#inhuman centipede

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Coprophagic AI crisis

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A key requirement for being a science fiction writer without losing your mind is the ability to distinguish between science fiction (futuristic thought experiments) and predictions. SF writers who lack this trait come to fancy themselves fortune-tellers who SEE! THE! FUTURE!

The thing is, sf writers cheat. We palm cards in order to set up pulp adventure stories that let us indulge our thought experiments. These palmed cards – say, faster-than-light drives or time-machines – are narrative devices, not scientifically grounded proposals.

Historically, the fact that some people – both writers and readers – couldn't tell the difference wasn't all that important, because people who fell prey to the sf-as-prophecy delusion didn't have the power to re-orient our society around their mistaken beliefs. But with the rise and rise of sf-obsessed tech billionaires who keep trying to invent the torment nexus, sf writers are starting to be more vocal about distinguishing between our made-up funny stories and predictions (AKA "cyberpunk is a warning, not a suggestion"):

https://www.antipope.org/charlie/blog-static/2023/11/dont-create-the-torment-nexus.html

In that spirit, I'd like to point to how one of sf's most frequently palmed cards has become a commonplace of the AI crowd. That sleight of hand is: "add enough compute and the computer will wake up." This is a shopworn cliche of sf, the idea that once a computer matches the human brain for "complexity" or "power" (or some other simple-seeming but profoundly nebulous metric), the computer will become conscious. Think of "Mike" in Heinlein's *The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Moon_Is_a_Harsh_Mistress#Plot

For people inflating the current AI hype bubble, this idea that making the AI "more powerful" will correct its defects is key. Whenever an AI "hallucinates" in a way that seems to disqualify it from the high-value applications that justify the torrent of investment in the field, boosters say, "Sure, the AI isn't good enough…yet. But once we shovel an order of magnitude more training data into the hopper, we'll solve that, because (as everyone knows) making the computer 'more powerful' solves the AI problem":

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

As the lawyers say, this "cites facts not in evidence." But let's stipulate that it's true for a moment. If all we need to make the AI better is more training data, is that something we can count on? Consider the problem of "botshit," Andre Spicer and co's very useful coinage describing "inaccurate or fabricated content" shat out at scale by AIs:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4678265

"Botshit" was coined last December, but the internet is already drowning in it. Desperate people, confronted with an economy modeled on a high-speed game of musical chairs in which the opportunities for a decent livelihood grow ever scarcer, are being scammed into generating mountains of botshit in the hopes of securing the elusive "passive income":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Botshit can be produced at a scale and velocity that beggars the imagination. Consider that Amazon has had to cap the number of self-published "books" an author can submit to a mere three books per day:

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/sep/20/amazon-restricts-authors-from-self-publishing-more-than-three-books-a-day-after-ai-concerns

As the web becomes an anaerobic lagoon for botshit, the quantum of human-generated "content" in any internet core sample is dwindling to homeopathic levels. Even sources considered to be nominally high-quality, from Cnet articles to legal briefs, are contaminated with botshit:

https://theconversation.com/ai-is-creating-fake-legal-cases-and-making-its-way-into-real-courtrooms-with-disastrous-results-225080

Ironically, AI companies are setting themselves up for this problem. Google and Microsoft's full-court press for "AI powered search" imagines a future for the web in which search-engines stop returning links to web-pages, and instead summarize their content. The question is, why the fuck would anyone write the web if the only "person" who can find what they write is an AI's crawler, which ingests the writing for its own training, but has no interest in steering readers to see what you've written? If AI search ever becomes a thing, the open web will become an AI CAFO and search crawlers will increasingly end up imbibing the contents of its manure lagoon.

This problem has been a long time coming. Just over a year ago, Jathan Sadowski coined the term "Habsburg AI" to describe a model trained on the output of another model:

https://twitter.com/jathansadowski/status/1625245803211272194

There's a certain intuitive case for this being a bad idea, akin to feeding cows a slurry made of the diseased brains of other cows:

https://www.cdc.gov/prions/bse/index.html

But "The Curse of Recursion: Training on Generated Data Makes Models Forget," a recent paper, goes beyond the ick factor of AI that is fed on botshit and delves into the mathematical consequences of AI coprophagia:

https://arxiv.org/abs/2305.17493

Co-author Ross Anderson summarizes the finding neatly: "using model-generated content in training causes irreversible defects":

https://www.lightbluetouchpaper.org/2023/06/06/will-gpt-models-choke-on-their-own-exhaust/

Which is all to say: even if you accept the mystical proposition that more training data "solves" the AI problems that constitute total unsuitability for high-value applications that justify the trillions in valuation analysts are touting, that training data is going to be ever-more elusive.

What's more, while the proposition that "more training data will linearly improve the quality of AI predictions" is a mere article of faith, "training an AI on the output of another AI makes it exponentially worse" is a matter of fact.

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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/14/14/inhuman-centipede#enshittibottification

Image: Plamenart (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Double_Mobius_Strip.JPG

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #ai #generative ai #André Spicer #botshit #habsburg ai #jathan sadowski #ross anderson #inhuman centipede #science fiction #mysticism

[aka-indulgence]

Something on the Graveyard Wall

Hey are you interested in kissing a Ravioli? Because I want to kiss a Ravioli. Here’s my version of a first meeting :b

(Ravioli x F!Reader No content warnings)

—————

It was a brisk night. You shuddered as you tucked your scarf back around you. The weather’s been steadily cooling over the past month, but it’s really started to bite you.

I wish I brought a hat with me… you thought, as the wind brushed your hair. You grip onto the bag and trudge forward.

Your lips twist when you approach the old graveyard. It was one of those graveyards that’s been around for hundreds of years. During the day you do feel the somber air, sometimes you’ve seen people with black umbrellas visiting on rainy days, but at night you just want to walk past it as fast as possible. The nice thing is, the Bad Vibes™ from it seem to deter most people from it, so strangely, its one of the safest ways home.

You’ve walked by countless times, but you always feel your hair stand whenever you walk past it, especially in front of the wrought iron gates that always seemed to creak whenever you weren’t looking. This night you were especially unsettled- the moon was full and high in the sky, the clouds obscured it, and there almost looked to be a mist in the graveyard.

You keep your eyes in front of you while you pass the gates, the graveyard now covered by a tall wall. You start to relax a bit when you find a strange shadow on the ground.

Your walk comes to a stop as you observe it, from a distance. It was a curved shape, long. That’s not normal. You don’t know why you have a strange sense of premonition when your eyes trail up to where it’s coming from and-

… What is that.

A man? Person? Creature? Was standing on top of the graveyard wall. Two bright, mismatched yellow eyes watched you from within its hoodie. It didn’t… look like there was a face obscured by the shadows, all you saw was darkness behind those eyes.

Something tells you this thing is probably not human! Hahaha!

Your eyes widened and your grip on your bag became deathly.

Its eyes were piercing you.

What is… what is that?! You ask again in your mind, doing your best not to scream. You think- you think your friends talked about different cryptids, but you didn’t like listening to them. You were spooked enough, living near the old graveyard, you didn’t need any stories living rent free in your head to whisper you threats that probably didn’t exist. Except this one, apparently.

You think you’ve heard of this creature, he was pretty popular with the townsfolk, you’ve heard of someone mentioning their grandpa of seeing it back in the 70s, you think. The “smiler”? “Mouth”? “The centipede”?

Inhumanely tall and lanky, jacket wearing… thing, with stitched sleeves and a completely void-black face, save for two eyes. Sounds about right.

Now you wished you had a list of all the cryptid “dos and donts” you’ve heard your friends talk about. What was it you’re supposed to do… don’t look at it? Or was it to nod your head at him and ask ‘how’s the weather, mr. jaws?’? No- wait, that’s for Mr. Jaws, obviously…

You were stuck in a staring contest with it. Your eyes feel dry. The ‘smiler’ blinks its eyes incongruously. You sweat, not knowing if this is making things worse.

You try to pretend that he’s just a weirdly shaped lamp post and start speed-walking, but then- were you supposed to stay still like a statue until it moves on? Or was that for another creature?

You almost start to a sprint when you see it move.

“E-EEeeee!!” you freeze. It comes down arms first, stretching down to the ground, its body sliding down the wall behind it. It falls into a heap on the ground for a few seconds… then its legs and arms together push it up back into standing, stretching and bending in ways that make it look like it didn't have joints. Or bones.

You tremble as it rises to its full height- must be more than twice of you! It looks like it doesn’t have much support to stand on, wobbling ever so slightly. It regards you with… curiosity?

It doesn’t react. Standing in your way from a peaceful, monster-free walk home.

Your mouth tastes sour. You can’t tell if you’re shivering because of the cold or him.

“H… hello?” You greet, hoarsely.

Were you supposed to talk to it? Or was this one of the monsters you should never try to speak with it?

The Smiler’s head rolls to the side like a ball, like something with no neck would be capable of. Its hands hang under him, close to the ground.

It makes a sound you can only describe as “???”

It lifts its hand towards you.

Nope nope nope nope, you stressed in your head as you stumbled back and away from it, but its other hand snatches you around your upper arm.

You squeak as you’re pulled under the towering creature, it’s long arms becoming liquid and stretching in various ways. It leans forwards, curling in a U-shape to be closer to your eye level; which means he’s twisted directly above your head, and you have to tilt your face up to look at him in the eyes.

Your throat tightens and your breath comes out in little puffs. Are you… supposed to scream now? Can you?

Its other hand reaches for your face. You want to smack it away, but your body is filled with cement, and you can’t move. You squeeze your eyes shut as it approaches and… pokes your cheek.

You blink an eye open. Its freed your arm now, and is starting to poke, prod… and pinch your cheeks. All the while its pupils grow in its eyes.

“... soft.”

“Uh… h-huh??”

Its eyes drift down to the bag pinched under your arm. And all of a sudden, both its too-long arms with too-sharp fingers are rummaging through your bag.

“What the- hey!”

It pulls out two things. One of them a little mint you got from work, and another your lipstick.

“Put that back!”

It blinks when you snatch the lipstick out of its hand (You’re not letting it play with your good lipstick!), but doesn’t seem to mind, instead turning its attention to the mint. You lean away as it tears the wrapping apart, and flings the candy into its hood.

You don’t… see a mouth… but you definitely hear him chewing.

Its eye widens, turning a softer, more orange yellow, curving into a happy shape.

“hee…… hehehe…”

Somehow, it both sounds like a young boy and an unfathomably ancient creature. Giggling playfully, but in a way that sounded like you were the toy.

It turns its eyes back towards you and leans closer. You grimace.

“U-um- do you want more? You can have more!” you chuckle nervously, reaching around for your second mint, presenting it to him. It stares at it for a moment, then takes it out of your hand with its long, spindly fingers. It brushes over your palm, and you do your best to hide your shudder. It looks at the mint like you’ve given it a precious treasure, then back at you.

You sidestep your way around it and bring your hands up in surrender. “W-well, I hope you like it, but I have to go home now, so- bye!”

You spun around and walked away, taking steps as big as you could possibly manage, all the while feeling those eyes bore a hole in your back. The ‘very normal walk’ turns into a sprint once you’ve turned a corner. You couldn’t get home any sooner.

… The creature stands where you left it, bent (more like curled) over, holding the mint in its hand. It turns away from the corner you left and back at the candy.

It pokes it, then rubs its fingers together, where it touched you. A smile emerges from the darkness of its face, and its eyes turn red.

“... pretty……”

#ravioli oc #i love him x2 #dont worry about him hes just a funny lamp post that wants to pinch your cheeks #very normal #aka writing

[cherienymphe]

Sibling Rivalry (Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon II Targaryen)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, incest, loss of virginity, jealousy, arranged marriage, cuckolding, infidelity, Velaryon!Reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ ​​​​​​​​|  ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics​​

summary: Aemond had claimed your first kiss, and your hand in marriage……but Aegon had claimed your body.

~

You never believed your cousin Rhaenyra to be capable of cold-blooded murder.

No matter what your parents believed, no matter what you overheard as a child, you just could not find it in you to fall prey to such rumors. You had heard all of the whispers, of course, regarding her sons’ true parentage, but Laenor’s love for them was evident for all to see. Rhaenyra’s love for him was just as obvious…so no.

You did not believe that she had your brother killed.

Your mother did not quite agree.

You came along much later than your siblings, the same age as Laena’s own daughters at her funeral. You remembered Laenor’s grief, and you recalled your guilt at your lack thereof. Laena had long married Daemon and had left Driftmark when you came along, so you did not know her as well as you would have liked. However, you did mourn the loss of a relationship that was never given the chance to flourish.

You had then hoped that Laenor would be around more, and perhaps he would fill in the gaps where memories of Laena should have been. You had hoped for that, but then he’d “died”, and your mother blamed Rhaenyra. The brief hope that you might have been married off to Jacaerys Velaryon died too, and you were forced to accept that it would never happen.

Especially so once your trips to King’s Landing became more frequent.

“She only has her brothers,” you had sadly murmured to your mother one day, playing with some flowers you had plucked. “…and you mustn’t tell the queen, but I do not think she likes her mother very much.”

You saw a lot of yourself in Helaena Targaryen. Quiet, fragile, and so painfully alone. Each departure became harder and harder as the fair skinned girl clung to you each time, her brothers frowning at her behavior. You suppose that she saw you somewhat like a sister, and you could not deny that you saw her the same in some ways.

It was the queen herself who proposed the idea of taking you on as her ward.

Driftmark was supposed to pass to you, should have passed to you, but your parents knew that you did not want it. You were happy to let your niece take it instead when the time came, more than content to live at King’s Landing with the sweet Helaena. Her brothers had never been taken into consideration.

Perhaps they should have.

After all these years, it still amazed you how all three were raised under the same hand, and yet walked the corridors so differently. The contrast between Helaena’s sweet nature and Aegon’s cruelty made your head spin. Looking back, it seemed almost inhumane to marry them, even if only for the sake of blood purity. It was not until years later when you discovered just how cruel he could be, but by then, it was too late.

For both Helaena…and you.

Aegon and Aemond fought more often than not, but on those occasions where they saw eye to eye, whoever was on the receiving end of their cruelty was granted your greatest sympathy. Aegon was quick to anger, and slow to forgive. Aemond was bold, wild, willful, hot-tempered…and unforgiving. Quite the pair they made, and no one avoided them in the beginning as much as you did.

Yet no one else seemed appeal to their baser instincts…as much as you did.

“Beware the dragon who is already claimed,” Helaena had whispered one day.

You were outside with her, sitting at her side as she studied the centipede that crawled along her skin. You had looked up with a hum, used to her ramblings and cryptic whisperings by now. Her eyes were not on you, but you could still see the heaviness in them as you asked her what she meant. She was quiet for what felt like a long time before repeating herself.

“Beware the dragon who is already claimed,” she sadly whispered again.

You had frowned slightly, not quite understanding what she meant, and she offered no further explanation. Deep in thought, you did not take note of the approach of her newly husband, Aegon’s presence casting a dark cloud over you both as he inquired on his brother’s whereabouts. Neither of you had the answer he wanted, and you did not like how dismissive he was of his sister.

So disgusted with him, you had looked away, missing the parting glance he threw over his shoulder.

You had missed so many things.

Aegon’s watchful gaze from afar had never registered to you. Why would it? You were always at Helaena’s side, and there was no oddity in a husband watching his wife. You did not question it at the dinner table, in the throne room, and not even outside when you helped Helaena look for a new creature to care for. He was always there in the shadows, watching over what you believed to be his wife.

His own interest unfortunately attracted another.

Aemond was less discreet, purposely so. He’d always been bold, and no one was more taken aback than you at the gradual shadow you’d seemed to acquire. You were foolish to think it was innocent, the same protective nature that he had for Helaena. It had made sense to you then. Growing up in King’s Landing at their side, why would he not see you in the same light as he saw his sister?

Despite how nervous Aemond made you sometimes, he became the only one to take your concerns for Helaena seriously.

“He is not good to her,” you tearfully sneered one day, pacing your chambers. “You must say something to him.”

Aemond’s watchful gaze did not leave you once as you voiced your worry over what you had seen. A bruise on her arm that was so ugly it made your stomach churn. There was no question in your mind as to who was at fault.

“It isn’t so bad,” she’d said to you one evening. “Mostly he just ignores you…except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

Tears filled your vision at the memory of those words. Aegon’s reputation was no secret these days, and your skin crawled with the thought that Helaena had to sleep next to such an animal every night. You’d been so lost in your thoughts that you did not take notice of Aemond’s footsteps until his hands were already on your arms.

You reluctantly looked at him, swallowing.

Sometimes the younger prince looked at you in such a way that terrified you. It had been that way for years, and the weight of his gaze had gotten no lighter. Watching, watching, watching. He was always watching, and you had long given up on trying to decide if it was the look of a protector or that of a warden.

Not once had you ever considered that you were just as trapped as Helaena Targaryen.

Aemond’s hand drifted to your face, his thumb brushing along the corner of your mouth and making you gasp. His gaze was drawn to the action, staring at your parted lips for what felt like a long time. You had pulled away slightly, taking a step back, and you did not miss the way his eye darkened at that.

After some time, he finally spoke, meeting your gaze again.

“I will talk to my brother,” he promised you.

His hands trailed down your frame as he let you go, sharply inhaling when he brushed by you. It was moments like this that struck fear into you the most. You knew Aemond’s true nature. His casual cruelty that he could wield onto anyone he saw fit. His cold demeanor that threatened to freeze whomever he pleased. It was not lost on you that whenever he was in your presence, Aemond was holding himself back.

You dreaded the day when he no longer would.

Aemond was your first kiss.

It had come so unexpectedly, right after a heated exchange of words you’d had with his own brother. The oldest Targaryen prince had talked to Helaena in a way that you did not like. You were quick to tell him as much, and his callous laugh had angered you beyond belief. A princess in your own right, you had not hesitated to strike him clear across the face.

Aegon had not appreciated that, and you would be a liar if you said the way he swiftly stood did not scare you. His expression had molded into something ugly, something nasty, and you had stumbled back when his chest brushed yours. Neither of you said a word, simply staring each other down. You with wide eyes…and him with a vicious glint in his violet gaze that had your heart skipping a beat.

He had stepped closer again, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards ever so slightly. Aegon had looked positively terrifying as he reached up to play with a strand of your white hair, admiring it in a way that made you squirm. When you went to take another step back, he swiftly twisted it around his fingers, yanking on it and keeping you in place with a wince.

You reached up to pull on his arm as he merely drank you in. His eyes traveled along your frame slowly, as if memorizing every part of you, and you wanted nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible. He was so close, too close, and you watched in horror as he started to lean in when something over your shoulder caught his attention.

His smile was genuinely mirthful as he let you go, still looking over your shoulder.

You had never been more relieved to see Aemond in your life. The younger Targaryen prince was quick to guide you away as you ran towards him without sparing Aegon a second glance. His hold was tight on your arm, and you were fully expecting him to tear into you, telling you that you knew exactly how Aegon could be.

Aemond, however, did the last thing you ever expected.

His lips had stolen yours before you had realized it, your back pressed against the wall of the empty corridor. Your eyes were wide and hands unsure as they pressed against him, not quite so willing as he tasted the inside of your mouth. In that moment, you were forced to confront what you had long ignored. Aemond’s hand on your neck kept you in place, and you felt dazed when he pulled away.

The kiss prepared you for what followed.

You suspected that it had been a long time in the making, but you were not all that shocked at the marriage your parents and the king and queen agreed to between you and Aemond. There had been a dread within you for years, settling and festering deep down until it took you over completely. Always dreading…something. What, you had never known, but this was evidently the answer.

Aemond had claimed your first kiss, and your hand in marriage…

…but Aegon had claimed your body.

The night before your wedding was a nerve-wracking one for a multitude of reasons, and perhaps that was why you thought nothing of answering the knock at your chamber door. You had hopes that it was Helaena or perhaps even your mother, there to offer some much-needed guidance on what to do the following night.

Aegon was the last person you expected to see.

“Aegon,” you had breathed in shock, frowning. “What…brings you here at this hour?”

His blond hair curled behind his ears, the color of his eyes popping in the darkness. His smile was small, sweet in a sickly way. He did not answer you right away, instead allowing his gaze to travel behind you, taking in your room in all its splendor.

“I came to wish you favor and blessings on your nuptials tomorrow.”

Your lips parted, and your brows drew together.

“How kind of you,” you eventually whispered.

His gaze snapped to yours again, frighteningly fast, and you swallowed.

“Helaena wanted to be the one to do it, but I offered to come in her stead,” he replied.

You were unsure of what to say to that, so you said nothing. It was dawning on you that you were alone. Your guards were nowhere to be seen, and you supposed why would they be? You were just as much royalty as prince Aegon, but this was his home after all, and every man here would answer to him before they did you.

Your hair stood on end.

“If that is all,” you said, pushing the door closed.

Aegon’s hand stopped it, his palm against the wood as he pushed against it. Your strength was no match for his, and your heart dropped when he prevented you from closing it. He took a step forward, standing beneath the threshold now, and your hold on the door tightened. Aegon’s gaze flickered between your eyes.

“My brother will finally get what he has always longed for…”

His words confirmed what you had never wanted to utter aloud.

“How funny though,” he quietly commented. “…considering I saw you first.”

Your frown deepened, and there was a turning in your gut that you could not deny. You glanced behind him, a myriad of decisions playing out in your head. You could not even focus on the meaning behind his words, too concerned with what he would do next.

“Aegon, it is late-.”

“…and you have such a big day tomorrow,” he interrupted, leaning against the door now. “I just want to make sure that all goes as it should.”

You slowly shook your head.

“I…I do not follow.”

You wanted him gone, but no matter how many times your gaze strayed behind him, no one was magically coming to your rescue. Aegon let out a soft chuckle, and when you looked back to him, he had stepped past the threshold now. He was closer than you ever wanted him to be, and you jerked your head away when he reached up to graze your jaw with his fingers.

He stared at the skin there for a while with parted lips, fixated on it. He blinked a few times before his eyes met yours again, fingers still in the air.

“As his older brother…I feel it is my right to properly prepare his wife to be for her wedding night.”

The meaning behind his words washed over you like a bucket of cold water. Your eyes widened, and you reacted a second too late, tripping over your feet when he forced you back and closed the door behind him. His hand had fisted itself into your gown, the only thing that kept you from falling, really, and you reached up to loosen his hold.

The scream in your throat was forced back down by his free hand, his palm covering your mouth with a strength you didn’t know he possessed. Aegon, the second of his name, shushed you as he forced you back. Your tears wet his hand, and you could not tell if the prince took joy in the sight, or he simply did not notice.

“I do not have much hope for my brother, you see,” he purred with a cruel smile. “…I only want to make sure that my dear cousin, my sister-in-law to be, knows what it is to be well satisfied.”

Aegon took great delight in pain.

That was something you found out the night before your wedding.

Your bed had never felt so hard before until he slammed you onto it. The fight between you was brutal, so brutal that you would have thought that you were fighting for your life. You supposed that in a way, you were. Aegon’s face whipped to the side as you hit him, and you struck him again, this time drawing blood. It was not hard to tell that it only made him angrier, spurred him on.

The sound of tearing fabric was loud in your chambers, the flimsy gown shredding to pieces under his hunger driven strength. The night air was cool against your skin, goosebumps appearing and buds hardening. Aegon wasted no time before taking one into his mouth, teeth piercing your skin and drawing a yelp from you. You cried beneath him, pushing at his head.

“Aemond is allowed a wife of his choosing but I, the firstborn son, was not granted that luxury… Does that seem fair to you?”

You supposed the question was rhetorical, but even if it was not, you could not find the strength to answer him. Aegon’s lips were rough on your skin, teeth even rougher, and you suddenly had an entirely new fear of bearing shameful marks on your own wedding day. Aegon’s hand was on your throat, holding you down as his chest heaved. His other hand was pressed beside your head, and his lips grazed your ear.

“Aemond may take you as his wife on the morrow…,” he quietly began, fully resting his body against yours. “…but you will be mine until the end of your days.”

The bloodstain on your bed the next morning only cemented his words.

The night was full of emotions you did not know yourself capable of. The pain that filled you at Aegon’s penetration was enough to bring tears to your eyes. You had welcomed the blurry vision, not wanting to gaze upon his face as it hovered over you. Every thrust felt like the stab of a sword, and your nails actually tore your bedding as you dragged them along the fabric. Lying beneath Aegon felt like the worst of tortures, and somewhere along the way, you simply stopped fighting and opted for closing your eyes, praying that it would be over soon.

Oddly enough, when your fight waned, that was when things…changed.

Aegon’s strokes were no less vigorous, stretching your walls and sliding along your insides with a purpose. However, when you forced your mind to drift, that was when you felt the warm coils within your gut. Stirrings of heat and energy that had you involuntarily squirming, and you sank your teeth into your lip. Aegon’s low laugh reached your ears, and you opened your eyes, your vision focused to find his gaze on your face.

His skin was dewy with sweat, yours just the same, and his messy hair kissed his forehead and the sides of his face. Your body was so warm, and you mentally fought against the unfamiliar feeling coursing through your frame. Mixed with the pain, it felt oddly good, and you did not like it.

Against your will it seemed, your lashes fluttered, and you watched Aegon look down to where he disappeared into you. He seemed excited at the sight, tongue darting out to touch his lips. His hips repeatedly connected with yours with a pace that had your head spinning. The things that you were feeling, it occurred to you that they were feelings you should be feeling on your wedding night…with your husband.

You shook your head, pressing your hand to Aegon’s chest, and he only leaned down to roughly bite at your jaw. His teeth traveled down to your neck, and you hissed when he slowed down. It was tortuous really, beyond cruel to make you feel a semblance of joy in something you wanted no part in. To make you come undone by force.

Aegon claimed you well into the night, and the next day, you and Aemond sliced your palms and your lips in a traditional Valyrian ceremony, binding yourselves to one another. You had cried all the tears you had, forcing yourself to pretend as if nothing had taken place. You said your vows with everyone standing watch, all too aware of the heated gaze of the man who had taken his brother’s wife the night before, the evidence on his cheek for all to see.

Nothing came of your wedding night.

You did not go to Aemond, and he did not come to you. You were less shocked, and more relieved. In fact, for weeks your marriage went unconsummated, and despite what you guessed was going on in your husband’s mind, he said nothing in regard to it. However, due to Aegon’s own words, and what you had finally accepted as truth, you suspected that Aemond was merely satisfied to finally call you his.

At least he was…until the second month of your marriage.

“Is it true?”

You had been gazing up at the tree when Aemond came upon you so suddenly. Your stare had been focused on the red leaves, mind wandering as it often did since that night. You knew that your marriage could not carry on the way it had forever. Aemond would want an heir eventually, and even if he did not, the way his gaze drank you in whenever you were in his presence was hard to ignore.

You were his wife now, and he wanted to touch you as such.

However, you did not think it was possible to ever get over Aegon’s attack. That night haunted you, and truthfully, the only reason you could stand sleeping next to Aemond each night was because of the fear that Aegon would seek you out if you did not. Your nightmares were filled of the short-haired prince, and you repeatedly brushed off Aemond’s concerns whenever you woke up each night in a cold sweat.

You constantly fretted over what to do, but you supposed that now you did not have to.

You stared at Aemond in shock, lips parting as you slowly shook your head. There was a sinking feeling in your gut that told you exactly what this was about, but you did not wish to out yourself unintentionally. So, you simply stared at your husband.

You had seen Aemond’s wrath, but you had never been on the receiving end of it before. His eye was wide, filled with the kind of anger that made you cower beneath it’s gaze. When he slowly stepped towards you, you felt frozen, unable to even defend yourself as he roughly grabbed your arm, yanking you closer. Aemond’s long hair blew with the light breeze, and you wished to be anywhere but here.

“Is…it…true?” he slowly repeated.

“I…I do not-.”

“Did Aegon make a woman of you?”

His words made your stomach churn, and you could not stop your lips from trembling. You tried to look away, tried to hide your tearful gaze, but Aemond was quick, gripping your chin and forcing you to face him.

“Who told you such a thing?” you finally whispered.

“Aegon.”

He said his brother’s name like a curse, and your face crumbled at the older prince’s actions. His cruelty knew no bounds, and you were certain you could guess in which manner he had relayed the information. You swallowed the bile that threatened to come up.

“It is not��� It was not what you are thinking…”

Your words were barely louder than a whisper, but Aemond heard them all the same. His fingers loosened, understanding bleeding into his gaze, and you stumbled back a step. He merely looked at you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Why did you say nothing?” he eventually asked, voice low.

“What was I to say?” you wondered. “How was I to tell you that?”

Your husband did not respond, and you wiped your face.

“He is what you see at night…”

It was a statement, one that did not require confirmation. Aemond’s jaw ticked, and your gaze found the ground when he looked at you again. You heard him move closer, and you remained silent when he rested his hand on your arm, pulling you closer and against him. Aemond’s lips met your forehead, and he remained there, breathing you in.

Aemond had never been who you wanted, and in fact, sometimes you had feared him in ways you should’ve feared Aegon, but you momentarily let that go.

“You are mine,” you heard him breathe, and for some reason, it did not sit right with you. “…you were mine from the very moment you stepped foot into this castle, and Aegon has not changed that.”

You were lost for words when he pulled away, unsure if that was what you wanted to hear.

You were even more lost for words later that evening when Aemond broke his brother’s nose. The brutality in which he handled Aegon scared you, and Helaena sought you for comfort, covering her ears at the display. The whole thing unsettled you, and you were not quite sure why until Aemond spoke.

“She has always belonged to me, brother…” your heart sank. “…and a cock that is common to every maiden will not make her any less so.”

Aemond was not defending your honor.

He was defending his property.

You recalled your first kiss. The suddenness of it, your lack of participation, and the way how Aemond did not care. You remembered the swift betrothal that followed only a day later, long accepting that Aemond had had that brewing for quite some time. You had briefly thought that Aemond did not care about consummating the marriage, only concerned with the fact that you were his. Untouchable to anyone else.

But that was no longer true, and you worried what this meant for you. After all, you were no longer his pure prize just waiting to be properly claimed by him. His brother had beaten him to it, and the anger in his gaze was not on behalf of his wife. The anger was all his, ire brewing there at the knowledge that his property, his trophy, had been touched by another.

You knew it was only a matter of time.

Only a matter of time before Aemond sought to replace the memories of his brother’s touch with his own. Only a matter of time before his imagination went wild thinking about that night. Only a matter of time before his heated and possessive gaze became too heavy, too stifling. It was only a matter of time before he sought to claim what he felt rightfully belonged to him.

It started gradual.

Aemond hardly ever left your side, his hand hovering along you wherever you went. He liked to touch you in any way he could, especially so once in Aegon’s presence. The eldest sibling did not find much amusement in it anymore, hard eyes focused on Aemond’s hold, no doubt wishing it were him instead. Aemond liked to kiss you too. Sometimes softly and so sweet it could barely be called a kiss, and sometimes he wanted to get the taste of you out of his system.

He was a shadow, an oppressive presence that watched your every move.

The night when your marriage was finally consummated should have come as no surprise.

It shouldn’t have, and yet it did.

You thought Aemond was better than that.

The wine may have loosened your lips and waned your strength, but your resistance was no less clear. You were not ready, and truthfully, you doubted you ever would be. Never mind the fact that Aegon and that night still haunted your thoughts, but you had still yet to quite grow to see Aemond as your husband and the man you would bear children with.

“No,” you had quietly slurred. “Aemond…please…”

He was gentle, but it was rape all the same.

He shushed you as you trembled beneath him, hands weak as they merely grazed his chest. Aemond inhaled like he was breathing for the very first time when he entered you, hovering over you and kissing you softly as he slowly thrust into you. It was dark, so he did not see your tears, but you knew he heard it in your voice. Your pleas, your cries, your desire for him to stop.

He did not leave bruises and bitemarks, but the experience was just as painful.

He took his time in exploring your body, making you sigh and mewl against your will. That made it worse somehow. Nothing but pure pleasure plagued your entire frame, and you hated it. You hated the feel of his cock slowly and gently moving within you, sliding along your walls in a way you did not know was possible. You hate his light kisses that he bestowed upon your skin, making you shiver. You hated his not-so-comforting comforting words.

“You’re okay,” he hummed into your mouth.

You were not.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered against your skin.

You were not.

Aemond tried to comfort you and fuck an heir into you all at once, and it only made you sink into yourself more. His long hair brushed the bed with every movement, whispering along your skin like feathers. It served as a curtain whenever he kissed you, and in your drunken state, you could not help but to touch it.

He looked the most satisfied you had ever seen him, and you knew that it was because he finally felt that you were wholly his. That was what he did the entire night and every night since. Made you his again and again, determined to fuck the memory of Aegon out of you, and each time you felt less and less like a person, and more like a pawn

No one was less surprised than you when Aegon cornered you again.

You had felt the heat of his gaze for months, those violet eyes of his traveling over your frame and tracing every curve your dress did not hide. He was brazen about it, his mischievous stare traveling to his brother, glinting dangerously at the anger he no doubt saw there. Aegon took great pleasure in making his brother mad, and he took great pleasure taking what he wanted by force.

You were the golden opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, it seemed.

As Aegon had put it, he’d saw you first, so he naturally felt he was more entitled to you than Aemond. His very presence had you clinging to Aemond more than usual, and although you knew he would never admit it, you knew that Aemond loved the way you cowered towards him in fear. He loved the way you pressed against him and wrapped your hands around his arm.

He did not love, however, undressing you to discover the bruises his own brother had left.

The eldest prince had taken a bold approach, catching you unaware during the day. A secluded corridor had sufficed, his hand over your mouth and his forehead pressed to your neck as he rutted into you. The most salacious words had tumbled from his pink lips, wishes of you being his second wife, and his desire to mark you up so pretty just for Aemond.

Aegon had not been satisfied until you came around him, clenching down on his cock and milking him to his satisfaction. Striking him across the face had meant nothing to him, only serving to bring forth a light chuckle.

“It is as I told you,” he had said, gaze less mirthful now. “…you will be mine until your dying breath.”

It was the same thing he’d told Aemond when he confronted him.

“What will you do?” he had panted, blood on his lips, courtesy of Aemond. “Kill me, brother?”

You knew that no matter what Aegon did, Aemond would never. The eldest prince turned to look at you then, Aemond’s fist tightening on his shirt as he did so. He stared you down for what felt like too long before returning his gaze back to Aemond, shaking his head.

“You probably should…because nothing else will keep me away from her…”

Aemond jerked him, and your heart dropped at the words that met your ears.

“I saw her first,” he whispered. “I was to take her as my second wife. You knew this…you started this when you bound her to you instead.”

You took a step back, tearfully looking between them.

“The least you can do is allow me my fill,” Aegon sneered. “…a small price for a wife that was meant to be mine.”

You wanted to hear no more, and you turned and stumbled away.

Aemond’s silence only confirmed the truth of Aegon’s words, and you did not want to hear a word of what your husband had to say. It was a cruel and sick fate that awaited you, shared between brothers like a common whore and used to fuel their rivalry and sate their desires.

If anyone noticed the way Aegon’s fingers would find your face or back or hand sometimes, they did not comment on it. In the public eye, his claim was reduced to soft brushes of skin and voracious eyes that drank in their fill as they saw fit. They would narrow and glint with malice and jealousy whenever Aemond was near, your husband more than happy to show that not only did you belong to him, but that he was proud of it.

Behind closed doors however, Aegon’s claim was proven with a bruising hold and painful thrusts. He liked your tears, and he liked the marks that he left for Aemond to see. It was a punishment for Aemond just as much as it was for you. Just as Aemond punished him by marrying the woman he’d intended to claim for himself.

Where Aegon was violent and terrifying, Aemond was gentle. He met your resistance with soothing words and long kisses against the ugly marks his brother left. He kissed every single one and touched you as if you were made of glass. He knew that the contrasting behavior softened you towards him more. Every bruise and act of violence from Aegon only made you cling to Aemond more. But it did not diminish what he really did, a dismissal of your refusal all the same, using his brother’s brutality for his own gain.

When you finally gave birth to an heir, the cherubic boy healthy and glowing and wailing as a child should, you accepted that you would never know which brother the boy belonged to.

#aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen x reader x aegon Targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aemond x reader x aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic

[rw-repurposed]

Rain World Repurposed - Zen the Thunderbreaker

Zen, or at least what he was once called. He was Chasing Wind's beloved pet and friend for the longest time as one of the first repurposed organisms that Wind had ever created. Zen was a hybrid of a slugcat, scavenger, and even a small set of Wind's own DNA. Yes, in technicality Wind can even say that Zen was his son.

One day, however, Zen was caught in a rarefaction cell incident which caused the cell to have a meltdown. Resulting in Zen being infected by it and absorbing its unlimited energy. Wind was able to recover him, however, the scars of what happened always remained on every inch of his body. Now, Wind nicknamed Zen the Thunderbreaker as he gained new powers from the incident.

However, things soon changed for the worse. Wind became more maddened with insane and inhumane experiments inspired by Zen's incident. he repurposed creatures for his own selfish curious reasons and without any feeling of remorse or regret. Thunderbreaker took notice as time went on and the facility ground became a nightmare.

Thunderbreaker tried to help the others that were imprisoned for experiments escape, but Wind noticed his action as a betrayal. Wind tried to brain blast Thunderbreaker but due to Wind's genome inside of him, Thunderbreaker just countered the blast towards Wind and severely damaged him before he made his escape with the others.

Carnage was able to recover Wind and Wind repurposed his own body in just a few short cycles. However, he became hateful of Thunderbreaker and his kind, the slugcat. Ever since then, he ordered his minions to hunt down every single slugcats in existence ESPECIALLY Thunderbreaker.

To Wind, there was no more Zen, there is only Thunderbreaker.

===

Thunderbreaker was capable of many things:

He's able to use the power of the rarefaction cell and manipulate the gravity around him to his own will.

He's able to use electricity power as a side effect of having Wind's own genome inside of him. The rarefaction cell also boosted this effect by an insane margin.

This also means he's immune to any kind of electricity attack, such as the Centipedes or electric spear.

He's capable of charging objects into a Singularity Bombs, this, however, will drain his food pips.

He has a pair of sharp bones coming out of his arms that he used as a method of climbing walls but it's also a weapon to defend himself from attackers.

He has 13 food pips. He needed 4 to be able to hibernate, he needs another 8 to be able to use his powers and it slowly drains his food pips whenever he activated them. And he also has one extra food pip which if achieved he'd be able to unleash his MAX power which will drain his entire food pips to zero.

His MAX power turned him into an energy cell that overcharged creatures and exploded them. He also became incredibly fast and able to fly until his food pips drained out.

Due to him having Wind's genome. He's immune to an Iterator brain blast and has to be injured in other ways. This also made him more intelligent than any other slugcats.

His scavenger genome also allowed him to communicate with scavengers and even be accepted as one of their kind. Having a high reputation within their tribes.

Thunderbreaker might seem powerful, but in a world where every nightmare creature is actively hunting you down and nowhere is safe, you can't afford to not have it.

Bonus...

#rain world #rain world downpour #rain world art #rain world fanart #rain world repurposed #rain world oc #rain world slugcat #slugcat rainworld #rw slugcat #slugcats #slugcat #slugcat oc #slug cat #slugcat designs #scug #the thunderbreaker #thunderbreaker #zen #chasing wind #repurposed chasing wind

[fizzzyz]

More Arsentropolis characters!!!!!!

All these little weirdos except for the priest are infected with the disease that lies in Arsentropolis. I don’t have a name for it yet, but it’s associated with trypophobia.

Jilly and Boe are conjoined twins, born with the disease. They’re only about 7 months old, but the disease has made them grow inhumanly fast. They’re pretty strong and lack some abilities, as feeling some emotions and talking.

Father Johnson is one of the few priests in the Church party. He’s in his 30s and have been loyal to the church and god for years. He’s half blind in his right eye. He has a sweet and loving soul but it doesn’t shine through much his quiet and gritty, at some times introverted behaviour.

Canine is another infected that was born with the disease. Its legs were replaced with arms, and its back is arched, giving it a dog-like appearance.

Centipeter or Centipetra is rn just an idea I have in mind and idk if I’ll add them yet. They’re supposed to be half centipede and half human.

Tw: disgusting disease below cut 💃

The disease basically attacks your genes, mixing and decoding them, which can really fuck up your body. Creatures born with the disease can be really deformed. It also creates small holes in mostly your skin, but even worse, in your flesh or even organs. It can only infect through injection or consumtion, and not by breathing it in like covid. This makes it harder for the disease to spread but because of the high rates of cannibalism (they have to eat each other in order to stay alive as they’re running out of food and can’t get any new due their city being in a lockdown.) the disease is rather common. Symptoms start to show up after about a month, but it’s too late even after 13 days after the infection, as soon as it starts working it’s over. Life span after infection is from about 3 months to almost 2 years depending on the infected’s condition.

This disease isn’t entirely natural, as some sort of demonism lies behind it, explaining the unnatural features of it. Some who have been infected for q longer period may start to reject god and turn to satan, becoming aggressive like rabid animals. Babies born with the disease can look like a demon almost and be extremely inhuman.

Idk what I was on when I made this idea 😭

#arsentropolis #horror game concept #game concept art #game concept #horror concept #concept art #art #my art #horror #horror art #tw trypophobia #tw body horror #tw face horror #body horror #face horror #trypophobia #tw gore #gore #religious horror #religious horror art #tmc #faith game #little nightmares #faith tut #sorry for the tags again I just need this to spread to similar medias so it can become real one day fkhsldjdlwjslsjs- #horror artwork #demon art

[animeyanderelover]

Exams are starting soon again😰.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsession, paranoia, abduction

S/o sees his Kakuja form

🔲Kaneki pretty much wants to keep his secrets away from his darling as long as he can since he knows how humans are usually viewed by humans. He himself used to be one after all, so he knows the general fear and prejudices the broader public holds against the human-eating ghouls. After his transformation, he has to hide what he has become from everyone, including his best and only friend. He despises himself during this period, sees himself as a monster. If Kaneki has known his darling since his human days, he tries his best to avoid them too. The boy is terrified to accidentally lose control or reveal his identity in any shape of form to you, is afraid that he'll get to see a look of horror on your face and hear you calling him a monster. Not many might notice the chance though, he's always been extremely isolated and especially shy when you were anywhere around him. He still stalks you a bit though, Kaneki can't help himself.

🔲 He slowly learns to see things from the perspective of the ghouls though, starts to see that humans can be just as inhumane and unfair as ghouls can be. Both sides have a gentler and crueler aspect to them and it's only now that Kaneki is a half-ghoul that he learns to see everything. He slowly starts accepting what he has become but his immense fear regarding you still stays. It's during the time after his transformation that Kaneki starts really developing his worshipper attributes though. As a human you were his source of comfort and silent happiness but with him being a half-ghoul you become a pillar of sanity for him. He feels calmer when he smells your scent or gets to see you and his secretive longing to have you accepting him has him developing the unshakable habit to shape his own self-worth entirely after how you see him. Without knowing it, he becomes incredibly dependent on you which can turn quite wrongly out if you were to fear him.

🔲 After Jason's torture, Kaneki has accepted the new side to him and has turned significantly more violent. The only person who can still shatter his acceptance and smash his newfound composure is his darling since their opinion still matters to Kaneki more than anything. He's a huge stalker, he follows them anywhere and does his best to keep any greedy ghouls away from the places they pass by daily. Kaneki isn't afraid to use violence anymore, especially if you are involved. He doesn't want to reveal himself to you though even if his need grows day by day. His half-ghoul form with his one eye and his Kagune would already be something he would never want you to see. It symbolizes what he has become and even if he wouldn't care about the opinion of anyone else, it all comes shattering down on him if you were to see him like this.

🔲 His Kaguja form is even more gruesome though, especially if you were to know the background of this mutation. Cannibalism. Kaneki's Kaguja reflects his mental state as well since his mutation looks eerily similar to the centipede Jason tortured him with. So imagine you, a normal human who has never made contact with a ghoul besides maybe in the news, being brave enough to make your way into an abandoned alley whilst the sun is already setting because you heard noises coming out of there that have the hairs on your neck standing up. It sounds like a fight, a pretty bloody one too judging from the groans and quickly silenced screams. You should run, all of your senses tell you to run for your life and to not turn back but something inside of you moves you forward, each little step you take has your heart pounding faster against your ribcage.

🔲 Nothing could have prepared you for the sight you witnessed the moment you peeked carefully around the corner though. Blood is staining the ground and the walls, bodies are lying motionlessly or slightly twitching in puddles of blood and in the middle of it all you see what you barely recognize as a person. A mask reminding you of the beak of a bird and weirdly shaped tentacles in the form of insects, white hair and a slightly crazed grin on their face. Your brain goes into sheer overload as fear, terror, confusion and absolute horror settle in as you try to process what you see. Only one word comes into your mind as you gaze at that thing there. "Monster."

🔲 You're frozen in fear, your legs refuse to move at all so all you can do is watch in pure fear as the person stabs one of the still barely alive people on the ground over and over again, mindlessly and with a crooked grin on their face as they mutter over and over again for them to die. That a group of ghouls shouldn't band together like this and hunt in here. After all (y/n) could get hurt. Your heart stops beating for an agonizing second or two when you hear that thing mentioning your name as you feel the food you just consumed churning around in your stomach, leaving a sour taste in the back of your throat. How does that thing know your name? What does it want from you?

🔲 You stumble a bit forward out of shock as a wave of nausea and dizziness suddenly hits you out of sheer shock and fear and before you can return to your hiding spot, their head snaps around and looks straight at you. You remain frozen, staring back with wide eyes, a net of wetness starting to cover them as you gaze at that monstrous-looking thing. You expect it to attack you and pierce you with that same insane grin it did to all those other people. Instead you observe how the previous mad grin slips from their face, as the mask suddenly crumbles from their face and everything on their body starts to disappear. Until only a boy with white hair remains in the middle of the horror scene, eyes blown even wider open than yours, staring at you with an equal amount of terror and fear. If you've known Kaneki beforehand and recognize that this is the same shy classmate you used to know before he just vanished into thin air, it all will be even worse.

🔲 He starts apologizing to you, words spilling out between shaking sobs as Kaneki has another meltdown, the look in your eyes piercing through his heart and successfully damaging it more than a Kagune could ever do. There's a searing pain spreading out throughout his body, squeezing his heart harshly and causing tears to flow down his face. His mind is racing. What should he do now? You don't even have to say anything, one look speaks more than a thousand words right now and Kaneki feels the full weight of that right now as it crushes him. You don't move at first, only watch with growing anguish as he slowly steps closer to you, his face tear-stained and both of his arms reaching out to you. You see how his whole body is shaking as he tries to slowly get closer to you, the wet glimmer in his eyes moving your heart the tiniest bit. He looks so vulnerable, so wounded, like a little child needing comfort and love. This isn't enough to stop your survival instinct though.

🔲 The painful cry of your name rings in your ears as you make a run for it, only looking forward as you sprint back. You want to get away from him, don't want this man anywhere near you. You don't get very far though as you hear footsteps behind you, accompanied by sobs before you feel yourself being grabbed and pulled into a chest. Kaneki just holds you in a tight hold as he cries like a child, terrified and trying to string together a coherent sentence but only being able to speak broken words. You understand what he wants to say though. He's not a monster. He's not a monster. He's not a monster.

🔲Abduction is unavoidable after this. You've seen what Kaneki never wanted you to see and the damage is done. You're crying terrified, sobbing alongside the white-haired boy who mutters again and again that everything will be fine as you're forcefully taken to his home. The fearful look in your eyes haunts Kaneki for days to come as he can feel his mentality giving away under the pressure and paranoia. He tries desperately to give you space and help you to get used to him but every time you gaze at him with fear and the unspoken words of "monster" at him, he has a meltdown. It leads him to the point where he's on his knees in front of you, shaking hands clutching the material of your clothes in his hands as he's begging and sobbing for you to show him some affection and to stop looking at him like this. You can do anything, anything, to him if it helps you seeing him as something else than a monster.

#yandere tokyo ghoul #yandere kaneki #yandere ken kaneki

[anti-morty]

Character info, starting off

.

Personality

Extremely secretive and cold. She's defiant and vulgar. She spends her time exploring the multiverse, discovering and inventing.

Abilities

Due to modifications from her Rick, she was given powerful abilities.

Her main ability: the ability to drain and transfer power and intelligence through a butterfly that shares identical wings to her own, she named it lulu.

She can only absorb 6 powers however, it also takes a huge amount of energy from her as it absorbs into her very essence, she needs to take a 3 hour nap to recover after one power absorption session. But she found a way around this by creating a clone and putting powers she absorbs through the clone for extra "space" and can transfer powers whenever she needs to

Her current powers she's absorbed is:

Time stop

She needs to bring out Lulu in order to stop time, its limited to 30 minutes and can only stack up to 5 times (150 minutes in total)

Superspeed

Regeneration

Teleportation

The ability to alter atoms

She uses this ability to "crush" things like guns and other weapons to ash to make it look like it's some sort of super strength when in reality it's just turning them into other element

hallucination manipulation.

Plays around with this by making her enemies see the most horrific, scary things known to mankind, Eg a scary, bloody smiling centipede dog. It catches people off guard and makes them scared for their life majority of the time.

Weapon

A scythe that can deflect bullets and lasers off it's blade, shoots out piercing scythe projectiles that move at a rapid speed and has the ability to absorb souls, turning them into soul orbs.

Gadgets

Wrist watch

A wrist watch that can scan dimensions and planets for it's threat levels and alerts it's user when a threat is nearby, it can also scan individuals, allowing her to see what dimension they came from, who they are, what abilities they currently have and their memories.

Portal gun

Her portal gun is a black gun, the edging glows, containing a blueish purple liquid inside it. The liquid is a special portal fluid/slime she invented that regenerates itself from consumption, essentially making it infinite. Her portal gun also has a touch screen on it where she can draw a shape on it, it will save into the portal guns database as an option for the design of her portal as the gun has a few settings that can alter the size, shape and color of a portal. The minimum size being the size of her hand whereas the maximum is the size of the largest known black hole, ton 618. The portal gun also saves in the universe history to add it to it's randomizer feature, where she can randomly portal around instead of going to a direct location.

Loot portal

She keeps a loot portal hidden under her clothes in order to carry her weapons and gadgets, to seemingly "pull them out of nowhere", which somewhat catches people off guard.

Backstory

Her Rick, butterfly Rick, is a nutorious Rick known for experimenting and creating dangerous creatures and turning mortys into like... strong minions to serve. He never exactly cared for love and marriage but met Diane and had a one night stand with her. Years later he found out about the erasure of every Diane ever and decided to look into it and found that his universes Diane actually kept Beth and Beth had her own family with summer and morticia and he decided to kill them but kept morticia alive because he thought she has similarities to him. so after he killed morticias family, he kidnapped her and preformed inhuman, unethical experiments on her to create the perfect superweapon ever and he obviously had precautions in case of a betrayal, he made himself immune to morticias powers as a whole in case of her trying to use them on him. But morticia went on a whole solo mission to learn about the morty manipulation control chips ricks use on mortys and stole one then modified it to work on ricks then found the right time to attack butterfly Rick and control him and it worked. She controlled him for a good amount of time and when she was done with him she ORDERED HIM to commit suicide because she KNEW she couldn't hurt him herself in ANYWAY shape or form.

Butterfly Rick

Personality

A Rick who is known for experimenting on mortys and turning them into "better versions of themselves" (his nice way to fool the public. He turns them into freaks of nature.) He publicly puts on an act of a nice person to deceive people from knowing his true nature. His greatest project is Morticia, his own morty. He craves power and is sociopathic. He will do ANYTHING to get what he wants. He's incredibly apathetic, He's cruel, manipulative, He is very crafty and implemented the darkest themes into his work and experiments because he's an edgelord. He made himself immune to any damage done from his own experiments suppose they were to turn on him.

Butterfly people

Butterfly people, almost similar to a fairy, were very close to nature. They wore torn/tattered clothes as they believed that it implies they were close to nature. Their houses were also usually full of vines and plants. However their eating habits consist of a diet of flowers and nectar, like a butterfly. They can eat human food however it's preferred to eat flowers and pollen.

#morty oc #mortysona #rick and morty #ricksona #rick and morty oc #rick sanchez #antimorty #Butterfly Rick #Rick F-53 #rick oc #jerry smith #summer smith

[bracketsoffear]

Sydney Sargent (Camp Here & There) "He's got this whole thing about mushrooms being friends. he's strongly against eating mushrooms, he canonically wears a mushroom in his hair, his most iconic line is "When you die, you will rot.", he was trampled by ants as a child, he is consistently tormented by centipedes and talks about invisioning his child self being eaten by one and also watches a blue jay, his symbolic bird, get eaten by one, ughhhgh in one episode he has a hallucination about being a bee hive… talks about pushing the burden of life out of his body. Gross. Anyway, I think that's it? Oh wait yeah also, creator made a list of all the character's TMA entities and he was corruption."

Malenia, Blade of Miquella (Elden Ring) "Cursed from birth to be host of the Scarlet Rot, a deity of decay and rebirth that manifests as a horrendously virulent alien disease. Despite resisting its power and dedicating her life to containing it, she was afflicted badly by it--she lost both feet, an arm, and her eyes to the Rot, and it runs strong enough through her veins that she can become a Walking Wasteland if she doesn't keep it under control, even having her weapons and armor consecrated with Unalloyed Gold to resist it. When she battled Radahn, she ultimately “bloomed” and unleashed the Scarlet Rot all over Caelid using the Scarlet Aeonia, turning it into a plague-ridden hellhole. Since the Aeonia, she's been leaking Rot all over the Haligtree despite her continued efforts to contain it; killing her will cause her to revive and temporarily apotheosize into the Goddess of Rot where she consciously wields her curse's power in a desperate attempt to kill the Tarnished. She seems to embrace the Rot's warped mindset, as whenever she kills the Tarnished in this phase, she tells them to let the Scarlet Rot consume their flesh. Her Goddess of Rot form is also associated with the toxic Aeonian Butterflies that form her wings and her attacks, symbolizing her gradual metamorphosis into something inhuman as she gives into the Scarlet Rot. According to the description of her signature Incantation Scarlet Aeonia, “Each time the scarlet flower blooms, Malenia's rot advances. It has bloomed twice already. With the third bloom, she will become a true goddess.” Her trusted comrades, the Cleanrot Knights, accepted the fact that their close service to Malenia would doom them to a slow and painful death by scarlet rot, and willingly chose to faithfully serve her anyway (which may tie into The Corruption’s themes of destructive love); consequently, their flesh is constantly rotting and they often suddenly and violently puke out their rot-infected guts even in the midst of combat. What is definitely related to The Corruption’s metaphorical love associations is that Malenia sees herself as “The Blade of Miquella,” holding great pride in her reputation as Miquella's undefeated protector and using her status as a shield against the Rot's constant attempts to claim her mind. Consequently, when she has trouble in battle against opponents like the Tarnished and Radahn she is willing to let the Rot advance in her body and mind over a defeat that could shame her brother, especially since she has already failed him by letting him get kidnapped and not being able to rescue him. Malenia overall falls into the Agnes Montague category of Avatar--she absolutely does not want to be a vessel of the Scarlet Rot, but she can’t help but spread disgusting disease and decay to everyone and everything around her, and--in part because of her love for her brother--she is eventually pushed to the point of embracing the Rot out of desperate fear."

#corruption poll #the magnus archives #the corruption #camp here and there #elden ring #poll

[khattikeri]

i loved reading your post. i think hori is way worse than kishimoto when it comes to writing female characters. he has disgusting opinion on women and at this point i cant even separate the art from the artist. hori disgusts me on many levels. also, are you an anime only fan or do you follow the manga as well. if its the latter, what are you thoughts on the recent events of the series.

apart from his sexist view on women, i think the plot itself, it's fights and everything in between also has plenty of flaws rearing it's ugly head

I think it's less of a hatred for women on Horikoshi's part and more an unconscious bias that ends up leading to female characters all dying or fading away into irrelevancy... or being established as "strong" only for them to have a single shining moment before being relegated to supporting male character arcs, which get a lot more time and detail.

I quit the anime halfway through season 5 and haven't been reading ongoing manga chapters properly in years (I stopped when Lady Nagant was defeated), so I don't actually know how the final arc is going. I've seen some things relating to Dabi/Todoroki family drama and Bakugou's status in the battle. But I check leaks very rarely.

I was pretty disillusioned and emotional when I wrote the rant post on misogyny in the series. I just typed it out in one go fueled by my own indignance at how conveniently things go for Midoriya and how little any of the women in the story get to shine, even when the intention is for them to do so.

I obviously missed some points and examples because I was so emotional... so seeing people take it out of context on twitter and calling me a crazy tumblr fujoshi or radfem acting in bad faith pissed me off. I blocked a lot of people over it. Not worth my time if people can't fucking read and use their brains, lol.

I hesitate to throw labels at Horikoshi though. Maybe he does truly believe that women can be as strong as men. Maybe he doesn't truly hold misogynystic beliefs in the extreme way, where he thinks women have to be subservient. How people view strength between genders is an important aspect to consider. Saying a woman is strong or having her fight physically is not the same as being given equal character development to a man. Men get inhuman or creature-based designs, such as the centipede, but all the women have moe humanesque faces even if they have different skin colors or horns. Where do you draw the line?

Regardless of Horikoshi's intentions, there is a disparity in how he writes and draws his female vs his male characters, and especially how many of each of them he creates. I think it's ridiculous to act like that difference doesn't exist at all, or that someone calling it out (with no intention to like, cancel him) is reading into it too deeply.

In the end if people can't handle others pointing out flaws about things they like, that's a problem for them, not me. I've heard others say the final bnha arc is flawed and overly rushed, but I wouldn't know. I don't intend to read it until the series is over so I can binge and then mark it complete on my lists.

I used to like it but these days I find myself understanding more and more that shonen manga, especially Jump manga and action shonen, truly are not meant for me. I'm not a kid anymore and my standards for character development, plot development, and critical analysis just don't mesh well with it.

#ask #theuntamedangel #thank you for this ask LOL i got a little rambly and off topic with the venting but this has been bugging me #glad you agreed with me at any rate #bnha #bnha critical

[deludedfantasy]

Trimax Vol 3

Well, things are getting real serious in this volume and I have a lot of thoughts. Now that I’m not reading in a fevered state of obsession, the darkness of this volume hit me really hard. But more on that below the cut.

Ch1

Wolfwood is faced with Gray the Ninelives and remembers his big argument with Vash! He seems to decide that he’ll try to do things Vash’s way for once, but he’s very not happy about it. But like I said before, we’re already making progress. As much as these two disagree, they still listen to each other and try to work with the other’s perspective. 

This weird centipede puppet thing is incredibly freaky. I’m actually having a hard time looking at it.

More commentary on Vash’s humanity—or lack thereof, this time by Leonof, who also directly compares him to Knives. It’s interesting that he seems to see them as exactly the same. I suppose he’s right in that they actually have pretty similar core motivations, the sorrow, suffering, and rage he refers to. But yeah, Vash resists the worst that these feelings can bring about while Knives gives into them, but somehow Leonof sees that resistance as incredibly inhuman, which I don’t know if I agree with. 

Man, Wolfwood is so bitter and hopeless. He basically says, “Your ideals don’t matter. Either way, we all end up dead. The world is a terrible place where nothing changes and we have no hope of doing anything about it, so why bother even having any ideals.” That is…so incredibly depressing, Wolfwood. What happened to this man, I really wanna know. 

Ch2

Assuming Wolfwood is Chapel, was he not supposed to interfere with what Leonof is doing? I guess he didn’t interfere in the Rei Dei fight until the end when he thought Vash was going to die, and seeing as his purpose is to make Vash suffer, killing Rei Dei would be more in-line with his mission. Also, how does Legato even know about this? Is one of Leonof’s puppet creatures reporting on what’s happening in the colony?

I need to know where, exactly, Wolfwood has been hiding this spare handgun all this time.

I’m the kind of person who deeply enjoys when a man is overcome by bloodlust and then ends up covered in blood, so this chapter is just a 10/10 for me. Love me some bloody unhinged Wolfwood

Ch3

I have to say it again: Wolfwood gets so unhinged when he fights and I love it. It’s an interesting parallel to Vash who so far has been a fairly artful, though not always graceful, fighter. Comment inspired entirely by this two page spread

Vash getting tricked by puppet people never gets any easier for me to handle emotionally

“A momentary lapse in judgment can have fatal consequences.” Yeah, Vash refusing to shoot perceived innocents is a lapse in judgment, Leonof, sure. This is like the worse version of Wolfwood’s argument from last chapter

Emilio the Player? Is that supposed to be Leonof? Does Vash know him somehow?

I think this might be the cruelest of all the Gung Ho Gun fights. This isn’t just endangering innocent people, Leonof is actively using them against Vash so he can’t tell who is and isn’t a puppet. He tricks him into shooting someone! The psychological warfare is chilling and I’m starting to wonder if there’s a reason why he’s playing so much on Vash’s emotions

Ch4

Oh, so Vash does somehow know Leonof! Are the names he’s saying people they both know? Why doesn’t Leonof remember being Emilio?

Either way, this is personal. That explains the psychological warfare

Whoops, Vash might’ve just made things worse for himself by bringing all this back up for Leonof

I had a very hard time parsing this page and from what I can tell, Vash either blew up a water tower or set off the smoke alarms and the sprinkler system. Either way, there is water falling from the sky

Listen, I don’t care what’s going on. I just really wanna know how Leonof and Vash know each other!! This is all very, very cryptic

Random pile of coffins? Random dead lady (or is it a puppet) in a coffin?? And so I ask, what is going on???

Ch5

Listen, I know I’ve been going on and on about Wolfwood’s violence in this chapter but I think this might be the first time we really see him fight and he’s goddamn brutal. He’s practically feral. It’s a very marked difference to Vash and I’m trying to figure out exactly what this means but I’m not grasping it completely.

It definitely shows how willing he is to get his hands dirty. He’s not going to waste time with tricks, he goes straight for the kill and nothing will get in his way. But it’s also starting to feel wrong, I guess? Especially as he beats up Gray the Ninelives and has all those flashbacks to the children at the orphanage. It feels like he’s trying to give himself a reason to keep going like this when he really doesn’t want to. 

Also, love that Gray the Ninelives is literally nine dudes in a trench coat. Nine lives like a cat, right? That’s what I originally thought. Nope, nine lives because it’s basically a horrible organic mech suit powered by nine little guys

Leonof with his funky bat wings is so Dracula coded

Confusion alert: what the hell did Brad do exactly? It didn’t look like he was doing anything then the next second, what I think are the ship’s doors opened and dumped Leonof out. And then he says he did it. Does he just move really quickly in the space of a few panels? I feel like I’m missing something

Best guess for what happened to Leonof: the pain of his memories returning made him let go of the thread holding him up because he couldn’t handle the agony. But also, I have no clue. He obviously loved Isabel and I think the puppet is her preserved corpse, so losing it also broke something in him. But I want the whole backstory here, Nightow! Am I gonna get it? Probably not! I have so many questions!!

A dramatic Wolfwood monologue once again interrupted by silliness, this time in the form of Meryl and Milly. Insurance girls to the rescue! They legit save his life because he’s too busy making a brooding speech to realize he’s about to be chopped in half because Gray the Ninelives still isn’t dead

In conclusion, I have no idea what’s going on, but it was fun!

Ch6

Knives and his goddamn BDSM suit is killing me. But like…what is he doing? Is he using his powers?

Vash expression of sheer confusion at waking up in the hospital is so good!!

He’s so shocked to see Meryl and Milly again! Like he really can’t believe these people he became friends with would ever come back into his life. He’s beaming, though, when he gets past the shock. He’s so happy! I’m not sure we’ve ever seen him smile so wide

Oh, Vash. Jumping straight to blaming himself when he learns about everyone who died in the colony. But it really seems like no one here actually blames him. In fact, I think the people of the colony are happy to see him! But he’s so used to the damage his presence causes and how people turn him away for it that he thinks the people in this place he considers home would feel the same. Argh, I just made myself sad

I’m glad Luida outright tells Vash he’s part of the family. I’m not sure he believes her, but I don’t think he hears anything like that often

Leave it to Wolfwood to get mad at being thanked for saving people. To be fair, it would be pretty confusing to be thanked for killing when you just had a big blowout about how you shouldn’t murder people

“I’ve burdened you with my own ideals. I’m sorry.” What a LINE. Vash is definitely very aware that the vast majority of people can’t live like him, and that doing so can be very difficult. He’s really opening up to Wolfwood by admitting this

They’re already coming to understand each other more and the flaws inherent to both their ways of looking at the world. Rather than pushing back, they’re opening up. We love to see it

Vash’s pouty face here is everything

Ch7

Vash looks so soft and fluffy with his hair down. It’s also very fun/interesting/jarring when he doesn’t have his coat on. It reminds you that, at heart, he’s just a guy

Vash actually letting people in is!!! He shows the girls the cold sleep chamber because he wants them to understand why he does what he does. 

And Meryl does see it. She has another moment where she weighs up everything she knows about Vash, all the contradictory parts of him, and starts to see how heavily his past weighs on him, that something dark lurks there

Wolfwood is once again confused and trying to figure out Vash’s motivations. Redemption is a good guess to make but he’s not quite seeing the bigger picture yet. Mainly, that Vash doesn’t care about himself, that this is about everyone else. Because I don’t think he believes he can be redeemed and really, Vash has a literal death wish (sometimes)

To prove Luida’s point, Vash once again uses his own body as a shield to save the girls and gets his tech arm shot off again. Wolfwood can’t get over the stupidity.

Luida providing a Vash thesis statement right here. Kindness even in the face of endless suffering. I think maybe, right here, is when Wolfwood starts to really get who Vash is, what he’s doing, and what he stands for

This was fun! We got to learn more about Vash, see Wolfwood actually fight and get very bloody, and see some new places in this world. If I’m remembering correctly, things are only going to get darker from here, so I’m just gonna hide with the boys in their cozy little hospital outfits until it’s time to go on to the next volume. 

#trigun #trigunbookclub

[stillflight]

Writeblr Intro (finally)

This post will continue to be edited as necessary.

Hi, let’s get this out of the way, I hate sideblogs/love discordance so I put EVERYTHING on this one blog, so it’s not just a writeblr, and tbh I’ll probably still post primarily other stuff (not to worry, everyone who’s already here). This is also an over 3 years old blog with an established presence in other communities, so to those followings, you can just ignore this. But since this blog is for everything I like, I want to talk about my little stories :> And I’ve been saying I was going to do this since forever ago. The goal is honestly to get me to actually sit down and write more.

I write all kinds of works, most of the writing you’ll see on here will be poetry which I’ve already been posting for a while but I am also joining writeblr so I can talk about my short story and novel WIPs and maintain tags for my characters. I apparently write a lot about inhumanity. When I write longform fiction I like to have a grand scope and high stakes and maximalism with the sheer number and diversity of themes and tones. When I write shortform fiction I like to have something be as fucked up and horrible as possible. When I write poetry I like to let my rage and grief possess my body like a dybbuk.

My WIPs:

ㅤ 

Short story wips

untitled

A 31 year old retail employee finds himself reborn as a dinosaur in the late Cretaceous. Genre: I don’t fucking know. Isekai I guess?! Status: concept. Content warnings: animal death, apocalypse

probably won’t be titled until I write it

A small story at the end of the universe. Genre: surreal sci fi slice of life. Status: unfinished concept. Content warnings: existentialism.

untitled

A research scientist in the far future receives an honor: to be the first human to travel backward in time. Their objective is to study the organisms of the early Paleozoic. Genre: there are other kinds of horror than just monsters. Status: concept

 

Books (all my book WIPs are in the earliest of conceptual stages)

Everything in This Universe (#wip: everything, very unfinished concept + working title)

Through a series of increasingly ridiculous circumstances, a completely normal house centipede becomes God. Genre: I’ve just been describing it as “earnest comedy.” In a lowkey fantasy setting that becomes more sci fi later on. Not an allegory, just having fun with it while still trying to make something that means something and has serious moments. Not a satire because I genuinely think this concept would be fun to read straightforwardly if I managed to pull it off. Themes: immortality, humanity, inhumanity, sapience, identity, eternity/infinity, yes I said it was a comedy, it also so far seems like it’s going to be so full to the brim with serious, genuine themes that it will overflow.

The Enormity of the World’s Grief (#wip: grief, working title)

I can’t say much about this one right now because once it’s written it will definitely be the most personal thing I’ve ever made. You’ll just have to see. Genre: supernatural fantasy… sort-of tragedy? Themes: death, life, loss, marginalization, mental illness, humanity, inhumanity, unfulfilled dreams, some others, we’ll see

 

Series (lower on the priority list than my standalone books because they’re less personal/meaningful and more about rule-of-cool worldbuilding)

Afterworld (#wip: afterworld)

Middle grade series. Explores the world of bugs and other tiny creatures on a post-Holocene extinction Earth where all animals larger than rodents and birds have been wiped out. Because why is there no children’s talking animal series about bugs. Be the change you want to see in the world, right? Genre: old-school heroic fantasy. Inspirations: The Secret of NIMH, Mouse Guard, Stray, Ladislas Starevich’s silent films, Hollow Knight.

#writeblr

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Humans are not perfectly vigilant

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Here's a fun AI story: a security researcher noticed that large companies' AI-authored source-code repeatedly referenced a nonexistent library (an AI "hallucination"), so he created a (defanged) malicious library with that name and uploaded it, and thousands of developers automatically downloaded and incorporated it as they compiled the code:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

These "hallucinations" are a stubbornly persistent feature of large language models, because these models only give the illusion of understanding; in reality, they are just sophisticated forms of autocomplete, drawing on huge databases to make shrewd (but reliably fallible) guesses about which word comes next:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

Guessing the next word without understanding the meaning of the resulting sentence makes unsupervised LLMs unsuitable for high-stakes tasks. The whole AI bubble is based on convincing investors that one or more of the following is true:

There are low-stakes, high-value tasks that will recoup the massive costs of AI training and operation;

There are high-stakes, high-value tasks that can be made cheaper by adding an AI to a human operator;

Adding more training data to an AI will make it stop hallucinating, so that it can take over high-stakes, high-value tasks without a "human in the loop."

These are dubious propositions. There's a universe of low-stakes, low-value tasks – political disinformation, spam, fraud, academic cheating, nonconsensual porn, dialog for video-game NPCs – but none of them seem likely to generate enough revenue for AI companies to justify the billions spent on models, nor the trillions in valuation attributed to AI companies:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

The proposition that increasing training data will decrease hallucinations is hotly contested among AI practitioners. I confess that I don't know enough about AI to evaluate opposing sides' claims, but even if you stipulate that adding lots of human-generated training data will make the software a better guesser, there's a serious problem. All those low-value, low-stakes applications are flooding the internet with botshit. After all, the one thing AI is unarguably very good at is producing bullshit at scale. As the web becomes an anaerobic lagoon for botshit, the quantum of human-generated "content" in any internet core sample is dwindling to homeopathic levels:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/14/inhuman-centipede/#enshittibottification

This means that adding another order of magnitude more training data to AI won't just add massive computational expense – the data will be many orders of magnitude more expensive to acquire, even without factoring in the additional liability arising from new legal theories about scraping:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

That leaves us with "humans in the loop" – the idea that an AI's business model is selling software to businesses that will pair it with human operators who will closely scrutinize the code's guesses. There's a version of this that sounds plausible – the one in which the human operator is in charge, and the AI acts as an eternally vigilant "sanity check" on the human's activities.

For example, my car has a system that notices when I activate my blinker while there's another car in my blind-spot. I'm pretty consistent about checking my blind spot, but I'm also a fallible human and there've been a couple times where the alert saved me from making a potentially dangerous maneuver. As disciplined as I am, I'm also sometimes forgetful about turning off lights, or waking up in time for work, or remembering someone's phone number (or birthday). I like having an automated system that does the robotically perfect trick of never forgetting something important.

There's a name for this in automation circles: a "centaur." I'm the human head, and I've fused with a powerful robot body that supports me, doing things that humans are innately bad at.

That's the good kind of automation, and we all benefit from it. But it only takes a small twist to turn this good automation into a nightmare. I'm speaking here of the reverse-centaur: automation in which the computer is in charge, bossing a human around so it can get its job done. Think of Amazon warehouse workers, who wear haptic bracelets and are continuously observed by AI cameras as autonomous shelves shuttle in front of them and demand that they pick and pack items at a pace that destroys their bodies and drives them mad:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

Automation centaurs are great: they relieve humans of drudgework and let them focus on the creative and satisfying parts of their jobs. That's how AI-assisted coding is pitched: rather than looking up tricky syntax and other tedious programming tasks, an AI "co-pilot" is billed as freeing up its human "pilot" to focus on the creative puzzle-solving that makes coding so satisfying.

But an hallucinating AI is a terrible co-pilot. It's just good enough to get the job done much of the time, but it also sneakily inserts booby-traps that are statistically guaranteed to look as plausible as the good code (that's what a next-word-guessing program does: guesses the statistically most likely word).

This turns AI-"assisted" coders into reverse centaurs. The AI can churn out code at superhuman speed, and you, the human in the loop, must maintain perfect vigilance and attention as you review that code, spotting the cleverly disguised hooks for malicious code that the AI can't be prevented from inserting into its code. As "Lena" writes, "code review [is] difficult relative to writing new code":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773779967521780169

Why is that? "Passively reading someone else's code just doesn't engage my brain in the same way. It's harder to do properly":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773780355708764665

There's a name for this phenomenon: "automation blindness." Humans are just not equipped for eternal vigilance. We get good at spotting patterns that occur frequently – so good that we miss the anomalies. That's why TSA agents are so good at spotting harmless shampoo bottles on X-rays, even as they miss nearly every gun and bomb that a red team smuggles through their checkpoints:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

"Lena"'s thread points out that this is as true for AI-assisted driving as it is for AI-assisted coding: "self-driving cars replace the experience of driving with the experience of being a driving instructor":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773841546753831283

In other words, they turn you into a reverse-centaur. Whereas my blind-spot double-checking robot allows me to make maneuvers at human speed and points out the things I've missed, a "supervised" self-driving car makes maneuvers at a computer's frantic pace, and demands that its human supervisor tirelessly and perfectly assesses each of those maneuvers. No wonder Cruise's murderous "self-driving" taxis replaced each low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged technical robot supervisors:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

AI radiology programs are said to be able to spot cancerous masses that human radiologists miss. A centaur-based AI-assisted radiology program would keep the same number of radiologists in the field, but they would get less done: every time they assessed an X-ray, the AI would give them a second opinion. If the human and the AI disagreed, the human would go back and re-assess the X-ray. We'd get better radiology, at a higher price (the price of the AI software, plus the additional hours the radiologist would work).

But back to making the AI bubble pay off: for AI to pay off, the human in the loop has to reduce the costs of the business buying an AI. No one who invests in an AI company believes that their returns will come from business customers to agree to increase their costs. The AI can't do your job, but the AI salesman can convince your boss to fire you and replace you with an AI anyway – that pitch is the most successful form of AI disinformation in the world.

An AI that "hallucinates" bad advice to fliers can't replace human customer service reps, but airlines are firing reps and replacing them with chatbots:

https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20240222-air-canada-chatbot-misinformation-what-travellers-should-know

An AI that "hallucinates" bad legal advice to New Yorkers can't replace city services, but Mayor Adams still tells New Yorkers to get their legal advice from his chatbots:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/03/nycs-government-chatbot-is-lying-about-city-laws-and-regulations/

The only reason bosses want to buy robots is to fire humans and lower their costs. That's why "AI art" is such a pisser. There are plenty of harmless ways to automate art production with software – everything from a "healing brush" in Photoshop to deepfake tools that let a video-editor alter the eye-lines of all the extras in a scene to shift the focus. A graphic novelist who models a room in The Sims and then moves the camera around to get traceable geometry for different angles is a centaur – they are genuinely offloading some finicky drudgework onto a robot that is perfectly attentive and vigilant.

But the pitch from "AI art" companies is "fire your graphic artists and replace them with botshit." They're pitching a world where the robots get to do all the creative stuff (badly) and humans have to work at robotic pace, with robotic vigilance, in order to catch the mistakes that the robots make at superhuman speed.

Reverse centaurism is brutal. That's not news: Charlie Chaplin documented the problems of reverse centaurs nearly 100 years ago:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modern_Times_(film)

As ever, the problem with a gadget isn't what it does: it's who it does it for and who it does it to. There are plenty of benefits from being a centaur – lots of ways that automation can help workers. But the only path to AI profitability lies in reverse centaurs, automation that turns the human in the loop into the crumple-zone for a robot:

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/01/human-in-the-loop/#monkey-in-the-middle

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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Jorge Royan (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Munich_-_Two_boys_playing_in_a_park_-_7328.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

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Noah Wulf (modified) https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thunderbirds_at_Attention_Next_to_Thunderbird_1_-_Aviation_Nation_2019.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #ai #supervised ai #humans in the loop #coding assistance #ai art #fully automated luxury communism #labor

[cosmicgrapevine]

Found some weird trivia while doing research. So, Gerald Scutaro aka The Centipede, my main villain, got his start as a low-level mobster in the Chicago Outfit of the 60s/70s (which really was quite strong well after Capone), before discovering that magic was real and using it to (basically) bind himself to a demon. Eventually, probably about the early 90s, he gets too vicious and inhuman for even the mob and is beaten to a pulp and left for dead, dropped off in a burlap sack somewhere in Vegas, where the next stage of his villainy begins.

As it happens, the Chicago Outfit had a boss named Tony Accardo who died in 1992, just after Scutaro got booted, and whose death was the beginning of the end for his organization, and by all accounts was the IRL version of the hyper-competent, businesslike-but-merciless, always-had-a-fall-guy, outfoxed-the-cops-for-years mob boss I thought didn’t actually exist. And I’m pitching this book at a level where random historical references would make sense to throw in, so I think I gotta use this guy somehow.

(Also, Accardo’s great-grandsons are NFL megastars Joey and Nick Bosa. Ain’t life wild?)

[thefandomcassandra]

Champion (10/20): I’ve a Good Heart

cham·pi·on — /ˈCHampēən/

(n) - a person who fights or argues for a cause or on behalf of someone else

(v) - support the cause of; defend — "I don't want these powers. They're too much."

Reigen said he would bear any burden too big for Mob.

If Reigen Arataka had to use one word to describe himself for the rest of time immemorial, it would be 'adaptable'. If he had a second word, he'd use 'bullshitter', but the first word is way more important.

But he was adaptable and, as much as he'd like to gripe and complain about it, he had someone in his corner. Even if the 'someone' was Dimple, it was someone. Someone willing to help him learn to fake it till he made it. Someone willing to keep his smug little mouth shut for the greater good.

Someone who was happy to earn his pay.

"You're getting better at this," Dimple remarked around a mouthful of ghost. Reigen grimaced as he swallowed the awful skittering thing—the grudge that had been haunting Himiko, his upstairs neighbor—and added, "I can't believe Shigeo hasn't noticed."

"I can." Exorcisms left Reigen feeling weird. Oily and slick and choked up, the ever-present pressure in his chest swelling and choking him after excessive uses of his (Mob's) power. "For the first time in his life, Mob can be a kid. He isn't worrying about anything else. He trusts me."

"That must eat you up inside." Dimple wasn't wrong but...he wasn't going to tell him that.

"No more than performing exorcisms for free does."

"So a lot." Dimple wouldn't stop laughing, even after Reigen sent him a sharp look and shock of psychic energy.

For all his bitching and moaning, he was deeply grateful to the evil spirit. If Dimple hadn't been so gracious as to teach Reigen the intricacies of exorcisms and psychic powers—down to the finest bit of aura control, so he wasn't projecting his emotions to every spiritually sensitive person in a ten kilometer radius—he would have absolutely blown his cover within twenty four hours of the revelation. His guidance, no matter how frustratingly smug, allowed Reigen to keep up the lie.

Their first client the day they opened back up—genuinely upset about how infrequent the hours of Spirits and Such had been the past week, and unwilling to accept Reigen's half-assed 'medical emergencies' excuse—was someone being haunted by the negative emotions of a bitter relative. Reigen had to swallow a wave of horror and nausea as the haunting—a centipede-like thing made of desiccated human heads and human arms, covered in bristling hair with a mouth on its underside with teeth-like ribs gnawing on the client's back—made eye-contact with him and spoke.

The client couldn't hear it and, until days before, neither could Reigen. Its voice was like dozens of screaming people, clamoring to be heard, wet and choked. "Tell this piece of shit he's running out of flesh. We want him with us, deep below. Tell him that."

Reigen cordially wove together a palatable tale as Dimple whispered details in his ear, low enough that Mob couldn't hear. The thing was a grudge, obvious by how attached and insectoid it was. The formality with the client meant it was from someone close to him. The flaying of his back meant someone was resentful of his success. They wanted him to lose everything. Burden him. So Reigen Arataka, the Greatest Pscyhic of the 21st Century would exorcise it, of course!

His first public (ish) exorcism was clunky and not at all as flashy as he would have liked—he really just held his hand out, used his powers to tear down the grudge's defenses, then tossed the remnants to Dimple, while the client only saw a fancy light show—but the results were obvious. As it was, the payment he received and the knowledge that his hard work would pay off was enough to keep him from complaining...out loud.

(He still kept seeing the way the grudge twitched and shuddered, human enough to be uncanny but inhuman enough to make the bottom drop out of his stomach. Seeing spirits, ghosts or otherwise, would probably always be horrific. He wasn't sure how Mob could have handled seeing such things his whole life without going mad.)

Read the Rest on AO3

#mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #champion #the sheepy writes fic #i took a hiatus here #and wont be posting until march at the earliest #(my b yall) #but i am gonna finish this #just trust me #a kissaroo from me to queue #fucking forgot the link #edited it back in #sorry

[lavendarneverlands]

I absolutely love this shot from Infinity War and crossovers, so I thought this would make a good look for the Astro Ambassadors. Especially if Daisy had a power up as she grows, and heads into Secret Invasion and Secret Wars. I also saw similiarites in this Wanda and Daisy post Jiaying in s7 the same mad woman vibe. So here’s an edit I made: (Please let’s fandom, make stories, vids, and more edits. And properly credit please!)

(First the first of all drafts with Daisy as Destroyer of worlds)

Next I tried to make a similar edit but with Daisy and Sousa as a team (from different show moments with all shared vibes)

The second photo I tried to make as a reversal repaying the favor of taking care of Sousa as he did her (same with Kora above)

Next I wanted a more Daisy styled power like an EarthQuake - Terrigen blast for the Inhumans - Mutants and more Marvel Rising comics style, and growth kinda like her Rainbow Blasts you can almost see in big Quakes plus already in canon, … and who knows what would’ve happened in the interim especially if it’s her Hula Girl in WandaVision and Loki. Plus I always wonder about the centipede serum and now that plus Koras revival her powers are pretty much limitless.

Finally some Logos so it had a more poster feel

So there’s some randomness I’m working on :-)

Let’s Fandom about it!

#marvel edit #aos edit #daisy johnson edit #daisy johnson #daniel sousa #kora #daisy johnson x daniel sousa #dousy #agents of shield #agents of sword #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #agents of s.w.o.r.d. #marvel #fandom edit #mcu #ships #teams #secret invasion #secret war #wandavision #infinity war #power up #crossover #next story #aesthetic #manip #fandom #edit #lavendar neverland edit #lavendar edits

[wolfpee]

the inhuman centipede yes yes ive heard of it...thats the movie about the centipede who isnt anything like a human at all...