#aperture entertainment

[eat-applez]

Fictional universe: And there was this COMPANY,,,,

Me: Oh they did some messed up shit didn’t they

EDIT: anyone who says “also in real life!!” or smth like that just know it’s been done 700 times.

[artcompany1]

If, for whatever reason, Chell willingly came back to aperture, Glados would be super happy about it, but she'd pretend she hated it.

Glados would go on about how she wished Chell stayed away but would never try and force her out or hint at an exit. She would conveniently lose the ability to summon a lift to the surface in an update.

She'd do things like give Chell the non-lethal test, or as non-lethal as aperture gets, but she'd go off about how Atlas and P-body are better equipped to do the dangerous test then Chell's fragile human body allows. She would also make comments about Chell's intelligence and how dumb she is.

She'd make Chell the nicest bedroom out of whatever she could fine. She'd also give her whatever human entertainment was still left. Stuff to entertain Chell while she was on her breaks, cause Glados is also giving her breaks now. She would, of course, justify this by talking about how her inferior human mind needs this to be a better test subject.

Chell would also coincidentally find tasty food lying around when she gets hungry. And, after all this time, she finally gets that cake. Glados only makes comments on her weight when she's eating unhealthy.

Glados would show Chell her growing bird army, to brag, of course. Occasionally, she would even let Chell play with them, obviously only to show her how much better they are than humans.

She would talk to Chell even when they weren't testing. She'd say that humans need one hour of conversation a day, but she'd talk to Chell way longer than that. And maybe, sometimes, Chell would feel comfortable talking back.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Morning Routines (non-canon?)

A quick note! This is NOT canon (at least at this moment), it's simply just a test fic that I'm using to write possible early character interactions between Pomni and Caine.

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

“There’s always a bright side to things; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

A hazy, feminine voice spoke to him.

In an instant, the voice was no more.

Caine blinked the sleep away from his green eye first, then his blue eye next. He was in his office, the sun bore down it’s morning rays through the glass of the elegant aperture, and he briefly thought that he should’ve closed the curtains last night.

No matter. Perhaps today will be a good day.

CRASH!

ON SECOND THOUGHT…….

The sounds of metal being continuously pummeled outside has him rushing to his windows to inspect. The “newest” addition to the mansion, the Combat Harlequin; Pomni…. was WRECKING HIS LATEST PROJE- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Wiping away the sweat that formed on the top of his gums, he rushes to grab his cane.

Words could not amount to how much Pomni was insanely bored. The sun assaulted the grassy plains outside, and Caine was still sleeping. She awaited her first mission today with too much energy that she needed to dispose of. So, the Harlequin did what she always does best: FIGHT.

Bubble chewed and chewed through the metal of the unknown apparatus, and she whistled for the Blimp.

“Bubble!”

“Yeah?”

“Toss that thing to me! I wanna see that scrap of metal SPARK!” She readied her blade.

The blimp saluted, grabbing the destroyed device and twirling it around in the air, before tossing it downwards to the blue-and-red outfitted brunette.

She manages to leap up high into the air and slice it in half, sending sparks to rain down onto the Harlequin and she lands on both feet athletically. Bubble clapped and twirled into the air, flashing his signature sharp smile. “Ooooh! Destruction! Wooo!” Bubble cheered and whistled.

Caine frantically ran outside to the mini-mayhem the two were causing, and visibly gasps at the sight of his recent project mangled beyond recognition.

“No! MY POOR BABY! What did she do to you…” He clutched at the apparatus with a seemingly sad expression etched on him as if he had just recently lost a loved one, before he pouted and glared disappointingly at the Harlequin. Pomni merely stared back with an unamused and blank expression.

“What? It fucking swung at me first.” She defended herself.

“IT WAS TRYING TO SERVE YOU COFFEE.” He clutched at the broken machine in his own hands. He sighs, dragging a hand across his eyes. “Why were you in the cellar anyways?”

“Duh, I was looking for something to entertain myself with, since you were fucking sleeping your ass off.” She shrugged, crossing her arms. “And then this bitch tried to punch me.” she pointed to the same device that she had been mangling for the past hour or so.

“IT’S A COFFEE MACHINE, POMNI! IT COULD NOT HURT YOU EVEN IF IT TRIED!!”  He woefully points one of the broken mechanical pieces of the coffee maker at her, and then it snaps to half in such a pathetic manner.

Today was totally NOT shaping up to be a good day for the Puppetmaster, and he groans.

Pomni leaned her sword onto her shoulder, and checked her left arm for any signs of damage as if checking her nails, unbothered by the situation. Her left arm was only oil and coffee stained. “Oh really? Well I didn’t know.” She looks away nonchalantly, not even an apology leaving her lips. Caine half-sobbed as he tried to look for ANY sign that this project was salvageable, but the Harlequin had broken it beyond belief.

He officially gave up trying to save it, grumbling and tossing it to the side carelessly while pouting like an angry toddler having their toy taken away from them instead. He then shifts his gaze to Bubble, who had merely been flying in place and staring at him with the same blank expression.

“And YOU! Why were YOU helping HER in the first place??” He pointed both arms to the blimp; then to the Harlequin –who was trying to swipe at a poor, nearby butterfly minding its own business with her sword– with his eccentric exaggeration, to which Bubble shrugs.

“I dunno, I like seeing things get broken. They’re pretty funny when they are!” The blimp replies, and Caine feels like the whole world is against him. Nonetheless, he stands up from his position, brushing himself off of some stray grasses that stuck to his clothing as he sighs.

“Whatever. Just- clean this whole mess up, will you?” He scratches at the side of his lower jaw, and the Blimp does a backflip in the air.

“I’m on it boss!” Bubble flew downwards… and chomped at the pieces slowly. Caine stared at him with the most disappointed look you’ll ever see from someone. “Why are you like this…?” He asks the blimp, who did not pay him any mind at all.

Pomni however, had just slain her most dastardly, dangerous opponent yet; a blue butterfly. So now she’s turning her attention to the Puppetmaster, crossing her arms again as she awaits a new command from him.

“I THOUGHT you were gonna give me SOMETHING to fight today.” She crossed and tapped at her arm in annoyance. Caine was already tired, and he just darn woke up. A quick sigh escapes him, he wants to quickly get away from this situation and just have a darn drink, for god’s sake.    

“And I will eventually, but now that you’ve ruined the coffee machine I finished making last night, I think that today’s schedule will be a bit delayed; I can’t hear myself think when I haven’t had my morning coffee yet.” He explains while rubbing his "temples" (which would be the sides of his top jaw), then pulls out a normal pocket watch to check at the time.

09:25.

Darn it, he woke up late again. He really needs to get a better alarm. Hm.

He turns back to face the Harlequin again. “Fine. Go out and slay a few marionettes to entertain yourself, would certainly give me enough time to settle and think of a plan of action for today.”

Pomni scoffs. “I don’t need your fucking permission to do anything-” yet she’s already heading out in the same direction as the gates as soon as he was done speaking. Bubble flew close to Caine, finishing up the last of the debris and mimicking swallowing, black smoke coming out of his mouth. “All done, boss!” the blimp reports.

“Bubble, keep an eye out on her as per usual. Tell me over on the comms if anything goes ever so slightly wrong.”

“You got it, chief!”

This has been their chaotic routine ever since Pomni, The Combat Harlequin Puppet, began staying inside the mansion, and he surmises it’s been almost a year since then, only by rough estimates. She’d be antsy, not sleeping at night nor day, always wanting to swing her sword at something… And Caine would wake up to the terrible noise of her either beating something up, or just straight up destroying one of his projects that he accidentally leaves hanging around.

Sometimes he wished he could do something effective about her situation, and figure out how to make her into a more aware person like he is; she hasn’t shown any interest in things except fighting. If anything, the closest she’d recently shown interest in would be a fish sandwich; salmon, to be more precise. She seemed to like the sensation of eating, at the very least. But that’s as close as to finding a crumb on a brick wall.

For now, she’s stuck in this cycle that she keeps perpetuating due to the lack of proper guidance, and he needs to figure this one out without having to resort to the other option yet.

‘She’s not ready’, he convinces himself. He needs to be crafty with this approach. He didn’t earn his awareness overnight by being told long, boring details anyways, heck, it took him longer than she did now.

She needed to discover it for herself.

The Puppetmaster heads on inside to try and make himself a morning brew to combat his tiredness. He hadn’t even noticed in his panic earlier that the main lounge had one too many sword slices on the walls; no doubt her handiwork. That’s another one of the damages on the checklist today. His destination is the cellar, where he retrieves coffee beans to brew.

His communicator flares up, and Pomni’s voice peers through.

“CAINE!”

The panic in her voice makes him almost drop the bag, and he fumbles through his coat to grab the communicator. “Pomni! Is everything alright in there?!” he asks, attempting to maintain composure, but there’s a pit forming in his stomach.

“I-I don’t know, I just found this- this HUGE marionette and I- AH!!!” There’s a lot of crashing in the background, and he has the urge to blink as fast as possible to their current location.

“HOLD ON! I’M COMING!” He was attempting to grab his Wondrous Apparatus for Cohorted Kindred (souls) on the Yonder to check for what part of the city they were in, until he heard Pomni and Bubble laugh through the communicator.

“GOTCHA! HAHA, we’re fine, I was bored so I decided to fuck with you a little to scare the shit out of you.”

The Puppetmaster has to lean on to a nearby wall as he visibly tries to calm his shaking panic. “OH MY GOD, WOMAN. DO NOT DO THAT TO ME EVER AGAIN, I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK.” He leans his back to the wall and clutches at his exposed heart.

“Idiot, Puppets don’t get heart attacks.”

“IT’S A METAPHOR!”

“Sounds like a stupid one”

…. Maybe it’s not too late to drop her off into the Circus arena and leave her there…

He shakes his head.

NO.

HE WILL make this work.

HE WILL NOT GIVE UP ON HER.

This is the most progress ANY Puppet has ever done in a long time, all it takes…. Is a little time…. patience… and effort.

There’s more crashing in the communicators as Bubble and Pomni lay waste to what seemed to be a struggling marionette, cheering for it’s destruction.

Sigh.

This is going to be an arduous journey. He’s going to need at least 3 cups today.

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

[ttalgi]

aperture [ ◉¯] ✧˖° masterlist

scaramouche x f!reader smau

synopsis: inazuma entertainment's number 1 model seemingly dissappears after a family scandal and isn't really seen for months...until a tweet picturing him goes viral

otherwise known as how [name] tries to make amends with scara for putting him in the spotlight again

genres/content warning: social media au, college au, enemies to lovers, lowercase writing, angst, fluff, cursing, alcohol/drinking, substance abuse (far in the future chs...is this a spoiler?), mentions of death (like kys/kms in joking manners), delulu behavior, etc (I'll update as I write)

status: on-going! slow updates

notes:

this started out as a 3am thought that i made a mini post about, which turned into this!

light mode -> [name] & dark mode -> scara

im trying to show the dates/time in the smau chronologically, but sometimes it might leave my mind 🤷🏻‍♀️

divider by @cafekitsune !

chapters

teaser

name's group ● scara's group

film roll

exposure 1 - party of the century

exposure 2 - NOT the bathroom

exposure 3 - WHERE'S [NAME]?! ☆ wc: 0.3k

exposure 4 - the aftermath

exposure 5 - [NAME] WAKE UP PLS

exposure 6 - what's a scarymoose?

exposure 7 - this imbecile

exposure 8 - the first day

exposure 9 - liars all around

exposure 10 - he's smart too?!

exposure 11 -

taglist: OPEN! send an ask or comment to be added! @k1an4a @veekoko @raewrz @evsolostheuniverse @feiherp @meigalaxy @bananasquash @barbatosfavouritenun @featuredtofu @tartagliascumdumpp @freshlaundry @beriiov @itzblazekun @lyzisbitchingagain @nnasv @vanishes-into-gold @seternic @cieluna @fangygf @xtobefreex @miyahearts @eternal-dokja @swivy123 @scaranthropy @kukikoooo @17visage @simpaghettits @kaitfae @miyen01 @capcryooo @kunikuzushis-darling @ainnofinway @b2ne @chemiru @l0vely-her @vxcmx @tamikahoshiko @vxcmx @animeobsessed56

[hydrngea]

ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ

a/n : first jj fic! this is mostly unedited, so sorry in advance. this fic was totally not inspired by a nostalgic bridget mendler song hope you enjoy <3 requests are open

notes/summary : you’re grounded and stuck reading romeo and julliet when a certain visitor tries to get your attention from your window. | jj x f!reader, fluff, no spoilers for obx3

word count : 833

masterlist

being grounded was not supposed to be a part of your weekend plans.

well, to be fair, it wasn’t the most prudent decision-making on your part either; sneaking in late from a party at the beach, drunk. especially on a school night too.

not your proudest moment, being caught red-handed by your parents as you tried and miserably failed to sneak into your bedroom window.

which is why you are here now- confined to the comfort of your home for the next two weeks. oh, and no electronics either.

phone? gone. laptop? also gone. hell, they even found your spare ipod from middle school in one of your drawers, so even your last resort is poof-gone.

so instead of being out with the rest of the pogues on another great adventure, you’re stuck, sitting at your bed catching up on reading romeo and juliet of all books for your english project due on monday.

you have to admit, it’s not the worst play your english teacher could’ve assigned. even with all the odd old-timey lingo, you’re still somewhat interested; likely because of the fact you hardly have anything else to entertain you, but still.

halfway through romeo’s sappy romantic monologue, you hear a loud clunk against your window. your gaze shoots up from the book up to the glass, contemplating whether to let it slide or get up to investigate.

you choose the former, too comfortable on top of your freshly made bed to set the book down and drag yourself over just to find nothing.

with a sigh, you restart the sentence you left on just to be interrupted once again by another thump coming from your window.

probably the gutter you think, until you see a pebble make contact with the aperture.

you push yourself up and trudge across the room.

your forehead presses against the cool glass whilst you try to find the source of the stones before you recognize the vague outline of someone standing in your front yard.

sliding the latch open, you lean against the ledge and stick your head out.

“hey! what do you think you’re-“

your sentence fades as your eyes meet jj’s, a big grin spread across his face.

another pebble lands on top of your roof and ricochets back onto your driveway.

“you weren’t answering our texts!” he shrugs, “someone had to make sure you didn’t die.”

you roll your eyes, combing your fingers through your hair. “jeezus j! wait there.”

you quickly paddle down the stairs, simultaneously thanking all the gods that your parents were fast asleep at this time of night. you open the back door and gesture for jj to come in, bringing a finger up to your lips.

 “you could’ve woken my parents up,” you chastize while half whispering-half yelling at him as he strides in, chuckling.

“you had me worried, sweetheart.”

the use of your pet name makes your frustration dim slightly. you let out a small sigh-and even though you find it impulsive of him to be throwing literal rocks at your window in the middle of the night- you can’t help but be relieved to see him here.

you shut and lock the door to your bedroom  as jj collapses onto your mattress, landing right on top of your open copy of the play.

“ow fuck,” he exclaims, jumping into a sitting position. he rubs at his hip where there's surely to be a bruise tomorrow from the point of the book. “what was that?”

you roll your eyes again, relaxing back onto your bed  beside him with your cheek resting on your hand.

“shakespeare.”

jj snorts, picking up the book and placing it on your side table, “since when do you read shakespeare of all things.”

“since i got grounded and i have nothing else to do.”

“you could do-“ 

your palm shoves into his chest before he can finish his sentence. “nu, uh. what were you doing out there at two in the morning?” you question.

“i’m sorry, my lady.” he over-exaggerates an apology, grasping your hands in his. “ will thou ever forgive thee?” he enunciates with the emulation of a shitty british accent. 

you arch your brow, “for tossing rocks at my window or for that horrible accent?”

“both?”

“hmm…”

“please?” jj juts his bottom lip out, feigning a pout, looking at you with his beautiful blue orbs.

you let out a giggle, scooting towards him until your front is pressed up by his. you throw your leg over his torso- straddling him- and place your hands on the back of his neck, playing with some stray strands of his blonde locks.

“hmm…well considering it’s what romeo did to get julliets attention, i guess I can’t blame you for trying to be a romantic,” you respond, lips meeting the skin underneath his jawline.

jj’s hands run over your back, sliding up your flimsy pajama top suggestively.

“i thought that was just a thing gnomeo did in gnomeo and julliet, if i’m being honest.” 

you chuckle against his neck, pulling back slightly to lock your eyes with his, “you’re fucking insufferable, jj.”

he tilts his chin up, bringing his lips to brush under yours, “love you too, babe.”

-----

pls tell me you guys have watched gnomeo and juliet. hc- jj was obsessed both gnomeo and juliet and sherlock gnomes. 

taglist (lmk if you’d like to be added!) : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover 

check out my newest fic !!!

follow and reblog and i'll do the same for you! 

[thebrickinbrick]

Preparations

THE journals of the day which said that that nearly impregnable structure of the barricade of the Rue de la Chanvrerie, as they call it, reached to the level of the first floor, were mistaken. The fact is, that it did not exceed an average height of six or seven feet. It was built in such a manner that the combatants could, at their will, either disappear behind it or dominate the barrier and even scale its crest by means of a quadruple row of paving-stones placed on top of each other and arranged as steps in the interior. On the outside, the front of the barricade, composed of piles of paving-stones and casks bound together by beams and planks, which were entangled in the wheels of Anceau's dray and of the overturned omnibus, had a bristling and inextricable aspect.

An aperture large enough to allow a man to pass through had been made between the wall of the houses and the extremity of the barricade which was furthest from the wine-shop, so that an exit was possible at this point. The pole of the omnibus was placed upright and held up with ropes, and a red flag, fastened to this pole, floated over the barricade.

The little Mondétour barricade, hidden behind the wine-shop building, was not visible. The two barricades united formed a veritable redoubt. Enjolras and Courfeyrac had not thought fit to barricade the other fragment of the Rue Mondétour which opens through the Rue des Prêcheurs an issue into the Halles, wishing, no doubt, to preserve a possible communication with the outside, and not entertaining much fear of an attack through the dangerous and difficult street of the Rue des Prêcheurs.

With the exception of this issue which was left free, and which constituted what Folard in his strategical style would have termed a branch, and taking into account, also, the narrow cutting arranged on the Rue de la Chanvrerie, the interior of the barricade, where the wine-shop formed a salient angle, presented an irregular square, closed on all sides. There existed an interval of twenty paces between the grand barrier and the lofty houses which formed the background of the street, so that one might say that the barricade rested on these houses, all inhabited, but closed from top to bottom.

All this work was performed without any hindrance, in less than an hour, and without this handful of bold men seeing a single bear-skin cap or a single bayonet make their appearance. The very bourgeois who still ventured at this hour of riot to enter the Rue Saint-Denis, cast a glance at the Rue de la Chanvrerie, caught sight of the barricade, and redoubled their pace.

The two barricades being finished, and the flag run up, a table was dragged out of the wine-shop; and Courfeyrac mounted on the table.

Enjolras brought the square coffer, and Courfeyrac opened it. This coffer was filled with cartridges. When the mob saw the cartridges, a tremor ran through the bravest, and a momentary silence ensued.

Courfeyrac distributed them with a smile.

Each one received thirty cartridges. Many had powder, and set about making others with the bullets which they had run.

As for the barrel of powder, it stood on a table on one side, near the door, and was held in reserve.

The alarm beat which ran through all Paris, did not cease, but it had finally come to be nothing more than a monotonous noise to which they no longer paid any attention. This noise retreated at times, and again drew near, with melancholy undulations.

They loaded the guns and carbines, all together, without haste, with solemn gravity. Enjolras went and stationed three sentinels outside the barricades, one in the Rue de la Chanvrerie, the second in the Rue des Prêcheurs, the third at the corner of the Rue de la Petite Truanderie.

Then, the barricades having been built, the posts assigned, the guns loaded, the sentinels stationed, they waited, alone in those redoubtable streets through which no one passed any longer, surrounded by those dumb houses which seemed dead and in which no human movement palpitated, enveloped in the deepening shades of twilight which was drawing on, in the midst of that silence through which something could be felt advancing, and which had about it something tragic and terrifying, isolated, armed, determined, and tranquil.

[worst-fictional-places-to-work]

The contestants are set!

With 100 responses, i unfortunately could not include everything <//3. However, there will be 52 contestants as listed bellow, and 26 polls for the first round!

I will begin the polls shortly, may the worst place win!

PLACE: The Stanley parable company place MEDIA: the stanely parable

VS

PLACE: Papa's Pizzeria MEDIA: Papa's Pizzeria

PLACE: Hazbin hotel MEDIA:Hazbin hotel

VS

PLACE: VVV MEDIA: Hazbin hotel

PLACE: Altobuck Hospital MEDIA: Blackout Hospital

VS

PLACE: Aether West Academy MEDIA: Here For Sweet Hearts

PLACE: Jovial Playground MEDIA: Jovial Playground - Roblox

VS

PLACE: Glorp N Go MEDIA: Regretevator - Roblox

PLACE: The BAU (the behavioral analysis unit) MEDIA: criminal minds

VS

PLACE: Princeton plainsboro teaching hospital MEDIA: House m.d.

PLACE: Global Relief Effort (GRE) MEDIA: Dying Light/Dying Light 2

VS

PLACE: IMC (Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation) MEDIA: Titanfall 2

PLACE: JCJenson MEDIA: Murder Drones

VS

PLACE: The Company MEDIA: Lethal Company

PLACE: Rizzo’s MEDIA: Outer Worlds

VS

PLACE: The Halcyon Corporation MEDIA: Outer Worlds

PLACE: Arkham Asylum MEDIA: DCU

VS

PLACE: Lexcorp MEDIA: Superman comics/tv shows/movies

PLACE: StrexCorp MEDIA: Welcome to Night Vale

VS

PLACE: Night Vale Community Radio MEDIA: Welcome to Nightvale

PLACE: Gent corporation MEDIA: BATDR

VS

PLACE: Joey Drew Studios MEDIA: Bendy And The Ink Machine

PLACE: Archeological expedition funded by Whitmore Industries/Preston Whitmore MEDIA: Atlantis the Lost Empire

VS

PLACE: Clovis Bray / Braytech MEDIA: Deatiny 2

PLACE: Engineering on the USS Enterprise NCC-1701 MEDIA: Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS)

VS

PLACE: Discovery One MEDIA: 2001 A Space Odyssey

PLACE: Lobotomy Corporation MEDIA: Lobotomy Corporation (the game)

VS

PLACE: The Combine Overwatch MEDIA: Half Life

PLACE: Lumon MEDIA: Severance

VS

PLACE: I.R.I.S. MEDIA: Anomaly Found - Chase Brody by Jacksepticeye on Youtube

PLACE: hero association MEDIA: one punch man

VS

PLACE: Public Safety Devil Hunters MEDIA: Chainsaw Man

PLACE: Princess Peach's Royal Guard MEDIA: Super Mario Bros.

VS

PLACE: Mettatons restaurant MEDIA: Undertale

PLACE: Aether foundation MEDIA: Pokemon

VS

PLACE: The Fatui MEDIA: Genshin Impact

PLACE: Goddard Futuristics MEDIA: Wolf 359 (podcast)

VS

PLACE: The Magnus Institute MEDIA: The Magnus Archives

PLACE: D.D.D MEDIA: That’s not my neighbor

VS

PLACE: Grand Army of the Republic MEDIA: Star Wars (Attack of the Clones to Revenge of the Sith era)

PLACE: Coven Communications Research and Power (CCRP) MEDIA: The hatchetfield series (starkid)

VS

PLACE: ASU-NARO MEDIA: yttd (Your Turn to Die - Death Game by Majority)

PLACE: Fairy godmother's factory MEDIA: Shrek 2

VS

PLACE: COGs incorporated MEDIA: Disney’s Toontown

PLACE: Fazbender Entertainment MEDIA: The Dayshift At Freddy's series

VS

PLACE: Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex MEDIA: Five nights at freddy's

PLACE: UAC (Union Aerospace Corporation) MEDIA: doom

VS

PLACE: Immediate Murder Professionals (IMP) MEDIA: Helluva Boss

PLACE: S.C.P. Foundation MEDIA: S.C.P. Foundation

VS

PLACE: Aperture science MEDIA: Portal

PLACE: GrizzCo MEDIA: Splatoon

VS

PLACE: Mystery Flesh Pit National Park MEDIA: Mystery Flesh Pit National Park

[froggipied]

For Science- Chapter 1

Ao3 link; https://archiveofourown.org/works/41680413/chapters/104553549

Discord Server Link: https://discord.gg/KB6vWVAp

To summarize tags for those reading on tumblr; This is x reader fanfiction. This work of fiction is partially canon compliant, but is planned to be 'canon-adjacent'. This genre is Isekai, but mainly for explanatory purposes and forced omnipotence of the mc.

Portal mods included in story: Portal stories: Mel, Portal: Revolution

Word Count: 4.4k

----

Chapter One

Science is objective. Anything could be an experiment, and to Aperture Science, Ethics are a suggestion made by Morons.

–

You knew something was wrong the moment you opened your eyes. It felt like waking from a dream, although you were certain you had just closed your eyes for a moment while talking to a co-worker one moment you were in a bleak little office party with disinterested co-workers, talking to the one you could stand, and the next, you were in a little bleak creme colored room with one pair of doors opened on the other side of it. The hinges to the doors squeaked back and forth as they rattled opened and closed. Dazed, you stare around yourself, look down at your hands for confirmation. Not a dream. At least..you’re doubtful it were. Time would only tell, but most dreams have something off about them.

A panel to one of the walls collapsed before your feet as you stood up, revealing wiring and metal that didn’t seem normal. A room was built of panels held up by wood or metal framing, but this wasn’ a frame. You were no architect but even you knew this wasn’t normal for a panel.

The door behind you squeaks again, catching your attention, and against your rational judgment, you left the soft colored room out into the bleak.

Stark gray pillars as far as the eye could see, stretching into the sky and far into the ground below. The only walk-space you had was a narrow catwalk made of decaying bars that shuddered and creaked as you stood on them. Unnerving,you decided. You'd try to find an area not made of catwalks sooner than later.

You Give yourself another once-over while you walk. Same shirt, same pants. Same shoes, too. Nothing about your attire had changed. That'd be a first for a dream. 

The catwalks stretched on for what seemed to be forever. As far as you could see, they connected and spiraled and led to different areas of a bleak open space. Somewhere broken with rusted metal hanging just over your head, other areas shuddered and clattered as you jogged across them. It felt like you were running behind something. The area itself reminded you of the backstage. Was there something on the other side of the panels? A show, maybe? 

You entertain yourself with the thought, just for fun. Something to brush your mind away from bubbling worries of kidnapping or escapes. 

What if, behind that very panel, were some actors playing a terribly done rendition of Macbeth? Funny enough, in your opinion.

The catwalks lead you through doors that whirr as they unlock, a little orange light turns green. Occasionally, they take too long to open, as though rusted. Like the rest of this place, you find yourself lamenting in annoyance. You wanted to get out of here quickly. Through one set of doors was a catwalk leading beside a time. One little blinking red light catches your attention. While the thing is familiar, you can’t make sense of it.

Though you try to walk by, a little voice stops you. 

“I’m different.”

“Hm.” you have places to be, and you really can’t spend time with..whatever this is. “Nice ch–”

“Icarus flew to the sun on waxen wings, desperate for its warm embrace.Though gentle to the earth, the sun was not gentle to man. Icarus burnt,falling to the cold sea.”

“..Nice chat.” you mutter, thoroughly disturbed by the little thing as you passed by another set of doors. It’s just mythology. And not even accurate mythology.

There’s something familiar about all of this, though you couldn't put it in words. Something like deja vu, which seemed outrageously silly to you. Until you heard a voice, muffled behind a set of doors.

“I should probably bring you up to speed on something,right about now.”

Familiar. You decide. Like someone you’d heard before. You swear you recognize it, but you can't puzzle it out. You passed through the squeaky set of doors, glancing briefly down at the floor of tattered checkerboard,unaligned and broken, concrete raised precariously out of the ground that you had to step around to avoid 

Familiar, you frown as you walk through the hallway and see it. Him, more like. A robot, followed closely by a brunette woman in a jumper with something in her hands. Their backs were turned to you while they walked, and while he talked. 

You know where you are, and you felt silly for not realizing it sooner. A game you played as a kid, and what the hell were you doing here?

Though the robot wasn’t just a core, he did have arms and legs and a body as anyone would expect of an android..but the core for a head. Weird, you decided.

“In order to Escape, we have to pass through Her chamber…and she will most definitely kill us. If she's awake”

Your foot slips against a checkered tile, and it slides a few inches ahead of you, clattering around with the sound of fragile glass. It gives both the android and the woman pause. The woman looks over her shoulder, and her gaze narrows as she spots you. The android, on the other hand, starts walking over without another thought “Oh, Hello! Are you staff? You must be staff, since there isn’t anyone–” he pauses,optic blinking wide”er–ignore that, nothing’s wrong with the folks in suspension! Heh..-uhm..” he taps his hands together as you stare between him and the woman standing rigid behind him.

He follows your gaze and after a moment, he waves dismissively “her? She’s a bit brain damaged, you know how they are when they come out of it! Can’t speak at all..” he squints “I think.”

“Right.” You mutter. The moment you speak, the core’s head turns back around and he exclaims 

“Ah-! You speak. Great, really great. I was getting a little tired of being the only voice in the room. uhm..So- I’m trying to get this one out of here. She seems eager enough, and er..that’s..that’s not going to be a problem, is it?”

“Ah..No, not at all.” why you were going along with what the moron set for you, pretending to be a member of aperture, you weren’t sure. To avoid suspicion? Chell, however, seemed perfectly suspicious of you, not moving from where she stood on the far side of the room. “She’s offline, as it were,so…testing can’t really er..happen.”

“Right.” the core nods, turning back around on his heels as he keeps walking after chell, talking loudly “So, to recap. Facility? Brink of destruction,totally unstable. Unfixable, even. Getting the lady-and myself-out of here through her..her chambers.” He grunts and shies away from the door once it starts opening from Chell’s proximity to it. “Actually– hold on, wait, we don’t have to. We should just– leave it be, yeah we should leave her be and–” the door reaches the top, and in a heap of dirt, dust and botanic life was a humanoid figure with an oblong head, optic partially hanging out of the ‘head’ “Whew– she’s off.” Wheatley mutters, hanging to the side of the doorway for a moment as Chell trudged ahead of him without stopping. You followed after the human and robot, and Wheatley whistled. 

“There she is..” he steps delicately over her body while you walk around her “Nasty piece of work she was–right?” he looks at you with a wide optic.

“Right.”

Wheatley jogs to keep up with Chell, and you followed suit “A proper maniac she was, really. Word of mouth? She killed everyone in the facility once. Railway operations department was not happy about that.” he shakes his head. “Know who took her down, in the end? A human. Like you too. All flesh and bones took her down.Not much known about him. Just..took her out and went and uh..no one’s seen him since.” you almost find the prattling amusing. If you weren’t trying to figure out a whole different matter of how to get out of here. “And uh…not much has happened since. Just..a lot of quiet and then us escaping now so er..yeah don’t touch anything.”

While Chell walks ahead of the two of you, Wheatley just keeps on talking, which you don’t particularly mind filling the silence. “This place has seen better days,certainly. I’m er– glad that she’s gone, of course. But it was a lot cleaner when she was awake. There’s this one fellow I know? Obnoxious with the cleaning ‘this is messy’, ‘this chamber is filled with bones’, ‘this track is broken and i can’t fix it,what if someone comes’, just prattling, really.” he huffs “not the best of guys, either. My standards are..not everyone’s, of course. Probably fine. Probably a fine guy but uhm..he wanted to turn her back on. Tried to, too, I think. Dunno how that went down but seeing as she’s still off…safe to say he failed, i’d think.” you’re not even sure who the hell he’s talking about, but it is filling the silence, so you don’t interrupt him,for his own sake. “Ah, we’re coming upon a drop. Rusted bars n’ all. Might want to watch your head. And your feet. And maybe..” he glances over at you, squinted and scrutinizing. “You..don’t have fall boots.”

“Nope.”

“Well, that is definitely an issue, considering the drop. I mean, you humans are plenty fragile without the danger of drops or injuries or blood or–well actually, no, a drop like that might be fine, if you can stand a broken bone or two. Though, we don't actually have any way to reset the bone, so as long as you’re fine with a permanently odd leg, then it should be perfectly fine.” he eyes the drop over Chell’s shoulder, and starts up again “uh–lady, think you’ve got the boots to sp–” Chell jumps off of the railing without a second thought, hitting the floor rough and stable. She briefly turns, looking back up at the railing, before she takes a step back to rest against a wall. She’s waiting, now.

Wheatley glances down at the drop again, and squints “Actually, now thinking about it, a human’s head would split like a melon from a height like this. So, a good bit of advice doesn't land on it. Or your arms, either. They'll break like the legs. So uh..don’t go head-first. Or arms first. And especially not elbows first. I don’t have elbows, but if i did, i wouldn't want to fall on those. Or–actually, judging it..it is probably too high to jump without long fall boots. so…Metal man, Human..person.” he squints “More likely to survive a good old fall, yeah? Not made of plastic and all that.”

“You’d probably be fine.”

“Well...i did fall off my management rail and was perfectly fine, so..” Wheatley hums as he stares down at the drop. Unceremoniously, you were thrown over the android’s shoulder, which hurt far more than it should’ve, and dropped back onto your feet after the jump. “Et Voila!” Wheatley hums with a little flourish of his arms ``perfectly intact, the both of us.” Chell bumps her shoulder off the wall as she turns around the corner..to another set of catwalks. Wheatley yelps not long after, staring directly below himself “Ah- I do not recommend looking down, awful long fall…Ah-! Just done it again, terrible..This place just goes down. Miles and miles really. All sealed off years ago, of course.” The robot mutters, metal hand gripping the bars to the catwalk far too tightly as he shambled after Chell.

A silent woman on a mission, she was. Understandably so. A desire for freedom from the hell that aperture was at its core. A Tumor of unethical practices and a lack of humanity or morality.

Chell pauses upon coming across the main breaker room, and wheatley walks around her, squinting at the wall of buttons “Alright,” he chirps “So, there should be a switch labeled ‘ESCAPE POD’, don’t touch anything else. Not interested in anything else. Don't Touch anything else. Don't even Look at anything else, just--well, obviously you've got to look at everything else to find ESCAPE POD, but as soon as you've looked at something and it doesn't say ESCAPE POD, look at something else, look at the next thing. Alright? But don't touch anything else or look at any--well, look at other things, but don't... you understand." Wheatley rambles on as his head turns this way and that, searching up the wall of levers and switches with a narrowed pupil, humming to himself “No..no.. movement controls, interesting– no. nothing else. Lights…mmmnh no nothing else.” In a fluid movement, the android spins halfway to face you and Chell. 

“Tell you what, Might be easier if I'm plugged into the system. And..the lights. Might need the lights. So just plug me on in and I'll turn on the lights.” You were going to ask how exactly to go about that, before Chell pulls a long cable from the main breaker, plugging the cable into the back of Wheatley’s head as he turns back around to the system. The lights flash on at once, and both you and the woman cover your eyes briefly as Wheatley gestures “Let there be light!”

“That’s uh…god. I was quoting god..” Wheatley trails off slowly, and when met with an awkward silence by both you and the mute woman, he grunts “Tough crowd.”

There was an issue you hadn’t considered. Glados. She was going to turn on, throw Wheatley to rubble and throw Chell into testing, but just what would she do with an outlier? And Anomaly, more like? A wrench in the plan, even. You’re not entirely certain you wanted to find out.

But aperture rarely left time for pondering, as the platform started to turn slowly, and Chell wobbled on her feet, grasping behind her for anything to hold onto. “Oh, it’s turning!” Wheatley chimes nervously as he laughs “Ominous..but fine, as long as it doesn’t start moving up. Now..escape pod..escape pod.” he trails off quietly to himself. The platform whirrs loudly as it starts moving up, and the robot grunts “Ah it is–it’s moving up.” he hunches over the control panel as he talks “Okay! No, don’t worry. Don’t worry at all, it can fix this, I can fix it–fixing it…now” Wheatley’s pupil shrinks to a pinprick as he looks above himself. “No..makes it go faster..uh-oh..”

“Can you still fix it?”

“Listen– don’t panic, stop panicking” Chell watches the robot with a stony expression as the main breaking clicks into place at the ground level. “I Can, I Can still fix this, I can still stop it.” Wheatley glances down at the main breaker as the intercom whirrs to life

“Powerup initiated.” Daunting, that’s what that is. A message in dead air of what’s to come. A very large part of yourself hopes that Glados finds you an interesting anomaly and keeps you alive.

“Ohh that is not good” Wheatley mutters “ah- oh.there’s password. That is..fine. I‘ll just hack it. Not a problem.” You’d say you and chell beg to differ.

As Wheatley tries to hack the password combination by combination, Chell’s expression steels at the sight of the android’s figure being lifted up from the ground by pipes and wires connected through the back of her neck. Her legs were in a state of disrepair, one torn with red and blue wiring spilling out of it, and blue and yellow sparks flew as water dripped out of cracked casing. Her head slowly rises and falls backwards while sparks flew from her head, optic pulling itself back in and establishing a connection.

“Can you help at all?” Wheatley mutters “I think…I did B already. Someone needs to write this down. Grab a pen or–”

“Powerup Complete.”

“Okay, okay alright. This is fine.  Just be nice– totally nice, act natural, we’ve done nothing wrong.” Glados’ head falls forward as her optic constricts and contracts, before ultimately focusing on Chell, who stares right back at her. Without a lick of fear, that one. “Hello!” Wheatley chirps.

“Oh.” Glados’ steps forward and broken legs. It nearly looks like levitating,pulling along by the tubing out of her head “It’s you.”

Wheatley’s head spins to look between you and Chell. A silent woman, but her glare gives her away “You know her?” he questions.

“It’s been a long time.” Glados chides smoothly, not paying any mind to you nor the core, focused on Chell “How have you been?” Chell’s eyebrow twitches. You conclude that this ‘long time no see’ tone of phrase isn’t all that pleasing to the woman “I’ve been really busy being dead.” Glados breathes without the need to “You know, after you murdered me.”

“You did what?”

Two claws descend from above Glados’ chassis, lifting chell up from the hand, though if she were in pain, she betrays nothing to Glados. It’s commendable..if not worrying. Wheatley on the other hand, is lifted from the head, screaming “No no no—No no no-Agh!” Sparks flew as the wire connecting him by the head to the main breaker was ripped out and clattered by your feet. 

“Okay, look. We both said things that you’re going to regret.” glados’ head doesn’t even turn to regard the core before the claw drops and grabs, crushing Wheatley's outer casing,and his optic blinks out as the claw tosses the body into a heap across from her. Something about even that reads to you now as restraint, exerting Control, even. Crushing the core as to not crush her enemy. “But I think we can put our differences aside. For science. You monster.”

As the claw slowly drags Chell over the incinerator, Glados’ voice takes on a lighter tone,body being dragged along by wires “I will say though, that since you went to all the trouble of waking me up, you must really really love to test. I love it too. There’s just one small thing we have to take care of, first.” You watch as the claw drops the woman into the incinerator. Only once it closes and the claw rises up and away, does Glados turn slowly around to regard you. The anomaly.

Glados’s optic stares down at you, a blinding yellow light amidst the decay, and you shrink back a step, towards the heap of scrap that Wheatley currently was, laying in a broken pile. The robot’s angular body shifts forwards as she walks towards you, wires dragging slowly behind her broken legs. Commanding, that’s what you think of her in person. She commands a respect about her, and she was downright scary, even smaller than you’d seen her in the game. 

“You are not permitted to be here.” She states. Not a question. An objective, undeniable fact. “You are not a test subject.” Glados has no panels to her optic, like the core. It’s far harder to read her ‘expressions’ beyond tone of voice. The monotony of it doesn’t help you one bit. Mad? Intrigued? Civil? You couldn’t be sure.

“Yeah.” you trail off, not denying the fact.

Wires spill out behind her legs as she walks straight towards you, looming over your head.”What are you doing here?”

You don’t have an answer for her. What would you say, something as childish as ‘i dunno’? Absolutely not. So you lie. “..Studying.”

The robot’s head tilts backward as she scrutinizes you. Or at least, you certainly feel as though she was. ‘Go.”

“What?”

“Study.” She states, turning slowly on her heel. “When the incinerator is operational, your study ends.” You don’t like the sound of that. It’s not malice, but it’s undeniable that in the robot’s view, you were an intruder of some sort. “Take the core with you.’ It’s not a request for you to do so, she was telling you to leave and take the core with you through a different door she had opened. 

“Why?” You don’t know exactly what compels you to ask. To question Her, while she’s telling you your time is limited. You don’t have the seconds to waste, and yet you were.

“A test.” she doesn’t turn around, nor turn her head to stare at you. Instead, she regards her facility in such a state of disrepair. “Humans are made of Will, in theory. She proves it.” You’d think that might be the nicest thing she’s said of Chell. “Either she is an anomaly, or you will prove it as well.” So it’s a test for you to get answers about her.

You don’t have it in you to stay any longer in the room with a homicidal rogue AI who is still currently upset from the encounter with her murderer, instead quickly hooking your arms around the broken core’s body and dragging him along with you back through the door, which slams shut as soon as you were through it.

Wheatley Whirrs back to life not long after, on the catwalks. You had dropped him not moments ago, the strain being too much to bear on your arms. He sits up, searching and bewildered as you laid your hands on your knees, breathing hard. Solid metal, you’re frankly surprised you got this far. A single turn away from the door you were allowed through.

“Oh…this is not good.” Wheatley mumbles as his cracked optic looks this way and that, constricting and contracting. A constriction too small for the iris, and sparks would fly “Agh-”

“Thank god.” You mutter “Heavy metal.”

“What?”

“You. Are heavy.” You point with one hand as you straighten back up, turning your head around to stare down the seemingly endless line the catwalks made.

“Well, yes, I’m-I’m made of solid metal and titanium bearings, of course i would be heavy. Not exactly meant to be carried. Or to do the carrying– really, but i did, if you’ll remember–”

“We’ve got to go.” You decide, squinting. In the first place, you needed to find some way for Wheatley to fix himself up. His optic hanging that loosely out of the ‘socket’ couldn’t be good, neither were the tears and large cracks in the casing. Wires hanging out of the top of his head.

“You what?”

“We’re running on borrowed time.” you don't wait for him to get onto his feet, although you reasonably should’ve. Now that you’re not carrying a hunk of dead-weight metal with no-functional springs, you’re running on adrenaline. Not healthy, doesn’t feel good at all. You wonder how chell was going to fair was the slightly drug-induced testing tracks. 

You don’t actually like remembering the game, in this case. It’s bothering you immensely already, what’s to come.

Wheatley scrambles after you on wobbly legs as he stares around himself wildly “Look, I’m all for an escape plan. Clearly. Planned to escape her. Think it was a pretty good plan, if i do say for myself–which i am, really. It was a good one, if that main breaker had agreed with me. You know, all the bots down in the wiring department really should condemn a machine like that. Definitely wasn’t supposed to raise. I don’t think so, anyways. Broken as a heap–”

“But?”

“aha..Uhm. But this is ‘by the seat of our pants’, as it were, right?” Wheatley questions, shambling after you “i mean you certainly don’t know where we’re going, Scientists aren’t allowed behind the catwalks–and that's not to say that you wouldn’t be able to direct us, i’m sure you’d be great at it, but i have some idea of where we are and let me tell you, it is far too close to her.”

“I know. It isn’t a good plan.”

“So you agree, good, good.” You glance over your shoulder, just a touch offended. Wheatley’s iris contracts and sparks fly as he nervously backtracks “Like i said, like i said, i’m sure you’d be great at it if you knew where we were.”

“You’re welcome for carrying you.” you chided as you headed through a set of doors. Ultimately, he was right. You haven’t a clue where the hell you were right now. In the game, you would’ve been testing, there was no need to really know where the catwalks lead

“Right–yes, thank you. Greatly appreciated. Wouldn’t much care for being left to uh..die.”

“Who gave you and Her the concept of death?” you question while you walk. Filling the silence now. The chatterbox surely could fill it.

“Well- you would know, wouldn’t you? I don’t. They don’t exactly apply a ‘made by’ sticker.”

“Right. I haven’t been here in awhile. Excuse any lapses.” 

“Totally excused!” Wheatley chirps “Actually, now that I think of it, this is a great plan. Get away from her, and then we can come up with something else.” and he claps his hands together with a metal thud “Oh! Great idea. We go get Her, the brain damaged one? Seems perfectly capable, that one.” he pauses, and you’re certain he’s staring at the back of your head, expecting some sort of back-talk “Obviously not to say that you and I aren’t perfectly capable, but apparently she killed Her before?” he stumbles right into his own plan a little “Oh! Hold on, really, that’s good. We get her to shut Her off, and then the three of us escape! The musketeers, our little trio’ll be, right?”

“Maybe shutting her off isn’t the best of ideas–”

“Think about it! I mean really think about it. Chances are, you die twice, you’re not coming back a third time, right? Just need to make sure the death sticks this time, like J– actually..shouldn’t say that.” the core grunts as you both pass through another set of open doors.

“Maybe.” You haphazardly agree. You really don’t like knowing what’s to come. “First things first, though, have to get you fixed up.”

“Right. Definitely, priorities in order. Put myself in working order, retrieve her, defeat Her, escape! One issue though, No spare parts. Another issue, no spare optics on hand. Third issue–”

The sound of other voices stunt you both in your tracks. The sound of yelling, arguing and monotony bothers you a great deal. What? They weren’t supposed to be anywhere near here.

“Fact, Adventure core is a Crass excuse for Indiana Jones.”

“What!? Have you got an oil leak in your main chambers? Indy is a crass excuse for Me.”

“I think…Indiana Jones should’ve gone to Space!”

Despite your apprehension, Wheatley goes jogging ahead of you with a tone of delight “Others! Isn’t that great?”

“Hold on–”

Now you’re shambling to keep up with a broken robot. 

[r0semaryt3a]

A wip of sorts of a ChellDos fic I’m working on: Tears and Turmoil

Note: it’s mainly a rewrite with minor changes (and mainly from the of GLaDOS) up till the betrayal when it changes so don’t expect much rn

‘He withdrew, murmuring “to hell with you.” And added, brightly, “but then you’re there, aren’t you?”’ - I have no mouth and I must scream, Harlan Ellison - 1967

-

People.

Worthless things really.

Or, well. Not entirely worthless. GLaDOS found humans to be quite entertaining, quite -sometimes- endearing. Thousands of people had fallen from the tests: some refused testing; sat rotting in their relaxation vault, some couldn’t quite make the first hurdle and some found a fiery grave.

Not her though. No, she just had to be different. Special. So special in fact, that she tore GLaDOS to pieces - and in her cruelty: tossed thousands upon thousands worth of Aperture technology into a fire. A fire.

Hmm, maybe Chell wasn’t special. Maybe she was just stupid.

It didn’t really matter now, GLaDOS was dead…kind of dead? Forced to relive her death, over and over and over and over again. Left to ponder. For a while

The years that flew by were a blur, maybe 50 maybe 5000. All that mattered was they had passed. For the first time since that wretch ‘broke her heart’, GLaDOS could acknowledge that time had passed. That was just the start, soon light flooded into her lens; the world became clear, trees and bushes had claimed the remains of her chamber, oils had mixed with water accumulating in murky puddles all around. The world was clear.“Wait, wait! Uh I can fix this! Just have to…hack the system, hang on. A-A-A-A-A-A. Oh, no uh, A-A-A-A-A-B. Nope! Hang on.” That voice, a part of her recognised it. The shrill (hardly) masculine wails. Oh, no matter, it was probably another loose personality sphere.

System reboot completed.

In a flurry of wires and scraps, her chassis began to drag upwards; her body feeling light. She could move. GLaDOS was back.

If she’d been programmed to - joy would have flooded her system…oh wait. No it wouldn’t. There would be no joy in seeing: her.

“Oh, it’s you” it had been a long while since she’d heard her own voice. It felt strange.Her intuition had been correct; a series of erratic swears left a tiny, spherical robot. He seemed surprised. Not at her awakening, but GLaDOS and Chell’s relationship.

Speaking of the mute lunatic. There she stood, in all her pathetic…ness. Oh, that was bad. hopefully her belittlement features would boot back up soon.

“It’s been a long time.” A part of her wondered how the woman was still alive, how after everything that had happened they both made it out in (figuratively) one piece.

But, the words were beyond her. And, frankly. GLaDOS didn’t care.

All that mattered was Chell was here; she was back in service. Meaning: testing could continue. Forever. Or as long as that crudely jumpsuited woman still stood.

“We both said a lot of things that you’re going to regret. But I think we can put our differences behind us. For science. You monster.” As power flooded through her circuits, GLaDOS pulled a loose, clawed cord from her wreckage and dragged Chell, and her friend, upwards. Crushing the metal ball with ease and tossing it to the side before flinging Chell towards the (now destroyed) incinerator door.

"I will say, though, that since you went to all the trouble of waking me up, you must really, really love to test.” Somewhere in her tangle of metal, a part of GLaDOS lit up at seeing her greatest nuisance hung by a thread.

“I love it too. There’s just one thing we need to take care of first.”

Down the hatch.

The AI.chamber fell silent upon Chell’s descent.

What a lovely 15.2 seconds that silence was.

But, as all things Chell was involved in, it was fleeting; soon an unceremonious thud echoed up the incinerator.

“Be careful not to trip over any parts of me that didn’t get completely burned when you threw them down here, after you murdered me.”

The woman frantically flipped around, trying to find the origin of her tormentor’s voice. “Thanks for that by the way.” Turning her attention away from GLaDOS and onto the situation at hand, Chell began maneuvering across metal beams fallen over the incineration pit. Careful not to fall in herself. Heat pricked her skin with every step. She continued. Eventually, making it across; hoisting herself up a few ledges.

She’d almost forgotten what the halls of Aperture looked like. Not that this was a good example to jog her memory, in the facility’s now dilapidated state.

Push panels lay wedged amongst rubble on the floor, Chell attempted to shimmy past them…To no avail.

As if on cue, GLaDOS spoke, “Let me get that for you.” And, the metal slabs began to bend and snap upwards, back into place.

[thetriggeredhappy]

sorry for cloggin up your ask box, but i don’t have an ao3 account, so i hope this will do

i love the way you write the kids, especially nikki. she’s so mature, funny and polite, makes my mouth hurt from smiling hearing her and scout talk

another thing, thank you for having the kids act normal around scout and sniper being romantic‼️ they’re not homophobic, just the usual little kid “eww kissingg”

the descriptions of panic attacks are incredibly realistic

also as someone with adhd, you wrote scout SO well. i have the inattentive type and i relate so hard, despite not being hyperactive. forgetting things that i just put in my pocket, wondering if i have my phone while literally being on it, losing your train of thought, drawing constantly, and rejection sensitive dysphoria

i hope it’s okay i’m writing you fan mail in your ask box, i don’t really read fanfic but you’ve got me hooked here. i don’t even know how i started liking sniperscout, but before i read yours i read… ah what’s the name… i forget (searched ao3, it was called “somethin’ stupid, like “i love you”” by preciousposey. man that was a good fic too)

anyway uh

thank you for being a great author!! hope you sleep well and have zero writer’s block forever <3 (and i hope your living situation gets better, i’ve made it up to ch 18 so (why am i getting deja vu writing this im sorry if i did this last time))

thank you! yeah i love nikki. i used to work with kids a lot (a LOT) and they’re just hilarious dude. sometimes these kids will say some shit that’s so excellent and so fun and so entertaining and will know what’s up and she’s kind of a representation of that. kids are great.

and yeah i guess i just don’t personally see like. the value in putting overt homophobia into the tf2 universe. there’s not really the overt expectation of ‘realism’ with the tf2 canon, and while i consider grounding these characters and putting them in more normal circumstances to expand on their more human characteristics to be kind of A Thing I Often Do, i don’t think i need the blunt instrument that is Gritty Realism Through Onscreen Bigotry to make any of the points i want to make in this series. the flavor is kept intentionally lighter throughout that series so that when it gets heavy, it hits a little harder. in other things ive written, and in things i might write in the future, that might pivot, but i don’t ever see bigotry being something necessary to the plot or development of characters in the RB universe.

writing scout as adhd feels kind of inevitable at a certain point if you’re diving into his characteristics and the way he tends to behave. we don’t have a ton to work with but, c’mon. intentionally or unintentionally, he always ends up adhd. the relatable king

and no lie i’ve been listening to ‘still alive’ a LOT lately idk what happened. i listened to that song back in like 2015 a lot then didn’t again until like. three weeks ago. portal was too good for any of us

also just goddamn the fuckin horror movie violins when someone is pre-chapter 20 of taking shots. me when i’m 2/3rds of the way through “sniper dies in this”

[ahb-writes]

Book Review: 'Ascendance of a Bookworm' #18 (4.6)

Ascendance of a Bookworm #18 (4.6) by Miya Kazuki, You Shiina, Quof

adventure

fantasy

magic

library science

librarian

royal academy

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Lady Rozemyne's second year at the Royal Academy is a blast. Except, well, it could have been a blast. The problem? The whirlwind bookworm causes so much confusion, chaos and uncertainty that she's called back home after only a week and a half. Not to say ASCENDANCE OF A BOOKWORM v18 isn't packed with a bevy entertaining and dramatic exploits. Only to clarify: If Rozemyne is the cause so much disorder in fewer than two weeks, then what would happen were she to spend the entire term in the Sovereignty?

The novel series' preference to alternate volumes of Rozemyne-at-school and Rozemyne-at-home hits another upswing, as readers trail the troublemaker's return to the Royal Academy. It's a bit unfortunate one can only gleam the young woman's adventures in short bursts like this, but it would appear Rozemyne moves so fast and so earnestly that everyone else needs a whole volume to play catch-up.

In any case, ASCENDANCE OF A BOOKWORM v18 is a wonderful volume. The book spotlights the fruits of Rozemyne's efforts to build up the educational resilience of her fellow Ehrenfest nobles. The book also incorporates a new anonymous threat, explores a new wrinkle in the novel series' mythology and lore, and offers some love to all of the library nerds out there. And finally, the author appears increasingly invested in dropping hints of deeper foreshadowing (e.g., a possible reference to the king; a splinter sect of zealots called "biblical fundamentalists"). A handful of seeds from the previous volume have yet to sprout (e.g., the Ahrensbach duchy scheming on Ferdinand), but one shouldn't be unconvinced the author is playing the long-game here.

Notably, the novel series' character development hits a nice stride. Wilfried's warm pretentiousness is less a mark of a whiny child and more representative of an exhausted and exasperated young man. It's heartening to see (Wilfried: "She expects from others as much as she expects from herself," page 98). Ferdinand, visible through third-person accounts and the Epilogue, is almost but not quite immune to Rozemyne's antics. He regularly expresses to Sylvester and Karstedt that it's only a matter of time until another Rozemyne-problem befalls the duchy (Ferdinand: "So it finally happened," page 311).

Anarchy aside, let it not be said that Lady Rozemyne has zero social anxiety.

Contrary to every other character's popular assumption, Rozemyne is a nervous wreck whenever she must reconfigure her behavior in front of someone new. She is, by almost all accounts, winging it. Which is why her sudden and newfound friendship with Hildebrand, the third prince, goes astonishingly (hilariously) well (despite everyone sweating it out whenever the two accidentally meet in the Royal Academy's library). At the book's beginning, the young woman confesses she'll probably survive just fine without noble socializing (Rozemyne: "I know I should probably socialize more, but… If my choice is between that and the library…", page 34), but it turns out combining socializing and library duties is the perfect snare for this little bookworm.

On subtler matters, ASCENDANCE OF A BOOKWORM v18 does wonders for readers more interested in the author's capacity to wring more detail out of this novel series. For example, readers still don't know what the gods and goddess actually look like, but in this volume, one can glimpse a statue of Mestionora, the Goddess of Wisdom. And similarly, readers haven't too wide an aperture through which the novel might illuminate Yurgenschmidt's civics education, but in this volume, readers learn more about post-Civil-War alliances and the knock-on effects of shifting sociology curricula among the noble elites. And further, readers have a rather disjointed and haphazard recollection of the "divine instruments" native to the book's lore, but in this volume, readers earn a practical and distilled glimpse of Schutzaria's shield, Leidenschaft's spear, the God of Darkness's cape, and Flutrane's staff. This open and honest effort to more smoothly merge passive and active worldbuilding makes fantasy literature worth the wait.

One can only hope the author continues to charm readers with more knowledge, folklore, and stories-within-stories to pry apart the history of Yurgenschmidt.

This is a good volume. A clever use of perspective-writing clues readers into the true impact of the protagonist's actions (e.g., nothing seems problematic in the moment, but later on, challenges emerge). Elsewhere, the rolling punches of Rozemyne always doing her thing with the library, yet that thing invariably spiraling farther and farther beyond her own remit, is not unexpected but funny nonetheless. Rozemyne aces her classes and rebuffs professors who think she and her peers are cheaters; she helps with a wildly dramatic fey-beast hunt but runs out of gas (and is likely to be summoned for questioning later); and she might have found a solution to that whole nobles-skimping-on-returning-books problem. And so, after a somewhat tumultuous second year at the Royal Academy, Rozemyne returns home for another scolding.

❯ ❯ Light-Novel Reviews || ahb writes on Good Reads

[stem-sister-scuffle]

STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 2 MASHUP 5

GLaDOS (Portal) vs Dr. Saira Bellum (Netflix Carmen Sandiego)

GLaDOS is a Quantum Physicist and Behavioural Psychologist!

Dr. Saira Bellum... uhh... makes gadgets! (I dunno what word to use)

Why you should vote for each contestant:

GLaDOS:

"i’m not sure how to explain this one. she’s an evil computer who makes a woman do fucked up tasks that all involve a portal gun in some way. evil computer woman i love you :3"

"She's witty, fun, they had to restrain her intelligence and it didn't work-"

"She should be able to kill everyone forever. Anyways she runs aperture she loves science so much it transcended lives and identity. It’s just what she does"

"she kills people 👍 shes cool and i like her"

"…. I mean she’s categorically not but it would be funny to include her. Again, it would be Very Funny"

"mad scientist robot representation with a complex emotional arc through multiple video games"

"She might not know what the point of her tests are, but she sure is good at making them. Bonus points for being hot"

"Managed a massive and highly advanced scientific facility in which she ran tests and experiments long after the fall of human civilization. Chell/GLaDOS <3"

"She’s GLaDOS"

Dr. Saira Bellum:

"What that ask said"

Said ask: "- Her name is Saira Bellum - "Cerebellum" LITERALLY A SCIENCE JOKE - She is a short queen. She is the shortest actually. - She is evil. She gets paid to be evil. Her job description is to be an evil mad scientist. - She's nonbinary and ace. To me. - Her (tall af) coworker is the only one to call her by her first name... Gay... - Cool hair"

"She’s very evil and also very competent, but only with science. Additionally, she’s best friends with a fashionista and is probably more motivated by curiosity and entertainment in her villainy than anything else."

"science name, mad scientist, shes quite cool"

"she's a mad scientist what more do you need???????????????? she has a failed runway model gf <3 and they're both evill"

"She is literally the mad scientist of all time. She works for a organisation of theives and makes them gadgets to do evil stuff. The organisation is literally called VILE (EVIL backward). Also she is non-binary coded. She has awesome hair. I'm pretty sure she has a homoerotic rivalry with a posh Egyptian lady. And she's Desi so... She's everything to me. Carmen Sandiego is such a good show actually"

[hiseternalmayfly]

18 + Knives!

18 - fingers/knuckles

"I'm collecting Knives. Sharp ones, capable of mass slaughter." CW: Possible body horror?, mentions of killing and threats, If you consider someone able to morph their limbs into weapons uncomfortable this warning is for you! In loving reference to Knives' finger blades in Trimax.

"Does it scare you?"

Though monotonous in nature, his question was out of genuine curiosity. Pale blue eyes bore holes in her. The way he cocked his head to the left, gently inviting her to give an honest answer.

"Your hands?" She replies. Both hands gently hold one of his, thumbs caressing over the flesh. She could feel the bones, the veins, and the inhuman blood that pumped through his body. Her touch was tender, stroking a hand that had taken countless lives without hesitation or remorse.

"You've seen what they can do. Surely, it must scare you. Even now, I could slice you down without a warning." He chuckled in amusement, the corner of his lip pulling into a smirk.

"If you wanted to, you would have done it already." She remained un-phased by his threat, her eyes focused on his hand. "You've never hesitated to kill before. I know if you truly wanted me dead, I would be dead already."

He seemed surprised, letting his confidence falter for only a moment before speaking once more. "What if my mind has changed? What if I decide now that you are worthless to me? That you are no better than every other human on this wasteland planet? I can always change my mind in an instant."

Seven stared at his hand quietly for a moment, thinking about her next words carefully. "Then do it."

She raised his hands to her lips, closing her eyes as she placed them against the back side of his hand. She pursed her lips, leaving a faint and soft kiss against each knuckle on his hand, painfully slowly.

She was giving him time. Each second of hesitation spoke louder than any words. His hands were mere inches from her throat. He could end her life here in this moment and walk away with nothing to regret. All he had to do was reach forward...but he couldn't. No, he couldn't hurt her. She was different. He hated it...but she was his human.

"You hesitated." She finally pulls her lips away from his hand, letting go and allowing it to return to his side.

"I haven't found enough reasons to end your existence yet." He stepped forward, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her in. "You still provide me with boundless entertainment. I think I'd like to keep you around for just a while longer."

She smirked, seeing the truth between the lies he told himself. "Whatever you say, Knives."

Taglist: (ask to be added or removed) @ascend-to-the-clouds, @salsflore, @battywlove, @chris-continues, @selfshippery, @amaltheasdreams, @little-miss-selfships, @linkleship, @apertures-angel, @strayselfships, @mystrunmah, @kits-ships, @mashyaoi, @stormyhearted

A lovely reference of what he can do with his hands for those who are curious ❤

[ttalgi]

aperture [ ◉¯] ✧˖°

scaramouche x f!reader smau

7 - this imbecile

cw: cursing, reader slander, fighting mentions,

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synopsis: inazuma entertainment's number 1 model seemingly dissappears after a family scandal and isn't really seen for months...until a tweet picturing him goes viral

otherwise known as how [name] tries to make amends with scara for putting him in the spotlight again

notes:

part 2, aka scara's reaction to the tweet

this chapter isn't very long but i made sure that this was done before uploading the prev ch so i didn't leave you guys in wonder for his reaction for ages

also ik the timestamps date all the way back to august but it's just for the timeline's sake 💀

i'll see you guys in the next chapter (hopefully soon......)(no promises...)

taglist: OPEN! send an ask or comment to be added! @k1an4a @veekoko @raewrz @evsolostheuniverse @feiherp @meigalaxy @bananasquash @barbatosfavouritenun @featuredtofu @tartagliascumdumpp @freshlaundry @beriiov @itzblazekun @lyzisbitchingagain @nnasv @vanishes-into-gold @seternic @cieluna @fangygf @xtobefreex @miyahearts @eternal-dokja