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cartierdreamx · 1 year

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𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖔 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 *1*

OMG HI MY SWEET LOVES <3, I hope you’re doing well, and your week was great! I am so so so excited to share with you the first chapter of my new Mafia AU series, and I am even more excited to write it (the love you showed to FAD and my drabbles warm my heart so so much), I don’t want to reveal but because I want you to read that, but I will say both you and Jenna are 25 in this story, something about 25 just seems like the right age for this. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging, following and commenting! Thank you all for your constant love and support! J <33

If you would like to be apart of a taglist so you know when the next chapter comes out, comment down below or let me know thru asks!!

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: slight angst, slight dark themes, swearing, mentions of weapons and violence.

This fic is STRICTLY 18+, as it involves adult themes, minors DNI, you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment which this fic falls under, so one last warning- this fic is 18+. Thank you!

FYI: JENNA IS G!P IN THIS FIC!!

Words flow through you with ease, you inhaled words the same way oxygen seeps into your body, and like carbon dioxide leaving, what left instead, was art. Your art. So, journalism was destined for you, it was your calling, you would have gone into publishing but there was something about people that drew you in, and there was the fact that you lived in the Bay area, your home, well developed into your home, you moved a few years back because something in you sparked and said to move, you knew the opportunities would be great, and you proved yourself right. You found yourself working for an independent, yet big journalism company right in the heart of Silicon Valley, the tech city, right where the hearts of Google and Apple reside. They pay good money, having saved enough to rent out a loft close to work and have your own car, a black Toyota 86 with a custom spoiler and a lip kit wrapped around the body and the colour so deep and rich, Batman would be jealous. But there was one thing that was missing, rumination would fill your mind, if journalism was destined for you, why couldn’t the heart of someone be too. Love. You were missing love, what’s yours will come to you and everything happens for a reason would be a constant mantra of yours, but patience was a draining one, and love is a losing game. Not to worry, your words would keep you company and that would be enough, right?

“Y/N!” Solana calls out for you, your boss, manager, bff, mother, every occupation under the blazing sun, she’s that to you.

The corner of your mouth connects to your ears and your eyes widens as the auditory sounds hit your ear drums. You loved her with your whole heart,

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” She rushes towards you with such sass, it makes you giggle.

“Better now that you’re here.”

“Awww, I love youuuu.”

“Huh?” You giggle, extending your hand out to grab the drink she clearly bought for you, then giving her a mocking wink.

“Oh, you dickhead.” Solana exclaims as she realises your sweet confession was directed towards the ice latte.

A soft tsk leaves her mouth as she rolls her eyes at you, as she leans over your shoulders, she reads over what you’re writing. You were a talented writer, everyone wanted you and not just journalism, anything that included writing, they wanted you. But for some reason Solana’s company ‘Bayseyes’ reeled you in, it felt like second nature to you, it felt like home, electricity rooted in your fingers when your touch met with the keyboard during your trial shifts when you were a rookie, no other branch made you feel this way. And plus, you really loved how ‘Bayseyes’ wasn’t toxic, the information was fished out and you and your colleagues had high rating articles, but no negative connotation was linked to you guys unlike other journalism and tabloid companies.

“This is good y/n.”

“Aw, thank you.”

“If you worked at TMZ.”

“OKAY OUCH, if you hated it just say that smh.”

“Y/N, it’s good, but I know you to be amazing, scrap this and write a new one.”

“Okay, be honest, are you trying to murder me? I feel like a 10-inch knife has just been plunged deep into my heart, I’ll write a new one but you’re giving this story to a rookie, this is too beautiful to be deleted off this sweet universe of ours.”

“You are so dramatic you know that? Fine.” She was right, you are dramatic, but in a fun, ironic way, it’s what made people laugh and what this world needed was more laughter, as sad as it sounds, you used that same dramatics and turned it into a play when foster parents would meet you, whilst at the same time, flaunting that big heart of yours. However, fostering is easier said than done, every change of parents and every house you had to learn the layout of, was never your fault, you were so loved, but you can’t help but blame the change on you each time, if you were so loved, why didn’t you have a home. You were close once, almost about to have your forever home but problems with the system always won. Almost is never enough.

A bright, mocking smile paints you face as Solana scoffs at you, she always gave into your needs and want, but you always provided her with what she needed, in every form, so she can’t help but have a soft spot for you, giving in to your commands.

“So, what is my little rising star going to write about?”

“Hmmm royal family? The coronation, OH! There’s talk that there was a paparazzi high speed chase with Meghan and Harry.”

“Like every other journalism branch? We’re not TMZ babes, we’re better.”

Folding your arms and leaning back into your chair, suffocating Solana’s fingers, you scoff out of disappointment. Feeling Solana’s fingers squirm out from the space between your back and your chair, you swivel around to face her.

“Well, I don’t know what you want, everything has been milked.” As the words leave your tongue, you see her mouth form a smirk paired with a smug look. “Sol, what did you do?”

“Yes, everything has been milked, but not this.” You see an emerald, green paper with hints of gold flash into your eyes, the glossy material reflecting off the lights. Your lips purse inwards and your eyebrows scrunch down, if confusion ever knew your name, now was when it screamed it.

“What is that?”

“Well Ms. L/N, this, this is rarer than any diamond, pearl or ruby out there, you’ve been invited to Jenna Ortega’s annual masquerade ball.” Her smirk now turning into a cheese, a cheese so wide it was starting to creep you out.

“As in, mafia leader Jenna Ortega?”

“Yup!” She says ever so positively.

“As in, most feared women in San Francisco, HELL, maybe in America?”

“Oh well, that’s subjective.”

“NOOO, it’s fact.” An obvious annoyance paints your face as you bite the right side of your lip, knowing there was no fighting this, as much as you didn’t want to attend, you couldn’t say no to her, and plus, this invitation is so exclusive, more exclusive than the MET, which you, not to sound snobby, you’ve been to, not as a guest though, but obviously as a journalist.

“You’re going Y/N, that’s final, I’m speaking as your boss, we need this, YOU need this. No one has ever been close enough to her to get an exclusive, it’s always been assistants on top of assistants on top of body guards, I need you to work your charm.”

A big sigh escapes your mouth, your sign of submission and defeat, looks like you’re going to attend. You can’t help but feel a small strike of lightning hit your aortas though, but your pride was too big for you to ever admit that to Sol, to be fair, you can’t remember the last time you went out and enjoyed yourself, though you can’t promise you’d enjoy this ball, you can’t remember the last time you got dressed up, baddie up, just in general felt pretty about yourself. So that, and only that had you excited, oh and maybe the little fact this story could make you, Sol, and anyone under the name of the company MILLIONS.

“Okay fine, but only for work.”

“Oh sweetie, I want you to get laid too.” The same cheesey smile back plastered on her face as wide as the curve of a banana was really starting to get to you now.

“If I say fine, will you stop leering at me with that monstrous smile of yours.”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

“Okay my smile is back to normal now, but I’m serious, thought I want you to write a global hit, I also want you to have fun, you’re 25, Jenna is 25, I want some grandbabies.”

“WOAHHHH SLOW YOUR ROLL, first of all you’re 33, no grandbabies, second of all, no! I’m not hooking up with the head of the Ortega mafia family, and definitely not getting pregnant.”

“But she’s hot.”

You throw your hands up in the air and swiftly placed your face in them once you brought your arms down.

“Just because she’s hot does not mean I’m getting pregnant.”

“AH HAH, so you agree she’s hot!”

“Okay that’s it.” You stand up and start grabbing your things, trying to shake off what Sol just insisted.

“Waitttt, where are you going?”

“Lunch, away from you.”

“NOOOO, I was kidding, okay fine, at least have lunch with me, you can try on your dress.”

“You have my dress already? Wait- when is it?” Sounding hesitant, thinking you had more time until the ball.

“Heh, tonight.”

You freeze and stop in your tracks, a million thoughts illuminating your mind, what’re you going to wear, make up, shoes, hair, hookups??? And maybe the fact that you’re going to be in a room highlighted with the word danger. Not saying that weapons would be blazing all over the room, but you felt a sense of caution attending, Jenna had enemies, it’s the mafia, without enemies are you really in the mafia. Her main enemy though was the other mafia family, the hierarchy goes Ortega and then Marcello, they were also feared but Ortega was more liked. You never liked that life, the whole mafia thing, sure it was family oriented, and they never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it, no women, no children, well Ortega anyways, Marcello ran on different values, they were ruthless, but they knew better than to cross Ortega’s lines, it was the one thing they feared, and they could never find a way to make Jenna vulnerable, Jenna would loves herself and the family too much to let herself be vulnerable. She is Bay city’s most feared and most eligible bachelorette.

“ARE YOU INSANE? THERE’S NO TIME.”

Sol cups your face and blows on you “there is plenty of time, you’re leaving early, we’re going to get lunch, then you’re going to try on your dress, you get ready, and I will do your hair and makeup, make Jenna fiend for you.”

“You have got to calm it with Jenna.”

“Yeah, whatever come on.”

Back at your green infested loft, adorned with all the books, warmth, and plant babies you could ever imagine, you get Sol to place a blindfold on you so the first time you’d see the dress is when she takes off your blindfold in front of your mirror.

“Are you ready?”

“Very.”

As she takes off the blindfold, your eyes take a second to focus on your figure in the mirror, a floor length, ruby red dress drapes and cherishes every beautiful curve of yours, the high slit showcasing your leg accentuates your ass, every cinch of the corset top pushing up your ample bosom, with just enough fabric draping over your shoulders, but not enough to call them sleeves.

“Wow.” Was all you could muster up to say, shocked at how glistening your beauty was, you can’t remember the last time you felt this way about yourself.

“Wow, indeed, but honestly, you deserve more than a wow, you’ll capture everyone’s eyes, and especially Jenna’s eyes.”

You let out a soft giggle, opening your arms and taking her in, “thank you so much for this.” She was taller than you so one hand rests on your head and the other around your back and waist whilst your arms bear hugged her entire waist.

“You deserve it, love, now come on, we have to do your hair and makeup.”

Stepping into Ortega towers was every bit of excitement and nervousness all at once, like you were going to throw up but instead of germs and digested food, it’d be confetti. A red carpet was rolled out for guests and paparazzi hugged both sides of walk behind golden ropes, you were a nobody, so you wanted to swift your way into the building. You couldn’t help but take in the city views even if you were at ground level, and the towering building in front of you captured every breath in your lungs, it was an architectural dream, heights reaching mountains but curves and twists and openings everywhere you looked. There were two main towers, the roots of the building curving towards each other and then straightening up with a long adjoining room, connecting one tower to the next, assuming that is where the ball is being held. And as if that wasn’t enough to impress you, there was one more adjoining room at the very top, like a princess keep at a castle, but instead of being the size of a small bathroom, it was the width of both towers and the gaps in between, you could only assume that is Jenna’s penthouse. Sources online stated that the towers was home to the Ortega family, where Jenna spent the most time, where missions and meetings were officialised, an office space for hundreds of workers, and a tactical space for hundreds more body guards and loyal subjects, and a small rumour suggests that there is an unground vault filled all the riches you could imagine, and of-course, every weapon they needed.

The blinding lights stung your eyes, but luckily it took a matter of seconds for you to get in. Though your gold mask with intricate designs hugging your face didn’t help as the lights just reflected gold flashes into your eyes, part of that mask covered the top left side of your face and your entire forehead, leaving the right side naked but the mask hid your identity enough. You were met with security looking at every guest’s invitation, handing them yours, you were given the okay, batches of people swarm the elevators trying to get to the ball. Luckily you didn’t have to try that hard as, despite the hundreds of guests attending, everyone was calm, collected and all listening to security, though it might’ve been the fear that coerced them to submit to their instructions.

Once the elevator doors open the lively music entered your ears which made you laugh a bit, despite this ‘party’ being a masquerade ball, there was youth in the air, no boring classical music, but you were sure that they’d be some of that later in the night. Your first instinct was to dash for the bar, free drinks, free food, and you planned to make Jenna’s pockets hurt even just the tiniest bit, but then that motivation was short lived when your slow ass finally realised that this ball would have thousands of sponsors and donations.

“Hey! What can I get you?” A bartender greets you with a warm smile.

“Pornstar martini, please.” Keeping it on the sweet side, and plus you didn’t want to make a face every time you took a sip out of your drink because the alcohol taste was too strong.

“I like your style, ma’am, coming right up.”

You take mental notes of your surroundings and what your vision is telling you, you would’ve brought along a small note pad or pulled out your phone, but now was not the time, and you’d be caught dead before someone thought of you as that cliché quirky girl trying to be different so you could catch someone’s attention. Noting your surroundings, you see a bunch of masks, no shit, but you realise all the workers and body guards had matching suits, uniforms and masks, workers and body guards having different looks but under those subcategories, they were all matching, it was cute but a bit cliché you admit. Not wanting to expose yourself as a journalist straight away, you make small talk with the bartender, asking questions that wouldn’t compromise you.

“Soooo, I’m kinda new to this scene, who do you think is worth my time?”

“Well ma’am, look around and try to scan people’s faces and mannerisms, I’m sure you’ll be able to spot out some celebrities, find the ones you love and charm them, they’ll make great company for tonight.”

“And the host?”

“Heh, Ms. Ortega likes to keep it on the downlow, if you catch her attention, she’ll come to you, but her groupies always get to her first, and because their hearts are filled with greed and lust, they’ll never give her back to the party.”

“Lust rearranged is slut, KIDDING, KIDDING, I’m sure they have their reasons of wanting her.”

“No, you’re right, cus all they want is money, never genuine, always just sex.”

“But Ms. Ortega is a playgirl, she enjoys it too much to let them go?”

“Right on the nose ma’am.”

You give gratitude to the bartender for keeping you company and allowing yourself to get comfortable and adapt to the scene, but you had to let them go and do their job or I’m sure someone would’ve complained or worse, someone might’ve thought you were hitting on them or vice versa. Making small talk with strangers always pained you but you were good at it, one of the many perks about journalism, the information you want, you’d get it one way or another. But alas the open bar finally catches up to you when a tall, with a heavy dusk scent interrupts a rather pleasant conversation with the superiors of a pharmaceutical company.

“Heyyy, baby.” He slurs, trying to inch closer to you grabbing your waist but you wiggle out of his grasp, standing your ground behind your company.

“Sir, you have no business disturbing this young woman.”

“Well, you have no business disturbing the party in my pants, this young woman was going to attend.”

His comments made you sick, your shoulders tense up as you try to shake the feeling of his touch away. You had the tendency to shut down during situations like these, you want to scream, want to stand your ground, but your body wouldn’t let you, instead you hold your fort and protect yourself, shielding your cage from any comments that came towards you.

“Aw, now you’re silent, come here and I could have you screaming all night.” He reaches out for your wrist but luckily security got to him first, and they were anything but gentle, you were glad though, he got what was coming to him. It did surprise you that security apologised for his behaviour, giving you a gentle smile all at the same time inducing a fear into the man who disturbed your evening.

“Oh my, Ms, are you okay?” A man from your company asks you, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes, thank you, I’m okay, I’ve been through worse.”

“We’re glad to hear that you’re okay, would you like anything? Water?”

“Nooo, thank you for the offer though, but I’m really fine, thanks for calling security though.”

A look of confusion clicks on their face, almost simultaneously too.

“Uh, as much as we wanted to, we didn’t call them, we couldn’t find one in time.”

“Oh, weird, but luckily they saw, anyways, it was really lovely chatting to you guys, but I’m going to head out for some fresh air.”

“No worries at all Ms. L/N, you were a pleasure, please, you’re more than welcome to come up and chat again when you come back.”

Their comments warmed your heart, you shook all their hands, giving them a smile and moved towards the nearest door to a balcony. Once you stepped outside the cold yet refreshing breeze wrapped around your skin, making you shiver a little, but your body warmth and adrenaline was enough to calm the goosebumps down. To keep time going, you admire the city lights, you were so in love with San Francisco, and you were convinced it was in love with you too the way it welcomed you into its economic heart. Out in the distance you could see the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, blinkering and flaunting its lights to the entire city whilst providing guidance to the cars and vehicles passing through. You were in a trance, but there were no complaints coming out of you, just serenity. Too hyper focused on the view you didn’t hear the door open behind you and you certainly did not feel the presence of another body walking towards you.

“Enjoying the view?” Anonymous asks, after the whole fiasco with that grotty man, you were sure to be careful of random people coming up to you but something in you told you not to worry, the city spoke to you, and you listened.

“Very much, I’m so in love.” To your obliviousness, you don’t realise the other body with you is her. Jenna Ortega. The head and heir to the Ortega mafia family.

“Any right-minded person would be jealous of the love you have for the city.”

You giggle, and realise you feel your blood raise to your skin and your heart rhythm picks up a pace but wanting to keep their anonymity and for your own mysterious fun, you don’t turn around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means any person would be jealous a city is getting your love rather than them.”

“Who says my love is worthy?”

“A beautiful woman like you? I can only imagine a small amount of the love you hold.”

“Beautiful? You don’t know what I look like.”

“Oh, please Ms L/N, you’ve been grabbing my attention all night, everywhere I looked, there you were, the light reflecting your beauty. But then an ugly man stood in your way, so I had to send security to escort him out, well throw him out, as you saw.”

Your heart fastens, you were sure it was going to jump out in a second, oh how badly you want to look, but you can’t. This was too much fun. However, this was the way to grab your attention, definitely not like how that man was doing earlier.

“You know how to charm a lady.”

“I try, might I ask, what do you think about the host.”

You let out a small huff of air, ironically this was your line, but now you’re the one being asked, you were at a standstill.

“Jenna? I don’t know, she’s a hard book to read.”

“And you’re good at reading people?”

“The best, but I don’t know, people are scared of her, the most feared women in America.”

Jenna giggles.

“You’re not scared?”

“Hmm, no, mind over matter always, she can have all these weapons and power, but I don’t know her mind, her true mind, so I have nothing to fear.” There was a slight bluff in that line, of-course you were slightly scared of her, who wouldn’t be? But that fear was surface level, just guns and weapons and power.

Though you couldn’t see who you were talking to, you could feel a smile form on their lips, but more of a proud smirk.

“Do you think she’s hot though?”

Okay, now that, that definitely grounded you to reality, that question hit you like a brick, it was so out of place, so unexpected, curious as ever, you finally turn around to greet the other soul aligning with yours.

Jenna. Fuck, y/n you’re so stupid, should’ve turned around earlier, just stay calm.

“Cats got your tongue? Or were you lying about not being scared?”

Both.

She’s wearing an emerald green suit that hugged her curves and angles, leaving the top few buttons undone, with an undone bow tie around her neck.

“No,” letting it out accompanied by a breath out, “I’m just surprised that you would come up to me.”

“There’s a pretty lady at my party, I want to talk to her, I go talk to her.”

“There are other pretty ladies here, and you can’t see half my face, I can’t say the same for you though, the host of a masquerade doesn’t wear a mask? That’s a Pandora’s box.”

Her eyebrows raise, a slight smirk forms before her mouth forms an O, clearly showcasing her tongue poking the side of her cheek.

“A mask means I have secrets, and I, have no secrets, an open book.”

“That’s ironic” you mumble.

“What’s that?”

“You say you have no secrets, but it’s a mission and a half to get an exclusive with you.”

“Journalist?”

“Rising star journalist.” Her eyes squint at your attempt to boost your ego.

“I could give you an exclusive upstairs.” You may be oblivious but you’re not naïve, you play along though, you were exclusive hungry, but you definitely weren’t going to open your legs for her.

“Lead the way.” She offers her hand, and you accept, now with each other’s arms linked, she leads you to an elevator, only accessible by her and her most trusted companions.

“Holy shit that’s Steph and Ayesha Curry!”

“Oh, hahaha yes, they’re close friends of mine, now do you want the Curry’s or the exclusive?”

“Both?”

“Don’t be greedy.”

“You’re the one whisking me away, so you can have me all to yourself.”

“Maybe, but you were the one who asked for something.”

“Touché.

Though there were two of you, the negative space in the elevator was filled with tension, making sure not to make eye contact with the mafia leader.

“You never answered the question, do you think Jenna is hot?”

You lean in, making sure to work her up in all the right places, even placing your hand on her waist.

“Hmm, nope. Desperate? Maybe. But hot? That’s a different story.”

“You’re playing hard to get.”

“Awe, poor baby, it’s tough not getting everything you want.” You flaunt a comedic pout at her but all she does is rolls her eyes.

As the elevators open, your mouth drops in sync with the slides, her penthouse was breath taking, though it was night time, the city lights lit up the room giving it a dark, twilight feel.

“Wow.”

“It’s okay.” She shakes it off.

“Way to be humble.”

“I am rich, sexy, kind, loving and humble.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, your subconscious taking a hold of you as it drags your physical body in.

Jenna starts pouring two glasses of Dom Pérignon for you two to enjoy. Making you laugh because no one had access to this downstairs, yes, downstairs had top shelf drinks, but not Dom, they didn’t have Dom.

A simultaneous “cheers” escapes your mouths as your glasses clink in unison.

“Before I start rambling on about me, tell me about yourself, I want to know you, the true you.”

“That seems fair, well since you already know my name, let’s skip that.” Jenna winks at you. “I never knew what a home was growing up, I was in foster care my entire childhood and teenage years, in many houses, but never homes only leaving the system because I turned 18, I never knew who my birth parents were, nor do I care, I’ve made it through life without them, made something out of myself, made my own name, and that’s when I learnt I could build a home for myself. And I did, I moved here, landed an amazing job at Bayseyes, and the CEO of the company? She’s my lifeline, my saving grace, she is my home. Oh, and uh, my favourite colour is red, evidently.” You smile, looking down at your dress. Making Jenna smile too as she analyses each body part of yours and skin that shows.

“You are one interesting book Ms. L/N.” Jenna darts her eyes to yours, soul to soul, down at your lips and back to your eyes, you know what she wants, she wants you. But doubts ran your mind asking if you want her.

You gasp and take a step back.

“Do you hate me?”

“What?”

“You have a chance with America’s most lusted woman, and you’re turning me down.”

“Okay first of all, that ego of yours, too big, second of all, who says I want this.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Watch it.”

“Watch yourself, like you said everyone fears me, don’t forget how powerful I am.” Her tone sounds awry, evidently you pissed her off, but maybe she deserved it.

No words could leave your mouth after that, maybe then you truly knew her mind, her true mind, and that made answering no to her earlier question even easier, no, you didn’t find her hot, you found her revolting. You mouth a wowww, your eyes widening and your lips purse in, and you swear for a slight second you see Jenna vulnerable; you see her weak.

“I should go, thanks for the drinks though.”

As you turn to leave the elevator doors open, a woman dressed, definitely not for the ball struts in, her scent reeking of desperation.

“Jenna, sugar bear, where have you been. I miss you! What, who’s this slut?”

As if you thought your eyes couldn’t widen anymore, you were wrong. As if Jenna couldn’t get more pissed, you were wrong, the fury in her pupils, your rejection already knocked her off course, she didn’t need a groupie barging in without announcement.

“This slut is about to leave.”

“Good.” Both exclaim.

But before you could turn and leave the doors open again, this time, a very aesthetically pretty lady, 5’5, brunette hair, adorned with layers and tan skin rushes in.

“JENNA, oh my, I’m so sorry, I tried to stop her.”

“No, it’s fine, Viv, she can stay, she, however, was just leaving, please show her the way out.”

She nods and you follow, but before turning your head, you see Jenna land a kiss on the other girl’s cheek, whispering in her ear, you guess it was something along the lines of meeting her in the bedroom, since the pattering legs ran to the bedroom. You don’t care though, it made you sick, that’s all you know.

Before the doors close, Jenna tries one more time, determined not to give up, rejection was something she never knew.

“Leave me with a kiss?”

You let out a slight laugh, almost mocking her, she was everything you were against, how could you open your soul to someone like her.

“No.”

“No?”

“Not when you’re everything I’m against.”

“How so?”

“Well, there’s a glock attached to your lumbar underneath your blazer.”

“Protection.”

You smile.

“Goodbye, Ms. Ortega.”

Viv was there to witness every interaction she could have seen, and wow, she was shocked, she had never seen someone with such fire blow off Jenna like that, she liked you.

“I’m Viv, by the way.” She smiles, offering to shake your hand, you accept.

“Vivian?”

“Vivica!”

“Oh, how pretty, I’m-.”

“Y/N, uh yes, sorry ahah, I know, you’re the talk of the towers.”

“WHAT?”

“Just the staff and guards and the subjects, so uh, maybe the whole Ortega family.”

“Fuck.”

“No, no, we all like you, we find you interesting, we’ve never seen Jenna fiend for someone like that, it was refreshing, but you know, she’s not always like that, the way you saw her, in her penthouse.”

“Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. So, are you like her right-hand man? Woman?”

“Yeah, something like that, I handle mainly the business side, but I could whoop ass if I wanted to, her other right-hand man, the physical, more mafia side is Bruce, he was the guard that threw the guy out, the one who was harassing you.”

“OH! He was sweet, he smiled at me.”

“Lucky you, that means he likes you.”

As you step out the elevators into the main lobby, you can’t help but feel a sense of the unknown, there was lingering fire in you that you couldn’t pinpoint the origin, was it desire? Hatred? Lust? Regret? Hell, maybe even hunger.

“Thank you, Viv.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N, it was very nice to meet you, I hope our paths cross again!”

You hug her and she reciprocates it, just before hopping into your uber to take you home.

As you got home, you had a sense of urgency to write, that electricity was back, you didn’t care about changing or freshening up, the words were flowing out of you and you needed to let it out, you are so sure this is your best work, you want this article published tonight so you type away. You have no control over your fingers, they were doing all the work, you just had to trust them.

… whether it be by her heart, her touch, or her gun, anyone that knows the elusive Ms. Ortega is destined to fall.

Thank you for your support <3 I hope you enjoyed! 🦦

#destined to fall #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader angst #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega x reader smut #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader fluff #lorraine day x reader #lorraine day

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cerayanay · 2 years

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Loved the Annihilation book, just saw the 2018 movie, and thoughts on the ending. Heavily spoilers, partial ending explanation.

The first moment in the movie I stopped and said “Wait, that makes no sense” is the ending when Lena walks on the beach with the glass trees. Up until this moment I followed with a ‘eldritch cosmic horror being unreality” mindset, but this moment stopped me.

Because it made no sense to me that there could be any sort of mutation that results in clear, crystalline forms. This movie hammers in that biology is being disfigured, but not non organic forms; we see the old buildings, the boats are practically untouched, old weaponry is usable. So why now with these trees? Minerals don’t have dna to mutate.

But THEN the movies goes on, and Lena is replicated with a green being. And we see the inside of the lighthouse, the underneath with that shimmer black moving WHATEVER, and the creature itself, which is an iridescent green. Then it all makes sense.

Sand is the largest source of silicon in the world, and silicon is the second most abundant element on earth. Sand is also a primary ingredient in glass. Silicon -> Sand -> Glass -> Glass trees.

This is the best photo I could get of the being underneath the lighthouse, if you’ve seen the movie you know it’s more shimmery, almost liquid, looking identical to the material on the right, which is solid silicon.

Silicon is also used in making computer chips and wafers.

Silicon wafers have a holding, greenish iridescent shimmer as well, much like the being that tries to relocate Lena at the climax.

Here’s the thing about Silicons atomic properties. Silicon has 4 valence electrons, and if you remember grade school chemistry, an unreactive, stable atom has 8. So silicon is semi stable, but would really like to bond with other atoms to achieve 8 valence electrons. This basic concept is what makes it a good semiconductor, or a material that easily allows electrons to move through it. There’s a lot more technical science that has to do with it I’ll cut out, but some elements are ‘injected’ into silicon to manipulate these properties, creating a system that allows electrons/electricity/energy to very very easily run through it. A very popular choice is phosphorous.

I couldn’t get photos of the scene, but Oscar Isaac’s human character self immolates with a PHOSPHORUS grenade. When he destroys himself, it’s a contained, rapid fire that does not spread to his surrounding and dies out fairly quickly. But when the creature is then trapped in a phosphorous blast, it doesn’t dissolve, but continuously burns. The burn doesn’t spread to the regular stone of the lighthouse, but absolutely rips through the underground area and being growing on the side of the lighthouse that the movie has us believe is a living creature, apart of the clone, or obviously at least the same substance that one (aka me) might say is silicon.

Here’s one last thing about silicone properties. The material most related to silicon on the periodic table is carbon.

All known organic life is made of carbon. Period. If it’s alive it’s carbon. Many traits responsible for why carbon makes life possible is shared with other Group 16 elements. Silicon is the closest Group 16 element to carbon. Therefore, it is hypothesized that any non-carbon based life would have to be made of silicon. Many theories and sci-fi stories play with the idea of an alien life being made of silicon is more environments that can accommodate that.

So back to my initial confusion. I was confused as to why the creature, or the shimmer, or whatever force that is responsible for the movie could make clear, crystalline, glass like trees. It’s ability was clearly stated to genetically mutate living things. But I’m arguing that somehow through sci-fi movie reasons, the creature is silicon based life, or become silicon based upon hitting the sand at the beach, then perhaps adapted into carbon based life.

After this scene, when Lena is being interrogated, she is asked ‘Was it carbon based?’ Imma say that is a very, very relevant question, and maybe the entire point of this line of questions. So cool thing the movie did, it all still makes sense.

End credits: the reason we don’t see silicon based life is it would theoretically require an insane amount of energy to sustain. Doesn’t react with this theory but yo it’s a movie they gotta make it work somehow.

#annihilation #annihilation 2018 #southern reach trilogy #area x #natalie portman #jeff vandermeer #alex garland #movie theory #chemistry #movie details #idk man hope anyone cares #almost discussed that on Reddit but I do not like talking to those people

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cyberpunkonline · 11 months

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Cyberspace Sentinels: Tracing the Evolution and Eccentricities of ICE

As we hark back to the embryonic stages of cyber defense in the late 1990s, we find ourselves in a digital petri dish where the first firewalls and antivirus programs are mere amoebas against a sea of threats. The digital defenses of yore, much like the drawbridges and moats of medieval castles, have transformed into a labyrinth of algorithms and machine learning guards in today's complex cybersecurity ecosystem. The sophistication of these systems isn't just technical; it's theatrical.

The drama unfolds spectacularly in the cyberpunk genre, where Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics (ICE) are the dramatis personae. Let's peruse the virtual halls of cyberpunk media to encounter the most deadly, and delightfully weird, iterations of ICE, juxtaposing these fictional behemoths against their real-world counterparts.

We commence our odyssey with William Gibson’s "Neuromancer," where ICE is not only a barrier but a perilous landscape that can zap a hacker's consciousness into oblivion. Gibson gives us Black ICE, a lethal barrier to data larceny that kills the intruding hacker, a grim forerunner to what cybersecurity could become in an age where the stakes are life itself.

CD Projekt Red’s "Cyberpunk 2077" gives us Daemons, digital Cerberuses that gnash and claw at Netrunners with malevolent intent. They symbolize a cyber-Orwellian universe where every keystroke could be a pact with a digital devil.

The chromatic haze of "Ghost in the Shell" offers ICE that intertwines with human cognition, reflecting a reality where software not only defends data but the very sanctity of the human mind.

In Neal Stephenson’s "Snow Crash," the Metaverse is patrolled by ICE that manifests as avatars capable of digital murder. Stephenson's vision is a reminder that in the realm of bytes and bits, the avatar can be as powerful as the sword.

"Matrix" trilogy, portrays ICE as Sentinels — merciless machines tasked with hunting down and eliminating threats, a silicon-carbon ballet of predator and prey.

On the small screen, "Mr. Robot" presents a more realistic tableau — a world where cybersecurity forms the battleground for societal control, with defense systems mirroring modern malware detection and intrusion prevention technologies.

"Ready Player One," both the novel and Spielberg's visual feast, portrays IOI’s Oology Division as a form of corporate ICE, relentless in its pursuit of control over the Oasis, guarding against external threats with a militaristic zeal that mirrors today's corporate cybersecurity brigades.

And let’s not overlook the anarchic "Watch Dogs" game series, where ICE stands as a silent sentinel against a protagonist who uses the city’s own connected infrastructure to bypass and dismantle such defenses.

Now, let us tether these fictional marvels to our reality. Today’s cybersecurity does not slumber; it's embodied in the form of next-gen firewalls, intrusion prevention systems, and advanced endpoint security solutions. They may not be as visceral as the ICE of cyberpunk, but they are no less sophisticated. Consider the deep packet inspection and AI-based behavioral analytics that cast an invisible, ever-watchful eye over our digital comings and goings.

Nevertheless, the reality is less bloodthirsty. Real-world cyber defense systems, as advanced as they may be, do not threaten the physical well-being of attackers. Instead, they stealthily snare and quarantine threats, perhaps leaving cybercriminals pining for the days of simple antivirus skirmishes.

But as the cyberverse stretches its tendrils further into the tangible world, the divide between the fantastical ICE of cyberpunk and the silicon-hardened guardians of our networks grows thin. With the Internet of Things (IoT) binding the digital to the physical, the kinetic potential of cybersecurity threats — and therefore the need for increasingly aggressive countermeasures — becomes apparent.

Could the ICE of tomorrow cross the Rubicon, protecting not just data, but physical well-being, through force if necessary? It is conceivable. As cyberpunk media illustrates, ICE could morph from passive digital barricades into active defenders, perhaps not with the murderous flair of its fictional counterparts but with a potency that dissuades through fear of tangible repercussions.

In the taut narrative of cybersecurity’s evolution, ICE remains the enigmatic, omnipresent sentinel, an avatar of our collective desire for safety amidst the binary storm. And while our reality may not yet feature the neon-drenched drama of cyberpunk's lethal ICE, the premise lingers on the periphery of possibility — a silent admonition that as our digital and physical realms converge, so too might our defenses need to wield a fiercer bite. Will the cyberpunk dream of ICE as a dire protector manifest in our world? Time, the grand weaver of fate, shall unfurl the tapestry for us to see.

- Raz

#cyberpunk #cyberspace #ice

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pilot-posting · 1 year

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🔞 "Asynchrosis" Pt.4

i'm so happy folks are reading and enjoying asynchrosis, this is easily one of my favorite pieces in a while,,,,,, anyway here's your part 4, i can't believe this is 3 nights in a row i've posted at least one part of this stuff,,,

"Lucid Dreams in the Trauma Center."

"Is she gonna' be alright? She's one of the few support pilots in this section of the fleet, we can't have her inoperable should we come under separatist fire." The doctor listened to the lieutenant, shaking his head slowly as she spoke. He was keeled over his desk looking through synapse reports on a collection of holo displays. Like all therapists he was overworked, mech pilots were a needy breed of soldier.

"Lieutenant, I can't assure anything. We've never seen a pilot go into Synchrosis that quick. This condition could be anything from a mild genetic mutation causing synapse reactivity to skyrocket, to a serious health risk related to pilot-mecha neurolink." He stuttered over his words as they tumbled from his lips, "If we put her back in a mechanized infantry suit, she could experience a total synaptic collapse, she could become neurologically dependent on halo connectivity, she could be even worse than other Class-X pilots -- chasing unreasonable, inhumane highs--" The lieutenant stared at him as he spoke, her lip furled on the right and her eye twitched a little on the left, it was clear that she wanted results, not... explanations.

"Find an answer doc, or I'll replace you with someone who will." She walked out, flapping her tailcoat in one swift motion as her hands moved down the zipper at the front of the jacket.

I climbed up the rickety mobile stairs which were placed at the foot of my machine, all the while staring at it's visage, a pink chevron struck into the purple finish of the rest of the machine, it's "faceplate" was a clean, smooth surface. This panel was made up of millions of LED bulb like sensor arrays, it was used to give me, when plugged into the halo port, an incredibly wide field of view to better survey and assess the needs of my squadmates on the battlefield. The stairs terminated at an entry port in between the two large shoulder plates of the mech. These plates contained a variety of medium explosive deployable armaments on a rotary wheel -- enough to bust really any conventional vehicles. I walked into the small space, it was a semi-spherical chamber of pure titanium planted in the upper breast-plate of the mech. This space, called the heart, was the shared containment chambers of the pilot, and also the synapse link drive, which was essentially the most advanced type of computer to have ever been developed.

I stared at the mold I would soon step into, suspended around the fairly innocent seeming system of clasps and locks, was a series of snug fitting silicon carbonate pads, held in open air by robotic arms. The functions mechanic walked into the pod behind me and gave me a wink. I just looked at her excitedly, waiting for her to help me get in. My functions mechanic was a little older than me, 31 to be exact, she had a head full of curly red hair which she was quite fond of wearing up on a ponytail. Today she was wearing a loosely fitting black sleeveless shirt, under it, she wore a sports bra. which covered her adorable B cups. The shirt was tucked into a pair of similarly loosely fitting cargo pants that were suspended by a mechanics belt. She looked rough in the nicest way possible.

"You ready starstrider?" she said with a smirk at me, I couldn't help but giggle a little, I was drunk off lust as the sensory enhancers caused any minor movement around my tip to make me almost quiver from want... this became a problem the moment I saw her, and got so horny I almost came on the spot. Most Class-X pilots have a pavlovian response to their functions mechanics, or handlers. They associate them with being allowed to use their mech, and they will do almost anything for them because of this. Handlers and pilots often form pseudo-romantic relationships, or extremely casual sexual relationships. It's not uncommon on a Galligos ship which carries Class-X pilots to catch handlers and pilots making out in the halls, fingering or stroking eachother, sometimes in private, sometimes in public. Other times you'll see a pilot wrapped around their handlers leg when in public lounges, or wearing little trinkets their handlers ordered for them. I was personally partial to the collar my handler bought me. It was black with silver etching on the side that spelled out her name. It blended in well enough with my bodysuit.

I blinked back to consciousness after imagining her plowing me into the ground with her 8 inch dick later, and nodded at her, "Y-yes ma'am!"

She walked up to me and helped me mount into the mold, applying a simple metal rig device to my bulge which would allow the siphoning liquid to vacuum seal my girldick erect, instead of plastered to my stomach. aside from that she latched all of the major ports to the holes in my body suit, and made sure the bodysuit itself was firmly connected to the airlocks between the port, the bodysuits preplaced entrances, and finally the connecting mechanisms as to prevent wasting siphoning gel. When she got to latching the collection mechanism to the airlock around my tip, she leaned down in front of me and slipped my tip into her soft lips, I couldn't even see her, my face was covered by the auxiliary vision link, a VR system which would allow me to see if my halo link failed. I gasped, and let out a high pitched "Mffffhaaaa~", when I felt her lips run over the small metal ring that formed the airlock when the collection mechanism was connected, I winced and attempted to move, but all I could do was go limp as she slipped my pathetic 5 inches all the way into her mouth. I felt her hands run up along my slutty waist, I couldn't hold it anymore. I immediately shot a load into her mouth, staying incredibly erect. When she finished swallowing it, I felt her head pull back and as she lifted off my girldick she made a cute pop with her lips.

"Naughty girl~ You should save that for the mech." She then roughly attached the collection mechanism to the airlock, causing me to shoot another load into the tube. She smiled at me and pulled the lever beside her, causing the plating to wrap around me, she listened to me moan through her vox channel on our halos as she couldn't hear through the compression plating. I knew she had reached into her pants to stroke herself, and imagining her nonchalantly standing with the lever pulled in her left hand, and her right hand moving up and down her massive dick made me cum again into the collection mechanism. Finally, I felt it start, the siphoning gel was all suctioned up through the tips in the neck in a matter of seconds. The tubes were evacuated from the neck port and instantly, I felt the airlock clasps ram into my neck. I yipped and whimpered into nothingness, once again cum pumping out of me. I felt the sustenance ports extend and directly inject me with liquid water and vitamin paste.

In my head, as if a phantom I heard "Bye bye pretty starstrider~" as the mech finally plugged it's thick fucking neurolink into my halo port. I felt my mind meld and warp, until eventually my eyes began to lie. I could see the hangar around me, oh what a familiar feeling. It was at this point that the stimulus methods were deployed to my body, splayed out and suspended in open air inside the heart. The fleshlights lips wrapping around my tip, then being pushed down to my base. It was designed perfectly for me, I instantly released a fifth load as it started to vibrate and suction onto me, the synthskin being activated in my bodysuit made it feel as if there wasn't even a centimeter of clothing separating my girldick from it's lubricated interior. Shortly after, my ass was stuffed with a lube drenched rectal vibrator, immediately feeling it poke against my g-spot, I winced with anticipation for only a second as it started violently vibrating, I know whatever noise I made as it assaulted me with pleasure, my handler probably enjoyed it thoroughly.

Finally, I was prepared to be given control. The mech was suspended off the hangar floor by a series of deployment racks which held it up by the shoulders. I could feel the claws gripping the mech as if it was my own body. My excited brain caused the vibration in my ass and around my girldick to grow aggressive, I heard the countdown start through my halo-link.

I had already begun to lose my sense of self as I wanted nothing more than to be released,

I yearned for the rush of battle, I wanted to watch separatist reactor cores explode, and tanks be throttled into oblivion by archer missiles.

I thought of infantry, insignificant squirming people, running under my heels.

I lusted for the spill of coolant fluids over my chest, the simulated cold applied to me through my synthskin suit.

My body desired nothing but the cold grip of my rocket pistol, and the orgasmic joy of firing it's payload.

My eyes shot open.

The blue overhead lights shot on and my boxers were soaking wet.

Fuck. Not again.

#brainwashing #mech nsft #nsft #trans nsft #mech pilot #mech posting #mechs #mecha #robot girl #hornyposting #trans t4t #transgirl #Asynchrosis #emersons scrawlings

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huntershowl · 1 month

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@loveheir — katsuki.

❝ HEEEY, THERE HE IS. THE BASTARD himself. ❞ seph's astride their bike with their arms crossed over the handlebars. it's a sleek black machine, custom-built from a vintage skeleton by the engineer who made her arms; over time, it's become something of an extension of herself. another prosthetic limb.

she's been keeping tabs on the media, so the various wartorn conditions of her classmates are not new to her. still, something crosses her face when he actually steps out to meet her, unreadable and stormy. but it passes quick. the biker jacket shields most of her arms from the eye, but her hands are clearly visible — metal and silicone and carbon fiber, intricately built to mimic human hands near-perfectly. minus the sensation of nerves under the skin, of course; she'll never be able to feel with her fingertips and palms, not unless technology jumps thirty years. ❝ didn't think i'd ever see your face again. ❞

#>> IN.#loveheir #>> VERSE ( bnha » student — snake in the garden. )#not technically villainverse just yet so that was the closest verse tag i could think of KJSDHJSKD

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your-darling-gaze · 2 months

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Humming a tune, walking into the empty Stark Laboratory, whistling a tune as I settle down...

'J.A.R.V.I.S, come in, it's playtime...'

Monitor system buzzing, activating processing units...

Evening Ma'am. Feeling Creative, I see. How would you like your ambience, Miss Grace?

'What can I say, J, I'm in the mood for work tonight, Aren't you too? Smiles...Just play whatever Mister Stark has on his playlist...'

Noted. Now Playing- Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones

Going into Creative, Miss Grace...

'Restore all of the last few browsings and display into list, please.'

LAST BROWSINGS:

What are the fundamental principles for designing high-entropy alloys with superior strength, ductility, and corrosion resistance for specific applications?

How can we optimize the microstructure of metallic materials to achieve a balance between strength, toughness, and fatigue resistance for specific applications, such as aerospace and automotive?

How can we ensure the long-term durability and safety of nuclear power plant components, considering the harsh radiation and temperature environments?

What are the environmental impacts of metal extraction, processing, and recycling, and how can we develop sustainable strategies to minimize these impacts?

How can we effectively integrate advanced characterization techniques to understand the degradation mechanisms of metallic components in service, and use this knowledge to improve component life and reliability?

Smiles...

'Thank you, I'll be needing that next...Now give me....sustainable microfibre alloy proportions...'

Very Well. You will now need narrowing down from your records.

Iron-based alloys: Often used in machinery due to abundance and cost-effectiveness.

Nickel-based alloys: Known for high-temperature strength and corrosion resistance, suitable for nuclear components.

Titanium alloys: Lightweight and corrosion-resistant, but expensive. High-entropy alloys: Emerging class of alloys with potential for unique properties.

'Now give the proportions we've considered the last time we looked into our simulators, Only for....the Nickel Based Alloys, make a list...'

Looks over thoughtfully as the list is being formulated...scrolls down the list, switching screens on the holograms...

Monel: A nickel-copper alloy known for corrosion resistance. 63% nickel, between 29% and 34% copper, between 2% and 2.5% iron, and between 1.5% and 2% manganese.

Inconel: A family of nickel-chromium-based alloys, often used in high-temperature applications. 61% nickel, 22% chromium, and 9% molybdenum

Hastelloy: A group of nickel-based alloys with exceptional corrosion resistance in various media. Hastelloy C276, also known as UNS N10276, has the following chemical composition: Nickel (Ni): 57%, Molybdenum (Mo): 15–17%, Chromium (Cr): 14.5–16.5%, Iron (Fe): 4–7%, Tungsten (W): 3–4.5%, Manganese (Mn): 1% maximum, Cobalt (Co): 2.5% maximum, Vanadium (V): 0.35% maximum and Silicon (Si): 0.08 maximum

Incoloy: Nickel-iron-chromium alloys designed for high-temperature applications and resistance to oxidation. Nickel: 38–46%, Chromium: 18–22%, Iron: Balance, Aluminum: 0.3–0.7%, Titanium: 0.15–0.6%, Manganese: 1.5% max, Silicon: 1% max, Carbon: 0.05% max, Sulfur: 0.015% max and Phosphorus: 0.02% max

Smirks, clapping my hands twice, the data reducing to 17 little fragments of hologram, flicking away the unnecessary bits that remain of the non highlighted data...

Data Compiled, Miss.

'Yeah, good... you've been writting down what I've been saying while I was in the simulation unit the other day and today, haven't you...?'

Yes Ma'am.

'Turn all of that, into that research booklet we were asked for, so we can give him what....roughly, an estimated idea of the whole entire suit, merits and demerits, budgeting and assemblance...give him the blueprints too, at the end of it...I have a feeling this one will not... disappoint...'

Working on it, Ma'am.

Runs hands on my face tiredly, waiting for it to compile, drumming fingers onto the table, cracks neck, shifts head...

Report Compiled, Ma'am.

'Good boy, J. You've been a darling, tonight, great help, I can never thank you enough... sometime when you're human, or if...Imma owe you big time.'

No worries, Ma'am. You've been quite amazing to work with as well.

Smiles...

'Let's call it a night, J.A.R.V.I.S...Thank you...Good Night...'

Hologram goes off...

Goodnight Ma'am.

______________________________________

( @tony-starkinator @the-loss-of-my-life )

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unanchored-ship · 6 months

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bug au bug au bug au bug au

omg time to start dumping ideas hrgrfgdhfhdsdf so yeah milo's silicon is a mooth and mine is a termite :3 dunno about the other silicons yet!!

gonna throw this au onto my other ptable ocs :D

my carbon would be a cockroach. its just him...

feel like helium would be a bumble bee

magnesium is a black beetle :o

manganese a praying mantis

hmmm i need to tthink more but for now those bugs are assigned to them

other random idea i have is since moth silicon is attracted to lights they live in cities and towns n stuff and termite silicon can just follow mooth around to find a new place to d e s t r o y see mooth is aware of this but they are literally hypnotized by lights and cant stop themselves from accidentally leading termite to a new play place

so yah

#ptable bug au #silicon #chemistry #atoms #periodic table

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kakita-shisumo · 2 years

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Somebody mentioned the "we are all made of stardust" thing today and it reminded me how much that idea frustrates me. Not because it's wrong, per se, but because it's too simple. It misses out on some of the most important parts of the reality of how our constituent elements got here.

Calling us "stardust" massively understates our connections to the deepest parts of space and time. We're the children of some of the most violent events to ever happen in the universe.

The carbon that makes up every kind of life we know only exists when the heat at a star's core reaches temperatures six times hotter than the core of the Sun, and it is hurled out into the universe from the atmospheres of stars that are heaving their dying breaths.

The iron in our blood comes from a fusion reaction that only triggers when a supermassive star collapses inward, rebounding off of its own core and sending a shockwave slamming into the collapsing outer shell of its atmosphere that sears silicon atoms into radioactive nickel isotopes, burning as much as half the star's remaining mass in the space of a single day. Any elements more massive than iron are born within a single second of that process, in the heart of a supernova explosion, or in the cataclysmic impact of two neutron stars colliding, something that creates echoes in the fabric of space itself that can be heard on the other side of reality.

We are not just stardust. We are phoenixes, born from the ashes of cosmic annihilation. Spacetime carries our birth cries. Our progenitors were blue giants, supernovae, black holes. Stellar systems evaporated to herald our coming. We are what remains on the other side of entropy.

We are celestial fire. Never stop burning.

#cosmology #philosophy #stellar nucleosynthesis #random rant #dust is such a quiet thing #heavy element creation is not quiet #don't be quiet

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magz · 1 year

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The planet Duendi. (magz worldbuilding from 2019)

Inorganic Elements

On this planet called Duendi, there are green puffs of smoke and glittering twinkles suspended in it’s atmosphere. There are clashes of rock formation, usually having an artificial looking matte red and grey surface.

A cool blue light bends and spreads after bouncing around the puffy emerald green and cyan colored clouds that occasionally rain yellow sulphur, and heavy showers of water a couple times a year.

Those clouds are always present as thin floating sheets in the sky. The blue light comes from the white dwarf star 11 light minutes away, the sort of light that got distorted by the filtering skies.

The sky looks like a big tub of moving marbling paint fixed right above everything, a slow but satisfying movement of swirls and ribbons where greens, blacks, light blues, and any other of the frequently changing colors that pierced through the stratosphere at different times of the day.

At the middle of a 65 hour day, just as the white dwarf star would shine brightly upon most of one side of Duendi, the skies would look thinner and less opaque. They would look like the depths of deep, rolling water. Most of Duendi has anywhere from a 60% to 95% humidity rate despite the infrequent water showers, but the ground and the air retain the humid rather well.

Uneven patches of temperature of hot 65 degrees and cold -35 degrees Celsius with subtle shifts between different zones of temperature is like this because of how the water reserves everywhere would absorb and sometimes heat up everything around as a consistent rate when hit by warming light rays.

The feeling was often warm and damp, like a wet thick sweater being worn close to a fireplace.

Organic Elements

Algae loved the humidity of this place. Duendi had plenty of water and other liquids that would pool together in cracks, deep holes, and dips in almost anywhere, but especially the ground.

The algae adapted to the conditions of the planet by taking on a light color and fuzzy edges in parts of Duendi where there was sparse light and a lot of damp dirt and minerals.

The fuzzy edges would bury deep, sometimes like roots, sipping on the rich mineral waters below.

And in the places with an overabundance of water and light rays, the algae came in many different forms, some would float like flat buoyant disks that were dry and hard at the top, some would anchor at the bottom, others would fill themselves up at the edges of the water and inflate. And from those kinds of algae, there was everything in between. They thrived rather well on Duendi.

Why talk so much about such simple creatures? Well, they thrived so well that they make up a lot of things, influenced almost everything, and were certainly on or in a huge chunk of Duendi.

When they bunched up together, depending on the situation they could either:

A) Become brittle and break down into dust, enriching their surroundings.

B) Pack tightly and under the heat and pressure of Duendi’s rock and 3.5G Gravity, become beautiful crystals that often decorated the oldest of formations.

C) Explode in unison upon their death, in hopes of reproducing, often creating rainbows and sometimes becoming a part of the dense atmosphere and clouds.

Over time, different creatures formed, dependent on the oversaturation of algae in the environment to thrive.

“The vegetation” are all short and close to the ground, from round ‘bubbles’, underwater spindly tentacles, spirals that clung tightly to rocks, small beads that flew in the air and burrowed once settled, and so many more.

Many species of vegetation provided more of the silicon, salts, and carbon (dioxide and disulfide and benzene) on Duendi. The green and yellow bubbling plants grew at high heights, the sulfide rains would slide on the crystalline rocky slabs they would pop up on.

Those plants would drip carbon disulfide and absorb the rains, reproducing from the hot liquid that would overflow.

Conscious slimy blobs would eat and sip from these liquids and the plants themselves, digesting them slowly for many planet rotations.

Thinking beings

These are the main thinking beings on Duendi, however ther are more, but they do not have as wide an influence as these two.

--The Asanjei are individual masses of viscous substance and a central nervous system with several, specialized tiny brains branching off inside of them.

They usually bind themselves in soothing bandages made of the fibers of drooping plants that grow close to Duendi’s pools of water, their outer layers of “skin” (a thin layer that forms around the surface of their bodies) are hyper-sensitive to many sensations. That skin works as a protective layer that prevents their insides from moving on their own and it can be uncomfortable to not be bound by woven fibers.

The Asanjei move rather slowly (1.5 miles per hour when they exert themselves), have pre-tensile extended limbs that can retract into their bodies, and have slug-like lower halves. They do not have very specialized developed eyes but they can see with preliminary spots around their upper and middle half that can sense light.

They also have concave spots spread out on their bodies that can perceive forms, as a result, they can “see” at many different angles like an extreme and somewhat blurry fish-eye lense as a result of the many inputs getting filtered through a couple of their tiny “brains” to have a complete image.

They can secrete poisonous liquids from their skin as a result of eating poisonous plants that they build immunity towards, starting from when they are basically toddlers.

They reproduce by using a “host” as a receptacle, which can be the corpse of a fleshy meal in rare occasions (it’s seen in bad taste to do that) or as is more common -- using the warm fibers of trees and plants that grow close to them, and their nutrients left inside after many Asanjei members of age deposit reproductive materials. After a few rotations, in the Duendi equivalent of spring and fall, Asanjei pupas will come out and be cared for.

They have 4 “genders”: they can be translated as spade, sphere, leaf, and fire. Anything from their receptacle’s temperature, the kind of nutrients they absorb, the climate, and anything else from before they are born chooses what gender they are.

The way the different genders are distinguished between each other are through markings on their bodies and the colors they are. Their genders do not fundamentally change what they are capable of doing nor their organ’s functionality except through their culture’s expectations, variation in hormonal discharges, and who they are allowed contact with (only their own gender) until they grow up as adolescents before they are fully matured.

Spades and Spheres are focused on physical exertion to get closer to their higher powers, Spades use tools more often, with Spheres more likely to be bare besides their bindings.

Leaf and Fire are both covered a lot more for social conventions to allow for longer periods of reflective meditation and rituals without risking their skins, Leafs usually grow out spindles and tubes of gelatinous masses that serve aesthetic functions and can rarely act as extra limbs when they reach older age, and Fires are likely to focus on the teaching aspects of religion.

Though this might seem as rather superficial or that it could heavily affect the kinds of jobs they get in society, any gender is capable of getting any job, however the way they are expected to act in the roles they get heavily relies on their genders, with certain methods and handicaps expected for each gender and how they act when doing jobs.

For example, if a leaf Asanjei becomes a warrior, they are still expected to wear a lot of bindings and grow out (often vistigial) appendages, and as a result they have to pin those appendages in place so as to not get in the way and be careful not to overheat and are allowed to have more access to water than their different gendered warrior peers.

There are 2 main cultural categories of Asanjei, that are defined by their location.

The ones from Northern Duendi close to swamps and wetlands, that often live in the waters. They see the waters as holy and it is a rite of passage for a young Asanjei to be allowed to swim and practice their religious rituals in the large body of water their settlement was built around.

They grow from their pupal stage (they are like balls of viscous slime with big faux eyes and thick “skin” and stubby limbs. Their appearance is similar to a pupal earth bee.) where they’ll have to be protected by an assigned “wet mistress” (like a temporary adoptive parent) until they metamorph to their final adult form after becoming much bigger and then hibernating for about 15 Duendi days.

While hibernating, they are protected several at a time in cool-aired huts close to the large body of water, and tended to by several wet mistresses.

The coming of age ritual is very important as the waters they are dipped in for the first time decide their role in later stages in life, like whether they are a priest, sanitations worker, wet mistress, warrior, food preparer, “manager”, teacher, etc.

The ones from West Duendi’s sweltering deserts wear more varieties of bindings and clothing to protect them, and rely on tool-making for survival.

There are 15% more spades in Western Asanjei populations than in Northern ones. They are a nomadic culture unlike the Northern Asanjei. Western Asanjei are raised in groups with many children being raised by many adults. They eat much more meats and other slimes moreso than plants (2 to 1 ratio), with exception of poisonous plants they consume to produce their own poison.

Early in life, they are taught various skills for survival and it’s mandatory for young Asanjei to cycle between different groups of adults with different roles, so that they learn from as many groups before maturing. However, they are not expected to have strong emotional connections until they grow up and are urged to focus on personal development instead.

Despite being more “community” driven overall, young Asanjei are given different treatment and expectations to the point that they will not know how it really is to be a “part of a family” until they grow up, so they generally do not get attached to any specific group or individual as by the time they are adults those adult members that raised them often die or are no longer a part of their trade.

There is a lot of importance given towards broadening their knowledge. Once they metamorphose they are expected to choose their roles themselves and are taken under the wing of an adult with a workshop for hundreds of rotations until they become independent, get to choose a more permanent group of the community to be a part of, and are allowed to participate in creating Asanjai pupas.

--Purple Jains. As their name implies they are purple, but not from their own pigmentation. It’s from eating and rubbing against purple spores that grow around Southern and Western Duendi.

Their actual color is a very dark blue that borders on black, with grey flesh and skin. The spores help distinguish between them more and they use them to make markings on themselves, that can have many meanings between what time of year it is like holiday wear, when they were born, their religious affiliation, and so on.

The spores also prevent parasites from getting on their skin. They are very small and often form beneficial relationships with other organisms, even the Asanjei. The average full-grown Purple Jain is 25 inches tall, have many thousands of spindly feathers that aeriate heat through miniscule tube structures that are a part of the feather, have two long triple jointed legs that are good for jumping and assisting in swimming whenever needed, and 4 arms attached to insect-like sections to their abdomen that swivel as much as 80 degrees independently of each other.

They have sharp chiseled beeks and blunt teeth inside their mouths. And they have a long strip of an “eye” above their beeks that can sense visible light and part of uv rays emitted by the white dwarf star, useful for finding prey rich in nutrients -- those that usually bounce more uv rays in Duendi.

They don’t have societies that vary heavily from each other besides small variations of their main form of communication (dialects of language), they migrate often and keep constant tabs on each member of their race.

They have a fast and efficient hub of communication between each branch of Purple Jains. Their language is modular and easy to learn for young Purple Jains. Adult Purple Jains make the babies and toddlers absorb the meanings of various noises, scratches, symbols, and smoke signals in the way they communicate as part of how they are raised.

When a purple jain dies, for 3 days (around an earth week) they are mourned and given ceremonies of respect with their bodies covered, plants and objects are then presented around their covered bodies signifying how they were in life or what they could have been, and then they are stripped and spread where they originally died or where they used to live. Where a purple jain is buried or spread, purple flowers (buds of circular shapes) bloom.

They are formed from a mixture of the nutrients of the Purple Jain’s corpse, their remaining unused energy before dying if any, and the spores that had become a part of their bodies and mutated in the Purple Jains’ presence to last longer on their bodies and survive. Those flowers are seen as the continuation of the purple jain’s spirit, and their buds are eaten on days of rememberance that happen every time the white dwarf star aligns with the Southern or Western Duendi skies to create rippling sky phenomenons (about every 3 to 8 earth months). Purple jains do not have specialized roles or genders and are a jack of all trades. They are able to communicate with many species by imitating their sounds, body languages, and the smells of other creatures. They hunt, bathe, court, eat, nurse, and procreate entirely dependent on the time of day and season.

In other words, everything has a set time to be done, and synchronization and pre-planning is what makes them strong as a sense of community and as force, besides their adaptability in forming symbiotic relationships with other native beings.

They are born as tinier, featherless versions of adults with softer membranes and only 2 developed sections of their abdomens instead of 3 with rudimentary stubs for their second set of arms. The babies are carried around by their parents that gave birth to them through sexual reproduction, and are taught to hunt very early on, immediately after they learn how to communicate and understand their language.

Purple jains always keep tabs of their frequency of hunting and the number of prey as to not have too little later on and complicate their matters. If a purple jain over-hunts or hunts when it is not time to, then they are punished, punishment can be anything from cutting a limb, being buried for a whole Duendi day, or being killed.

The bodies of traitorous Purple Jains are also given respect and ceremonies through their rituals, but they are not given as much respect to be buried where they died or lived in unlike their non-traitorous counterparts, and instead are dumped in special graves for “the damned”. The flowers born of those bodies are not allowed to be consumed, it is believed they are somehow twisted. and are instead used for religious purposes to be burned and exume evil 4 times a Duendi year to re-new energies.

Locations

In the Northern wetlands, beyond heavy fogs, lies a sparkling natural fountain with a sparkling bluish liquid that absorbs the energy of spirits and the rays of the white dwarf star, such that it is protected by the Asanjei as a politically and religiously important ground. The Northern Asanjei have a monopoly on the consumption of the liquid, nicknamed “the star’s tears”.

They enforce and protect the sparkling liquid by any and all means, making it impossible to touch it without permission without dying. Once the liquid is consumed, they can transform the individual into a stronger, semi-immortal being whose frame of thought and understanding is forever changed (“enlightenment”).

The issue with this is that the one who consumed are often inclined to separate themselves from their own societies to do the bidding of the One Entity and not necessarily do what was previously in their or their species’/culture’s best interest. It is rare for someone to be allowed to consume The Star’s Tears because of how they lose themselves, especially if weak-willed, and can be a serious threat. Regardless, there are fanatics that desire to one day be allowed access to it, whether for financial gains or to threaten the current status quo or to be strong enough to protect what they hold dear.

Large bodies of water that western Asanjei settlements worship and hold dear have a very, very diluted version of the star’s tears. That’s why those bodies of water are closed off and a part of Asanjei property. Asanjei members (and other species even) are sometimes sacrificed or punished by being fed to the fountain, absorbing their life and dying as a fodried husk.

-The millenium trees. These are located in East Duendi, and make it hard to inhabit the East as they attract chaos and death. Millenium trees are the only “real trees” on Duendi and are several thousands of years old. Under their soil and roots, they all connect to one point, towards the sleeping chamber of an unspoken entity that warps and crafts many aspects of Duendi in their slumber. No one is aware of this, nor are they allowed to by the many anomalies that appear in these several hundred of thousands of miles of woods.

-”Eternal fire pit”. It’s not actually eternal and they are not one specific place. These fire pits are located in southern, northern, central, and western duendi as several sepearate spaces that connect to each other as an interconnected hub of fire (which is why they may be referred to as one place) and continually fuel burning. Useful for survival to find these fire pits.

Sensor anomalies

The spirit is just as it sounds, it is a form of you beyond your fleshy body. All inhabitors of Duendi have spirit, spirit cannot be completely destroyed or created, they are basically recycled between each other bit by bit like matter and energy. It is strong enough to allow life and consciousness, and to allow the existence of magic.

Magic is quite simple on Duendi, the limit is how much spirit you have access to and there are limitations of how much can be used by one mortal at a time, as well as per lifetime.

With this in mind, anything from using up your own limited spirit until you die or lose consciousness, to sacrificing others, or using material with a lot of spirit accumulated… are allowed.

Magic is dangerous and risky, so it is not uncommon to restrict it’s usage in cultures. Magic is capable of healing, destruction, re-construction, and combination/reaction.

Something that’s practical to be achieved by the average lifeform, assuming they would be allowed to use magic, would be to create an explosion of a 15 yard radius as destruction for one “spell”; capable of re-constructing a blasted limb up to a foot long; Heal one individual’s severe burn wounds; or make two otherwise non-reactive elements combine into a concentrated rich edible food that can fuel any organism for up to a week… before losing consciousness.

Duendi is home to The One Entity Being a mass of old spirit that never dissipated and has it’s own will, a great deal of power and influence due to it’s mass collection of spirit that keeps replenishing itself once spirit is used for magic by others or spirit is left unguarded / unclaimed and it decides to make that spirit a part of itself. It is so huge and enormous as a mass that would be hard to imagine and quantify for us, and it would virtually + practically never run out of spirit to use for magic even if it tried.

Limitations of magic usage are not in place for The One Entity Being, as it has enough spirit and does not count as one consciousness / lifetime / individual such that it circumvents those conventions.

The One Entity is the closest thing to a g-d that Duendi has. It is hard to understand it’s reasoning and self-interest, it can be benevolent or rather cruel with living inhabitants of Duendi, and the only thing known for sure is that it wants to keep existing for as long as it can.

#very long #duendi #my words #text post #o post

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whatudottu · 1 year

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Me, remembering that pill bugs can filter heavy metals from soil:

My brain: You know what this means, don’t you?

Me: What-

My brain: You can make talpaedans part pill bug-

Me, working on amperi headcanons: Wait LET ME FINI-

I’ve gone over a few times that I like to think that talpaedans are techno-organic, less so being silicon or silicone based beings but being an integration of organic carbon materials and the more industrialised physiology of being a walking talking construction equipment. I have also previously made use of the whole ‘machine’ aspect of their natural biology to not only consider them as burrowers, but also as ant-like burrowers with haplodiplody, this form of sex-determination system being used to expand the combinations of construction equipment that an individual talpaedan might have, but also as a basis of which I form the sociopolitical building of talpaedan cities, in which case we have large city state colonies of ant inspired pangolins recreating feudalism Europe of the 10th-13th century.

But up - until this point - there was not quite a lot of circumstances that would allow for actual metallic components to not only present itself biologically but also do so naturally, so with the heavy metal eating pill bug there’s a source of extra inspiration. Oniscidae (apparently the more accurate name for pill bugs/rollie pollies and literally any name under the sun) can remove arsenic (which is actually a metalloid), cadmium, lead, and depending on sources also mercury from the soil; additional metals that can be extracted from soil are copper and zinc. The pill bug in question would crystallise these ions in their gut and create spherical deposits within them, but since we are not talking about the isopod alone surely it isn’t too much of a stretch to the idea that perhaps talpaedans can use these deposits within themselves to feed into the development of their most notable features, their built in equipment?

Assuming that Poiana Lüncas has these metals and that talpaedans would in fact filter for them, in real world human employed Earth uses of these metals can indeed be of fine use. Both arsenic and cadmium can be used as alloys and zinc specifically can galvanise other metals such as iron to prevent rusting, very significant indeed in industry, notably especially with large amounts of zinc can be used in hardware industries. Copper has a very notable use in electronics and wiring of which motors are included, let alone more refined wiring in TVs and radio. And argueably the more infamous of these metals (at least to a standard ‘basic’ level of understanding) we have mercury and lead, the former being used in many different industries for it’s ability to measure the change in temperature and pressure, and the latter for some solders, gasoline/petroleum and wonderfully hazardous cosmetic items that uninformed humanity has come to be harmed by.

ngl, spent a bit of time trying to find an oxygen-carrier of these metals that can feasibly make black blood but i literally do not know if the colour of oxides is in any way relevant to how oxygen-carrier bloodcells would actually be coloured as i’m not a chemist

But in highlighting these metals, I am not simply looking to see if a techno-organic talpaedan can have galvanised armour nor if they come built in with blood pressure monitors. No no no, I am saying more than what talpaedans eat but also what metals can talpaedans have easy access to in the development of technology, and how one might say that actually interacts with the ant-psychology of utterly fucking despising other colony.

Well-

Let’s say that google might be a little concerned about me learning about elements used in the construction of ammunition and radiation protection ehek-!

With the earth tilling that many developing talpaedans need to incorporate necessary metals into their diet, depending on the availabilty of said metals they may be an over abundance for food alone; especially with the pressure of competition of resources in combination with a general disdain for anything extracolonial, a factor that may lead to an escalation of tech development. There is an inherent baseline for technology in talpaedans that would already give their industrialisation a boost, in addition to the materials that may vary on quantity based on the region, colony size, and general population needs. Before long there are city states reinforcing their own barriers and expanding their borders for more and more materials - to consume and to create - to in fact increase and increase the tension between colonies so loud to the point pressure spills like a broken thermometer spills mercury and conflicts arise.

And when everything boils over do they realise that many have to balance the act of raising young and building more weapons, the factor that may in fact be the tipping point to realise that the colonies with the most resources are not only a threat but a threat that can overwhelm on the technological scale and the population number. In spite of how many colonies may indeed hate each other, it is more than worth it to them to compromise and in fact LIVE rather than be caught between the suddenly unveiling superpowers of the world that had previously lay unknown thanks to willful ignorance. Decimation of land is significantly reduced from cataclysmic to catastrophic as entire colonies are rased and in fact dug out into craters, many war-era alliances held to the modern day of Poiana Lüncas. A tithing - remnants of the treaties formed at the peak of desperation - of the youngest generation of adult men stands as both tradition and of appeasement, a colony trade and marriage across many different colonial alliances as a symbol of what had to be done before, sharing resources and rearing while the soldiers fought to live.

And all of this because they got a pill bug diet see this is why ants aren’t allowed to have materials for megaton bombs smh 😞

#talpaedan #poiana lüncas #ben 10 #xenobiology #xenosociology #should i tag war? because this became war by the end of this?#ask to tag #bestie why is it when i plan out an idea it takes forever to post #then when i suddenly remember heavy metal eating pill bugs i just write an entire post fresh onto a tumblr page?#have i not learnt? from the one time tumblr ate my entire post about a compilation of my petropia petrosapien ideas?#well i guess not because this was off the cuff plus sudden research #as a bonus again i don't know my chemistry but unless talpaedans don't breathe/need oxygen specifically #they could have a rather rare lead oxide for blood oxygen-carrier or a cuprate oxide oxygen-carrier #if i'm not completely and utterly fucking wrong because hemoglobin is an iron oxygen-carrier and iron oxide is reddish #really don't know about any other hemo stuff but i guess hemocyanin in copper but it's also blue so idk lmao #could also just be a LOT of iron like ferro fluid iron or somethin #or like straight up oil like idk how do you find out blood colour for fictional aliens #i know i found biological basis for techno-organisms and basis for being so fucking war torn #bestie i have no clue

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