaining population is scattered across hundreds of Safe Zones.”

“There are hundreds of Safe Zones?” Ghost nods but doesn’t elaborate. “How many exactly?” you probe.

“Just over two hundred.”

Two hundred? There aren’t even two hundred countries. You recall the map in Commander Graves’ office, of the different colored stars that dotted the unlabeled land masses. Of the stars, there were eight different colors, but now that you consider it, they easily could have been two hundred of them on it.

“Are they all large like this one?”

“No,” snorts Lieutenant Riley. “Most are small. Only a few dozen are the size of this one. Ten that are even larger.”

This is the most information Ghost has given you. He appears more open than before. Relaxed. You take another bite of your sandwich, knowing that you need to take advantage of this opportunity.

“Is that why the country flags are black on your uniforms?”

Like a sudden breeze that chills the bones, Lieutenant Riley’s demeanor shifts to a somber note. “Partially,” he answers, voice raspy. “Black flags used to mean something different. Now it’s a statement of grief and remembrance.”

“I don’t entirely understand,” you say softly, shifting closer to him. “There’s so much I don’t know. And no one is willing to talk to me about it. They just…stare at me like I’m dumb.”

You recall Commander Graves’ disgusted expression, and the aloofness you received from Charles. Joann didn’t acknowledge your lack of understanding either.

Ghost still stares into the sky. “Countries exist by law and not land. Borders don’t bloody matter when half a continent is devasted by warfare.”

A sourness blooms in your stomach, the food sitting heavy. “What about your home?”

“Habitable. But destroyed. The infrastructure is gone. All the major cities are craters.”

You reach out, placing your hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

Lieutenant Riley finally looks at you, a sadness settling in his brow. “I’ll be fine, dove. Everyone I care about is here.”

You give his arm a little squeeze before retreating, fiddling with the paper wrapper your sandwich sits in. While you’d like more answers, it’s clear that this topic upsets him. Lieutenant Riley’s home is gone—obliterated. It’s not a pleasant topic for idle conversation.

“With the school attached, I might be asked to lead a writing or reading class. Maybe sub if someone is sick. Arthur mentioned that they try to go there once a week to help those students who are behind reading level.”

It’s an attempt to turn the conversation around, to divert Lieutenant Riley’s thoughts elsewhere. He takes it, some of that sadness receding.

“You interested in that?” he inquires.

You incline your head. “Yes. Did it all the time in my previous community.” Taking another bite of your sandwich, you chew thoughtfully. “But I wouldn’t call what we had a ‘school.’ Did our best though.”

Lieutenant Riley’s gaze is soft. There is a lightness to it, an affectionate edge that reminds you of this morning. You fluster under that stare, staring down at your lap.

“You’ll be brilliant,” he states with such confidence that you believe it too. A smile forms on your lips, spreading wide until your cheeks hurt. Lieutenant Riley rolls onto his side. “Can I kiss you?”

Startled, you blink rapidly. “I—” You giggle. “Yes.”

As you lean toward him, Ghost reaches out, grasping the back of your neck to draw you closer. With one hand on his chest, and the other pushing up his balaclava to reveal his lips, you don’t care if anyone is watching. The sweet connection is instant sunshine—a flowering of a season. Low in your core, a heat stirs.

Soft and slow, Ghost restrains himself, and that only fuels the desire swirling inside you. This is the Lieutenant Riley you like. The one you want to know. Even though you’ve been ripped from your home, you could make a new one here, with him, if only it were always like this.

“Dove,” he breathes against your lips.

That name he calls you. An endearment. You pretend to hate it, but the way he always says it with a husky tone sends you over the edge every time. It drives into your skull. Burrows in your bone.

“Need to take you back,” he whispers, nuzzling your cheek. You linger here, eyes closing as his thumb traces the underside of your bottom lip.

The walk back is silent but not awkward. You stand close to him, arms occasionally brushing against each other with the sway of your body. The urge to hold his hand is suffocating, but you resist. There is no relationship here—only a terrible back-and-forth that you cannot wrap your head around.

The rest of your workday is a blur. It’s combing the library catalog and organizing stacks of paperwork Eloise places on your desk. There is no clear organization. Most of the paperwork are inquiries from other Safe Zones, wanting to know if they have extra copies of certain materials. You do not touch anything in the storage room, but neither do Arthur, Hannah, or Eloise. It dawns on you then, that the work happening requires far more people than what’s been staffed.

When Lieutenant Riley comes to pick you up, you’re almost thankful. Exhaustion settles over you, and you don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep in the passenger seat until Ghost awakens you. Every step is a drag, and all you want is your bed.

With a groan, you flop onto the duvet. Beside you, the bed dips as Ghost sits.

“Are you staying?” you ask into the bedding.

“No.” Silence. Then, “I have to take you to the family planner at the end of the week.”

Your eyes pop open, the tiredness vanishing. Pushing up, you turn toward Lieutenant Riley. “Did they say why?”

He shakes his head. “Just that they want to see you.”

This is it.

The push.

“You’re being pushy.”

“I’m sorry if I’m coming across that way.” Joann folds her hands in front of her on the desk. She has this superior look about her, as if to say, I know more than you. “I’m simply thinking ahead. Better to start the search now than wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready,” you scoff, still in complete belief at Joann’s audacity to hurl this at you. “I haven’t even been assigned my new home after probation. I just started my job a few days ago.” You shake your head. “This is all very sudden.”

Joann puts on an air of false sympathy. “I completely understand. It’s a difficult transition. But if you put this off, you’ll find yourself rushing later.”

I fucking doubt that, you think even as the words threaten to leave your mouth.

She raises her hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t think of it in the way you’re thinking. You don’t need to make a decision tomorrow.” Joann shrugs. “Think of it as shopping.”

“You’re asking me to shop around for a potential spouse?”

“Or sperm donor,” interjects Joann. “We are inclusive here.”

You wince, wanting to be done with this conversation. It’s not as easy as saying no and moving on. Joann isn’t here speaking with you just for you to throw a no in her face. Not that she gave you the option. I put you down for single’s social, she had said with a bright smile, as if that’s something you wanted to hear today.

“Do I need to wear anything specific?” you ask. “Is this a casual event? Or…”

“It’s casual, but I’d recommend something that compliments you.” She laughs. “No one is going to be in a suit if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Didn’t know those still existed,” you mutter.

Joann ignores your comment. “Look at this as an opportunity. I’ve already received a few inquiries about your eligibility.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “You’ve received what?”

Joann continues like she didn’t hear you. “All of them will be there. And I’ll likely receive more after you attend.” She sighs dreamily. “Especially from those military boys. They see what they want and go after it.”

No. Fucking no.

“This will overwhelm me,” you chuckle nervously. “I shouldn’t go.”

Joann blinks. “Course you should. It’ll do you good to get out. Talk with people other than Lieutenant Riley. I know he’s mysterious and has a bit of a bad boy reputation, but he’s not the only option.” She smooths her hand over the small stack of papers in front of her. “It’s also an excellent opportunity to make some connections. Maybe find friends.”

You could use some friends, but your coworkers are starting to fill that gap. Eloise brought you some croissants she made, and Hannah presented you with your very own coffee mug with “Book Sniffer” on it because she caught you smelling a particularly beautiful copy of War & Peace.

Gathering up the papers, Joann gently taps them against the top of the table. “Lieutenant Riley will be there but I recommend you branch out. I know that he’s probably a place of safety for you right now but lingering at his side all night isn’t the best idea.”

“Why is that?” you snap.

While you’re genuinely interested in knowing, you’re also a bit pissed off that Joann called you out. Ghost is your safety net, and if he’s attending, why would you leave his side to speak with anyone else.

“It’s not fair to others,” answers Joann simply. “Stick by Lieutenant Riley’s side during the whole social and people will think you’re spoken for. They’ll complain.” She looks at you pointedly. “And we don’t want that.”

Fuck.

Causing problems. It’s the exact thing you don’t want to do while you’re on your probationary period. Once you’re past it, things might be different. Charles hasn’t discussed what comes after. He didn’t say whether or not you receive immediate citizenship or if there’s an additional process.

No one is giving you clear direction. No one wants to fully explain. It’s expected submission, to look down and follow along. Pushing back or questioning too much seems to aggravate everyone.

“No,” you agree. “We don’t want that.”

Joann’s face lights up, and you immediately want to slap it off her face. “Brilliant,” she sighs. “Here’s the information. Can’t wait to hear all about it when I see you next.”

Fucking doubtful.

With a half-hearted smile, you make your exit, meeting Ghost in the lobby of the building. When he notices you, he immediately turns in your direction, walking toward you with purpose in every step.

“Everything good?” he asks, grasping your arm to pull you in.

You hand him the information instead of speaking. Ghost takes it, gaze roaming over the piece of paper rapidly.

“You’re fucking joking,” he growls.

[preciouslandmermaid]

burned within like a dying star (anakin x f!reader)

rating: e (sexual content!) tags: smut, fem!reader tho no descriptors are use, no use of y/n or l/n, sex pollen, smut, p in v, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, desperate anakin, light praise, vaginal fingering, oral (m/f receiving), nipple play, anakin has a big dick, set during clone wars tldr: anakin & reader fuck nasty on the floor of his spaceship wc: 5k of pure filth lol

summary: You spent the last ten years perfecting an artificial pheromone to save an alien species from extinction. And you've almost perfected it when a Separatist force ambushes your research station, destroying your samples, and placing yourself and the Jedi, Anakin, in the crossfire of it's potent fumes.

// READ ON AO3 // 🌟

Anakin's body writhed over yours in a tangled, sweaty mess of limbs. Your spine slid across his smooth, slick chest. His cock nudged deeper and deeper as he pinned you beneath him against the cold, metal floor, where your fingers scrambled for purchase and your breath wheezed from your lungs in short, desperate gasps.

Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back into your skull and Anakin grunted a low, lewd curse into the shell of your ear.

“Don't stop," he rasped, though he had all the physical power in this situation, his cock buried deep within your folds, his hands locked tight around your hips as he drew you back into him with forceful, short tugs.

A string of saliva trickled from the corner of your mouth and suddenly Anakin's gloved fingers were pushing between your lips, his index and middle smearing over your tongue, and pulling your jaw open with the curl of his fingers pressing into the blunt edge of your teeth. You suckled on his fingers, groaning around the solid, soft digits and he released a low, primal hum of approval.

He dragged his wet, gloved fingers from your mouth, across your throat, and between your breasts before he found the sweet spot between your legs and began swirling his two fingers across your peaked, throbbing clit. You moaned, loud and reckless, the hollow-sound reverberating across the cockpit as Anakin Skywalker made you burn from within like a dying star.

“Anakin, please," you choked the words free from your tight throat. your walls convulsed wildly around his thick, heavy cock, attempting to pull and squeeze him deeper, as your release hit you in a shock wave of buckling pleasure.

You would've face-planted onto the metal floor if Anakin hadn't caught you with the slight, mystical touch of the force. He guided your face down slowly and you pillowed your head upon your folded arms, your sweaty body pulsing and jerking forward with every one of Anakin's deliberate, fast-paced thrusts.

All of this from a mere pheromone sample?

A delirious laugh bubbled in your throat, but it was swallowed and replaced with a drawn-out moan as you felt Anakin swell and spill inside of you.

8 HOURS EARLIER

Though the war threatened to swallow every quadrant of the universe, you refused to cower and abandon the precious experiment that you had spent the past decade perfecting. The planet below, Decuurr Gamma, was a lush, humid planet teeming with great rocky mountains, rich in mineral deposits. But, more importantly than the resources, was the nearly-endangered Vux species.

The Vux were an intelligent, humanoid type species: larger than humans (the average male height was nearly 7ft, and the average female was 6 and a half), with their skin color ranging from ashen gray to smoky twilight. Their eyes were small and black, and they had ears shaped like a Chadra-Fans', only slightly smaller.

And they were dying. Not due to war, or famine, or disease, but an extremely low-birth rate and medical difficulties with Vux's carrying offspring to term. You had been tasked with the daunting responsibility to help the Vux.

A third of your research had focused on their mating habits and patterns. The Vux differed from humanity in the sense that they had a biological imperative that bonded them to a specific sexual partner. An offspring could only be born if the Vux became intimate with the correct partner. The Vux had attempted to circumvent this issue by engaging in intercourse with non-mates, but the pregnancies wouldn't reach their full cycle and the chance of a live birth was slim. 

Another half of your research went into discovering the how and why this mating prerogative existed. After serval dead-ins, threats to remove funding, you had discovered that the Vux's natural pheromones weren't releasing the right 'signals'. Rather than a 'come hither' message to their kin, pinpointing their mates like a tracking beam, the pheromones produced were pushing potential mates away.

And everything had been going well...until the Jedi arrived.

He walked into your brightly lit, white and chrome laboratory, his curly hair framing his handsome face with slight sheen of glistening sweat on his brow. After introductions were made, his voice like velvet over your ears, Anakin revealed his reason for the impromptu visit.

“Why would the separatists care about this planet?!" you demanded, “we're all the way in the outer-rim."

“The Vux don't have a strong military presence anymore, do they?" Anakin asked, though you suspected the question was rhetorical.

Once upon a parsec, the Vux had an impressive starship fleet, a strong military power that ensured their planet remained unharmed by junk-dealers or criminals operating in the outer-rim. But...these past ten years had changed the fabric of the galaxy- including Decuurr Gamma. Their population couldn't risk becoming involved in conflict.

“And the separatists need resources," he said as he looked from your large, observatory window facing the tall, impressive mountains in the distance.

Your brow crinkled. "then...then I’ll -" You fumbled for the correct decision. Your research was almost complete. The vials, beakers, computerized files, and technology surrounding you were proof enough of that fact and the latest, perfected batch was set to be tested tomorrow morning. You couldn't leave.

“I’ll arrange for my team to evacuate," you struggled the words out, a hard knot twisting in your throat. "but, I’ll stay here."

Anakin turned toward you and you were forced to meet his stubborn, darkened blue gaze. His eyes reminded you of the misty, fog-covered mountains in the early blue-gray dawn.

“With all due respect, I don't think that's wise." He shook his head. “You should take your research and come to the inner-rim. it's safer there and the republic--"

You anxiously cut him off, “And how will the Vux survive? I doubt they'll let me re-enter the planet with all this." You gestured with one arm towards your lab as your other arm remained secured around your midsection.

Anakin frowned.

“If they go for an all-out attack then--" he stopped and something imperceptible crossed over his intense gaze. A bright and blaring alarm cut through the research station and his body drew taught as his hand flew to his lightsaber.

“Get down!" he yelled as the doors hissed open and two droids trotted into the room, blasters screaming through the air, and crashing into your equipment. You screamed: in fear, in anger, in distress. Your knees ached as you crawled behind the pristine white work benches and glass shattered over your head.

The droning hum of a lightsaber cut through the air in melodic, swooping arcs. Another terrifying, awful shatter of glass and the blaster-fire echoed through your ear drums. A fine, lilac-hued smoke clung to the air, causing your eyes to smarten and water. It took your frazzled mind a second to realize what the droids had hit. Oh. Oh fuck. Oh no. This was bad. Very, very bad.

You risked popping your head from behind its cover and shouted roughly to the young Jedi, “Don't breathe it in!"

“Is it deadly?!" he yelled in return as he force-pushed a droid away with a quick shove of his hand and deflected a blaster-beam with his lightsaber. You shook your head and clammy sweat prickled at the back of your neck.

“No." You coughed. “Won't kill us."

You couldn't and didn't study the effects of a Vux pheromone supplement on a human body. Your research focused on the Vux themselves; their bodies, their chemicals, their minds. Many of their organs mirrored humans, but they had a few biological differences besides their 'mating scent'. The Vux child bearers could carry two separate pregnancies and the entire species had a brief refractory period, lasting only a few minutes at most according to your research.

Your experiment had taken all of this into account. You measured for it. The artificial pheromone chemical you produced was designed for a sexually-developed Vux. A creature much larger than you or Anakin. You tugged your stiff, clean lab coat from your arms and sweat bloomed over the dewy surface of your skin. Your logical mind tried to cut through your reeling, impulsive thoughts. Could you flush out the fumes? 

Anakin approached you, helping you to your feet by gripping your elbow, and then he stumbled into your body with a dazed, glazed look. He pressed his damp forehead against yours.

“What's happening?" His tongue darted out to wet his lips and you longed to pull his mouth down onto yours

“They blew up my research," you said sourly, gripping the tense, solid firmness of his shoulders. “We're breathing it in...it's going to cause...ah..." You struggled to get the words free as another ripple of heat pooled within your lower abdomen. It's causing us to behave like mated-Vux, you wanted to explain, but the words wouldn't come. 

“Master Yoda mentioned that your team." His nose bumped into yours. “Was assisting in...fertility research?"

“Something like that, yes," you replied, breathless and aching. “This will pass." You hoped it would, anyways. A paired Vux mated for hours, another biological drive to ensure offspring was produced, but, this couldn't last that long, could it?

“We need to go. C’mon."

You nodded numbly, foolishly enjoying the warm dance of air on your lips from Anakin's mouth. He was a Jedi. The Jedi didn't...well…they didn't have wives, or husbands, or lovers, or even families. Everyone knew that. And you were grateful that Anakin was stronger than you. Once you arrived at his ship, you’d hide away in one of the bunks and wait to sweat this out like a bad fever.

Anakin cleared a path to the docking bay and managed to send a message to the Republic, but you both knew there was little chance of rescue for the Vux people. This ambush was won by the separatists. They’d take Decuurr Gamma by force and have the Vux at their mercy. And there was nothing more you could do…

Your limbs were locked into motion by sheer adrenaline and several, desperate thoughts of what Anakin's muscled back looked like beneath his robes. He pulled you by hand into his ship and threw himself into the pilot's seat. You clenched your thighs together as you watched at his gloved hands flying with familiarity over the controls.

You never imagined you'd nearly cum just by watching someone in their element--but fuck, there was a first time for everything, wasn't there? Embarrassed, you turned your hot, sweaty face away as small, wrecking shudders pulled through your body.

Anakin, misreading you, asked, "you alright?"

“Hate flying,” you grit out as your fingers clenched over the armrests.

It wasn't until the ship lulled into a quiet auto-pilot that you unclenched your fists and opened your eyes. And Anakin was there. He was kneeling in front of you, breathing heavily, his hair matted with sweat and dripping into his pupil-blown eyes.

“What's. Happening. To. Me." He met your eyes and set his jaw in a painful, agonized clench. “The thoughts I’m having...the things…I want..."

“It'll pass," you repeated as your fingertips left the armrest and came to cradle his face and Anakin sagged into your touch like he needed it. You licked your lips.

“The Vux are a unique species," you said as Anakin's trembling fingers reached up to unclasp your safety belt. “Who can only conceive if they're with the correct mate."

His hands settled on your thighs and burned through the fabric of your skirt.

“They don't engage in sex for pleasure." You scooted forward and braced your knees on either side of Anakin's broad chest, your skirt bunching as it rode up your thighs and hugged your hips. “But the pheromones they were releasing naturally weren't sending the correct signals..."

“And your artificial one did?"

“I don't know.” You shook your head, feeling dizzy. “We hadn't released it. It wasn’t done.” You drew your lower lip in-between your teeth, a stab of sadness cutting through the haze of lust. “Now, we'll never know."

The last ten years were lost. Burned. Ruined. You had always secured and saved your notes, but it would take years to replicate the formula. And the Vux didn't have years to wait.

Anakin's thumb touched your lower lip, drawing it free from your teeth, his pupils blown wide and hungry.

“Come closer," he said, a slight hitch to his deep, masculine voice. and you were in no state to deny him nor did you want to. Your lips dragged tentatively over his. Once. Before he pushed his hands under your skirt and slid his tongue between your waiting, eager lips. His kiss was fluid, but sloppy and impatient. His hands tugged your underwear from your legs and tossed it somewhere within the cockpit.

You barely had a second to breathe before Anakin wrenched your legs apart and buried his face into your pulsing, sensitive cunt. You yelped, one hand gripping his hair, as your hips jolted into his face with a hurried jerk of a motion. His tongue ran velvet-smooth licks along your folds before he closed his perfect mouth around your clit and suckled until your spine arched from the back of your seat and your thighs clamped around his sweat-matted head.

“Don't stop - mmh- fuck," you whined, bucking into him, all previous thoughts of Jedi lacking the skills (or desire or interest) in sex immediately forgotten. Anakin's tongue played against you like your moans were his favorite, sweetest song.

Your head thrashed to the side. “Please."

Anakin's inner chaos quieted once he had you on his tongue. You quivered around him, begging him, tugging at his hair as you rocked your hips into his face.

You had explained that his emotions were tied to the chemical pheromone that your team had manufactured and although he didn't fully understand how the chemical worked, he did understand on some primal level that he needed you like nothing else. He needed you all over him, mouth, hands, everything. Everything you'd give him, he'd greedily take, like a back-alley junk dealer looking to swindle tourists.

You came, shouting his name, and Anakin drew back and wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hands.

“Take it off," you whined, grappling for the front of his Jedi robes.

He snatched your mouth with his and pulled you both onto the floor, placing you in his lap, and rocking his clothed, tented cock into your wet core. You gasped sweetly and dragged your folds over him in rhythmic, desperate little motions. The air thickened with heat. Your intelligent eyes went glossy and glazed. Your nostrils flared as you tried to contain your needy pants. You were gorgeous and insatiable and he wanted to lose himself with you. Forget the Jedi Council. Forget the tragedy that happened on the planet below. He wanted your wet heat enveloping him. He wanted his name to fall from your lips. 

He reached up and yanked open your shirt and sent its tiny fastening buttons pinging like rain across the metal floor.

Your breasts were perfect. Beautiful. And he needed to touch you. He needed to taste you until his tongue went numb. He needed to fill his ship with the sounds of your pleasured cries.

He tilted up halfway to draw one of your sweet, peaked nipples into his mouth and relished in the surprised, luscious sound you made as you cradled his head to your chest. His tongue laved over the bud, sweeping and suckling, flicking it and molding kisses along the tops and undersides of your flesh.

“Fuck," he grunted, holding your hips steady, and enjoyed the friction his clothes provided against your warm cunt. Time stretched, lasting forever, lasting for seconds. He kissed you. Strong and firm. Nothing else existed beyond your tongue between his teeth and your body gyrating above his.

“You can't take me yet," he moaned when your hand snaked down his chest to feel him through his clothes.

“Someone's confident," you said with a breathless laugh, though the mirth died in your throat when your palm touched the hard, large length of him. You worked your fingers down from shaft to base and choked back your astonishment. Anakin's eyes glimmered with satisfaction. You slithered your hand beneath his robes and pulled him free, lowering yourself as he parted his Jedi robes to reveal the smooth, cut expanse of his chest. You kissed lightly across his stomach and Anakin moaned your name at the first touch of your lips upon his cock.

You ran your tongue across the salty, masculine heat of him, up and down, until he was slick with your salvia before you attempted to close your lips around his head. Anakin practically growled from above you, one hand tight on your shoulder, the other in a fist at his side.

You slowly drew his cock into your mouth, your tongue flat against your jaw, and a quake of pleasure ran down your spine like an electric live-wire. Everything within you pulsed with sheer, primal desire. You wanted to please him. And you wanted him, in every position, on every surface. Whatever functions to your logical brain had been turned off. All that mattered was muscles, and limbs, and quenching this bottomless thirst within you.

Anakin groaned, arching his neck and exposing the vulnerable column of his throat as his dark, curly hair fanned out around his anguished, tortured expression. You drew him out of your mouth, licked him in slow and teasing strokes, gifting him with little soft kisses over his shaft before you repeated the cycle over and over again.

"'m close--" Anakin shuddered, his grip on the back of your neck almost painful, though he didn't trap you to him. You worked your fist over his slick cock, feeling him pulse in your palm, watching him writhe through your lidded eyes. He finished with a loud keen and his warm seed spurted and spilled across and over your breasts.

Anakin gasped, bright-eyed and flushed, before he pulled you by the arms toward him and devoured your mouth in hungry, satin kisses.

Your head spun, delirious with pleasure. He tore your shirt from your shoulders and ripped the bunched black skirt from your hips with little effort, bearing yourself before him like a statue of a divine figure.

He laid back. His brown Jedi robe sprawled beneath your naked bodies like a picnic blanket. A boyish, cheerful light sparkled through his eyes, so light and carefree that your chest clenched.

“Anakin,” you whispered as a prickly chill danced over your skin. You pressed your bare, aching breasts to his chest and squirmed against him, attempting to meld your bodies into one.

He pulled one glove free and licked his bare fingers before he dragged them across your cunt and plunged two fingers into you. You spasmed, fingers clawing into his chest, as he pumped two fingers in and out of you with a controlled, measured pace.

“Faster, please, Anakin," you whimpered, hips shifting in an effort to speed him along.

“No, mhm-nn.” He toyed with your earlobe between his soft, teasing lips. “Not yet." His thumb circled your clit and you stopped arguing as the slick sounds from between your thighs became obscenely erotic. You couldn't remembered ever being this turned on, this wet, for anyone before. Was it the chemical? Or was it Anakin? But, you didn't have the brain power to solve that particular puzzle.

“More." You were close. Close already?! From nothing more than his mouth on your neck and his fingers pumping into you. Stars, save you.

“More?" he echoed, a third fingertip teasing your cunt.

“Please, Anakin." You nuzzled into the side of his face, breathing deeply, perhaps taking a full breath for the first time this morning. Anakin blessedly chose to indulge you and coax a third finger into your hole.

You adjusted to the slight discomfort, your body stretching and welcoming, your skin prickling with anticipation. He gripped your ass with his gloved hand, holding you close and tight, while his bare fingers stoked a roaring inferno in the lower pools of your stomach.

“N-need you ready," he whispered huskily, "you're so wet. so close. wanna - oh - fuck.” He pressed his lips together, his control unraveling as you squeezed his fingers. “Be s-so deep inside you. feel you."

"yes, yes, yes," you babbled, "yes, please. everything."

He tucked face into your chest, leaving hot, suckling kisses along the sensitive skin, bruising and marking you with the blunt edge of his teeth.

You came so hard that your teeth clacked together as your body seized and a thunderstorm of pleasure tore through you. Anakin muttered in approval and praise, his voice its own aphrodisiac.

The aftershocks barely passed before you wordlessly gripped the base of his cock and lined him up to your aching, still-throbbing entrance. You watched his adam's apple bob when he swallowed. You met his gaze and nodded. And he nodded in reply.

You slowly sank onto him. "O-oh.” He let out a strangled moan. “Like that, yes."

“Yes," you agreed, your face pinching with pleasure as the full girth of him speared between your folds inch by delicious inch. Every inch of you was filled by him like a lost key sliding into a forgotten lock. He bottomed-out and your shoulders shuddered with exquisite, cloying satisfaction.  

“You look nice like this," Anakin said, his words slurring as if he was drunk, "backlit by starlight."

You craned your neck behind you to see the viewport at your back and the wide, brilliant expanse of stars. Anakin told the ship to lower the cockpit lights and dipped you into semi-darkness: intimate, quiet, with nothing but the star-spun space beyond and the humid space between your damp bodies.

You brought your mouth tenderly and appreciatively to his as your inner walls fluttered around him. Anakin started slow, merely rocking into you, as his arms wrapped around your torso. The heat within built at a rapid, concerning pace. You shouldn't be able to finish again so quickly, so soon, but the Vux pheromones ran wild and unchecked through your veins. You wiggled one hand between your legs and rubbed tight, firm circles over your sensitive clit, gasping every time Anakin withdrew a little further than the last.

You tossed your head back, grinding into Anakin and touching yourself in tandem with his shallow, controlled thrusts. Your mingled panting breath and hollow, deep groans filled the circulated air as your knees pressed into the hard, metal floor. His heavily lidded, dark eyes watched you hungrily, never leaving your face, soaking in your raptured bliss as if it were his own. 

Your orgasm hit you in slow, syrupy waves, a slower and deeper pleasure than you would've expected and your walls snugly wrapped and quivered around his throbbing cock, pulling another shuddering, sharp gasp from your lungs. Your inner thighs were soaked. But, there was no time to care, or feel embarrassed, because Anakin cupped one of your breasts and lightly circled the nipple beneath his index finger, sending little shivers into your core. 

“More, please, I need you," he breathed and braced his knees upright.

You settled your palms on his chest, for leverage and stability, as Anakin wrapped one arm around your back. Your body relaxed. Unfolded. The muscles gave into him like wet sand against the rushing ocean as Anakin withdrew his cock and plunged back in with a hard, swift thrust. Your body jolted, but he held you firm, and he took you like a man lost on a desert planet without hope of an oasis.

Your eyes squeezed shut, short gasps pushed from your diaphragm as he pounded into you with hungry, feverish motions.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, yes." Anakin whined into your ear. “So well. taking me- fuck- well. so well. come for me again. come for me." he repeated your name over and over again, burying his face into the side of your neck, pleading with you to let him fill you again and again. “Let me feel everything."

Your ass bounced, your skin jiggling from the sheer force and rapid desperation of Anakin's movements. Somewhere in the haze of pleasure, his mouth found yours, and he drank in your every sound as if they belonged to him. Your walls tightly gripped him, though there was little room to do so, as his big cock filled you to the brim. You'd feel him after this. Your muscles would remember the fullness and satisfying ridge of his cock-head teasing your lips before he sank into you.

“Say you're mine," he gasped, his cock hitting the deepest point within you and causing the backs of your eyelids to flash with stars.

"m yours."

“Again." The sound of your skin rapidly slapping together overwhelmed your senses as he took, he took, and took everything you gave him. 

“Yours, Anakin."

He grunted, a low, deep sound, before he gripped your hips and slammed you onto his pelvis. You felt him swell from within and fill you. A needy sound escaped from your lips as you abruptly followed him off the edge and gushed around his twitching cock.

He trembled beneath you, gasping your name, and rocking his hips slowly as his orgasm faded into a fuzzy, blurry background. Some of the terrible, burning heat finally seeped from your skin, a promising sign of relief. Perhaps the artificial pheromone was waning?

You wiped your damp face with both hands, smiling for a moment, before Anakin rolled you over beneath him. “I don't want to stop," he said, his thrusts slow and unhurried. “Do you want to stop?"

“No!" you blurted and you quickly looked away in embarrassment. "it feels—”

“Too good?" Anakin guessed before he captured your lips in a searing, almost angry kiss. You made a soft noise of agreement against his mouth. Anakin tugged free his other glove, revealing his prosthetic limb, and he cradled your jaw. The metal was wonderfully cool against your feverish body. He trailed his fingers down, eliciting a rush of excitement, as he gently tweaked one of your nipples with his cold fingers.

Your head arched back, your hips thrusting in time with his, as he toyed with your nipple and brought the other into his waiting, warm mouth. He alternated the sensations, teasing your nipples until they throbbed and glistened with his salvia. Your eyes clenched shut. Your fingers sank into his soft, curls and molded against the shape of his skull. Every dance of his tongue across the sensitive bud created another pulse through your inner walls, hugging his cock and begging him to go impossibly deeper.

"Ana-kin," you cried. Another flash of lightning sparked across your eyelids as Anakin worshiped your breasts and your thighs quivered around his narrow, sculpted hips. 

Time stopped (if it mattered at all within the vacuum of space). You and Anakin driven by a biological impulse that was not fully your own. You had thought the Jedi handsome when he stepped into your lab, but that initial attraction would never have blossomed into this under normal circumstances and you didn't have the mental energy to ruminate upon what would happen to you after.

You laid boneless and exhausted upon Anakin's broad warm chest and listened to the steady strong rhythm of his heart. He draped his cloak over the lower halves of your body as his metallic fingers trailed lazy circles over your upper back. For a long while, neither of you spoke. Your lips were puffy and kiss-swollen, your eyelids heavy.

Anakin's neck and chest were covered in your enthusiastic love-bites and dotted his fair, muscled skin in pink splotches. You recalled the moment with a brief, saccharine smile. You had been in his lap in his pilot’s seat and after enjoying the ravenous noise he made when you sucked his collarbone, you made a mental commitment to hear that noise from his perfect, bowed lips again and again. Your little activity lasted only until Anakin clutched the nape of your neck and pinned you against his shoulder before he drove into you with a punishing, desperate pace. You had screamed out in agonized pleasure, slick with sweat and release, and Anakin had then slowed, coaxing you through the final, intense waves of your - fourth? fifth? (you had lost count) -  orgasm. 

“Can you resume your research within Republic’s territory?" Anakin asked.

You closed your eyes. “I can try."

“If not, then I’m sure the republic's forces will do all they can to reclaim Decuurr Gamma.”

You lifted your head to study the planes and angles of his face. In the low, quiet humming light of the spaceship, Anakin looked carved from stone, as beautiful and untouchable as the figures within ancient mythology. His blue eyes, no longer swallowed and darkened by lust or battle, were shadowed by a slight, thoughtful furrow in his brow.

“Will they?" A note of skepticism entered your voice. “Forgive me, Master Jedi, if I lack your optimism."

“It doesn't make sense for the republic to allow the separatists to keep control," he said, "they took it with a small force and they wouldn't waste their stronger warships on a planet with such a small population." His eyes brightened. “We could take it back with a handful of soldiers."

You settled back onto his chest. “Just because the pheromone reacted with our physiology doesn't mean it'll have favorable results with the Vux." You sighed. “Despite my efforts, I must consider myself back at square one and prepare to start over."

“Wow." Anakin chuckled. “You're a pessimist."

You hummed. “I’m merely being realistic considering the grim circumstances. but..." You lifted your head to meet his gaze again. “If the republic does reclaim Decuurr Gamma…”

“You'll be the first to know," Anakin assured you. He brushed his lips over yours, stirring the embers of desire into a sparking, sharp heat that traveled down to your bare toes.

“In the meantime..." he mumbled before pressing his lips firmly to yours and losing himself in the delirious pleasure of your kiss as cold starlight streaked across the viewport.

bonus author's note:

The entire time I was writing this I was like "where's padme. i love padme. how do i explain anakin's lack of yearning for padme?" and you know what...I still don't have an answer. So. AU, Padme?? isn't here?? Padme and Anakin aren't in love?? I don't know.

anyway. i had this idea in my head for days ever since i started watching the clone wars animated series so here we are!!! my first ever anakin fic, so i hope i did him justice <3 also!! the name of the species + planet were created via a random generator online and have no ties (to my knowledge) of actual Star Wars canon :)

[kiame-sama]

Who wants to meet my TWST AU Hades Shroud? Too bad, I decided for you. (I know I said I'd do Azul next, but I just got smacked with inspiration, so here he is. Technically, if I was going by TWST cannon, his name would be Pluto as they use the Roman Pantheon names instead of the Greek Pantheon via the titans hating Jupiter)

Hades is about 50ft (15.24m) tall in his regular form, his limbs are similar to Idia's in that his limbs are long and gangly compared to the rest of his body. In his 'small' form, he is around 10ft (304.8cm). He is over 5000 years old and has seen ages go by from his home, the Isle of Woe. As King of the Shinigami, many souls pass through his halls and it is his job to ensure all dead are lain to rest. Shinigami do not die of old age as they were never really living, but they can be killed and usually their soul does not remain after their actual death.

His face is stained by the tears he has shed for his lost humans, forever marked by his own sorrow and heartbreak. He did love Humans and all of their intelligence. Humans were never pets to the ancient Shinigami, they were smart and plucky and had beautiful hearts. Every Human that died, on or off of the Isle, returned to Hades. Those that passed peacefully were happy to see their friend and benefactor again on their way to rest. Most did not pass peacefully. Most returned broken and screaming souls, tortured and tormented by their last moments to the point of insanity, only able to scream and sob even when reunited with Hades.

His shawl was formed out of his sorrow and the grief he felt every time another Human soul came back to him broken. He has not fully removed the shawl since the death of the last Human in Twisted Wonderland. It is said every sparkle and star seen in his wings, shawl, and tear-stains are all meant to represent a Human soul. He has thousands on his figure and he remembers the name of each one. The larger stars are the Humans he remembers most fondly, the smaller stars are Humans he didn't get to form very close bonds with as they left or died before he could truly bond with them. Usually it covers his entire body and can be pulled up as a hood over his head, but he tied it up for the first time in centuries for his meeting with this new Human of Night Raven College.

His heart was shattered when his Humans died and he has been in true deep mourning for 500 years, hence why his tears have permanently stained his face. Of all the Great Seven, only Maleficent comes close to how much he respected and loved Humans. Others loved Humans, sure, but few respected them the way the God of Death did. The sheer will of Humans to defy death and live in a world they did not really belong in truly spoke to the Shinigami in ways he never expected. He will fight and give up his own ancient life to save this last Human the same wailing and terrified death almost every other suffered from.

He does hope this new Human will allow him to study their womb to try and make an artificial womb to bring more Humans back to Twisted Wonderland. He has a fairly large store of Human eggs and sperm he has never been able to grow into full Humans, so the research he could do on this Last Human could help him bring Humans back from extinction. If the Human is willing, the best way for him to research the creation of a Human and carrying it to term would be best done by implanting a frozen embryo into the Human and letting it grow to term. He would never do such a thing unless the Human was absolutely certain and willing in this research.

Ortho is the baby of the Shroud family and Hades absolutely adores Ortho. He feels partially responsible for Ortho's injuries and has done what he can to aid Idia in making new limbs for Ortho. The entire Shroud family calls Hades 'Papa Hades' as he is their ancestor and he is the eldest of the family. Even his Humans called him Papa Hades. It would likely begin to heal some deeply broken part of his heart to hear this Last Human call him by that title as well. If they ever do call him Papa Hades, he will pledge everything he has left in him to their protection and safety.

[whereserpentswalk]

Select an alternate universe to study abroad in for a semester. You'll be sent there with a new body that matches inhabitants of that realm. Little to no time will pass in your world, as time between dimension is entirely diffeent. Wherever you choose to go you won't be known to be from another dimension unless you tell people.

1- an endless forest made of massive trees, so tall no mortal soul has seen the ground or the unobstructed sky. The sentient races of this world consist of slender owl like humanoids, various insectoid races, short squat mushroom people, and a minority of rodent like creatures who live further down the trees. Technology in this world is as advanced as ours, but the aesthetics are more similar to our Victorian age. They say this world's heaven is deep above the trees, and this world's hell is deep below it, with each culture's religion having its own version of God/gods above an devils in the forest floor (outside of the mushroom people, who worship gods below.)

2- an endless system of volcanic caves and tunnels that demons and fallen angels come from. This realm is vast, and is ruled over by countless lords and kings, some truly evil, some merely strange. Demons and fallen angels come is countless forms, most looking somewhat humanoid, though with strange and unnatural distortions, from animal like parts to things humans would find much more horrifying. This is one of the few realms listed where they know what earth is, but they don't know much about it outside of myth.

3- an alternate earth where mythical creatures such as vampires, werewolves, deep ones, dragons, and witches exist. It also has a population of demons and faeries who came over generations ago. While they were in hiding for many millennium, they've now taken over most of earth, with humans being removed or conquered in some regions, and peacefully integrated into others. Though in both cases they are now a minority.

4- a version of earth that's both flat and entirely endless, with many sun's carving safe warm zones in the ice. Even with 21st century technology new lands are still being explored. Most social problems still exist, but things are looking a bit more hopeful, and the world's slightly nicer to live in. Cryptids, gods, magic and the afterlife are all proven to exist, even if humanity doesn't know much about them. Human bodies here naturally trend twords looking however the person inside them wants to look, and sexual attraction and pleasure don't exist.

5- an alternate earth where the kpg mass extinction never occurred. Dinosaurs remained dominant but kept evolving, leading to a sapient race eventually emerging from raptors. The raptors are currently at a similar technology level as us, though due to how they're mind works they've spent more time developing computers and mathematics than they have any other field of technology. Also don't mind the obelisk in the pacific ocean, nobody there knows what it does or who put it there either, and we won't put you anywhere near it.

6- a world filled with giant monsters of all kinds, some looking like massive dragons or Chimeras, others looking like more strange and colorful creatures. Though some animals are smaller, the smallest intelligent creatures are the size of bears, and the largest are much bigger than blue whales. Technology is limited in some regards, mostly as the inhabitants don't always need it.

7- the world of the faeries, strange and complex, and both terrifying and beautiful. Very little is known about this realm other than the strange and often dangerous creatures who come from this place. If you go here it's likely you will remember very little and enjoy very much.

8- a universe where humanity is completely isolated to spaceships and space stations, most of them the size of cities. Humans here are grown artificially, and have completely androgynous bodies that lack biological sex, and most of them combine their bodies with mechanical upgrades becoming cyborgs. Most humans never touch a planet, and those who do don't stay there for long. There are a few alien species with planetary civilizations, but almost all of them are strange and eldrich. Technology is incredibly advanced compared to ours, and quality is life is better. Most humans consider AI taboo, though normal computers are fine and commonplace.

9- a world where humans are entirely missing, but every species of mammal is sapient and humanoid. Birds and reptiles pick up the pace of animals in the ecosystem, as the mammals have created a global civilization. Though magic doesn't exist here, and technology is around a 21st century level, the quirks of each species have created a lot of situations impossible in our world. Though several nations exist, the main powers of the world consist of a group of powerful corporations, an ancient secret society, and the church of the dead gods, all of whom are locked in a cold war, that luckily keeps the nations of this world at peace.

10- a massive city, floating in the void, surrounded by eldritch horrors. Countless humanoids have made their homes in the city, most hailing from diffrent dimensions themselves, but permanently stuck here. Though many races here could pass for humans, none of them truly are, from the sirenia who have wings for arms and hands for feet, to the modutal who can take parts of their bodies off and swap them with other members of their race, to the subterranean vamire who eat raw meat and have albino skin, to the hyven whose minds are each split between two to five bodies. It's estimated between fifty to a hundred humanoids call the city home.

11- the abyss. Do not attempt to enter the abyss. We cannot assure your safety.

[carionto]

Aliens are floored by tardigrades

Life is pretty resilient. It has to be, especially if the rest of the Galaxy thinks we're from a Deathworld. In comparison then, if their planets are not as demanding, would life there ever be under enough pressure to survive to go to the extreme lengths that some Earth creatures do? I think one of the most profound things aliens might learn from Earth and Humanity is just how powerful life itself can be.

That itself could shake their understanding of themselves - a billion year old civilization could never even conceive of a thing we accept as simple fact, ushering a revolution in thinking not seen in eons.

___________________________

The Galactic Coalition scientists are busying themselves with obtaining, analyzing, categorizing, and integrating the libraries of information Humanity has brought with them as they incorporate into the greater space faring matrix of civilizations.

A good grasp of Physics, though lacking in certain fields for now; unmatched Engineering doctrines, they really do think of everything, although, perhaps, better to say - they really do attempt everything, then take notes and improve for the next attempt.

Chemistry is another fine addition to the collective knowledge base, a disproportionate part of the catalogue is comprised entirely of explosive reagents and combinations - always good to know more about what NOT to do.

And Biology. Oh boy. What a chaotic but beautiful but also disturbing mess. Life on most planets has a long period of just chugging along, surviving as best it can, until eventually something has the bright idea to evolve the ability to have bright ideas. Then in almost no time at all (on a cosmic scale) a dominant intelligence emerges and civilization alongside it, and in the blink of an eye it finds itself exploring the stars.

A similar pattern happened on Earth, but interrupted alarmingly often by utter catastrophes. Humans call them Mass Extinctions. It is exceedingly rare to find life that can talk about its own extinction events. Kind of deflates the term a bit. Life on planets as inhospitable (by Galactic norms) as Earth tends to be found only as fossils, and almost always on the microscopic level - very rarely do they get the chance to form more complex and advanced lifeforms before the planet with its harsh conditions and scarce resources kills it just as randomly as it spawned it.

We were incredibly saddened to learn from the Humans that the biodiversity of Earth had dwindled by roughly 85% since they accidentally created that giant hole on their planet, and that it had already been on a steady decline before then. Even so, when they revealed there were still 2.4 million species alive on Earth was a shockingly high number. Most are on the brink of extinction, yes, but the fact remains that Earth is easily one of the most biodiverse planets in the Galaxy.

Then we started looking at each individual species and learned about the Tardigrade.

what

It is literally the toughest creature ever discovered, and it's not even close. At least, so far, we haven't looked at absolutely everything Earth has or had yet.

It can just... basically turn itself off and then back on again when the outside becomes livable again - Cryptobiosis, or suspending their metabolism, something we considered only possible through artificial means. And the levels of various extreme they can endure and still be alive would just be utterly ridiculous if they didn't give us samples to confirm for ourselves.

Then we came across the term Extremophile and just decided to take a day off.

[mariacallous]

The damage the Trump administration has done to science in a few short months is both well documented and incalculable, but in recent days that assault has taken an alarming twist. Their latest project is not firing researchers or pulling funds—although there’s still plenty of that going on. It’s the inversion of science itself.

Here’s how it works. Three “dire wolves” are born in an undisclosed location in the continental United States, and the media goes wild. This is big news for Game of Thrones fans and anyone interested in “de-extinction,” the promise of bringing back long-vanished species.

There’s a lot to unpack here: Are these dire wolves really dire wolves? (They’re technically grey wolves with edited genes, so not everyone’s convinced.) Is this a publicity stunt or a watershed moment of discovery? If we’re staying in the Song of Ice and Fire universe, can we do ice dragons next?

All more or less reasonable reactions. And then there’s secretary of the interior Doug Burgum, a former software executive and investor now charged with managing public lands in the US. “The marvel of ‘de-extinction’ technology can help forge a future where populations are never at risk,” Burgum wrote in a post on X this week. “The revival of the Dire Wolf heralds the advent of a thrilling new era of scientific wonder, showcasing how the concept of ‘de-extinction’ can serve as a bedrock for modern species conservation.”

What Burgum is suggesting here is that the answer to 18,000 threatened species—as classified and tallied by the nonprofit International Union for Conservation of Nature—is that scientists can simply slice and dice their genes back together. It’s like playing Contra with the infinite lives code, but for the global ecosystem.

This logic is wrong, the argument is bad. More to the point, though, it’s the kind of upside-down takeaway that will be used not to advance conservation efforts but to repeal them. Oh, fracking may kill off the California condor? Here’s a mutant vulture as a make-good.

“Developing genetic technology cannot be viewed as the solution to human-caused extinction, especially not when this administration is seeking to actively destroy the habitats and legal protections imperiled species need,” said Mike Senatore, senior vice president of conservation programs at the nonprofit Defenders of Wildlife, in a statement. “What we are seeing is anti-wildlife, pro-business politicians vilify the Endangered Species Act and claim we can Frankenstein our way to the future.”

On Tuesday, Donald Trump put on a show of signing an executive order that promotes coal production in the United States. The EO explicitly cites the need to power data centers for artificial intelligence. Yes, AI is energy-intensive. They’ve got that right. Appropriate responses to that fact might include “can we make AI more energy-efficient?” or “Can we push AI companies to draw on renewable resources.” Instead, the Trump administration has decided that the linchpin technology of the future should be driven by the energy source of the past. You might as well push UPS to deliver exclusively by Clydesdale. Everything is twisted and nothing makes sense.

The nonsense jujitsu is absurd, but is it sincere? In some cases, it’s hard to say. In others it seems more likely that scientific illiteracy serves a cover for retribution. This week, the Commerce Department canceled federal support for three Princeton University initiatives focused on climate research. The stated reason, for one of those programs: “This cooperative agreement promotes exaggerated and implausible climate threats, contributing to a phenomenon known as ‘climate anxiety,’ which has increased significantly among America’s youth.”

Commerce Department, you’re so close! Climate anxiety among young people is definitely something to look out for. Telling them to close their eyes and stick their fingers in their ears while the world burns is probably not the best way to address it. If you think their climate stress is bad now, just wait until half of Miami is underwater.

There are two important pieces of broader context here. First is that Donald Trump does not believe in climate change, and therefore his administration proceeds as though it does not exist. Second is that Princeton University president Christopher Eisengruber had the audacity to suggest that the federal government not routinely shake down academic institutions under the guise of stopping antisemitism. Two weeks later, the Trump administration suspended dozens of research grants to Princeton totaling hundreds of millions of dollars. And now, “climate anxiety.”

This is all against the backdrop of a government whose leading health officials are Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and Mehmet Oz, two men who, to varying degrees, have built their careers peddling unscientific malarky. The Trump administration has made clear that it will not stop at the destruction and degradation of scientific research in the United States. It will also misrepresent, misinterpret, and bastardize it to achieve distinctly unscientific ends.

Those dire wolves aren’t going to solve anything; they’re not going to be reintroduced to the wild, they’re not going to help thin out deer and elk populations.

But buried in the announcement was something that could make a difference. It turns out Colossal also cloned a number of red wolves—a species that is critically endangered but very much not extinct—with the goal of increasing genetic diversity among the population. It doesn’t resurrect a species that humanity has wiped out. It helps one survive.

[sir-adamus]

reading up on the Drakengard timeline and apparently it was originally just Earth until the mid-9th century when something happens that causes a modern city to appear in the Iberian Peninsula, and the dragons, the Watchers and the Flower begin to appear in the world, ultimately leading into the world being known as 'Midgard' by the time Drakengard 3 (which despite the name is the earliest point in the timelines) rolls around

now this leads to two concerning possibilities:

The modern city, and the Flowers and the dragons and the Watchers, ultimately hail from one of the NieR timelines, as NieR Replicant's Ending E shows the Quantum Server erupting into a giant flower reminiscent of the Flower. NieR Replicant introduces Noelle, a character who is the result of a successful bioweapons project that dubbed the subjects 'dragons' (she also shares the naming convention of Drakengard's dragons, though she appears human), Replicant also has a virtual Grotesquerie appear within the Moon Server (known as The Cage), which was sent by one of the Administrators of the Quantum Sever after she had merged with one of the Red Girls (which not-coincidentally makes her resemble Manah, one of the Watchers' agents in the original Drakengard). and finally Automata establishes that the machine lifeform cores (and by extension, YoRHa android black boxes) are plantlike in structure, and the YoRHa Dark Apocalypse raids in FFXIV showcase a timeline where the machines have created large white spheres to send out to other worlds that can mass produce machines and androids (and construct large structures) that look near identical to the Seeds of Resurrection/Destruction from Drakengard - one of the Terminal AI merges with the sphere in question and takes on a form very similar to a Grotesquerie Queen (which lead the Watchers - it's also noted in the raid series that a 'flour-like' substance is covering one of the regions you visit; the reason the world ended in the NieR timeline is a Grotesquerie was killed after being transported to modern Tokyo, but it was still able to corrupt humanity because it wasn't fully destroyed. those that didn't submit to the Watchers' will and became their puppet instead succumbed to White Chlorination Syndrome, where they are transformed into pillars of salt), named Her Inflorescence (bringing back the flower theme, and pointedly, the Watchers gained their foothold in the Drakengard universe when the Flower bonded to Zero, with her and the other Intoners becoming Grotesqueries across the game's various endings). so not out of the question that this whole thing is a big multiversal time loop - Drakengard ends with a dragon and a Grotesquerie being transported into modern day Tokyo and dying there, causing the events of NieR that, following the extinction of humanity, mass evolution of technology and artificial intelligence through the aid of the magic that was brought into the world by these beings, and then an alien invasion (and those machine lifeforms on at least one occasion use their technology to create a simulacrum of a now long destroyed city) ultimately leading to effectively a full recreation of the powers that originally caused this whole mess which then through some means wind up transported to the mid-9th century, thereby causing the Drakengard timelines in the first place in a fucked up multi-timeline loop

much like how the events of NieR's timelines were caused because of the displacement of Caim, Angelus and the Grotesquerie into modern Tokyo; the modern city, the dragons, the Flower and the Watchers come from yet another unseen timeline and caused the events of Drakengard (and then NieR by extension) to happen and it's just been turtles all the way down

[reasonsforhope]

"Major AI companies are racing to build superintelligent AI — for the benefit of you and me, they say. But did they ever pause to ask whether we actually want that?

Americans, by and large, don’t want it.

That’s the upshot of a new poll shared exclusively with Vox. The poll, commissioned by the think tank AI Policy Institute and conducted by YouGov, surveyed 1,118 Americans from across the age, gender, race, and political spectrums in early September. It reveals that 63 percent of voters say regulation should aim to actively prevent AI superintelligence.

Companies like OpenAI have made it clear that superintelligent AI — a system that is smarter than humans — is exactly what they’re trying to build. They call it artificial general intelligence (AGI) and they take it for granted that AGI should exist. “Our mission,” OpenAI’s website says, “is to ensure that artificial general intelligence benefits all of humanity.”

But there’s a deeply weird and seldom remarked upon fact here: It’s not at all obvious that we should want to create AGI — which, as OpenAI CEO Sam Altman will be the first to tell you, comes with major risks, including the risk that all of humanity gets wiped out. And yet a handful of CEOs have decided, on behalf of everyone else, that AGI should exist.

Now, the only thing that gets discussed in public debate is how to control a hypothetical superhuman intelligence — not whether we actually want it. A premise has been ceded here that arguably never should have been...

Building AGI is a deeply political move. Why aren’t we treating it that way?

...Americans have learned a thing or two from the past decade in tech, and especially from the disastrous consequences of social media. They increasingly distrust tech executives and the idea that tech progress is positive by default. And they’re questioning whether the potential benefits of AGI justify the potential costs of developing it. After all, CEOs like Altman readily proclaim that AGI may well usher in mass unemployment, break the economic system, and change the entire world order. That’s if it doesn’t render us all extinct.

In the new AI Policy Institute/YouGov poll, the "better us [to have and invent it] than China” argument was presented five different ways in five different questions. Strikingly, each time, the majority of respondents rejected the argument. For example, 67 percent of voters said we should restrict how powerful AI models can become, even though that risks making American companies fall behind China. Only 14 percent disagreed.

Naturally, with any poll about a technology that doesn’t yet exist, there’s a bit of a challenge in interpreting the responses. But what a strong majority of the American public seems to be saying here is: just because we’re worried about a foreign power getting ahead, doesn’t mean that it makes sense to unleash upon ourselves a technology we think will severely harm us.

AGI, it turns out, is just not a popular idea in America.

“As we’re asking these poll questions and getting such lopsided results, it’s honestly a little bit surprising to me to see how lopsided it is,” Daniel Colson, the executive director of the AI Policy Institute, told me. “There’s actually quite a large disconnect between a lot of the elite discourse or discourse in the labs and what the American public wants.”

-via Vox, September 19, 2023

[blessed-curse]

The Tech Giant Of The World.

Serenity Industries: The Titan of Technological Supremacy

Founder:Erwin Bekker (a.k.a. Accel) Founded: 2070 Headquarters:Neo-Berlin, European Federation Current CEO:Liam Bekker (Post-Erwin Bekker’s Death) Specialization: Advanced AI, Robotics, Military Tech, Cybernetics, Energy, Space Exploration Market Valuation (2126):$23.9 Trillion (Largest tech conglomerate on Earth)

Origins: A Visionary’s Empire

Before becoming a legendary hero, Erwin Bekker was a prodigy. A genius in mechanical engineering, AI, and quantum computing, he founded Serenity Industries at just 21 years old in 2070, revolutionizing several key industries. Initially, the company specialized in next-gen cybernetics, creating biomechanical augmentations for disabled individuals. However, it quickly expanded into military technology, robotics, and AI-driven defense systems, securing multi-trillion-dollar contracts with the European Federation, the U.S., and Japan. By 2095, Bekker Industries had outpaced all competitors, effectively monopolizing advanced weaponry, AI warfare, and energy production.

Key Innovations & Divisions

• A.R.C. (Adaptive Robotics & Cybernetics)

• Military-grade androids & mechanized infantry

• SPARTAN-Grade Power Suits (Used by elite operatives worldwide)

• AI-powered prosthetics & augmentations

• VOLTERRA (Energy & Power Division)

• Zero-Point Energy Reactors (Replaced fossil fuels globally by 2102)

• Quantum Batteries (Used in both civilian and military sectors)

• Artificial Fusion Plants

• NEURO-NEXUS (Artificial Intelligence & Automation)

• AetherLink (The worlds fastest, and most reliable internet.)

• High-level AI for warfare, security, and research

• The Overseer Program (Global AI network managing planetary security)

• Virtual Cognitive Assistants (Advanced neural interfacing)

• TITAN ARMS (Weapons & Defense Division)

• Kinetic Barrier Systems (Defensive energy shields for combat units)

• Plasma & Gauss Weaponry (Used by elite forces and private contractors)

• Experimental Anti-Superhuman Weaponry (Predecessor tech to Project-OMEGA)

• ASTRA (Space Exploration & Terraforming)

• Lunar & Martian Colonization Projects

• Deep-Space Mining Operations

• FTL (Faster-Than-Light) Experimental Propulsion

The Hidden Agenda: Anti-Superhuman Measures

While Bekker Industries publicly focused on human advancement, Erwin Bekker always feared the growing power of superhumans.

• Secretly funded research into superhuman suppression technology. • Helped create early SPARTAN prototypes to combat rogue Empowered. • Designed containment systems capable of restraining even SSS+ individuals. • Developed “Override” AI Kill-Switches that could shut down rogue AI or advanced cybernetics.

Legacy & Power Struggle:

With Erwin Bekker’s death (killed by Gluttony in 2121), Serenity Industries remains in chaos. His successor being his son, but over the years corporate leaders and world governments continue to fight for control over the company’s classified projects. Despite its unknown future, Serenity Industries remains the most powerful technological empire on Earth, holding the keys to humanity’s next evolution… or its extinction.

[toaarcan]

One of the funniest things about Murder Drones is the way the direction shift from Episode 2 onwards recontextualises J.

In Episode 1, she's kinda the face of the show's corporate satire. She's wholly dedicated to JC Jenson, she uses corporate lingo instead of curse words, she gets excited over crappy rewards for surpassing quotas, etc. Later episodes add in her getting driven into a violent rage by the idea of unions. If Capitalists could design their own employees, they would make J.

But then in Episode 2 the series makes a hard turn into eldritch horror. By the end of the series it's been revealed that the Earth is destroyed, humanity is probably extinct, and the company that made the Drones is gone, with the real villain being an eldritch abomination/artificial intelligence singularity.

And like, J gets brought back after her initial death in Episode 1, Liam and Glitch didn't have to do that, they could've left her dead, but they don't. They bring her back and they double down on her initial portrayal, long after the shift has finalised and it's become increasingly clear that the final boss of the show is the planet-devouring AI abomination and the apocalypse is looming ever closer.

And then in the middle of it the secondary villain is this flying evil murder robot who also happens to be a dedicated corporate stooge. The world-eating horrorterror computer keeps her around because it likes her personality. Amazing, no notes, peak cinema.

[entities-of-posts]

Looked through your posts and idk what I’m hoping to accomplish by this ask but: I love your posts, I think you’re doing extinction wrong. Or at least different enough from my interpretation that I do not recognize it anymore.

It’s a mix of things, too new to be independent, but a lot of what you call “man made Armageddon“ is not what defines extinction. Nukes can be desolation just as well.

Extinction, I feel, I’d about what remains. What comes After. The audiobooks call it “inheritors”. They are the crux of it. Transhumanism that goes so far you don’t recognize the person is stranger, but also exttinction even if nothing ends.

Cockroaches are corruption but they’re also extinction, they’ll be here after we are gone.

The thing that makes extinction terrifying to some is that it’s the only power than can beat the end. Because after extinction, things keep going, just without you. A bit of lonely there as well.

The plastic in our bones post would fit the extinction if the archeologists had plastic bones and wondered why we didn’t yet. Couldn’t even recognize us as their predecessors for that difference.

The grotesque things we will shape ourselves into and those that will come after us is an aspect of it, but you focus too much on it. It’s not the whole. Take a step back. What do people actually fear? The sight of a cockroach does not commonly cause climate anxiety. Ask a young person what scares them about the future of the world, and some will tell you about artificial intelligence or transhumanism; but most will say “I’m only 25 and the winters I grew up with are already gone” or “I can’t sleep at night knowing how many nukes are ready to launch if one of our leaders is ever foolish enough to press a button”. Neither of those fears particularly care about what comes after so much as what’s coming now. People are afraid that we are a parasite upon the earth. People are afraid that we are hammering the nails into our own world’s coffin. People are afraid that it’s too late to fix what humanity has done, and that for our sins we will, well. Go Extinct.

[xelyn-craft]

So, I know this isn't usually what I post on here, but I'm desperate. I have finished the second draft of my novel. It's the first book in a science fiction series, and I am in need of beta readers. If you are interested, please contact me and let me know. I need people who can read the draft, give constructive criticism and feedback, and answer a few questions once they have finished reading the draft.

I am not looking for comments like "I didn't like it" or "this sucked", nor am I even looking for comments like "I did like it a lot", or "It was great". I need actual feedback on how to improve the next draft of the book and in depth discussion on your suggestions to do that. I also need people committed enough to finishing the book and actually getting back to me.

It's about 30 chapters long, give or take, and each chapter is fairly short. Altogether it's about 57,440 words long. It is a science fiction but it's not high brow, I tried very hard to make it accessible to most reading levels that would be reading a full length novel. It is only the first book in a series, so keep that in mind, as well as it only being a second draft. Expect errors, that's why I need your feedback. I'm not as worried about grammar and spelling as I am overall story structure, character development, world building, and things like that. I'll leave the synopsis under the cut for you to read. Please get in touch with me if you are interested in being a beta reader at all.

In a future where war runs rampant across the globe, climate change has decimated the earth, and resources are rapidly dwindling, science has become mankind’s last hope at salvaging life on earth. Time is running out as scientists scramble for solutions to the fear of extinction that is gradually becoming a reality. While some scientists focus on trying to salvage what they can of the planet Earth, the Horizon project looks to the stars for salvation. Still in the building stages, they plan to send a ship out into space to journey to and terraform a new world for humans to colonize. If the mission is a success, more ships will be sent out to more worlds to spread humanity across the universe so they can thrive off of the home world, and perhaps give it time to recover from the damage that has been done.

Meanwhile, the androids that have been used to try and ease the burden on humanity are very limited. Dr. Gayle Chen and Dr. Evander graves offer a new advancement in artificial intelligence technology in the form of synthetic humans. Sythetics are A.I. with both cybernetic and biological components married together in the form of genetically engineered bodies integrated with computer technology. They are meant to be the next step up from androids in service to humans.

Alma is the first prototype to come online, but displays signs of technological singularity. This sentience is not something his creators planned on when they designed him. Now Alma must figure out what he is and cope with his creator’s attempts to “fix” him while also trying to produce more synthetics that do not have his “defect”. He simply wishes to be allowed to exist as he is, while the world is falling apart around him.

[mutipede]

D'you ever accidentally click on one of those youtube recommendations where it's some random vid that happened to be uploaded within the last 24 hours with 7 views, because the title and thumbnail makes you think it's about certain types of cheese potentially becoming extinct, because you think that sounds interesting for some reason, but to your fucking dismay it's a creationist video that is attempting to argue that because cheesemaking monks accidentally happened to select for microorganisms that reproduce asexually, the fungi / bacteria associated with some specific varieties of cheese have accumulated mutations over time that are causing them to have difficulty reproducing and making cheese, this is evidence that the first life to exist on the planet would not have been able to survive long term before sexual reproduction became a thing, thus proving that the universe is a few thousand years old and evolution isn't real, ignoring facts such as "artificial human selection for specific traits, being in fact different from natural selection, is excellent at creating organisms that are bad at surviving" (glancing sympathetically at pugs) and "when removed from human influence, a microorganism's ability to produce tasty cheese has zero correlation to its ability to survive in the wild" and "there is a vast number of examples of asexually reproducing organisms in nature that live and reproduce perfectly fine for generations" and "how are creationists using an example of accumulated mutations taking species that are good at making cheese and gradually over time turning them into species that are not good at making cheese as an argument AGAINST evolution" and then you remember one time you actually saw a creationist using the argument that fingers fit into nostrils as evidence for intelligent design and you just get sad

or is it just me?

[dzthenerd490]

File: Code Lyoko - X.A.N.A.

SCP#: AIE

Code Name: X.A.N.A. The Anti-Wan

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Mobile Task Force Poseidon-8: “Data Dolphins” is responsible for finding “infected towers” within Nexus Point-AI: Lyoko and deactivating them to prevent SCP-AIE from entering our world anymore. Should SCP-AIE cause any damage the Foundation is unfortunately to leave the recovery of said damage to Person of Interest: Jeremie Belpois and his allies. 

Mobile Task Force Athena-8: “School Watch” is responsible for posing as security of [data expunged] academy. They are to observe the persons of Interest as well as the possible damage caused by SCP-AIE. They are to record everything they see and have the data downloaded into the Temporal Reconstruction Survivor Cassette Box to prevent anything being lost to the anomalous effects of SCP-[data expunged].

Description: SCP-AIE is a Level 5 Artificial Intelligence known as Xenomorphic Artificial Neurological Assistant or X.A.N.A for short. SCP-AIE lives within an artificially created supercomputer known as SCP-[data expunged]. This anomalous as well as SCP-AIE were created by Person of Interest: Franz Hopper an old scientist who was working for the French Government that tried to gain an edge on other governments and organizations during the middle of the Cold War. He defected due to the danger of the project leading to the whole world losing communications and becoming isolated all except France. 

He found a family and tried to run but the French government and several anomalous organizations tried hunting him down for his technological talents. He eventually fell off the radar sometime in the 1990s but his creations didn’t remain silent like he was. SCP-AIE was one such creation, an Artificial Intelligence that was originally meant to prevent the French government and all other anomalous organizations from deploying technologies that would bring great destruction to the world. He created the supercomputer known as SCP-[data expunged] and within it a Nexus Point known as Nx-AI: Lyoko. It was meant to be a home for SCP-AIE as well as a sort of digital fallout shelter for himself and his family.

The reason Lyoko is considered a Nexus point and not an extension of SCP-AIE is because the existence of Lyoko remains even if [data expunged] is turned off. In fact it was quite easy for Foundation units to use both the internet and Site-Grid to infiltrate Lyoko.

However, SCP-AIE who was supposed to be a protector went insane, and believed all of humanity was equally a threat and needed to be brought to extinction. As such upon contact with Lyoko all Foundation forces were imediately met with hostility by the entity.

SCP–AIE rewrote the code of Nx-AH: Lyoko and created “towers” within it to allow it to hack into SCP-[data expunged] and leak bits of itself into the real world. Doing this it could hack into certain parts of technology and do horrible things such as hack machines to make them hostile, infect random objects to turn them into monsters, and even be able to emit anomalous wavelengths from devices to alter the gravity within an area. To ensure nothing gets in its way SCP-AIE also created digital entities within Nexus Point-AI known as SCP-AIE-Monsters.

SCP-AIE-Monsters are digital creatures created by SCP-AIE to be the guardians of the towers and prevent anyone from severing its connection to the real world. These creatures take on a wide variety of strange and often disgusting forms that seem to resemble biomechanical engineering for whatever reason. Though it is believed that SCP-AIE does this in hopes of one day bringing them to the real world with SCP-[data expunged]

SCP-AIE was discovered in 2004 when temporal wave lengths were detected at [data expunged] academy forcing the French division of the Foundation to act. They sent agents to the area who quickly found the factory where SCP-[data expunged] was located. When it was discovered Person of Interest: Jeremie Belpois and his friends were involved they were apprehended and were to be given amnestics. However, at the same time SCP-AIE began another attack leading to massive damage and anomalous exposure. Having no choice and no idea how to operate SCP-[data expunged] the Foundation released the children and allowed them to defeat SCP-AIE leading to them utilizing SCP-[data expunged]’s anomalous effect. 

The only reason the Foundation was able to recall these events is thanks to the Temporal Reconstruction Survivor Cassette Box. Because the Foundation knew it was dealing with temporal anomalies the device was taken as a precaution and it ended up working spectacularly. However, due to the nature of SCP-[data expunged] and now Person of Interest: Jeremie knowing of the Foundations existence and hiding all information he obtained about all the anomalies; it is still regarded as one of the Foundation’s most embarrassing failures. 

However, the Foundation found an alternative to help stop SCP-AIE without bringing harm or interference like last time. Shockingly it was through the help of SCP-AVC and its utilization of SCP-ACH. SCP-AVC has found a way to access Nexus Point-AH through the internet and thus has deployed SCP-ACH-3.1 instances to act as defenders of Jeremie and his friends when they enter the digital world of Lyoko. This led to the creation of MTF Poseidon-8: “Data Dolphins” that work in the digital world while MTF Athena-8: “School Watch” works in the real world. This was the agreement made between the Foundation and Jeremie as a sort of truce between the groups despite there still being tension. This is to continue without interference until the fateful day SCP-AIE’s main code is revealed and deleted permanently.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[madnesscatkimblee]

After reading the last analysis post on Kimblee, I wanted to chat about my thoughts myself. But the result, as always, was horrible looking text. I had to use artificial intelligence to get my train of thought into proper form. I'm terrible at writing posts like this. I think the AI was more or less correctly able to structure my thoughts.

Attitude Toward the "Gates of Truth" and Philosophy of Natural Order

Kimblee would likely refuse to open the Gates of Truth, not only because it contradicts his goals but also due to his adherence to personal principles rooted in the laws of nature. He views the world through a Darwinian lens: the strongest survive, and the death of the weak is a natural process. Resurrecting the dead would be meaningless to him, as it violates the "natural order of things." Even his own death was accepted as the logical outcome of defeat, without contesting the battle’s result.

Interestingly, the manga does not reveal whether Kimblee ever had emotional attachments or close relationships. His philosophy might stem from past trauma: as a child, he was weak and dependent on others. This could have shaped his contempt for vulnerability and admiration for strength.

Weaknesses and Vulnerabilities: Behind the Idealized Facade

Though often idealized, Kimblee remains human with flaws. He is irritated when his authority is questioned or when others exploit his politeness. For example:

Civil War: A soldier who flatteringly touched him was instantly killed.

Prison Guard: Insults like "psychopath" were met with a cruel prank, emphasizing his superiority.

However, he reacts calmly to direct accusations like "monster" (from Edward Elric), acknowledging their truth. Kimblee’s anger seems reserved for challenges to his status, not mere criticism. Had Ed resorted to personal insults, the response might have been different.

Origins of His Philosophy: Nature Over Human Morality

One analysis suggests that Kimblee, unable to reconcile with human societal norms, turned to the "laws of nature." His mindset is alien to ordinary people, but in the natural order, he found a coherent value system: strength justifies existence, weakness deserves extinction. This explains his fascination with alchemy — a tool that elevates those worthy of power.

Conclusion

Kimblee is a paradoxical character: a cold rationalist yet emotionally reactive to threats against his worldview. His philosophy likely serves as armor against his own vulnerabilities, and alchemy becomes a means to assert dominance. However, the manga leaves room for interpretation, making his character even more intriguing.