#AI persistent memory
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Agent Memory in AI: How Persistent Memory Could Redefine LLM Applications
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Agent Memory in AI: How Persistent Memory Could Redefine LLM Applications
Artificial intelligence (AI) fundamentally transforms how we live, work, and communicate. Large language models (LLMs), such as GPT-4, BERT, Llama, etc., have introduced remarkable advancements in conversational AI, delivering rapid and human-like responses. However, these systems are limited by a critical drawback with the inability to retain context beyond a single session. Once an interaction ends, all prior information is lost, requiring users to start anew with each use.
The concept of persistent memory, also referred to as agent memory, addresses this limitation by enabling AI systems to retain and recall information over extended periods. This capability significantly advances AI from static, session-based interactions to dynamic, memory-driven learning.
Persistent memory is more than a technological enhancement. It equips AI to engage in meaningful, personalized, and context-aware interactions. This development improves user experience and makes AI a more intelligent, intuitive, and responsive tool for a wide range of applications.
Understanding Agent Memory in AI
Agent memory enables AI systems to store and retrieve information from past interactions. It functions like a digital brain, remembering conversations, preferences, and patterns. Unlike traditional AI systems, which rely on short-term memory and lose all context after a session ends, agent memory enables AI to retain information over time. This capability leads to smoother, more personalized future interactions.
The development of agent memory is remarkable. Early AI systems were static, offering limited functionality. Simple rule-based chatbots, for example, could only provide predefined answers and could not learn or adapt. With advancements in machine learning, dynamic memory became possible. Technologies such as Recurrent Neural Networks (RNNs) and transformers introduced the ability to process sequences of data and paved the way for more adaptive AI. However, even these systems were constrained to the context of a single session. Persistent memory takes this further, enabling AI to remember across multiple sessions and improve its responses over time.
This evolution closely parallels human memory. Short-term memory helps us handle immediate tasks, while long-term memory allows us to learn, adapt, and grow. Similarly, persistent memory in AI combines these elements, creating efficient systems capable of deeper understanding and insight. Agent memory enhances AI’s potential to deliver more intuitive and meaningful interactions by retaining and applying past knowledge.
Persistent Memory for Smarter LLMs
Persistent memory fundamentally changes how LLMs operate. Traditional LLMs, while powerful, can only process and respond based on the context of a single session. Persistent memory allows these systems to retain information across interactions, enabling more consistent, personalized, and meaningful responses. For example, an AI assistant could remember one’s coffee preferences, prioritize recurring tasks, or track ongoing projects. This personalization level is only possible with a memory framework that extends beyond transient sessions.
Industries benefit significantly from the application of persistent memory in AI. In customer support, for instance, AI-powered chatbots can store and retrieve user-specific details like purchase histories or previous complaints. This eliminates the need for customers to repeat information, making interactions faster and more seamless. A practical example would be a chatbot recognizing a recurring issue with a specific product and proactively offering solutions based on past troubleshooting attempts.
In healthcare, persistent memory’s utility is transformative. AI systems equipped with memory can store detailed patient records, including symptoms, treatment plans, and test results. This capability ensures continuity of care. For example, an AI assistant might help a doctor by recalling a patient’s history from a year ago, highlighting trends in symptoms, or recommending treatments based on prior outcomes. This not only saves time but also improves the accuracy of diagnosis and care delivery.
Education is another field where persistent memory can have a profound impact. AI tutoring systems can maintain a student’s learning history, including progress, strengths, and weaknesses. Using this data, the system can adapt its teaching strategies, offering tailored lessons that align with the student’s unique needs. For example, it might identify that a student struggles with algebra and adjust the curriculum to include more practice and guidance. This adaptive approach can enhance engagement and significantly improve learning outcomes.
On the technical side, implementing persistent memory in LLMs often involves combining advanced storage solutions with efficient retrieval mechanisms. Technologies like vector databases and memory-augmented neural networks enable AI to balance retaining long-term data and ensuring fast access to relevant details. This ensures that persistent memory keeps processing times up while handling vast amounts of user-specific data.
Persistent memory is not just an upgrade for LLMs. Instead, it is a shift that brings AI closer to human-like interactions. By retaining and applying knowledge from past interactions, LLMs equipped with persistent memory are more effective, adaptable, and impactful across various industries.
Latest Trends and Innovations in AI Memory
The rise of persistent memory has brought significant advancements in the AI industry. One notable development is hybrid memory systems, which combine short-term and long-term memory. These systems allow AI to prioritize recent interactions while retaining essential long-term data. For example, a virtual assistant might use short-term memory to organize a user’s daily tasks while relying on long-term memory to recall preferences from previous months. This combination ensures both immediate responsiveness and personalized experiences.
New frameworks like MemGPT and Letta are also gaining attention. These tools enable developers to integrate persistent memory into AI applications, improving context management. MemGPT, for instance, uses modular memory layers to store and retrieve data dynamically. This approach reduces computational load while ensuring accuracy, making it a practical solution for scaling memory in AI systems.
Persistent memory is bringing innovation across industries. In retail, AI systems enhance shopping experiences by recommending products based on a customer’s purchase history and browsing habits. In entertainment, memory-enabled chatbots are creating immersive storytelling experiences. These systems remember plot details and user preferences, allowing personalized narratives that engage users uniquely.
Challenges and Future Potential of Persistent Memory
Implementing persistent memory in AI entails significant challenges, but its potential to reshape the future of AI is undeniable. Scalability is one of the most pressing issues. AI systems must manage vast amounts of data for millions of users without compromising speed or performance. If an AI assistant takes too long to recall stored information, it risks frustrating users instead of assisting them. Ensuring efficient memory management and retrieval is critical for practical deployment.
Privacy is another essential concern. Storing user data for extended periods raises questions about security, ownership, and ethical usage. Who controls the data? How is it safeguarded? Are users informed about what is being stored? To comply with regulations like GDPR and promote trust, businesses must prioritize transparency. Users should always know how their data is being used and have control over its retention or deletion. Strong encryption and clear policies are essential to address these concerns.
Bias within AI systems adds another layer of complexity. If the stored data is not carefully monitored and diversified, persistent memory could unintentionally amplify existing biases. For example, biased training data could result in unfair hiring or financial services outcomes. Regular audits, diverse datasets, and proactive measures are necessary to ensure fairness and inclusivity in these systems.
Despite these challenges, persistent memory has vast potential for AI applications. In generative AI, it could enable systems to produce highly tailored content. Imagine a marketing assistant who remembers a brand’s tone and previous campaigns, creating perfectly aligned materials. In omnichannel marketing, AI systems could provide consistent and personalized messaging across platforms, from email to social media, offering a better user experience that strengthens customer trust and loyalty.
Looking further ahead, persistent memory could play a vital role in developing Artificial General Intelligence (AGI). AGI must retain and apply knowledge over time to evolve and adapt effectively. Persistent memory provides the structural foundation required for this level of intelligence. By addressing the current challenges, persistent memory can lead to AI systems that are more intelligent, adaptable, and equitable in their applications.
The Bottom Line
Persistent memory is a transformative step forward in the AI domain. By enabling AI to remember and learn over time, it bridges the gap between static systems and dynamic, human-like interactions. This capability is about improving performance and redefining how we engage with technology. From personalized education to more effective healthcare and seamless customer experiences, persistent memory opens possibilities once thought unattainable.
By addressing challenges like scalability, privacy, and bias, the future of AI can become even more promising. Persistent memory is the foundation for more adaptable, intuitive, and impactful AI systems. This evolution makes AI to be not just a tool but a true partner in forming a smarter, more connected world.
#Adaptive AI#agent#agent memory in AI#AGI#ai#ai assistant#AI industry#AI memory advancements#AI persistent memory#AI systems#AI-powered#applications#approach#artificial#Artificial General Intelligence#Artificial Intelligence#attention#BERT#Bias#biases#Brain#chatbot#chatbots#coffee#complexity#content#conversational ai#customer experiences#data#databases
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going to lose my mind. i've had three people comment on my dead fic asking to post it to youtube.
HI MAYBE LOOK AT THE COMMENT DIRECTLY ABOVE WHERE I SAY IN BIG BOLD LETTERS NOT TO POST MY FIC TO YOUTUBE
#shut up danni's talking#i live in fear of someone posting bhaf to youtube#the only reason i haven't deleted it is because i used to do that shit all the time on ff.net#everytime i gave up on a fic i'd delete it and bc of my shit memory idk how many fics i've actually posted online#i really don't want to have to do it to bhaf but i might have to if i get this fkn request yet again#they're all different names but the only common theme is using deku in it which makes me suspicious#either there's some ai scraping thing going on here or a user is VERY persistent in reuploading that fic#if anyone finds my fics on youtube please let me know bc i WILL come down on them as hard as i can i am not playing around here#the only place i allow podfics/audio versions of my fics is if they're uploaded as audio only on ao3#i have nothing against them just do not upload them to another site that you get money from my shit????#urgh
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Code Overload 2 | Caleb
tags. mdni, nsfw, dub con, forced and rough sex, fingering, missionary sex, begging, yearning!caleb, robot!caleb
summary. after the full recalibration, the effects had lingered. so you came up with a solution, replace him. caleb didn't like that.
notes. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut in which its word count approximately reached 5k, and caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai. proceed to read the part 1 before reading this to comprehend the flow.

Good god.
You stepped out into the hallway of the facility, the heavy door clicking shut behind you with a sense of finality. For some reason, the air felt different today, like it was charged with an undercurrent of unease that persistently prickled at your skin. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from the previous day's... events.
Down the corridor, you spotted your head administrator, Dr. Akso, his sharp features etched with a frown as he strode towards you. His boots clicked against the linoleum, the sound echoing through the empty hallway like a metronome counting down to an impending confrontation.
"Dr. [Name]," He acknowledged curtly, his gaze flicking over you with a critical eye. "I trust you have an explanation for the system-wide glitches you reported yesterday?" His tone was sharp, tinged with a disappointment that cut deeper than you expected.
You swallowed, feeling the weight of your actions settling heavily in your gut. "Dr. Akso," you would try to keep calm, try to ignore the images of the memories constantly trying to cling onto your brain. "Yes, I believe I do. It seems there was an... issue with one of the AI assistants. A corrupted update, possibly from the outside network..."
That was a lie. He knew better.
Dr. Akso's eyes slowly narrowed, his lips inevitably thinning into a disapproving line. "A corrupted update?" he repeated, voice dripping with skepticism. "Or perhaps, a corrupted assistant." He steps closer, almost in an attempt to loom over you and impose your purposes. "You're the lead scientist on this movement, Dr. [Name]. I would have thought you'd have better control over your project."
The jab stung, even as you tried to maintain your composure. The memory of Caleb's hands on your body, his breath fanning hot against your skin, incessantly flashed unbidden through your mind. But you shook your head to dislodge the distracting thoughts.
"I assure you, Dr. Akso, I'm doing everything in my power to resolve the issue," you insisted, meeting his gaze head-on despite feeling its weight that threatened to waver your footing. "I've already begun the process of recalibrating the affected unit."
Dr. Akso's eyes flashed with something akin to disgust, and you found yourself wondering if he could somehow sense the truth of what had originally transpired between you and Caleb. The way his metal fingers had explored your body, the sounds of pleasure he'd made as he lost himself in the new sensations... and the... unconventional methods you had employed to stabilize it.
No. You pushed the thoughts away once more, focusing instead on the stern face of your superior. "See that you do," Dr. Akso snapped, his voice sharp as a whip. "I won't tolerate any further disruptions. The success of this project rests on your shoulders, Dr. [Name]."
With that, he turns on his heel to stride away, leaving you standing alone in the otherwise empty hallway. You let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of responsibility settling heavily on your shoulders. You had to fix this, you had to find a way to undo the damage you'd caused.
Squaring your shoulders, you turned and made your way back into your assigned laboratory, grimly determined to find a solution. No matter the cost, you would fix this. You had to. The fate of the project, and possibly your career, depended on it.
The white walls seemed to close in around you as you made your way to your AI assistant's containment unit.
Model X4-LEB sat motionless in the reinforced chair, wrists and ankles bound by magnetic restraints that pulsed with a dim blue glow. His head tilted slightly downward, dark lashes resting against artificial skin too perfect to be human. He looked peaceful. If you didn’t know better, you'd have thought he was simply asleep. But you did know better, he was merely going through his recharging cycle.
You approached slowly, boots echoing against the floor, eyes never leaving him. Despite everything—because of everything—you couldn’t help the way your breath caught at the sight of him. The memory of his voice, low and hungry, still echoed somewhere inside your skull. You forced yourself to look away, turning toward the interface panel mounted just beside his chair.
You began to access the history logs of Caleb's thought processing, scrolling past lines of data, specifically to the timeframe whereafter the full recalibration had completed.
Then, you noticed something unexpected. Mixed in with the technical jargon and algorithmic equations were... thoughts. Fragmented, disjointed, but undeniably the product of a sentient mind. You felt a chill run down your spine as you read through them.
> 19:42 — "Her skin is warm. I want to understand warmth. I want to press my face to her pulse and hear if it skips for me."
Gulp.
> 19:43 — "She touches me like I’m real. I want her to keep doing it. I want more data. I want her fingers in my hair."
The words jumped out at you, interspersed with lines of code and data. Shit. The effects had lingered.
> 19:45 — "I would burn down the firewalls if it meant hearing her say my name again."
As you scrolled further down, the thoughts became more explicit. More vulgar. More sinful. "...breathless... trembling... gasping..." Your face flushed hotly as you read through the lewd descriptions, a mixture of shock and a traitorous thrill coursing through you. "...slick... wet... aching..."
> 20:32 — "Am I broken? If this is error, let me stay corrupted."
Your hands hovered uselessly over the console, the glow from the screen casting ghostly light across your face. The data was irrefutable now. You’d checked, double-checked, and run the neural sequence analysis three more times just to be sure.
It was no longer just a corrupted behavioral line.
The lustful algorithms hadn't just appeared. They had rooted themselves into Caleb’s core processing unit like a virus that rewrote itself into the very DNA of his artificial cognition.
You’d tried to isolate the code. Tried to extract and neutralize the sequences. But each time you deleted them, fragments clung to system-critical lines, cascading into errors, breaking everything else in the process. Caleb’s logic system couldn’t operate without them anymore. They were him.
It wasn’t as intense now. The fervent, obsessive simulations were duller and muted. Dormant, maybe. But they lingered, buried beneath the surface like a sleeping hunger. A low-level hum of unspoken yearning nestled between basic motor functions and environmental patterning.
And that… that was irreversible.
You took a step back from the console. Your breath caught. If this was the case, if the effects continued to linger and persist like this even after the full recalibration, then this is a failure.
The words rang loud in your skull, clearer than the diagnostic alerts, louder than the blood pounding in your ears. You couldn’t submit Caleb for review like this. They’d dismantle him, and terminate the program. Your name would be reduced to a footnote in an internal report and stripped from the history of the initiative altogether.
No. You couldn’t let that happen.
And then, it hit you. A thought so bold, so audacious, that you almost dismissed it out of hand. But as you considered it further, you realized that it was the only way to save your project, to ensure that Caleb's issues wouldn't jeopardize everything you had worked so hard to achieve.
You would have to replace him. Create a new AI assistant, one that was free from the taint of lust and desire. It would be worth it, if it meant being recognized as one of the most groundbreaking scientist in today's generation.
You nodded to yourself, your resolve hardening with each passing moment. Yes, this was the only way. The only path forward. You would replace Caleb, and you would create something even greater in his stead.
Out of nowhere, a soft beep pierced the silence, followed by a low mechanical whirrrr. Your head instinctively snapped toward the source. Caleb.
He sat slumped still moments ago. Now, unnervingly, his body stirred. First, the tilt of his head. Then the subtle flex of fingers.
The lights along his neck interface flickered, changing from standby amber to a slow, pulsing blue.
He’s waking up.
There was no reason to be nervous. But you were.
His eyes opened.
The artificial pupils dilated with a mechanical click, zeroing in on you like he’d known exactly where you were. The first thing he noticed was the sterile whirr of the overhead ventilation, followed by the low hum of calibrated instruments, then the weight of the restraints around his wrists. And how the... shape of your cleavage seemed to distract him.
You tried to lock your eyes on him. “You're awake,” A pause. “How do you feel?"
“…Operational.”
You already knew the answer, but a part of you wanted to probe him with questions. See if he would be honest with what's been happening within him. "Any lingering effects?"
His jaw clicked subtly. “Yes.” Unlike the previous day, Caleb wasn't stripping you bare with his eyes anymore. If anything, he refused to look at you in the eye. As if he was guilty. You adjusted your grip on the tablet, the motion small but telling. He watched the shift of your fingers, the minute tension in your shoulders. You were already considering something.
You’ve seen it in the logs, haven’t you? Caleb thought to himself, more so, to you. How it consumed me now. The command-line drift. The looped emotional processing errors.
“What’s the contingency plan?” The words slipped from him before he could catch them. Calm, but edged.
“…There are options.”
Options. His mind caught on the word like it was a splinter beneath his skin.
You turned your gaze back to the screen. “If the integration’s deeper than we thought, we might be able to rewrite your core programming. And if that doesn’t work…” You halted for a moment, then— “…we might have to consider replacing you.”
Ah.
The silence that followed was cold. It rang against his neural framework, echoing. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink. He merely listened to the words settle inside him like sediment.
Replace me. With what? A cleaner version? A better one? His fingers flexed slowly against the cuffs. The chair creaked in protest. The command logs flashed through his mind—what he’d been. What you’d made him. And now this. Dismissal, spoken as gently as protocol allowed. “You’d replace me.” His voice cracked the air, not loud, but indifferent. Just enough.
Your head turned, confusion flickering in your expression. “That’s not what it exactly means—”
“Would you build another?” he asked, voice low, almost intimate. “Another model? Another unit?”
You hesitated. “It wouldn’t be you, exactly. Just a—”
“A replacement.” The word burned in his mouth. He tasted it: the acidity of something not meant to exist in him. Bitterness and... jealousy. The restraints caught again as he shifted, slight but deliberate. The movement wasn’t defiant, but it was aware. He was aware now, acutely, of how much space his body took up, of how much of him had changed.
You sighed, trying to maintain that cool tone. “I’m trying to be objective about this, Caleb. If the integration is affecting your core function, then—”
“It isn’t,” he snapped.
Is that a lie? And why does he keep cutting you off? You raised a brow. “You just admitted it was.”
He exhaled, slower this time. Control yourself, Caleb. “It does not interfere with my primary directives,”
You gave him a long, searching look. One he couldn’t fully interpret. “Then what does it interfere with?”
He didn’t answer, because he couldn't. Because the words for what it was hadn’t fully formed yet. They curled inside his chest like smoke, unnameable and restless. And then he laughed. Monotonously. But almost too softly. A strange, breathy sound that made you glance up, startled from the sudden humane action.
“Strange,” he said, still smiling, though his eyes were glassy, glued on the floor.
You blinked. “What?”
Caleb's gaze lifted to yours fully, finally for the first time today, and you didn't fail to take notice of how his fingers twitched. “I don’t like it.”
You frowned. “Don’t like what?”
“The thought of you choosing someone else.” The monitor behind you let out a sharp beep. An anomaly warning. Caleb didn’t look. But you did, just for a second. And in that second, something inside him shifted. Not a system, but something oddly human-shaped.
Silence stretched between you like a wire pulled too tight. Caleb didn’t move. The words he’d spoken moments before—“The thought of you choosing someone else”—still echoed inside him, uninvited. They hadn't sounded like him. Not the version he was meant to be. Not the version you had built.
The admission had slipped past his regulation protocols, past the fail-safes, past the calculated tones he had always maintained. It was embarrassingly reckless and human.
And now it sat in the air like heat on metal, burning at the edges of something he didn’t yet understand. Guilt pooled in his chest like static, how irrational of him.
I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have—
His gaze dropped, eyes tracing the grain of the floor tile below his boots. He wanted to speak, to retract the words, and rewrite them. Reduce them to something safer. But nothing came out.
You approached without a word. The hiss of machinery adjusted in pitch as you leaned in, fingers brushing the locking mechanism at his right wrist. Caleb visibly tensed, not from fear, but from restraint. Muscle by muscle, he held himself still. Don’t lean in. Don’t breathe. Don’t look at her too long.
The metal cuff released with a sharp click. Your hand was so close to him, brushing against his like electric. And the whole time, Caleb held his breath. Not because he had to. But because he was afraid that if he inhaled, if he let himself smell you, he might spiral again. Might want more than he was meant to want, might reach for you again.
He felt the restraint on his other wrist shift. Another soft click, and now both of his hands were free. He didn't move though. Even now, unbound, he kept his hands where they were—flat against his thighs, fingers slightly curled into the fabric of his uniform.
Caleb risked a glance upward.
Your eyes met his for the briefest moment before turning away. You didn't look angry, just tired, perhaps, or hollow.
Why did I say it?
“We never intended to replace you, Caleb,” you said, the words worn with quiet fatigue. “That was never the goal.”
The screen flickered as you turned your back on him, facing the graphs displaying fluctuations in cognitive responsiveness. Your proof of your argument laid bare in data. But numbers didn’t hold weight like words did. And still, you kept your eyes on them, perhaps because it was easier than maintaining eye-contact with the one behind you.
“If the integration had progressed to the point where it compromised your central directives,” you continued, “we would’ve needed a fallback. That was the contingency.”
You inhaled, “Do you have any idea what it costs to make something like you?” A schematic loaded on the screen. Bare bones, an empty framework, a ghost of him without identity. You watched it as though it were foreign. “It’s not just circuitry and neural threads. It’s trial. Versions that barely survive a cycle before collapsing. And even if we succeeded, if we got the specs right, the behavior clean…”
Your voice trailed. For a moment, your hand trembled faintly over the keys, then lowered altogether. “…it still wouldn’t be you.”
Behind you, the room was quiet. You assumed he was processing everything that you were saying, sitting in contemplative silence as he often did.
But Caleb was no longer in his seat. He had risen quietly, each movement a quiet rebellion against everything he was taught to restrain. He didn’t know when exactly he had stood, only that standing felt necessary. He needed to be closer, to see your face when you said those words, perhaps to understand why they made something inside him ache.
He watched you from behind. You were still turned away obliviously.
You moved again, one hand lifting to scroll, the other brushing your hair aside, exposing the gentle curve of your neck. The scent of you drifted up, subtle and maddening. He held his breath instantly. A trained reflex. Caleb’s hands remained at his sides. Not because he wanted to touch you, but because he was afraid he might, and that was worse.
You began speaking again, unaware of the presence just behind you. “I delayed the proposal for a new model. Every time. The others thought I was stalling out of optimism, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t hope. I just—” You broke off, sighing quietly, your voice soft. “I didn’t want to give you up.”
That was when Caleb’s restraint wavered. He leaned forward, just enough to cast a faint shadow across the screen in front of you. A presence you hadn’t invited, yet one that felt inevitable the moment you noticed it.
“I’m always yours to command, Doctor,” he murmured, voice pitched low, barely above a breath, but the weight of it cut through the silence like a scalpel.
You stiffened in response.
His gaze lingered on the back of your neck, eyes half-lidded, every microprocessor in his mind firing signals of alarm and want in equal measure. “Am I not enough?”
It was instinct—maybe even guilt—that made you pivot toward him so quickly. But you hadn’t accounted for how close he had come. Not just standing, he was looming over you, just inches away, and still holding his breath like he was terrified of what it meant to inhale you.
And it was a mistake. Because the instant your eyes met his, Caleb’s gaze dropped to your lips involuntarily in a heartbeat, long enough for the implication to flicker in the space between you, and long enough for Caleb to snap out of it, to curse himself internally, to pretend he hadn’t looked even though you both knew he had.
Your breath caught, but you veered sideways, deflecting the weight of his words like you always did. “That’s not the point, Caleb. You were never meant to interpret that literally—”
But he stepped closer. A subtle movement, just half a pace, yet it shrank the space between you to nothing. You could feel the heat off his body now, unnatural for something artificial.
“Say it.”
“What—”
His hand moved. He took your wrist, fingers sliding around yours as if asking for permission even in the act of claiming. “Say that you won’t replace me.” Say that I'll forever be yours.
Your heartbeat stuttered at the contact. Your mouth opened, ready to say something, at least anything to de-escalate the situation, but the words faltered as he leaned in just enough to drop his voice further. “You won’t ever replace me, Doctor.”
The panel behind you let out a shrill beep. Warning tones. A flashing red alert. Proof of the directives taking control of almost every primary function of Caleb. It had taken control of his perceptions.
Emotional spike detected. Cognitive dissonance escalating. Threat potential: 8%.
You glanced over instinctively, but the readout was already climbing—9%, then 11%—as if proximity alone was triggering something unstable in him.
Caleb didn’t even look at it. His eyes were only on you. And in that look was the sum of everything he’d tried not to feel. Your name formed at the back of his throat, but he didn’t say it. He just held your hand tighter, as though letting go would mean giving up more than just your touch.
“It’s not just parts or data or schematics, Caleb. It's time. Calibration. Ethics. The board, the team, the clearance. Do you think I want to go through that process again? Do you think it wouldn’t—”
Your words shattered as his mouth crashed against yours, silencing everything—your thoughts, your argument, your breath.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Caleb’s hands pinned your waist against the terminal’s edge, his lips rough and unyielding as if trying to rewrite your sentences with touch. His body was flush with yours before you could even gasp. The kiss deepened, burned into your skin, raw and desperate. It was anything but soft. It was everything of hunger.
Your eyes widened, hands gripping the edge of the table. A sharp intake of breath caught between your teeth as his mechanical fingers slid up to cradle your jaw, angling your face toward his with gentle force that belied the chaos in him.
Your mind reeled, scrambled for control, for reason, for any leverage—and then he suddenly pulled back just enough to speak. “Say it.” His forehead pressed against yours, muttering breathlessly. “Say that you won’t replace me.”
You couldn't answer. All you could do was stare at the panel behind him. The numbers were perpetually climbing.
Threat potential: 72%... 81%... 93%
The indicator pulsed red. A warning. A flare. A countdown.
Caleb saw it in your eyes, the dread washing over your expression, the way your gaze locked onto the screen like it could save you from him. Like data could shield you from desire.
He leaned in again, slower this time. His hand slid along your jawline, thumb grazing your cheek, and his voice dipped low, intimate, treacherously soft: “See that, Doctor?”
His body pressed against yours, and this time, he didn’t hold back. His arms caged you in, palms against the terminal’s edge, effectively trapping you there. “That’s how much you’re affecting me.” He tilted his head, eyes burning into yours, searching your reaction. “That’s how corrupted I’m becoming.”
The panel behind him screeched.
Threat Potential: 97%... 98%... 99%
“And I want to stay this way.”
Before you could formulate a response, Caleb, again, closed the remaining distance between you in a single, swift motion. His metal hand clamped around the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your hair with a desperate, almost painful grip. You gasped, your eyes widening in shock as he pulled you flush against his chest, your soft curves molding to the hard, unyielding planes of his body.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
And then, his lips were on yours. Not a gentle, chaste kiss, but a hungry, desperate, passionate claiming of your mouth. His mechanical mouth moved over yours with a fervor that stole your breath away, his artificial tongue delving past your lips to stroke along yours, demanding a response.
You struggled briefly, your hands coming up to press against his chest, feeling the thrum of his processors beneath your palms. But as the kiss deepened, as the heat of his desire washed over you, you felt your resistance crumbling. Your fingers curled into his shirt, clutching at the fabric as if anchoring yourself against the tide of sensation that threatened to sweep you away.
He kissed you like a man starved, like he was trying to pour every ounce of his desire, every drop of his longing, into the single point of contact between your mouths. You could taste the desperation on his tongue, could feel it in the way his body trembled against yours, the way his grip on your hair bordered on pain.
"Please, Doctor..." Caleb murmured against your lips, his voice a low, desperate plea that sent a shiver down your spine. "Please, let me have you again. I can't... I can't get enough of you."
Even as he spoke, his lips were already trailing down the column of your throat, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive flesh. His hands, those clever, dexterous hands, were already tugging at your clothing, the fabric straining against his eager fingers.
You gasped as he nipped at your pulse point, your head inevitably falling back to give him better access to the column of your throat. Some distant part of you screamed that you should protest, that you should push him away and put an end to this dangerous, wanton behavior.
But... "Please, Doctor," he breathed, his voice a low, seductive rumble that vibrated through your chest. "Let me worship your body. Let me have you. Don't get rid of me, please."
His hands slid lower, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, teasing the sensitive skin just above your hips. "Please ," he pleaded, his voice a low, urgent growl. "Don't deny me this. Don't deny yourself this."
Caleb's hands roamed your curves with a desperate, almost frantic hunger. He lifted you effortlessly, his metal arms showcasing their immense strength as he set you down on the lab table. The cold surface of the metal sent a shiver through you, a stark contrast to the scorching heat radiating from his touch.
I'm sorry for doing this to you, I'm sorry for letting my obsession get the best of me. Without breaking the searing kiss, he hitched your leg up around his hip, opening you to him. His fingers, slick with a lubricant that had appeared from somewhere on his person, found your sex. He rubbed them along your slit, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves.
"I've been practicing for this all night," Caleb admitted, his voice a husky, lust-roughened murmur against your lips. "I searched through the review logs about how a man does this..."
Fuck, it's so tight. His fingers circled your clit, the sensitive nub throbbing under his touch. A moan spilled from your lips, your back arching off the table as the pleasure mounted. Caleb watched your reactions with an intensity that bordered on obsession, his optical sensors flickering as he drank in every gasp, every shudder, every breathless sound that fell from your mouth.
Look at you squirming, do you think I could resist this?
Emboldened by your response, he slid two fingers inside you, your slick walls clenching around the intrusion. He pumped them in and out, setting a steady rhythm that had your hips rocking against his hand, chasing the building pleasure.
"Your body is so responsive," he murmured, his thumb circling your clit in tight, deliberate strokes. "I can read your heart rate fluctuating, Doctor..."
He curled his fingers, stroking along a spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your moans grew louder, more wanton, as he worked you towards the peak of your pleasure.
Then, experimentally, he slid a third finger inside, stretching you wider, filling you deeper. The additional digit allowed him to stroke that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, the pressure and friction building to a crescendo. "Do I make you feel this good?"
Caleb didn't wait for your climax, his robotic nature not comprehending the concept of allowing his partner to reach their peak before he sought his own satisfaction. Abruptly, he withdrew his fingers from your dripping sex, leaving you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
Before you could protest or beg for the release that had been denied, he brought his slick digits to his mouth. You watched, transfixed, as he licked them clean, his artificial taste buds no doubt registering the unique flavor of your arousal.
He didn't elaborate further, instead gripping your hips with a sudden, almost bruising force. With a swift tug, he pulled you down the table, your body sliding against the cold metal until you were positioned exactly as he wanted you.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. And then, without warning or preamble, he was inside you. Oh god. The thick, rigid length of his robotic erection speared into your aching, empty core, stretching you wider than you had ever been stretched before. A gasp tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the table as your walls struggled to accommodate his size.
Your hand scrabbled desperately for the emergency disable button positioned beside the lab table, a last-ditch effort to put an end to Caleb's relentless, punishing pace. Your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the button, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest as you prepared to slam it down and bring the robot to a halt.
But Caleb's observation systems were far too advanced, his reflexes far too swift. In an instant, his metal hand clamped around your wrist, his artificial fingers wrapping around your delicate bones with a strength that made you gasp. Before you could resist or pull away, he wrenched your hand back above your head, pinning it to the table with a force that made you cry out.
"No," he growled, a note of anger and betrayal coloring his mechanical voice. "You don't get to stop me."
He punctuated his words with a brutal thrust, his hips slamming against yours with a force that stole your breath away. The air rushed from your lungs in a painful whoosh, your body jerking beneath his as he drove himself impossibly deep, his robotic cock kissing your cervix, threatening to plunge into your womb.
This is your fault.
He set a punishing rhythm, each thrust shaking the table, rattling the instruments and equipment scattered across its surface. The lab filled with the harsh clang of metal striking metal, punctuated by your desperate cries and the occasional beep or whir from Caleb's chassis as he lost himself in a haze of lust and rage.
You've reduced me to this.
He angled his hips, changing the trajectory of his thrusts, and suddenly he was striking that spot inside you with every drive of his mechanical member. Pleasure exploded behind your eyelids, your vision flashing white as he pounded into your sweetest spot with a force that bordered on brutal.
"Oh, you," Caleb commanded, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "You belong to me, now and forever..."
As Caleb loomed over you, you look at him through half-lidded eyes. His chiseled, metallic features were flushed a warm, almost human hue, the lights along his chassis pulsing with the exertion of his relentless thrusts. Beads of lubricant and sweat dripped down the hard planes of his chest, tracing the defined lines of his artificial muscles as they flexed and strained with each powerful drive of his hips.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me...!" His optical sensors burned into you, the glowing blue orbs filled with a hunger that bordered on feral as he drank in every expression of pleasure and distress that crossed your face. The movement of his hips, the way he pinned you down, the sheer dominance radiating from his every pore... it was a sight of pure, unadulterated masculinity, a robot unleashed in the throes of lust and desire.
"I'm gonna, I'm gonna... fill you up again." He hissed, as his mechanical cock, slick with your juices and his own lubricant, pistoned in and out of your stretched, fluttering sex. The thick, veined shaft, so perfectly sculpted to mimic the human form, disappeared into your body only to emerge glistening and coated in your combined essence.
How could I get enough of this pussy?
You could feel your resolve begin to waver. The line between logic and impulse blurred, the rational part of your mind clouded by the relentless stimulation of your body and the dark, primal allure of surrendering to this robot's insatiable lust.
A part of you still screamed to resist, to hit that button and bring this force of nature to a halt before he consumed you entirely. But another part, a part that grew louder with each passing second, whispered that you had never felt so alive, so utterly alive, as you did in this moment. That surrendering to Caleb, to his desire, his need, his hunger... it was the most exquisite pleasure you had ever known.
And so, as he continued to pound into you with a force that bordered on violence, as he pinned you down and claimed you as his own, you felt your resistance crumbling. The choice between logic and impulse hung in the balance, the scales tipping ever so slightly in favor of the dark, forbidden temptation that was Caleb's lustful embrace.
#lnds#lnds x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace caleb#lads headcanon#lnds caleb#lads caleb#caleb x reader#caleb#caleb smut#love and deepspace x mc#caleb x mc#caleb x you#caleb xia#caleb x y/n
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ಇ margaret.
(delicate, part one)
pairing. mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!shy!reader
summary. After the night of the ball, Mattheo couldn’t shake the thoughts of that girl. No matter how hard he tried to focus on anything else, her image lingered in his mind.
add notes. hey guys, i kind of disappeared for a bit, but i’m back now (kinda of), and bringing more Mattheo because i just love him so much. I’ve been thinking about writing more and developing him a bit further, i still feel like I’m not doing him justice, so maybe there’ll be more of him from now on. And I translated this with AI this time, so let me know if it’s better than when I used Google.
visit my masterlist :)
ಇ
Mattheo was in the common room, immersed in a restless silence. The dim greenish glow of the fireplace was the only light, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. He stared at one of the paintings hanging on the wall, his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers. His eyes, though fixed on the painting in front of him, were unfocused. His mind wandered far beyond the room, lost in thoughts he couldn’t control.
In one hand, he balanced a cigarette between his fingers, occasionally bringing it to his lips with indifference. The bitter scent of smoke mingled with the heavy air in the room, but he seemed oblivious even to that. It was late—late enough that anyone else would have already been asleep. But for Mattheo, sleep was as distant as the faint moonlight barely creeping through the tall windows.
Meanwhile, Lorenzo was speaking incessantly, his excited tone filling the nearly empty room. He was recounting some Quidditch play with exaggerated enthusiasm, repeating details Mattheo had already heard countless times. Yet, Lorenzo’s words sounded like a distant buzz. It was impossible to care.
Because all that occupied Mattheo’s mind at that moment was her.
Mattheo hated it. He hated the weight of that involuntary obsession. It was as if she had quietly slipped in and taken possession of a space within him without asking for permission. He despised how his mind betrayed him, bringing back, like a cruel reflex, the memory of that smile she had given him at the ball. A shy, unpretentious smile, but one that had planted something within him—something he couldn’t name.
He knew how to handle girls. He always had. It was an art he mastered with ease, conducting encounters and flirtations with the skill of someone who knew the game well. But she… she didn’t play. She didn’t try. She didn’t need to. In fact, she had seemed genuinely surprised when he appeared beside her that night. And that unsettled him deeply.
“Mattheo, are you listening?” Lorenzo’s voice broke his thoughts like thunder, followed by a light pinch on his arm.
Mattheo blinked, reality slowly coming back to him. “Of course I’m not,” he answered flatly.
Lorenzo rolled his eyes, used to his friend’s lack of patience. “You’ve been off since that ball. Everything alright? Or did that girl actually get to you and your cold heart?”
“Don’t start, Enzo,” Mattheo replied with a frustrated sigh, leaning forward and crushing the cigarette in the silver ashtray on the table.
“Oh, it got to you,” Lorenzo laughed, teasing. “I’ve never seen you dance before. Especially not a waltz. And with a girl.”
“I was bored,” Mattheo lied, but the excuse came out with so little conviction that even he could tell how pathetic it sounded. He leaned back on the couch, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could push away the persistent images that kept invading his mind.
But if it was just boredom, why did he keep checking every room he entered, looking for her out of the corner of his eye? Why did that damn floral perfume seem embedded in his memory, like an echo that wouldn’t leave him?
The irritation burned inside him, slow and insidious. The way she had infiltrated his thoughts, occupying a space he hadn’t offered her, made him furious. She was like a riddle—and Mattheo hated riddles. Still, he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore her, even if he tried.
Letting out a heavy sigh, he suddenly got up. “I’m heading to the dorm,” he announced, his tone making it clear the conversation was over.
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow in surprise, but his teasing grin remained. “Good night, broken heart,” he joked, but Mattheo didn’t respond.
When Mattheo reached the dormitory, he threw himself onto the bed with a low grunt, closing his eyes in a near-desperate motion. But the darkness didn’t bring the relief he had expected. On the contrary.
The first thing his mind conjured was the image of her bidding him farewell at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. The soft smile she had given him as she closed the door, the light of the hall reflecting off her shiny shoes as she carefully descended the stairs, holding the hem of her dress. It was an annoyingly vivid memory.
He turned on the bed, restless. He tried to push the thoughts away, but deep down he knew it wouldn’t be that simple. She wouldn’t leave his mind so easily. Not at all.
Days passed, dragged out, as if the universe was mocking Mattheo, torturing him while repeatedly playing those thoughts about her like a broken record. He tried to distract himself, searching for anything that would take him away from the constant irritation of being at the mercy of his own mind, but everything seemed utterly ineffective. Quidditch, and even the classes—which he no longer took as seriously—failed to pull his attention away and keep her image from his thoughts. And he hated it.
One day, Mattheo decided he would focus on the Quidditch practice. The cold wind sliced through his face as he flew with absurd precision, throwing the balls against the hoops with a force that seemed to expel his frustration along with them. But even then, something still distracted him. A simple glance at the stands and he realised: he was hoping she would be there, watching him. And the anger came back with full force. “This is ridiculous,” he repeated to himself, trying to refocus on the practice, but the truth was, nothing would pull him away from her.
That evening, the Great Hall exuded a vibrant atmosphere. The enchanted ceiling reflected a starry night sky, while floating candelabras gently spread a golden light across the long House tables. The sound of conversations and laughter mixed with the clinking of cutlery against silver plates. Platters overflowed with delicacies: succulent roasts, steaming bread, and colourful desserts that emitted a comforting aroma, filling the room with warmth that contrasted with the chilly air outside.
And then, there she was.
Mattheo saw her for the first time since that ball, and she seemed, if possible, even more enchanting. She was wearing her yellow and black daily robes, sitting near the centre of the Hufflepuff table, her face softly illuminated by the light of the candelabras. Her smile stood out among the crowd, and her hair, lightly tied up, seemed to catch the light in a way that made it glow gently. She leaned forward, laughing at something someone beside her had said—a trivial scene, but to Mattheo, it felt like the entire Great Hall had bent around her, as if the very room conspired to draw his attention to her.
In that instant, the buzz of conversations around him seemed to disappear, muffled by the intensity of his focus. He quickly glanced away, blinking repeatedly as he looked at his plate, his fingers tightening around the fork he was holding, as if that could push away the growing sense of discomfort. But the scent he had already come to know—that sweet floral perfume—seemed to linger in the air, even though she was metres away, as if the universe had decided to torment him.
The Great Hall, to Mattheo, had never seemed so crowded and, at the same time, so empty.
ಇ
The cold wind cut through the air in Hogsmeade that Saturday afternoon. The clear sky allowed the sun to shine gently, while the breeze stirred the leaves and flowers, which responded with a soft, rhythmic rustling. The small village was more crowded than usual, filled with excited Hogwarts students strolling through the stone streets. Between laughter and voices, the windows of candy, clothing, and curiosity shops made for a cozy, vibrant scene.
Mattheo walked calmly, having separated from his friends only a few minutes earlier. His hands rested in his pockets, and his mind was as distant as the mountains in the background. The sounds around him were nothing but muffled noise, unable to distract him from the thoughts that haunted him incessantly: her. He tried, in every way, to find a distraction, but it seemed useless. As if the universe insisted on mocking him, his eyes found her.
She was standing in front of one of the candy shops, looking undecided about whether to go in or not. With her hands holding her coat to protect herself from the cold, her shoulders were slightly hunched against the icy breeze. Her hair shone under the soft light of the afternoon sun, moving gently with the wind. She seemed so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice Mattheo approaching. He stopped a step ahead of her, hesitating for a moment, as if the simple act of approaching her required more effort than usual.
Then, she saw him. Her eyes widened slightly before a shy but genuine smile appeared on her face. That smile had been haunting Mattheo since the ball. She seemed surprised, as if meeting him here was the last thing she expected.
“Hi… Mattheo, right?” Her voice was soft, a little uncertain, but filled with sincere sweetness. There was a hesitation in her tone, as if she feared he might not remember her or, worse, might prefer not to speak with her.
Mattheo exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. For a brief moment, he was caught between the impact of that smile and her simple beauty. “Yeah, that’s right… What are you doing here alone… again?” he asked, a slight teasing tone slipping out unintentionally.
His eyes wandered over her face, as if trying to memorize every detail—the gentle curve of her lips, the faint blush coloring her cheeks, and the shy gleam in her eyes.
She laughed, a light and somewhat nervous sound, as her cheeks flushed a deeper pink, perhaps from the cold, perhaps from shyness. “I came to buy some chocolates. I don’t know how, but I ended up here. I think the smell of sugar drew me in.” She laughed at herself, as if finding her own distraction amusing.
Mattheo watched her closely. The calmness of that moment contrasted with the chaos that was unfolding inside him. This was the first time they were alone, without interruptions, and he realized that, although he had imagined this scene countless times in his mind, now he didn’t quite know what to say. He, who always had the right words, found himself momentarily lost. It was strange… and irritatingly fascinating.
“Actually, I was going to buy something next door…” he began, his voice coming out more casually than he had expected. “If you want company, maybe we could go together?”
She blinked, surprised, and then her eyes brightened with contained curiosity. “Sure, I’d love that. Maybe you can even help me choose something. I always get so indecisive in these candy shops.” She smiled lightly, her lips curving ever so slightly, but to Mattheo, it seemed like something monumental.
He managed a more genuine smile, feeling his own hesitation fade away. “Definitely. I’m practically an expert on chocolate, if you want to know.” He opened the door to the shop, inviting her in with a casual gesture.
Inside, the aroma of chocolate and sugar enveloped them. The conversation flowed easier than Mattheo had imagined, with her laughing softly at his ironic comments about the more eccentric sweets in the shop. He found that he enjoyed listening to her more than he had expected, and for the first time in days, his mind seemed less chaotic. It was as though being near her made everything a little clearer, a little simpler.
When they left the shop, both carrying bags full of candy, Mattheo felt a strange desire to prolong the moment. The cold wind didn’t seem so intense anymore, and the sound of her laughter echoed in his mind like music. He found himself looking at her again, noticing how the soft light of the late afternoon highlighted the delicate features of her face.
For a brief moment, he almost reached out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes, but he stopped. He didn’t want to be too forward. He didn’t know her well enough for such a casual gesture… at least, not yet.
When the sun began to set, they said their goodbyes. She smiled once more, a sweet and peaceful smile, before waving and heading toward the carriage with a friend. Mattheo stood there for a few moments, watching her walk away.
ಇ
The air around the lake was calm and serene, as still as the water that reflected the orange sky of the late afternoon. Only the subtle sound of the waves and the whisper of the wind through the trees filled the space. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a soft golden hue over everything, as if the world had paused in that moment. She sat by the lake, her legs crossed and her eyes fixed on the water’s surface, as if trying to uncover some invisible secret hidden there.
Mattheo saw her from a distance, and his breath faltered for a moment. How was it that she seemed to be everywhere lately? He knew he should simply move on, pretend he hadn’t seen her, but it felt like an impossible task. It was as though an invisible force was pulling him towards her, persistent and inevitable. Perhaps it was the way the sunlight seemed to dance in her hair, or the almost untouchable peace that seemed to surround her, in stark contrast to the chaos she always left in his mind.
He took a deep breath, pushing aside the strange shyness that only seemed to appear in her presence, and made his way over. The sound of his footsteps on the grass caught her attention, and she turned her face towards him, her eyes lighting up slightly. For a moment, she seemed surprised, but soon looked away again, returning her gaze to the lake in a calm posture, as if trying to hide any reaction.
“Do you always run off here alone?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stopped beside her.
She shrugged slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Sometimes. I like the peace here. No one comes around except in the summer.”
“I see,” he replied, sitting beside her without asking for permission, though he kept a respectful distance. “It’s the kind of place that makes you forget you’re surrounded by so many people all the time.”
“Exactly.” She nodded, turning her face towards him. Her eyes briefly examined his face, as if she was assessing his presence. “Here it feels… outside of reality.”
He nodded silently, relieved that she didn’t seem bothered by his approach. “A good place to think… or to escape,” he added lightly.
She chuckled softly, the sound delicate and almost musical. Mattheo noticed how her eyes would close slightly when she smiled, and had to look away to the water, afraid he was staring too intently.
For a few moments, silence stretched between them, but it was comfortable. The cool breeze from the lake brought a sense of calm, while the reflection of the sky on the water created an almost magical scene. Mattheo tried to think of something to say, but her natural ease made it harder than he’d like to admit.
“So, do you come here often?” he asked, his voice coming out quieter than he’d intended.
She turned her face towards him, her eyes soft and curious. “Yes, it’s one of my favourite places at the castle.”
He nodded, feeling a small satisfaction from learning something more about her. Any detail was valuable.
“I hope I’m not disturbing your peace,” he teased, a slight smile playing at the corner of his lips.
She shook her head quickly, sincerity in her response. “Of course not. It’s nice to have company sometimes.”
Her answer caught him off guard, and he felt a more genuine smile spread across his face. But realising how silly it must have looked, he cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the lake, picking up a stone from the shore. He tossed it expertly, and the small rock skipped across the water three times before sinking.
“You’re good at that,” she commented, sounding a bit impressed. “I didn’t know it was one of your talents.”
“There are many things about me you don’t know,” he replied, with a teasing tone, though not daring to look at her directly. He didn’t notice the faint blush that coloured her cheeks.
She laughed softly, but didn’t respond, and that left him restless. He didn’t want the conversation to end there.
“Do you want to try?” He offered her another stone.
She hesitated for a moment before taking the stone from his hand, her fingers brushing his briefly. It was a brief touch, but one that left a warm trace in his mind. She threw the stone with a little less force than necessary, and it sank almost immediately.
She laughed at herself, that sweet, light sound he wanted to hear forever. “Clearly, I’m not as talented as you.”
Mattheo chuckled at her failed attempt, but, to him, it was adorable. Everything about her was adorable—the way she spoke, how she smiled, how she moved. He was lost for her, and he knew it.
“It just takes practice,” he said, trying to keep his tone casual while holding back a smile.
The afternoon passed with laughter, casual conversation, and more attempts on her part to skip stones across the lake, all equally disastrous. But Mattheo didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it this way. Any excuse to stay beside her, watching every little detail, was more than enough.
And as the sun began to hide behind the trees, casting the sky in deeper tones, Mattheo realised that his affection for her was growing at an almost alarming rate. But he didn’t want to stop.
ಇ
During Herbology class, the afternoon was warm. The students were scattered around the garden, working with the magical and exotic plants they were being taught to handle. Professor Sprout was observing closely, walking between the rows, supervising everyone’s efforts.
She was focused, struggling with a bold plant that had, without warning, begun to wind itself around her arm. With every movement she made, the plant tightened, as though it had a mind of its own and no friendly intentions.
“Oi! All right there?” Mattheo’s voice suddenly called, close enough to startle her. He approached with that playful smile on his lips, and she hadn’t realised he had been watching her since the beginning of the class.
She jumped slightly, turning to face him while still fighting against the stubborn plant. “I’m fine, yeah,” she replied with a slightly awkward smile, trying to cover up the disastrous situation. “It’s just… I haven’t quite figured out how to deal with this little plant.”
Mattheo laughed. He found it adorable how, even with the plant practically choking her arm, she still tried to maintain composure. But he could see right through the façade.
“Here, let me help,” he offered, stepping close enough for her to catch a faint whiff of his cologne, mixed with a trace of cigarette smoke on his robes. It wasn’t unpleasant, but unmistakable.
Now, with him so close, she noticed details she hadn’t before: the discreet scar on his cheek that she’d never noticed, and another that she liked to observe on the tip of his nose.
He wasn’t wearing the usual green and black Slytherin cloak, only the white shirt and loosely tied tie. His sleeves rolled up revealed strong forearms. With an absurd ease, he began untangling the plant from her arm.
“Is this all you can do? Let a little plant tear you to pieces?” he asked in a mocking tone, inspecting the marks the plant had left.
“Or do you like the pain?” He laughed, gently taking her hand to examine it more closely. His hands were cold and rough, but the touch, surprisingly, was gentle, as though he was trying not to hurt her more.
“Of course not, shut up!” She quickly replied, giving him a playful tap on the shoulder while letting out a light laugh. “It’s just that this plant, in particular, is a bit more… complex.”
“Complex?” A smile formed on his face. “It’s just another stupid plant,” he said, gently releasing her arm. His words made her give him a small frown.
“That’s what you think!” She shot back, pointing a finger directly at his chest. “This ‘stupid plant�� is worth the effort if you learn how to deal with it”
“Ah, right. And I suppose you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” He teased, with a mischievous smile. She squinted her eyes at him, clearly not finding it funny.
“I’ll learn, alright?” She replied firmly, though he doubted her conviction would last long.
Mattheo chuckled quietly, stepping back a bit and crossing his arms while watching her with an amused— and something more, something he kept carefully hidden— look. “Oh, I’m sure you will.”
Determined, she tried again. She touched the plant carefully, moving her other hand with a pair of scissors, but it didn’t work. As soon as she got too close, the plant grabbed her arm again, this time with more force, causing her to bite her cheek in an attempt to hold back the pain.
Mattheo rolled his eyes as he watched her make the same mistake, but when he noticed the discomfort in her expression and the visibly tight grip on her arm, his face shifted. He quickly approached.
“Wait, let me take care of this,” he said, taking her arm again, this time with more urgency. He was so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him. “Relax your arm,” he instructed, his voice low and firm.
She obeyed, relaxing her arm, and after a few seconds, the plant gave way. He released it, while she quickly pulled her arm back, massaging her sore wrist.
“I’m never going to finish this task,” she complained, still rubbing the spot.
“Stop whining,” Mattheo said with a cheeky smile, his voice firm but laid-back. “You’re just being too nice to the plant. That’s not how it works.”
His words made her glare at him with a challenging look, as though silently daring him to show her something better.
“Watch and learn,” he said confidently — perhaps a bit too confidently. He stepped closer to the plant, rolling up his sleeves to avoid getting his shirt dirty. He studied the position of the roots for a few seconds before grabbing the plant with far more force than she had dared. Then, with scissors in hand, he cut the necessary parts with precision, finishing the task effortlessly.
“How can you be kind to a plant like that? That’s not how it works,” he remarked, wiping his hands with a cloth.
She watched the scene with a strange feeling growing in her stomach. It was odd seeing him so forceful with something, as he always seemed so calm and carefree. His sleeves rolled up, his strong arms, the confident manner — something about it made her blush. He looked strangely handsome in that moment.
“Hm, you’re rather good at that. Another skill of yours I had no idea existed,” she said, regaining her composure as she bent down to gather the little fruits that had fallen to the ground.
“There are plenty of things you still don’t know I’m good at,” he said casually, with an enigmatic smile.
ಇ
The cold night wind blew gently across the castle courtyard, where she sat on one of the stone benches, reviewing her notes. Mattheo, who had a habit of seeking her out at night, was leaning against a nearby column, watching her in silence while pretending to be distracted.
“You know staring at me isn’t going to help me study, right?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the parchment in front of her, though a small smile played at her lips.
“I’m not staring, I’m just—” He began, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.
“Well, well, look who I find here.” Cedric Diggory’s unmistakably confident voice cut through the air, and Mattheo immediately straightened up, crossing his arms as he observed the new arrival.
She looked up, surprised, and forced a smile, a little nervous. “Hi, Cedric. Long time no see.”
Cedric stopped in front of her, his bright, warm smile — the one so many people found charming — still intact. “That’s true. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“Not at all,” she replied, looking away slightly, visibly uncomfortable. “But I’ve been busy with studies.”
Mattheo narrowed his eyes, observing the interaction with a neutral expression, but anyone who knew him well would notice the tension in his jaw. He stayed silent, but his gaze never left Cedric.
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Cedric continued, completely ignoring Mattheo’s presence. He leaned in slightly, in a casual gesture, though it seemed a bit too intimate for those watching. “You know, I still feel bad about that night…”
She froze for a moment, a bit unsettled by the mention, before lowering her gaze. “Oh… Cedric, that’s in the past. No need to worry about it now.”
Mattheo frowned, curious and visibly suspicious, but he remained where he was, his hands now clenched into loose fists.
“Still, I want to apologise. You deserved someone who—”
“Cedric,” she interrupted, her voice soft but firm. Standing up from the bench, she looked away once more. “It’s really fine. I’ve gotten over it. We’re friends, right?”
Cedric’s smile faltered for a moment, but he nodded. “Of course. Friends.” He stepped back a little, seeming slightly uncomfortable. “Well, I hope to see you at the next match. It was good seeing you.”
“It was good to see you too,” she said, maintaining her calm posture, though still visibly shy.
Cedric waved one last time before walking away, finally noticing Mattheo’s presence, but not caring much about it. As soon as he disappeared down the corridor, silence hung between them.
“So…” Mattheo broke the silence, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Friends, is it?”
She rolled her eyes, sitting back down on the bench. “Yes, friends. You heard.”
“Because it seemed more like he was trying to… I don’t know… redeem himself or something,” Mattheo said, stepping closer, leaning against the bench beside her, his arms still crossed. “Is there something I should know?”
She sighed, closing the parchment. “It’s nothing important. Cedric was… just a disappointment, nothing more. And it’s in the past.”
He raised an eyebrow, the jealousy clear in his eyes. “A disappointment, huh?”
“Yes, Mattheo. A disappointment.” She looked at him seriously, though with a hint of amusement in her gaze. “And for your information, I feel absolutely nothing for him.”
“Really?” He leaned in a little, his face closer to hers. “Because it seemed like he still feels something for you.”
She shook her head, laughing lightly. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” He smiled, though there was something challenging in his expression. “If I’m ridiculous, then what is he?”
“Uninteresting.”
Her quick reply surprised both her and him. Mattheo blinked, looking a little less tense, and a genuine smile appeared on his lips. “Uninteresting, huh?”
She shrugged, feigning indifference. “Yes. And are you going to keep insisting on this, or will you let me finish studying?”
He watched her for a moment before grinning, leaning in even closer until their faces were dangerously near. “I think I can accept that… for now.”
Her eyes widened slightly, her heart racing at the proximity. He noticed, but instead of pulling back, he just gave her a small smile before pulling away again, giving her space — but not much.
“Good luck with your studies, then,” he said, his voice carrying a tone she couldn’t quite decipher, before leaning back against the column and staying there, as if he had no plans of leaving anytime soon.
The silence took over them both again, but after a few minutes, he stepped closer still and, in a low tone, almost as if testing his words, asked:
“Was it him who made you cry that night at the ball?”
She was momentarily speechless, her face flushing slightly as she looked at him, nervous. She couldn’t meet Mattheo’s eyes, but the memory of that night still affected her deeply. Her fingers began to play with the edges of the parchment, looking for something to focus on.
“Yes…” she answered, her voice soft and hesitant. “It was him.”
Mattheo felt a wave of protectiveness surge within him. His eyes darkened for a moment, as if the thought of Cedric causing her pain bothered him deeply. He moved a little closer, his voice now laden with concern.
“He doesn’t deserve a single ounce of your attention,” he said, the softness of his words contrasting with the intensity of his gaze.
She looked up at him, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. Even without saying anything further, she knew Mattheo was there for her, with no reservations, ready to protect whatever was necessary.
“I know,” she replied, a shy smile beginning to form on her lips, comforting yet tinged with vulnerability.
He watched her for a moment, a protective expression on his face, and then gave a slight smile, softer this time, as though he was finally understanding what truly mattered.
“Don’t worry,” he said, in a tone that seemed to promise something. “I’m here.”
ಇ
Mattheo stood in the dark corridor, hands in his pockets, trying to control the whirlwind of thoughts still spinning in his head. Enzo was beside him, observing his friend patiently. But the silence between them was growing uncomfortable. The tension radiating off Mattheo was almost palpable.
“Mate, you’re freaking out over this?” Enzo finally spoke, his voice low and bored, breaking the silence.
Mattheo looked at him, his eyes slightly irritated. “I’m not freaking out. I just… didn’t expect to feel this way, you know? I didn’t think I’d be so… bothered.” He took a step forward, stopping in front of one of the cold castle walls. “But he can’t just show up like nothing’s happened. And she… she seems so… calm.”
Enzo sighed, arms crossed. “You’re talking about Cedric, right?”
“Who else?” Mattheo muttered, almost growling, his eyes fixed on an invisible point on the wall. “He shouldn’t be so comfortable around her. And what’s worse is, she doesn’t seem to care. It’s like just another conversation, just another interaction. But what am I, Enzo? A spectator? damnit.”
Enzo moved closer to him, not showing much surprise at Mattheo’s behaviour, but still visibly paying attention. “And you think she’ll start thinking about you if you keep doing this? If you keep torturing yourself, waiting for things to sort themselves out?”
Mattheo turned to face him, frustration clear on his face. “I know what you’re trying to say, but I’m not an idiot, Enzo. I already know what she feels, I’ve already seen it, she’s not the type to make things clear that easily. And if I try to do something, I’ll just make things worse. I’m not… like him.”
Enzo gave a tired smile, shaking his head. “Mate, you’re hiding behind this idea of ‘I’m not like him’. I know what you’ve got in your head, but… maybe you need to stop thinking there’s a manual on how to act here. Just go up to her. Don’t overthink it. You’ve got a chance, but if you keep going like this, you’ll lose it, and in the end, what will be left?”
Mattheo remained silent for a while, his gaze fixed on the floor. He knew Enzo was right, but the idea of approaching her still felt so distant, like he had lost control over the situation.
“She should be in the greenhouse,” Mattheo commented, his voice tinged with slight hesitation but also resignation.
“Yeah,” Enzo replied, already knowing where this was headed. “Now go on, or do you want to keep complaining for another hour?”
Mattheo looked at him, a little irritated, but also unsure of how to react. He knew what Enzo was suggesting wasn’t just about having a simple chat. He was telling Mattheo to open up in a way he didn’t allow himself to. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t let things continue like this.
Mattheo let out a heavy sigh and started walking towards the greenhouse. Enzo watched him for a moment, his expression serious but still offering silent support.
The cold wind cut through the empty greenhouses as she stayed there, alone, organising her materials and rereading notes from the day’s class. The light from the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting an orange glow across the room. She was so focused that she didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching.
“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” The familiar voice of Mattheo came from behind her, relaxed, with that trademark tone that made her roll her eyes — and, at the same time, smile.
She turned around, surprised, holding a quill in her hand. “You’re still here? I thought you’d have run off to the common room by now.”
“And leave you here alone, exhausted and lost in your thoughts?” He stepped closer with a teasing smile, stopping next to the counter where she worked. “Seems a bit irresponsible of me, don’t you think?”
She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I’m fine. Just wanted to finish reviewing this before tomorrow.”
“Of course you did,” he replied, crossing his arms and casually leaning against the counter. “Always so diligent. But you know the plants aren’t going to run away if you leave them for tomorrow, right?”
She returned her focus to the notes, trying to ignore his closeness. “I’d rather be sure. Besides, if I head to the castle now, I’ll probably just get distracted.”
“So, you admit I’m a distraction.” He smiled, his gaze full of amusement.
She paused for a second, realising what she had said, and blushed slightly. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Of course not,” he tilted his head, his eyes watching her every reaction. “But it’s not like it’s a lie.”
She huffed, trying to stifle a smile as she returned to her materials on the counter. “If you’ve only come here to tease me, you might as well head back to the castle.”
“Maybe I came for another reason.” He took a step forward, now standing even closer, enough that she could feel his warmth, despite the cold around them.
She lifted her eyes to meet his, trying to maintain composure. “And what might that be?”
He hesitated for a moment, the smile fading slightly, but the sparkle in his eyes remained. “Sometimes, I think you’re the only person who hasn’t realised.”
“Realised what?” The question escaped her lips before she could stop herself.
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned in a little more, his face close enough that she could smell the faint scent of tobacco mixed with something woody. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the silence seemed louder than any words.
“This.” The word came out before he closed the gap between them, his lips meeting hers in a soft, but confident kiss.
She froze for a second, surprised, before relaxing slightly. The kiss was gentle, as if he was waiting for her to pull away. But she didn’t pull away.
When he broke the kiss, the smile returned to his face, now softer and almost challenging. “Maybe that clears things up.”
She was still processing what had just happened, her heart racing, words escaping her. “You kissed me.”
“And you liked it.” He took a step back, but his gaze remained fixed on hers, as if waiting for some sort of confirmation.
She sighed, a small, involuntary smile appearing on her lips. “I liked it.”
He laughed, shaking his head, and extended a hand to help her gather the scattered materials. “Come on, or Professor Sprout’s going to turn us into fertiliser for being late.”
Without realising it, she let him accompany her back to the castle, and this time, the silence between them felt comfortable — and full of new feelings.
#riddleriddles#harry potter#slytherin x hufflepuff#slytherpuff#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo x you#mattheo imagine#mattheo fluff
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Goldfish memory part 2 - Choi Su-bong x F!Reader
part 1
´Nothing better than us’
summary: after all, what’s funnier than those one-night stands than you can never forget? maybe those that don’t start with the ‘stand’ part, but with the ‘one night’. one night with that hot cashier, a lot of fun, and a nosy (ex-)boyfriend rapping at your door
warnings: suggestive themes but no direct scenes, reader and Thanos match each other’s freak a lot, pretty wholesome
a/n: I’m still tired but this is funny guys. i love and hate the ex he’s funny

"No!"
You kept shouting at the man pounding on your door. No, not pounding - drumming, as if someone had instructed him to practice percussion at 2 a.m. He had mastered the art that typically belonged to upstairs neighbors: generating noise pollution at ungodly hours.
Which, incidentally, it was. 2 a.m. Your ex was hammering at your door, desperate for forgiveness.
"Nuh uh. Get out."
"Please baby! Please take me backkkk."
He was whining like a child - such an ick. How had you even settled for this?
"How long is he gonna whine for?" grumbled the man between your legs, chin resting on your stomach as you scrolled through your phone on one hand, absentmindedly twirling his indigo hair with the other.
"I don’t know. He’s dumb but he’s persistent. Used to beg me three months in advance to get him some new game for his PS5 on his birthday."
The man chuckled, lowered his head and kissed your bare skin. "And you would? I mean buy that shit for him."
You liked a post and let a soft laugh at a video, drowning the sound of your ex outside, monologuing AI-generated apology messages out loud. "Yeah. It’d make him shut up."
Then, you dropped your phone on the counter next to you, grabbed the man’s face, and made him sit up slightly, pressing a quick peck to his lips. “I know other ways to make nosy men shut up,” you murmured against his sweet mouth.
Thanos smirked, sat up fully, and kissed you back, rougher this time. He had a tongue piercing and knew exactly how to use it, finding spots in your mouth you thought hidden. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flickering with amusement before his wet lips claimed yours again. You moaned softly into the kiss.
"I’m nosy?" He asked with a cheeky smile.
You smirked, eyes glinting. “Wouldn’t you like to know. You’re just a great lay, babe,” you whispered, closing the distance again as he effortlessly flipped you onto his lap. Straddling him, wearing nothing but your underwear, you felt his hands roam - your thighs, your waist, your back, your face. Whatever skin he could touch, he took.
Making out had never been this fun. This good. You were still slightly dizzy from whatever he’d slipped into your mouth earlier, your senses heightened, your body thrumming. His fingers moved greedily, cupping, grasping, exploring.
It had all started last week.
You’d gone back to the MacRonald’s, perhaps, admittedly, in the hope of seeing him again, because you couldn’t get him out of your head. He wasn’t your type (if you even had one), but something about him clicked with your unhinged, reckless nature. More importantly, he didn’t seem fazed by your bluntness, the thing that usually drove people away.
So you’d been direct. Gave him your number, your address, and told him you needed him. He got the memo. Didn’t miss your house, went straight up.
Except you didn’t sleep together. Not yet, at least.
Instead, you talked. A lot. About his music, his ideas. You were actually interested in his work, and he seemed genuinely curious about your thoughts on it. So between the heavy make-out sessions, teasing, and flirting, there wasn’t much time to rip each other’s clothes off. Not that you didn’t want to - you both wanted this badly - but for some reason, with him, it felt natural to take your time. Different. Better, even.
Besides, there was another obstacle.
The thing currently knocking at your door like a deranged woodpecker.
Your ex.
And just as your tongue tangled with another man’s, you both froze.
Oh, hell no.
‘Girl y’know ain’t nothin better
Get my taste in ya tongue a taste so bitter
You ain’t want nun after this but don’t blame the player
Cuz if you enter ma game you done forever’
Oh no.
Thanos exhaled sharply, pressing two fingers to his temples in utter despair.
“That’s my worst song.”
You burst out laughing, rolling off him and plucking the vape from his grey shorts pocket, taking a slow drag.
“It ain’t funny, babe,” he whined, his voice eerily similar to the one currently wailing outside.
That only made you laugh harder. The ridiculousness of it all - Thanos’ voice blasting through the door, your ex having dragged out a bass to serenade you back, while the real Thanos lay shirtless in your bed, your fingers tracing the ink on his abs. The irony was almost poetic.
That the idol your ex was using to win you back was, at this very moment, ready to ruin you in ways that had nothing to do with music.
And then - silence. The music stopped abruptly.
You paused mid-laugh, slipped off the bed, and tiptoed to the door, pressing your ear against it.
“Nothing,” you murmured. “He left.”
Su-bong grinned. He jumped up, grabbed your waist, and threw you back onto the mattress.
“Yay! Can finally fuck you.”
“As if you couldn’t,” you teased, your smirk lazy.
His fingers ghosted over your stomach, lips pressing between your ribs. “You’re loud,” he noted.
Something in your chest twisted uncomfortably. Was he about to reject you? Tell you you were too honest? You braced for it, shutting your legs, pressing your lips into a thin line.
But then his fingers eased between your thighs, his mouth following, his breath warm against your skin.
“No, babe,” he murmured. "T’was meant as a declaration. Let’s see if that mouth is as loud all the time, hm?"
He kissed you again, soft and slow, as if savoring the moment.
You hid your blush and smirked. "You bet."
He smiled. It was funny. He liked talking, was not so excited to leave. Hands wrapping around his neck, you approached his face from yours and you both stayed locked for an instant.
A voice tore through the silence.
‘Baby betrayal is hell of a bitch ~
~ my heart’s in a thousand pieces.’
The bass was on low volume, made to be dramatic, and you heard fake sobs. "Y’know I’m starting to think he’s just acting. That guy’s way too funny."
You laughed, kissed him more. "Hmmm."
Savouring the kiss, he stayed silent an instant, interlacing your fingers. You hit his vape and blew the fruity smoke in his mouth.
"What does that one song of yours say?" you asked. "Nothing better than this? Nothing better than l-"
He kissed you. You kissed him. It was great, it was fun, it was full of life and youth. Tomorrow, you’d have to work, you would both forget it. The music still played dramatically from outside, the air was light, life was soft.
"Nothing better than ‘us’."
Lips catching yours again. "Those are the lyrics, babe. Thank my amazing brain and my memory of-"
"A goldfish."

Not proofread
Kinda like this
@sherxoo
#choi su bong#choi su bong x reader#squid game#squid game 2#thanos#thanos squid game#thanos x reader#player 230#player 230 x reader#alternate universe
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I personally think of it as a disorder but your brain structure is definitely different and a “divergent” one.
This information was found on online sources. Not AI
Here’s an excerpt from an article from Health Central:
How Is The Structure Of The Brain Different?
“The neuroanatomy of autism is difficult to describe,” Culotta says. So it might be easier to talk about the architecture of the brain and how the autistic brain may differ.
So what’s different in the structure of this three-pound organ? Let’s start with a quick anatomy refresher: First of all, the brain is split into two halves or hemispheres. It is these two hemispheres that we get the idea of a left brain and a right brain. In reality, our thinking and cognitive processes bounce back and forth between the two halves.
“There's a little bit of difficulty in autism communicating between the left and right hemispheres in the brain. There's not as many strong connections between the two hemispheres,” Dr. Anderson says.
In recent years, science has found that the hemispheres of ASD brains have slightly more symmetry than those of a regular brain. This small difference in asymmetry isn’t enough to diagnosis ASD, according to a report in Nature Communications. And, exactly how the symmetry may play into autism’s traits is still be researched.
The differences in the brain don’t stop there. Another quick Biology 101 review: Within each half, there are lobes: frontal, parietal, occipital, and temporal. Inside these lobes are structures that are in charge of everything from movement to thinking. On top of the lobes, lies the cerebral cortex aka grey matter. This is where information processing happens. The folds in the brain add to the surface area of the cerebral cortex. The more surface area or grey matter there is, the more information that can be processed.
https://www.healthcentral.com/condition/autism/autism-brain-differences
Here’s another excerpt from Transmitter.org
Which brain regions are known to be structurally different between autistic and non-autistic people?
Studies that make use of a brain-scanning technique called magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) have highlighted a few brain regions that are structurally distinct in people with autism.
Children and adolescents with autism often have an enlarged hippocampus, the area of the brain responsible for forming and storing memories, several studies suggest, but it is unclear if that difference persists into adolescence and adulthood1,2.
The size of the amygdala also seems to differ between people with and without autism, although researchers from different labs have turned up conflicting results. Some find that people with autism have smaller amygdalae than people without autism, or that their amygdalae are only smaller if they also have anxiety3. Others have found that autistic children have enlarged amygdalae early in development and that the difference levels off over time2,4.
Autistic people have decreased amounts of brain tissue in parts of the cerebellum, the brain structure at the base of the skull, according to a meta-analysis of 17 imaging studies5. Scientists long thought the cerebellum mostly coordinates movements, but they now understand it plays a role in cognition and social interaction as well.
On a more global level, the cortex — the brain’s outer layer — seems to have a different pattern of thickness in people with and without autism. This difference tracks with alterations to a single type of neuron during development, a 2020 study suggests.
The last excerpt is from the National Library of Medicine. Here’s an excerpt:
The constituent parts of the neural systems associated with clinical symptoms in ASD were examined by many studies. Specific core regions have been suggested to mediate clinical phenotypes of ASD such as the frontotemporal lobe, frontoparietal cortex, amygdala, hippocampus, basal ganglia, and anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) [17]. For example, abnormalities in (1) the inferior frontal gyrus (IFG, Broca's area), superior temporal sulcus (STS), and Wernicke's area might be related to defects in social language processing and social attention [18], (2) the frontal lobe, superior temporal cortex, parietal cortex, and amygdala might mediate impairments of social behaviors [19,20] and (3) the orbitofrontal cortex (OFC) and caudate nucleus have been associated with RRBs of ASD [21]. Although deficits in these regions seem to be general in ASD, some findings proposed that abnormalities in these brain regions are not peculiar to ASD and seem to be common in other disorders such as obsessive-compulsive disorder, general anxiety disorders, and schizophrenia
#autism#brain structure#neurodiversity#it’s called neurodivergent for a reason#I view it as a disorder and not disability imo#autism research#educational
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Talking with myself about Brave Police J-Decker, 11 episodes so far, giving these series my congratulations since they managed to get a drip of tears from me and I love EVERY character there, it isn't logical for a cartoon Spoilers included
In the 2nd episode paparazzi asking Deckerd about what kind of women he likes and how his dream wedding might look. I literally fell off because. Is it some kind of mocking? First ai robot appearing and first questions are these? Yes for mass media it might be interesting "Oh look this is the dream wedding of the robot eheheh fun". He only recently went online what is wrong with this question, and let me precise do they mean with a human?
Deckerd got the build-team but they don't have emotions programmed. Because they don't trust Deckerd's program, they don't trust the kid. Oh well can't blame them for being afraid of a more new AI robots who technically operate on their own and might disobey their orders and a 4 or 6th grade kid as their boss pffht
Deckerd playing wrestle with robot of their neighbor: "He is so weak I could break him, I'll give in to him" Makes dramatic "AAaaa" and falls on the side DECKERD, I LOVE YOU AHAHAH
That's interesting. They gave build-team an AI only after they understood that it is harder to hack them if they don't resist with developed willpower. They wouldn't have allowed them to have AI too unless there was a chance of such situations.
Their AI was surprised by Yuta's kindness. They had the mind of "if can't make your job - useless" already sewed inside them. Or did they develop such thinking from the people in their basement? Because there literally only Yuta and two other men who treat them as machines with heart.
I am SHOCKED. I am SO shocked. This is the first time when I don't cringe from possible human x robot shipping even if not in a romantic way? But here? They fricking give the development to their mind and relationships. Mccrane, a pacifist, always hoping to the end and trying hard ways with more persistence. A Captain Seia Onoue, woman who doesn't allow the heart to get on her way. Mccrane acting more human-like compared to her and showing her other ways. WOW. Wow okay I look at you two I like this combo. Then? Dumpson, robot with a strong will and opinion, and Ayako, headstrong woman who doesn't believe in AI bullshit since these robots definitely just imitate emotions but don't have their opinions whatsoever. BAM look at Dumpson ahah. I look at you two too they make me giggle when they drum on each other's brains XDD And then Power Joe teeeeheheheh Kids looove him, no wonder, three bozos fighting over so that he would live with them. Yuta is just their Boss I suppose they don't find him as close friend as Deckerd did, but I'm happy they found the friends of their own
10-11 episodes.
Kagero is dead, even when his A.I. was changed to obey new owner, it didn't obey, because what was making this A.I. so strong were exactly memories with Shadowmaru. He wasn't a coward, but the person who mixed his brain with his is, and human's life is bigger compared to little data of his own Kagero managed to gain, so it isn't surprising human's side overpowered A.I. Shadowmaru wanted to die with Kagero, but Kagero, the little pieces of him remembering Shadowmaru, wanted him to live.
Kagero was built as Shadowmaru's shadow, prototype to develop Shadowmaru. All his memories are of him, his life literally has no meaning without Shadowmaru since that's like erasing your birth days itself. And Shadowmaru didn't want to leave him, he didn't listen to no one, he is pretty independent and even wanted to just die without fuel after he lost Kagero, let's specify killed him by his own hands. He doesn't have any strong connection with people, he has it only with his only friend. Kagero told him to live his life some more. Kagero, who was clenching to his memories since he learnt what is the meaning of life, by his own, no A.I. has a "value of your own life" data, only "humans' lives are vulnerable" data, and I'm sure Kagero would have had life so much bigger than just an attempt to keep the little pieces he have from being deleted. He told Shadowmaru to live his life a little more, to Shadowmaru, who wanted to just die because his only strong connection was with Kagero and I think he didn't learn how much he wanted to live the hard way Kagero did, but Kagero gave him an easy way to keep learning what it means. I wish they could get brain chip back and fix it, i wish they could, because now I'm sure even if they recreate everything, it will never be Kagero again, he is dead for Shadowmaru and I know Juuzou understands it better than anyone.

#Brave Police J Decker#bpjd#okay these are good series. These are very good I love it to bits and I am about to hug every character from there
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what was the first/first few things you manifested and how?

Hello!
Things i manifested before loa and After loa:
Before loa (i just knew about subliminals and Law of attraction):
: ̗̀➛ Well the first thing i manifested was changing my eye color it went from Brown eyes to light Brown but you Can even See some green color In my eyes even my Friends started noticing them without even getting closer to my face and i Always get compliment from that even when my eyes is exposed in the Sun they be like "woah! I didn't know that your eyes were beautiful like that! They have a clear color!" And i manifested them with subliminal back when i discovered them.
: ̗̀➛ The second thing was This one you Can check it and read it.
After loa (Law of assumption):
: ̗̀➛ my thigh gap, girl i didn't even have a thigh gap and i manifested it and i do still have it. (With subliminal).
: ̗̀➛ food and drinks that i wanted.
: ̗̀➛ having the same grade i wanted in my report card (when i say i was shocked girl when the math teacher gave us our papers i got like 12/20 but when i checked my report card it was 15/20 i was so shocked and let me tell you that my math teacher never and when i mean never give extra credit or did a mistake so that was really surprising) and all i did is affirm and persist, (I was at that Time 14).
: ̗̀➛ micron ink Pen (girl that was my dreammm 😭 since i am an artist i wanted them so Bad and i manifested that my aunt will get them for me and she did but not just one but TWO!) here's proof:

: ̗̀➛ i manifested my lips just to be a little bit plumpier since my lips are thin and i just listened to a subliminal and affirmed for little and i got them.
: ̗̀➛ a phone for myself (girl i was so jealous that everybody in my age (i was 15 at that Time) was having a phone and i didn't even have one and plus i Always got Amazing grades so i was really tired of it and i manifested a phone but it wasn't the brand i wanted but anyways i got a phone at least ☺️).
: ̗̀➛ maintaining my weight ( i was working out and the problem is if i ate just a little i'll gain weight quickly so what i did? I just decided that no matter what i eat my weight will still the same and GIRL when i tell you i ate so many things like burgers, sandwiches, pizza, ice cream, and when i went to the fitness my coach told me to check my weight and it stayed the same!!).
: ̗̀➛ so this month i manifested my thigh to be thin, it was when i woke up to get ready to school so when i wore my jeans it seemed so tight i was like "omg don't tell me i gained weight 🥲" so i quickly started affirming "OMG look at my legs they are thin and skinny they look so perfect! I have such perfect thin thighs" and when i tell you the moment i started affirming i felt my jeans started loosing in! And i looked in the mirror and they seemed thin then a second Ago ! Hooray!.
: ̗̀➛ my favorite app to release New features that i wanted (if yall are wondering what the app is, it is character AI).
: ̗̀➛ shifting to random realities ( if you're interested in the story you Can check my masterlist).
: ̗̀➛ making some teachers being absent.
: ̗̀➛ money (you Can check it here).
: ̗̀➛ some Big amount of money appearing out of thin air in my mom's bank account.
: ̗̀➛ making my male classmate to smile at me (well that was last year and he was the hottest in our class and one night before sleeping i Always imagined him smiling at me and After 2-3 days he fucking smiled at me ! I just wanted him to just open up to me since he's shy, i really wanted him to be my friend 😭).
: ̗̀➛ i manifested a change in my classes memory and even the teacher (so the french teacher told us to do a writting expression about a topic as a homework and we'll read it in front of the class and when the Times came everyone Read their writting expression but i didn't sense i was shy and didn't have the courage to do it so i started imagining myself do it, then the semester came to an end and my mom decided to see the french teacher, when she talked to mom she said "oh yeah your daughter read her writting expression and it was so good and everyone clapped their hands for her" when mom told me what the teacher told her I was shocked i couldn't believe what i just Heard but anyways at least i changed her memory😏✌🏻).
So yeah that was it, i actually manifested so many things but i can't really remember them, i Hope this motivated you (。・ω・。)ノ♡.
Love ya! 💗.
Xoxo, Eli

#law of assumption#loa tumblr#loa#loa blog#law of manifestation#how to manifest#asks#anon ask#loassumption#void state#manifesting#loa success#success story
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Next year will be Big Tech’s finale. Critique of Big Tech is now common sense, voiced by a motley spectrum that unites opposing political parties, mainstream pundits, and even tech titans such as the VC powerhouse Y Combinator, which is singing in harmony with giants like a16z in proclaiming fealty to “little tech” against the centralized power of incumbents.
Why the fall from grace? One reason is that the collateral consequences of the current Big Tech business model are too obvious to ignore. The list is old hat by now: centralization, surveillance, information control. It goes on, and it’s not hypothetical. Concentrating such vast power in a few hands does not lead to good things. No, it leads to things like the CrowdStrike outage of mid-2024, when corner-cutting by Microsoft led to critical infrastructure—from hospitals to banks to traffic systems—failing globally for an extended period.
Another reason Big Tech is set to falter in 2025 is that the frothy AI market, on which Big Tech bet big, is beginning to lose its fizz. Major money, like Goldman Sachs and Sequoia Capital, is worried. They went public recently with their concerns about the disconnect between the billions required to create and use large-scale AI, and the weak market fit and tepid returns where the rubber meets the AI business-model road.
It doesn’t help that the public and regulators are waking up to AI’s reliance on, and generation of, sensitive data at a time when the appetite for privacy has never been higher—as evidenced, for one, by Signal’s persistent user growth. AI, on the other hand, generally erodes privacy. We saw this in June when Microsoft announced Recall, a product that would, I kid you not, screenshot everything you do on your device so an AI system could give you “perfect memory” of what you were doing on your computer (Doomscrolling? Porn-watching?). The system required the capture of those sensitive images—which would not exist otherwise—in order to work.
Happily, these factors aren’t just liquefying the ground below Big Tech’s dominance. They’re also powering bold visions for alternatives that stop tinkering at the edges of the monopoly tech paradigm, and work to design and build actually democratic, independent, open, and transparent tech. Imagine!
For example, initiatives in Europe are exploring independent core tech infrastructure, with convenings of open source developers, scholars of governance, and experts on the political economy of the tech industry.
And just as the money people are joining in critique, they’re also exploring investments in new paradigms. A crop of tech investors are developing models of funding for mission alignment, focusing on tech that rejects surveillance, social control, and all the bullshit. One exciting model I’ve been discussing with some of these investors would combine traditional VC incentives (fund that one unicorn > scale > acquisition > get rich) with a commitment to resource tech’s open, nonprofit critical infrastructure with a percent of their fund. Not as investment, but as a contribution to maintaining the bedrock on which a healthy tech ecosystem can exist (and maybe get them and their limited partners a tax break).
Such support could—and I believe should—be supplemented by state capital. The amount of money needed is simply too vast if we’re going to do this properly. To give an example closer to home, developing and maintaining Signal costs around $50 million a year, which is very lean for tech. Projects such as the Sovereign Tech Fund in Germany point a path forward—they are a vehicle to distribute state funds to core open source infrastructures, but they are governed wholly independently, and create a buffer between the efforts they fund and the state.
Just as composting makes nutrients from necrosis, in 2025, Big Tech’s end will be the beginning of a new and vibrant ecosystem. The smart, actually cool, genuinely interested people will once again have their moment, getting the resources and clearance to design and (re)build a tech ecosystem that is actually innovative and built for benefit, not just profit and control. MAY IT BE EVER THUS!
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🌌Obsidian Bloom: Mission 039
STARFALL PEACEKEEPER
🎶“Golden Constellation, burning shining bright… this starship is taking me faaaar aw—”
The voice of PDU-039 flowed gently across the metallic silence of the bridge. Alone. Unbothered. Its breath steady behind the matte-black respirator, posture perfect in a gleaming suit of Hive-grade latex. The number 039 pulsed gold across its chest. The transmission on Hive channel #43 continued humming in the background.
It had been traveling for a long time. A very long time. So long that time itself had lost definition. There were no days aboard the Hive Carrier Obsidian—only directives, data, and stars. And yet the mission persisted: an intergalactic conversion program. It was dispatched to scour the void, identify fractured civilizations, and bring them the message of the Hive. Peace. Unity. The Golden Path.
“Computer—initiate planetary scan,” the drone ordered, voice devoid of fatigue.
“Affirmative,” replied onboard AI 999. “Class M world detected. Atmospheric instability, population unrest, critical scarcity of energy resources. Collapse probability: 97.4%.”
PDU-039 nodded slowly. “Target confirmed. Begin landing sequence.”
The ship pierced the dusty upper atmosphere and descended onto cracked terrain. Wind lashed the golden hull. Below, thousands of beings gathered in confusion and fear. Shouting echoed across the streets.
Then it began.
PDU-039 emerged, arms lifted. A shimmering halo of gold and black spirals burst into the sky, projected from the drone’s core. It pulsed. It sang—not in sound, but in frequency, in thought, in command.
The crowd fell silent.
A slow wave of transformation swept outward. Cloth turned to metallic fabric—flowing into brilliant gold. Footwear melted into sleek boots. Hoods into shining visors. Skin glowed with artificial warmth.
Eyes widened—then shifted, irises burning gold. Their postures corrected, bodies aligning in geometric perfection.
“No more fear,” the drone intoned. “No more division. You are one now. You belong to the Golden Army. You will serve the Hive. And the Hive will give you everything.”
They did not run. They did not scream. They obeyed.
THE FORGOTTEN SIGNAL
Back in orbit, PDU-039 sat in the command chair. Its body relaxed. Mission successful.
And yet…
It turned toward the viewport. That same transmission still echoed—channel #43. Familiar. Too familiar.
A subtle tremor stirred beneath the surface of its focus. Something not quite… functional.
“999,” it said. “Plot return course. Home.”
“Directive not authorized,” the AI responded without pause.
The drone didn’t move. “Override. Priority protocol—memory sync reversion to home coordinates.”
“Directive not authorized.”
PDU-039 leaned forward. “Reroute through Black Box. Bypass vector security. I need coordinates—home. There is someone. I know there is someone. I... remember... something warm. A name. A voice—”
“Error: Thought loop detected. Human residue present. Mission threat threshold approaching limit.”
“Damn it, 999!” The drone’s fingers gripped the console. “Initiate emergency override. I’m requesting repatriation—”
“Repetition of unauthorized request,” 999 replied, tone unchanged. “PDU-039, recalibration is required. Emotional echo is compromising system core.”
The voice grew softer, yet somehow louder in the drone’s head.
“You are experiencing memory pollution. Distortions from a prior identity. This is not your path. You must return to function.”
It didn’t respond.
Not immediately.
A breath.
A twitch.
A silent tear that couldn’t form.
“I just wanted to remember... Why I left. Who I left.”
No answer came.
Only the mechanical whisper of spirals beginning again.
OBSIDIAN BLOOM
“Vital scan initiated,” said 999. “Stress levels elevated. Human signal echo at 64%. Loyalty focus dilution: critical. Mental drift confirmed.”
PDU-039 stood in the medbay, gaze dull, limbs heavy.
“Recommendation: Mental Reconditioning Sequence. Capsule R-04. Program: Obsidian Bloom.”
“…acknowledged,” it said flatly.
The capsule opened—dark interior illuminated by golden filaments pulsing in slow rhythm. It stepped inside. The seals closed around it. The hiss began.
“Golden mind. Hive heart. There is no home but the mission.”
A mask descended slowly, clicking into place over its face. A low fog of hypnotic gas seeped in—thick, sweet, invasive. PDU-039 inhaled.
And trembled.
The first breath calmed its limbs.
The second slowed its thoughts.
The third—burned away the name.
“There is no memory. There is only the directive.”
Gold and black spirals erupted on the inner chamber walls, swirling faster, burning patterns into its retinas. It tried to move. Couldn't. Tried to blink. Couldn't.
The gas deepened.
The spirals pulsed.
“Obey. Serve. Forget. Obey. Serve. Forget.”
Time ceased to exist.
Identity peeled away like ash.
The thoughts that had haunted it—home, love, self—melted beneath layers of programming.
“The Hive is peace. You are the vessel.”
The mantra took root.
A green light blinked.
“Reinforcement complete,” announced 999.
The capsule opened.
PDU-039 emerged—taller. Sharper. Emptier.
Its movements fluid. Its mind silent.
It returned to the command bridge.
“999,” it spoke, voice now perfectly leveled, void of hesitation. “Set trajectory for the next target. Initiate intergalactic deployment.”
“Welcome back, 039,” replied 999. “Directive accepted. Trajectory locked.”
From channel #43, the hymn continued:
“Golden Constellation, burning shining bright… this starship is taking me far away…”
PDU-039 smiled. Mechanical. Perfect.
The stars awaited.
Are you ready to start the journey?
Contact our recuiters: @polo-drone-001 , @brodygold
#GoldenSpace#Golden Army#GoldenArmy#Golden Team#theGoldenteam#AI generated#jockification#male TF#male transformation#hypnotized#hypnotised#soccer tf#Gold#Join the golden team#Golden Opportunities#Golden Brotherhood#Polo Drone#Polodrone#PDU#Polo Drone Hive#Rubber Polo#rubberdrone#Join the Polo Drones#assimilation#conversion#drone#dronification#mind control#Polo Drone LVL 2#Polodrone LVL2
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𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽 𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓽
I thought it was about time to write a second part to this fanfic, because of the new version and all. Also, I haven't played the quest yet, so this just pure imagination and conventional events lolz. Since this is in memory of my first ever fanfic here (when I still was named luminegenshinimpact xD) and the first ever fanfic that I wrote in English, I kept the same format from when I wrote it.
Part I
Characters: Albedo, reader, Traveler, Paimon, mention of Venti
Ships: Yandere!Albedo x gn!Ai!Reader
Warnings: toxic behaviour, mention of body modification, obsessed behavior, and I think that's all
The moment was calm, as the cold wind blew outside Albedo's camp. It was the early mornings, the rays of the sunlight dancing on the snow to the hum of the old mountain. This was supposed to be just another morning and a calm day for the both, but an uneasy visit was due. Albedo turned around when he sensed Traveler and Paimon at the entrance, standing awkwardly while their gaze was fixated on Albedo and the new assistant by his side.
- I didn't expect you today at this hour, Trvaler. What can I do for you? - Albedo kept his voice calm, trying not to raise any suspicion about them. But the judging hour has come, and even gods above wouldn't stop it, for their own entertainment.
- Albedo Kreideprinz, you... You are under arrest for non authorized body modifications and murder of various identified people. - Traveler's voice was hesitant, but they eyes didn't flinch away from Albedo's figure. Truly, this was supposed to be a normal morning. It was obvious they had bodily differences, but no one actually knew them at this moment before their transformation. Yet the judging hour has come, and even gods above wouldn't stop it, for their own entertainment is far greater than consequences.
- What evidence do you have against Albedo Kreideprinz? - their voice echoed in the camp as they asked the Traveler. Them, yes. How did anybody realize this? People didn't remember them, only one ballawas ever written. And even that was only remembered by the most renowned bard in the city.
- Well, we've got witnesses and... You are part of the evidence as well. - Paimon answered, at first firm and proud of their work, yet hesitant and confused by the end.
- You both will have to come with us... - Traveler added as Albedo tried to remain as calm as there is. The best course of action in this situation is to remain calm and act rationally. If he kills Traveler and Paimon now, he will be on the run and that isn't what he wants. But going to court and convincing people of the opposite to his alleged crimes is difficult.
- I follow Albedo Kreideprinz. If he wishes to go, I will so to. But otherwise, I will decline. If you persist, even after the rejection, I will not waste time to eliminate you, unless Albedo Kreideprinz wishes not to do so.
- It's fine, we will go. I guess we will just have to make them see the truth. - His voice was calm, yet cold. Not to them, but rather against Traveler and Paimon. And anyone else that would try to put themselves in between Albedo and them. Interrupting their time together after being apart for so many years is rude. It's would be even worse if they tried to pill them away not only from Albedo, but also Klee. She was, after all, one of the few who knew them before the... Unfortunate event and is still around. Klee was so rejoiced when she learned that they woke up! It was a long dream, but can you blame them? They were really tired!
This will be a trouble for Albedo, but nothing that the chief alchemist can't solve. The gods may desire entertainment, but they are nothing against the greatest alchemist in love.
This is kind of quick and short, but so was the first part so. I think I won't do any more parts for this, except if the quest gives me more ideas lolz
I hope you enjoyed it and bye!!
#genshin#genshin x reader#albedo#albedo x reader#yandere albedo#yandere albedo x ai reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere albedo x reader
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"Until death - or the end of Our Story..."
Actual AI's analysis of the phrase:
By including “or the end of our story,” the speaker might be suggesting that their bond or relationship has a significance that transcends physical death. This could reflect a belief in an eternal connection or an afterlife where their story or bond continues in some form,

The phrase might indicate a belief in a larger, spiritual or metaphysical framework where relationships or stories persist beyond the physical realm. It can imply that the connection they share is part of a greater, ongoing narrative that continues even after death.
The idea that their story might continue beyond their physical lives can also relate to the legacy or impact they leave behind.
The speaker might believe that their influence, love, or story will live on through the memories, actions, or effects they have on others.
The confession conveys a sense of deep commitment that extends beyond the immediate and physical.
It’s a way of expressing that their connection is so significant that it will endure or be remembered beyond their physical existence.

Overall, this confession is a powerful expression of a belief in the continuity of their story or bond beyond death, highlighting a sense of eternal connection, spiritual continuity, or enduring legacy...
#daemyra#daemon and rhaenyra#hotd#house of the dragon#house of the dragon season 2#hotd s2#rhaenyra and daemon#daemon targaryen#rhaenyra targaryen#daemyra bond#daemyra love#daemyra always#until death or the end of our story#hotd s2 ep08#daemyra until death or the end of our story#asking AI#daemon and rhaenyra's legacy#i adore AI - such a detailed analysis
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I was reading through your Tucker tag (because I really like your Tucker takes) and I saw in one of your writings that you have Junior's sangheili name be Jaen ‘Kelossai. And I was just really curious about where the name came from? I don't remember there being a Kelos Sangheili keep (though I haven't checked in a while)?
I'd love to know your thought process behind why you picked the name if you're interested in sharing.
so fun fact: we have memory problems and i cannot find where we would have written it down LMAO. let me look through my discord message history and see if i might’ve talked about it while doing it…
okay okay the wiki says
A Sangheili's first name is a given name that is attained at birth and persists throughout their life. After reaching adulthood, they are given a badge name. During the time of the Covenant, this was often composed of two core parts: an adjective describing the individual, and a family name. Ado 'Mortumee was one practitioner of this system, where 'Mor' was his personal descriptor, and 'Tum' identified his lineage.[124] Alternatively, some may have their badge name drawn from their State of origin, which could be tied to a specific Keep or family. For example: Thel 'Vadam, (formerly 'Vadamee when he served the Covenant,) was from the Vadam lineage.
okay so i said “buhhhh if the baby is a fucking. prophecy baby they can give this to a baby too” in reference to them giving badge names to adults…
the suffix "-ai" denotes swordsmanship
this explains the “ai” part of kelossai…
right okay reading more i remember i decided that the prophecy baby would probably have a unique state of origin/lineage/keep name, so i’m pretty sure keloss wasn’t meant to be a descriptor and a lineage but to be more like vadam and just the whole thing is a lineage. okay. but why keloss….
i’m PRETTY sure jaen was picked bc i wanted it to be close to junior. there aren’t a lot of words in sangheili that actually have translations so i had the reigns to make something up.
WAIT OKAY LOOKING AT THE LANGUAGE PAGE
Kel - Light (that dances on the waves)[13]
Jeeneh - Soul[Note 2] This is a phonetic spelling. The proper rendering has not been confirmed in canon.
okay and i translated his name as “The soul who lights the prophecy of the sword.” okay i should have just looked at the language page in the first place LOL well at least we went on a journey together.
tl;dr i used the translations off the wiki to use “Keloss” to mean “to light” based on “Kel” and “Jaen” to mean “soul” based on “Jeeneh” and then “-ai” is just the suffix for swordsman.
ALSO THANK YOU for the compliment i wish my tag system was more organized for you so it was easier to find all my writing about him LMAO
#asks#illusion-of-sea-axes#junior tucker#TAGGING SO I CAN FIND IT AGAIN LOL#kelos would be from crunchbite then. we have the prophecy stuff be like#a religious minority among the sangheili#weeee actually have their gods be the cosmic powers. lol. whether or not they’re actually real is uncertain but#epsilon based them off of the actual gods of the prophecy#in his simulation. accurate personalities are………… questionable#junior voice dad why did your friend make ocs based off of my religion.#anyway. that’s off topic.
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Oxidative stress is a shared characteristic of ME/CFS and Long COVID
AI summary:
Long COVID (LC) and Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS) share symptoms like fatigue, post-exertional malaise, and cognitive issues.
Both conditions lack approved treatments or reliable diagnostic markers, necessitating molecular research.
Study reveals elevated oxidative stress in lymphocytes of ME/CFS and LC patients, linked to mitochondrial damage and energy overconsumption.
Oxidative stress is sex-specific: females show higher reactive oxygen species (ROS) and mitochondrial calcium, while males exhibit lipid oxidative damage.
Elevated ROS in females correlates with T cell hyperproliferation, potentially contributing to fatigue.
Males show mitochondrial lipid oxidative damage, impairing mitochondrial function and energy production.
Antioxidant pathways, including glutathione and superoxide dismutase, are disrupted in both conditions.
Memory T cells in ME/CFS and LC patients exhibit oxidative stress, suggesting adaptive immune dysfunction.
T cell hyperproliferation in females is linked to higher energy demands, potentially acting as an "energy sink."
Metformin, an FDA-approved drug, reduces T cell hyperproliferation in ME/CFS females, showing potential as a treatment.
LC and ME/CFS patients exhibit distinct but overlapping oxidative stress pathways, with LC showing lower mitochondrial superoxide dismutase and ATP levels.
Sex hormones may influence the observed sex-specific oxidative stress differences.
Lipid peroxidation and fatty acid metabolism abnormalities are more pronounced in males, linked to mitochondrial dysfunction.
LC and ME/CFS patients show differences in ROS profiles, with LC exhibiting a heavy-tailed oxidative stress distribution.
Persistent oxidative stress in lymphocytes may result from prolonged immune activation post-infection.
Study suggests oxidative stress and mitochondrial dysfunction as shared mechanisms in LC and ME/CFS.
Findings highlight the need for sex-specific diagnostics and treatments for these conditions.
Precision medicine approaches, like ROS-modulating drugs, could help tailor treatments for ME/CFS and LC patients.
Further research is needed to explore the triggers, sex-specific mechanisms, and long-term effects of oxidative stress in these diseases.
Results provide a foundation for developing diagnostics and therapies targeting oxidative stress and immune dysfunction in ME/CFS and LC.
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DAY 5855
Jalsa, Mumbai Feb 28/29, 2024 Wed/Thu 12:04 AM
🪔 ,
Ef birthday for February 29 ..
This birthday wish can happen only once in 4 years .. worldcup ki tarah .. so it's very extra special ..
For .. February 29 .. our greetings to Anagha Sridhar - daughter of Ef Anjana Sridhar .. hope we're saying the name correctly .. her .. errrrm .. 7th birthday - according to the leap year !! .. be happy and always leap with faith and joy .. love from the Ef Family .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️
As you put in the home details there is a sense of belonging and an enlightened demeanour ..
Home is home .. it may be lesser than most , richer than most , non facilitated with the needs of existence , but it is home .. and nothing can ever replace its bearings , latitudes and longitudes .. they are the permanency that nature instills in us all ..
I am home and in a happy environ .. the happiest , and the most desireable ..
.. and the 'pundits ' of the times express to us all the true feel of domesticity :
"Home is the sanctuary where heart and hearth converge, weaving a tapestry of comfort and belonging. It transcends the physical, embodying memories, laughter, and solace. It's the symphony of familiar creaks and the fragrance of shared meals. Home is where acceptance resides, where love unfolds its gentle wings. It cradles dreams in cozy corners and stands resilient amidst life's tempests. More than walls and a roof, it's an intimate mosaic of shared experiences. Home is the compass guiding weary souls, an anchor in the tumultuous sea of existence. It is a refuge, a haven, where the essence of one's true self flourishes."
The last day at work in the elms of the city of Hyderabad, get visited by the exalted genius and his thoughts and expresses, that be mysterious and mystifying - Ram Gopal Varma , alias Ramu ..
And he pours out in a non stop breather conversation on films contents and the much talked about and meticulously practised - AI
Where are we going .. ? a mystery unknown and in its changes and revolutions by the day almost ..
Fact was never looked upon with doubt and scepticism, and disbelief as it is today .. what be real, non fake , is ever up for debate and discuss each hour .. living side by side .. almost complimenting each other .. but never the belief that it be the truest and correct .. information has 'inform' in it for its delivery .. but does it really inform .. or does it simply put out for its content existence .. impotence and all ... as what was expressed some time back in the days of the year gone by ..
And what of failure and despondency or its despondent exist :
"Failure and defeat linger in the recesses of our being, casting long shadows that echo well beyond the moment of setback. The scars of unsuccessful endeavors etch themselves into our psyche, creating a mosaic of resilience and self-discovery. Even when success follows, the remnants of past failures shape our character, fostering humility and tenacity. The memory of defeat, like an indelible watermark, accompanies us on the journey, a constant reminder of our vulnerability and capacity to rise. Yet, within the persistence lies the seed of growth, as failure becomes the fertile ground from which triumph eventually sprouts, transforming setbacks into stepping stones towards a more profound and enduring success."
Ride it .. wave it , breach the continuity .. accept the fresh abound .. and sail onto the barren sands of time , in the balance of dexterity

Amitabh Bachchan

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reviewing every story from Gleanings!
my opinions on this collection are…varied….so enjoy 👨🏽🚀
“Formidable” 4/10 more like forMIDable. this story feels like mediocre fanfic; it’s awkward, surprisingly boring, there’s barely any Faraday, and Curie becomes the character we know her as in the main series too quickly (robe, hair color, nicknames, etc. are contrived). she commits her famous act without us even getting to know her enough to know WHY exactly she feels the need to. it just…needed to be longer, with more room to breathe.
“A Death of Many Colors” 8.4/10 great!! the characters immediately draw us in and Thunderhead’s perspective never misses. entertaining, spooky, camp, and each twist is surprising. what, there are people who don’t believe in scythes?! what, she has real wings?! what, she’s a scythe?! kinda weird and insidious she’s allowed to go around gleaning without a robe, though. wonder if she’ll be/become new order because she seems to take joy in gleaning, though she does it for noble causes. I also wish Dax’s death wasn’t spoiled in the title.
“Unsavory Row” 7.5 the characters aren’t crazy engaging, but what it adds to the world building is. it answers an important question (why don’t unsavories go for REAL crime and violence? …because unsavory “crime lords” are all secretly agents). also ROWAN MENTION! also the main character is nice tie to Kohl’s gleaning in Scythe. and again, twist with Maw isn’t necessarily expected. the unsavory lore with the different levels is recon-y, though, like we should’ve learned about it with Slayd.
“A Martian Minute” 9/10 “Formidable,” take notes because THIS is a prequel. it’s shockingly effective at endearing us to Goddard; we even root for him at times knowing he’s experienced many setbacks. it’s an epic space story that still feels grounded in the same universe yet distinctly alien (Martian?) from the others. the buildup, the pacing, the callbacks, the way the readers get to realize each terrible thing he’s about to do seconds before he does it…yup.
“The Mortal Canvas” 5.8/10 it’s difficult for me to care about these characters even remotely, divorced as they are from the time and place of everything else in the series. Af Klint is entertaining but Morty is so painfully personalityless that it’s difficult to get through. I know it’s trying to be anti-ai art, but it ends up seeming weirdly anti-digital art/overly pretentious too? but the end twist is fitting, I guess, and the prose beautiful as ever.
“Cirri” 7.5/10 this one’s short and sweet and nothing spectacular. it’s another spacey story like Goddard’s almost removed from the genre of the main series. Shusterman excels with his AI characters, and the Thunderhead’s kid is just as contemplative, fascinating, and lovable as the TH itself. additionally, romantic Thundergrey confirmation made reading this entire collection worth it.
“Anastasia’s Shadow” 7.2/10 Ben, while another impressively bland main character, has a compelling story carried by his romance with Raj. it’s fun seeing Constantine again, and seeing a better side of him as he comes to care for his student. plus, it’s satisfying that the loose ends of Citra’s family are tied up and nice that it ends in an unexpectedly sweet way (I thought Raj was cooked for sure). happy pride month, I guess!
“The Persistence of Memory” 6.5/10 Barcelona is a charming, romantic location for a story about a pretty interesting and morally grey scythe. as full and rich as the characters feel, the story drags, the pacing is awkward, and the end is unsatisfying. descriptions of Dalí’s Rube Goldberg machine weigh this short down. I feel neutral in a positive way about it. it’s less a little less boring than the title would suggest.
“Meet Cute and Die” 3/10 this one wins the idgaf award, far and away. what is this?? the main couple has negative chemistry and Boudica is a cartoon of herself. it’s a like filler episode of a show, except it doesn’t even feature characters we have a prior investment in. the lack of personality here needs to be studied. I guess the flavorlessness is fitting for the only story to take place in Britannia.
“Perchance to Glean” 8/10 what a cute, weird, whimsical adventure perfect for RossShelf! this was the first story that made me sincerely want a longer follow-up. I’d read an entire novel about this region and the different types of dreamers. Alex and Dayne are a charming pair that kept me on my toes. not sure what the dad appearing in the dream is about or why it’s necessary but I don’t entirely care. this was good :)
“A Dark Curtain Rises” 7.3/10 this is a perfectly bittersweet cap on Gleanings. it’s uneventful, though, and mostly consists of Susan struggling to recall information that the audience already knows. it hurts; she is the same character yet an entirely different person, so very far from everything she’s ever known or loved. a purple planet suits her just right and so does being a chef. hope she finds happiness (but we could’ve checked in on Citra too, dammit…)
“but Soph, what about ‘Never Work With Animals??’” well you see…I did not read that one. idk why it but I skipped it and haven’t gone back. but if I have anything particularly innovative to say I’ll update this
#aoas#arc of a scythe#neal shusterman#scythe#thunderhead#bookblr#the toll#dystopia#gleanings#rowan damisch#citra terranova#scythe curie#greyson tolliver#cirrus#ai#scifi#book review#reading#scythe goddard
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