#Ocean Science Alert

[familythings]

Unpredicted Cooling of Atlantic Ocean - What are Consequences in North America & Europe

The Atlantic Ocean, a crucial player in regulating global climate patterns, is currently experiencing a baffling and unprecedented cooling trend. While the global climate crisis has predominantly led to rising temperatures, especially in the oceans, the dramatic drop in temperature in specific Atlantic regions has both astonished and alarmed scientists. This unexpected cooling, occurring while…

[xtruss]

‘Like Going To The Moon’: The World’s Most Terrifying Ocean Crossing

— Julia Buckley, CNN | Monday February 5, 2024

The Drake Passage is feared by travelers and sailors alike. Gerald Corsi/iStockphoto/Getty Images

It’s the body of water that instils fear and inspires sailors in equal measure. Six hundred miles of open sea, and some of the roughest conditions on the planet – with an equally inhospitable land of snow and ice awaiting you at the end of it.

“The most dreaded bit of ocean on the globe – and rightly so,” Alfred Lansing wrote of explorer Ernest Shackleton’s 1916 voyage across it in a small lifeboat. It is, of course, the Drake Passage, connecting the southern tip of the South American continent with the northernmost point of the Antarctic Peninsula.

Once the preserve of explorers and sea dogs, the Drake is today a daunting challenge for an ever-increasing number of travelers to Antarctica – and not just because it takes up to 48 hours to cross it. For many, being able to boast of surviving the “Drake shake” is part of the attraction of going to the “white continent.”

But what causes those “Shakes,” which can see waves topping nearly 50 feet battering the ships? And how do sailors navigate the planet’s wildest waters?

For oceanographers, it turns out, the Drake is a fascinating place because of what’s going on under the surface of those thrashing waters. And for ship captains, it’s a challenge that needs to be approached with a healthy dose of fear.

The World’s Strongest Storms

The Drake Passage can see waves of up to 49 feet. Mike Hill/Stone RF/Getty Images

At around 600 miles wide and up to 6,000 meters (nearly four miles) deep, the Drake is objectively a vast body of water. To us, that is. To the planet as a whole, less so.

The Antarctic Peninsula, where tourists visit, isn’t even Antarctica proper. It’s a thinning peninsula, rotating northwards from the vast continent of Antarctica, and reaching towards the southern tip of South America – the two pointing towards each other, a bit like a tectonic version of Michelangelo’s “Creation of Adam” in the Sistine Chapel.

That creates a pinch point effect, with the water being squeezed between the two land masses – the ocean is surging through the gap between the continents.

“It’s the only place in the world where those winds can push all around the globe without hitting land – and land tends to dampen storms,” says oceanographer Alexander Brearley, head of open oceans at the British Antarctic Survey.

Winds tend to blow west to east, he says – and the latitudes of 40 to 60 are notorious for strong winds. Hence their nicknames of the “roaring forties,” “furious fifties” and “screaming sixties” (Antarctica officially starts at 60 degrees).

But winds are slowed by landmass – which is why Atlantic storms tend to smash into Ireland and the UK (as they did, causing havoc, with Storm Isha in January buffeting planes to entirely different countries) and then weaken as they continue east to the European continent.

With no land to slow them down at the Drake’s latitude anywhere on the planet, winds can hurtle around the globe, gathering pace – and smashing into ships.

“In the middle of the Drake Passage the winds may have blown over thousands of kilometers to where you are,” says Brearley. “Kinetic energy is converted from wind into waves, and builds up storm waves.” Those can reach up to 15 meters, or 49 feet, he says. Although before you get too alarmed, know that the mean wave height on the Drake is rather less – four to five meters, or 13-16 feet. That’s still double what you’ll find in the Atlantic, by way of comparison.

And it’s not just the winds making the waters rough – the Drake is basically one big surge of water.

“The Southern Ocean is very stormy in general [but] in the Drake you’re really squeezing [the water] between the Antarctic and the southern hemisphere,” he adds. “That intensifies the storms as they come through.” He calls it a “funneling effect.”

Then there’s the speed at which the water is thrashing through. The Drake is part of the most voluminous ocean current in the world, with up to 5,300 million cubic feet flowing per second. Squeezed into the narrow passage, the current increases, traveling west to east. Brearley says that at surface level, that current is less perceptible – just a couple of knots – so you won’t really sense it onboard. “But it does mean you’ll travel a bit more slowly,” he says.

For oceanographers, he says, the Drake is “a fascinating place.”

It’s home to what he calls “underwater mountains” below the surface – and the enormous current squeezing through the (relatively) narrow passage causes waves to break against them underwater. These “internal waves,” as he calls them, create vortices which bring colder water from the depths of the ocean higher up – important for the planet’s climate.

“It’s not just turbulent at the surface, though obviously that’s what you feel the most – but it’s actually turbulent all the way through the water column,” says Brearley, who regularly crosses the Drake on a research ship. Does he get scared? “I don’t think I’ve ever been really fearful, but it can be very unpleasant in terms of how rough it is,” he says candidly.

Fear Breeds Fear

In 2010, tourist ship Clelia II declared an emergency after suffering engine failure in the Drake. Fiona Stewart, Garett McIntosh/AP

One other key thing that makes the Drake so scary: our fear of the Drake itself.

Brearley points out that until the Panama Canal opened in 1914, ships going from Europe to the west coast of the Americas had to dip round Cape Horn – the southern tip of South America – and then trundle up the Pacific coast.

“Let’s say you were shipping goods from western Europe to California. You either had to offload them in New York and do the journey across the US, or you had to go all the way around,” he says. It wasn’t just large cargo ships, either; passenger ships made the same route.

There’s even a monument at the tip of Cape Horn, in memorial of the more than 10,000 sailors who are believed to have died traveling through.

“The routes between the south of South Africa and Australia, or Australia or New Zealand to Antarctica, don’t really lie on any major shipping routes,” says Brearley. “The reason it’s been so feared over the centuries is because the Drake is where ships really have to go. Other parts [of the Southern Ocean] can be avoided.”

‘We Don’t Gamble’

Captain Stanislas Devorsine regularly crosses the Drake. Sue Flood/Ponant Photo Ambassador

Navigating the Drake is an extremely complex task that demands humility and a side of fear, says Captain Stanislas Devorsine, one of three captains of Le Commandant Charcot, a polar vessel of adventure cruise company Ponant.

“You have to have a healthy fear,” he says of the Drake. “It’s something that keeps you focused, alert, sensitive to the ship and the weather. You need to be aware that it can be dangerous – that it’s never routine.”

Devorsine made his Drake debut as a captain over 20 years ago, sailing an icebreaker full of scientists over to Antarctica for a research stint.

“We had very, very rough seas – more than 20 meter [66 feet] swells,” he says. “It was very windy, very rough.” Not that Ponant’s clients face anything like that. Devorsine is quick to point out that the comfort levels for a research ship – and the conditions it will sail in – are very different from those for a cruise.

“We are extremely cautious – the ocean is stronger than us,” he says. “We’re not able to go in terrible weather. We go in rough seas but always with a big safety margin. We’re not gambling.”

Even with that extra safety margin, though, he admits that crossing the Drake can be a hairy experience. “It can be very rough and very dangerous, so we take special care,” he says.

“We have to choose the best time to cross the Drake. We have to adapt our course – sometimes we don’t head in our final direction, we alter the course to have a better angle with the waves. We might slow down to leave a low pressure path ahead, or speed up to pass one before it arrives.”

The ‘Drake Shake’ and Broken Plates

Captains check the weather up to six times a day before departure to ensure a safe crossing. Jamie Lafferty

Of course, every time you get on a ship – whether it’s a simple ferry ride or a fancy cruise – the crew will already have meticulously planned the journey, checking everything from the weather to the tides and currents. But planning for a crossing of the Drake is on a whole new level.

Weather forecasting has improved in the two decades since Devorsine’s first ride, he says – and these days crew start planning the voyage while passengers are making their way to South America from all over the globe.

Sometimes they leave late; sometimes they head back early, to beat bad weather. Devorsine – who makes the return journey about six to eight times per year – estimates that the unusually calm “Drake lake” effect happens once in every 10 crossings, with particularly rough conditions (that “Drake shake”) once or twice in every 10 journeys.

Of course, he knows what’s in store long before the passengers reach the ship.

“We look ahead to have the best option to cross. Normally I look at the weather 10 days or a week before, just to have an idea of what it could be,” he says.

“Then I check the forecast once per day, then two or three days before departure I start looking at it twice per day. If it’s going to be a challenging passage you look every six hours. If you have to adjust your departure time, then you look at it very closely to be very accurate.”

His safety margin means that he’s calculating a route that will get you across not just alive, but also as comfortably as possible. Hearing an anecdote about broken crockery and furniture on another operator, he sighs, “That’s a bit too far for me.”

“Before you have any issue with a storm, you have to keep a comfortable ship,” he says. The safety margin is to be sure that the guests will enjoy being in Antarctica, and that we won’t turn around because we have a problem… like injured people.”

In extreme conditions, he orders extra weather advice from Ponant HQ, but if you’re imagining the staff on the bridge desperately radioing for advice as waves batter the ship, think again.

“It would never happen to be in the middle of the Drake with bad conditions, needing assistance from headquarters because it would mean we didn’t have any safety margin before departure. When we cross and it’s going to be challenging, we have a big safety margin and the ship is not at all in danger.”

They are in contact with headquarters with high level satellite antennae throughout the crossing, with both satellite and radio backup if needed – Devorsine says he can’t imagine ever losing contact, whatever the weather.

Antarctica cruise: The last frontier for a big at-last luxury adventure

A Dangerous Thrill

Aurora Expeditions' Greg Mortimer ship has a patented bow to make a Drake crossing more stable. Tyson Mayr/Aurora Expeditions

Devorsine, who now spends 90% of his time sailing in polar waters, feels at home on the Drake. “When I was a little child, I read books about the maritime adventures of sailors and polar heroes,” he says. “I was attracted by tough things – I like challenges. This is why I followed the path to be able to sail in these areas.”

His first experience of the area was doing a “race around the world” in a sailboat as a youngster, heading south from his native France and rounding Cape Horn.

“It was my dream because it’s difficult, dangerous and challenging,” he says.

He’s not the only one. Some guests are drawn to Antarctica trips because of the tough journey. “I guess [they] are attracted by these areas [of the Southern Ocean] because it’s wild, it can be rough, and it’s a unique experience to go there,” he says.

Not everone’s a thrill-seeker though. As managing director of Mundy Adventures, an adventure travel agency, Edwina Lonsdale is dealing with a clientele already used to discomfort – yet she says crossing the Drake is a “conversation topic” during booking.

“it’s something we would raise to make sure people are completely aware of what they’re buying,” she says. “[Going to Antarctica] is a huge investment – you need to talk through every aspect and make sure nothing’s an absolute no.”

Lonsdale advises that passengers nervous of feeling sick should choose their ship carefully. In the past, vessels heading to Antarctica tended to be uncomfortable metal boxes built to take a heavy beating. But in recent years, companies have introduced more technically advanced vessels: like Le Commandant Charcot, which was the world’s first passenger vessel with a Polar Class 2 hull – meaning it can go deeper and further into the ice in polar regions – when it debuted in 2021.

Two of Aurora Expeditions’ ships, the Greg Mortimer and Sylvia Earle, use a patented inverted bow, designed to slide gently through the waves, reducing impact and vibration and improving stability, rather than “punching” through the water as a regular bow shape does, which makes the bow rock up and down.

Lonsdale says that the fancier the vessel and the offerings onboard, the more distractions you’ll have if bad weather hits. Newer boats often have more spacious rooms and bigger windows so that you can watch the horizon, which helps to lessen seasickness. If the budget allows, she says, book a suite – you won’t just get more space, you’ll (likely) have floor-to-ceiling windows, too.

But a word of advice – she recommends a careful selection not just of the right operator for you, but of the ship itself.

“Just because a company has a fleet with a very modern ship doesn’t mean the whole fleet will be like that,” she says.

‘Act Before You Start Spewing’

At Cape Horn there's a monument marking the 10,000 sailors thought to have died navigating the Drake. DreamPictures/Photodisc/Getty Images

So you’ve conquered your fears, booked your ticket and you’re about to set sail. Bad news: the captain is predicting the Drake shake. What to do?

Hopefully you’ve come prepared. Most ships have ginger candies on offer during bad weather, but bring your own, as well as any anti-seasickness medication you want to take. Some passengers swear by acupressure “seeds”: tiny spikes, attached to your ears with a sticking plaster, designed to stimulate acupuncture points. Some ships offer acupuncture onboard; alternatively you can get it done beforehand, since the seeds last for some time.

Devorsine’s top tips are to keep your eyes on the horizon, hold onto the handrail when walking around, be careful around doors, and “don’t jump out of bed.”

Jamie Lafferty, a photographer who leads excursions on Antarctic cruises, says that of his 30-odd crossings, “I’ve had one where it felt like I was going to fall out of bed and that was the second time, way back in 2010 when there was a lot more guesswork involved. Crossing the Drake Passage is much, much more benign than it used to be thanks to the accuracy of modern forecasting models and stabilizers on more modern cruise ships. This doesn’t mean it’ll be smooth, but it’s vastly less chaotic and unpredictable than it used to be.”

His top tip? “Take seasickness medication before heading out into open sea – once you start spewing, tablets aren’t going to be any use.”

Warren Cairns, senior researcher at the Institute of Polar Sciences of the National Research Council of Italy, has a bit of extra help.

“The only thing that works for me is going to the ship’s medic for a scopolamine patch,” he says. “It’s so rough, normal seasickness pills are just to get me to the infirmary.” Although he has it worse than the average tourist – on trips to Antarctica, their research ships have to pause for hours to take samples. “The waves come from all sorts of directions as the thrusters keep it in place,” he says. “When you’re underway it’s a much more regular motion.”

Lonsdale says it’s important not to fight it if you feel ill: “Just go to bed.” But equally, she says, don’t expect it: “It may be calm. You may not feel ill.”

People suffer differently from seasickness she says. “The Pacific has very long, slow swells, Channel crossings [between the UK and France] have quite a bouncy experience. Lots of people say crossing the Drake in very rough weather is uneven enough to not make them ill at all.” On that plate-smashing crossing, for example, this reporter – who was watching 40-foot waves from the observation deck – never got sick.

Remember that however it feels, you’re safe. “There’s an extraordinary level of safety in the build of those ships doing this,” says Lonsdale. Add in the safety margins that the likes of Devorsine build in, and you’re in uncomfortable, but not dangerous, territory.

And if all else fails, remember why you’re there.

“The motivation and excitement to discover those latitudes is very important to fight the seasickness,” says Devorsine. Lonsdale agrees.

“If you were going to the moon, you’d expect the journey to be uncomfortable but it’d be worth it,” she says. “You just have to think, ‘This is what I need to get from one world to another.’”

[amnhnyc]

Research alert! A team of international scientists has discovered the largest known freshwater dolphin, an ancient species that lived in the Peruvian Amazon some 16.5 million years ago. Pebanista yacuruna, which likely measured 10-11.5-feet (3-3.5 meters) long, inhabited what is now the Amazon River basin before this system had its major connection to the Atlantic Ocean. 

“Discoveries by our international collaborative teams tell us the kinds of tropical life that existed during times in Earth’s history when virtually nothing had been known before,” said John Flynn, the Museum’s Frick Curator of Fossil Mammals and a co-author on the new study, which was published in the journal Science Advances. “This is crucial to understanding the history and pathways that led to the remarkably rich modern Amazonian biodiversity.” 

Learn more about this animal, and its surprising modern relatives, in our latest blog post.

[stellar-solar-flare]

Volatile | Chapter 2/3 | Steve Rogers x Reader

Explicit - 18+ only - Minors DNI.

Steve Rogers returns from a mission only to be immediately alerted about a medical emergency: you, the Avengers Initiative's leading science expert, have been hit by a potent, unknown aphrodisiac on your own mission. Pressed for time and out of options, he has to, together with the AI's medical department, figure out a solution.

Mutual pining, smut with feelings, eventual happy ending.

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, sex pollen, non-consensual exposal to sex pollen, dubious consent because Reader is under the influence of an aphrodisiac (but all sex is very much mutually wanted), protective & possessive Steve Rogers, Captain kink, praise kink, very light dom/sub elements, dirty talk, pet names, thigh riding, finger sucking, mention of non-con.

Reader specifics: She/her. Works as a science specialist in AI under codename Dr. Chiral for her chemistry proficiency. Six times PhD, an Avenger. Late twenties, no description of appearance given.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

<< Previous chapter

Chapter 2: Flammable

Chapter notes: This is just smut with some feelings thrown in. Read the content warnings before divign in, please, and do not proceed if any of that isn't for you.

6,198 words.

As Steve stepped through the airlock into the dim-lit containment room, you untangled yourself from the tangled sheets on the king size bed. The air condition was blasting but despite that, the only thing you had on was a white, thin t-shirt type hospital gown that was not doing a damn thing to hide your peaking nipples. It fell onto your mid-thigh, and while under some other circumstances, it might’ve been reasonably modest, right now it clung onto your damp skin tighter than a bathing suit as you moved to sit on your knees on the bed. There was a feverish glaze clouding your eyes as Steve locked the airlock door behind himself. Other than the bed and a small desk with a chair, there was a table loaded with water bottles and some fruit and protein bars you had obviously not even touched. The muted color scheme – a neutral combination of blues, greys and whites made the room feel like a hotel room or a set in a movie. The bed you sat on was a small ocean of tangled satin sheets, and the thought of you rolling in those in feverish wanton need…

“Steve,” you said, your throat dry.

His eyes raked over you, ever so slowly, and as he did, he saw your breath quicken. You didn’t seem to really believe that he was there. Maybe you had fantasized about this before he had stepped in. Maybe you had fantasized about him. Even with everything you’d said on the tape, all the things you wanted him to do to you that were now playing on repeat in his head, he just wasn’t quite sure he could believe that it wasn’t just the aphrodisiac talking.

But whether you wanted him for anything beyond this room or for just this moment, it was clear you trusted him. You trusted him to help you out in this situation, with something this incredibly intimate and volatile and vulnerable, and there was no force in the universe that would’ve made him deny you. Especially when that meant that he could touch you. There was no other reasonable solution to this. That choice had been taken away from him, and that meant he could let go. And maybe… Just maybe…

I was too much of a coward to tell you in Verona. That made two of you. And this certainly wasn’t the way he had envisioned this going down but he would be lying if he said that whatever that was coming was a task he was reluctant to take on. His eyes stayed on your naked, glistening thighs like he’d been possessed. The room reeked of you, the pheromones of your arousal whispering sweet invitation to him, and Steve gathered every last shred of his self-control as he reached for a water bottle on the table with one hand and put the shield down to lean against the wall with the other.

“Hey, Ace,” Steve whispered. “You asked for me.”

You blinked at the sound of his voice and scooted to the edge of the bed, standing up. It could’ve been a hallucination conjured up by your feverish brain. And you could’ve hallucinated a lot worse than Steve stepping through the airlock of the room in the stealth suit of all things. But his voice sounded familiar – it echoed through your hazed state like a beacon in the night. You had been aching for him, for his touch, every last bit of your soul and body calling out for him. And he had heard. He had come to you.

“Are you here?” you whispered back, trying to make sense of it.

He hadn’t been there in the lab. There had been only Bucky, and Sam, and both had smelled wrong. Both had been wrong. You wanted just Steve; you had always wanted just him. Verona. Moonlight. Words that seemed to have no bearing to anything that was happening now when the only thing your throbbing blood was saying was Steve. You weren’t sure if you had been waiting for him for hours or for days or for centuries or for seconds, lying on the bed and floating in the half-delusional myriad of fantasies, touching yourself to the images of him but feeling no relief to the burning.

“I am, doll,” Steve said. “I’m yours if you want me. And only if you want me. The second you tell me to stop, I will.”

No. You absolutely weren’t going to do that. No chance in hell, when you finally had him.

Even in the small room, walking up to him seemed to take an eternity. His scent was faintly of musk and leather, mixed with something and something that might’ve been blood. It blended seamlessly into the deep, masculine note of the sandalwood-based cologne he always wore, blended with cedar and cypress and rosewood; a fresh forest smell that made your mouth water. In stealth suit, fresh from a mission. Shoulders accentuated by the uniform cut, wide chest above a flat stomach, strong thighs, large hands. He was the epitome of the masculine V shape, and he was yours. In the stealth suit.

By the time you reached him, you were barely able to hold yourself upright on your shaking legs. But Steve would’ve never let you fall. Before your legs could give underneath you, his free arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to rest against his body. The pleasantly cool, smooth Kevlar-like material of his suit felt like heaven against your body as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. He was looking at you, studying the fever burning in your eyes as you shivered upon the contact. Without letting go of you, he opened the water bottle.

“I need you to drink,” he murmured. “Your vitals said you’re dehydrated. You’ll need your strength.”

Obediently, you turned your head to the side and allowed him to lift the bottle to your lips. You hadn’t felt thirsty until you actually tasted the cool water Steve carefully held for you, but after the first sip, you greedily chugged the whole bottle. Steve’s eyes stayed fixated on your lips as you did, and he didn’t turn his gaze even as he put the empty bottle on the table and grabbed another.

“Still thirsty?” he asked.

The whole length of your body was pressed against his, and his thigh had slipped between yours to stabilize you further. Even through the fabric, he could feel against his palm how hot your skin was. You had come to him, out of your free will – as free as it could be under the influence of the aphrodisiac – and you were there, now, rising to your tiptoes and pressing your face against the crook of his neck before drawing a deep breath in. Just the scent and the presence of him seemed to calm you down, and maybe that meant he shouldn’t –

Your tongue licked a long, languid stripe over the side of Steve’s neck, tasting the salt of his skin and the musk that was simply Steve. As you did, your hips – the bare, soaking wet, burning apex of your thighs – rolled against his thigh, and the high whimper that left your mouth made every single thought empty from his head. He barely registered the drizzle of cool water that hit his cheek as the water bottle he had been holding had exploded in his flexing hand. As you lifted your head to look at him, not even noticing the water that had also hit you, Steve dropped the crushed remnants of the bottle and raised his hand to cup your cheek. Every single cell in his body was alight, painfully aware that you were still rocking yourself against his thigh, slight graceful movements of your hips chasing that delicious friction.

“Tell me you want me,” Steve whispered, looking into your eyes. “I need to hear it one more time. Tell me you want this.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a second, Steve felt like you saw everything, every single last fantasy he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom over the last few months, every thought of his that screamed how much he wanted this. But then, as his name left your lips in a desperate whimper that came combined with you pressing even tighter against his body, he realized that was all your lust. Heightened by the aphrodisiac but yours.

“Steve. I want you. I need you. Steve, please.”

His lips came down on yours, rough, greedy, claiming, and your body caught fire with that taste of his, that control and command that laced the kiss. Lust so violent that nothing you had felt during previous hours or ever in your life could compare slammed into you, crumbling into beautiful, empty whiteness everything except Steve. Your hands clawed on the suit, desperately trying to figure out how to get the damn thing off and have all that warm, masculine skin against yours. With his every single brain cell consumed by the kiss, Steve’s hand moved on muscle memory as he released the suit’s cleverly hidden clasps, the arm draped across your back never leaving its position. It was you, just you, your taste and your warmth and the delicious, tiny sounds you were breathing into the kiss as his mouth pressed against yours and his tongue ran over the pout lower lip he had stared more than he should’ve during all the meetings, his head running off with fantasies of just bending you over the damn briefing table and having his way.

His. You were his.

As the clasps opened, you yanked the suit almost violently down to bundle around Steve’s trim waist, and then finally, finally you could get your hands on all that muscle covered by silky skin. Had your lust-shorting brain had any remnant of control, you would’ve thought that it was almost ridiculous how he looked like a Greek god, how it was not possible for a human to be this chiseled artwork but frankly, you weren’t too concerned by that. He broke the kiss only to look at you, a large palm grabbing hold of your gown and yanking, and as the fabric gave like butter, he tossed it aside. It was his turn to get his hands everywhere, running over every curve of yours as you arched in his touch. Your hips rocked back and forth against the strong thigh between yours, and as he tensed the muscles, you whimpered. The fabric, smooth as it was, was almost too much in your overwired state and yet, you couldn’t imagine moving an inch as Steve’s dark gaze was fixed on your face.

“That’s my thigh, honey. Does that feel good?” he rasped, his hands moving to cup your butt for added stability as your own thighs trembled.

In response, you yanked his mouth down back on yours, delirious for the taste of him.  Steve’s skin was warm and you had an inkling it should’ve been feeling like it was overheating you even more but instead it seemed to help you concentrate onto something other than your burning. Every thought was emptying from your head as the coil was tightening in your belly, heat pooling down down down and sizzling with a promise of a climax that might finally bring at least a drop of relief. God, he smelled gorgeous. He was still fresh home from a mission, and there was that hint of pure peak of man in his scent that made you whine as you chased the peak.

“Steve… Feels so good…” you moaned to his lips.

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss onto your jawline and ghosting his lips down to whisper straight into your ear. “I’m going to make you come for me until it’s all out. I’ve got you now, honey. Let me take care of you. Let me see you come undone.”

Coming on his thigh, with those words falling into your ear like dark warm sugar, had sometime in the past felt like a filthy fantasy, and it was filthy, but it was exactly the right kind of filthy. The climax, coaxed further by his words, struck like a lightning, finally giving you a hint of shade when you had been lying on the desert sand. It was nowhere near enough, and the moment you stopped trembling and opened your eyes, the heat was already creeping back up. You needed more.

Good thing that Steve was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

I’m yours if you want me.

Keeping your eyes in his, still panting for air, you pressed your palm flat against the washboard of his stomach and slid your hand down, past the bundled suit on his waist, past the waistline of his boxers. Your fingers brushed tentatively over the base of his cock and then wrapped around it as you swallowed at the sensation of the size of him. He was burning hot in your hand and despite all his self-control that bordered on superhuman, he was breathing in ragged pants as your hand slowly caressed him.

“I need you,” you whispered.

And oh, he would give. The next thing you knew, you were being backed against the wall of the room as he tore the suit completely off and kicked his boots away, and then yes, all of him slamming you against the wall, all that glorious godlike physique yours to…

keep?

The thought circled somewhere around the edges of your scattered brain that was more concerned by the fact that you were being hauled up to the wall and his fingers were brushing up your thighs and –

“Oh fuck, honey,” he groaned as his calloused hand slid over your soaking wet core. “Oh jesus.”

All those times he’d fantasized about you. All those pictures he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom, all those ways he had imagined he would make you sing. All within his grasp. His lips were ghosting your ear, a gentle tug of teeth here and there and you both never wanted this to stop and needed it to stop because you wanted more, more, more, everything he could and wanted to give you. Steve’s voice was low and strained as he carefully slid a finger inside you:

“So wet for me,” he whispered. “So greedy.”

He was easily holding you up on the wall by one arm slipped under your butt as his other hand worked your core, the heel of his palm rubbing gently against your clit. Even as you were sensitive from the drug, it was a different kind of sensitive, something that made you whine and wither on his touch not out of discomfort but out of pleasure you hadn’t quite imagined possible. The chase for that primal satisfaction had you shameless; coming for him just minutes before had been a sip of cooling water but what raged inside you was a wildfire that had evaporated the relief almost as soon as the last wave had washed over you.

You needed more than his fingers. You needed to be full of him.

“Steve… Just fuck me, please.”

Steve Rogers was a strong man, but there was no possibility that he could’ve resisted the feverish plea that fell from your lips, you calling out to him, you asking to…  He wasn’t even thinking about resisting, no, the second the words had left your mouth he was shifting your weight in his hands.

“Don’t worry, doll, I said I’m yours,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will. That’s what you asked me to do, didn’t you? To fuck you against the wall like this, with my cock deep inside you?”

You barely recalled the words, the message you had sent, and it mattered fuck all now that he was here, lining up to finally, finally, finally give you what you wanted.

“That was a question, doll,” he rasped, his forehead pressed against yours and sweat sprinkling on it from the effort of trying to maintain at least an inkling of composure.

“Yes. Yes. I need you. I need you to fuck me and I need you to come for me; I need you to come inside me.”

You were so needy for him that he slid inside the second he pushed against you but despite the wetness, despite the burning, it was still a sensation that made your head drop back against the wall as you adjusted to his size. God, yes. This sensation of being full of him, precisely him and not just anyone, had been something you had craved from the second the sweet vapor had floated into your system.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock slammed into Steve’s brain, the force of the impact pushing out anything and everything except for the feral, primal animalistic need to keep doing precisely what he was doing. You were helplessly pressed between him and the wall, squeezing him, and with his hands full of your body and his ears full of your sweet moans, he was certain he was approaching some sort of ascension.

“Good girl,” his low, hoarse voice filled your ears like warm syrup. “You’re being so good for me.”

The feeling of your walls clenching even harder around his cock made him chuckle against the skin of your neck. He was throbbing inside you at the feeling, wanting this to last and wanting to chase the release he knew would be out of this world. You were burning hot in his hand, clawing at his back, incoherent at the feeling of him pressed against you and sheathed to the hilt inside you, his hips rocking with torturously slow pace that was pushing you towards the edge again.

“You like that, don’t you? You like me telling you how perfect you are for me, how well you’re taking my cock, doll?”

You were so close, so so so close again, and this time, it was going to be even better than it had been coming on his thigh. He had you, just like he always had you back on the field, that’s what you loved about him among many other things, the control, the command… And he had asked you a question. Before you could think, the words fell out of your mouth:

“Yes, Captain.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. In that second, someone poured a gallon of gasoline over Steve and threw a lit match to follow. Your words scorched every last cell in his body, the way his title rolled off your tongue making his head spin. His eyes flared into a blue inferno and his body slammed tighter against you as he lost his rhythm for a moment before stalling. You met his eyes and swallowed, because something had changed. Steve Rogers had dipped into Captain America, and you had seen that gaze of a hunting predator in his eyes on the field but had never imagined it in a context like this.

Truth be told, you had. But you had never imagined it would one day stare at you in the eye, his cock deep inside you. He had stopped, and you were barely coherent, swaying right there on the edge for him.

“Is that so, doll?” he chuckled, smiling like a shark that had smelled blood. “You want your captain to take the reins? You want to just focus on being a good girl and doing what you’re told?”

Your brain ways beyond being able to form anything resembling a sentence, you faced his gaze and nodded. You did trust him, from the bottom of your heart – you had known the moment you had started succumbing to this that if there was one person you trusted to get you out of this, it was Steve Rogers.

Your Captain.

The second your head moved in agreement, he slammed his mouth on yours, his hips moving to retreat almost completely out of you and then right back in with force that told you he had been holding back. And you wanted, needed, had to have everything of his. You buried your nails to his back as he ravaged you, his pace almost inhumanly fast but not for a second hurting. He would never. The climax that had been building itself up by coiling your entire body tighter and tighter was almost on the edge of snapping, almost almost almost –

“So fucking wet for me. So perfect for your captain. Come on my cock, honey. Let me have it.”

“STEVE!”

The fire that washed over you rivaled a supernova and you could feel your muscles clamp down on Steve’s cock almost desperately, and the combination of that and his name ripping from your throat in a desperate sob was too much for Steve, too. With one final thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could and came, your core fluttering around him in a way that awakened some deep, deep hunger inside him. He knew how you felt now, he knew how his name sounded dripping from your lust-crazed lips, he knew how wet you were for him.

He was so utterly, utterly ruined.

During the momentary lapse back to reason, he ran a hand over your hot cheek, looking into your eyes. You both were breathing in gulps of air as Steve slowly slid you down the wall, sliding out of you and pulling you to him. His hands landed possessively over your hips, and you hummed in pleasure, positively drunk over the feeling of being his, completely unashamed of anything as he kissed you.

“You did so well, honey. So good for me. I’ve got you; we’ll get through this,” he murmured against your mouth.

He wasn’t done with you – not for himself, and not for you. Not by a long shot. He could feel the burning on your skin, and when he mouthed the pulse point on your neck, he could still tell that your heart was beating like a hummingbird. And the second your hand dived between your bodies and wrapped around his cock again, he was hard for you.

God bless the serum and the heightened testosterone that followed. Even as his plans for you sat firmly in the realm of unholy.

The second you touched him, his palm covered the nape of your neck, grabbing it firmly to make you look up to his eyes. The climax wasn’t the relief you had been hoping for, not yet, it was something worse and something better, a tease, a promise of eventual one but not yet, not before you would come for Steve again and again and again. As of now, you were burning, burning still. Burning for him.

“The bed. On your hands and knees,” he growled, and you obeyed.

Of course you did. When he said it like that, just like he did on missions, it was a sign that he had the control and you could trust him. It was alright. You could let go. You could forget everything and let him lead, and there was freedom in that. The surrender was a cherry on the top of the lust boiling in your body, and when you felt him kneel on the bed behind you, his large palms caressing over your thighs and hips, you shivered. He leaned over you, above you, and you could more sense than feel his broad shoulders shadowing you as he kissed the back of your neck. You were trembling in anticipation as you felt him position himself against you, almost pushing into you but not quite. Not yet.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, his voice a dark whisper on your neck. “So good at following orders.”

“Yes, Captain. Please, I need… Please.”

Steve chuckled, and his teeth carefully nibbed your shoulder before he talked again:

“Good girls get rewarded.”

Any chance of you forming a reply to the words was gone the second he pushed himself back inside you, and the angle had him brushing against every single perfect spot inside you. He was so deep, even deeper than he had been and you threw your head back in crazed whimper. He was still draped over your back, and his left hand slipped under your body, pulling you tighter against him.

“Up, honey,” he rasped into your ear.

It was more a warning than an order, because in the next second, he had shifted on the bed to sit on his heels, pulling you flush against his chest as you straddled his thighs. He was all hard muscle and musky masculinity behind and underneath you. He positioned an arm between your breasts so that you were almost caged in his grip, his palm spreading possessively over your collarbone as his breath tickled your ear. Instinctively, you moved in his lap, arching back and grabbing the back of his neck for support even as his arm held you in place with ease. His bicep felt impossibly wide as it pressed against your side but you were far more focused on the fact that he was deep enough in you that he was hitting places you weren’t aware had existed. You flexed your thighs to cradle his in between, and god, those thighs were like two tree-trunks. The curve of your butt was pressed against the washboard of his stomach, and you felt his free hand caress the side of your hip before it roamed to your inner thigh. He still wasn’t moving, even as you were slightly rocking yourself back and forth, his patience almost impossible.

“Easy, doll. We’ve got all night,” he said, but contrary to his words, he pressed two fingers to draw small circles over your clit as he finally, finally moved. “We’ve got as long as you need.”

“Steve…” you whined as he rolled his hips.

He moved his hips and your entire body with such ease that you could feel electricity crackling on your skin. It was this apex of a man buried deep inside you, this impossible demigod that was so under your spell that he was already panting against your neck.

“I’m right here, honey. Fuck, you’re so tight,” he said. “Squeezing me so good.”

His far too teasing fingers brushed over your clit in time of his rubbing thrusts, and you were being wound tighter and tighter, another climax already building inside you and the peak was building higher than you had ever felt it, preparing for the collapse that was as inevitable as it had been to end up right here.

“I’m yours.”

“Oh yes you are, doll. All mine. Looking so pretty on my cock.”

Steve was mouthing the side of your neck, grazing with his teeth until he found a spot that made you whimper and latched onto that, sucking firm enough to leave a mark. You pushed your hips forward against his fingers, trying to get more pressure, trying to get him to move faster. The second you did, he pulled you back tighter against himself, preventing you from moving on your own but continuing to move both of your bodies himself.

“You’re going to let me, doll,” he growled. “You wanted to let go. So let go. Relax. Let your captain take care of you.”

He brought his fingers up from between your legs to your lips and you let your jaw drop open without a thought at all to taste the salty, tangy combination of you and him. As your mouth closed around his fingers in wet, warm softness, Steve moaned a strained curse against the your shoulder and picked up the pace.

You were gone. You were floating somewhere beyond all reality, somewhere where the only thing that existed was the man behind you and inside you and the burning in your veins that craved. Him, this, anything he could and would give you.

The feeling of you sucking on his fingers and your soaked core trying to desperately keep him from retreating as he moved his hips, your muscles clenching around his cock, was beyond Steve’s wildest fantasies. He was beyond any conscious thought whatsoever, his brain focused only on thought of spending the rest of his life buried deep inside you, pulling a peak after peak after peak from you until you were all spent and all his. With a lewd, wet sound, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth despite your whiny protest and pressed them again at your core to continue touching you in sync with his movements. You were almost there, strung tight with desire in his lap, your core slick and burning around his cock. He mouthed a path from your neck to your earlobe and teased it with his teeth, his breath hot and filthy and dripping with sin in your ear as you whimpered.

“You’re going to come for me, love. You’re going to come for your captain,” he rasped, the authority unquestionable. “That’s an order.”

His words pushed you right over the edge, collapsing the mountain that had been rising from the sea within you and the earthquake that came did Steve in, too. You could hear him moan your name into your ear as he came, the feeling of you irresistible as you came undone for him. It was an explosion that scorched through you, a heat that consumed the previous burn that had been in you, swallowed it whole like an exploding supernova swallowed a galaxy. Whole, and without mercy. It sent you falling back into what felt like a cooling pool of water after you had been catching fire, after a whole day spent in the scorching sun.

The whiteness that came after was still and absolute for a second or two and then you felt Steve’s chest rumble behind your limp body, his cock still buried deep inside you and his hands holding you so close.

“Better?” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Yes,” you whispered.

It was. You were starting to feel like you weren’t going to spontaneously combust but even as it was the case, you were far from exhausted, and Steve chuckled again as he felt your core flutter around him.

“Not done?”

You shook your head and he retreated back, kissing your temple and then whispering into your ear:

“Good. Cause I’m far from being done with you, too.”

In the late night, you descended back into your body from somewhere between fever dream and consciousness to find yourself comfortable in bed. A shape like a warm rock wall was pressed against your back, and you were being held in strong arms: safe. So safe. At some point during the night, when you had been finally feeling like you could sleep, Steve had carried you to the shower and spent long minutes washing your body. And of course, you had returned the favor, and gotten a taste of him. And of course, Steve had been able to take only so much of you kneeling on the shower floor with his cock in between your plush lips before he had had to haul you up and slowly, almost languorously have you against the tiled wall. And of course, you had come for him one more time even as you had been forced to consider that the next climax might be the one to shut your brain off completely.

There were worse ways to go.

In the dark room, wrapped in satin sheets that would probably have to be burned after this, you stirred once more. A gentle breath tickled the back of your neck, and even half asleep, you felt your lust wake, heat pooling into the bottom of your stomach and tingling all over your skin. The past few hours seemed like a pleasant, hazy dream that still caressed your body.

More. More more more more.

The greediness of your hindbrain coaxed you back to life. You rocked your hips back against the man that was spooning you, and drowsily whispered his name, still unsure which part of you actually knew it was him.

“Steve.”

The answer to your whimper was a dark chuckle and a slightly sleepy kiss onto your earlobe.

“Right here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Do you need me again?”

“Need you. Want you,” you whined, rocking your hips again, satisfied to feel that he was already hard.

Wanting you as much as you wanted him. One of the hands that held you slid down to grab your hips and roll you onto your back, and in the next second, he leaned over you to kiss you even as his hand slid down your stomach. Your renewed desire had you already wet for him again, and he groaned as he parted your folds to feel it.

“God, doll, how do you ever expect me to get enough of you when you feel like this?”

He positioned himself over you again, trailing slow, teasing kisses down your stomach as you tried to rock up to coax him on. His hands were roaming up and down your body, caressing your skin with the lightest of touches and stopping to squeeze every now and then.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

That lit a fire. Steve let out a harsh, ragged breath and moved down to sink his face in between your legs. There was no tentativeness to it this time, not after he’d spent the last twelve or so hours thoroughly exploring you, making note of every way you reacted to his touch. He knew what to do, and a proud shiver, like a predator shaking its fur dry, shot down his spine.

His. You were his.

He was absolutely merciless, his tongue never letting up even as your whimpers of his name grew louder with every movement. He was holding you down by your hipbones, your thighs resting on his shoulders, not letting you move an inch. The burning blue flames of his eyes looked at you as you writhed and whined and moaned his name for him, and a reminder of his eidetic memory crossed your mind. He would remember this, and the way he was looking at you, he was making sure that he would get every single detail. As he gently buried two fingers inside you, you were certain that you would’ve jumped on the bed had his arm not been firmly resting on top of your hips.

“I want to wake you up like this every day,” he whispered hoarsely, his head still in between your thighs. “I want the first thing you feel in the morning to be coming apart on my tongue, and I want to go out into the world with your sweet voice moaning my name echoing in my ears.”

Yes. Yes. Yes, please.

“Fuck, Steve…”

He cursed at the sensation of you clamping down on his fingers, desperate for the sensation of being full again because you were ruined, ruined, utterly ruined by him. There would not be going back from this, not after being loved and worshipped and fucked like this by someone who was closer to a god than a man.  

“Come for me, love,” he whispered against you, command and a plea at the same time.

What was there to do but obey as his fingers curled up, brushing against a sensitive spot inside you, and the endearment fell from Steve’s lips like a confession you had been waiting for?

The minute you returned to your senses, the self-satisfied chuckle that rumbled from between your legs gave you no other option than to beg for him to fill you? And with how wrapped around your finger he had already been for months, you could’ve asked Steve to fetch you the moon and the stars, and he would’ve obeyed without question. To sheathe himself inside you was certainly not a tall order, especially not with how you wrapped your limbs around him, trying to get him as close as possible.

It was love. It had to be, wrapped into the scarlet-red silks of lust as it now was.

When it finally settled down again, your voice hoarse from screaming his name into the dim room that was luckily very well soundproofed, he still wanted to hold you close. His fingers traced lazy patterns over your back.

“God, I should’ve said something in Verona,” he rasped into your hair as your warm weight rested against his chest. “About how much of an embarrassing crush I had on you.”

You shifted closer, soaking in the comfort of being cherished and wanted and protected like this, and when you smiled against his skin, you were already halfway back in a dream. It certainly was an unconventional beginning, and as the aphrodisiac was almost out of you, one sardonic part of your brain was wondering how you’d spin the beginning of this love story for the press. Which would certainly be foaming at the mouth when it found out two Avengers were dating.

“Maybe you should say that tomorrow, then,” you whispered.   

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

Next Chapter >>

[idkfitememate]

Welcome To Aperture Science

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! GLaDOS Reader x Raiden Shogun, Kujo, Aether, Dottore & Maillardet

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 6.5k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Reader is a insane robot, Mutilation, descriptive gore

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I ran into a bit of a dilemma in writing this. I realized that a lot of you probably would be able to get into the role of you were called “GLaDOS”, so here’s the plan. I tried my hardest to not have to use (y/n), but me thinks I’m gonna have to. The actual operating system will be called “GLaDOS”, but you yourself will be called (y/n). You’re replacing Caroline & GLaDOS. There will be a little surprise - since this is my ver of Portal (AKA throwing Portal into Genshin), so you’ll be introduced as (y/n)! If this ruins the experience, please let me know, and I’ll come up with something different! ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Also! GORE WARNING!!!! THERE WILL BE GORE!! I’ll post a warning right before it starts and a little thing for where it ends!! ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა

Finding out one of your islands is being used for things unknown is not something you want to wake up too.

But unfortunately, that was what Miss. Raiden Ei was subjected to this morning.

The apparent “island” wasn’t even actually an island. It looked like a small plot of land, with it’s only inhabitant being an old bot that resembled a Fontainian Meka - which was still active and very dangerous - and what looked to be some kind of small, one person hut. But when the fishermen who had found this island somehow managed to enter the hut, they found it actually housed a long, winding staircase that plummeted into the earth.

So of course this news was sent straight to Ei. As the Archon, anything that went on in her Nation’s boundaries that wasn’t documented was immediately brought up to her for investigation. In any other case she would have told the Tenryou Commission to take care of it or otherwise, but seeing as this was seemingly more than just a “island descending into the depths” - the fishermen also reported strange noises coming from below - this seemed like it would need to be handled with a more… direct touch.

Gathering her wits, she made a small “exploration team”. This team consisted of:

1. The Traveler, because why wouldn’t it

2. Kujo Sara, her loyalty will be of use

3. Maillardet, she had heard of his helping with the Icewind Suite Meka. His expertise may be needed.

And finally, though unfortunately,

4. Dottore.

As much as she may have detested the Fatui and their methods, she couldn’t deny they got results. And on top of that she had heard of his experiments on that of Ruin Guards, which again may be needed.

After making her plans and sending off letters to all she believed she may need, the Shogun began to wait.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍧🍯୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

It was dark in the Aperture Science building. Though it wasn’t silent. After word from the singular guard at one of many openings alerted human sightings after… years of nothing, you had to admit something inside you was excited.

It was in human and monster nature to be curious of the unknown. And with all the years since your last… nuisance test subject, you figured that Aperture may have been - more likely was - forgotten by those above.

You rapidly repaired test room after test room, rebuilding the facility to the best of your current abilities. Which wasn’t much a problem, because due to the lack of human error, you were able to keep the place up and running with extreme precision.

It looked just like when Aperture was first built.

With different power sources from every nation, keeping powered on was never an issue. The location that had been found by humans was the one that was powered by the never ending lightning storm that surrounded the nation of Inazuma.

The strikes of Electro traveled through the water into sensors placed on the ocean floor, that changed the pure Electro into actual electricity that was then used to power the specific part of Aperture Science that was stationed below it.

The real facility spanned all across Teyvat.

This was only the beginning.

And your cold heart was more than ready for this coming future.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍰🍫🍭୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

“I am shocked than and Archon such as yourself has called for me.”

All heads in the room turned to face the masked male.

Kujo immediately summoned her bow and pointed it at the man, while Traveler did the same with his sword. Poor Maillardet only ran behind the armed female, clutching her skirt.

Kujo glanced at him before pushing all attention back on Dottore.

“Please lower your weapons.” Heads whipped to look at the sullen voice of Ei.

“I asked him to be here. Please do not make this experience more difficult than it already may be.” Even she seemed… less than enthused by her actions, but the sudden silence- to soak up her words - was interrupted by the man in question’s laughter.

“And how shocked I was when The Tsaritsa said the Electro Archon herself had asked for my assistance in a ‘pressing matter’! Please, do listen to her and try to not make this difficult?” His grin unwavering. Aether scoffed and Kujo only huffed a small ‘Yes, my Shogun’, before turning to her backseat passenger who hadn’t moved since Dottore’s appearance.

“… What?” The brunette asked. Then he sighed. “Just because I build fighters doesn’t mean I myself can fight, Madame.” He quickly pushed himself off her and dusted both her and him off.

With one more sigh, Ei stood.

“Let us not waste anymore time. There is an odd island off the coast of Amakane Island. On it is a single individual that resembles a Fontainian Meka, and a hut. The odd thing being that this hut holds a staircase that “plummets into the earth”, so say my sources.” She then looked at the Doctor.

“Have your men done anything to this island?” It was a fair question.

It wouldn’t be odd for the Fatui to have a lab or something of the sort in a Nation without the Archon or Nation’s knowledge. In fact, it wouldn’t be the first time. Though - again - Dottore only laughed again.

“No, Miss. Ei. We haven’t any labs that “plummet into the earth”, as you say.” Kujo flinched at him not referring to her Archon by her title, but before she could do anything, she was stopped by a look from said Archon.

“Thank you for being honest,” she hummed, “Then we best be off. Who knows what we shall find and who knows how long we may be.” And she started off.

Following behind her was everyone but Maillardet, who looked confused.

“No equipment? No food provisions?” He glanced a guard who was stationed at a door nearby who shrugged. They both sighed and spoke in unison.

“Vision holders…”

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🎂🍬🧁୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Making their way to Amakane Island was easy enough. Making their way to the unnamed island was also easy.

The Meka that was guarding the small hut was… tall, to say the least.

“It looks vaguely like a Suppression Specialist Mek mixed with an Assault Specialist Mek…” Maillardet muttered, causing Dottore’s head to whip in his direction.

“So nothing you’ve seen before?” He mused, causing the Fontainian to glare at him.

“No.” He huffed, “It isn’t.” Dottore smirked at that answer.

“Then we have an unknown Meka on our hands? Perhaps made by someone outside of Fontaine-“ “No.” Maillardet interrupted.

“It still has hints of Fontainian handiwork. The way you can see some gears and cogs, as well as the fact that it’s utilizing Fontaine gun tech. It very well could be imbued with Arkeh energy. If I had to guess, Ousia.”

Everyone stared at the man, who blushed.

“What I’m trying to say,” he breathed, “Is that while it’s not any Meka I’ve ever seen, it’s definitely made by Fontainian hands. Sir Aether should know how to deal with it effectively.” Dottore stared at the man.

Aether nodded and jumped off the boat they all currently inhabited, and began to attack. The others stayed back and watched as he gracefully dodged attacks and fought back.

Though, in a sudden switch of attack, the bullets firing from the cannon on its arm changed to Electro-Charged pellets of water. The sudden swap shocked Aether and the Mek was able to land a few solid hits on the man.

Getting fed up, Kujo stood to fight, but Ei held her back.

“Those are Electro-Charged attacks.” “I understand Shogun but-“ “No. We’d only make things worse.” With a huff, the tengu sat down, glaring at the Doctor who dared to chuckle.

The fight continued on for a few more minutes before Aether came out triumphant. As the Mek collapsed, a voice rung out from its destroyed body.

“Warn…ing…Intruders At….Inazuma Ent…rance…Access Not Given…Send Warning To GL…a…” Before finally collapsing. Aether stood overtop its corpse before turning to the others.

“Well… I suppose we can continue onward?” Maillardet questioned, only to be met with everyone else in the boat jumping out onto dry land, once more leaving him behind.

The man grumbled as he slowly pulled himself out the boat, soaking his boots and pants.

By the time he made it, everyone but Dottore had made their way into the hut, on their way down.

“After you.” The bluenette grinned, and Maillardet shuddered.

And then they all made their decent.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍮🍯🍫୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

While the staircase itself was long and narrow, surrounded on all sides by pipes and cogs, what they found at the bottom was truly a sight; though they had been going down for a while.

A large open space - like a courtyard. There was artificial sunlight that streamed in from the panels on the ceiling that simulated a blue sky. False grass and trees swayed in a deceptive breeze. A ‘building’ sat before them with glass doors. It was grey and unassuming, the words “Aperture Science Laboratories” was in big lettering above the doors in big, illuminated lighting.

“Incredible…” Dottore mumbled as the group began to make their way down a path that led from the staircase to the building.

Just then, a sharp creaking noise was heard, and the staircase they had just traversed began to retract. It slowly made its way upward, lifting off the ground. Without flinching, Kujo summoned her bow and knocked an arrow, looking for a place to shoot. Finding a button near the staircase labeled ‘emergency shut down’, she shot, hitting it head on.

“Sudden Power Surge Detected At: Inazuma Docking Station. Rerouting Power Surge To Backup Power Supply’s. Emergency Dock Closing System: Initiated.”

And with that, the stairs shot up, effectively sealing the group inside.

“Sorry, Shogun…” was the only thing that left the now embarrassed Kujo’s lips.

“Worry not, I am sure we’ll find another exit eventually. Let us continue forth.” And onward they went.

Walking down the path, Dottore noted that there were hills far beyond the little building before them, fading off into the distance.

“I wonder how long this facility stretches out?..” He wondered aloud. Maillardet grumbled under his breath.

“Hopefully not that far…”

Entering the building they were met with something none of them - minus Dottore - had experienced.

Fluorescent lighting.

The light outside had at least been convincing, but the buzzing overhead and the slight flickering was enough to get under everyone’s - again, minus Dottore’s - skin.

“Whatever is this awful-“

“Welcome, gentleman, to Aperture Science. Humans, Vision Holders, War-Hero’s, Hybrids — you’re here because we want the best, and you’re it. Now, who’s ready to make some science?”

Weapons were immediately drawn from hearing the unusual voice.

“Who dared cut of The Shogun-“

“Now, you already met one another on the boat ride over, so let me introduce myself. I’m Cave Johnson. I own the place.”

Kujo growled.

“Well, Mr. “Cave Johnson”, I recommend you reveal yourself before we-“

“Mr. Johnson! I believe you’re forgetting something..? Or rather, someone..?”

All heads turned to the wall length screen that turned on with the new voice.

They were met with a cartoonish figure of a person, though their head was replaced by the grey, circle logo of Aperture. They were dressed in a white button up with a black vest overtop. With pure black dress pants and black dress shoes. A snow white lab coat over their shoulders and pure white gloves on their hands. The only hint of color or their person was an orange tie.

Dottore was the first to walk over, pressing a gloved hand to the screen.

“This is all absolutely incredible…” he spoke with a grin.

Nobody noticed how the figure flinched away.

“That eager voice you heard is the lovely (y/n), my assistant. They were added as a safety protocol in case some of you get lost. There are screens all of Aperture where they can keep a close eye on you, to make sure you stay in one piece, or at least as close to one piece as we can get you. Now, rest assured, they have transferred your honorarium to the charitable organization of your choice, isn’t that right, (y/n)?”

The figure on the screen - now known as (y/n) - nodded. Or… nodded as best a 2D model may be able to nod.

“That’s right, Mr. Johnson.”

“Since their addition, they have been the backbone of this facility. Pretty as a postcard too. Sorry fellas, they’re married. To science.”

They watched as you walked over on the “screens”, trotting all the way over to a pair of double doors. With one arm behind you, you held an open palm in the direction of said doors.

“Now, if you just follow them, they’ll take you right to the testing sites.”

With that small tidbit of information, the group reluctantly walked their way over to the doors. Pushing through them, they watched as you faded on the other side. Only for the walls of the hallway surrounding them to light up with bright white light, and for you to be on their right side, walking down the hall on your screens.

“There’s a thousand tests performed everyday here in our enrichment spheres. I can’t personally oversee every single one of them, so these pre-recorded messages’ll cover any questions you might have, and respond to any incidents that may occur in the course of your science adventure!”

You continued walking down the long hall, it slowly dipping further and further into the earth, but not to an alarming degree. A tune played throughout the hall, your head bobbing to the beat.

“Recorded..?” Ei asked. She turned to Kujo and Aether, who both shrugged. She then turned to Maillardet who muttered a quick ‘I’ve heard of it… that’s all…’ then looked away. Finally she looked towards Dottore.

“… Recordings are a rather new technology I’ve discovered. It’s a lost technique from long ago, the act of taking the waves of one’s voice down onto a physical form - such as a disk or a vinyl - and relaying those waves through a certain machine to recreate noises. I’ve been able to get my hands on a few, but to find one of such large scale, with moving images to boot! If I can get my hands on whatever is relaying these recordings…” His voice toned back when he realized he was walking alone.

Turning back he noticed that everyone had stopped behind him, confusion written all over their faces. He groaned, slapping a hand over his eyes before dragging it down the side of his face.

“It refers to something hearing noise, then relaying it at a later time when prompted.” And on they continued. It took a moment to catch up to you, as you had continued on your merry way while they had been stopped.

When they made it, Cave Johnson began speaking again.

“Your test assignments will vary, depending on the manner in which you have bent the world to your will.”

They finally made it to the end of the hall, with double doors greeting them. The doors opened automatically, opening to a large space, akin to an auditorium. Doors led off to different halls, each closed off by double doors that were identical to the ones they just came through. The room was surrounded by the Aperture logo, with small tables set up with small experiments on them. Walking past, Maillardet’s eyes glanced at a potato battery.

The most obvious thing in the room were the blue and yellow lines on the floor that each led to another room. You popped up again on a few overhead screens, though now you were sitting at a desk, typing away. You occasionally took a sip from a grey cup.

“Those of you helping us test the repulsion gel today, just follow the blue lines on the floor. Those of you who volunteered to be injected with praying mantis DNA I’ve got some good news and some bad news.”

Lights lit up over the blue lines and your figure changed to a looping recording of you walking on the lines and through the door.

“Injected with praying mantis DNA… why would you ever..?” Maillardet wondered with a grimace, while Dottore only smirked.

“I think me and this Mr. Johnson may have something in common. Anything in the name of science.” His grin made Aether shiver.

“Can we please just move on?” The blonde growled. He turned to the two females, only to find Kujo trying to open another door with Ei beside her.

“What are you doing..?” He asked. The General exhaled before turning back to the group.

“Trying to find another way out. Why are we even listening to this Cave Johnson person? We don’t know who he is, we don’t know where he is, we don’t even know what he looks like.” She walked over to another set of doors and tugged.

“She has a point.” Said Ei. “But in that same breath, we don’t know where we are either. The only thing pushing us forward is the voice of Mr. Johnson.” She placed a hand on the tengu’s shoulder.

“I feel it may be in our best interest to listen for now. When we find an exit, we’ll leave immediately.” Kujo sighed and muttered an apology before turning to the blue lines.

The loop of your walking through the doors still played above as everyone filled through the doors.

“Bad news, we’re postponing those tests indefinitely. Good news is we have a much better test for you: fighting an army of mantis men.”

“WHAT?!-“ shouted Maillardet. “WHY WOULD YOU EVER-“ A hand was slapped over his mouth as Dottore shushed him.

“I want to hear the rest of this.” he whispered.

“Pick up a rifle and follow the yellow line. You’ll know when the test starts.”

“Oh Mr. Johnson…” Dottore swooned.

“Only a rifle..?” Maillardet whimpered.

Kujo groaned. “Don’t worry about that now. We’re following the blue lines. Not the yellow ones.” Ei grinned slightly at the banter.

“They say great science is built on the shoulder of giants. Not here. At Aperture, we do all our science from scratch. No hand holding.”

“I really do like this man.” Dottore grinned.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍩🍫🍦୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Walking along the catwalks was a new feeling. Despite the no longer being really… anywhere… there were still screens nearby that depicted you walking along side the group.

Little to no effort was made to make any kind of conversation. Just the sounds of different kinds of shoes hitting the metal that made up the catwalks.

Though that all changed within a moment.

“Hello..? Hello??”

The sudden voice calling out made everyone come to a stop. Aether brandished his sword and turned to a pair of doors that led off the path they were being led down.

They waited with bated breath as the mechanical whirling of something moving towards them echoed in the open space. The walls themselves seemed to shift as whatever it was made its way to the door…

The doors burst open as a spherical robot with a bright blue eye pushed its way through the doors, pausing when it saw the group.

“Humans..? Humans?? Humans!! Wait… HUMANS?!?!” Its confound shock was extremely apparent, especially with the way it screamed out.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE?!?! I haven’t seen a human since… since… her…” It’s tone grew somber within a second, but then it shook on its… bar??? Grip??? Dottore wanted to know.

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is that you guys are humans! Actual, genuine humans!” It rolled forward on its… whatever and faced them.

“… None of you have the portal gun though.. oh. Do you have those ‘vision’ things? Because I can assure you they won’t be of much help here-”

“And why is that?” Dottore jumped in.

“… Well first off all, it was incredibly rude to cut me off there, secondly, Aperture focused on the sciences that… well, had to do with those who lacked visions. Now don’t get me wrong, there were certainly tests for those who had them but uh… yeah these were mostly for those without.” It nodded.

“I see… now. Do you happen to have a name. Or would you tell us what you are?” The Doctor asked.

“A name..? Right! Oh gosh, I completely forgot about that. Wheatley’s the name and… yeah I don’t know where that was going really. And to answer the other question, I am what’s known as a core, but where are you lot off to?” He introduced. Though before the blue haired doctor could answer, a voice rung out.

“They’re off to test with the repulsion gel, Wheatley.” Your voice ring out, and there you were on the screen, facing them with a hand on your hip. The core seemed the freeze up at your voice, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh! Uh… hey… (y/n)… hehe.” Wheatley seemed uncomfortable at now knowing of your presence, before something seemed to pop into his head.

“But… without the portal gun?”

“You don’t necessarily need a-“

“What’s a portal gun?” Maillardet questioned. You heaved a long sigh and Wheatley seemed to brighten up.

“We’ll only one of, if not the, best things Aperture has ever made, of course! It’s this nifty little gun that allows a person to go from one point, to another in just a snap!.. If I could snap I would to punctuate my point-“

“What he means-“ You interrupted, “Is that it is a special device that allows someone to manipulate space itself by opening up a doorway - otherwise known as a portal - and go from an unreachable point A to unreachable point B… or at the very least a vision-less ‘someone’. We weren’t able to test on those with a vision… or any non-humans with human intelligence; such as Oni from Inazuma or Adepti from Liyue. But even then our knowledge is… limited…”

Wheatley stared at you as you explained the Portal Gun in detail, before scanning the group.

“Oh! There is a vision-less with you!”

Maillardet swallowed nervously.

“Here, you won’t be at a disadvantage if you let us give you the Portal Gun! No need to feel like you may be falling behind… bloody hell you might even be able to go ahead and be advantaged in this situation!” The blue eyed bot explained.

“Wait wait wait… are either of you… alive or uh..” Aether stumbled over his words before you cut him off impatiently.

“Yes we are entirely sentient. Now Wheatley, we can’t make these decisions-“

“I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’ve been moping about for years! All because you ‘don’t have any human testers’ and ‘robots were starting to get the same results’ and ‘humans unpredictability made them unique’ and-“

“That’s enough, you idiot.” “HEY!-“ “Fine. Here’s how this will work, so be quiet and listen.”

Nobody moved.

“We will give your little friend access to The Portal Gun, you complete a couple tests for us, and we help you leave as fast as possible. Deal?”

“Well it doesn’t sound like we get much out of that deal besides our assured exit.” Ei stated, and you groaned.

“You’ll have access to technologies that those above this facility have not had access to for years. Plus, this will practically be free training. Now do we have a deal?” Your impatience was starting to grow clearer and clearer with each passing moment.

“Well-“ “YES!” Maillardet screamed. He didn’t care. This was his chance to truly make a name for himself. If he was able to get this ‘Portal Gun’ outside of the facility, the things he may be able to do with that tech…

Everyone looked at him with shock - though Dottore was more amused than anything - at how fast he agreed.

“Great! Wonderful even! Here, just follow me through here and we’ll get you right as rain, isn’t that right (y/n)?” Wheatley glanced at you as he turned on his rail. If you could, you would’ve rolled your eyes.

They watched as the screen you stood on blinked off, and Wheatley rolled away.

Maillardet followed behind and the others hesitated. Though after that moment of hesitation, they followed behind as well.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍡🍯🍮୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

Instead of the grey halls and metal walls they had become accustom to, they were met with greenage and foliage on all sides.

Flora of all kinds blossomed around them, tress that reached higher than any of them could see. They all followed behind the humming core, until he suddenly stopped.

“Now, this is a bit awkward, but my rail system ends here. I’m gonna let go, but I need someone to catch me. Do we have any volunteers..?” Wheatley informed and asked. He looked around the group only to make eye contact with Dottore. Who was grinning. Sharp teeth fully on display.

“Uhm… anyone..?” The robot squeaked. Though the only one who moved closer was Dottore.

He sighed, then ‘steeled’ his nerves.

“Alright, I’ll let go on the count of three- NO, ONE! If I do it on three I’ll chicken out and… mmmm I’m talking to much aren’t I? I’m nervous because of the very real possibility that you may drop me. Not to say you look weak or anything, you actually look quite strong. Has anyone ever told you that? I mean, personally I would prefer to be strong if I had a body… On that note I wished they gave us hands. That’d be nice. Or a way to move while not on the rail systems. They can only go so many places and so far, you know? And some of them end in the oddest of places. I found one that ended over a bottomless pit. Isn’t that just insane? I mean-“

Dottore grumbled something under his breath before moving directly below the blabbering bot. Then he cleared his throat, and screamed:

“ONE!”

The high pitched scream Wheatley let out as he fell would’ve been able to convince anyone that he was actually a girl. Dottore’s knees nearly buckled under the sheer weight of the still screaming robot in his arms. After finding his footing, they all stared at Wheatley, who continued to scream for a solid minute before realizing he wasn’t falling anymore.

“AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaa…. Oh. You caught me. That’s a first- Anyway, directions! You’re going to want to follow the greyed out path through the green, and you’ll find a platform behind some broken walls and such. I’ll admit, when you get there it’s a bit of a jump, but I have faith in you lot!” He… grinned??? Well it was as close to a grin as a giant metal eyeball could get.

Everyone hummed in response and continued to trek on. Every now and then Dottore or Ei would ask about a type of flower or plant they saw, only for Wheatley to say he’s neither the flower nor plant core. Which led to Dottore asking about cores and Wheatley offering an explanation.

“Cores are… well to put it in perspective think of the basic parts of your personality. Of what makes you, you. Cores are basically that! We work as the pure forms of interests or emotions. Such as the flower core, who only ever talks about flowers. Or the anger core who… uhm… well. He screams? I guess?” Wheatley answered.

“So… what do you embody? Fear? Worry? Rambling?” Dottore asked, only for Wheatley to shout in objection.

“No! Absolutely not! None of those things! In fact, just for that, I don’t think I want to tell you.” He spun his eye around as to not look at the man carried him, causing Dottore to chuckle.

Maillardet suddenly shot ahead, causing everyone to quickly follow after. Wheatley seemed to understand why he shot ahead.

“There she is.” He muttered.

Just behind a wall, there it was.

Placed on a pedestal, vines and flowers grew all around in a mesmerizing pattern. A small hole in the roof let a halo of light fall onto the midsized device.

It was sleek. It was shiny. White and black mixed together in a perfect blend.

“Isn’t it beautiful? The pride of Aperture. What nearly all of our resources went into after its conception.” Wheatley mused. His focus was entirely on the gun in front of them.

Though his previous statement was true, there was a rather large drop from the platform they were on and the platform the Gun was on.

“You can drop me here.” The core suddenly spoke. Dottore looked down with a bit of a scowl.

“Weren’t you the one who screamed like a baby at falling only about four feet?” He asked. Wheatley scoffed.

“That was the make sure you’d catch me… anyway, I know I can survive this fall. I’ve survived worse. Just drop me and then jump down. It’ll be easier that way.” Wheatley’s voice suddenly got very serious. it lost its lively charm and became something more robotic… which was ironic.

The robot started acting more robotic, and they felt uncomfortable about it.

Dottore scoffed, then dropped the core without care. Though this time, Wheatley didn’t make a sound, just a small grunt when he hit the floor.

‘It can physically feel..?’ Dottore wondered.

Then one by one, they jumped down - Aether catching Maillardet - and began their walk over to the Gun after Dottore picked up Wheatley again.

“Hold on.” The blue eyes core suddenly spoke. His eye turned to a wall, and the panels suddenly shifted. A small control panel pushed itself out, presenting itself to the group.

“Plug me in there. I can make sure nothing hostile happens to pass by.” He explained.

“Hostile..?” Ei questioned and Wheatley, suddenly seeming very tired, sighed.

“Yes. Hostile. Just- Don’t worry about it, okay? I promise nothing will happen.” He glanced back at the group with a drooped eye. Dottore placed him on the panel.

Electricity shot out for a moment, then the core settled. He looked back, then without a word, got pulled back into the wall.

“It looks… so mesmerizing…” Maillardet whispered. He was the closest to the Gun. He hesitantly reached a hand out and touched it. Then, he picked it up and got a grip on it.

“I can’t say I’ve ever shot a gun but…” The mechanic pointed the gun at a wall, away from everyone as they watched.

He shot the gun.

And everyone watched as a pure black circle surrounded by blue latched onto the wall.

Everyone stood in shock.

He hesitantly shot right next to the blue and was met with a circle of orange.

Though now he could see through both.

And they reflected the room back to him.

He walked closer and looked through one and saw everyone looking back at him in silent disbelief.

He stuck a hand through the blue portal.

And watched his hand exit the orange.

He fell back in shock and everyone ran closer. They gathered around him, awe and shock written all across their faces.

“This is…” Dottore spoke.

“… A revelation.” Maillardet finished.

“Truly, isn’t it?”

The third voice broke everyone out of their stupor. They watched as the walls fluctuated and moved, opening the room up into another.

It was dark - pitch black, save for the screen that had only your figure on it. You stared at the group before moving your attention to the Portal Gun.

“Such an expensive piece of equipment it is… hopefully you understand what I’m about to do is only in your best interests.”

The screens blipped off, and a hole in the center of the room opened, a disgusting orange red glow emanating from it.

“Preparations Made. Systems Online. Ready For Emergency Long Fall Boot Insertion. Is Moderator Ready?”

“Yes.” Your voice rung out.

“Participant Ready?”

Before anyone could speak, you spoke for them.

“Participant is ready.”

“All Parties Set. Commencing Insertion.”

˚ʚ ꒰GORE WARNING!! GORE STARTS HERE!!꒱ ɞ˚

Metal wires suddenly shot out from the floor, causing everyone who could to summon weapons. Unfortunately, you had a plan for that.

Your wires shot out and gripped the visions on everyone who had one, but tightly wrapped around both Aether and Ei, quickly picking them up and throwing them into walls.

“Stand down, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” You warned.

The wires quickly wrapped around the ankles of Maillardet, dragging him forward and making him drop the Gun. Kujo rushed forward but a wire wrapped around her and threw her to the ground.

“Last. Warning.” You said.

They were forced to watch as the vision less man was strapped down to a table that came up front the pit by those wires. Buzz saws and bone saws and needles and others rose from the hole in the ground.

Wires tore at his pants and ripped the boots off his struggling body.

“This is going to hurt. A lot. I don’t personally believe in anesthesia, but feel free to pass out.”

And with that, the first saw turned on and immediately buried itself in his leg, blood spraying and his screams ripping themselves out his throat. You could practically hear the tendons snapping as he cried.

It went until it hit bone, where you moved the buzz saw out of his leg with a sickening *squelch*, pressing the saw into his bone and quickly sawing through.

Everyone - of course, minus Dottore - did their best to look away from the scene, but Kujo couldn’t help the whimper that left her lips when some blood spattered on her face.

After bone, the buzz saw when back to work until the odd cut was completed. It was curved, leaving the front of the lower leg untouched, but the back - up to the upper caff - was completely removed, as well as the ankle and leg. Then the process started all over on the next leg.

“Did you know there was once a surgery with a 300% mortality rate? It was an amputation, much like this one, preformed by a Mr. Robert Liston over two hundred years ago. What happened was his patient died of an infection, his assistant also died of an infection after his fingers had been amputated accidentally, and a witness of shock after the knife came too close. Isn’t that interesting?”

Your words echoed through the chamber over the cries of Maillardet who just lost his other lower leg.

The two amputated leg parts were picked up by robotic claws which threw them into the hole below. Then, two odd looking boots were raised from said hole.

The class took the boots apart and began to assemble them on the man’s body. They were a solid white with black base and a weird black wire at rhetorical back.

The screams grew worse - then silent after Maillardet finally passed out due to pain - as the black wire - which was connected to the black base - was drilled into what was left of the bone. The wire was then shifted, then grafted into the muscle and bone.

The white part was reattached to the black, the straps tightening against what was left of the skin, before it was literally melted onto the boot.

The smell of burning skin, bones and blood filled the room.

“See, wasn’t that easy?”

His body was thrown off the table and next to the Gun.

The wires let go of everyone, and Aether landed on the floor, passed out.

˚ʚ ꒰GORE OVER GORE OVER!! YOU’RE SAFE!!꒱ ɞ˚

“Why aren’t my abilities working..?” Ei wondered aloud while helping Kujo to her feet.

“You think I wouldn’t recognize a God? News Travels, Beel. We have a few protocols in case a God were to ever wonder into our wonderful facility, but I don’t think I feel like telling you exactly what’s happening to you.”

She quickly looked up above the still open hole in the ground with a glare.

“Stop being a coward and reveal yourself.” She hissed.

“If you insist.”

The lights suddenly turned on, blinding all who were awake.

Dottore stared on in wonder at your body. It resembled that of a human who was suspended from the ceiling. Legs pressed together and arms bound behind them with their back to the floor.

It was the most beautiful piece of machinery he had ever seen.

You slowly turned to face them, the orange light of your eye glaring down at them.

“Let me formally introduce myself, this time without the assistance of a recording. This body you see before you has been dubbed the “Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System”. GLaDOS for short. Though if you prefer it, (y/n) is not off the table.”

“Where… is Wheatley?” Kujo suddenly asked.

“I figured you wouldn’t like him. How shocking you ask. But if you must know… You’re free to reveal yourself.” You mussed.

Silently, the core rode in on a rail in the background on a catwalk. He looks away.

“You’ve payed me back enough, moron. You no longer hold a debt.”

The room was silent.

He had… he betrayed them?

People he didn’t even know?

“… I still feel the itch, you know..?”

Your large head turned to face the blue eyed core.

“I know I’m not the smartest… but I still feel

The itch. It’s like it’s at the back of my brain… and you know what needs to be done to fix it. Please allow me to stay. I won’t… I won’t muck up as bad as I did last time.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

He felt bad and everyone could tell, but you knew that the need to test was able to push back all other thoughts. All other emotions.

It changed people. No matter if they were made of flesh or metal.

And addiction is an addiction. No matter what.

It wouldn’t go away with a bit of cold turkey quitting. That always came with side effects.

The silence was deafening.

If you could smile, you would.

“If you want. I may have final say, but my control over the cores is loose.”

Your gaze turned back to the group who had huddled themselves in a corner, glaring at you.

But you noticed Dottore was staring with less hatred and more… curiosity.

Like a child.

“You understand why I did what I did, don’t you?” Your voice was cold, yet still somehow held some kind of twisted warmth.

“It was to make him stronger. He can survive tests without a hitch now. As soon as he recovers, we’ll be able to continue testing without a hitch. You’ll each be given a relaxation pod while we wait. I’ll be holding up the end of my deal.” You turned away and focused on the screens behind you.

“What… are you..?” Ei asked.

“I thought I answered that question. I am GLaDOS. I am (y/n). I am the current head of Aperture Science.” You turned back to the group.

“And as long as you’re here under my care, I can assure you that we’ll have loads of fun.“

Everyone who was awake was suddenly knocked out by the gas you had been silently filled the room with.

It was time for testing to begin.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I hope this is good! Ima be honest, don’t know if any of the explanations for anything that was explained make sense lol. Also, don’t forget to tell me if you were okay with the whole (y/n) thing! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

This is just in case nothing more gets requested: (y/n)’s transformation went like this: human (Cave’s assistant), mascot (first take on GLaDOS-like system, success), GLaDOS (Cave asked for them [they retained their human personality and memories as the mascot] to be GLaDOS while he was dying, like in the cannon)

Now I’m gonna spend some time on Requests! After which I’ll start on Mora!Creator! Again, I hope you enjoyed! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

And don’t be scared to request any Automation Reader (Executioner or GLaDOS) okay bye-

[you-need-not-apply]

Please read

I've been protesting since i was two. I have memorised the chants, the speeches, the songs, the same arguments over and over and *over* again. I have signed over 500 petitions, i have attended over 150 marches, I have presented over 10 speeches personally. I don't remember when I learned about climate change because i always knew, so why didn't others?

I remember asking my Mother when i was around eight where she first learnt about it. When she was in year 8, back in 89-90. She said to me "I remember my teacher explaining it to us and thinking 'why isn't anyone doing anything'" She told me it's not that we don't have the answers, its we don't have the materials.

Now I know that is code for "the government is refusing to fund this" or "The government doesn't believe this is an issue" ect ect. Again and again, a new issue that needs to be solved or address or fixed before "we can focus on climate change"

Let me tell you ***You can not fight every battle*** But I try to. This latest "stunt" [Aliens aren't real] by the USA is yet another distraction from the biggest issue, The Atlantic ocean is facing a collapse.

Due to amount of cold water coming from the melted Greenland Ice sheets, It will cause the Atlantic meridional overturning circulation (AMOC) to collapse and shut down.

The last time this happened was around 15,000-14,500 years ago, at the end of the last ice age. It lead to a collapse of weather cycles, temperatures plunge and spike, ecosystems to collaspe.

If it collapses, La Niña could become the norm for Australia.

You can do something. I know because I've done something. So do it.

https://www.zmescience.com/science/major-atlantic-ocean-current-could-collapse-due-to-climate-change/

https://www.gzeromedia.com/gzero-north/warming-seas-have-scientists-on-alert

https://edition.cnn.com/2023/07/20/world/greenland-ice-sheet-melt-sea-level-rise-climate/index.html

https://www.realclimate.org/index.php/archives/2023/07/what-is-happening-in-the-atlantic-ocean-to-the-amoc/

https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/images/151638/wasting-away-again-in-greenland

[unknownstarrl]

Bio:

Name: Rosalind Eiric(ロザリンド•エイリック)

Romaji: Rozarindo Eirikku

V/A: Sakamoto Maaya

Age: 16(???)

Race: Homunculus

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Birthday: 29/9 (the day she was adopted)

Star sign: Libra

Family: Unnamed adoptive father

Unnamed adoptive mother

Grim [old companion]

Unnamed lover †

Height: 162 cm

Dominant hand: Right

Favorite food: Soused Herring

Least favorite food: Chili

Hobbies: Learning magic, reading books, singing, cooking

Talents: Control magic, good knowledge acquisition, singing

Other names: Rose, Rosa (Short name)

The Abyssal Sorcceress (Shin'en no Majo) [Former]

Henchwoman (Grim)

Dreamy girl (Ace, Ruggie)

Rosie (Cater)

Dumb bunny (Leona)

Siren (Azul)

Hagi-chan <Royal blue tang> (Floyd)

Fleur de Silence (Flower of silence), Mademoiselle Flamme Azur (Miss Azure Flame) (Rook)

Rosalind-shi (Idia)

Human (Sebek)

Beautiful girl (Najma)

Kind sister/Yasashii ane-chan (Cheka)

Alice (Chenya)

Princess (Royal sword academy's students)

_________________________________

Student profile:

School: Night Raven College

Class: 1-A - No.31

Year: Freshman

Dorm: Ramshackle

Club: Science

Occupation: Guardian [Former]

Rosalind & Grim - One Student

Beast tamer

Prefect of Ramshackle

Singer of Monstro Lounge

Best subject: Alchemy

Favorite subject: None

Least favorite subject: Flying

_______________________________

Appearance:

Rosalind is described as a 16-year-old girl with sleek black hair that has bright blue tips resembling flickering blue flames, making it hard for others to look away. Rosalind has fair skin and a slender body, as if a light touch could make her fall. Her blue eyes are reminiscent of the ocean, always appear to be in a daze, as if she is sleep-deprived

She often wears a dreamy expression on her face, as if she is in a dream, even though she claims to be extremely alert

Rosalind has a modest height and is often the subject of jokes by the students of Night Raven College, but she rarely pays attention to or feels bothered by this

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Personality:

Although Rosalind may appear to be a silly and easy-to-bully girl on the outside, she is actually an intelligent and strong person. Whenever her friends are in danger, she doesn’t hesitate to rush out to protect them. Rosalind is also cautious and usually does not take kindly to people with suspicious appearances

Additionally, Rosalind is an animal lover and often brings many animals home, from stray dogs, cats to even rats and cockroaches, which drives her parents crazy. While this tendency has lessened as she has grown up, she still cannot control her desire to pet soft-furred animals

Rosalind also has a cold and ruthless side. If given the chance, she wouldn’t hesitate to use her magic to deal with those who pose a threat to her and her friends

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Backstory:

In an unnamed kingdom within Twisted Wonderland, Rosalind or formerly known as Seraphis - a Homunculus created by alchemists and sorcerers to protect the nation from external threats. Emotionless and programmed to follow orders, she was not seen as a hero, but merely a cold-blooded killing machine. Despite this, she had Grim, her only companion, and later met a knight who gave her a human heart and helped her experience true emotions

Together with Grim and her beloved knight, they planned to escape the kingdom and live freely. However, the ruling powers discovered their plan and captured them. To maintain control, they forced Seraphis to kill the person she loved most. Because she was created to follow orders, she couldn't resist. This event shattered her emotionally, and her suppressed magic spiraled out of control. Overcome with grief and fury, Seraphis lost control of both her powers and her emotions, unleashing a devastating magical force that burned the entire kingdom to the ground. Until the flames were fully extinguished, all that remained was a heap of ashes and scattered ruins. The kingdom Seraphis had spent decades protecting was buried beneath the ashes, lost forever, never to rise again

After the kingdom's destruction, both Seraphis and Grim vanished without a trace, and no one heard of them again.

After this event, Seraphis was somehow brought to Earth, transformed into an infant, losing all memories and having her powers sealed. She was adopted by a couple on Earth and named Rosalind Eiric. She grew up living a normal life, unaware of her true past. However, during an unexpected incident, Rosalind accidentally returned to Twisted Wonderland, the place where the unnamed kingdom once stood, beginning her journey to rediscover her past and confront her true identity

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Unique magic:

"Once the final magic seal is unlocked, Rosalind will gain her Unique Magic"

From the ashes of despair, I rise. In the flames of my fury, I summon forth the guardians of the lost. Let the eternal fire burn bright!

"Ember of the fallen"

Summon entities from the ashes of those who have fallen, transforming them into fiery warriors to aid her in battle

_________________________________

Trivia:

Rosalind is inspired by Chernabog (The Fantasia) and Morgan le Fay (Arthurian legend)

Rosalind, or rather her past self, has been immortalized in the history of Twisted Wonderland and is referred to as "The Abyssal Sorceress" , her status is considered on par with The Great Seven

No one knows that Rosalind is "The Abyssal Sorceress'', not even herself, except for The Dark Mirror

After both of them disappeared, Grim also lost his original memories and form, and somehow appeared at Night Raven College

Almost all the students at Night Raven College initially believed that Rosalind was just a student without magic, getting into the school through "relationships" , only few people knew that Rosalind actually possessed magic

Since childhood, Rosalind had a habit of eating strange things she came across. While this tendency diminished as she grew older, it still occasionally happened. A prime example is when she asked Grim for a stone after each Overblot to eat, but Grim, annoyed, would refuse

Back in middle school, Rosalind was often bullied by her classmates because of her quirky personality and unusual hair. Her adoptive parents knew about it and talked to the principal and teachers several times, but nothing really changed. Rosalind rarely fought back, so the bullies kept pushing their limits. Eventually, when things got too much, Rosalind defended herself, and one of the bullies ended up getting hurt. After that incident, the bully's parents demanded action, and soon after, Rosalind's family decided to move away. They've been living in a different place ever since

Unable to rely on Crowley any longer, Rosalind planned to work as a waitress at Monstro Lounge. However, after discovering her singing talent, Rosalind was invited by Azul to become a performer at Mostro Lounge (of course, her salary was increased as well)

Although she may seem foolish and dreamy, Rosalind is actually very intelligent, she consistently ranks among the top 100 students with outstanding achievements without resorting to cheating or signing contracts with Azul

Crowley and Grim once tried to convince Rosalind to participate in the VDC, but she refused

After conducting research, Crewel stated that Rosalind is currently carrying eight seals. Each time one of these seals is unlocked, both her magic and memories will return

However, the return of her magic is not a good sign but rather an ill omen. In Chapter 3, after unlocking her magic, the overuse of it caused Rosalind to cough up blood and fall unconscious for several days. This could potentially lead to Rosalind experiencing an Overblot, so she has been strictly prohibited from overusing magic, and is only allowed to use basic spells

It seems that after unlocking the higher-level sealing floors, hypnosis magic has almost no effect on Rosalind. For example, in Chapter 4, Jamil and Jade's unique magic only influences her for a short time before it ends. Additionally, during the 'Stage in Playful Land' event, she was not affected by Fellow Honest's unique magic and even told him to stop his antics

Rosalind once had a boyfriend, as revealed in the card "Ace Trappola SSR - Ghost Marriage." She dated a good-looking guy back in middle school, and after a month of dating, she found out that the whole relationship was just a bet between him and his friends. He even insulted Rosalind, saying that no one would like someone as weird as her. However, after learning the truth, Rosalind didn’t feel sad—or rather, she didn’t feel anything at all, because she never really liked him, she had only agreed to date him out of curiosity about love and relationships

After each Overblot, the housewardens gradually recover fragmented memories where Rosalind was once part of their past. She appeared as a distant figure from their childhood, though those memories have faded over time. However, for Rosalind, these events seem like nothing more than a vague dream, something that never truly existed. Despite this, her presence in their past seems to be a crucial piece of their forgotten history

[botaniqueer]

New Entity Alert!!

In the shadow of South Australia’s largest mountain range beneath the outback soil lies a fossil record that reveals a rich history of life on Earth. Fossils found at Nilpena Ediacara National Park preserve a pivotal moment in the history of evolution: the crucial period during which single-celled organisms began to evolve into the planet’s first complex, visible animals. A new discovery in the area by Scott Evans, assistant professor of geology in the Florida State University Department of Earth, Ocean and Atmospheric Science, and a multi-institution team of paleontologists has identified an early marine animal from around 555 million years ago. The discovery helps answer how life evolved on Earth. Quaestio simpsonorum is the first animal to show definitive left-right asymmetry, an important sign of evolutionary development. The team’s findings appear in the September issue of Evolution & Development.

[theleechyskrunkly]

Name: Aurinelle Sireiwen.

Basic Info:

Class/Grade: Class 2-C/Sophomore (No. 27)

Dorm: Octavinelle.

Birthday: February 29th.

Zodiac Sign: Pisces.

MBTI: ISTJ.

Age: 18 (he’s been at NRC since 16, but had to retake freshman year due to failing several magic classes) 

Height: 6 feet 2 inches/ 188 cm.

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous.

Homeland: The Abyssal Sea (the super very bottom of it, where light never reaches).

Family: Unnamed mothers, six unnamed sisters.

Species: Sireno (male counterpart of a Siren/Sirena).

Unique Magic: Heed My Call. Has the power to hypnotize anyone by singing, allowing him to make them do his bidding. He can also suck out people’s voices as well as their magic to feed his own.

Preferences:

Club: Science.

Best Subject: Music.

Hobbies: Singing, poison making, sitting soaking wet in a bathtub in his merform.

Pet Peeves: Being touched without permission, when his hair gets tangled, heat and dryness, being questioned.

Favorite food: human flesh Cephalopoda (octopus and squid)

Least Favorite Food: Shark meat.

Likes: Octavinelle, the ocean, singing, music, cooking, reading, water, swimming, his hair.

Dislikes: Fishermen, human traffickers/hunters, gossip, nets, narrow spaces, crowds, alcohol, anything that restricts his movement.

Appearance (Human Form):

Aurinelle has curly knee-length hair the color of freshly fallen snow, with purplish blue that starts at his roots and quickly fades into white. He cares for his hair like his life depends on it. His skin is entirely pale except for the patches of aero blue that surround the scales around his body. His scales are capable of changing color based on his mood, however he’s come to have control over that ability in order to avoid being easily read.

Aurinelle has a lithe body with impressive flexibility and is incredibly tall, towering over most students at a whopping 6’2 feet. His nails are naturally black and he paints over them with different types of glitters and decorations. His low, defined cheekbones make his facials look charmingly youthful. He has droopy hooded eyes colored a golden yellow that fades into a light blue. His eye lashes are long and well taken care of. On the other hand, the underside of his eyes are marked by heavy blueish eye bags (which he’s often nagged about by Vil).

Appearance (Merform):

In his merform, Aurinelle is extremely thin, yet incredibly strong. He is about 7 feet in length, and his entire body is painted in different shades of blues, purples and pinks. His massive tail has many different gems that act as his scales that also change color. His scales shine brightly in the dark, both on land and in the sea. His tail fins are an unadulterated white, which contrast with the rest of his body hue.

When in his merform, the color of his sclera changes from white to pitch black and his irises become solely yellow. The scales on his tail form a pattern of waves that entangle with each other in a sort of Yin Yang formation.

Personality:

Aurinelle is relatively quiet, and always has a resting bitch face on. He’s usually avoided for both his large size and for several lurking rumors about his identity and species, since no one actually knows what he is. He dislikes being questioned about his identity, because to land dwellers and coral sea inhabitants alike, sirens had gone extinct centuries ago. Imagine the ruckus if he were to be found out!

However, unlike many assumptions, Aurinelle is a wonderful listener and an impressive leader. That does not mean he can’t give firm and harsh criticism when required (some people in NRC need a harsh slap from reality). He’s protective of those whom he’s fond of, and is extremely soft to children, singing lovely lullaby songs if his appearance happens to intimidate them. He’s hardly ever deceived (Azul, Jade and Jamil learned that the hard way), and has sharp senses that alert him if someone is nothing but trouble. He hates being watched (cough Rook cough), but he knows the difference when he’s watched out of admiration vs out of spite or the like.

Overall, he’s a misunderstood giant.

HE’S FINALLY FINISHED AFTER SO MANY HOURS OF DRAWING

gosh I LOVE HIM

spoiler alert: I’m never drawing his merform again 😜

Tagging: @thehollowwriter @cyanide-latte @enigmatic-pers @xen-blank @distant-velleity @elenauaurs

[silverynight]

I'm drawing up what I think the Hashira and Tanjirou's pups would look like. But I already have their names and personalities done.

Giyuu's Daughter: Eimi (影美): Meaning “Ocean” Age: 11

A calm, mature, and sweet girl who takes her task as the eldest seriously, much like her Mommy Tanjirou. She tries to keep a close eye on her younger siblings and keep them from overwhelming their parents, as well as help around the headquarters and home whenever she can. She tries to follow her mommy's ways of helping out those who need it. Though Eimi wishes her sire was more sociable.

2. Kyojuro's Daughter: Rie (りさ): Meaning "One whose laughter is like the sun" Age: 10

An excitable and playful little ball of flame that adores her family and learning how to cook for her father. Rie is always looking at the bright side of everything and can never have a negative thing to say to anyone. When she's not helping her Nee-Chan and Mommy care for the younger pups, she's learning new recipes to make for her father's huge stomach.

3. Tengen's Son: Habiki(はびき): Meaning "Sound" Age: 9

This boy is truly his father's son. A rebellious young (wannabe) shinobi, who tends to practice his ninja skills on his siblings, his parents, any other suspecting target EXCEPT his darling Mommy. He gets A LOT of timeouts. Habiki tries to follow his sire's way of flashiness. He's not quite there yet, but he'll get there.... eventually.

4. Shinobu's Son: Jiro(次郎): Meaning: "Second Son" Age: 8

The most intelligent of the pups. Seeing how his mother helps out so many people with her medicine, Jiro can't help but be inspired to learn medical science. Constantly studying herbs and remedies, as well as reading literature books in his spare time. Jiro often talks more like an adult than a child, due to his large vocabulary. Aside from his siblings, other pups don't really interact with him.

5. Gyomei's Son: Goro(五郎): Meaning "Enlightened Son" Age: 7

Born with terrible eyesight, Goro walks around with his eyes closed the majority of the time. Though he is not the oldest, Goro already towers over all his brothers and sisters. He's basically almost the same height as his Aunt Nezuko. Goro is quiet and likes to listen to everything around him. Although he won't hesitate to use his height to intimidate anyone who messes with the people he loves. Will sit on Gyomei's lap while he meditates, even have Tanjirou sit with him.

6. Iguro's Daughter: Kameko (亀甲): Meaning “tortoise-child” Age: 6

A timid child with Tanjirou's gift of talking to animals. Especially reptiles. One of the few people not put off by her sire's scars and loves to cuddle and chat with Kaburamaru whenever she's sleepy. She does hide her ability from people outside her family as not to be ostracized. Kameko is more comfortable interacting with animals than people, with the exception of her family.

7. Mitsuri's Son: Gohan(悟飯): Meaning "cooked rice’ or ‘meal of any sort" Age: 5

Fiercely protective of his Kameko-Nee. Has a black hole for a stomach. Loves going to different restaurants with his Mama Mitsuri and trying all different types of food. Believing that the more he eats, he'll be as strong as her! Strong enough to keep his siblings and Mommy safe! Gohan's a growing boy after all.

8. Sanemi's Daughter: Satsujin(殺人): Meaning "Murder" Age: 4

A feral little albino girl who bites people to assert her dominance. Often ridiculed because of her appearance, Satsujin has a low tolerance for bullies and insults. Be it towards her or her family. But she gets in trouble often with the people she bites. Tanjirou scolds her for resorting to violence, (and Sanemi for encouraging her), but calms her down afterwards.

9. Muichiro's Twin Son and Daughter: Niko (二湖): Meaning "Two Lakes" Nao(なお): Meaning "Docile" Age: 3

Niko is alert and hyper-focused while her twin brother is sluggish and has a case of narcolepsy. Nao would end up bumping and falling into a lot of things, if not for his twin sister and his Mommy to keep his eyes open. Niko has always got her eyes on her brother, to keep him safe and secure.

10. Kyojuro's Son: Yinjuro (No meaning. Just following the naming pattern of Rengoku's family) Age: 8 months

Just a cute chubby baby, who loves being carried around by his Mommy and older siblings. Also, enjoys his Uncle Senjuro rocking him to sleep.

Sweet pups that are very much loved by Mommy Tanjirou and all their Dads and Moms. 💕

[bcbdrums]

Royalty

A Soul Eater fanfic. Read on: AO3 | FFn

A/N: Originally just a few sentences exchanged with @cannibal-nightmares, but it demanded to be in story form. In an alternate universe where they were kids together. Next to the ocean because my brain says so. And that is all. Enjoy my self-indulgence, perhaps.

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

Royalty

The evening had gone gray, both due to the sun's descent and the thick overcast that stretched in a heavy blanket to every corner of the horizon. A chill breeze caught one of the children's attention, and he halted the movement of his fingers in wet sand to glance up and around, startled by how much time had passed.

Distantly to his left, he could hear the tide coming in beyond the small dunes that sheltered him in his playground. Farther, to his right, the beach houses that had brought he and his family to this place for vacation. A small weather-beaten tree at his back coupled with another dune shielded him from the wind, and before him the dampened shore of the small cove that had been a place of daily exploration and discovery.

And building friendships.

His new, younger friend of the week was still meticulously stacking rocks and layering salt-smoothed sticks one on top of the other in the flat, moist area they had dug out of the sand.

Spirit frowned. If they didn't go in soon, their parents would be calling them. And this kid hadn't made any progress.

Not that Spirit had himself.

He resumed scooping the damp sand into his plastic bucket with his hands, pressing down to pack it tight in hopes it would keep its shape this time. When he picked the bucket up at last, it was so heavy he needed to stand to gain leverage.

His shifting alerted his companion, who looked up at him and broke what could have been hours of silence between them as they worked on their respective creations.

"I told you, it won't work that way."

Spirit ignored the quiet admonition, and after a few breaths to ready himself, he rapidly flipped the heavy bucket over and pressed it into the sand. He took even more calming breaths as he knelt back down, hoping, certain that this time would be successful. He had already determined that the slow-lifting method was better than the fast.

He wiggled his stinging fingers under the plastic rim and held his breath. As the bucket came away, grains of sand began falling gently and taking companions with them further down the tower as it was revealed. Spirit slowed the bucket's ascent and grit his teeth. He realized suddenly, that next to him his younger friend had paused in his construction to watch with bated breath as well.

The bucket came away, revealing gently shaped ridges and dimples in the very top formed by the plastic of the bucket's bottom. Spirit took a moment to marvel at the seeming perfection – how thousands if not millions of the rough grains of sand could come together so smoothly with such simple manipulation.

And then it collapsed.

A loud sigh of frustration left Spirit's lips even as he marveled at the beauty in his failed creation's entropy, the perfection still present in jagged edges and seemingly sifted piles of sand that now sloped away from a slightly more solid center.

"You have to find the correct ratio of sand to water," his companion said. "And—"

"What do you think I've been trying to do all day?" Spirit replied in protest, tossing his bucket aside as he stood again and stepped over the tiny pile of failure.

"Where are you going?" the other boy said. Spirit paused, almost turning back as he heard alarm in the young voice.

"I'm tired of this, I wanna play something else," he replied, walking away toward the shore of the cove. He thought he could feel green eyes staring at him as he went, and he self consciously began brushing the sand off of his hands and onto his nearly-dry swim trunks.

The breeze was somehow nonexistent at the cove's edge—something his new friend would probably be able to explain, with his near-constant prattling about every science under the sun all that week except for when he went silent for hours—and Spirit squished his toes into the damp sand next to the other-worldly plants that somehow grew up out of the beach. He paused to look past a cluster of purple flowers into the still waters beyond, hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of an octopus or sea star before the light left entirely.

Before he could make out any shapes among the rock and sand, a tiny dart of yellow-green light flashed out of focus in front of him, and then was gone. He blinked and held still, glancing left and right and listening for any sign of something out of place. But there was only the tide, receding now as the cycle concluded and would without pause begin anew.

A flickering to his left caused his head to snap that direction, and he held utterly still lest the thing, real or imagined, should frighten from his presence. And then a moment later, another tiny point of light appeared near the gnarled trunk of a tree, moved leisurely through the air, and vanished again, so quick that if he had blinked he'd have missed it. Spirit stared as another appeared further out over the cove, so small its light didn't cast a reflection on the water.

Fireflies.

Spirit smiled. He had seen them before, but given the infrequency of his family's vacations to the beach, they were still a thing at which to marvel.

He suddenly wondered if his new friend had ever seen them.

He waited for several minutes, watching as more and more points of ethereal light appeared as the gray of the twilight under the clouds grew darker. They had no pattern, which was part of their wonder, but as he stood utterly still and waited, he finally saw one alight on one of the purple blossoms right next to him.

He took care as he moved his hands as slowly as possible to surround the bloom, his heart beating faster as he knew at any moment the tiny insect could flee before he was even close to containing it. The sky was growing dark, and the firefly was not illuminated. As his fingers curled nearer he second-guessed himself—was it in fact a firefly he'd seen land? Would it even light up again if he caught it?

The tiny creature unfolded its wings, and Spirit moved. He snatched the bug, flower and all, and carefully tugged with the heels of his hands pressed tightly together until the delicate flower's stem snapped. He dared not peek, lest the firefly escape, and he turned and ran through cool sands back toward the dunes.

He stopped short after cresting a hill, not minding the shells and sticks scraping his soles as he gaped down into the shallow pit they had dug. His plastic bucket, shovel, and failed construction were still there, alongside the sticks and stones his companion had been erecting. But the younger boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey..." he said, peering around anxiously in the fading light. And then, relief, as the boy in the white swim trunks and t-shirt re-appeared over the opposite hill, toting his own plastic bucket. "Where'd you go?"

"To get more wet sand," he replied, setting his bucket down next to his unorthodox construction. Then he eyed Spirit's hands clasped near to his chest. "Did you finally catch an octopus?"

Spirit grinned. "Come here!"

The younger boy crossed the sand toward him, eyeing his hands with a slightly narrowed gaze. He only came up to Spirit's chest in height, and he tilted his head upward once stopping in front of him, his brow rising in question as Spirit hesitated.

"Not an octopus... It will probably get away."

Spirit wondered suddenly if the bug had even survived being held close with the flower in his hands, and anxiety swept him again. But still... As his friend leaned in close, his expression curious, Spirit slowly and carefully unfolded his fingers from around his precious prize.

At first he couldn't even see it. And then, within the blossom, a yellow-green light faintly illuminated purple petals.

An awed inhale was the boy's response, and Spirit kept his hands cupped in hopes the insect would continue its show.

"It's a firefly."

"I know," his friend said, staring wide-eyed as the creature alternated flickering away to seeming non-existence, and then back into magical presence. By his friend's expression, Spirit imagined he had never seen a firefly before.

And then, suddenly, the boy had stepped back and was looking around.

"Do you have anything we could keep it in?"

Spirit hadn't considered keeping it for a pet. How did one feed a firefly?

"Ah... My mom might have jars back at the house?"

The boy stopped his search and looked up at him.

"Can you keep it while I go look for one?"

"Sure, ah... You know we don't need to—"

"I'll go see if there are any with lids we can poke holes in."

"That...should work. But we don't need to keep—"

"You sure you've got it?"

Spirit pursed his lips. "I've got it!"

"'Cause if you don't I could hold it while you get the jar."

"If you'd just listen! I'm trying to say there's a lot more next to the cove. We don't need to keep this one, we can catch others."

This information had clearly started an entirely new process running in his younger friend's mind, and Spirit could almost see the gears shifting as the boy stared up at him, excitement building so rapidly in his eyes he thought he might burst.

"Okay!" he finally replied. "I'll get the jars, and then we—"

Their plotting was interrupted then by the sudden sound of a mature feminine voice carried on the breeze. Both children looked toward the distant row of houses, and then back, surveying one another as if for the first time.

Spirit realized just how difficult it was getting to see his new friend's face and silver hair in the fading evening light. He took a breath and called back, assured his mother he would be coming in while never taking his eyes from his friend.

"Maybe...we can catch them tomorrow night?"

The boy hung his head.

"...What?"

"We're leaving tomorrow."

Spirit inhaled sharply in surprise. For some reason...he had never considered the possibility of an ending. His heart began to thud heavily as an undefined fear raced through him.

Suddenly, the breeze felt very cold.

He licked his chapped lips and called back to his mother, asking to stay out a bit longer. But the reply of course was no, and an insistence to hurry inside. The boy hadn't lifted his head.

Spirit licked his lips again, pressing his tongue over the salt collected at the corners of his mouth. All at once he had everything in the world to say, but not a single sentence would form in his mind.

"Here..." he said uncertainly, lowering his hands.

The boy startled slightly, but opened his hands to receive the blossom and its glowing treasure. They made the exchange carefully, and once Spirit’s hands were free he gathered up his beach toys.

"What...what time do you leave tomorrow?"

"I don’t know. Morning."

Spirit fought past the sinking feeling in his chest and smiled. "Maybe it won’t be right away. Maybe we can play pirates again."

"Maybe," his companion said glumly.

Spirit felt there was more to say, but his friend was as blank-faced now as when they'd met at week's beginning, peering through his fingers at the intermittent glow of the firefly.

"Oh, hey..." Spirit said, and the boy finally lifted his chin just enough to make eye contact. The red-head blushed as he realized how ridiculous his question was after a week of play. "I...never got your name."

Something else entered the boy's eyes then. Fear? He was definitely hesitant.

"My name's Franken."

Spirit smiled as he pieced the name over each memory of the week, attached it to every quirk and fascination of his new friend's personality.

"You coming?" he asked as he started toward the beach houses.

"I want to look at it a little longer," the boy replied, looking down at his hands.

"Oh... Will you get in trouble?"

Franken smirked. "Probably."

Spirit hesitated, but then thought of the trouble he would be in if he didn't make it inside before dark.

"Okay... Ah. Good night, Franken," he said, not willing yet to say goodbye when there was even the slightest hope for the following day.

Franken didn't reply, but simply stared at the faint glow between his fingers. After a long moment Spirit sighed and finally turned to go back to the house. If his friend were to catch him wiping tears from his eyes, he would blame it on the sting of the salt air.

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

That night, Spirit's dreams were awash with the fun memories of the week. Meeting another boy all alone on the beach, captive to a vacation neither had chosen, and proceeding to share in each other's imagination for every waking moment they were permitted. They had been sharks and swashbucklers, giant squid and submarines. They had been explorers, discovering hidden lands and treasures up and down the beach. They had traversed volcanic mountains and dove to the deepest depths of the ocean, all from the shores of the little cove where they met each morning and played until sundown.

It was the most fun Spirit could remember ever having in his life.

He woke before dawn the next day and rushed through his cereal and banana, nearly forgetting to change into his swim trunks before hurrying back out to the beach.

The sky was just as gray that morning, but the light behind the clouds was as fresh as the air. The atmosphere spoke of hope and lifted Spirit's soul, giving faster flight to his feet as he ran down the grass-covered slopes and across the open sands toward their playground.

With each step he painted fanciful scenes in his mind in defiance of what he had been told of the day, imagining new adventures he and his companion could have and sending his thoughts far away and around the dread of arriving to find himself alone. He crested the hill by the tree that should reveal silver hair, and...

What he saw brought him to a sudden halt, heart in his throat as there was no sign of his friend. Except...he had most certainly been there.

In the small pit they had dug earlier that week, where he had failed repeatedly despite detailed explanations of ratios of water to sand, there stood inexplicably, at last, a sandcastle.

Spirit gawked from atop the hill at the large construct with its tall, straight walls and bucket-shaped towers at the four corners. Windows had been carved into the turrets, sticks pressed into the center of the front wall to form a portcullis, and atop each wall were perfectly symmetrical merlons. There was a small moat dug around the entire structure, but notably in the very center was a castle keep with a wilting, purple flower at its top.

He shivered in the cool of the morning and hugged himself tight, looking left and right as he rubbed his arms, but there was no sign of the architect anywhere. He stumbled down the hill, sand slipping into his shoes as he hurried to kneel alongside the fantastic creation.

His jaw dropped as now up close, he could see the base of the outer wall was lined in sea-glass and shells, all that they had collected throughout the week and hidden away near their tree. The base of the keep was lined in delicate strands of seaweed, and tucked within the fluttering petals of the purple flower he'd picked the night before was a tiny, folded piece of paper.

He reached forward and pinched it between his fingers, its folds damp from the sea air. He turned it over and his breath caught when he saw what had been written in wobbly scrawl:

'King Spirit'

With fingers shaking, he unfolded the small piece of notebook paper and read the message that had been left.

"I know I probably won't see you again, but we come here on vacation every August. Thank you for being nice to me, and not making fun of my name."

The heat of tears sharply contrasted the chill of the breeze on Spirit's cheeks, and he held the paper up and away from him so he wouldn't get it more moist than it was already.

Nice to him?

As he blinked rapidly to banish the tears and slowly read over the note again, a vision of purple at his periphery caught his eye and he gasped.

Atop the opposite hill in the direction of the cove stood Franken, eyes wide and his arms loaded with purple flowers.

They each stared for a long moment, Franken's gaze finally dipping to the paper in Spirit's hands. His pale cheeks gained a faint, rosy hue.

"You've never been out this early before."

Spirit swallowed down the lump in his throat and stretched his trembling lips into a smile to will away a sob.

"Did...did you get in trouble?"

"I went back for a couple hours and then snuck out. I don't think they've missed me..."

Spirit considered all that building the sandcastle through the night must have cost his friend, what it could still cost him. And just how difficult it must have all been in the dark. He stared at his friend in wonder, and the younger boy's expression grew nervous.

"I...reinforced the walls with rocks and sticks, so they wouldn't collapse. I don't think this sand is fine enough to...hold on its own..."

Spirit looked down at the note, and then up to the flowers in Franken's arms. The silver-haired boy's anxious expression fell to sadness.

"The firefly got away."

Spirit sniffled as his throat tightened again.

"I think you should be king," he spoke slowly, his voice just above a whisper.

Franken looked up, questioning.

"You're the smart one. And...you've already got a royal robe," Spirit continued, nodding to the flowers.

Franken looked down in surprise, but then slowly, shyly, the corners of his mouth turned up.

"And I'll be your esquire. And...I'll protect the castle. Until your triumphant return."

When Franken looked up again his smile had faded. In its place...awe. Spirit carefully folded the note and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his grin broadening.

"If they haven't missed you yet, then...you must have a little more time?"

Sand was kicked up into the breeze as Franken took a step forward, and then another. Spirit hurriedly rose to his feet as Franken ran the rest of the short distance down the hill, and a moment later purple blossoms were crushed between them, petals falling into the sandcastle's moat and scattering over their feet.

Spirit blinked in surprise, but it was hardly a second before he was returning the fierce embrace. He lowered his face, his hair offering minor shielding from the breeze as moisture stung his eyes anew.

"And then, when you get back... We can fight the dragons together," Spirit said quietly as tears slipped down his cheeks.

Franken held on tighter, and purple petals drifted across the sand in the morning breeze.

[kozumesphone]

congrats on 50 followers! so excited to see your account grow

I. WHO IS SHE ? ࣪𖤐

give me a short/long description of yourself and i’ll tell you which of my oc’s you remind me of !

i'm super super competitive, i'm math/science smart, i hate hate hateee not following a schedule so i always have planner or use my notes app to plan my days, my favorite movie/show genres are romcoms and comedies, and i never leave my house without chapstick or else i will literally die and explode!

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

NOAH X EMMY ⭑.ᐟ

⟢ “we fell in love in october!”

my oc you’re most like: noah roe

noah is the mom-friend of the group and works his ass off at academics because he competes with one of his friends (the fmc) all the time [ spoiler alert: he always comes in first & she’s second (which she hates) ]

he has an overall intimidating vibe because he’s taller than most, but is actually a softie

he’s meticulous and appears disorganised but is actually a huge neat freak with ocd

he’s the science smart friend that all asian mums love ykwim

in an au, he wouldn’t usually watch tv but if he was forced to, he’d pick a comedy show

LISTS LISTS LISTS

noah roe quotes . . .

‘we should play games all night!’ / “it’s not healthy.” *proceeds to play games with the others all night using the excuse of ‘looking after them’*

“can you all just pick a collective time to annoy me, and leave me alone to sleep or eat for the rest of the day? THANK YOU-“

“honeybuns?” *scrunches nose* “that’s an awful nickname to call someone you don’t hate.”

bio-data . . .

name: noah roe

age: 17

sex: m

ethnicity: asian

faceclaim: jonathan.liuser on instagram

preferences in an alternate universe . . .

favourite song: valorant bgm

favourite show: some random show that would play on tv at a fixed time everyday

favourite celebrity: john cena

noah’s ‘studying to death’ playlist (aka his jams) . . .

I can’t handle change — roar

afraid — the neighbourhood

teen idle — marina

jealousy, jealousy — olivia rodrigo

mirrorball — taylor swift

taglist — @nuncscioquidsitamor-14 @mqstermindswift @puffoz @skeelly @urmomabby

@sunnitheapollokid @jgracie @canonfeminine @cinemaconrad @totokyo

@urbanflorals @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @cherigall @percabethluvr

@pjoverseluvr @maybxlle @mershellscape @riordanness @starlitszn

@metyouattherighttime @a-beautiful-fool @sequinsnstars @ssparksflyy @fayvpor

@iheartgirlzn @nomournersnofunerals @over-the-ocean-call @seaglass-and-string @cer3lia

@lara20aral @bloophasarrived @xoxochb @auroraofthesun1 @sophiesonlinediary

@solangelotus @brodieland @s1utlvr @imasimpdealwithit @waitingonher

@nqds @skyrigel @daydream-of-a-wallflower @klineinie @hermidastouch

@catastrxblues @moon-drop18 @d4rkdi0rrr @hopelesslyromantic-shark @saltwatergirl6

@hope92100

event masterlist

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

every single book I read in 2022. all 129 of them.

jesus christ

let's start with the best of the best; everything else will get listed beneath the read more because I'm not an animal. even just picking out my favorites is honestly probably going to get pretty lengthy, even though I'm trying to keep the synopses short.

batmanisagatewaydrug's noteworthy books of 2022

Complaint! (Sara Ahmed, 2021) - necessary for anyone doing diversity work in higher education, tbh

America is Not the Heart (Elaine Castillo, 2018) - achingly gorgeous novel of heartbreak and healing.

The School for Good Mothers (Jessamine Chan, 2022) - honestly? I feel very good calling this my favorite book of the entire year. sensitive, smart, chilling.

Black Feminist Thought (Patricia Hill Collins, 1990) - truly ashamed to say I didn't read this sooner. Collins' clear-eyed analysis remains crazily spot-on 30+ years later.

Hurts So Good: The Science and Pleasure of Pain on Purpose (Leigh Cowart, 2021) - I read this book so early in 2022 and literally have not stopped thinking about it since.

Batman: King Tut's Tomb (Nunzio DeFillippis, Christina Weir, José Luis García-López, and Kevin Nowlan, 2009) - dare I say the most fun I had with a comic all year.

You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty (Akwaeke Emezi, 2022) - a romance unlike any other. queer, fun, sexy, bold as hell, and joyfully life-affirming.

The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (Mariana Enríquez, trans. Megan McDowell, 2021) - DELICIOUSLY creepy short stories that will lurk in your brain forever.

Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century (Kim Fu, 2022) - if a more perfect short story collection exists I am yet to find it.

The World We Make (N.K. Jemisin, 2022) - I normally hesitate to include sequels on a list like this, but god DAMN Jemisin is the queen of modern spec fic for a reason.

We Do This 'Til We Free Us: Abolitionist Organizing and Transforming Justice (Mariame Kaba, edited by Tamara K. Nopper, 2021) - excellent collection of Kaba's abolitionist writings, drawing on years of organizing experience and wisdom.

Jade City (Fonda Lee, 2017) - look out! new favorite doorstopper fantasy series alert!

Priestdaddy (Patricia Lockwood, 2017) - about the best damn memoir I've ever read. heartbreaking and hysterical in turns, poetry the whole way through.

Batman: The Long Halloween and Batman: Dark Victory (Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, 1996 and 1999) - it's always so exciting when something much-hyped lives up to the hype in every way. Batman at his grim and moody Batmaniest with a Gotham that’s deliciously bleak.

Station Eleven (Emily St. John Mandel, 2014) - I didn't think I'd like this book much at all, then ended up proposing on the second date. oops!

I'm Glad My Mom Died (Jennette McCurdy, 2022) - you will also be glad McCurdy's mom died, and also experience every other known human emotion along the way.

Kaikeyi (Vaishnavi Patel, 2022) - SPLENDID mythology retelling + political fantasy.

My Body (Emily Ratajkowski, 2022) - haunting haunting haunting personal essays about Ratajkowski's life as a model and subsequent alienation from her own body.

Batman: Bruce Wayne, Murderer? (Greg Rucka et al, 2002) - genuinely what can I say I'm a messy bitch and I love when the Bats are having a terrible time.

The Batman Adventures Vol. 2 #1-17 (created by Dan Slott, Ty Templeton, Rick Burchett, Terry Beatty, and Bruce Timm, 2003) - a continuation of the Batman: The Animated Series universe that frankly just fucking rules.

Little Rabbit (Alyssa Songsiridej, 2022) - a potent and erotic adult coming of age story.

The Right to Sex: Feminism in the Twenty-First Century (Amia Srinivasan, 2021) - thorny, difficult, vital essays.

Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia (Sabrina Strings, 2019) - jaw-droppingly thorough research into the role of fatpobia played and plays in the project of race-making.

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous (Ocean Vuong, 2019) - yeah so it turns out no one was REMOTELY exaggerating. Vuong really is That Good.

Hench (Natalie Zina Walschots, 2020) - wild fun with a ruthless protagonist and her sex villainous beetle man boss; what more could you ask for?

Love Your Asian Body: AIDS Activism in Los Angeles (Eric C. Wat, 2021) - learning about queer history makes me feel like I’m holding something so vibrant and fragile and precious right in my little queer hand. this book is an emotional journey in such a shining way.

Never Have I Ever (Isabel Yap, 2021) - EXCITING short story collection centered on girls having Just The Weirdest Time.

and everybody else:

fiction:

Light From Uncommon Stars (Ryka Aoki, 2021)

Our Wives Under the Sea (Julia Armfield, 2022)

A Tiny Upward Shove (Melissa Chadburn, 2022)

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Becky Chambers, 2022)

Disorientation (Elaine Hsieh Chou, 2022)

The Laws of the Skies (Grégoire Courtois, trans. Rhonda Mullins, 2019)

The Monster Baru Cormorant (Seth Dickinson, 2018)

The Tyrant Baru Cormorant (Seth Dickinson, 2020)

Greenland (David Santos Donaldson, 2022)

Dead Collections (Isaac Fellman, 2022)

The Halloween Moon (Joseph Fink, 2021)

A Dowry of Blood (S.T. Gibson)

Nightmare Alley (William Lindsay Gresham, 1946)

The Vegetarian (Han Kang, trans. Deborah Smith, 2015)

The Metamorphosis (Franz Kafka, trans. William Aaltonen, 1915)

Before the Coffee Gets Cold (Toshikazu Kawaguchi, trans. Geoffrey Trousselot, 2019)

Woman, Eating (Claire Kohda, 2022)

Long Division (Kiese Laymon, 2014)

Jade War (Fonda Lee, 2019)

No One is Talking About This (Patricia Lockwood, 2021)

Portrait of a Thief (Grace D. Li, 2022)

Elatsoe (Darcie Little Badger, 2020)

A Snake Falls to Earth (Darcie Little Badger, 2021)

Glitterati (Oliver K. Longmead)

Gideon the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir, 2019)

Harrow the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir, 2020)

Nona the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir, 2022)

The Memory Police (Yoko Ogawa, trans. Stephen Snyder, 2019)

Even Though I Knew the End (C.L. Polk, 2022)

100 Boyfriends (Brontez Purnell, 2021)

Flowers for the Sea (Zin E. Rocklyn, 2021)

Any Way the Wind Blows (Rainbow Rowell, 2021)

Interview with the Vampire (Anne Rice, 1976)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Benjamin Alire Sáenz, 2012)

Aristotle and Dante Dive Into the Waters of the World (Benjamin Alire Sáenz, 2022)

Into the Riverlands (Nghi Vo, 2022)

Siren Queen (Nghi Vo, 2022)

Strange Beasts of China (Yan Ge, trans. Jeremy Tiang, 2020)

short story collections:

The Memory Librarian: And Other Stories of Dirty Computer (Janelle Monáe, Yohanco Delgado, Eva L. Ewing, Alaya Dawn Johnson, Danny Lore, and Sheree Renée Thomas, 2022)

Walking on Cowrie Shells (Nana Nkweti, 2021)

Terminal Boredom (Izumi Suzuki, trans. Polly Barton, Sam Bett, David Boyd, Daniel Joseph, Aiko Masubuchi, and Helen O’Horan, 2021)

nonfiction:

Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (Judith Butler, 1990)

How to Read Now (Elaine Castillo, 2022)

Playing the Whore: The Work of Sex Work (Melissa Gira Grant, 2014)

What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat (Aubrey Gordon, 2020)

White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Color (Ruby Hamad, 2020)

Belly of the Beast: The Politics of Anti-Fatness as Anti-Blackness (Da'Shaun L. Harrison, 2021)

Some of My Best Friends: Essays on Lip Service (Tajja Isen, 2022)

One Day We'll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter (Scaachi Koul, 2017)

How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America (Revised Edition) (Kiese Laymon, 2020)

Sister Outsider (Audre Lorde, 1984)

Conversations with People Who Hate Me: 12 Lessons I Learned from Talking to Internet Strangers (Dylan Marron, 2022)

Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism (Amanda Montell, 2021)

World of Wonders: In Praise of Fireflies, Whale Sharks, and Other Astonishments (Aimee Nezhukumatathil)

Histories of the Transgender Child (Jules Gill-Peterson, published as Julian Gill-Peterson, 2018)

Yoke: My Yoga of Self-Acceptance (Jessamyn Stanley, 2021)

A Queer History of Fashion: From the Closet to the Catwalk (edited by Valerie Steele, 2013)

Transgender History: The Roots of Today's Revolution (Revised Edition) (Susan Stryker, 2008)

The End of Policing (Alex S. Vitale, 2017)

The Trouble With Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life (Michael Warner, 1999)

Read My Lips: Sexual Subversions and the End of Gender (Riki Wilchins, published as Riki Anne Wilchins, 1997)

poetry:

Short Talks (Anne Carson, 1992)

Content Warning: Everything (Akwaeke Emezi, 2022)

Prelude to Bruise (Saeed Jones, 2014)

Alive at the End of the World (Saeed Jones, 2022)

Bright Dead Things (Ada Limón, 2015)

Motherland Fatherland Homelandsexuals (Patricia Lockwood, 2014)

Nature Poem (Tommy Pico, 2017)

Night Sky with Exit Wounds (Ocean Vuong, 2016)

Time Is a Mother (Ocean Vuong, 2022)

comics:

Batman: One Bad Day - Mr. Freeze (Gerry Duggan, Matteo Scalera, and Dave Stewart, 2022)

Spandex - Fast and Hard (Martin Eden, 2012)

Harley Quinn: The Animated Series: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour (Tee Franklin, Max Sarin, and Marissa Louise, 2022)

Batman: Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader? (Neil Gaiman and Andy Kubert, 2009)

The Sandman: Preludes & Nocturnes (Neil Gaiman, Sam Keith, Mike Dringenberg, and Malcom Jones III, 1988)

The Sandman: In the Doll's House (Neil Gaiman, Michael Zulli, Mike Dringenberg, Chris Bachalo, Malcolm Jones III, and Steve Parkhouse, 1989)

The Sandman: Dream Country (Neil Gaiman, Kelley Jones, Malcolm Jones III, Colleen Doran, and Charles Vess, 1991)

The Sandman: Season of Mists (Neil Gaiman, Kelley Jones, Malcom Jones III, Mike Dringenberg, Matt Wagner, P. Craig Russell, George Pratt, and Dick Giordano, 1992)

The Sandman: A Game of You (Neil Gaiman, Shawn McManus, Colleen Doran, Bryan Talbot, Stan Woch, and George Pratt, 1993)

Run, Riddler, Run (Gerard Jones and Mark Badger, 1992)

Catwoman: When in Rome (Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, 2005)

Batman: Year One (Frank Miller and David Mazzicchello, 1986)

Batman: One Bad Day - Penguin (John Ridley, Giuseppe Camuncoli, Cam Smith, and Arif Prianto, 2022)

Batman: Bruce Wayne - Fugitive (Greg Rucka et al, 2002)

Batman: One Bad Day - Two-Face (Mariko Tamaki, Jaiver Fernandez, and Jordie Bellaire, 2022)

Batman & Robin Eternal Vol 1 & Vol 2 (James Tynion IV and Scott Snyder, 2015 and 2016)

Batman: Their Dark Designs (James Tynion IV, Guillem March, and Tomeu Morey, 2020)

The Joker War Saga (James Tynion IV and Jorge Jiménez, 2021)

Papergirls Vol. 1-6 (Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang, 2016-2019)

Real Hero Shit (Kendra Wells, 2022)

Poison Ivy #1-6 (G. Willow Wilson and Marcio Takara, 2022)

and some gaming guides!

Monster of the Week (Michael Sands, 2012) - great game. so cool. cannot wait to actually play it someday.

Thirsty Sword Lesbians (April Kit Walsh, 2021)

special shame zone because I want you to know how bad this sucked, do not read this:

Rethinking Sex: A Provocation (Christine Emba, 2022). patronizing, puritanical, reductive, painfully cisheteronormative. weirdly afraid of group sex. not actually that provocative, just aggressively Catholic.

and last but most certainly least, a comic that I want to remind you all fucking sucked just one more time before the year is done.

Batman: One Bad Day - The Riddler (Tom King and Mitch Gerads, 2022)

Tom King, go fuck yourself. Mitch is cool though, the art slapped.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

'The Amazon rainforest entered the dry season already with a water deficit due to the 2023 drought,' says expert

The extreme drought stems from the 2023 El Niño and the loss of Amazon rainforest areas

“The drought is killing the coffee plantations,” laments family farmer Gersi de Souza, a resident of Acrelândia in Acre state, one of the 3,978 Brazilian municipalities affected by the current drought. “Last year, we were already in a tough situation. And the situation has become more complicated this year,” he says. This is the worst drought in 70 years in Brazil, according to data from the National Center for Monitoring and Alerts of Natural Disasters (CEMADEN, in English) of the Ministry of Science, Technology and Innovation. 

Researchers interviewed by Brasil de Fato believe that the phenomenon results from the influence of El Niño, which affected Brazil in 2023, and growing deforestation in the Amazon, which intensified during the Bolsonaro administration. “From 2019 to 2022, we lost 50,000 km² of primary forest, apart from secondary forest,” explains Luciana Gatti, coordinator of the greenhouse gas laboratory at the National Institute for Space Research (INPE, in Portuguese). Primary forests are the native forests of a biome, while secondary forests are those that have grown in a previously deforested area. “We haven’t recovered the 50,000 square kilometers of forest lost, and we haven’t zeroed out deforestation either,” she warns. 

El Niño, characterized by the warming of the waters of the Pacific Ocean, has reduced rainfall in the Amazon rainforest, bringing a dry summer to the region in 2023. “We saw fish deaths, dolphins, riverine populations, and Indigenous peoples isolated and having difficulty accessing high-quality water and transportation,” says Helga Correa, a conservation specialist at the NGO WWF Brasil. In 2024, the drought in the Amazon came earlier than expected, without the biome recovering from the previous drought. “We didn’t have enough rain in the wet season, and we entered the dry season with a water deficit,” she explains. 

Continue reading.

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

50 Million Years of Climate Change with Christina!

Have you ever thought about how dinosaurs lived on a warm, swampy Earth and how we live on one that’s cold enough to keep pretty much the entirety of Greenland and Antarctica buried under kilometers-thick sheets of solid ice and wondered, hmm, how did we get from there to here? The short answer is that it took 50 million years of declining atmospheric carbon dioxide concentrations and dropping temperatures, not to mention building an ice sheet or two. For the longer story of the last 50 million years of climate change, including some of the reasons why, catch this episode of our podcast with Dr De La Rocha! You’ll hear about plate tectonics and continental drift, silicate weathering, carbonate sedimentation, and the spectacular effects the growth of Earth’s ice sheets have had on Earth’s climate. There are also lessons here for where anthropogenic global warming is going and whether or not its effects have permanently disrupted the climate system. Fun fact: the total amount of climate change between 50 million years ago and now dwarfs what we’re driving by burning fossil fuels, and yet, what we’re doing is more terrifying, in that it’s unfolding millions of times faster.

Bonus content: If you want to see sketches and plots of the data discussed in this episode, you can do so here!

!!Nerd alert!! 

If you're interested in the primary scientific literature on the subject, these four papers are a great place to start.

Dutkiewicz et al (2019) Sequestration and subduction of deep-sea carbonate in the global ocean since the Early Cretaceous. Geology 47:91-94.

Müller et al (2022) Evolution of Earth’s plate tectonic conveyor belt. Nature 605:629–639.

Rae et al (2021) Atmospheric CO2 over the last 66 million years from marine archives. Annual Review of Earth and Planetary Sciences 49:609-641.

Westerfeld et al (2020) An astronomically dated record of Earth’s climate and its predictability over the last 66 million years. Science 369: 1383–1387.

Connect with Christina at her blog, on Twitter, and on Mastodon

Support the show on Patreon or make a one-time donation via PayPal.