#instantaneous acceleration

[er-cryptid]

Acceleration

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[thedbahub]

Enhancing Database Resilience with SQL Server 2022 ADR Improvements

SQL Server 2022 has brought significant enhancements to Accelerated Database Recovery (ADR), a feature first introduced in SQL Server 2019 aimed at improving database availability and scalability. ADR’s primary goal is to reduce the time it takes for a database to recover after a restart and to make transaction rollback instant, regardless of the transaction’s size or duration. In this article,…

[occamstfs]

Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

The foreign language requirements of any American high school are guaranteed to be lackluster. It is no wonder that a nation so fixed on instilling American and English supremacy was so wont to neglect the study of foreign languages and culture. For his part Claude had just about forgotten all the Spanish that he learned not too many years ago. At the present moment he is browsing the web looking for some way to reclaim and improve on his meager knowledge. Despite his desire however, he is shockingly unwilling to do much at all to pursue this end.

Rather than the tried and true method of studying each day Claude is instead looking for not only the easy way, but an instantaneous way to regain his lost knowledge. This is obviously a beyond foolish endeavor, though having long heard tales of people waking up speaking in languages they hadn’t learned he was deep in rabbit holes online scouring for a ticket to bilingualism. Unwilling to admit that they were just old wives’ tales or shitposts he clicks link after link sure the next one will lead to some fruition.

Deep in websites he certainly should not be visiting without a firewall he actually stumbles on a thread in Spanish. Hastily translating the page through Google it promises the fluency of a native speaker through a single click. Claude scratches his cheek wondering whether or not to go through with it, could be malware, probably just a link to a meme or the like. He looks at the link in blue text, it’s just a name: Carlos Herrero. With little further ado Claude decides fuck it what’s the worst that could happen and clicks the name in blue.

The lights in his room flicker as his hand holding his mouse is promptly shocked. He pushes away from his desk shaking his hand in pain as suddenly there is a chill in the air. He shivers as he hears a voice, deep and unknown, whispering in his ear. “Hola hola hola mi perrito.” Claude shakes his head feeling the tickle of a beard on his cheek and swats at the air. “Ay! Lo siento, ah- ¿cuál es su nombre? Claude ¿Verdad? ¿Me entiendes?” (Ah! Sorry, uh- What is your name? Claude, is it? Can you understand me?) 

Claude looks around his room in shock at this mysterious voice, immediately assuming he’s lost his mind. He shakes his head trying to wake up or come to his senses, after a few shakes he feels a cold powerful hand grasp his jaw. He hears the voice continue to speak in words he couldn’t understand and did his best not to process lest it worsen the state of his mind. His eyes widen in shock as he stares into the space, feeling the skin on his face contort in response to a hand that is not there. He feels the grip tighten and his breathing  accelerates as he starts to hyperventilate.

As if in response to his fear the hand disappears from his face and he feels a heavy arm around his shoulder. “¿No querías saber español?” (Do you not want to know Spanish?) Claude’s ears pick up as he hears Spanish he can just about recall. In doing so his brain immediately reprocessed the preceding events in order to maintain any semblance of sanity. The link must have worked! This is just a dream or something that will end with him knowing Spanish, just like a video game. He just needs to play along until he wakes up. Neglecting how real everything clearly is he addresses the voice, willing himself to believe whatever it is that it’s not malevolent. “Okay, uh I’m down for whatever, thanks for your help, uh, ghost?”

“De Nada, Claudio.” With this Claude’s visions flicker as the chill in the air fills him. He gasps and sees his breath condensate as every inch of his body is ice cold. Claude falls out of his chair and scratches at himself, instinctively trying to claw something out of his body. He rolls onto his hands and convulses, retching as if trying to throw something up. As the seconds pass he feels his body rapidly warm from the bitter freeze, unsure if this is a mirage of heat like the comfort one feels in the throes of hypothermia he paws at his chest.

Before finding confirmation in any way Claude hears the alluring whispers once more, though this time not tickling his ear. Rather it is now a voice within his own head. “Testing testing, ah would you look at that. Now I’m speaking a language you can understand huh? Hahah!” Claude’s brow furrows as he wipes spit from his mouth. This was not the easy nap and wake up anew process that he was promised. As if it had access to his thoughts the voice responds to this. “Ah sorry if I misled you little guy, this is going to be a bit of work. Trust though! It will certainly be easier and quicker than wasting your time studying!” Claude rolls his eyes before remembering since this is probably a dream that at the very least in reality this will be over briefly. 

Claude then tilts his head and asks out loud to the voice in his head, “Why are you speaking in English now?” It sounds just like the one he heard earlier, if not a little more playful as it responds, “Ahh language processors, something or other- Don’t worry your little head about it, in time we both will be thinking in Espanol ya? In the meantime why not jumpstart it!” Claude purses his lips trying to find the inscrutable voice’s intentions as he does so the heat in his body begins to convert to energy.

He suddenly feels as if he’s had enough caffeine to power a body three times his size. He feels every muscle in his body demand attention and exercise as his hands start to shake. “Oh would you look at that! If it’s any help any time I used to get excited or stressed I’d always hit the gym, ya dig?” Already motioning to get changed for the gym to blow off some of this energy Claude pauses to once more try and understand the implications of the voice’s statement. “Sorry, what do you mean you used to?” 

There is then a jarring silence in his mind. Claude stands, gym clothes in hand, without a thought in his mind before the voice replies trying its best to disarm him despite its deep gruff tone, “Ah well, you know how these things go, it’s just dream logic right? This is all lucid dream, the quicker you stop questioning the sooner you’ll be a pro.” He feels a vein of chill air dash through his mind once more and he nods in agreement. His eyes lose their sharpness as he decides to just listen, throwing on some clothes and heading out.

Heeding the voice he endeavors not to question his circumstances. He gets in his car and does not wonder why, if he is truly dreaming, that he did not just poof over. Feeling his heart start to beat quickly in his chest, in response to anxiety in his chest or to the energy only continuing to course through his veins he is not sure. He looks in his rearview mirror to calm himself and sees the same reflection he always has. Claude smiles at himself seeing at least his appearance is static in this dreadful dream and heads in to get this over with, the voice in his cheering him on as he makes his way in. Increasing in fervor and volume with each step towards the door.

Once inside he Claude is shocked as the voice suddenly drops out of his head leaving him once more with the harsh silence of but his own thoughts. After having such a loud visitor in his mind he is almost uncomfortable with the feeling. Stepping up to the counter to check in he greets the receptionist, “Heyo! It’s Claudio hermano!” The receptionist tilts his head as for a second it’s almost like two voices came from the man in front of him. Claude looks down at himself and clears his throat before trying again, “Lo, Urgh, Sorry about that, Um It’s Claude Smith.”

The receptionist checks him in and Claude goes off to stretch. He doesn’t usually spend much time at the gym, just enough to stay thin. But something inside him tells him that today will be different. Something inside him. His head twitches to the side as the idea washes across his mind. Looking around the room to ensure he’s alone he tries talking to the voice, doing so he does not notice that his pitch has lowered, “Hey uh, I know you told me not to ask questions. But did you make me call myself Claudio earlier?” Having paused his stretches he feels a burning in his arms and legs demanding they keep moving. Obeying the pain, his lips quiver as if he’s about to speak and the voice responds, “Ay ¿Crees? (You think so?)Es just a slip of the tongue ya?”

Claude continues stretching carefully, taking deep breaths to assuage the anxiety building in his chest. He is facing away from the wall of mirrors, unintentionally or through some subtle manipulation. Otherwise he may notice as his hair slowly begins to darken to a deep shade of brown. The blonde locks he has always been proud of maintain their length as they darken unnaturally. The thought pops into his head that he would look good with brown hair si? He shakes it away as soon as it appears though, biting his lip to avoid voicing his concern at how much power this “voice” has over him.

Trying to center himself he closes his eyes as he continues to stretch. The companion in his mind is thankfully quiet as he pushes away the discomfort at the silence and instead appreciates the freedom. Little does he know the presence is simply acting on him in other avenues as he stretches. Claude smiles as he feels the burning relief of his stretches, grunting quietly enough that he notices not how his voice has continued to deepen, inching closer to the voice that is not his own. 

The pleasant burn of his legs as he stretches them becomes almost intoxicating as he leans against the mirrored wall. Were his eyes open he would see his calves begin to grow beyond those that he wakes up to every morning. They begin to bulge larger and longer as he extends them. Muscle the size of a baseball forces its way onto them as he stands smiling dumbly. His thighs then stain larger to match pace as they expand to hold the weight of someone a foot taller than he. The soothing burn of stretching hides the soreness that should be apparent and Claude begins to sweat as if he has been heartily working out for some time now.

Not to be outdone there is a whisper in his head that he should stretch his arms as well. Without a further thought, almost without his mind even sending the order to do so, his arms are out in front of him. Each second his arms lie extended they stretch further out from his torso. Claude motions to stretch his shoulders, wrapping one arm around the other, his biceps rub against each other as he squeezes his arm tight to his chest. His arms begin to show a bulge of muscle as he stands there biting his lip at the pleasure being wrought upon him through simple stretching.

Finally he raises his arms above his head to stretch his meager chest, struggling to do so as his larger muscles have begun to impede his dexterity. With his arms in the air and his pits exposed he notices that something has begun to stink up the locker room he’s been stretching in. Claude opens his eyes looking for the assailant, to no avail. He turns his head to the side thoughtlessly putting his nose in his pit, finding the scent closer he takes a deep breath before finding himself starting to chub at the scent. The voice in his head laughs, “¡Jajaja! ¡Nice brazos (arms) perrito! ¿A ti también te gusta mi olor, eh?” (You like my smell as well huh?)

Despite his best efforts at centering himself during his stretches, he is once more consumed with anxiety. He looks down at his body that he knows should be petite but instead finds one that does not go two days without hitting el gimnasio. He flinches as his mind automatically went for the word in Spanish. Wait, did the voice in his head just say his smell!? He sniffs the air and a thought forces itself to the front of his mind, Well this is what I wanted wasn’t it? His ears ring as he is not sure if those are his thoughts or ones implanted by whatever monster is doing this to him.

Claude feels an itch on his hand and he looks down to see the hand that clicked that link some time ago as it begins to darken. He sees a rich tan begin to spread up his suddenly muscular arm as veins throb down it aiming to increase the mass. “Q- What es, happening!?” Claude turns to look in the mirror and finds the tan racing across his body. He sees the patches of his unmistakably white skin tone become naturally sunkissed as his eyes widen in shock. He freezes up and the voice in his head takes advantage and tries to seize control outright, flexing his arm and revealing the thin patch of blonde hair in his pit as it grows dark as the hair on his head and thickens beyond the pale. The voice speaks in his mind deeper and stronger than ever as he begins to outright vie for control, “Tranquilo Claudio. (Chill out Claudio.) Let us see what I can do jaja!”

It takes a bit of concerted effort but the voice, who outs himself unsurprisingly as Carlos himself, step by step forces Claude’s body across the room in his catatonia. Claude feels a smirk on his face as Carlos positions him at the bench press. He clumsily lays back on the bench before checking the weights. Looks like some cabrón left his weights on the bar, though actually it's fortunate as Carlos doubts he has the ability to do such complex motor functions as he feels Claude start to wake from his stupor.

Carlos feels an itch on Claude’s face and he begins to smirk as he feels facial hair begin to grow, “Ay he might have cojones yet jaja!” Claude feels his mouth move of its own accord and finally notices that his voice has lowered considerably and he feels his body struggle as he tries to gasp as hears it develop a deep accent.

Before Claude can wrestle control back Carlos grabs for the bar and starts to do a rep. He grunts as he realizes this body is simply not strong enough at the moment to manage the weight that was left on the rack. As the pole is just about to pin him however Claude senses the peril and both minds in the body force the bar up. “¡Bien Claudio! Let’s see what we can do juntamente si?” (together yes?) Claude tries to grunt out a protestation but is suddenly racked with pain as his body must grow larger to force the bar up.

Both men feel as weight begins to pile onto the twink’s only recently muscled body. Claude feels as pecs develop on his chest, totally ripping the tank top that had grown tight while stretching. Carlos feels as his biceps surge larger than the thighs this weak body had not two hours ago. The expression on his face flickers between ecstasy and concern as he lies on the bench doing repetitions as his core strengthens and puts on mass.

After his chest and arms grow large enough to send existential fear into Claude’s mind and a hungry lust for more into Carlos’ balls, Claude stumbles off the bench and falls to the floor, letting the weights crash next to him. He feels pin pricks as tattoos begin to stain his tanned skin and he cries out in his changed voice, “No! Este es- This isn’t right!” with each word his voice cracks deeper and the English words become a tad more difficult to maneuver his mouth around. Without a beat, Carlos immediately takes control of his mouth and responds as his voice finishes changing to match the one in his head. “Ah, ahí estás equivocado amigo. Esto es perfección.” (Ah, there you are wrong friend. This is perfection)

Claude stands to stare in the mirror watching sweat trail down his body and ink rise in his skin. He looks at his chin as a beard begins to shadow his face. He sees his eyes as they flicker and begin to darken to a deep cacao brown. His lip quivers as if he is about to cry before without any input from him it turns to a sneer as he feels Carlos chastise him without words. Claude feels a pit in his chest as not only does he not need to hear them, he begins to feel the disdain himself. As if the will of Carlos was starting to become his own.

This causes a surge in his crotch as he feels in that regard Carlos has already wrestled full control. He feels his balls that are not his begin to grow and demand attention. They feel full and needy as pre begins to leak out of his growing erection. That happens anytime he goes to the gym si? As his eyes shift down to see his bulge make itself known his facial hair expands and his pubes begin to crest above his waistline. The small bush of pit hair begins to grow into a jungle as his balls work overtime to produce testosterone to power his poderoso body.

Feeling the hormones from Carlos’ balls pump through his veins Claude realizes what a losing battle he faces. He feels his thoughts begin to mingle with the man he foolishly allowed into his body as he begins to feel himself overwhelmed with the pressure and lust issuing forth from his crotch. He feels his fluency in English begin to wane as Carlos begins to overpower every aspect of his personality. Claude continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror and the anxiety and fear rapidly dissipate as he enjoys the power that he wields. “¡Dios estoy tan chacondo!” (God I’m so Horny) The two men voice as one, his voice reverberating through his chest as he feels power continue to surge through him.

Claude watches as his body flexes itself in the mirror without a single thought or any input from him. Not that he minds, it’s doing exactly what he would be doing anyway si? He smirks seeing his cock bob up and down as he struts across the gym floor. Every thought in his head is in fluent Spanish as he feels his identity fully mingle with Carlos’ as they truly become one. Despite this originally being Claude’s body he feels himself shrink and mold as he becomes an aspect of Carlos’ personality. Every action, every word, every movement will be crafted by the two of them. Though altogether Claude will just about always find himself thinking just as Carlos does, and both minds will more often than not be ruled by the powerful hormones coming from below.

“Debería haber preguntado sobre los términos y condiciones, Hermano.” (Should’ve asked for the terms and conditions bro.) He thinks to himself as he makes his way to the gym’s showers to pump one out. Over time even Carlos would forget that this has not always been his body. Each day he would continue to make it his own, increasing his mass and power. Outgrowing a wardrobe of clothes he would never be caught dead wearing. It did not take long at all to establish his supremacy as Carlos Herrero. Though there was some inherent difficulty navigating this land only knowing Spanish, Carlos managed well enough, confident that if needed he could perhaps let his passenger breathe enough to regain some English. At this point however it’s hard to say if any remnants of Claude remain, and moreover if he would even desire to emerge back into his own mind, it is of course much easier to simply indulge in the ceaseless pleasure he has found for himself within Carlos’ mind.

[bountycancelled]

decisions

luke castellan x child of hecate!reader

requested: yep! I hope you like it anon

warnings: allusions about death, but no character dies.

content: yall, it's 1 am rn, and I just wanna go to sleep. it's unedited and nothing bad happens I promise. I'll do a proper content thingy in the morning. pls enjoy while I pass out.

"you know those kids are probably gonna have nightmares for at least a week, right?"

you didn't need to turn to know who was behind you as you leaned against a tree trunk, toying with a twig in your hands. Luke castellan seemed to have an affinity for interrupting you anytime you found solace in being alone. you didnt know how he just... knew, when and where to find you during times like these, but he always did. you found yourself minding his presence less and less as time when on.

"they should consider themselves lucky, I was debating whether or not I should just summon a ghost for them tonight, but I figured they couldn't handle it, and this camp doesn't have any trauma counselling so." the leaves on the twig in your hand withered at an accelerated place in your hands, and a part of you felt bad. you usually kept your distance from anything living since you knew your touch had the possibility of having an adverse, and sometimes deadly affect, but tonight was just one of those nights.

Luke chuckled at your words, plucking one of the now wilted leaves from the twig in your grasp as he spoke up once more. "you know, I actually want you to help me with something, if you don't mind. I need help deciding whether or not I should do something."

you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look. "you know I can't make decisions for you. I don't have the ability to know what consequences you'll have to deal with."

"isn't hacate the goddess of crossroads?" Luke countered, a small smirk on his face. you knew that he was only pestering you because he thought it was funny that you always needed to explain your abilities and your godparent to people, but you couldn't just keep silent at his bait nonetheless.

"that doesn't make me some kind of fortune teller, I can't decide for you which direction to go to when you reach a fork on the path. I just have a vague understanding over what you're currently debating if you should do."

"okay okay, no fortune telling. but can you at least point me in the right direction? it doesn't matter how vague." he asked, and you tilted your head to stare up at the starry sky, because you knew that even in the dark, Luke could convince you to help him with nothing but a pleading glint in his deep eyes.

he didn't relent at tour silence or your avoidance of his gaze, uttering a small "please?" which finally broke your resolve.

you took a deep breath, finally looking at him once again, your face deep in concentration. "not a guide either. but I get the sense that... if you don't do what you're thinking of doing, you'll regret it." you felt a bit lightheaded afterwards, but the tree you were leaning against was enough security for you.

Luke on the other hand didnt seem to think so, showcased by how his hands immediately went to your shoulders in an effort to keep you up, while also unintentionally coming closer. a bit too close for comfort, but you were too foggy for the lack of distance to hit you yet.

he nodded at your advice, biting his lip before speaking once again, not missing the way your eyes flicked towards his lips and then back to his eyes, almost instantaneously.

"then I'll just go ahead and say it, I like you. a lot." he had expected a few different reactions, you immediately jumping into his arms and accepting his confession (his personal favourite hypothesis), you shyly stating that you felt the same way, you being shocked that he had feelings for you at all (he liked to believe that he wasn't entirely obvious) but he didn't expect what you did next.

instead, you blew air from your nose, giving him a look he couldn't quite place. "you have horrible taste. and you're also delusional. we've had maybe 4 conversations the entire we've known each other, and you like me?" you rolled your eyes, shaking your head at the words you were about to utter. "but I guess that makes me delusional too, because I feel the same way."

he pouted at your words, feigning hurt with a hand placed on his chest. "you wound me. if I had known you were gonna be this mean... I would've confessed sooner." he added with a slight smirk, trailing his other hand from your shoulder down to your waist, leaning his face towards yours.

you were quick to shut down his advance, maneuvering your way out of his hold. "one thing you're gonna need to get used to, castellan. no touching. at all. at least, not until I'm sure I can control my ability. you have a goodnight though." you called out as you walked away from a now needy Luke, leaving him leaning against the tree.

he quickly followed after you, trying to plead his case. "no touching? that's insane, how could I not touch you? I'm not afraid of death, especially if it comes from my hands on your body, or vice versa. I'll happily forfeit my life for a kiss. come on, I'm fine with just a peck. actually, no. I take that back. if I'm gonna die, we need to make out before I go."

you simply shook your head, reiterating your rule, unable to stop a grin from forming on your face. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a serious look in your eyes. "... okay. but just a peck. im serious."

it was not just a peck. but luckily, Luke made it out alive. (though, he seriously wouldn't have minded if he didn't.)

[rohvee]

Whoops meant to share this for WIP Wednesday here too yesterday! Some backstory/setup for my Death Stranding AU Jayvik fic 🖤

—

“How is the project going?”

Jayce hesitated for a moment.

Mel never let up about the project. Of course, she didn’t. It was the project of the century. A breakthrough that could reshape civilization—if Jayce could make it work. Another tool in the fight against the Death Stranding.

Long before Jayce was born, Runeterra was a very different place. No one knew what triggered them, but the first explosions—the voidouts, they called them—were unlike anything the world had seen. Detonations more powerful than nuclear blasts shattered the land, swallowing entire regions in moments.

But the aftermath was worse.

They called it the Death Stranding.

The voidouts tore through the boundary between the realms of life and death. And through the cracks, things slipped in. Spirits, creatures, substances that defied natural law. The rain itself could kill now, accelerating time with every drop. Stepping outside unprotected was suicide. The few remaining colonies, scattered across the ruins, were isolated, disconnected.

That was where porters came in. A lifeline. Brave souls hauling vital supplies across the hostile land, linking the last remnants of civilization. Trade was brokered. Humanity adapted. Rebuilt.

But the disconnect remained. The life of a porter was perilous, and trade was agonizingly slow.

That was what Jayce was trying to fix, and the key to it all was chiralium.

A substance originating from the world of the dead, chiralium lingered here as dust in the atmosphere, as jagged hand-shaped crystal formations jutting from the earth. It ignored time, existed outside of it. Its properties were nothing short of magical.

So far, it had been harnessed to make objects levitate, to create self-healing materials, and most importantly, to enable the instantaneous mass transfer of data, sending it through the timeless realm of the Beach; the world of the dead. This enabled them to connect communities in a new way. Sharing information—blueprints, crucial knowledge, culture.

But data was all they could send, for now. Nothing real. Nothing with a soul.

That was Jayce’s big project—figuring out how to harness chiralium to send physical materials instantaneously from one place to another, crossing through the Beach.

It would revolutionize trade. It would save lives. It would connect the world.

“It's not… going great,” Jayce admitted with a wince, his eyes flicking to the tablet in front of him. His calculations sprawled across the screen in increasingly erratic handwriting, a visual representation of his fraying patience. “I can’t even get a working theory down, never mind how to actually implement it.”

Mel didn’t respond immediately. She simply stood there, gaze drifting to the floor, thoughtful in that measured way of hers. Then, with a quiet sigh, she reached up and unclasped the sides of her mask.

The golden mask slipped away, unveiling the sharp contours beneath—the cut of her cheekbones, the golden glint of subdermal implants catching in the dim lab light. She was, in every sense, beautiful. A beauty few were ever granted the privilege to see. A beauty Jayce had once known intimately.

She set the mask down on a nearby workbench and leaned against it, crossing her arms. “Jayce, what do you think about bringing on another person?”

His brows furrowed. “Like… a partner?”

“Yes.”

Jayce frowned. “That’s not necessary. I’ll get there eventually, I just need more time—”

“Things are… strained, Jayce.” Mel exhaled, glancing away. “I can’t tell you much, but the ability to send materials through the Beach would loosen tight cords significantly.”

“And it’ll happen, I just—”

“We found someone.” She met his gaze then, unwavering. “An evo-devo biologist in Zaun.”

Jayce blinked. “Evo-devo—? Mel, this is physics. I don’t need a biologist.”

“He’s an engineer and physicist as well, like you. Perhaps a fresh perspective would help.”

His jaw clenched. Irritation curled hot in his gut, and he tapped his fingers against the desk in agitation. “I don’t need him. Really. I’m on the verge, I know it. I don’t need someone coming in and making a mess of things.”

“That’s too bad.”

“No, it’s fine, actually—”

“Because he’s already on his way.”

Jayce blinked. Alarm spiked through his exhaustion. He pushed himself up from his chair. “You sent for this random biologist to cross through BT territory without even asking me if I wanted this?”

Mel gazed at him neutrally. “I don’t care what you want, Jayce. I strongly feel that this is something you need.”

His hands curled into fists. “You can’t just—!”

“I can.”

A low, guttural sound tore from Jayce’s throat—something between a scoff and a snarl. He turned sharply, raking a hand through his hair, pacing in tight, agitated strides.

The thought of someone else—some outsider—intruding on his project made his skin itch. This wasn’t just research; it was his baby. It was the culmination of a lifetime of work, dedication, obsession. No one understood chiralium like he did. No one had pushed the boundaries of its potential further. He didn’t need someone stumbling in, making reckless assumptions, forcing him to waste time explaining what he already knew wouldn’t work.

And a biologist?

What the hell did he need a biologist for?

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Mel sighed, retrieving her mask as she straightened. She slipped it back into place, golden metal once again obscuring half her face. “Just give him a chance when he gets here.”

Jayce didn’t respond. Didn’t turn to look at her. His jaw clenched, but he knew arguing was pointless. Mel had made up her mind. There was no changing it. With a long, exhausted sigh, he let himself sink back into his chair, fingers pressing against his temples.

Mel took that as her cue to leave. She turned smoothly, heading for the door. As she approached, it hissed open, revealing Sky lingering in the hall, looking anxious.

Jayce finally spoke, voice low. “What’s his name?”

Mel paused, glancing over her shoulder. Her lips quirked in a small smile.

“It’s Viktor.”

[seat-safety-switch]

I don't think I'm alone in hating helicopters. Unlike other kinds of vehicles, there is no direct animal comparison to the helicopter. Planes? Birds. Cars? Cats or something, I guess. Tanks? Uhhh different kind of cat. Hot air balloon? Okay, now you're just trying some shit, but – jellyfish, how's that? Not so smart now, are you?

All throughout our history, mankind has drawn inspiration from the animal kingdom in order to engineer things. It's very reliable. After all, it's been around for millions of years without a single warranty claim. Once in awhile, though, someone gets a little clever and tries to exploit the laws of physics to do something we don't see in nature. Case in point: helicopters.

Have you ever wondered why otherwise competent pilots have so many horrifying crashes in helicopters? And I'm not even talking the usual ones, like smoking a building or getting tangled up in power lines. Some snot-nosed kid with bottle rockets on the back of his BMX could do those. I'm talking full-on, uncontrollable auto-rotation, Jesus-nut-fell-off-the-rotors, nothing you can do but wait to die crashes. The kind of stuff that scares the folks that operate them. It's because helicopters are an affront to proud Mother Nature herself.

Helicopters aren't just bad on one axis: they're loud, they're obnoxious, and nobody really knows how to fly one. If I put your ass in a Boeing right now, you'd probably be able to keep it in the air for a half-hour or so while an adult tells you what button to make it land. Helicopter? There's no chance. You'd flip it upside down, it would enter an unrecoverable state, and we'd both be sausage patties on the freeway. Because it has not crossed paths with our evolution to date, we have no natural intuition for this hostile alien artifact.

Sure, there's lots of other things where we've thumbed our nose at her, too. Particle accelerators, like the one that pushed us into this alternate timeline. Computers, which allow horrifying thoughts to be beamed instantaneously to billions of receptive minds. PTFE, which makes pans non-stick for about a week or two but will kill your parrot. None of these things are as disturbing or as vicious as the not-so-humble helicopter. So let's smash them all, and then put the engines in our hot rods.

[jam3sacaster]

“You deserve a real man.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Hopelessly convinced you’re destined to be alone, Rupert shows you that you couldn’t be further from the truth…

18+ FANFIC / Soft & protective Rupert 🥺 Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷

As winter began its acquisition of Rutshire, the bluebell woods had transformed into a frosted palace of violet bottles, the imposing tree branches billowed majestically in the wind and the iced ground crunched beneath your feet. Wrapped up carefully in a paprika-orange woollen jumper, blue mom jeans and black boots, you shuddered under the cold as you watched a grey squirrel flitter across the frosted grass. Your cheeks were mottled with red, incoming tears stinging your eyes against the chilled air. You had been on three dates since living in Rutshire, and every single one had left you down-trodden and weary, them attempting to coax you into bed after a few drinks. What if you’ll be seen this way forever, destined to a life of being holed up in your thatched cottage alone?

The spirited squirrel darted across the field at the sound of a thunderous bark. Turning your head, you observed the most beautiful Blue Lurcher bounding after it, tail wagging furiously. “Blue!” A husky, authoritative voice yelled after him, their footsteps crunching under the frost as they sprinted after them. Blue rescinded his torment of the squirrel, and instead took to stretching his legs and running laps across the field instead. “Well hello, darling.” The man spoke, catching up with you now and looking down at you. “Whatever’s the matter? Cold?” He asked, using his thumb to wipe away a salty tear from the corner of your eye. “Rupert! No, I’m fine.” You snapped, bunching your jumpers’ sleeves over your wrists and patting your eyes dry. “Is he yours?” You asked, pointing over at Blue. “Yes. He’s rather something, isn’t he?” Rupert smiled adoringly at his favourite pup.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He added, glaring down at you, his chiselled features softening. Your face was scrubbed clean of makeup and you allowed your espresso-brown curls to bound over your shoulders, untameable and majestic. “I went on a date today. It was going… okay, until he had one too many gins and told me that, whilst I was moderately attractive, I am by no means attractive enough to be with.” You whimpered, his harsh words replaying themselves constantly. Slightly embarrassed, you failed to mention that the date had also informed you that your nose was too upturned, your skin appeared blemished by freckles and your makeup was most unslightly. Rupert’s face contorted in anger. How could anyone say such a thing, and to you? He could only notice, all too well, that you had the most adorable button nose and a smattering of freckles across your nose and cheeks that he’d adore to kiss, one by one.

“Well, he’s a fool. He would be immensely lucky to have you.” Rupert snapped, contemplating how easy it would be to track down the man and make him regret his words. “Nobody my age gives me a second glance. If someone like him thinks I’m not good enough, who will? What if I end up dying, alone and unloved and… and utterly unattractive?” You splutter through emerging tears, hyperventilating frantically. Without a second thought, Rupert took you into his arms, cradling you protectively. Your head rested against his chest, accelerated heartbeat instantaneously returning to its rhythmic thump as you inhaled Rupert’s musky aftershave. “Angel, don’t be absurd. You,” Rupert announced as he peeled you from his chest and held you at arms length, “are exquisite. I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but I marvel at your beauty.” Rupert expressed, feeling his core melt as the wintery sky illuminated your cerulean eyes.

“You’re just saying that.” You sniffled in response. “This boy that you went on a date with has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. You deserve a real man. A man would never treat you like that.” He frowned, and removed his grip from your shoulders. Little, delicate snowflakes had begin to fall, settling softly on the ground, falling your wispy eyelashes and creating a crown of frost on your hair. “What man is going to want me?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes to the heaven. Inching towards you, Rupert raked his hand through the silken tresses of your hair, stroking his thumb against your mottled cheek. The breath caught in your throat — longing for his caress to last for eternity. With stifled breath, Rupert leant into you and delivered a tender kiss upon your lips. As you exhaled and relented to his advances, Rupert grew more passionate — enveloping you in his arms and growing more lustful is his kiss. You never wanted him to let go.

Eventually, he pulled away, his intent forever marked upon your lips. “I couldn’t think of better lips I would want to kiss for the rest of my life. I will show you how a real man should treat you.” Rupert grinned, and for the first time today, you allowed a small smirk to tug at the corners of your lips. You were now so immensely grateful that your date had failed — Rupert was all you ever needed.

[katealpha]

I just couldn’t help myself but get at least one more comm of my new favorite manga scene in from @xmomokosx

Here we have Naomi as she appears after heading into the bathroom to see what’s happened to her body. She’s gone from 5 months to almost due in an instantaneous fashion. While her heart beats fast with fear and confusion, she feels the pushes and wiggles of a baby in her bell. she can’t help but wonder aloud if she’s dreaming or not, with no explanation for how this could happen to her. She calls off her current job, understandably feeling out of sorts. Just then, she feels pain clamping around her stomach, the taut surface driving up and shuddering. It’s almost too much for her to continue standing as she now knows that this accelerated pregnancy is going to end soon, and that she needs to get out of there, her life may depend upon it…

[usafphantom2]

Out-turned by the MiG-17

As it could with every other US fighter, the veteran MiG-17 could outturn the Crusader at 300-350 Knots Indicated Airspeed (KIAS). It was superior training and missiles that enabled the Crusader to better the MiG-17. In fighting the MiG-21 in Vietnam, the Crusader did not have a distinct performance advantage. The MiG-21 had superior acceleration above Mach 1.1, and superior instantaneous G below 400 KIAS

[sanspuppet]

27&32 with sanhwa if possible for the smut prompts!

27. “Beg for it”

32. “Go on, fuck yourself on my cock”

nsfw drabble

dom!San x dom!Hwa x sub!afab!reader

You didn’t even ask yourself how you ended up at the shared dorm of your bestfriends. Or why you were on your knees in front of them; with San raising your chin as he watches you with an eyebrow raised, Seonghwa next to him with arms crossed, and a slight smirk taking his way onto his face. San turns his head to Hwa, while his fingers move to your cheeks, squeezing them.

“Look at how pretty she is” Seonghwa nodded at him, his eyes still locked on you, before giggling cockily.

“imagine how beautiful she’ll be after we fuck her” He added, stepping in front of him to face you as he kneels down. The way Seonghwa looks at you, the way San does too, being submissive to them without any hesitation… it makes you uncomfortably wet, you can feel that you’re already throbbing from the stickiness inside your panties.

“Want us to take good care of you, beauty?” Seonghwa approaches your ear, his low voice vibrating in your mind, your heartbeat accelerating as he’s attached his lips to your earlobe, sucking and biting on them while he makes sure you stay still with his hand on your neck.

“Y-yes… sir” you stutter, automatically moaning when Hwa’s lips move under your chin. He pulls away after leaving a soft yet aroused kiss.

“Beg for it.” he stands up, his cock unintentionally twitching at the way you named him.

“Please, please Hwa…” you move your gaze to the man next to him. “Please San… use me”

The desperation in your voice tone makes the two smirk, San takes you in his strong arms, laying you on their bed. Hwa takes the opportunity to start undressing himself, before reaching you onto the bed. He hikes your shirt up, while San drags your skirt down. They both attach their lips on your intimate parts as soon as they expose them. Hwa’s hands are moving on every inch of your upper body and licking on your tits, San gropes your thighs instead, making out passionately with your clit.

You whine softly at the feeling of their hot tongues worshipping your body, making them groan too.

“Yeah you like that? Like how San is eating you out?” Seonghwa whispers at you, pinching your erected nipple.

“Mm- yeah… please i want your dicks” you whimper out, searching for Hwa’s chest as you squeeze your eyes shut. San chuckles between your legs, sending shivers through your core.

“Ride him kitten, i want you to fuck Seonghwa”

You nod instantaneously, biting your lips as you watch Seonghwa laying on his back and patting on his naked lap, encouraging you to sit in him. You gulp when you pay attention at the actual length of his cock, expecting to be difficult to adhere at it once you take it in. You show your back to Hwa as you position yourself on his pelvis, you slowly move down when you first push his tip inside you. San watches you joyfully, seeing you struggling to get used to Hwa.

“Go on, fuck yourself on my cock” Seonghwa puts forth, slapping sweetly your ass cheeks, making you start to move up and down on his dick.

You move your gaze down at the mattress, where your fingers where gripping at the sheets, but you finish to see unintentionally San’s thick dick standing not far from you, his precum leaking slowly out of it. Your eyes wide, which he notices it:

“What? Scared to take me too? Don’t worry, i won’t fuck your ass, i just need to use your pretty mouth.” As soon as he appeals that, he raises his hips enough for his cockhead to touch your swollen lips. San takes it in his hand, slamming it slightly against your cheek.

“Open up baby” You take him down your throat instantly, sucking and stroking the underside of his dick with your hot tongue. Meanwhile you’re still bouncing on Hwa’s lap with his crotch deep in your pussy.

Many minutes passes like this, all of you quickly getting closer to your orgasm at some point. You keep moaning even though your mouth is full, the two men seem close too by their sloppy movements.

“Yeah come on baby, come for us” Hwa mumbles softly. “We’re gonna fill both of your holes, stuff you fill with our cum” San adds, speeding up the pace with he’s pumping in your mouth. Every one of you reach his climax at the same time, your legs become like jelly once you feel Seonghwa releasing his load inside your soaked cunt, you find it hard not to choke with your throat full of San’s cock and cum. They both pull out of you, when they notice you’re about to collapse, caressing your body as the lay you on the mattress and positioning themselves at your sides.

“Such a good girl, we must treat her right”

“Yeah, she definitely is. I hope she knows how much we love her”

[ardri-na-bpiteog]

I know this isn't exactly new but very few things frustrate me as much as boomers telling people they're too young to be tired. At Christmas one of my uncles was telling my cousin how "exhausted shouldn't be even in your vocabulary, when I was your age..."

Beside the fact that there are a variety of things, like chronic depression or autism burnout that can cause people to have abnormally low energy levels, they also just never acknowledge that the pace of life has accelerated significantly since they were young.

Technology has increased efficiency which also means that things are expected to happen more quickly now. Communication is more instantaneous, deadlines are shorter, you are expected to constantly be going. The proliferation of social media, the 24/7 news cycle, and apps like TikTok also mean that our brains are processing more information than ever before. We are stimulated at levels never before possible in human history and that does wear people out.

Add on the existential doom hovering over our heads in the form of climate change, an increasingly unstable global stage, and a perceptible, measurable decline in the quality of life for most younger people in "Western" countries, it is perfectly understandable that so many people are absolutely TIRED even though they're young and supposed to be full of energy.

[brittanyearnestauthor]

Exploring Different Word Alternatives

Have you ever found yourself searching for the perfect word to describe something, but it just wouldn’t come to mind? You’re not alone—this is a common challenge for writers. In this post, I’ll share some word alternatives that might help spark inspiration and enrich your writing.

Colors

- Vibrant: Radiant, striking, luminous

- Subdued: Muted, pale, soft

- Energetic: Fiery, electric, vivid

- Mysterious: Smoky, shadowy, dusky

Emotions

- Happy: Cheerful, jubilant, blissful

- Sad: Melancholic, somber, heartbroken

- Excitement: Thrilled, elated, ecstatic

- Calm: Serene, tranquil, composed

Textures

- Smooth: Silky, velvety, polished

- Rough: Jagged, coarse, gritty

- Soft: Plush, fluffy, feathery

- Bumpy: Lumpy, uneven, ridged

Shapes

- Curved: Arched, circular, winding

- Angular: Sharp, pointed, geometric

- Fluid: Undulating, amorphous, sinuous

- Symmetrical: Balanced, uniform, mirrored

Sizes

- Large: Massive, colossal, expansive

- Small: Petite, miniature, compact

- Towering: Gigantic, monumental, lofty

- Tiny: Dainty, minuscule, wee

Movement

- Fast: Brisk, rapid, accelerated

- Slow: Leisurely, gradual, sluggish

- Graceful: Flowing, elegant, rhythmic

- Chaotic: Erratic, turbulent, jagged

Sounds

- Loud: Booming, thunderous, blaring

- Quiet: Hushed, muffled, whispering

Smells

- Fragrant: Aromatic, perfumed, floral

- Pungent: Sharp, acrid, earthy

Taste

- Sweet: Sugary, honeyed, luscious

- Savory: Rich, umami, tangy

Feelings of Time

- Fast: Fleeting, instantaneous, sudden

- Slow: Lingering, timeless, endless

Conclusion

Choosing the right words can elevate your writing and make your descriptions stand out. The alternatives shared here are just starting points—let them inspire you to find even more creative ways to express yourself. Writing is a continuous journey of exploration, so keep practicing and experimenting with language.

Happy writing!

[mrsoharaa]

₊ ⋆ 𝔏𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 ⊹ ₊

characters; Vampire! Kento Nanami x Reader

cw; blood sucking/draining, slightly suggestive (not much, but tentatively descriptive to the point of lmao), Nanami being...well, Nanami 😩🥴)

a/n; this one's for you pookie @lazyjellyfish300 😘🫶🏼 expect more of Vampire! Nanami soon sometime later down the spooky road! 👀😩🫶🏼🤞🏼

The intensity and tender that pooled in those dark, polished irises of deep hazel wavered with something much more then just a hinder taste of your candid blood and carnal lust. A flicker of infatuation and craving for your touch, your admiration - your affections, made the sweet, gentle polite blonde vampire yearn for you that much more.

The subtle touch on your arm rises slightly, plush, cold lips softly grazes against the lump of your knuckles, gradually mulling over beneath the underside of your delicate wrist. Cool breaths fan across the delicate skin as he rakes over the tender valley with smooth aspiration.

Eyes that fill with such need and drive, starring directly into your own dilated pupils with a weight of ambition and devotion. The sound of your puttering heart practically reverberating vividly through his ears, the titillating taste of your pumping blood just inches away from his hungry lips, practically delving deep into his anxious tongue. He insinuates a low, inaudible groan, only blinking once before giving your soft wrist and pliable kiss. The sound of your accelerating heartbeat only driving his thirst and will that much more.

Uses his free hand to carefully roll up the sleeves of your satiny dress up to your forearms, painting his beautiful lips over the subtle skin of your wrist. Wallowing in the lingering syrupy scent of your dainty perfume coating over your perfect flesh, mixed with the intoxicating natural aroma of your lulling body.

Hums in a steady baritone, a satisfied purr rumbling against his solid chest, protracts his pearly piercing fangs and delicately pinches into the delightful skin of your wrist. The sudden rush of euphoria and overwhelming bliss surging all through his throbbing body.

Grumbles softly as he feels your body jerk to his sudden intrusion into your silken skin, slips his left hand down to the lower part of your back to press you closer to his firm, sturdy body. His supple mouth still latched onto your sweet skin, melding himself into a deep state of mind warping pleasure and erratic fulfillment of desire and intoxication. Drowning himself in the deep endless abyss of sheer gratification and hunger.

The sting in his bite rushes through you in waves of searing heat and numbness, your body instantaneously numbing into his every touch, mind melting into a foggy haze. Nothing but a hot pulse of pain and drowsiness swarming all over your body, little breathy gasps slip off past your tied tongue as you fall limp into his hovering weight. Allowing this alluring creature to devour you whole.

[pukanavis]

Ryui Shiramitsu SR Card Story "An Instantaneous Eternity With A Lost Rabbit" Track 2

Location: HAMA House ・Living Room

Rabbit: *Squeak* ♪

Ryui: …It can’t get enough of that feeder ball.

Kinari: Lu-sama provides only the best recommendations.

Ryui: Alright, Usamaru, your enclosure is as good as new.

Rabbit: *Squeak* !

Kinari: It looks like it recognised when you called its name. Being such a rotund rabbit, I can see where “Usamaru” came from.

Ryui: It’s just a litttle nickname I came up with. It already has a proper name of its own, so I can’t go and give it a whole new one.

Kinari: A week has already passed since we’ve begun searching for the owner. It may be time to come up with a more official name soon.

Ryui: That’d mean…

(I’d have to be ready to take him in permanently…is what it’d mean.)

…I’ll have a think about some names.

Liguang: —Shiramitsu, Azekawa

Ryui: What’s up?

Liguang: I’ve found the rabbit’s owner.

Ryui: !

Rabbit’s Owner: I’m sorry for all the trouble. I really can't thank you enough…!

Ryui: …...

Kinari: And just like that, it’s gone.

Liguang: …They insisted on coming by immediately once we got in contact.

Ryui: …I bet they were worried sick.

Liguang: …...

Ryui: …I’ll return everything you lent me once I’ve cleaned it up, Lu. As for all that rabbit stuff I bought, can I hand over ownership of them to you?

Liguang: Sure.

Ryui: Sweet, I’m gonna head back inside then.

Liguang: …Wait.

Liguang: Follow the direction of their fur growth with the brush—gently, as if you were petting them by hand.

Ryui: …Like this?

Ryanpin: *Squeak* …♪

Kinari: The rabbit’s heart is beating at a steady rate. Ryui-sama’s brushing technique must be nice and calming.

Ryui: …Feels like you never give anyone the chance to get near your rabbits. Are you just trying to be nice?

Liguang: It’s because they’ve all begun moulting, actually. It’s a pain having to groom all 4 of them.

Ryui: Oh, I getcha.

Liguang: …You’re welcome to come brush them again.

Ryui: Your rabbits are your problem…but I’ll give you a hand for today.

Kinari: …Ryui-sama’s heart beat has accelerated. This rate suggests that he is filled with excitement and joy at the possibility of spending time with the rabbits again.

Ryui: —Wh…?

Kinari: The probability of Ryui-sama’s previous remarks being the inverse of what he feels internally is 92.37%.

Liguang: …Heh.

Ryui: N-No, that’s not true! As if I'd be excited about that! I don't give two fucks about hanging out with some damn rabbits!!

You couldn’t be more wrong, so quit thinkin’ whatever you’re thinkin’…!

Ryanpin: *Squeak* ♪

Back

Notes

1) Ryui has nicknamed the bunny by combining the 'usa' in usagi (rabbit) and 'maru' (circle) to make Usamaru.

2) In the original text, Liguang calls Ryui by 白光兄 (lit. Older Shiramitsu Brother) but since that sounds clunky in English, I translate it as simply just Shiramitsu.

[pumperpup]

In the shadowed corners of a bustling science convention, Dr. Felix Morveau adjusted his glasses, eyeing his next unwitting participant. He had set up a modest booth, misleadingly titled “The Future of Physical Fitness,” where his device, the Morpho Modulator, was hidden beneath a table draped in velvet. The device resembled a vintage radio, complete with dials and a large antenna, but its purpose was far from simple communication.

As the crowd thinned, a young scholar named Ethan approached, drawn by curiosity. He was slender, his body more accustomed to the rigors of academic marathons than physical ones. “What’s this about then?” Ethan asked, skepticism laced in his tone.

“Oh, just a small demonstration of potential,” Dr. Morveau replied with a sly smile. “Would you care to volunteer? It’s completely harmless, I assure you.”

Ethan hesitated but nodded, intrigued despite himself. Dr. Morveau gestured for him to stand on a marked spot in front of the device. “Just relax,” Felix advised as he adjusted the dials, the machine humming to life with a soft, electric purr.

Ethan felt a light tingling that seemed harmless, even ticklish. But as the machine's hum deepened, that tingling escalated into a potent, all-consuming buzz that coursed through his body. The sensation was both unsettling and enthralling. His muscles began to respond—first tightening, then expanding, growing visibly with each passing second. As the transformation gained momentum, Ethan’s discomfort mingled with an unexpected rush of exhilaration. “I—I think that’s enough,” he stammered, but his voice was drowned out by the escalating whir of the machine.

Dr. Morveau, his eyes alight with the thrill of experimentation, barely nodded at Ethan’s concern. “Just a bit more, let’s push the boundaries,” he murmured to himself more than to Ethan, and with that, he turned the dial up dramatically.

The effect was instantaneous. Ethan felt a powerful surge within him as his muscles expanded at an even faster rate. His biceps swelled, stretching the fabric of his sleeves to a near breaking point. His chest broadened, each new muscle fiber knitting together with astonishing speed and definition.

Overwhelmed by the intensity, Ethan closed his eyes, a deep moan escaping him as he surrendered to the transformation. The growth was rapid, each second adding layers of muscle that Ethan had never possessed nor imagined. His back widened, shoulders ballooning as they packed on mass. The euphoria of the transformation, fueled by the sudden acceleration, was profound—his body was not just growing, it was being sculpted into something formidable, powerful beyond his wildest understanding.

“Marvelous! Look at the definition, the symmetry!” Dr. Morveau exclaimed, utterly captivated by the sight. He observed every detail with the fascination of a scientist witnessing a great discovery, oblivious to the ethical boundaries he was overstepping.

Ethan, still with eyes closed, felt every fiber of his being stretched and expanded. The growth was exhilarating, a primal joy in gaining strength so rapidly, yet it was also terrifying—his own body becoming unfamiliar under the relentless expansion of muscle.

With a loud crack and a burst of sparks, the Morpho Modulator exploded, smoke billowing around Felix. The transformation halted abruptly, leaving Ethan massively muscled and towering, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief.

Felix, face blackened with soot but unharmed, looked at the remnants of his machine, then at Ethan, and finally at the shocked audience. "It appears we've discovered his limit," he remarked dryly.

[rohvee]

i know nothing about death stranding, what is DOOMS?? I'd assume based on your jinx piece that it was one of those "diseases that gives you superpowers in dystopia", but I'm not sure?? Also, how does it resurrect people, I'm very confused

Here’s all the notes about Death Stranding lore I’ve written out to explain to others so far, hope it helps but feel free to ask for more clarification, I’m happy to go into more detail! Death Stranding also has a really comprehensive wiki ☺️

Overview: the veil between the land of the dead (also known as the Beach) and the land of the living was disrupted by matter/antimatter eruptions known as Voidouts in an event known as the Death Stranding. Now creatures and materials from the Beach are leaking into the land of the living.

DOOMS: a condition where the sufferer has a connection to the land of the dead; grants special abilities but comes with a lot of drawbacks.

Repatriate: Someone who can come back from the dead. Essentially, the land of the dead rejects their souls and sends them back to their bodies. (Very rare, even among DOOMS sufferers)

Tar: a substance that seeps from the land of the dead to the land of the living.

Chiralium: a crystalline material that comes from the land of the dead. Is not affected by the flow of time.

Timefall: rain that accelerates time for anything it touches. If it touches your skin, your skin ages rapidly.

BTs: “Beached Things”, ghosts, essentially. If they come into contact with a living human, it causes a Voidout.

Stencils: handprints from BTs that appear on the body when someone repatriates.

Hematic weapons: anti-BT weapons utilizing the blood of repatriates.

BBs (Bridge Babies): unborn perpetual seven-month-old fetuses with a strong connection to the Beach. Forming a connection with a BB can grant someone the ability to sense BTs.

Cryptobiotes: little waterbear-like creatures from the Beach. When eaten, they restore lost blood.

MULES: cargo thieves.

Porters: people who make vital deliveries between cities, a dangerous job due to Timefall, BTs, MULES and terrorist groups.

Chiral Network: utilizes the timeless nature of chiral crystals and the Beach to transmit mass amounts of data instantaneously.

Chiral Printing: using the chiral network and chiralium to instantaneously fabricate structures/objects. Requires material to be on hand.

Odradek: a device worn on the back that helps detect BTs.